#my fringe really be trying to get in my eyes | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

choerrypuffs · 1 month ago

Text

red velvet hearts.

pairing: bad boy!donghyuck x baker!reader

genre: fluff, slight angst

word count: 7.7k

synopsis: you patch up a boy with a bloody nose and bruised knuckles, only to find out that he has quite the sweet tooth.

author’s note: why do i keep injuring hyuck in all my fics lmao??? anyways i tried to write his character a bit differently than i usually do to challenge myself so please let me know how you guys like it! also remember, ladies: this is fiction. you cannot fix him <3

warning(s): brief description of injuries, mentions of violence, maximum amounts of cringe and melodrama

playlist: all my ghosts by lizzy mcalpine ― heart eyes by coin ― close to you by gracie abrams ― sidelines by phoebe bridgers ― the alchemy by taylor swift

RECIPE 1. TIRAMISU

“This is not what I meant when I said you need your back blown out.”

“Not funny. I almost died,” you grumble as you wrap the back brace around your torso. You hate the immediate relief you feel from the support it provides, no longer able to tell yourself that it’s really not as bad as it seems―which only makes you angrier.

“Throwing your back out while lifting a giant bag of flour and nearly getting crushed to death by said flour is genuinely the funniest fucking thing I’ve ever heard,” Yeri, your best friend (derogatory), snorts as she shakes her head. “I wish you had cameras in the storage room because I want to see that shit so bad.”

“Thank you for the brace. You can get the hell out now.” You roll your eyes.

“So, what are you going to do now? Aren’t you swamped with orders?” Yeri asks, ignoring you completely.

You have no clue what you’re going to do now. It isn’t just orders you have to worry about fulfilling; it’s also the freshly baked pastries that you have to sell every morning. After a year of blood, sweat, and tears, the bakery that you built from the ground up is finally starting to gain some stable business. So, of course, you chose now of all times to try to lift a bag of flour over your shoulder like you were Dwayne The Rock Johnson.

“I think I’ll have to hire some temporary help,” you answer begrudgingly.

“You could sound less like someone is holding you at gunpoint,” Yeri snorts, “Come on. It had to happen sooner or later anyway.”

“I was handling things just fine on my own.”

“Were you, though?” Yeri raises an eyebrow, gesturing to your current state.

You fear you walked right into that one. “Shut up and help me make some posters.”

The two of you eventually manage to whip up some haphazard “Help Wanted” posters, the letters written in glitter pen and Yeri’s clumsy bubble text. You tried your best to fill in the empty gaps on the construction paper by placing Pompompurin stickers that you normally give to customers’ kids all over it. The posters look like a nine-year-old girl’s school project gone wrong, but you hope it’s charming enough to catch some attention.

By the time you and Yeri finish hanging up all the posters, the sun is already starting to set, and all you want to do is go home and put a heating pad on your back. After saying bye to Yeri, you start making your way back to the bakery to lock up. Once you arrive, you notice a figure dressed in black slumped over in front of the door. You can see their shoulders rise up and down as they take in labored breaths, leaning against the glass door for support.

Every rational fiber in your being screams at you to not approach the stranger alone, but it’s not like you can just leave this person at the front of your place of business. Cautiously taking a step forward, you squat down to eye level with the stranger, wincing slightly from back pain. Through the sweaty and matted mess of his brown fringe, you can see that the stranger is a young man around your age. However, his face is absolutely battered: bloody (and almost certainly broken) nose, split lip, black eye swollen shut, and a jagged cut on his cheek. If he notices your presence, he doesn’t show it, keeping his head hung down.

Gingerly placing a hand on his arm, you give him a small shake. “Excuse me? Are you okay? Do you need me to call an ambulance?”

His brows furrow, and he opens an eye (the only one he’s probably able to open) with a wince before lifting a finger and putting it against his lips. You notice that his knuckles are completely scraped raw.

“Not so loud. I’m okay,” he answers.

“You don’t look―”

As if on cue, his stomach rumbles with a guttural growl that slowly drawls into a sputtering gurgle before dying out all together―leaving a long silence to hang between the two of you.

After another beat, he gives you a sheepish smile. “You got anything to eat?”

You stare at him for a moment; his face is flushed, pink all the way down to his neck.

And like a stupid horror movie character who opens the door to a room that clearly screams danger, you nod.

Fortunately, he―Donghyuck, as he introduced himself―ends up not being a crazy ax murderer.

Unfortunately, you find yourself awkwardly sitting in your closed bakery with a virtual stranger, fiddling with a first aid kit while watching him absolutely devour a piece of leftover tiramisu that you had in your fridge. If the situation wasn’t so insane, you might actually think it was pretty funny. For someone who looks the way he does, this current picture of Donghyuck absolutely doesn’t suit him―bruised chipmunk cheeks stuffed with ladyfingers and cocoa powder stuck on his split lip.

When he’s finished, Donghyuck looks over at you with a mesmerized expression on his face, as if you just fed him ambrosia. There’s a softness to his face that you didn’t think could exist underneath all that grime and dried blood.

“That was…delicious,” he breathes.

“Thanks,” you snort, pushing a glass of water towards him. Unsurprisingly, he chugs it in the blink of an eye. “I still think you should get those injuries checked out, though.”

“Nah, I’ll rub a little spit in them and it’ll be fine,” he shrugs.

“Don’t be gross,” you sigh, scooting your chair closer to him as you set the first aid kit on the table. “Now, come here.”

Donghyuck reluctantly dips his head, and you carefully cup his jaw for support, disinfecting and applying ointment on the cuts and scrapes on his face. You also clean up the dried blood near his nostrils and on his bottom lip, and he doesn’t flinch even when you accidentally brush tender areas like his broken nose or the gash on his mouth. Instead, he stays perfectly still, leaned back in the chair with his forearms resting on his thighs and fingers nonchalantly laced together.

He keeps his gaze trained on something past your shoulder, and you also try your best to focus, but it’s hard to keep yourself from staring―especially when his demeanor has changed so much. He’s so calm and quiet in such a cold, ruthless manner, as if he’s physically steeling himself from pain―like he’s done this a million times before. Occasionally, you feel his eyes swipe across your face when he thinks you’re not paying attention, and it occurs to you how close the two of you are. Suddenly, you’re acutely aware of the heat of his skin against your palm and fingertips, and you rip your hand away from his jaw.

Clearing your throat, you move onto his hands, dabbing his raw knuckles with a cotton ball soaked in alcohol before placing large band-aids on them. Despite your best efforts, it’s hard not to notice how slim his long fingers are or how surprisingly clean his nail beds are for someone who’s covered in blood. You keep your head completely bent, fighting the urge of looking up and possibly meeting his eyes.

“There, all done,” you announce a little too loudly.

“Thank you,” he says softly, “for the cake and for this. For helping me.”

“Don’t worry about it. I didn’t do much,” you blurt, still avoiding eye contact as you clean up the table. However, you notice in your peripheral that his gaze follows your movements, almost hesitantly, before he asks:

“So, you’re hiring?”

You click the first-aid kit shut, blinking a few times before turning back to him. He looks at you with a raised eyebrow, waiting for an answer.

“I―yeah. How did you know that?” you ask, puzzled by such a random question.

Donghyuck points at a poster that you didn’t even know you left here, sitting on the table right behind you. You realize that he was probably looking at it while you were patching him up.

“That poster that says ‘help wanted.’ With the Pompompurin stickers. I’m actually in between jobs right now, so if you would have me―”

“You know Pompompurin?” you interrupt him. It’s not that important and should not stand out to you as much as it does. Yet, you can’t help but grin at the fact that someone like him knows about a tubby Golden Retriever character with a name that sounds like a mashup of the English language’s most adorable onomatopeias.

Donghyuck trails off, stiffening as if you just found out his deepest, darkest secret. He opens his mouth slightly, trying to speak but unable to formulate a response―an excuse, rather. Instead, he just lets out an airy cough, putting a hand over his mouth and turning away from you in an attempt to obscure his face. Despite his best efforts, he can’t hide his glowing red ears and the way his earlier coldness melts away.

“I―yeah,” he responds, words slightly muffled by his hand.

You struggle to maintain your composure as you gnaw on your bottom lip to keep from laughing. Fighting a smile in your voice, you finally say:

“The pay won’t be that much, but you’ll get a bunch of free desserts at the end of the day. Are you okay with that?”

It takes him a moment to process that you’re offering him the job, and you watch his eyes light up and a warm smile overtake his face. There’s still a light shade of pink dusting his cheeks, clashing with the purple bruising and swelling of his injuries.

“I’d love nothing more.”

Suddenly, it occurs to you that Donghyuck somewhat reminds you of a tiramisu.

He may look a bit rugged and grimey, bitter like coffee, but in actuality, underneath it all, he’s soft and fluffy (but not too sweet) like a mascarpone filling.

RECIPE 2. BLUEBERRY PIE

“Are you out of your mind?”

You cringe away from your phone, hurriedly turning the volume down. “Damn, you don’t have to scream like that.”

“You should be the one screaming,” Yeri hollers. “I better not come over one day and find your body stuffed in the freezer or something.”

“I thought you wanted me to hire someone!”

“Not some random dude off the side of the street who was covered in injuries and doesn’t even have any baking experience,” Yeri hisses.

“I don’t need him to bake. I just have him working the front counter and doing all the heavy lifting when I get my ingredient shipments,” you protest. “Did you think I would really just hand over all my orders to some random dude and go party it up in Cancún or something?”

Yeri is silent for several seconds before asking, “He’s hot, isn’t he?”

“What?”

“So you did know what I meant when I said you needed your back blown out.” You can hear the smugness in her voice.

“Yeri,” you say tiredly, “please be serious.”

“I am serious. You’re the one being unserious,” she retorts. “Yesterday, you acted like you would rather sacrifice your firstborn child before hiring a part-timer, and now look at you. Dickmatized.”

“Okay, I’m hanging up now.”

“So, when do I get to meet him―”

You quickly hit the button to end the call and shove your phone into your pocket, letting out an exasperated sigh. You definitely won’t be hearing the end of that for a while. Your face feels warm for some reason, and you decide that you need a coffee break. After you finish making it, you pour yourself and Donghyuck a cup.

You peek your head out from the curtain that separates the kitchen and the front counter to see if Donghyuck is busy. He’s politely chatting with an elderly woman, and your eyes nearly pop out of your head when he takes out the entire tray of egg tarts in the glass display and wraps it up for her. The woman happily hands him a wad of bills and waves him goodbye. After putting the cash in the register, Donghyuck turns around and catches you in the middle of gawking.

“Oh, Y/N. I was actually just about to head back there. We’re out of egg tarts for the display,” he says nonchalantly.

“Uh, yeah, I can see that,” you whisper loudly, “Was that Mrs. Kim? Why the hell did she order a dozen egg tarts? That woman can barely finish a single cookie.”

Donghyuck blinks, clearly confused, whispering back, “She asked for my recommendation, so I said egg tarts since no one had bought any yet, and she said she would take all of them.”

You pause, things finally clicking. Grinning knowingly, you say, “You know, having you work the front is doing wonders for sales.”

“I don’t understand.” He furrows his brows.

You laugh, handing him his cup of coffee. “I’m talking about your face card, Donghyuck. You’re too handsome, so you’re flustering the customers.”

“Are we not whispering anymore?” he asks awkwardly. “Besides, that’s not true. Look at the state of my face right now.”

His injuries have faded significantly, but the bruising and cuts are still there. You want to tell him that superficial wounds can’t mask the warmth in his caramel-brown eyes, the fullness of his cheeks and the sharp jawline, and the air of mystery that enshrouds him and draws people in.

But you don’t.

“Well, for someone who’s only been working here for two weeks, you’re doing superb. Injuries or not.”

And it’s true. You’ve always preferred to work alone because you’re the only one who understands how you want things done. You naturally assumed it would be a hassle and a waste of time to try to explain to someone else when you could just do it yourself, but Donghyuck never seems to need an explanation. In fact, he knows before even you.

He gets to the bakery three hours before you, cleans and preps all the equipment you need for the day, unloads the ingredient shipments, and is already manning the front counter by the time you arrive like it was no big deal at all. He also seems to have a sixth sense of knowing when you’re about to do something you shouldn’t be, even though you downplayed your back injury. He’s somehow always there―moving all the stuff you keep on the top shelf to somewhere within your reach even though you insisted that the rickety wooden step stool you use is perfectly safe, cleaning up a glass beaker that you accidentally shattered, taking out the trash during his breaks, checking in on you when you skip lunch. He even turned down his first paycheck, saying it’s repayment for patching him up and feeding him.

Donghyuck is so perfect that sometimes you wonder if you’re being set up, like maybe he’s secretly embezzling money from the cash register―which would be a more viable theory if he didn’t drive an Audi to work everyday.

“Thanks for the compliment. And the coffee,” Donghyuck says, snapping you out of your thoughts. He gingerly takes a sip and makes a strangled noise, a mixture being choking and retching, before slapping a hand over his mouth.

“Are you okay? Was it too hot?” you ask worriedly.

“No, it’s just…really bitter,” he mumbles, words muffled in his hand.

“Oh,” you blink, “Sorry. I drink black coffee, so I forgot to ask if you wanted creamer and sugar. Come on, there’s some in the back.”

The two of you head to the kitchen, and you watch him dump an exorbitant amount of creamer and sugar in his coffee, the dark roast swirling into something more akin to milk tea.

“You know, there might be some chocolate milk in the fridge if you’d rather that,” you tease.

His head shoots up, those doe eyes lighting up. “Really?”

“No,” you trail off awkwardly, “Sorry, I'm just messing with you.”

It’s a bit adorable that you can visibly see him being disappointed in there not being chocolate milk before growing embarrassed, looking down at his cup. He turns away from you, but you can see the flush on the back of his neck.

“You really have a sweet tooth, huh?” you laugh.

“Pretty lame, right?”

“Why would that be lame? You’re talking to someone who owns a bakery, in case you forgot.”

Donghyuck smiles at you, and it’s sugary sweet like buttercream frosting. He looks at you like you just said the most wonderful thing in the world; in fact, he always makes you feel like that, no matter what you say or do. “I guess you’re right.”

“What’s your favorite dessert?” you blurt, needing a distraction urgently.

He pauses briefly. “I don’t think I have one.”

That actually surprises you. “You don’t? Even though you love sweets so much?”

He laughs, the sound harsh and rough, and it almost makes you flinch. “I’ve never really had an opportunity to have many until now.”

There’s clearly weight behind his words, but you know you’re not in a position to ask any further. A selfish part of you wants to be important enough to him that you are in a position to know more, but you’re all too aware about him very purposefully keeping you at arm’s length.

“Well, you have plenty of time to find out,” you quickly continue, pretending not to notice. “Actually, I’m going to a blueberry farm tomorrow because I’m thinking about adding blueberry pie to the menu. When I get back, I’ll bake one for you, and you can be the first to taste test it!”

“You’re going by yourself?” Donghyuck raises an eyebrow.

“Of course. Who else would I go with?”

“Me. I’ll go with you,” he replies immediately.

“But it’s, like, a forty-five-minute bus ride to the farm. Plus, coming with me to get ingredients isn’t part of your job description anyway,” you explain.

“I can’t come with you on my own free time?” he asks, tilting his head. “Besides, I’m worried about you overexerting yourself with that back injury. A bumpy bus ride definitely isn’t going to help, so I’ll drive us there.”

“You’re going to drive that fancy ass car to a farm? You do realize it’s going to be dirt roads, right?” You cross your arms.

“I think I’ll live. Besides, what makes you think this is the only fancy ass car I own?” He gives you an amused smile.

“You’re joking, right?” You stare at him.

He hesitates for a moment. “Yes.”

“That doesn’t sound―”

“What time are we leaving tomorrow morning?”

“...Seven.”

Unsurprisingly, Donghyuck picks you up right on time, not a minute too early or late. As the universe would have it, it rained the night prior―meaning all the dirt roads are now rivers of mud. You wince every time you heard a splat of mud hit Donghyuck’s pristine white car, but he seems to pay no mind to it. The two of you arrive at the farm within twenty minutes (he found a shortcut), and because you came so early, you get the entire farm to yourselves. The staff arms both of you with a large wicker basket each before setting you loose onto the massive property.

“Okay, make sure to pick the fat ones. The small ones are super tart, so avoid those,” you instruct Donghyuck. “We’re going to fill these baskets to the brim and get our money’s worth.”

“You got it, Captain.” He salutes.

You give him a determined nod and a thumbs up before turning to your respective side and beginning to pick the blueberries. The two of you work without much fanfare or conversation, and it’s a silence that lingers between you comfortably. It reassures you to hear the sound of the bushes rustling from Donghyuck working; his companionship alone relaxes you.

Eventually, when the sun starts peeking through and the weather grows warmer, both of you decide to take a break. You find a spot in the shade before sitting down, pulling out snacks and bottles of water from a backpack Donghyuck brought along.

“I have a surprise for you,” you tell him, trying to hide a smile. “Close your eyes.”

He eyes you suspiciously but does so anyway. You fish out a handful of unripe blueberries wrapped in a handkerchief from your pocket and feed some to him. His reaction is nearly instant the moment he starts chewing them; you watch as his face puckers up from how sour they are and his entire body shrivels into itself, a shudder running through him. He’s polite enough to not spit them out, but you’re not polite enough to resist pointing and laughing at him. Throwing your head back, you laugh so hard that your stomach starts to hurt.

“Oh my God, your face!”

“Ugh,” Donghyuck groans, taking a big gulp of his water. “I should’ve known you had sinister intentions from the start.”

“I didn’t think you’d react like that,” you finally manage to say after catching your breath. “You really can’t handle anything except for sweet stuff.”

“Are you having fun bullying me?” He rolls his eyes.

“So much fun,” you say in a sing-song voice.

Donghyuck tries to continue feigning annoyance, but he can’t help the low chuckle that rumbles in his chest. His eyes always soften when he looks at you, and his gaze is intimate like a lover’s―gentle, tender, unwavering, and vulnerable. But his warmth is always fleeting, and he only allows you glimpses of it through the unmoving walls that he’s erected around himself.

You wish he wouldn’t indulge you so, terrified you’ll try to cross the line he’s drawn between the two of you.

“What are you thinking about?” Donghyuck asks, trying to read your expression

“About the delicious pie I’m about to make when we get back,” you smile.

“I see,” he responds, though it’s clear he isn’t convinced. “I’m looking forward to it.”

“You better be. This is how I’m paying you back for driving me here,” you nod.

“Instead of that, pay me back by telling me what your favorite dessert is,” he suddenly says. “I do still want the pie, though.”

“That was random,” you snort. “Why do you want to know my favorite dessert?”

“Because you asked me, but you never told me yours.”

You suppose he has a point, but you find it ironic that he wants to know more about you when he refuses to offer you even a modicum of information about himself. Despite this, you tell him anyway because you are obviously the fool here.

“If you must know, it’s red velvet cake,” you sigh.

“Why?”

You don’t answer at first, carefully thinking about if you’re ready to be vulnerable in front of him―still a virtual stranger. A virtual stranger who loves sweets. A virtual stranger who is a bit of a messy eater. A virtual stranger who knows Pompompurin. A virtual stranger who worries about you even when he’s not on the clock. A virtual stranger who gently tells you to be careful whenever you try to do something dangerous, whispering, “I’ll do it instead.” A virtual stranger who allows his luxury car to be caked in mud for you.

“Because it’s the dessert that made me realize I want to do this for the rest of my life,” you finally say. “I baked it for my mom’s birthday, and I think I ended up being more excited than her.”

Donghyuck stays quiet, gauging your reaction.

“I was in college, studying to be a doctor like everyone else in my family. So, like a dumb young person who thought that dreams were more important than money, I dropped out of college and went to culinary school. My parents told me I was ruining mine and their lives, disowned me, yada-yada―a bunch of depressing stuff, you know. Eventually, I graduated, took out a huge loan, and opened up my own bakery. Worked a bunch of part-time jobs until my business could stand on its own. Now here I am. Still in debt, though,” you laugh awkwardly. “But I’m not doing too shabby. I was able to hire you, so at least I have a little cash to spare.”

He still doesn’t say anything, so you find yourself starting to ramble. You’re really not sure what possessed you to trauma dump on him like that.

“You know, a lot of people talk shit about red velvet cake because they say the only thing that makes it special is the red food coloring,” you hurriedly explain, “but that’s not true. The cream cheese frosting is super important too. Also, I always say love is the most important ingredient of all. As a baker, you’re kind of baring your heart to the customer, and isn’t it kind of cute that red velvet cake is red like a heart? Okay, please say something now or else I think I’m going to projectile vomit.”

Donghyuck reaches over and brushes a sweaty lock of hair out of your face. His fingers brush over your temple, which makes you sharply suck in a breath. You almost lean into his touch, but you catch yourself. His hand slightly lingers on the side of your neck, like he wants to bring your face closer, but he eventually pulls away.

He searches your face, and you’re not sure what he’s looking for―if anything. Rather, perhaps he’s not searching. Perhaps he’s committing your features to his memory, as if the way you look right now is something he wants to remember forever.

“You’ve worked hard, Y/N,” he says softly, voice slightly hoarse. “This is long overdue, but congratulations. You achieved your dream, and don’t let anyone ever discount that. Not even yourself.”

You wonder how long you’ve waited to hear that. You’re not even sure you knew you needed to hear that. But when Donghyuck says it, it hits you just how long and hard you’ve worked all on your own without a single break. Throughout the years, you’ve really only ever heard, “I’m sorry that happened.” When was the last time someone congratulated you? When was the last time you congratulated yourself?

You surge forward, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and burying your face in his shoulder. Donghyuck cradles you against him, one hand wound tightly around your waist while the other is tangled in your hair. You can feel his chest rise up and down as he holds you. He smells like lavender soap and a bit earthy from being outside, and the warmth of his skin against your cheek makes you want to close your eyes and fall asleep in his arms.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

“No, thank you,” he murmurs into your hair.

You’re not sure why he’s thanking you instead, but what you are sure of is that you’re crossing the line, taking a step towards him and wondering if he’ll meet you halfway.

“Tada!” you announce cheerfully, setting down the freshly baked blueberry pie onto the table.

Donghyuck claps excitedly. “Holy shit, it looks amazing.”

“I’m still trying to figure out the right portions for the filling, so let me know if you think there’s too much or little,” you tell him as you hand him a slice.

Without even answering you, he stabs his fork into the pie and almost eats the entire slice in one bite, seemingly unbothered by the steam still rising from it.

“Be careful. You’re going to burn your tastebuds off. I’m not letting you eat it for shits and giggles, you know. This is for research purposes.” You cross your arms.

“It’s perfect, Y/N. I’m serious,” Donghyuck says after swallowing. “The filling isn’t too sweet, and the crust is airy and light.”

“Well, alright, Gordon Ramsay. I think we’re going to be adding a new menu item then,” you smile. “Think you can get Mrs. Kim to buy a dozen of these?”

“I don’t think she’ll need much convincing with how good these taste.”

“You’re so easy,” you tease. “All I need to do is feed you. Anyways, I’m going to clean up here, but you should head home. It’s getting late, and you wake up way earlier than me.”

“I’ll help,” he insists.

“Go,” you order, pointing at the door. “I can handle it.”

He looks conflicted but eventually relents when you threaten to physically kick him out. Before he leaves, he turns back to you and says, “Thank you, Y/N.”

“Why do you keep thanking me?” you laugh.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve had this.”

“What? A blueberry pie?”

Donghyuck pauses, a slight wonder in his expression, as if he’s realizing his answer for the first time as well.

“Peace.”

And you think maybe this is a step forward for him too.

RECIPE 3. CREAM PUFF

It’s quite surreal how easily and naturally you and Donghyuck fall into a routine together. Somehow, in the blink of an eye, two weeks becomes two months. You’ve learned the little things about him, like how he always swipes some icing before you can fill up the piping bag or that he’s not a coffee drinker at all (more of a hot cocoa person) or that he purses his lips when a dessert he’s testing tastes off (no matter how hard he tries to hide it) or that he involuntarily sticks his arm out in front of you when he wants to stop you from doing something you shouldn’t.

You also notice that he sometimes comes into work with injuries. They’re not nearly as bad as the first time you met him, but it’s hard to ignore a bruised cheek or bloodied knuckles. He always has a reason for them, whether it’s tripping down the stairs or accidentally falling down and scraping his hands on the concrete. You can tell by the way he laughs it off that he doesn’t plan on telling you the truth, so you laugh with him. The two of you, having taken only a step towards one another, find yourselves completely immobile now.

He always does this: envelops you like a cloud but disappears the moment you reach out for him.

You’re honestly not sure why he’s still here. Your injury has long healed, and he clearly doesn’t need the abysmal pay you’re giving him. He feels like he’ll slip away at any moment, fleeting like a warm spring breeze, and you suppose time flies by when you know it’s limited. Despite knowing that, you can’t help but desperately want him to stay.

“I think it’s cute how hard he’s working,” Yeri randomly says one day as she eyes Donghyuck prepare orders in the front. He’s in the middle of a lunchtime rush, so he doesn’t even notice the two of you watching him like weirdos.

“Well, that’s what I’m paying him to do,” you reply, rolling his eyes.

“Oh, I think the money is the least of his worries here,” she hums, taking a sip of her coffee.

She has a point, but you’re pretty sure she’s implying something else as well. Just as you go to ask her what exactly she means, you hear a loud clatter. Flinching, you turn your attention back to Donghyuck and realize that he’s dropped a tray on the floor. However, the tray is the last thing on your mind when you see the expression on his face. It’s a mixture of horror, anger, and almost sadness―like he’s finally come face-to-face with whatever he’s been running from. It makes your blood run cold.

Donghyuck is looking at a boy around his age; the boy has dark hair, a mole under his eye, and a grim expression. More importantly, he’s covered in injuries too.

“Who is that?” Yeri whispers. “Why does Donghyuck look like he’s seen a ghost?”

Maybe because he has, you want to tell her.

Donghyuck grabs the boy's arm, squeezing so tightly that his knuckles turn white, and mumbles something to him. When he turns around and meets your eyes, he looks pained and fearful as if you witnessed something you shouldn’t have.

“Is it okay if I take my break early today?” he asks calmly, though the tremor in his voice gives him away.

You nod hesitantly, unable to force yourself to speak. You watch him as he drags the boy out; when he passes you, you can tell how tightly his body is wound right now. His jaw is clenched, a muscle spasming as he tries to control himself, and every step he takes seems labored. He’s running on pure adrenaline right now, like he’s physically steeling himself.

However, you don’t think he’s ever appeared so incredibly alone before. As you watch his back disappear further and further from your view, you’re unsure if he’ll ever return, and you never imagined how terrifying that would be.

The cream puffs aren’t rising.

You’re crouched in front of the oven, watching the dough remain flat and lifeless. You should’ve known better than to attempt to make cream puffs on such a shitty day, especially when pastries like these are so sensitive to the environment and atmosphere. Even though you know you should probably just scrap them and try again, you wait for just a little longer, hoping that maybe if you wish hard enough that they’ll magically start to rise.

But then again you suppose that no matter how hard you try, no matter how careful you are, no matter how perfect the batter is, no matter how much time you spend time piping them, no matter how much you want them to rise, they won’t.

You decide that Donghyuck isn’t like a tiramisu at all; he’s sensitive and delicate and elusive and frustrating like a cream puff.

“Y/N, they’re burning.”

Losing your balance and nearly falling over, you gasp loudly. You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t even hear Donghyuck walk into the kitchen, nor did you smell the undeniable scent of something being burnt to a crisp.

“Oh, fu―!” you curse, hurriedly opening the oven and casually suffocating both you and Donghyuck with a hot plume of air. Sputtering, you look around and grab a random rag from the sink before reaching for the cream puffs.

“Wait, stop!” Donghyuck stops you with an outstretched arm, his hand pressed to your side. “Let me do it.”

He gently takes the rag from your hand and removes the tray of charred cream puffs from the oven, dumping them into the trash before putting the tray in the sink and running some water on it―just how you like it.

Letting out a relieved sigh, he turns back to you and asks, “Are you okay? It’s not like you to make a mistake like that. You didn’t get burned anywhere, did you?”

When you don’t answer immediately, Donghyuck rushes forward and grabs your hands, carefully examining your fingers and arms. “Wait, are you hurt? Where? Tell me where you got burned. We have to cool it down with some lukewarm water. And don’t just say you’re fine. Burns are not a joke, Y/N―why are you looking at me like that?”

His hands are calloused and rough, and you can still see scabs from where he tore his knuckles, yet he touches you like you’re the delicate one. He’s covered in fresh and old wounds, yet he looks so panicked at the thought of you having a scratch.

“Shut up,” you whisper furiously, ripping your hands away from him. “From now on, don’t ask me another question. It’s my turn to ask you questions.”

He blinks, a bit stunned by your reaction, but it’s clear he knows what you’re about to say. He goes to reach for you again but decides against it. “Okay.”

“Who was that guy?” you demand. “Why are you always covered in injuries? Why did you lie to me? Who are you?”

“He’s an old friend,” Donghyuck starts quietly.

“Do you treat all your friends like that?”

“When I don’t want to see them.”

You wait for him to continue.

“Before I met you, he and I and a few of our other friends worked…odd jobs for cash,” he explains, and he looks like he’s choking on every word. “The jobs usually entailed us hurting people and also getting hurt. I did a lot of shit I wasn’t proud of. At the time, I didn’t really care. It was just nice to feel something, whether it was the adrenaline rush from doing the punching or the pain from being punched. I got a bunch of money, bought a bunch of expensive stuff, but none of it mattered. Eventually, I just felt nothing again. I didn’t even have the energy to loathe myself anymore. So, I took one last job, got the shit kicked out of me, and then I left. That’s when you found me―”

He inhales, and his eyes flicker towards you. He gazes at you so longingly, as if you were impossibly out of his reach, that you can’t help but involuntarily take a step towards him.

But he steps back.

“I thought that working here would make me feel like a human being again, but I didn’t realize how much I would―” He pauses again. “I thought working here would be a nice reset for me, but I naively thought that I could completely leave my past behind. My friends eventually found me, and I guess I care about those reckless assholes more than I thought because they managed to convince me to take on a few more jobs with them. That’s why I’ve been coming to work with injuries. But I’m done. I cut them off for good when they walked into this bakery. I don’t want…I don’t want our past to tarnish this place. I want to keep this place a beautiful, warm, and pure safe haven that you worked so hard for it to be. That’s why I lied to you, Y/N. I’m a coward to the bone, and I was envious of you. I was ashamed to admit it to you. You, who had the courage to chase after your dream. You, who had the kindness to help a good-for-nothing asshole like me. I only want you to have happy memories from now on, and I am not one of them.”

“Are you going to leave?” you ask softly.

“I probably should,” he answers shakily.

“What’s stopping you?”

“Just…one reason.”

“When you say it like that, it makes it sound like the reason is me.”

Donghyuck laughs bitterly, and his eyes drag across your face like every movement hurts him.

“You know it’s you. It’s always been you.”

When you reach for his hand, he turns away like just the warmth from your body heat burns him. So instead, you take a step back.

“I won’t ask you to stay, Donghyuck, I won’t chase you. I’m going to wait right here, and it’s up to you if you're going to meet me halfway.”

RECIPE 4. RED VELVET CAKE

When your alarm clock goes off the next morning, you seriously consider just not showing up to work. It’s not like you can be fired for being a no-show when you’re your own boss, after all.

And it’s not like you have any employees who will be expecting you.

You’ll just apologize to Mrs. Kim and your other regulars later. You’re allowed to have a day where you just rot in bed and feel sorry for yourself.

However, no matter how much you tell yourself that, you find yourself crawling out of bed and getting ready anyway. You can’t seem to brutally crush that small glimmer of hope that Donghyuck might still be there, no matter how hard you try. When you see yourself in the mirror, you recoil in horror. Your eyes are almost swollen shut from the amount of crying you did last night, and your face is sallow and lifeless.

So much for putting on a brave face, you think wryly to yourself. You tried so hard to look tough, when in reality, you bawled your eyes out and even considered praying to God for Donghyuck to stay. It’s a humiliating and humbling reality check.

“Stand up right now,” you sharply tell yourself in the mirror. “He’s just some guy. Get it together.”

You do your best to clean up your appearance and make the trek over to the bakery. It takes another internal pep talk before you can make your way to the door. After you finally walk up, you see that the lights inside are off. Your stomach sinks, and your eyes start to burn. Even though you’re holding the handle, you can’t bring yourself to open the door. It’s an outcome that you expected, yet you wonder why it hurts so badly.

“You liar,” you mumble to yourself, “You said you only wanted me to have happy memories.”

Once you make your way inside, you numbly head towards the kitchen, trying to remember what exactly you have to do today. Oh right, now that he’s not here, you also have to make sure all the ingredients are prepped first.

When you walk into the kitchen, you do a double-take.

The whole place looks like it’s been completely ransacked: used pans and utensils piled up in the sink, two opened boxes of cake mix, containers of ingredients without lids on on the tables, random lumps of flour and egg shells strewn about―

And right in front of the oven is Donghyuck, flour in his hair and frosting on his nose. He’s holding a cake stand with…you think it’s supposed to be a cake on it? The shape is mangled and haphazardly cut, but it has echoes of a heart. The frosting is a hot mess, as if a bird with diarrhea shat all over the cake. The batter is clearly underbaked and makes the cake look gooey in a bad way.

“Um, I promise I’ll clean all of this up in a second, but I wanted to surprise you,” Donghyuck starts awkwardly. “It’s not perfect, but I tried making a red velvet cake for you.”

You stare at him, still not sure how to react.

“You once said that baking is like baring your heart to the customer and that love is the most important ingredient of all,” he laughs softly to himself. “I think love is the only ingredient I managed to get right, but I’m baring my heart to you now, Y/N. I’m sorry I hid everything and lied to you, but I’m in love with you. Hopelessly so. All my life, I’ve chased a feeling, not knowing what it was. But now I do. I don’t think I knew how to feel until I met you. I never once thought I would ever have a purpose in my life, but you make me want to be a normal, proper member of society. Your dream is my dream. I want to wake up at 5AM and sell egg tarts with you for the rest of my life, if you’ll have me.”

Donghyuck sets the cake down on a table in front of you, and you notice that his fingers are dyed red from the food coloring. It almost reminds you of when you first met him, except his injuries have been replaced with red food coloring, flour, and cream cheese frosting.

“This cake is terrible,” you smile, “how did you butcher it that badly when you used cake mix?”

You watch him blush all the way down to his neck, as he sheepishly looks away. “Don’t make fun of me. I really tried my best. I stayed up watching tutorials―”

Leaning across the table, you cup his face with both hands and kiss him, brushing your thumbs across his cheekbones. He tastes like frosting, hot cocoa, and your prayers being answered. The way he kisses you back is bruising, dizzying and knocking any coherent thought out of your head, his hands finding your hips and anchoring you to him. He kisses you like you’re the sweetest and most wonderful thing he’s ever tasted.

When you finally pull away, it takes you a moment to regain feeling in your legs. Donghyuck presses his forehead against yours, lips brushing against yours once again as the two of you try to catch your breath.

“I think I’m going to have to fire you, though,” you whisper. “You know, with me being your boss and all. The power dynamic is too weird.”

He hums, pausing for thought. “Then how about I become your business partner?”

“What?”

Donghyuck reaches into his pocket and fishes out his wallet, pulling out a shiny and fancy-looking credit card. He hands it to you without much fanfare.

“I have a lot of money, you know. So I’m going to invest in your business. Use it as you’d like,” he casually announces.

You stare at him, your jaw hanging wide open. He never tried to hide from you that he was rich, but he never told you that he was rich rich.

“Well, damn! Why didn’t you show me this earlier? I would have forgiven you a lot sooner,” you tease, slapping him on the arm. “Are you sure you want to give this to me? I’m quite the gold-digger, you know.”

“When I told you to use it as you’d like, I meant me as well,” Donghyuck replies, shrugging.

“You’re insane.” You hope he can’t tell how much your face is burning up.

“I guess I am,” he laughs, and you don’t think he’s ever looked so free. You want to tell him that you hope he only has happy memories from now on too. You want to tell him that you’ll rewrite all of his scars with sugary and fluffy desserts so that they won’t ever hurt again.

And for the first time in your life, you feel it too.

Peace.

EXTRA

“So, have you figured out what your favorite dessert is?”

Donghyuck stirs slightly, groaning, as he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you closer. He slips his hand under your shirt (well, technically it’s his shirt) and rests it on your bare hip bone.

“Why aren’t you asleep?”

“Because I’m curious.”

“If I answer, will you let me rest?”

“Depends on how good your answer is.”

“Blueberry pie. That’s my answer.”

You smile against the crook of his neck.

“Why?”

“Because it’s the dessert that made me realize I want to do this for the rest of my life.”

#nct imagines #nct scenarios #haechan fluff #haechan angst #nct dream fluff #nct dream angst #nct 127 fluff #nct 127 angst #nct 127 imagines #haechan #nct #choerrypuffs

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lipglossanon · 9 days ago

Text

April Showers

Real Dad!Leon S. Kennedy x real daughter!reader

A Little More Savory tier commission from @ao3-rex1223

Word Count: 2365 (I went over! 🫣)

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, DEAD DOVE, father/daughter incest, nicknames, dirty talk, kissing, shower sex, grinding, nipple play, breeding kink, lactation kink (mentioned), unprotected sex, creampie

Proofread ✍️

The weather app on your phone is nothing but a filthy liar.

“Sunny with a partly cloudy afternoon, my ass,” you mutter out loud.

“What was that, sweetheart?” Your dad glances over to you, the downpour soaking his hair until the fringe lay flat on his forehead.

You keep your eyes firmly above his neck, a Herculean feat since you wouldn’t mind following the water as it drips down his shirt—nearly opaque now and showcasing his mouth-watering pecs. It’s been a stupid, invasive thought that you can’t shake since moving closer to home after graduating. Your dad’s been helping you out around the house, fixing things up, and during one of those times, you accidentally stumbled on him half naked in your bathroom.

It really wouldn’t have been a big deal; he got covered in some kinda gunk from cleaning the gutters and decided to take a shower before heading back home. Not thinking about it twice, you opened the door to hand him a towel, only to be met with his flexing back muscles and tight ass. He’s been haunting your dreams, whether you wanted him to or not.

Since then, you’ve been keeping a catalog on what makes him so hot; suffice it to say, the brain rot hasn’t abated in the slightest.

“Oh, nothing,” you sigh. “How much longer til we make it back to the cabin?”

He glances down at his smart watch, the small face bright in the gloom. “GPS says about another quarter mile.”

Groaning, you tip your head back, raindrops smattering across your face and down your neck. “Who’s bright idea was it to hike today?”

Leon grins, "Believe it was you this time, squirt.”

Trudging forward, you shake your head, “Yuck, you know I hate that nickname.”

“Come on,” your dad needles you, laughing at your sour face. “It’s cute.”

“Uh huh,” you roll your eyes, then gesture to the trail in front of you. “Following your lead here, pops.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he waves his hand at you and steps out in front. “Make your old man slug it out first. I get it.”

Rolling your eyes again, you give his broad shoulders a light push, meaning it solely as a joke—something you’ve done a thousand times before—however, because of the sudden deluge of water, the trail is nothing but a slippery, muddy mess, and he loses his balance.

He begins to fall backwards, and you try to catch him, but it’s a moot point; he just has too much weight on you. Both of you crash down onto the ground, Leon sprawled on top of you, leaving you both coated in mud. Wincing, you try to raise up at the same time Leon turns on his side, and you end up pinned underneath his body.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you valiantly stifle the whine in your throat. It’s unfair to have your hot dad pressing you into the ground, pelvis to pelvis, while mud and leaves are seeping into your clothes.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he laughs a little deprecatingly as he finally hoists himself up, stretching a hand out toward you. “Guess we’ll need to clean up in the outdoor shower.”

Heart tripping over itself, you nod, “Sure.”

Turning his back to you, he curses under his breath, “Good thing it’s insulated, huh.”

Head dizzy at the thought of seeing your dad strip down in front of you, you can only cough out a strangled yep. Shooting a look over his shoulder, you smile tightly.

“Must be a frog in my throat,” you joke weakly.

It’s enough to make him grin and chuckle.

“Well, Kermit, let’s get outta here.”

“Does that make you Miss Piggy?”

“Har, har, aren’t you funny?”

“Learned from the best.”

A comfortable silence falls between you, only broken up by the sound of rain and your trampling footsteps. Making it back to the cabin, you follow behind your dad as he walks to the lean-to built onto the side of the building. A shower stall’s setup alongside the house, protected from the elements by the sheltered roof. Glancing at it, it doesn’t seem like a lot, but it's fairly spacious inside with a little shower bench.

“C’mon,” Leon nods his head at the stall, kicking his boots off and starting to unbutton his jeans. “We’ll both hop in in our undies and get clean in one go. Save time, so we can get started on dinner and warm up.”

You feel faint, blood surging hotly through your veins. “Um, s-sure. Quick and easy, right?”

He chuckles, “That’s the spirit, squirt.”

Arousal dampening a smidge from the silly nickname, it revs back up when he turns his back to you and bends over to take off his jeans and socks. Biting your lip, you press the dough of your thighs together, eyes drinking in his toned form. Once he’s down to his briefs, he steps into the shower stall, holding the door open as he cuts on the water.

“Hurry it up, sweetheart, haven’t got all day,” he sing songs.

In no time at all, you stand next to your dad wearing only a sports bra and boy shorts, brain overrun with thoughts of his half naked body. You bite back a gasp when his hand comes up to press between your shoulder blades, ushering you into the shower. He steps in behind you and shuts the door.

It’s wide but not very deep due to the bench. As you both try to rinse off, you’re rubbing up against your dad in an almost obscene way. You really aren’t doing it on purpose, but he finally grabs you by the hips and stills your movement with a cut off groan.

“Dad?”

“Sorry,” he mumbles behind you, fingers gripping you tightly as he lets out a breath. “I didn’t—it’s been a while and just—that’s no excuse, ‘m sorry.”

Your heart beats a staccato in your throat, and you rock yourself back, ass brushing against his stiff cock.

“Oh, dad,” you whimper, and he inhales a sharp breath. “That’s so hot.”

He doesn’t stop you from pressing your ass fully against his chubbed cock, grinding back against him with a moan. His grip shifts, and he guides your hips into a rhythm that makes your toes curl, knowing your dad is getting off to this just as much as you are.

“Daddy,” you whine, reaching one hand over your head to drape over his shoulder. “Touch me, please.”

His hands move from your hips to drag along your sides until he’s groping your breasts through your flimsy bra.

“Take it off,” he tells you, voice thick with lust. “Show daddy these tits of yours, baby.”

Slick floods the gusset of your panties while you eagerly strip your bra off, dropping it to the shower floor with a splat. His hands immediately grope and squeeze your breasts, fingers tweaking and tugging your hard nipples.

“Daaaad,” you moan, hips rocking back against his while he plays with your tits.

“Hang on,” he mutters, one hand disappearing, and you hear him shift behind you. Glancing down, you see him kick his underwear off to the side, making you whimper.

“There we go,” he sighs, slipping his cock between your thighs. “Mmm, so soft. And..”

He trails off, and you feel him guide his cock up to rub against the outline of your cunt. “So wet, baby. S’this all for me? What a dirty girl.”

He coos the last sentence in your ear and you melt against him, keening low in your throat. “Daddy, please.”

He pulls back and turns you around to face him; your dilated eyes rake down his body, taking in his thick, dripping cock. Leon yanks your panties down, and you step out of them.

“Pretty pussy,” he groans, fingers skating along your slit, smearing slick along your cunt and his fingers.

“Dad,” you tilt your head. “Kiss me.”

“Baby,” he rumbles in your ear, and your hands grip onto his biceps, pulling him into a wet kiss.

He slips his tongue past your parted lips, groaning as he licks into your mouth. You’re so turned on, it feels like your brain is melting from your ears. Leon ruts between your thighs, cock dragging precum all over your pussy lips, parting your slick folds to nudge against your clit.

“Want it,” you pant, pulling away. “Want your cock.”

“Yeah?” He drops his hand down to grip the base of his dick, guiding the tip until he’s pressing against your hole. “Want daddy to stuff your pretty pussy?”

“Please, please, please,” you chant under your breath, eyes wide as they watch him tease the tip in and out of your fluttering cunt. “Dad, please, I wanna fuck you.”

“God,” he groans, sinking halfway into your snug pussy. “Take it then, sweetheart, since you want it so bad.”

“Yes, yes, oh, fuck,” you moan and whine, hands gripping his shoulders but making sure to keep your nails from scratching him up. No need to give your mom any suspicions.

Once he’s buried completely in your wet heat, he grabs your thighs and picks you up. Without pulling out, he walks you both back so he can sit down on the bench. Your knees settle on the outside of his thighs, letting you sink down on his cock until the tip kisses your cervix.

“So deep,” you slur, that pinch of pain making you clamp down on his dick. “Daddy, no one’s ever been this deep.”

“Fuck,” he hisses, hips snapping up, making you squeal as he knocks against the opening to your womb. “This sweet pussy’s never had a dick this big?”

Shaking your head rapidly, you sling water everywhere, “Nooo.”

“Goddamn,” he bites out, pulling you into a spit filled kiss. “Gonna dick down my little girl like she deserves.”

“Uh huh,” you mumble, kissing him between all your little moans and pants. “Give it to me, daddy.”

“Gonna let daddy breed your little pussy, sweetheart? Hmm?” He teases against your lips, warm palm cupping your lower belly. “Put a baby right here if you let me cum in this soft pussy, cream you nice and deep.”

Shuddering, more slick leaks from your cunt, coating his cock, while your nails claw at his back, totally forgetting about not leaving any marks, “Dad, y-you can’t—we shouldn’t, it’s bad.”

“So bad,” he simpers, kissing your neck. “But doesn’t it feel good? C’mon you know you want it. Let daddy stuff your sweet cunt, baby.”

Nodding, you kiss him, sloppily making out underneath the shower spray. His fat tip drags against your g-spot on every thrust, fucking you better than your last boyfriend by far. It really shouldn’t be this good between father and daughter, but now that you know how sweet this forbidden fruit truly is, you never want to stop.

He pulls away to mouth kisses across your jaw and down your neck, nipping at your pulse point. Drooling, you pant and gasp, knees digging into the tiled bench of the shower as Leon pounds into your clenching heat.

“Fuck, pussy’s so much better than your moms,” he grunts, fingers digging into your hips. “Like this tight hole’s made for my cock.”

“Daddy,” you whine, and he groans, biting down on the swell of your breast. “Feels so good.”

“Yeah?” He slows his pace, dragging his cock in and out of your cunt in deep strokes until you’re writhing against him.

“Want it fast,” you pout. “Please?”

“Don’t like being teased?” He chuckles, pressing a kiss on each of your nipples. “Let daddy play with you a little, sweetheart.”

Clit aching, you rock yourself against him. “But dad—“

“Shhh,” he nips at your stiff nipples, and you whine. “Just let me enjoy it. God, you’re so sexy.”

Pussy fluttering around his cock, you whimper, and he groans in satisfaction. “You like that? Yeah, best little pussy daddy’s ever had.”

He fucks you slow and deep, cock pumping in and out of your pussy while his mouth and tongue tease your nipples.

“Just think, if you let daddy knock you up, these gorgeous tits will be full of milk.” He bites your nipple roughly, a sharp pleasure that makes your pussy flutter. “Then daddy would have to help milk these fat tits every day.”

You hump down on his cock, thighs burning as you fuck yourself faster and harder against him. “Oh, god, dad, you’re gonna make me cum.”

“Fuck,” he groans, moving a hand between your bodies to strum across your senstive bundle of nerves. “Little clit’s so fat and slippery, baby.”

Keening, you thrash against him, arousal building higher and higher until it’s all white noise in your head. “‘M so close.”

“Cum for me, let daddy feel this little cunt squeeze his dick,” he coos. “Be a good girl and cream all over my cock.”

He pinches your clit a little harder, and it’s enough to snap that band wound tight in your lower belly. Your climax hits you hard, pussy squirting slick as your walls clench over and over while you shudder and writhe in his lap.

“Oh fuck,” he chuckles in disbelief. “Squirt’s more than just a nickname, huh?”

Thighs twitching, you slump against him, muscles too weak to keep you up. He wraps his thick arms around you and begins to pound up into your sopping wet pussy.

“Gonna cum, oh fuck, gonna nut in your hot little pussy, oh, oh, yeah, take it, gonna knock my daughter’s fat pussy up, breed your sweet little cunt,” he babbles against your neck, cock throbbing in your fluttering walls. “Oh, fuuuck.”

He buries himself to the hilt, shooting rope after rope of hot, thick cum inside your puffy cunt, letting your snug pussy milk every drop. He doesn’t pull out when he leans back and takes your chin in hand. Leon tugs you into a soft kiss, the sweetest one that you’ve shared thus far.

“Let’s go inside and continue this,” he nips your bottom lip. “We’ll worry about the consequences later. Daddy hasn’t had enough.”

He palms your belly, “Gotta make sure it sticks, too.”

A dull throb echoes through your cunt, “Okay, dad.”

#dead dove fic #real dad!leon s kennedy #daughter!reader #real dad!leon s kennedy x daughter!reader #fem!reader #leon s kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #fic request #kofi commission

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so-starz · 10 months ago

Text

˗ˏˋ⭒ things that make their heart flutter ⭒´ˎ˗

genre ? fluff reactions/headcanons , cw ? mentions of insecurities

bf!riize x gn!reader

⋆ note: first post! check pinned :3 might do little drabbles on some of these

将太郎⭒SHOTARO

[initiating hugs]

☆ shotaro’s love language is definitely physical touch

☆ so when you hug him from behind to surprise him

☆ or pull him into your arms in bed

☆ or bury your face in his chest as you squeeze him

☆ he feels like his life is complete

☆ adores when you run and jump into his arms after a long day

☆ just the feeling of being in your hold is enough for him

☆ he always makes sure to hug you back 10x tighter too

☆ (and no, he is never letting you go now)

은석⭒EUNSEOK

[dressing up for him]

☆ he thinks you always look pretty, no matter what you wear

☆ but when you dress up really nicely for dates, or to show off some new clothes you bought

☆ oh my god he loves it

☆ makes sure to compliment you every 3 seconds

☆ “you look beautiful”

☆ “that sweater looks so nice on you”

☆ fixes your jacket for you, smooths out your skirt

☆ silently admiring you the entire time

☆ you are his angel and he can’t believe he was lucky enough to be chosen by you

성찬⭒SUNGCHAN

[public skinship]

☆ sungchan loves to make sure everyone knows that he is yours and you are his

☆ like Yes you are taken and Yes he will bark at anyone who dares to think otherwise

☆ he always has a hand on your back, an arm wrapped around your waist or over your shoulders, etc

☆ but when you do it to him? he literally does a happy dance on the inside

☆ when you grab his hand and lace your fingers together

☆ or link your arm with his

☆ or hug his middle while waiting in line

☆ you are his Baby okay

☆ he thinks its so cute when you show him off to others

☆ it always puts the biggest smile on his face

원빈⭒WONBIN

[praise/compliments]

☆ you always have a knack for telling when wonbin gets in his head

☆ when his smile doesn’t reach his eyes, or when he’s even quieter than usual

☆ so you make sure to shower him in compliments and praise whenever you can

☆ telling him how hard he’s working and how good he is at what he does

☆ commenting on how pretty his eyes are, or how you like his new shirt

☆ you can see the stress leave his body when you praise him

☆ sometimes your reassurance is all he needs

☆ especially when he’s feeling insecure, he immediately searches for comfort in you

☆ because you always know just what to say

승한⭒SEUNGHAN

[random kisses]

☆ there’s nothing seunghan loves more than when you kiss him

☆ he’ll just be scrolling on his phone and you stop to kiss him on the forehead before going about your day

☆ or you could be in the middle of a conversation and then you randomly peck him on the lips

☆ it makes him smile so hard

☆ he could be having the worst day ever, but at least he knows he’ll be able to get a kiss from you later

☆ please cup his face kiss his cheeks when you see him

☆ if you kiss his neck while cuddling, he’ll literally melt in your arms

소희⭒SOHEE

[whispering in his ear]

☆ cuddles with sohee is a mandatory step in your nighttime routine

☆ and the atmosphere is always so soft and peaceful

☆ you always whisper an “i love you” into his ear

☆ or if you’re quietly talking about your day in your soft sleepy voice

☆ and he kind of dies inside everytime

☆ like his heart actually stops in his chest

☆ your voice is so beautiful to him, and when you whisper??? even better

☆ you make him feel so safe and he loves how vulnerable you can be around him

찬영⭒ANTON

[playing with his hair]

☆ it’s a subconscious habit you have, to mess with his hair, or twirl strands around your fingers

☆ and he falls for you all over again every time you do it

☆ when his hair falls into his eyes in the middle of a conversation and you reach up to brush his fringe to aside

☆ and if you make eye contact at the same time?

☆ anton.exe has stopped working

☆ he stutters in the middle of his sentence

☆ you always make him so nervous

☆ you can see him trying not to smile when you begin to play with his hair if his head is in your lap

☆ he's so soft for you, it's crazy

MASTERLIST

reblogs + feedback are greatly appreciated!

©️SO-STARZ

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moonstruckme · 10 months ago

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Whimsical!reader x Shy!remus 🤭🤭🤭 like the boys always try and get Remus to go out with them and he always tries to say no but James promises that Lily has a friend Remus might get along with and Remus is just so entranced by Whimsical!reader that he starts to come out of his shell and James is all 😏 “If I would’ve known it would end up like this I would’ve had you bring her around sooner, Evans”

Thanks for requesting my love!

Remus Lupin x whimsical!reader ♡ 933 words

“You can’t go home before ten,” Sirius insists, stepping through the front door as James chats with the party’s host, some co-worker of Lily’s.

“I can go home whenever I want,” Remus says gruffly.

“Give us an hour at least,” James negotiates as he breaks away from his conversation. He takes the lead of their little group automatically, navigating them through the house to the patio out back. “Lily’s friend is really sweet, I think you’ll like—hi!” His face splits open as he catches sight of his girlfriend, waving.

He hurries over for a kiss. “I’ve missed you, sweetheart.”

“I saw you this morning,” Lily reminds him, smiling against his lips.

“Too long a period of separation. Terrible.”

Despite the fact that they’re really being very tame, Sirius groans loudly.

“You live together,” he complains, “don’t you think you could do this another time?”

Lily rolls her eyes at him, but James straightens, recalling his primary aim of the evening.

“Right, this is Y/N,” he gestures to you, sitting with your feet tucked underneath you on the couch. He supposes you’ve found somewhere to stow your shoes away for the evening. “Y/N, this is Sirius” --Sirius shoots you one of his roguish half-grins. It slips a bit when you smile and nod politely, seemingly unaffected-- “and Remus.”

Remus raises his hand in a little wave, but it does nothing to dim the lustrous smile you send him. James nudges his friend your way, going to sit with Lily and leaving Sirius to go in search of drinks.

Lily’s done her job well. She’s chosen a quiet spot, tucked away at the fringes of the party, where you can enjoy the music without having to shout over it. James watches furtively as you take to Remus instantly, asking a steady stream of questions in your quiet, serene voice. Remus seems a bit tense, as if wary of some unknown form of verbal attack, but James is assured that he’ll relax soon. That tends to be your effect.

You’re an odd bird, but mellow in a way James suspects will appeal to his reticent friend. Over the years, he’s found that Remus doesn’t need to be pulled from his shell so much as he needs people to crawl in there with him. You seem like you’d be exactly the right fit.

“Neither of you are subtle,” Sirius says, returning with drinks for the three of them. “They’re going to scare if you keep staring at them like that.”

“Shit.” Lily turns quickly, accepting her drink and fixing her attention deliberately on Sirius. “Do you think they’ve noticed?”

“No,” James says. He has to hide a smile in his drink as you take one of Remus’ hands in both of your own. Remus’ face has turned stop-sign red, but you’re oblivious, running your fingers over his palm with tender care. “I think they’re too caught up in each other to pay us much mind.”

“What the hell are they doing?” Sirius leans against the back of the chair Lily and James are sharing.

Lily is visibly restraining herself from turning around to see what he’s talking about. James laughs, dipping his head to kiss her freckled shoulder.

“I think it’s a palm reading.”

“Oh, she’s freaky good at that,” Lily says. “I mean, I don’t want to believe in it and I don’t think I do, but she hasn’t been wrong yet.”

James raises his eyebrows at her. “That’s a lot, coming from you.”

His girlfriend scowls, sipping her drink. “I don’t like it.”

“I can’t believe Moony’s blushing just from her holding his hand like that,” Sirius marvels. He shakes his head, astounded. “This has got to be the most prudish flirting I’ve ever seen.”

“I’m not even sure she’s trying to flirt with him,” James admits. “I think this is just the way she is.”

Sirius scoffs. “Whatever it is, it’s working. Look at his mouth.”

James does. “Oh, shit.”

“What?” Lily evidently can’t stand it any longer. She turns around, but frowns when she sees nothing. “What is it?”

“He’s got his tongue tucked into the corner of his mouth,” James explains, leaning over to align her vision with his. “See that little bump? That’s his tell. He’s trying not to smile.” He sits back, smug. “He likes her.”

The more James watches, the more obvious it becomes. The faint flush that’s spread across Remus’ freckles, never really going away. The way he holds eye contact with you unfailingly, when ordinarily he’d be dropping his gaze. The tongue-tuck, which slips up occasionally as a bashful grin lifts the corners of his mouth.

James doesn’t know you as well as Lily does, but he thinks you must like Remus too, from the way you keep talking to him without ever looking for your friend to come rescue you. Soon the conversation seems to have found its rhythm, with Remus contributing as much as you do. He starts teasing you, a familiar hand on your knee or a quirked eyebrow at something you say, and you eat it up. Your laughter tinkles like windchimes, floating over the party even after he, Lily, and Sirius have stopped paying attention.

You move closer together over the course of the night. James’ one-hour stipulation passes, then another. Eventually, Lily is ready to go home and Remus hasn’t brought it up once. Probably distracted by the whisper of air separating his nose from yours.

James whistles softly. “Evans, if I’d known this would go so easily I wouldn’t have you bring her around a long time ago.”

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miguelhugger2099 · 8 months ago

Note

Hello sweetie, hoping you're doing well! What about bully punk Miguel and nerd pastel girl reader at college? (Miguel with 23 and reader with 21) Like reader was ugly and will have a glow up thanks to MJ and now Miguel tries to have her attention, they have a date and sweet and fluff smut!! (reader is virgin uwu) I'll let to you the creativity

Impurities

hello sweetheart you absolute DARLING i genuinely could be better but i hope ur doing great. i want to apologize for taking so long but i want u to know when i saw this i just about melted bc punk miguel is one of my guilty pleasures i adore him so much. this ask made me want to evolve it into a series i had like several different ways to make this but ahhhh i hope it's alright

Punk!Miguel x Pastel!Reader, Fluff and Smut, Word Count: 8,875 Art by: beawoodward on artstation !

You knew you weren’t the most appealing girl out there. You weren’t about to delude yourself otherwise. You knew what people said about you, how they looked at you. Your face could’ve been worse. Maybe some bushy eyebrows? You dressed…maybe a little different than most people. While the world was covered in grays and black, you opted out by showering yourself in the cutest pastel colors. You didn’t keep up with the trends and instead followed whatever you thought looked alright. It often led to some mismatching and awkward outfits but you didn’t think so! You entered campus with a light blue and pink striped pants with a pink belt and a baby blue sweater. Two low braids tied with white ribbons at the end and your white framed glasses on the bridge of your nose. Skincare was confusing to you so all you really did was wash your face with a harsh cleanser and hoped for the best which gave you some acne instead–making you pop them and leave some scars. You tried makeup but it just looked cakey so you settled with a messy and often uneven eyeliner. Regardless of your outfit, whether in a skirt or in pants, you were always decked out in some bright pastel colors and hair done in the same two braids. You held yourself close while walking around the halls, already used to people staring and calling you names from high school. College was a little more merciful, the whispers being just as loud but at least they’d never bully you to your face. You win some, you lose some. Your self-esteem had been damaged to the point of no return anyway, so any attempts of trying to prove you’re worth something would just be a pipe dream in your eyes. That’s why you push your glasses up and cling to your shoulder bag tightly in your fist as you pass by the usual group of boys to get to the front seat of your class. Your human biology class door was opened at the back so you’d have to pass the back seats to sit at the front. As usual, the group of boys were basically monochrome except for the little specks of red or blue if they ever decided to add color. But what was most noticeable about them was the so-called leader of said group. Unofficial–official– leader Miguel O’Hara, the senior who decided to take general education classes in his last year before graduating. His usual confident and toothy grin was on display, silver spider bites that his, also pierced, tongue would often play with. His big and heavy platform boots would rest on the chair beside him while his left elbow rested on the table, his hand combing through his long brown hair–shaved at the sides, mind you. He made sure to push his fringe back so everyone could see his double eyebrow and nostril piercing. Miguel’s hands were decorated with rings, big and small and his nails were short and painted black with some of it chipping off. His usual leather jacket with pins and patches, stretched and tight from his muscular build, was accompanied by a low red tank top with a spider symbol on the front. Black skinny jeans and a spiked belt that did little to actually keep his pants in place since the black and red band of his boxers were showing.

He listened mindlessly to his group of friends as they talked with each other, his fingers switching between playing with the dangling earring on his earlobe to his industrial bar. His crimson eyes glanced up when he saw you in your uncomfortably bright and awkward fashion sense. His friend tapped his shoulder and jutted his chin out to you before whispering something in Miguel’s ear that made him shove him away with a smile. Then they both laughed as quietly as possible, chuckling at what you decided to wear today: light blue overall shorts and a pastel yellow undershirt with white knee high stockings and white sneakers, your usual white ribbons at the end of your braids.

You usually sat alone at the front, placing your earbuds in to listen to music while you waited for the professor. Despite being at the front, you could still hear some faint chuckling and words being whispered from Miguel's group.

Still, you held your head up, taking out your notebook and expensive textbook. Clicking your pen, you began some light note taking before class started.

You sighed as you entered back in your dorm, dumping your bag at the door and kicking off your shoes. You faceplated down onto your bed while your roommate MJ looked over at you sympathetically.

You turn your head, cheek squished against the mattress. “I know that beauty is subjective and I'm not supposed to earn validation from anybody else but…” You sit up and rest on your legs, hands wringing in your hands with furrowed eyebrows.

“But…I want to feel pretty.” You admit softly, ashamed since you felt like you were betraying yourself.

MJ's smile grows and she eagerly jumps from her bed to kneel at your bedside. She takes your hands in hers and squeezes them reassuringly.

“You are pretty,” She insists. “But if you really want help, I can.” MJ tilts your head to look at her, a soft smile on her face.

You nod. “I do. I just want to know how to look like you.”

MJ shakes her head. “No. No, you already have your own beauty.” She places a hand on her chest. “I meant that I can help enhance it. No change to your core is necessary.” She pokes at your chest playfully and you both giggle together.

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

You take a moment to look at her. MJ really was perfect–shiny straight red hair, clear skin that was painted with freckles and a winning white smile. You hoped she could work some magic on you.

“Okay.”

Your transformation didn't happen overnight. It took at least a few weeks for it all to come together.

MJ had dragged you to salons to get your hair properly taken care of. Gotten your eyebrows plucked, eyelashes lifted, an effective skincare routine–that you struggled to drill into your regular schedule–and a new wardrobe that still held your pastel look, just a little more flattering. She even helped you get some contact lenses so you wouldn’t need your glasses all the time! To tie it all together, you two spent nights practicing how to do your makeup that wouldn't look so wobbly and uneven. Each day, you improved yourself. Your tacky overalls changed into fitted jeans or flowy skirts. Your baggy shirts were now cute tops that hugged each curve. Tennis shoes into heels or cute sneakers and your hair came to life with a beautiful shine; your white ribbon still in your hair.

One day, you entered class like normal. Except there were very few whispers this time, almost nonexistent. Still, you don’t let it get to you and continue like normal–walking to the front of the class and sitting in your usual spot. What wasn’t normal was a figure coming up beside you and pulling out the chair next to you. Miguel slipped beside you in front of the class, tilting his head as he stared at your side profile. You tried not to react but you subconsciously glanced at him from the corner of your eye.

“Hey.” He smirked, his eyebrow raising and his lips curling.

“Hello.” You murmured back, opening your notebook to the next blank page.

“New look?” He asked, using his hand to brush your hair back off your shoulder and you stiffened. He noticed you still had the white ribbon at the back of your head. Miguel’s eyes glanced back down at your body. Nicely fitted flare baby blue jeans, a cute pastel green heart belt with a crop top white sweater.

“Looks good.” He purred. You held your blue bunny pen in your hand tightly, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. You didn’t understand why he was speaking to you. He hadn’t before–other than laugh at you–so what gives?

“Thanks.” You say curtly. Miguel places a hand over her heart in feign hurt.

“Don’t be like that, nena. You look so cute, I didn’t expect you to be so cold.” He teased. He crossed his arms and rested his head on them to look up at you while you wrote the rest of your notes down before class started. Miguel watched as your false eyelashes fluttered, making your eyes look bigger. The subtle blush on your cheeks and the concealer that hid most of your past acne. He could still see some of the scars which makes him huff a small laugh at how cute it kinda looks. Your lips were more plump than he remembered–a soft pink to them. He lifts his arm up to rest his cheek on his fist, his eyes still on you. “How about I take you out?” Your pen slips and leaves a slash right down your notes. “What?” “A date. Does that sound good?” You don’t look up, instead focusing on your task at hand. “No. Can you please just leave me alone?” Miguel doesn’t say anything else but you hear the chair he sat on scrape across the floor as he gets up abruptly. You hear the laughter of his friends behind you and Miguel snapping at them. Your shoulders hunch over–the natural instinct to hide from embarrassment overcoming you again.

Every week, in the same class, Miguel would try again and again and again to ask you out. Each time, you would decline. It had gotten bad enough where he changed his seat to move beside you, offering his help when he saw you were confused and overall just trying to get on your good side. You wanted to be strong, truly you did, but it was becoming too much. When Miguel had asked again, you sighed loudly and faced him. “If I say yes will you leave me alone?” Miguel broke into a wide smile. Once you finally agreed to a date with him, you truly weren’t expecting anything good. So you stood by the place Miguel wanted you to meet him at: a local diner that was pleasantly pretty looking from the outside. Still, due to your past experiences of being ghosted and stood up, you watched the time on your phone. You decided that you wouldn’t wait more than fifteen minutes max.

To your surprise, you didn’t have to wait at all. You heard Miguel call your name from your left, his lips curled into a confident smile. Subconsciously, you eyed him up and down. He had baggy black cargo pants, accompanied with chains on his right side. A DIY-ed t-shirt that was sprayed painted over many many times. Of course, his iconic leather jacket was littered with various pins and patches. When he was close enough, you saw just a bit of eyeliner surrounding his eyes; and a new septum piercing. For the people passing by, it was quite a sight to see. Compared to Miguel’s dark but proud aura, you emanated a more sweet and bright vibe. MJ had helped you pick out an outfit, excited that you approached her with the dilemma of going on a date. You wore a sheer baby blue crop top cardigan with a simple white tank top underneath. A slightly darker blue pleated skirt with white thigh high stockings and ankle strap baby blue platform pumps. You held a small purse in your hands and looked up at him through your lashes. Your hair was pinned in a half up and half down hairstyle; your white ribbon at the back of your head. You thought it was a bit much, but MJ assured you that it was just enough. “Te ves muy hermosa.” Miguel speaks up, a grin on his lips. “All for me?” He teases with a tilt of his head. A piece of his fringe falling over his forehead. “Oh, please.” You look off to the side, ignoring the flutter in your chest when called beautiful. Miguel doesn’t take it to heart, instead going past you to open the door of the diner. He dramatically takes a bow, his arm ushering you inside. The theatrics make the corner of your lips quirk up and you enter inside, nodding to Miguel. You turn your head around to see the inside, wooden chairs and tables, a jukebox at the back with a shiny bar. “This way.” You stiffen when you feel Miguel’s breath by your ear. Before you could turn, he places his hand on your lower back and leads you to a booth by the window. He sits across from you, menus at the ready on the table. “You know, I used to come to this place all the time.” Miguel says, his eyes scanning the different options. “Used to be a hangout spot for me and the others in high school. College took up my time so it’s a pain in the ass not being able to visit more.” You glance up at him, shuffling in your seat. It felt a little weird to have him speak to you like this, as if he wasn’t teasing you a few months ago.

Luckily, a waitress comes up before you two with a notepad in hand. “Oh! A pretty girl! Didn’t know you were back in the dating scene.” She cackles to herself and pushes her glasses up. Miguel groans and rolls his eyes. “I thought you didn’t work Fridays, Lyla.” “Margo couldn’t make it, I needed extra hours–and now a bonus– I get to embarrass you. Everybody wins! Except you maybe. Waddaya want?” Lyla rests on one foot, her grin plastered on her face. Miguel’s smile was long gone, now snapping his order at his friend. You watched with an amused smile. They bantered like siblings. But what she said piqued your interest. He hadn’t gone around dating? You were snapped out of your thoughts when you heard Miguel call your name. His eyes were uncharacteristically soft. “Do you need another minute?” He asks. You stumble over your words and feel your cheeks burn. “No-no, uhm…” You look down at your menu and pick the first thing you see. “The, uh, chicken fajitas, please?” Lyla meets you with a smile and collects your menu. “Of course, darling.” She turns to take Miguel’s menu. “Couldn’t you have taken her to a nicer place? She’s all dolled up.” Lyla sticks her tongue out at him and walks away while Miguel’s cheeks burn red. Instead of facing you, he looks down at his hands and he picks at his black nail polish.

For once, Miguel had stayed silent. If you didn’t know any better, you would think he looked a little ashamed? Embarrassed? You could see him moving his spider bites nervously as he stares at anything besides you, his cheeks still tinged red. You pat your skirt awkwardly and clear your throat. “The…I like the diner. It’s got one of those retro vibes to it. It’s cool.” You give a small encouraging smile. For some strange reason, you thought his quietness didn’t suit him. Miguel’s eyes dart to yours and then at the window. “You think?” His hand reaches up to play with his dangling earring. It was almost cute. Just a bit. You chuckle softly. “Yeah, I mean. It’s like being in one of those time machines.” Miguel smiles. “Time machines? I think a time machine would look cooler than this dump.” You playfully smack his hand across the table. “Didn’t you say you used to come here years ago? Don’t call it a dump.” You fold your arms on your chest. You didn’t know this, but Miguel in that moment felt the tension he didn’t realize he had fell off his shoulders. “Eh, it’s a little bit of a dump.” He leans back and stretches his arm on the backseat. “But it’s like you said: a little retro.” Lyla returns with two glasses of water. “One for the cutie,” she places one on your side, giving you a wink. “And then Miguel.” She unenthusiastically hands Miguel the cup.

Miguel frowns at Lyla, a familiar bubble of jealousy brewing in his chest. “Lyla.” He warns. “What?” She stretches out the word. “Just being a good hostess.” She huffs with a pout and walks away. You giggle to yourself and Miguel notices. He’s quick to speak. “Ignore her. She’s always trying to be annoying.” He didn’t like the way Lyla was buttering you up, even if it was just a joke. He wanted you to smile at him like that. “It’s funny. I never thought I’d see you looking so bothered. How do you know her?” You smile and take a sip from your water. Miguel scratches the back of his head. “Middle school. We were in the robotics club.” You blink. “Robotics club? Really?” “Why’re you so surprised? What? A guy like me can’t be into things like that?” He smirks, placing his arms on the table and his pins rattle as he moves. “Well…kind of?” You smile weakly and laugh when Miguel pretends to be hit. “No, but seriously, robotics isn’t what I expected from you.” “Well, it was middle school. I’ve grown up into a man. This time I’ve taken an interest in being a geneticist.” He rests his head on his hand. “Don’t judge a book by its cover, nena.” He teases but you pause. That phrase is a little ironic for him to say, you thought to yourself. Shaking off that feeling, you continued to chat with Miguel. Talking about your interests, past, future and current studies. All while Miguel would try to sneak little touches, whether it be his boot tapping your heel or his hand brushing against yours when handing you a bottle of ketchup. After spending enough time at the diner, the sun was beginning to set. Before you left, Lyla convinced you to convince Miguel to give her a big tip and told you she hopes to see you again in different circumstances. Miguel holds the door open for you again and the bell dings your departure from the diner. His fingertips gently brush against yours, catching your attention.

“There’s…there’s this other place I wanna show you.” He bites his lip, peeling off the skin. His index finger loosely wraps around your pinky. “Sure…” You say hesitantly. He notices your hesitance. “It’s nearby. Just for a little bit and I’ll take you home.” The wind breezes through, giving you a glimpse of the cool air that will befall once nighttime arrives. You shiver and tuck into yourself to hide from the wind. Miguel takes off his jacket and slips it around you. Feeling the heavy material on your shoulders, you look up at him and feel the warmth go around your torso. Miguel’s eyes are focused on making sure it’s snug as it can be. It’s so large that it ends around your midthigh. He takes your little purse and pops the collar of his jacket up. “Put your arms through the sleeves so it doesn’t fall.” You blink and do as he says with a flustered expression. While shuffling your arms through the holes, you try not to glance over at him. His t-shirt was cut at the sleeves that showed off his toned arms. Despite the cold approaching, he seemed to be relaxed as he watched you, making sure you stayed warm. “Good?” He asked. Your fingers barely poked out, his jacket covering most of your outfit. And it was warm. It smelled like him.

With a satisfied smile, he slyly takes your hand in his and leads you away. You try not to focus too hard on the way his hand engulfs yours. After following Miguel in twists and turns, you eventually walk up a hill and at the very top stood a single bench with a view of the entirety of Nueva York. Your eyes widened and you let go of his hand to approach near the ledge, placing your hands on the railing. The lights of the city illuminated the night sky and acted as stars. You saw them twinkle along with hover cars that zoomed past you. “This is…” “Where I planned to take you another day. But Lyla pissed me off and I wanted to prove that I could take you somewhere nice.” He comes behind you and slings an arm around your waist. You look up at him with an amused smile. “Did you really take that to heart?” Miguel pouts his lips, his eyes looking off to the side. “I couldn’t let her make me look stupid in front of you.” You laugh, using the sleeves of his jacket to cover your smile. Miguel sees and he has a faint smile of his own on his face. He leads you back to the bench where you two sit in quiet comfortable silence after an afternoon of learning about one another. As you look over at the city with him, you couldn’t help but notice the nagging feeling in your chest. This was a date. A date that only happened because you changed yourself. A date with the person who laughed at you.

“Hey, Miguel?” You speak up quietly. He hums and looks over at you. “I…I don’t want you to be nice to me just because I got a little…prettier.” Miguel looks down at you with a frown. He stuffs his hands in his pockets while he looks back at the skyline. He says your name softly to grab your attention. “I’m not being nice just because you’re pretty.” You scrunch your eyebrows and scoff. “Yeah, I’m sure all those times you laughed at me was just you being a charmer.” “Laugh at you?” He raises his eyebrows and you look away. “Nena, I wasn’t laughing at you.” “Don’t lie to me, Miguel. I’m used to it. No use in sparing my feelings.” You sigh. “But I wasn’t,” He insists. He wants to reach for your hand, to touch you but he stops himself. “Really, I was…admiring you.” You roll your eyes. “Now you’re really being a jerk. There was nothing to admire when I looked…stupid and ugly.” “You did not.” He turned you to face him by turning your chin softly. “So you’re saying the way I looked before wasn’t stupid?” You glare at him but Miguel can’t find it in him to take it badly. “You were cute. The way you dressed and looked, it was awkward–sure–but it was adorable.” He chuckles but your frown deepens, feeling the tears bubble up in your eyes as you turn away from him. Miguel calls your name again. “I’m the last person to judge anyone for how they dress. Look at me.” Miguel flicks his multiple ear piercings, pulls on his snake bites, stretches his tattered and ruined t-shirt and slams his dirty platform boots to the ground. “A freak. You were just a cuter version.” “Then why did you talk to me now?” You murmur.

“Because you suddenly changed. I wanted to know what was up.” “And…the sudden date?” “Your transformation gave me the courage to speak to you. It was my chance–an excuse to talk to you.” Miguel says softly. “Though you did reject me twelve times. I was starting to lose hope.” “It was not twelve times.” “It felt like twelve times.” “...You have to admit that I’m…much more appealing now than I was before.” Miguel sighs. “Nena, the only thing different about you is clear skin and some clothes. Everything else is still you. You were pretty underneath, you just enhanced it. At your core, you’re still you. Bright and colorful.” He bumps your shoulder. You smile shyly and look in your lap. “MJ said something similar.” “MJ?” “My roommate. She helped me with, y’know, everything.” It was still hard to believe. Over two decades of being told otherwise was not going to go away by a single conversation but it still warmed your heart to hear something positive about you for once. You don’t say anything else and Miguel takes his chance to wrap his arm around you, bringing you to his chest. With flushed cheeks, you look out into the open where the skyline is feeling at peace and just a little pretty.

You two had arrived at your dorm and you faced Miguel shyly. Your eyes looked at the ground as you felt your cheeks heat up. “This is my place.” You state and Miguel chuckles, the sound of it sending your heart pumping. “I see that.” He says, taking a step toward you which makes you take a step back. “I had fun.” You whisper softly, your eyes landing on his chest. You see Miguel’s hand lift up to your chin and make you look into his eyes. Your cheeks burn since he keeps his hand on your chin to make sure you wouldn’t look away. “Me too.” He murmured, his red eyes looking like they turned a darker shade when he glanced at your lips. He takes another step towards you and you take another step back. You feel your head hit the door and realize you’re now trapped between it and him.

You hold your breath and can only feel the pounding of your heart in your chest and Miguel’s calloused fingers holding you still. Miguel then uses his other hand to hold your hip, his thumb trying to slide under your tank top. Your hands raise up to hold onto his biceps, shivering when your skin meets his. He was warm. “I…kind of don’t want this to end.” You admit softly. Miguel’s grin grows wider, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek which makes you weak in the knees. “Then it doesn’t have to, muñequita.” His hand leaves your chin to cup your cheek. He glances up above your head. “Your roommate home?” He asks. Your eyes never leave his face, your pupils dilating and a weird feeling starting to brew in your stomach. “No,” You squeak out and he looks back down at you. “She’s–She’s, um, out with her boyfriend.” Miguel hums, another glance to your lips. “Then…will you invite me inside?” He asks, leaning down so his lips just barely graze yours. Not quite a kiss yet. Your breath hitches and you nod a few times before speaking. “Mhm, okay.” You reach your hand behind you to grab the doorknob and twist it open. You stumble backwards but Miguel quickly wraps his arm that was on your hip around your waist. He then makes you walk backwards while he could shut the door behind him. You had your arms around his neck and looked up with wide eyes and a fast paced heartbeat. Miguel huffs out a chuckle. “You okay?” “Mhm!” You squeak. He squints down at you in playful suspicion but brushes it off. He bends down to where his lips brush yours again and finally dips low enough to kiss you. Your first shared kiss. You stumble with how to kiss, especially when the other person has piercings, but with someone like Miguel, you quickly learn and get the hang of it. Soft kissing noises sound between the small space of you two and he gradually moves from your lips to your cheek and down your neck. His arms around your waist tug you closer, bending you back and he moves you further back to where your calves hit the mattress of your bed. One hand rises up to pull his leather jacket off your shoulder, gently nibbling across your skin before reverting back to your throat. With his lips on your neck, Miguel could feel your pulse going wild, heartbeat going crazy each second. He decides to check in. “You okay?” he murmurs with a smile, his lips finding yours again for quick kisses. “Yeah, yeah, I’ve just–” kiss “Just–” kiss “Y’know, never–” kiss, kiss “Done this before.” He pauses, stiffening before he pulls back. “Wait. Are you saying this would be your first time…having sex?” Your heart sinks. That was bad wasn’t it? “No, it’s not bad.” Miguel shakes his head. You didn’t realize you voiced your concerns. “I’m just surprised, is all. Usually people have done it already.” You look away from him, visibly uncomfortable that he’s lowkey making fun of you. Miguel realizes the damage and quickly tries to fix it. “But there’s nothing wrong with it, nena! I didn’t mean–” He sighs, scratching the back of his neck. He looks around your dorm room. Your side is filled with cute things like plushies and fluffy blankets–a strawberry duvet all in the same hue of pastels.

“Look. We don’t have to do anything. I don’t…want to make it seem like I’m only here for that.” He shrugs his leather jacket back on your shoulder. “Because I do like you, nena. I’m willing to wait or if you never want it then it’s whatever. I just would really like a second date at least. Maybe at a nicer place like what Lyla said. Maybe I could clean myself up.” He gives you a weary smile. You stare at his hands that hold onto the zipper part of his leather jacket. For a while, you don’t say anything. “What if I don’t want to wait.” You mumble. You look up with some determination on your face. “I…I want to. With you.” Miguel takes his hands off you. “Wh–Are…are you sure?” You slip his jacket off you and let it fall to the side, stripping off the first piece of clothing from yourself. Your mouth is tight, heart hammering in your chest and cheeks feeling that familiar prick of heat up your neck but you’re sure of yourself. You want this. Miguel rakes his eyes up and down your body as you stand before him. “Alright.” He breathes out, undeniably attracted to you at this moment. “But this will all be at your pace, okay? I’ll make you feel good.” He purrs resting his hands at your hips and your facade crumbles slowly and you get shy again. He sits you down on your bed and he kneels before you, his hands on your thighs. He takes your right foot in his hands and carefully unbuckles the ankle strap of your pumps and slides it off. You cover your mouth, heart pounding at the intimate yet innocent act of him taking off your heels. He does the same with your other heel and sets it to the side.

Miguel then looks up at you from his lashes, his confident ones meeting your bashful ones. Taking your right leg again, he slips your thigh high stocking off you and does the same for your other leg. He places his hands on your knees and slowly spreads your legs apart to give you time to stop him. You don’t. “Come closer, mami.” He murmurs, sliding his hands up to grip the flesh of your thighs. You let out a weak mewl and scoot closer to the edge of your bed. Miguel bunches your skirt up, groaning and feeling his cock twitch in his pants when his eyes land on your pastel pink panties, a sweet little bow in the middle like you were a present for him. “Tan bella,” He murmurs, unable to hide the utter desire he has for you. You cover your face in embarrassment as he spreads your legs wider. His lips graze over your thighs, pressing kisses as he makes his way up. You feel your heart skip a beat everytime you feel his warm breath. Your hands clutch your strawberry sheets and he notices.

“You can hold onto me, mami.” He purrs and you swallow the lump in your throat.

“Wha…how do I..?” You feel stupid, your hands raising up and unsure of where exactly to put them. Miguel takes your hands and places him in his hair. His fingers curl around yours so you could grip onto his strands.

Feeling your face burn, the sight of you holding onto him while his eyes bore into yours. You instinctively clench your fists, his hair being tugged on in the process which makes him groan and close in his eyes. He likes a bit of pain, it seems

Miguel's hands return to your thighs, wrapping his arms underneath to tug you closer to his awaiting mouth and to keep your legs apart. “Hips up, mama.” He purrs and you do as he says, making him slip your panties off.

He discards them off to the side and delves between your thighs. His nose nudges your nub and you gasp, pursing your lips and gripping tighter on his hair.

“Miguel!” You whimper and he hums in response. You feel the metal ball of his tongue piercing curl inside you–it was strangely pleasurable. You didn’t expect it to feel so good. You rest on one hand behind you, the other still planted in his hair as you bucked forward on his tongue. Miguel the munch that he is, grins against your folds and licks a long stripe up before spitting and devouring your sweet nectar again. You felt the sudden slimy wetness hit your nerves and you yelped in surprise. Just as quick, you fall into submission when his skilled tongue swirled in little number eights. Your eyes were closed shut, your hand pulling Miguel closer to which he obliged. He then surprises you by sticking one of his thick fingers inside you. “Oh my…god.” You moan, your body growing hot and sweaty underneath all your clothing. “Miguel…” Miguel’s mouth moves in rhythm, his lips kissing your pussy as he drinks whatever your sweet cunt offers him. He could stay like this forever, cleaning your mess up and licking you for all eternity. His rings nudge your folds, the metal a stark contrast from his rough fingers. He pumps a second finger inside and it’s a bit of a stretch that feels good enough for you to thrust harder. “Mmm, yes…oh, I’m so close…” You mumble to yourself, chest heaving as you come closer and closer to climax. Unexpectedly, Miguel pulls away from between your legs. The pleasure being ripped from you and you struggle to lift your head as he pulls off you. The look in his eyes is different. More lustful, more hungry.

“If you’re gonna cum, I want you cumming around my cock.” He groans and wipes his lips with the back of his hand. Miguel stands up and gets into bed with you, shoving his platform shoes and pants off. While he gets on top, you rest back into your bed and your eyes become big and wide–darting between his face and between his legs. “Is it–will it hurt?” You bring your hands to your chest, clutching the fabric of your tank top. Miguel lifts your chin up to him. His eyes are kind and soft. “It’s not supposed to. I’ll make sure it won’t.” He grabs the waistband of your skirt and tugs it off your legs, throwing it with the other forgotten clothes. His hands make his way up your body, helping you remove the sheer cardigan and sliding your tank top up and over your head. Miguel chuckles at the heart patterned bra you wore. He leans over to kiss your neck and you sigh. The feeling of his lips sucking and tongue licking you was surprisingly pleasurable. Instinctively, your reach around his shoulders to hold onto him, your back arching to be chest to chest with him. Miguel’s hands go under your back, holding you up while he quickly unclasps the bra. Feeling the loss of your support, you whine but Miguel kisses you before you become louder. He places you back down on your back and finally removes the last piece of clothing. Miguel admires you from above, his hands at your waist, rubbing up and down your sides as he feels your curves. “Perfecta. Eres mucha mujer.” He whispers while trailing his lips along your collarbone. You whimper, feeling your cheeks burn and grow hot to the touch. His breath ghosts over your breasts and he stares up at you maintaining eye contact. Miguel notices something in your hair; your white ribbon, still tied in your messy hair. His heart swells and smiles, reaching up to brush your hair away.

He kisses down the valley of your breasts and around your nipple. He glances up at you every so often to make sure you’re not feeling any sort of discomfort. He can feel your heart pounding underneath his palm. Miguel wraps his lips around your nipple and sucks softly. You gasp and hold your breath for a moment while his cold tongue piercing swirled around your nipple, his spider bites and nose piercing pressed against the softness of your tits. You stare up at the ceiling as the warmth in your body flooded down to your core. “Oh! M..Miguel…” You whined, your hands curling in his hair where you felt most comfortable. Miguel flicks his finger around your other nipple, pulling and bullying it until it becomes erect and perky. Even then, he twists it and gropes your tit in time with his sucking and biting. Your hips buck up, feeling your pussy throbbing uncomfortably. When you hit his bulge, Miguel moaned and grinded himself to your soaked pussy in soft circles. Your juices left a stain on his boxers in your desperate attempts at relief. He lets go of your tits–leaving a small bite mark– and continues to kiss down your body. “Gracias a Dios por mandarme esta belleza.” He murmurs, digging his hands into the plush of your hips when he raises your thighs up. Suddenly, he stops and lets go of you. “Shit, shit, fuck–hold on.” He mumbles and gets off you. You feel cold and watch as he gets off the bed and picks up his pants from the floor and searches through his pockets. “Did I…do something?” You ask, worried you might’ve done something that made Miguel regret touching you. He shakes his head. “No, no–just–ah, there it is…” He chuckles to himself after finding his wallet and pulling out a small square packet. He pushes his fringe back with one hand as he gets back into bed. Miguel shuffles down his boxers after putting the packet between his teeth. “I’ll get you pregnant some other time.” “What?” “What?” You close your mouth and hear ringing in your ears. You were sure that steam would be coming out of your head at this point–your mind felt like mush with how easily flustered he made you. Miguel looks down at you and huffs a small laugh, letting you know he was joking. Maybe. Hopefully.

His cock springs free once his boxers are off and he groans when it slaps his stomach, leaving a bead of his precum on his tip. Your eyes shamelessly stare at him. You were by no means an expert when it came to sex but you grew both worried and aroused at how massive he was. “There is…no way it’s gonna fit.” Miguel rips the plastic with his teeth and rolls the condom on his dick to the base. For a moment, you’re disappointed that he added protection. Just for a moment, though. He breathes out and gives soft strokes to his shaft while looking at you from beneath him. He feels his cock pulse and throb, growing harder by the second just by the sight of your perfectly sculpted naked body. He thought you were divine. Placing his hands on either side of your head, he leans down to kiss you as if trying to ease your worries. “It’ll fit, I promise. It’ll feel so good, too.” He whispers, his lips brushing against yours. “I’ll go slow.” He takes one hand to lift your thigh up just enough to give him space to rub his cock between your wet folds. “Miguel…!” You gasp while you feel just how hard he was. He shushes you. “I know, nena. Look what you do to me. Feel what you did to me.” He buries himself in your neck, nipping at your skin and you tilt your head back. More of your arousal soaks his cock, creating wet sounds while you grind on each other and Miguel shudders. He bites into your shoulder and fights against his instinct to shove his cock inside and fuck you into your own mattress. Miguel kisses the spot he bit, his breathing labored and heavy. “Tell me if it hurts, mama, okay?” You nod, your eyes screwed shut. “Uh-huh…” Slowly, Miguel looks down and makes sure his tip splits your folds apart as he enters inside you. Your breath hitches and you tighten your arms around his neck. “Miguel!” You whine while he penetrates you. He kisses your temple and stops when only his tip is inside you.

“You’re doing great, nena. No te preocupes, lo estás haciendo bien.” He reassures you with a shaky voice. It’s clear he’s holding back. You whimper apologies and Miguel kisses across your cheeks to try and return your focus on him instead of the new stretch you’re feeling. He praises you in a mix of Spanish and English–ones you can barely hear. He moves his hand down between your legs and gently rubs your clit with your thumb in hopes of loosening you up. With the added stimulation, you moan and hide in his neck with your eyes shut. You weakly thrust up, feeling a bit of relief and allowing Miguel to push further in. “Good, good,” He purrs. “Just like that, mama. Just let me in.” He groans and hisses when you clench around him. Miguel’s thumb switches between a fast and slow pace, sliding in his cock easily until you cry out and dig your nails into his skin, leaving small crescent shapes. “Stop, stop–” You whimper. “I’ll pull out–It’s okay–” “No!” You keep him close to you. “No, I just–I need a minute.” You sniffle, your body slowly adjusting around his girth. Miguel nods and pulls back enough to meet your eyes. “Okay. Okay, whatever you need. At your pace, remember?” He rests his forehead against yours. You open your eyes to see his cheeks flushed, a bit of sweat running down his temple and he shakes with every breath. Despite his current state of desire, he’s putting you first–he’s putting your comfort first. “Thank you.” You whine softly. Miguel huffs, leaning down to kiss the corner of your eyes. “Don’t thank me for that, nena. Never.” Miguel continues to pamper you with kisses, murmuring about how beautiful you are, how well you’re taking him, how he can’t get enough of you. He nuzzles into your neck, rolling lazily over your clit and does gentle thrusts of whatever you were able to handle. After a few moments, you grab his attention by running your hands through his hair, fingernails scratching over his shaved parts. “Okay…more, please.” He lifts himself up and holds your hips with both his hands. His thumbs caress your hip bones as he pushes himself deeper. You moan and tilt your head back, biting your lip as the combination of pain and pleasure hits your stomach and through every nerve in your body. It felt like forever until he reached the hilt, the light smack of his balls hitting your pussy. Miguel smiles. “Good girl,” he licks his lips. “Mirame.” Your head tilts back down to see both of you finally connected. “Holy shit…” You whisper, the sight making you clench. Miguel moans and grips your hips tighter, his head falling forward as he takes a deep breath. “Fuck, don’t tighten around me like that.” “Sorry!” You squeak and he chuckles. He raises his head back up, hair falling in front of his face and a lazy smile on his face that shows his fangs–his piercings glinting in the dim moonlight. “Don’t be. It’s just, you feel so fucking good–you’ll make me cum.”

You cover your face and resist the urge to scream. The heat emanating from your face made you sweaty. Miguel takes your wrists and pins them to the side of your head. He cocks a pierced eyebrow up with a smirk. It softens when he sees just how flushed your expression is. “‘m gonna move, okay?” You gulp and give him the green light. Miguel looks down and slowly pulls out, watching your slick drench his condom covered cock. “Jesus…” He groans under his breath. He looks back up to see if there’s any sign of discomfort on your end but he’s met with your eyes glued between your legs as well. Your eyebrows are scrunched up in pleasure, mouth agape with shallow breaths while you watch him slowly ease out of you. Miguel’s eyes darken with lust and he pushes back in once his tip was kissing your heat. He watches as you roll your head back, your eyes rolling behind your skull when you felt his cock filling you up again. “Oh my God…” You moan. “Miguel…” Miguel’s heart jumps and his hands tighten around your wrists. Still, he’s careful. For a few minutes, Miguel continues his slow thrusting. He pulls out sweet moans and whimpers from you, getting you used to his massive size and stretching your cunt out to the shape of him. His tip nudges against your cervix and you jump which makes him grin. After those few minutes, you began writhing underneath him. The pain had subsided and now this soft stroking was sweet but it wasn’t doing anything for you anymore. Your hands clenched and unclenched into fists.

“Miguel, Mig–more,” You begged. “Faster.” “You sure?” He slows to a stop and you furrow your eyebrows in annoyance which he doesn’t notice. He’s about to ask again after your lack of response when you lock your ankles around his waist, shoving him back inside you. You and Miguel moan in unison, Miguel nearly falling on top of you if he didn’t catch himself by resting on his elbows by your head. His breath fanned your face and he looked down into your eyes with a heavy blush. “More.” You moan and Miguel quickly goes to work. He leans on one elbow and places his other hand down to your hip to start picking up his pace. Miguel attaches his lips to your chest, biting the plump flesh of your tits before taking your nipple in his mouth once again. Your hands go around his back, your nails raking down his spine that leave red streaks. He pushes himself further against you, folding you in half while he increases his speed, abusing your pussy by slamming his cock in and out of you. Your squealing and moaning becomes music to Miguel’s ears. He groans and licks his tongue around your nipple, lapping it back in his mouth to suck on it. His nails dig into your waist while the sound of skin slapping signaling just how desperate he is to fill you with his cock. “Atta girl,” He moans after moving up to your neck with wet open mouthed kisses. “Knew you could take all of me. Knew you would sound so pretty crying all over my cock.” He smirks, looking up to see your eyes rolled back, tears brimming your eyes in ecstasy instead of pain this time. Your pussy spasms around him as you whimper.

“Mig–Mig–” You babble mindlessly. The only thing on your mind is Miguel, Miguel and Miguel. “So–so good…” You slur, vision going hazy while the lust clouded your mind. Miguel’s ego inflates, his dick twitching inside you. Even with a condom he could still feel your pussy contract around him, your warm walls sucking him in deeper. Your hips wiggle and buck weakly to match his thrusts but ultimately Miguel does all the work, sending your mind spinning while he practically fucks all your thoughts, fears, and insecurities from your brain—turning you into a dumb cock-drunk mess. Through the haze, you can hear your juices sloppily smacking between you and Miguel–an erotic sound of wet plaps, his balls becoming slick and sticky with your arousal. “God, you feel so good,” He moans, hips stuttering. “It’s like your cunt is just begging for my cum. You want it? Huh? This tight little pussy gonna milk me dry?” He quickened his pace, humping against you in fast short thrusts. You scratch his back, multiple lines of red marking his skin while your toes curl. “Yes, please, please, please–I wanna,” You babble through gasps. “It’s so good–I wanna cum–Don’t stop…!” Your voice becomes high pitched, your hips lifting to grind yourself on him. The both of you fucking one another exactly like horny college kids. Miguel growls, nipping at your neck to add more hickeys to your body. “Never. Holy shit–you’re so fucking sexy,” He cuts himself off with a groan, his sweaty forehead falling to your shoulder while he humps you. “Never letting you go. This pussy is mine.” His thumb finds your clit again, his fingers slowly being drenched with your messy juices that had spread all around your labia, smearing around your pussy with the help of Miguel’s unstable thrusting. His cold rings bumped against your hot skin, the difference in temperature becoming another factor in your raw lust. Your screams of pleasure bounced off the walls. “C’mon pretty girl. Cum for me. I know you’re close.” He pants in your ear.

“Mig–gy!” You choke out, eyes squinted in ecstasy as Miguel helps you reach your climax. It wasn’t anything you’ve experienced before. White hot numbing pleasure waving through your body as you spasmed. Your orgasm shook your entire body and you clutched onto him tightly, your legs keeping him near, nails finding purchase in his back and arching your breasts up to his chest, nipples sensitive to the touch. Miguel followed right after: rubbing your clit faster and his balls ached with a tightness before releasing his seed into the condom, his cock twitching as it spurts out his cum. He moans loudly, his body shivering and shaking along with you but he still helps you come down from the high, pumping weakly as he empties himself. Your body falls limp, head lolled back while Miguel breaths heavily. He pulls out as gently as you can but your virgin cunt wasn’t used to such stimulation, each inch back caressed your sensitive nerves up until he finally left with a pop. Miguel’s hands shook as he took off the condom, body now covered in cold sweat now that the heat of the momentum was gone. He stumbled off your bed and tied the condom shut then dumped it in the small bin in your dorm room. He slipped back in your bed beside you, smiling to himself when you took deep breaths with your eyes closed. “Hey, you alright?” He asks with a soft wheeze. “Huh?” You barely heard him over the heartbeat pounding in your head. The blood flow goes through your body normally once again. “Hm? Oh. Mhm. Yeah.” Miguel chuckles, resting on one elbow with his cheek in his palm and brushes your sweaty hair back from your face. “Yeah? You were amazing.”

“Really?” You try to look up at him through the exhaustion in your eyes. Who knew sex could take all your energy? Miguel grabs your folded fuzzy blanket and unravels it to drape it on top of you two. “Really. I’m honored to be your first.” You blush at the reminder that you hadn’t had sex before and the reminder that you were no longer a virgin. You stare at his face while his hands caress your cheeks, his thumb rubbing the side of your neck right under your jawline. “Do you really like me?” You find yourself asking him. Miguel’s hand stops moving and he looks surprised. “Yeah,” He confirms gently. “I wouldn’t fuck you if I didn’t. I don’t have sex with just anyone.” He pulls your cheek. You frown and pout at him. “I'm serious!” Miguel chuckles. “I know, I know.” He tilts your chin up with his index finger and leans down to kiss you sweetly for a quick peck. He knows what’s really on your mind. “My pretty girl.” He hums as he stares down at you to admire the afterglow of your orgasm. “All mine. My pretty girl.” He dunks his head down to your chest, wrapping his arms around you to pull you in his embrace and snuggles you.

Your heart flutters. Pretty. It hits you then that Miguel really does think you’re pretty. You feel his ear piercings against your chest and the rings on his fingers running up and down the curve of your spine. His fingers find your white ribbon, crumpled under you and he twirls it around his ring finger. You struggle to hold back your smile as you hug him back, nuzzling your nose in his hair and falling asleep with the comfort of knowing someone genuinely finds you beautiful, inside and out.

a/n: im sorry i wasnt normal i just love a good trope and punk miguel i cant help but make him cute

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #miguel ohara #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara imagine #spiderman 2099 x you #spiderman 2099 x reader #nonie requests ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

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bratbby333 · 6 months ago

Note

I got some thoughts 👀 can I request a little something? like reader finds herself in a situation where a guy is disrespectful to her and Geto steps in to defend her... she would be so relieved like 'thank you so much tall and beautiful stranger' 😍🥰 and he's probably like 'don't worry about it, it's whatever' but in the end he offers to walk her home and he fucks her against the wall things happen 😳😳

`⭐︎ ˑ ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ YOUR GUARDIAN STRANGER ! — feat. suguru geto

word count. 3.6k content warnings. characters are 21+, fem!reader x suguru, mentions of blood, allusions to violence, reader gets hit on and grabbed in the club, alcohol consumption, p in v, unprotected sex, use of pet names, dirty talk, thigh-riding, sugu fucks hard, one night stand, the pull-out method, non-curse!au author notes. thank you for ur ingenious request my sweet nonnie...i hope you enjoy xx not beta read !!

nsfw 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 mdni

A skin-tight dress. Four inch heels. Dark lip liner with a clear gloss on top. A few spritzes of Chanel No. 5, and you are out the door and heading to the club.

Everything is great; good vibes, strong drinks, pounding 808s reverberating off the walls. The liquor warms your stomach as your hips sway to the music, your over-worked body relaxing with every bump of the heavy bass. You take in the scene around you; drunk couples making out in the corner, a few underage kids getting thrown out, a group of friends arguing over god knows what– it’s all very entertaining. You laugh to yourself, your eyes scanning the room once more before your vision settles on the one thing you were trying to avoid. Shit. Your heart drops. Really? Did he not catch the hint the last two times? You sigh deeply, rolling your eyes as you prepare yourself for the inevitable. Not this again.

Because, of course, all good things must come to an end.

You're used to being hit on. But tonight, there is one guy in particular, unrelenting in his attempts to get close to you. He's shorter than average, the two of you being the same height when you're in heels. He reeks of liquor, cigarettes, and BO. His fringe clings to his forehead as he approaches you for the third time this evening, a disgusting smirk plastered across his face. He seems to have mistaken your accidental eye contact as an invitation to test his luck once more. With tense shoulders and an apprehensive tone, you offer him polite conversation. Not that you want to, but god forbid you reject him in just the right way to make him snap. You don't want to end up being a headline. Your eyes dart elsewhere, knowing damn well that if you look at him for too long you might gag. He is truly disgusting, rambling on and on about his podcast and his most recent bouts of buying and trading crypto.

It's a tough situation to navigate. You're out alone. Granted, you are at a club that you're comfortable in; you're familiar with the layout, you're friends with a few of the waitresses and bartenders. The DJ knows you by name. But, you're still riding solo in a loud, rambunctious environment. Even though there is a level of comfort here, it's still a club filled with drunkards at the end of the day.

With a fake smile and a couple nods of your head, you try to ignore the part of the conversation where he referred to himself as an “alpha male” as you accept the drink he presents to you, kindly excusing yourself before disappearing into the crowd once more.

A shudder runs down your spine, your body quite literally trying to shake away that awful conversation. God, he’s the worst. On your way to the dance floor, you pour the contents of the cup into the soil of a potted plant. He doesn't think you're stupid, does he? There is no way in hell you're drinking that shit.

You're dancing alone, enjoying the house mix that's bumping through the giant speakers, the colorful spotlights that bounce around your face as you feel yourself begin to relax once more. Finally, some much needed alone time. All you want is to let loose after an arduous week of working. Can't a girl have some peace?

"C'mon...just give me a chance." You don't even have to turn around to see who it is, you can smell him. Your nose scrunches up before you turn to face him, another fake smile pulling at your cheeks as you speak to him for the fourth time tonight.

"I'm sorry, but I'm just not looking for anythin'...I'm just tryna have fun," you say politely, before beginning to walk away. If you just keep moving through the crowd, he won't be able to find you again. But this guy is annoyingly determined and obnoxiously entitled, because after one step away from him, his hand grabs at your wrist, "We can have fun! C'mon...seriously?! I bought you a drink and this is how you treat me?"

As soon as the contact is made, your blood boils. Rage runs through your body as you spin around to chew him out for A, assuming some smelly asshole like him has a chance with you; B, for even thinking he could touch you, and C, the absolute nerve of this man to actually follow through with it.

But when you turn, you realize you can't see him anymore. Your eye line is obstructed by a broad, muscular back. Utterly confused, you step to the side in order to fully see what the hell is going on. The sweaty hand that was once wrapped around your forearm is now gripped by a large fist. Your eyes trail up to your savior, a damningly handsome man with jet-black hair.

"Do we have a problem?" a stern voice addresses the musty, shorter guy.

"Yeah, this chick's been flirting with me all night...I'm tryna get what I'm owed," he spits back, attempting to pull his wrist away, "Dude, let go...stop bein' a cockblock." The mystery man's face twists at the other's bold choice in words. You're shocked that he doesn't feel intimidated at all.

"What you're owed?" A deep chuckle emerges from the unknown’s chest as he stares down at him. "I dunno...it seems like she wants nothing to do with you," he muses, tightening his grip around the other’s arm.

He turns to address you, and you finally get to take a good look at him. His side-profile is god-like, but looking at him straight on is a whole different realm of attractiveness. The man's fucking gorgeous. You're too busy ogling him that you miss his question all together.

"S-sorry...what did you say?" You shake your head a bit, adrenaline pumping through your ears from this entire ordeal, the expensive scent of his cologne mixing with the pounding bass of the club; it's all making your head spin.

He laughs and leans down to your level, his head hovering just next to your ear. "You want me to get rid of him for ya?" he repeats, his breath brushing against your neck, sending shivers down your spine. He pulls back, looking down at you with his grip still tight around the other guy's arm. The pathetic man is squirming as the two of you share quite the intimate eye contact. You nod, your mouth dropping open as he drags him out of the club immediately.

You let out a deep sigh before making your way to the bathroom. You lather up your hands with soap and do your best to scrub away the feeling of that man's skin on yours. Leaning up against the sink, you take a few deep breaths before fixing your hair and reapplying your lipgloss. That man is vile, but you're not going to let that gross interaction ruin your night.

You make your way to the bar, keeping your head on a swivel in hopes to see your handsome rescuer once more, wanting to thank him for handling that for you. You pout a bit as you fail to see him on your trek, sighing as you place your order with the bartender.

You take a few sips before turning to walk back toward the dance floor, when you literally run straight into someone. "Fuck! I am so sorry, I-" but then you smell it, the same entrancing cologne as before. You look up and are met with a devious grin on the most angelic face you've ever seen. You smile, pushing your hair from your eyes, "I was looking for you." You sound relieved as the two of you stare at one another.

"Were you now?" he asks coyly, shifting his weight as he smirks down at you. You nod shyly, "Mhm...I-I wanted to thank you for earlier," you take another sip of your cocktail, hoping it will calm your nerves a bit, "I appreciate you stepping in, that guy couldn't catcha fuckin' hint," you laugh, looking away.

"Don't mention it. It's the least I could do," he responds. "I'm Suguru, by the way."

Turning to face him once more, you tell him your name with a kind smile. As the two of you make small talk, you notice his chest is heaving a bit, and with a quirk of your brow, you run your eyes down his body, realizing that his knuckles are bruised and slightly bloody.

"Oh...oh my god. Are you alright?" you ask, grabbing his hand. You bring his fist up to inspect it, the dim lights of the club not offering you much assistance. "Oh, yeah," he laughs, rotating his wrist so you can examine it further, "the blood's not mine," he grins. A laugh escapes you as you gaze up at him, still holding his hand in yours.

"Damn...you really did a number on him, huh?" Suguru laughs at this.

"Absolutely, he deserved it. Dude was a prick. I'm really sorry that happened to you," he sympathizes, watching as you grab napkins and a shot of vodka from the bar to wipe off the dried blood from his knuckles.

"It's alright, I'm used to it by now, but having someone step in and save me was definitely a first." He releases a jagged exhale as you pour the liquor over the small abrasions on his hand, "Sorry...gotta disinfect you. That dude was gross...I had to go scrub my arm off after he touched me," you giggle. He watches intently as you finish cleaning him up, his heart skipping a beat as you smile up at him triumphantly. You are quite the woman, cunning and confident. He likes that.

"There ya go," you chirp, before tossing the reddened napkins into the garbage can located nearby. His eyes run across your face and up and down your body, taking in every part of you. Poor thing. Though you seem so unbothered by that whole situation, there is a telling look behind your eyes, and Suguru notes that you are still a little shaken up. He would be crazy to let you wander back out there alone.

"Do you want to come hang with my friends? I promise they won't pester you like that dude did," he offers. He nods toward the booths that line the wall. "That's them over there; Shoko and Satoru." You follow his eye line, seeing a brunette woman accompanied by a blue-eyed man. They seem to be about your age, and you love meeting new people. You smile and agree, thanking him once more as the two of you make your way over to the table.

The rest of your night is spent laughing and dancing with the three of them. You learn that they all work for the high school across town, and that Shoko can really handle her liquor; Satoru cannot. You and Suguru are in your own world, chatting about everything and nothing, taking breaks to dance together when a good song comes on. His hands rest on your waist as you move your hips against him, your bodies fitting like you are made for one another. Suguru, being the gentleman he is, never pushes any further than that, allowing you to initiate the contact.

It's 2 AM when the four of you stumble out of the club, the tall blond leaning on his smaller friend's shoulders as she guides him toward the taxi. It's quite the amusing sight.

You stop short of the curb, wishing Satoru and Shoko a good night, before turning to Suguru. "Thank you again…for everything," you say, your voice raspier than usual from all the shouting you did inside the loud club.

"Of course. I'm just glad we got to spend some more time together," he says with a smile, ushering you toward the taxi. He's confused when you shake your head.

"I live like three blocks from here, I'm just gonna walk," you state. "It was really nice meeting you, you were great company," you smirk, heading down the road, your heels clacking against the pavement with every step.

A few unintelligible words are exchanged between Suguru and the taxi driver, followed by a car door slamming shut, before the sound of someone jogging catches up to you.

"You're crazy if you think I'm gonna let you walk home alone," he retorts, pushing you toward the inside of the sidewalk as he walks closest to the cars that pass by.

"You're quite the gentleman, aren't you," you tease, pushing your shoulder into his. He chuckles, "Can you blame me? I see a beautiful woman in distress, I have to jump in." You blush at his compliment.

"My knight in...," you pause as you run your eyes down his body, "...jeans and a black tee," you giggle. After sharing a few laughs, silence settles between the two of you as the cool air swirls around you. The occasional car passes by, but other than that, it's a quiet evening.

You glance at Suguru through your peripherals, enjoying the way his layered hair bounces with every step he takes. His cologne, though more subtle now, still wafts toward your nose. He really is beautiful. You wonder if it'd be too bold to see if he wants to continue your evening.

You walk toward the door to your apartment, turning to face him. It's now or never.

"You comin'?" You ask with a raise of your brow. He chuckles as he climbs the stairs, joining you by your side, "Thought you'd never ask."

You have never been into one night stands, but something about Suguru is irresistible. Whether it's because he saved you from that creep or because he is super fucking sexy, you know you need him. Now. The two of you barely made it through the doorway as you’re pushing him up against the wall of your foyer, your lips immediately finding his.

He's taken aback by your boldness, taking a second to register his surroundings before quickly flipping the two of you around, his hands cupping either side of your face as his knee wedges between your legs. His muscular thigh is pressed directly onto your core, the pressure sending waves through your body.

“Couldn’t even make it to the bed, huh?” he husks into your ear, placing a wet kiss on the sensitive skin below, nipping and sucking at it. Soft moans echo through the hallway as Suguru finds your lips once more, your tongues battling one another. You thrust your hips, rubbing your warmth against his leg. “Eager, are we?” he teases, lifting his leg more.

“Mmm…mhm,” you gasp as the contact intensifies. You’re already addicted to him, wanting nothing more than to feel him inside you. You grind your hips harder, pressing your drenched cunt firmly against his clothed thigh, certain that he can feel your pussy throbbing against him, the tightness in your stomach intensifying. Your cheeks fluster at how quickly he’s getting you to your breaking point without even having to do anything.

He breaks the kiss, watching intently as your hips gyrate against him. “Shit…are you gonna cum?” The tone of his voice is taunting, yet laced with desire. The sight of you using him to get off has him rock hard. You blush immediately, tilting your head away from him. You nod shyly, though your hips continue their pattern. “So fuckin’ hot,” his hand wraps around your throat, your head tilting to rest against the wall. “Uh uh, don’t get shy now…look at me.” Through low lids, you meet his gaze. His lower lip is between his teeth as he glances between your face and your cunt rubbing against his thigh. With a desperate whimper, you pick up the pace. “C’mon…that’s it–cum for me,” he growls, entranced by the fluid motion of your body. You come undone just a few minutes later with a whine and a few moans of his name. Your cum soaks through your panties and a guttural moan breaks through his chest as he watches you finish. “Fuckin’ drenchin’ me already, huh?” You blush profusely, your eyes screwed tight as embarrassment courses through you.

You yelp as he flips you around, your chest now pressed against the wall, your legs parallel with your shoulders. “All that cum ‘n I wasn’t even inside you yet…” He unbuckles his belt, shoving his pants and boxers down just enough to free his throbbing erection, “...can’t wait to see how much you cream on my cock.” You whimper at the filthy words that shamelessly fall from Suguru’s lips as he pulls your dress up and drags your panties down your legs. You aren’t much help, small pants leaving your chest as your body recovers from your unexpectedly intense orgasm. His lips part as he teases his thick tip along your slit, lubing himself with your cum. “You ready, doll?” His head shallowly dips in and out of your needy cunt, already loving the way you stretch for him. You hum, nodding profusely as you look over your shoulder. “Mm. Mhm…p-please fuck me,” you beg. Your words feel foreign to you as you say them, unsure of where all this submissiveness was coming from. But Suguru’s effortlessly domineering aura makes you want to bend to his every whim, to please him in any way that you can.

Inch by inch, he’s delving into you. The warmth of your dribbling cunt sucking him, the squelching sounds ricocheting through his head, the sinful moans that break through your throat–it drives him wild. He growls as your back arches, pushing him even deeper. Your ass flush against his lower abdomen, your eyes blowing wide at the damning stretch of his full length nestled deep inside you.

He stays still for a moment, allowing you time to accommodate as your gushy walls flutter around him. The pace starts slow, but Suguru’s patience wears thin, and after a few strokes he’s ramming into you, one hand wrapped around the front of your throat, the other pulling your hair into a makeshift ponytail as he bounces you on his cock. The scratches that should be left on the tanned flesh of his toned back are being dragged down your beige walls, your breasts rubbing against the cold plaster with every rough thrust of his hips, the sensation stimulating your budding nipples.

Every bump of his hips pushes his head into your sweet spot, his length caressing every part of you with ease. “Takin’ me so well,” he grunts as he rams into your furthest wall. You can’t suppress the cock-drunk whines that spill from you, your eyes welling with tears while delirious pleasure claws its way through your body, your tummy tightening as you clench around him. Your shoulders tense as your perch on your tiptoes, opening yourself up to take more of him–if that is even possible–praying he finds refuge within your womb. “Shit–” he hisses, his words nearly incoherent as the sound of skin against skin echoes through the hallway, “fuckin’ milkin’ me, doll.”

He releases your throat, the same hand trailing down your spine before his arm snakes around you, his nimble fingers strumming delicious circles against your throbbing clit. You cry out, eyes screwing shut as your legs shake. “Fuck…oh fuuuck–ahh! Gonna…’m gonna…” Your voice trails off, any semblance of a coherent thought cast to the wayside as a deep chuckle rumbles through his chest. Suguru leans down, kissing behind your ear before biting at your lobe. “I know,” he muses, his fingers work even faster against you, “Squeezin’ me s’tight…”, his hips shifting to push himself even deeper, “...C’mon. Make a mess ‘f me.” You reach your breaking point once more, lips parting as squirt spills out around his cock and dribbles down your thighs.

His release follows suit with a few raspy swears and sultry mumbles of your name. He pulls out, working his fist around his cock, his hot seed shooting onto your ass and lower back. Suguru places soft pecks along your neck and shoulders, working to regain his breath. He catches you as he untangles his body from yours, chuckling at the evident exhaustion of your body while your knees buckle, unable to support your own body weight as you lean against the wall.

After tucking himself away and a speedy rebuckle of his belt, he scoops you up in his arms, carrying you bridal style to your bed, setting you down on your plush duvet.

“Bathroom?” he asks. Your brows furrow before you comprehend his question, still dazed from the spell he cast on you. With a weak flick of your wrist, you gesture toward the closed door to your left. You watch with tired eyes as he returns with a damp rag, his soft touches along your weary body juxtaposing the meanness of his strokes as he mindfully cleans you up. With a quick kiss on your cheek and a soft mumble of “you were wonderful” into your ear, he smiles down at you before beginning to exit the bedroom. It’s crazy–insane, even–how much you want him around. You must be out of your mind…this near stranger—the fact that you even let him in your house is wild, let alone asking him to stay the night? But you want him to, so bad. There’s just something about him.

You sit upright, ignoring the ache in your lower back and the morality of your choices, your question flying from your lips before your brain can stop it. “Wait…can you stay?” Your words are soft as they drift through the air. He stops just short of the door, before turning and offering you a knowing smile, “I thought you’d never ask.”

author notes. certified sugu glazer…what can i say. i just cannot get enough of him ugh.

i’m still workin thru all my requests, i appreciate yalls patience w me 🤍

my reqs are closed atm, but thirsts + chats are welcome! come say hello ☺️

tag list: @admirxation @sadmonke @the-weeb-of-the-uchiha @call-memissbrightside (lmk if u want to be removed from tags🤍)

#—written by jade 🌿#support banner from benkeibear #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen writing #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk fanfic #jjk smut #jjk x reader #suguru x reader #suguru geto #getou suguru x reader #geto x reader #jjk geto #geto suguru #geto smut #geto x you #geto x y/n #bratbby333

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laiiaaa · 1 year ago

Text

SARDINES — CARMEN BERZATTO

summary Carmen seems a little off when you visit him, and you try to figure out why. For once, you pry him open.

length 3.2k

contents angst, hurt/comfort, he's really an angel even if he's closed off n stubborn, very very emotional, lots of negative self-talk from Carm, he cares so so much, relationship talk, everything resolves in the end dw <3

It takes more than a few knocks for Carmen to open the door. If you counted correctly, it took six tries, plus a phone call. So you shouldn’t be surprised that when he finally does open the door, he barely gives you a kiss on the cheek and mumbles Hey before turning his back to you again, back in the kitchen with his phone face up on the counter. He’s antsy, almost talking to himself, checking his phone every five seconds.

You walk in and lock the door behind you as you take off your shoes, and you drop your bag on the coffee table, which houses little else other than a remote and a day-old mug with coffee staining a ring in the bottom. “…Everything okay?”

He leans into the counter with his weight on his hands and spares you a glance and a haphazard nod. “Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine—just waitin’ for my guy to call back.”

“Isn’t it a little late for that?” Sitting down on the couch, part of you expects him to join you without being asked. Your back and feet ache, and all you want is for Carmen to lay with you, ease his hands up and down your spine, and watch the first thirty minutes of a random film before falling asleep.

“No, no—he usually answers when I need ‘im.” But he’s working. He’s at home, and you’re waiting on him, but he’s working. He seems to be prioritizing that a lot lately—a lot more than usual, at least. Running a hand through his hair, he watches the screen again, and mutters to himself, “Thirty fuckin’ minutes. Fuck you.”

You peek over the back of the couch. “Are you sure everything’s okay? You sound upset.”

“Yeah, baby, I’m—fuck this—” He derails from answering and instead picks up the phone again, calling and letting the dial tone ring out the second time this hour. He waits with his hand on his hip and his lip tugged between teeth.

You know ‘his guy’ doesn’t pick up when he drops his phone on the counter again with a sigh and another muffled profanity. “Carm?”

His head rests between his hands, but he lifts it to look at you. “Yeah?”

“Can you come sit with me, please?”

God, how you tug on his heart strings when you ask, your voice all sweet and dripping honey, you make it impossible to resist. “‘F course, yeah,” he answers, pocketing his phone and turning off the kitchen light before joining you.

He loops an arm over your shoulder as he presses his lips to your temple, and his heart skips a beat or two when you snuggle into him with your hand splayed against his chest. The two of you stare off at nothing in particular, soaking in the touch of the other. You smell so distinctly like you—like home—he’d be getting lightheaded in the best way if he weren’t so…so caught up in everything you help him escape: work, the fringe family, being so dead tired that in his mind he can’t tell where his kitchen ends and the fire begins. But that phone call he’s waiting on. It’s poking needles in the nape of his neck.

You sit up after a couple minutes, keeping a hand planted over his heart when you look at him. “I can literally feel how anxious you are.” He scoffs, but before he can protest you add, “Seriously, Carm, is everything okay?”

“Yeah, it’s—everything’s just…” He looks off into nowhere behind you, his free hand making circles in the air like the words will fall into his palm if he tries hard enough. He stumbles for a few moments until he looks you in the eye again, a bit pained when he tells you, “Everything’s fine, baby.” The arm that was hooked over your shoulder is now curled around your waist, and his fingers, rough and scarred, trace meaningless shapes into your back, teasing beneath the hem of your top. “You don’t have to worry ‘bout it, alright?”

You’re unconvinced. You shuffle your hips around to straddle his, placing your hands on his shoulders with your thumbs carefully massaging the sides of his neck. Like clockwork, his hands take purchase of your waist, and he brings one to slide down over the curve of your ass before smoothing circles into your thigh. He always seems to speak to you in this way—maybe about as much as he tells you he loves you through his food—the physical connection much easier to manage than trying to crack open the rock-hard shell in his chest.

You lean into him a little more, your back arching ever so slightly. “You know I want you to keep me in the loop. What’s the guy for now?”

He sighs. “It’s just—shit with the stoves ‘n it’s messin everyone up, the kitchen’s basically a fire hazard, ‘n I really need him to answer his damn phone before something…” He shrugs. “…Before something just, I dunno, blows up, I guess.”

“Well, nobody’s even in that kitchen right now, so no explosions just yet.” You eye him for a moment, biting at your lip in contemplation when he doesn’t smile quite like he usually does at your drier jokes. “Is there something else bothering you?”

His brows furrow. “No, no—why, why’re you askin’ it like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like, like…” He shakes his head as if it pains him to consider it. “Like there’s somethin’ wrong with me, or, or somethin’ I’m hidin’—”

“I didn’t mean it like that, Carm, c’mon.” Your voice goes softer, hands a little gentler as you cradle his jaw in your palms. “I just want you to let me in.”

He takes a deep breath through his nose. “You’re always sayin’ stuff like that,” he mumbles, and you can feel the vibration of his voice through your hands through to your heart.

“Because I mean it.” The AC whirrs nearby, almost muffling your words. “I want you to tell me about the things that bother you. I would never judge you.”

You’re so tender with Carmen, he thinks he could melt into a puddle on the floor, left to seep into the floorboards and through the ceiling of his downstairs neighbor. And he feels the words bubbling to the surface, the emotion pooling, red-hot behind his eyes, an answer burning at the back of his throat and clawing through his chest rough enough that the kisses you scatter from his cheek, to his jaw, to his neck do little to aid his wounds. But when he answers you, it’s tame. “I do tell you about things.”

“You do, but…” You wrap your arms around his neck and nuzzle into the space between it and his shoulder. “I’m just thinking about this game I used to play when I was a kid, sardines.”

His head tilts back against the back of the couch, and your breath dances along his skin while his hands smooth along the bumps of your spine. “Sardines?”

“Mhm,” you hum, “It’s kinda like…hide and go seek, but reversed. One of us would hide, and when someone found us, they’d squeeze into that spot too. And I remember being terrible at it, because we’d be making faces at one another in our little hiding spot, and I could never stop giggling, and I’d just expose everyone too soon.”

He chuckles quietly to himself. “I can picture that, you laughin’ while shoved in a closet.” His fingertips trace your shoulder blades.

“Pretty much how it went. Always too loud.”

“But I like hearing you laugh. I—I always feel better…gettin’ to see you all happy.” He’s thinking he got a little too caught up in the moment, and before you can say anything back, he asks, “What were you thinkin’ about the game, then?”

“It’s a little stupid to say it out loud,” you start.

“‘S not stupid, promise.”

You pause, hesitant. “…Okay.” One quick kiss to his neck before you continue, eyes closed to sink into him, “I just like to think that, eventually, you’ll let me in like…like it’s a game of sardines, or something. That I’ll just…squeeze in right beside you, and—and you’ll let me be there for you without pushing me away.”

He hums, low and drawn out to give you a beat to breathe.

“Sometimes I just want you to tell me what it is that’s bothering you, just to…make it easier on you a little bit, knowing someone’s in your corner. Just to be there.” Your fingers twirl into his messy curls and scratch at the nape of his neck the way he likes, and his silence drags on long enough to make you anxious.

But Carmen, too, is anxious. His chest is tight, his hands fidgety, and he’s sure—he knows, he feels it in his gut—that he needs to say something, anything. But he can’t find the words. They swirl in the back of his mind, and he can taste them crawling to the tip of his tongue, but they never become clear. They lurk where he can’t see them, and he keeps his thoughts on lockdown for you, because he’s been convinced along the way somehow in his decades of living that it’s easier, for him, if he keeps the softer parts stowed away, never to be seen again. He’s starting to think you’re trouble, that you make him softer where he grew to be tough. So it’s muffled and covered by his palms smoothing up your waist when he asks, “Sit up for me a bit, baby?”

And you listen, of course, because really you’re thankful he didn’t kick you out by now. Your vision is blurry from tears pooling in your eyes, but his hands—so, so gentle, the touch barely there like he thinks you could break—cup your jaw and urge you a little closer, his thumbs stroking your cheeks and wiping away stray tears. The two of you gravitate closer until your noses brush by one another and you exchange breath, until he leans into you and slots his lips against yours. He’s hesitant and careful, he doesn’t know if it’s quite the right thing to do or if it’s says what he needs it to, but when you prop your hands against his chest and kiss him back he knows part of you needs it like he does.

Both of you need it—that silent exchange, emotions spilled between sweet kisses and kind hands. So you stay that way, with Carmen’s hands holding you close to keep you from running away, and yours answer back I’m here, until he pulls away, eyes closed, to rest his forehead against yours.

He keeps himself blind when he whispers, “I know…” You can tell he’s mulling over his thought, so you wait for him to add, “I—I know, that you’re in my corner. An’ I want you there, alright?”

You try to soak in the feeling, so close and seemingly getting closer, a little breathless from his kisses as much as his words. “Alright.”

“I just—I just get so, so stuck in my head that I…” He swallows. “I can’t tell half the time if there’s anything even worth sayin’, I’m just spaced out ‘n…going fuckin’ crazy.” His brows furrow against yours. “I’m not used to stuff like this.”

“I know.”

His hands rest along the curve of your face a little firmer when he suggests, “But I can try—to, to, uh, tell you things, to let you in, or, or however you put it—I—” A deep breath. “I’m so fuckin’ bad at this, I’ve never done this, but—but I’ll try, for you, alright? You tell me, an’ I’ll try for you.”

You nod against him.

“Fuck,” he hisses, “I just—it’s just—I like this, y’know? Being with you, I like what we have, I—I like doing this, and—I wanna…I wanna make you happy. The same way you do for me…” He goes quiet and shakes his head a little, anticipating his next words. “I don’t wanna fuck it up.”

You can’t fight the smile that pulls at your lips, even if it is bittersweet. “You aren’t gonna fuck it up, okay? Being with you already makes me happy. I know you’re trying.”

“But trying isn’t…it’s not always enough, an’ I know in some ways—in a lotta ways, probably, I’m not…I—I’m not the best at saying things, an’—shit, am I—am I saying too much—?”

“No, Carm, no. I want you to keep talking.” You take his lips in another gentle kiss, your stomach whirring warm and content.

“I don’t really know what to say, or—”

“It’s okay,” you coo. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but…if there was something else bothering you earlier…you can tell me.” You pull back a little to really look at him, running your fingers through his curls and making him gently close his eyes. “And I’ll just say okay, and then we can move on. I won’t say anything unless you want me to.”

He hums with his eyes still closed, his mouth in a smirk. “Mm, like sardines.” It’s a little snarky when he says it, but when his thumbs brush beneath your top, you know he’s just thinking over his options.

“Yes, like sardines.” You’re a little embarrassed, but also a little thankful that he followed the bit.

He waits for a few moments, just breathing, letting you smooth your hands through his hair and over his shoulders and down his chest. It’s calming, he realizes—simply existing in the same space, careful touches and brief kisses. He runs his palms from the back of your waistband to the plane between your shoulder blades and presses gently, urging you to lean against him once again. When your head rests against his chest, he takes in a deep breath through the nose and out the mouth. He watches the ceiling.

“There’s…” Another pause. “It’s not just the stove that’s botherin’ me.”

You don’t answer him, not even a hum to acknowledge he’s said anything, and he realizes that you were serious about the whole ‘not saying anything’ bit.

“I…fuck, I don’t even know how to say any ‘f this. I think…I think I’m just freakin’ out about…about everything. The restaurant…you…” There’s a long, heavy pause, a shaky breath. “An’—an’ that’s it, really, besides family I guess—which is really fuckin’ pathetic when I say it out loud.” A sniffle. “Real pathetic. But all I’ve had is fuckin’…fuckin’ cooking, an’ working, an’ dealin’ with my family ‘n fuckin’ Richie all my life—” His chest gets, tight, a hand leaves your back to run over his mouth. “God, an’ I am so fucked up,” he laughs.

You were already crying before, and the tears keep coming, streaming from your eyes to your cheeks and staining Carmen’s shirt. You’re not sure whether he even realizes.

“I’m fucked up, and you’re just—you’re so perfect, compared t’me, ‘cause you’re all smart, an’ you always know the right thing to say ‘n how to say it, an’ you’re just in a completely different world sometimes, an’ I want in—I wanna be able to do things for you, all of it, but—” He needs to catch his breath. He needs water. He needs sleep. His throat is sore and scratchy, he feels his pulse pounding in his forehead. “I’m just…scared…that—that I could fuck you up, too.”

His chest expands beneath you, and you’re shaking, biting at your lips to stifle sobs. Part of you wants to sit up and hold him close, tell him that he’s the perfect one and you’re anything but, that all he’s ever been is made for you, that maybe he is fucked up, but you don’t care because you love him all the same—you love him.

Carmen isn’t used to this reaction. He’s used to explosions, yelling, screaming, pointing fingers with hot tears, saying what he shouldn’t, saying what hurts, guilt smacking him across the face for years to come. He’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. He feels your trembling and holds you that much gentler.

“Baby,” he starts, “Hey, lemme see you, you’re shaking—” He tries to peel you from his torso, prodding at your sides until you wipe at your eyes and sit yourself up. His hands reach to hold your wet face. “What—what’s wrong?”

You push his arms away. “Sardines, Carm.” You try to stay true to your word—that you’d take what he says, and only store it away—but you’d be lying if you said you’re not struggling to keep more tears at bay.

“I want you to talk to me. You said you’d talk if I wanted you to, I—I need you to talk to me, c’mon, please—”

“This is so wrong—I’m the one who should be comforting you—”

“Hey, hey hey hey—” He smooths a hand over your hair and presses kisses to the tear stains on your cheeks. “That doesn’t matter to me. That doesn’t matter to me, alright?” He holds you steady, waits for you to meet his eyes, and when you look at him, it’s like he can see right through you. His thumbs brush away your tears, and your breathing settles.

You sigh, your hands moving from his chest to his shoulders. “We’re such a mess.”

Carmen shakes his head, mind full of you as his eyes trail the contours of your face, the plush of your lips when your teeth bite at them. “Wouldn’t wanna be with anyone else.” His hands touch your waist again and ease you into him, buzzing with your soft curves in his grasp. It’s more than therapeutic, he thinks. Life-sustaining might be more accurate.

You nod, and your fingertips graze along his cheekbones before you plant a soft, yearning kiss to his mouth.

He kisses you again because he can’t help himself, and he might be too scared to look you in the eye when he says it, but eyes closed or not, he means it. “You’re so good to me.” His arms wrap around you again, addicted to feeling your weight beneath his skin, and he presses his lips to your jaw. “So fuckin’ good to me,” he repeats, lower than a whisper like it slipped by without thinking.

You card your hands through his hair, messily beautiful, and answer, “You deserve someone good,” just as quiet as he is.

He swears his heart stops, and his lips trail from your jaw down to your neck. “You’re too good to me,” he says again, with a bit more honesty in the change. He knows you, so he already knows what you’re going to say, and that any other time he’d deny it.

You hum, a warm smile curling the corners of your mouth as you pull him closer to your chest, grazing your lips by his hairline for a gentle kiss. “No such thing.”

And for the first time, with his arms wrapped tight around your waist with a gentleness reserved only for you, and with your body slotted against his, he really starts to believe it.

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reflectionsofacreator · 8 months ago

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“You know, it’s generally not the best idea to sneak up on a vigilante. Let alone someone like me,” Red Hood drawled as he rest his hand on his gun holster.

The floating teenager chuckled at him, and it sounded tired. “Yeah, I’m not known for ‘em, sorry.”

He was about the same age as the girl with the undercut, maybe around seventeen to nineteen, and the dark bags on his pale cheeks were highlighted by the glowing toxic green eyes that stared straight at him. A fringe of white hair floated around his head like it was moving through water, just barely hiding how his ears swept up into a point and when he grinned at Jason, all his teeth were pointed. He was wearing a black body suit that Nightwing would be jealous of, with white accents that highlighted his lean, masculine frame.

“You with them?” Hood asked, and jerked his chin in the direction of the van.

“My sisters, yeah,” the guy said with a shrug. The motion seemed a bit wrong somehow, but Jason couldn’t figure out why. “Sorry, I know I should have better manners than this, but things’ve been… uh. Bad. I meant to bring you a gift and ask if they -- if we could stay here, but uhm…”

“A gift.” Red Hood stated, and didn’t move save to cock his head curiously to the side.

Green Eyes rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly and lifted up his other hand in a half shrug. “Sorry, I don’t really have much to offer, and I’m so sorry about messing up the vibes of your haunt. You probably felt us for hours, huh.”

He didn’t react to that, save to let his considering noise drag through his vocoder and render it a staticky, low pitched hum. It unnerved a lot of people, but surprisingly the teen only winced and didn’t look scared.

“Yeahhhh I was kind of afraid of that,” he huffed. “Okay. My name’s Phantom. I promise I’m not trying to mess with your haunt, I’m just… trying to keep an eye on my sisters after everything that happened. Keep em safe, you know? I swear they won’t get into trouble, we just need a place to live.”

“What about you? You going to get into trouble?” Hood asked and shifted his stance to be about ten percent less threatening. It worked, because Phantom brightened, literally his eyes flared, and he looked a bit more at ease.

“Me? Naw, I’m just going to haunt my sisters and that’s it. Won’t get into trouble, I promise.”

“The fuck you mean, haunt your sisters? You some type of ghost or something?” Hood huffed.

Phantom winced.

“The fuck.”

-dry wine rebirth, ch 1

Summary

Learning that the new family of maybe-metas had their dead brother for a ghostly protector was not on Red Hood's bingo sheet, and Jason getting roped into a date with one of the sisters was even less on that damn thing. But something's off with the Nightingales, they're running from something, hiding, and it was the same thing that killed their brother, Jason's sure of it - and Phantom's ominous warning that he might be next is getting under his skin.

Hm. Hm. Yeah no, I don't have a defense for this. I got sucked into this niche little crossover. I dunno how much brainspace this is gonna eat, but have what I've gotten so far.

#dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #danny fenton #jason todd #creator writes #fic: dry wine rebirth #dead on main

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ki-yomii · 8 months ago

Text

baby, don't go | myg

➥pairing | ex!min yoongi x f!reader, mentioned f!reader x omc ➥word count | 5.1k ➥warning(s) | 🔞 smut; dirty talk, pet names, praise kink, squirting, hand job, finger fucking, porn w/ plot, angst w/ a happy ending, alcohol, exes to lovers, implied cheating (omc is a fuckboy), implied getting back together (reader & yoongi still low key love each other), idol!yoongi ➥summary | "hii can I request for an exes to lovers trope with yoongi 😭💖 lovee your ficss" you find out your boyfriend is cheating on you. thankfully your ex Yoongi is more than happy to distract you. ➥notes | hope you enjoy this anon 😘💚 omc & ofc are named after characters from one of my favourite k-dramas (personal taste iykyk)

💚 masterlist | inbox | AO3 💚

Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry.

Standing beside you, your friend Kae-In takes a swig of whatever's in her cup - a sickly sweet concoction of fruity soju and Chilsung, most likely - and coolly surveys the backyard.

Small groups of people dot the manicured lawn, others lounging by the fire as they catch up with one another. It's been far too long since everyone's schedules aligned like this.

Years in fact, and there are several who came in from out of town.

Ordinarily you'd be over the moon, but as it were you can barely drum up enough false excitement for your best friend. Let alone others you haven't seen in forever.

Cocking her hip, Kae-In puckers her mouth. "The alcohol isn't even that good." She sighs, pretty face scrunching in disappointment. "Some party this is turning out to be."

Your hard cider, still more than half-full, hides an awkward, ill-fitting smile.

Having nursed your own drink for the last hour, whatever might've been enjoyable about it is long gone. Any refreshing coolness and bright, punchy taste replaced by amber liquid far past room temperature in your clammy palm.

In fact, the fizzy warmth and tart aftertaste of moldering apples turns your stomach with every half-hearted sip.

"At least there's cute guys here - some of them have really grown up."

Her breath ruffles the fringe of her bangs when she huffs, casting an eye to the glass bottle strangled in your grip.

"Are you sure you don't want something a little stronger?"

You shrug. "Yeah, I'm fine - gotta be the DD just in case, y'know?"

"Girl, you're ALWAYS the DD. C'mon, you gotta live a little sometimes."

The nonchalant scolding stings, even if it's meant almost entirely in jest but it's not Kae-In's fault. She doesn't know. No one does. You couldn't muster up the courage to tell her the truth.

Not yet.

It's still too fresh. The wound too raw to go poking around with clumsy fingers.

"Don't be like that," you say with a faltering smile. "I'm having fun."

LIAR.

In actuality, you're a few frayed threads away from snapping. Stuck clinging to the edge of sanity by the fingernails as you battle back tides of crippling grief and blinding rage.

Have been since the first few messages came rolling in; questions with videos attached. There's a part of you grateful they reached out, while another altogether wishes you hadn't seen.

At least not until morning.

Would one more night spent in ignorant bliss have been too much to ask for?

Now you're riding a corkscrew of emotion, one that roils and chafes as ceaseless images parade past your eyelids with every blink. Each one as crisp and clear as the first time you pressed play.

The swirling lights, the heady thrum of bodies. A darkened corner. Your boyfriend of three years who said he couldn't make it. His hand sneaking beneath the hem of a cheap, glittery skirt. The dip of his head as he tucks into the curve of a neck, mouth open and smiling against bare skin.

You shudder, stomach rebelling. When you swallow, it's like trying to down buckets of sand.

Kae-In, none the wiser, flicks her hair over her shoulder. "Well, that makes one of us. I guess." Shrugging, she turns to you and asks with a furrowed brow, "Are you sure you're okay? You seem... a little off."

Panic grabs you by the throat.

This was supposed to be a night full of fun and laughter. You're not supposed to be suffocating in a crowded backyard. On the brink of tears and trying to act like your life hasn't imploded.

Alone - by your own doing, which is even worse - to deal with the crushing weight of an inevitable breakup. The painful extrication of two lives entwined.

How a relationship three years in the making can be shattered in a minute and forty-five seconds is mind boggling. You had it all, and now...

You thought you were going to marry him.

The whiplash of it all almost makes you laugh but only so you don't break down in great, heaving sobs. A heartbreak you're not sure you'll ever recover from. Not for the loss of him but rather the decimation of your trust.

"I'm okay, promise! No need to worry."

The lie weighs heavy on your tongue. Tastes of ash as the words you really want to say hover in the back of your throat, a breath away. Only they can't make it past your lips, stuck to your teeth like hard candy.

"It's just been one of those days."

Your shoulders shoot towards your ears when she hums in response. Fingernails picking at the corner of the sweating cider label so you don't have to meet Kae-In's piercing gaze. You know she can see right through you, and you hate it.

What started as a fun night of planned mayhem turned into desperate distractions though this party has done very little in terms of brightening your mood.

Instead, watching everyone you know have a good time while you stand on the side lines, a stranger in a sea of people, feels more akin to rubbing salt in an open wound.

Miserable but acting like you’re not; waves of bitter loneliness threatening to pull you under because you don’t want to ruin the night.

“Is this because Chang-ryul couldn’t make it?” Kae-In pats your back sympathetically. “What bullshit excuse did he give you this time? I swear, he always does this. Just wait. I’m gonna hit him next time I see him.”

Oh, you don’t even know, you think. You’ll definitely want to do more than hit him.

Your heart throbs at the sound of his name, and isn’t that funny? Such a simple thing - nothing but syllables and letters strung together - and yet it has the power to unmake you completely.

Your tongue swells as you struggle to swallow. Words burn like bile as you force out a laugh; brittle, scraped up from the depths of your chest

“I’d pay to see that,” you croak. Your knuckles ache from how tightly you’re gripping the bottle. “But - no. C-Chang-ryul has nothing to do with it.”

You hate that you stutter over his name.

And perhaps that’s why you don’t want to tell Kae-In just yet.

She’s always hated him.

Always said he was no good. Just another fuckboy looking for beds to warm and hearts to break. And she’s right.

God, why does she have to be right?

You know she’d never hold it over you, but the thought of admitting it - out loud - makes you want to vomit all over your shoes. You need time to stitch your edges back together. Too raw and ragged.

You only just found out.

Your pride can’t handle any more hits right now.

She thumbs her nose with an inelegant snort. “Whatever you say. I could take him in a fight. That boy ain’t shit.”

Your laugh startles you - the first genuine one of the evening - and you shake your head fondly. A soft smile tugs at your lips.

“Oh, no doubt. But really, I’ve just been in a weird mood.”

The twist of her lips shows she doesn’t believe a word you’re saying, but she’s kind enough not to press. Instead, she spends the next while distracting you with tales of her various escapades of the week.

And it helps for a time, truly.

But then you feel a buzz against your thigh, a ding echoing up from your pocket. Your stomach turns to lead, drops to your feet. Without looking at the screen, you pull the cell out of your pocket with shaky hands and quickly flick the ringer off.

Meanwhile, Kae-In watches silently with sharp eyes, and an even sharper frown though she declines to comment on your behavior.

“Anyway,” she continues once she has your attention, “as I was saying, did you see little Ji-Seok? Dude shot up like a tree! Last time I saw him he was as big as a bean sprout.”

You hum, worlds away.

“You could at least act like you’re paying attention,” she sucks her teeth before a smirk starts to slowly tug at her lips, “How about we talk about something - or someone - I know you’ll be interested in?”

Guilt sparks but slowly gives way to dread. You know that expression. Have gotten into trouble more times than you can count because of it.

Heart tattooing a rhythm against your rib cage, you sputter, “Oh no. No! Do not look at me like that.”

“C’mo-on!” she wheedles. “You’re absolutely right. We should be talking about,” she points at someone across the yard with her cup, “Yoongi instead.”

Currently leaning back against a stone wall making up part of the fence, Yoongi nurses a beer. Sticking out like a sore thumb now that he’s making it big as an idol, no longer as mundane as the rest of them.

Hushed whispers follow his every move, his bleached hair and flashy outfit commanding all sorts of covert attention.

The sharp cut of his shirt flatters his lean frame, the black leather jacket over top emphasizing the width of his shoulders. Dark jeans cling to his legs, as tight as a second skin, and causing your attention to stray where it shouldn’t.

And his eyes - oh, how you ever forgot is beyond you.

Dark, hooded, deep, and hungry; intense as they drag over the planes of your face like the caress of his fingers.

Shit.

You shove Kae-In’s hand down with a loud smack before she makes an even bigger fool out of you in front of another ex.

“What the hell are you doing?” You hiss. “That’s so rude!”

Not to mention embarrassing as fuck.

“Y’know,” she pauses to wiggle her brows and shoot you an impish grin, “I bet Yoongi would be more than happy to remind you of how rude he can be.”

You smother a groan in your hands, heartache temporarily forgotten. “I can’t believe you. Seriously. We’re no longer friends.”

“Bitch, you love me. And anyway, you know what I can’t believe?” She asks. “You!”

She gestures towards him again amid your flailing attempts to stop her. “Look at him. Like goddamn, you had it good.”

You take a sip of cider to give your hands something to do, nearly blanching at the warm liquid. Refusing to respond or look up as the topic of conversation watches like a hawk, gaze heavy.

How can he still make you weak-kneed after all this time?

He wasn’t even touching you and you still feel his presence down to your toes, setting your teeth on edge.

You hear your own heartbeat, your breathing shaky, sparks of awareness dancing along your spine. Heat creeps into the apples of your cheeks.

“Knock it off, I’m serious.”

“No, when are you going to get that Chang-ryul isn’t good for you?”

You swallow roughly, all the moisture leaving your mouth.

“Yoongi was the best boyfriend you ever had and treated you the way you deserve. And you know he’s never been interested in anyone but you. Hell, he’s barely looked away from you since he got here and the break-up was years ago.”

You shift, perspiration breaking out on your brow. “Can we please stop talking about this?”

“When will you give it up?” She blows a raspberry, shaking her head. “I know you regret how it went down between you guys. Now that he’s here - when you finally have a chance to make it right you just - just - ugh!”

Shooting her a weak half-smile and a shrug, you turn your attention to the small glowing fire pit.

Other’s are gathered around it, relishing in the glow of warmth that wars against the balmy summer breeze cutting through the air. Focusing on the dance and flicker of the flames is a needed moment of peace in entropy.

Though you know it isn’t going to last - not with a motormouth for a friend.

“So-o, what are you waiting for?”

“Sorry?”

She nods towards Yoongi subtly.

He’s finally busy with his own conversation, his gummy smile a quick flash of brightness. “When are you going to stick it to Chang-ryul and hop on that dick?”

“Oh my god!”

Kae-In shrugs. “What.”

“Don’t 'what' me. Seriously?”

A bony elbow digs between your ribs. You wheeze.

“C’mon,” she says, “You already know it’s good with him, and you deserve someone who’s there for you 110%. Someone who will treat you right. You know I worry about you.”

A wave of emotions threatens to completely drown you in that moment, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. Her tender concern - her care - feels altogether too much and not enough.

As overwhelming as a tsunami; your heart a raw, exposed nerve.

All you’ve ever wanted was to be loved.

To feel like someone’s first and only choice.

You used to think Chang-ryul was someone who could provide that. What a fool you’ve been. Men like him don’t fall in love, they only pretend to.

They sneak inside your heart and take what they want from your bed. To him, you’re nothing but a fun little stop; a footnote, read and forgotten.

Your heart squeezes, shuddering from a pain your palm can’t soothe away.

It’s a terrible idea.

But maybe…

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to lick your wounds with someone you know cares about you. Has always cared about you, and probably always will.

Clearing your throat, you consider his profile from beneath your lashes.

Yoongi's always made you feel wanted. Looked after you as though you were something rare and precious.

It’s been a long time since you’ve felt that.

Somehow, some way, he senses you looking because he pauses mid-sentence.

Turns to meet you head-on, tracing your face with what can only be called greed. Stopping short when they catch on the lip trapped between your teeth.

Something akin to hunger cuts across his face.

His brows dip low, a palpable heat flooding the inky depths of his eyes. Shadows deepen the lines of his face, the shifting firelight highlighting the flex of a jawline for days, burning halo gold in his hair.

It’s a look you’re intimately familiar with.

Usually preceding a hand-shaking, mind-numbing fuck session where his cock gets as deep as it can, rutting hard and fast, bringing you over the edge again and again until you’re left a wrecked mess.

Your heart jumps, gallops headlong into a rapid beat.

You feel the rush of blood in your chest, every breath stuttered, stomach lurching. Shaking. Jittery. Tongue tied in a thousand knots and you haven’t even said a word.

It was much easier to pretend you weren’t so magnetically drawn to Yoongi when you weren’t riding the single’s train. When he was away in Seoul chasing after his dreams.

Now that he’s got downtime and your relationship has hit a brick wall? His mere presence sears you to the bone. Drags you in like a black hole.

And that?

So not good.

Swallowing roughly, you tear your attention away. You’d forgotten how intense and blindly bright he can be.

There’s a throb developing in your temple, sharp little darts of pain lancing through your skull. An impending headache if you don’t get some air that doesn’t taste like wood-smoke and cheap alcohol.

“I think I’m gonna head in for a bit. Need to get away.”

You shake your head and toss your bottle into the bin on the way inside, Kae-In shouting her acknowledgement with a thumbs up. Makes you promise to contact her in case of any change in plans.

Nearly everyone’s outside so it should be less crowded, more quiet. Most importantly, away from Yoongi and that penetrating stare which makes you more flustered than you care to admit.

Alas, the kitchen isn’t empty not for long.

You’re lounging against the counter, elbows bent, head rolled back and stinging eyes closed when the back door creaks open. Biting off a groan, you swivel your head to the side.

When you see it’s Yoongi who follows you in, you almost slip and brain yourself on the tile. Mouth dry, palms sweaty, heart beating out of control; scrambling into a more flattering posture while patting down your hair.

He chuckles, his nose scrunched and smile coy.

Seeing him happy always makes you tender, weak.

It seems that hasn’t changed a bit.

No amount of pictures or videos do it justice. Granted, Yoongi looks good any time, any day. But seeing his whole face light up like that in person? Utterly priceless.

It’s a struggle to breathe properly around the lump forming in your throat.

Of course, it has to be him.

Wiping your palms off on your thighs, you greet him with an awkward wave, “Uhhh, hey - hey there, Yoongi.”

Oh my god. Abort mission, I repeat, abort mission.

“Y’know what,” you say, “I was just about to head back outside…”

As you pass by, he catches your arm.

Long fingers curl around your wrist, callouses dragging across your pulse. Your gut clenches, an unexpected bloom of warmth shooting through your core at the sight of his broad palm holding you captive.

His grip is firm but loose enough that you could pull away.

All it serves to do is remind you of nights spent beneath his body, the slide of sweat-slick skin, the taste of him heavy on your tongue, pussy filled to the brim with cock. His rough voice music to your ears, prideful as he gloats about how well you’re taking him.

"Leaving so soon?” He asks silkily.

A hard tug sends you slamming into the wall of his chest.

Air rushes from your lungs, your hands trapped against his collarbones. Firm muscles contract beneath your palms, his body shoving into your touch.

Twisting your fingers in the soft cotton of his shirt, you look at him from beneath your lashes. Your voice whisper soft when you say, “Yoongi…”

His dark eyes, the colour of a rich espresso, track the path of your tongue as you wet your lips. Fingers drag over the soft line of your neck, tracing your fluttering pulse.

Touch feather light as it stops by the corner of your mouth, pressing down on the swell of your lip.

“I haven’t said hello yet.”

Eyes wide, all you do is watch and wait with baited breath. Stunned into silence at his proximity. It’s been so long since you’ve been this close, the smell of his expensive cologne nostalgic.

Your body recognizes his, responding all the same. The connection between you electric, overwhelmingly so.

His head bows, bleached strands brushing your forehead. The tip of his nose rubs yours. You get lost in counting his eyelashes, tracing the bridge of his nose to the carved slope of his cheeks.

Surrounded by him, the urge to resist what’s happening is nearly non-existent. Though you wish it wasn’t so easy to be caught by him.

“One of the guys said something interesting,” he says, his breath ghosting across your face; mint and beer. “It's about you actually.”

He flashes the smile that sends your heart soaring, your stomach flipping.

The slightest peek of a metal chain resting in the crook of his neck, surrounded by a very tempting patch of skin you want to taste, has you a little dumbfounded, absentminded.

“Oh?”

You really hope you don’t sound as frazzled as you feel but the haughty superiority of his slow appraisal of your body, the cocksure smirk on his lips states otherwise.

You really wish you could knock him down a peg but confidence looks amazing on him.

Always has.

“They said you have a boyfriend now. Is that true?”

You manage the slightest shake of your head in the negative - no, not anymore - your heart thundering in your ears.

Your breath catches in anticipation just before Yoongi closes the remaining inches between you with a hum of approval.

His head tilts to the side as he slots your mouths together in a kiss that’s got your toes curling. A filthy wet slide of lips, his the slightest bit chapped, send you under, liquid warmth filling your belly.

You inhale sharply, a moan vibrating against his lips.

Melting into the cage of his arms as his hands clamp down on your hips possessively, tugging you closer. Pressed stem to stern like this there’s no hiding the evidence of his desire.

He’s already half-hard in his jeans, his erection pressing against the zipper.

His eyes are hooded when he pulls away.

“Wanna take this somewhere a little more private, baby?” Yoongi asks, running his nose up the length of your neck and inhaling.

How is this my life, you think, dazed.

His hips grind forward against you so there’s no mistaking what you’re dealing with. “It’ll be just like old times.”

After an awkward fumble and an elbow to the side, you settle on the downstairs bathroom. He follows, quickly pinning you to the door while struggling to toss his leather jacket over the sink.

With a flick of the lock, you’re finally alone without any possible interruption. The door muffles most of the ruckus outside, leaving you hyper aware of every hurried breath, every low-throated murmur.

For a long while it’s nothing but a mess of lips, his body molding to yours. Easy to fall back into the old rhythms of your relationship as though you never left it.

He holds you down.

His fingers in your hair, on your jaw. His tongue gliding over your lip, sucking it into his mouth and letting it slide back out through his teeth.

You meet him kiss for kiss, your hands finding their way into his back pockets, tugging, groping, loving how he bucks up into the cradle of your hips in response.

A sweet ache settles low and deep.

“Yoongi,” you sigh. “Fuck, I forgot how much you like to tease.”

His thumb circles your nipple through your shirt, teasing it into a sensitive, stiff peak that shows through the thin fabric.

The caresses send soft pulses straight to your clit, the intensity getting stronger and stronger the rougher he is.

Before long, you’re aware of how achingly empty you are.

Yoongi nips the corner of your jaw.

“Never forgot how fun teasing you is,” he murmurs into the silk of your skin. “How wet you get for me.”

“Shit, you can’t just say something like that.”

“Can’t I?” His laugh, genuine and vibrant, sounds through his chest and into yours. “You can bitch all you want, but I know you love it.”

A smile, all teeth.

“Isn’t that right, baby?”

You glare at him weakly through half lidded eyes.

Two can play that game.

“Fuck!” Yoongi bites out, those impossibly dark eyes sliding shut when you reach down to palm him through his jeans.

His breath whooshes from him in a loud exhale, his jaw working back and forth. “That’s cheating.”

You smirk, feeling him throb in your hand.

”What were you saying, Yoongs?” Humming, you rub your chest against his, using a fingertip to trace the outline of his shaft. “I didn’t quite catch that.”

Spearing you with a weighted look, Yoongi shoves you back into the door harder than before, the wood creaking under the pressure. Fist resting on the frame next to your head, his body cages you in.

Every shuddered inhale has the planes of his firm chest pressing into yours with the expansion of his lungs. His hips buck up into the softness of your palm with a grunt.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, pretty girl,” he cautions.

Competitiveness is a gift and a curse.

Not one to be outdone, you brush away any lingering reservations - which being honest, there weren’t many left. His relieved groan when you tug out his cock reverberates through you.

Shit, that’s so unfair.

Yoongi already sounds wrecked yet you’ve barely touched him. How the fuck are you going to get through this without completely combusting when he actually cums?

Thinking that maybe focusing on what you’re doing will help, you look down.

Big mistake.

Dark designer jeans circle his thighs, low enough for his cock to spring free.

Flushed, curved towards his belly, the head swollen and sticky with pre-cum. The shaft a decent handful that pulses when your palm skims the side.

Feminine appreciation at the sight has velvet heat pooling between your thighs, pussy clenching at the thought of him inside you.

Sex with him was always stupidly good.

All those veiled lyrics about his skill in the bedroom far too accurate for comfort.

Since you broke up, you haven’t been with anyone that comes close to his ability in getting you off.

He’s ruined you.

His face burrows into the crook of your neck with a low groan. His breath puffs across your skin, shivers racing down your spine.

Low voice full of grit, he says, “Shit, baby, that feels…”

Hot palms anchor themselves to your hips.

“Wait a sec,” he says, body twitching with aborted thrusts, strong fingers kneading. “Wanna do you too.”

Heart jumping, you let go of him long enough to yank your shirt over your head and kick off your pants before returning your hand to his cock.

In the meantime, he rucks his shirt up under his armpits. You can’t help but make a noise in the back of your throat as the length of his torso is exposed.

All that soft, smooth skin stretching over his stomach as he flexes. You have to fight down the urge to run your tongue along the outline of his hip.

Mouth slack, Yoongi pushes up the cups of your bra. Watches laser-focused on the bounce of your tits as they drop free, subtly swaying with every jerk of your wrist.

His hips fuck up into the circle of your hand while one of his own inches down to brush the crease of your thigh. Your hips tilt towards his touch, desperate for friction.

“Oh god.” He moans, calloused fingers dipping between your folds. “You’re so wet for me.”

You wiggle, whining against his lips as you meet in a messy kiss. His touch is light, gentle, barely there as he traces the length of your slit.

You’re trembling, skin too tight, body feverish. “Stop teasing, I want you inside me.”

Those seem to be the magic words because Yoongi gives a rumble of approval, using his thumb to spread slick over your swollen clit in tight circles.

Heat coils in your belly, electricity racing down your spine. Your thighs splay as wide as they can, making room for his hand.

His knuckles brush your skin.

Dipping down to your entrance, Yoongi works on spreading you open with shallow thrusts until you take three fingers comfortably.

Your needy sighs and soft moans bounce off the walls.

His low murmurs right in your ear as the pads stroke your walls, his wrist flexing. He’s hitting all the right spots, still remembering how to get you off years after the fact.

You’re quickly turning weak-kneed and wet eyed.

“Fuck, Yoongs, right there,” you keen, baring down on the digits nudging your g-spot, your grip tightening around his shaft.

You grind your palm over the swollen tip, gathering beads of pre-cum.

He hisses, thrusts off beat.

Fingers nudge up suddenly, pressing deep and holding in retaliation. White lightening crackles behind your eyelids, thighs twitching, mouth dropping open.

“Yeah, just like that, pretty girl.”

Your world narrows down to every filthy slide of his cock in your hand, every gush of slick as he stuffs fingers into you over and over again until you’re a writhing mess against the door.

Your nerve endings are alive with pleasure, the stimulation too much and not enough.

“Please, don’t stop.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he says, doubling his efforts, wrist working faster.

Dapples of sweat litter his brow, his eyes staring into yours, glazed over and lusting.

Fuck, he’s handsome like this.

It’s a little embarrassing how bad he’s got you but between the blissed-out expression he’s wearing, the weight of him in your hand, and how full you are, you know this orgasm is going to be quick, messy.

The pace of his hips pick up, his breath hitching in his throat, length twitching and thickening in your grip.

He’s getting close, his touch rougher, more force behind the snapping thrusts of his hips, teeth nipping at the side of your neck.

“Come on, baby,” you say, breathless, twisting your hand on the upstroke. He smothers a grunt in your shoulder. “Give it to me.”

It doesn’t take much more to bring him to the edge.

A particular spread of his fingers has you jolting, a sudden, intense spike of pleasure shooting right to your clit.

In turn, you unintentionally massage his cock, knuckles bumping the underside of the swollen head.

He’s a goner.

Cumming with a low, wounded whine and a shuttered thrust, Yoongi smacks the door with his free hand. Thick spurts of jizz make an absolute mess of his stomach and your knuckles.

Sagging forward like a doll with cut strings, all his dead weight bears down on you.

He pants, small tremors wrack his frame. “Baby,” he murmurs, pressing a wet kiss to your jaw, “I missed you s’much.”

“Missed you too,” you reply, using nice, languid strokes to wring the last of his orgasm out of him. “More than I thought I did.”

In lieu of a response, Yoongi wiggles his fingers inside you, rebuilding the rhythm he lost. He flutters them, curls up against your walls, peppering kisses along the length of your jaw with a hum.

Slick drips down his wrist, the sloppy sound of him finger fucking your cunt blending with a surge of desperate moans.

“Yeah, that’s right,” Yoongi says against your chin. “So fucking hot, wanna see you cum.”

Your back arches, your fingers digging into the width of his shoulders, head smacking the door with a dull thud.

“Can you do that for me?”

Nodding frantically, you fall apart with a broken gasp. Clamping down so hard he can’t move, the cramps softened by the throbbing heat washing over you. Blood rushes in your ears as your pussy gushes around his fingers.

“Good girl,” he praises, tone heated. “You did so well for me.”

By the time your brain comes back online, you’ve forgotten all about Chang-ryul and the constant vibration of your phone where it’s shoved - forgotten - into your pocket.

The only thing that matters is Yoongi with his tender kisses and greedy hands.

#yoongi x reader #yoongi smut #bts smut #min yoongi x reader #yoongi #min yoongi x you #bts min yoongi #yoongi fanfic #yoongi x you #bts x reader #bts fanfic

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dustpages · 1 month ago

Text

Jihyo's way

" Eton is the worst choice for him." my mum's voice echoed in the living room while my dad was looking outside of the large window facing Hyde Park. My parents were arguing about what uni I should have enrolled in, my academic grades made me graduate a year prior to my classmates in high school. I was already 17, my dad wanted me to go to Eton College while my mum was pushing me to Oxford University.

"Come on, love, Eton is a great opportunity for him." He didn't even look at my mother while he said that, and that really piss her off. She had been fighting with my father about this for months, and I was quite tired of that.

"It's a boy-only school. He needs to learn to socialize with other women. Oxford is the best choice. It's in the top 5 worldwide." She declared with an angry voice and a red face. " You know how Nayeon is important to him, she's studying there too."

Nayeon was the daughter of another doctor living in our building. She has been a family friend for years, and we really have a strong bond with her. We would go to eat dinner at her house every 2 weeks, and we've been sharing so many memories together. She was the only friend I had, being quite shy and introverted in high school it was quite hard for me to make friends.

I wasn't that good with girls Nayeon was the only woman I've ever been good with, that's why my mum was pushing for Oxford since she knew how important she was to me.

"You're just trying to make him get closer to her, right? Cause he's too shy. He has never been with a girl." My father snorted, making me blush and avoiding his gaze. That was the truth, but it was not like I wanted that, I just didn't know how to approach girls. I was afraid of being rejected or hurt, so I kept myself away from any romantic relationship.

"Don't be a dick. Oxford is a top tier University, and having Nayeon there will make college life better." my mother retorted, going her way.

" Fine, Oxford it is then." my dad sighed in defeat leaving the living room.

Jihyo, my mum, came in front of me. I was seated on the sofa still a bit annoyed by my father's stubbornness.

" Baby, relax." Jihyo cupped my cheeks kneeling down to meet my eyes.

Her touch was warm and reassuring, I immediately felt better.

"I'm sorry, I didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable. But I want what's best for you and Nayeon. You two have been growing so close over the past few years. She was really happy when she discovered that you've been admitted to Oxford, she is eager to see you there." My mum patted my cheek, I blushed a bit since that was quite embarrassing.

"Nayeon really wanted me to get into Oxford?" I asked a bit surprised.

"Of course, she loves having you around her, you two are like siblings. She is very important to you, right?" She smiled at me, making me think for a few seconds before nodding in agreement.

A few weeks went by and finally, the moment of moving to Oxford came, even if the Uni didn't start before a month.

Jihyo's POV.

" Baby, hurry up or we are gonna be late." I announced to my son who was running a bit late.

The car was already ready to leave, with all his belongings in it.

I prepared myself, earlier in the morning, opting to wear a light blue striped crop top and a brown skirt. I took the opportunity to wear my midriff-baring outfit since I knew my husband will not be with us for the drive to Oxford.

I had my hair cut the day before, shaped in a chin-length bob, with a fringe.

My son ran down the stairs bringing his rucksack on his shoulder. His blue eyes pierced me from the moment he got to the bottom of the staircase. I could see the admiration in them, the way he gazed at my body was making me feel hot all over.

I smiled at him; I hugged him tightly, kissing his cheeks leaving a red lip-shaped mark on his face. I could see he was blushing; probably, he didn't want that since he was really shy.

He opened the door of the car to let me in, he placed the rucksack in the boot before taking the passenger seat.

" Let's go." I whispered to him, giving him a smile.

We left the house, the drive would have taken around 2 hours.

" Baby boy, you are so grown up now." I giggled as I looked at him.

" Mum..." He sighed in embarrassment, his blush was getting even more noticeable. "I am 17 and now I am going to the uni." He announced in a proud tone.

"I know, that's why I'm saying that. You have become a man now, with those blue eyes and that handsome smile. I'm pretty sure you are gonna attract many girls." I complimented him.

He looked away from me blushing even more than before.

The drive was quite pleasant, from time to time I could sense his eyes on my body. I looked at him for a few seconds and that was enough to notice him gazing at my nude legs.

" Are you fancying the view?" I questioned him, smirking, I knew I had a hot figure.

Nature got a big pair tits, and my dedication and passion for fitness has given me a firm and toned body. And that outfit I was wearing today was showing everything I've got.

" M-mum." His voice was shaking a bit, probably he was feeling ashamed.

"Don't be shy, baby. You can tell me." I reassured him.

"No, m-mum, it's just that I never seen you in that outfit. That skirt is quite short..." He trailed off his sentence.

I couldn't hold on to my laugh anymore, I knew the outfit was short but not that much. I could understand him for being surprised but not for feeling embarrassed.

The skirt was brown, matching my brown eyes. It was and high-waisted one, my legs were exposed for all their glory.

" Oh, baby, it's not that short. You just need to get used to this kind of outfit." I told him giving him a smirk, he nodded slightly, still looking at the floor of the car.

After 15 minutes of driving we stopped at a traffic light, we were still in the city, and I knew it would have taken another hour to reach the motorway.

"Son, in Oxford you are gonna live in a flat I own. It's just 15 minutes walk to the Uni." I explained to him as we got into the motorway.

" And with whom am I gonna live?" He questioned me back.

" With Nayeon of course. She has been living in that flat for the past two years." I affirmed. " It has been refurbished quite recently and it has an open space configuration on the first floor."

" Oh, I see." He replied to me, still looking a bit lost.

I knew that he wanted me to stay there too, but that was impossible since my job was in London and I could not have been moved.

I reached for his nearest hand and squeezed it gently, after a second I motioned it to my bare legs and placed it there.

" Since you have been ogling at them for the whole drive." I announced to him with a chuckle.

He looked at me with wide eyes, as his face blushed again becoming red as a tomato.

He gently moved his fingers on my soft skin, making me bite my lip and moan a bit.

" Mum, you are making this too weird." He confessed to me in embarrassment.

" Am I?" I giggled back to him.

I knew I was teasing him, but he was just too cute with his reactions, it was hard to not play around with him.

We arrived in Oxford as soon after, parking the car in the nearest park if possible. I took my son's hand in mine and dragged him towards the flat building.

We finally arrived at the flat I owned in Oxford. I rang the bell waiting for Nayeon to open the door.

The bell was ringing a few times, but no one seemed to answer it, so I decided to use my own key to open the door.

The house was empty a note on the countertop written by Nayeon informed us that she was on a weekly trip to Wales with her cousins.

" I'm not gonna let him stay here all alone." I muffled sitting on the sofa in the middle of the living room.

" Baby go and take your luggage and come back here immediately." I ordered him.

As a good kid he was he obliged and in a matter of minutes he came back with all his belongings, my legs were crossed and stretched on the coffee, my skirt dangerously short unable to cover my tight.

His blue eyes scanned me from the top to the bottom, stopping at my legs, where his gaze stayed for a few minutes, his cheeks tinted in red.

He placed the bags on the floor and came to the sofa sitting on the other side.

" Baby come here." I patted my lap, he looked at me a bit confused. " I need to talk to you, and it's gonna be easier if you sit here." I insisted.

He scooted closer to me lying on his side, his head placed on my tights. I felt his warm breath on my legs, causing goosebumps all over my body.

" Is everything okay?" His voice sounded concerned.

" Yes, it's fine, I just don't want to let you alone here. It's too big for you." I explained.

He looked at me curiously, probably wondering why I was making that such a big deal.

" Nayeon will be back here in a week at max." he replied.

" I'm gonna stay here with you in the meantime, it's my house after all." I stated stroking his raven hair.

His eyes went wide, it was easy to read his thoughts.

"But where am I gonna sleep?" He asked me.

" Don't worry, there are three bedrooms. Two doubles and one single." I reassured.

" And where are you going to sleep?" He questioned.

" Nayeon has her room with a double bed and the single room is currently used as a store room, so I guess you will take the other double and I'll sleep on the sofa." I told him.

" Never in a million years, I would let you sleep here." he affirmed his voice was so sweet I melted a bit. " We are gonna share the double."

I leaned down kissing his forehead, my clothed tits touching his head.

" Really, I'm fine here." I whispered.

He shook his head, his hand grasping my thigh. " No, m-mum." he stuttered.

I looked at him and then nodded, a smirk appeared on my lips. " If that's what you want." I whispered to him.

His hand didn't leave my skin, his fingers were massaging it gently. I closed my eyes enjoying his touch, my body started to react to his actions.

A moan slipped out my lips, my thighs squirmed a bit.

" Mum?" he questioned me, my eyes opened to meet his.

" Hm?" I asked back.

He moved his head on my lap, the friction of our skin made me moan even louder.

" Are you feeling okay?" he asked. " More than okay." was my answer.

He kept looking at me with his splendid eyes, my hand kept combing his raven hair.

" Baby, are you a virgin, aren't you?" I questioned him out of the blue.

His cheeks got tinted, and his eyes scanned the room before looking back at me. " Yes." he nodded. " I've never been with a girl."

" I see." I let the conversation die for the moment, it was almost time to get dinner.

" Baby, let's grab a bite in a restaurant here on the main street." I affirmed.

He went to change his clothes to something more elegant, while I just freshened up not having a spare change of clothes with me.

It was hard for an external person to think we were mother and son, my baby has grown up so much, he was tall and slender, and his body was still a bit skinny, but he had a great height which made his body even more appealing. He was wearing a black trouser and a plain white shirt, his hair was perfectly styled.

I could notice how many people were looking at us while we were walking through the main streets of the town, I kept my hand on his hip making my ownership of him quite clear.

We reached the restaurant, we decided to pick the one with a full window view of the street, it was late afternoon so we didn't need to book the table in advance.

I ordered a bottle of wine for us. I knew his father wouldn't approve of that since he was 17 but I was his mum and I wanted him to have a nice time with me.

He asked me about the University and my past experience there, we chatted for a while sipping wine and eating our food.

My baby was looking at me with adoration like I was a goddess. His gaze on me was making me feel so sexy.

" Mum, can I ask you a question?" he whispered to me as the dinner was almost over.

" Of course, baby." I answered back. " Go ahead."

" You're so pretty and smart, we both know what kind of broken relationship you have with Dad, why have you never seen anyone else?" his question was sincere.

" I have you, baby boy." I replied. " And I love you more than anything. I don't need anyone else." My answer was sincere as well.

His gaze softened, and his hand caressed my arm tenderly. " Mum, I adore you."

I melted a bit with his comment. We kept eating in a warm silence, the walk back was serene, he held me by my waist as we walked, his tall body protecting me.

We didn't talk much once we got back to the flat, I took his hand and led him towards the bedroom.

My baby had no idea what was I planning to do, his face was blushed and his blue eyes were wide with wonder.

" Mum." he called me in a whisper, his voice trembling.

" Yes?" I whispered back.

" What are we gonna do?" he asked.

" You are going to take your clothes off." was my answer.

His cheeks turned even redder, he started to undo the buttons of his shirt with nervous hands.

I followed his motion, removing all my clothes while he remained with his trousers and underwear on.

I pushed him to sit on the bed, my hand reached into his trousers to unbutton them and pull them down his legs.

His gaze was on me as I kneeled on the floor and removed his boxer. His member accidentally sprang out and slapped my cheek, making me giggle.

His cock was beyond what I was expecting it to be, it was much longer than his father's and thick enough to give a hard time.

" Lay on the bed with your legs wide open, honey." I commanded him, and as a good kid as he had always been he obliged silently.

His eyes were full of lust and uncertainty for what was about to come. I sat on my knees in between his legs, his cock was standing up right in front of my face.

My hands motioned on his shaft, stroking it gently and slowly. He moaned so cutely that made me wetter.

I leaned on his dick, kissing his head and licking his shaft from the base to the tip. His moans were getting louder with each lick, I could feel his cock twitching on my tongue.

My lips parted widely to let me shallow him, my mouth covered his cock entirely it was so deep down my throat I started to gag. I bobbed my head up and down sucking his cock as best as I could, his hips moved upwards pushing the shaft more down my throat making me gag. My saliva was drooling down my lips, he placed his hands on my scalp gently guiding my motion without forcing me.

With a loud pop, I released his cock from my mount, replacing it with my hand. I lowered myself down his shaft to the balls, my lips gave them a lick and his body trembled.

" N-not there." he stuttered cutely under my touch.

I smirked nastily taking a bit of my spit on my index finger, I rubbed his hole making it wetter. He tensed up as he saw me doing that.

" Mum, what are you doing?" His voice was so small and innocent, making me feel so dirty.

" Shhh, baby, I know what to do. " My free hand stroked his cock making him relax a bit.

My wetted finger pushed slowly against his hole, reaching his inner walls and curling down to his prostate. I had inserted till the second knuckle of my finger, slowly I started to massage his prostate gland with a 'come hither' motion.

" Fu-fuck. Mum...!" he screamed and his body was twitching under me.

" I'm cumming." I moaned softly. Ropes of semen landed on my face making a mess on me, I swirled my tongue around my lips savouring his delicious cum.

His blue eyes looked at me like he was possessed, his gaze was so heated that he almost burned me.

" I'm gonna put at work that handsome face you have got." I affirmed mounting on his face.

His tongue found my pussy right away, licking it like it was a lollipop. I began to rock my hips on his soft mouth, his hand gripped my ass squeezing it firmly.

His tongue darted inside of my pussy tasting my juices, I moaned with my head leaning back and my eyes closed. I placed a hand on his forehead stroking his hair making him feel better. I started to rock back and forward on his mouth, his lips were stretched widely, and he was licking everything of my pussy.

" You're so good." I praised him. " You're gonna make me cum." I declared as his hands gripped my ass hard. He was eating my pussy with hunger, making me shiver.

My orgasm hit me out of nowhere, his tongue on my clit was too much for me to handle. I rode his face squirting my juices in his mouth.

His eyes were on me the whole time, he could feel my pussy clamping on his tongue as he was licking my cum off of it.

I got off of him panting, my body plotted close to him. " Baby nobody has ever made me cum with just his tongue." I admitted. Our tongues collided as we kissed each other. His lips moved from my lips to my ear, licking my earlobe and nibbling.

" I want to fuck you now, mum." He whispered in my ear, his warm breath made me shiver.

" Take me as you please." I surrendered to him wrapping my legs around him. My pussy was still dripping from my previous orgasm, and his cock slipped inside of me easily. He bottomed out in me with one thrust making me scream in pleasure.

He was filling me so well, his movements were slow and sweet. His hands were caressing my body, my legs were wrapped around him pulling him deep in me.

His cock moved slowly in me as he was thrusting in me from above. His mouth kissed my neck and my collarbone, leaving a trail of red marks on me.

" Faster." I requested him, wanting him to pound my pussy hard.

He obeyed me immediately, his thrusts were now faster and deep than before. I could feel him hitting my cervix with each thrust, it made me scream and moan loudly.

" Mum." He groaned in pleasure as he was fucking me hard.

My hands reached for his ass, pulling him deep in me and squeezing it firmly, making him moan.

" That's it, baby. Keep going." I purred as he hit my sweet spot with each thrust.

I know I was demanding a lot from him, it was his first time and so far he had satisfied me well over my wildest expectations.

He raised his torso from my body, he grabbed my hips in his hand lifting my ass upwards.

He started to pound me deep and fast, my tits were bouncing wildly as he was thrusting hard. I could feel him stretching me out, but I couldn't care less, his cock was feeling too good.

" Baby I'm gonna cum." I screamed. "You are gonna make me squirt again." I announced to him.

His hand slid on my pussy and he found my clit with his fingers. He started to rub it making my pleasure even better. I was so close to cumming that his fingers were enough to send me in an intense orgasm.

His name came out my lips as I came, and my juice gushed out of my pussy coating his cock and balls.

I was a mess. He slowed down a bit sensing that I was too sensitive to keep going as his previous pace.

This was a kind of attention I had never gotten before, but I have to admit that it was pleasant. Even my husband cared just to pound me like a slut when we fucked. I looked up at my son and he was smiling down at me, his face was red and sweaty.

" Rest your body on the bed, I'll ride you like you cannot even have dreamt of." I purred in his ear biting the earlobe. He nodded and did so.

I took a deep breath and moved over him; I took one of his nipples in my mouth, licking it firmly. My son moaned and squirmed under me as my tongue was moving on his nipple. My other hand reached for his cock, stroking it firmly; he was such a sucker for the foreplay.

" It's time for me to do a bit of work." I asserted straddling

him. My pussy still dripping wet and it swallowed his cock with ease.

I started to move on his cock at first slowly making his eyes roll in pleasure. I could see him biting his lower lip, as he was trying to be quiet. He was doing his best to not make a single sound, but he was failing. His moans were so adorable, that made me want to tease him even more. I leaned in, my tits were just above his face.

" Bite my tits." I ordered him. He obeyed immediately taking one of my nipples in his mouth and sucking it hungrily. I moaned under his touch, his hands went to my hips as he was pulling me down on his cock.

The angle was perfect, his cock was hitting my G-spot with each of his thrusts, making me cum a bit each time.

I lifted one of my breasts in his mouth giving him the other nipple to suck. He switched sides immediately, devouring it in his mouth like a hungry animal.

" More." I pleaded him wanting to feel his teeth on me. His teeth were so sharp that I knew they would hurt a bit, but it was just the right amount of pain to mix with my pleasure.

He obliged me immediately biting on my nipple with his teeth, making me cry out in pleasure.

His hand moved to my ass squeezing it firmly as he was thrusting deep and fast in my pussy.

I kissed him torridly, my mouth swallowing his moans. I started to grind my pussy on his cock as I was sitting on him. His hands went to my ass again helping me to move up and down on him.

" Oh god, this is so good." He moaned in my mouth. I smiled knowing that I was satisfying him well. His cock was deep in me as I could feel it hitting my cervix making my walls clamping on it. His thrusts were becoming more urgent, he was getting close to cumming.

" Cum for me, baby." I whispered to him looking at him with lustful eyes.

"Where?" he asked me breathlessly.

"Inside. Do it ." I answered him.

His movements became frantic, he was pounding me deep and fast making me scream as he was cumming. His seed was shooting in my womb making me orgasm with him. I felt his cock twitching inside of me as it was pumping his cum.

I kept kissing him as we were running down our orgasms. My head rested on his chest, which was moving up and down with his breathing. His hands were still on me rubbing my skin gently. We lay down like that for a while dozing off without realizing it.

I woke up before my adored son. I made up my mind, never in a million years I could leave him now I have finally someone who cherished me with all his essence. I was wealthy enough to afford to lose a job in London and relocate here to Oxford, the University would have been happy to welcome me back and so my former colleagues.

My son would have been so happy to have me here for him. He was my only child and the love I had for him was beyond any comparison. I knew that it was not healthy to be in a relationship with your own son, but what is healthy in this world?

His father, I didn't even have the guts to call him my husband anymore, only cared about his work and his new assistant.

My son started to move in his sleep, his moans were adorable, they were making me feel hot all over.

I kissed his cheeks waking him up, his eyes opened and he looked at me in wonder.

" Good morning." I whispered. " Good morning, mum." his voice was still husky from sleep. His arms wrapped around me, holding me close to him. I felt at home, he was so safe and warm. He made me feel better than any other man I've ever been with.

" Baby, do you love me right?" I questioned him. " As a woman I mean."

He nodded immediately, a smile appearing on his lips. " Mum, you are the prettiest woman I've ever seen and you're my mum." I blushed at his words, I knew he was sincere and I loved him so much too.

" Can we be together?" I asked him.

His face softened, and a smirk appeared on his lips. His hand went to my pussy touching it lightly. " Yes, mum." was his answer.

" I was wondering if you would be down to include a third person in our relationship.” I told him, and his face turned serious immediately.

" Not a chance." he responded without even thinking.

" Not even if I want Nayeon to be with us?" I smirked, I've always known he was fond of that bunny girl. His face changed, he looked at me with a new interest.

" Really? She would be down with that?" His curiosity was making him so cute.

" I don't know yet, but we could ask her. What do you say?" I asked him.

He thought for a few seconds before nodding in agreement. " I would be fine with it."

I smiled at him, kissing his forehead and hugging him tightly. " Now, move your butt and provide some breakfast for the two of us."

" Five minutes." he complained kissing pecking and pecking my lips. "Your mouth is so addictive."

He caressed my back slowly and tenderly, it sent goosebumps down my spine.

We went downstairs holding hands, my pussy was sore but it was the good kind of soreness. He wore his boxers and a T-shirt while I just had on my panties and the T-shirt he was wearing yesterday.

He prepared two cups of tea for us and a big portion of toast with jam. We sat in the living room on the couch eating together and chatting.

The day passed by slowly, my baby was so loving and caring, he kept hugging and kissing me all day long. I loved the attention he was giving me, and his eyes were showing me that he was feeling the same.

Nayeon anticipated her comeback knowing we were in Oxford, she came late at night just before dinner.

I was on my son's lap riding his cock wildly, I was in heat and I couldn't stop myself from riding him like a wild beast. His mouth was on my tits sucking my nipples with hunger. I screamed his name as I came on his cock, his seed followed mine filling my pussy with it.

As we were catching our breath, we heard the bell ringing. I got off of his lap quickly, reaching for my skirt and top.

I got to the door opening it and Nayeon was on the other side, she looked at me curiously, probably wondering what I was doing here and not my husband.

" Nayeon! Come inside." I welcomed her. She took off her coat and bag before entering, she stopped in her tracks when she saw my baby on the sofa. He was still in his boxers, but he looked quite guilty.

" J-jihyo." She stuttered.

" Hi dear." I answered her. I moved towards my son who was sitting on the sofa, and I straddled him again. I kissed his lips and I could taste the remnants of our juices on them.

" What are you two doing?" she questioned me and my son, she knew that we were close but I don't think she suspected us to be so close like that.

" Oh, we are just discussing a few things." I stated looking at her. She was wearing a short white dress paired with black stockings and black high heels.

My son's blue eyes scanned her figure, and I knew he liked what he was seeing. I got up from his lap and motioned her to come and join us on the sofa.

" Sit with us." I smiled at her, her expression was still curious. She walked over to us sitting beside him. She looked at us both as if waiting for an explanation.

" You know we love you, don't you?" I started asking her. " Of course, I love you too." she answered looking at us with confusion.

" I will stay here in this flat, I'm in a romantic love with my son but we have been wondering if you'd like to join us." I stated. Her face was still looking at me in wonder.

Her eyes darted to my son who was looking at her in desire. " You know I have always had a thing for you, don't you?" he asked her timidly.

Nayeon 's cheeks turned bright red, she nodded in response. Her face turned in my direction as if she was asking for permission.

I smiled at her. " Go for it." I told her.

My son's hands reached her thighs and he started to rub them slowly and tenderly. I watched as their bodies started to react to each other.

She moved closer to him kissing his lips, their tongues colliding in a passionate kiss.

I took the moment to watch them, their eyes were closed and their moans were filling the room.

My son was still in his boxers, and my pretty bunny had her dress and stockings on. I could tell he was horny as hell, he wanted to fuck her badly.

She broke the kiss and looked at me, probably wondering if I was still okay with her being with my son. I gave her a nod and she smiled back at me.

His had undid the buttons of her short dress, her tits were on full display for him and he started to lick and suck them eagerly.

She moaned loudly and squirmed under him, her pussy was wetter than ever. I reached for my baby's cock and started to stroke it slowly. He moaned against her tits making her laugh and blush.

His boxers were off of his legs and I was stroking his cock firmly, Nayeon gasped as she saw him naked for the first time.

" He is bigger than I expected." she giggled.

I laughed at her comment, I was happy to know that my baby had pleased her so much.

She removed her dress and she was just in her stockings and bra, her body was so pretty and toned.

She straddled my son, taking his cock in her hands and stroking it slowly. My hand helped her guide his shaft inside of her pussy. She was so tight that she screamed in pleasure as his cock bottomed out in her.

I stood up from the sofa, moving behind her. I reached for her bra undid it and removed it from her body. I massaged her shoulders and back making her relax under my touch.

" So good, baby." She moaned as she was bouncing on his cock. Her pussy was taking him in like a hungry beast, she was so greedy for his cock.

I smirked at her reaction, I knew what she was feeling. His cock was the best one I've ever had in me.

Nayeon leaned forward making out with my son as she was riding him more savagely, her ass was slamming against his pelvis each time she was going down on his dick. I smirked knowing he was loving that.

" Baby don't let her do all the work." I observed sitting beside him.

He smirked and started to pound her from below, his thrusts became faster and harder. Nayeon was screaming in pleasure, her walls were tightening around his cock.

" Don't stop." she purred in his ear. " I'm fucking close."

My hand reached her pussy rubbing her clit and her pussy lips making her scream my name. She started to cum on his cock squirting her juices in his balls.

" Oh gosh." He moaned, his teeth were biting her shoulder making her scream more.

I removed my skirt and panties. " Baby take her from behind." I suggested him scooting a bit further away spreading my legs.

He spanked her ass making her jump before pulling out, Nayeon lay on the sofa with her butt facing up. She crawled towards me placing her head on my lap, I stroked her hair tenderly.

My son kneeled behind her and pulled her hips upwards making her pussy available for him. His cock was hard and dripping with pre-cum.

I placed a kiss on her lips as my baby started to thrust in her from behind. She moaned in pleasure, as my tongue darted inside of her mouth.

She tasted so good, like a ripe strawberry. I could taste her juices in her mouth.

He was pounding her harder, his thrusts were urgent and needy. Nayeon's pussy was dripping with cum, her juices were coating her thighs.

" It's too deep, bloody hell." she moaned breaking our kiss. She buried her face down brushing against my

pussy lips.

" That's it baby, make her scream." I purred stroking my tits with my hands. Nayeon was working on my folds with her fingers making me moan. Her tongue was tasting my clit making me shiver.

She was so good at it. My son was pounding her so hard that her legs trembling.

" I'm cumming again, fuck." Nayeon hissed squirting once more on his cock. My baby was moaning loudly, his thrust became erratic and urgent.

I lifted Nayeon's face, her expression was a statement of pure bliss. " Where do you want him to release?" I asked her. She blushed a bit knowing she wanted him to cum in her.

" Inside." she whispered, her voice was small and cute.

I laughed and nodded, " Baby, you heard her. Do you worst with her."

My son held her waist with his hands pounding her like a wild animal. Her pussy took him in, again and again, I lead her face down to town letting her suck on my pussy.

Her tongue was so soft, it was making me shiver. " I'm about to cum." He announced finally.

" Fill me to the brim, do it." Nayeon cried out.

He rammed a few more times before his cock started to twitch inside of her. His cum coated her pussy filling it to the brim.

I screamed as I came, Nayeon kept licking me till I finished my orgasm. I was panting as I pulled her back on my chest.

Her face was flushed, her lips swollen. My son's hands were still holding her waist, his cum leaking out her pussy making a mess on my sofa.

" You're gonna need to clean that." He smirked pulling out of her pussy.

Nayeon and I were still lying on the sofa panting, she turned to look at him and kissed his lips sweetly.

" As your girlfriend I warn you, I'm possessive with my belongings." her tone sent a shiver down his spine.

" I'll be yours only, pretty bunny." he purred kissing her forehead. She turned to lay on her back looking at me with wonder. " Are you really going to stay here?"

I nodded. " I am. I want to be with my baby, he is my world now."

She smiled at me giving me a sweet smile. " I'm happy for you two."

I laughed at her statement. " It's just the three of us now. No more hiding."

" Oh, I like the sound of it." She purred in my arms, as my baby snuggled on my other side.

...

Nayeon's POV.

We were on a date in a small cafe, facing one of the most picturesque streets in the city. I was feeling pretty today, wearing a yellow dress and her hair in a ponytail.

My boyfriend was telling me about my last class when the waiter, a tall and toned guy, came to us. He was handsome, he had a messy blonde hair and deep brown eyes. His member must have been huge given the bulge noticeable on his trousers.

He had looked at me since we entered the cafe, he was checking me out like it was a sin to be that beautiful.

He was writing down our order, his eyes were on my legs the whole time. " Here, can I ask for your number?" he dared to ask me in front of my boyfriend.

I smirked at him. " No, I don't give away my number to anyone." I replied.

The guy pouted, but he didn't look disappointed, he knew he would have got his chance sooner or later. My boyfriend looked at me and I saw his eyes getting darker with jealousy, he hated it when other guys looked at me like that.

" Don't worry, baby." I whispered to him placing a kiss on his cheek. "I'm yours only."

" Why should I worry? You just stared at him like he was a meal." He replied to me back.

" I was not, baby, I swear." I lied to him.

" Whatever, I need to go to the toilet." he got up and walked towards the bathroom.

The waiter was coming to us with the order; his eyes were still on me. " You are too gorgeous to stay with a guy like him." he whispered to me. " He is too insignificant for a girl like you."

I smirked at him biting my lips. The guy looked at me like he wanted to fuck me right here on the table.

" Maybe, we'll see." I giggled.

" Oh I have got a thing, you would be very interested to see." he asserted, moving his hand along the bulge on his trousers.

" That's gross." I replied still looking at him with lust. " You shouldn't do that."

" You want it, I can see that in your eyes." he smirked back.

" You wish pervert." I declared as soon as my love came back wrapping his arms around my shoulder from behind.

" Let's go. I've had enough of this place." his voice was low and seemed calm, but I could sense he was pissed.

We walked back to the flat silently he was holding my hand a bit more tightly than usual, a sign of his jealousy.

When we reached the flat, my love threw me on the sofa and I laughed at his actions. He glared at me, his blue eyes were sparkling with anger.

" Flirting with a waiter in front of me, that required audacity or stupidity it depends on the point of view." his voice was cold as the ice in his eyes.

" I wasn't flirting. I was just looking at him." I tried to defend myself.

" Bullshit. He was eating you alive with his eyes and you were playing along." his voice got harsher. He undid his belt and unzipped his trousers, he pulled out his cock stroking it slowly and firmly.

I licked my lips watching him, his dick was already leaking pre-cum. His hand went to my skirt and removed it making me sit on the sofa in my thong.

His hand reached in between my legs, his fingers rubbed my pussy lips and my clit. " So wet already." he commented sliding two fingers inside without warning.

" You bastard." I moaned while he was fingering me rough.

His fingers were moving at an alarming speed inside of me.

His thumb found my clit and rubbed it gently, his lips came to rest on my neck. " Now I'll show you why you are mine."

He removed his fingers from my pussy and grabbed my hips in his hands making me stand on all four. He pulled out my thong and his cock slid inside of me without warning. I gasped in surprise as he hit my cervix, he was so deep that I could feel him in my womb.

" Baby, slow down." I begged him. His grip on my waist got tighter making him push me deeper in me.

" No." was his answer, his voice sounded so cold. My ass was slamming against his pelvis as he was pounding me. His hands moved to my tits grabbing them in his hands. " Your pussy is too tight, you're making me cum." he whispered in my ear.

" That's the point, baby." I moaned as he hit my G-spot with each thrust.

His thrusts were faster than before; he was making my pussy take all of him. I was about to cum when he removed his cock from me, denying my climax.

" The hell are you doing." I complained vividly. He didn't answer me, instead he grabbed my hair pulling me up from the sofa.

He made me stand in front of the sofa looking at him, he was still fully clothed except for his trousers which were at his ankles. I started to kiss him deeply, his hands moved to my ass squeezing it firmly.

" That's how you should act, no flirting with others." he told me seriously. " Bed now." was his order.

I obeyed him silently, he walked beside me till we reached my room. He closed the door behind him and locked it. " Remove your clothes." his voice was still cold, he looked at me as if I were his toy.

I removed the remaining bits of my outfit standing in front of him fully naked.

"That's a sight to behold." he asserted removing his own clothes. I lay on my bed spreading my legs open in invitation.

He crawled on the bed never diverting his eyes from mine, he was making me feel desired. His lips traced a path along my neck, his hands reached my tits sucking on my nipples with hunger.

His cock was throbbing against my thigh, his movements were so slow and torturing that I was starting to feel desperate.

" Please." I whimpered.

" Shut it." his mouth moved down showering my midriff with kisses till he arrived into town giving a long lick to my pussy lips.

I moaned loudly, my pussy was dripping wet. His tongue darted into my pussy tasting my juices. His hands were under my thighs lifting them up.

He sucked on my pussy, his tongue was dancing in my walls making me shiver and moan. His fingers found my clit rubbing it in circles making me scream my climax. He removed his mouth from my pussy as he tasted my juices on his tongue, he looked like a predator ready to devour his prey.

He leaned over my body, his cock found my pussy in no time and he was sliding deep inside of me till the hilt. My walls clamped on him immediately, my body was still trembling with my orgasm. His thrusts were deep and slow, he was giving me the sweetest of lovs. My hands wrapped around his neck, I was pulling him to kiss me. His mouth found mine tasting my lips slowly.

Our bodies moved in sync with each other, he was fucking me so deeply that I could feel his cock head hitting my cervix. His mouth moved on my skin placing kisses on my body.

" Oh my god." I moaned in pleasure. His hands found my tits kneading them roughly.

My pussy clenched around his cock, my walls tightened making his cock twitch inside of me.

" Not yet." he growled stopping his thrusting.

His face softened staring at me, he pecked my lips tenderly. " Nay, can I go a bit faster?" his voice was awfully cute. " I need you so badly."

" Fuck me hard, baby." I answered back.

His hands went to my thighs lifting them upwards and spreading them wide. His cock bottomed out inside of me immediately making me scream in pleasure.

His thrust became fast and wild, he was pounding me like a beast, my ass was slapping against his pelvis with each thrust.

My pussy was stretching to accommodate his length, it was so sensitive that his thrusts made me feel so good that I could cry.

His eyes were closed, his moans filled the room, they were driving me insane. " Honey keep going. I'm close." I urged him.

His thrust became urgent, his cock was twitching inside of me signaling that he was close to cumming. His hands grabbed my waist pulling me upwards as he pounded me like a wild beast.

" You are making me cum again." I screamed releasing my juices in his cock.

He was losing control; his thrusts became frantic. " Nay. I'm gonna cum." he warned me.

" Pull it out I got a surprise for you." I told him, making him lay on the bed spreading his legs to make some room for me. I licked his cock slowly and tenderly, his balls were still dripping with my juices. I liked two of my own fingers, making them glistering with my saliva.

" I'm gonna give you a prostatic massage." I warned him. His eyes were wide in wonder as I started to rub his asshole with my finger.

I knew it was a bit kinky, but he didn't protest. Slowly but surely I inserted one of my fingers in his hole. I felt him tensing up under my touch, but his cock was still throbbing. I moved my finger inside of him gently, it was the first time I was doing it, but my instincts seemed to work well. He was moaning loudly, his hand stroked my hair tenderly as I was pleasuring him.

My finger was deep inside of him till the second knuckle; his body was trembling. I found his prostate with ease and started to massage it firmly. My other hand was wrapped around his shaft stroking it fast. He moaned loudly, his body was shivering under my touch.

" Nay. I'm cumming." he gasped.

" Cum for me." I whispered back. His cock twitched in my hand as his orgasm hit him. His cum was shooting out in ropes, I took a few drops on my lips tasting them.

His body was relaxed, his breathing was slowing down. I laid on his chest, my head was resting on his shoulder as he held me in his arms.

" Thank you, baby." he whispered placing a kiss on my forehead. " That was amazing."

" I know." I smirked kissing his chest. " But don't forget you owe me a round tomorrow"

He chuckled and I could feel the vibrations of his laughter under me.

Jihyo came opening my door. " Can I get him?" Her voice was almost tired after a full day at work.

I nodded too shattered to do anything more than sleep. My love kissed me sweetly and moved to his mum happily to see her.

...

Jihyo's POV

When I returned home from my last lecture I heard my son shouting in pleasure in Nayeon's room.

Today I wore a simple but alluring sleeveless black dress that ended way before my knees. Students had ogled me during my lectures, my legs were toned and my ass was round. My black heels enhanced my curves perfectly, I looked like a supermodel more than a teacher.

I took off my heels and coat before entering the house, I walked silently till I reached Nayeon's door.

I heard my son moaning and begging her to finish him. My pussy clenched at the thought of them having sex. I had never been with a woman before but I had always wondered what it would be like.

I pushed the door open slowly, my son was laying on the bed and Nayeon was over him with her ass up in the air.

"Can I get him?" I questioned, I needed him so badly.

Nayeon let him go falling asleep before we left the room. I took him to my bedroom where he took my hand making me spin like we were dancing, I giggled and he laughed with me.

"I love you, mum." He told me once we were in bed.

" I love you too, baby. I miss you so much." I admitted to him kissing his forehead. His hands went to my ass grabbing it firmly and squeezing it. I moaned in his arms.

" Did you have a good day?" he questioned.

" I did, in this dress I made turning heads in the university." I confessed to him. My son smirked and pinched my my inner thigh hard a few times making me laugh.

" So nasty to make those students dream of you." he affirmed biting the point where he pinched me, my soft flesh

was red from his touch.

"I can't help it." I defended myself, my cheeks were red and flushed with embarrassment.

" Of course not. You are a goddess." He praised me. I blushed at his compliment and I felt so good in his arms. His mouth found my neck nibbling it tenderly.

His hands went for my dress undoing the front buttons, his hands were so gentle that I felt like I was in heaven.

" Take it off." He commanded me and I did so roughly removing my dress and bra.

His eyes found my tits immediately as always, he moved his semi-hard cock closer to them.

" Do you want me to let you fuck my tits?" I questioned him reading in his mind.

" Yes, please." he replied me.

He aligned his member in the middle of my breasts while I squeezed them together making a nice cleavage for his cock. I stroked his cock with my tits making him groan in pleasure.

" You have the softest tits in the world." he praised me.

His hands were massaging my tits with so much gentleness, his member was throbbing in between my tits.

I squished my tits tighter making him moan louder. His thrusts were getting faster, he was about to cum. His face was contorted in pleasure, I could see he was trying to hold back his orgasm.

His movements became erratic, his cock twitching in between my tits. " I'm about to cum." He gasped out of breath.

" Go for it, baby." I encouraged him.

His cum was shooting out on my tits, he had cum so much that it was dripping on my chest.

" That was too good." He whispered placing a kiss on each of my tits. His tongue licked my tits cleaning his own cum from me.

" Son can you go one more time?" I asked him. I know I was pretending a lot since he already cum twice tonight but I was confident in his stamina.

" I can try, mum." he answered me. I smirked at his reply, I instructed him to lie down while I mounted on him.

" I'll fuck you hard, baby." I informed him grabbing his dick on my hand while raising a leg to make the access more easy. I lowered my body down on his cock taking him all in one thrust. He moaned loudly under me, his hands grabbed my ass cheeks squeezing them firmly.

" You're too tight, mum. I can't last." he warned me, but I was not listening. I started to move up and down on him slowly at first making him feel every inch of my pussy. His eyes were closed, his mouth was half-open.

He looked so cute and innocent that my heart swelled with love. I planted my hands on his chest to have a better balance, I moved up to his tip and slammed down violently bottoming out inside of me. My pussy walls clenched on him making his cock twitch.

" Mum, you're too good." he moaned placing his hands on my waist to help me move up and down.

I started to bounce on his cock at a frantic pace, my pussy walls were stretched to accommodate his girth. My tits were jumping up and down with each of my movements, he took one of my tits in his mouth sucking on it like he wanted to get milk out of it. His tongue was tracing circles around my nipple making me moan in pleasure.

I leaned in, kissing him deeply; my tongue was dancing with his in a passionate kiss. His hands squeezed my ass, making me feel like I was on fire, my pussy clenched around him, making him gasp in pleasure. I knew I was about to cum, I could feel it in my bones. My thrust became more urgent, his cock twitched inside of me, and it was signalling that he was going to cum soon too.

I removed my mouth from his, my orgasm hit me, and my juices coated his cock and balls.

" I'm about to cum, mum." he whispered. He grabbed my hips moving me up and down on his shaft wildly, his cock bottomed out in me again and again, and my pussy tightened around him making him scream in pleasure. His cock twitched violently inside of me as he released his load.

" You filled me so much, baby." I purred as his cum was leaking out of my pussy, he was still pumping in my cunt. His left hand gripped my waist while the right one was on my head, caressing my short hair. I smiled at him, my heart swelling with love for him. He was so perfect that I couldn't imagine a life without him. I was a lucky woman, he was my everything, the love of my life.

Nayeon came into the bedroom naked as the day she was born, she seemed ecstatic to see us like that. She hopped on the bed wrapping herself around me and kissing my neck and shoulders.

I pulled her in my arms holding her and my son with all my love.

I loved my son with every fibre of my being and Nayeon, I had never felt this way for a girl before, but she had won me over. She was the perfect addition to our relationship. I would have done anything to make her and my son happy, they were my world and reason for existing. They made me feel alive like no one had ever done. Three is the magic number.

#twice smut #twice nayeon x male reader #twice jihyo x male reader #twice nayeon #twice jihyo

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