#really just playing around with brushes here lol

[ponderingmoonlight]

How JJK Men React to Seeing You in Their Clothes

Pairings: Gojo x fem!reader; Megumi x fem!reader; Yuta x fem!reader; Nanami x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,5k

Warnings: fluff over fluff, I'm pretty sure I already wrote something like this but I can't find it anymore lol, all scenarios talk about the clothes of the said jjk men being big on you so please don't read if this isn't what you vibe with (but feel free to let me know if you want a version in which their clothes actually fit reader quite well!)

Gojo Satoru

The apartment is unusually quiet as you move through the living room, your bare feet padding lightly across the cool floor. Gojo had left early this morning to deal with some “business,” leaving you alone with nothing but a mess of his belongings scattered around. You’re not one to complain though - cleaning up after him has become second nature after spending so much time together.

As you tidy up his place, you come across one of his oversized hoodies. It’s sprawled across the back of a chair, still slightly wrinkled from when he wore it the night before. The faint scent of his cologne lingers in the fabric, and for reasons you can’t quite explain, you find yourself reaching for it.

It’s soft, much softer than you expected. You hold it for a moment, staring at it thoughtfully before a mischievous grin tugs at your lips. You slip the hoodie over your head, the fabric swallowing you whole. The sleeves are comically long, almost covering your hands completely, and the hemline reaches down to your thighs. It’s so big that it feels like you’re wearing a blanket, and despite yourself, you giggle at the sight of your reflection in the hallway mirror.

You sit down on the couch, pulling your legs up under the hoodie, and let yourself relax into the comfort of wearing something that smells like him. His signature cologne that follows him around wherever he goes, that makes your heart skip a beat every time you smell it. To be honest, you really miss him. These past weeks were so busy that you didn’t really get the chance to see him more than 2 hours before passing out sleeping. What you’d do for a whole afternoon, just you and him…

Not long after, you hear the oh so accustomed sound of the door unlocking, followed by the familiar voice of Satoru calling out, “I’m home!”

You stiffen for a moment, wondering how he’ll react, but you can’t hide now. Fuck, you never wore his clothes before. After all, they belong to him and you have no right to grab his stuff as you please.

Before you can say anything to defend yourself, Gojo steps into the living room, his bright blue eyes immediately locking onto you.

There’s a beat of silence. Then, a slow, amused grin spreads across his face.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” he teases, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed.

His sunglasses are perched on his head, revealing his crystalline eyes that seem to glow with delight.

“Did you raid my closet while I was gone?”

You roll your eyes, trying to play it cool despite the sudden warmth creeping up your neck.

“Your place was cold. Figured I’d borrow something.”

Gojo doesn’t respond right away. Instead, he walks over to you, crouching in front of the couch as he eyes you up and down. His grin widens as he takes in the way the hoodie completely engulfs you, making you look even smaller than usual.

“Looks good on you,” he murmurs, his voice lower now, laced with something playful but undeniably affectionate.

He reaches out, tugging on one of the oversized sleeves gently.

“In fact, I think it suits you better than it does me.”

You scoff, though your heart skips a beat at the way he’s looking at you, like you’re the most fascinating thing in the world.

“You think everything looks good on me.”

“That’s because it does.”

His grin is infuriatingly confident, but there’s a softness in his gaze that makes your breath catch.

“But you, wearing my clothes? I think that might be my favorite look.”

He leans closer, his nose brushing against your temple before pressing a soft kiss there.

“You can keep it if you want,” he whispers, his breath warm against your skin.

“I don’t think I’m getting it back anyway.”

Megumi Fushiguro

It’s early morning, the sun just beginning to rise over the horizon, casting a soft glow over Megumi’s small apartment. He’s still asleep, his dark hair a mess of unruly strands as he breathes softly beside you. You’ve been staying with him for the weekend, a rare break from the chaos of jujutsu sorcery.

As you quietly slip out of bed, careful not to wake him, you feel the cool air hit your skin. Without thinking, you look around the room for something to cover yourself with. Your eyes land on one of Megumi’s plain black shirts, tossed haphazardly over the back of a chair. It’s oversized, much bigger than anything you’d typically wear, but you shrug and grab it anyway.

Slipping it over your head, the fabric is soft and familiar, carrying the faint scent of him. It hangs loosely on your frame, the sleeves too long and the hem falling halfway down your thighs. You glance at yourself in the mirror, a small smile tugging at your lips. There’s something comforting about wearing his clothes, like having a part of him with you even when he’s asleep.

As you turn back toward the bed, you freeze. Megumi’s awake. His dark eyes are half-lidded, still clouded with sleep as he watches you from the bed. You can’t quite read his expression -it’s a mixture of surprise, confusion, and something else you can’t place.

“You’re up early,” he mutters, his voice still thick with sleep.

You shrug, feeling a little self-conscious under his gaze.

“Couldn’t sleep. I didn’t think you’d mind if I borrowed your shirt.”

Megumi blinks, his gaze drifting over you slowly. He doesn’t say anything right away, but you can see the way his eyes linger on the way the shirt swallows you, how it looks like you’re drowning in fabric. After a long moment, he finally speaks, his voice quieter than before.

“It looks good on you,” he finally speaks out, a little awkwardly, as if he’s not quite sure how to compliment you.

“Better than it does on me.”

You can’t help but laugh at how flustered he seems, even though he’s trying to play it cool.

“Really? I think it’s a little big.”

Megumi shakes his head, sitting up in bed and running a hand through his messy hair.

“No. It’s perfect.”

He pauses for a moment before adding, almost shyly,

“You should wear my stuff more often.”

His words catch you off guard, and you raise an eyebrow at him, surprised. Even though you know all too well that Megumi Fushiguro has a soft spot for you, you never really thought about stealing or borrowing his stuff. After all, he is the guy who slaps the back of Yuji’s head each and every day over stealing his sandwich or equipment. And now…he’s telling you straightforward that he wants you to wear his shirts?

“You want me to?”

He looks away, his usual stoic mask slipping just a bit as a faint blush creeps up his cheeks.

“I mean... yeah. It suits you.”

Your heart skips a beat at his admission. Megumi isn’t one for big, flowery declarations, but this, this small, almost hesitant compliment, is enough to make your chest warm. You walk over to him, climbing back into bed and curling up beside him like you always do after waking up.

“Well, if you insist,” you mutter teasingly, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“I might just steal more of your clothes.”

Megumi huffs, but there’s a softness in his eyes as he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer.

“Go ahead,” he mumbles, tugging at the hem of his loose shirt.

“I don’t mind.”

Yuta Okkotsu

You’ve been staying at Yuta’s apartment for the past few days, crashing at his place while you’re both on a break from missions. It’s been nice: quiet, peaceful, just the two of you enjoying each other’s company without the usual chaos of jujutsu high looming over you.

It’s late in the evening now, and you’ve just gotten out of the shower, feeling refreshed after a long day. As you towel off your hair, you realize you forgot to grab something to wear. Your suitcase is still in the living room, and you don’t really feel like walking out there in just a towel.

Your groan in frustration over your usual absent-mindlessness, eyes landing on one of Yuta’s old sweatshirts, folded neatly on the chair by his desk. It’s a little worn, clearly well-loved, and the idea of wearing something of his brings a smile to your face. Yuta definitely wouldn’t mind you wearing one of his shirts, right? And even if he did…you’d love to see that little blush creep up his face.

Without thinking twice, you pull the sweatshirt over your head. It’s oversized, the sleeves long enough to cover your hands, and the fabric is soft and cozy against your skin.

You’re adjusting the sleeves when the door creaks open slightly. You look up just as Yuta steps into the room, his eyes widening in surprise when he sees you.

“Oh, hey-” he starts, but then he freezes, his gaze locking onto the sweatshirt you’re wearing.

His face flushes almost instantly, a deep red creeping up his cheeks as he stares at you.

“Uh… is that…?”, Yuta stammers, clearly flustered.

You glance down at the sweatshirt and smile sheepishly.

“Yeah, I hope you don’t mind. I forgot to grab my clothes, and this looked comfortable.”

Yuta blinks, his face still bright red, but he quickly shakes his head.

“No! I mean, I don’t mind at all! It’s just… you look… um…”

He trails off, his eyes flicking away as if he’s too embarrassed to finish the sentence.

You giggle softly, stepping closer to him, to tease the hell out of him even more. That poor innocent boy who doesn’t even dare looking your direction when you stumble in the bathroom in the morning with noting but a shirt and panties on.

Even though you’ve been together for over a year by now.

“I look… what?”

Yuta clears his throat, still avoiding your gaze.

“You look… really cute,” he mutters, barely audible.

“In my sweatshirt, I mean.”

Your heart swells at his words, and you can’t help but smile as you reach out and take his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Thanks, Yuta.”

He finally meets your gaze, his face still red but his expression softening as he squeezes your hand back.

“You can wear my clothes anytime you want,” he says quietly, a shy smile tugging at his lips.

You grin, stepping closer and wrapping your arms around his waist.

“I might just take you up on that.”

Yuta chuckles, his arms wrapping around you in return as he pulls you close.

 “I wouldn’t mind,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“Not at all.”

Nanami Kento

It’s late, and Nanami is still out on a mission. You’ve been waiting for him to come home, but the clock is ticking past midnight, and exhaustion is beginning to catch up with you. After all, you’ve had a long and exhausting day at work yourself.

You’re curled up on the couch, half-asleep, when the chill of the evening air prompts you to grab something warmer to wear.

Your own clothes are in the bedroom, and you don’t feel like moving that far. Instead, your eyes land on one of Nanami’s neatly folded dress shirts, sitting on the back of a chair. It’s probably not the warmest option, but the idea of wearing something of his feels comforting, like having a part of him with you while you wait for him to return.

You slip the shirt on, the crisp fabric soft against your skin. It’s too big, of course, the sleeves hanging past your wrists and the hem falling almost to your knees, but it’s cozy in its own way. You curl up on the couch again, pulling the sleeves over your hands and breathing in the faint scent of him that still lingers on the fabric.

You don’t realize you’ve dozed off until the sound of the front door opening stirs you awake. You sit up groggily, blinking as Nanami steps inside, looking tired but unharmed. He pauses when he sees you, his eyes widening slightly as he takes in the sight of you wearing his shirt.

For a moment, neither of you say anything. Then, a small, almost imperceptible smile tugs at the corner of Nanami’s lips.

“You’re wearing my shirt,” he observes, his voice calm but with a hint of amusement.

You rub your eyes sleepily, nodding.

“It was cold, and I didn’t feel like getting up.”

Nanami walks over to you, his expression soft as he takes in the sight of you.

 “It suits you,” he murmurs, his voice low and warm.

“I didn’t expect to come home to this.”

You shrug, feeling a little self-conscious under his gaze.

“If you don’t like it, I can-”

“I like it,” he cuts in, his tone firm but gentle.

He reaches out, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear before his hand lingers at your cheek.

“I like it very much.”

You smile, leaning into his touch as you look up at him.

“I might have to borrow your clothes more often, then.”

Nanami chuckles softly, his thumb brushing against your cheek before he leans down to press a soft kiss to your forehead.

“You’re welcome to them,” he breathes out.

“Though I have to admit, you make my clothes look much better than I do.”

You laugh softly, your heart warming at his rare display of affection.

“I doubt that.”

Nanami shakes his head, his eyes soft and filled with affection as he looks at you.

“It’s true. But regardless, you’re welcome to them anytime” he insists.

With that, he sits down beside you on the couch, pulling you into his side as he wraps an arm around your shoulders. You snuggle into him, the warmth of his body and the comfort of his shirt making you feel safe and content.

“Thank you, Kento,” you whisper, closing your eyes as exhaustion starts to pull you back into sleep.

Nanami presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, his voice low and soothing as he murmurs,

“Anytime, love.”

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[adoresia]

Imagine…

coming to the end of your date with Satoru and you want to film a TikTok video of yourself in memory of the view and also how good you looked. But for extra effect you wanted the wind to blow your hair so it looked like it was flowing in the wind in front of the setting sun, unfortunately there was no wind. So you had to take matters into your own hands…

“Omg toru, I didn't get any good videos wait.” You paused everything you were doing and ran up to the balcony of the restaurant he took you too. The sun hastily setting creating a warm hue in the sky

“We can go take them now look the sun is setting and everything! Might even take some videos of myself ngl.” Gojo exclaimed excitedly, he never wanted to miss out on an opportunity of doing stuff with you, whether it be filming a TikTok, baking, shopping… he liked what you liked.

“Who is we? Boy come help me take this video.”

“Lame, who wouldn’t want to see videos of me I’m literally the strongest.” He argued smugly.

“The only person who would probably like your video is Me, and possibly Megumi out of pity.”

“Your so mean to me I literally brought you on this date” he sulked

“Stop complaining and come blow on my face, there isn’t enough wind.”

“Why the hell am I blowing on your face.”

“Because I did my hair extra good today and I want it to flow in the wind like those beach girls on TikTok.”

Without questioning you again, Gojo positions himself standing a little bit to your side making sure he wasn’t in the frame of the camera. And blew with all his might.

“Why are you blowing so HARD… you are NOT the big bad wolf.”

“IM LITERALLY DOING WHAT YOU ASKED ME TO DO.”

“I ASKED YOU TO BLOW NOT CREATE A SPITTING HURRICANE WITH YOUR MOUTH.”

“Stop screaming at me you’re making me sad.” He cooed playfully

“You play too much. Never mind, let’s just go I give up.” You brushed off, you reconned you could just do it the next time he brought you out on a site-seeing date.

“No, please okay I won’t play around this time. I’ll do it properly.”

You stopped for a second debating if you really wanted to retry since you had already closed the app and put your phone away. However you gave in (very easily probably because of the forced pout Gojo had on his face.

“Omg okay fine stop making that face you’re scaring me.”

And so you go again, this time Gojo blows more gently, the air was more caressing as it blew past your face and through the strands your hair. However he stopped before the video had ended which confused you, causing you to turn slightly ready to be met with a harsh blow. But to your surprise, Gojo had walked into the frame dropping a gentle peck on your soft lips before taking your phone and smiling at the camera.

“Aww how nice, toru. I thought you were gonna start playing around again.”

“You didn’t expect me to kiss you huh? I’m so unpredictable.”

“No you’re just really silly, I already knew you were gonna do something like that.”

“Don’t lie now baby.”

You both watched as the video played on repeat, Gojo staring intently locking onto the features on your face and how the aroma of the sun setting behind you had enhanced your beauty even more. You were so enticing. He thought, he could never keep it to himself. That would be selfish

“You’re so beautiful, can I get a kiss back?”

— I saw this TikTok before going to bed and was like wait this is kinda cute imagine how funny it would be with satoru, so here is my thoughts basically LOL. I’m tired now goodnight this drained me omg.

Video inspiration below!!

[wings-of-ink]

I was thinking about an ask I wrote some time ago where MC asked Duri to teach them, if possible, to also be able to turn into a wolf. And Duri, in your answer, used the opportunity to make fun of MC.

But here is a funny scenario: What if against everyone's expectations, MC did end up turning into a wolf after following Duri's instructions. After all, we don't know MC's true origins. By all we know, MC may have some God blood in them, and may possibly be able to turn into an animal and just didn't know.

If you want it would be lovely if, like the original ask, both Oswin and Duri were present. But I understand if you want to limit the scenario to just Duri.

Hilarity and chaos would ensue. This is a fun one, lol. ^_^

Link to the first post:

Picking up where we left off:

You feel the burn of embarrassment as you turn your back on the laughing god and start to follow Oswin. You can't help but pout too...you wanted it so badly. Duri may have made a fool of you, but it doesn't stop you from admiring their wolf-form. You want that for yourself, it calls to your spirit. There's a pull, an unspoken link with your soul.

As you make it through the trees, Oswin sighs heavily. "I should have interrupted sooner...I shouldn't have left you alone with that idiot..."

"It's fine. Maybe I was silly to ask such a thing." You shrink in on yourself.

Oswin stops. "I don't think it's silly. This world is more fantastic than either of us thought...it's not wrong to want to play a bigger part in that."

You can't help but smile a bit. "You really think so?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I do. You're already fantastic in other ways - you don't need to be a magic wolf or anything to be great." He turns to you with a wide and sweet smile, his eyes shining with something unspoken.

The humiliation you feel slowly drifts away as you match his gaze...until his brow begins to furrow. "What's wrong?" you ask.

"Your...well, your eyes..."

"What about them?" You touch the side of your face, perhaps you have dirt near your eyes.

"They're...um, they're glowing." Oswin looks a mix of fright and wonder as he stares at you.

You can barely register what he says before the light bursts from your eyes and surrounds you. You see Oswin flinch from the brightness as you feel a sudden warm sensation in all your limbs. And then, it's over. You look around, and nothing seems unusual...except...now you feel shorter. Why am I shorter? And your clothes...are on the ground. Why am I naked!?

Oswin looks down at you, mouth agape.

You make to speak, but it comes out as a yip. Oh...oooooh.

Duri rushes through the brush behind you. "What was that? I felt..." They spot you.

As you meet Duri's eyes you feel a flood or warmth - a connection - and your heart pulls in excitement. Whatever feelings you had for Duri before are amplified and a whine leaves your throat without your realization.

Duri cups a hand over their mouth and looks from you to Oswin and then back. "They're so cute..."

You growl.

Oswin kneels. "I don't know what to say..."

You watch him closely and notice he's smiling. He's giving you the same look he gets when he sees puppies and seems to be resisting reaching out to pat you. I think he likes this...

Gently, Duri turns your attention back to them. "I had a feeling you had secrets, lambchop, but nothing like this...I hope we're not related..."

You show your teeth - are you smiling or snarling - that's a gamble Duri will need to take.

"What a pretty coat too." Duri guffaws.

I wonder what I look like...

The demigod grins. "Difficult to describe, but your face is black and so are your ears, but the rest of you is a lovely mottled silver. Your eyes are the same color but much lighter than normal - they sort of glow."

You tilt your head.

"And, yes, I can hear you...in a way."

Oswin scoots into your line of sight. "Would you...would you permit me to pat your head? Please?"

Your tail wags.

Oswin gently rubs your head and ears - it feels spectacular. Duri joins in and scritches your chin. No wonder wolves and dogs scramble for this.

Humming in thought, Duri looks you over. "I wonder why you are normal wolf size...maybe you'll grow into it - I was really small when I started. You should get as big as me and we can terrorize the forest together...scare the shit out of the locals." A wicked grin plasters across their face.

Oswin is cupping your furry cheeks, smiling as he gazes at you. "This is wonderful, but I do hope you know how to change back..."

Shit.

[bl0tches]

Very experimental doodle of Genya from an au of mine

[scorpieuns]

GIRLS NEED LOVE | PARK SUNGHOON

summary: you can’t seem to listen when your best friend says her older brother is off limits.

word count: 3.2k

warnings (18+): smut. fluff (if you squint lmfao). swearing. alcohol. kissing. nipple play, fingering (f. receiving).

MINORS DNI!!

A/N: back again after my usual cycle of deleting and remaking accounts here (hopefully this is my last lol). edited and remade this just in case it sounds familiar!

The summer heat was relentless tonight, a thick, suffocating blanket that clung to your skin and refused to let go. You tossed and turned beneath the light sheets, frustration building with every huff of breath.

The air was humid, making it impossible to slumber. Despite having your eyes shut for what felt like an eternity, sleep remained elusive, teasing you from just beyond reach.

You’d like to think there were other reasons besides the warmth of the summer evening that had you feeling hot and bothered. The muffled hum of cicadas outside droned on, an irritating cacophony that seeped through the walls, mingling with the soft snores of your best friend beside you.

But, it wasn’t really the noise that kept you awake—it was the swirling thoughts in your mind, each one pulling you deeper into a mixtape of memories you wished would stay buried.

Your brain, ever the tormentor, delighted in replaying moments you’d rather forget. Moments that belonged in the past, locked away and never to be revisited.

You wanted to blame the events at Jake’s party on the alcohol—specifically that cursed, yet sinfully good, cherry vodka Jay made.

It was the vodka, after all, that led you to kiss your best friend’s brother in the first place.

At least, that’s what you wanted to believe. It was the alcohol…it had to be the alcohol.

It wasn’t the fact that you had a raging crush on him for months. If anything, it was his fault. Sunghoon was the one who escaped from the party to join you. Somehow letting aimless conversation fall into enamoured glances, droning about how pretty you looked that night.

He was the one who slid his hands around your waist and pulled you closer, lips ghosting over yours and pleading to kiss you.

Passionately. Feverishly. Hungrily.

Your eyes snapped open with a frustrated sigh, the darkness of the room doing little to calm the rapid thrum of your heart as you sat up. The memory of Thursday night played vividly in your mind, leaving your chest tight and your thoughts tangled.

Since that night, you hadn’t seen much of Sunghoon, his summer job at the beach keeping him occupied while you and Sooah roamed the town, searching for anything to distract yourselves from the blistering heat.

A part of you was relieved not to see him since Thursday night. You preferred the silence over the possibility of hearing him downplay what happened, blaming it on ‘party spirit’ or the alcohol.

With a sigh, you slipped out of bed, your feet softly padding across the carpeted floor as you made your way out of the room.

Maybe a midnight snack would help ease your restless mind, you thought, as you quietly descended the stairs, the faint glow from the living room spilled onto the wooden floor signalling that you weren’t the only one awake tonight.

But, preoccupied with the sole quest to sleep, you brush it aside, entering the dimly lit kitchen and making a beeline for the fridge.

When you open the fridge you close your eyes with a sigh, the feeling of the cold breeze hitting your skin making you feel a thousand times better.

“Can’t sleep?” Sunghoon’s voice tickling the shell of your ear startles you, slightly jumping with a stifled scream. “What the hell?!” You whisper yell, “don’t sneak up on people like that!” You chide, clutching your heart in an attempt to regain your composure.

Sunghoon’s smirk grows into a smile, seemingly humoured with scaring you shitless and you roll your eyes at him. It only takes a few seconds to notice how close he is to you, swallowing thickly as your eyes scanned his appearance.

Nothing but a pair of sweatpants and white socks…great, he was shirtless.

“I don’t think I will sleep anytime soon, thanks to you.” You grumbled in response to his question, awarding yourself for not sparing another glance at his naked upper half.

“Oh come on princess, it wasn’t that bad.” You roll your eyes again before returning to the fridge, trying not to mull over the nickname he had just given you.

You could feel Sunghoon’s gaze remain fixed on you, studying you intently, until he eventually turned his attention to the fridge. You felt as though he could feel the heat radiating from your skin as he moved closer— the gentle breaths escaping his lips and teasing the hairs on your neck, causing you to shiver.

You quickly emerge from the little world of the icy machine, settling with the first thing you see to avoid being with him in such closeness—which is a simple vanilla bean yoghurt.

The tension in the air feels painfully thick and awkward, and you silently mutter prayers in hopes that he leaves the minute he finds what he’s looking for— but he doesn't.

Sunghoon emerges with an energy drink, the crisp sound of the can opening cutting through the white noise. He effortlessly leans against the marble counter, taking a slow deliberate sip of the drink, Adam's apple rising and falling as he swallows. As he pulls the can away, he casually wipes his bottom lip with his thumb, gaze locking onto you again.

Your yoghurt suddenly looks really interesting, reading the indecipherable scientific words in the ingredient list and immersing yourself in the brand's origin story, all in an effort to avoid the intense presence of the guy in front of you.

“We should talk about Thursday night.” Your heart sinks in dread. Your face begins to burn and you nervously clear your throat, “talk about what?”

“You know what Y/N.” He says, stepping closer to you. Sunghoon settles the sweaty can onto the counter, surveilling your surroundings before he lowers his voice, “So you’re just gonna pretend like you don’t remember?”

You finally glance at the guy, whose brown eyes are already boring into your soul, searching for any sort of answer in your stoic expression. You swallow thickly as you revisit Thursday night’s events for the umpteenth time and it all still feels like a dream.

The way Sunghoon kissed you in a way that left you breathless, hands gripping your waist so tight as though you’d slip away any second.

You clearly remembered it as though it were yesterday, the tingling sensation of his fingertips on your skin, the scent of his cologne filling the air, the lustrous look in his eyes when he pulled away, only to have you lean in for more.

You indeed did kiss your best friend's brother.

“Sunghoon.” You sigh, "Can't we just put it behind us? We weren't in the right state of mind,"

Sunghoon shook his head with a frustrated sigh, leaving his spot beside you and positioning himself in front of you. His hands gripped the edge of the counter on either side of you, effectively trapping you and preventing your escape.

“Y/N, both of us know that isn’t true.” Sunghoon pauses and your breath gets caught in your throat when his hand meets your cheek, his cold touch sending delightful shivers down your spine.

"Are you honestly telling me that didn't hold any meaning for you?" His voice was low, almost tinged with frustration.

You finally look away, unable to keep the nerve-wracking eye contact but Sunghoon makes a sound of disapproval, his hand swiftly moving to your chin and turning you to meet his face again.

He emits a hum, eyebrows raised and anticipating a response, and your mouth opens, but you struggle to articulate any kind of excuse.

You hate just how much you dwindle under Sunghoon’s presence, hoping that he can’t hear the hammering of your heart, along with the nervous breaths that slip past your lips whenever he looks at you.

“Well it did for me.”

“I liked it.” He shrugs, leaning in, dimples denting his cheeks with a knowing smirk when he catches the way your body reacts.

“And I’d give anything to feel those lips again” He admits desperately, voice below a whisper. You can only let out a shaky breath as Sunghoon’s thumb toys with the plump flesh of your bottom lip, slowly inching closer to him and finally closing the gap between you two.

Kissing Sunghoon feels just like the first time, an electrifying sensation coursing through your body, with your heart pounding so loudly that it could reverberate off the kitchen walls. It's like a breath of fresh air, a mixture of exhilaration, longing and relief washing over you.

You sigh, hands finding his face as he kisses back, desperately leaning into the kiss as he matches your fervour, hands slipping to your waist and pulling you closer as if there were still some distance to bridge between you. Your hands wind around his neck, fingers tangling in his dark hair, pulling his face closer as the passionate kisses gradually blend into a makeout session.

The sounds of kissing fill the room, the fridge’s hums doing nothing to drown the rather lewd sounds out. Sunghoon breaks away from you, his breathing uneven. His cheeks carry a faint blush, and his hair is a cute mess.

It takes everything in you not to gravitate back to the solace of his soft and pretty lips and you’re taken aback, nearly letting out a surprised yelp when his hands swiftly reach for the back of your thighs, effortlessly lifting you up and placing you onto the chilly surface of the marble countertop.

You’re now at eye-level and without warning, he is back on your lips, hands finding themselves under the thin material of your tank top and the cold metal of his rings against your flaming skin make your arch your back reflexively.

He pulls away, teeth softly tugging your bottom lip, with a breathy groan before he moves your jawline, sloppy open mouthed kisses travelling down your neck, sucking and nipping at the delicate skin, softly whimpering and sighing as the sensation blurred any rational thought that was left in your mind.

His hand slipped past your sternum, over your flimsy tank top and under it, brushing over your hot skin and on landing your breast, giving the flesh a soft squeeze.

Sunghoon’s lips follow suit, lips gliding over your collarbone before lifting your shirt up and attaching his lips to your nipple without warning, soft moans filling the quiet room as his tongue swipes over the erect bud.

Your fingers weaved in his soft hair, tugging on it as he moved to the other, kissing, nipping and sucking, the feeling snowballing the ache between your legs.

He finally pulled away with a ‘pop’, glancing back at your clouded state, eyebrows furrowed and bottom lip between your teeth.

“You’re so, so fucking beautiful.” Sunghoon groans, gently grabbing your face, kissing you messily. His hands glide to your hips, lips moving sloppily and hungrily against yours.

His pulls you closer to his body, legs hooked around his waist and that’s when you feel it, something hard poking the inside of your inner thigh and when you pull yourself closer, it perfectly hits your aching cunt, a dizzying wave of pleasure coursing through you, your moans being swallowed by mouth— and you can tell you’re not the only one who feels this way when you hear Sunghoon’s lewd groans.

You can't help but subconsciously roll your hips against him, grabbing at his waist and looking for some kind of friction– chasing the same feeling of pleasure that you felt before. You shamelessly moan at the lovely feeling of his clothed dick hitting you in the right spot, only making you more impatient and needy.

Sunghoon’s low moans make your stomach flip, and you want to hear more of them but he stops—pulling away from your lips and gripping your waist so tightly you're sure it would leave a bruise.

“If you keep doing that, I’ll have to fuck you on the counter.” He warns, but you can’t take it seriously, not when his voice is so breathy and raspy.

“Then do it.” You whine, begging the man to throw you onto the counter like a rag doll and fuck you into oblivion.

But he only shakes his head, hands cupping your flushed cheeks, “I still want to make you feel good.” Sunghoon presses a soft kiss on your swollen lips.

His fingers tug the waistband of your shorts, and you lift yourself up as he swiftly removes them— the warmth of your skin meeting the contrasting marble. “As much as I’d love to hear your pretty moans, try to be quiet, alright?” You nod quickly, impatient and desperate for him to just touch you already.

You suck in your stomach with a quiet gasp when his fingers trail across the smooth skin of your thighs, “So soft…” He mumbled against your lips, hands sliding to the inside of your thighs, higher…higher, until his fingers find their way to your underwear toying with its lacy hem, before reaching the place where you need him most.

You inhale sharply, almost failing to hold back a moan when he finally touches your clothed clit, fingers rubbing over the wet fabric. You’re almost embarrassed by how quickly you lean into his touch, inaudibly yearning for more.

“Fuck Hoon.” You breathe out, hands covering your mouth, muffling your needy moans as he traced over the wet spot in circular motions, whimpering every time his thumb

“You’re so wet.” Sunghoon hisses, bottom lip between his teeth as he stares at you, eyes dark and pupils slightly blown.

“Shit, is this all for me?” Sunghoon's velvety whispers against your lips seem so far away as your eyes flutter shut, “Sunghoon, please.” You manage to whimper out, hands meeting his naked chest.

“Please what?” He hums, feigning obliviousness and you groan, feeling your pride slowly wither away. “I…I need you.” You whined. “So bad.”

“Yeah?” Sunghoon coaxed and you nodded desperately, a smirk creeping onto his lips that you wished you could wipe off— if it wasn’t for the pent up sexual frustration you felt and its fate lying in his hands…literally.

He wasted no time meeting your pleas, dragging the fabric to the side as fingers slid against your slick glistening folds, hand flying to your mouth and head falling back at the newfound pleasure coursing through you.

Your other hand gripped his shoulders, nails digging into the skin of his back and earning a hiss from Sunghoon’s lips. His fingers easily slip into your hole, your arousal more than enough to let his fingers move with his ease— and you feel like you’re seeing stars.

“Fuck” A choked moan slips past your lips with a gasp, hand falling limp– overwhelmed with pleasure. “You like that baby?” Sunghoon coos, and you only hum in content, breaths coming in hitches as Sunghoon worked his fingers inside of you, pumping in and out at a satisfying and rhythmic pace.

Holding in your moans was getting harder and he could tell, watching your face contort in frustration and both pleasure, surprised your lips hadn’t started bleeding from biting too hard.

“...feels so good” You manage to let out, half lidded eyes meeting the man before you, practically enamoured by your presence. “I d-don’t think I can...fuck” You choked out. “Come on baby, I know you can take it.” Sunghoon’s words almost send you over the edge. Your head lulls forwards, mouth falling agape as strings of curses spill out of your lips.

As though he wanted to taunt you, you felt his thumb press onto your swollen clit, letting out a shocked and rather loud moan into the air. “Sunghoon-” You moaned, lips pursed together as you tried to compose yourself, but you were already falling apart.

The obscene noises of your drenched cunt and your choked moans and whimpers fill the kitchen, feeling your face grow warm. You hide your face in the crook of his neck and you hear Sunghoon chuckle, leaning back and lifting your head with fingers holding your face, “Come on baby, I wanna see your beautiful face when I make you come.”

Sunghoon could feel your legs beginning to tremble, as your walls fluttered around his fingers, chest heaving and soft moans becoming just a pitch higher.

His fingers quicken its pace, curving at an angle that seems to send you over the moon, failing to hold back your moans as he moves faster.

Afraid of another slip up, Sunghoon lips meet yours, swallowing your broken moans that can’t be helped as you near your high. An aching intense feeling begins to brew at the pit of your abdomen, driving your nails down the skin of his chest undoubtedly leaving a mark.

You cry his name out, followed by a mutter of profanities as you finally come around his fingers. “So beautiful.” He whispers, hand meeting your face as his thumb brushes the tears coating your lashes. He presses a gentle kiss on your parted lips— still a bit lightheaded to return it, slowly coming down from your high.

Sunghoon’s fingers finally slip out, a broken mewl leaving your lips at the lost feeling. He takes the liberty of cleaning his fingers with his tongue, heat rushing to your face as hums at the taste of you.

“What?” Sunghoon’s shrugs, “You taste good.” He smirks, hands finding the mess of your hair and pulling you into his lips, the kiss softer and more saccharine than the ones before.

You can still feel something poking your leg and your eyes flicker down to Sunghoon’s sweatpants, but before you can say anything, you hear the sound of a door click open upstairs and you and Sunghoon both exchange a look of alarm and horror.

The sound of Sooah’s voice sends you two in a frenzy, Sunghoon helping you slide off the counter as you pull down your shirt and scramble for your shorts.

“Y/N?” She calls out, feet pattering against the wooden stairs, as she descends to the first floor.

You both grab your long forgotten midnight snacks, settling yourself on a chair across from Sunghoon while he stands behind the counter…rightfully so.

When Sooah enters the kitchen, she thankfully doesn’t speculate anything, you two are both glued to your phones, scrolling on some sort of social media platform.

“Sooah, hey!”

“Hey…I was wondering where you went.” She smiled at you before her eyes flickered to her brother, exchanging their usual sibling formalities by grimacing at each other.

“I just came down for a snack, that's all.” You smiled, trying to conceal the mild shakiness of your voice.

Instead she moves closer to you, hands brushing your stray hairs into place, “Okay, well…I’ll see you upstairs.” And with that she leaves the kitchen.

Both of you let out sighs of relief, glancing at one another. Your face feels hot again, and you rise to your feet, a slight tremble in your thighs.

“I should…probably head back too.” You sigh, nodding your head upstairs.

“Oh! Yeah, right.”

The ceiling light highlights the rosy hue flushed on Sunghoon’s cheeks, his messy hair and plump lips, flashing you one of his pretty smiles, “I’ll see you later princess.”

As you leave the kitchen, Sunghoon fights the urge to pull you in for just one more kiss. His eyes linger until you disappear from view, and with a soft sigh, he runs his hands through his dark hair.

Now how was he going to fix his hard-on ?

[aeyumicore]

your fragrance

━ .ᐟ✧ PAIRING: rafayel x female reader (afab)

━ ✧.˖ GENRE: smut, porn with plot, porn with feelings

━ .ᐟ✧ WORD COUNT: 10.4k (how?????)

━ ✧.˖ WARNINGS: mdni, explicit sexual content, switch!raf (like he’s both sub and dom in this, if you don’t like that then this may not be for you), knee humping, standing sex, against the wall sex, sorta rough sex, references to rafayel’s lore (no more than what’s talked about the actual memory), dry humping, slightly aphrodisiac sex, dub con if you squint really really really hard, ejaculating in pants, panty ripping, pheromone kink, lots of teasing (calling raf a cat/kitty), cum play? kinda, nipple teasing, slight use of y/n, reader is mc, second person pov

━ .ᐟ✧ LINKS: video | ao3

━ ✧.˖ A/N: the raf fic is here!! based off the 5* rafayel memory ‘your fragrance.’ the build up is realllllllly long on this one since i wanted to stay as true to the memory as possible. you can def just skip to the smut if you’d like!

i struggled to write raf a lot but enjoyed it so much like he’s so fun to write. i’m def a sub girly so i love writing dom partners, thankfully i hc raf as a switch. if you do not like fics where raf is a switch, then this may not be for you! 

i can’t believe this fic ended up being 10k words too, i was thinking it would be a quick lil smut lol. i don’t even know how my zayne fic ended up being my shortest fic. enjoy my loves!

also this is dedicated to my bestie who is actually rafayel’s number one slut. follow her on x @/myusuchaa for so much good raf and other purple haired boy content. she is the master of rafayel lore, truly his wifey. a queen to us all.

THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL NEVER POST MY FICS ON OTHER TUMBLR BLOGS. I WILL ONLY POST ON THIS ACCOUNT AND ON AO3.

✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖ nsfw | minors dni | 18+ only | minors dni | nsfw ✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖

You let out an exasperated sigh as your foot taps irritably against the protective painting tarp Rafayel always has laid out on the ground of his makeshift art studio, stray paint brushes strewn about. Impatiently, you waited for Rafayel to finish changing on the couch behind you, careful not to peek.  

Somehow, being Rafayel’s bodyguard also made you his keeper. And Rafayel was not easy to keep. Always dragging you with him on odd trips even if you had work, pestering you at all hours of the day and night, disappearing and unable to be contacted for days on end. This particular time it was the latter; Rafayel had gone mia three days before his important collab launch party with a high end perfume brand. Now, on the night of the party, Rafayel was still unable to be reached. 

Thomas had called you, in a sheer panic, as he always did when he needed help wrangling Rafayel. He knew you were the only one in this world that could level with Rafayel. And he’d never told you this before, but you were also the only one who could bend Rafayel’s unbreakable stubbornness; a perfect match for the purple-haired obstinate artist. And thus, Thomas had personally designated you as Rafayel’s keeper.  

And so, you found yourself at Rafayel’s massive house, in the most extravagant evening dress you owned, hauling him off to his own damn party. 

His annoyingly alluring voice cuts into the silence of the studio, "You can turn around now and give me a hand with something else.” You snap around to be met with the sight of Rafayel, irritatingly and devilishly handsome in his expensive white dress shirt and designer cardigan, leaning lazily against the sofa with the tie you’d previously used to tie his hands with, woven in between his fingers. He grins and holds it up to you expectantly, "Put this on for me.”

"Don’t you have hands?” You snap, but your feet have a mind of their own, and you’re already approaching him on the sofa.  

"My hands are numb from being tied up by you for so long.” You roll your eyes, knowing he’s being dramatic. While he waits deceptively patiently for you to give in, he leisurely takes a wristwatch out of his pocket to put on, as if he’s got all the time in the world. "Clock’s ticking, keep it up and we’ll be late at this rate.”

You gape at him. The sheer audacity of this man, as if you’re the reason he’d be late. He only smirks at you, and it just infuriates you all the more. How he could so easily annoy the hell out of you and look so beautiful doing it. But you keep your mouth shut, and exasperatedly lean down to put on his tie for him, doing your best not to strangle him with it. It feels strangely intimate, and the brief reprieve finally gives you an opportunity to speak to him. 

"Thomas said you have to be present for all parts of the event. There will be reporters at the entrance taking photos, and…” you rattle off, before you realize Rafayel is being uncharacteristically silent, "Are you even listening?” 

You look up from the tie in your fingers to glance at Rafayel’s face. He doesn’t look the least bit interested in your words, instead his eyes are fixated on your wrist. You tap his chest to get his attention but he remains still, eyes still on your hands atop his collarbones. You curiously wave your hand in front of his face, hoping to snap him out of his trance. Fortunately you do, but unfortunately Rafayel grabs your wrist suddenly and urgently. 

“...what’s the matter?” The bewilderment is unmistakable in your voice. You’re used to Rafayel’s erratic and quirky behavior, but this was alarming, even to you.

Finally his gaze breaks away from your wrist and he speaks, "I heard you talking about the event…” but just as quickly as you’d diverted his attention, it's back on your wrist. His voice is unusually clouded, deeper than usual. His eyes are back on your wrist that’s enclosed in his fingers, as a strange expression crosses his face. It almost feels as if he’s trying to hold himself back, but you’re unsure from what. 

"Your hand…” he trails off, inexplicable emotions caught in his hoarse voice. He suddenly tugs you towards him by your wrist, and you stumble forward.  

"Rafayel?! Wait!” As you fall forward, your feet run out of space and hit the bottom of the sofa, causing you to tumble on top of him. He catches you easily, sitting you on top of his lap while he brings your captured wrist right up to the side of his face. The awkward position forces you to settle your legs on either side of his thighs, straddling him against the designer couch. The half knotted tie comes undone and you’re left clutching the smooth material in your hands. If it weren’t for the compromising position you found you and Rafayel in, you'd be slightly disappointed at seeing your hard work unraveled.  

The grip on your wrist tightens impossibly, almost possessively, "Hold still.” His command is not totally unusual; Rafayel is always demanding things of you, his precious bodyguard. But his voice comes out in a strange and sensual husk, leaving you confused, nervous, and weirdly burning. His silky smooth dress pants shuffle under you, and you’re reminded of the expensive clothes you’re pressed up against, likely worth more than a month of your hunter salary.  

"Your suit! It’ll get wrinkled.” 

"I don’t care…let me smell this…” he trails off, his voice sounding impossibly far away. You can feel the tickle of his inhale against your wrist and it makes you shiver, goosebumps forming under his touch. 

"What is that?” He asks, mostly to himself, lost in his own little world, "It smells good. And smells familiar…” 

It wasn’t at all uncommon for Rafayel to be mysterious and even enigmatic, but this was a whole other level of confusion for you, "What…what’s wrong? Did something happen?”  

His behavior is starting to worry you. He’s unusually breathless, and you can see a faint sheen of sweat on his forehead. The last thing you needed was him getting sick! You could already hear his needy whines in your head at the mere thought. Demanding to be taken care of and waited on. You almost want to smile at the thought of it; you act constantly annoyed with Rafayel but deep down you know you can’t live without his antics. 

 "No, I'm fine. Very well, in fact,” but despite his words, Rafayel sounds anything but. His voice, normally a bright and charming, albeit annoying, timbre, is now a hoarse and needy rasp. His ticklish touch on the inside of your wrist reminds you of where you got the perfume that he was so intoxicated by. 

"Come to think of it...I tried an unreleased fragrance in the back office of the exhibition hall. It was made with special ingredients,” you scratch your chin with your free hand, trying your best to recall the name of it.  

"Perfume? You spritzed the perfume sample on your wrist?” 

You glance at him, concern and confusion written all over your face. Isn’t that what you do with perfumes? Rafayel shifts his gaze to your eyes, but his breath remains on the inside of your wrist. It’s deafeningly silent and you realize the scent of the perfume gradually grows stronger as your body temperature rises at the proximity of your body to Rafayel’s. You’re suddenly reminded of the fact that you’re sitting on his lap, and his face is so very close to your own.  

He’s still lost in his own thoughts as he murmurs, more to himself than you, "It’s a bit bitter like fermented plants…but very fragrant.” 

"It could be a mixture of artificial chemical stuff. Now, unhand me please,” you’re desperate to detach yourself from him, unsure if you can trust your body when it’s pressed so readily upon Rafayel’s own hard and sturdy stature. 

"No.”  

Your jaw drops at his audacity. But before you can berate him, he’s reaching his free hand to undo the buttons of his collar, as if the clothing is restricting him and making it hard to breath. His purple eyes are glazed over, and a beautiful faint blush paints his cheeks. His exposed collar and chest have you biting back your words, completely losing your train of thought. You squirm at the sight, but Rafayel’s hand on your thighs grip you in place, not letting you move a single inch. 

"I could’ve sworn I've smelled this fragrance before,” he presses your hand against his cheek as he continues to slowly inhale the scent by the mouthful. It wouldn’t be completely out of the question, the unreleased scent had been developed for his artworks for the collaboration, so it’s very likely he could’ve sampled it during production. 

"We can worry about it later. Let’s go. Everyone is waiting” you urge, feeling yourself blush as he shifts slightly under you, brushing against your sensitive inner thighs. You pull your hand away from his cheek, only for Rafayel to yank it back, like a child unwilling to share his favorite toy.

"Let me smell it again,” his demand is meant to be gentle, but comes out rough and urgent. You sigh, letting him melt into your hand again. It’s almost endearing; you quite like being so intimate with Rafayel. 

"You know, for someone who hates cats, you sure are acting like one,” you tease, "A kitty that found some catnip to be exact. 

The mere mention of cats is usually enough to set Rafayel off, pouting like a little baby that’s been teased. But instead, he just distractedly responds, "So then are you a cat? I am not a cat. And also, you’re not allowed to say that. I just couldn’t resist…” 

You roll your eyes but can’t help but grin at his adorableness, tempted to just give in to his touch, savoring every moment you possibly can before the bubble bursts.

 "What is this weird perfume…” he’s talking to himself again, inspecting your hand carefully. His jumbled thoughts have you worried for him again. Although Rafayel did often have energy that bordered on adhd, this was much more intense than that. 

"Are you alright?” You repeat, softly. He doesn’t respond, but leans his cheek into your touch, his lips turning so they’re practically kissing your palm. Like this, he inhales the scent with his parted lips. His adam's apple bobs as he gulps, almost feverishly. His hand reaches to further loosen his collared shirt, pulling it open to let the cool air soothe his burning skin.  

"It must be an allergic reaction. This isn’t perfume. How dare they use such underhanded methods to trap me…” his words both confuse and scare you. You’re growing increasingly worried about his flushed and sweaty complexion, his collarbones shining under the faint glow of the city lights through the massive windows. His words fill you with a terror you do not understand.

Rafayel holds the area between the bridge of his nose and his forehead, like his head is pounding, before returning to grip the collar of his dress shirt. His hand that holds yours is shaky as he rocks slowly underneath you, inhaling as much of the perfume as he can. His lap brushes against yours and your brain short circuits at the feeling of him pressed against you. 

"H-huh?” Is the only thing you’re capable of getting out.

"Who gave you the perfume? Who sent it?” His questions are increasingly alarming you, but you do your best to keep calm. You can tell he’s nervous as well, and the sight makes your chest squeeze. Wanting to comfort him, you cup his cheek in your palm and he leans into the touch so contentedly and groaning in satisfaction. Truly like a cat.

You blushed despite yourself. It was so difficult to not be aroused in this compromising position. You’d long since had a crush on Rafayel, always craving his silly antics and theatrics. Missing him intensely when he’d disappear for days at a time. 

"No one. Um, why do you look like you’re drunk?” You try to deflect from the burning between your thighs, hoping he can’t notice how hot and bothered you’ve become. 

"I’m not drunk. I just don’t like the scent,” he pouts, but nuzzles your hand against his cheek like a cat getting cheek scratches. He turns his lips back into your palm, opening his mouth until you can feel his teeth graze your skin. He groans as he continues to inhale the scent, making you bite back a moan of your own at his gentle nibbles. 

"Rafayel…you…” but you find yourself at a loss for words as he continues to breathe in your scent like it's the oxygen he needs to survive. Your own breaths start to come out in shallow pants, and you squirm in his lap. Rafayel moans softly into your palm, biting down gently to get you to stop. 

"Are you trying to run away again?” He asks, almost painfully, his eyes piercing into yours, so intense and searching. The glassy look in them reminds you of how much you’re worried about his current well being.

"Rafayel, you don’t look so good. Shouldnt you go to the doctor?” You use the hand Rafayel isn’t gripping to take his face between your free fingers and inspect his beautiful and flushed features.  

Rafayel’s breath hitches at your touch, goose flesh littering the skin where your touch singes, "I’m not going anywhere.” And though he doesn’t say it, you can feel what’s left unsaid.

And neither are you.

But he continues, dazed, "You’re gonna lock me up again…you’re with them. I just know it. Don’t think I'm unaware of what you’re about to do.” He has both your wrists in his hands now, gripping them on either side of his neck. "Y/n, I won’t fall for it again. Not this time.”

Though his words scare the shit out of you, you’re unable to concentrate on anything but his eyes that are trained on your neck, where your pulse thrums erratically in anticipation. You’re suddenly hyper aware that your heart is beating so fast you can hardly hear him anymore, despite his face being mere inches from yours. Your breath is close enough to mingle with his. It seems he notices too, because he inhales deeply and throws his head back, gasping.

It's then you realize it's not just the scent of the perfume that's setting Rafayel off, but your own scent mingled with it. 

"Rafayel, snap out of it!” You beg. But Rafayel can’t seem to hear you as his cold hand grips the side of your neck, where you’d also dabbed the perfume along. Your breath catches in your throat at the icy touch, unsure of what to do. 

Rafayel senses your hesitation, "Don’t worry. I’m not gonna do anything to you.” His voice is a throaty groan, and you’re honestly unsure if that’s even what you want. His body is almost on top of yours now, his breath deafening in your ear. And all you can think about is how you’d wish he’d press into you harder, until you’re suffocating, only able to breathe him in. 

But you go with your better judgment, pushing him gently, putting some distance between the two of you. He glances up from your neck, eyes unfocused, and says nothing. He finds himself staring at your lips that are parted slightly to let out the short pants of breath you’re wheezing out. He leans in slowly so he can breathe in as much of you as he possibly can, just nearly closing the proximity between your lips.  

Suddenly, your phone buzzes, snapping you out of your little bubble with Rafayel, "Its Thomas! He probably wants to remind us of the time. Let's head out!” You shove your phone until Rafayel’s hands, forcing him to take Thomas’s call for you.  

While he’s distracted, you slip out from beneath him and bolt to the nearest bathroom. As you move your legs, you’re made acutely aware of the slick that has formed in your panties. But you focus first on furiously washing off the scent from your wrists and neck. As you scrub, you glance up at the mirror in front of you. You swear at the site of yourself, unbelievably disheveled and undeniably aroused.  

As you continue to adamantly scrub, you can faintly make out Rafayel on the phone with Thomas, just outside. 

"No, we’re not going to make it. I need to take care of something urgent. Don’t call again please, bye.” When you turn off the faucet, you go to lean against the wall adjacent to the sink, trying to steady yourself and collect your thoughts. You turn around and gently rest your forehead against the wall, sighing into the cool surface against your burning skin, willing the arousal between your legs to go away. You try to remind yourself of poor Thomas all alone at the exhibition right now. Your guilt is short lived as you hear the patter of Rafayel’s feet approaching the bathroom. 

"Where are you going?” Rafayel’s words are right behind you, and his hand presses against the bathroom wall that your forehead rests on. You whip around and find yourself trapped between Rafayel’s hard body and the solid wall behind you. You back up instinctively, but find yourself hitting the cold surface before you even take a single step back. 

"Gotcha,” Rafayel smirks softly, and you tremble at his proximity to you. His other hand grips a towel bar to your left, while his other hand leans against the wall to your right, so you’re utterly trapped against him. He’s so close, close enough that you can feel his rapid breaths fanning across your parted lips. As Rafayel’s eyes roam all over you, from your lips to your heaving chest, you feel very much like a lamb caught in a lion’s den. Except you don’t want to escape. 

"Rafayel…” you murmur using both your hands to gently push against his chest, unintentionally brushing against the exposed skin below his collar, under his unbuttoned dress shirt. You’re hoping he’ll have mercy and release you, afraid that the palpable sexual tension in the air would cloud your, and Rafayel’s, judgment.  

He shivers as your wet hands brush against his chest, knuckles turning white as they grip the towel bar next to you. His breath comes out in shallow pants, chest heaving up and down, with a light sheen of sweat painting his pale skin. The sight snaps you out of the moment, reminding you that Rafayel seems like he might have a fever. 

"Let’s go to the hospital...I’m worried about you,” your hands shift to grip his open shirt, bringing the fabric together to cover him up. Rafayel’s hand releases the towel bar to take both of your hands into his, trapping them against his chest.  

"What will it take for you to believe that I'm okay? I’m exactly where I want to be,” his gruff voice invades all your senses while his eyes burn holes through your own. He presses himself further into you, until his forearm is resting against the wall above you, only your joined hands pressed against his chest separating the two of you. He leans down, his face now impossibly close to yours, and for a second you find yourself lost in his purple and blue cosmic eyes.  

You take a deep breath, trying to ground yourself to reality, and remind yourself that Rafayel’s actions are only fueled by the strange effects the perfume has on him. He’s not in his right mind, and you need to think for him.  

You whisper, craning your neck up to look into his eyes, "You’re not yourself right now. Let me help you, I can take you to the doctor.”  

Rafayel leans down, resting his chin in the crook of your neck. He breathes you in, the smell of the perfume, still potent despite the scrubbing, mixed with your pheromones invading his very being. Slowly, almost like it pains him to do so, he lifts his head away from you. He releases your hands and uses that same hand that gripped them to lift your chin towards him. 

"Do you know the only thing you could do that would help me?” His hooded eyes lock yours in. His voice is the soft purr you know and love, slightly tinged with a rough and carnal desire that shakes you to your core. 

"Name it. I’ll do it for you.“ part of you knows that Rafayel isn’t going to ask you for anything regarding his health but you can’t stop the words from coming out of your mouth. You’re stepping into very dangerous territory and you can’t hold yourself back. 

"Kiss me,” his voice is low, but the assertive demand in it is undeniable. His command makes you shift in between his legs against the wall, becoming hyper aware of how deeply your bodies pressed into each other. You know you want to, you’ve wanted to for some time now. But you can’t shake the idea that the strange effects of the perfume are clouding Rafayel’s judgment and inhibitions. 

"R-Rafayel…” you stutter hesitantly. Trembling ever so slightly, you lean in to peck his flushed cheek. You watch, slightly amused, as Rafayel’s ears get even pinker.

"Why must you always make me beg?” He whines. His lips stick out in a signature Rafayel pout, one you’ve grown to absolutely adore, no matter how annoying it can be.  

You can’t help but laugh breathlessly, your chin still in his grip, "I don’t make you. You just love to beg.“ 

With your face still in his grip, he sighs dramatically, "Then I won’t beg anymore.” He brings his face to yours and captures your lips with his. He swallows your surprised squeak, which is quickly replaced by a throaty moan of longing and anticipation. Rafayel absolutely devours your noises, his lips so commanding against your own, bending them to his every will. They’re so soft, and you can’t help but think they fit so perfectly slotted against your own.  

Though you can taste the urgency on him, Rafayel takes his time with you, engraving the taste and feel of you in his mind forever. He takes it so tortuously and deliciously slow that you find yourself nibbling on his bottom lip, begging him to take you fully.  

You can just feel his maddening smirk against your lips. Instead of indulging you, Rafayel laces his practiced fingers under your dress’s skirt and onto your thighs. Only when you yelp in surprise does he finally slip his tongue into your mouth, always intentionally doing things to take you by surprise.  

The new sensation of your tongues on each other seems to have Rafayel equally feral, because you feel the unmistakable press of his erection into your stomach. Needing to do something with your hands, you trace the outlines of his chest muscles, enjoying the feel of them finally against your fingers. 

Rafayel’s hands venture to your back, expertly undoing the zipper of your dress, and then your bra. Gasping into his open mouth as his fingers return to the pebbling skin of your nipples. He gives a harsh flick to each, and your knees buckle against the sensitivity. You sink down against the wall, lips still attached to his for dear life, but Rafayel shifts so that he catches you with his knee instead. The mid length black dress your wore rides up and serves as a sheer layer of protection between your dampening panties and his knee. The friction of his leg against your crotch is unbearable, forcing you to throw your head back in pleasure. 

Your reaction only serves to spur Rafayel further, as he begins to knead his knee into your cunt slowly. Your body turns to mush at the ecstasy of his knee against your most sensitive region, but Rafayel holds you steady with his hands gripping you from the swell of your underboobs.  

Burying his face into the crook of your neck, he inhales again. Unbeknownst to you, he practically comes undone at the smell of you alone, "You say I'm always whining but look at you.”  

You whimper at his teasing words right against your ear, clutching the back of his neck for support as he continues to hump his knee into you.  

Suddenly, Rafayel stops, letting his knee still against your increasingly damp cunt. You can’t help but whine as you look up into his amused eyes. There’s mischief in them as he grins, "I’m getting tired. You’re going to have to do the work.” 

Despite your lust clouded brain, you can still think coherently enough to see through his brattiness. You narrow your eyes at him, "You’re tired? Let me take you to the hospital. I knew you weren’t feeling well.” You duck down to escape his arms that cage you in, but he only lowers them so that they now trap you at the waist instead. 

"You’re so mean to me Y/N,” he huffs, "Can’t you tell how vulnerable I am right now?” 

"Because of the perfume? Why does it affect you so much?” You murmur, squeezing his cheeks slightly.  

From Rafayel’s expression you can tell he’s unwilling to share too much information. And as annoying as that was, you trusted him wholeheartedly and knew better than to prod him too much. You would take what you could get. 

He rests his head on your shoulder, unwilling to meet your stare. Dusting your hair behind your ear, he sniffs you again, practically consuming the scent. You shiver at the slight breeze he creates at your exposed neck, "I-It’s not just the perfume. I’ve dealt with this scent before, and I've developed a tolerance to it.” 

You hold his neck against your shoulder, and gently knead his damp skin, letting him inhale the smell like his life depended on it, "Then why?”

Rafayel sighs, releasing the wall behind you but instead trapping you by wrapping his arms around your waist, pressing your bodies together. You sigh in satisfaction as his erection presses warmly against you again, your pussy craving his touch

Finally he speaks, but his voice is low and almost feels dangerous, "The marine plant the perfume is extracted from…on its own no longer does anything to me. But when it’s exposed to another scent that I cannot control myself around…the reaction it causes can be extremely potent.” 

The sensations of his body pressed tightly against yours makes your brain practically non-functional, so you’re not following his train of thought, so you ask dumbly, "Like the air?”

You can practically hear Rafayel rolling his eyes in his voice, "I need air to survive but do you think I can’t control myself at all times of the day?”

"Okay well I'm confused! And to be fair you do act like an idiot at all times of the day so how am I supposed to know?!” He ignores you, taking another lungfull of the scent on your skin into his body. This time, he growls through an intense shiver, his grip on your body tightening against him. As if the very smell of your skin drove him into a lust filled craze. 

And that’s when you realize what he meant.

"O-oh,” is all you can squeak out. Strangely enough, the idea that your scent is what is driving Rafayel to madness makes you leak further into the puddle that had formed in your panties. 

Rafayel groans again, one his fists releasing your body to gently pound into the wall behind you, "I-I can smell the arousal in your scent. It’s driving me insane.” 

Knowing he can smell the dampness between your thighs is both utterly embarrassing and completely erotic. Your heart lurches, wanting nothing but to take his discomfort away and make him feel good, "H-how can I help you?” 

Reluctantly, he removes his chin off your shoulder and turns to face you, gripping your biceps in his hands, almost to the point of pain, "Do you mean that? Because you can’t take it back.”

Shivering at the implications of his words, you nod slowly but more sure than ever, "Yes. Let me help you. I want to help you” 

"I-If you want to help me…” Rafayel’s voice is doubtful, like he’s scared you will deny him before he’s even gotten the chance to put his request out. Between your thighs, you feel his knee creeping its way back against your leaking cunt. The shock to your recovering clit causes you to clutch Rafayel’s firm shoulders and throw your head back with a breathy moan. Rafayel feeds off your pleasure, imagining what you would sound like when you were actually stuffed to the brim with him. 

"I want...I need to see you cum all over me,” Rafayels throaty plea makes you blush profusely. You almost want to smack him across the head for his shameless words, but the pout on his face reminds you that he’s absolutely serious that this will help him. That seeing you come undone for him will help take the edge off of the effect the perfume is having on him. 

"O-okay.” You gulp, nodding. The relief on his face is mixed with unbridled excitement that makes you squirm in anticipation of what's to come. Your feet shift, which causes you to grind down on his knee once more. Unable to withstand the unintentional teasing any further, you languidly moan and grind your leaking cunt against him to relieve some of the pulsing tension in your gut. 

Your broken groans grace Rafayel’s ears and you can actually see his eyes light up with pleasure while his ears burn an even deeper red. His breath is shaky as he dips his head back down, inhaling deeply and dusting a kiss to the pulse point on your neck. You shiver as he gently uses his tongue against your neck to soothe his raging desire. 

His reaction intrigues you, and you can’t help but want to tease him further, just a little. Peering at him through your eyelashes, you tip toe upwards so you can fan your bated breath across his face, letting him bask in your scent. Your tongue reaches out to gently swipe across his bottom lip, all the while you continue to pleasure yourself using his thigh. 

Rafayel is unable to contain his excitement as he watches you use his body for your own gratification. He pants desperately into the crook of your neck, high off your pheromones invading all his senses. Through both your whiny moans, you reach out to graze his cock through his dress pants. 

Rafayel hisses at the slightest contact, and his reaction ignites your confidence, provoking you further. You grip him through the silky smooth trousers, holding his throbbing erection in your hand, using your thumb to tease where you think his slit would be.

"Fuck–hah, be gentle please baby. M’sensitive,” he whines through gritted teeth. Your cunt clenches at his words, so teasing yet so endearing from Rafayel’s lips. You can feel the coil in your gut tightening as you continue to hump into Rafayel’s knee, using his body to chase your own high. Your black dress has ridden up, and now the only barrier between Rafayel’s knee and your sopping pussy is your equally soaked panties. You bite your lip and pray that Rafayel doesn’t notice the moist streaks that are starting to appear on his expensive pants. 

Through your hooded eyes, you can see Rafayel is enjoying this just as much, if not more, than you are. His eyes are thick with lust, and you can practically see the pulse of his neck pound against his delicate skin. He desperately gasps for air, or maybe he’s trying to breathe more of you in, as you near your earth shattering climax. 

"Touch yourself for me,” you purr at him, purposely jutting your bottom lip out in a pout. He obliges obediently, one hand quickly undoing his belt and slipping in to grab his unbelievably hard cock into his hands. 

As you watch his face contort in pleasure, you’re filled with the need to grab him into your own hands. "Can I touch you too?” You ask innocently with wide eyes, imagining just how smooth he will feel in your bare hands. 

Rafayel whines, still obediently pumping his cock in his hands, "Yes please, I need you to touch me.” At his plea, you let your hands find their way to his hands, still diligently pumping up and down. You wrap your smaller hand over his and mimic his motions. You gasp at the sheer size of him, your fingers just barely able to wrap around his girth. You can feel his veins throbbing against your fingers, begging you to continue further. The sheer amount of pre cum that already coats his fingers, and now yours, makes you wonder how delicious his spend would feel inside you instead.

"You’re so dam beautiful when you – fuck – use me like this. Dreamed about this for s’long,” he bites out, his hands finding your nipples once more. His long artist fingers tease you expertly, taking the peaks and rolling them gently.

His skilled hands and filthy words accelerate the intensity of your body’s peak quickly approaching you. His entire body is flushed and burns under the pumps of your fist, likely exacerbated by the effects of your scent. You respond to his endless stream of gasps and swears with breathless mewls of your own, whispering sweet words into his ear. 

"Let me cum Rafayel, please. Want to cum for you s’bad,” you beg against him, despite him having given you all the power already, knowing the begging will drive him insane. 

Rafayel drives his knee further into you as your core grinds into him like second nature. Your wrists vigorously pump his leaking cock, the thick heat of it feeling absolutely unreal against your palm. With your free hand you thread your fingers through his long soft hair, gripping gently. With a strangled groan Rafayel sinks his teeth into your neck, sucking at your pulse point as if he’s trying to devour your scent. Reluctantly he pulls away, throwing his head back in pure pleasure once more. 

 "F-fuck you drive me fucking crazy Y/N,” he pants, his thick length throbbing at your vigorous pumps along his shaft, almost as if his heart was beating inside it. The endless precum that falls from the tip coats your fingers, making a wet mess in Rafayel’s pants and your palm.

 He groans in disappointment when you release his erection, but his eyes are trained on your every movement. Overcome with your aching need for the gorgeous purple haired man before you, you bring your soaked fingers to your lips and slowly insert your index and middle finger into your parted mouth. You make a show of letting your tongue lap up his essence from your digits, never letting your eyes break contact with his as you devour him off your fingers. You can’t help but let out a muffled moan at the taste of him, sweeter than you could have ever fathomed, so deliciously Rafayel.

He nearly hyperventilates as you peer at him through the tears of pleasure that had beaded onto your eyelashes. "Look at you, hah, like a fucking masterpiece,” his thumb caresses your lip as his breathless praises make you squirm against his knee. The pre cum on his thumb swipes onto your tongue, and you itch to taste him again. You shift yourself so that you can take his thumb into your mouth, using your tongue to swipe all the slick off his slender fingers. 

Rafayel shivers at your touch, his mind a mush of lust and adoration as he watches your eyes roll back at the taste of his cum on your lips.  

"You’re going to be the death of me,” he murmurs, drunk off your pheromones invading his senses. You only smile at him and tip toe up to press your lips against his, wanting him to be able to taste himself on your tongue. He groans into your mouth at the odd sensation of being able to taste both himself and you all at once. Both his hands come up to thread in your hair, pulling you as deeply into him as he possibly can. You can feel his exposed chest against your own, his heart pounding rapidly against the swell of your dress covered breasts. The proximity lets him control every twitch of his quads against your cunt and you cry into his mouth at the stimulation. 

As you continue to fuck yourself onto his knee, you find yourself on the cusp of your orgasm, nearly blinded by the ecstasy of his leg wedged between your thighs and the salty taste of his slick on your tongue, "Raf-Rafayel, m’gonna cum.” 

Despite his furious blush, he smirks at you, as devilishly handsome as ever, "You gonna cum on my knee baby?” 

If it weren’t for the cloud of pleasure fogging your every nerve you’d surely have a snarky retort to throw back at him, but the need to have him is so great you can’t think of a single thing. Without even needing to enter you, Rafayel has rendered you utterly fucked out.  

So instead, you nod eagerly as your grinding against his knee becomes increasingly sloppy and erratic. Rafayel, entranced by the utterly fucked bliss in your eyes can’t stop himself from falling deeper into the abyss that is you: your voice, your eyes, your smell, your soul. He finds himself realizing that, though he’s seen millions of dollars in once in a lifetime artworks, even creating some of his own to add to this infinite world, the entire universe pales in comparison to you. The thick haze of emotions overwhelms him and he finds himself begging, once again. 

"P-please cum for me, my love. I need to see it,” Rafayel begs into your ear, his breath hot against your skin. The sensation makes your entire body shiver, causing your cunt to quiver further into his soaked knee. You’re not used to his voice, normally teasing and bratty voice, being this needy and adoring. It’s all enough to shove you viciously into your orgasm. You cling onto Rafayel as you release all over your panties and his leg, still languidly grinding into you.  

You can’t stop the screams that rip out of your mouth, pure ecstasy and satisfaction laced into your very breath. Rafayel holds you tightly against him, cooing into your ear, talking you through the waves of pleasure, as the excruciating ecstasy makes tears spill out of your eyes and onto your cheeks. 

Rafayel eyes widen in pure awe as he watches every shiver and twitch of your orgasm against his leg. He throws his head back, swearing as your scent becomes exponentially more potent. The smell of your spend is thick in the air, mixing with your pheromones and the perfume until it overloads every nerve in his body. The throbbing in his cock grows unbearable even with nothing touching it, physically twitching uncontrollably as he explodes inside his slacks. 

You cry out one last time when your thighs collapse from the intense climax, and Rafayel catches you by your waist, holding you steady against him and the wall behind you. The movements against your cunt slow as you ride out the final waves of your orgasm. With nothing separating his thigh from your cunt but your soaked panties, Rafayel can swear he feels your clit throb against him, the aftershocks of your climax wracking your body, just as the effects of his own orgasm sear through his. 

You’re a panting and sobbing mess against his flushed chest. Your legs are completely useless, supported solely by Rafayel’s strong and safe arms around your waist and his knee still wedged between you. He rests his face in the mess of your hair, breathing you into him. Unbeknownst to you, Rafayel is reeling from his own climax as he holds you protectively against him, almost for dear life.

Through the comfortable silence that has blanketed the bathroom, Rafayel’s voice vibrates on the top of your head, "You smell so fucking good baby.” 

You smile contentedly against Rafayel’s chest, your hands reaching up to smooth his curly hair away from his sweaty forehead, "Do you feel better?”

He smiles against your head, taking another deep breath of you into him. His voice is thick with satisfaction, but also unrelenting hunger, "Yes, but…” you wait for him to finish his thought, but there’s only silence.

"Rafayel?”

His reply comes out strangled and heavy against the top of your head, "I-I need more. I need you.”

You shift so you can look up at him. He doesn’t speak, but his hooded eyes tell you everything he’s thinking. Maybe it’s the post orgasm haze, but you find yourself being unable to deny Rafayel, wanting nothing more than to please him.

Getting on your toes so you can reach him, you let your bottom lip brush against his, relishing in the way his breath catches in his throat, and whisper, "Take me Rafayel.” 

 "Sh-shit,” he mumbles and presses his lips the rest of the short distance into yours. He tears into you with such torrid intensity that your knees buckle. As his palms hold your face in place, you cling onto his shoulders for support, the feeling of him enveloping you so overwhelmingly addicting. As your legs give out under the excruciating anticipation of what’s to come, you hook your knee into Rafayel’s waist. He grips your thigh, lifting it to hook around his back. His hand kneads into your bare skin as he reluctantly tears his lips from yours. 

"You can’t stand anymore?” His cocky grin contrasts the deep blush on his cheeks. Before you can snap back at him, he hoists you up against the wall. Instinctively you yelp, wrapping your other leg against his waist as he holds you securely against the cool tiles behind you and his solid abdomen.  

His lips simultaneously find yours again, locking deeply with an unrelenting passion that quite literally takes your breath away. As your breath becomes his, your thighs clench at the crushing intensity of his lips, wanting him deeper, harder. His tongue explores every inch of you, and you whimper into him at the pure need that was manifesting in your gut once more. 

Feverishly, Rafayel breaks away, like he cannot possibly wait another second. He doesn’t even break a sweat as he balances your squirming body with one hand, his other hand reaching down to pull off his belt that he’d undone earlier.

You want to ask Rafayel if it’d be more comfortable to go to his bed or even the studio sofa, but you’re rendered speechless as he pulls his cock out of his slacks. You’d felt it in your hands earlier, but seeing it in all its glory under the light was a whole different story. 

Rafayel definitely took pride in how he presented himself, his hair, his clothes; everything about him was pristine and curated just how he wanted others to see him. And his manhood was no different. He stood absolutely proud against his naval, his impressive length erect enough to touch just below his belly button, curving straight up. He’s unsurprisinglt well groomed, but with a dusting of pubic hair along his happy trail to his glorious cock. Like Rafayel himself, it was nothing short of art.

But then you noticed that he has trails of white cream smeared all over his delicious length, matted into the hair along his pelvis. Far too much to be just pre cum. 

"D-did you cum earlier?” You can’t stop the grin that forms on your face as you realize Rafayel had finished earlier just watching you pleasure yourself against him. Literally came undone at the mere thought and sight of your pleasure.

Rafayel averts his eyes, hiding under his tousled bangs, his face tomato red, "Sh-shut up!” His reaction only makes you laugh and want to provoke him more.

"You’re such a bad boy Rafayel, cumming without me touching you,” you coo, using one hand to scratch his hair soothingly, "Just an eager little kitty for me.”

Rafayel’s eyes narrow as his lips form his signature pouty grimace, "I am not a cat.”

You open your mouth to tease him more, but Rafayel pushes you harder into the wall so he can free one hand to rub his thumb against your lips. You yelp at the feel of the stone cold wall being pressed further into your burning skin. With his finger on your mouth, his eyebrow raise at you pointedly.  His eyes light up with an intense and burning warning, "I’m about to fucking ravage you. Are you sure you want to keep teasing me?”

His words shut you up instantly. You shake your head vehemently and obediently, your cunt aching at his promises, needing nothing more than to be filled with him.

"Good girl,” he murmurs, his hand moving off your lips to reach under your dress, hooking his finger into the waistband of your panties. You shiver at the feel of his palm on your waist, as he attempts to pull them off of you. But he quickly grows impatiently frustrated at the tangle of your bodies. 

"I'll buy you another pair, ‘kay?” You’re about to protest but Rafayel wastes absolutely no time, bunching the delicate material in his fist and tearing it off you. You gape as the sound of fabric ripping sounds in the air and watch the lace material fall to the ground. 

"R-Rafayel! I liked that pair!” You scold, hitting his shoulder in a mixture of disbelief but also arousal at his primal urge. You know you should be more upset but you find yourself just melting into a puddle at his unabashed behavior. I mean honestly you wore those in hopes that he might see them anyways.  

"I'll buy you as many as you want, if you let me rip them off of you,” he grins in feigned apologeticness. At your expression he continues, this time earnestly, "M’sorry, just can’t wait anymore.” And with those words, Rafayel sheaths himself into you. You yelp at the alarming stretch, his girth much more than you’re used to. Even with the thick slick of your combined orgasms, it’s slightly painful to accommodate him.

Simultaneously, Rafayel cries out huskily as he enters you, your grip down there absolutely strangling his erection. The finish of your first climax thickly coats his cock, but it’s just barely enough to offset the stretch from how thick he is. His strong arms hold you securely in place as his pelvis slowly begins thrusting up into you, pushing you up the wall at every stroke. 

The angle he has you in meant every single thrust hits your cervix, his cock unbelievably lengthy. The curvature causes every stroke to drag deliciously against your g spot which makes you cream uncontrollably at each thrust, a ring of white forming at the base of his cock that splashes into you with every vigorous stroke. Your clit rubs roughly against his pelvis, his coarse happy trail rubbing against it with every movement, stimulating your body beyond belief.

"Fuck you’re taking me so well baby,” Rafayel moans into your ear, swallowing another mouthful of your aroma. You whimper as you feel him getting unbelievably harder at your scent alone, his solid flesh brushing against every single corner of your gummy walls. His veins throb inside of you as he twitches in pleasure. "So fucking tight, all for me yeah?” 

"Raf, s’big. Feel s’good,” you slur, the haze of ecstasy starting to cloud your consciousness. His thrusts go harder, deeper, at your praises, and you cry out, unable to stop your thighs, and simultaneously your cunt, from tightening around him. 

A strangled moan leaves his lips at your movements, his damp forehead pressing against yours as one of his hands leave your thighs to grip the wall next to you. "Sh-shit are you always this tight or is this jus’ for me?”

Before you can respond, Rafayel is babbling huskily into your ear again, "Wish you could see yourself right now. You look so beautiful, so fucked out, all for me huh?” 

Your eyes squeeze shut at his filthy words, and you can’t help but clench down on him again. Your profuse arousal coats the hair along his pelvis, creating the most filthy and lewd noises as Rafayel continues to bounce you onto his cock, his stamina absolutely unreal. Your lips chant his name, over and over, your brain only filled with him. 

"Look at me Y/N, need to see you,” Rafayel begs into your neck, still absolutely inhaling your pheromones, getting harder at every intake, "Jesus you smell so fucking good.”

You force your eyes open, fighting the ecstasy from taking over completely. As he shifts to stare into your eyes, he gives you the most gorgeous Rafayel smile that threatens to short circuit your brain and stop your heart. There’s an overwhelming swirl of emotions in his purple-blue eyes: lust, mischief, adoration, respect, longing, and…so much love. 

It’s all enough to make you want to confess the feelings you yourself had forced deep down, trying desperately to forget them for the sake of your friendship and working relationship. Rafayel keeps staring into your eyes, straight into your soul, and you finally open your mouth to try and find the words, "I–”

But instead, he cuts you off, bending down so your lips brush against each other again, "I know.” With those words, he presses himself needily into your waiting mouth

Grateful that he doesn’t need you to say the words, you return his kiss with equal fervor, doing your best to convey all the things you had wanted to say.

The bruisingly passionate kiss pushes you towards the edge as Rafayel continues to bounce you ruthlessly onto his cock. You’re forced to pull away from his lips to let out a strangled cry of pleasure. Through the overwhelming ecstasy, Rafayel takes the opportunity to shove his hand in between your bodies, easily finding your clit. The stimulation forces you to scream out uncontrollably, your eyes and head rolling back into the wall. 

"Jesus look at how soaked you are Y/N,” he mumbles in awe, eyes glued to where your bodies connected, "Look, baby.”

At his urging, you force yourself to lift your head off the wall and glance down at his fervent ministrations. The sight you’re met is enough to make you finish all over him right then and there. 

The veins in Rafayel’s thick forearm bulge as he paws at your clit furiously, the slick glistening on his thick length and splatters as the force of his thrusts rattle you deliciously against the cold wall. As he pulls out of you entirely with each thrust, you can see the throb of each vein of his cock, aching to be thrust back inside you. 

"Raf-Rafayel,” you gasp out, "I–”

"I-I know baby, I can feel it. Squeezing the life out of me,” he groans, shifting your entire weight onto his right arm while his left forearm slams into the wall above your head, anchoring him and allowing him to fuck into you with a new mind numbing intensity. 

His chin digs into your shoulder as he hammers into you relentlessly, "Ffuuck baby, gonna make me cum all – shit – over you huh?”

The force of the orgasm that chases you is utterly blinding, and against your better judgment you plead with him, "P-please cum inside Raf, I want to feel you.”

You can feel his panting breath hitch by your ear, and he whispers, "Are you sure? Don’t tease me Y/N. Y-you can’t take it back. Please.”

"Won’t take it b-back,” you wail as his thrusts bruise your walls, the painful pleasure edging you closer and closer to your undoing. "Please Rafayel, need you inside me s’badly.”

At your begging, Rafayel goes absolutely insane. He slams you so vigorously against the wall that you can practically feel the entire house shake. Every throbbing thrust pushes against your more sensitive spots, bullying right into your cervix. His breath becomes increasingly erratic and he sinks his teeth into your neck to contain his throaty moans. 

The sudden sensation of his teeth against your pulse, so dangerously aggressive yet gently teasing, sends you barreling into your orgasm. "Cumming, cumming, m’cumming Raf,” you wail repeatedly, unable to form any other words as tears stream down your face and onto his ruined dress shirt. 

Your hand roughly tears at Rafayel’s hair as he continues to ravage both your clit and your aching hole, finally sending your body into the mind numbing explosion of your climax. Your cunt grips onto him for dear life, throbbing uncontrollably to the sloppy rhythm of his thrusts. You ride the endless waves of your orgasm, vision blurring as tears continue to spill from your eyes. 

"Raf, s’too much,” you whimper, fingers releasing his hair and reaching down to scratch at his back, trying to relieve any of the overwhelming pleasure that threatened to make you lose consciousness. You couldn’t bring yourself to care about how you were destroying Rafayel’s expensive shirt under your nails. Your legs tighten around his waist as he continues to pound you into the wall. You’re almost sure your body will be battered and bruise tomorrow, not that you’d complain. 

"M’sorry,” he pants, but only thrusts harder and faster, "Jus’ hold onto me love. M’so – ffuuck – so fucking close.” You nod obediently, still riding the last receeding waves of your own orgasm, pussy quivering around every ridge and vein on his shaft. 

"Jesus if you could feel how tight you’re squeezing me right now,” Rafayel grits through clenched teeth, "You want me to cum inside you that bad? That you’re gonna force it out of me?”

Your lids feel so heavy as the pleasure of your orgasm ebbs into exhausted satisfaction, and you murmur, "M’not doing anything Raf, you jus’ feel so good. So deep.”

At your praises, Rafayel lets out a strangled groan and comes undone inside of you. You cry out as the warmth of his spend fills you, soothing the ache from the ravaging your poor cunt just took. He shoots rope after rope of it into you, a never ending stream of him emptying inside of you.

Rafayel rests his forehead against yours, his forearm still using the wall above your head to support him. You both pant into each other as the quivering of your cunt squeezes every last drop of him inside you. He shivers at the feeling of your womanhood throbbing around his softening member, completely spent.

Rafayel does his best to keep himself, and you, upright. His arms shake slightly, the aftershocks of his own orgasm devastating every muscle in his body. You can feel his biceps trembling, you fight to keep your eyes open, "S’okay Raf I can stand.”

"Okay love,” he murmurs into your hair, taking in one last whiff of your scent, before pressing a gentle kiss onto your forehead. You whimper as he slips out of you, your sore hole still wanting nothing more to be filled by Rafayel. You do your best to ignore the thick streaks of your collective spend dripping down your legs. As you unhook your thighs and let your feet touch the floor, your body gives out.

Rafayel catches you before your knees can crash into the tiled bathroom floor. You don’t have to look at his face to know he’s smirking at you.

"Need me to carry you baby?”

As you hold yourself up clutching his arm, you narrow your eyes at him, "No. Shut up.”

Rafayel chuckles, the smile in his eyes glowing brightly at you, "Come on Y/N, let me take care of you.”

Your snappy refusal is cut off by your squeal as Rafayel scoops you into his arms, like a princess. You wince at the feeling of the smearing of dampness between your thighs as Rafayel hooks his arms under your thighs. You hadn't even noticed that he’d put his belt back on. 

"Always with the theatrics Rafayel,” you grin, unable to stop yourself from burying your face into his chest. He smiles in response as he carries you through his home. You breathe in Rafayel’s scent, an intoxicating blend of sea salt, cardamom, and arousal. 

"You love me.” 

You sigh to yourself, love him you absolutely did. But that was a conversation you two would need to have another day. 

Looking up, you find yourself in Rafayel’s room, his white curtains billowing as the night time breeze cascades through them. As Rafayel sets you down on his plush king sized bed, your phone rings from the inside of his pocket. You’d almost forgotten you’d given him your phone when Thomas had called earlier. 

The phone keeps ringing as Rafayel sits besides where you lay, attention focused solely on you. You pat his thigh, "Raf? Can you pick up my phone?”

Rafayel grimaces as he grabs your cell phone from his slack pockets. "It’s just Thomas,” he grumbles like a child, "I told him not to call again.”

He takes one look at your unamused expression and sighs in defeat, "Fine fine.” 

Rafayel picks up the phone, snapping, "What Thomas?” 

"Speaker phone,” you mouth at him, only able to hear Thomas’s erratic mumbles through the phone. He rolls his eyes, but puts the call on speaker, holding it up between you two.

"You guys better be half dead in a ditch or actually dead,” he threatens sulkily, "How could you guys not show up?”

"Didn’t I say not to call again?” Rafayel fires back, but his tone is teasing. You know Rafayel cares about Thomas a lot, even if he makes the agent’s life hell. 

"Thomas, I'm so sorry! I’ll make it up to you I swear,” you apologize, feeling horribly guilty. You could only imagine how many angry sponsors and reporters he had to deal with. 

As Rafayel holds the phone with one hand for you to speak into, he notices your black dress had ridden up to reveal glistening streaks pooling down your legs. He uses the index finger of his free hand to scoop up the spend that continues to drip down your thighs. Your breath hitches as he smirks at you, his hand creeping up further, into your inner thigh. 

"You owe me so many dinners,” Thomas grumbles, but you have a difficult time paying attention to the rest of his words as Rafayel’s hands venture further up, dangerously. You give him a warning look, but his fingers only trail up further to tease you, grazing against your bare slit. 

"Are you guys even listening to me?” Thomas demands through the phone, his tone is as pouty as Rafayel normally is.

"Y-yes, I'm sorry,” you try to keep your voice as steady as possible, "I'll uh, I'll get you take out tomorrow!” You swat at Rafayel’s lingering hands but he doesn’t budge. His ears are pink and you notice his breaths are coming out in short pants as he quietly climbs onto the bed at your feet. You do your best to keep your own moans from bursting uncontrollably out of your lips as his fingers relentlessly tease you.

"Yes, and I want boba too. With extra – wait. What are you guys doing?” Rafayel and your eyes snap to each other and then to the phone. You’re about to speak when Thomas’s shrill voice cuts in again.

"You guys better not be doing what I think you’re doing! I swear to g–”

“‘Kay gotta go bye bye Thomas love you!” Rafayel interrupts sheepishly, ending the call with his thumb. There’s a brief moment of disbelief and silence before you both burst out into laughter. 

You clutch your stomach, trying to catch your breath as the uncontrollable giggles keep coming. But the thought of Thomas makes you feel guilty again, "Rafayel maybe we can still make it to the party if we hurry. We can’t just leave Thomas –”

Rafayel shushes you with his finger, his hair falling into his eyes as he leans over you, "I just got an idea for a painting and I have to start right now.” 

You’re no stranger to Rafayel’s spontaneous bouts of inspiration. In the past, he’d literally drag you to the oceanside and not ten minutes into the excursion, he’d race home needing to get started on an idea he had right then and there. And sometimes he’d forget you at the beach.

"Right now? But we’re not in the studio,” you squirm as Rafayel leans closer to your face, shifting his body so that he’s kneeling at your feet, in between your legs. 

"Oh. I meant a different kind of painting. Maybe on your stomach,” your brows furrow in confusion at his words as he smirks mischievously at you. You squeak as he climbs to hover over you, his body pressed against your still sensitive areas. Your body heats up again as the feel of his hardening cock against you. 

His thumb presses against your bottom lip, the salty taste of him invading your senses once more, "Or maybe…on your beautiful face.”

The implications of his words finally hits you all at once, and your face burns like a wildfire. You hit his shoulder weakly and unconvincingly, already succumbing to the arousal pooling back in your thighs as you watch the desperate need return to his eyes. 

"R-Rafayel!” 

"Then again you’re already a piece of art,” he murmurs, his voice groggy with desire. He presses a kiss to your parted lips, then to your exposed collarbone, and then to your covered breasts, "But you know me. I like to take my time with my art.”  Oh you were utterly fucked.

© aeyumicore 2024.

.ᐟ✧ THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL ONLY POST ON THIS ACCOUNT AND AO3. i am not @/aeyumicores or @/aeyumiicore or any variations of my blog name.

✧.˖ i do not permit translations or reposts of my work on tumblr, ao3, or others. please do not reuse my blogpost headers, dividers, or layouts. these are original designs of my own.

[nanaslutt]

Lol I just keep thinking about perv!geto taking her on a proper date for once lmao

PervyRoomate!Geto x reader

note: i have a running series of perv!geto u can find here // but you can read this w/ out context :3

Contains: fem reader, sex toys, exhibitionism, sexual tension, teasing, possessive!Suguru, fingering, car shenanigans, humiliation, degradation, praise, an unhealthy amount of dirty talk, Suguru has a big dick, nipple play, panty stealing, talk of masturbation, belly bulge if you squint, creampie,

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

A knock was rapped on your wooden door, interrupting a very important part of the drama you were currently watching. "What?" You yelled from your bed, not taking your eyes off the messy breakup scene in front of you. Your door squeaked open to reveal a handsome Suguru, looking too dressed up at 3pm on a Friday. He wasn't adorned in anything particularly fancy, but you weren't really used to seeing him in anything other than grey joggers and some band t-shirt.

You gave him a quick one over, admiring the black slacks that fit his thighs too well, the white button-up shirt he had tucked into them, and a like-new looking belt that was half on, as his fingers made quick work to thread the prong through the belt hole. "What are you doing? I told you I was taking you out tonight." He said, raising his eyebrows. It's not that you looked bad, but you weren't exactly ready for five-star cuisine in your booty shorts and tank top. "Riiight.. are you ready to go? or?" You asked, looking around the room in confusion before your eyes landed on his.

When he finished looping the belt through the buckle, he crossed his arms and leaned against his doorframe, smirking at you. "Get that disgusting look off your face," you cringed at him, pushing your laptop aside as you pulled your body up to sit crisscross on your bed. "I'm not taking you to McDonalds baby." He laughed, confusing you even more. "Okayy.. so where are we going?" you asked. You fully expected him to name some sit-down diner that was one or two marks fancier than a Mcdonald's, but you weren't expecting him to name the most expensive and highly rated restaurant in town.

Your mouth fell agape as you stood watching the dark-haired man in the doorway laugh at you. "Don't take offense to this, but you're not exactly the most wealthy person I know." You said, still looking at him in disbelief. "If Gojo asked me out to this place, sure, that might sound a little more realis-" "Don't talk about that idiot taking you out in front of me." Geto interrupted, uncrossing his legs as he shoved his hands in his pockets and closed his eyes, giving you a smile that did little to cover up his animosity.

Ever since you and Geto had started fucking around pretty regularly, you have noticed a change in his demeanor whenever Gojo would hit on you. It wasn't like it was anything new, Gojo has been hitting on you for years, for as long as Geto has been bringing him around, you think. Before you and Suguru started hooking up, whenever Gojo would flirt with you he would brush the white-haired man off for the most part, maybe give him a scoff or incredulous look if his attempt at a pickup line was really that horrid on the ears.

Recently though, whenever Gojo tried to hit on you, or his touch would linger a little longer than it should, Geto was quick to intervene. Putting himself between the two of you physically, or butting into the conversation to shut down his attempts. Geto knew you weren't interested in Gojo in the slightest, but he couldn't help but feel that greed-eyed monster of jealousy bubble up inside him whenever you laughed a little too hard at his jokes, or in this case, brought him up in conversation unprovoked.

"Sorry~ Didnt realize he was such a sore subject for you.." You teased, "Unriquitted love, maybe?" He knew you were trying to push his buttons, but you weren't far off. Just not in the way you were thinking, because he sure as hell wasn't interested in Gojo like that either. He sighed, before gripping something in his pocket and pulling it out of his pants, keeping it concealed in his fist.

"Anyways, I don't even know what I would wear to this place!" You said exasperated, glancing over to rake your eyes through your closet to see if anything caught your eye. Without making a sound, Geto slipped out of the room and quickly returned with a dark red bag, tossing it into your lap and landing it perfectly between your crossed legs. You peeked inside the bag and saw some sort of black fabric, you crunched your eyebrows together, looking back up at him. "Wear that." He said, his smirk returning to his face.

Your lips dropped open slightly, a small gap being created between your lips. "Sugu.. If you robbed a bank you know I would never tell anyone.. right?" You said, all too seriously. The man burst out in laughter, "Fuck! I'm not as broke as you think!" He spoke through his laughter, holding his hand over his chest. "Just got a raise at work is all, couldn't think of a better way to spend my first fat check." He crossed his arms again, keeping the one fist balled up as he did so.

"Oh shit, congratulations Sugu! I'm actually not a great liar so I probably would've told someone about the whole robbing a bank thing." You said, clicking your tongue, "Sorry." He giggled at your words, rolling his eyes. "Oh, I know." He spoke, watching your face beam as you pulled out the beautiful black dress he bought you. "Oh yeah, bought just the thing to wear with that too." He smiled in faux innocence, unballing his fist he dangled a pair of skimpy, black lace panties in front of him.

They weren't just any panties though, you could see on the crotch of those panties that would be pressed against your cunt, a flat teardrop-shaped silicone vibrator adorned the fabric. Your jaw really dropped now as you stared at the piece in disbelief. He wasn't really expecting you to wear remote-controlled panties in the fanciest restaurant in town, right? "Pretty, huh?" His voice filled the room when you didn't react. "You never change, huh?" You sighed, holding your hand out in front of you as he tossed the panties over to where you sat.

A big part of you thought this was a horrible idea, knowing how sensitive you are, but another, less rational part of you couldn't help but get excited at the thought of Suguru having full control of getting you off with a little remote control in his pocket, while the two of you dined in the fanciest atmosphere you had yet to immerse yourself in. "Pervert." You said, looking up at him under your lashes as you stretched the panties between your fingers, admiring how well made they were.

Suguru giggled, walking over to the bed you sat on, his knees bumping into the mattress as he reached out and took the panties away from you. "Hey-" "Need some help putting them on?" He asked, twirling them around on his finger. You scoffed, "Suguru, why would I need help putting on a pair of panties, just-" You tried and failed to snatch them back from his hands as he yanked them out of your reach. "You sure?" He said, continuing to twirl them as he started to back out of the room with a mischievous grin on his face. You threw your hand up in the air in defeat, giving him a 'what the hell' look before he closed the door behind him on the way out.

"How am I supposed to wear them tonight if you just kidnapped them!!" You yelled through the door, hearing his footsteps descend further away from you. With a heavy sigh, you pushed yourself off of your comfortable mattress and began getting ready for the night ahead of you.

--

Smoothing out your dress in the mirror, you turned your body around and checked out your own ass in the mirror, and lord was it an ass to behold. It's like Suguru had taken your measurements in the middle of the night to make sure this dress absolutely fitted your figure in the most flattering way; honestly, you wouldn't be surprised if he did. You absolutely wouldn't be mad that's for sure. You had done up your hair and face and adorned your feet with the nicest pair of black heels you owned. You looked absolutely perfect to the unknowing eye.. the only thing missing? Your panties. The absence of something hugging you down there made you feel a little vulnerable, but otherwise, you felt perfect.

After a quick one-over to make sure everything was as it should be on your figure, you stepped out of your room, shutting off the lights and closing the door as you left. Your heels clicked on the wooden floor as you made your way into the living room, where Geto had splayed himself out on your shared couch. His big thighs spread wide on the cushions, his arms spread out behind him on the back of the couch. He looked edible; the way his pecs were pressed tightly against his shirt from how he was stretching his arms apart made you want to pounce on him and play with his massive chest; who was the pervert now?

Right when you finished checking the man out, he noticed your presence, tilting his head to the side, his eyes doubled in size, his eyebrows raising to make room for them. He let his head fall back on the couch, a grin spreading across his face as he raked his eyes over your body before his eyes settled on yours, giving you a whistle. "Yeah, I chose the right dress, you look fucking edible." He complimented, licking his bottom lip before he briefly took it into his mouth.

"Wait till you see my ass." You teased, placing your hand on your hip and tipping your head at him. "Oh yeah?" Geto raised an eyebrow challengingly. Tipping his chin down he stood from his spot on the couch, heavy steps walking over to where you stood in the entrance of the living room. He stuck his hand out to you, signaling for you to grab it. "Give me a spin baby," Geto whispered into the quiet room, the tv playing some unimportant show in the background as you placed your hand in his. He lifted your arm, slowly spinning you around, making sure to get a good look at your ass in the dress.

He whisted again, "Oh yeah~ fucking perfect." He said, spinning you back around to face him again as he released your hand and fished for something in his pocket. "Only missing one thing~" He said, raising his eyebrows at you knowingly. "Yeah, gimmie that shit, feels weird with nothing down there." You said, holding your hand out to him. "Nuh-uh," He said, tsking at you. You scrunched your eyebrows at him in annoyance. Though he didn't give you much time to pout as he dropped on one knee, opening up the leg holes of the panties for you to step in as his eyes watched your expression from the floor.

You felt your face heat up, this position was so intimate it flustered you. "H-huh?" was the only thing you could muster. "C'mon, we gotta get going if we wanna make out reservation on time." He cooed, nodding his head at you. "Do I just-" You started, raising your heel-clad foot from the floor as you poked it into the hole of the panties. "Mhm.. and here I thought you said you didn't need any help putting your panties on?" He teased, washing away some of your embarrassment as it was replaced with irritation.

You kept quiet, stepping into the other hole of the panties and letting him slide the material up your body teasingly. He rose from his position on the floor, standing in front of you in his entirety as he kept his eyes on his hands, where he was moving the cloth up your body. The dress was being bunched up to your mid-thigh, and would soon rest on your hips the higher he dragged the panties up. Once he saw your cunt come into view, the panties only centimeters from touching your throbbing clit, he gazed back up into your eyes, watching your reaction closely.

You swallowed whatever saliva was still in your day mouth, keeping your eyes on his. He watched your eyes flutter, your nose sucking in a breath as he pulled the panties up to your hips, the cold silicone being pressed against your cunt and creating a delicious friction between your legs. Smirking, Suguru slid your dress back down your thighs and smoothed it out before placing his hands on the small of your waist and caressing the skin there. You placed your hands on his chest, feeling yourself throb between your legs with the added pressure and the intensity in which he was staring at you.

"How's that feel?" He said, sliding his hands up and down the sides of your body before sliding his hands to your ass and gripping the fat there, simultaneously pressing your body closer to his, his knee sliding between yours and making the dress wrinkle at the bottom. "Feels good." You nod. Geto tilted his head down, looking between your lips and eyes as one of his hands left your waist to dig in his pockets, out of your view. "Yeah?" He said, licking his lips. "Let's just make sure everything is in working order before we go, yeah?" He whispered agaisnt your lips, neither of you daring to close the distance.

The tension was thick in the air when you nodded, the man in front of you mimicking your nod, whispering a quiet yeah. Your breath hitched in your throat, your legs wobbling slightly when you felt the soft vibration tickle against your clit. Geto's jaw dropped as he watched your reaction to the toy buzzing against your sensitive bud. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head before closing completely when he upped the intensity of the vibrations. "It hittin' the right spot?" He asked, leaning in to whisper against your neck when you tipped it back.

"You let him pull your body tighter against his own, his knee pressing against the toy against your cunt, increasing the feeling as you let your jaw drop, moaning quietly into the air as he left soft, barely-there kisses against your throat. "Y-yes, it's on the right spot." You confirmed. Your legs felt like jello at the stimulation combined with how palpable the tension filling the room was. "Vibrating on 'ur little clit?" You knew he knew how much his voice turned you on, and fuck was it turning you on. "Yes," you whimpered breathily, squeezing your thighs around his larger one between your legs.

"Bet it feels so good." He said, biting your neck gently before pulling away to look at your face, expression painted with lust. You just gave him a nod, gasping as you started to rock yourself on his thigh. "Oh~ Horny girll~" He teased, pulling his body back to watch you hump slowly along his toned thigh. Just when you were falling into a rhythm, the buzzing stopped. When you cracked your eyes open to scold him, you were met with a cocky-looking Geto, smiling mischievously at you. You sighed, realizing how the rest of the night was going to go.

"Oh my, look at the time!" He said dramatically, holding the expensive watch Gojo got him for his most recent birthday out in front of him. "There are no batteries in that watch, Suguru." You call him out, deadpanning. "I'm all-knowing, I don't need a watch to tell me we're going to be late if we don't leave now." He said, patting your ass before he pulled away, you instantly missed the pressure his knee brought between your thighs.

--

The ride to the restaurant was short but dreadful. He had kept his warm hand on your thigh the entire time, rubbing his thumb teasingly against the inside of your leg, slowly rubbing higher and higher, making you think he was going to touch you, but he ultimately pulled away. You kept waiting to feel the vibration against your clit, but it never came. You just throbbed pathetically with no relief in sight during the ten-or-so-minute drive, although your increased arousal made it feel like hours.

He patted his hand on your thigh when he parked the car, turning his head to look at your hot and bothered face, giving you a charming smile before killing the engine and sliding out of his driver's seat, ordering you not to move before he shut the door. Your roommate popped open your door, holding his hand out for you to help you out of the car. "Such a gentleman." You said, half sarcastically. He smirked, closing the door behind you. He felt his heard skip a beat when you laced your arm with his as the two of you made a short stroll towards the establishment.

Even the outside of the building called you poor in twenty different languages. It was lit up beautifully, the tinted windows giving you a little peek at the rich interior of the building. "You nervous?" He asked as the two of you approached the door. "A little, I've never been somewhere so fancy before." You replied honestly. "Yeah? Just stay close to me, all you gotta do is stay on my arm and look pretty." He cooed.

Geto's confidant demeanor made you hot in the face and other places. You felt like a trophy he was showing off to the world, his confidence rubbing off on you as the two of you walked into the establishment. You approached the man in the front, dressed in a full suit, taking reservation names before you were seated. Geto didn't miss the way the blonde young man blushed as he gave you a one-over, admiring your body before clearing his throat and asking Geto for the name on the reservation. You were too busy looking around the establishment to notice the man's glances, but you did feel Geto's arm squeeze tighter around yours.

"R-right this way." He said, bowing his arm in front of him before starting a trail to the semi-secluded table he would bring you to. The lights hanging above the tables were dim and elegant, it felt strangely warm and comfortable, making you relax your shoulders. "I think our host has a little crush on you~" Geto whispered into your ear, making you jolt out of your daze. "H-huh?" You said, looking up at the dark-haired man in confusion. "You really are so oblivious." He said, giggling, "Someone might try to eat you up one day, you should be more aware." His word irritated you for some reason, but then again, everything he did irritated you.

"Asshole, I'm self-aware. Not everyone is a pervert like you." You spat, averting your gaze to the back of the host boy as you continued your pace to the table. "You'd be surprised." Was the last thing Geto said before the host stopped in front of you, raising his arm out to the table, signaling the two of you to sit. "Thank you." You said to the host, your eye contact making the young man blush as he nodded and said a quick, "My pleasure." before leaving.

"Oh, he's so into you." Geto giggled, sliding into the booth. The seating he gave you looked to be the most beautiful in the restaurant. He had sat you in the corner of the room, a beautiful vintage-looking red light hung between the two of you, the window immediately to your left giving you a view of the Holiday-esc decorated street, twinkling with white lights and garland. You ignored his comment, taking in the scenery as you relaxed into the comfortable cushion, almost forgetting about the toy hiding inside your panties.

"It's so beautiful, Suguru." You said. He fully expected you to curse him out for the comment about the host, so when he received this response instead he was quite taken aback. At that moment he felt his heart race in his chest, but simultaneously a feeling of sadness crept over him. He wished he could afford to take you to places like this more often. Maybe if you were with someone like Satoru, you would get to experience this more. "Suguru?" You called out to him, tilting your head at his far away look.

"Sorry," He replied, being snapped out of his stupor, looking back to you. You looked so beautiful under the dim glow of the red-tinted lights, he wanted to lean across the table and take your lips against his. "It is beautiful." He agreed. You still felt like something was off, but his mood didn't seem odd enough to ruin the night, so you let it be for now. "What made you want to take me here?" You asked, glancing through the wine menu in front of you. He smirked at you, "What, you don't like it? I thought it was beautiful." He teased.

You kicked his shin gently under the table. "Don't be dumb, of course I like it. I've just never been to a place with a set menu before.. and I don't think you have either." You smiled at him. "I've been to a place like this with Satoru before, just once, It seemed like somewhere you deserve to be taken." He answered honestly, grabbing the wine menu to look at himself when you slid it across the wite tablecloth. His words made you blush, you silently thanked the owner of the restaurant for choosing the red lights, it was saving you the embarrassment of Geto pointing out your flushed face.

"I appreciate the sentiment, but you know I love this just as much as when you take me to get McDonald's you know." You giggled. You were sure if anyone around you had heard the comparison of this establishment to a place light McDonalds, their heads might screw off in astonishment. Your words eased the self consciousness in his chest, only you would say something like that. "Plus, I might start acting spoiled if I don't be careful about coming to places like this." You giggled, making him smile.

"What if I want you to be spoiled?" He responded, his tone making you squeeze your thighs together under the table. "You spoil me enough, Suguru." You respond, your sultry voice uttering his name made his pants feel tight. The mood was quickly shifting from romantic to a more lust-filled one. "Yeah?" He responded, slipping his hand into his pant pocket to find the remote connected to the panties, just rubbing his thumb around the button. You nodded, poking his shin with the tip of your heel under the table, your flirty ministrations being hidden by the long white tablecloth.

"How so?" He asked, tilting his head as he pressed the on button of the vibrator, sending a dull vibration against your clit. He watched your eyes flutter at the stimulation, humming out a "hmm?" when he did so. "You're spoiling me r-right now. Always thinking of ways to make me f-feel good." You replied, taking deep breaths to ensure a whine wouldn't slip out. "Am I?" He replied, leaning back against the booth, upping the vibration with the remote in his pants as he watched you jerk forward.

"Suguru-" You wined quietly, biting your lip as you squeezed your thighs together. "Feel good when you cross your legs, baby?" He whispered, leaning his forearms on the table as he tried to look at your expression from your head tipped forward, eyes shut at the intensity. You didn't know how he knew you were crossing your legs, but you nodded in response anyway. "The waiter is coming baby, pull yourself together." He whispered before sitting back, averting his gaze from you as he watched a new man approach your table. You grit your teeth in irritation, if he really wanted you to 'pull yourself together' he would stop the toy.

You swallowed hard, trying to take steady deep breaths into your lungs, smiling at the nice-looking waiter as he approached the table. "What do you want to drink, honey~" He cooed, egging you on by using the ridiculous pet name. The moment you opened your mouth to speak, he upped the vibration twice, making your body jerk forward. Of course, the waiter just had to ask if you were alright. "Yeah, you alright?" Geto chimed in, hiding his smile with faux concern on his face. You waved your hands in front of yourself, "Hiccups." You said, trying to muster up a smile as you glared at the dark-haired man across the table from you.

"Ill order, we'll take the-" Geto's voice faded out as he interacted with the waitor as you bit your tongue, your stomach clenching at each vibration, feeling yourself drip into the panties. You placed your elbow on the table when the man walked away, squeezing your eyes shut you covered your mouth, moans occasionally being muffled against your hand. "Fuck, that was so hot." Geto laughed, feeling himself twitch in his pants. You looked up at him once you cracked your eyes open again, eyebrows scrunched together in pleasure as your thighs squeezed tightly against one another.

"I'll give you a break." He said, reaching into his pocket he switched off the remote, making your muscles unclench as your hand fell from your mouth, gasping as quietly as you could into the air. Geto pulled the tablecloth over his lap so he could grope himself over his pants without anyone seeing him act so indecently. You had no smart remarks left in your brain, you weren't sure if Geto knew how close you had just been to cumming in front of the waitor, but with how breathless he looked you thought he might've had some idea.

You were the one with a toy pressed against your most sensitive spot right now, but just from seeing your reactions alone, Geto was feeling all hot and bothered. Every time you inhaled sharply or your body jerked, he felt his cock leak into his boxers. "Is this okay?" He asked, continuing to rub his cock slowly, giving himself some sort of relief. You nodded, your expression very obviously coated in lust.

"Good, this shit is making me so hard you know that?" He confessed, looking into your eyes. You forced a smile through the arousal, "Maybe next time, you should be the one with a vibrator on your cock." You teased, making him laugh through a groan. "Yeah, might have to let me borrow those panties when you're done here." You clenched your thighs together at the thought of a big strong Suguru with dainty panties pressed against his hard cock, undoubtedly most of his length would be poking out through the top of the panties, and that just fueled your arousal even more.

"Suguru." You wined, covering your mouth once more, he tilted his head at you, feeling you run your leg up his shin, teasing higher and higher as you stroked your heel-clad foot on his thigh, making him hiss in a breath, abandoning the hand on his cock and placing it on the cushion next to him. "Turn it on." You said from behind your hand, looking into his eyes with half-lidded ones. The way you were getting so into this made his face feel hot, his cock twitching under his pants when he felt the tip of your heel press softly against his balls.

He listened to your instruction, switching the vibration on once more, you sucked in a breath, continuing to rub your foot against his crotch. "So naughty." He giggled through his arousal, watching you swallow hard at how good the vibration felt. "Your wine," A voice came out of nowhere, catching the two of you off guard as the waitor seemed to appear out of thin air, filling your glass with the red liquid before repeating the same to Geto. Your heart was racing out of your chest, quickly you snapped out of whatever horny trance you had been in, retracting your foot from Geto's crotch you crossed your legs once more.

Geto smiled at you as you watched the waitor pour the wine, feeling the throbbing in his pants intensify with the loss of your foot on his cock. "Came to your senses?" Geto giggled, switching off the vibrator so you could relax once more. You blushed, embarrassed about how shameless you had just been. You had almost completely forgotten you were in public. "You make me lose them." You said, the vein on your forehead popping out at his audacity. He laughed, reaching over the table to take your hand in his, stroking his thumb over the back of your hand.

You welcomed the feeling, feeling your irritation wash away. "Sorry, truly, didn't mean to embarrass you, sweetheart." He said, smiling more authentically at your face, still screwed in annoyance. You sighed, his charm melting away your annoyance, "It's fine, dude came outta fuckin' nowhere." You complained, pouting. Geto laughed, "I didn't notice him either, sneaky bastard." His shared animosity made you laugh, easing your nerves as the two of you fell into a comfortable conversation.

The rest of the dinner had gone smoothly, the two of you almost completely forgetting about the vibrating panties as you immersed yourself in the conversation, that was until the desert was brought out. Vanilla ice cream and some fancy-looking dessert next to it, looking too pretty to eat. The both of you thanked the waiter, plastering smiles on your faces until he walked out of view. "Suguru I cant do it." "Fuck I'm so glad you said something, I need to take my belt off before I explode.. and it's not for the reason it normally is when I'm with you." He said seriously, making you laugh.

"This place is so expensive though, I feel bad just leaving this here untouched." You said, raking your eyes over the dessert. "Don't force yourself." He said, rubbing his hand over his bloated tummy. There had been 5 courses, they weren't relatively big alone, but after eating so many little dishes you were feeling like you were at your limit. They had all brought flavors you had never tasted before and never thought you would taste, so you couldn't help but think the same would be true about this desert, you didn't want to miss out.

"If you feed me I think I can do it." You teased, sticking your tongue out for the man in front of you. "Fuck." He laughed, feeling his now semi-hard cock twitch to life in his pants. "Might need to take my belt off for that other reason soon." Geto huffed out a laugh, making you giggle with your tongue out as he scooped some of the vanilla ice cream onto the spoon. "Ahhh~" He said, making you repeat the noise as he placed the spoon in your mouth and focused on your plush-looking lips that wrapped around the spoon and licked the cold cream off the spoon.

He pulled it back, sliding the spoon upwards to make sure you swallowed up everything. When he pulled it away, he noticed some of the white liquid smear against your bottom lip, his cock twitched with interest at how similar it looked to another white substance he frequently saw on your lips. Wordlessly he reached across the table and wiped his thumb against your lip, collecting the white liquid and bringing it back to his own mouth, licking it off.

You felt your heart speed up, a pulse could be felt between your legs as you watched him take his own thumb into his mouth and suck sensually, all while keeping his eyes locked onto yours, before popping it out of his mouth. "Sweet." He said. You felt your lip quiver, taking in a shaky breath you whispered. "Get the check." The man stood without another word, opening his wallet, he slapped a couple twenties onto the white cloth before tucking it back into his pants and grabbing your hand, dragging you out of the booth. "Pre-paid." He said, holding the small of your waist as he led the two of you to the entrance of the restaurant.

You looked down at Geto's slacks as the two of you made quick work to exit. The bulge in his pants was very evident to anyone with a pair of working eyes, glancing up at his face he seemed like he couldn't care less as he kept his sights on the trail in front of him. The two of you walked right past the young blonde man who had led you to your table. The man's face turned a deep shade of crimson when Geto grabbed a handful of your ass and looked back to wink at the boy, undoubtably his own pants had tented at the shameless display of Geto's claim on you.

The cold air felt relieving once the two of you made it outside, easing the burning heat your cheeks were experiencing. "I wanted to treat you like a lady tonight but you make me lose control when I'm around you, know that?" He confessed, keeping his eyes glued in front of him as his car came into view. "Were the vibrating panties part of you treating me like a lady?" You teased, looking up at him. "Maybe not, saw them in the window of some sex shop on the way home last night." He said, finally reaching the car. He gave your ass one last squeeze before he opened the door for you and helped you inside.

"Cant help it, just wanna slut you out every chance I get." He said, winking at you before he shut the door softly, leaving you flustered as you crossed your hands in your lap, waiting for him to enter the car. You gasped when you felt the vibration start up suddenly, moments later Geto's door popped open and he slid inside, keeping the car off as he shut the door behind him. Leaning into your face, he placed his hand on the side of your soft cheek, "Cmere baby." He whispered before he connected your lips together.

You moaned against his lips, his other hand coming to rub against your clothed cunt, pressing the vibrator harder against you. He was panting into the kiss, the exchange was filled with teeth and tongue as he devoured you with his lips. Your hands came up to wrap around his wrist that held your face, making him hum against your lips. Your moans into the kiss increased in volume as he frantically rubbed back and forth against the vibrator, simultaneously making the silicone rub your clit, creating a heavenly feeling.

"Want you to cum right here in my car before we leave, need to see you cum." Geto panted against your lips, making you wine. He was throbbing in his pants, there was nothing he needed more in this moment than to see you fall apart on his fingers and the vibrator he got you, wearing the dress he bought you. You moaned into the kiss, tangling your tongue with his as you felt your orgasm creep up on you alarmingly fast. You dug your nails into his wrist, arching your back your legs spread themselves apart instinctually as you teetered on the edge of your orgasm.

"Sug-uru- Sugu-" You moaned his name breathlessly against his lips, he knew you were about to cum. He kept the same pace and pressure against you as your hips started bucking into his hand to get yourself there. "Take it baby- take it cmon-" He whispered against your lips. He moved his kisses to the side of your mouth and cheek when you became unable to kiss him back, your jaw going slack as the dam broke and you came hard against the vibrator.

His hand gripped your thigh hard, his nails digging into the fat as he moaned with you as you came. He felt lightheaded watching your body jerk and spasm in his hold. "Yeah, that's my girl~ good fucking girl~" He praised, continuing to rub your clit as he worked you through the last shocks of your orgasm. Once you came down from your high and your brain started functioning regularly again, you registered his words in your head. 'my girl' the words echoed over and over in your head.

Surely those words were only uttered from the heat of the moment, but it sure as hell sounded nice rolling off his tongue. You pushed his hand away in overstimulation as the vibration continued, making you twitch against the car seats. "Sorry baby, I got you." He whispered, pulling away from your face he reached into his pocket and switched the vibrator off. "I feel better now." He said, making you come to your senses as you giggled. "You?" You said incredulously. "It makes me feel good to make you cum, you should know that by now." He said honestly.

You believed his words wholeheartedly. His cock was still rock hard and twitching in his pants but he did look more relieved than he did when he first pulled you into the car. His breath had evened out too. "Want me to suck you off while you drive us home?" You asked, glancing between his hard-on poking through his pants and his handsome face. He laughed, "Such a vulgar mouth you have, roomie." He teased, grabbing your face he squshed your cheeks together, shaking your head back and forth. "I plan to fuck you nice and good when we get home if that sounds okay with you, so I can wait."

You nodded frantically, he didn't have to look over at you to know your answer, your head shaking his arm with the intensity with which you nodded. "You're so sweet, yknow that?" He said, his words catching you off guard. "Why are you bein' so sappy? Got a crush on me?" You joked, not expecting the silence that followed as he released your face as started the car, signaling before he pulled out into the dark street, heading for your shared apartment.

You looked over to Geto's face and noticed a light blush dusting his cheeks every time he drove under a streetlight, illuminating his features. You suddenly felt very self-conscious, your own cheeks heating up the longer he took to respond. "Oh." You said, turning your body to face the street as you gazed out through the window. "I'm not asking you to like me back sweet cheeks, just keep hanging out with me and I'll survive." He said.

Your heart was racing, you felt dizzy and slightly nauseous. It made sense that he liked you, the two of you had been living together for years, you spent more time with him more than anyone else you knew, and you had been hooking up for a couple of months now, it made sense that he had feelings for you. It's not like his feelings weren't reciprocated, you started noticing your heart pick up around him a couple months ago, right after the two of you started hooking up.

You had chalked it up to being arousal or lust, noticing how the strange feeling became stronger when he touched you or spoke to you. You realized quickly that this was not just lust, you were in fact very in love with your roommate. He did look like he had been chiseled by the gods themselves, and he had a lovely (for the most part) personality to match, he was funny, he cared about your well-being, he took care of you when you were sick, cuddled with you, gave you the dick of your life- he was everything you could've ever wanted and more.

"Can you say something though, you're making me feel embarrassed." His voice broke through the deafening silence, breaking you out of your stupor. You didn't realize the two of you had already been driving for so long, your apartment coming into view as he pulled into the parking spot in front of your building. Say something, say something, this is your chance, say something idiot just- Geto was internally panicking, he regretted leaving his answer so ambiguous, he should've just said "Of course not~" When you asked if he liked you, fuck he was such an idiot, he just ruined your relationship he was sure of it.

Surely you wouldn't feel comfortable living in the same house with someone who was in love with you, of course, that would be uncomfortable, fuck. Was it too late to say he was joking? Shit. Maybe you would move out, god- he felt sick, he wanted to get out of the car and run away, excape this awkward atmosphere, and just-

Your lips were on his, you were kissing him, you had your hands on his thighs and you were kissing him. "Sorry." You pulled away. "I- I'm not good with this kinda stuff but I had to do something." He registered your voice speak to him. "I uh- I like you too." You blushed, looking at the scenery outside the car, counting the tiles on your building, anything to avoid his eyes. "I almost jumped out of the window, never do that shit again." He said, sighing the heaviest sigh one man has ever sighed.

You burst out into laughter, "Sorry, wasn't exactly expecting you to confess your love when I was harmlessly teasing you~" You said, squinting your eyes at him. He swallowed hard, your hands on his thighs suddenly burning with an indescribable heat against his skin. "Can I take you inside and fuck you now? Think I might die If I don't get inside you soon." he whispered into the silent car.

--

Your back slammed into the door of your apartment, muffled moans and breaths mingling between the two of you as Geto wrappped a large arm around your waist to keep you pressed against his body, his other digging in his pocket to fish out the key and get the two of you inside. "Geto-" You moaned against his lips, "Hurry." You don't think you've ever felt this hot and bothered in your life. You frantically unbuttoned his shirt, his bare chest being exposed to the open air as you made quick work of his belt while he blindly inserted the key into the door and twisted it open.

The two of you almost crashed to the ground when the door opened behind you, stumbling inside Geto slammed the door shut and locked it behind you, working his hands on the back of your dress he uncliped the hook at the top and slid the garment in one swipe off of your body, leaving you clad in just the panties. "No bra?" He breathed against your lips, feeling his hand come into contact with nothing but your skin when he instinctively went to unclasp your bra. "Thought we might end up like this~" You whispered agaisnt his lips, yanking his belt through the loops of his pants and throwing it somewhere in the room.

He lifted you from under your thighs, kissing and biting your neck frantically as he walked you to the familiar path to his room. You pressed the back of his neck agaisnt you, tangling your hands in his long hair while he kicked open his door and took long strides to the bed, throwing you down on it, making you bounce against his mattress. Geto breathed heavily, unbuttoning his pants with one hand he crawled onto the bed, slotting himself between your thighs and welcoming yours that wrapped around his as he slid his pants off in the process, leaving the both of you only clad in your undergarments.

He placed one hand on your neck and pressed you into the bed, his lips chasing yours as he kissed you needily. You made a sound of discomfort against his lips, feeling something rough on your lower back. You pulled away from the kiss briefly to reach under your back and move whatever was irritating your skin. You didn't expect to pull out a pair of your panties, stiffer than you remember them being, from behind your back, more importantly, you didn't expect to see them in Geto's bed.

"Geto I am right here," you said, deadpanning, holding the cum soaked panties to the side of you. He smiled, taking the panties from your hand he tucked them under his pillow, "You wouldn't get it~" He said, tipping your head to the side he dropped his head to your neck, moving his hand out of the way a bit so he could leave hickeys on your skin. You gasped, "N-no I don't, why keep stealing my p-panties and cumming on them when you can walk ten feet down the hall and fuck me?" You asked, your breath picking up when he kissed a particularly sensitive spot on your neck.

"It's the thrill." He says, biting your neck before soothing over the same spot with his tongue, easing the sting. "Sneaking around and stealing your panties-" kiss "when you have no idea," kiss "Gets me off so hard." He explains. "You're s-such a pervert." You whine, and yet feel yourself clench around nothing at his words. "That shit too." He says, gripping your naked tighter in his hold. "Love when you tell me how nasty I am, keep doing it." He instructs, moving his lips down to take your nipple into his mouth, flicking it with his tongue.

"Fuck- Suguru-" You moan, bucking your hips up into his, simultaneously wrapping your legs around him tighter. "Tell me, baby, tell me how dirty I am." He speaks, the words coming out muffled around your nipple, the vibration of his words tingling through your hardened bud and making you drip between your thighs. "Y-you're such a filthy pervert S-suguru." You say, immediately getting a loud groan of approval from him, his hips humping into your own, the bulge in his pants being rubbed just right against your clit.

"Yeah?" He moans, releasing your nipple with a lewd pop as he switches to the other one, sucking it into his mouth and flicking his tongue over it, feeling it harden in his mouth. "Yeah, baby- s-so nasty stealin' my panties and makin' a m-mess all over them." He groans, his hips pressing themselves harder into your panty-clad pussy. "Bet you pretend 'ur fucking my cunt huh-?" You tease, feeling his hand slide down between your legs and move the panties to the side of your pussy so he could rub his boxer-covered dick between your naked folds.

He moans out a, "mhm-" against your nipple, pulling down his boxers just enough to free his dick as he rubs his length between your folds, his wet tip bumping into your clit as he does so. "Do you w-wrap the around y-our cock o-or-" You were cut off by his fat tip pressing against the entrance of your pussy, not pushing in, just keeping pressure against the twitching hole as he nibbled on your nipple, giving it one last suck before pulling away.

"Sometimes I'll lick the part where your pussy goes 'n taste you," He starts, peppering kisses across the expanse of your chest. "Fuck.." You moan, feeling your face grow hot at his words. "Sometimes I'll hold them up to my nose 'n smell you, use 'em to jerk off-" You pressed your hand over his mouth, breathing heavily at his shameless explanation. "You really are disgusting." You said, feeling yourself clench around nothing.

Suguru released a shaky breath, feeling a tingle shoot up his spine at your mean words before he thrust his cock into your pussy in one thrust, groaning at how tight you felt around him, the sound coming out muffled from your hand pressed against his mouth. "Ohmygod-" You whined, your hand dropping from his lips and falling against the sheets to your side as you gripped the cloth between your fingers tightly.

Suguru leaned back, pulling your thighs over his larger ones and sitting on his calves, he immediately started up a brutal pace inside you, fucking his cock into you as he used one hand to hold your panties to the side, getting a perfect view of your cunt swallowing up his dick. "Your pussy is eating up my dick like it's the tastiest thing in the world~" Geto cooed, bringing the pad of his thumb to rub circles agaisnt your little clit, poking out argrilly from under the hood.

"Fuck- S-Suguru!" You moaned, thrashing your head from side to side against his pillows. "God I love how dumb you get from my dick baby~ You like it this much? Huh?" He asked, emphasizing his words with rough thrusts as he picked up his ministrations on your clit. "Yes, baby- Fuck- Fuck I love it-" You babbled, forcing yourself to peel your eyes open to watch him fuck you properly. "Yeah you do- Fuck, you're so fucking tight-" He groaned, shutting his eyes and tipping his head back as he fucked his cock into you mercilessly, drilling his fat tip straight into your g-spot.

"Can feel myself leakin' all inside your cunt-" He drops his chin to watch your sloppy cunt drip your arousal around him, "She's fuckin' milking me-" He laughs through a groan. Geto was normally talkative in bed, but he seemed to be even more aroused, you guessed it had something to do with the confession that happened earlier in the car. "Suguru- you're splitting me open-" You moan, bringing one of your hands to press down on your lower tummy, feeling his cock beat your walls from the inside of you.

He giggled, bringing one of his hands to press down over yours, making you feel it even more. "Yeah? You feel me deep in there baby? I'm all up in 'ur fuckin' guts." He laughed, pistoning his hips into yours. Your face was all screwed up in pleasure, your hips wiggling against his as you felt your orgasm build up quickly inside you. "Fuck- yes- Suguru Im gonna cum- t-think I-m gonna squirt-" You say, noticing how the ball in your stomach felt a little different than normal.

Suguru had made you squirt before, and you never got used to it. It felt so intense, and on top of that, it was so fucking embarrassing. Suguru didn't seem to think so, it always made him so fucking dizzy when he made you squirt. "Yeah? Gonna squirt for me when I cum inside you?" He cooed, his thrusts starting to lose their rhythm as he felt his balls tighten with his impending orgasm. "Yes, Sugu please- please cum inside me- mark me as y-yours-" You wined, looking into his deep eyes as you spoke.

"Fuckkk, wanna be mine?" He groaned, biting his lip as he felt his cock twitch with his orgasm approaching alarmingly fast. "Yes- make me yours!" You cried, throwing your head back as the first wave of your orgasm crashed over you. Your cunt constricted around Geto's massive cock, your squirt spraying onto his abdomen, wetting his skin and boxers he had pulled down to pull his cock out. "Ohfuck-" He moaned gritting his teeth. "Give it to me- milk this fucking c-cock-" He moaned, his jaw falling open as he felt his cum travel up his cock.

You continued to convulse on his cock as he fucked you through your orgasm and into his own. "Gonna make you mine gonna- f-fuckfuck-" He cut himself off, pressing down hard on your stomach as his hips stilled against you feeling the first rope of his cum spill inside your cunt. His eyes rolled back in his head, bringing his hips back, he fucked each and every rope of his hot cum as deep as he could into your cunt, pressing his balls flush against your ass as he spilled the last of his seed into you.

You bit your lip, trying to stay sane as he twitched through the last bit of his high, overstimulating you when his cock moved a little too much inside you. "Godddd-" He groaned, pulling his cock out as the both of you hissed in oversensitivity. His cum immediately follows his cock and drips out of your hole, spilling down the crack of your ass. "So pretty, you did so fucking good for me baby." He praised, pulling your pussy lips apart to watch his cum slide out of you.

"My," huff "eyes are up here." you breathed out with a smirk, making him huff out a laugh. "Feelin' jealous?" He teased, tucking his soaked cock back into his boxers before he leaned his massive frame over you, embracing the feeling of your legs wrapping around his waist as he cradles your face in his hands, looking between your plush lips and eyes before pressing his mouth to yours softly and pulling back. "You feelin' okay? I went kinda hard." He smiled apologetically.

Your own hands came up to hold his sweats face, brushing his bangs out of his face. "I'm a little sore, but I think I'll survive." You said, before looking away and pondering, bringing your eyes back to his after a brief intermission with yourself. "Unless you'll baby me more if I say no, in which case, no, I'm feeling absolutely wrecked." your dramatics made him laugh. You took the opportunity to place kisses all over the expanse of his face as he laughed wholeheartedly.

Once his giggles died down a more serious look took over his features. "I didn't just say all that shit in the heat of the moment by the way." Geto spoke, rubbing your cheeks, "About makin' you mine." He elaborated. "Good." You answered, leaning your head up to press your lips together again. "Wanna be my girlfriend?" He asked properly. You pushed him off of you, switching your positions as you crawled on top of him, his hands finding their way to your tits as he massaged them in his hands.

"Depends how well you fuck me during round two~" You tease, wiggling your hips down against his semi-hard cock, steadily growing under the heat of your cunt. "Sounds like you might be my wife in about ten minutes." He challenges, making you burst into a fit of giggles as he sat up and wrapped his arms around you in a bear hug, attacking your shoulders with kisses.

[gangplanksorenji]

Pulchritude

Pairing: ITZY’s Yeji x Male Reader

Word Count: 7,089

A/N: It's been a while Orenjideul! This wasn't planned to be on my draft schedule but planned at the same time LOL (pretty much quickly written). Also, thanks for @mintwithchoco for the beta-reading that made the insights about the fic!!

This was originally part of something I've been working on with and expanded it with such vague plot to probably spice things up. Enjoy reading!! <3

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“You’re crazy for this one, Chaewon.”

“It’s not my doing—” Chaewon retorts, circling her fingers onto the rim of her glass with such a distinctive smell of a concoction that piques you, distracting you a little from her words. “—this is just a part of a test.”

She drinks from her glass and darts her eyes towards you, laced with anticipation and that hint of doubt in you. You smirk with her given stare, feeling that she's getting ahead of herself with it and she’ll soon eat up her words. Extending your arm a little onto the head of the chair, you look at her with vanity and such a playful intent that intimidates her a little. “I’d say you being here is somewhat helpful by all means…”

“And why is that?” 

Her eyes never fail to intimidate you, those orbs glowing in anticipation as she doesn't break her sophisticated demeanor. You fix your posture and lean closer to her, elbows on the table and your hands subtly clasped, answering her. “So I could let you know that you’ll be embarrassed at the end of the day.”

Chaewon’s hubris wouldn’t let your words slide and make her believe you, a chortle audible within your ears as she shifted onto her usual phlegmatic disposition. “We’ll see about that but for now—” Her well-manicured nails click the champagne glass two times, before giving a sly smile of a faulty sincerity. “—you gotta do what you gotta do.”

It wouldn’t end in a usual Chaewon fashion unless her drink is empty, sipping the last few milliliters of that delectable concoction, then getting off on her seat with her last words of the night. “Text me when you’ve done it, then we'll meet tomorrow afternoon.”

Grabbing her designer bag then leaving towards the doors of such a high-class bar, you could just sense the air reeking defeat all over you, but you’ll prove her wrong. You’ll just thank yourself for getting rid of her condescending nature albeit it really fuels your aim for victory, so is the upbeat music the bar brings. 

You’ll make things work and take that triumphant ecstasy up to your name, with someone’s panties on the floor. 

“I guess we need the devil inside me to take over.” Of course you will, and you’ll do that just about right.

---

Maybe the myths are true: sometimes, the devil does unspeakable things and it’s only a matter of time before it unveils its real nature. Not exactly an excerpt, a quote or the sayings of the elderly but mostly your own common conscience that has its own intersections of roads you can’t fathom nor follow—deep inside, you’re on a leash and Chaewon’s words intoxicates you, and you’ll prove her wrong after this. 

“We’re going to have some fun tonight.”

“Oh, do you think we will?” You ask pretty playfully and audaciously, playing with her possible games. You barely know her aside from being that time where you’d constantly steal glances with her during and after Chaewon’s existence at the bar and subconsciously know you’d always come. At that moment, you know something’s disturbed within you and it’s in a good way—this is something that’s completely going to serve gratification, and you can sense how strong your gut feeling is.

“We will.” The girl inches herself closer towards you, your back pressed against the cold concrete as she pins you with her frame, fidgeting her fingers onto the hem of your shirt and then the penultimate, such dexterous fingers circling around your chest.

You feel her minty breath mixed with a hint of tequila brush against your skin as you raise her head, eyes in contact with yours—you know she’s proving something, even just with her words but those wouldn’t be enough.

“Care for an introduction?” Your hands fancy its way onto her waist, as you endearingly looked at those sharp, monolid eyes of hers rivaling that alluring stare. 

Her eyes dart between your face and onto your body, as her voice speaks up in a volume.“Yeji. You can call me Yeji.” 

Her voice invites you, and you’re captivated with her sultry tone and god, that stare of hers would make any man fall upon your own judgment but on your shoes, it would bear such a challenge. Even with such temptation handled pretty well, you can’t help but hint such an invitation under her spell—those eyes, her sultry voice, such a beautiful face and the promised treasure of them all, her impeccable figure.

You’d like to start on something fresh, induce such a new chapter that’s bound to end up in such an incredible fashion but you could only assume those things, yet.

Well, you won’t fight yourself over some idiotic retaliation between your temptations and let yourself be the judge of her capabilities and this doesn’t help when she’s just inches away from laying such a mark that will define one’s lust.

Looking straight to the abyssal void of her eyes, you’re enticed as you lift off her chin with your finger. “There you go, I love a woman with manners.” You hit her up with her own medicine: tempting.

“Who says anything about manners?” Even such chagrins or predicaments wouldn’t stop her, not unless you tell her so as the only thing you could feel are those luscious lips locked against yours. 

The sounds of such muscle creating vacuum of sounds and suctions overpowers the fading noise of the music the bar resonates—all you can hear is her kisses up against yours and you’d love to listen to it all day. 

Nothing too short nor sweet, but god, this was enough to make such a bold verdict.

“A talented kisser, hm?” Yeji hums as she pulls away from your lips’ embrace, feeling captivated with the way you display such talent.

“A girl as pretty as you would make a man like this.” Your hands then freely roam to the limited skin her waist shows but you’re not the guy to complain, but to be grateful. “Now tell me something, Yeji…”

Yeji’s eyes widen; pupils dilate as she anticipates your next words, “Tell what?”

You smirk, as your buttons were pressed enough to make such a bold move. “Why would you want me? From all of the people there, why me?”

Yeji smirks just like you, then bites her lips, using such a modicum of her actions to indulge you even more. “I just know the world destined us to this moment—led us to this moment and god…” Yeji’s hands unbuttons the topmost button of your shirt as her hands permeate such heat onto your chest to push you onto the edge. “I know what you’re gonna give to me tonight.”

Such telepathic abilities enable you to read her thoughts, and you know exactly where she’s going towards, “Let me guess, a show for the world to know?”

“For the world to fucking know.” Yeji’s words end your sentence, and seal the deal.

Licking her lips in delight, you can feel her hands roam on your chest, your abdomen then the final stop, your growing bulge. She cups onto it like it’s something she would ruin and take care of, the best of both worlds as you let out such a nigh-inaudible moan, and Yeji knows exactly you’re liking this.

“You always need to ask.” And there she goes with her wonders.

All you can see is Yeji promptly getting on her knees, and with her absolute dexterity, does her talent to unbuckle and undress your bottom half more than a count to ten.

“God…” She’s mesmerized with the view she’s currently having: you, still in your boxers as her disposition clearly displays awe and amazement. “You’re hard already this fast? Must’ve turned you on too much?”

“Who wouldn’t with a girl like you?” It just shows your evident arousal, and Yeji’s grateful to bear such an entrance. Giving the green light, she then slowly strips off your boxers down to your ankles, mostly gravity doing the work and there she goes, such eyes gleaming with utter hunger and lust.

Her lips mouth such words full of awe as her hands cups the base of your erection, leisurely stroking it as she utters such profanity, “God, your cock is something else I didn’t expect.”

Your hubris just elevated, and let your commanding demeanor take over. “Glad it is. Now, show me what you’re made of.”

She wouldn’t lose against such a hubristic battle, and settles up for a possibly stellar moment. “I won’t disappoint.”

A clear view of her lips sends pecs around your length, letting you know the immediate worshiping and carnal needs fueling her for the time being. From the base up to your already leaking slit, she didn’t waste such precious time letting you know how much she loves this and it's just evident from the start. 

She grows impatient with her repetitive kisses and ups the ante, knowing how this will make your world go wild. “I may just find myself occupied more with this.”

“Less talking and more sucking.” As much as her patience grows thinner by the second, and so are yours. She scoffs off a giggle, knowing that the main event will be such a roller coaster ride.

With the last suction of her lips collecting that colorless liquid, she advances onto something pleasurable. Her tongue then dances around your red cockhead, swirling and permeating her saliva around, upping such sensitivity on your end and with that result, you shiver and inevitably moan in response.

She suckles on your swollen head, then advances past your frenulum to do the wonder she does to your slit and god, this was elevating the experience of such gratification.

“God, s-such a talented mouth, huh?”

“Gifted, I guess.” She continues her oral assault on your throbbing length, thrusting her head up and down as she quickly accelerates the pace up to both your likings. 

The quicker speed sums up the possible experience she has and it shows—such technique is unmatched with the way her tongue dances around your shaft and the little introduction of such a serrated culprit antagonizing the pleasure you’re experiencing, albeit, you wouldn’t bother with such little pain. She takes more than half of your shaft as spits dominate her heart-shaped lips, running down to her cheeks and onto her chin which shows the passion she’s giving in every second.

The occurrence won’t be complete without elevated stimulation: you’d just feel your balls being fondled by her right hand as she encourages more for you to feel. 

And it’s working well, too well for you to utter such compliments. “You’d make myself occupied too, i-if you want—shit, that’s great…”

An audible mhmm can be heard between her bobs as she elevated the speed, then resulting into such a mess that’s just turning you on even more. Saliva continues to drip down onto her chin and onto your clothes that’s probably damned to be given care with, tears flowing down her cheek as she takes more and suddenly, she tests her limits with a single act of boldness and bravery.

She rests her nose onto your abdomen, testing her gag reflex as she’s determined to tame it but in the end, it wasn’t in her favor. Gasps escape her mouth as she catches her breath, saliva connected onto those sinful lips was just the cherry on top yet your grow little concern, afraid she may push herself too much as soon as she coughed. “You good, Yeji?”

“I’m good—I’m good, I’m g-great—your cock is just addicting.” The succulence was evident with her repeated slurps onto your shaft, and you’re just in total bliss with her performance.

Things are not done, and she’d like to end the business with a good note.

She proved herself enough and with her immediate harsh pace, you wouldn’t be a hypocrite nor lie about it. The blurry orange-bobbing head of hers just becomes a repeated image tarnished in your brain, etched until the end of time. She continues what she’s best at, gripping your thighs for further display of talent and as a reply with the surging pleasure coursing through your veins, you opted to fight the leverage with the gripping of your hands onto her audacious head.

Constant slurps, gags and moans just became the music in the air and it’s just the paramount mood you're indulged into. You’d be damned if someone will see the both of you in such a sinful act but you don’t care anymore, not when Yeji’s mouth does explicit wonders on every inch of your body and clouding your mind with such sinful thoughts.

The head game is literally onto another level of experience, but such things wouldn’t last for so long.

She can feel your persistent throbs in her mouth, and it’s a common courtesy to ask where it will end. “You’re pretty close, I assume.”

“Yeah—” You groan in pleasure as she strokes your saliva-sheathed cock with the utmost pace her hands can muster. “—and I want it all over your face.”

Yeji just smiled mischievously, knowing how things will end up on a pivotal climax and how things will unveil between the both of you. “Then do it—cover me.”

All you can see are those pretty, sharp eyes in awe as she closes it, her visage in full display for you to paint on. This is a canvas worth investing such artwork on  and you’d besmirch it with such strokes worth millions. She moans as she feels each rope touches her face, mostly her cheeks, nose, lips, chin and some even getting onto her hair. Those fifteen seconds felt like a minute as you’re in a total state of bliss and for such a conclusion, she strokes you in hopes of milking you dry, emptying up your reservoir.

“God, that tasted great.” Yeji licks her lips and hums in satisfaction and when your senses are coming back to life, you ask her with such doubt.

“How would you clean up?”

Yeji chuckles as she stands up, facing you, “No one wouldn’t care.”

You smile sincerely as you dress your bottom-half up, satisfied as her voice invites you. “Let’s get out of here.”

She’s partly a monster; partly an angel in disguise, yet she can be the best of both worlds and it’s only a matter of time before depths will be reached.

---

Gone are the boisterous music ringing repeatedly in your ears and the alcohol that will probably dominate your body, because at this time, there’s nothing better than her lips locked against yours for the second time.

She feels ruthless and so were you, feeling her tongue dancing against yours and you gripping her waist harshly as you deepen such entanglement.

Her room was something pivotal about your already impeding arousal: dim lights, vanilla-scented air freshener and such a balcony for the both of you to enjoy, and maybe it’s something else than what’s usually known for people to do there.

“Never knew you could have such a room, Yeji.”

Yeji smirks as her nails dug into your skin gently, pressing it playfully as she mouthed her own pride. “This is nothing compared to anything you’ll see but for now, you’ll be more than my guest.” And then her eyes locked up against yours as those orbs wandered around your beautiful face.

Her eyes really tell you about her adoration, as the earlier test was just the tip of the iceberg, and guess what, you passed with flying colors.

“I’d love to be one, Yeji.”

You then share another torrid kiss with her, feeling attached to her ultimately and falling under her spell. She kisses you genuinely as you reciprocate, but you want more, so you pull out of her lips’ embrace, earning a moan from her as you find your way on peppering her neck with pecs and those sharp collar bones. 

You’d eventually take a glance of her flawless features, even though it’s evident ruined by you earlier but it’s such an important element of such undying beauty. You earned your minuscule rewards—her faint moans and chants calling you—and you’d love to double it, with more skin, your lips parts and marks.

“God, please—fuck…” Yeji’s pleas are audible enough for you to be distracted and it’s worth your while knowing it’s something that could elevate such an experience.

“Please what, Yeji?” You continue pecking her creamy, porcelain skin, suckling on it but not enough to result in hickeys and god, it just resulted in sexier moans escaping her lips. 

She’s struggling to articulate words that can formulate her wants, but she’d put up an end to such a clouding demise. “I want more—god—more, please…”

You grip her waist harsher, gaining such control as you pin her harder onto the wall and what a poor soul whimpering upon your own dominative assertion. You grant her needs as you caress her waist while peppering her with torrid kisses, resulting in such a cacophonous symphony that you would cherish hearing every second. 

You wanted more from her and her answer still made your satisfaction resting onto a low zero. “What do you want from me, baby?”

The word elicits a gasp from her mouth, feeling appalled with such a name she always finds hot and funnily enough, the stars are aligning. 

She whimpers but manages to think clearly and didn’t hesitate to be vocal about it, “Your cock, please—” 

As she’s about to advance her hands onto your clothes crotch, you stop her as you shake your head leisurely, having another plan in mind. “No—have some patience and also…” Yeji’s eyes scintillate beneath the dim light that appears as she’s anticipating what words could leave your mouth. “I gotta return the favor.” 

Your hands roamed its way onto the hem of her tight skirt, and asked such a question she can’t deny. “May I?”

She hitched a broken breath and gulped as she responded intimately, “Yes—yes, you can.”

Your fingers ran towards the edge of her skirt and eventually found the zipper and did such wonders, things that could easily soothe her and make her more comfortable. As much as you wanted to see it down on the floor, revealing her probably wet panties, you have other thoughts about your own, selfish arousal.

“Don’t want it on the floor?”

“This outfit, Yeji—” Your left hand then forced her figure pressed onto yours as she yelped with your immediate action, earning a startled whimper as her eyes looked at you like it’s her favorite candy. She loves your subtle harsh acts, and she won’t be deprived of any since this was just a gentle introduction. “—looks amazing on you.”

Yeji smiles as the compliment strokes her ego and how genuine you sounded, “Thanks, for—ooh, gosh!”

She yelped with your touch permeating on her legs as you roamed your hands towards her clothed regions which earned such a sultry, needy moan from Yeji. You can feel the heat that’s rivaling your cold hands and as the cherry on top, her wetness evident from her slit which is probably leaking right from the start.

You loosen up the zip of her skirt and god, she vocalizes how better it felt and maybe it’s mostly because of the fact that your fingers are pleasuring her crotch against that fine silk that’s about to be ruined thanks to your dexterity. It was pursuant to her and wherever she wants it, you’re going to follow it and with her subsequent moans, you’d like to let her know that your skills are up to par. Feeling the hunger running down your body, you can’t help but share another kiss, but this time, it feels chaste since all of the attention and unfeigned emotions are translated down with your fingers. They both felt like deprived lions from the wild, and such an inevitable kiss will bound to feed the pleasure the both of you are needing.

The evident bulge pokes down on your pants and Yeji was quick to notice that, cupping it and caressing to tame the beast. You moaned with her actions and so she is, too, but it's a repeated chant in your ears as she pleads with you for your own comfort. “Your cock, please.”

You didn’t care anymore, and knowing how the both of you wanted this then you wouldn’t deny her for doing the same thing you’re great at. Even with pleasure lingering onto every lobe in her brain, it won’t stop her to claim her promised prize as you help her undress your bottom-half, unbuckling your belt as she does the last step and all you can feel are your defenses going down, one by one as the raging beast that’s inside that clothed prison is about to be unshackled. 

The wait was worth it and the both of you are now in such a vulnerable state that a single touch would make a writhe or shiver as sensitivity is the culprit. Yeji’s fingers are on point and dexterous as expected—the way she danced her hands around your shaft, stroking it in a corkscrew motion is making you feel such bliss that’s unmatched and god, the scene is just hot.

You never thought the sight of the both of you masturbating would be so damn arousing and thought it was just some myth but yet again, hypocrisy is eliminated within the time being.

“God—you really can’t wait, huh?” 

“How can I? We need to mutually feel the same.” Yeji knows her pursuit against your aching beast wasn’t going to bother you, but rather the opposite. Her strokes were going livid as you groan with the lack of lubrication but it was exchanged by the pleasure that she gives you and of course, you wouldn’t lose onto this game and did the same, possibly vibrating your fingers and you maintain such an up and down motion which inevitably elicits such visceral moan from her.

The both of you did your best with your own expertise, doing such sinful things without even the main event is honestly criminal, and you would hold onto that because you want to make use of this and you’d prove to her you’re as good as she is.

“You’re fucking dripping, Yeji—god, did I turn you on so much?” Possibly a rhetorical question or maybe not, but either way, you know she’ll be a little irritated enough to defend her claim and quit such hypocrisy.

“N-No shit—you’re that talented too, huh?” You smile with her inadvertent compliment as you avert your eyes through her clothed crotch and it’s being ruined with her own doing, leaving such a masterpiece of clothing worthless, spoiled with her own juices.

“A natural, more likely—ah!” You yelp with Yeji’s sudden squeeze of your shaft in between her strokes as you glare at her playfully, her face then forming such a seductive smirk then a little scoff with your confidence. 

“You’re cocky too? God, you’re such a rare gem.”

A rare find, you suppose which is truly the truth—you’ll prove to her that there’s no one she can find that will be better than you. Your impatience is growing thinner by the second even with such a hot mess between both your crotches, and you’d let her know about your frustrations and needs.

“Yeji, I need to fuck you now.”

The tone is commanding, your face stern and her eyes widen with those simple words of need. Your eyes meet hers and they never lie—those glowing orbs of yours didn’t cease the exhilaration you’re feeling and she’s the one to blame. 

As much as it hurts for the both of you to stop, it will be rewarding once the climax settles in for such a spectacular show.

“How would you want me?” Yeji’s voice was bubbly but still hinting at that lace of seduction, being the alluring vixen that she is. 

“Strip that skirt, lay onto your stomach, and lastly, feet onto the floor.”

She is as thrilled as you are, and immediately puts up a show but doesn't go further without a question for such clarification, “Don’t you wanna see me naked?”

You would want to, but not now.

“Just the skirt, please. Everything else, on.” Commanding and straight to the point, just how you wanted all along. 

There were no complaints or the fact she’s abstaining from this command of yours, and in fact, it maybe even made it hotter. The way she’s seductively teasing and pulling her zipper until gravity does the job, it’s just a sight to behold and the final product left you in awe: the ruined black silk panties in such alongside the scribbled pattern of her stocking that just made the sight sizzle it complete heat that she emanates (figuratively).

“Like what you see?” She turns around then again, showing you her perfect figure all with your eyes to feast on as you were a step away from your final prize.

“Yes, now please turn around and lay on your stomach like I said.”

Your imperative nature sets herself in a position of reluctance but then shifts onto an immediate opposite. She does what she was told and wiggles her ass leisurely to invite you with a temptation to ruin her and even though if she won’t be vocal about it, you'd make it so that she won't be able to walk until the next day.

Yeji looks back onto her shoulder and lets out such profanity words, “Make a mess out of me—I don’t break easily.”

You won’t be convinced until you try it yourself but looking at her robustness and skills earlier, you might have to be biased with your judgment. “We’ll see about that.”

Completely kicking your garments to god knows where, you’re now in a better state of control as you tease her wet folds, earning a whimper that becomes uncontrollable as soon as you sink your finger against her raging heat. 

You can’t wait no more, you absolutely can’t because you’re dying to know what she feels like and with her last bit of defense out of your way, it’s time to do the unthinkable.

Now parting her supple legs with your hands, your eyes feast on her impeccable figure then onto that delicious cunt that’s making you drool. Unable to contain your enjoyment and your fantasies against her, you caught her by surprise with an unexpected twist—probably the twist that you’re involved in would be your tongue lathering her folds and tasting the escaping nectar that she produces.

It was succulent and you dived in it easily as the musky, floral scent of her tight cunt invites you, and you didn’t waste time as this was a golden opportunity. You wanted to tease her just for the sake of stimulation, playing a game with her ramping orgasm building up but you’d reckon the opposite and such pace ensued impatiently.

“Fuck! Such a t-talented mouth—fuck!” Yeji’s whines were coherent enough for you to increase the pace and double your efforts—you wish to let her reach her denied climax earlier with your fingers and your mouth. It wasn’t far off as you can feel her juices forming a rivulet onto her labia and spreading onto your chin and mouth, knowing how incredibly close she can be. She calls you repeatedly, gripping the sheets tight enough to rip it but it can’t and you eat her out with an effort that no one can rival.

A single wail is what it took before she screams, and there goes your long-chased win within a second away—

“I’m going to cum—” Surprisingly short and articulate, you let her give everything she has and there she goes—

Yeji’s orgasm comes in quickly as soon as she mutters those desperate words, and she immediately lays waste as she constantly spews liquid after liquid onto her sheets which instantly gets ruined. The both of you didn’t care about it but rather mind your own business while you still extended her climax, achieving such heights of her vocals.

“God—just fuck m-me now, please…”

Your cock is aching and throbbing in need, and with the penultimate action making her see such stars, it’s time for the last and the main event to take place.

You ask her if she’s in good condition and she didn’t bother to assure you, so with her green light, you stepped onto the throttle and gave in to your deepest, carnal desires.

Standing up, you then give her backside a last look before you plunge your length inside her wet hole and immediately groan with its tightness, feeling like her walls are gripping your shaft with a Herculean effort that probably was the blessing in disguise. 

“You’re fucking tight, Yeji—this feels just right.” And it is too right to be true, and you love it.

“Stretch me out—fuck, you’re crazy.”

Lust ignites you and it serves such an everlasting fuel for what’s bound to happen, and you give in just like that. You started off slow, letting her get accustomed to your length as you bury the entirety of your shaft then withdraw with just the tip inside, showing such penetration that could make any girl’s mind go haywire.

It’s starting to get to her slowly in every thrust you do—the utter pleasure your cock brings was phenomenal and with her small whines could determine how she’s really feeling deep inside. She grips onto the bedsheets like her life depends on it and it’s only going to get better once you manage such a pace that will make her think of you and you only.

Her cunt tightens once you spanked that pristine skin of hers and then called out to let her know something, “I’ll own this cunt until you see the stars above, do you understand?”

Between her wails of pleasure is her ephemeral nod with your question, unable to speak up due to the stimulation that’s coursing through her. Every stroke you do causes such slaps that adds to the orchestra of her moans that can be possibly heard outside as her room is too puny to shackle such sinful sounds of sex. You grip her hips harshly and increase your pace, making you moan on how she clenches her velvety walls once your length hits it balls-deep inside her.

“Want me to be rough, Yeji?” You hammer your hips in a velocity that’s making her brain in shambles, unable to mutter a response after a second in which you didn’t like.

A small punishment would do the job, but this is rewarding for her and a statement by yours. “I asked you a question, didn’t I?”

Her breaths are ragged between your thrusts as she cries with your immediate barrage of spanks, causing her to finally answer you even with her mind unable to achieve such clear articulacy. “Yes, p-please—I want it, ow!”

Another spank onto those pristine skin of hers never fails to make you throb with how it jiggled with such harshness, and the marks that’s finally imprinted on the soft skin tells such roughness. As she grows accustomed with your length due to her repeated chants of pleasure, you quickly opted for what could raise such an experience.

If her mind is ultimately clouded with you and can’t think straight, then you’re the opposite, clearly adapting to the situation.

“Yeji…”

“Wha—ooh! Mffh—mmh!” Ragged breaths leave her mouth as she struggles to breath with what you’ve done—you opted for a leverage that asserts your domination over her making the long, black lace at the back of her neck deemed as a leash rather than an aesthetic of her outfit. She probably liked the fact of such risking playing between life and death thanks to the asphyxiation and it didn’t stop you, but rather prove a point. 

“You like being choked and used, slut?” Your words just made Yeji elicit more moans as she’s being tamed, controlled by you and god, the way she’s creaming against your rapidly ramming length tells you about her satisfaction. The sheets will probably rip off no matter how durable they are and lastly, it will be soaked with her own juices and that’s thanks to your own doing. Her feet then raise up in the air as you give a better angle of penetration, switching between the black lace and onto her legs for leverage.

Even though she's barely stripped from her clothing, her clothes really compliments her figure and you’d like to take this mental picture and etch it on the deepest parts of your brain—something worth remembering until the end of time. The way that she's a disheveled, ruined mess right now just fuels you to break her in half and you’re not going to stop until you’ve fulfilled such destiny.

You wanted your hands to be occupied onto something and not being idle most of the time and with such a completely ruined mess of a girl she is now, you’d love to add more of it. You then grab her wrists and command her to arch her back, in which she complies and immediately, your hands reach onto those perky breasts of hers with the clothing still in the way. You caress them and Yeji can vouch she could feel such intensity even with such stellar clothing being a nuisance but there’s nothing to worry about, not when you’re giving her absolutely everything to feel.

You didn’t stop there as you leaned your frame closer to her while hammering her tight cunt repeatedly and utter the words, “This cunt is mine now, Yeji.”

She nodded and exclaimed a faint yes as you gave her pecs onto her shoulders, letting her know how much you love every single inch of hers and how you’re marking your own territory. Between your kisses is a feeling that something’s building up and you can feel it with the way her walls pulsate around your shaft—you know she's close and it’s up for you to let her wants prevail.

There wasn’t any choice and you love to see Yeji writhe as you give her such thrusts before her cardinal end. 

“I know you’re dying to cum—” You invite her to give in as she moans with your words, urging such a release that could let her see the things you wanted her to have a sight of. “—so cum on this cock. Cum for me.”

Your words act like a lever that opens up her reservoir and it feels like a tsunami surging around your length. With multiple cries to spare, you wanted to make her feel something exquisite while achieving her own orgasm, letting you finger avert her chin facing you, against her shoulder as you kissed her lips intimately. Time felt slow as the both of you locked lips and to ride off her high, you slowed down because you still wanted her to feel such intense gratification through her awaited climax.

“I n-never felt that good in my entire life.” Yeji’s breaths were jagged, as she recovers from her orgasm even with your lengthy still penetrating and possibly destroying her insides. Even with a possibly mind-fucked Yeji, she knew what you wanted all along and didn’t hesitate to ask you about it. “Aren’t you close?”

“Well, if you didn’t cum, I would’ve come first.”

An audible gasp resonated in your ears as it piqued her willingness to help you, and it was evident in her tone. “I could feel it too—just fuck me silly again and just cum.”

She recovered fast because of the evident change of her tone, and you, still a bit puzzled and hesitant knowing she may want a load deep inside her. “Don’t want it inside—”

“Then do it in my mouth—you fucking which hole is now your choice.”

Her invitation is just persuasive and alluring and it never fails you to fall a victim for. Knowing how she wanted it, as much as you wanna bother such another session being between her legs, you’d want to fulfill her wants and it’s safer with the help of a great oral ending.

“On your knees then, and open your mouth. I’m going to fuck your face.” You let her position and prepare herself for what's about to come as surprisingly, her legs are still working fine after all of the havoc you’ve brought into her.

Yeji closes her eyes, her mouth agape, ready for the taking as you stroke your length in its absolute vigor and there she goes, taking you again for the second time. This time, you take control by grabbing her ponytail that’s shockingly intact even with the ruckus you made her be in earlier. She’s taking you like a good girl as you ram into her face with abandon, skin slapping signaling the constant harshness you bring and it is perfect. She gagged and you didn’t care, yet she managed to tame it but wasn’t successful as always—you praised her attempts and wasn’t close to being futile. Her nails dug into the skin of your thighs as she let it be the leverage onto your constant rummage in her throat, and she welcomed every thrust with a gleeful demeanor, locking her gaze towards you.

She cries, tears running down her cheek as she was a disheveled mess and you’re proud of what you’ve done. You could feel the familiar sensation tingling near your stomach and a better way to end such a monumental note is giving everything you can. 

The unstoppable force meets the immovable object, as such velocity is unparalleled, hammering her tight throat like it’s her cunt and within seconds from her last gag you could feel everything coming down to this moment. Here it goes: Yeji chokes yet manages to keep your length all the way in, you groaning and calling her name like a chant and of course, the awaited climax that filled her throat up to the brim. You stayed for five more seconds, burying your length as her arms writhe with her repeated gags and then, pulls out immediately, strings of saliva adding to the mess she is and of course, the image of Yeji almost choking out your load but manages to compose herself to swallow it all, humming gleefully as she not get to taste the entirety of your delicious load.

“Like I said—it’s fucking delicious—hah.” The both of you caught your own breaths yet Yeji shows the struggle evidently. Still on her knees, she managed to show what you’ve done as your reward and the last thing you just saw her go is gulp down all of it in one go, into her stomach. She initiated the last dance with her hands grabbing your shaft, then directing it onto her mouth in order to clean the mess she made onto it. You groan with the sensitive surge she brings you, thankfully her tongue doing the work but you don't complain as within seconds, she ends her oral assault and it makes you feel spectacular for a long while.

You cup her cheeks, admiring the glamorous mess you made in which she unhesitantly neaten with her utmost capabilities. “You’re so damn pretty, Yeji.”

“You too.”

It was mutual at this moment and you never knew it would end like this but her voice wants to tell you that something isn’t over, yet.

“Help me clean up?”

And it was a hint, just out of curiosity, you’ll probably pull the trigger because how can you not refuse her invitation?

---

After countless sleepless nights and tumultuous days, you find yourself at the top of the world, and what better way to end this is just to go home, lay down and reminisce what a day this has been.

“The lights are pretty, huh?” Yeji interrupts your moment with her voice, and she locks her eyes towards yours, staring deeply into your soul as you fall onto it yet manage to snap back to reality.

“Yeah, it is—also, I just can’t comprehend how we ended up this way.” Yeji’s on the same boat as you and you could feel it in your nerves. This felt like a fever dream and you loved every second of it.

“Maybe that’s how destiny works, huh?”

You scoff, as your lips curled up a faint smile and muttered, “Maybe it is and yeah, I should leav—”

“Leave?” Yeji pouts as she inches herself closer onto yours, holding your wrist as her tone hints at her disappointment. “Don’t you wanna bother and stay just for this night?”

You can’t resist her, you absolutely can’t as you don’t want to be the bearer of bad news that will make her feel awkward.

You have a choice and you’ll stick with that… in her favor.

You smile sincerely, and Yeji’s holistic demeanor appears, “Okay, how can I resist you?”

“Up for you to find out.”

Maybe she was good, but honestly, she’s great. She is partly a monster and partly an angel, and you’ll live in those worlds together as you find your soulless heart beating rapidly for the first time in a long while.

You’re completely invigorated, and you’ll embrace this new chapter that opened.

“She’s good, she’s good—she’s great.”

---

You continue ruminating about the day you’ve had, and every moment was worth remembering. You smiled in your victorious attempts, which is having her number on your phone and sleeping with her through the night. As Yeji does her hygiene in the bathroom, a buzz on your phone piques your attention, and it was no other than the devil that made yourself look like an angel despite what you descended yourself into.

kim_chaewon on 23:15 - “Guess I shouldn’t have doubted you huh? Well done with the second phase, meet me tomorrow afternoon for further details. Enjoy your night for now—we’re still not done.”

She received it damn well minutes ago and made her eat up her words, but you’re still clearly within the base of the iceberg, and you’re still starting your remarkable journey.

“Hah… Of course we aren’t…” There was no surprise with that as you muttered in response to her text.

Yet there are multiple questions lingering in your mind: How did she know about this? How would she know if you’re lying or not? What may happen tomorrow? How long will this take? 

You could never answer those unless you figure things out, and let Chaewon introduce you to more of what’s possible between both worlds: you and everyone else’s, including hers.

[nereidprinc3ss]

relax

in which spencer helps university student reader de-stress after a particularly exhausting assignment

18+ (smut) warnings: fingering, overstimulation, happy crying, lowkey softdom spencer, slight d/s dynamics, reader is referred to as a girl, ????idk i've never had to tag for smut before lols wc: 2624 a/n: been doing some insane literary cooking. lots of smut AND more fluff in the works (all uni reader... lol... ). idk if i love this but again need to fucking get it out of my word doc so here u go, PLEASE lmk if you like it!!

You don’t even realize the room has gone completely dark until Spencer comes in the front door and flicks on the light. 

“Why did you do that?” you snap immediately, looking up from your laptop screen for the first time in potentially hours, blinking hard as your eyes painfully adjust. Your boyfriend gives you an odd look. 

“Hello to you too...” 

“I’m sorry. Hi. How was dinner?” 

“It was good,” he says, crossing the room to the couch that has been your entire world for the past five hours. You sigh, releasing some of the tension in your shoulders when he leans down to kiss your head and set down a to-go box on the coffee table. “Have you moved since I left?” 

“...no,” you admit, moving your eyes dejectedly to the keyboard.  

“You made progress,” he appeases, leaning over you to angle the laptop upward. Immediately you wrench it away, holding it protectively against your chest. 

“Stop! I don’t want you to read it yet!” 

“I could help you with it though,” he pleads, bracing a hand on the arm of the couch. You look up into his hazel eyes, where he’s definitely playing up the puppy dog factor. His tie brushes your stomach, and he smells like lavender and clove and-- 

“You need to go away,” you realize, snapping back to reality and shrinking into the couch, away from him—trying to escape his all-encompassing sensory presence.  

“Wh- I just got back!” he scoffs, straightening. 

“You’re distracting me,” you accuse, throwing him a baleful look. 

“I’m literally offering to help you.” 

“And I’m respectfully declining because I care too much about your opinion to show you this essay until it’s less terrible. I really just need a couple more hours to finish it, please?” 

Spencer sighs, regarding your pitiful state before moving to sit down next to you. Automatically you move your legs out of the way before settling them in his lap and damn it he’s supposed to be going away. Your iron grip on the laptop involuntarily loosens a little as his hands begin to run back and forth over your legs. No—you must stay focused.  

“Spencer,” you whine, flopping your head back. You let the implied complaint hang in the air. 

“You’ve been writing all day. Your brain is exhausted, and your synapses aren’t firing at a rate that is intellectually productive.” 

“What is the point of having a brain if I can’t even use it half the time!” you almost-shout, pressing the palms of your hands into your eyes until you see fireworks.  

The couch shifts and you feel the warm, robotic weight of the laptop unpin you as Spencer lifts it from your lap. “Don’t read it,” you beg, watching through parted fingers as he sets it on the coffee table, and relaxing slightly when he settles back into the couch.  

“Come here,” he says, holding out an arm. Too mentally exhausted to do anything but comply, you pull yourself up just enough to fall into him. Immediately he wraps his arms around you, one hand slipping under your shirt to rub your back in hypnotizing passes. “I think you burnt yourself out,” he mutters. 

You nod into his shoulder, surrendering yourself to his warmth, letting yourself sink into a lavender-clove fog, wanting nothing more than to dissolve into it. The darkness behind your eyes glows an inviting amber, threatening to pull you under...  

But the essay... 

“Stop thinking about the essay,” he demands. 

“But I have so much to do,” you sigh against his jacket, the words coming out muffled. 

“The best thing you can do now is give your brain a rest. I promise you you’re not making that paper any better if you’re exhausted.” 

“I am not exhausted,” you insist, although your eyes are still closed, “I’m just really stressed.”  

Spencer hums, continuing to rub your back.  

“Do you need me to help you relax?” he says innocently. 

Oh? 

One of your eyes opens to peer up at him suspiciously. He sweeps some of your hair out of your face. 

“Because I would be happy to.” A moment passes—him looking down at you fondly; you wondering if you’re picking up what he’s putting down. 

“And how would you go about doing that?” you ask suspiciously. 

“Orgasms reduce tension and stress and improve brain function.” 

Damn. Why did the nerdiest, most un-sexy pickup line ever just turn you on?

You groan, burying your face further into his shirt—mostly to hide any trace of a blush. 

“You know what else would reduce stress and improve brain functioning? Taking an Adderall and finishing my fucking essay.”  

“Angel, you're such a smart girl, and you are fully capable of doing whatever you set your mind to—but I will lock your laptop in my gun safe before I let you look at that essay again tonight.” He speaks so softly, and his fingers are still gently combing through your messy hair... all in all, you put up a good fight, right? Maybe you should just listen to him...

“... fine.” you say eventually, reluctant to give in too quickly even though the idea quickly has filled your stomach with butterflies. 

“Fine?” he says, pausing his motions as you turn your head just enough to look up at him. “Sounds like you don’t really want it, baby. Maybe we should just go to sleep. Or I could take you back to your-” 

“Spence,” you whine, gently grabbing the front of his shirt. Now he’s going to make you beg? As if it wasn’t his idea? Those puppy dog eyes of his are deceiving. 

“You’re gonna have to do better than that,” he sighs, hand moving from your hair to your outer thigh. 

“Please?” you whisper, dignity forgotten as you look up at him imploringly. 

“Lean back, sweet girl,” he says, helping you adjust your position til you’re lying against his chest, legs sprawled across the couch. Your head lolls on his shoulder, intoxicated by his close proximity. “Perfect. Such a good listener.” 

Normally, you’d be quick to make a defensive remark, but with the way he’s slowly hiking your shirt up, running his hands over your sides so lightly it gives you goosebumps—you're really in no position to argue. Your eyes flutter shut as his hands grow bolder in their explorations, crossing your stomach, fingers just slipping under the waistband of your shorts and skimming over your hipbones before coming back up. 

“Does that feel good?” he murmurs, and you nod lazily, apparently losing access to your language facilities after running them dry all day. Unfortunately, that doesn’t seem good enough for your boyfriend. “Do you remember when the last time I touched you like this was?” 

Through the hazy blur of your exhaustion, you try to think back. Was it... two days ago? Three? More? 

“Almost a week ago,” he supplies the answer for you when you take too long. What? That can’t be right. 

But when you think about it harder... it is right. It was right before finals week started.  

An errant hand straying up your torso distracts you. “Do you remember what I did?” 

You flush. 

“You... yeah,” is the best you can offer, too flustered to say exactly what he did to your body. That stray hand moves over your breast. Your back arches just slightly at the stimulation through the thin fabric of your bra.  

Thankfully, he lets you off the hook.  

“I made you cum three times, right?” 

“Mhm,” you hum through closed lips, tense with anticipation as he finally slides both hands down to your shorts and wordlessly directs you to lift your hips so he can pull them all the way off along with your underwear. 

“You’ve been so busy lately, huh. Working so hard.” 

You unconsciously drop your bent legs open, brain too foggy to be insecure about how utterly bare you are—allowing him to slowly rub up and down your inner thigh. 

“I’m gonna make you feel good, honey. I don’t think three times was enough for such a stressful week.” 

You gasp when his fingers finally brush your clit, whimpering slightly when they just barely skim your entrance before tracing the wetness back up.  

“Give me your hand,” Spencer says, taking his own from between your legs and holding it up. You don’t even think about it, releasing your grip on the arm he now has wrapped around you and holding it out for him. At this point, you’d do anything he tells you to without hesitation.  

He takes the proffered hand, gently guiding it back between your legs. Your fingers meet slick, soft warmth. “Do you feel how wet you are?” 

“Yeah,” you breathe, seeing how your fingers glisten when you pull them away. His remain, running slowly up and down your clit. Your brain seems to be vibrating in your skull as warmth spreads throughout your body. 

“Who’s that for?” 

“You, Spencer,” you whimper. He hums in approval before the room falls into silence as you both watch his teasing intently, your breath baited as you try to be patient. But your body isn’t with the program, you keep twisting slightly, your hips cant upward. “Please, please,” the words escape on a held exhalation as you finally break, arching your back against him as your search for more friction.  

Without warning, he sinks two fingers inside you. The slight stretch after not having taken anything in a week scratches an itch you didn’t even know you had, and you let out a broken moan. 

“I know, honey. You’re so good, I know.” Spencer kisses your head as he speaks over your cry, barely moving his fingers for a few moments while you get comfortable. 

Still you’re not ready for it when he withdraws and pushes back in. 

“Look at that,” he breathes. 

“Oh, fuck,” you choke, watching how your arousal completely coats his fingers as he slowly, slowly begins to fuck you with them. 

Again you feel the vibrations in his chest as he laughs slightly—probably at your earlier insistence that you didn’t desperately want this. The laughter fades as you both become entranced by the sight of his fingers disappearing into you, and your stomach twists with pleasure. His pace remains languid, and he seems to delight in the filthy, wet sounds his hand is producing between your legs.  

“You okay, baby?” he asks after a moment, seemingly snapping out of some trance. 

“Uh huh,” you whimper. One particular drag of his fingers at just the right angle has you dizzy, and then he’s speeding up. Your jaw drops at the change in pace and your hips chase his hand, wanting even more. 

“So pretty,” he mutters as his other hand moves to spread you open.  

You attempt to shut your legs around his wrist, but instead he just ruts his fingers deeper into you, palm pressed against your clit. You attempt to twist away from the extreme stimulation, but he doesn’t allow it. 

“Too much,” you squeak, bucking your hips inadvertently. 

“No it’s not,” he states, like you’re talking about the weather. 

“Spencer, I really c- ah- can't!” 

“It feels like a lot, huh?” he asks soothingly, not letting up one bit. 

“Yes!” you cry, eyes stinging as tears begin to well. 

“You’re okay, angel. It’s just been a while.” 

You are so completely fucked. Each stroke of his hand feels like an electric jolt through your whole body. It is too much, but at the same time, pleasure is pooling deep in your stomach and at the base of your spine and you never want him to stop. You throw your head back onto Spencer’s shoulder, eyes screwed shut.  

“Relax,” he mutters, carefully bearing down the pressure across your waist with his arm to try and keep you from squirming. 

A rhythmic whine breaks through the barrier of your sealed lips as you focus all your energy into taking it, when the all-consuming need to kiss him hits you. You twist your neck to look up at him, observing the furrow of his brow and the way he’s tucked his bottom lip into a bite. Thankfully he notices your movement—his eyes dart from your own half-lidded gaze to your lips and he understands what you want. 

The kiss is messy and the angle is awkward and you’re moaning into his mouth half the time anyway, but it feels so good to have his lips moving on yours that you don’t care about any of it.  

“I—ah,” you cry into him, unable to form a coherent thought as your stomach drops like you’re mounting the peak of a roller coaster. 

His fingers again change their angle and he finds the spot inside you that makes your legs spasm. Attempting to hold in whatever noises you were making is now futile—the whimpers and pants turn to full-fledged keening moans interspersed with taut silences as you fail to breathe properly.  

Your wrench your gaze and lips away from Spencer to watch through a blurry haze the rapid movement of his hand between your bare legs, the way your hips buck and twist and the way your leg bends as he hooks his free hand under your knee and hoists it toward your chest. 

“You’re doing so well, honey. Being so good for me.” 

Moisture spills over from your eyes, tracing down your cheeks and down your neck as you begin to come with no warning and a desperate, broken cry. 

A string of praise from Spencer underscores your pleading moans, but you can’t focus on anything other than the buzzing warmth emanating from your core, the bright, pulsing white that blinds you and the feeling of stardust flowing through your veins. 

Your boyfriend continues pumping his fingers slowly in and out of you for a blissful few moments, before sensing the tail-end of your orgasm and bringing his fingers up to rub lazy circles over your clit. Aftershocks resonate from the hypersensitive area and make you clamp your legs shut around his hand as your toes curl and you attempt to squirm out of his grip. 

“Done! I’m done,” you squeak, rocking your hips back and forth to try and escape his toying. 

“Okay, okay,” he soothes, relieving the pressure of his hand between your legs and moving it to run over your stomach as you come down. 

You lie in silence for a minute, enjoying the liquid sensation weighing down your muscles and basking in the warm afterglow of your orgasm.  

“Shit,” you breathe shakily after a moment. Spencer chuckles. You manage to turn yourself over, laying your cheek on his shoulder and slipping your arms under his waist. He looks down at you as he moves on to massaging your back and bare hips, eyes full of warm adoration.  

“Feel better?” 

You hum an affirmation, wiping your eyes on his shirt. 

“Oh, honey, did I make you cry?” 

You laugh into his chest and nod, a few stray tears leaking from your shut eyes. “It’s okay. Not sad tears.” 

“What kind of tears?” 

“Orgasm tears,” you mumble, a tidal wave of exhaustion you’d been fighting all day finally washing over you. 

“That makes sense. Orgasms can be cathartic or even therapeutic depending on your head space. Major losses and life changes are often associated with sexual dysfunction but the opposite is actually just as if not more common. A spike in libido can—” 

Spencer pauses, looking down to see that you’re either asleep or close to it, and smiles to himself. You’ll probably be mad about it when you wake up, but he had to get you to stop thinking about that paper somehow. 

[whimsiwitchy]

Controversially Young Girlfriend (part two)

Hugh Jackman x popstar!reader 

series masterlist & main masterlist

summary: y/n is a globally beloved pop star. She is known for her talent and dedication towards her craft. Recently, she has also been known for her preference for older men. After a breakup with her former older boyfriend, she had a run in with the hottest dilf right now, Hugh Jackman. Y/n tried to warn him, but what can she say, she has an effect on hot, older men. 

warnings: age gap (23/55), cursing, y/n used, implied shorter reader, afab reader, she/her pronouns. 

warnings will change as the story progresses! all descriptions of real people in this story are FAKE. I do not know these people and this is purely fiction. Please let me know if I missed anything!! <3

authors note: I truly appreciate every single one of you who has enjoyed this story and has shown it love. I want to have a slow start to things so I hope everyone appreciates a good slow burn lol. enjoy! <3

part two: pathetic

London was absolutely beautiful. You’d always dreamed of coming here- simply exploring anywhere out of America really. It was so fun being in a foreign place hearing silly accents all day, you loved it. You wanted nothing more than to do a world tour for your debut album but your label decided to play it safe by only touring around North America. Now that you were here, you dreamed bigger and would try your hardest to gain the fan base it took to have a world tour. Traveling was honestly one of the best perks of being famous. 

famous

It was a word you were still getting used to as it almost felt shallow to refer to yourself as such. Though it was true. You were famous. Having that interaction with Hugh and Ryan yesterday made the reality sink in even more. Two men who had been in the industry for decades knew who you were, it was mind boggling to put it simply. The embarrassment seemed to keep creeping in when you would remember your interaction between the two men yesterday. The yelp of surprise and the quick, but loud, ‘holy shit’ that was thrown from your mouth involuntarily made you cringe. Hugh asking about Pedro was something you weren’t prepared for at all either. It made sense for him to ask, if he was a close friend of Pedro’s then your name being brought up didn’t seem like the oddest thing. However, never meeting Hugh before, you wished the conversation could have been different. 

Ugh stupid hot, tall, older, Australian man that could sing. He was literally everything you found attractive bundled up into one man. You had a brief obsession with The Greatest Showman, as every theater kid did, but your celebrity crush of the movie was Zac Efron. If only freshman you could see current you, she’d probably laugh. 

Hugh had been on your mind all night and hadn’t left since you woke up this morning. If you could remember, you’d be certain he was the focus of your dreams too. The following and the comment was shocking to say the least. From Ryan’s words, they were fans but why did he follow you after he had met you instead of before. Ha, as you think about it more, it probably wasn’t even him. It was more than likely someone who was hired to run his socials, just like the person on your team that posted that photo for you. You were definitely overthinking it all…This morning when you were brushing your teeth, you kept trying to remember the feeling of his big hand on the base of your spine. It was all a bit pathetic. 

“Helloooo…earth to y/n.” Ashley, your best friend, says as she snaps her fingers in front of your face. “Are you going to tell me what has you all spaced out or do I have to deal with you moping around this entire trip?” There's a hint of annoyance in her voice. 

Ashley has been your best friend since middle school. She was always your number one supporter, so in return, you take her almost everywhere with you. Of course you invited her to London and of course she planned an entire itinerary around your busy work schedule. Her company was appreciated but it was impossible to hide your emotions from her, making moments like this difficult. 

“I’m sorry. It’s nothing really, it can wait until later.” If the two of you weren’t sitting in the middle of a small cafe, you would have told her every single thought that sat in your brain, but you couldn’t. You never knew who was listening in on your conversations. That became something you had to get used to, not being able to exist in public. It usually wasn’t too bad, for example, you could sit in a cafe with your best friend but sometimes things got out of hand and you couldn’t even walk down the street.

“Okay, you better.” She gave you an understanding nod. “So, I bought us tickets to go on the London Eye at 2pm then I thought we could go grab a late lunch or dinner, whatever you-” You’re looking at her and nodding trying your best to pay attention but you can’t. You hated the way one singular interaction with Hugh had your entire day scrambled. If you ever saw him again, you’d have to tell him off for being so hot and ruining the fun London trip you had planned. 

—

The wait for the London Eye ended up taking an extra forty five minutes and Ashley was pissed. She was a very schedule oriented person, one minute off and she’s stressed the fuck out. The entire time we waited, she complained and would have had the king on the phone if you hadn't stopped her. Her mood was unchanged by the time you stepped into your private cart.

“If I tell you all of my boy drama, would it make you calm down and enjoy the ride?” You ask slyly as you look down at the water below as the wheel starts to move the bubble you’re sitting in higher. 

She gasps and her eyes go wide.

“BOY DRAMA???” She screams out, her previous negative mood disappearing and her eyes light up with excitement.

You sigh as you gather your thoughts. 

“Well..it’s not really drama. I may or may not have a teensy crush on someone.” 

“Oh my god!! Who is it? Have I met them?” 

“Uh no. I actually just met him-” She’s cutting you off before you can finish your sentence. 

“YOU SLUT!” She yells, pointing an accusing finger at you. 

“What the hell Ash? I didn’t even tell yo-” 

“It’s Hugh fucking Jackman isn’t it? Stacy said she saw the way you looked at him yesterday. Jesus y/n, you don’t even know the guy.” She’s rambling on, judgment clear in her voice. 

“Since when are you and Stacy on talking terms?” You purposely ignore everything else she said. Ashley was jealous of Stacy for awhile. When you asked her about it she claimed that Stacy was trying to steal her best friend away. It took a lot of reassurance that the relationship you had with Stacy was work before friendship- and if she had become a good friend along the way, that was something you weren’t going to tell Ashley. 

“We can be civil when it comes to concerns for you.” 

“And what concerns are there lately?” 

“Huh… Stacy let me in on your little conversation yesterday about swearing off men for a little bit but once Hugh stepped through the door, she said that she could tell that idea was out the window.” She’s trying her hardest to keep a straight face but there was a slight smirk peeking through. 

“Oh my fucking god, you guys are so dramatic. Yes he’s fine as FUCK but like you said I dont know him. I probably won’t ever see him again.” You sigh at the end. You really wanted to see him again. 

“What even happened that has you wrapped around his finger already?” You don’t speak for a moment as you think about how to say your thoughts without feeling dumb. 

“Please don’t tell me you only have a crush on him because he’s hot…You take your crushes too far for that.” There's a look of panic resting on her face. 

“He uh…well…you know how we took the pictures yesterday for BBC?” You ask and she's nodding. “I thought he looked good but I swear I wasn’t thinking anything irrational. It was when we had to take those stupid pictures and he rested his hand on my back…Ash, I swear there was a spark or something. It felt so… I don’t know…so.. right?” The cart you’re in is sitting at the top of the wheel and you’re taking advantage of the view while you wait for Ashley to respond. When she doesn’t, you turn to look at her. She’s staring blankly at you, giving you slow blinks. 

“What?” Your voice is soft, barely above a whisper. 

“Y/n, how old is he?” Her expression is unchanging. 

“Fifty five…I googled it last night..” You were feeling ashamed of your behavior. You felt like a kid with a stupid school crush. Pathetic. 

“Hm, that’s your oldest yet. What’s next, eighty or ninety five is probably more to your taste huh?” She’s making fun of you and it hurts. You know she’s never approved of your taste in men but you can’t really help it. It’s not like you block out guys your age, they just don’t satisfy you. They’re mean, boring, and losers. You wanted a real man. Someone who was established in life and could take care of you. 

“Whatever..” You let out softly. The cart was nearing the bottom once again and you were ready to be free of the room of gossip and judgment. 

“Y/n… you know I only want what’s best for you. I mean look at what happened with Pedro and all the other men before him.” She’s sincere and you understand her point of view but you wished she would understand yours as well. 

“I know Ash. It’s just a stupid crush anyways.” It was more of a reminder to yourself rather than to Ashley. She was right, you did have a habit of taking your crushes too far. You always had to try to get the guy who held your attention but you were confident in who you were. Most times it worked but a break from dating was what was best for you. 

—

To apologize for being mean, Ashley was currently on the phone with some poor worker from one of Gordon Ramsay’s restaurants. She already made a reservation for tomorrow night but thought tonight would be better to cheer you up. You tried to reason with her by telling her that there were plenty of great restaurants in London we could get into tonight, but she insisted on having a very touristy dinner tonight instead of tomorrow, like it made any of a difference. 

“I know the reservation is for tomorrow but miss y/l/n needs it for tonight.” Her voice is strong and unwavering, determined to get a table tonight. She’s been throwing your name around left and right hoping that someone would know who you were. It all felt too pretentious for your liking but you couldn’t control Ashley when she was like this. 

You were sprawled across your hotel bed, scrolling through instagram. The voices inside your head were screaming to look at Hugh’s page, just a peak. Last night after you saw the comment, you practically threw your phone across the room, too afraid to look at it again. You're honestly thankful for that reaction because who knows how long you would have stayed awake thinking about it and diving into his life. You did make that quick google search to see just how old he was but that was the end of your exploration. 

Your fingers moved faster than your brain could process, typing his name into the search bar and clicking his profile the second it popped up. You didn’t have to scroll far into his account before your heart started to race. You clicked on a mirror selfie he had posted of him in his wolverine costume with sunglasses on. The pose and the caption really showed his age but for your sick brain, it made everything about him even sexier. You cautiously swiped out of that picture to prevent an accidental like. The next picture to catch your attention was one of Hugh in the trunk of a car. Your eyes almost jump out of your face with your tongue rolling onto the ground like the cartoons. The size of his arm was insane. You weren’t one to go for muscular men, but Hugh could choke you out with that arm any time he wanted to. His smile was so dreamy. You hadn’t seen Deadpool and Wolverine yet, not really having interest before, but now you might have to take a solo trip to the movies. You were cooked.

“Thank you, I’m glad we were able to come to an agreement. Yes tonight at 8pm.” Ashley is hanging up the phone and lets out a high pitched squeal. 

“How do you do that?” You’ve always been amazed at her negotiating skills and her ability to get whatever she wants. 

“Natural talent..also having a famous bestie doesn’t hurt.” She giggles and checks the time. Her laughter turns to a gasp. “We have to get ready, it’s already 6pm!” She’s gathering her things and as she’s rushing out of the door, she’s telling you that she’ll be back soon to get dolled up together. 

You had to learn how to style yourself over the past year of being in the limelight. Fashion was something you had been interested in but in Minden, if you dressed too out of the ordinary, people would stare. You shied away from it for longer than necessary and only recently learned how to express yourself freely thanks to your stylist, Kat. For dinner, you picked out a lengthy fitted black dress. It had the prettiest floral pattern that covered it with butterflies popping up here and there. What sold you on the dress though were the two frilly pieces of fabric that hung on either side of the dress. It was stunning and it looked even better on you. You decided on letting your hair sit in its natural state, not caring to put much effort into it. 

When Ashley came tumbling back into your room, wearing a red fitted dress, the two of you put some music on and got to work. You weren’t going for a super complicated makeup look, simply deciding on a small winged eyeliner, mascara, a dark blood red lip stain, and a hint of blush. Layering a few necklaces and adding some hooped earrings, your look was almost complete. All that was left were a pair of black heels that had two strings that you effortlessly swirled around your calf tying it into a cute bow at the top. 

“You look smoking hot! Let me take a picture of you.” Ashley whistles and grabs your phone to take a few shots. She was right, you looked good. You decided to post one of the pictures of your instagram story with a small caption that said ‘dinner time 😋’. 

What you loved about Ashley is that she took your fame with a grain of salt most of the time. When you wanted to take an uber or taxi somewhere, she never complained. You often got tired of taking private cars everywhere, wanting a little normality when you could get it. The uber ride over was a quiet one, both of you too focused on the view outside of your own windows, soaking in the reality of being in Europe. 

The restaurant was gorgeous. It wasn’t over the top fancy with normal everyday people littering the dining area, it was nice. Ashley and yourself were in quiet conversation as you looked over the menu. Feeling adventurous, you asked the waitress what she recommended and you ended up ordering the dish. Sipping on your espresso martini, you took a moment to feel grateful for the life you got to live. 

“Oh you have got to be kidding me.” Ashley is sighing with a slight roll of her eyes. 

“Good evening y/n.” A voice is approaching behind you before you could question Ashleys sudden annoyance. It was a voice you recognized, hearing it the day before. You turn around to see Hugh standing behind your left shoulder and you stand up to greet him properly. You’ve gotten accustomed to hugging almost everyone you meet nowadays, you lean in without thinking. 

“Oh my god! Hi Hugh.” There's a big grin on your face. It felt like a sign that you were seeing him again. 

“I don’t want to bother you ladies for too long. I recognized your dress and wanted to come say hi. I also wanted to apologize for bringing up Pedro yesterday, it was rude of me to do without even introducing myself first.” He lets out in his gruff voice, accent strong. His arm and yours are still interlocked in a weird side hug type of position. 

“It’s totally fine, you didn’t know.” You look into his eyes with utmost sincerity. “Oh uh, this is my best friend Ashley. Ashley, this is Hugh.” He breaks the side hug to reach to shake Ashley’s hand. 

“Nice to meet you.” Hugh lets out and Ashley responds with a short ‘you too.’ You give her a look that says ‘be nice’. 

“Well, I’ll get out of your hair. It was really nice seeing you again sweetheart.” He smiles down at you.

“It was nice seeing you again as well.” 

“Here let me.” He’s motioning to your chair. You take a seat and he's pushing it forward for you. 

“Thank you.” Looking back at him with a shy smile. He gives your shoulder a squeeze of acknowledgment and he’s walking away. 

“Maybe the universe does want you with a man old enough to be your grandfather. I mean what are the fucking odds of running into him at a Gordon Ramsay restaurant.” Ashley lets out in total disbelief. 

You don’t say anything, you give a sly shrug instead. The rest of the dinner is tame. The food was delicious and you felt woozy from the martinis you’d been downing. Ashley let you know half way through the dinner that Hugh was sitting not to far from us and that he ‘had a fucking staring problem’, her words exactly. It made you giddy to think he was looking over here and if you begged Ashley to trade seats with you it was no one else's business. She obviously refused and you spent the rest of your time focusing on your friend, with Hugh sitting in the corner of your mind. 

When you got back to the hotel, you immediately stripped yourself from your heels and dress. Laying in the bed in nothing but your undergarments, you opened instagram and took a look at your story one more time, wanting to see just how good you looked. It was shallow for sure but it made you feel good. You saw the hearts flooding the bottom of the screen and decided to swipe up to see who had liked it. As you scrolled nothing really caught your attention until that name caught your eye again.

“I recognized your dress and wanted to come say hi.” 

What the actual fuck.

thank you for reading <3

part three

series taglist: @chronicallybubbly @spideybv28 @pear-1206 @robertthehoover @reidsworld @bloody-bunni666 @quillycrow @kythefangirl25 @bluetimeombre

I think I got everyone tagged that asked to be! If you want to be added/removed let me know. <3

[mysicklove]

𝐅𝐈𝐗 𝐌𝐄

DAY 2: SUB SPACE + MOMMY KINK

With: Satoru Gojo

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Sub! Gojo, Fem? reader (no pronouns just use of names: mommy and mama), unreleastic portrayal of sub space, mentions of BDSM (rough treatment, degradation,whips, mistress/master use), safeword use (at the end), lots of cooing, Gojo unable to think properly, praise, comfort, clingy/needy Gojo

A/N: this was actually really fun to write! i did a little research on what subspace feels like, and it says it varies from person to person, but it is a sort of euphoric experience. sooo idk! lol. also, a lot of ppl r here for gojos personality, and I feel bad bc he is not like his usual self in this bc of his headspace...dont hate me gojo simps

Gojo Satoru is kinky. Plain and simple. He has tried many different things throughout his lifetime, and he is now confident enough in many different types of sexual play. He spends way too much time on the internet buying all sorts of toys, cuffs, ropes, whips, just to build his secret obsession. He has been with many people, and has always pulled them down to the dark side with him. 

But through it all, he has never found a partner to really push him to his limits. They all get too scared to hurt him, and call their safeword too early. They get uncomfortable when he sobs for mercy, or in other situations, begs for more pain. Gojo doesn't want to be just treated harshly, he wants to be broken. His standards are higher than most.

And finally his dreams came true when he met you. You've been into BDSM for years now, and even if the two of you are dating, you have a strict contract of rules you must obey for eachothers safety. It was cute, he was practically trembling in excitement when he saw the agreement, signing his hame sloppily, and waiting for your next move.

It was strange seeing someone so cheery and upbeat turn into a different breed during a scene. He was long passed the brat now, every defining thought fucked out of him. He's been slapped around, beaten, scolded, forced to orgasm, and humiliated in the past two hours. He has never had anyone treat him this rough. 

A huge part of him loved it, and a small part of him twinged in fear whenever he heard you begin to move again. It sent a multitude of thoughts to his brain, What now? Are you going to hurt him? Was he being good now? Another punishment? 

His blue eyes follow your every movement, and he flinches when you bring your hand up to his face, expecting another slap. You chuckle at the movement, gently petting his face. It takes him a second to realize what is happening, but from there, he melts into your hold. He presses himself deeper into your hand, eyes heavy from exhaustion.

Satoru accomplished his goal though. He was, for the first time ever, wrecked. His hair is matted against his head, damp from sweat. His body is covered in hickeys, bitemarks, bruises, scratches, and marks from the flogger. He was trembling, muscles contracting every couple of seconds without permission. Drools coats his lips, and it starts to drip down his mouth and onto his chin. His eyes seem to be in a different world, cloudy, and half lidded. His cock lays spent against his thigh, flushed red, and leaking just the last of his cum.

But even through it all, he's smiling at you. It’s a fucked out sort of grin, lazy, but content. His cheek is pressed against your palm, and he's nuzzling into it, basking in the softness of your touch, contrasting your earlier actions. “There ya go. You doing all right, Satoru?”

He blinks at you, slow, and thoughtless. “Yeah.”

You climb onto the bed next to him, brushing his hair back affectionately, and a little worriedly. He looked rather beat, and his exhausted eyes made you want to end the session now. “Alright, lets clean you up, and get you to bed,” You soothe, hands rubbing at his thighs, hoping your touch brings him comfort.

Immediately he pulls away, a small pout on his face. “Noooooo,” He uncharacteristically whines, grabbing at your hand. “Wanna…Wanna go some more. I'm doing good, right Mommy? No more punishments,” He pleads, tears coating his eyes. “Reward. Wanna reward, pleaseeee.”

Mommy wasn't todays title. You were called mistress, and master today solely. His words made your eyes widen, and you instantaneously knew he was deep into the subspace. You've seen glimpses of it, the way he becomes uncharacteristically obedient and he gets slightly giggly, probably from the light headed feeling, but he looked deep into his now. His words dragged out, and his body was obviously spent, but still he craved your approval; he wanted nothing more than to please you now. 

Affection, love and care is what he needs right now and you were happy to provide him with it. So, you straddle his lap, and place kisses on every surface you can touch. His body is warm, and he goes slack against your hold, mouth falling open. “Do you want to cum again, ‘toru? Or just attention?”

He goes silent for awhile, his mind hazy, and not liking the idea of making his own choice. He wanted you to take care of him completely, to let his mind slip away, and for you to control his ever thought, movement. “Please,” He mumbles, face scrunching up with frustration.

You are quick to apologize, recognizing his situation almost instantly. “Alright, alright. I'll take care of you. Lets cum one more time, can you do that for me, pretty boy?”

Pretty boy. A nickname unlike the harsh ones he received earlier: brat, slut, dog, whore. In the moment it only increased to turn him on, but now, he wanted to be good. The thought of you calling him those names made him want to tear up, and sob into your arms. He didn't want you to be mean anymore, he wants you to love him. To praise him on anything and everything. 

He jumps when he feels your hand drift back to his cock. It aches from all the abuse from earlier, and he lets out a shaky whimper, not liking the pain as much as he once did. “H-Hurts,” He yelps, wishing for you to make it better. To fix it all, why did everything ache so badly? He wants comfort, and as quickly as possible.

You kiss at his tears and pull his face into your neck. “‘m sorry. Was Mommy too rough with you today? Shhh, it’ll feel better in a bit, just relax,” You encourage, beginning to slide your hand up and down his length. He twitches and mewls from beneath you, fighting the feeling of overstimulation and pleasure. He wants this, he wants this, he wants this so badly, but he wishes it wasn't so uncomfortable.

He shakes his head into your neck, “Wasn't too rough. I'm fine, Mama j-just make me feel better, please,” he whispers, voice hoarse, and soft. One of your hands pet his hair, while the other strokes him off, shushing his cries, and reassuring that he will feel better soon.

You were right of course, the pain of overstimulation died off, and Gojo felt like he was melting. Everything is so warm, so light, he feels like he was on cloud nine. He feels loved, and every loose thought was traced back to you. “Love you s-so much.”

You grin at him, pressing your lips to his. His lips are chapped from his excessive panting, but you don't mind, licking at the plush flesh. He whimpers and groans, his hands pawing at you to pull you impossibly closer. When you pull back, he follows you, letting out a small huff in complaint. You pepper his face with kisses in apology. “Love you too. Such a good boy, Satoru, I'm so lucky to have such a pretty boy.”

He withers under the praise, nodding his head dumbly. He wants to coax so more out of you, but he can't think of ways, so he just rest his head on your chest, and chants, “Mommy” on repeat. 

Your hand is slow in pace, careful to not overwhelm him. It slides up and down easily, his previous cum acting as lube. His cock is bright red, and you almost feel bad for it after pulling so many orgasms from it earlier. You are suprised he is still even awake, sure, he looks and acts exhausted, but by this long he is usually passed out. He must be awake only because he is searching for praise and comfort from earlier. To not find himself in a sub drop.

You catch his eye, and a wobbly smile pulls at his face. You chuckle at him, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Whaddya want from me?” He asks, voice cracking in the middle of the sentence.

“Hmm?”

He taps his forehead against yours, hazy blue eyes staring into yours. “Wanna command. Wanna be useful for you.” 

You smile warmly at him and he shivers, leaning up to kiss you again. You hand rubs over his small slit, and he gasps, pausing just centimeteres before you face, and moaning out. 

“You are deep in this, aren't you sweet boy?” You murmur, mostly to your self, slightly astonished. It was one thing for him to ask for praise, and to make decisions for him, but actively seeking instructions from you was another. It was fascinating, and adorable to say the least, how desperately he craved approval, or wanted to feel needed, useful. Nothing how Gojo usually was like.

You thumb at his tip, and he heaves, trying to keep up with your words. But everything you say other than “sweet boy,” seems to tuned out. Everything feels blurry, expect for you face, and your sickenly sweet tone. “D-Don't understand. Please!”

“Okay, shhh, it's alright. I want you to cum for me. Can you cum for Mommy, Satoru? That's all I want you to do.” An easy command, one he can definitely fulfill. He can do that – he can definitely cum for you. Gojo feels his chest bloom with butterflies at the idea of what you'll say to him once he follows your wishes. How much praise he will receive. How good and useful he is being. It makes him shiver with excitement.

Your hand picks up speed when he nods, and he gasps, gripping onto your arms from the suddenness. His hips buck upward into the makeshift hole, and you coo at him, telling him to relax his hips. He abides without question, melting into the sheets, and you give him a kiss for a reward. 

He feels himself begin to teeter along his high, and he glances up at you, eyes wide and slightly panicked. He needs to ask for approval, he has to ask to cum, the rules were basically engrained in him, but everything is spinning, and he's beginning to feel overwhelmed by the intensity of the pressure. He feels his voice go dry, and tears begin to pool in his eyes at the prospect of disappointing you.

You take notice of his fearful face immediately, quickly leaning over to cup his face. “You can cum. Relax, hey, its alright, I want you to cum.”

He breathes a shaky sign of relief, and you wipe his tears away, thinking back to earlier of how you wiped his tears away from the ruthless pleasure/pain mix, and now simply because he was afraid that he wasn't able to ask permission before cumming. You would be lying if the power didnt get to your head.

You thoughts are cut off when Gojos entire body jerks, and a muffled, “Fuck!” is let out. His orgasm hits him like a truck, and he trembles, riding the waves. His voice is too scratchy to let out any real noise, so he just silently cries into your chest. Cum dribbles down his cock pathetically, obviously spent, and not having much left to give. You don't seem to notice it though, instead focusing on your lover, and trying to make his orgasm as pleasurable as possible.

When he comes down from it, his legs are shaking, and his eyes are hooded with exhaustion. “P-Plea–Coconut,” He weakly gets out, and you hands fly off his body in seconds from hearing the safety word. You pull away, hoping to not overwhelm him, but instead he clings to you. “Don’t go. Don’t go. Mommy, I can't. J-Just–I…Praise!” He splutters, coherent thoughts flying out of his head, as he slumps into the bed.

You nod, staying away from his cock, and instead placing his head into your lap. His body curls around you in seconds, still slightly trembling. “Did so well. Good boy Satoru. My good boy, I am so spoiled. So lucky to have you." You coo, reaching your hand up to run it through his matted hair. "Took everything so well. I'm so proud of you." A small smile pulls at his face, and everything feels so warm "I love you so much, you know that?”

“Hm,” He hums, nodding his head slightly.

You smile at him. “My perfect boy. It's time to go to sleep, I'll take care of everything. Just rest for me, that's all I need you to do.”

But he didn't even hear the last of your statements, already passed out onto you, his chest rising and falling from his heavy breathes.

You sigh, and stare affectionately at the man. His naked body littered in marks, and he still managed to sleep contently with them. His body was drained of everything. Just like he asked you to do so hours prior.

Your hands roam the nightstand, grabbing healing cream, bandages, and a wash cloth. And with one last sigh, you place Gojo's head onto the pillow, and begin the long process of cleaning him up.

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[theyluvkarolina]

౨ৎ BETRAYAL ౨ৎ

masterlist / rules / requests & talks with me!

SUMMARY౨ৎ A day in the Leclerc home is never quiet. Cause of noise this day? Charles’s screams of horror when his boys don’t support Ferrari. And the biggest blow? They support Redbull and Mclaren (requested!)

PAIRING ౨ৎ Charles Leclerc x Wife!Reader

WARNINGS ౨ৎ charles being dramatic, a short fic!! (i’m saying that it’s like a blurb kinda short but not a blurb lol so a imagine i think..?)

A/N ౨ৎ i will forever see charles as a girl dad 😞😞 but i’ll do this just for you anon

IN THE MORNING, Monaco is absolutely stunning. The sun coming up over the Mediterranean Sea gives the whole place an elegant and fancy atmosphere, the smell of freshly baked pastries from the cafes mixes with the sea breeze, people are out for a stroll along the promenade or at outdoor cafes with their morning coffee, or the yachts in the harbor accompanied by the beautiful architecture. It’s serene. Quiet.

Yet, the Leclerc household is never quiet. Even in the early hours of the mornings.

You gave a sigh before sipping the freshly brewed coffee you made while looking out the window of your apartment, taking in the sight resting your head on Charles’s shoulder, enjoying the tranquility while the twins and Noemié are still away for a while.

Charles wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you closer as you both enjoyed the fleeting moment of calm. “Good morning, mon amour.”

Charles wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you closer as you both enjoy the fleeting moment of calm. “Good morning, mon amour,” he murmurs softly, his lips brushing against your temple.

You turn your head slightly, giving him a small smile as your free hand slips up to play with the hair at the nape of his neck. “Morning,” you reply, your voice soft and warm, taking in the serenity of the moment. “Did you sleep well?” You questioned, your eyes meeting his.

“As long as I’m next to you, I’ll be sleeping well every night I’m here.” Charles responded, his voice slightly raspy from just getting out of bed not too long ago.

The peaceful morning, however, takes a sudden turn when Charles's hand starts to roam, his fingers tracing patterns on your back. You chuckle, feeling the playful intent behind his touch. “Charles…” you warn, though there’s no real heat behind it. However, the moment soon evaporated by two familiar voices.

“Papa! Look at what Uncle Max and Lando gave us!” One of the boy’s voice carries with excitement, waving a Red Bull cap stitched with the number “1” on it.

The other, follows close behind, clutching a McLaren his own hat, but with no specific number. “And I got a Mclaren one!”

Charles raises an eyebrow, glancing between his two sons with a questioning expression.

Redbull? Mclaren? Pardon?

“Wait a minute, what’s this?” he asks, trying to keep his tone neutral despite the growing confusion.

Julien grins widely. “I’m a Red Bull fan, Papa! I want to be just like Max!” He holds up his Red Bull gear proudly.

Matteo, not to be outdone, puffs out his chest. “I like McLaren now!” He smiles, showing off his new McLaren gear.

Charles blinks, momentarily lost in thought. “But… but you both have been to the same races. You know Papa drives for Ferrari, right?”

Julien shrugged nonchalantly. “Yeah, but Max is really cool! He wins a lotta races! Not like you Papa.”.

Charles’s eyes widen, his mouth forming a perfect "O" as he processes the information. He puts a hand to his forehead, as if trying to stave off a sudden headache. “Wait, hold on. Are you telling me that my own sons have chosen to support… other teams..?”

You can’t help but stifle a laugh at his exaggerated disbelief. Julien and Matteo look up at him, each with a mix of pride and defiance in their eyes.

“Yes, Papa! Julien likes Red Bull, and I like McLaren!” Matteo insists, holding up his McLaren cap as if it were a trophy.

Charles’s dramatic reaction continues as he dramatically clasps his hands together in prayer, eyes wide with slight horror. “Mon dieu… my own boys… choosing teams that are my competitors… I think I just failed as a tifosi…”

You lean in to whisper to Charles, “Maybe they’re just testing your loyalty to Ferrari. Or they’ve picked their teams to give you a hard time.”

Charles shakes his head, still in slight despair over the situation. “I need to reconsider my parenting strategies. Perhaps I should start buying them Ferrari gear to remind them of their true team… I need to talk to Max, Lando and Oscar. They stole my own boys from me..”

You simply shake your head at his dramatics. “Oh please Charles, it’s not as if they are praying on your downfall. Besides Noemié I still a Ferrari fan, aren’t you mon chou?”

Noemié simply gave a hum in thought before formulating her response, “Hm… no. Ferrari sucks… I like Mercedes!”

That might have just been the final blow to Charles’s heart.

[julietsf1]

Best Day Ever - Franco Colapinto x Reader

Summary: Oscar's win and Franco's first points have to be celebrated. With her best friend Lando playing matchmaker and the tension between Y/N and Franco simmering, the night promises to be anything but ordinary. Sparks fly on the dance floor, but is Y/N ready to admit what’s really going on?

Warnings: Questionable fashion choices from Charles, Jealous Franco

A N - okay so I never write but I couldn't help myself. another one lol. I adore this man, I really hope he'll get a seat next year:)

_______________________

I slipped into Lando’s hotel room, dodging the chaos of clothes strewn everywhere and the blast of upbeat music. As expected, the room was a disaster—a tornado of outfits scattered around, and Lando stood in front of the mirror with two shirts, looking deeply conflicted.

“You’re taking this way too seriously,” I teased, dropping my bag on the bed and watching him as he inspected each shirt like it was a life-or-death decision.

Lando turned, giving me a dramatic sigh. “You don’t get it, darling. As tonight’s DJ, I need to look the part. No one’s gonna take me seriously behind the decks if I look like shit.”

I raised an eyebrow, amused. “Yes, because that’s exactly why people come to the club... for your shirt.”

He dramatically held up the two options for me to judge. “So? Bright white to make my tan pop? Or black for mysterious, sexy DJ vibes?”

I chuckled, shaking my head as I pulled out my dress. “The real question is, how long until you spill something on it?” I shot back with a grin.

Lando grinned right back at me, tossing the white shirt aside. “Good point. But now, your turn. What are we working with tonight, Y/N?”

I unzipped my bag and pulled out the stunning red dress I’d been waiting to wear. It was the kind of dress that would turn heads the second I walked into the club. Lando’s eyes widened dramatically when he saw it.

“Well, well, well,” he drawled, stepping closer to inspect the dress as if it were a priceless artifact. “What’s the occasion? Trying to murder Franco tonight or what? Because if I were him, I’d be dead on the spot.”

Rolling my eyes, I ignored the blush creeping up my cheeks. “It’s not for him. I just like looking good. Is that a crime?”

“Oh no, not at all,” Lando said, smirking. “But let’s be frank. Or should I say ‘frank-o’? Get it?”

I rolled my eyes again, groaning at his pun. Classic Lando.

Lando sighed dramatically at my lack of enthusiasm but pressed on. “Anyway, you’ve been on Franco’s mind all weekend. The way he’s been sneaking glances at you? Totally adorable.”

I slipped behind the dressing screen to change. “Franco sneaks glances at every girl. It’s his thing.”

“Ah, but here’s the kicker,” Lando leaned against the screen like he was sharing the world’s best-kept secret. “You’re the only one who acts like you don’t care. He finds it irresistible.”

I emerged from behind the screen, giving Lando a look. “I’m not here for his ego trip. I’m here to celebrate Oscar’s win. Now help me zip up, please.”

Lando smirked, walking over to help with the zipper. His fingers brushed lightly against my back, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Sure. That’s why you wore that dress. Totally not because of Franco.”

“Do you ever shut up?” I teased, adjusting the straps of my dress as I looked in the mirror. The reflection staring back at me was more confident than I felt. The dress hugged my figure in all the right places, making me feel bold despite the nerves bubbling in my chest.

Lando chuckled, running a hand through his hair as he grabbed his black shirt and pulled it over his head. “Just trying to help. You’ve got something going on with Franco, and I—your devilishly handsome sidekick—am here to make sure it happens.”

“There’s nothing going on,” I insisted, straightening the hem of my dress. “It’s just banter.”

Lando gave me a playful wink. “Uh-huh. Whatever you say. But tonight, when he sees you in that dress, don’t say I didn’t warn you. Man’s going to be speechless.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re in denial,” he shot back. “Now, let’s get going. The club’s not going to know what hit it.”

I grabbed my purse, shaking my head with a smile as we headed for the door. No matter how much Lando teased, there was something about his playful energy that always put me at ease. He knew how to turn any situation into a joke, and even if I wasn’t ready to admit it out loud, the thought of Franco seeing me tonight had me feeling a little more excited than I should’ve been.

“Ready to knock ‘em dead?” Lando asked as we reached the elevator.

I smirked. “Let’s dance, baby.”

Lando grinned, pressing the button for the lobby. 

.

The second we stepped into the club, I could feel the shift in energy. The bass was pounding through the floor, neon lights flickering in rhythm with the music, and a sea of people already swaying to the beat. It was one of those nights where you could tell things were only going to get wilder as the hours passed.

Lando, naturally, was beaming as he led us toward our reserved table, his usual confidence on full display. “This is going to be legendary,” he grinned, throwing an arm around my shoulders. “You ready to make some memories?”

I smirked, adjusting the strap of my dress. “If by memories, you mean watching you make a fool of yourself on the dance floor, then absolutely.”

Lando wiggled his eyebrows mischievously. “Just wait until I start playing some tracks. You won’t know what hit you.”

As we approached the table, George was already making himself comfortable, adjusting his collar like the proper gentleman he always tried to be, while Alex slid in beside him, looking equally ready to unwind after the weekend.

“This place,” George mused, his eyes scanning the scene, “positively buzzes. I might even have to loosen a few buttons tonight, fellas.”

Alex laughed, giving him a playful nudge. “Oh no, George Russell, loosing up? What is the world coming to?”

Before George could respond with one of his comebacks, the door to the club swung open, and in walked Max, Daniel, and Charles—each of them making an entrance like they owned the place. Max, already sipping on a gin tonic, had that relaxed grin he only ever showed when he was off-track, while Daniel was bouncing with energy as usual, ready to bring chaos. Charles, however, had topped them all, not only wearing his patchwork pants, but also sporting a pair of ridiculous neon pink sunglasses that instantly made me burst out laughing.

Lando, seeing Charles in all his glory, was quick to point out the obvious. “Alright, who let Charles dress himself? Where is Alexandra when we need her?”

Charles just grinned, pushing the sunglasses further up his nose. “Jealousy doesn’t suit you, Norris.”

Daniel, never one to miss a beat, clapped me on the back as he slid into the booth next to me. “Looking hot tonight, Y/N. I’m pretty sure jaws will drop.”

I rolled my eyes, trying not to blush. “It’s just a dress, Daniel. Let’s focus on the real star of the night—Oscar.”

Oscar, ever the quiet one, gave me a sheepish smile from across the table. “Can we not make a big deal out of this?”

“Oh, no, no, no,” Lando interjected, throwing an arm around Oscar. “You’re the man of the hour! We’re celebrating you tonight, mate. And Franco when he shows up of course.”

Max, already in full party mode, flagged down a waiter with a confident wave. “Gin tonics all around—and something stronger for Oscar. What do you say?”

Oscar chuckled awkwardly as Daniel threw an arm around his shoulders, laughing. “Yeah, mate. Time to get wild.”

I couldn’t help but laugh as Max and Daniel continued to heap praise on Oscar, who was clearly not loving being the center of attention.

“He needs more than one drink for that,” I said, leaning back with a grin. “Oscar’s more the ‘quiet observer’ type.”

“That’s exactly what makes it more fun,” Lando added, his grin widening. “He’s like a ticking time bomb. You never know when he’s going to blow.”

Just then, the drinks arrived. Daniel raised his glass, holding it high for the group. “To my favorite fellow Aussie,” he declared, causing Oscar to smile awkwardly as Daniel continued, “And to a night we’re definitely not going to remember.”

“Cheers!” we all echoed, clinking glasses.

Max wasted no time, clapping Oscar on the back. “No sitting tonight, mate. Come on, time to dance.”

Oscar looked wide-eyed for a moment before Max and Daniel each grabbed one of his arms, dragging him onto the dance floor. He glanced back at us with a look that screamed help me.

I laughed as I watched Oscar get pulled into the chaos. “Well, there goes Oscar.”

Lando grinned, leaning in closer. “You know what Oscar needs to loosen up?”

I raised an eyebrow. “Oh no, not this again...”

“Tequila.” Lando’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Come on, we’ve got shots to retrieve.”

Before I could protest, he grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the bar, dodging people along the way. It was like Lando had some sort of radar for causing trouble, and tonight, tequila was at the center of his plans.

We reached the bar, and with a few charming words from Lando, the bartender handed over a full tray of tequila shots.

“Think this is enough?” I asked, eyeing the tray suspiciously.

Lando gave me a mock-serious look. “Not even close.”

As we carried the tray back to the table, I couldn’t stop laughing at the sight of our friends still tearing up the dance floor. Max and Daniel were already locked in some sort of ridiculous dance battle, while Charles, still sporting his horrible sunglasses, was swaying with his gin tonic in hand like it was the most normal thing in the world.

“Oscar’s going to die out there,” I chuckled, shaking my head.

“Not if the tequila kicks in first,” Lando smirked, placing the tray down on the table.

Just as we settled back at the booth, the door to the club swung open once more, and in walked Carlos and Franco. Carlos, as always, looked effortlessly sexy, his dark shirt unbuttoned just enough to make every girl in the club swoon. But Franco? My heart skipped a beat when I saw him—his eyes immediately locking onto mine with that intense, playful glint that I was starting to recognize all too well.

He looked different tonight—glowing from the inside out, like the weight of proving himself had finally been lifted. The victory of his first points in F1 suited him. His confidence was always there, but now it had this newfound depth that made it impossible not to notice him.

Lando, ever the instigator, nudged me under the table, trying to hide his grin. “Look at your man, glowing,” he whispered with an exaggerated wink.

“Shut it,” I muttered, though my pulse had quickened at the sight of Franco.

As they made their way over, the group welcomed them with cheers and raised glasses. Carlos slid into the booth beside George, while Franco took the seat across from me, his eyes never leaving mine.

“You’re late,” I teased, lifting my shot glass in his direction.

Franco grinned, his gaze flickering from the glass to my dress and back to my eyes. “Fashionably late, of course. You know how it is.”

“Always with an excuse,” I shot back, though I couldn’t help the smile tugging at my lips.

Franco leaned in slightly, his voice dropping just enough for me to hear. “Maybe I just wanted to make an entrance. Catch someone’s attention.”

Under the table, Lando kicked me again, even more subtly this time, though his grin was anything but subtle. I shot him a look, trying to ignore the way my heart was racing.

“You’re not fooling anyone,” I said, keeping my tone light as I shook my head at Franco. “Nice try, though.”

Franco chuckled. “We’ll see about that.”

Lando’s face lit up, his grin widening as he picked up one of the tequila shots. “Before we do anything else, we need to make a toast.”

Alex, George, and I exchanged glances as Lando raised his shot glass high, his voice carrying over the thumping music. “To Franco, for getting his first F1 points!” he declared, eyes twinkling with excitement. “He’s officially no longer just a pretty face—he can drive, too!”

Everyone laughed, Franco shaking his head with a mock roll of his eyes, but there was no denying the pride shining in his green eyes. He raised his glass, meeting Lando’s playful grin. “Thanks, mate,” he said with a smirk, his voice carrying that familiar flirty edge as he glanced over at me. “It’s about time I caught up.”

“To Franco!” Lando repeated, and the group joined in the chorus, clinking glasses before throwing back the shots.

The tequila burned, but it wasn’t just the alcohol that made my pulse race—it was the way Franco’s eyes lingered on me

“So,” Franco began, his voice low and smooth, “do you always look this good when you go out? Or is this just for me?”

I raised an eyebrow, trying my best not to smile. “I think you’ve been hanging out with Lando too much. His cockiness is rubbing off.”

Franco chuckled softly, his eyes still fixed on mine. “Maybe. But I’m serious. You look… incredible.”

I rolled my eyes, though I couldn’t quite hide the blush creeping up my cheeks. “You say that to every girl, Franco.”

His grin widened, leaning in just enough to make my heart race. “Not like this. And not to every girl.”

It was the way he said it—calm, confident, and undeniably sincere—that made me falter. There was no denying the effect his words had on me, but I wasn’t about to let him know that.

“Nice try,” I said, taking a sip of my drink, determined to stay unbothered. “But I’m not falling for it.”

He leaned back slightly, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “Who said I was trying anything? I’m just telling the truth.”

Carlos was still engrossed in conversation with Lando, leaving me to handle Franco on my own. Lando, however, didn’t miss the exchange, and I felt a not-so-subtle nudge from him under the table. “Told you,” he whispered, barely hiding his grin. “He’s got it bad.”

I shot Lando a look but couldn’t help the warmth spreading through me. Franco wasn’t making this easy.

“So, what’s the plan for the rest of the night?” I asked, trying to shift the conversation away from me.

Franco’s smile turned playful, his eyes never leaving mine. “Dance, maybe. If you’re up for it.”

I let out a soft laugh, shaking my head. “In your dreams, maybe.”

“Trust me, cariño,” Franco said, his voice dropping just enough to send a shiver down my spine, “I’ve had plenty of those already.”

I swallowed, trying to keep my composure. Franco’s flirty nature wasn’t new, but tonight, it felt different—more direct, more intentional. And the Spanish- oh my days. 

Before things could escalate further, I decided to save myself. I stood abruptly, grabbing Lando’s arm. “I need to dance,” I announced, pulling him up with me. “Come on, Norris. Let’s go.”

Lando blinked in surprise but quickly recovered, flashing Franco a smug grin. “Later, Colapinto,” he called as I dragged him toward the dance floor. “Don’t worry, I’ll bring her back soon.”

Grabbing Lando’s arm, I dragged him out of the booth and into the center of the dance floor, determined to drown out the tension with music and laughter.

“Whoa, easy there!” Lando exclaimed with a grin as I pulled him into the mass of bodies. The bass was so strong I could feel it reverberate through the floor and into my chest. Neon lights flickered over the crowd, casting everyone in shades of blue, purple, and red.

“I need to dance!” I shouted over the music, spinning him around as the beat dropped. “Get your head in the game, Norris!”

Lando, always ready for a bit of fun, didn’t miss a beat. “You’re lucky I’m the best dance partner you could ask for!” he laughed, immediately pulling me into a ridiculous salsa move that made me burst into giggles. His over-the-top style was exactly what I needed to shake off Franco’s intense gaze.

We danced together in sync for a while, Lando’s antics drawing more laughter from me than I’d had all night. He was twirling, dipping, and making exaggerated poses with every beat, reminding me how effortlessly fun it could be to just let go.

“You’re a nightmare,” I teased, dodging one of his particularly dramatic moves as he spun me around.

“And you’re loving every second of it!” Lando grinned, completely unbothered by how ridiculous he looked.

For a few blissful minutes, I allowed myself to get lost in the music. The lights, the crowd, and Lando’s contagious energy made everything else fade into the background. But no matter how hard I tried to focus on the fun, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was being watched.

Franco.

Even with the mass of people between us, I could feel his eyes on me. I stole a glance toward the bar and, sure enough, there he was, standing with Carlos, Alex, and George, his eyes fixed on me like a magnet. The intensity in his gaze was impossible to ignore, and it sent a shiver down my spine.

“Stop staring,” I muttered under my breath, shaking my head to push the thought away. But even as I laughed it off, I couldn’t deny the way my heart sped up when I caught Franco watching.

Lando twirled me again, pulling me close to shout over the music. “Franco hasn’t stopped looking at you all night!”

I rolled my eyes, feigning indifference. “That’s just Franco being Franco. He’s like that with everyone.”

“Uh-huh, right.” Lando shot me a knowing grin. “Just with everyone? Come on, Y/N, you’re not fooling me.”

I groaned, pulling away slightly as we continued to dance. “Can we not talk about him right now? I’m trying to enjoy myself.”

“Sure, sure,” Lando laughed, holding up his hands in surrender. “But you know he’s watching, right? Might as well give him a show.”

Before I could respond, Lando grabbed my hands and twirled me into a dramatic dip, making me squeal with laughter. It was ridiculous and playful, exactly the distraction I needed. But even as I danced, I couldn’t fully shake the sensation of Franco’s gaze burning into me.

Eventually, the heat of the dance floor got to me, and I pulled Lando off to the side, fanning myself as we made our way to the bar. “I need a drink,” I muttered, wiping a bead of sweat from my forehead.

“Good call,” Lando agreed, still grinning like a madman. “But I’ve got a better idea—why don’t you get some fresh air. You look like you’re about to combust.”

I nodded, following him toward the exit. The night breeze hit me like a wave of relief, cool and refreshing against my flushed skin. I let out a long breath, leaning against the side of the building as I tried to shake off the lingering tension.

Just as I was starting to feel a bit more grounded, Oscar appeared from the shadows, looking surprisingly calm despite the chaos happening inside.

“Oscar?” I blinked, surprised to see him outside. “What are you doing out here?”

Oscar, ever the quiet observer, gave a small shrug, his usual smirk playing at the edges of his lips. “Hiding of course. Max and Daniel are going way too hard in there.”

I chuckled, nodding in agreement. “I don’t blame you. It’s getting a bit crazy. I think I just saw Max crowdsurfing with Charles’s glasses on.”

We stood in comfortable silence for a moment, the music still thumping faintly in the background. I leaned against the wall, tilting my head back to take in the stars above. It felt good to breathe, to have a moment of peace before heading back into the chaos.

But Oscar, always perceptive, wasn’t one to let things slide. “You alright?” he asked, his tone casual but laced with meaning.

I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck. “Yeah, just… trying to clear my head.”

Oscar raised an eyebrow, his smirk growing. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with Franco, would it?”

I froze, my heart skipping a beat at the mention of his name. “What? No. Why would it?”

Oscar gave me a knowing look, clearly unconvinced. “Come on, Y/N. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. And the way you’ve been acting tonight…”

I crossed my arms defensively, trying to brush it off. “He’s just being his usual flirty self. It doesn’t mean anything.”

Oscar leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms as well. “Doesn’t it?”

I opened my mouth to respond, but the words got stuck in my throat. Oscar was too good at reading people, and he wasn’t letting me get away with pretending everything was fine.

He sighed, glancing toward the club entrance. “Look, I’m not saying you have to do anything about it. But it’s pretty clear there’s something there. You can’t ignore it forever.”

I groaned, running a hand through my hair.

Oscar offered a sympathetic smile, his tone surprisingly gentle. “Love always is a bit complicated, I think. But that doesn’t mean you should run away from it.”

We fell into silence again, the weight of his words hanging in the air. I wasn’t ready to confront whatever I was feeling, not yet. But Oscar’s insight had a way of sticking with me, whether I wanted it to or not.

After a few moments, Oscar pushed off the wall and gave me a small smile. “Come on, let’s head back inside. I think Lando’s getting ready to play.”

I nodded, following him back toward the entrance. The cool air had done little to calm my racing heart, and I knew I wasn’t ready to face Franco again. But there was no avoiding it. Not tonight.

As we stepped back into the club, the music hit me like a wave, and the energy inside was even more electric than before. Lando was at the DJ booth now, a massive grin on his face as he was preparing to take over the set. The dance floor was packed, and the flashing lights made everything feel surreal.

I spotted Franco near the bar, his eyes immediately locking onto mine as I walked back inside. He didn’t look away this time. Instead, he took a slow sip from his drink, a knowing smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

Oscar nudged me with his elbow, smirking. “Looks like you’ve got some unfinished business.”

I rolled my eyes, trying to ignore the way my stomach flipped at the sight of Franco watching me. “Let’s just dance,” I muttered, pulling Oscar onto the dance floor.

“Y/N! Oscar! Get over here! We were starting to think you’d run off!” Carlos shouted over the music, motioning me toward him.

Without thinking, I grabbed Oscar’s hand and pulled him toward the group. The music, the lights, and the laughter of my friends wrapped around me, easing the tension built up in me earlier. Oscar, clearly reluctant, laughed softly as I spun him around in the middle of the dance floor. His awkward moves were no match for my playful swaying, but it made the moment even funnier.

“You’re a terrible dancer,” I teased him, grinning from ear to ear.

“I never claimed to be a pro,” Oscar quipped, barely able to keep up. His shy smile only made me laugh harder.

Carlos was quick to join in, pulling me away from Oscar as he swayed confidently to the rhythm. The crowd around us blurred, and soon, it was just the familiar faces of my friends. Carlos twirled me once before leaning in playfully.

“Careful, Y/N,” he teased, “I might steal you away from everyone tonight.”

I let out a laugh, shaking my head. “As if! You could try, though.”

Behind me, I could feel the heat of Franco’s gaze burning into the back of my neck. His eyes never left me. Every time Carlos spun me or made me laugh, I could sense Franco’s attention shifting, the tension in his stance growing tighter.

Carlos, always perceptive, picked up on it quickly. "Franco’s been eyeing you more than usual," he commented under his breath, smirking as he twirled me again. "What’s going on there?"

I rolled my eyes, feigning indifference. "Nothing. He’s just… being Franco."

Carlos chuckled, his grip on my waist tightening slightly as we moved in sync with the beat. "Right. Nothing. That’s why he’s looking like he wants to punch me."

I let out a huff, but the truth was, I could feel the tension between me and Franco bubbling beneath the surface. Every glance, every stolen look, felt like a promise—one I wasn’t sure I was ready to face yet.

As the song came to an end, I found myself needing a break. "I need a drink," I said, fanning myself as I pulled away from Carlos. "Anyone else?"

Carlos grinned, giving me a playful wink. "I’m good. Say hi to your lover boy from me please."

I laughed, waving him off as I made my way towards the bar. The crowd parted slightly as I moved, and for a moment, I allowed myself to breathe, to reset. But I wasn’t alone for long.

Before I could even order my drink, Franco was there, sliding up beside me with an ease that made my heart skip a beat. His presence was overwhelming, his green eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made the noise of the club fade into the background.

"You and Carlos seem to be getting along pretty well," Franco commented, his tone casual but laced with something darker—something that sent a thrill down my spine.

I raised an eyebrow, turning to face him fully. "What’s it to you?" I asked, my voice light but teasing. I wasn’t going to make this easy for him.

Franco stepped closer, his body brushing against mine as he leaned in. "Just making sure you’re not getting too comfortable with the wrong guy," he said, his voice low, almost possessive.

A smirk tugged at the corners of my lips. "Jealous?" I teased, leaning into the challenge. His proximity was intoxicating, and it took everything in me not to show just how much he was affecting me.

Franco’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t step back. If anything, he moved closer, his gaze dark and unreadable. "Maybe," he murmured, his eyes flicking down to my lips before meeting my gaze again. "But you already knew that."

The air between us was charged, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. I could feel the heat of his body against mine, the way his hand hovered near my waist as if he was waiting for permission to touch me.

I opened my mouth to respond, but before I could, Lando’s voice cut through the air, announcing that he was about to take over the set. 

The music changed in an instant. The high-energy beats slowed, replaced by something smoother, more intimate. The kind of rhythm that forced people to get close—whether they wanted to or not.

Looking at the booth, I instantly made eye contact with Lando, who winked at me with the widest smirk ever. I rolled my eyes, knowing exactly what he was doing. It was his not-so-subtle attempt at playing matchmaker again, and as much as I hated to admit it, the slow, heavy beat was making it very hard to resist the magnetic pull I felt toward Franco.

"Guess Lando’s got a sense of humor," Franco murmured, closing the distance between us again, his breath brushing against my ear.

I swallowed hard. He was close—too close. The tension that had been simmering all night was now palpable, and I wasn’t sure how much longer I could keep pretending it didn’t affect me. The smell of his cologne, the warmth of his body, I was slowly losing my mind. 

Franco didn’t wait for me to respond. His hand found the small of my back, pulling me gently towards him. "Dance with me? Please." His voice was low, almost a whisper, and the sincerity in his eyes caught me off guard. This wasn’t the usual playful Franco I was used to—the one who flirted just for the sake of it. There was something deeper in his gaze, something real.

I hesitated for a moment, trying to catch my breath. "Franco…"

He leaned in, his lips hovering near my ear. "I’m not playing games tonight, Y/N," he whispered, his tone soft but firm. "This isn’t just me messing around."

I looked up at him, my heart skipping a beat at the vulnerability in his eyes. He was being sincere. This wasn’t the usual charm or smooth lines he used with everyone else—this was real. And it scared me.

"I…" I started, but the words caught in my throat. I didn’t know how to respond, didn’t know if I could trust what I was feeling.

Franco’s hand slid from my back to my waist, pulling me even closer until there was no space left between us. His breath was warm against my neck, sending shivers down my spine. "Just dance with me," he whispered again, his lips brushing my ear.

The music pulsed around us, slow and steady, and before I could think better of it, I nodded, slowly letting my guard down and giving in to the moment. Franco’s lips curved into a small, genuine smile, and he guided me onto the dance floor, our bodies moving in sync with the beat.

For a few moments, we just swayed together, the tension between us crackling in the air. Every touch, every brush of his hand against my skin, sent electricity shooting through me. I could feel the warmth of his breath on my cheek, the steady thump of his heart against mine as we moved together.

"You know," Franco murmured, his voice a little rougher now, "I wasn’t lying earlier. About you."

I looked up at him, trying to keep my voice steady. "What do you mean?"

His green eyes met mine, filled with something I couldn’t quite place. "I know I make a lot of flirty jokes. With everyone. But with you? It’s different."

I blinked, the honesty in his words taking me by surprise. I opened my mouth to respond, but he wasn’t finished.

"I don’t want you to think I’m just… playing around. This isn’t just some game to me." His hand tightened slightly on my waist, pulling me closer. "You are special to me. I just… I want you to be mine. Just mine."

My heart was pounding in my chest, the world around us fading into the background. His words hung in the air between us, and for the first time, I didn’t know what to say.

Before I could respond, Franco’s hand slid from my waist to my lower back, his fingers brushing against the bare skin exposed by my dress. "I don’t like sharing you," he added, his voice low and filled with something darker, something possessive.

A shiver ran down my spine at the intensity of his words. My heart skipped a beat, my breath catching in my throat as I looked up at him, our faces inches apart.

"Who said you had to?" I whispered, my voice barely audible over the music.

Franco didn’t wait for permission. In one swift motion, he closed the gap between us, his lips crashing against mine in a kiss that was anything but gentle.

It was like all the tension that had been building between us finally exploded in that one moment. His hands cupped my face, holding me close as his lips moved against mine with a desperation that matched my own. I responded with equal intensity, my hands threading through his hair as I pressed myself closer to him.

The world around us ceased to exist. The music, the crowd, the lights—it all faded into nothing as I lost myself in the kiss. His lips were soft but demanding, and every brush of his fingers against my skin sent a jolt of electricity through me.

He pulled me even closer, his hands sliding down my back, and I could feel the steady beat of his heart against my chest. My own pulse was racing, my thoughts spinning out of control as we stumbled slightly, moving toward the edge of the dance floor.

Franco’s back hit the wall, and he pulled me against him, his hands still gripping my waist as we kissed with a fervor I hadn’t known existed. His tongue brushed against mine, and I let out a soft gasp, my fingers tightening in his hair as I pressed my body against his.

When we finally pulled apart, both of us were breathless, our foreheads resting against each other. Franco’s green eyes were dark with desire, his breath coming in shallow gasps as he looked down at me.

"I’ve wanted to do that for so long," he whispered, his voice rough with emotion.

I smiled, my fingers still tangled in his hair. "You’re not the only one," I whispered back, my heart racing.

Franco chuckled softly, his hands still resting on my waist as he looked down at me with a mix of affection and desire. "I’m never letting you go now, hermosa."

The way he said it made my heart flutter, and without thinking, I leaned in for another kiss. This one was slower, more tender, but just as intense. We stayed like that for what felt like forever, lost in our own little world, oblivious to the party happening around us.

Finally, Franco pulled back, his eyes searching mine. "Let’s get out of here," he murmured, his voice still rough with emotion.

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. Together, we slipped away from the dance floor, unnoticed by the rest of the party as we made our way outside.

The club’s energy still buzzed in my veins as Franco and I stepped outside, the cool night air a stark contrast to the heat of the dance floor. He tugged me toward the beach, the soft sound of waves pulling us further away from the noise inside. The moonlight reflected off the water, casting the Baku coast in a beautiful gentle silver glow. I couldn’t help but smile at the shift in atmosphere, from the wild club scene to the quiet, intimate stillness of the beach.

Franco was glowing, that much was obvious. He hadn’t stopped smiling since we left the club. And I knew it wasn’t just the thrill of dancing. Scoring his first F1 points today had him on cloud nine, and it was infectious. I felt it, too—his joy, his excitement—it made him even more attractive, if that was possible.

“You’re really not tired?” I teased, bumping his shoulder lightly as we strolled along the sand. “It’s been a pretty big day for you.”

He turned to me, his green eyes sparkling under the moonlight. “Are you kidding? Best day of my life.”

I laughed softly, stopping to let the waves lap at my feet. “The points are a big deal, Colapinto. You’re a proper driver now.”

Franco chuckled, but when he looked at me, his expression softened. “Yeah, but it’s not just the points. Today… everything about it just feels right.”

I raised an eyebrow, playfully tilting my head. “Oh yeah? What’s so special about it?”

His eyes met mine, and for a moment, I could see past all the flirting and teasing to something deeper. “You,” he said simply, stepping closer. “This.”

I blinked, my heart stumbling over itself at the sincerity in his voice. “Oh stop it…”

“I’m serious,” he interrupted gently, his voice dropping lower. “Today was incredible. But I’ve been wanting this moment with you for a while. And tonight… it’s just perfect.”

There it was again—that raw honesty that caught me off guard. He wasn’t playing games, wasn’t teasing. He meant it.

“I didn’t think anything could top your race today,” I said quietly, unable to tear my gaze away from him.

Franco smiled, his hand finding its way to my waist, pulling me a little closer. “The points were great. But this? Being here with you? This is better.”

His words sent a shiver down my spine, and before I knew it, we were kissing again. But this time, it was slower, more deliberate. The heat from earlier gave way to something softer, something that made my heart ache in the best way possible.

When we finally pulled back, I rested my forehead against his, still catching my breath. “Guess today really was your day, huh?”

Franco chuckled, his hand gently brushing my hair back. “Yeah. And it’s not over yet.”

[anundyingfidelity]

DO YOU HATE ME THAT MUCH? — Billy Butcher

Summary: Butcher gives orders for you to stay back from the fight. You hardly comply and prove differently; he starts thinking in a very improper manner about you.

Pairing: Billy Butcher x female!supe reader.

Word count: 2k.

Warnings: smut!! hate sex, unprotected sex, fingering, enemies to fuck buddies, reader can control blood and explode shit (like Victoria Neuman lol), the usual mentions of violence.

Notes: this is a request made by @thatcharmingmushroom for my 400 followers drabbles celebration. I'm sorry I took soooo damn long on this, but I hope you like it and thank you so much for the idea because I had so much fun with it! I picked the Herogasm episode for this tho hehe

☕ if you like my writing support me with a ko-fi !

GEN MASTERLIST!

taglist is here!

On the hunt for Payback, you made your way to infiltrate Herogasm along with Butcher, Hughie and the new asshole, Soldier Boy, not caring that the British dick ordered you a thousand times to stay back.

For different reasons, you were kind of forced to stay with the team, and while you didn’t really get along with any of them, Butcher was by far the one you hated the most. And, in the end, when Soldier Boy burned the whole place to the ground with a blast and Homelander arrived, you couldn’t stand there doing nothing. While the three men tried to hold down Homelander, you used your blood to create strong whips around his limbs, trying to tie him to the ground as Soldier Boy prepared to blast, yet again.

But just in seconds, Homelander recharged himself and pushed them all aside, cutting your whips, and flashing you quickly with his heat vision before storming out. Your blood blades barely made it to the hole he left in the roof as the supe just disappeared, flying away like a scared bitch.

“Well,” you started after an instant of staying silent. “I guess we fucking failed.”

Butcher shot you a dark glare as he walked straight until he stopped in front of you. “You shouldn’t be here,” he whispered.

You held his eyes as he towered you with his broad figure. He looked even more intimidating now he started playing the supe, injecting himself with Compund V. “I don’t care.”

There was this smug smirk on his face as you talked back. You knew he hated you; you knew you hated him. But as fucking weird your powers were, controling blood and exploding people with their own, Butcher found you interesting and stupidly astonishing. But of course, he wasn’t going to admit it. They were just intrusive thoughts about you and how hot you were, defying his direct orders of strictly not coming to the supe-orgy. Yeah, Homelander was a fucking cunt, and he would take care of Soldier Boy soon too. Right now, he just needed something to take the stress out after another stupid failure. His hand would work later once back at the motel, he decided.

Butcher leaned down, until his lips almost brushed the shell of your ear. “We’ll see about that.”

“Why do I have to keep listening to you?” you asked as Butcher followed back to the motel.

You stopped right out of your door, because of course you weren’t going to share a room with him and the old asshole. Hughie, who went inside their room, was the only decent human being between all of them, but still, you had to take care of yourself from those fuckers. Besides, the British idiot wouldn’t stop the verbal vomiting the whole fucking trip and you were growing sick of it.

“Because, for starters, you’re a fucking newbie here,” Butcher replied, smirking hatefully. “And second, your powers are fucking out of control. You need training and keep your mouth shut.”

You rolled your eyes, showing him your wrists. “I already healed myself from the cuts I made. Perhaps I should use your blood next time?”

“No, there’s no next time for you.”

“You don’t decide that, Butcher,” you crossed your arms over your chest, tired of being treated like a stupid kid. “I’m helping on this, I want him dead. And if any of you idiots don’t kill him, then I will.”

He curved an eyebrow, not showing any signs of being taken aback at your words, but inside, he was just in awe as before. You really hated Homelander as much as he did, however, you didn’t have a fucking plan. You would attack first, ask questions later. In any way, since when could he care about that? He had no idea.

“Hey,” Soldier Boy talked behind Butcher and stepped in closer between both of you. “You fucking stay back from this, you ain’t doing shit with your blood whips.”

Furious, you motioned your hand to draw fresh blood from a wound on his cheek and created a sharp blade, cutting his skin lightly. Soldier Boy clenched his jaw before smirking at you.

“Talk to me like that ever again and I’ll blow your dick, and not the way you like it,” you warned through your teeth.

Soldier Boy wiped the blood off the fresh wound, and smiled anew before patting Butcher on the shoulder. “She’s all yours, pal.”

With that, the old supe disappeared in the next room. You just wanted this to be over, so you turned around to get inside your room, but Butcher wouldn’t leave you alone just yet, putting his foot between the door and the frame, holding it with his super strength.

“What the fuck you want now?!” you yelled at him as he made his way inside, slamming the door closed.

“Imma have to call the fucking CIA if you don’t calm down your ass,” he threatened between his teeth.

“You wouldn’t-”

“I can, and I fucking will,” he insisted, taking slow strides, making you step back from him until your back met the wall.

His eyes were getting dangerously dark and you could smell the sweat and dry blood coming from him. You noticed his pulse was increasing, and you grinned. Your mind jumped to an unsafe place where you probably knew what Butcher was feeling right now. The heat and coming down the high of what could have been the end of both yours and his enemy was too much to burden. Little did he know that you were the kind of person that used to take out the stress with something, or someone. Just like him.

“From one to ten, how much do you hate me?” you asked all of the sudden, looking straight into his eyes.

Butcher’s fierceful gaze turned into confusion. “What?”

“How fucking much do you hate me?” you repeated yourself steadier.

Butcher rolled his eyes before answering in a whisper. “I’d choose a one thousand scale for that.”

“Good, I hate you too,” you replied with a smirk before pulling him for a kiss that turned heated too fast, but you didn’t care.

You needed release. Something quick, hard and hot to take it out of your system. He was perfect for the task, and by the way his tongue tasted your mouth, you found out that he wouldn’t step back. At least you hoped so. The tension between both of you was so damn sharp and it was just a matter of time for that bomb to explode, and you preferred it this way instead of fighting each other to death.

Gripping the neck of his shirt to get even closer as you kissed, Butcher’s hands roamed all over your hips, running on your sides until he met the flesh of your ass on your jeans, pressing you towards his chest. You gasped against his mouth when he started to unzip your pants, you worked immediately on the buttons of his shirt. Desperately, you discharged his shirt, the fabric being followed to his pants, and he undressed you with the same eagerness until you were only panties and bra.

Butcher lifted you up from the ground, hands on your thighs as he guided you to the mattress. He crawled on top of you, spreading your legs with his big, rough hands and leaning down to lick down at your chest and rip your bra off. His action made you gasp out loud at the same time he sucked on a nipple like a starved man.

“You're a fucking beast,” you whimpered, feeling his hands peeling off your panties and leaving you completely exposed at his mercy.

You tugged at his jeans and he pulled them down along with his boxers as quickly as he could, taking out his dick with that smug smile on his stupid face. He noticed your eyes taking the sight of his half nakedness, biting your lip slightly once you focused on his hard cock pressing on your crotch. It only made you wet.

“Well, I plan to fuck you like one,” he said, grabbing the back of your legs and rubbing the tip of his cock against your wet folds.

“Show me, don’t talk- fuck!”

You let out a rather loud moan when he rubbed your clit with his fingers, playing with your entrance until he inserted a single, thick digit in your pussy. Butcher stretched you out with a finger, then slid a second one, scissoring them to reach your deepest spots as your walls clenched around his digits. You kept whimpering and moaning as he increased the thrusts of his hand.

“Bloody fuck, these are the only sounds I like coming from your mouth, luv,” he hissed, sensing that you almost came on his fingers.

Right before you reached your high, he pulled out and you groaned in annoyance, feeling empty once again.

“Shit,” you breathed out.

He positioned between your legs anew, getting comfortable as he started to push his tip against your slit. The grip of his hands on your thighs became a little harsh once he entered you slowly, the thickness of his cock splitting you open.

“What a tight cunt I always knew you’d be,” he grunted, filling you up completely and leaning down to mark your neck with his teeth.

His mouth and thrusts earned him your sweet moans as he fucked you senseless. The burning soon turned into pleasure. Your nails scratched his back while moaning incoherent words. His hands on your thighs would leave marks on your skin, but it felt so damn good. You needed a little bit of pain to remind you that you were alive, rotting for that sweet bliss only sex could give you.

Moans escaped from your throat and mingled with his deep groans and the sound of your skin against his own, the headboard of the bed hitting the wall with every of his hard thrusts. You pulled him down for a wet kiss when you felt closer and closer to come undone.

“Fuck, I’m so close,” you gasped.

Butcher increased the rhythm of his thrusts, his cock throbbing as your walls started to clench around him.

“You’ll be the death of me,” he mumbled against your mouth.

“Do you still hate me?” you asked, trying to catch your breath. You reached down to rub your clit. You were so close, almost there.

“If I keep fucking you like this then I might change my mind- holy fuck!”

In that moment, you came hard with a string of curses and clenching your walls around his cock. The pound of his hips increased and he fucked you through your orgasm to reach his own. You continued rubbing your clit, fingers finding the place where you two connected, meeting his cock coated with your juices when he pulled out just slightly to slam back inside again.

Butcher emptied his cum inside you, mumbling dirty words against your ear. His rhythm slowing down eventually, fucking his seed in your pussy. Once he came down from his high, he pulled out and rolled by your side on the bed. Your body started to ache but in the best way possible. It was the best fuck you had in a long time. After a couple of minutes in complete silence you decided to talk, eyes fixed on the ceiling.

“I hope you keep hating on me…”

He turned slightly to see your blank face. “Why?”

“I love hate-fucking.”

He scoffed with a smile curving on his lips. “You bet I enjoyed this too.”

Within a second, you climbed on top of him. Thighs straddling his lap as you rubbed your cunt on his soft cock.

“Second round? You can eat me out and suck your cum out of me,” you gave him a wink, rolling your hips and leaning down for a quick kiss.

“Dirty girl,” Butcher whispered on your lips. “Perhaps put your mouth into good use.”

“I like how that sounds,” you smiled back at him.

Billy Butcher taglist

@delaynew

@thesilmarillionblog

@feyresqueen

@drasticemotions

[felibrary]

╭──╯ DOCTOR'S PRESCRIPTION !

PAIRING: jiaoqiu x gn!reader

SYNOPSIS: how does a healer heal himself when he falls ill? the answer is he doesn't, after all, you're here to take care of him!; alternatively your boyfriend's sick, and despite all his refusals you insist on taking care of him.

WORDCOUNT: 1.2k | CONTENT & WARNINGS: did i play the tb mission yet..no, did i still write this? yes cause i just man idek okay, jiaoqiu might be ooc, banter and bickering and just tooth-rotting fluff (and jiaoqiu rots in bed..literally lol)

TAGS: @azullumi (i hate all of your fans for choosing the blind date one. reject them exes and bring back hanahaki diseases and yearning 🔥🔥)

AUTHORS NOTE: the closed eyes remind me of jouno. jiaoqiu pls dont die. also im trying to be more dialogue-centrish here cause im not familiar with his character yet soooo no metaphors for now

“jiaoqiu, would it kill you to stay in bed for at least once?”

the scent of freshly brewed green tea and aromatic congee slowly fills the air and you lean back against the counter, with your hands on the surface of the kitchen island and a deadpan expression you stare right at your boyfriend who has only woken up now.

an expression that brings no good settles onto jiaoqiu’s face. “do you need help?” jiaoqiu smiles mirthfully and without hearing your answer he swiftly brushes past you. in the blink of an eye, jiaoqiu picks up the kitchen knife lying on the cutting board before expertly chopping the spring onions into thin rings to later sprinkle over the congee.

he cannot be serious right now.

you have to prevent yourself from sighing out loud before grabbing him by the shoulders to make him turn around  “stop being so stubborn and return to bed,” you’re not sure if the reason you’re heating is up due to the congee whose heat is emitting into the air, the close proximity between you and jiaoqiu that makes your heart skip a beat or two, or the fact that jiaoqiu’s sick and is probably spreading his sickness over to you. 

the latter sounds the most reasonable. 

as it seems (and as expected) your demand goes in one (or well two) ears and out of the other one(s). “and since when are you the doctor?” his cheeky tone and the smirk he throws you are both infuriating. “but, i guess i’m lucky to have such a smart and not to mention beautiful partner who cares about my well-being,” he remarks lovingly. 

“you think you can bribe me with sugar-coated words?” as sweet as he might be, you won’t let him off the hook so easily. after all, he also deserves to rest, especially when sick. 

someone who only takes care of others and their well-being but never their own, will meet their demise sooner than those who constantly seek out help, due to never confiding in others when facing hardships.

“i’m simply stating the truth.” he chortles gleefully, tilting his head to the side while doing so.

“what a charmer you are,” you reply dryly before taking a few steps away from him. “anyway, as you’ve already mentioned your oh-so-smart and beautiful partner cares about your well-being, so i ask you to go back to bed, and get your well-deserved rest,” you quickly change the subject.

ironically nothing escapes jiaoqiu’s attentive gaze, so you wouldn’t be surprised if he’d noticed the rosy tint on your ears by now. but even if that were the case he doesn’t seem to pay any mind to it.

“as much as i appreciate your concern, there’s really no need. i’ve experienced much worse and more severe illnesses. a little fever won’t be the death of me.” jiaoqiu shrugs in simplicity, brushing it off as no big deal.

“you’re such a handful to deal with sometimes,” you mumble under your breath before swiftly pressing your hand onto his forehead and withdrawing it as quickly. “jiaoqiu. you’re literally burning up.” 

you don’t wait for him to respond — you won’t give him the time to respond before reaching down and searching for his hand. his lithe fingers find yours and you carefully lace them together before guiding (dragging) him back to the bedroom and forcing him to lie back down as you crouch at his side.

the wet towel that sits all scrunched up in the plastic bowl right next to his bed seems all wrung out already catches your attention and you sigh. “sorry, that i didn’t come earlier to refresh the water,” jiaoqiu’s ears perk up at your apologetic tone and he smiles. “don’t worry about it.”

“stay here, i’ll get you a new one. don’t move while i’m gone okay? just try to relax a bit.” the only thing you receive as a form of acknowledgment is a quiet hum before rushing off to the bathroom to fill the bowl with new cold water.

you return just as quickly as you left and begin to wring the piece of cloth and fold it into a rectangle before placing it onto jiaoqiu’s forehead. “is this okay?” you ask, carefully brushing the strands of hair that stick to the damp towel away. again, a mere hum is the only answer you receive from him.

as you’re reminded of the green tea and congee that are still in the kitchen you jump up. “right i almost forgot the food, i’ll go and get it. wait here for me.” you turn around and before you can even fully leave the room, a whine of your name makes you turn around.

“can you turn the pillow for me? this side is too warm.” your boyfriend starts to complain and you can’t help but stare (in surprise or irritation, you don’t know — maybe both.) you help your boyfriend up and make him lean against the headboard as he continuously holds the wet towel against his forehead. “here,” you present him and he smiles in satisfaction. 

he settles back into bed you assume he has no more requests thus you decide to leave and reside in the kitchen once more. the aroma of spices fills your nose once more and you can’t help but smile as you take the lid of the pot off before using a ladle to scoop the congee into a bowl. 

you reach for a porcelain cup and pour the green tea into it before placing it on a tray with the congee to bring it to jiaoqiu.

as soon as you enter his room, jiaoqiu’s ears perk up. “i’ve missed you,” he expresses wholeheartedly and that makes your heart melt. it’s these moments where you get reminded how lucky to have him. “so now that you’re back can you turn my pillow around again? this side heated up much faster than anticipated.”

okay so maybe you weren’t that grateful to have him.

you sigh and put the tray down on his (unexpectedly but pleasing) tidy desk, normally it would’ve been filled with a bunch of different notes and recipes for both meals and medicines, but it’s exceptionally organized today. 

once again you help your boyfriend once again by flipping his pillow before grabbing the bowl of congee and handing it to him. upon him not accepting, let alone acknowledging the food before him, you furrow your eyebrows in confusion.

“what? do you want me to feed you next princess?” you scoff and although your remark is sarcastic, jiaoqiu can’t help but smile cheekily. “well if you’re already offeri-” he doesn’t get to finish his sentence before you shove the metal spoon full of congee into his mouth which slightly catches him off guard and makes him open his eyes for a split second.

although you’ve seen his eyes countless times, you can’t help but admire them. his eyes resemble honey, beautiful and golden but also sickeningly sweet and addicting. “you know you’re so much more beautiful when you shut up for once,” you tease.

Jiaoqiu detaches himself from the spoon and scoffs. “should’ve added black pepper instead of white pepper. you know that i favor intense flavors over mild ones.” he complains and you can’t help but crack a smile. ”stop being a picky eater and eat.”

END NOTE: this has been sitting in my drafts since June 21 LMFAO but yeah here it is!! also does this look proofread to yall cause it really isn't its quite literally 3am and school's starting next week. my sleeping schedule's so fucked up I'm crying. but shoutouts to Grammarly for proofreading tho fawk u for saying i need Grammarly pro to see my other 92 mistakes like okay. in this economy??

© VYNICITY 2024. stealing, copying, translating, reposting my works on other platforms or feeding them to ai is not permitted.

[parfaitblogs]

oh no! 𝜗𝜚 s. reid x reader

in which you cut your bangs yourself, but this time it goes horribly wrong.

spencer reid x fem!reader. fluff. 0.4k words. established relationship. reader has bangs. lol.

a/n: trying a new blurb format?? do we like?? i spent too much time colouring the spencer reid's in this... every two weeks i play a game called how much worse can i cut my bangs... so here's a blurb of reader doing just that xoxo

spencer reid who comes home from work one day to you sitting on the couch, bawling your eyes out with a blanket wrapped around your body and a hideous looking beanie on your head. who puts his bag down with an effort so gentle you wouldn't even realise he had seen you until he's wrapping his arms around you from behind the couch. 

who asks you oh so quietly "why're you crying, honey?" and you fail at doing anything less than a stammer of a response until you resort to pointing to the beanie on your head. spencer reid who audibly laughs when you swat his hands away the second he tries to pull the beanie off your head, and so this time he asks very politely if he can see what's underneath the beanie. and you say yes, because he had come around to the front of the couch and he was kneeling in front of you and staring up at you with those stupid fucking eyes.

spencer reid who vowed to never cover any micro expression he ever made around you after an argument months and months ago, wishing he had never made that promise because good god it was awful and his face had twitched in humour at the sight of it, and now you were crying again because "he knew it was awful!"

spencer reid who gently pries your hands from your teary face and moves up onto the couch, brushing unevenly cut bangs out of your face so he could properly look at you, promising that he will help you fix them because he has had so much experience with cutting his own hair — it's true! — and they really aren't as bad as it looks. spencer reid who murmured that "they just need a little shaping" which he had said seriously, but now you were giggling because you got to reply with "to the salon!" and he was very confused as to what you were talking about. but you were smiling again, which was a good enough sign for him to take it, confusion be damned. 

and spencer reid who reframed your face with the pair of scissors kept in the bathroom for whenever he needed to cut his hair and didn't have time for a barber visit, and fixed up the uneven length of the bangs he oh so adored on you, until you were grinning at your reflection again.

so he gratefully accepted the kisses all over his face and neck and everywhere else you gave him in thanks for his service, until you were out of breath and he was quite happy to take over.

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated dearly ♡