#seriously this will ruin your teeth

[sunnami]

the 5 times you did (not) love each other and the 1 time you did.

summary. as the title suggests. this one was a request! i hope you enjoyed my version of this anon.

pairing/s. poly!marauders + lily / reader.

wc. 4.1k

tags. hurt/comfort, angst, peter pettigrew mention, not proofread, like seriously, fluff, happy ending.

cws: brief mention of violence and blood.

note: i am alive?? crazy. i began this fic, whilst sick, around august, nursing the worst headache ever. i wrote the middle of this fic, sick. and i think it's only fitting that i finished this fic. sick... honestly, i did not proofread any of this, i just know i lowkey love it. after the first one-thousand words, i just spiral and become delirious, so i don't even know what happened here. my first request finished! yippee! and thank you all for 2k :< i love you all so much.

i. 

SIRIUS BLACK did not love you—not even close, not even a little bit. Not even at all.

After Peter Pettigrew’s slight against his family, Sirius would never hold warmth or pity for the skittish mouse ever again. He was played for a fool. And, he did not know which betrayal had hurt more. Peter’s—or yours. (Had you known all along of your adoptive brother’s plans? Did you not think for one second that Sirius would, without a sliver of hesitation, put himself in the way of a killing curse to keep you safe? He’d have died before ever letting the fire in your eyes wither to ashes. Clearly, you did not share the same sentiment.) 

He wanted nothing to do with you. Ever. And if the rat-bastard dared to show his face, not even Death would know where to put Peter’s body to rest. Sirius would keep him alive until he begged for death—until the idea of living frightened him more than dying. And for you—beholder of his heart, captor of his soul, and co-possessor of his mind—he could only hope that you stayed far away. You had wrecked him—all of them. 

He wanted—

He did not know what he wanted. 

For when it came to you, Sirius Black was reduced to a man wandering the deserts—mistaking clouds for water, and the sands for grass blades. You had ravaged every fiber of his being; consumed his every thought and word. The most ironic part of all was that if you had been the one standing there—Sirius would have let you Avada him. Dumbledore could scold him in the afterlife—Sirius could care less. He’d have snapped his wand in half and asked someone else to fight you because Sirius had vowed from the moment he met you that he would never harm a hair on your head. He would never be the reason that tears stained your pretty cheeks. 

Well, apparently, trust and promises were not worth a damn thing nowadays. 

No, he did not love you—even as you stood on the steps of Grimmauld, your hair ruined by the downpour of rain. Your lips bruised and bitten from a nervous habit Sirius had yet to break out of you. 

“I didn’t know, Sirius,” you whispered—your voice the only sound falling on his ears amidst all the thunder and lightning. He only saw you. “Y-You have to believe me. If I knew—Gods, I would have told Dumbledore in a heartbeat. Fuck. I thought you knew me better than that.” 

He thought so, too. 

“Did you know?” Sirius began, taking a step forward and into the storm, a demeaning sneer on his lips. “That when Voldemort stood in our home, your portrait was right behind him? That was all I could look at. If I had died—you would have been the last thing I saw.” 

You had not replied. 

Sirius grit his teeth. “Go,” he said, voice hoarse. 

“Go!” he yelled, grateful for the rain as it masked his own tears as you flinched from the sound of his voice. Not the thunderclap, the lightning strike—but it was him who scared you. 

(But you had done so first.) 

When you apparated away, Sirius crumbled to the ground and pounded his fists against the asphalts where you were moments ago, screaming and cursing until he saw blood flowing with the rainwater.

It was laughable, really. The way he did not love you. 

It was not love that drove him to madness, pummeling Gideon Prewett into a bloody pulp for mentioning your name during a meeting with the Order. He had presumed you to be a Death Eater alongside your brother—Sirius instantly saw nothing but red. (He condemned Bellatrix, his own cousin, for becoming a madwoman. Yet, here he was, unraveled by the very thought of you. The very whisper of your name.) 

But whatever it was that had turned him into a fool and a hypocrite all at once, it was not love. 

ii. 

JAMES POTTER had no love for you—make no mistake about that. He loved love, and he did so fiercely and truthfully. But you and Peter had broken his trust—defiled his loyalty from the moment your brother had brought Voldemort to his doorstep. (Did you know that as he begged and screamed for Lily to hide with their son, Harry—he thought of you? For a fleeting moment, he saw your face, marked by fear and tear-rimmed eyes. And James knew straight away that he would spit on Tom Riddle’s bare feet if only to keep his family safe. If only to see you once more. Alive and well. But, you must not have thought the same—if you had conspired with Peter to sell him and Lily out to the Devil reborn.) 

The thought of you breathing was enough to keep James alive. 

But, that was not love. It was a mockery of it. 

No, he did not feel so much as a twinge of emotion for you. Not even as Mad-Eye Moody brought your limp body back to Grimmauld. It was not love that threatened the magic in his being—that simmered in his blood until the painted walls saw an indent of his fist. (“Poor thing,” McGonagall cooed as she pressed her palm over your forehead. Despite some of the members’ growing distrust for you, you still took an Unforgivable in their stead. “We can only wait. . . Four Cruciatus curses. . .”) 

What more did James need to want to rip Peter apart limb by limb? 

It was not love that rooted his feet by your side. Sitting hunched on a chair too small for his height, bags beneath his eyes, and the pale of his lips becoming noticeable to everyone who spoke to him. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered to you lovelessly—hands desperately clutching your own. Sirius stood across the room, arms crossed over his chest, dagger-like eyes waiting for so much as a twitch of your finger. “I’m sorry.”

It was a plea this time.

He only hoped you did not ask him to love you. For James could give you the world, hand-pick the stars, and burrow his body deep beneath the ground if you had asked for it—but he could not love you. 

Everyone had told him not to hope that you would wake up. That your pretty eyes would not flutter open, and you would no longer look at him as you had before. But James was stubborn. He was selfish as he was stubborn. He did not love you—but he needed to hear the sound of your voice. And James would take it any way that he could. The soft cadence of a whisper, or a rough utterance of a single word. Molly Weasley told him to accept reality for what it was. (“You need sleep, dear,” the matriarch fussed. “There’s nothing we can do. Look at the Longbottoms. . . We can do no more for this one as we had done for them.”) 

In the still of the night, he left his reveries on the cold of your skin. “Wake up,” he demanded. 

“Wake up or else you’re the traitor everyone thinks you are,” James hissed. 

But his words held no heat—and his heart held no love for you. 

Make no mistake about that.

Then, when you finally woke up, disoriented and throat parched—a hazy recollection of the weeks before—James made sure that no more than four people could enter the room. He did not care if a hurricane, or if Voldemort himself—James had faced him once already, after all—threatened to break the door down. You were theirs to protect.

 (But not to love.) 

“We need to begin the questioning, James, you know that,” said Kingsley Shacklebolt, almost exasperatedly; weary lines written across his face. James would not allow even a toe beyond the doorway. An interrogation meant you had something to do with the attempted murder of James and his family. Whether or not you were innocent, James did not care—he just wanted you safe. 

(And a small part of him already knew that you were not your brother’s keeper. Just as they had absolved Sirius of his family’s sins. It would be unfair to not show you the same grace. But before his mind knew that, James’s heart and soul had known the truth all along.) 

He found Sirius gently tending to your every need, and already James knew that was Padfoot’s way of begging for forgiveness. The ebony-haired man hung onto your every word. He winced when you flinched, and pressed his apologies to your forehead, rasping for a kindness he did not deserve. Not after what he did. How he turned you away and cursed your name. How they betrayed you. 

James did not love you. 

But what else could he call the manacles that bound his hands and forced him to his knees when it came to you? 

Not. Love. 

iii. 

REMUS LUPIN could not bring himself to love you. But, he could not love Sirius, Lily, and James either. He was undeserving of such a privilege. But he was not allowed to love you; Remus could only hope that you saw even a shred of worth in him—to wrest each word from his lips and every breath from his lungs. But, he did not love you. No. 

Because loving you meant he was to tell you of your brother’s crimes. And Remus could not hurt you like that. 

“P-Peter?” you had asked, wearing the eyes of a fretful sibling. Remus lifted his hand to tuck a strand of hair gone astray behind your ear. Bellatrix had done a number on you—just as she had done to Alice and Frank. Remus was fairly certain that Sirius was off on a hunt for his cousin, his mind toyed with by the barbarity of war. What they could not do for the Longbottoms, they’d wring themselves dry to do for you. After the Lestranges’ attack, you suffered damage to your throat and memories. Remus could not bear to see you in such pain. 

He could not give you love, but Remus would offer up to you his every limb, and the weary skin upon his bones. 

“They. . .” Remus grimaced. How could he act as the bearer of bad news? He’d rather dive headfirst into shark-infested waters. Be anywhere else but here. In fact, Remus would rather snatch you away from the funereal walls, and hold you in his arms in the quietude of dawn, than be the one to bring anguish to your eyes. “They’re looking for him at the moment, love.” 

One question lingered in your eyes: Why? 

Luckily, Sirius was always the better one at sharpening a blunt knife. “He was a traitor,” he spat like acid. “A traitor to the Order. A traitor to us. He’s no friend of ours. Not anymore.” 

But Sirius knew—better than anyone else—how difficult it can be to truly hate little brothers, especially once they’ve gone. 

“No. . .” You trembled, almost retching as you sobbed into your palms. 

Remus held you then, the front of his shirt soaked in your tears, eyes firmly shut as you trembled and heaved in his arms. The sound of your guttural screams bounced off the four walls, and Remus had to bury his nose in your hair. You were alive. Safe. Breathing. But you felt cold as ice; an empty husk stripped bare for grief to take over. And Remus could do nothing but hold you. (He just hoped that wherever Peter Pettigrew was, Remus would not be the first one to find him. Otherwise, they would not be able to recover even a fingernail from his remains.)

“Hush, love,” Remus whispered into your ear as you cried yourself sick. Mourning the loss of your brother, reeling from the betrayal of a bond that was supposed to be stronger than blood. Remus would make him pay, he vowed as much to you. No, Remus and the wolf in him did not know how to love. But he knew how to hurt. And, that, he’d gladly do for you. His body was for you to use as a shield, his soul for you to strip bare, and his heart for you to thieve and never return. 

“Don’t cry,” said James, a shadow cast over his frames. “Not for Peter. Never. Fucking bastard will get what’s coming to him.” He laid on the vacant space of the bed, gently untangling your hands that were pressed over your heart. “I’ll make sure of it.”

They all would.

But not because they loved you. 

It was not out of love, Remus had to remind himself in the coming days, when he stayed diligently by your side as you recovered. Daily sessions with the best healer St. Mungo’s could offer—as if James would allow anything else. There were days your eyes would glaze over, your words rough and sluggish, and Remus would try his damndest to make you smile. 

It was the least he could do. 

For failing to protect you. 

But that was not love. 

(It was hope. Wretched, disastrous hope as he fell to his knees, and your name in between his teeth.)

iv. 

LILY EVANS was a fighter in all the ways that mattered. 

And from the very first moment she held Harry in her arms, eyes raking over his wrinkly, bloodied skin; all ten fingers and toes, her soft cries over his loud screaming—Lily knew she would trade her life for his in a heartbeat. Little, lovely eyes that would soon see the world in his own time. Lily adored him. Cherished every tear, snore, and giggle. She knew then, that a mother’s love was entirely different from any emotion she’d ever felt before. 

This was proven the first time Harry had gotten seriously ill. A few weeks after the attempted murder on the Potters, Harry was ceaselessly crying—screaming, even, every night—red-faced as he fussed every breakfast and dinner. Lily found herself at wit’s end. Her protectiveness had gone up a hundred measures; wouldn’t let anyone besides family or Madam Pomfrey see Harry. Yet, even with all the draughts and silly-flavoured syrups, Harry wasn’t getting better. 

“Lily dear, you cannot actually be thinking about this,” worried Molly Weasley as Lily stood in front of your door, holed away in the room where you had been recovering for the last few days. It would be the first time she saw you since the incident. More than anything she was afraid. Frightened that you would look at her differently. Whether or not that fear stemmed from love, Lily was not concerned. “We can call for another Healer from Mungo’s to have a look at Harry. . . Who knows what might. . .” 

Lily held Harry closer to her, lips firmly pressed, attempting to ignore the way his temperature was unnaturally high. “Might what, Mrs. Weasley?” She knew Molly was only talking out of concern, from a mother’s perspective at least. But she knew you better than anyone else. You would never hurt her, or Harry, that much she was certain of. And if you were the traitor everyone else was afraid of accusing you of, a sentence delivered by association to Peter—then let the guillotine fall, Lily would carry your crimes for you. 

She remembered ever-so clearly in her sixth-year, you with dreams glistening in your eyes. (“I’m going to be a Healer, Lils! Minnie said I’d be a great one. . . I want to protect those I love. . . I know I can do it. . . Oh, I can’t wait to tell Peter that I’ve gotten recommendations already to work at Mungo’s after graduation.”) 

And Lily recalled at that moment, she had felt a different kind of emotion that she had never experienced before. It was not love, of course. Tuney said she was too young and too stupid to know what real love was. But, at sixteen, what else could describe the way her heart fluttered and the way her lips threatened to break out into a smile whenever you lit up talking about your future? (It was just a crush, young Lily told herself.)

Only to be crushed and cast aside in the face of the war, where fighters took their place at the forefront of the lines, mothers and children hid; healers stretching themselves thin to be here, there, everywhere; where traitors walked in plain sight. 

“There is no one else I trust more with my life,” replied Lily. 

And that was that. 

Lily skirted around Molly and opened the door to your room, where Sirius, James, and Remus all stood at attention at the sight of her and Harry. She ignored them, and headed straight to your side. 

“Hello, love,” she greeted with all the gentleness she was made of, a smile creeping up to her eyes as Lily watched you turn your head at the sound of her voice. Truth be told, she did not know what her end-goal was in coming here. But being by your side had always made life a little more bearable, like all the illnesses in the world could not bring her down. And so, her magic had instinctively summoned her person to you. She, at least, was relieved to see colour returning to your cheeks, though the red in your eyes had dulled the hues she adored so much. 

“Is that. . .?” you croaked. 

Lily nodded. “Harry, meet—” 

One of the loves of my life, the most loyal and pure witch anyone ever has the privilege of meeting, someone I want to stay in my life forever. 

Lily’s smile wilted. “A friend.” 

Later, she would place Harry in your arms—her little hope embraced by her dream—and Lily would wonder if it was by pure magic that Harry calmed in your presence. 

For if love could hurt and destroy, could it mend and heal the broken as well?

But what a shame, for not one in that room carried an ounce of love for you.

(She would die for Harry, yes—but she would live for you.)

v. 

YOU did not love them, either. 

The very idea, thought—insinuation—was absurd. (Why, they deserved much better than you, after all.) With hands that failed to protect them, were you even allowed to hold them anymore? Did your heart have the right to breathe for them? You had failed as a sister and a friend—how much more would you have failed as their lover? Well, you’d never know. 

Because you did not love them. 

Merely wished them happiness and for the world to extend them kindness. For the sun to look brightly down on them, and for time to heal their scars and wounds. For if they were in pain, the earth would stop spinning. But such a request was not borne from love. 

Surely not. 

Because, then, that would have meant that it was love that teared you apart when Sirius cursed your name, when James turned you away, when Remus could not look you in the eyes, or when Lily—for all your history together—called you a friend. 

The whole of you was made by the parts of them. Each memory welded into the crevices of your soul. From the moment you had all found each other in the same train compartment, same common room—there was a shift in the fates that bound all five of you together. (The ties were red, but the thread was not of love.) You did not believe in Professor Trelawney’s talks of providence and destiny. 

Because if you did, then why was the universe so cruel? 

Falling—not in love—for four people who could very much do without you in their lives. Lacking severely as a sister to the point you had not noticed your brother fading and fading away into the shadows. 

Was love that unkind? That merciless? 

Then, you did not want to love at all. 

Oh, but magic or not, every creature on this earth selfish. 

You were no different. 

You wanted. 

Oh, how you yearned. 

“I LOVE YOU.” 

You barely had enough time to react before Sirius pressed his lips to the side of your head, arm covertly sneaking around your waist. The sound of the train whistling as parents yelled their goodbyes filled the station. You stood in the midst of the crowd, eyes never leaving one window in particular as you waved at Harry, now eleven-years-old and now off to Hogwarts. 

“Quite a random thing to say, husband,” you murmured, leaning into his warmth. “What for?” 

“Just because,” he replied in turn with a fiendish grin. “Well, perhaps for choosing us, for choosing me despite all my fuck-ups. For existing. For being the beautiful, wonderful, kind, precious you. I could keep on going, my darling. Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?” 

You wrinkled your nose, eyes rolling from fondness. “I love you too, quite unfortunately.” 

He only laughed and pulled you closer to him. “Let’s go home.” 

–

“I love you.” 

In the house built by new memories, warded by stronger protection charms, and filled with warmth and love—James said this to you each morning before he left for the Ministry, promoted after the war as Head of Magical Law Enforcement. Not one foot out of the door until he had showered you in kisses and the symphonies of his heart. James had always been loud, even in his time at Hogwarts. The war had not taken this part of him, and you figured James was too loud to let it be taken from him. He was unapologetically and unabashedly him. 

And you had loved him fiercely for that. 

“I’ll be home early tonight,” he said, a quiet intimacy washing over the both of you. The early birds of the cottage. “Wait for me?”

“Of course,” you answered without an ounce of hesitation, delicately chasing after his lips. “I love you. Be safe.” 

-

“I love you.” 

“Are you saying that to me or are you reading from the book?” you teased from where you laid on Remus’s chest, hours after James left for work, the afternoon bringing you two together in the living room. Lily was in the gardens, and Sirius was in the shed working on his motorbike. It was perfect. You felt the rise and fall of Remus’s chest beneath you, his heartbeat close to your ear. He was perfect. It was a miracle you had not fallen asleep to the tender lull of his voice. 

“Both,” he responded, hand coming up to trace the bare of your skin—a miracle you did not crumble or burn instantly from his touch. 

You hummed. “Then, I love you, too.” Then, you grinned, lifting your head to stare up at him. “You have bewitched me, body and soul, and I love, I love, I love you.” 

And, oh, how photographs could not capture the beauty in Remus’s smile as his eyes regarded you with such fire.

“My heart, my light, my desire,” Remus began, one finger ever-so softly tracing the curve of your cheek. “In vain I have struggled, it will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.” 

–

“I love you.” 

Said Lily as she lied in your shared bed, red-nosed and her cheeks pale, sluggish. The Christmas holiday was generous enough to gift her with an unfortunate cold that had been going around the wizarding world. “But, please, go,” she commanded weakly, gesturing for you to join Harry who was stood by the door. “It’s a lovely day outside for making snowmen with carrots as noses and snow angels. Not for taking care of poor old me.” 

You rolled your eyes as you sat by her side, swiftly pressing a kiss to her forehead. “And I love you, which is why I would rather much be here, taking care of the prettiest snow angel to ever exist,” you countered, bringing a spoonful of broth to her lips. “Besides, Harry here has something to tell you. He’s made friends at school. One of them is Molly’s little one.” 

“Oh, you did?” Lily cooed, before sniffling weakly. “That’s lovely, darling. Tell me all about them.” 

“That’s not all, Lily mine,” you began mischievously as Harry’s eyes narrowed at you through his glasses. “This friendship apparently formed after fighting a troll.” 

“You what?” Lily croaked, emerald eyes shimmering with concern and near-dread. 

“Did you really, Harry?” James popped his head in the doorway, clapping his son on the shoulder before ushering him inside the room. A spitting image side-by-side as they took the empty space by the foot of the bed. “Good boy. Father approves.” 

“Of course you would,” Lily shot at him weakly, melting when Sirius then entered the room and greeted her with a kiss to her cheek. “And where are you all coming from?”

“Outside,” announced Remus, tugging his tie from his neck. “Sirius and I took a quick trip to Diagon Alley to get some things that’ll make you feel better, Lily love.” 

And as the snow fell outside, lazy winds against the window, your little family gathered in one room, there was one thing you knew for certain.

You loved them. 

And they loved you. 

a/n: i wrote all 4k words while sick. crazy. but anyway, i wanted to believe in love again so here i am. thank you all so much for being patient with me. i promise to do even better in the next fics!

[pucksandpower]

She’s a Menace

Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: Max has to deal with quite a distraction while on his sim (or in which there are definitely worse reasons to crash than you on your knees in front of him)

Warnings: 18+ content

Note: Max Verstappen is a four-time World Drivers’ Champion, so I leave you with this in celebration

Max squints at the screen, the blue glow of the monitors highlighting the concentration etched on his face. The steady hum of his sim rig fills the room as he grips the steering wheel, eyes locked on the track ahead. The chat is already buzzing with excitement, a stream of messages flowing faster than the race itself.

He leans forward slightly, a muscle in his jaw ticking as he pushes for the perfect line through the next corner. This is supposed to be a casual race with Team Redline, but Max never does anything halfway.

From the corner of his eye, he catches a flicker of movement. His heart stutters, but he keeps his gaze trained on the screen. Just focus. But then you’re there, slipping under his desk with the kind of stealth that makes him question how well he really knows you.

“Hey, what are you-” His voice is low, more of a mutter to himself as you settle in the cramped space, your hand resting lightly on his knee. He almost laughs at the absurdity, but then he feels the warmth of your palm through the fabric of his jeans, and his breath hitches.

“Max?” Your voice is sweet, innocent. The kind of innocent that makes his blood rush south.

“Not now,” he whispers harshly, trying to sound firm, but the effect is ruined by the way his voice catches on the last word. He clears his throat, gripping the wheel tighter. “I’m in the middle of a race.”

“I know,” you say, and he can practically hear the smile in your voice. “That’s why I’m here.”

His eyes flicker down for just a second — just a second — but it’s enough for him to miss his braking point. The car skids off track, and the chat explodes in a mixture of surprise and good-natured ribbing.

“Shit,” he mutters, jerking the wheel back to recover. He can hear his teammates’ voices through the headset, but they’re a distant buzz compared to the sensation of your fingers trailing up his thigh.

“What are you doing?” He hisses, trying to keep his voice low enough that it doesn’t pick up on the mic.

“Just helping,” you reply, your breath hot against his leg as you shift closer. “You seemed tense.”

“Tense?” He echoes, his voice tight with disbelief. “You’re not helping.”

“Are you sure?”

You lean in, your lips brushing against the inside of his knee, and he sucks in a sharp breath. His grip on the wheel falters, the car veering dangerously close to the edge of the track again.

“Stop,” he manages to say, but it’s more of a plea than a command. “Seriously, I-”

The next corner is coming up fast, too fast. He needs to focus, but then you lick a slow, deliberate line up his thigh, and it’s like every coherent thought evaporates from his brain. His foot jerks on the pedal, and the car slams into the wall with a crunch that makes him wince.

“Max, what the hell happened?” One of his teammates asks through the headset, genuine concern in his voice.

“Uh,” Max swallows, trying to keep his voice steady, “I think Sassy’s messing around. You know how she gets.”

“Sassy?” You repeat, muffling a laugh against his leg. “Really?”

Max doesn’t dare look down at you, his face burning as he tries to get the car back on track. “Yeah, Sassy,” he mutters under his breath. “She’s …you know …”

“A menace?” You offer, sliding your hand higher until it’s dangerously close to something that would definitely get picked up by the mic.

“Distracting,” he corrects, his voice cracking just slightly. “Very distracting.”

“Hmm.” You hum thoughtfully, your fingers tracing patterns that make his pulse race. “I thought you were good at handling distractions.”

Max clenches his teeth, trying to will away the flush spreading across his cheeks. “This is different,” he bites out, his knuckles white on the wheel. “You’re-”

He cuts off with a strangled noise as your lips brush against the zipper of his jeans. His head falls back for a split second, eyes squeezing shut. The chat is a blur, his teammates’ voices barely registering over the pounding of his heart.

“You okay there, Max?” Someone asks, clearly picking up on his unusual silence.

“Yeah, fine,” he says, forcing the words out in a breathless rush. “Just — Sassy’s really being a pain tonight.”

“Oh, Sassy’s being a pain, is she?” You tease, your fingers deftly working at his zipper.

Max’s heart leaps into his throat as he feels the fabric give way under your touch. “Don’t-” He starts, but it’s too late. You’re already working him free, your breath ghosting over his skin, and he feels like he might actually die right here, on stream, in front of thousands of people.

He can barely see the track now, his vision blurring at the edges as you take him into your mouth. The sensation is overwhelming, the wet heat of your tongue drawing a low, involuntary groan from his chest. He tries to bite it back, but it slips out before he can stop it.

The sound of his own voice brings him back to reality with a jolt, and he scrambles to mute the mic before anyone can ask questions. He fumbles, nearly dropping the wheel in the process, but finally manages to switch off his headset.

“God, you’re going to kill me,” he gasps, his voice hoarse as he looks down at you.

You pull back just enough to look up at him, your eyes gleaming with mischief. “You’re doing great, by the way. Really holding it together.”

“Barely,” he mutters, his hand slipping from the wheel to tangle in your hair. He knows he should stop you, that he should be focused on the race, but the way you’re looking at him — like this is all some delicious game — makes it impossible to think straight.

“You’re such a good driver, Max,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to the tip of him, and his whole body jerks in response. “But I wonder how good you are at multitasking.”

“I’m not,” he breathes out, his hand tightening in your hair. “I’m really not.”

“Sure you are.” You smile against him, and the sensation sends a shiver down his spine. “You just need a little more practice.”

“I’m going to crash again,” he warns, but it’s weak, almost a whimper as you take him deeper.

“Mmm,” you hum around him, and his hips buck involuntarily, the wheel spinning out of his grip as the car careens off the track once more.

He bites down on his lip so hard he tastes blood, but he can’t stop the moan that rumbles in his chest. “Fuck,” he mutters, his free hand gripping the edge of the desk like a lifeline. “Fuck, fuck-”

You pull back just enough to let your breath cool the wet skin, and his whole body shudders. “Max,” you purr, your voice a sinful mix of sweet and sultry. “What would Sassy think if she knew you were blaming her for this?”

“She-” His breath hitches as you lick a slow line up his length. “She would definitely not approve.”

“Maybe you should apologize to her later,” you suggest, and then you’re taking him back into your mouth, and he can’t think, can’t breathe, can’t do anything but fall apart.

“Yeah,” he gasps out, the word barely audible as you suck harder, your hand sliding up to cup him in a way that makes his vision go white at the edges. “Definitely. Later.”

You hum in agreement, the vibrations driving him to the edge faster than he’d like to admit. He knows he’s losing control, knows that anyone paying attention to his stream can see how erratic his driving has become, but he can’t bring himself to care.

All that matters is you, your mouth on him, your tongue working him in ways that make his toes curl inside his socks. His head drops back against the chair, his eyes fluttering shut as he lets himself drown in the sensation.

“Fuck, you’re-” he chokes out, the words getting lost in a strangled moan as you take him even deeper, your nose brushing against the base of him. He feels the world tilt on its axis, the car crashing into the wall once more, but it’s a distant concern, something he can’t even begin to process right now.

His hand tightens in your hair, guiding you, urging you on as he teeters on the brink. “I’m close,” he warns, his voice a desperate rasp. “So close-”

But you already know, you always know, and the way you speed up, the way you suck him in like you’re starving for it, pushes him right over the edge. His whole body tenses, his hips jerking as he comes with a guttural moan that he knows would have been embarrassing if he weren’t so far gone.

“Fuck,” he breathes out again, the word shaky as you continue to work him through it, your movements slow and gentle now, coaxing every last bit of pleasure from him until he’s a boneless heap in his chair.

He’s vaguely aware of the game still running on the screen in front of him, the car idling against the wall, the chat a blur of confusion and speculation. But all he can think about is the way you’re licking him clean, your tongue gentle and deliberate as you savor every lingering moment of his release. His breath comes in shallow gasps, the aftershocks of pleasure rippling through his body, leaving him utterly spent.

“Jesus,” he finally manages, his voice rough, barely more than a whisper. His fingers slip from your hair, trailing down to rest on your shoulder. “You … I don’t even know what to say.”

You look up at him from beneath the desk, your eyes sparkling with mischief and something darker, more intimate. “Say thank you,” you suggest, a teasing lilt in your voice as you place one final kiss on him before tucking him back into his jeans.

Max chuckles breathlessly, running a hand through his hair. “Thank you,” he echoes, but it’s more than just gratitude — it’s awe, admiration, an acknowledgment of just how thoroughly you’ve unraveled him.

“You’re welcome,” you purr, crawling out from under the desk with a grace that seems unfair, given what you’ve just done to him. As you straighten up, you brush a hand over your clothes, smoothing out any wrinkles as if you haven’t just reduced him to a quivering mess.

Max watches you, still dazed, as you take a seat on the edge of the desk, your fingers idly tracing the lines of the virtual steering wheel on the screen. “You should probably get back to your race,” you say casually, though the satisfied smirk on your lips tells him you know exactly what kind of chaos you’ve left in your wake.

“Race?” He blinks, trying to reconnect with reality. The reality where he’s supposed to be streaming, where thousands of people are watching, where he’s just crashed his car in the most embarrassing way possible. “Oh, fuck.”

You laugh softly, clearly enjoying his distress as he scrambles to put his headset back on. The game is still running, but the car is totaled, and his teammates are probably wondering why he’s been completely silent for the past few minutes.

Max clears his throat, trying to summon some semblance of professionalism as he un-mutes the mic. “Sorry, mates,” he says, his voice cracking slightly as he glances at the chat, which is now filled with endless variations of what happened? “Uh, Sassy … Sassy knocked something over. Had to deal with that.”

There’s a beat of silence on the other end, followed by the sound of someone barely holding back laughter. “Sassy, huh?” One of his teammates finally says, amusement clear in his voice. “Sure it wasn’t something else?”

“Yeah, mate, you sounded a bit — preoccupied,” another one chimes in, and Max can practically hear the grin in his voice.

Max shoots a glare in your direction, but you just smile sweetly, completely unrepentant. “Just a bit of a distraction,” he says, forcing a laugh that he hopes sounds natural. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

“Mmhmm,” his teammate replies, clearly unconvinced. “Well, whatever it was, you might want to keep it in check. You’re not exactly in winning form right now.”

Max groans internally, rubbing a hand over his face. “Yeah, yeah, I know. I’ll focus, promise.”

But as he puts his hands back on the wheel and tries to get back into the game, his thoughts are still swirling around what just happened, how thoroughly you’ve taken him apart and put him back together. He can feel the ghost of your touch on his skin, the way your lips felt against him, the sound of your voice whispering his name in that sinfully sweet tone.

You, however, seem entirely unbothered by the chaos you’ve caused. You hop off the desk and start to leave the room, but not before pausing in the doorway to shoot him a look over your shoulder.

“Oh, and Max?” You say, your voice just loud enough for the mic to catch it, ensuring that everyone in the stream hears. “Next time, don’t give our cat the credit for my handiwork.”

Max’s eyes widen in horror as the implications of what you’ve just said sink in, and the chat goes wild with speculation. He can’t believe you’ve just thrown that grenade and walked away, leaving him to deal with the fallout.

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath, his face burning as he hears the barely suppressed laughter of his teammates through the headset. He quickly fumbles to mute his mic again, before the noise from the chat can start bleeding through his headphones.

From the other side of the house, you can hear Max still muttering, cursing under his breath as he tries to explain away what just happened, though it’s clear from the chaos in the chat that he’s not fooling anyone. You’re pretty sure “Sassy” is going to become the new code word among his fans for a long, long time.

You can’t help but smile to yourself as you walk away, already planning the next time you’ll disrupt his perfectly controlled world with a bit of your own brand of chaos. Because you know Max — no matter how much he complains, he secretly loves every minute of it.

***

Max clicks out of the game, his heart still racing — not from the competition, but from the aftermath of your little stunt. His teammates had ribbed him mercilessly for the rest of the race, making it impossible to focus, and he’d finally had to give up entirely when it became clear he was more liability than asset.

But that’s fine, he thinks, as he heads to your shared bedroom. You’d wanted to play, and now it’s his turn.

He pushes open the door quietly, the soft sound of your breathing drawing him in. You’re sprawled out on the bed, lounging in a silk robe that clings to your curves in a way that leaves nothing to the imagination. One leg is draped lazily over the edge, your foot brushing against the floor, and your head is tilted back against the pillows, eyes half-closed in what looks like pure satisfaction.

Max pauses in the doorway, taking in the sight of you. The low light casts a warm glow over your skin, making the fabric of your robe shimmer as it catches the subtle movement of your body. You don’t see him at first, too caught up in your own thoughts, and he uses that moment to just watch you, to drink in every detail.

He’s still not entirely sure how he got so lucky, how he ended up with someone who could turn his world upside down with just a look, a touch, a whispered word. But he’s never been one to look a gift horse in the mouth. You’d taken control earlier, had driven him to the brink of insanity with your teasing, your lips, your tongue … but now, now it’s his turn.

“Enjoying yourself?” He asks, his voice low, almost a growl, as he steps into the room. You startle slightly, eyes snapping open, but then you relax, a slow, lazy smile spreading across your lips.

“Immensely,” you reply, stretching like a cat, your robe parting just enough to give him a tantalizing glimpse of what’s underneath. “Though I was wondering when you’d finish up in there. Took you long enough.”

Max’s eyes narrow, though there’s no real heat behind it. “You’re awfully confident for someone who just crashed me into a wall in front of thousands of people.”

You laugh softly, completely unrepentant, as you prop yourself up on one elbow. “You needed to be taken down a peg. I figured I was doing the world a favor.”

“Oh, is that right?” He crosses the room, his gaze dark and intent, and you shift slightly under the intensity of it, though you don’t look away. “Well, I think it’s only fair that I return the favor.”

He doesn’t give you time to respond before he reaches the walk-in closet, pulling open the door and flicking on the light. The space is meticulously organized — suits, Red Bull-branded shirts, shoes all lined up with military precision. But it’s the back corner that interests him tonight, the small, nondescript box that he keeps tucked away behind a row of neatly hung jackets.

He retrieves it with a sense of satisfaction, running his fingers over the smooth wood before he opens it. Inside, nestled in soft velvet, are the toys he’s collected over time. Some are simple, others more complex, but each one has a purpose, a particular use that he knows will drive you wild.

He hears you shift on the bed, a small rustle of fabric as you sit up a bit straighter, curiosity piqued. He doesn’t turn around just yet, letting the anticipation build as he selects a few choice items, things he knows you love, things he knows you can’t resist.

When he finally turns back to you, the box in hand, your eyes widen slightly, and you bite your lower lip — a telltale sign that your confident façade is starting to crack. Good.

“What are you planning to do with those?” You ask, though your voice wavers just enough to give away the thrill that’s running through you.

Max sets the box down on the bed beside you, his gaze never leaving your face as he leans in close, so close that you can feel the heat of his breath against your skin. “I’m going to make you beg,” he says simply, the words a promise, a challenge.

Your breath hitches, but you don’t back down, your eyes locked with his as you try to maintain some semblance of control. “You can try,” you whisper, though the defiance in your voice is already weakening.

He doesn’t respond with words — he doesn’t need to. Instead, he reaches for the silk tie at your waist, slowly, deliberately tugging it loose until the robe falls open, exposing the soft, bare skin beneath. You shiver as the cool air hits your body, but it’s nothing compared to the heat of his gaze, the way his eyes rake over you with an intensity that makes your heart skip a beat.

Max takes his time, tracing a finger down the line of your collarbone, over the curve of your breast, the flat plane of your stomach. You watch him, transfixed, your breathing growing shallow as his touch ignites a fire beneath your skin.

When he finally reaches for one of the toys — a sleek, slim vibrator that he knows you love — you feel a surge of anticipation, your body already responding to the thought of what’s to come.

He clicks it on, the low hum filling the room, and you can’t help the small gasp that escapes your lips as he trails it along the inside of your thigh, just teasing, just enough to make you squirm. “Max …” you breathe, your voice shaky, and he smiles, a slow, wicked smile that sends a thrill of both excitement and nervousness coursing through you.

“Relax,” he murmurs, his free hand coming up to cradle your jaw, his thumb brushing over your lips. “We’re just getting started.”

He doesn’t give you a chance to respond before he presses the vibrator against you, right where you’re most sensitive, the sudden burst of pleasure making you cry out, your hips bucking instinctively against the pressure. But Max holds you in place, his grip firm, his eyes never leaving your face as he watches your every reaction.

“Look at you,” he whispers, almost to himself, his voice filled with something akin to awe as he takes in the way your body responds to his touch, the way you can’t help but arch against him, your hands clutching at the sheets. “So beautiful …”

You can’t form a coherent response, your mind too clouded with pleasure, too focused on the way the vibrator is driving you closer and closer to the edge. But Max isn’t done with you — not even close.

He switches to a lower setting, drawing out the sensation, making you writhe beneath him as he pushes you to the brink but refuses to let you fall over it. “Max, please …” you whimper, your voice barely more than a breath, but he only chuckles, clearly enjoying the way you’re already coming undone beneath him.

“Not yet,” he says, his tone teasing, as he leans down to capture your lips in a kiss that’s as much about control as it is about passion. You can feel the smirk on his lips as he swallows your desperate moans, the vibrations from the toy matching the rhythm of his kiss, each one driving you closer to that sweet release.

But he doesn’t let you have it. Not yet.

He pulls back, the vibrator slipping away just as you’re about to tip over the edge, leaving you gasping, trembling with need. You make a small sound of protest, your body arching towards him, but he only smiles, a look of pure satisfaction on his face as he watches you struggle to catch your breath.

“You didn’t think it would be that easy, did you?” He asks, his voice low and husky as he reaches for something else from the box — a small, delicate clamp that he knows will drive you wild. He catches one of your nipples between his fingers, rolling it gently before attaching the clamp, the sharp sting of it sending a jolt of pleasure straight through you.

You cry out, your hands fisting in the sheets as the sensation takes over, and he doesn’t give you a moment to recover before he attaches the other one, his hands firm and steady even as you squirm beneath him.

“Max … Max, please …” you beg, the words spilling from your lips before you can stop them, but he only shakes his head, his eyes dark with lust as he takes in the sight of you — flushed, panting, utterly at his mercy.

“Not until you’re screaming for me,” he says, his voice a promise, a threat, as he turns the vibrator back on, this time at a higher setting, pressing it against you with enough force to make you see stars.

It’s too much, too intense, the pleasure building and building until you’re on the verge of breaking, but Max holds you there, right on the edge, refusing to let you fall until you’re practically sobbing with need.

“Please, Max, please …” you cry, your voice broken, desperate, and finally, finally, he relents, his hand moving faster, the vibrations intensifying until you’re shattering beneath him, your entire body convulsing with the force of your release.

You scream his name, the sound ripping from your throat as the pleasure crashes over you, wave after wave, until you’re left trembling, barely able to catch your breath. Max doesn’t let up, his hand steady, relentless, pushing you through one orgasm and into the next until you’re nothing but a quivering, incoherent mess beneath him.

When he finally pulls back, turning off the vibrator and removing the clamps with a gentleness that’s at odds with the intensity of what just happened, you’re too spent to even lift your head. Your body feels like it’s made of jelly, every nerve ending still humming with the aftershocks of pleasure. Max watches you for a moment, his eyes dark and unreadable, before he leans down to press a soft kiss to your forehead.

“You did so well,” he murmurs, his voice low and soothing, as if he’s trying to bring you back down from the high he just sent you to. His fingers brush a stray strand of hair away from your face, and you lean into the touch, your eyes fluttering closed as you try to steady your breathing.

You’re too tired to respond, too worn out to even think about moving, but Max doesn’t seem to mind. He moves off the bed, and you hear the soft rustle of fabric as he picks up the discarded toys, the quiet click as he puts them away in the box.

When he returns to your side, he’s holding a bottle of water, and he gently lifts your head, pressing the cool rim of the bottle to your lips. You take a sip, the water refreshing as it slides down your throat, and Max gives you a small smile, his thumb brushing over your cheek in a tender gesture.

“Feeling better?” He asks, his tone lighter now, teasing, as he sits down beside you on the bed. You nod, still too exhausted to speak, and he chuckles softly, clearly pleased with himself.

“You’re not going to try that again anytime soon, are you?” He raises an eyebrow as he leans back against the headboard, one arm draped casually over your shoulders. There’s no real edge to his words, no anger — just a quiet amusement, as if he’s already looking forward to the next time you challenge him.

You manage a weak smile, your head resting against his chest as you let out a soft, contented sigh. “I might,” you murmur, your voice still a little shaky, but there’s a hint of defiance in it, a spark that tells him you’re not completely defeated.

Max laughs at that, a deep, rich sound that vibrates through his chest and into your ear, and he presses a kiss to the top of your head, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your arm. “We’ll see about that,” he says, his voice warm and full of affection.

For a while, the two of you just sit there, wrapped in the comfortable silence that only comes after something so intimate, so intense. Max’s hand never stops moving, his touch soothing and grounding as he holds you close, and you can feel the steady beat of his heart beneath your cheek.

Finally, after what feels like hours but is probably only minutes, you let out a soft sigh, tilting your head up to look at him. “You’re too good to me,” you say, your voice barely more than a whisper, but the words are full of gratitude, of love.

Max’s gaze softens, and he leans down to press a lingering kiss to your lips, his thumb brushing over your cheek in a gentle caress. “I love you,” he says simply, and the words are so full of sincerity, of emotion, that they take your breath away.

You smile against his lips, your heart swelling with warmth as you snuggle closer, feeling safe, cherished, and utterly content. “I love you too,” you whisper back, and for a moment, the world outside fades away, leaving just the two of you in this perfect, blissful bubble.

Max holds you like that for a while longer, until your breathing evens out, and you start to drift off to sleep. He shifts slightly, pulling the covers up over you and tucking them in around your body with a tenderness that makes your heart ache.

Just as you’re about to fall asleep, you hear him murmur something, his voice low and full of affection. “Rest now,” he says, his fingers brushing over your hair in a soothing rhythm. “We’ve got all the time in the world.”

And with that, you finally allow yourself to relax completely, letting the warmth of his embrace and the soft, steady beat of his heart lull you into a deep, peaceful sleep.

[rafecameronssl4t]

the jarah pregnancy made me so happy, so i was thinking about thornton!reader finding out an unexpected pregnancy

Sweet Nineteen || Rafe Cameron x Thornton!reader

A/n: I was thinking the same thing 🤯

Warnings: vomiting, mention of drugs, r is pregnant at 19

Word count: 1,960

MASTERLIST (rafe x Thornton!reader au masterlist)

divider by @h-aewo

The bile rises, thick and sour, up your throat, and you throw off the sheets in a panic, bolting to the bathroom. You barely reach the toilet before you’re heaving, clutching the rim as the wave of nausea overwhelms you. It takes a moment before you feel Rafe’s presence at your side.

Gently, he gathers your hair, holding it in a makeshift ponytail as he kneels down beside you. His hand is warm and steady on your back, rubbing small, comforting circles. “Fuck,” you mutter in a weak voice, feeling the bile burn again as you throw up once more. Rafe doesn’t flinch, just keeps rubbing your back, his touch grounding you.

“You okay?” he asks softly as you finally catch your breath, reaching out to flush the toilet. He sounds genuinely concerned. “I thought you don’t get boat sickness.” “Yeah, I don’t,” you mumble, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand before reaching for your toothbrush.

The cool water on your teeth and gums is a relief, and you close your eyes briefly, trying to shake off the dizziness. “Probably something bad I ate yesterday,” you add, glancing up in the mirror to meet his gaze. He’s watching you, his brow furrowed as he nods slowly, a hint of worry still lingering in his expression.

~

“I can’t believe you’re gonna be nineteen in like…” Sarah pauses, glancing down as she counts on her fingers, her grin widening. “Ten hours,” she chuckles, nudging you playfully. You smile, popping a grape into your mouth. “I know, crazy, right?” you say, shaking your head. It feels surreal, like the year passed in a flash.

Before you can say anything else, you hear the sound of footsteps behind you. Turning, you spot Rafe and Topper strolling onto the sun deck, looking relaxed, almost too relaxed. But then the sharp scent of weed hits you, making you wrinkle your nose. You sit up from the sun bed, eyeing Topper with a grimace as you spot the joint hanging from his mouth.

“Are you smoking weed right now?” you ask, unable to hide the irritation in your voice. Topper raises an eyebrow, the joint dangling as he gives you a smirk. “Yeah?” he replies nonchalantly, taking a slow, lazy drag, as if daring you to say more. Rolling your eyes, you wave a hand in front of your face, trying to clear the air. “Well, go smoke it somewhere else,��� you mutter. “The smell’s making me sick.”

Topper holds your gaze, his expression shifting to mild confusion mixed with amusement. “What? Never bothered you before, sis,” he says, exhaling another plume of smoke, clearly finding this reaction from you entertaining. “Seriously, get the fuck out of here,” you groan, pressing the back of your hand against your mouth as a wave of nausea rolls over you. “I feel like I’m gonna vomit.”

Topper’s smirk falters as he studies you, genuinely taken aback by your reaction. He glances at Rafe, clearly puzzled, as if to confirm whether this is real or just a joke. Rafe watches you, his eyes narrowing slightly, before he turns to Topper. “Just listen to her,” Rafe mutters, giving Topper a nod of silent insistence. With a sigh, Topper raises his hands in surrender, then stubs out the joint against the railing.

“Fine, fine. You didn’t have to ruin the fun,” he says, tossing the remnants aside. With one last look—half-amused, half-apologetic—Topper ambles off, leaving you Rafe and Sarah in a moment of silence. You exhale slowly, the nausea finally beginning to subside as the smell dissipates, while Rafe lingers, his gaze still fixed on you, as if silently checking to make sure you’re alright.

Did you take any medicine?” Rafe’s voice breaks the comfortable silence between you and Sarah as he strolls over, his expression softened with concern. He sits down beside you on the sunbed, his hand instinctively reaching for your thigh, giving it a gentle, reassuring squeeze.“Yeah,” you reply, offering him a small smile. Sarah perks up at the exchange, her brows knitting together in curiosity.

“For what? Are you sick?” she asks, tilting her head with genuine worry. You shake your head, hoping to ease her concern. “I threw up this morning. I think I just ate something bad,” you explain, shrugging as if it’s no big deal. Sarah’s expression shifts to one of cautious relief as she slowly nods, her eyes lingering on you for a moment.

~

You glance at your watch: five minutes until midnight. The bathroom is quiet and dimly lit, but inside, your mind races as you stare down at the test, barely able to breathe. With trembling fingers, you turn it over, bracing yourself—and your heart stops. Two clear lines. Positive. Pregnant.

The air feels thick, each breath you take heavy with the weight of this sudden, life-changing truth. Pregnant at nineteen. You feel a tear slip down your cheek as the reality of it hits: the uncertainty, the responsibility, and the tiny spark of awe that stirs in your chest at the thought of the life growing within you. Who would’ve thought?

Just as you’re caught in the storm of emotions, you hear Rafe’s voice calling out to you from down the hall, his tone carefree and excited. “Babe, where are you?” Your heart skips, and with a surge of panic, you quickly hide the test in the drawer, wiping away the tears from your face. You glance in the mirror, dabbing beneath your eyes to make sure there’s no trace of the overwhelming emotion that just ran through you.

“Here!” you call out, doing your best to sound cheerful as you step out of the bathroom, forcing a smile onto your face. You walk toward Rafe, wrapping your arms around his neck as he gives you that familiar, comforting smile, his hands settling on your waist. “There you are,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. He glances down at his watch, his eyes lighting up with excitement.

“C’mon, three minutes until midnight,” he says, a spark in his voice as he takes your hand and starts leading you down the hallway. As he pulls you along toward the top deck, you can’t help but glance back at the bathroom door, where the test lies tucked away, as if leaving behind the secret that’s only just beginning to dawn on you.

The cool night air brushes over you as you step onto the deck, where Sarah and Topper are waiting, chatting and laughing under the glow of fairy lights strung around the railings. The ocean spreads out beneath you, dark and endless, stars reflecting off the gentle waves. You try to take it all in, hoping the beauty of the scene will settle the nerves still buzzing under your skin.

“What’s the time now—” you begin, but before you can finish, the sky bursts into a riot of color as the first firework explodes overhead. You gasp, your hand flying to your mouth in surprise as another spark ignites, followed by another, each one brighter than the last, painting the sky in shades of red, blue, and gold.

Your eyes widen as the fireworks continue to light up the night, each one booming and shimmering against the dark sky. The sight is breathtaking, yet you feel tears pricking your eyes again, overwhelmed by the moment, by the beauty of it all, and by the tiny life that only you know about.

“Happy birthday, baby,” Rafe whispers close to your ear, his arms slipping around you from behind as he rests his chin on your shoulder. His warmth seeps into you, grounding you as you lean back against him, watching the fireworks burst above you. You turn in his arms, unable to stop the tears that slip down your cheeks, your emotions too strong to hide. Rafe’s face softens, his thumb brushing against your cheek to catch a tear.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asks, his voice low and filled with concern as his hands gently cradle your face. You hold him close, gathering the courage to tell him what you’ve only just discovered. Voice barely above a whisper, you lean in close, “I’m pregnant.” The fireworks continue to crackle overhead, and your words are nearly lost in the noise. Rafe pulls back, searching your face with a confused look. “What?”

A nervous laugh escapes you, and this time, you say it louder, “I’m pregnant, Rafe!” His face shifts, eyes widening as the realisation dawns on him. “You’re pregnant?” he repeats, his voice filled with awe, and you nod, unable to hold back the smile spreading across your face. “Oh my god,” he breathes, his eyes lighting up with excitement as he pulls you into a deep, joyful kiss, his hands cradling your face like he’s afraid to let go.

When he pulls back, he’s grinning, looking at you as if he’s seeing you for the first time. “We’re going to have a baby,” he says softly, almost as if he’s speaking to himself, still in shock but brimming with happiness. “What’s going on?” Sarah’s voice cuts through, and you both turn to see her and Topper walking over, eyes filled with curiosity.

You beam at them, feeling a rush of excitement at sharing the news. “I’m pregnant!” you announce, your voice trembling with joy. Sarah’s jaw drops, her hand covering her mouth as she lets out a squeal of excitement, immediately pulling you into a tight hug. “Oh my god, y/n, are you serious?! This is amazing!” she cries, nearly bouncing with joy as she squeezes you.

Topper’s eyes go wide, his gaze shifting between you and Rafe with a grin spreading across his face. “Holy shit, dude! You’re gonna be a dad!” He claps Rafe on the back with enthusiasm, pulling him into a quick, celebratory hug as they both break into laughter. Rafe chuckles, patting Topper’s shoulder, a lightness in his expression that you rarely see.

“And you’re gonna be an uncle,” he replies, unable to hide the pride and excitement in his voice. Topper’s grin softens a little as he turns to you, arms wide open. “Congrats, sis,” he says warmly, pulling you into a tight hug. His embrace is solid and reassuring, swaying you back and forth as you both share a laugh. “Mom’s gonna be over the moon,” he says, chuckling as he releases you.

You smile, but there’s a flicker of hesitation in your eyes. “You really think so?” A part of you can’t help but worry about how your parents will react to the news, especially given that you’re only nineteen. Their expectations have always been high, and this wasn’t exactly in their plans for you.

“Oh, trust me, I know so.” Topper’s eyes twinkle with a mix of reassurance and amusement. “She might put on a big act and pretend to be shocked, but deep down, she’s been waiting for this. She’s dreamed of being a grandma for years.” He gives your arm a gentle squeeze, his playful grin easing your nerves a little.

As you pull away from Topper, Rafe’s arm wraps around your waist, drawing you close to his side. He looks down at you, his expression softening, and leans in to press a tender kiss to your forehead. “I can’t believe we’re going to be parents,” he murmurs, his voice low and full of wonder, as if he’s still trying to wrap his mind around it.

You smile, feeling a warmth spread through you as you snuggle into him, resting your head against his chest. “Me neither,” you reply softly, your voice filled with quiet happiness. “But I’m glad it’s with you.” Rafe’s arm tightens around you, his fingers tracing gentle circles on your back as the reality of it all settles between you.

[mondaymelon]

₊⊹ … ALMIGHTY DRAGONLORD K'UHUL AJAW AND TWO CLUELESS MORONS | kinich x gn!reader

— in which ajaw tends to interrupt kisses. and ruin moments.

— this took way too long to get out, winner of this poll w 458 votes .. includes pre + post getting together, kinich does bite , i love ajaw

recently, the little pixelated... thing that called itself "almighty dragonlord k'uhul ajaw" had proved to be quite troublesome.

and it wasn't just in your love affairs with malipo kinich; ajaw took it upon himself to make not a single second of your day silent.

"i'm nOT forigiving you for this you... you... you- aGH, NEVERMIND! you're literally HOGGING kinich's attention so like.. screw off already!!"

needless to say, it seemed that ajaw was a jealous individual. you'd heard a thing or two about him from kinich, though rather.. unsavory things: irrelevant tidbits, a nonchalant little comment of "i forgot to mention, he'll take over my body when i die, so he constantly wishes for my misfortune."

oh yeah, like that was totally normal.

then, perhaps ajaw's jealousy wasn't unfounded — you "owned" kinich more than he ever would, lol. funnily enough, the way the two of you had met was purely due to ajaw, so if anything, he didn't have the right to complain.

from what kinich told you later on, he had been on some bounty mission for a troupe of ragtag saurian poachers, and had swung by to check grappling indents on the cliffside when ajaw spotted an adventurer scaling the rock. doing what he does best — causing a celestial fuck of a racket — he hovered over, preaching about how "real adventurers don't use equipment" and to "drop everything to show your bravery" ... after a proper talking to, kinich met with you to convey a formal apology.

at the time, you didn't know such a professional relationship would develop into something more.

"he's bothering you again? i'll scold him..."

kinich's voice was quiet, his head settled in your lap, one hand gently circling your wrist. you slowly ran a hand through his hair, released from its typical headband-style. soft, it was fluffy to the touch, and you heard kinich hum in content, bringing his hands up to caress your face — a silent request for a kiss.

and how could you resist? there was something in that gaze that seemed so pleading, so intimate-

"you ICKY ICKY LovEBIRDS !! FOR THE LOVE OF- GET A ROOM!!"

kinich withdrew his hands with a scowl, lips pressing into a thin line. "... read the room, ajaw."

"this almighty dragonlord is not going to witness a k-kis- grOSS, i can't even SAY it...!!"

"..."

kinich seemed to consider something, very briefly.

then, he grabbed the sputtering pixel-dragon forcefully, smothering ajaw's face with a gloved hand. watching in awe and feeling thoroughly entertained, you heard indignant shouts grow muffled.. and just like that, ajaw shut up for the first time in over a decade. historical.

your lover leaned forward, angling his head to the side to press a chaste little kiss into your neck. like he had flipped a switch, he grazed his teeth lightly against your skin, nipping at it first, though not hard enough to draw blood, then biting at it.

"ouch, are you trying to leave a mark? what's with you?"

"shush." he spoke with his face flush to your neck, kissing a small trail up your neck and onto your jaw as if in apology. "i'm merely claiming what's mine."

and there ajaw floated, suffocated and forgotten. "..hell, are those two SERIOUSLY making out ?? when im literally rIGHT HERE!?"

(a/n) ajaw is so detestable i love him if possible i think id want to pinch his pixel cheeks. anyway "so call me maybe" is up next w "so cradle these wings" after, they were supposed to be sorta related but i don't the release order matters so :p

[ tags: ] @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu-archive, @falors, @swivy123, @scara-is-my-wife, @lupicalbestwolf, @justyoureader,@fiannee, @aether-darling, @aioniela, @avensuersa, @dainsleif-when-playable, @intpessimistic

( dm or comment to be added ! i might miss ur comment so just to be sure, leave a comment on the actual masterlists page on my pinned ^ ^ )

[solbaby7]

En Cognito

pairing: azriel x reader

warnings: swearing, misogyny, best friends that wanna fuck, sexual tension, possible violence, jealous!az, slowly shifting into slight darker content 👀 hope no one notices

summary: Going undercover alters your appearance more than your friends ever anticipated—now Azriel can’t tear his eyes away.

—

“Stop touching and just relax.”

“I can’t,” You squirm under Mor’s touch. Two hours spent around the city spending obscene amounts of money on a dress and heels that you were only going to wear once. Nimble fingers part through your hair, undoing paper curls and oiled fingers run through the ends of silky strands. Everything is too tight—too exposed. “I am deeply uncomfortable.” Your arms cross behind your back, fingers awkwardly intertwining to create some sort of barrier between your ass and the possibility of peering eyes.

The High Lords cousin doesn’t take it personally, quickly finishing final touches on your makeup and the person you see in the mirror is so far off from what you were used to that it makes your breath catch. “It’s perfect. You’re going to be perfect—they won’t be able to keep their eyes off of you.”

Your hand shakes at the thought, painted fingers curling around the glass of champagne and knocking the whole thing back in one go.

“You’re going to ruin your lipstick.”

“If I don’t have at least two more of those, I’m going to ruin this whole night.” It felt weird having your hair down like this and your fingers twitch to tuck it back into your usual bun but Mor keeps throwing looks over her shoulder while she refills both glasses. Just daring you to fuck up her work.

After the second glass your brain finally stops hyper-fixating on the fact that you can actually feel the bare skin of your thighs touching with each step, an annoying change from the leathers that usually prevented things like this. “It’s just a few dances. Bat your lashes and smile pretty and the intel will come to you, I’m sure of it.”

“I don’t think one dress will get me all of that.”

“It’s not about the dress.” She’s rubbing oil into your skin that makes it shine when the light touches, the sweet smell lingering long after you’ve left the room and the whole walk downstairs is filled with gentle reminders on everything she’d been teaching you all week. “It’s you in it. Seriously, where have you been hiding all of this ass?” You swat her hands away, grateful that the others had left far earlier. You could just hear Az and Cass now, eyes rolling at the very thought of their relentless teasing—this would be the topic of many jokes for weeks to come.

Slight sway of your hips, soften the length of your spine, shoulders back and head high. Confident steps even though the heels were fucking killer; five inches of added height and you’d still feel small in a room crawling with fully grown men. The champagne glass is finished and refilled once more before you’re tugged away to the balcony and past the wards.

Usually, winnowing was calming but for some reason, this time it had the hairs on the back of your neck prickling at attention from all the eyes that slid in your direction. “That was subtle.”

“We’re late,” Mor mutters through her teeth, flashing a less than sweet smile to the males undressing her with their eyes. Typical for Hewn City but still fucking disgusting. “I figured a flashy entrance would distract from that. Now, be nice.”

Easier said than done with anxiety beginning to ebb forth, fingers flexing and nails running over the details of your dress. The words from earlier repeat in your mind and instantly your spine straightens, chin raising and the added swish to your hips is enough to attract the attention of any male within a five mile radius.

It’s customary to greet the High Lord and Lady, your heels clicking and face aloof when swiftly curtsying into a respectful bow. “Rise,” Feyre commands, voice strong and filled with unquestionable power but you could see that look in her eye—familial fondness creeping at the edges of blue irises and you’re quick to appear anxious. Less comfortable when surrounded by people you’d known longer than you could put into words. “Join the others, there’s plenty of food and drink for everyone.”

Better judgement screams in your mind not to look just a little to the right; your peripheral catching onto the faint glow of cobalt blue but your eyes slide over without permission.

Azriel looks godly standing guard near his High Lord and Lady. He’s handsomely dressed in one of his fancier pairs of fighting leathers, lethally strapped to the nines with daggers at his thighs, switchblades tucked in pockets or strapped to his ankles and swords that cross at his back, right between his wings.

Like an angel of death; just as tempting as he was deadly.

You look away before he can catch you admiring the tailored cut of sturdy, dark tactical gear stretching across his muscles. Too quickly for you to notice the way he double takes, eyes widening a fraction and stance stiffening ever so slightly when he recognizes the slope of your nose and shape of your mouth glistening in gloss. He nearly chokes on his breath at the accentuation of your figure, curves on full display in a complete juxtaposition to your usual attire and his stare follows as you disappear into the crowd of bodies.

He can’t leave his spot but it doesn’t stop him from sending out his own personal surveillance to keep tabs on the way you shift about the room.

Everywhere you move, eyes follow.

Males halt their conversation, sipping on whiskey so expensive that it probably equates to a months worth of rent but judging by their tailored suits and gold cuff-links—money was the least of their problems.

“A drink, miss?”

Relief works its way into your form when you accept, thanking the waitstaff politely while acting your ass off with the fluttery lashes and doe eyes. It paints a perfect little picture—entrapping susceptible males with overly inflated egos and misogynistic thought processes. You’re almost a little too deep in the facade, aimlessly wandering through the sea of bodies with ears specially attuned to every conversation; sifting through the meaninglessness in order to catch little pieces of a bigger picture that had yet to be deciphered.

“And who might you be?”

“Nobody.” The response is instinctive, a second nature that’s easily smoothed over with a demure smile.

Even you could admit the male was handsome, all solid muscle and alluringly ragged edges. His suit is immaculate, fitting the strong line of his shoulders to perfection as the halfway unbuttoned tunic beneath broadcasts the tawny tones of his chest loitered with inky tattoos. Dark hair frames his face, a silver scar cutting through the thick of one brow and yet its completely overshadowed when in the midst of such beauty. “You certainly don’t look like ‘nobody’ to me.”

Warmth spreads at the nape of your neck, your body affected by the soulful bass of his voice and for a fleeting moment you have to remind yourself of the task at hand.

The male doesn’t give time for you to come up with another one of your carefully curated lies. A hand is extended your way, the faelight above catching on the masculine rings adorning his pinky and pointer fingers when your hand is taken in his own.

It’s almost embarrassing—the spectacle he makes in spinning you slow, taking in every detail with his bottom lip tucked between his teeth.

Thank the Mother for Mor and her attention to detail, picking out the perfect dress and glimmering diamonds that distracted from the true soldier that burned in your soul, a characteristic that had been exercised for decades enduring Cassian and Azriel’s relentless training regiment.

“Whoever you’ve come with will never recover from the loss he’s about to take,” The males eyes are ravenous, that previously bored darkness finally flickering with life beneath the surface.

The surprised laugh you let out is genuine, a shocked bark of a thing that’s anything but ladylike but he doesn’t seem to mind. “You have a very high sense of self in assuming I’d go anywhere with you considering I don’t have the slightest clue on who you are.”

Another lie added to the steadily growing web. You’d been briefed on every single person in this room, memorized their faces and obsessively studying their lives and known connections until the only thing left was to figure out who possessed the most valuable information. “Who better to trust than Stewards right hand?” Feminine wonder masks the satisfaction of such an easily attained lead and suspicion begins to grow in your gut. Maybe it’s not as well concealed as you’d assumed because the cockiness is dialed down multiple levels and the smile he wears is far more flattering than that entitled smirk. “Call me Atlas.”

Music filters throughout the space and steadily the sea of bodies becomes more uniform, paired up couples shifting about the room with a hardened grace that allowed their movements to appear elegant, even if their faces were stripped of any semblance of emotion. “Atlas,” The name is foreign on your tongue but not entirely unpleasant. “Have any clue where they keep their stash?”

A cheshire grin accompanies the muscular bicep he holds out in offering. “Allow me to lead the way.”

Everything goes as planned, a knowing nod to Mor, a giddy smile when the Stewards second hand tugs you down a hallway, bypassing stationed guards and passing over a small pouch of silver coins to the scrawny soldier standing in front of a thick set of double doors. “Where are we going?”

“You wanted the good stuff. Kier keeps them in his office.” High heels click against the polished floors, taking in the layered colors of obsidian, onyx and oblivion. It’s typical for a male, simple, with just enough overindulgence to make your eyes roll.

“Are we supposed to be in here?”

Atlas moves across the space with ease, unlatching the lock on the liquor cabinet and collecting two glasses and a thick crystal decanter filled halfway with a deep amber liquid. “Are you going to tell on me?”

Every movement you make hold more grace than you’ve mustered up in a century. Femininity oozes from every pore and it’s intoxicating—this males reaction to the slightest graze of your nails against his fingers. It plants a terrifying seed, one eager to learn exactly how far you could take it. How many other people would react the same way?

Your mind takes a turn, sliding a key into a door you’d long since boarded up.

And you can’t help but wonder if the simple seduction would work on Azriel too.

“I can be convinced to keep a secret,” Magic must be used to keep the liquor chilled because the crystal is cold to the touch. “If you show me the balcony too.”

Atlas nods slowly, taking your words entirely different than intended but you don’t bother correcting it. Not when he strides over to the doors with such ease, pulling out a personal set of keys and unlocking them as if he’d done so a million times before.

You supposed Hewn was a sight to behold from this angle, high heels click against the concrete, bracelets clinging against the iron railings as you peer over. In its own, hauntingly beautiful way; a darker part of you could find the appeal if you overlooked the horrors that took place there.

“Now, I’ve snuck you out here, breaking all kinds of rules and jeopardizing my job for you.” If it’s the truth, Atlas has a hell of a way of making it seem nonchalant—every word laced in an amusement you can’t quite place but it’d be lying to say you didn’t find it slightly charming. “Will you finally tell me your name?”

There’s a mischievous sparkle in your eye, a taunting elongation of one leg, the shiny curve of your high heel dragging gently against his ankle. You almost answer when your eyes catch on the shadows in the corner, their color just a little too dark, their ebb just a little too sentient. Of course, Azriel would follow you out there when he believed you were taking too long, playing the perfect position of Night Court security when urging guests away from restricted areas but jealously slips its way into his tone when he finds you and Atlas on the balcony standing a little too close to be considered friendly. “You aren’t supposed to be out here.”

The male with you doesn’t seem the slightest bit deterred, cockily tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear while the other hand fishes out a small pouch full of gold coins from his suit pocket and rudely stuffs it into Azriel’s chest without even looking. “How about you go back inside and give us a few uninterrupted moments to get to know each other?”

Azriel’s brow raises, wings bristling when tracking the two fingers Atlas has grazing down your cheekbone and his tone is eerily even when responding. “Did you come alone tonight?”

“Yes,” Atlas retorts none the wiser, a smirk curving at the corners of his mouth. “Though, I have no intentions on leaving how I came.”

“Is that so?” It happens so quickly. Azriel snatching the male away from you, his fist darting out and connecting with Atlas’ jaw with such precision that the impact sends the Steward’s second in command unconscious on the cobblestone. “Mission’s over,” Azriel all but growls, his grip possessive when pulling you in. “We’re leaving.”

“Azriel,” Your eyes widen, glass slipping from your grasp as your brain moves like molasses when trying to comprehend what you’d witnessed. It doesn't bother Az though, his hand a firm weight at the dip of your back, pinky finger just grazing the curve of your ass with every step. “I wasn’t even close to being finished—he was about to give me everything.”

“Oh, I’m more than aware of what he was about to give you.”

He looks like he’s readying himself to winnow the two of you out of there, thick clouds of shadows materializing around his threatening frame but something forces him to decide against it. His jaw clenches, stance rigid and voice clipped when telling you to 'come this way', taking a sharp left turn before shoving your body inside. “Azriel, what the hell?”

“Funny, I was about to ask you the same thing.” The door slams behind him, lock twisting with a resounding click but none of that distracts from the downright murder-strut Azriel adopts when stalking towards you. Your heart hammers against your chest, heels scraping against the polished floors in your attempts to create space but the male before you eats it all up. “Do you have any idea what you’ve been doing to me?”

The laugh that pushes free is breathless; taken aback. “What?"

A war wages in Azriel's mind as he strains to contain the small semblance of control he's ever been able to gather in your presence. You make him crazy; shove him out of his comfort zone and force him to take risks that his skillful training strictly rejects. You're an enigma, a flame that burns but also provides warmth to those who handle you with care. “I thought you in your leathers was sin.”

You swallow thickly as your body responds to the drop in his voice; the gravel that positively rattles his tone and morphs that strong soldier boy into a predator of a man with ravenous wants and needs. Rapturous desires that plagues his thoughts, tainting his actions and lingering in the void of his shadows with intent to kill.

Shock blends into need as Azriel backs you against the desk, the rigid line of his cock straining against the stitching of his leathers. It digs against your belly; teasing, taunting you with the possibilities. “But then you come waltzing in wearing this dress—cauldron boil me—are you even wearing any underwear?”

"I couldn't," A blush burns at your cheeks, every inch of you sparking to life under his stare. "Mor said panty lines are tacky."

"Then it'd be best you refrain from telling her what happens in here because I'm about to make you sound fucking garish." Hips buck involuntarily, a helpless rut whittling away at whatever self-control Azriel has left. It’s clearly not much because soon his lips are too preoccupied with learning yours and strong hands are busy familiarizing themselves with the curves you usually kept so carefully concealed. Eager fingers run over the tight fabric around your waist, gliding over the length of your stomach and cupping the weight of your breasts, thumbs grazing over peaked nipples. Mapping the canvas of your body like a man starved.

Denying his touch is out of the question; at least that’s what your body decides as it leans into the heavy drag of his weight. For once, you lean into the girlish nature of allowing the male to lead—to comply as Azriel guides your face to his own. Indulging in feverish kisses because he started it and it was only fair for you to finish it.

The lines of friendship blur with his tongue in your mouth and you’re too drunk on the scent of his cologne to question what any of this could mean afterwards. What chaos could ensue from helping him hike the hem of your dress up, up, up with a needy groan. “Can’t believe you hid all of this from me,” Azriel all but whines, golden irises gobbling up the fullness of your thighs. Pupils dilate at your lack of undergarments; the thin leather thigh holsters strapped tight against the muscle of your legs and inky shadows swipe at the weapon secured there—stealing it as a prize.

“Can you blame me?” The words come out breathy, palms dragging along rigid muscle hidden beneath his clothes, nails seconds away from slicing through the offending fabric for more of his warmth, for more of him in general because this male was a thing of dreams. Of carefully curated fantasies that females with far more time on their hands wrote about in their journals. “How would I get any work done with everyone staring at my ass?”

His touch is bold, two fingers sliding between your thighs to slide along the slick that collects between lower lips. "That won't be an issue for you anymore." A gasp forces your lips to part when he circles around your clit, feeling the area around it without actually giving what you want. Azriel likes it more that way; enjoys the ways your legs tremble and chest heaves. "You'll find that people don't stare much at the things that belong to me."

"I'm not yours," You struggle to verbalize the thought fully when he finally applies the right amount of pressure to your neglected bundle of nerves. Quick little circles under the calloused drag of two fingers works a strangled moan free. "I don't belong to anyone," You try to speak it aloud so the point comes across but all that's leaving your lips is pathetic pants of yesyesyes and pretty pleas for moremoremore.

He’s cruel in his torture, pulling his hands away seconds before release can wash over you and a cocky smirk etches in the corner of his mouth. It’s knowing; cognizant of the fact that your orgasm lies in the palm of his hands, rests under the willful press of his fingertips.

“Please?” You whisper, voice cracked; broken, ruined from nothing but his hands alone and you still hadn’t cum yet. Every nerve burns, toes curling, stomach clenching and pussy pulsing around nothing as your hips careen forward—searching for the sweet friction that Azriel just knows how to provide.

You thank the Mother for his lack of revolve, for it had to be her mercy that allows his stubborn defenses to crumble so quickly. To give in and offer everything you’d been begging for . He’s not kind about it; doesn’t coax the orgasm forward but yanks at it like a dog on a leash. It’s claiming the way he watches you through your high, drinking up your sounds and committing the slick sight of you to memory.

He doesn’t even give you enough time to catch your breath before he’s tugging his leathers down his hips, thick fabric bunching at his thighs. “Save your pretty pleas for soft pricks like Aaron.”

“Atlas.”

Azriel’s brow raises, a subtle twitch of muscle that shouldn’t be as threatening as it is. Or at least it wouldn’t be if it wasn’t followed by the ominous drag of his cock through your folds, the heavy weight of him coating itself in your slick.

You know he wants to say something. It’s hanging off the tip of his tongue; some venomous comment fueled by raw, unbridled jealousy. Some sick part of you wants him to say it—maybe then he’ll admit to his feelings; confessing to the tension that permeates when the two of you enter a room or share a joke or brush arms or get a little too heated during training.

“I believe your role tonight is soft and demure,” His voice is deceptively even considering the rough jolt of his hips that bullies the blunt head of his cock deep inside of you. “So don’t use that mouth of yours unless it’s to tell me how good I fucking feel.”

Az holds true to his word because every time your lips part to make some stupid comment for him to slow down or loosen his grip on your hips because you’re sure bruises are forming—Azriel just fucks you harder. Presses the palm of his hand against your mouth to muffle the moans, to seize the symphony of sighs that gasp free when he treats sensitive spots with such aggression.

He can feel your legs shaking, tuts his tongue in hushed amusement when he catches you trying to inch away; searching for a spare second to catch your breath. “Where d’you think you’re going?”

No mercy is shown for your choked breaths when Azriel’s focused on the ripple of your ass with each thrust. “It’s so fucking deep,” The words come out garbled against his palm and it’s only then that he pulls it away, fingers ghosting over the swollen plush of your lips in silent appreciation.

“Filthy pussy’s just sucking me right in,” Your cheeks burn, lids fluttering closed as you try not to acknowledge the fact that his voice and those syllables strung together is just enough to have you clenching around him; slick gushing down the length of him and dripping from the heavy weight of his balls.

A sharp smack of his hand against the fat of your ass; the perfect pinch of pain to accompany the mind-numbing pleasure that wracks through every nerve. “Azriel!”

“Now you remember my name?” His tone is pure venom, every rational part of his brain clouded with envy, leaking with a bitterness that scrunches up the perfect lines of his face. “Can’t believe you were about to give this up to that fucking ingrate.” Cool air breezes against your sex as your ass is lewdly pried open enough for Azriel to stare at the sopping wet mess you make. “Not after I’ve been waiting so godsdammed long for this—for you.” A creamy ring of your cum catches at the base of his cock; cunt clenching over and over and over as he works you through orgasm after orgasm.

Mumbled praises and keening moans are your only reply, knees bending for better leverage as you lean back into the pace he sets. Screw the mission—fuck the objective. Damn anything that wasn’t Azriel and his cock and those perfect hands that claims sweat-slicked skin. You don’t even fight it, succumbing to the pleasure and the male administering it. “Right there!” You barely recognize the sound of your own voice, ears focused on Azriel’s grunts and whispered praises. “So good. So good—fuck!”

“This is mine?” It’s not really a question. That much you know when you feel the pressure of his thumb rubbing circles along your clit. “Say it so I can hear you.”

“Yes!” Eyes roll. Words slur. Fists clutch at polished wood; manicured nails leaving indents in mahogany. “Belongs to you.”

Azriel’s too good—too precise; too determined. Forces him to rut deep and carve out a place inside of you with his name branded on it. Thick ropes of his seed paints quivering walls; claiming with a kind of possessiveness that has your toes permanently curled in your heels.

There’s barely enough time to catch a proper breath or situate your dress when thick wad of papers are smacked before you like a godsdammed gift, all neatly stacked and basically tied with a fucking shadowy bow. All the intel you’d bitched at Az for compromising—written right there in plain sight. “Those are the—you…thank you.”

“Don’t get all sweet for me now,” Azriel muses darkly, affectionately patting at your cheek as if you were some drowsy pup, his head nodding in gesture to the neat stack of stolen papers on the table while swiftly tucking himself away and redoing the ties on his breeches. “I’m only covering for your pretty ass so I can ruin it later.”

[hyabbstay]

just a little bit - c.s.b. & c.y.j.

yeonjun x afab!reader x soobin

genre: smut (minors DO NOT INTERACT!)

content warning: porn without plot, threesome, afab!reader, jun and soob take turns, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (WRAP it before u tap it pLS) oral sex (m & f receiving), masturbation (m), voyeurism, lots of bodily fluids, sloppy seconds, pussy slapping, recording, choi soobin has a big dick, slight objectification, soobin calls reader a slut while yeonjun calls reader sweetheart LOL, lmao yeonjun is more romantic than soob here he might be a little in love, pussydrunk!soob, yeonbin bickering, sexual tension if you squint, probably forgot some just let me know, NOT PROOFREAD it's like 5am here and im tired

wc: 3.1k

song rec: just a little bit by kids of 88 (hello teen wolf fans!)

･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.

"That's it, take Yeonjun's cock like a good slut."

"F-fuck," the older man threw his head back at the way you clenched around his girthy cock, hot, slick, and greedy. He rolled his hips into yours, making you cry out through your panties stuffed in your mouth to muffle your moans. "Seriously, we can't just be friends anymore after this - ah - I'll lose my shit thinking about your pussy all day."

From his seat by the dresser, Soobin tightened his grip on his stiff cock, already leaking precum. He watched Yeonjun's cock slam in and out of your pussy. The older man liked to pull out completely, drag his length along your clit until you whined helplessly, then ram it back in, punching a cry out of you. Soobin licked his lips and listened to the symphony of his best friends' sweat slicked skin smacking against each other, the squelches each time Yeonjun's cock pummeled your wet hole, your muffled whining, and Yeonjun's pornographic moans.

Soobin found it delicious to watch, but he couldn't deny he wanted to ruin you just as badly as Yeonjun did, too. Raw you like an animal in heat, abuse your wet pussy and fill it deep, dripping with a mix of his and Yeonjun's hot semen.

You ripped the panties from your mouth and began gasping loudly. Yeonjun could feel your hot cavern pulsate around his length, locking him in a vice-like grip. His hips began to stutter, erratic in his movement. Soobin leaned forward just slightly. He knew what was coming and decided to edge himself a little bit, letting go of his dripping cock. As he slowly licked the slick off of his palm, Soobin suppressed his eyes from rolling back, watching the scandalous scene unfold in front of him.

Yeonjun’s mouth hung open in ecstasy, eyes shut tight, reveling in the sensation of your pussy clenching around him.

“So,” pant, “fucking,” pant, “good.” Your best friend punctuated each word with a powerful thrust, allowing streak after thick streak of cum to coat your walls. You could’ve sworn the intensity of your orgasm drove you insane. Warm and sticky fluid flooded your hole, covering his cock and meeting his release. Your legs and thighs buzzed with pleasure, and your hole felt so raw. The sensation in your womb was both sensual and dirty. So filthy.

“What a filthy slut,” Soobin groaned, sucking in air through clenched teeth. “You like being pounded by your best friend’s cock?”

Lost in pleasure while Yeonjun fucks the remainder of his semen into you, you manage to let out a weak “Yeah.”

The man behind you slows his thrusts and eventually slips out of you. Soobin looks up at him, and they exchange sly looks. Soobin stands up, shucking off the rest of his clothes, leaving his cock proudly on display. You were in huge trouble.

“Wanna make it two of your best friends’ cocks? Gonna let me fill you up with my cum, too?” Soobin leaned in close, eyes dark, and spanked your ass. You screamed in surprise, feeling Yeonjun’s cum drip out of you and onto the sheets.

“Answer me, slut.”

“Y-yes,” you groaned, glassy eyes begging him to cream inside you, “I w-want all your cum in m-my pussy, Bin-ah.”

Yeonjun was spent. He moved to the chair and reached for his phone. You had an inkling of what was going to happen next.

“Jun-ah,” Soobin called while manhandling you onto your back, not caring about the cum that poured out of your hole, “get back here and take a video of your mess first.”

Yeonjun hummed and sauntered over, phone in hand with the flash on. Both men pushed your thighs apart, leaving your dripping snatch exposed. “So wet and full of my cum,” the older man watched the screen closely as three of Soobin’s fingers invaded your hole, fucking the slick back inside. He slapped your pussy, earning a moan from you. Smrking, he did it again, watching the strings of your arousal stretch out as he pulled his hand away. You whined out his name, embarrassed by the wet sounds coming from your folds.

“Bin, I ate her out earlier before you walked in,” Yeonjun smirked. “She’s so fucking tasty, exactly like we imagined.”

Shit, how long have these two been planning to get in your pants? Since you started coming over to their apartment? Since you accidentally flashed them at the pool? That one spin the bottle game where you had to make out with Yeonjun?

Or that incident at the movie theater where you caught Soobin touching himself through his pants during a sex scene? You moaned, remembering that smirk he gave you back then and the way he continued palming his cock.

If you’d gotten the hint back then, you could’ve been cumming on their cocks much sooner.

“‘M gonna eat this pussy out first, dyin’ to taste you.” Soobin hasn’t gotten started yet, but his words slightly slurred together, as if he was already pussydrunk by the thought of drowning in your arousal. He flattened his tongue and licked a fat stripe from your hole to your clit. He hummed as he savored your slick fluids coating his tongue, while you cried out like a bitch in heat. Fuck their neighbors; you were getting the best head of your life tonight.

“Still dripping so much after being used as Junnie’s cumdump?” Soobin tutted, “You’re insatiable.”

His head disappeared between your legs as he began sucking on your hole, as if trying to drink up the filthy mixture of yours and Yeonjun’s cum. You screamed when he stuck his tongue inside and forced the wet muscle to explore your pussy. Yeonjun had to switch hands to hold the camera steady and place the other hand on your abdomen to keep you from thrashing around in pleasure. His best friend was too pussy-drunk to mind you pulling his hair, thirsty for more of his tongue action.

“Y/N’s so greedy,” Yeonjun remarked. “Soobin, wanna teach her a lesson?”

The younger man only responded by withdrawing his tongue and laving it over your clit before sucking wetly.

He scooped up the dripping mix of arousal from your hole and pulled out his soaked digits to hold them up for his friend, all the while keeping his hot tongue on you. Yeonjun hungrily wrapped his plump lips around Soobin’s fingers, suckling on them lightly to get a taste of yours and his own cum. Admittedly, you would’ve enjoyed the erotic scene of the two men if it weren't for Soobin’s relentless attack on your folds. Each stripe that he pressed onto your sensitive snatch brought you closer to the edge. 

Yeonjun let go of the other’s fingers with a lewd pop and resumed filming the same fingers plunging inside you again.

The older man watched in amusement, eyes drifting to see your fucked out expression, body covered in sweat from fucking him earlier. You met his piercing gaze. He slowly moved the phone towards you, recording your sorry state for them to beat their cocks to later. Much to your surprise, he delicately brushed a strand of hair away from your sweaty forehead. The loving gesture reminded you for a split second that you were close friends.

Close friends that somehow ended up this way.

The sweet gesture was quickly swept away by the sight of Yeonjun licking his lips. He watched you with blown pupils and spoke.

“Who’s making you feel this good, baby? Hm?” He asked in a low voice, tongue grazing the shell of your ear.

“Y-you!" you moaned, hips grinding into Soobin’s face. His moan sent vibrations through your pussy. “You and S-Soobin-ah! So good I’m gonna cum!”

“Then cum.” 

At that, Soobin, who had been carefully tracing little circles on your bundle of nerves, latched his lips onto your clit and resumed his frenzied sucking while pounding his fingers into your slick. He shook his head from side to side, the movement intensifying the rough drag of his tongue on you. The salacious squelching, lewd moans, and smell of sex permeated the air again. You screamed brokenly while creaming all over his mouth. Yeonjun held the camera right above the both of you, capturing the sexual act in all its glory.

You tried to make eye contact with the camera, but Soobin’s persistent licking at your spent folds kept your eyes rolling back so much you thought they would get stuck that way.

You came down from your high, and Soobin polished off his meal, greedily sucking every last drop from your hole and his own fingers. Fuck, your best friends could keep your legs twitching for days on end. You wouldn’t mind that one bit.

Damn, you need both of them in you.

Soobin was a mess. His bangs stuck to his forehead from the sweat and juices on his face, but his gaze was eager, showing no signs of fatigue from your earlier activities.

“Time for my cock, babe. Take it like the slut you are, alright? I’ll make it fit.” He gripped his length and pumped it, lining it up with your hole before entering you.

The stretch was incredible. Without a doubt, he was thicker than Yeonjun. It was as if you felt every ridge, every vein that bulged from his dick as he sank further and further into you. When he bottomed out, Soobin could hardly hold himself back from pulling back and slamming in.

Embarrassingly, you heard the squelch of your juices as Soobin adjusted his position while you got accustomed to the size of his cock.

“Fuck,” he groaned “Gonna fuck you stupid on my cock, slut.”

And he began pummeling into you a lot more forcefully than Yeonjun did. His technique was desperate, messy, and a little insane. You had half a mind to be a little scared that he might break you.

“Fuck! S’big and so good, Soobin!”

Still sensitive, you moaned out his name. He satisfied his oral fixation by sealing his lips over your tit, moaning into your burning flesh. His thrusts were fast and harsh, barely giving you time to breathe, so you had no choice but to bask in the sensation of Soobin’s dick abusing your pussy.

The wet sounds of your skin meeting were also affecting Yeonjun, who began groaning like a pornstar again. His other hand traveled to his now fully hard cock and began stroking again, his eyes flickering between the scene recorded on the screen and reality. The older man fixed his gaze on the sight of you and Soobin’s hips meeting. He watched it all—the way his cock disappeared into your cunt, the wetness that accumulated around his friends’ lower halves as you both kept meeting each other's thrusts.

The way Soobin speared you on his cock like a toy, he treated you like his personal cumdump. He released your tits from his mouth and joined Yeonjun in watching his dick plunging into your heat, each time emerging a lot wetter than the last.

In between pants, Soobin said something that made you clench harder around his pulsating length, “Yeonjunnie, fuck her mouth. Make her take both of us at once.”

At least Yeonjun had the decency to ask you, “Would you like that, baby? Want me to cum down your throat, too?”

Halfway through a moan, you nodded furiously. It took too much energy to form coherent words, but you tried for him.

“P-please,” you choked out, “Wan’ it in my m-mouth.”

“Good girl,” Yeonjun praised, positioning your head so you hung slightly from the edge of the bed. You watched with lidded eyes as he collected his arousal from the tip with the hand that wasn’t holding the phone and stroked himself with it. He tapped his veiny cock against your waiting lips. “Gonna pump my cum down your throat now, beautiful.”

Eagerly, you wrapped your lips around the older man’s tip, giving it a little suck before allowing him to thrust the rest of his length down your hot mouth. Both the taste of your cum and his from earlier still lingered on his skin, and you moaned around him as you realized this. You took into your hands what your mouth couldn’t take, twisting them while relaxing your muscles to take him deeper. 

Yeonjun barely captured your sinful position on camera before he dropped his phone, sending it clattering to the floor.

They should really set up a tripod next time.

Next time.

He quickly became erratic in his movements. He couldn’t believe his wettest, wildest dreams came true tonight. He threw his head back in ecstasy while you swallowed him whole, sweat running down his chest and the sides of his face.

Fuck, fuck, and what if he looked at his best friend right now-

Soobin, still pummeling relentlessly into your battered cunt, stared right back at him. They held eye contact while thrusting into both your holes, chests heaving from the pleasure that drowned their hot bodies and addled their lust-ridden minds. For them, nothing else existed in this moment except for the sound of their skin repeatedly coming in contact with your holes, the squelch of juices and spit, the scent of sex, the buzz that lit their lower halves on fire, and the humid air that sent perspiration dripping down their bodies to your equally spent one.

“Think you can last longer than me, Jun-ah?” The younger challenged, pulling out almost completely then slamming back into you forcefully. You whined around Yeonjun’s cock.

“Huh,” the older huffed, “I’ll even let her ride me after this, then I’ll fuck her in front of that mirror Y/N and I bought together over there.”

Soobin spared the dirty floor-length mirror a glance, “Yeah? You’re nasty. I could guess how many times your conceited ass came all over that thing.”

Yeonjun’s hand found its way to your throat, groaning when he saw the slight outline of his cock. “You’re nastier, Bin-ah. You hide Y/N’s sweaters whenever she comes over and cum all over them at night, dirty perv.”

Again, you let out another moan and desperately humped against Soobin’s hips, trying to get his dick deeper into you. All the dirty confessions they’re making in front of you made you gush out more juices. Soobin clicked his tongue and suddenly pulled out of you, taking a moment to appreciate the sticky strings of arousal that connected his member to your cunt. You whined at the loss of contact and Yeonjun was quick to thrust that down your throat again.

Meanwhile, Soobin pushed your knees up to your chest and aligned his cock with your entrance.

“Little slut wants more?” He sneered, “I’ll give you more, then. We’ve got all night.”

He sheathed his cock in the deepest he could go, invading your folds once more and pushing your juices in. Soobin let out the hottest, most desperate moan he’s made so far and began panting again. His hips moved at a rapid pace, causing clear-white fluid to form around where the base of his cock and your pussy met. You could feel the wetness spread further on your thighs and pour onto Yeonjun’s sheets.

The older man watched this development greedily, pulling out of you momentarily to give you room to rest and moan loudly as Soobin abused your leaking hole. Seeking leverage, you felt around until your hand found Yeonjun’s thigh. He grabbed your tits, pinching your nipples and rolling them in his fingers, causing them to harden. You sobbed, grasping at his thigh tighter.

“Yeonjunnie,” you gasped, “c-cock…”

He quickly complied, pushing his hips back into your mouth to receive the pleasure your tongue and cheeks gave him. 

You moaned around Yeonjun’s cock, but you could hear the latter scoff at the statement.

Soobin delivered a harsh slap to your ass, making you impossibly tighter, your juices and tightness simultaneously sucking him in and pushing him out.

“Fuck, baby, your cunt’s so greedy ‘n hot.” He groaned, “Gonna stuff this pussy day and night so it’ll never be empty, you like that?”

It’s always a competition between these two, you thought.

“I’m close, sweetheart,” Yeonjun panted, pushing back his sweaty hair to bask in the feeling of you swallowing his dick. “Take it like the good girl you are, hm? Give me another thing to think about every night.”

Soobin’s mouth hung open in pleasure, but he still had the energy to roll his eyes at the older man. He began to indulge you in more dirty talk.

“What a complete slut. Already came around Junnie and me several times but can still give us more, hm? Gonna fucking pound this pussy until all you can cum around is our cocks, right?”

He laid his palm on your abdomen and used his thumb to draw figures on your clit. You keened.

Coupled with his erratic thrusts, thumb motions, and Yeonjun’s fingers on your pebbled nipples, you were suddenly flooded with a white-hot pleasure. Your body thrashed around to no avail as your two best friends held you in place. 

The three of you were a sight to behold. Yeonjun’s cock twitched in your mouth, and he released thick spurts of cum in you as you moaned around him, letting him coat your tongue with his essence. You did your best to swallow, although you began to choke from the pleasure Soobin was giving you below.

The younger man ruthlessly snapped his hips into your wetness, ropes of cum shooting into your hole and kissing your cervix for the second time that night, filling you up with his hot semen. His moans came from deep within his chest, and you found that incredibly hot. You couldn’t see his face but imagined his blissed-out expression from emptying his balls in you.

In the middle if it all, your cunt met Soobin’s cum with your own, clenching uncontrollably while struggling to take in the semen Yeonjun spilled in your mouth. Each spurt into both your holes brought you closer to blacking out from the sheer pleasure.

The three of you relished in the sounds and sensations of your orgasms, the room a mess of moans and cries and squelches. Once they pulled out, your exhausted bodies went slack. Both men fell to either side of you on the bed, heaving deep breaths. Still abuzz with the effects of your orgasm, you became aware of yours and Soobin’s cum seeping out of your abused pussy. You could still feel the warm cum smeared on your chin, courtesy of Yeonjun.

On your left, the culprit quietly laughed and reached over to stroke your hair, “That was intense, baby. You okay?” he whispered, “Soobin did a number on you.”

You grinned weakly, “Says the one who first pulled me in here to eat me out.”

“Hey,” Soobin suddenly said, “We should do this again.”

“How soon?” Yeonjun smirked, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

You felt Soobin’s hand on your thigh, getting closer to your still-sensitive core.

There’s your answer.

[nanamis-bigtie]

50 Smutty Fics Ideas

Made this for an event I haven't run in the end, but it'd be a pity to keep them hidden. I hope they'll help your creativity flow!

A and B are hiding together in a tight place, their bodies pressed close. With adrenaline running in their veins, the situation eventually gets out of control.

A and B are dancing what eventually leads to a slow, intimate dance. A gets aroused from B pressing close to them.

A has an obvious crush on B and plans to finally confess. A chickens out and tries to opt out of the situation, but B presses them to speak in a spicy way.

A is tied to an altar as a sacrifice to demon!B. More than taking their life, B is interested in taking their body.

During a visit in a sex shop A spots a weird toy. B suggests purchase as a joke. Little do they know A seriously wants to use it.

A and B are friends with benefits. A's feelings turn out to be genuine, but they don't want to ruin the balance, so they keep it to themself…until they accidentally slip a confession during sex.

A is really into a specific body type/body part and B's body looks as if taken straight out of A's fantasy. A can't hold it anymore and reveals how much B turns them on.

A and B are on a motorcycle trip. The constant movement, vibration and touching is getting them excited.

A walks on B changing. It's the first time they see them naked, and they can't peel their eyes off them.

A survives a near miss. B, worried and scared to death, doesn't want to leave their side since then.

A and B need to share bed due to circumstances. They wake up in each other's arms and it awakens something in them.

A goes down on B. B wears nothing but stockings. At some point A starts tearing them out of the way with their teeth.

A loves B's scent but they keep it secret. One day B catches A masturbating while sniffing a piece of their clothing.

The way A moans "I love you" turns B absolutely feral.

A tries to get B jealous as a part of their flirting game. B snaps way harder then A predicted.

A and B are in a dom-sub relationship. A breaks a rule and B has to again teach them how to be a good sub.

A is less experienced in kink than B. B introduces them to the world of kink with their favorite one.

A gets extra loud during sex so B has to cover their lips. Limited oxygen/fingers in mouth insanely turn A on.

A and B meet for what's not supposed to be a romantic date - but they feel so good around each other, it's suddenly 2am, and they don't really want to part. A proposes B to move the meeting to their place.

A is arguing with B. They truly can't decide whether they want to kill or fuck B more.

That was supposed to be just a make out session, but A kisses so good that B gets impossibly aroused.

A and B are about to face a dangerous situation. They want to enjoy life before it might be too late.

A celebrates a great success with B. Drinks and festive atmosphere quickly turn the matters spicy.

It's A's birthday and they find B tied to bed in nothing but very revealing lingerie.

After a soul-draining break up, A wants to get rid of remaining grief & enter a new path of life with a bang: they contact B, a professional dom.

A and B realize they are being watched during sex. They don't intend to stop.

A is in a middle of meeting when they receive a message B. It's a very explicit nude.

A puts a blade by B's throat, be it seriously or as a joke/teasing. B's reaction is…enthusiastic.

A's hands seriously distract B. Their reactions eventually clue A in: and they decide to use the new knowledge to their favor.

A and B get trapped in one small space and need to wait for emergency. If only there was a way to kill the boredom…

A uses a sexual favor to convince B to do something.

A suffers from pent-up stress and frustration. B offers their body for them to use to get rid of negative emotions.

During soft, vanilla sex A asks B to try something different/rougher.

A shoves B against the wall. Now, once they are so close, A can't stop looking at B's face/lips/body part of choice.

A has lips/tongue/nipples/genitals pierced. B is really curious how does it feel during sex.

A rolls sleeves up/takes shirt off, revealing body hair to B. B has no idea how to act normal around A anymore.

A is usually reserved when it comes to intimacy and emotions. When in public, B does something that breaks A. A pulls B close and whispers to them: "I need you. Now."

A is preparing themself to roll with their day. B walks on them wearing nothing but their shirt.

A tends to neglect their needs. B uses kink as a way of taking care of them.

It's unbearably hot and A switches to wearing short and fine dresses. B finds out they are wearing no underwear underneath.

A has a really big dick/strap, B struggles to take it. A taunts and teases them about it.

Good cock & bad cock routine with dom!A, dom!B and sub!C. A praises C while B degrades and taunts them.

A and B are in a dedicated but open relationship. C grabs their mutual interest.

A loses a bet and now has to do what B tells them.

A, B, C (and maybe more 🤭) running a train on D.

A has a dark/unusual sexual fantasy & they bring it up to their partner, B. B agrees to try it out.

After a longer break A is so needy for sex that they can't enough of B. B is a trembling, ruined mess, but A just keeps going.

A is filthy rich & B is their sugar baby. A pays B a ridiculous amount of money to try a kinky scenario out.

A is a virgin but also very curious about a certain kink. B does their best to let them try it in a safe and satisfying way.

Wedding night between A and B takes an extra spicy turn.

Please, reblog and/or credit, when you use (but don't @ me!). The divider made by @/saradika.

[sturnioz]

‘DRIVERS PLEASURE’ — MATTHEW STURNIOLO

pairing. matthew sturniolo x fem!reader genre. smut

word count. 2.2k

❝do you want me to help you with that?❞

content warnings. established relationship, explicit content, car head, oral (m receiving), blowjob, handjob, small mention of spitting, mention of hair pulling, possible exhibitionism,

You sigh softly as you glance at your reflection in the sun visor mirror of your boyfriends car, fingertips grazing the corner of your lips, erasing any excess lipstick that may have smeared during the ride and that your mascara hasn’t left any smudges on your eyelids.

You rushed when Matt had suddenly asked you out on a last-minute date and you were more than desperate to see him, having not been alone with him for a long period of time due to his busy schedule.

You had rapidly searched around your bedroom for the most suitable and clean clothing you could find, and hastily applied your makeup, your eagerness to finally see him overshadowed any concerns about your appearance until you you were parked outside the restaurant with just a few minutes remaining before you had to make it inside for your dinner reservation.

“What are you doing?”

“Making sure I look okay,” You tell him, adjusting the strands of hair framing your face. Your shoulders slump in defeat as you continue, “I don’t feel okay.”

Matt raises his eyebrow as he asks, “Why?”

“I rushed to get ready before you picked me up, so my makeup is all messy, and my outfit looks silly, and—”

“No, it doesn’t,” Matt interrupts your rambling, a gentle smile creeping onto his face as he gazes at you from the driver's seat. “I think you look pretty. Really pretty,” You side eye him sceptically, but Matt chuckles, his teeth gently biting down on his bottom lip as he widens his smile. “No, seriously, I mean it… you look beautiful.”

Your head turns towards him and your heart swells at his compliment. The adoration and affection reflected in Matt’s eyes is enough to make you a little overwhelmed and without hesitation, you lean over the console and cup his face, pressing your lips against his.

Matt’s surprised exclamation is muffled by the kiss, caught off guard as he didn’t expect you to kiss him so suddenly, but he allows himself to melt into your touch. His eyelashes flutter against his cheeks as he closes his eyes, tilting his head to deepen the kiss with more love and urgency. 

Every kiss you share with Matt feels like the first, sweet and tender. His lips on yours leaves you feeling dizzy as if you’re intoxicated, and you yearn for more, yet it never escalates beyond heavy make-out sessions with wandering hands that fail to explore beneath the clothes. 

Surprisingly, you don’t really mind. You didn’t want to push or rush into something that might ruin what you have with Matt. The relationship is still new, having only become official a few weeks ago, so there’s no need to rush into anything… However, there are moments when you crave for him. Badly. 

As always, you’re the one to break away from the kiss and an amused chuckle leaves you as Matt follows your lips, his own still puckered and waiting for you to return. Giving him one quick kiss, you suggest that it’s probably best for you both to go wait inside, unfastening your seatbelt and preparing to leave until Matt’s voice echoes throughout the vehicle. 

“Wait!”

His raised tone startles you and you jump as his hand extends out, firmly grasping your wrist to prevent you from opening the car door. Your movements freeze, and you gaze at him with concern swimming in your eyes, unsure of what’s happening and why he’s reacting in such a certain way.

You notice the pink hue tinting his cheeks and the flush that spreads across his neck, chest rising and falling rapidly with each heavy breath he takes. His mouth opens and closes like a fish out of what, and under different circumstances, the sight would’ve been hilarious. However, you were too worried about his sudden outburst to laugh.

Matt struggles to form a coherent sentence, and the grip his fingers have on your wrist tightens as he lowers his head to look down at his lap. Your gaze follows, and your eyes widen when you see the obvious tent in his pants.

Your hand rips free out of Matt’s grip as you slap it over your mouth, trying to stifle your laughter which makes Matt’s cheeks grow even more red.

“Wa—wait, I just—It’s like—” Matt stammers, his hands flailing in the air in a panicked manner before he hastily grabs the hem of his shirt, tugging it down to cover the bulge, avoiding direct eye contact with you. “Shut up. Stop. I have no control over that—”

“Matt, it’s okay.” You reassure him as your hand drops from your mouth, unable to hide the smile on your face. Truthfully, you’re a little flattered that a simple kiss can make Matt react like that. It boosts your ego immensely, and the thoughts that run through your mind are wild.

He continues to act embarrassed, tugging his shirt down further to hide himself but the friction of the shirt rubbing over the material of his jeans makes him tense up, eyes widening as a stifled grunt seeps past his lips. 

“Matt…” You call out his name and his head turns to finally meet your eyes. You feel confident, maybe too confident as you say your next words, “Do you want me to help you?"

“Help me?” He repeats, blinking at you. “What do you—Oh. Wait. No. I swear, it’s fine. Just give me a few minutes and it’ll—oh shit.”

Matt curses, hissing through his teeth as you decide to bravely place your hand on his upper thigh, squeezing the skin beneath your fingers as you lean in closer to him, the centre console digging into the stomach. His gaze flicks between your hand and you advancing towards him, unsure on where to look until your nose is barely brushing against his own.

He swallows thickly at that look on your face, silently asking him the same question again and he struggles to find his voice, bobbing his head slowly in a short nod. He lets go of his shirt, dropping his hands to his side limply as he watches you work the button of his jeans, popping them open and pulling down the zipper before your hand dips beneath the waistband, cupping his through his boxers.

Matt exhales deeply, body relaxing into the driver's seat as he observes your actions with half-lidded eyes, bottom lip tucked between his teeth and fists clenching at his side.

You’re giddy as you free his cock from his boxers, the sheer size of them sending a thrilling buzz to your cunt and you meet his eyes with a surprised grin.

“What?” His voice is quiet as he questions, “What’s wrong?”

“You’re big, Matt.”

Matt’s tongue prods at his cheek, trying to fight off the urge to smile at your compliment as his chin tucks into his chest, unable to look you in the eyes. His cheeks grow warm with a slight pink hue, but his mouth drops open with a sharp intake of breath as you slowly wrap your fingers around him the best you can. 

Your lips hover above his cock, letting a wad of spit sit at the tip and using your thumb to smear it over the slit and head of his cock, causing his hips to jerk upwards.

The sound of him whispering curses through airy gasps and grunts is enough to urge you downwards, taking his tip into your mouth, letting it lay on your tongue for an experimental taste before pushing your head further down, taking his cock into your throat and swallowing around him.

“Oh my go—fuck.” Matt suddenly whimpers loudly, pressing his fist to his mouth and biting down on his skin, nervous eyes glancing around the restaurant's parking lot to see if anyone was lingering around outside.

He was thankful to have brought you both out near nightfall, but he was even more thankful that he had decided to park a few spaces away from the building itself, tucked away beneath a tree and barely any street lights

You struggle not to smile at the effect you have on him as your bob your head, exaggeratingly moaning to send vibrations down his cock and again, his hips jerk upwards at the sensation, and a guttural sound rips from the back of your throat as he accidentally chokes you with his sudden movements. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry—” He repeatedly apologises to you, his hand coming down to affectionately smooth the back of your head, ringed fingers getting tangled in your hair and he tugs without realising when you hollow your cheeks around him, the burn on your scalp sending a shiver down your spine.

“Does it feel good?” You ask him once you take your mouth off of him to breathe, using your hand to continue jerking him off as you gaze up at him.

Matt struggles to keep his eyes open as he nods, untangling his fingers out of his hair to press his palm on your cheek, putting at your bottom lip and you lay a gentle kiss on the pad of his thumb.

Matt smiles giddily at that, head lolling to the side and resting against the fogged up windows, breathing unsteady as he continues watching.

It completely erased from your mind that you’re currently giving Matt head in a public parking lot until you hear a distant car horn in the background, and usually, under any different circumstance, you would have stopped everything and asked to be driven away out of pure embarrassment from possibly getting caught.

But seeing the blissful look on Matt’s face, and how strangely nice it feels to have him in your throat, tasting him on your tongue, you don’t care. 

You almost wouldn’t mind if anyone walked by and caught the two of you in this position. 

“I think I’m gonna cum soon,” Matt breathes out heavily before his eyes widen. “Yeah, no—shit—you’re definitely gonna make me cum.”

“That’s okay.” You coo softly, giving him the sweetest smile before you swallow around him once again, tightening your throat around his cock and he grunts, his hand resuming its position on the top of your head again.

“Where do you want me to cum, sweetheart?” The pet name sends you spiralling and your cunt clenches around nothing, arousal building in the pit of your stomach. 

You move your head faster, working at a pace that has his thighs shaking. His cock fucks your throat raw and you can breifly hear him calling out your name, tugging at your hair slightly to get your attention and pull you off of him, but you resist and shove your head down further, the tip of your nose touching his navel.

“Fuck… do you want me to cum in your mouth?”

You hum around him for confirmation and Matt whines under his breath, voicing ‘you’re so hot’ as his hand falls from the top of your head to your free hand that’s resting on his knee for balance. 

His fingers thread through your own, intertwining them tightly, thumb caressing over your knuckles in small circles, and the second you squeeze his hand back, to let him know that you’ve got him, he cums in thick spurts down your throat with a moan.

Matt’s thighs trembling beneath you, but you take no notice, too busy making sure you’ve swallowed every drop he’s giving you, sucking him dry until he’s physically unable to give you anymore and is begging for you to release him, too sensitive to continue.

His cock falls from your mouth with a wet plop and you sit up in your seat, taking a quick glance in the sun visor mirror like you had done earlier before, and you stifle a laugh at how you’ve definitely ruined your makeup this time.

You reach for your purse and open it up, grabbing a few facial makeup wipes that you carry with you and try to clean yourself up as best as you possibly can, even though there was no use. 

Matt is panting heavily beside you, body twitching as he comes down from his high and he runs his fingers through his hair as he tries to regulate his breathing before he’s tucking his flaccid cock back into his boxers.

He’s buttoning up his jeans, casting you a glance as he pulls up the zipper, watching as you finish completely wiping the smudged lipstick off of your lips and dabbing the mascara excess under your eyes.

“I think we missed our dinner reservation by the way,” You joke, a chuckle leaving your lips as you grab your phone to check the time. You did miss it. “Sorry.”

“That’s a shame,” Matt says, his voice dipping low. “I’m still hungry.”

You feel a little guilty, “We can go get takeout—”

“No. Not for that,” Matt immediately shakes his head and you turn to look at him. “I’m hungry for something else. Something better.”

“Better?” You repeat, raising your eyebrow suggestively as you lean back into your seat, crossing your arms over your chest as the corner of your lips threaten to curl up into a smirk. “And what would that be?”

“You.”

© sturnioz

[lanabuckybarnes]

Would you write a plus size reader w either bucky or steve(or both) where they are her first real relationship and she gets scared that she doesn't deserve to be with either of them and so she tries to push them away so she doesn't get hurt but instead they show her why she is their person.... like tooth rotting fluff and the filthiest smut..... if that's okay if not no worries

| All Yours, Only Yours |

18+ Minors DNI

✧Pairing✧ Bucky Barnes x Plus Size!Reader

✧Warnings✧ A lil angsty, Sharon being a big bully (like seriously you’re 50 and you’re bullying someone? ick), Name calling, Angry Buck, Crying, Bucky is a simp, Confessions, Marking, Dry humping, Oral (F), Fingering (F), Teeny bit of cum play, Dirty talk, Unprotected PinV, Praise, Petnames, My shitty writing — again very tame for me but i didnt want to go overboard. If there any more I’ve neglected to add please let me know.

✧Word Count✧ 4.3K

✧Author Note✧ I really hope you enjoy this and I've done your request justice, I honestly tried my best but idk…Anyways!!! Much love to everyone, please let me know what you think. Love ya xxx

“Still not answering?” Natasha asks from her spot in the cockpit, concern evident from the wrinkle between her brows.

“Nope” he spits his reply, reeling from the whole ordeal. He thrusts his phone into his jean pocket, sick to the back teeth of nothing but a black screen greeting him instead of your sweet little messages.

“Did you piss her off or something?” Sam tries to lighten the mood but is swiftly shut down, his hands rising in surrender at the killer glare the brunette shot his way.

“Calm down everyone, we’ll be home soon so we can figure this out” Steve, the voice of reason commands order within the small confines of the jet. He sits, a gloved hand rubbing over his friend's shoulder trying to reassure his muddled brain but to no avail.

Bucky is pissed. He’s pissed and he’s worried sick. A week he’s been gone for and he’s missing you like crazy. The only issue? You are ignoring him, straight up ghosting his brooding ass which is completely unlike you. Often on missions when Bucky clicks his phone on he’s greeted with a flurry of messages from you; photos of little birds you see on your walks, photos of alpine taken at odd angles and constant little messages that make his heart full and ready to continue his painstaking missions—none of it, just a notification from your favourite restaurant offering a discount to keep him happy.

As soon as this jet landed he was going to get to the bottom of what was going on and then he was going to cuddle you to death as punishment. Not that he’d let anyone else know that.

One Week Earlier…

Beep beep beep. Bucky’s alarm sounds at the ungodly hour of five am, his groan following. He didn't want to get out of this bed, he was too warm, his huge body wrapped around yours. Your movements spurred his own, your arm reaching over to switch off his alarm while he pushed himself into a sit, thoughts already on the mission afoot.

“Morning,” your raspy voice purrs, bringing his attention back to you. His eyes fall to your face; following the slope of your puffy cheeks up to your barely open eyes, your hues peeking through only enough to tease him. Putting his weight on his right arm he’s on top of you before you can blink, his head tucked into the crook of your neck, peppering tiny kisses along the warm skin.

“Morning princess,” he bites back his yawn, shifting so his hips slot in their spot between your plush thighs, loving the way they wrapped around his narrow waist just the way he loved. Practice truly did make perfect. His dark vibranium fingers drifted from your collarbone, over the swell of your breast until it found its favourite perch on your hips.

“So fucking pretty” he breathes, his pupils dilating to let more of you in — until you pushed him away.

“You gotta get ready Mr” you giggle, moving your foot so you could push him further away, ruining his plan B of pinning you down by your hips.

“Don’t remind me…”

His cold left hand hooks around your ankle, pushing at it until your knee hinged, bending up and out. A suspicious hardness presses against you, a wicked smile on your boyfriend’s face.

“I mean it Buck we can’t, Nat will be kicking that door down any minute” he groans at your words knowing that you are completely right. That lock had been replaced an embarrassing amount of times because of that exact situation. You hated rejecting him, knowing that he could easily put you back to sleep until midday if he wanted. After a small standoff between you both you warn him again, an arch in your brow and a growl behind his name.

“You’re such a little tease, you know that?”

You laugh, sitting up, watching him skulk around the room in nothing but his grey Calvin Kleins, “I haven’t done anything!”

“Sure you haven’t” he argues, moving over to you again, his metal fingers looping under your chin to tilt your head back to gaze up at him, “Looking so fucking sexy in the morning and I can’t fuck you stupid. That’s not teasing that’s damn near criminal.”

You groan, rolling your eyes at your pouty 106-year-old man. You inch closer to his mouth, a sickly sweet definitely not bratty smirk on your face. “Get your ass ready.”

“Fine…but only because you looked so fucking sexy ordering me around,”

“Bucky!” You shout after him, blush on your full cheeks. He only smirks over his shoulder, pushing his briefs to the floor at the entrance to the bathroom, giving you a full view of his posterior.

You get up too, knowing you had been awake too long to fall asleep again. You get ready with the shower as background noise, pulling on some workout clothes. Today you decided you’d try out the gym right here in the compound, you’d been to many different ones in the past; often polluted with the smell of days-old sweat and men reeking of testosterone, grunting and groaning at weights you could only dream of lifting.

An hour later, after waving Bucky off on his week-long mission you were in the gym.

“Hey” you smile as you pass Sharon, her blonde hair whipping as she ducks and weaves to dodger imaginary punches the bag throws out before throwing a couple of her own. She offers you a tight-lipped smile, her eyes straying from your face down your body. She takes note of your long top and shorts that settle around mid-thigh compared to her sports bra and tiny shorts — her flat stomach and sculpted legs on display.

God you wish you had just as much ventilation. Just as you go to place your earphones in your ears you hear a scoff coming from Sharon’s direction. You pay it no mind, setting the treadmill for a nice incline and pace, pressing the timer until it shone with the time you wanted.

The treadmill slowed for the cooldown. Your eyes moved from the display in front to glance over your shoulder, the gym was empty. You grab your bottle only to realise thanks to your distraction you'd finished off your water. You stop the treadmill and hop off, making a beeline for the kitchen. The walk to the kitchen from the gym wasn’t that long but with the feeling of your sweat culminating in places you didn’t want it to be it was almost torturous.

“I couldn’t believe it when I saw her,”

A gaggle of hushed laughs comes from the kitchen, stopping you. A familiar dread coils in your stomach, reminding you of when you were young, the children pointing and laughing — joking at your expense.

“she must been on that treadmill for about five minutes and she was all like huff huff” she laughs obnoxiously “Her face was like a big tomato, I almost died trying to keep myself from laughing” Sharon continues.

The group cackles again at your expense, almost doubling as Sharon makes the huffing noise again. You cling to your shirt, pulling it from sticking to your body. These women you thought were friends did just what everyone else did.

“She’s pathetic, I don’t know what Bucky sees in her” Your heart stops. That little devil on your jumps and cheers at the confirmation of what it has been telling you since the start of your relationship with Bucky. You were never enough.

“I can’t wait for him to dump her once he gets sick of her wide load.”

Tears fall on their own accord but you don't register them, too busy inside your head being suffocated by every doubt and self-conscious thought you ever had since you confessed your feelings for the super soldier. You didn't deserve Bucky and everyone thought that too.

Back at your room, freshly clean. You scrolled through your messages from Bucky. The little hearts next to his messages no longer felt genuine like he was only doing it merely to save your feelings from being hurt. You were nothing but a burden that he was forced to bear; it wouldn’t be long before like Sharon said, he got sick of the clinginess and the need for reassurance and broke up with you.

Well, you weren’t going to be a burden any longer. You wouldn’t let him break your heart first. You turned your phone off, tucking it into your bedside drawer.

—

“Bucky wait!” Sam calls from the quinjet but it goes ignored. Bucky’s face is twisted in annoyance as he takes wide, purposeful steps towards the tower doors. He was going to find you and you were going to tell him why the fuck you were ignoring him.

He ignores the shouts of his name as Nat, Steve and Sam follow him indoors, smashing the elevator button with his thumb and stepping inside. Once on your floor, he stormed like a charging bull to your room, slamming a gloved fist on your door in a poor excuse for a knock.

The loud knocking from the other end of the room had you jumping back in your seat, the slee overtaking you gone in an instant. Your heart lurched at the familiar face, worn from exhaustion and malice clear from the scrunching of his forehead and tick in his cheek muscle.

“Oh hello, where have you been?” Bucky snaps, glaring down at you as you use the door as a shield from his scrutinising eyes. Here it comes, the moment you’d prepared for all week. You don’t think you’ll go back to dating apps, too many weird me—

“You know how worried I was when you didn't answer me all week?”

Huh. “Huh?”

“‘Huh?’ Are you joking? You ghosted me, left me scared to death on a mission halfway across the globe and all you can say to me is huh!” His blue eyes glisten and you look at them closer. There was no anger there, only concern and fear culminating in swirls across his blue orbs, rearing its head in rage across Bucky’s face.

“Bucky I—” you try but you can’t find the words, each syllable sticks in your throat, balling up until it feels like you can no longer breathe. The week of bottled-up emotions spills forth at the sight of him — at the revelation that he was utterly terrified. Tears fall from your eyes before you know it, your lip wobbling as you keep trying to speak.

Bucky’s shoulders tense at the sight of tiny tears falling over your full cheeks, guilt replacing his earlier pain,

“Fuck c’mere baby” he pulls you close, bending at an almost uncomfortable angle just to hold you as close as humanly possible.

“I'm so sorry for being so annoyed but you have to see why I was so scared something had happened to you. You left me on read for an entire week and blanked my calls. That isn’t you, you know how scary that was for me?” He whispers so softly, backing you up to sit on your bed.

In his arms, surrounded by his warmth and scent the week you had fell from your mouth like alphabet soup, from the gym to Sharon to how hard it was to ignore your phone knowing that Bucky would’ve been calling you every single day but you did it to protect your own heart. Nothing was kept a secret.

“I’ll kill her,” he growls when you finish, muscles tightening even more around you.

“Buck.”

“Right…sorry, I won't kill her” He lied between his teeth, well sort of. He wouldn’t actually kill Sharon but he knew you'd be upset if he did anything to her which he was indeed planning to do but to save you any more pain for the evening, to keep that teeny tiny smile on your face he lied.

“What makes her think she has any fucking right to speak on other people’s appearance anyway?”

“She wasn't lying…” it came out in the tiniest little voice, maybe your way of silently hoping he didn't hear it and he wouldn’t have if it weren't for his super soldier ears.

Gripping onto your wrists Bucky flipped your world in an instant, the breath leaving your lungs as your back makes contact with the bed, your wrists caught on either side of your head.

“Are you lying to me doll?” He says, raising a brow at you.

“No…”

“You are! You're lying right to my face,” he argues, pressing your wrists further into the mattress below. Your eyes fall shut as his face inches closer to yours.

“Look at me princess,” he waits until you open both eyes again, looking up at him as if he strung the stars in the sky “There is not a single thing that I'd change about you and I mean that. I fell in love with you the way you are now, you aren't some bitch that gets off on making fun of others. I fell head over damn heels for you because you are you.”

His eyes sparkle with adoration, his hands running up and down your body softly. The juxtaposition of metal on one side and warmth on the other sends shivers up your spine.

“I love you,” he breathes, leaning down again till your lips graze his. A teasing smile pulled on the pink corners of his mouth, a similar glint in his eyes, “you know that right?”

“Yes,” you nod, pushing up to close the distance between your mouths but he pulls away.

“I don't think you do,”

“I do Buck I promise.”

“Well…” he began, the glint in his eyes dulling as want engulfed the colour, “let me make sure.”

Bucky takes his time. He has to knowing that you're feeling small. Slowly his lips slot with yours, ushering out sweet little sounds to replace the broken ones that still thrum fresh in his mind.

“I love you,” he says again, capturing your hitched gasp with his tongue as he pushes it past the seam of your mouth, the tip flicking against your own to entice it to mingle. Slowly but surely the tension drips from your shoulders, your arms moving from his grip to trail up over his rigid stomach and chest. They sink below the shoulder pads of his jacket, pushing it off his broad frame and onto the floor beside the bed. Your hands paw at the exposed skin on his arm, fingers squeezing, nails scraping over the corded muscle.

“All of yours…all of it.”

Each time the seal of your mouths broke you chase them, planting kisses teeming with nothing but raw desire onto kiss-bitten lips. The words that Sharon said are long gone from your mind now, replaced by the man in front of you. Everything you smell, taste, touch and see — it's all him.

The brunette slips off his glove; his warm and cold, metal hand grips your hips, pulling you up into his lap with a squeak.

“You feel that?” He grunts, moving from your mouth down your face to your neck. His lips suck and his teeth nibble, marking you, proving to anyone around that dare dispute his love for you again. With undeniable strength he grinds you down into a sizeable bulge poking from his tight jeans, he hisses at the contact, letting a hand fall to your ass with a small spank.

Your arousal seeps through your thin panties making them stick to your dainty folds; your clit buzzes at the delicious scratch the metal of his zip brings you — a gasp catching in your throat every time your neglected nub catches the pull tab.

As much as he worshiped the way you dry-humped his cock, soaking the front of his jeans. Bucky is desperate. After a week of no contact, not even a tiny emoji heart never mind a raunchy photo, he needs something — anything. And he's going to get it.

“Get on the bed” he demands, pushing at you ever so slightly. “Panties off.”

You do as you are told, fingers frantically hooking into the waistband of your underwear, rolling the material over your thick thighs until they hook around a single ankle.

“Spread those legs for me baby, lemme see that sweet little cunt.”

You hesitate for a second, your legs twitching to open but knees knocking again as you close them. Blown pupils snap onto your face his jaw clenched hard and his nostrils flared. Before you can react his calloused hands settle gently, luring you into a false sense of security.

They soothe down your thighs as his blue eyes study you. Inch by inch his dull nails tap over your beautifully wide thighs until he's back at your kneecaps. With a soft unassuming smile, bucky pushes your legs wide, a rush of oxygen leaving you as your sopping folds are exposed to the cool air of the room. He doesn't give you a chance to breathe before a warm hand smacks over your wet folds, your body jerks, an unabashed moan flying from your parted lips.

“Don't fucking deny me this” he growls, fire roaring in his eyes. “You ghosted me for a week, now you're gonna lie there all pretty and let me eat this sweet fucking cunt.”

You nod, biting your lip. At the first presence of him between your legs, his hot breath billowing over your labia, your eyes roll into the back of your skull. Over each fold, ridge and crevice his breath fans, a shiver rolling over your spine each time; without warning he lays his tongue flat and wide, licking a strip from hole to clit. His tongue disappears and he does it again, guttural sounds falling from him at your taste mixing with the sharp trills you let out.

“Sing for me baby, let me know how good I'm making that pretty pussy feel” He delves in like a man starved, devouring your cunt as though it were his first and last ever meal on earth. He'd die happily if it were.

You were a mess, a mess of pleading cries. Your legs shake against his powerful hold, your hands grip his unruly brunette locks. Letting his hands drop from your thighs he stops his slurping to lay a soft, sweet peck on your raw clit. He smiles up at you, his face glistening with your juices visible thanks to the city lights peeking in through your open windows. Your mind wandered, wondering if the people in the building across could see the way Bucky fucked his tongue into you, curling the long muscle up to press against that ridged spot on your upper walls — he hit it with ease every time.

Using your distraction as an advantage bucky moves a hand to join his mouth, sliding his fingers in alongside his tongue for a second before he pulls his tongue from you. He moves, looming over you with a massive shit-eating grin at how much he unravelled you. you should've been embarrassed at how wet his face was; slick ran from his stubbled upper lip over and below his chin. You had done that to him and he wore it proudly. His fingers push deeper and curl out, coaxing the coils in your stomach to snap.

“Come on baby I know you feel it” he speeds up, the sound of your messy pussy almost as loud as your harsh breaths and whimpers.

“Buckyyy” you squeal, gripping at anything you can.

“That's it, baby…you're squeezing around my fingers, are you gonna cum?”

You nod but it's not enough for your man. He dips, nipping at a pebbled nipple and that's all it takes for those tightly coiled ropes to pull taut and snap. A sound you've never heard from yourself erupts from your lungs, your fingers clutching at bucky, the sheets, anything. Stars peppered your vision, blocking out the smug image of your boyfriend, blood rushing in your ears muffling his words of praise.

“Come back to me baby, that's it, good girl. such a good girl” Bucky coos, his fingers slipping out to rub lazily at your clit. He keeps going until you jerk harshly in his hold.

“You did so well, such a good fucking girl cumming like that for me” He praises, kissing your cheek and then your mouth, a smirk pulling at his lips when you moan at your taste.

You flash him a big dopey smile in return, your eyes hazy and your plump little cheeks flushed. You look gorgeous; Bucky had seen many things in his long drawn-out life but nothing could ever compare to how you looked fucked out beneath him.

He would stay like this forever…if his cock wasn't aching for release.

He stands, fiddling with his belt and fly until it comes loose. He wastes no time in pushing them both past his round ass and onto the floor, his cock springing free. His shirt goes next, thrown somewhere in your small room letting you get the full experience of what Bucky had to offer you. Layers of corded muscle ripple beneath his silky but scarred skin, his chest peppered in tiny curly hairs that sink below his sternum and over his abs where they begin to thicken until they finish, well trimmed at the base of his thick, heavy cock.

His eyes never stray from your body as he takes himself in his hand, pumping once, twice, his thumb catching the precum leaking from his tip. He kneels back between your welcoming legs, rubbing his slick thumb over your lips. A hushed chuckle vibrates in his chest as you suck the thumb into your mouth, eagerly licking his taste from the digit.

“Such a dirty girl,” you giggle, pulling back until his thumb slips out of your mouth with a pop. “Do you think you can handle one more hm? Can you let me fuck that little hole?”

“yes Buck” you smile, your eyes falling shut as he kisses you again.

“good girl” he growls, moving your legs over his own before grabbing a pillow to squish under your hips. With one hand he pushes the head of his length through your mess, dipping into your hole before running back up over your clit. He does it a few times, occasionally slapping his cock against you, praising each tiny sound you let out.

“Please Buck” You toss your head back, grinding your hips up to meet nothing. At this rate, you were going to come to nothing more than his teasing.

“Please what?” Oh he's a piece of shit. He knows what you want because he wants it too. He waits for a beat, enjoying your huffs of frustration. “Tell me and I'll do it.”

With the last of your sanity, you cry out, “fuck me buck ple—ah”

You slap a hand over your mouth as he spears into you, stretching you like he does time and time again. It never gets any easier with a size like Bucky’s; his tip kissing your cervix with each thrust and your walls sing at the almost painful stretch.

Bucky’s thrusts are delightfully slow, letting you feel each drag and push, each rigid vein on his pulsing cock. There is no fucking involved, he's making love, making sure you know that he would spend eternity wrapped up in your body no matter what size you are. The deep coloured marks along your neck and between your thighs would attest to that.

“Fuck” he moans, mouth gaping. “Don't think ill last long princess” His vibranium fingers fall to your soft belly, skating over the smooth skin to your full hip.

He squeezes hard enough to leave marks, “fucking mine.”

His thrusts speed up, his head snapping back and eyes rolling. His balls bounce rhythmically against your ass, the bulbous head of his cock smashing into the end of your cunt where a dull ache forms — a warning of future hurt when you wake tomorrow. You don't care, not when his free hand dips between you both, pulling back the hood of your sensitive nub and flicking it over and over.

He feels the way you tighten around him, holding him in a vice grip, “hold it princess, just a little longer come on”

“I can't Bucky please” you whimper in response.

“Yes, you can baby—oh fuck I'm close” his weight falls atop yours, smothering you in him. His hips stutter, his balls pulling up towards his body.

“Cum now, soak my big fucking dick.”

The slamming of the headboard ceases when his thrusts slow to shallow grinding, his mouth swallows any sounds you let out.

“Such a good fucking girl for me—shit” he sighs, slips from you with a hiss.

“Buck—”

“Shh pretty girl you're alright” he holds you close for a while, holding you tight to his broad body. Tears fall from your cheeks but he swipes them away. You don't know why you ever doubted Bucky, he's the only constant in your life.

“I love you” He whispers as the blood rushing in your ears settles, running through your veins in exhaustion.

“I love you too”

“Don't you ever listen to those idiots again, because I will show you over and over what you mean to me” Bucky promises with a kiss on the crown of your head.

You smile, laying your own lazy kiss over your thumping heart. You like the sound of that.

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[lymtw]

Toji who's a huge fan of the long socks and workout shorts combination on you. You don't only wear the outfit to workout. Sometimes, you wear it because it's as comfortable as pajamas but more casual to wear out than pajamas, and because you get impatient while waiting for Toji to come home, you can do anything in it. Cleaning, reading, watching TV, anything.

It's always the same scenario every time you wear the outfit. Toji ravages you—completely ruins you every time. He thought you would've caught on to his routine, by now, but there you were again, wearing those tiny red shorts. Your long white socks that reached just below your knees hugged your legs perfectly, two red stripes adorning the tops of them.

Toji sighs, shutting his eyes before bumping his forehead, lightly, into the doorframe a couple times. He's feral about the way you look, and you don't even realize it.

You gasp, a smile taking over your features at the sight of your man. "Baby!" you squeal, excitedly. You crawl towards the end of the bed, ready to leap into his arms like you usually do, but you only managed to make it to the center before he put a hand up, halting your movements. You sit back, your knees bent. "I didn't notice you were back, already. I... I missed you," you say, a softness in your tone that is attached to your concern for Toji's mood. Normally he looks at you with a boyish grin when you freak out about him being home, but he's looking at you so seriously this time. "Is everything okay?" You ask, as he ambles towards you, his eyes never leaving yours. "Toji, please, say something," you say, your heart starting to race with every step he takes.

He climbs onto the bed, crawling towards you. Silently, be grabs ahold of your ankle, lifting your foot towards his face so he can kiss it from your heel to the tips of your toes. You look at him while stifling a grin, wondering what's going through his mind for him to be acting this way. "That's nasty, Toji," you giggle, not making any sort of attempt to pull away your foot.

"Not as nasty as what I wanna do to you," he says, as he continues to run his kisses along your legs, his hands slowly moving up and down your shins and calves, before stopping where your socks end, an inch below your knees.

"These new?" Toji asks, tracing the red stripes on your right sock.

You nod, beaming with joy. "It came in a pack of five."

He hums, satisfied with the new information. There will be more of this in the future. "You needed every color, huh?" His lips continued their exploration, now feeling your soft thighs against them.

"There were other colors in a different pack, but I thought of you when I chose the pack that I got. It had a pair of socks with blue stripes, and I know you're fond of the color. So... yeah. That was my deciding factor." You laugh, a sound that makes Toji's lips twitch as he reaches your inner thighs.

"Always thinking of me, huh? Even when you're choosing socks." His green eyes focus on you as he continues to kiss your inner thighs, leaving behind a slightly painful memento.

"Kind of, yeah." You wince at the sharpness of his teeth sinking into your thigh for a quick second, before he laps and sucks on the indentation. "What, baby?" You look down at him with a slightly scrunched nose.

"There, there. Just leaving a little something behind on you." Toji's lips form a sly grin as you watch him, intently, even then, you didn't expect his next move. You gasp when he slides his face up between your legs, his sharp nose adding some pressure to the ache growing in your cunt. His tongue peeked out and followed the same path, leaving a damp stripe on the crotch area of your shorts. You shudder at how he doesn't stop there, your cunt throbbing when you feel his hands push up your shirt. He's kissing up your abdomen, starting beneath your bellybutton and ending at your sternum.

Your fingers run through his hair, eliciting a quiet groan from him with every gentle graze of your nails against his scalp. His hair is soft between your fingers and it messily spikes in whichever direction you brush it.

Toji pushes up the elastic band of your lacy bralette over your breasts, immediately burying his face between them. He was ruled by his obsessive desire for you in that moment, the heat of your soft skin against him minimally satiating the hunger he had for you. His mouth latched onto your right nipple while his hands roamed beneath your shorts, feeling up the backs of your thighs before giving your ass a squeeze.

"Baby..." you cooed, a sweet little grin on your lips as Toji rolled your nipple around his tongue. You could feel him subtly grinding his hard on against you, the act making your cunt pulse with need. There were shuddered breaths of desperation coming from him, his quiet groans muffled as he sucked on your nipples. You wrapped your legs around his waist, crossing your ankles on his lower back. You used your heels to nudge a little bit of his shirt up, his skin instantly warming the cotton material of your sock.

With a wet pop, he released your nipple and looked at you. In his eyes, you could see how much he wanted you, how badly he wanted to be inside you, already.

"You make my blood boil, you know that?" His face is inches away from yours. "It's like every time I come home with the pure intention of being soft and shit with you, you ruin it by making my dick hard."

You giggle, cupping his face. "I swear, I'm not even trying. I'm just here, waiting for you. Is this your way of saying you miss me?"

Toji chuckles. "What makes you say that?" He brings his hands out of from beneath your shorts, hooking his wrists around your hips to drag you even closer. Your legs readjust around his waist, your ankles locking in place again.

"Nothing in particular," you say, a saccharine tone decorating your voice. You have an inkling that he does miss you when he's gone for longer than intended. You feel more confident in your inkling when he comes home and the first thing he does is weigh your body down with his. This time was a good example.

"Maybe... I just wanna hear you say it." Your lips curl into an enticing smile. One that has Toji admiring how pretty your lips shine with that lipgloss you're wearing. "Just for me?" you whisper to him, tracing his jawline with your thumb.

Without hesitance, Toji responded to your want. "I missed you," he says, quietly, just to you, like you asked. His heart thumps rapidly as he takes in your reaction to the small confession. Your eyes were more brilliant than before, and you're smiling like a girl who's been told her crush likes her back.

"Yeah? Wanna say it again?" you ask, giddily. He looks you dead in the eyes, a deadpan expression lingering on his features. "Just one more time," you beg.

"Where are your manners, doll?" He cracked a grin at the way your body jolted slightly when his voice returned. "Haven't heard a single 'please' slip past those lips."

You giggle, your twinkling eyes apologizing for your rudeness. "Please, Toji," you plead, again, your voice light and airy.

Toji sighs, not having the heart to deny you when you look at him like that. He can physically feel how much you love him. "I missed you, my pretty girl," he repeats, kissing the column of your neck, lightly bruising you with his lips. "So fuckin' much, and I know you can tell."

"Mhm." You giggle as he drags his lips further across your neck, to the side of it

"You feel that?" He says lowly beneath your ear, dragging his clothed hardness between your legs. "You want it?"

"Mhm..." you hum, holding back a moan. "Yes, Toji."

"Good, 'cause i'm gonna give it to you. Gonna give it to you real good, mama," he purrs.

"Toji!" you shriek, kicking lightly at his back when he nibbles on your ear. He chuckles at the little goosebumps that appear on your waist, his rough hands attempting to smooth them down only to make more of them rise up.

"This little getup always gets you into trouble. Always wonder how you breathe when it fits so... tight. It's like another layer of skin, doll."

"I feel pretty in it," you murmur into his ear, your palms rubbing his shoulder blades.

"You are pretty in it. Look like a pretty little cheerleader."

"A cheerleader?" You laugh.

"Mhm, my own personal cheerleader. Always chanting my name, and wearing those pretty skirts and shorts. Those long, striped socks... mmm. Motivating me in the best way, baby."

He pulls back to remove his shirt. The sight of his sculpted muscles never failed to make your pussy wet, even when you've seen him completely naked so many times. You'll never get used to the godlike body beneath his clothes.

"You're staring, princess. What?"

You cover your eyes, a bitten back smile on your face. "Sorry, didn't know you were off limits to my eyes. Won't look at you again. Guess i'll just feel it when you're inside me."

"Aw, come on. I was kidding." He pries your hands off your eyes. "Watch me, and do the same."

You follow his lead and pull off your shirt, your bralette following shortly after. Toji waited for you to catch up to him, his eyes taking in the sight of your exposed upper body for a few seconds before working his pants off. You did the same, pulling down your shorts.

"Baby," you laugh, waiting for him to keep going. His hand goes to your stomach, rubbing your soft skin.

"Just getting a good look at you, doll." His eyes rake up and down your frame, before he clicks his tongue. "You're a real heartbreaker, you know that?"

"Yeah? Whose heart did I break?" You grin, just a little bit amused at the new information.

"Anybody who's ever seen you passing by. Even Shiu has spoken out about how be wants to pounce on you." You catch the way he rolls his eyes at the mention of someone else lusting over you. Someone he knows and works with frequently. "Man practically cries every time I leave work 'cause he knows you're home waiting for me, not him."

You giggle, gently grabbing Toji's hand off your stomach, moving your grip onto his wrist. "Shiu won't ever get to see me this way. All of this..." you splay his hand on your neck, dragging it down your chest, down your abdomen, before hooking his fingers into your underwear and pulling down as you guide his hand lower. "...is a secret between me and you."

Toji swallows the saliva that pools in his mouth, slipping his boxers off so fast.

You giggle at his inability to look away. "Want me to keep the socks on?"

"Whatever..." he says, mindlessly, entranced by your effortless ways of being sultry. He crawls back onto you, quickly revoking your privilege to have any personal space. "Shiu isn't the only one who will never see you like this. No one, but me, will ever see you like this." He cups your jaw, holding your already attentive focus. "Need to hear you say it, ma. I'm so serious, right now."

You pull his hand away from your jaw, bringing it to your mouth. Your tongue comes out to lick a line straight down the middle of his hand, from the bottom of his palm, to the tips of his middle and ring fingers. Your lips went down his hand, again, this time peppering kisses along the line you made with your tongue. "No one will ever see me the way you do. I just sealed my promise into your hand, so if you ever cheat on me, your hand is gonna split in half."

"That right?"

You nod, not a crack of a smile on your face, to show that you're just as serious.

"You're pretty powerful. What happens to all that power when you're under me? Like this."

"It's still there. Just... weakened."

"Yeah?" He says, softly, kissing along your jawline. "I'm your weakness?"

"Mhm," you mumble, relishing in the warmth of his hands as they work up and down your waist, occasionally squeezing.

"That's why we work. 'Cause you're strong enough to irreversibly punish me for committing adultery, but at the same time, you're debilitated by me."

Your breathing becomes a little more noticeable to Toji as he continues to nibble and suck on the skin of your jaw. He's working you up just by reminding you of how easy it would be to put you in your place.

You whimper as he runs his tip through your folds, the messy mixture of your and his arousal making it easy for him to glide through at a teasing pace.

"So soft, and all for me, huh?"

"Mhm..." you hum, sultrily. Your hands go to Toji's shoulders, waiting for the initial stretch of his cock when it prods into you.

Now was the time when Toji's nightly question would be answered. Would you cry or would you hold out when he put it in? Most of the time, you spared a couple tears for him, and Toji would always comfort you by making you giggle or praising you for how well you were doing. This time he was being carried by his possessive feelings. Not to say he wasn't going to comfort you, he just wouldn't be making you laugh.

His tip glided up and down at your entrance, further making you squirm beneath Toji. "Gonna need your eyes on me, mama. Just look at me," he says, still guiding his tip until you make eye contact. The tip nudges its way in, Toji's gaze not wavering from yours.

"Shh... you're fine," he coos at the sound of your whines when he starts thrusting, slowly. "You're okay, it's just the tip," he murmurs. "I know you want more than this, princess. We both know it takes more to satisfy you, huh?" You nod, frantically, in agreement. "Yeah? So, let's give you some more," he says, pushing in another couple inches of his length.

"Hey, eyes on me, look at me." His face is nose length away from yours. He can hear the short little breaths you release from the added inches inside you. Your nails dig into his shoulders, not hard enough to hurt, but enough for Toji to feel them. "Doll face... I'm working my way into you," he says quietly, like it's only meant for you to hear. Not even the walls were allowed to get in on this secret. "Know you can feel me pretty deep in there, already, but you know how selfish I am about you." He groans, the first sound of pleasure he didn't holding back. "Gonna take up more of you. Gonna be even deeper inside."

Toji was silently proud of you. No tears, so far, just little whimpers and breathy moans. "Always been so good... mmm... so fucking good to me, mama. What's another time, hm?" He purrs, kissing your face more erratically as he withheld himself from thrusting deeper before you were ready. "Gonna be good and let me destroy this pretty pussy?"

"Y-Yes, please, Toji," you whine, the ache in your cunt more prominent when he verbalizes what he wants to do to it.

"First you gotta take the whole thing. Still got a ways to go, mama."

"Faster, please, Toji. Put the rest in. I can take it."

His steady, comfortable pace is tested. He's tempted to ram the rest of his cock into you, and see those pretty eyes well up with tears from how deep he is.

"You sure?" He asks, to which you bite your lip and nod. He looked at you like you had just signed away your soul to him. His green eyes possessed so much lust behind them, but he still had it in him to hold back for one more question of security. "You would tell me if I was hurting you, right? 'Cause, you know, pretending isn't cool, ma."

"Shh... I want you so bad, Toji, it's not even funny. Like we've talked about before, I'll scream 'safe' at the top of my lungs if it doesn't feel right." You smile, caressing his cheek with your right hand. "You know, it's so hot when you take care of me."

He chuckles, leaning in to kiss you. The kiss grew lustful, immediately, egging on the fluidity of his hips against you. With every roll of his hips, he slipped more of his length into you, your wetness appearing further down his cock after every few thrusts. You could feel him driving deeper and deeper inside you, and it was intense. Your nails dragged along his skin, and you couldn't keep up with his kisses anymore, your whimpers sounding through the lock of your lips.

"Feel that? Feel me deep inside you?" Toji murmurs to you, holding your face in his hands. You felt suffocated by him—by his proximity. You felt smothered by his touch—by the hold he had on your jaw. If you moved more than an inch, your face would meet his. It made you feel dizzy, like every breath you took was stolen back by him. All of this to distract you from the rest of his cock being sheathed into you, swiftly, to get it over with.

"Fuck, it's all in, mama. Made it fit, again. We're clicked."

Your eyes are shut, light puffs of air leaving you, and a slight furrow in your brows at the tight feeling in your cunt. You're filled to the brim with Toji, and you can feel the effect it has on him with all the throbbing his cock does inside you. Making his dick fit inside you is something Toji always takes pride in. It shows how much you trust him with your body, and it proves his effort of trying to bring pleasure for not just him, but you as well. He knows it's hard to take his dick without feeling like you're being torn through, if you aren't prepared enough, so you letting him stuff you is a trust exercise every time.

"We're c-clicked?" You ask, slowly opening your eyes.

"That's right." Toji smirks, watching the way you test how far in he is by pushing your hips towards him. "Greedy girl, that's all of it."

"No- I didn't mean-" you groan, flustered by the resting cocky expression on Toji's face.

He pulls his hips back, pushing his cock back into you, quickly. "See? Clicked."

The act makes you gasp, unsettling your breathing.

"That reaction tells me everything, baby. Can't be greedy for more when you can barely handle what you have." His hips start thrusting into you as he grabs at your chest, his hands kneading your breasts. "You can beg for more dick when you can take mine without tearing up. 'Til then, you get me."

You pant, reaching out to grab some part of him, but failing. Instead you twist your claws into the sheets, pulling them into a messy clump in your fists.

You like when Toji fucks you this way. When he's facing you, you get to see his handsome face and the lust that goes into his movements. It does make you nervous, and your heart starts beating faster when he stares into your soul, but it makes your orgasms so much better knowing he's watching your every move.

Toji puts one of your legs over his shoulders, his thrusts picking up their pace as your moans get louder and needier. His hand holds your ankle steady so he can kiss along the red stripes of your socks.

"Fuck..." he hisses. "Fuck, mama, you're squeezing the hell out of me."

"T-Toji, Toji! A-Ah, fuck, Toji!" you moaned, feeling his merciless cock prod every inch of your insides. Your pussy fit around Toji's dick like a snug glove, pulsing and throbbing with short-lived vacancy every time he slid it out before ramming it back in. You could feel your slick start to trickle down from where you and Toji connected.

"Love when you say my name like that, princess. Let me hear you again," he says, grunting as he continues on the brutal pace of his hips. He spots the flush of embarrassment on your face as no sound but your restless breathing and beating hearts, fill the room. "Aw, don't be shy." He chuckles, breathlessly. "Tell me how much you love it, sweetheart. Who makes you feel like this, hm?" Toji knows that's his ticket to getting anything from you. Sweetheart. He slips in that sugary title of endearment, and suddenly you lose your will to deny him of anything.

To wind you up a little more, he thumbed at your clit, instantly spiking your pleasure. You jolted, letting out a choked moan while pushing your hips back into the mattress. "T-Toji..." you called, breathily. "Hold..." you swallowed, high pitched moans leaving you from the swirling pleasure you felt, "...hold on..."

"What? You gonna cum or something?" He teased, not letting up on your clit. "I dare you to cum," he said with dark lidded eyes, that narrowed their focus on your pleasure filled expression. He continued the stimulation, his thumb still rubbing at your buzzing clit while he thrusted into your velvety smooth cunt.

"Feels good, huh?" He asks, grunting as he brings you closer to the edge of your first orgasm. He slides in and out of you, rapidly, hitting all the vital spots within you that turn your body fluid as you cum around him. Your body becomes a wave, starting with the roll of your hips, chasing all the stimulation being given to you so you can ride out that incomparable feeling of sexual satisfaction. The wave then flows to your torso where your back arches off the mattress from all the pleasure coursing through you, before dying at your heaving chest as it rises and falls seemingly endlessly with every passion filled moan and cry you let out.

Toji groans as you pulse around him, clenching and unclenching with newborn sensitivity. It's an unwelcome feeling, one that has you whining for Toji to give you a second to come down, to which he complies. He gives your pussy a rest, but that doesn't stop him from feeling up the rest of your body. He works to stiffen your nipples again, brushing his fingertips lightly against the buds to see how quickly they rise and how puffy they can get. You squirm at the feeling, to which Toji chuckles.

His hands glide over your shoulders, following the slope of your neck, before gently cupping the sides of it. He can feel the bone in your neck beneath his thumbs as he lightly presses into it. Something about this level of control has his cock throbbing inside you, aching to get moving again.

"Toji?" You call, snapping him out of his little daydream.

"Oh, uh... shit, my bad," he mumbles, pulling his hands away. You grab his wrists and put his hands back, allowing him to place them around your neck again.

"Could've just said you wanted to play with my life. I'll let you do it. You know i'm open minded." You smile, too softly for what you're permitting Toji to do.

He wanted to start fucking into you again. The throbbing of his cock was already unbearable, but with the filthiness you just spewed out about letting him play with your life...? It was enough to test his resolve.

"Come on," you pant, as he starts thrusting into you again. "A little harder, daddy... Want you to make me feel lightheaded."

"Oh, fuck... you...," Toji almost moans as he thrusts into your warm, wet heat, again. "...you wanna die?" He groans, his hands twitching with the delicacy of your neck in them. He knew he wouldn't last long with this other side of you coming out to play. The way you mindlessly say the things he never expects, it kills him.

You squeak at the feeling of Toji dragging his hand down to your chest. He roughly paws at your boobs with one hand while the other takes over the entirety of you neck. You giggled, your clouded mind brimming with lustful thoughts. "Anything to make you cum, baby... You choose to not let me walk sometimes, so why not cut my oxygen for a couple seconds?"

Toji's hand was a little heavier on your neck now. Your heart started going into overdrive, your jaw hanging as you let out labored breaths that merged into sweet moans.

"Freak." Toji muttered, panting as he neared his peak.

You scoff. "Acting like you didn't turn me into this." You giggle, gently running your nails down his arms.

He breathes out a chuckle. "Gonna make me cum, mama."

"Already?" You whine, rolling your hips into him in assistance.

"You..." he groans, moving his hands down to your hips so he can pull you into his thrusts. "You can't say that when you came first."

"Joking, joking... Wanna cum on my tits? Think of it as..." you gasp sharply, feeling warm fluid shoot into you.

"Fuck, oh fuck..." Toji groans, heavy breaths released into the air as he rutted short but rapid thrusts into your squelching cunt. He managed to bring you to another orgasm with those rapid little thrusts. Sweat beaded down his temples and dripped down his neck as he found himself just grinding into you, no longer thrusting. Your heart was beating wildly in your chest and in your ears, your moans harmonizing with Toji's as you both stilled in each other's vice-like grip. His hands returned to the sides of your neck, and he got to focus on the effect it had on you, your cunt fluttering around him. You held onto him by dragging your nails across his wrists and digging your heels into his back. You could feel Toji's cum leaking out through whatever sliver of space he left in you. It drooled down your ass and onto the sheets.

You both stared at each other with looks of utter infatuation, no words exchanged, just heavy breathing as you tried to come down from the feeling of mutually delivered ecstasy. Toji wanted to kiss you, you wanted to hold him close, and as if you could communicate telepathically with each other, you got both in one. He laid down on you and pressed kisses all around your lips before finally centering his lips on yours. Your arms wrapped around his neck, and your hands trailed up to comb through his sweaty locks. Your legs wrapped around his waist, and he kept his hands on your thighs to pin them there.

Toji went flaccid inside you from how long you spent kissing and whispering love drunk nothings to each other. You decided to get cleaned up by taking a bath together. Normally, Toji was more of a shower kind of guy, but you made him reconsider with the promise of soapy boobs.

"You're an animal, baby. A pair of striped socks, some shorts and a t-shirt gets you going?"

Toji chuckles, leaning back against the edge of the tub. "What do you want me to say? It's a you thing."

You giggle at the little squeeze he offers your waist beneath the bubbles that submerged you and him.

"Really, ma. You could be wearing one of those inflatable dinosaur costumes and i'd still wanna fuck you." He leans in close, his lips right against your ear. "But... wear those new blue, striped long socks, put on some blue skin tight shorts, one of those t-shirts, and a little bow in your hair... around me?" He sighs, the light breath grazing the shell of your ear. "I'll make sure you have to depend on me to get around the house for days."

[hoshifighting]

hii would you write something like edging jun or not letting him cum for no nut november?? 🙏

edging jun on NNN [no nut november]

WARNINGS: smut, handjob, edging, orgasm denial, teasing.

it’s no nut november, and jun’s the type of dude who takes shit like that way too seriously. like, you had to watch him solemnly promise to himself: “not even gonna look at her thighs 😤✋.” like you’re just her now?

so, naturally, your mission is to ruin him.

“baby, can you please move over?” his voice comes out tight, like he’s already choking on the effort.

you don’t move. you’re perched on his lap, all warm and smug in your oversized hoodie and, yeah, nothing else. your thighs are spread just enough to make him see, and that stupid pair of grey sweatpants is doing zero to hide how badly he’s losing this challenge.

“what, am i heavy or somethin’?” you blink at him all innocent, dragging your hips juuust slightly like you’re adjusting your seat.

jun practically whimpers. it’s pathetic.

“no! you’re not heavy—fuck—can you just—ugh—” he cuts himself off with a hiss, hands clenching the couch cushion instead of your hips.

you lean closer, letting your lips brush against his ear. “you’re so tense, babe. wanna help you relax.” your voice is dripping with false sugariness, and you swear you feel him tremble under you.

“you’re the opposite of relaxing,” he mutters, glaring up at you with that stupid flushed face of his. you tilt your head, pretending to think about it.

“hmm, okay. maybe this’ll help.”

your hands slide under his hoodie, and his skin is burning. fingers dance along his abs, light and teasing, while you let your nails scrape just enough to make him squirm. you watch his jaw tighten, his breathing get shakier, and it’s the best high you’ve ever felt.

“you’re—fucking—evil,” he grits out, squeezing his eyes shut like not looking at you will help. it doesn’t.

“evil? me?” you giggle, running your hands higher until your thumbs brush his nipples. that gets a reaction—his hips jerk up without control, and you bite back a grin when you feel him twitch against your thigh.

“okay, okay, stop,” he pants as he shakes his head. “i can’t—y/n, seriously—”

but there’s no seriously here, not when you’re having this much fun. your lips find his neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses that are just shy of biting. he’s trying so hard to keep his hands to himself, but when you drag your teeth along his jaw, they shoot up to grab your hips.

“thought you were stronger than this, not even a week in and you’re falling apart?”

“y/n, please.”

“please what?” you ask, feigning confusion while your fingers toy with the waistband of his sweats. “you’re gonna have to be more specific, baby.”

“you—fuck—” he’s so flustered, it’s adorable. “you know exactly what—shit—i hate you.”

you grin, lips brushing against his skin again. “love you too, babe.” your grin stretches wider when you slip a hand under his waistband, fingers curling around him. he gasps as your thumb brushes over the wet tip of his cock.

“oh, babe,” you coo, voice dripping sweett as you tighten your grip just enough to make him buck up into your palm. “look at you. you’re so sensitive.”

“y/n—oh my god—” his voice cracks like he’s on the verge of tears. his hands are gripping your thighs now. you’re too busy watching his face—his furrowed brows, the eyes rolling back,, the way his lips part with every shaky breath.

“why’re you doing this to yourself, hm?” your voice is soft, teasing, like you’re genuinely curious. “you could just—oh, i don’t know—lose.”

“no,” he chokes out immediately, shaking his head. “i’m not—i’m not fucking losing—”

you hum, pretending to consider his words, and your hand starts to move—slow and wet strokes that have him arching off the couch. “really? ‘cause from where i’m sitting, you look real close to giving up.”

his cock twitches in your grip, a bead of precum sliding down to coat your fingers. you look down at it, letting out a soft gasp like it’s the most fascinating thing you’ve ever seen.

“oh, babe, you’re dripping,” you murmur, spreading the slickness with your thumb. he follows your gaze, his breath catching as he watches you pump him. “you’re such a mess,” you add. “so wet for me.”

“y/n, please—” his voice is breaking, ragged and desperate. his hips are moving on their own now, thrusting up into your hand like he’s completely lost control.

“shh,” you whisper, leaning down to press a kiss to his temple. “let me help you, yeah?”

you speed up just enough to send him stupid, his moans getting louder. you feel him start to tense under you, and you know he’s close—so, naturally, you stop.

“wha—no—no, no, no—” he’s practically begging, his hips still jerking like he’s trying to chase the feeling. “why did you—fuck—why did you stop?”

you shrug, pulling your hand away completely and licking the slick off your fingers. “thought you didn’t wanna lose, babe. i’m just helping.”

“you’re insane,” he groans, throwing his head back against the couch.

“yeah, probably,” you agree, climbing off his lap like you’re totally unaffected by all of this.

he’s panting, trembling, but he still tries to glare at you. “this is—this is actual torture—”

“relax, babe,” you tease, flopping down next to him and running a hand through his sweat-damp hair. “you’ll thank me later.”

but, of course, you’re not done.

not even five minutes later, your hand is back in his sweats, stroking him again like you can’t help yourself. his cock is still so hard, the head flushed and angry-looking, and his body jerks like he’s aching for relief.

“you’re so cute like this,” you whisper honey-sweet. “all desperate and needy. you sure you’re gonna make it through the whole month?”

he tries to answer, but all that comes out is a choked whimper as you tighten your grip and drag your thumb over his slit.

“poor baby,” you coo, leaning in to kiss the corner of his mouth. “bet you wanna cum so bad, huh?”

“yes,” he breathes, the word falling from his lips before he can stop it. his eyes widen like he’s just betrayed himself, but you’re too busy grinning like the cat that caught the canary.

“aww,” you mock, your strokes slowing again. “but you can’t, can you? gotta stay strong for the boys.”

the boys? yeah, the boys. it all started with an almost common sense between them. you cant help but hate them for a little bit.

he groans, his hands gripping your wrists like he’s trying to make you move faster. but you don’t let him. instead, you pull away again, leaving him trembling and gasping like he’s about to scream.

“you’re so mean!” he whines broken.

“and you’re soooo stubborn.” you shoot back, pressing one last kiss to his cheek before settling back into the couch like nothing happened.

[unorthodoxfaithxx]

Independence - (Yandere KaijuNo8 Hoshina x Reader)

nsfw, dubcon, yandere, afab, explicit sex, possessiveness, overstimulation

Where Hoshina has enough of your “independence” antics. 

———————////////———————-//////—————

The quick, rough clacks of heels stomping the ground permeate the otherwise quiet night. You can hear the soft thuds of dance music beating from a distance from the club you were just brought out of. 

“Ow, ow, ow,” You yelp, “That hurts! Let go, will you?”

The man pulling on your hand doesn’t let go, though his grip loosens. 

You groan, frustrated at the chain of the events that just occurred. You were at the club with your girls, mingling it up, when your childhood friend barged in and dragged you out, JUST as you were getting friendly with a man who was exactly your type. 

The cockblocking pisses you off. “Seriously, Soshiro, what’s gotten into you?”

He lets go of your hand, whipping around to face you. 

“What’s gotten inta me? What’s gotten inta you? I’m gone on a mission for a month and then come back to see you hangin’ out with girls you barely know, gettin’ friendly with nasty dudes, at a trashy ass club in the most dangerous part o’ the city!”

“I’m a grown woman, Soshiro. I can do what I want. And I was perfectly safe in there.” 

He ignores your words, pulling at your hand again. “Come on, we’re goin’ home.” You can tell he means business by the tone of his voice. There’s no point in arguing when he gets like this. Sighing, you follow him quietly into the car he had ready. 

Hoshina lets a random radio station play while he drives. The ride home to your apartment is otherwise silent. 

Watching the lights of the city get farther and farther away, you grind your teeth in annoyance. He’s always been like this since you were little. Overly protective and clingy, ESPECIALLY when it came to men trying to get to know you. Growing up, he was always threatening your crushes, getting between you and boys offering their love confessions,  even keeping you away from his sport competitions during highschool. 

“I don’t like the way my teammates look at ya,” He’d say, “It gets in the way of our game.”

Sure, you may have been frail as a kid and that warranted some protecting, but the both of you are now grown, and he still hasn’t let up on his “big brother” antics. It was ruining your love life, and tonight you were going to chew him out once and for all. 

You huff in annoyance, not noticing the way Soshiro practically glares at the cleavage your tight dress reveals through the corner of his eye. 

You two eventually make it home, and you fumble for your keys to open the door. You see Hoshina looking over his shoulder, scanning for any potential threats, and you roll your eyes. Once you unlock the door, you usher you in, and he shuts and locks the door behind him with a ‘click’. 

You throw your purse on the dining table, waltzing over to the fridge to grab a water bottle in hopes you can cool down. Because right now, you want nothing more than to shove Hoshina down a set of stairs.

After taking a sip, you sigh and turn to Hoshina, who has been standing in the living room with his arms crossed, displeased. 

“Soshiro, we need to talk. I’m not a defenseless kid anymore, you can’t keep controlling what I can do or who I can see.” 

“Oh?” He raises a brow, a small pout still on his face. 

“‘Oh’, yes. I’m a grown woman. And I’m tired of you being a cockblock every time I meet a man who seems even remotely interested in me. We’re still in our twenties! I wanna go meet people and have fun before it’s too late. And to be frank? You going on that Defense Force mission for a month has been great for my social life. I’ve been able to hang out with other friends, go on like 2 dates, and just feel free for once.” 

Your expression softens when you see he’s obviously hurt by your words, “I don’t mean to be hurtful, ugh! I just…I want you to understand, I need to live my life.”

Your friend is silent for a minute, and before you can start to get nervous, he says quietly, “I understand.”

“You do?” You perk up, relieved to have finally had this talk with him. 

“Oh yeah, I understand alright.” You don’t like the way he says that. 

He makes way to where you stand, in slow, purposeful steps.

“While I been risking my life to protect this country, you been hoein’ around, is that it?” Hoshina antagonizes, taking a few steps closer as you back pedal. He stops once you’re chest to chest, your back hitting the kitchen walls with a soft thump.

“Really? That’s what you got outta that? You idiot, that’s not it at all, I—“

“Enough with the excuses.” Hand smacking the wall beside your head, he leans down, whispering in your ear. “I think it’s high time you realize who ya belong to.”

He grabs your chin, tilting your face upwards for a searing kiss, your lips colliding. The young man’s warm tongue snakes into your mouth to explore its walls, and you’re so taken aback that you just let him, the sensation leaving your legs feeling a little unsteady.

He takes advantage of your surprise, slinging you over his shoulder with ease, and speed walks to your room. 

Once the two of you reach the door, he swings it open and throws you on the mattress with a “thud”.

“Soshiro, what the fuck!”

“You wanna get with a guy so bad? Fine. But it’s won’t be anyone else ‘sides me.”

He crawls on top of you, planting both hands beside your head as he towers over your form. You gaze up at him, astonished at his words.

“Wait, wait wait — This is all so sudden, I—you—what?”

He growls in frustration, nipping at your neck. The deep rumble of his voice and the sensation of him marking you surprisingly stirs something up in your core. 

“Did ya really never notice how bad I wanted ya since we were teenagers? All this time I been keepin’ you away from anyone else ‘cause I thought you were mine, an’ I wanted ya to stay mine. But here we are, with you thinkin’ just ‘cause you’re grown up that ya can up an’ leave me behind.” You don’t notice until it’s halfway down, but Hoshina is unzipping the side of your strapless dress. 

“Well I got a news flash for ya, sweetheart— 

it ain’t gonna fuckin’ happen like that.” Once he finishes tinkering with the zipper, he pulls your dress off your body, revealing nothing but silicone nipple covers and lace panties too thin to be practical. 

“Who the hell were ya gonna show these off to, huh?” He removes the tiny nipple covers, pushing them off to the side of the bed. 

“N-no one…”

“Liar,” Your childhood friend is not gentle with your panties. He yanks them off you with a harsh snap of its strings. “No one can see you like this but me.”

He eyes your naked body hungrily, but you can tell he’s not happy. Only now do you understand that it’s not because he’s been worried for you—he’s mad because it’s not him you’re dressing scantily for. 

“Fuck…you’re gorgeous. I’m gonna show ya who this body was made for.”

The soldier places a cold hand on your bare pussy, slowly stroking your slit, pulling the folds open and closed in a way that has you choking back a moan. 

In no time, your opening grows moist. Hoshina smiles coyly when notices his fingers are coated with your juices. “Already so wet for me, ain’tcha? 

The pace of his strokes eventually picks up, and when he opts instead to rub your clit in a circular motion, you can no longer hold back your voice. 

You want to deny it, but it feels good. Really good. The feeling of his touch clouds your mind, and logic is thrown out the window. As unwise as it may be, and as weird as it is to be doing this with your life-long friend, your body convinces you it’ll be fine to let whatever happen, happen. 

He smirks at your reaction, pleased to see you release the tension in your body, relaxing under his touch. “That’s it, sweet. Lemme hear more of those pretty moans.”

And let him you do. He rubs your clit at an unyielding pace, and when you start squirming involuntarily, one of his sinewy 

arms clamps down on your thigh, holding it in place. 

“Ah, ah, ah. No closing your legs,” He chides.

“F-fuck, but I’m-ah-gonna come!”

You can feel yourself reach the tipping point, mind going blank. You look your friend in the eyes, and the way that he stares at you so reverently, intensely, is what makes you reach that edge. 

“Come for me then, baby.” That was the only encouragement you need, because that has  you climaxing with rushing vigor, cunt spasming and pulsing in waves. Tears of pleasure begin to emerge at the corners of your eyes, and you breathe a sigh of contentment. 

Happy with himself, the young man barrels his mouth into yours, refusing to separate until the both of you are gasping for air. You use a hand to tug at his hair hoping it’ll make him pull back, but he doesn’t relent, instead grunting a moan. Only when you start pushing on his chest does he separate from you. 

“Sorry,” He barely sounds sorry, you think, “Ya just taste so damn good.”

With a trail of saliva dripping from his mouth and yours, he moves down to latch onto one of your breasts. 

A warm appendage flicks across your nipple, shooting pleasure down into your core. You didn’t know your tits could ever feel this good. When he proceeds to bite and suckle, you’re washed with a sensation that has you swearing you feel yourself melting away. 

Hoshina laps at your other hardened areola, teasing the former with the pinch of his fingers. 

But then a thought crosses his mind. “Ya haven’t done this with anyone else before, right?” He mumbles, face nestled between your breasts. 

You don’t answer, and he stops what he’s doing, much to your body’s chagrin.

He removes himself from your chest. His hand squeezes your other breast a little tightly, and when he looms over you, he’s dripping with malice. “Right?” 

“Ugh,” You’re embarrassed to admit it, refusing to look him in the eye, “Right. I-I’ve never done anything with anyone before.” 

And you aren’t lying. Hoshina’s always done a damn good job at keeping all potential lovers at bay. You’ve never even kissed another man before. 

That settles his nerves. “Good girl.” He kisses your collarbone. 

“If you did, I woulda made you confess which fella it was with and kill him.” He says that so nonchalantly, you worry it’s true. “You don’t belong to anyone but me, got it, sweet thing? You’re mine.”

The possessiveness should scare you, but it doesn’t. In fact, his claims spur on your arousal. When one of his hands warningly wraps around your throat, a shiver runs down your spine. “Say it,” He demands with a dangerous glint in his eyes, “You’re mine.” 

“I-I’m yours, Shiro.” As he hears you call him by that stupidly intimate childhood nickname, he feels his cock ache. 

“That’s a good gal.” He releases his grip on you, moving to take off his clothes. “I missed you so much during my mission, ya know that? Stayed up late thinkin’ of ya.” 

He unzips and removes his jacket. 

“Yeah?” You inquire, not sure where he’s going with this conversation. 

“Yeah. Stayed up thinkin’ ‘bout how good you’d feel under me. Thought about my cock deep inside ya, right. Here.” He places a hand below your belly button, pressing deep. “Remembered how sexy you looked in that tiny ass swimsuit last summer, and wished I was back at the beach with you again, this time fucking you stupid. Thought about how good you’d sound moaning my name while your tight cunt milks me dry, and that everyone around would know who it is you belong to.”

Fuck, since when was your friend so good with dirty talk? You’ve never heard him so vulgar in your life. The thought of being wanted so badly makes your heart ache, and you feel yourself turning red. 

“Daww,” Hoshina coos, “Is someone blushing?” He licks his lips, eyeing you like a tiger would eye a plump rabbit, and you gulp. “Fuck, that’s cute. You’re adorable.”

With his clothes fully removed and tossed to the side, you take in the sight of his body. He’s not a giant of a man, although toned muscles decorate his limbs in a way that make him look bigger than you’d expect. 

You don’t want to admit it, but he’s quite the looker. What you’re most concerned with though is how large his member is. It’s hard, veiny and obviously protruding. You gulp nervously, suddenly self conscious of your lack of love-making experience.

Before you can overthink things, the soldier takes the lead. He gives his shaft a stroke and moves your hand to wrap around his dick, getting you to stroke him in a slow, easy motion. 

You see his body tremble under your touch, and he lets out a deep sigh, like he’s relieved after holding back for so long. 

“Fuuuuuck, yer hands feel so soft. Just like I always imagined.”

You stroke his thick member a few more times, admiring how sensitive his body was under your touch. 

“Good girl. Just like that baby, yeah. Fuck, you make it hard to hold back.”

The praises do something to you, and you find yourself eager to hear more from him. 

But just as quick as Soshiro was to praise you, he was quick to flip you onto all fours, and with a yelp your eyes stare at nothing but the bedpost. 

You don’t even have time to realize what’s going on when you feel Hoshina’s thick head invade your wet hole, stuffing you full as you feel the pressure inside your body build. 

“Oh gawwwwwd,” You moan, never having felt such a sensation before. 

It’s so overwhelming, taking you by surprise—you immediately crawl forward to move away, only to be aggressively held by the hips and yanked back into your starting position.

“Don’t you dare fucking run away,” The soldier warns dangerously, “I’m gonna fuck you ‘til you can’t think about anythin’ else but my cock.”

And fuck you he does. His pace is merciless, thick member pounding in and out of your pussy until your legs are a quivering mess. Your senses are heightened, drool spilling from the corner of your mouth as you feel every veiny inch of his cock stuff you completely. It’s too fucking much.

“Too much, Shiro,” You beg with a sob, “I need a minute.”

“You’ll take all that I give ya, when I give it to ya.” And you yelp as he plants a slap on your asscheek.

“Fuck. The way that ass bounces from my dick is so hot.”

A finger slips into your asshole, gently sliding in and out. If it was overstimulating before, now it’s too much all at once. 

“Please,” You plead in between moans. “It’s so much, Shiro. Gawd, I- I can’t!”

“Oh yes you can,” He admonishes, “And you will.” 

Another hard slap lands on your ass. “Apologize for trying to abandon me.”

Your mind and body now fully under the influence of lust, you do whatever he tells you. 

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry for abandoning you!”

“You like it in both holes, don’tcha? Slut.”

“Yes yes yes, I like it in both holes! It feels so good being stuffed in both holes!”

“And who do you belong to?”

“You, Shiro! Just you!”

His chuckling is low and deep, sending waves of pleasure down your spine. 

“Good girl. My good fucking girl.”

He lurches forward, and your arms and legs give out from underneath you. Laying flat on your stomach, Soshiro’s weight keeps you from moving even an inch. In this position, with him on top of you as he grips your breasts, your friend’s cock buries in you even deeper than before. He humps into you without remorse, and once he moves a hand to your mouth, you instinctively suckle on his fingers.

He moans at the sensation, groaning under your touch. The perversion of the whole scenario drives him wild.

“Fuck, did I tell you yer really tight?” He says through gritted teeth. “Can’t keep this up much longer.”

Now it’s your turn to tell him what to do. 

“Cum for me, Shiro. I need you to cum!”

He laughs at your audacity, gripping you tighter. 

“Oh yeah?” He grunts with a smirk, hot breath against your ear. “And where does my girly want me to cum, huh?”

It’s risky, but fuck it. You’re so horny you can barely think straight. “I-inside me!”

Your request gets him going, making him thrust even faster, harder than you thought was possible. 

“Fuck, girly, gonna cum!”

The feeling of his cum filling you up also is your tipping point, and you cry out as your final orgasm is ripped out of you. 

“Shiiiiiiit,” Soshiro whimpers, slowing his piston-ing down until your pussy finally milks every last drop of semen from him.

He slowly pulls out, and you feel suddenly empty once his dick is no longer inside you. 

With a quick flip, he’s on his back, arms spread out, staring at the ceiling with much thought. 

You roll over to look at him.

“So,” You break the silence, “Does that, uh, I should consider you my boyfriend now?”

He gives you a look.

“Depends. You wanna be kidnapped and locked inside a basement against yer will?”

“Uh, no?”

“Then yes, we’re datin’ now.” 

“Oh! Uh. Okay.”

—-////——//////————

That concludes my fanfic, folks! Sorry it took so long to make. I was struggling a lot with writer’s block and some life events that were outside of my control, but I’m here! And alive!

Honestly, what made me finish this story was seeing that the yandere tag on Tumblr was lackin’ in writing as of late, heheh. Anyways thanks for stopping by! Until next time!

[sukirichi]

𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐒. Zayne blamed it on that cursed hippocratic oath that always made him come to your beck and call. But one look at your smiling — although bloodied — face, he realizes he doesn’t mind being your personal doctor. 

𐙚 — Doctor! Zayne x Gangster! Reader

𐙚 — NSFW, MINORS DNI. public sex, dirty talk, oral sex (male receiving), descriptive smut, explicit sex, curse words, deep throating, unprotected sex, sleepy morning sex, fluff, smut, fucking while the reader is recovering from an injury, unrealistic ending LMAO, minimal angst, violence, attempted murder. 13k WC

𐙚 — this is my first lads work please do not judge me AGHSJKA. divider from @/cafekitsune

You’d been in this state before.

It wasn’t anything new, really, and yet the pain never got any more bearable. Each shot always felt like the first one, and you clenched your teeth hard to keep yourself from passing out in the hallway. It was dark, thanks to the old lights that flickered on and off, and you were sure that if someone saw you in this state, they would probably run away. You can’t blame them, because you were pretty banged up.

Heaving a deep breath from your lungs, you leant against the wall, careful not to leave any bloodstains as ragged breaths escaped your mouth. You shuddered from the pain. Your hand was already clutching your wounded shoulder, putting pressure to stabilize the blood oozing out from the wound while your other arm was wrapped around your waist where two bullets had perfectly been shot at you. Your vision had started to become blurry by now, and your knees were growing weaker with each passing second, but his door was just there. Just a few more steps until you found the comfort you so desperately sought out.

With a groan, you pushed yourself away from the wall and wobbled to his front door, letting out a whimper when you realized he kept the door locked. Of course. Plucking out a few hairpins from the back of your head, you twisted it into his doorknob before sighing in relief as the lock opened with a click. You fell almost face first to the floor, your weight becoming harder and harder for you to carry until your legs finally gave in, and you fell on the ground with a loud ‘thud.’ You whimpered in pain, chest heaving up and down in discomfort as your shaking fingers pried the material of your tank top away from the wound. Frowning when you saw the white cotton had been stained completely red.

“Who’s there?” A soft voice asked just as the lights flickered open, making you wince in your spot. “Oh, God. Are you okay?”

He scurried to your almost passed out form, his dark hair coming into view as his huge eyes stared back at you. You noticed his hands were hanging awkwardly in the air as if unsure to touch you, and you felt a little bad when you saw he was still in his doctor’s coat. He had probably just gotten home after a hellish shift at the hospital, and you ruined the little amount of sleep he allowed himself to have.

You forced a smile on your face as your hands reached up to brush the hair away from his eyes, the action leaving a blood stain on its way. “Hey, sweetheart. Did you miss me?”

“You’re seriously crazy,” was all he said before his strong arms wrapped around you securely, making you groan as he scooped you up, your head lolling into his chest before you curled yourself into a ball. You felt the warmth of his leather couch hitting your bare legs, thanks to your ripped denim shorts before he disappeared from your side. A sound of several medical equipment clanked through the tense silence, and soon enough Zayne appeared in your line of sight once more. His hand gently helped you to prop your head on the pillow, a frown painting his soft features as the sound of medical gloves stretching hit your ears.

He didn’t look too happy.

“Two months. You’ve been gone for two months without even a phone call or a simple text to tell me how you’re doing, and now you come back all beaten up?” He shook his head, passing you a bottle of alcohol and a towel to bite on before lifting your shirt up. “You’re seriously going to be the death of me.”

Well, you knew you weren’t exactly deserving of a warm welcome, but that didn’t stop you from feeling bad anyway.

Zayne sighed, showing you what seemed to be sterilized medical tweezers and a kidney shaped looking metal bin placed on the coffee table. “This is gonna hurt. I don’t have anesthetics.”

“Just get it over with.”

He nodded, although a look of hesitation crossed him before he peeled your shirt away from your skin. A pained and hesitant grimace was sent your way as he assessed the damage, and you assured him you’d be fine. This wasn’t the first time he’d taken care of your injuries, but that didn’t make it less painful for the both of you. For you, it was just physical torture all throughout, and your eyes seared with hot tears that threatened to fall as you remembered your most recent stab wound. Zayne had been the one to take care of it as well, and you felt a little guilty that the only times – well, most of the times, anyway – that you spent at his apartment consisted of him tending to your wounds. And fucking. Lots of fucking.

Now that you thought about it, it’s been too long since you saw Zayne, and the sight of him biting his lip in concentration as he pulled the bullets out was enough to turn you on.

Dark bags were under his eyes, eyes lidded heavily and his little button nose scrunched up a little at the stench of blood. In your own dazed haze of admiring his beauty and all his little quirks you’ve learned through two years of knowing him, you momentarily forgot the heated pain you were in through until he counted down from one to three. He pulled the bullet out, making you bite down on the towel placed in between your teeth.

“I know, I’m sorry. Just one more and we’re good.” He cooed, his soothing voice contrasting well with the pained whimpers that left your throat. While he was busy placing the bullet onto the metal bin, you spat out the towel and drank the beer in one go, feeling the burn of it sting your throat. Zayne was looking at you worriedly, but you nodded at him encouragingly to keep going. 

“I’ll be fine.” You dismissed with a wave of your hand.

You were propped up on your elbows as he sighed for what seemed like the hundredth time of that night. His hands were cool against your heated skin, eyes locked on yours as his fingers moved to slide the straps of your tank top down ever so slowly that made you hitch your breath. He’d just finished with taking out the bullets from your waist, and now he was staring intently at the blood that flowed from your collarbones to the swell of your breasts. You swallowed.

His fingers – those same fingers that had the skill of fucking you into another realm and saving lives of people – worked skillfully into plucking the bullet out. Zayne’s other hand was placed on your good arm gently for leverage while his minty breath fanned against your face. You shuddered as you realized you were caged inside his arms. His face was so close to yours that you were sure you could count his eyelashes.

You trailed your gaze lower from his eyes to his thin lips, the ones that you learned kissed softly and passionately in contrast to how rough he was in bed, and only then did you realize how much you’d missed him.

“I love it when you’re on top of me.” You purred, a strangled and yet erotic moan leaving your lips as he successfully took the bullet out. 

Zayne coughed.

“You are shameless,” He murmured with a shake of his head, feeling incredulous as he patched bandages on your wound. You stared at him with a smirk on your face. “You barge in at what, two in the morning, all beaten up and you flirt with me? Didn’t anyone tell you not to distract a professional from his duties?” 

“Can you blame me when you look so fucking hot when you’re concentrated?” You whispered huskily, your lips brushing against the shell of his ear before you pulled away. He was staring at you wide eyed, “Consider it as payment since you’ve been inside me so many times.” 

Zayne was now blushing madly as he leaned away to get more bandages from his first aid kit. “Oh my god – are you serious? That isn’t the same... You know what, just keep your mouth shut. Let me do what I need to do. You’re being way too weird right now.” 

You grinned, making sure he saw how much of a teasing shit you were. “I know, and you love me anyway.”

Your deal had gone perfectly well that Jenna had rewarded you handsomely. The weight you’ve been carrying for days had now been lifted off, and you were finally free from the anxiety of fucking it up. It wasn’t your first deal per se, but it was perhaps the most critical assignment she’d ever sent you on. You remembered not being able to sleep for days as you calculated the ins and outs of it. Although Jenna had assured you all you needed to do was trade the goods with them at the port and it was all over, the worry hadn’t eased one bit. Sylus was infamous for leading a drug cartel after he killed his own father to precede him, so it was only natural you felt scared you would meet the man himself. Alone.

But… he was actually alright. He went straight to business and didn’t dilly dally further, and once he was sure your goods were fresh and genuine, he gave the promised money and left without a word. You came back to Jenna with a satisfied smirk, and now you were on your way to this bar that seemed a little too vanilla for your liking. The blinking light of the bar sign was red and neon, and you scoffed as it read Pleasure Cave. 

Seriously?

This looked more like a brothel than a bar, and you eyed the girls in skimpy outfits and blood red lipsticks waiting in line with distaste present on your face. No wonder Nero recommended this place. He was never after the drinks, he was after the girls. Well, you couldn’t blame him. Living in shabby apartments and doing underground work wasn’t entirely fancy, plus being a full time gang member didn��t allow him to spend as much time with girls as he would like. Well, whatever, you were here for the drinks. 

Now that the deal was done and over with, you were going to get absolutely wasted. 

Passing by the hundred people waiting in line, you smiled cheekily as the six foot tall and perhaps three hundred pounds of steroid bouncer glowered at you. “Get in line, sweet cheeks.”

“I don’t think I need to.” Pulling down your shirt a little to reveal the tattoo on your collar bones, the bouncer glared at it before he stood back up with recognition. He said something through the crackled intercom of his walkie talkie. There was a pause, then the doors opened with a heavy creak, the thumping bass of the loud music inside faintly heard. Now that worked well. You grinned wider, stepping on your tippy toes to press a sloppy kiss on his cheeks. “Thank you, angel.”

“Anytime, Ma’am.”

You stepped inside, feeling the cold breeze of the air conditioner nipping at your skin, and you were in a state of elation. Releasing a sigh, you maneuvered through the crowd and plopped on the bar stool, smiling confidently at the bartender before ordering something strong. He merely glanced at your smoky eyes that were lined with kohl, and you winked at him before chewing your gum obnoxiously. Sliding down several shot glasses your way, you sent him an impressed look – he knew you’d be here for quite a long time.

And oh, a long time it was. Seven shots later, the bartender sighed when you raised a finger to signal one more shot, and that’s when he came. It was probably because you were intoxicated and desperate to release some stress, but whatever the reason, you didn’t regret any of the decisions you made that night. 

The first thing you noticed about him was his smell. The faint aroma of rubbing alcohol mixed with a masculine scent was enough to make you turn your head, and you downed your shot in one go as you watched the stranger order something fancy. Huh. The raven haired man was dressed to the nines; a baby blue shirt tucked underneath a pair of tight fitting black pants that you were sure groped his ass. You raised a brow at the mere sight of his slender waist that had you ordering two more shots. You noticed his hands first – long and beautiful – and the image of him choking you as he fucked you from behind made you scoot closer to him. 

“Hey.”

Surprised, he jumped from his seat and spilled some of his drink to his pants accidentally, his crotch now wet and sticking to his skin. You raised your brows as you noticed the large bulge. He wasn’t even aroused yet. 

“I’m sorry,” you said, although you weren’t sorry at all. Pulling out the handkerchief from your pocket, you made sure you looked at him under your lashes while you patted down his groin. The man’s eyes widened at the action, but he didn’t pull you away. He swallowed rather audibly, his hands coming up to circle at your wrist. You noticed the tips of his ears had gone red, and you felt a smirk making its way into your face when you saw his arousal constricting uncomfortably against the fabric.

“That’s enough, thank you,” he whispered, his minty breath fanning your flushed cheeks. His hand was still wrapped around your wrist, and without breaking eye contact, you pulled away from his grasp and clasped his hand to pull him towards you. “What are you doing?”

“Giving you an idea of what I’m capable of.”

In an excruciatingly slow manner, you wrapped your lips around his finger, sucking the digit into your wet cavern. He let out a quiet gasp at the sensation of your tongue licking the underside, your eyes closed in bliss as you felt the bitterness of sanitizers and the saltiness of his skin. It took almost all your willpower not to grind on his lap right there and then, because even though you were a rather kinky woman, you wouldn’t go that far. 

“Stop.” He commanded, and you opened your eyes languidly before pulling him out with a lewd ‘pop’. “Do you think I’m the type of man who sleeps with strangers?”

You laughed. “I think you’re the type of man who can fuck me so well, but hmm… you’re a little boring, don’t you think?” Feigning disinterest, you turned away from him, ordering another shot. “Must be a mistake. I forgot men like you were too up in their heads to know how to make a woman feel good.”

He was practically fuming as you downed another shot, a sign that your plan was working. Next thing you knew, strong arms had wrapped around your waist and you let out a small yelp as he heaved you up effortlessly, until you were on his lap, and boy did he look angry. A choked moan left your mouth as he roughly grabbed your hair to expose your neck, and you felt even wetter at the thought that he could fuck you right here in the bar, out in the open for everyone to see. Public sex was something you’ve never tried, but now it seemed like a good idea. 

“You think you’re funny?” He raised a brow, his other hand trailing under your shirt to squeeze your breast through the material of your bra. You felt him pinch your nipple and you bucked forwards, grinding against his hardness. It must have felt painfully good, because he dragged you towards him. His tongue licked a trail from your neck to your ear before he threatened lowly. “Don’t fuck with me, angel. I’ve had a rough week, and I can ruin you.”

“You sure about that?” You replied huskily, palming him from underneath you and feeling his erection grow harder. “Because I’m no fragile thing, and I doubt you can give it to me how I like it.”

He hummed against your neck, and you felt your core getting wetter when he mumbled angrily. “And if I prove you wrong?”

“Then you can do whatever you want to me,” You supplied, glaring at him through the lashes. “Now, are you gonna make me wait, or are we gonna fuck?”

That seemed to trigger him, because soon he’s shoving you off his lap and pulling you outside to the back door. You faintly heard the bartender shouting at you to pay, but you were too clouded by your arousal that you let this nameless man drag you out to the dark alleyway where he wasted no time in slamming his lips to yours. You moaned when your head hit the hard bricks of the dirty alley, the searing touch of his fingers under your shirt as he pulled the cups of your bra down and tugged at your nipples enough to send sparks of fire running along down your centre. You were wet, so fucking wet, and you yearned to feel his touch right where you wanted him most.

Your hands had a mind of his own, and he growled into your lips when you blindly unbuckled his belt and shoved his pants down. When you palmed his erection and slipped your hands inside his boxers, you ran your finger against his slit and felt your fingers become coated in his pre cum. The stranger grunted, his tongue slipping inside your mouth before the wet muscle collided with yours in a heated manner.

“Fuck.” You moaned into his mouth, pumping your hand up and down his shaft slowly. He pulled away with his chest heaving up and down to look at where your fingers tried to wrap around his thick girth.

Shit, you knew he was big, but you didn’t expect him to be this big. The thought of his cock stretching you out and filling you so deeply had you removing your hands away from his cock to take off your stupid fucking leather pants that clung so tightly to your legs. He laughed at your obvious struggle, and you glared at him. Soon enough, his laughter died down when you shimmied out of your pants, completely speechless as he eyed your bare pussy.

“You haven’t been wearing underwear all this time?”

“I had a feeling I’d meet you tonight,” You joke, but he doesn’t find it funny because he growled, his hand cupping your sopping cunt that left you breathless.

His roughness took you by surprise that you found yourself clinging to his bicep for dear life. It wasn’t long before he slipped two fingers inside, scissoring his way through to your walls to stretch you out, and your head fell back against the wall as you felt him pump into you in an addicting manner that had you seeing stars at the back of your vision.

“You’re so wet already,” He commented, his head diving forwards to suck harshly onto your neck that has you moaning lewdly. You realized this stranger had his fingers shoved deep into your pussy in a dark alley, and while no one could see you at this place, you were sure someone would see the both of you if they passed by. And shit, how fucking hot that was. “That look on your face,” he noticed, “Are you turned on by the thought of getting caught?”

“Aren’t you?” You shot back, and you pushed his hand away when you felt that familiar coil in your belly.

He made a sound of protest that you ignored, and you pulled him down by the tie to attack his thin yet pillowy lips that were red and bruised by now. Your hand snaked between the both of you as you pulled his cock out and lined him against your centre, his breath coming out in stutters when you wrapped one of your legs around his waist as his tip entered you.

“Oh fuck, you’re so tight,” He moaned against your lips before slamming his hips forward until he’s penetrated you into the hilt, and you let out a small whimper of pain. He was big, bigger than you’d imagined. Ypon seeing the look of discomfort in your face, his hands came up to caress your face worriedly. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

You bit your lip, finding it oddly sweet he could be so gentle even when he was tearing you apart. “I’m fine. Just give me a minute, you’re really big.”

“Okay,” He nods, resting his forehead against yours, his hand still carefully holding you by the waist to help keep you up.

You realized you weren’t able to see his face well under the neon lights of the bar, but seeing him now just a breath away, you realized he’s really good looking. His eyes were warm and kind looking despite the evident lust pooling through those greenish-brown orbs, and his gaze was piercing as he seemed to assess your features back. His once gelled hair had now fallen into stray chunks, adding more to his striking features.

You were momentarily lost in his eyes and gentle touches that you forgot he still had his cock deep inside you.

With that thought, you moved your hips forward, your walls suffocating his length. He suddenly shut his eyes in pleasure, murmuring “Oh, fuck” under his breath. You didn’t need to say anything else, the clenching of your walls against him was enough for him to know he could now fuck you senseless. His eyes snapped open, any signs of the previous warmth he held had completely vanished into thin air as his hands hooked behind your knees, silently telling you to jump, and you wrapped both your legs around him.

“I’m not going to go soft and slow with you.”

“Wasn’t asking you to,” You teased, feeling smug at seeing such a composed looking man slowly losing himself in you. He growled at your remarks, and your teasing ceased when he pushed you firmly against the wall, his hands gripping your waist tightly that you were sure you’d get bruises the day after as he rammed into you at a relentless pace.

You were a mess in his arms, your breasts bouncing and slapping your chest up and down as his cock reached places inside you that you didn’t even know existed. He stared at it as if hypnotized before he leaned down, capturing one nipple and lapping at it like a starved man.

Your hair was now sticking onto your skin uncomfortably, uncontrollable moans flowing from your mouth that had fallen open at how each of his strokes seemed to hit everything perfectly. He was stretching you out, filling you so well that each snap of his hips had you tugging at his hair, hard, and he grunted at the pain of you pulling onto his strands. As if encouraged by the action, he pulled out all the way until only his tip was left inside. You stared at him in bewilderment, and he smirked at you arrogantly.

It was just about the sexiest fucking thing you’ve ever seen, and it didn’t help the sweat from his skin made his shirt clung onto him tightly, giving you a teasing view of strong pecs underneath.

You only had a few seconds of rest before he slammed his hips harder than the first, and you had to bite down on your lip to keep yourself from screaming. He was good, so good, and your wetness coated him so well as if urging him to fuck you harder. The sound of your moans, his low grunts and the wet sounds of your arousal dripping onto his length was so dirty and erotic that when he hit your sensitive spot, you cursed loudly as your head fell onto his shoulder. 

Your back grazed the brick wall rather uncomfortably, but all you could focus on was the sweet torture his cock was abusing your core with. He snapped his hips in a deliciously tantalizing manner, your eyes shut tight as he grunted lowly when you clenched around him, a sign you were close. Judging by the way his thrusts had become erratic, it seemed like he was too.

“Baby, I’m close.” He announced, beads of sweat falling onto his cheeks. He looked fucked out with the way he was gritting his teeth as he continued to slam into you, his hips coming forward hurriedly as if desperate to reach his high. You knew you didn’t look better. Tears threatened to escape your eyes at the way his tip was brushing against your sweet spot abusingly, over and over again. You were so lost in the pleasure you felt that he tapped his fingers against your cheek whimpering at the sensations flooding through.

“I’m close,” he panted, “Where can I cum?”

“Inside,” You breathed out, a moan falling from your open lips.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” You nod tiredly, looking down to see how your pussy engulfed him completely. His length disappeared back into you after every withdrawal, as if your womanhood didn’t ever want him to pull away. And from the way he throbbed inside you, it seemed like he didn’t want to pull away either.

“Oh fuck,” He rasped out, his thrusts stuttering as you felt him release inside you, the warmth of his cum filling you up so good.

“Shit, shit, shit,” You mumbled in the crook of his neck as he spilled himself inside you, feeling your combined essence dripping out of your hole. He groaned, riding the both of your highs before you felt him soften inside you. You were both breathing heavily, and you were taken by surprise when he kissed you again, softer this time. His hands crawled up to the nape of your neck as he nibbled on your lower lip, and you groaned into the kiss, thinking if there’d ever been a time you were taken in a such a debauched manner yet kissed so sweetly.

Your memories came up with nothing.

The contrast of him passionately kissing you like a lover had you feeling lightheaded from how he had roughly fucked you, but you basked in the warmth of him anyway. He smelled faintly of sweat, sex, and his cologne, a scent you think you could get used to forever. His hair was soft as you threaded your fingers through it, and he sighed in content at the feeling of you gently massaging his scalp, his large hand now cupping the side of your face.

When he pulled away from you, he rested his forehead against yours, his eyes tired and drooping. The silence of the night engulfed you both as he stayed inside you, and then you both started laughing out of nowhere. He helped you get down safely, his hand still gently placed on the small of your back before he slid out of you completely.

You bit your lip to restrain yourself from fucking him again – the sight of his soft member leaving the warmth of your slick folds shouldn’t have been so erotic. You didn’t want to pull away from him – at least not yet – so you reached forward, tucking his cock back into his boers as you ignored his heated stare at the back of your head. Soon, you pulled your pants back up, wincing at how wet you were down there.

“Are you okay?” he asked, not missing the way he stared at how your tight pants outlined your pussy. He cleared his throat awkwardly, “Uhm, I’m sorry about… that,” he gestured to your camel toe, and you scoffed in amusement. “I can take you home, if you’d like.”

“No thanks, I’m good,” You shook your head, smiling innocently at how his shoulders seemed to drop in disappointment. “Although I must say, it’s gonna be hard to walk home tonight…  Doctor Zayne.”

The sight of his eyes widening and his mouth falling open almost seemed comical to you. “Wh-what? How’d you know my name?”

You grinned, showing him his wallet and work ID card. He opened and closed his mouth like a fish before he puffed his cheeks out instead. He patted his pockets in a frenzy, and at the realization that it was indeed empty, you threw his belongings back to him sloppily, his arms flailing out before it fell to the ground. He mumbled a ‘thanks’ at your way. You nodded at him and walked away, letting the darkness of the night swallow you before he called you out. You paused in your steps.

“Wait!” He shouted, although you failed to hear the sound of footsteps. “Aren’t you gonna tell me your name?”

“I don’t think I need to,” You smirked over your shoulder, mockingly saluting him on your way. “I have a feeling we’ll meet each other again.”

Zayne was left in the dark alley that night. As much as he wanted to run after you and take you home, he had a strong feeling you didn’t want to be followed. Once you’d been completely swallowed by the darkness, he jumped in his spot when the back door flung open harshly, and he was met with the sight of a pissed off looking man. It was the bartender.

“Well?” He huffed, “Aren’t you gonna pay?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Your girlfriend left without paying,” He hissed, shoving the receipt into the smaller man’s face who looked lost. His eyes skimmed over the amount you’ve drank, grimacing when he saw the hefty price. “Pay up. Now.” Zayne cursed inwardly, handing over a wad of cash to the bartender’s outstretched palm before going home with a frown. 

He should have known you were trouble. One look at your predatory gaze, and the way you sized him up like he was your next meal, he fell right into your trap. He kicked a bunch of pebbles in frustration, hating the way he felt so attracted to you the moment he landed his eyes on you. It didn’t help that you were the exact embodiment of sexiness either. You were confident, and carried an aura that made him feel like you could’ve conquered the world should you wish. 

In conclusion, you were the exact image of his desires that came to life, and now he faced the consequences of falling into the trap of a seductive temptress. 

He just hoped never to see you again. 

Weeks passed by since the last time he saw you, and Zayne refused to admit that he went back to the bar several days in a week in hopes of seeing you again.

But after the fifth night that the bartender sent him pitiful glances, he never came back once informed you hadn’t returned ever since. He didn’t even know why he should care, he didn’t even know your name. And yet… he found himself wanting to know more about you. Call it simple curiosity or just him being plainly attracted to your mysteriousness, he didn’t care. One thing he could admit though, was that he thought you were quite the most beautiful woman he’d ever met. The way you held yourself so surely and knew exactly what you liked was enough to bring out the primal side of his being.

But, those thoughts aside, you just screamed trouble.

And Zayne worked hard to get where he was now. He still remembered those hellish nights he was unable to sleep when his midterms were coming up, because medical school was just both a curse and a blessing at the same time. It was even harder since his parents had passed away long ago that he had to support himself at such a young age. His childhood – or lack thereof – had been a blur of working two part time jobs to afford his school fees and stacking his mini fridge of bottled coffees just to survive that night. Because of his hectic routine and his dedication to his dreams, Zayne never got to date anyone.

It wasn’t because he didn’t look good either, no, it was quite the opposite.

He’d received multiple confessions in medical school from wonderful girls who all came from good families, but one look at their preppy attitudes and cookie cutter perfect image, he knew he would never fit in. Sure, they were nice, sweet, and smart, but most of his classmates in the resident school had only gotten in because they were born privileged. They would never understand his struggles. And so, with a polite smile, he turned them all down and focused on his own future instead.

He just wanted to pave a better life himself first. Love could come afterwards.

Zayne just never thought it would come in the form of a leather jacket clad woman with blood red lipstick who hauled a man twice her size on her shoulders, cursing at him for being ‘a stupid fucking dimwit’ into the emergency room, exactly on the time of his shift. Zayne shot upwards from his seat in a flash, rounding the counter and making his way towards you and your friend, who he realized was sporting a gunshot to his thigh.

At the sight of your most recent – and undeniably the best fuck you’ve had – wearing a black button-up hidden under a white coat, paired with squeaky white shoes, a stethoscope hanging around his neck and just looking so damn fuckable, had you laughing with glee. 

Never mind Luke who was groaning in pain. It was his fault for getting shot anyway. You told the younger male multiple times not to play around with guns and not to challenge your shooting skills because you’d always be better than him. But he refused to back down due to the fact he was so butthurt over it and dragged you into the shooting fields, only for the gun to slip into his sweaty hands, successfully shooting his own leg in the process.

Yeah, you didn’t care at all.

“Doctor Zayne!” You exclaimed gleefully, pushing Luke’s heavy weight off of you until he fell to the hospital bed. You ignored his screams in pain. “What a coincidence!” You glanced at your friend, “Luke, look how lucky you are. Zayne’s in tonight. I heard he’s the best doctor.”

Luke eyed you both, watching carefully as Zayne only nodded at you in return before he proceeded to pull out several doctor shit you had no idea with, but they did seem familiar. You only recognized them briefly from those times you had to dress your wounds yourself, and it wasn’t exactly a memory filled with sunshine and rainbows. 

“Okay, I’m going to inject you with some anesthesia,” Zayne’s voice cut through the air, and you watched in awe as he proceeded to do everything flawlessly. 

Soon enough, Luke, who was always a wuss when it came to pain, had already passed out by the time the raven-haired doctor had plucked out the bullets and proceeded with the stitching. Not wanting to interrupt, you jumped up on the nurse’s counter, swinging your legs back and forth with your palms placed flatly behind you before assessing the place.

It was a rather big and well known hospital, so you were confused that Zayne seemed to be the only one around. The only sound that filled the air was Luke’s hiccupping followed by snores, and you scoffed at him, eyes trained on Zayne’s skillful fingers working on the sutures flawlessly. You noticed his brows were furrowed in concentration, his bottom lip caught between his teeth, and you tipped your head to the side in admiration.

You didn’t understand what was so endearing about a professional man concentrated on his work, but you found yourself enamored by the mere sight of him. 

Somehow, he managed to look absolutely perfect under the bright fluorescent lights of the emergency room, and you thought it was unfair. He wasn’t even dressed to impress. His white coat was wrinkled, and only now does it make sense when he told you he’d had a rough week the first time you met him. Dark bags were under his eyes, and you squinted at the sight of several headache pills and cups of coffee neatly placed behind the counter where he once sat, waiting for patients who needed his help.

Guilt immediately washed over you. 

Here, Zayne probably spent day and night saving countless lives. Maybe people like him would have been able to get more rest had people like you not existed. 

Your train of thought was cut off when you suddenly felt a warm hand caressing your face, and you froze under Zayne’s touch. Looking up, you swallowed when you realized his face was close to yours – way too close – that you could see the worry present in his gaze.

“What happened?” He asked softly, concern coating his dulcet voice that you couldn’t help but feel small inside his arms. You blinked. Wait, what? Felt small? You almost wanted to laugh, because you both led different lives. In your world of kill or be killed, you were definitely on the ‘kill’ side. People like you weren’t weak, so you sat up straighter, tearing yourself away from his soothing touch as you flashed him a lazy grin.

“Don’t mind him, he was just being stupid,” you gestured to a passed out Luke.

Zayne shook his head, pulling off his medical gloves before throwing it into the waste bin. “He could have been in a critical situation if you hadn’t brought him here earlier. Your friend got shot in the leg, and it was dangerously close to his bones. A single shot to the leg, especially the thighs, could have been deadly. The bullet could have exploded into tiny pieces until it flowed into his bloodstream, and those little shrapnels could have killed him,” he sighed tiredly, placing his arms beside your body. Even with you sitting on top of a counter, Zayne still managed to be taller than you. “Your friend could have died tonight. He needs to be confined for further treatment.”

Your eyes almost popped out its socket, “What? No! We need to be back by tonight!”

“I can’t allow that,” he shook his head, “He needs proper recovery.”

“But–” you started, pausing in your words when he gave you a look that told you you didn’t have any way out of this. But you had to get Luke back to the base tonight before Jenna woke up. You didn’t want your boss finding out his best asset and the newest fresh meat he assigned you to train to end up with a medical record accessible by your enemies, unless you wanted to end up dead in a ditch somewhere. Then, an idea flashed into your mind, and you looked around for the possibility of anyone walking into you. Looking back at the sexy doctor hovering over you firmly, you flashed your most seductive smile, running your hand down his chest before purring, “–you can always have exceptions, right?”

Zayne glared at you, although he didn’t stop you from looping your fingers to his pants. If anything, he’s a little grateful for the distraction. He realized you were much better at waking him up than any of those energy drinks and coffee. No, you set his nerves on fire, and he started to panic when you jumped off the counter and went down on your knees.

“Hey, what are you doing?!” He whisper-hissed, stopping you from doing whatever you were about to do. “My co-workers are just on their break, they’ll be back in five minutes.”

“Five minutes?” You chuckled arrogantly, looking up at him innocently. The image of you looking absolutely cute while at eye level with his now growing arousal was something that would haunt him for the rest of his life. “With how good I am, you’d come undone in two minutes.” And I’d get Luke out in no time, you thought to yourself.

Zayne scoffed when he realized you had a knack for bruising his ego, and you laughed harder when he shoved his pants down until his erection sprang free, his cock bending towards his stomach. You smirked at the fact he was already hard, his head now red and dripping with precum. You felt proud it didn’t take much to turn him on. 

Oh, you were gonna have fun indeed.

“Two minutes,” he growled, his hands pulling your hair into a makeshift ponytail as his hips thrust forward, his cock slapping against your cheek. The essence of his arousal making your face feel sticky. “You’ve got two minutes to make me cum.”

“The pleasure is mine.”

Not wasting a second longer, you placed your hands on his strong thighs before taking him into your mouth. Zayne moaned at the feeling of your warm mouth around his cock. You licked the underside of his cock, feeling every protruding ridge and vein before you started sucking him. Bobbing your head up and down, Zayne closed his eyes in pleasure, thrusting forward when you hollowed your cheeks around him.

“Ah, fuck,” He grunted, his tip hitting the back of your throat, and your gag reflex clenched around his head. It was a beautiful sight to behold, seeing him lose himself in the feeling of your mouth around him. You sucked him off earnestly until you pulled him out with only his tip left inside, his muscles quivering under your touch. 

Feeling that he was close, you took him all the way back in until you’re gagging on his length again. Tears started to fall on your cheeks at how he had completely taken over. Soon enough, you felt him grow bigger inside you until you knew he was about to cum. He pulled away, or more like tried to, because you placed your palm flat on his ass to keep him right where he was. You started choking and gagging on his cock when he harshly thrust inside your mouth, his warm seed spurting on your tongue.

Zayne fought back another groan. He struggled to breathe from the orgasm you gave him, and you opened your mouth, showing him that his cum was all over your tongue before you made a show of swallowing it. Your lipstick had also smeared, the red smudged all over your face. Deciding to tease him further, you wrapped your lips around him one more time, leaving lipstick stains all over his semi hard cock.

“W-wait,” he tried to push your head back, “Sensitive – I can’t–”

Determined to clean him off, you licked all around his member, still tasting the saltiness of his cum coating your tongue before pulling him out with a wet ‘pop.’

You stood up and brushed the dust of your knees, thankful that your skinny ripped jeans hadn’t been stained the slightest. Zayne pulled his pants back up, glaring at you when he saw you trying not to smile at him. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Nothing,” you said, “Did it feel good?”

“I came in a minute and a half, what’d you think?” He snapped, and you laughed at how moody he seemed. Zayne rounded the counter before typing something away at his computer, not sparing you a glance as he asked for your friend’s personal information. He looked up at you with a raised brow. “I said, what’s your friend’s name?”

You crossed your arms against your chest. “You know, I blew you off. Let me off the hook just this once,”

“What?” He asked, bewildered, “What part of your friend needs proper recovery don’t you understand? He needs to be under supervision.”

“We have a resident doctor,” you informed, “He just wasn’t around today, but I assure you he can take care of him. Come on, Zayne, it’s only right that you repay me for making you feel good, no?”

“You made me pay for your drinks at the bar. I think I deserved that blowjob.”

“Oh, come on,” you pouted, trying to do the puppy eye method and wishing it would work on him. It didn’t, and you sighed in defeat. “I can repay you next time.”

“There won’t be a next time,” he hissed, and you groaned, exasperated.

There would be a next time because you wanted him as much he wanted you!

Desperate to make him change his mind, you tugged your crop top down to show that again you weren’t wearing anything underneath. Zayne’s eyes immediately clouded with lust at the sight.

He scoffed, though he doesn’t tear his gaze away from your perky buds. “Did you think you could bribe a professional with your gorgeous body?”

“Of course,” you replied confidently, pushing your shirt back to its place before walking beside Luke, ignoring the way Zayne eyed your tattoo weirdly. You shook him awake, but he only mumbled and slapped your hand away, and you sighed. Zayne was still watching you both curiously from behind the counter. You gave him an ‘ok’ sign before slapping Luke hard on the face, to which he immediately bolted awake.

“Ow, what the fuck was that for?!”

“That’s not how you talk to your senior,” you scolded him while helping him get up with his arm looped around your neck. Turning to Zayne, you winked, “I have a car, don’t worry. I’ll make sure he’ll get taken care of.”

He hummed with a frown etched on his face, not liking the thought of you alone in a car with a different man. “Will you tell me your name now?”

Luke was halfway passed out again in your arms, and you grinned cheekily at the hot doctor who was patiently waiting for your answer.

Finally, you introduced yourself, “But try not to say my name too much.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re gonna get hurt if you do.”

Just as fast as you appeared and always gave him something to remember you by, you disappeared.

It was starting to infuriate the doctor by now, at how he knew the curves of your body but otherwise had no idea of who you were. He knew you weren’t a normal citizen like him, and he’s pondered several times if maybe you were a criminal. It made him wince; the thought of falling for a criminal out of all people was enough for him to be thrown off balance.

Every morning, he woke up at the thought of your smile, of how adorable and innocent you seemed when you just laughed to your heart’s content and your eyes formed into little crescent moons. He also remembered the way you smelled, a mix of roses and something entirely soft and feminine. He grew afraid of forgetting your sweet scent that he even thought of not showering before he realized how undeniably disgusting that was. And so with a disgruntled thought, a hard on that made him jack off in the shower at the thought of you, and very confused feelings, Zayne decided to throw himself into work and just forget about you completely.

Things were much better that way anyway.

Desperate to ignore how his mind was heavy at the thought of you, of how he craved to hold you instead of touch you, he took on several shifts that absolutely left him drained by the end of the day. He was basically sleeping in empty operating rooms by now, the stench of rubbing alcohol and metallic steel comforting to him. He was so overworked that even nurses and several doctors had become worried for him.

“Zayne,” Nurse Jude addressed the dark-haired doctor who had a clipboard cradled to his chest, well on his way to looking like a zombie right now. “I think you should go home. You don’t look too well.”

Zayne only smiled gratefully, always finding comfort in the quieter nurse’s presence. Jude was a calm and gentle steady energy, and he secretly envied at how he seemed to have everything balanced. If he remembered correctly, he still managed to have the time to take his girlfriend out on dates despite also basically living in the hospital. Jude was well rounded and had everything he wanted and needed, while Zayne just felt left behind for silently chasing (not really, he hadn’t seen you in months) a woman who he was certain was a criminal. 

Or worse, a murderer.

He really needed to set his mind straight.

“I’m fine, don’t worry about me,” he lied, checking the patient’s vitals while Jude places the suggested meals for their recovery. “I just have a lot on my mind, that’s all.”

“Is it a girl?”

He paused on the act of scribbling down the rates, his hand reaching up to rub his neck awkwardly. “Is it too obvious?”

“A little, yeah,” Jude laughed before patting him on the back comfortingly. “Don’t worry about it too much, I’m sure it’ll work out in the end.”

Zayne smiled sadly. The likelihood of even meeting you again was highly unlikely, what even more the possibility of you liking him the same way he liked you. But he nodded anyway, not wanting to make Jude feel bad. “I sure hope so.”

“It will,” he insisted, and the spectacled nurse gives him a small smile before making his way out. “Oh, and I talked to Nurse Jang, she said she’ll gladly cover your shift for you. Go home, Zayne, you need to rest.”

Zayne smiled, silently asking himself why he couldn’t have just been a woman and dated someone like Jude instead. He was smart, attractive, and caring. 

He shook his head in disbelief, bidding the patient deep in slumber a farewell before following his co-worker out the hallway to retrieve his stuff and go home. Jude and Nurse Jang both gave him bread in hopes that he would get his much needed rest soon. Since Zayne was feeling like taking a stroll in the night, he pocketed his car keys and walked all the way to his apartment.

The stars were out and bright, and he stared at them astonishingly, wondering if you were looking at the same sky as him; if you saw the stars the way it was now. He stopped in his tracks, suddenly feeling cold and lonely in the empty night as his mind started to get swarmed by thoughts of you. 

He really didn’t understand why he felt attracted to you, all he knew was that there was this… spark, or connection, however corny that sounded.

And he knew he just wasn’t after your body – although he would love to fuck you again, in his bed this time if you’d allow him to take his time with you – no, he was completely drunk at the thought of you.

It was weird, how he didn’t even know your last name, your age, or what you really did for a living. And yet, he didn’t care about all those, all he knew was that he wanted to be with you. He wants to spend time with you and get to know you better, and hell, he wants to pamper you with so much love that he doesn’t understand fucking why. Frustrated, he runs his hand down his face with a groan, unable to get his mind off of you. Maybe it was because you had a good sense of humor, and you always kept him on his toes and there was just something about you that let him know he had to cherish each and every moment.

With a sigh, he stopped looking at the stars because it only reminded him of how you were probably somewhere, unsafe. He didn’t have the slightest of how you were and he was worrying for a complete stranger. 

Too lost in his own thoughts, he failed to hear the sound of a gun clicking. Zayne froze when he felt the cold barrel of a gun pressing against his forehead, followed by a gruff voice cutting through the silence of the air.

“Give me your money.”

Zayne gulped, pocketing his wallet immediately at the sight of the man holding him hostage come at eye level with him. He gulped at how his left eye was closed due to a scar that ran until his chin. Obviously, this guy had seen some real things that Zayne doesn’t even want to be involved in, and his heart was picking up a mile a minute. He was about to hand his wallet and cellphone over, making sure he still kept his work ID, when a feminine and a strangely familiar laughter joined in the scene.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

Carefully, Zayne turned around, only to see you leaning against the wall lazily with a cigarette dangling by the edge of your lips, somehow looking bored at the scene. If he wasn’t about to piss in his pants right now in fear of getting his brains blown out any moment, he would have admired you openly. He swallowed at the sight of you wearing nothing but a lace black bralette under a washed denim jacket, paired with ripped skinny jeans and untied combat boots. Still so pretty, even when his entire body warned him not to get too close.

Like the first time he saw you, you screamed danger, and Zayne found himself unable to look away.

“Go home, little girl,” the man snapped, “This isn’t a place for youngsters like you.”

You sighed tiredly. “Whatever. Just let the man go, and learn a little lesson from him. If you want money, you gotta work hard like everyone else.”

A tick seemed to go off in him, because soon Zayne was being shoved aside. He shouted your name loudly when the man had his gun pointed at you instead. However, you only grinned at him, cocking your head to the side in pure amusement. Zayne watched as the man lowered his gun, fingers stuttering as realization dawned on him.

“Are you part of the–”

“Exactly, sweetheart,” you smiled sweetly, taking his fingers off from the weapon. “Now, run along before I kill you, okay? Let’s just forget this ever happened.”

Tha man nodded before scurrying away, and Zayne pushed himself up to his feet to place himself beside you. Your eyes were still trained on the offender’s retreating form. Zayne was about to pull your attention to him when you suddenly raised the gun with a squint, the sound of a gun firing echoed through the night. Zayne gasped, disbelief written all over his face as the man fell down.

You turned to him with an unreadable expression. “I didn’t kill him, don’t worry.”

“Didn’t kill?!” he asks, enraged. “You still shot someone!”

“I know Jason, he’s gonna run for a little bit and come back to you. Did you really think I’d risk you getting killed when I could have prevented it?” Your words came out with spite that Zayne didn’t respond to, watching as you stashed the gun into the back pocket of your jeans. “Thought so. Come on, I’ll take you home.”

“You don’t need to.”

“Jesus, Zayne,” you said exasperatedly, “Out of all the places you could’ve taken a detour in, you had to choose a bad neighborhood, didn’t you? I’m taking you home, and that’s final.” Zayne started to protest, but one glare from you had him shutting up. Once sure he had given in, you showed him your trademark carefree smile, bowing down mockingly. “Lead the way, sir.”

“I live close by,” he rolled his eyes, and you fell into step with him easily. 

The two of you walked in silence, your hands swinging back and forth obnoxiously as your legs took longer strides to keep up with him. When he realized he considerably walked faster than you did, he slowed down until you were right next to him, and you were taken by surprise when he looped his hand through yours, eyes staring directly ahead. “This is just so you don’t fall behind.”

“How sweet,” you commented cheekily, reaching up to peck him on the cheeks. Zayne, not expecting the innocent gesture even in his wildest dreams, whipped his head so fast to look at you. He looked so ridiculously cute that you couldn’t help but kiss him again, making sure your lips remained to his skin a little longer than the first. “You look so adorable.”

His cheeks burned at the way you looked at him, your eyes completely youthful, innocent, and just looking at him with so much adoration that he thought… he wasn’t going to deny it anymore. He liked you. 

Upon rendering him speechless, you giggled before tugging him forwards to walk home. Zayne turned away from you to hide a childish grin.

The walk back was peaceful, and the mere scent of your rose scented perfume was enough to soothe his nerves as well. Maybe it was because he knew he was safe, and that’s why he felt comfortable, but one look at you humming a tune to yourself, he realized he was calm and at peace because you were safe. 

You obviously led a life that would be hard to explain to him, and while he wanted to get to know you better, he also didn't want to push you into divulging information you wouldn’t want to.

For now, he was just glad to see you and have you by his side again, and he was going to try to elongate this moment for as long as he could.

And so the stoic doctor walked slowly on purpose, and you, being observant and calculative as ever, knew exactly what he was getting at and walked slowly as well. It was a little chilly, and your lack of clothing didn’t help, so you pressed your body flush against his, your head naturally finding its place into the crook of his neck. It wasn’t the most comfortable position, but his strong arm encircled your waist. You didn’t find it in yourself to complain.

You just missed him.

And he missed you too, although no one would ever say that out loud.

“How was work?” You asked softly, “You don’t look like you’ve been sleeping well.”

“Hmm,” he hummed, turning slightly to press a kiss to the top of your head before his apartment came into view and you both walked upstairs. “I couldn’t get my mind off this amazing person, and I had to work a lot to forget her.”

You chuckled breathily from his hold, and Zayne smiled when he felt the vibrations of your chest rumble to his skin. “Maybe it’s much better to forget her. She’s just bad news, you know.”

“I don’t think I want to forget her,” he admitted, now standing in front of his unit. Zayne loosened his hold on you, his hands finding its place on your shoulders before bending down to look at you. “I think… I want to keep seeing you.”

A smile made its way to your face, but it was more confused than sad. Shrugging his hold off of you, you lifted your denim jacket to show him the intricate dragon tattoo that ran until the top of your breasts. “I’m a criminal, Zayne. I’m part of an underground gang, and, well… as much as I want to see you too, I don’t think this is gonna work out.”

“We won’t know until we’ve tried,” he insisted, and your eyes lit up in amusement at how he seemed intent on getting to know you better. It warmed your heart in a way that you’d never felt before, and your smile only grew bigger, perhaps even a little shy when he continued speaking. “Can I – feel free to say no, but please don’t – take you out on a date?”

Your eyes squinted so hard from how large you were smiling, and really, how could you say no? Fishing your phone out from your pocket, you typed in his name next to a heart emoji before handing it to him. Zayne laughed in disbelief as he texted himself through your number and saved his contact information. 

“I’ll text you the details. When are you free?”

“I’m a busy woman,” you told him, cocking your head to the side teasingly. “But if it’s for you, I’m always free.”

Zayne’s face flushed. “Wow, okay, I didn’t think you’d say yes.”

You rolled your eyes, walking away from him with a wave of your hand. “I’ll see you around, Doc. This is my first date, so it better not be disappointing.”

“It won’t!”

And Zayne really did keep to his word. Only three days after you walked him home, your phone buzzed from its place rather loudly that you accidentally knocked Luke’s gun out of his hold. A shot rang through the air and a scream tore its way from his throat. You rolled your eyes when you saw that he almost shot himself again.

“I swear, Luke, I’m not taking you to the hospital again because of your stupidity.”

He had the audacity to look appalled. “You made me drop my gun!”

“Tough luck,” you teased, grinning as you read Zayne’s text. He was asking if you were available tonight, and you immediately replied back saying you were. “Okay, tell the boss I’ll be out tonight. Don’t ask why. I’m meeting someone.”

“What does that me–hey! You know Jenna will kill me if she finds out you went out again!”

“That was kind of the plan,” you laughed, twisting your car keys into your finger before running away from the younger male who had gone pale in fear. “But don’t die tonight!”

You expected someone like Zayne to take you to a quiet, upscale restaurant for your first date, the kind of place where you could sit across from each other and talk softly about your lives over candlelight. But instead, you found yourself in a small, crowded theater, where the seats were a little too close together and the air was thick with anticipation.

As you settled into your seats, you couldn’t help but smile at the contrast between the setting and the man beside you. Zayne, usually so composed in his button-ups and scrubs, had opted for a simple black hoodie and jeans, his hair down and slightly tousled. The look softened his serious demeanor, and you found it endearing.

“I didn’t expect you to pick a horror movie,” you teased as the previews began to roll.

Zayne’s lips quirked up in a shy smile, but he kept his eyes on the screen. “I thought it’d be...interesting,” he replied, the hesitation in his voice betraying his nerves.

“Interesting, huh? You sure you can handle it?” you nudged him playfully.

“I’m a doctor. I’ve seen worse things,” he said, though the faint tension in his posture suggested otherwise.

As the movie started, you noticed how intently he was watching the screen, his posture straight, his eyes focused. The suspense began to build, and you could feel Zayne tensing beside you. The protagonist on screen was slowly inching closer to the inevitable scare, and you couldn’t resist stealing a glance at Zayne. When the jump scare finally hit, the theater erupted with screams, and Zayne flinched, his grip on the popcorn box tightening. He let out a quiet exhale, his eyes darting to you as if to gauge your reaction.

“Are you okay?” you asked, leaning closer to him.

He gave a small nod, a wry smile tugging at his lips. “I’m fine. Just...not my usual choice of entertainment.”

You grinned, finding his honesty charming. “Well, I’m glad you’re here with me anyway.”

“Me too,” he said, his voice soft, almost hesitant. He shifted slightly in his seat, and his fingers brushed against yours on the armrest. It was a subtle touch, but the warmth of his skin sent a pleasant shiver down your spine.

As the movie continued, Zayne remained composed, though you noticed how his hand eventually settled over yours, his grip gentle yet reassuring. It wasn’t overt or flashy, but rather a quiet sign of affection that made your heart swell.

When the credits rolled and the lights came up, you both sat in comfortable silence for a moment before he turned to you. His expression was soft, and there was a vulnerability in his eyes that you hadn’t seen before.

“I’m sorry if this wasn’t what you expected,” he said, his thumb grazing your hand as he spoke.

You shook your head, smiling up at him. “Zayne, this was perfect. I didn’t need anything fancy. I just wanted to spend time with you.”

He looked relieved, and as you both stood up to leave, he helped you to your feet, his hand resting lightly on your back as you exited the theater. The cool night air greeted you, and you felt a sense of calm between you, a quiet understanding that didn’t need words.

“Do you want to grab a coffee or something?” he asked, his voice low, as if he was still feeling out the moment.

“Actually,” you said, stopping him as you turned to face him, “I was thinking we could just...walk for a bit?”

His eyes softened, and he nodded. “I’d like that.”

As you walked side by side, the city’s lights twinkling around you, Zayne reached for your hand again, this time with more confidence. His fingers intertwined with yours, and he gave your hand a gentle squeeze. “I have to admit,” he said after a few minutes of comfortable silence, “I was really nervous about tonight.”

You glanced at him, surprised. “You? Nervous?”

He chuckled softly, his eyes fixed ahead. “Yeah. I’m not exactly great at this...dating thing.”

“You’re doing just fine,” you assured him, your heart warming at his confession.

When you reached a quiet spot away from the bustling streets, Zayne slowed to a stop, turning to face you fully. There was something in his gaze, a mix of shyness and determination, that made your breath catch. “I know I’m not the easiest person to read,” he began, his voice steady despite the slight flush on his cheeks, “but I want you to know that...I’m really glad you agreed to go out with me.”

You smiled, feeling the sincerity in his words. “I’m glad too, Zayne. Really.”

He hesitated for a brief moment before leaning in, his movements slow and deliberate, giving you plenty of time to pull away if you wanted. But you didn’t. Instead, you closed the distance, meeting him halfway. The first touch of his lips was soft, almost tentative, but as you responded, he deepened the kiss, his hand coming up to cup your cheek.

The kiss was everything you hadn’t expected – gentle, warm, and unhurried. It wasn’t about passion or fireworks, but a press of lips where you familiarized yourselves with each other’s taste. When you finally pulled away, you found yourself smiling shyly at each other.

“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?” he asked, his thumb brushing over your lower lip as he gazed at you.

“Not in so many words,” you replied, your voice teasing but soft.

He smiled, a rare and genuine expression that made your heart skip a beat. “You do. You look amazing.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks.

Zayne held your gaze for a moment longer before he finally stepped back, still holding your hand as you continued your walk. The night was calm, and with Zayne by your side, everything felt just right. He took you to a diner afterwards where you feasted on burgers and milkshakes. It definitely wasn’t anything out of the norm, but it was perfect nevertheless. He refused to let go of your hand under the table, and although you told him he’d struggle to eat with one hand, he just shook his head with a smile and insisted he never wanted to let you go.

You should have known that night would be just one of many.

And it was never easy.

Of course, being a gangster had never been on par with dating a doctor, and even though most of your things are now placed in his apartment, it still wasn’t easy. You often left without a word, only coming back near the verge of dying, and Zayne would always hold back his tears as he took care of you. 

It wasn’t easy because you kept coming back to him and your old life, two worlds that never blended well together, because he was the preserver of life and you were the bringer of death. It wasn’t easy when it always felt like you had too little time that made Zayne always had to cherish every moment he had with you. It wasn’t easy for you, and definitely not for him, yet Zayne never asked you to stay. 

Instead, he always watched you leave in the middle of the night, silently hoping you’d come back safely.

Today was not one of those days.

Jenna had sent you off somewhere far away to handle one of her deals for her, and it didn’t end up looking pretty when your so called client tried to run away without payment. Needless to say, you got stabbed in the gut, but you came home with bags of money anyway. It was a miracle you were able to drive yourself all the way back without passing out. 

Just like when Luke accidentally shot himself, the resident medic wasn’t around, and you found yourself limping to Zayne’s apartment. It was a little ways past midnight, and he was still awake, back hunched over a few papers of his patients. Upon hearing the sound of rapid knocking he knew was yours, he immediately cleared off his table to take care of you. Just like how he always had. 

And like always, you looked at him dreamily, because he was the only light in your life. Your heart swelled with your feelings for him, because whether he had you bent over the counter as he fucked you from behind or you were just cuddling him – or moments like now where you were barely breathing and your gaze was unfocused – he always looked at you the same way.

He always looked at you like he loved you, and you knew he did.

“I missed you,” you croaked out, coughing up blood afterwards. He shushed you before proceeding to stitch you up. “I’m sorry I’m always gone and you keep having to take care of me.”

“It’s okay,” he murmured, his hand momentarily cupping your cheeks.

You looked up at him with so much affection that made him wonder if you were hurt at all, and those were one of the things about you. You had your own demons, yet you always seemed bright and carefree, and he sighed. 

Zayne blamed it on that cursed hippocratic oath that always made him come to your beck and call. But one look at your smiling – although bloodied – face, he realizes he doesn’t mind being your personal doctor. 

Like always, he was just glad you were safe. 

You soon passed out in his dining table, your clothes stained with blood now seeping through and making a mess of his furniture. But he didn't mind, and instead carried you bridal style to his room where he lets you rest. He peeled off your dirty clothes away from your body before draping you his oversized yellow hoodie, his heart stirring with worry and happiness at seeing you in his bed, in his clothes, and in his arms.

To him, that was enough since he knew there wasn’t much you could give him, so he cuddled next to you, careful not to add pressure to your wounds before falling asleep.

You didn’t know how long you’ve been out for, but by the time you’d woken up, you realized you were in Zayne’s bed, dressed in your favorite hoodie of his. Groaning, you covered your eyes when the sunlight streamed in harshly. Zayne stirred from beside you. You let out a little gasp when you felt his erection pressing against your ass, his husky morning voice groaning in your ear.

“Baby,” he moaned, his hands lifting your – his – hoodie up as his fingers trail your skin up to your breasts. “Can I fuck you?”

“I,” you started, pausing when your throat goes dry. “Yes, please.”

Zayne groaned as he scooted closer to you, his hair starting to tickle your neck. You sucked in a sharp breath when his fingers pushed your panties to the side, the tip of his erection teasing your folds before he pushed all the way in. “Fuck,” he moaned lowly, “Tell me if it hurts anywhere.”

You only chuckled lightly as your lips gripped him tightly, because only now do you remember the previous incident you were in. True to his words, Zayne was careful not to hurt you, his hands finding home in your hips instead of your waist. You shuddered at the same time he let out little grunts next to your ear. You wished you could turn around to see how his face contorts in that way when he’s about to cum, but he doesn’t let you. His hand started to grip your breasts under the material of his hoodie, making you close your eyes in the feeling of him filling you again.

It had been too long, way too long, and you missed him. 

Your body was sensitive, that even though his thrusts were slow yet deep, the constant action of his cock plunging into your depths had you mewling. Zayne began to whisper your name, and that was enough for you both to reach your peaks. He came inside you with his thrusts getting sloppier by each minute, and you shut your eyes close as his warmth started to drip outside your pussy. 

Zayne pulled out, gently turning you to your side to face him. He was looking at you softly, a shy smile decorating his sleepy features as he muttered out, “Hi.”

“Hello,” you greeted back as softly as he did. “Did you miss me?”

“So much.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he soothed, sitting up before helping you to do the same. “Just promise me you’ll spend the night.”

Now that you could promise. “Sure. Jenna let me off the hook anyway.”

Zayne’s eyes lit up at the thought of that, and soon you both made your way to his kitchen where he started whipping up breakfast. You winced at the bloodstains you’d left, making a move to wipe it off, but he reprimanded you to just sit down and do nothing. You apologized when he cleaned it up rigorously. He only winked at you, and you moved to plop yourself on his counter as you watched him cook. Zayne let the eggs boil for a while, and you watched him cross legged with your face cupped in the palms of your hands. He turned to stare at you, his face unreadable.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you asked, feeling self conscious as you touched your face. “Do I have something on my face?”

He shook his head, walking towards you and placing his arms beside your body before he kissed you. “You just,” peck “look,” peck “so,” peck “cute.” By the time he moved on to peppering your face with kisses, you were giggling in his hold, your legs naturally wrapping around his waist .Zayne laughed at your poor attempts in trying to move away from him. 

“Stop!” you exclaimed in embarrassment, “You’re gonna spoil me!”

“Of course I’ll spoil you.” He stated, his hands keeping you in place to stop you from moving. You gave in to the strength of his hold and fall limp, the both of you falling silent as you just stared at each other looking lovesick fools.

“Kiss me again.” You mumbled, hands playing with the collar of his shirt. Zayne bent down to kiss you again.

“As you wish.”

You lost yourself in his lips for what seemed like the hundredth time since you met him, and it was his smell that completely intoxicated you. Zayne smelled like safety and comfort, and you were both laughing through the kiss when he suddenly pulled away.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, noticing the panicked expression of his face.

“I forgot the eggs!”

You laughed as he ran to his boiled eggs, whining once he saw the eggs had already exploded. He tried to redo them again after scolding you for always distracting him, and the rest of the day was spent cuddling next to each other on his couch while lazily surfing through Netflix. The day passed by in a blur until the sun had already gone down by the time Zayne noticed you yawning in his arms.

He kissed your cheek, hands lazily making circles at your hip. “You wanna sleep, baby?” You hummed in response, and he carried you effortlessly back to his bed before snuggling under the covers with you. 

You played with his hand, a small smile gracing your face as you placed it flat against his, and realizing his hands were bigger than yours. Zayne had several moles in his fingers that you loved, and he watched in silence as you admired his fingers. Moments like this were what he lived for, to see you happy and comfortable, but he couldn’t stop himself from uttering his next words.

“Will I ever have you?”

You paused, dropping his hand to the bed. Silence consumed the air as your eyes grew distant and Zayne started to wonder if what he said was wrong.

“One day,” you promised quietly, looking back into his eyes with a kindness you’d always kept hidden as your fingers started to comb through his hair. Zayne closed his eyes at the gesture. “You will. Just wait for me when you do.”

He nodded. “I’ll wait for you, no matter how long it takes.”

“I know.”

“I love you.”

You didn’t answer back.

Zayne wasn’t surprised when he didn’t see you for the next two months. 

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭

“I know, and you love me anyway.”

Zayne playfully glare at you, and you laughed, only to choke afterwards because of the pain that shot down at your body. Groaning, you rested your head back into the pillows, his scolding voice now back. “What happened to you?”

At his question, you closed your eyes contentedly, blindly pulling his hand back to your lips. “It doesn’t matter.”

“What do you mean it doesn’t matter?” He snarled, “You got shot–”

You opened your eyes, looking at him with so much happiness that you found difficult to contain. “What matters is that I’m all yours now.”

Zayne stilled, pausing in the act of bandaging you up. You expected him to be happy, but you almost sat up in worry when a tear fell from his eye as he stared at you grimly. “Zayne, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he cried, wiping at his tears before finishing your bandages up quickly and crushing you into a hug, still careful not to hurt you. “I just–are you serious?”

“Yeah! I’m free from the gang.” You pulled away to look back at him, wiping his tears away even as he laughed to say the words he’d always been waiting to hear, “I love you too.”

How fitting, you thought, that Zayne was a doctor, because he had stitched up all the broken and missing parts of you together until he made you whole. And it was his stitches and kisses that brought you back to life.

[elikajinnie]

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･ 𝙠𝙞𝙨𝙨𝙚𝙨 𝙨𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙙 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙅𝙖𝙠𝙚

pairing: sim jake x f!reader ✿ warnings: fluff, kisses, suggestive content, just jake being jake ✿ synopsis: jake watching you do your makeup ✿ a/n: i was doing my makeup today while listening to daydream... and this just spawned, took me about 5 min. Like you can NOT tell me this man is not a great kisser.

Jake sits on the edge of the bed, his eyes following you as you move around the room, gathering your makeup. He’s got that look on his face—the one where he’s all soft smiles and quiet admiration, like he’s forgotten everything else just watching you. You’re focused, picking out the right shades and brushes.

You sit in front of the mirror, carefully applying the finishing touches to your makeup, with Jake lounging on the edge of your bed behind you. His gaze is a constant warmth on your back, his attention never straying as he watches you get ready. You catch his reflection in the mirror, and the intensity in his gaze makes your heart skip a beat. He’s leaning forward, elbows on his knees, completely engrossed in watching every move you make.

He lets out a low chuckle when you finally glance over and catch him staring. “What?” he says, smiling, feigning innocence as if he hasn’t been studying you with those warm eyes for the past few minutes.

“You’re staring,” you say, rolling your eyes with a smile. “Am I that interesting?”

“More than interesting,” he replies, his voice soft and a little rough.

The words are simple, but it makes your cheeks heat up.

When you finally lift the tube of lipstick, you notice how his gaze sharpens, honing in on the way you tilt your head slightly, how your lips part just so as you begin to apply it. You can almost feel the way his eyes follow each slow swipe of color, his head tilting a fraction as if he’s studying each detail with the precision of an artist. You notice him licking his lips, that subtle pull of his bottom lip between his teeth, as he watches you swipe the color along your own lips.

You can’t resist a smile as you meet his gaze in the mirror. “Jake,” you tease, “I’m never gonna finish if you keep staring like that.”

He grins, not even trying to pretend he’s not completely captivated. “I can’t help it. You look… well, it’s hard to look away.”

His words make your cheeks warm, but you do your best to stay focused as you finish up. “I’ll be done in a sec, and then I’ll come over. Just let me finish this, okay?”

Jake chuckles, low and easy, but you notice he doesn’t back off at all. Instead, he stands up and takes a few slow steps toward you, his hands sliding casually into his pockets as he watches you finish up. He’s close enough now that you catch the glint in his eye, the way his gaze dips to your lips every few seconds as you press them together to blend the lipstick.

“Seriously,” you murmur with a playful smile, turning to face him, “you’re worse than a distraction.”

Before you can say more, his hands find your waist, and he pulls you gently to your feet and into his arms. He’s warm, solid, and smiling in that way that tells you he’s enjoying every second of this. You gasp in surprise as he settles down in the chair himself, effortlessly guiding you onto his lap as his hands hold you close. The laughter in his eyes softens as he looks up at you, his thumb tracing lazy circles on your waist.

“Jake!” you exclaim with a halfhearted pout, though you make no move to leave his lap. “You’re gonna ruin all my hard work.”

He just grins, undeterred. “So? You can always put more on.” His tone is soft and playful, but his eyes are dark, his voice dropping to a lower register that sends a thrill through you. “But I don’t think I can wait another second without kissing you.”

You open your mouth to argue, but he’s already leaning in, one hand coming up to cup your cheek as his lips find yours. The kiss is soft, but it doesn’t stay that way for long—there’s a familiar urgency to it as he tilts his head, deepening the kiss, letting it linger until you forget about your makeup entirely. His thumb brushes along your cheek, and you lean into him, your fingers sliding up to curl in his hair, pulling him even closer.

When you finally pull back, breathless, you can’t help but laugh at the sight of him. There’s a distinct smear of your lipstick marking his mouth, bright against his skin.

“Now look what what happened,” you tease, tracing a finger along the faint lipstick mark left on his lips.

Jake chuckles, entirely unbothered as he shrugs. “I don’t mind if it means I get to kiss you.” He leans in again, pressing a light kiss to the corner of your mouth, his lips brushing over your cheek as he continues in a low murmur, “Besides, I think I wear this color well.”

You let out a laugh, playfully wiping at his lips even though he makes no move to stop you. “I’m holding you responsible if I have to redo all of this, you know.”

“I’ll buy you another tube,” he says easily, his arms wrapping around you a little tighter. He pulls you closer, his lips moving to your jaw, trailing kisses down to your neck, his breath warm against your skin. “Or… I could just keep you here with me. Not sure I’m ready to let you go anywhere yet.”

You sigh, but it’s playful, knowing full well you’re not going to resist him. “If you keep this up, I’m really going to have to start all over.”

“Fine by me,” he whispers against your skin, the soft brush of his lips sending a shiver down your spine. “Gives me more time to admire you.” He leans in, his lips meeting yours in another kiss, smearing even more of your lipstick as the kiss deepens.

You can't help but smile against his lips, the kiss is intense, a perfect blend of gentleness and urgency.

As you pull back, slightly breathless, Jake offers you the tube with a playful smile. "Here, put it on again," he says.

You take the lipstick, a little hazy from the passion of the moment, and begin to reapply it, your movements slow. Jake watches you, his eyes filled with admiration and desire.

Once you've finished, he reaches out and gently grabs the back of your neck, pulling you closer. His eyes meet yours, his lips finding yours once more.

When you pull back for a breath, Jake doesn't let you go. Instead, he trails kisses down your neck, his lips moving from your jawline to the sensitive skin of your collarbone.

Jake's hands roam over your body, his fingers tracing the curves of your waist and hips, as if memorizing every inch of you.

You can feel his breath against your neck, hot and heavy, as he takes the lipstick from your hand and holds it out to you once more. "One more time baby," he teases, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "I want to make sure it's perfect."

You giggle, a little hazy from the passion of the moment, and take the lipstick, reapplying it.

When you finish, he leans in, his lips meeting yours in another kiss. This time, he whines softly against your lips, his breath warm and intoxicating. The sound of his whining sends a shiver down your spine, adding an extra layer of intensity to the kiss. You moan softly, your body responding to his every touch.

"Mhm.. I could kiss you all day," he murmurs, his voice husky.

Suddenly, he pulls back, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Wait, let's fix that lipstick again," he says, pointing at your lips with a playful grin.

You giggle, and take the lipstick again, reapplying it.

Jake watches you intently, his eyes never leaving your face. He leans in, his breath warm against your neck, and whispers, "You know, I could watch you do that all day. It's like a work of art."

As you finish reapplying the lipstick, he reaches out and gently cups your face in his hands. "Now, let's continue where we left off," he said.

After reapplying your lipstick for what feels like the fifth time, you finally manage to pull yourself away from Jake, though it’s no easy feat. His hands had been gentle but persistent, holding you close each time you tried to move. Your lips are still tingling, slightly sore, and you can feel the warmth lingering on your cheeks and neck from where his hands had cupped your face.

The clock catches your eye, and you wince—realizing you’re way past the time you were supposed to leave.

Jake, on the other hand, looks anything but concerned about the time - utterly content, with a dazed, love-drunk expression on his face. His hair is tousled, and he’s still catching his breath, gazing at you through half-lidded eyes that are filled with a lazy, affectionate warmth. Smears of lipstick cover his face, dotting his cheeks, chin, and jawline in soft red marks that match the color of your lips. You even see a faint outline of your lips on his neck, just above the collar of his now slightly wrinkled white shirt. The pristine fabric is no longer spotless; your lipstick has left faded, pinkish stains around the collar and down the top button.

Jake reaches up and touches one of the lipstick smudges on his cheek, as if to savor the traces of you left behind, before letting it fall back to his side. He lets out a contented, slightly drowsy hum, a soft smile spreading across his lips as he mumbles, almost to himself, “You’re… so beautiful…”

You chuckle softly, shaking your head, feeling your own lips twitch into a smile despite your best efforts to stay focused. “Jake, I’m actually going to be so late,” you murmur, gathering your things, but even as you say it, you can’t resist glancing back at him again, taking in the mess you’ve left him in.

He looks completely kiss-drunk, staring at you with that same sleepy, adoring expression, like he’s half lost in a daydream. “Late?” he murmurs, sounding only mildly aware of what you’re saying. His voice is low, lazy, and rough around the edges, the kind of tone that makes you almost forget your hurry all over again. He reaches out a hand toward you, his fingertips brushing the air as if he can’t bear for you to leave.

“Mm-hmm,” he continues, his eyes trailing over you, taking in every little detail as if he’s memorizing it. “The most beautiful girlfriend… yeah… so beautiful…”

His words are soft, murmured almost to himself as he gazes at you, clearly more than a little love-struck. His gaze drops to your lips, and he grins as he sees the lipstick you’ve reapplied, his eyes darkening slightly with that familiar gleam. It’s enough to make you hesitate at the door, knowing exactly where that look can lead.

You roll your eyes but can’t help smiling as you grab your bag and finally tear yourself away, giving him a playful shake of the head as you do. His gaze never leaves you, that lazy, dreamy smile still playing on his lips, as if he’s too wrapped up in his thoughts of you to notice anything else. Just before you leave, you give him one last glance, taking in the mess of lipstick marks, the warmth in his eyes, and that soft, sleepy grin.

[hannamoon143]

♡ Stick together♡

genre: fluff, hurt/comfort, a bit angst?

husband! chan x pregnant fem. reader

wordcount: 2,1k

warnings: silly fluffy fluff stuff, crying, injury, blood, pregnancy (obviously),

a/n: Hii, hope yall like this. Now i will concentrate on doing a upcoming fall series, that will soon be announced. Have a great day<33 enjoy

not proofread

Could this day be possibly worse? Besides the fact that the morning nausea took over you, your boss also yelled at you for getting a sentence at your presentation wrong.All day long you had to smile and be polite, when your mood dropped with every moody person that you had to deal with. All you wanted now was to come home, eat something and snuggle up on the couch with chan. But since he was for sure working late, a drama would have to take his place.

Finally you reached your house, going in. You and chans daughter haneuls babysitter was standing at the door, slipping her shoes on.„Hey y/n, haneul is sleeping, she ate dinner and brushed her teeth after showering, so everything should be done.“

You smiled at the young woman, thanking her and saying goodbye She was haneuls babysitter for already a year, and never made problems. And since haneul liked her too, it was a win win situation. So now, she was leaving, and you quietly put your coat on the stove, and then went into the kitchen. Maybe you could make some ramen and then watch a drama. You looked at the clock. It was still going to be a while until your husband would come home. You sighed and started cooking your ramen.

Unfortunately you burned your hand by accidentally spilling the hot water onto it. Seriously? You cursed under your breath, rinsing it with cold water. It felt like everything that could possibly go wrong today was going wrong. You know it was probably just the hormones that everything riled you up so much today but you didnt care. Tears of frustration pricked at your eyes. You took a deep breath in, and tried to remind yourself that everything was okay.

You took out your favorite bowl out the cuppoard, the one Chan gifted you for your first anniversary. But you should have been more attentive, because in the next moment you slipped. The water that spilled down on the floor when you burned your hand earlier was in small puddles over the floor. You didn’t see it and stepped directly into them. Nothing happened to you, you managed to catch the edge of the kitchencounter, so you remained standing, but the bowl fell to the ground, and burst into too many pieces to count.

You stared down at the mess, the loud noise and sharp ceramic pieses everywhere had startled you, and you tried to supress the fact that you just ruined your favorite bowl. The bowl chan gifted you. With trembling hands you crouched down to the floor, trying to collect the pieces, but then you accidentaly cut yourself with one. It left a burning, sharp pain. You quickly let the pieces fall, yelping at the feeling. Soon the small line got covered in red.

It was too much. You couldn’t hold it together anymore. You slid down to the floor with your back to the kitchen counter, your throat tightening. Hot tears were running down your cheeks. This, everything was frustrating you so much. You were pretty sure it was mostly because of the hormones of the pregnancy. But that also didn’t stop you from feeling like this.  Helpless you wiped the blood of your hand with the hem of your shirt. Quiet sobs were escaping your mouth. You felt gross, a suffocating feeling in your stomach when you looked at the blood. You felt pathetic when you thought of the fact that you were sitting, crying on the kitchen floor

You should clean up, care fort he injury and just go eat, but something stopped you. You just remained on the floor, crying helplessly.

That was until you suddenly saw tiny legs standing in front of you. Your head perked up and you were surpised to see haneul standing there. Immediately you wiped the tears away, and put a small smile on.

„Hey, i thought you were already sleeping sweetie?“

She just looked at you, her eyes darting from your face, to the mess around you, and then to your bloody knuckle.

„What happened mommy?“ she asked, her gaze still looking around.

„Nothing sweetie, i just let the bowl fall, it’s okay, i’ll clean it up. Just go back to bed alright?“

She seemed to be thinking for a moment and then slowly shook her head.

„But you are hurt, and there is water from your eyes on your face.“

You could have almost laughed at her description of your tears. Then before you could say anything, she added:

„Is daddy home?“

The question caught you a bit off guard but you just shook your head at it.

„Really hannie, i promise i’m okay, you can go back to sleep. And you don’t have to tell daddy okay?“

She continued simply looking at you, her little brain seemingly thinking through her options. Without another words she tapped away, so you thought she finally was going back to bed.

But haneul didn’t even think about doing that, stubborn like she is, just like her father. She quietly tapped to the wardrobe, taking your phone out your coat.. She was proud she remembered your code from the one time when she looked over your shoulder. She searched for chan’s contact. She didn’t learn how to read yet, but when she saw the picture of her father she knew it was his contact. She tapped the call icon and put the phone to her ear. After a few ringings chan picked up, and haneul got excited when she heard her dad’s voice. You usually never let her call him while he is at work.

„Hey y/nnie, Whats up?“

„It’s me daddy!“ haneul happily cheered into the speaker.

„oh hi hannie, what’s up, do you need something? Shouldn’t you be sleeping?“ he sounded a bit concerned, not entirely sure why his little daughter would phone him at 8:30 p.m. when she should be asleep already.

Haneul ignored her dads scolding about being asleep and instead came to her point immediately.

„Mommy is crying in the kitchen right now, and her hand is red and everywhere around here are sharp pieces of the bowl she loves so much. Mommy said she is alright and i should not tell you, but you always tell me family sticks together, in good and in bad, so i had to call you right?“ The little girl nervously rambled, not sure if it was right that she called her dad.

Chan’s heart swelled a bit at her words that he had said so often before. Truly you and him raised a kind little girl. But then he quickly remembered the rest of her words, and got concerened again.

„Yes it was good you called me, i’m proud of you. But why is her hand red hannie? Do you mean she is bleeding?“

Haneul agreed and then chan was quick to tell her he would be there in ten minutes.

He took his things as fast as he could, leaving the studio. When his pregnant wife was sitting on the kitchen floor, bleeding and crying, something was not right, and he would not sit at work any minute longer.

As chan got home, haneul was sitting by the door, playing with a plushie. As she heard the door open she immediately jumped up.

„Come on daddy, i don’t think mommy has moved since i called you.“

Chan took his jacket and shoes off, haneul pulling at his sleeve. Then he went into the kitchen, taking haneul into his arms, so she wouldn’t get hurt by the sharp pieces of the bowl.

As you heard footsteps approaching you raised your head from your knees that you had tightly pulled up, only to see chan, looking at you with your daughter in his arms. He quickly sat her down on the counter and crouched down next to you, careful not to step onto the sharp things.

„y/nnie, baby what happened?“ he asked, his hand stroking some half dried tears away.

„I-i was just so…the bowl, it fell and… the whole day, it was so… and i got overwhelmed and it’s just-“ you stuttered, looking at him with glossy eyes.

He looked at you once more, taking in your tear streaked, exhausted face, the injured hand, the other one at your belly in a loving, protecting motion. It was clear that your day must have been tiring and you were exhausted and overwhelmed. His eyes softened and he didn’t hesitate, standing up and scooping you into his arms. Neither of you said something, and haneul just watched. Gently, chan carried you to the couch in the living room, laying you down. He told haneul to get you a blanket, and he was getting stuff to treat your injuries.The little girl brought you a fluffy blanket, and she tossed it messily over you, cuddling into your side herself. You wrapped an arm around her. Then chan came back with a bunch of bandage stuff. He wiped the blood of your hand, then desinfected it, at wich you hissed, and he mumbled soothing apologies. At the end he gently wrapped a bandage around your hand.  

„Does it feel better?“ Haneul asked, inspecting your hand now. She took your bandaged knuckles in her own tiny hand, and placed a little kiss on it. Your heart swelled at the motion and you nodded, tenderly stroking her head.

„Good because, you also always do that and it makes every ouch better.“ She explained with wild hand gestures.

Chan watched the scene. He felt such love and admiration for both his girls, and the little boy that didn’t even know him yet too.

„I’ll go clean up in the kitchen alright love?“ He softly said, kissing you on your forehead.

„Oh about that… It was the bowl you gifted me for our first anniversary.“ You said, the smile disappearing from your face again.

„Hey, i knew it meant a lot to you, but it’s alright hm? I can gift you a thousand more, if that would make you happy.“ He said with a smile, and then he stood up, going into the kitchen. You looked after him. How was this perfect loving man your husband?

You looked down at haneul, stroking her head. „Why did you even call your dad hannie?“

She gazed up at you, snuggling to you even more. „Daddy always says that family is always there for each other, if we are happy and laughing, but also if we are sad and crying.“ She said, proud to know her dad‘s words. Your eyes got shiny again. Just like chan before, you were so proud of your kind, little daugther, and that chan and you had the honor to be the parents of haneul.

Suddenly, she raised her head a bit and then laid it to your belly. „Mommy why does your belly feel so weird?“ She asked, sounding confused. It was so cute, you wanted to just hold this memory forever.

„You will get a baby brother haneul.“ You said, holding your breath. You weren’t sure how she would react. For a moment she stared at you, then at your belly, then at your face again. „And he is in there?“ she said, with a shocked face. You started giggling. „Yes he is.“ Haneuls face lit up. „Ohhh, then i’ll be the best big sister he ever had. Can we call him seungmin mommy? Like daddy’s dog friend! Or maybe doongie, like the cat from uncle minho!“  You laughed at her random name reccomendations. You were glad she was so excited.

Chan was done cleaning the kitchen so he was coming back, watching the heartwarming scene in front of him with a fond smile on his face. He walked over to you two again and sat down next to you on the couch. With a smile you cuddled up in his arms, him brushing his fingers through your hair in a tender motion. You continued holding haneul, all three of you snuggled up like this now.

 And haneul? She was holding onto your belly, protecting her little brother from this very first moment on.

This family was all you could ever want. A loving, caring husband, the kindest little daughter, and soon a little baby boy, that was looking exactly like chan, with the name Eunwoo. And as haneul said, you were a family, and family sticks together, in sadness as much as in happiness

a/n: tell me what u think of it<33, im sorry for roasting seungmin a bit :3 Also thanks to my @darqlys for letting me yap about my 100 different ideas, and helping me choose the right things<333

taglist: @lina-linny @0omillo0 @darqlys @onementally-unstabel-kid

[chosok-amo]

THE GIRL IS MINE : RYOMEN SUKUNA

you and sukuna have been broken up for three months, but it seems like he can’t take the break-up seriously and he tries to convince you to get back to him.

warning. non-sorcerer! sukuna, ex-boyfriend! sukuna, fluff.

it’s been three months since you broke up with sukuna, but life hasn’t gotten any easier. he’s relentless, calling and texting you as if nothing has changed. he still has a set of your keys, and although you’ve considered asking for them back, a part of you never has. instead, you just let him come and go as he pleases, all while pretending to ignore him every time he shows up uninvited.

as valentine’s day approaches, your friend asks you for a favor. she needs a gift for her boyfriend and wonders if you could pick something up for her. wanting to help, you agree and head to a nearby store, the weight of sukuna’s lingering presence dulling your mood.

the store is filled with romantic displays, everything draped in pink and red. you have a basket hooked on your arm as you wander the aisles, searching for something thoughtful and nice. you reach for a bottle of cologne, turning it in your hand, when that familiar deep voice cuts through your thoughts.

“looking for something, princess?”

your heart sinks immediately. you don’t need to turn around to know it’s him. sukuna. you grit your teeth, bracing yourself as the last thing you wanted today was for him to ruin your peace.

you slowly turn, meeting his cocky smirk. he’s standing there, casual as ever, like he’s done nothing wrong, like he hasn’t been making your life a nightmare since the breakup.

“i don’t remember inviting you into my day,” you mutter, tossing the cologne into your basket as if his presence isn’t already gnawing at you.

he chuckles, stepping closer. “you never had to. i always know where to find you.” his tone is laced with arrogance, the same arrogance that made you fall for him before you saw his darker sides. you roll your eyes, gripping the basket tighter. “what do you want, sukuna?”

he leans against the shelving, that smirk still on his lips. “just thought i’d see how my girl is doing, can a boyfriend do that?” he asks, feigning innocence. you know he’s as far from innocent as it gets. his eyes rake over you, studying you with a familiarity that makes your skin crawl. the store’s romantic atmosphere feels like a mockery with him here, tainting the air with his presence. you shift uncomfortably, trying to ignore the weight of his gaze.

you roll your eyes, already exasperated. “i’m not your girl anymore, sukuna,” you say firmly, turning your attention back to the cologne bottles in front of you. you unscrew the cap of one, taking a quick sniff, hoping to focus on anything but his presence.

sukuna doesn’t back off; he never does. leaning against the shelving, he watches you with that familiar, infuriating smirk still playing on his lips. you can feel his gaze burning into your skin, making your nerves bristle as you move from one bottle to the next, trying to act like he isn’t getting under your skin.

he lets out a low chuckle at your response, the sound sending a chill down your spine. “ah, but you’ll always be mine,” he says, a dark edge in his tone, as if it’s a warning. “you can’t just erase three years together, princess.”

he pushes off the shelving, walking towards you with an unwavering confidence. he reaches out, his fingers tracing the nape of your neck, causing you to shiver involuntarily.

his touch is possessive, just like it always was. he steps closer, his body invading your personal space. “you can pretend all you want,” he whispers in your ear, his breath hot against your skin. “but deep down, you know you miss me.”

he reaches around you, grabbing the bottle of cologne from your basket. he turns it in his hand, inspecting it with a mocking smirk. “you’re not buying this for yourself, are you?”

you look at him with a flat, unimpressed expression, resisting the urge to shove him away. his possessive touch still lingers, just like it always did, and the proximity is suffocating. “no, it’s for someone else,” you say bluntly, keeping your tone as neutral as possible. your patience is wearing thin, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing you rattled.

his smirk widens at your answer, as if he finds it amusing. he sets the bottle back in your basket, his hand still lingering. “aww, buying a gift for someone special? who is it, your little rebound?” he teases, leaning closer.

he’s intentionally trying to rile you up, and damn him, it’s working. his presence is overwhelming, and his taunts are a constant reminder of why you ended things in the first place.

sukuna’s voice drips with mockery as he steps closer, his smirk still in place. “so, this is what you’re doing now, doll? buying cheap cologne for other men?” you clench your jaw, rolling your eyes as you grip the basket a little tighter. turning to face him, your expression is flat and unbothered. “yup,” you reply sarcastically. “that’s exactly what i’m doing. must be a real shock for you.”

sukuna grins at your retort, amused by your attempt to brush him off. he takes another step forward, his face now just inches away from yours.

“oh, doll,” he says, his tone almost condescending. “i know you too well. you’re not buying that cologne for just anyone. you’re trying to make me jealous, aren’t you?” he reaches out, his finger gently tracing along your jawline, his touch sending a mixture of irritation and familiarity coursing through you.

you just sigh, turning away again. “whatever helps you sleep at night, sukuna.” you continue browsing, determined not to let him ruin your day more than he already has.

sukuna laughs, a mocking sound that irritates you even more. he follows you as you move down the aisle, his presence like an unwelcome shadow.

“oh, come on,” he says, his tone laced with mock disappointment. “you can’t even look at me anymore, princess?” he reaches out, taking the basket from your hands, forcing you to stop and face him. he holds it just out of reach, grinning down at you. “i think you miss me more than you care to admit.”

you hum in response, not even bothering to look up at him as he grins down at you. “if you say so,” you murmur, shrugging casually. you know better than to feed into his antics—he wants a reaction, and you’re not going to give him one.

instead, you let him hold the basket, walking further down the aisle and continuing your search for the gift. sukuna follows, as you expected, holding the basket just like he used to. you can't help but find the situation ironic; despite his cocky attitude, he’s the one carrying your things while you shop. in a way, it’s a win-win.

his presence might be irritating, but at least you don’t have to lug around the basket anymore. as you browse through more cologne options, you toss a few bottles into the basket without a word before moving to look for something else, fully aware that sukuna will just keep following you around like a shadow.

sukuna watches you as you wander down the aisle, his eyes studying you with a mixture of fascination and annoyance. he follows obediently, hands gripping the basket, as you add more items to it. he’s oddly compliant, and it annoys him that you’re not falling for his usual games.

“you’re not very responsive today, doll,” he comments, his tone a little harsher than usual. “not even going to give me a little fight?”

you grab a sleek watch from the display and turn to sukuna, ignoring his comment. his eyes narrow slightly in suspicion as you take his wrist, sliding the watch onto it without hesitation. he watches, surprised but intrigued, as you adjust the strap, examining how it looks on him.

“i need to buy my friend’s boyfriend a gift for valentine’s,” you say, your focus on the watch as you tilt his wrist to see how it catches the light.

the second the words leave your mouth, you don’t realize what you’ve just done—reassured his jealousy with an unintended confirmation. sukuna’s smirk returns, this time with a sharper edge. “so that’s what this is about,” he says, his voice dripping with amusement. “trying to make sure your friend's boyfriend looks as good as me, huh?”

you glance up at him, catching the glint in his eyes, but you refuse to let him rattle you. “just trying to see if the watch looks good,” you reply coolly, slipping it off his wrist. “not everything revolves around you, sukuna.”

sukuna’s smirk widens, his ego stroked by your admission. he watches as you slip the watch off his wrist, his gaze unwavering.

“aww, doll,” he coos, stepping closer to you. “you’re right, not everything revolves around me, but you used to.” he reaches out, his hand cupping your chin and forcing you to look up at him. “you used to be so focused on me. what happened to that?”

you meet his gaze, completely unimpressed by his touch, and stare at him for a moment. “you should ask yourself that,” you reply flatly, your voice carrying a note of finality. pulling your chin from his hand, you turn away without hesitation, walking toward another aisle as if his presence meant nothing.

sukuna watches you in silence for a beat, his usual cockiness lingering in the air. before turning down the next aisle, you glance over your shoulder at him, your voice casual as you ask, “what are you even doing here, anyway?” your question hangs between you both, a quiet curiosity beneath the surface.

sukuna follows you, his smirk faltering slightly at your continued disinterest. he takes a moment to answer, watching you as you browse through the aisle.

he takes a step closer, his voice low as he speaks. “i was shopping, doll. i saw you walking in and decided to come say hi,” he says, his tone betraying a hint of annoyance. he leans against the shelving, his eyes still roaming over you. “what makes you think i need a reason to be here?”

sukuna's eyes narrow as he watches you, his previous smirk replaced with a more intense gaze. the store around them seems to fade into the background as he becomes more fixated on the interaction.

his voice dropping to a low murmur. “i guess i just wanted to see how you've been doing.” he reaches out, his fingers gently brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “you look good,” he says, his touch lingering for a moment before he withdraws his hand.

you remain focused on the items in front of you, barely acknowledging his presence even as he steps closer. his touch as he brushes the strand of hair away doesn’t faze you, though you can feel the weight of his gaze on you, more intense than before.

“i’ve been fine,” you say, your voice distant, uninterested in entertaining his attempt at a deeper conversation. you glance at him briefly, your eyes sharp but calm. “thanks for the compliment, i guess.” you shift slightly, turning away from him and continuing to browse, refusing to let him pull you back into his orbit.

sukuna's annoyance grows as he sees your dismissive attitude. he's not used to being ignored, especially by you. he watches as you turn away, his gaze following your every move.

he remains silent for a moment before speaking up again, his voice laced with frustration. “you’re still mad at me, aren’t you?” he asks, the words more of a statement than a question. he steps closer again, invading your personal space as he tries to get a reaction out of you.

you stop in your tracks and turn to face him, meeting his frustrated gaze with calm indifference. “i’m not mad at you, sukuna,” you say, your voice even and unwavering. “i just don’t see the point in acting like your girlfriend anymore, because i’m not.”

your words hang in the air, and you can see the frustration flicker in his eyes. he’s clearly not used to you being this distant, this detached. you give him a small, almost dismissive shrug before turning your attention back to the shelf. “there’s no reason for me to be mad. it’s over. simple as that.”

you grab another item, turning away from him, fully expecting him to continue trying to push your buttons, but refusing to let him get under your skin like he used to.

sukuna's frustration turns into irritation at your nonchalant response. he can’t wrap his head around your cool, almost distant demeanor. he wanted a reaction, some sign that you still felt something. but you’re not giving him anything.

he grits his teeth as you turn away, your dismissive shrug like a blade to his ego. “it’s simple, huh?” he says, his voice edged with sarcasm. he steps closer once more, his body almost brushing against yours. “if it’s so simple, then why does it feel like you’re trying to make me jealous?”

his gaze roams over you, as if searching for some kind of crack in your composure. he’s never seen you this calm, this unflustered by his attempts to get a reaction. “buying valentine’s gifts for someone else,” he continues, his tone mocking. “that’s a low blow, doll.”

you let out an exasperated sigh, turning to face him with a tired look. “i already told you, it’s for my friend’s boyfriend,” you repeat, your tone flat and dismissive. “you’re really reaching here, sukuna.“

you shake your head and turn back to browsing, not even bothering to engage with his mockery anymore. it’s clear he’s fishing for a reaction, but you’re not giving him the satisfaction. “honestly, it’s getting a little old,” you add, your voice laced with irritation.

sukuna’s frustration begins to boil over, fueled by your repeated dismissals. he steps closer again, his body almost towering over you. “it’s old?” he repeats, his voice gaining an edge of anger. “you really think you can brush me off that easily?” he moves in, his presence demanding your attention. “you can’t just act like i don’t mean anything to you,” he says, his jaw clenching. “after three years, doll, you owe me more than this.”

you look up at sukuna, meeting his intense gaze with a sigh, feeling the weight of the conversation hang between you. his usual arrogance falters as his eyes soften. his hand comes up to cup the side of your neck, his touch unexpectedly gentle.

“just… let me apologize,” he says softly, his voice losing its edge. “let me talk first. let me make things right.” his vulnerability, rare as it is, catches you off guard. you can see the tension in his jaw relax as he waits for your response, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin. the desperation to fix things, to go back to what you had, is written all over his face. you hesitate for a moment, feeling the conflicting emotions stirring inside you.

sukuna’s grip on your neck softens, his thumb tracing a gentle circle against the skin. his eyes hold a vulnerability you've rarely seen, a look of genuine regret.

he takes a moment, collecting his thoughts as he speaks. “i know i messed up,” he says, his voice softer now. “i took you for granted, doll. took us for granted.” he steps closer, his body almost brushing against yours. “but i... i miss you,” he admits, his words hanging in the air. “i want you back.”

you stare at him, searching his eyes for any hint of sincerity. the regret in his voice, the soft touch of his hand, all of it feels so unfamiliar from the sukuna you knew—yet painfully familiar at the same time. as much as you hate him for what he’s put you through, the love you’ve carried for him hasn’t disappeared. three months wasn’t nearly enough to erase the years of memories, the moments where you felt like you were his whole world.

your chest tightens as you let out a soft, defeated sigh. “i hate that i miss you too,” you admit quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

you nod, more to yourself than to him, feeling the weight of your decision as you meet his gaze again. “fine,” you say, almost as if the word leaves your lips of its own accord. “ we can talk, but this… this can’t be like before, sukuna. i won’t go back to that.” your words carry a quiet warning, but the truth is, you’ve already surrendered.

sukuna’s expression shifts, the hint of a smile playing at the corner of his lips. he recognizes the surrender in your eyes, the defeat in your voice. he knows he's won, even if just a little.

he nods, accepting your conditions, his hand still resting gently on your neck. “no,” he agrees, his voice almost a whisper. “it won’t be like before. i'll make you fall in love with me all over again.” he steps closer, his body pressing gently against yours, the heat of him sending a shiver down your spine. he leans in, his breath warm against your skin as he speaks, his words a quiet promise.

“i’ll show you that i can be better, doll,” he says, his voice soft but firm. “i’ll earn your trust back, i’ll treat you right. i’ll be the one you fall back in love with.” he pulls back, looking at you with an intense gaze. “just give me a chance.”

you frown, the familiar feeling of annoyance bubbling up inside you. sukuna always knew how to worm his way back into your life, no matter how hard you tried to push him away. and the worst part? you always let him.

you roll your eyes, letting out an irritated groan. “you’re so annoying, sukuna,” you mutter, not even bothering to hide your frustration.

without waiting for him to respond, you turn on your heel and head towards the register, your footsteps a little heavier than usual. he follows, of course, still holding the basket as if he belongs there beside you. even now, with his promises and sweet words, he’s still the same—a force of nature, barging into your life whenever he pleases. but despite the frustration, you don’t tell him to leave. you never really do.

sukuna grins as you storm off to the register, following closely behind you. he watches as you try to maintain an air of frustration, but he can see through it. after all, he knows you better than you know yourself.

he remains silent, walking beside you as you make your way to the register. he places the basket on the counter, his presence looming over you. he can see the conflicting emotions playing out on your face, and it fills him with a twisted sense of satisfaction. as you pay for your purchases, he watches, waiting for your next move.

you can feel his gaze on you as you finish paying, the weight of his presence heavy in the air. as you turn to leave, he follows, his footsteps echoing behind you.

once outside the store, the cool air does little to soothe your irritation. you pause, turning to face him, your expression still guarded. “now what?” you ask, your voice carrying a hint of challenge. “you’ve successfully annoyed me into giving you another chance. what next, sukuna?”

sukuna grins at your question, enjoying the slight challenge in your voice. he steps closer, his body almost touching yours. “now, doll,” he says, his voice laced with a hint of mischief. “now i show you how good it can be between us again.”

he reaches out, his hand gently brushing your cheek as he lowers his voice to a whisper. “i’ll make you remember why you fell in love with me in the first place,” he promises. “and i’ll make sure you don’t regret giving me this chance.”

he leans in, his breath warm against your ear as he speaks, “i’ll court you proper this time around. dinners, outings, everything to show you that i’m serious about treating you right.”

he pulls back, his eyes roving over your face as if committing it to memory. “and if you don’t like it, you can walk away at any time, doll. i won’t stop you.” he waits for your response, his heart pounding in his chest, the anticipation making his blood run hot.

you fight the smile threatening to break through, biting your lip to keep it at bay. despite everything, there’s a part of you that’s amused by his persistence, his bold promises. “you better make it worth it,” you say, glancing up at him with a teasing smirk, “if you’re going to waste my time like this.”

his eyes light up, a glimmer of victory in them as he takes in your words. he leans in closer, his lips ghosting just above yours as he whispers, “oh, doll, I promise you—it’ll be worth every second.” you roll your eyes again, but this time, there’s a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of your lips. he’s annoying, but maybe, just maybe, you’re willing to let him try.

sukuna grins at your response, enjoying the subtle shift in the air between you. he can see the hint of a smile, the slight falter in your confident demeanor. he knows he’s getting to you, and it fuels his determination. he leans in even closer, his lips hovering just above yours, his breath warm against your cheek. “i’ll make it more than worth your time, doll,” he whispers, his voice low and enticing. “i won’t let you down.”

he pulls back, his eyes locked on yours, a silent challenge in his gaze. “let me prove it. give me this chance, and i’ll show you that i’m serious about winning you back,” he continues, his voice soft but firm. “i won’t let you down, doll.”

he reaches out, his hand gently tracing the side of your neck, his touch light and almost reverent. “i promise you,” he murmurs, “i can make you happy again.” he waits for your response, his heart pounding in his chest as he holds your gaze, hoping you’ll give him this chance.

you hum softly, the sound filled with a mix of satisfaction and surrender as you reach up to cup his cheek. his skin is warm beneath your palm, and you can feel the tension in him, the anticipation radiating from his body as he leans into your touch. “alright,” you whisper, your voice barely audible, your lips just inches from his. the weight of the moment hangs between you both, heavy and charged.

sukuna's heart races in his chest as you reach up to cup his cheek, his eyes locked on yours, intense and full of desire. he leans into your touch, the simple touch sending sparks of electricity coursing through his body.

he swallows hard as he processes your words, your soft agreement sending a wave of relief and hope through him. the corners of his lips slowly curl into a wicked grin as he leans in, his face just inches from yours. “you won’t regret this, doll,” he murmurs, his voice a low, seductive rumble.

sukuna's grin widens as he feels the heat radiating off you, his heart pounding in rhythm with the surge of adrenaline. wrapping his arms around your waist, he pulls you flush against him, the warmth of his body enveloping you in a cocoon of familiarity and desire.

there’s a moment of hesitation, a breath held in anticipation, before he leans in, capturing your lips with his. the kiss is fierce and possessive, igniting the fire that had long lain dormant between you. it’s as if the world around you fades away, leaving just the two of you wrapped in this intoxicating moment.

he kisses you deeply, pouring every unspoken promise and emotion into it, a desperate attempt to convey how much he truly wants you back. the taste of you, the feel of you in his arms, reminds him of everything he’s been missing.

sukuna grips your waist, his fingers digging into your skin as he pulls you closer, molding your body to his. the kiss is intense, filled with a mixture of desire, possessiveness, and a hint of longing. he kisses you with a fervor, his lips moving against yours with a hunger that resonates deep within him.

he pours his heart and soul into the kiss, his tongue tangling with yours in a familiar dance. his hands roam over your body, as if memorizing every curve and contour, as if trying to commit your taste, your scent, everything about you to memory.

he breaks away for a moment, panting slightly, his eyes dark with a mixture of desire and vulnerability. “i’ve missed this,” he whispers, his voice rough and filled with a huskiness that goes straight to your core. “missed you, doll.”

he presses closer to you, his body molding against yours like a perfect puzzle. his lips find your neck, trailing hot kisses down the sensitive skin, igniting a trail of fire in their wake. he bites down lightly, a low, possessive growl rumbling in his chest.

the heat of sukuna's lips against your skin sends a jolt of desire through you, but as his intensity escalates, a sudden rush of awareness snaps you back to reality. with a firm push, you create a bit of space, feeling the cool metal of a nearby car press against your back.

“sukuna,” you say, your voice a mix of annoyance and a lingering thrill, “we're still in public.” your heart races, both from his touch and the embarrassment of being caught in such a passionate moment surrounded by strangers.

he pauses, looking down at you with that familiar smirk, his eyes glinting with mischief. “what’s wrong with a little public display of affection?” he teases, leaning in closer, his breath ghosting over your lips.

you can’t help but roll your eyes at him, even as the corners of your mouth threaten to lift in a smile. “some people might not appreciate it as much as you do.” you try to sound serious, but the way he’s looking at you makes it hard to maintain your composure.

sukuna chuckles softly, clearly unfazed by your protest. “let them watch, then. they’ll only wish they had what we have.” he leans back slightly, just enough to gauge your reaction, his expression softening as he adds, “but i guess i can control myself... for now.”

the way he says “for now” sends another wave of excitement coursing through you, reminding you just how hard it is to resist him, even in public. you can’t help but roll your eyes at his confidence, a mix of amusement and exasperation bubbling up inside you. “you’re still a menace to society, you know that?” you retort, trying to keep your tone light despite the way your heart races.

sukuna grins at your playful push and your annoyance at being caught in a public display of affection. his eyes darkened with desire and a hint of mischief.

“oh, come on, doll,” he teases, his voice low and sultry. “where’s the fun in hiding our passion?” he leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers, “i’ve never been one to care about what others think. and you know damn well i have a hard time controlling myself around you.”

you shake your head, unable to suppress a smile as you look into his eyes. “you’re ridiculous. what are you trying to do, make everyone jealous with your terrible flirting?”

sukuna chuckles deep in his throat, his smirk growing wider. “you say ‘terrible’; i call it charming,” he replies, his voice dripping with confidence. “and if it makes everyone else jealous, then all the better. they won’t know what they’re missing.”

he dips his head, his lips brushing against your neck again as he murmurs, “but who cares about them? all i care about is how you react to it.”

you groan in annoyance, a mix of frustration and amusement bubbling up as his lips graze your neck again. “seriously? you can’t just help yourself, can you?” you retort, swatting him away playfully, though the warmth of his affection sends a thrill through you.

sukuna chuckles, pulling away just enough to look at you with that infuriating smirk still plastered on his face. “i can’t help it if you’re just too tempting, doll,” he replies, his voice teasing. he then leans down to press a soft kiss to your forehead, and for a moment, all the tension melts away. “but fine,” he concedes, a hint of mischief still lingering in his gaze. “i’ll lower the pda for now.”

he takes your hand in his, his thumb brushing over your knuckles as he leans in slightly, a playful glint in his eyes. “how about we go shopping for a dress for you to wear at dinner on our valentine’s night? i want to see you in something that makes you feel as special as you are.”

your heart flutters at the thought, and you can’t help but feel a smile tugging at your lips. “a dress, huh? are you planning on making a grand entrance or something?” you tease, raising an eyebrow as you try to gauge his intentions.

sukuna grins, his eyes sparkling with mischief and excitement at the idea of seeing you all dolled up in a pretty dress. “oh, doll, you have no idea,” he replies, his voice low and sultry. “i have grand plans for our valentine’s night. and let’s just say, you in a dress is just the beginning.”

he chuckles at your teasing, his hand still holding yours tightly as he looks down at you. “i’m going to do everything in my power to make sure you have the best valentine’s day you’ve ever had.”

sukuna starts walking to his car, his grip on your hand firm yet reassuring, you can’t help but feel a mix of anticipation and curiosity bubbling inside you. you glance up at him, the playful glint in his eyes making your heart race just a little faster. “alright, mr. mysterious,” you say, tilting your head slightly to study his expression. “where exactly are you planning on taking me?”

sukuna grins, his eyes gleaming with excitement as he leads you to his car. he opens the door for you, gallantly gesturing for you to get in before leaning against the car’s hood. he crosses his arms, a smug smile playing on his lips.

“that, doll, is a surprise,” he replies, his voice laced with a hint of playfulness. “but let’s just say it’s a place that’ll make you feel like a queen.”

as you settle into the passenger seat, sukuna makes his way around to the driver’s side, getting behind the wheel. he starts the car and glances at you, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “but don’t worry, doll,” he reassures, his hands confidently gripping the steering wheel. “i’ve got everything planned to perfection. tonight’s going to be a night you’ll never forget.”

you nod, feeling a mixture of excitement and nervousness at the prospect of shopping with him, knowing it’ll be a different experience than before. “alright, lead the way, charming rogue,” you say with a playful roll of your eyes, your heart racing at the prospect of what the evening holds.

sukuna laughs, his eyes flickering with amusement. “oh, doll, you’re playing with fire calling me that,” he teases, his voice tinged with both warning and promise. “but i’ll take it as a compliment.” he puts the car in gear and pulls out of the parking lot, his hands steady on the steering wheel. “just sit back and relax. i’ll have you looking like a goddess in no time.”