#typing on a phone be rough
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The funniest thing I can imagine is when they do actually come face to face with Superman it goes like: Match scooping Danny up and running, dropping him somewhere safe-ish for them and then immediately running back and going absolutely feral on Superman or something.
Or, alternatively, Danny's attention is occupied and Match fights Superman behind his back. He's not gonna win because Superman has had more access to sunlight, but still!
Anyways back on track.
Tim already got a picture of Batman before Robin training, now expect how much better he'll be with it. He wouldn't mean to but hr'd definitely scare the shit out of Danny and Match, seeing this, wouldn't really be holding back.
Funny how I just realized Match has no concept of morality and probably doesn't have a grasp on the concept of death either.
Annyways do you think Danny and Match are just... the local cryptids of the various libraries in Metropolis? Like, one day they appear in this one library and the next day they appear in one that's very far from said library?
It would be funny if they refer to them as cryptids (affectionate) because of their habit to just appear and disappear throughout Metropolis' libraries. Maybe they even have a bet on which ones they'll appear at next!
Another funny thing I thought of, like the hissing cat bit, so you think Match copies more animals than just that? He's already purring and hissing, why not add in a few barks here and there. So basically, what I mean is that Match bites when fighting, scratching and kinda just copies different animals because he, really, hasn't seen many people fighting to copy that.
Danny has an entire plan marked out in his notebook and clutches it like it's a lifeline because, well, it really is. Miraculously, the pen hasn't ran out of ink yet despite how often he's used it and, disregarding the guy Match either killed or severly injured, things are looking up for them!
He just needs a bit more paper to flesh out his plan and then avutally follow through with it!
Which is when tragedy strikes.
It was just so out of nowhere and Danny didn't think much of it. But he started to sniffling more, he started coughing and his body felt hotter even though he hasn't been out in the sun recently. Then he started sneezing a lot more and eww snot, it was harder for him to think and he was getting pretty sluggish too.
It took until a librian saying something that Danny realized.
Oh, he was sick.
He forgot that was a thing that happened and, really, who could blame him? Not Match, of course, he's too busy fretting over his little brother and doesn't know what do to. So he retreats back into the abandoned buildings and darkness of Metropolis to keep Danny safe until whatever... this is was over.
Which could be the perfect time for Tim to reenter the scene, along with the Young Justice, and offers aid to help Danny with a very distrustful and snarling Match.
Or, alternatively, Match was out trying to refollow the steps he took when Danny directed him to a place with food (the bin) abd, as much as he disliked leaving his little brother alone, they (more so Danny) needed to eat.
When he finally comes back Danny is gone. His tiny, kind, worrying, smart, caring little brother. Is gone.
So Match, already worried about his brother's seemingly random condition, for the first time since he was awake he feels scared and fear. Coupled all of that with his feral mind and pritectice big brother instincts.
Well.
You could say he would shed hiding and tear Metropolis apart is he coumd fine his baby brother.
Danny has been reincarnated.
Which was an odd thing to realize, it wasn't even a slow one he just... snapped into it one day. One moment he was staring at a wall out of boredom the next, well, he was staring for an entirely different reason.
It was a task for his now young -he thinks around three years old?- mind to work its way through the memories, but it wasn't like he had much else to do honestly. So, what does he know?
His name is Danny, like, his actual name and not just a moniker. He was once a halfa and he already knows he's going to be missing invisibility and intangibility. He, well, died. For like, a second time which actually makes sense because reincarnation-
Anyways.
He was a clone of two people from this thing called the Justice League which, weird name but probably some government or activist group. Wonder Woman and Superman. Which were pretty weird names to name your kids but eh.
He doesn't really remember much besides that from this life, or the one from before but he's an adult! He'll figure things out once he gets out of this containment tube thing.
Did he mention he was in a test tube? He's a tube baby now. He thinks? Or maybe it's more like he's being contained.
Whatever.
So he breaks out. Thank you apparent superstrength that he has no idea why he has but he's not going to complain! He then wandered around all of the other test tubes, able to remember just enough of English to see that yea, they're dead.
He probably was too, before he had memories zapped into him. Or a vegetable.
He then finds this really big container, checks it out, then opens it because the clone inside isn't dead!
'Project Match' it said. He'll just call him Match.
Was he thanked for helping him? Nope. You would think that he would be thanked or at least somewhat respected for saving this guy but nope!
He was, quite literally, held up by his leg and dangled in the air. Who dangles a three-year-old?! Well, he was technically and adult but still! The next few things were a blur but after pulling off the old Fenton charm he found him and Match outside as he tried to stop him from attacking random people.
Luckily the charms and privilege of the youngest (he's assuming he's the youngest, because he's physically three) was more than enough to get through to him. Sure, the guy couldn't form words, really aggressive for literally no reason, really weird but also absolutely cool looking eyes. But he worked around the first issue by developing their own personal language from like grunts and stuff, the second he once again used his youngest privilege to boss him around and the third a pair of sunglasses easily fixed.
He just had to steer Match clear of those random S crest mark thingies. Which was a weird thing to hate but hey, he's not there to judge.
#dc x dp#dp x dc#dpxdc#dcxdp#dp x dc crossover#dc x dp crossover#Danny fogot being sick was a thing#then got sick for once ti remind him#Match copies animals becauee he sees them more than humans funnily enough#again I love that art#typing on a phone be rough#forgot what J was phtting in tags so#gah#edit: just realized I left this in my drafts instead of clicking post SJSDBDJJSNSB
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some misc twst + pkmn doodles that are in varying states of completion--
(wips under here lol)
#twst#twisted wonderland#ram's art#jack howl#jamil viper#kalim al asim#art#im too tired to tag anything else rip#the scarbia doodles are a bit rough-- im sick rn and i dont have the motivation to finish them any better sry-#but this was relaxing to do so not a complete loss--?#... i also didnt check the colours of the scarabia pics on my phone so if they suck uhh no they dont uno reverse they're good promisee#oh and as for the pkmn picked uhhhhh#boltund is a DOG it RUNS 10/10 basically jack#anddd for kalim and was this close to choosing ludicolo (rain catching hat and dancing = partying ) but---#flygon seemed fun for him-- (goomy was picked soley due to the concept of kalim keeping the bud damp with his signature spell lol )#... (and i like goomy a lot)#thats all im typing now im gonna take a nap-#oh wait one more thing i guess congrats on jamil FINALLY getting to rest (his new jpn server b day card-)
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good news: i wrote a fic
bad news: i wrote a fic
#there are almost 40 pages to this 😭#I've been possessed#i don't have a computer at home to type this up only my phone 😞#writing problems#my writing#my photos#hello tis i#thankfully this is just a rough draft in every sense of the word but ohhhhh my goddddd#shut up ace#time for bed methinks#the character#can wait until tomorrow#yeah this is about#bobby nash#and#evan buckley#and i hqve all the regrets#anyway peace out y'all i am le tired#(zen take a nap. ZEN FIRE ZE MISS-ISLES!)#sorry sorry I'm sleepy#ciao pour now#some fucking guy named bobby#literally ruining my life since the day we met
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#THERE'S NO MORE LOOKING BACK IT'S LOOKING UP OR LOOKING DOWN!#Nevermind me The Normal Album is one of the few I have downloaded on my phone#two deaths related drawings#Finish tagging later#God I hate typing on phone#Rough
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I got ONE person's verbal confirmation so I'm gonna fucking DO IT.
Comence me talking about how I relate very much to Roger.
Oh yeah and like. Major spoilers for Roger's route dlc
RAAAHHGHGH this route HURT me. Doggo why do you always manage to make me cry with every game you release... it's my curse...
Anyway, so, Roger! Absolutely love this guy, he's so silly and sweet. He might be a little..... slow, sometimes.... (he did in fact accept a USB that supposedly could let you play vr games on your pc WITHOUT a headset. Like I love you man, but get AHOLD OF YOURSELF.) But overall he's a very sweet guy.
Which is why I don't understand why I RELATE to him SO MUCH.
This scene, right here.
FIRST OF ALL, ROGER, STOP IT RIGHT NOW.
This scene hurt a little too much because I've felt this EXACT same way. Looking in the mirror and seeing someone you hated, someone you could barely recognize. I HATE MIRRORS.
This one, too:
Feeling like you need to be your best self, not for you, but for them. Because if you're not there to help, who is? Why would they trust you ever again if you screw something up?
Trying to do something you feel you can't do, just to help them. For their sake. Like if I don't do this right, they'll be the ones paying the price.
NEXT!
..so uhm WHY. WHY ARE YOU ATTACKING ME RIGHT NOW
I felt like this for a long time before I got better, I sometimes still do. Feeling like I don't matter, like no one would miss me if I just disappeared. I even tried to disappear a few times, didn't turn out great.
Luckily I have family and friends that helped me heal, and feel better about myself as a whole! I still have those days when I feel small and useless, but I always have someone to help me out, and I honestly couldn't be more grateful to everyone who's helped me get to this point.
Including my beloved mutuals, the majority of whom I've never spoken to. You've all done more than you know. Love you guys
BACK TO ROGER
This little wet sock of a man makes me so happy. He's so silly and goofy and you can tell he truly cares for all of his friends no matter what. I'm glad he got the ending he deserves and realized that he's good just as he is.
Just like I did.
#WOW this was a rough one to write.#randy analyzes shit#randy yaps#randys late night rambles#dialtown phone dating sim#roger dialtown#roger jones#dialtown roger#dialtown dlc#dialtown dlc spoilers#past self-hate#self hate#self care#i hate tagging#get this over with already randy#relatable characters#rant post#i ate a sandwich while typing this#very yummy
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Girl, please stop saying sorry and thank you it's okay. I im OVERJOYED to help someone in need. Please I mean this with love, you stranger
#girl came into my store and needed my phone at first to call someone#then no one was gonna pick her up#idc how much the uber is. girl keep your money you are having a rough one. please let this one be on me#ik you see i work a fast food job but its okay i have extra money JUST for this type of shit#orange is typing...#i hope she gets where shes going okay. i coyld only help her eith an uber but still#anyways hey im off of work finally lol. the rodeo is finally done with
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Have these super quick doodles that I made while testing new brushes, it’s Curt and Owen from the fic I’m working on where they accidentally end up in 2024 with no way back. I just love the idea of Curt being super into social media and Owen just not really getting it (Curt likes to mess with the filters lol)
Anyway I haven’t found a decent style or design for these guys yet so they’re always different when I draw them until I’ll someday find a design I like, so they definitely won’t stay looking like this if I post more art in the future
#spies are forever#curtwen#saf#doodles#owen carvour#agent curt mega#idk I just like the idea of them trying to navigate current day#I also have a really rough sketch of Curt just having a this is fine type panic attack on the couch#’cause he suddenly realised that their phones and Alexa and whatnot are basically spying on them#like Chimera seriously won that#And Curt was super about to kill Owen before then ended up in the future#But it would have been for nothing#Because Chimera succeeded anyway
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resisting the overwhelming urge to unblock my abuser and scream at him for an hour
#i know if i do i'll just make shit worse#but despite everything he's done to me i still miss his company#bc for 9 years we talked on the phone nearly every night#and he helped me through some really rough patches in my life#and despite all of the SA i endured every time we hung out in person#it was still affection to me. no matter how much he physically and mentally abused me#at least i was still being given affection or something resembling it#he made me feel wanted by wanting to hang out with me so much#and i just. Miss him. only in the way of having someone to talk to#bc now i have literally nobody except an annoying online friend#and nobody in person. my best friend isnt rlly the type of person to call or text so i dont rlly have her for that#i just. feel like i'm not wanted and i crave the affection and touch i received from him#no matter how abusive or traumatizing#and i'm so afraid that if i call him then he's going to talk me back into the relationship#and then i really WILL get seriously injured from a fucked up fantasy of his#i'm terrified of going back. of confronting him. but i want closure#so fucking badly#and to scream at him until i go hoarse and unleash my rage on him#but he knows how i work mentally. he knows all the right things to say to lure me back#but i've been having horrible nightmares about him again nearly every night#and if i confront him then maybe they'll stop and i'll finally#have some sense of peace
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e s p r e s s o
⋆ TAGS — boxer!jk, he’s a fanboy, pouty jkkkkkk, oc’s a idol, sugar daddy elements, fluffy, rom-com vibess, jk’s secretly a little sub who loves praise, praise kinks, making love, jealous!jk, possessive!jk, rough sex, pussy-eating, unprotected sex, creampies, very light dirty talk, oc’s a tease, jk just loves oc, some violence (nothing serious jk punches a guy), oc’s a pillow princess, mainly dom!jk, subby!oc who is a menace, jk is super protective and a good bf, he beats someone up for you, tit play
⋆ WORD COUNT — 14.6 k
Jeon Jungkook was many things—charismatic, “lover boy”, charming—but the biggest one of all: a pain in the ass (for Yoongi). Jungkook was the type of guy to do whatever he wanted WHEN he wanted.
The kid had a strong backbone, Yoongi will give him that but it was an absolute nightmare dealing with the press for someone like Jungkook. Yoongi can count on his fingers how many times Jungkook’s gotten into heat for his loud ass mouth. Sometimes not all publicity was necessary whether it was good or bad in Yoongi’s opinion (not that anyone’s ever asked).
“Where is he? That little shit–” Yoongi growls behind gritted teeth as he storms through the gym towards the private training room Jungkook usually practiced in.
He slams the door open and locks eyes with his target, “There you are–!”
Jungkook stops in his tracks and turns around in surprise, “Hyung?” He’s confused as fuck because he’s been behaving himself lately, sooo what did he do now? “Yoongi hyung—ow! What the hell was that for?”
“How many times did I tell your ass to keep your little flings under the radar? I told you: if you’re gonna be fooling around with people do it on the down low but no, you just gotta fucking let the world know huh?” Yoongi seethes, literally trembling with rage from where Jungkook stands.
Jungkook makes a confused noise, “But I didn’t–”
“Then, what. The. Fuck. Is this?” Yoongi slaps his phone in Jungkook’s face, on it there’s some tweet with an article linked to it.
Jungkook squints his eyes mumbling under his breath as he reads the tweet out loud, “..Idol l/n y/n caught in a dating scandal with infamous boxer Jeon Jungkook–what’s the big deal though, everyone usually ignores these types of things.”
Yoongi looks like he wants to scream, “Kid you realize you’re a celebrity right?” Nod. “Okay, and she’s a celebrity too right?” Nod. “So why in the FUCK wouldn’t this be a big deal? I mean, it’s not like we’re not talking about the nation’s ‘sweetheart’ here, the country’s fucking pride and joy.” He really needs a fucking smoke right now.
“Hyung it’s just a fucking rumor she probably doesn’t even care or know about it, I don’t see why you’re stressing out. Not like I know her either,” Jungkook carelessly says as he throws a few punches at the bag, “you’re gonna end up bald with how you’re stressing right now.”
Yoongi takes a deep breath, in, out, in, out. “Because, idiot,” emphasis on the idiot, “this shit is getting out of control, you have any idea how many fucking news outlets are talking about this? For fucks sake the entire country is in shambles cause their ‘precious’ y/n is supposedly dating some lowlife boxer, no biggie really it’s not like I haven’t been getting threats either over this little stunt of yours.” He glares.
Jungkook lets out an exasperated sigh as he stops in his tracks, “Hyung I didn’t do anything, so fucking what if I posted a pic with my photocard, it’s MY photocard! Don’t her fans do that shit too, so why is it a problem that I do it too?”
“Because people think you’re dating now! They think you’re soft launching her or something!” Yoongi tugs at his hair, “You realize if people find out you fucked with her just to get in her bed they’re gonna lose it and not just on her but you mainly. You want a fucking witch hunt out for you? Because you know damn well they love her more than you.”
“Ouch.” Jungkook grumbles petulantly.
“No, ouch, use your fucking brain think about the damage you’ll take all because you wanted to fuck their little princess.” Yoongi glares.
Jungkook’s almost offended that Yoongi would think of him like that. Sure he had his fair share of groupies and models but Jungkook wasn’t a complete asshole about it! He had feelings too, he’s not sorry that he was fucking casually like any other normal person who was looking to unwind. It also isn’t his fault that they labeled him a playboy.
In the eyes of the public Jungkook was a menace as there were rumors of him knocking models up and cheating on the girls he’s ever gotten spotted with. Everyday he woke up and there was something new that came out whether it was him “dating” or his flings coming out to talk about their one night stands.
Needless to say he didn’t have the best public image.
“Okay let me stop you there, I’m not after her for sex or anything. If you really want to know, I'm actually interested in her. I wanna get to know her some more and take things further y’know?” He huffs and wipes the sweat off his brow with his shirt.
Yoongi scoffs, “Yeah right, I’ll believe it when I see it.” As he finishes his sentence the door opens and Namjoon pops in with Seokjin, the two team members hauling in some duffle bags in tow.
“What’s going on? The hell Yoongi look so red for?” Namjoon huffs as he drops the bag gracelessly, “Jungkook what did you do now?” He clicks his tongue in disappointment, tutting him like a misbehaved child.
Jungkook’s mouth drops open, this traitor! He’s supposed to be on his side, not Yoongi’s. Seokjin interrupts with a loud cackle, “What didn’t he do?” Another traitor! Jungkook can’t believe this, his own hyungs against him.
“Long story short Romeo over here is in a dating scandal—not with just anybody though, fucking l/n y/n. Y’know, the poster child.” Yoongi spits harshly, shooting Jungkook another pissy look while he’s at it.
Namjoon’s mouth drops open in shock, Seokjin actually looks pretty terrified too which is funny because if only he could see the face he’s making right now.
“No way you’re insane for that, shit good luck with the press because they don’t play about their little popstar.” Namjoon manages to utter once the shock passes.
Jungkook glares, “I didn’t do anything! They’re mad I’m showing off my photocard, I bet you that they’re jealous because they don’t have this one.” He huffs and thrusts his phone out to show them his phone case.
“What exactly did you do?” Seokjin laughs.
“Nothing! I posted a mirror pic and I didn’t expect a bunch of crazies to over analyze shit and spot the photocard. Not like it’s MY fault people make up narratives and shit.” Jungkook rolls his eyes and tucks his phone away safely in his pocket, “But you know what, just wait and see.”
“Wait and see what?” Namjoon snorts in amusement.
“Hyung doesn’t believe me but I’m serious about her, I’m gonna ask her out and from there maybe talk and get to know each other. One thing for sure she’s gonna be my girl unless she slaps me in the face and tells me to leave her alone or somethin,” Jungkook grins as he elbows his still pissed off manager.
Seokjin looks at him with a shit-eating grin, “Sure let me know how that ends up going for you.”
Jungkook purses his lips, “You’ll see..”
𓂃 ゚。 ⋆ ⟡
They end up in Miami for a boxing match Jungkook has pending but his opponent ended up coming down with something so it got canceled. Now Jungkook has no clue what to do for an entire week and it doesn’t help that he’s jet lagged, hungry, and tired. Not a good combination.
“Did they say when the match will be back on?” Jungkook mumbles boredly from his spot on the lounge chair in his hotel. He’s slumped over scrolling down his phone looking at random shit on his feed.
“Hard to tell Kook, apparently the guy’s really sick and can barely get outta bed or somethin’. They said it was better to wait it out for a week and see what happens with him.” Yoongi sighs deeply, “Fuck, just our luck too.”
Jungkook nods in agreement, “What do we do now hyung? Do we go back or..?”
Yoongi takes a seat on the opposite side of him with a shrug, “Dunno, do whatever you want since the match is canceled. Me and Joon gotta stay back to talk with the event organizers and shit.”
He goes quiet for a few moments before sitting up, “Oh wait there’s an award show going on right now, they sent me an invite for you but I don’t know if you wanna go or not.”
“Award show?” Jungkook makes a face but what other shit does he have to do? It’s not like he’s got a match anymore anyways, maybe the after party will be cool or something. “I guess, why do they want me there?”
“Appearances for the press—you know, the usual.” Yoongi hums.
Jungkook’s lips are pursed as he looks around deep in thought. DOES he wanna go? It’s not like this would be the first time they’ve asked him to make an appearance but Jungkook doesn’t really like these types of things. Red carpets and interviews are so tedious and time consuming.
Wait—
“Hyung!” He suddenly gasps, “Holy shit—pass me my suit.” He says as he bolts away into the bathroom.
Yoongi looks at him in confusion, “What..kid what the hell are you on?” He snorts, “Don’t tell me you’re excited to go to this thing.” Nonetheless he still takes out Jungkook’s suit for him and lays it on the bed.
“No you don’t understand,” Jungkook cuts off as he splashes his face with water, “y/n is probably gonna be there!”
“y/n—Jungkook really?” Yoongi groans, “I thought you were playing around last time, I didn’t think you were actually serious about it.”
Jungkook holds back his whine, “Hyung you always think I’m playing around, why isn’t anyone taking me seriously about her! I swear I have good intentions.”
“I dunno, maybe cause you have a habit of sleeping with anything that walks and looks pretty to you. Or maybe the fact that you’ve done this before. Should I remind you of that one model from Cancun?” Jungkook pouts, “Or the bartender chick from LA?” His pout deepens, “Or the girl from Paris?”
“Okay I get it!” Jungkook grumbles, “But this time I’m serious hyung, more than I ever been about someone—especially her.” He says with a sigh while changing out of his clothes and into the suit Yoongi laid out for him.
Yoongi sighs deeply, “Look all I’m saying is to be careful how you go about this, it’s a lot at stake right now not just because of you being involved with her but the fact that the public has their opinions about you already as it is.”
Jungkook appreciates the sentiment but he doesn’t need anyone to approve or disagree about his feelings. The public didn’t deserve any explanations over what Jungkook chooses to do with his life, he’s here to fight and that’s it. Not to be anyone’s marionette or dress-up doll.
“I know hyung, thanks.” He smiles back and slips his blazer on, “I’ll text you later on and tell you what happens.” Yoongi doesn’t reply verbally rather with a low grunt, “See ya.” Jungkook says with a final grin and heads out of the room down to the main lobby and into a car Yoongi had waiting for him.
On the way to the venue he checks out the award show on Instagram, he sees a lot of people he recognizes and a few new faces. His eyes scan over the page eagerly in hopes of seeing you on there. Are you performing tonight? Were you already there on the red carpet? Oh he bets you look absolutely divine tonight (you always do).
“Yes!” He says a bit too loudly startling his driver in the process as he sheepishly apologizes.
Jungnkook finally comes across a post about you and he reads over the caption with an excited hum, biting his lip when he sees that you are performing after all. He’s getting a mean adrenaline rush right now like the ones he usually gets before his matches. Just thinking about how he’s gonna get to meet you tonight is getting him all worked up. He wonders if you’ll even give him the time of day.
Only one way to find out.
.
“Jeon over here!”
“Jeon, look here!”
“Jeon, is it true you and y/n are dating?” Jungkook makes a point to ignore this and act like he didn’t hear it even though he’s screaming on the inside.
The red carpet’s full of singers and models, the fans are screaming and reporters keep getting in his damn way as he tries to make his way through the crowd. Of course he stops for a picture or two with a fan, poses for the paparazzi too but he’s not concerned with them right now. He knows he must look a little lost with the way he keeps looking around like he’s trying to find something (yeah, you).
Jungkook almost frowns like a child who didn’t get their way once he sees you’re not anywhere in sight. You probably already headed inside which sucks cause he really wanted to see you beforehand since it was probably arranged seating in there. At this rate he won’t be able to even say hi–
“Oh shit, my bad.” Jungkook says when he bumps into someone behind him. He turns around to apologize properly when his heart fucking stops. Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod—it’s you.
You look up at him with those dreamy eyes of yours, face scrunched up cutely (your lips pouty) in confusion as you tilt your head up (UP!) to look at him, “Um, you’re stepping on my dress.” Even your voice is so prettyyy.
“Sorry my fault,” Jungkook steps back and kneels down to fix the rumpled state he left it in, vaguely aware of the fast flashing (the paparazzi must be eating this up), “lemme make it up to you though.” He says once he comes back up.
You tilt your head, “And how would you do that?”
“I’ll buy you a new dress.” Jungkook’s dead serious too, if you asked him to buy you a whole house he’d do it in a heartbeat. Take everything at this point—have it.
“And who said I want you to buy me things?” You muse softly.
Jungkook chuckles softly and leans down to talk in your ear because the crowd’s getting louder and it’s hard to talk to you, “Don’t be like that, if you let me take you out I’ll show you all the things I can buy you.” He murmurs low, voice husky.
You tilt your head to look at him, eyes dropping down to his lips and then back up as a coy smile plays at your soft lips, “You’re funny.” You pat his cheek with a soft manicured hand and walk away.
His heart nearly skips a damn beat when you do that. Oh he swears he can still feel your soft hand sliding over his cheek when you walked away from him like the little tease you were. He doesn’t know how long he stands there until he gets moving, a stupid grin on his face the entire time as he replays the moment over and over again in his head.
Jungkook’s not gonna lie, this little cat and mouse game that just started has him eager for more. He’s so getting your number by the end of the night, call him delusional but he swears you’re digging him too with the way you checked him out just now.
He spends the entire night throwing a few sneaky glances your way, hell when you got on stage to perform he nearly folded then and there. Everything about it—sultry gaze, soft husky voice, and sensual body rolls—was perfect. Jungkook don’t even care that people are watching him ogle you in 4K, he doesn't bother to hide the fact that he likes what he’s seeing right now.
To make things worse you pass by his seat and shoot him a dazzling little smile, waving your fingers coyly at him which makes the people go wild. Oh he’s in love. Jungkook makes a point in looking for you afterwards at the afterparty. You’re changed out of your outfit from earlier, now in a pretty babydoll and your little Prada loafers.
When he makes eye contact you shoot him a smile, “Thought I’d wear something you can’t step on again.”
Jungkook snorted softly, “I already told you, I dunno why you’re being stubborn, quit playing and let me take you out already.” He says smoothly and wraps his arm around your waist, surprised that you don’t push him off or anything.
You look him up and down with a soft hum, “Mmmm I’m kinda in the mood for some paella.”
“Then let’s go.” Jungkook’s ready, he will literally drop everything to get you some paella.
“Not from here though, I hear it’s way better in Spain.” You wrap your arms around his neck, tugging him down so he’s eye level with you, “So unless you’re willing to take me to Spain, I’m not going anywhere.”
Jungkook licks his lips, “Fuck it, let’s go.” He starts leading you away, peeping the way you look surprised, “What?” He laughs.
“You’re serious, right now?” Once you recover from the initial shock you smile at him with a quiet giggle, “You’re crazy.”
Oh he just adores that cute eye-smile of yours, “Let’s get you some paella yeah?”
It’s a nine hour flight you both impulsively leave on with no bags, didn’t even tell your managers, and only your phones and wallets. No one questions when Jeon Jungkook walks through first class hand in hand with you trailing close by, you’re even wearing his blazer over your shoulders because you complained about how chilly it was.
Jungkook’s smiling like an idiot the entire time he’s sitting with you in the first class cabin. You don’t seem to mind how touchy he is so he keeps an arm over your shoulder so you’re pressed close to his side. He nearly screams when you lay your head on his shoulder and doze off into a peaceful slumber.
You left Miami around one in the morning and got to Madrid at nine with Jungkook booking you two a room at the infamous Four Seasons hotel. You knock out with him for a few more hours until you’re complaining about your paella.
“Hurry up, I'm starving and you promised me my paella.” You grumble and poke at his face.
“Yeah, yeah I’m awake.” Jungkook murmurs calmly as he rolls out of the bed to make himself presentable.
Jungkook feels like he’s in a dream right now, god this better not be because the sight of you looking so happy in front of him while eating your beloved paella is one for the books. Your little brunch date turns into a shopping date because you complain you don’t wanna be wearing clothes from yesterday since the two of you decided to stay in Spain for the weekend.
He has a goofy smile on his face as he swipes, taps, and inserts his black card at different stores you drag him to. He lets you spend his money how you want to, relishing in the way the BVLGARI store worker’s eyes nearly bulge out of their head when Jungkook pays for a forty-eight thousand wrist watch, all for you.
“Doesn’t it look pretty?” You grin softly while holding your wrist out to him.
Jungkook gently takes your hand in his and admires the watch, “Perfect, really suits you.” He grins softly as he thanks the employees and heads out with you to another store to see what you find.
By the time Sunday comes Jungkook’s spent well over one-hundred grand on you but does he care? No, not really because he did say he’d show you all the things he’d buy you. Jungkook doesn’t wanna go back to Miami but Yoongi’s bitching at him to go back because apparently his opponent got better and the match was back on and set for Tuesday the earliest.
“Let me make you mine already.” He finds himself mumbling low in your ear as he tugs you into a loose hug, not caring that you two were standing in the middle of the airport about to board different flights back (of course he pays for your first class ticket home).
You look up at him with coy eyes and a soft little smile on your glossy lips, god he just wants to kiss the fuck out of you but he doesn’t because you haven’t give him the okay for anything past non-sexual intimacy which he’s fine with because he does wanna take time to get to know you.
His breath hitches when your finger comes up to trace over his lips gently, “Cute.” You don’t say anything else and walk away after the intercom announces your flight. You leave him standing there in the middle of the airport, dreamier than ever but sadly it’s cut short by his phone ringing.
“Where the hell are you?” Yoongi growls.
“Calm down hyung, I’m boarding in a few minutes.” Jungkook sighs as he rolls his eyes, “I got so much shit to tell you.” He smirks to himself and begins walking.
𓂃 ゚。 ⋆ ⟡
Sometime into the next week when Jungkook lands back in Korea he asks for your number through Instagram. He’s kinda surprised you gave it to him instead of dodging him like before, nonetheless he’s happy and giddy about it. He quite literally looks like a schoolgirl kicking her feet in bed texting her crush, that’s how he feels like right now.
You’re a quick texter which he likes and you don’t seem to mind him spamming so that’s even better. Jungkook spends his week giggling over dumb shit (it’s not) you say which has Seokjin making fun of him for it, which speaking of them they still couldn’t believe Jungkook pulled you.
“No way let me see.” Seokjin had demanded, “You’re lying, she would never, she looks like she has standards.” Jungkook can’t tell if he’s jealous or something, maybe he’s a secret stan too who knows.
Jungkook long established he was down bad for you ages ago but this just took the cake, a whole new level of simping. It starts when Jungkook decides to post a training video of him boxing/training, he goes viral and trends for a week because in the background he’s playing one of your songs. He’s got a shit ton of people calling him a “girly pop” or “cunty boxer” but most tell him he knows what’s up.
He doesn’t know but by him doing that it opens a new door to your developing relationship because you start asking him to do things for you. It starts with you telling him to change his profile picture with a pic from your latest comeback (he gets made fun of by your fans but he doesn’t care).
Then you make him tweet: “stream y/n for clear skin” while promoting your music video through him (again he’s a laughing stock). The nail in the coffin is when you prettily request him to wear a shirt from your merch collection after one of his boxing matches.
“Oh my god.” Yoongi says with his mouth dropped open in shock as Jungkook steps out of the backroom wearing a baby pink t-shirt with your face all over it, the cameras flash like crazy and reporters yell out a slew of different questions.
Jungkook runs around carefree in his little pink shirt posing for the cameras and grinning like an idiot because he knows you’re probably at home watching this. Yoongi asks him why he does these things and Jungkook just shrugs, he likes the praise you give him for doing everything you ask him to. He knows it’s light-hearted fun and you’d never do anything to humiliate him intentionally, if you’re happy then that’s all that matters.
jk: did u see me tonight?
y/n <3: yess lol can’t believe you actually did itttt
you looked super cute too, you should wear more shirts with my face on them.
jk: mayyybeeee you can come to one of my matches? don’t u think i earned it?
y/n <3: when is it?
Jungkook damn nearly yells out in excitement, he’s literally shaking as he types out a fast response like you’re about to change your mind or something. He sends you the time and day for it, promising front row seats so you’ll have a good view as he kicks this guy’s ass. You have him cheesing when you say this is going to be your first boxing match too, he’s so excited now.
“Calm down kid you’re gonna give me a headache with all that tapping.” Yoongi grunts as he slaps his hand against Jungkook’s knee, “I don’t know why you’re nervous, she already told you she’s here.”
“Because hyung! This is a big deal to me, she’s here at one of my matches and she’s gonna get a front row view of the fight. Now I have to win this, I have to make it worth her time.” Jungkook grumbles with a pout.
Somewhere off to the side he hears Namjoon snort at him, “She’s really got you wrapped around her finger don’t she?” He says while hauling in a cooler with water bottles.
Jungkook doesn’t even refute that statement, he barely bothers to acknowledge him because he’s reading over the texts you’re sending him. “Hyung she said yes to coming to the after party!” He grins cheerfully.
“Good now get your head out of your ass and focus on what I’m about to say. You have less than five minutes before you’re up in that ring and I need your head in the game.” Yoongi says sternly as he plucks Jungkook’s phone out of his hand, “You remember what I said about pacing yourself?”
Jungkook sits there listening as Yoongi goes into trainer mode, he knows his hyung means no harm and just wants him to win this so Jungkook can’t really be mad at him. He must have zoned out because Yoongi brings him back with a sharp smack to his arm, “Are you listening to me?”
“Yeah,” Jungkook smiles as he stands up, “let’s do this.”
“Get out there and make me proud.”
The entire atmosphere outside has Jungkook’s adrenaline kicking in already. He hears the crowd chanting his name, the loud booming music, and the chatter from the on-goers. He mentally psyches himself, lightly bouncing on his feet as he closes his eyes and mumbles a small prayer. Once he hears his name echo loudly and the screams he steps out with his gloves in the air.
This is what he lives for—the crowds, the music, and the atmosphere. He looks around the arena with a grin as they chant his name over and over again, stopping here and there to pose with fans. Jungkook’s not entirely focused on them though, his eyes wander through the front row looking for you and when his gaze finally lands on you he can’t help the big smile he sports.
You look so pretty with your MIUMIU glasses over your head. You’ve got on a plain baby white tee under your black leather jacket, some low rise jeans and your loafers. Right now you’re the center of attention in your section with people taking pics of you from every direction and some asking for an autograph. You even brought your little friend (Jeon Soyeon?) along.
As he passes by Jungkook shoots you a wink to which you wave back with a flirty little smile. He doesn’t miss the way your eyes skim over his bare chest and the desire begins fueling him with more determination to win. Sure he likes winning because who doesn’t? But now he has more reason to win, he has to impress his future girl.
Jungkook gets pulled up on stage with his heart drumming against his ribcage, he’s so ready for this. The ref calls out both of them and soon enough after slipping his mouth guard and gloves on he rises to his feet and stalks forward slowly with a glint in his eye.
“I want a clean fight okay,” the ref says to both as Jungkook nods, “alright, to your corners.” He sends them both away, the announcer saying some shit Jungkook doesn’t really concern himself with.
Jungkook makes eye contact with you one last time, the two of you mutually nodding before the sound of a bell has Jungkook immediately shifting his focus. He’s light on his feet and takes his time watching with diligent eyes as his opponent circles around him, waiting to get the hit on him but Jungkook’s faster.
The guy swings but Jungkook easily dodges, another swing and Jungkook manages to catch him off guard with a sucker punch to the jaw sending the guy reeling backwards. Jungkook feels like he had enough time to warm-up, he doesn’t play around anymore and launches himself towards his opponent with determination.
Punch after punch and round after round ends with Jungkook delivering one final blow, easily sealing this poor guy’s fate as the guy just lets go and falls to the ground. The referee jumps in, counting down from ten as Jungkook watches with anticipation and adrenaline, ready to go again if this guy gets up. He sees Yoongi sitting with clenched fists and a hopeful look in his eye, and then he sees you.
You’re looking at Jungkook with worry, eyebrows furrowed and doe eyes filled with concern. He manages a bloody smile despite the fucking world of pain he’s in right now (he’s not looking forward to the ice bath after this). He swears the world around him blurs until he finally hears the bell and the announcer’s voice echoing through the arena.
“Knockout!”
Jungkook sags in relief as he hears cheers and yells all around. The paparazzi flash him with their cameras as the crowd loses it, Jungkook turns in time to see Yoongi crawling into the ring and bringing him in for a tight hug, “You fuckin’ did it kid,” he laughs in disbelief as he has Jungkook spit his bloody mouthguard out.
“Fuck hyung, water.” Jungkook rasps out as Yoongi yells for Namjoon to come over.
“You good?” Yoongi asks, “Look at me kid, you okay?” He pats his cheek as Jungkook nods tiredly given that the adrenaline rush was now gone, leaving him bruised and exhausted.
Namjoon comes over with water as Jungkook takes sips, spitting it out into a bucket Yoongi holds out for him to rinse his mouth out. The referee comes over to announce Jungkook as the winner as he stands there barely holding on from pain. He makes eye contact with you again, smiling through the exhaustion despite feeling pretty shitty right now. He slowly makes his way over as you simultaneously rise from your chair to meet him halfway.
“So, what do you think?” Jungkook smirks as he crouches down and hops out of the ring.
You pout cutely with a frown, “You’re hurt.” You softly murmur as your delicate hand comes up to cup his face, “I’m happy for you though, you did really amazing.” You smile.
Jungkook feels his heart swell with happiness hearing that, he goes to wrap his arm around your shoulder but stops in pain. He forgot about this part as a low groan slips from his lips, “Shit he got me pretty good.”
“Don’t overexert yourself,” you help him wrap an arm around you, “gotta be careful, you took some pretty hard hits in there.”
Jungkook laughs tiredly as he lays his head on top of yours while you walk together to the back, “Shoulda seen the other guy.” He says low, ignoring the pointed glare you shoot at him, “Yeah, yeah, I’m just messing with you.”
You grumble something under your breath but he doesn’t catch it, he’s riding off on the high from winning and being so close to you. He likes this and wouldn’t mind having you in his life more after this as he’s long made peace with the idea of you being in his future. All he can think about at this moment is you, you, you.
.
“Say you can't sleep, baby, I know that's that me, espresso,”
Jungkook’s laughing and talking with his friends, he’s got you wrapped up in his arms pressed against his chest as he nurses a whiskey in his other hand. You play with one of his necklaces and tune out his conversation which he doesn’t notice until he turns to you and sees how sad you look, “What’s wrong?”
You look up at him and shake your head, “Just thinking.”
“About?” He gently prods, shifting his entire attention to you.
“You didn’t look so good earlier..how do you do it? I mean, I get you trained for this but I dunno, kinda scared me seeing you all beat up.” You softly murmur, “It’s just a thought of mine, I don’t mean to offend you or anything.”
Jungkook softens at that, he thinks it’s adorable you’re worrying about him like that. Almost feels like.. “Let’s dance?” He asks when a favorite song of his comes on, “C’mon, it’ll take your mind off things.” He grins.
You smile at him softly and follow him to the dancefloor, wrapping your arms around his neck as he holds you by the hips with gentle hands. He hums along to the song playing in the background with his dark eyes trained on yours. You look so beautiful under the dark lights and he can’t help but lean in.
“You’re super pretty y’know that?” Jungkook softly hums as he presses his forehead against yours.
You softly laugh, “Tell me something I don’t know.”
“Mmm did I mention I really like your lips?” His lip curls in a smirk, “Love how soft and plump they look, ‘specially when you wear lip gloss..” He slowly trails off as his lips hover over your own, “Can I kiss you?”
The way your eyes light up, crinkling with joy as you eagerly nod. Jungkook presses his lips to yours in a gentle manner, it’s sweet and slow, just like how he likes it. Your arms tighten around his neck and you tug him further down until he's towering over your figure, blocking you from everyone’s view.
Feels like everything’s complete now and Jungkook’s never felt happier than ever.
He slowly pulls off from the kiss as he stares down at you suddenly feeling shy, “Can I, um, maybe drive you home? Just to make sure you get home safe ‘n stuff. You don’t have to if you don’t want to, just thought I’d ask.”
“Yeah, I’d like that.” You gently reply.
A slow smile spreads over his lips and he nods, “Let’s go then.” He guides you out of the party and into his sleek black car that’s parked out in the front.
The car ride’s quiet and peaceful, he has the windows rolled down as the fresh breeze brushes over the two of you. Jungkook wishes the car ride lasted a little longer but it’s late (two in the morning actually) and he knows you’re tired. He makes a mental note to take you out on a drive next time you guys meet up.
“We’re here baby.” He murmurs softly, gently waking you from your sleep.
“Hm?” You sleepily blink and look around, “Damn, I’m more tired than I thought.” You smile tiredly while stretching your arms out.
Jungkook chuckles, “Don’t worry I got you.” He steps out and rounds the car, opening your door for you and helping you out, “Want me to carry you?” He teases.
You shoot him a sleepy pout and shake your head, “I’m good, maybe next time though.” You breathily chuckle.
“There’s a next time?” He teases.
You toss him a knowing look, stopping in front of the building door, “Good night, or morning I dunno I’m tired.” You spin around and lean over to smooch his cheek gently, “I’ll see you tomorrow.” You softly murmur.
Jungkook’s completely entranced by you as he nods slowly, “Night.”
“Morning.” You teasingly correct him as you make your way inside.
Jungkook doesn’t leave until he sees you hop into the elevator, and even then you still wave at him before disappearing inside. Once you’re gone Jungkook lets out a deep sigh as he leans back on his car, what a night.
𓂃 ゚。 ⋆
A few weeks pass and it’s nothing but bliss for Jungkook. Seeing that he has no matches lined up or anything he decides to hang out with you nearly everyday whether it be you and him going out for ice cream dates or Jungkook just taking you out for evening drives out of the city.
He’s on cloud nine right now—he’s got the girl of his dreams, his payout from the last match was pretty big, and everything’s going right for him. Sure you haven’t sat down to actually clarify what you two are but Jungkook knows you feel the same way about him. Maybe it isn’t such a bad thing with the way things are right now, the you’re mine and I’m yours is left unsaid but it’s there.
You’ve both been hard launching each other on your socials for the past few weeks anyways. By now people knew there was something up with you and him, given that Jungkook wasn’t exactly discreet when he posted on his stories with you in them. Jungkook knows you’ve been doing the same thing too so by now the media kinda labeled the relationship.
Will he say anything? Probably not. Does he care? Nope. He didn’t owe anyone an explanation, he just wanted to be able to date you in peace.
Sometime in the week though you send him a message asking him if he wants to come with you as your plus one to some award show taking place in Hong Kong. He says yes of course duh, why the hell would he say otherwise?
He posts a pic with you in the private plane before calling it quits and ignoring his mentions/comments for the rest of the day. Today’s your big day and while you’re not performing he wants to put his entire focus into being there for you.
“How do I look?” He hears you say as he’s getting ready.
You’re dressed to the nines styled in vintage Chanel and Jungkook had a suit tailored to match your aesthetic for the evening. He knows you both are gonna look so good tonight, no doubt you’ll blow anyone away with your unwavering beauty too. “You look amazing.” He says as he stands behind you.
Your eyes flick up in amusement, “That’s all?”
Jungkook lays his chin over your shoulder and grins softly, “Breathtaking, beautiful, ethereal, stunning—” You cut him off with an embarrassed laugh as you swat at his hands.
“Okay, okay, I get it.” You turn around and play with the buttons to his shirt, “You look really good too.”
“That’s all?” He grins back.
“Don’t push it, you make the compliments here.” You smirk and lay a sweet kiss over his lips, to which he happily and eagerly reciprocates.
He might have gotten a little carried away with it because he’s pushing you against the sink counter and kissing you stupid like he’s been doing these days. A soft muffled groan leaves him as he circles his hands over your hips and uses his grip to pull you into him until your lower pelvis is pressing against his own, dangerously close to his friend down there.
“Jungkook–” You sigh, “We’re gonna be late.” You say in-between his eager kisses.
“Don’t care, let me kiss you stupid.” Jungkook replies as he closes the distance between you two again, moving his lips passionately against yours.
You let out a sweet little moan as your fingers card through his hair, he doesn’t even care if you mess it up either. Looks are superficial and at the end of the day regardless of how people see him they’ll never know him or you and Jungkook’s okay with that.
Suddenly the sound of a knock interrupts the two of you and you pull away with a breathless sigh, “Yeah?” You call out.
“The car’s here and traffic’s looking pretty bad so it might be good if we leave right now. We got thirty minutes to get there since the red carpet’s already started.” Your manager says through the door.
You look at Jungkook with a soft smile as you lean up to smooch his lips, “We’ll meet you down there.”
No one expects you to come out hand in hand with Jungkook and he relishes in their shocked faces/reactions. He likes the thrill and can’t help but pull you closer by the waist with his arm tucked tightly around you. They yell and beg for pictures as you walk on by with him, ignoring their weird comments or stupid questions with no meaning.
“You wanna head inside baby?” He leans down to whisper in your ear after a few rounds of interviews and photos with the paps.
“Yeah I’m getting bored.” You hide your shoulder in his shoulder and follow as he guides you towards the venue with a hand splayed protectively over the small of your back.
He can tell you’re nervous about tonight with the way you sit with your hand tightly wrapped in his. You’re currently nominated for two major categories with one of them being album of the year. He’d be shitting himself too if he was going up against other talented singers. You’re gonna win though, you have to and if you don’t he’ll fight them to recount the votes.
“Easy baby,” he whispers low, “you got this okay?”
“I know but what if I lose?” You purse your lips, “I did really well this year so I’m hoping maybe that I do win.” Jungkook doesn’t like how sad and worried you look right now.
“If you don’t win I’ll buy the fucking thing.” Jungkook snorts, “No one had the highest record sales and streams like you did baby, you basically have this in the bag and everyone knows it.”
You huff out a laugh and look at him in disbelief, “Jungkook you can buy me all the things you want but you’re not buying me an award. Don’t be ludicrous.”
He shrugs carelessly, “I won’t if they just give it to you.” He says seriously as he leans over to kiss your cheek, “I believe in you no matter what.” You look at him with a precious smile and turn your attention back to the show.
Performance after performance passes until soon they’re announcing the winner for album of the year. You didn’t win the other category but Jungkook knows for sure you’ll win the next one. He can feel you nervously bouncing your knee and gripping his hand extra tight while the presenter takes their sweet time opening the envelope.
“And the award goes to,” pause, “y/n!” The crowd erupts into loud screams and cheers, hell Jungkook yells out as he looks at you with glee and helps you stand up.
“You won baby!” Jungkook hugs you tightly as he sways side to side, “So fuckin’ proud of you.”
You happily laugh and bury your face in his neck, “I was so scared, oh my god.” You accept his hand as he helps you step up on stage so you could get your award. He stands back filled with pride as he watches you stride with confidence towards the main stage, walking past all these other people he could care less about.
After the show Jungkook’s surprised you choose to go back to the hotel instead of the afterparty some other singer invites you guys to. He doesn’t protest because he’s been dying to get away from all these people all night (you reprimanded him for suggesting that you guys leave right after you get your win). He walks hand in hand with you, smug as fuck because his girl bagged album of the year, just like he knew you would.
“Smile,” Jungkook holds his phone up, the flash going off as he hears you complain about not being ready, “you look fine, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He snorts and shows you the picture he took.
You shoot him a pouty frown and take his phone, “Delete it I look bad,” you huff, “you better take a better one.”
“Whatever you say princess.” Jungkook takes a series of photos for your Instagram and his, you look so pretty in each one he takes, it’s disgusting how much he’s obsessing over them, “Damn you look sexy.”
“I always do, thank you very much.” You huff and sit back in your seat, enjoying the rest of the ride back.
Jungkook’s immediately on you when the two of you get to the hotel. He’s been wanting to pick up where you two left off earlier before your manager interrupted. If it was up to him you two wouldn’t have even gone to the damn show, he’s been dying to get you out of the dress the minute he saw you in it.
“Jungkook wait–mmph,” you’re cut off as he slips his lips over yours, his hands coming up to cup your face as he swallows your lips in a passionate-hungry kiss.
“Can’t,” Jungkook whispers, “been waiting all night baby.” He reaches behind you to push the door open, kicking it open all the way as he tugs you close and walks you backwards into the room.
“Moment I laid eyes on you I was gone, knew I had to have you.” Jungkook whispers as he leans down to bury his face in your shoulder and neck leaving a flurry of hot kisses all over, “Wanted to rip this shit off you.” He growls softly.
You whined in protest, body falling backwards when the back of your knees hit the lush bed, “Not my dress–”
“I’ll buy another—hundreds baby, don’t you know who your man is?” Jungkook smirks as he climbs over you, “Can I take it off you baby?” He knows he’s being a bit too eager right now, so naturally he wants to make sure you’re both on the same page.
“Yeah.” You softly breathe out, “I want you to take it off,” you trail off looking at him with those siren eyes, “make me yours.” You say as you let the strap of the dress slip off your shoulder invitingly.
Jungkook swallows hard, hands itching and trembling with excitement as he reaches up to pull the other strap, “You already are.” He muses.
“All the way,” you intertwine your hand with his with a precious little smile on your face, “want everyone to know who my man is.”
Fuck. Jungkook bites down on his lip and nods, “You want them to see my marks, want everyone to know who’s fucking you good?” He purrs and leans down to hover over you, lips against lips.
You nod with a cute ��mmhm’, “I want it all, you promised you’d give it to me.” You softly pout, “Or was that a lie?”
“Fuck no, take it baby, ‘s all yours.” Jungkook hurriedly unbuttons his dress shirt, hastily throwing his belt off and peeling his slacks off, “Gonna give you exactly what you need till you can’t take it.” He says as he reaches for the zipper to the dress.
He all but rips the thing off of you and tosses it to the corner of the room (mind you it’s worth over twenty thousand). It’s the first time seeing you like this under him and he wants to make it special for you, a night you’ll never forget.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful baby.” He comments as he leans down to leave a trail of kisses along your chest and tummy,slowly slipping down the bed as he inches towards your panty covered pussy.
“You have no idea how long I’ve been dreaming of this, been thinking about all the ways I could have you,” he whispers and lays a kiss over your damp folds, “I didn’t know if I wanted to lay you on my bed or bend you over the car—you make it so hard to control myself, you have no idea.”
He sees the little tremor that passes over you when he says this. Your eyes are filled with want and need but like the stubborn little thing you are, you don’t say anything. Jungkook can’t have that either, he wants—no needs—to hear your sweet little voice beg for him.
“What’s the matter baby? You need something?” Jungkook softly croons as he peppers soft kisses against your inner thighs.
You bite on your lip and nod, “Need you.”
“But you already have me?” He grins, he can see the frustration bubbling up on your face.
“Here,” you softly breathe and reach down to tug your panties upwards, the material digs into your cunt giving him a perfect outline of it, “won’t you give it to me?” Your voice pulls him in like a siren singing to a sailor, he’s so entranced by it he almost feels like he’s gonna drool right now.
Jungkook wastes no time in yanking the damp materials down your thighs, not bothering to slide them completely off as he lifts your legs up. They’re pressed together with your soft pussy lips pressed together for him, tempting him with a glob of shiny slick running down your soft asscheeks.
“Fuck,” Jungkook growls as he leans in to smother his face with your cunt, tongue slipping through your drenched dewy folds to lap up the globs of slick.
You kick your feet in the air with a tiny whine, hips wiggling in an attempt to get him on your clit. He laps at you messily, circling the tip of his tongue over your throbbing bud that’s squished between your folds. The moan you let out sends shivers down his spine and he’s eager to hear more.
“So fucking good,” he pants, “jus’ like I imagined pretty baby.” He slurs out, pussy drunk already.
He can feel you reaching down to tug your panties all the way off but he can’t be bothered with stopping, not when your cunt’s gushing for him. Jungkook licks with vigor, swiping over and over against your tender clit. Your cunt opens up beautifully with a low squelch and your thighs begin trembling under his strong hold.
It gets harder with each passing second to contain himself, his cock feels like it’s literally about to burst. He pulls away from you and lets your shaky legs fall back as he tears your panties off completely.
“Gonna fuck you so good baby,” he climbs over you and reaches down to pull his heavy cock out, “can’t wait anymore.”
Your legs easily fall apart for him and make room as he shuffles closer between them. Jungkook sees the way your eyes go dark when they land below between his legs where his cock hangs heavy, swollen at the tip with beady trails of precum oozing from the head. You lick your lips and reach down to grip him in your soft hand, tentatively squeezing and stroking as if you were feeling him up.
“Like it baby? Gonna have my fat cock fill this little pussy up?” Jungkook has a sleazy grin splayed over his lips as he watches you, “Hm?”
“Yeah, ‘m not gonna let you cum anywhere but inside,” you deviously smile back like the nasty little minx you are, “till it’s dripping.”
He groans at the thought of that and kicks his hips forward, “Lemme in baby,” he slurs out, “slip it right in for me, there you go.” He purrs when he feels the head slide over your messy pussy, smearing your slick and his precum all over your cunt before you’re guiding him towards your winking sopping hole.
You bite down on your lip when the tip catches against your rim, it pops inside feeling you inch for inch slowly—cockhead spreading you open until he’s fully seated in your tight cunt. He can’t help but bite his lip with the way you’re squeezing him so tight—so snug and warm.
“So nice ‘n warm for me,” he hoarsely says as he rubs his hands along your sides, gently squeezing at your hips as he pulls you closer until your pelvis is smacked tight against his own.
You let out the most sinful fucking moan ever when his cock slides deeper. Back arching and toes curling—he just loves how beautiful you look spread out under him with your pretty pussy snug against his cock. You release a stuttered moan as you reach for his hands and squeeze tightly.
“Hurts a little,” you say through gritted teeth, “why the fuck are you so fucking big?”
Jungkook nearly laughs at that because he doesn’t think he’s ever heard that many curse words leave your mouth before. “You want me to pull out?”
“No don’t you dare,” you glare, “took me a minute to get this thing in and you want me to do it all over again?”
Jungkook looks back down with a low whistle, “Little pussy looks like it’s struggling to keep me all in baby, you sure you can handle it?” He teases as he reaches down to flick his thumb over your swollen clit.
Your hips jump and you whine out for him, “Stop playing around Jungkook,” you turn to hide your face in the soft sheets, “you know I can.” You mumble softly, eyes half-lidded with pleasure.
Jungkook bites down on his lip and rolls his hips slowly, “I know, you were made for this dick.” He smirks and lazily flicks his thumb pairing it with his slow but deep thrusts.
Your moans come out soft and breathy, everytime he backstrokes there’s a light sheen of slick covering his cock from the base near his pelvis. Your cunt makes these adorable little squelching noises as he pushes back in, balls lightly pressing against your taint when he buries himself back in. Occasionally he stops for a few seconds before he resumes his lazy pace.
He never imagined it’d feel this good with you, something about the way your little pussy refuses to let go for even a moment—squeezing him so tight it’s almost impossible to move. His own noises come out soft and husky, he can’t help the moans and soft sighs he lets out from the hot pleasure coiling in his stomach.
“Baby,” he gasps as he leans forward to hover over you with hands on either side of you, “this good?” He asks as he steadily increases the pace in his thrusts, hips smacking wetly against your ass and balls swinging now.
You nod eagerly, “More than good—mm, jus’ like that,” you sound blissed out, gaze half-lidded and dreamy as you stare up at him with those pretty eyes of yours.
“Like that?” He groans, “Or like this?” Suddenly Jungkook snaps his hips up, a loud smack filling the room alongside a warbled cry of his name, “Oh you like that, don’t you? Baby likes it rough?” He purrs.
The slide’s fucking nasty with a mix of precum and your slick, he feels it slide down your taint where his balls slap repeatedly. The noise is filthy and sends pleasant tremors down his spine, “Oh, fuck,” he groans softly, “doing so good for me.”
Jungkook begins moving earnestly now, slamming his cock in and out of your bruised and battered cunt. Slick spills everywhere—the sheets, your inner thighs, his pelvis—it’s like music to his fucking ears right now. He can’t resist and leans down to smother your lips with his, swallowing every little cry and moan you let out.
Your arms come up to wrap around his neck as you hold on tightly, he reaches down to wrap a leg around his waist as he manages to slide in deeper with the tip brushing over your g-spot. You let out a loud cry into his mouth and bury your fingers in his hair, your thigh starts trembling again only this time more intense than before.
“You gonna cum for me baby?” He pulls away with a moan, “C’mon, be a good girl and make it messy.” He purrs against your lips while watching your expressions closely.
You stare into his eyes with unshed tears as more whimpers and whines escape, “So close,” you manage to wrap another shaky leg around him, “please, please, ‘m so close.” You whine out as your legs cross behind him on his back.
Jungkook doesn’t wanna disappoint or hold out any longer as he manages to stick a hand down between you to roll your clit between his fingers, “Cum for me, give it to me baby.” He growls softly as he plows into your tender and sore cunt.
The squelching gets louder and your moans turn into weak whimpers as you lie there and take it. His cock stirs at the sight of you nearing your end, he decides to give you a little extra push as he meanly pinches your clit. This causes you to cry out and go stiff under him, body shaking like a leaf as you gush around his cock.
“Jungkook,” you gasp repeatedly as your eyes flutter shut, face pinched in pleasure and overstimulation, “so good.” You slur out.
Jungkook lets your tender clit go and focuses on his own pleasure now that he’s got your orgasm out of the way. He grunts quietly and buries his face against your soft tits, mouthing at your sore stiff nipples. You squeeze around him tighter and tighter until the coil in his stomach snaps and he lets out a long moan of your name.
“Fuck..” Jungkook whispers breathlessly as he presses your pelvises close together, burying his cock balls deep till every last drop’s inside your battered pussy.
You moan quietly and let your legs fall from his hips, limbs feeling like jelly as you lay there panting softly. Jungkook rests his forehead against your tit and sighs deeply, “Are you okay love?” He asks softly.
“Yeah, jus’ really tired.” You whisper hoarsely and close your eyes, “Fuck, no offense but I feel really gross right now. Start a bath for me, pretty please?” You softly ask with a lip jutted out in a pout.
Jungkook of course can’t say no, “Course,” he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead and lifts himself off of you, “I’ll be back.”
𓂃 ゚。 ⋆
Your company’s the first to make a statement confirming what everybody already knew, and then Yoongi followed shortly after. If Jungkook had thought it was bad before, people went ape shit now that it’s been officially confirmed by you two.
Before, they put all the heat on Jungkook because it was easier to blame him for it given the public’s opinion about him. It was easier to blame him because why not? He was some low-life boxer in their eyes. But then the attention shifted and people started targeting their hate towards you which pissed Jungkook off to no end.
Why the fuck was everyone so invested in what you did and didn’t do? Why was it that they felt entitled to dictate who you date and don’t date? Jungkook really needed these people to get jobs or mind their business because clearly they had no life outside of hating on a stranger for finding their own happiness.
He saw those vicious comments people left all over your posts and he fucking hated that he couldn’t do shit to stop them from coming back, pissed him off even more because his girlfriend didn’t deserve this. You deserved the world and more, not this shit.
So, Jungkook did the next best thing he could think of. He started taking names and screenshotting profiles before turning them over to a attorney he hired, if he couldn’t beat these stupid fuckers himself he’d let them have it with his private team. He made headlines after people started noticing that he was suing the people opening their big ass mouths.
“Baby, it’s okay really.” You softly complain, “You don’t have to waste your time with these weird people, I’m sure they’ll get over themselves if we ignore them.”
Jungkook shakes his head, “No, I’m sorry baby but I can’t sit there and watch these fuckers call you degrading names and demand shit like they know you—seriously who the fuck do these people think they are?” He growls under his breath as he paces back and forth, “And that’s not even the gist of it, these idiots are lucky I don’t catch them out in public because I’ll beat the fuck out of them.”
Out of the corner of his eye he sees you curl up on the sofa with a sad smile, “I know, but you can’t go around beating up millions of people for leaving a hate comment. It’s normal, this happens all the time I learned to live with it.” You’re trying to sound sure of yourself but he doesn’t buy it.
“Baby look at me.” He comes over and kneels down in front of you, “This shit is not normal nor is it ever okay, fuck them for making you feel like this. I hate seeing you look so dejected reading all those hateful comments,” he takes your hands in his and kisses them, “just lemme take care of it. Please?”
You look conflicted like you’re not sure if you should say yes but with a little more coaxing you finally sigh, “Fineee, just don’t do anything crazy. I don’t need my boyfriend in jail, thank you very much.”
Jungkook cracks a smile and buries his face in your lap with a happy sigh, “I promise baby, if I go to jail, who else is gonna cook you fried rice at three in the morning? Who else is gonna give you their black card?” He teases.
“Yeah, yeah now come here.” You open your arms for him, “You know I only need you and that’s all.”
Jungkook kisses that soft pout off your face as he nods, “I know you do baby, didn’t think otherwise.” He grins and lays his head on your chest with closed eyes.
The two of you sit there in silence together with the TV playing low in the background. Jungkook for the most part behaves himself despite being so close to your soft tits that are poorly hidden under your camisole. He can literally dip his head in there and get a sneak peek, maybe even a mouthful of titties—
“Jungkook, really?” You sigh, “You’re such a pervert.”
“You like it,” Jungkook winks as he mouths at your tit through your little camisole, “can I?” He knows you can’t resist and judging by the way your thighs press together, “Pretty pleaseee baby?” He gives you the best puppy eyes he can muster, all a man wants is some titty loving, that’s all.
You don’t even finish saying yes before he’s diving in and tugging your camisole down so that your tits spill out and into his face. His eyes light up and he immediately wraps his lips around a nipple, suckling gently as he laves his tongue over the stiff bud in his mouth. You quietly sigh and sink into the sofa with him following as he rolls his tongue over your nipple and flicks it repeatedly.
“You’re such a baby you know that?” You murmur, “But you’re my handsome bun,” the nickname has him perking up, “my strong, big, handsome bun.” You coo softly while stroking his hair slowly.
Jungkook’s eyes flutter shut as he sinks into the warm feeling, his sucking slows down until he’s barely moving his tongue anymore and simply suckling on your teat. “You like hearing how strong you are don’t you baby—love knowing you can easily beat someone’s ass for me?”
He nods pathetically with a low groan, “Of course you do,” you softly coo, “it’s why I picked you, knew you’d be able to take care of me the way I deserve.” You scratch his scalp lightly, moaning softly when he makes another noise, “Treat me so good like the princess I am.”
That he does. Jungkook is in heaven right now, he feels like he can just pass out right here and now with a titty in his mouth. He can’t help but shudder as he slips into a dream-like state, “Go ahead baby, just rest yeah? I got you.” You softly say while cradling his head and going lax under him, “Take what you need.”
And he does. He ends up falling asleep, one of the best fucking naps ever with your tit still in his mouth even when he wakes up. He so needs to do this another time, shit’s relaxing and a good stress reliever. Jungkook doesn’t think you’ll have any complaints either.
.
It’s a busy week for Jungkook because he has a match coming up in a few weeks and Yoongi has him completely locking in at the gym for training. You don’t mind it and being the best girlfriend you are you come as support during his sessions. You also confirmed his suspicions that Seokjin was a secret stan because his hyung fanboys out when he meets you.
“Hyung stop it.” Jungkook glares, “Leave her alone before I punch you.”
Seokjin scoffs, “No way, I get to meet my idol and you wanna ruin it for me? Where’s my respect, you brat.” This guy—needless to say Jungkook’s shooting daggers at his hyung the entire time he’s there.
The real challenge comes during the press conference/weigh-in Jungkook goes to like he always does. It starts off normal, the guy doesn’t trash talk and Jungkook’s not one for it either unless the fighter’s cocky then yeah he’ll put them in their place but this guy’s alright which he appreciates. It’s the fucking reporters that get Jungkook heated sometimes.
“Jeon, how do you feel about this upcoming match? Any thoughts on your opponent?” One asks with his recorder held out.
“I’m excited like always, I know potential when I see it so I’m hoping to have a great match with my opponent. He looks like he can give me a run for my money.” He laughs softly into the mic.
Another reporter asks something but it’s directed at his opponent so Jungkook just nods off listening to the two. Out of the corner of his eye he sees someone laughing when he looks at him, and at first he doesn’t pay attention and just keeps his focus on the reporters. But then this guy comes to the front and Jungkook just knows he’s about to hear the stupidest shit in his life.
“Jeon, so how are you and your girl doing? Heard the news and wanted to congratulate you.” He says with this sleazy grin.
It rubs him the wrong way but Jungkook keeps his temper in check as he forces himself to politely answer, “Good, thank you.” He curtly replies.
He hears Yoongi clear his throat next to him with a fierce glare, “Let’s try and keep this about the match, he's not here to answer questions about his life, this isn’t a personal interview.”
You’d think that after being called out like that he’d stop there and move on but no, this guy’s a piece of work. “I mean I was just askin’ cause I was kinda surprised with the news since you know, she been ran through by the entire industry.” This gets Jungkook to react as he pushes his chair back, causing it to fly backwards as he slowly stalks forward.
“New guy every month—say, you the new boy of the month Jeon?” He smirks.
Jungkook doesn’t even think before he lunges at him, he hears Yoongi call his name as Namjoon springs into action to get Jungkook back but it’s too late.
Jungkook’s fist connects with the side of this man’s jaw and sends him flying to the ground as Jungkook lifts his (now) bloody fist up to strike him again with a sick sound. He’s so far gone right now he doesn’t even feel when Namjoon yanks him off the guy.
“Jungkook! Calm the fuck down and get off him!” Namjoon yells through the chaos as reporters scramble to get shots and videos of this.
“No, get off me hyung! Let me fuckin’ go where is this little shit? If you’re such a fuckin’ man come say it to my face one more fucking time, I dare you! Say it!” He yells as he struggles against Namjoon’s strong hold.
It takes three guys to get Jungkook away from the reporter, Yoongi deals with the rest but Jungkook’s so fucking mad he can’t even sit right now. He’s pacing back and forth in the little backroom they got him in as Namjoon watches with concern in his eyes. He hasn’t tried to calm him down because even he knows the danger of trying to talk to him while he’s this mad.
The door slams open and Yoongi steps in, “Jungkook what the fuck was that?! That guy went to the hospital, do you even realize the mess you caused? He’s gonna press charges–”
“I don’t give a fuck!” Jungkook interrupts, stunning Yoongi into silence, “He fucking disrespected my girlfriend thinking that shit was funny. I could really give two fucks if he wants to press charges or not!” Namjoon watches the two in silence, but he’s ready to jump in if Jungkook turns on Yoongi or something.
Yoongi, who usually has something smart to say for everything, for once doesn’t have shit to say. He just stands there watching Jungkook kick the chair over and pace around the room furiously. “Kid, look, I get you. I would do the same too if I was in your place but this shit isn’t worth it. You can’t be letting them get to you like this, that’s what they want.”
“Well he fucking got what he wanted.” Jungkook scoffs with a humorless laugh.
“Just go home, I’ll deal with the press.” Yoongi sighs as he rubs his temples, “Please, for once just do what I say.”
The news is bad, there’s a shit ton of articles coming out within the next hour about how Jungkook attacked the reporter and left him a bloody puddle on the ground. It’s all over the place and there’s a shit ton of people commenting about it on online forums and comment sections. One side praises him for defending you, and then the other criticizes his inability to keep himself under control but Jungkook doesn’t care.
The REAL cherry on top is when you post your response to the news—you use that video of Latto saying “thank you to my man” along with a cute selfie of you cuddled up in bed with Jungkook. Even you made it clear as day you didn’t give a fuck about that guy either.
Your fans who had previously had negative reactions to your dating news were coming around too in favor of Jungkook. They said shit like “free JK he did nothing wrong” and voiced their support for him. Some were even harassing the reporter who had dared to say those things about you, demanding that he lose credibility as a reporter amongst other things.
Jungkook thinks it’s going to be okay because that guy totally fucking deserved it (and more).
.
The weeks fly by and the day of his big match comes—the biggest one yet because bets are high and on top of that Jungkook has a winning streak to keep up if he wants them to give him the title of “undefeated”. Following the conference nothing really happened, the guy turned out to have some shady shit on him so he decided not to press any charges in the end. God bless Yoongi for digging shit up.
With that being dealt with Jungkook could finally put his entire focus on the match. He had heard the entire arena sold out and some of the richest people on earth were attending. This was a huge deal and he had everything to lose. Jungkook was confident in his win but this guy was also the deal too, which only means Jungkook has to keep his guard up.
“You ready kid? This is about to be the biggest fight of your career.” Yoongi says as he comes to sit in front of Jungkook, “You’re gonna have to kick it up a notch this match, the guy’s good but he isn’t better than you.”
He nods at that because Jungkook’s confident in his fighting abilities, “I know hyung, I have a really good feeling about tonight.” He smiles, “Don’t worry about it, I got this under control.”
“Good, that’s what I like to hear from you.” Yoongi grins back as he pats his back, “Now get out there and make me proud.”
The arena buzzes with life when Jungkook enters the room, he’s hit with flashing lights in every direction as people scream and chant his name. He’s getting worked up again as the adrenaline slowly kicks in. Jungkook makes his way up to the ring, passing over your section where you’re sitting with Namjoon and Seokjin.
He closes his eyes for a brief moment, blocking out the crowd and music as he tries to focus. He can do this, he can do this. He will win, for you.
The guy packs a good punch and each round gets progressively harder and harder to fight him off. During one of the breaks in-between the rounds, he slumps into his corner as Yoongi immediately springs over to help him with his mouth guard.
“He’s tiring you out Kook, he’s gonna wait until you’re low on energy to give it his all.” Yoongi warns, “You need to match his pace instead of wasting your energy so early.”
Jungkook pants tiredly as he shakes his head, “Hyung he’s gonna knock me out.” He says deliriously, filled with pain and adrenaline.
“No he isn’t, because you’re not going to let him, you hear me? You’re going to get back out there and show that punk what you’re made of.” Yoongi sternly replies, “Do it for the pretty girl waiting for your win.”
Jungkook’s eyes snap over to where you sit, you look really scared and on top of that worried. He sees the way your knee bounces and how you pick at your fingernails. This isn’t what he wants to see.. This isn’t what he wants at all.
“Okay.” Jungkook grunts with renewed energy, “Fuck, okay.”
Yoongi pats his back gently and steps away from the ring, “Remember: match his pace.”
Jungkook rises to his feet and gets ready for the next round. He only has a few more before a winner has to be announced or the match is tied. Only one of them will walk out a champion, and it’s going to be him.
He takes Yoongi’s advice and matches this guy’s pace, he observes his every move and studies the combos he throws out. The guy’s a corner tech type so Jungkook avoids the edges and keeps him in the middle. He also notices that he goes for uppercuts and rear hooks.
As Jungkook prepares to strike he loses his footing and the guy takes the chance to hook him across the face. It sends Jungkook to the ground as he falls with a groan of pain. “Fuck.” He whispers.
He’s not sure how much longer he can keep up, can he even get up? His vision is beginning to blur a little and his hearing’s a little hazy too. He barely even makes out the referee counting down to a knockout.
Through the blurriness he sees Yoongi run over to the side of the net, “Get up, kid! Fuck, c’mon Jungkook get up!” He desperately says.
Jungkook wants to, but everything hurts so much and he’s so tired right now. He weakly tries to get up, barely managing to hold up on all fours as he pants heavily with blood dripping down onto the mat below. He lifts his head up slowly and suddenly the world stops.
You’re standing there with tears in your eyes, your mouth’s moving rapidly (most likely pleading with him to get up). Jungkook doesn’t like that, he swore he’d never let you feel that way again after you attended his first match and saw how bad it was. Fuck.
“Four…three..”
Get up. Get up. Get up. Get up.
Jungkook grits his teeth and stumbles forward, barely managing to catch himself on the nets as he looks back at his opponent with renewed strength. The countdown stops and the match continues, he is going to win this if that’s the last thing he does.
He lunges forward and the guy doesn’t expect it coming as Jungkook manages to get him cornered before he lets loose. He rains a slew of punches, too fast for the guy to keep up who doesn’t expect him to suddenly be this fast.
Jungkook feels like he blacks out during all this, landing hit after hit until he’s finished with one last uppercut and then everything stops. He feels a pair of hands pull him back as the referee begins the countdown. Jungkook stands there heaving as he watches tiredly.
“..Two..one..” The bell suddenly rings and the crowd cheers.
He did it. Holy shit, he did it!
Both Yoongi and Namjoon rush into the ring together, bringing him into their arms as they jump with joy. “You fucking did it!” Namjoon smiles happily.
“Where’s…where’s y/n?” Jungkook blearily asks as he looks around.
“She’s right there,” Yoongi points out, “she’s still here Kook.”
He pulls away from the hug and trudges over to the net, holding it up and holding his arm out for you, “C’mere baby.” He calls out.
You immediately stumble over and climb into the ring with him, sinking right into his arms when he tugs you close. “I’m here,” he whispers, “I’m here.”
“Don’t ever scare me like that again! You hear me? I don’t ever wanna see you like that.” You whimper and cup his face, “Oh Jungkook..”
He smiles softly and leans down to kiss you passionately in front of everyone. You easily melt into the kiss and wrap your arms around his neck. When he pulls back he looks around with a stupid grin on his face, “Fucking won but everything hurts.”
You frown cutely and ignore the reporters that begin to swarm the two of you. Jungkook keeps you tucked into his side as he answers their questions, “Feels really good I can’t lie, even if I feel like shit right now though. But I’m just glad I won, I've been wanting to dedicate this win to my beautiful girl.” He smiles down at you and kisses the top of your head.
They start throwing more questions at him after that. They’re all kind of the same regarding their relationship because they’re just dying to know all about his relationship to you. They even try to ask you some questions but luckily Yoongi intervenes when it begins to get out of control.
“Alright back up, give Jungkook some space.” Yoongi says as he pushes some reporters away, “You ready to go Kook?”
“Yeah, get me the fuck outta here.” Jungkook groans as he follows after his hyungs with you close by.
Yoongi and the others help Jungkook get into an ice bath as soon as they get into the back room. You work on cleaning the blood off his face and icing his wounds, “Does it hurt? Well, more than usual?” You softly ask.
“No babe I’m fine.” Jungkook replied calmly as he closed his eyes, “The ice feels really good, I’m sore all over.”
You hum, “Let me know if I’m hurting you.”
“I will.” He hums back and sinks into the ice with a relaxed sigh.
The cold sensation on his body is working wonders on his sore muscles. It feels like he’s living the dream right now. He doesn’t think he wants to even party after this, sure a big win calls for a celebratory dinner or something but right now cuddling and going to sleep sounds way better.
Yeah, way better.
.
“I thought you were too sore to do anything, what happened to that?” You laugh softly while looking down at him.
Jungkook’s pout deepens, “I can still move my hips, see?” He says and demonstrates with a little thrust up, “Pleaseeee! For me baby? I promise I’ll tell you if it hurts or something.”
You look at him in disbelief, “You literally just got beat up what do you mean please? Look at you! Why the heck is sex even on your mind right now?”
“Because, you looked so sexy on that billboard on our way back here.” He huffs casually leaving out the part where he raged because everyone can see you and no doubt millions have.
Not that he’s petty but he’s petty, he wanted to tear that shit down and keep it for himself. “That’s not the point,” he groans and tosses his head back on the pillow, “I can still move and it’s not like my cock got beat up too.”
“You are so nasty.” You laugh softly and sit back on his lap, “If I ride you will that make you happy, hm?”
It’s comical the way his hair bounces when he nods vigorously, “Yes.” He says without hesitation, “It’s like a reward.” He grins toothily.
You roll your eyes at him with a sigh, “You’re so spoiled,” you mumble while reaching down to help him pull his boxers down.
“Wait!” Jungkook looks up at you with pouty eyes, “Can you..?” He tugs at the loose shirt you’re wearing.
Immediately you know what he wants and you nod, “My baby deserves it doesn’t he?” You softly say while tossing the garment somewhere else, “Did so good out there,” you purr and lean over him.
His eyes sparkle as he nods, “I did,” he whispers and licks his lips, “means I get a reward right?”
“Yes you do.” You gently coax him closer as you lean down to press your soft tit to his lips, “Take it, ‘s all yours.” He latches on without wasting another second.
Your lips part as a soft breathy moan escapes, your soft hand reaches down to fish his hard cock out of his boxers. He shudders when you start stroking him, it’s slow and sensual as you gather bits of precum with your thumb and slowly work your way down around the shaft.
His balls sit heavy and they ache with need to empty themselves in you. Jungkook has to fight the urge to buck his hips as he accidentally grazes his teeth against your bud.
You yelp softly and he pulls away apologetically, “Easy, not so hard.” You softly chastise.
“Sorry.” Jungkook murmurs and presses a kiss on your tit before moving to the opposite one.
“Just sit back and relax baby,” you murmur, “I got you.”
You position the head at your weeping pussy, slapping it repeatedly in small taps until the tip catches on your hole. Jungkook holds his breath as you begin to slide down on his sensitive cock until you're bottoming out with your ass meeting his thighs.
“Good?” You softly whisper.
Jungkook nods and goes back to suckling on your nipple in peace. You rock yourself in his lap steadily like you’re scared you’re gonna hurt him but Jungkook encourages you with a little buck. This makes you sink down in his lap with a lewd moan, his cock shifting deeper inside.
“Use me,” Jungkook quietly pipes up, “I can take it.” His breath hot and heavy over your pebbled nipple.
“You sure? What if I hurt you?” You murmur.
“I’ll be fine baby, I’ll let you know if something hurts. Please?” He opens his mouth to take your nipple back in.
You shiver and bite your lip still a bit worried but you end up giving in. You slowly pick up the pace, switching from grinding to bouncing. There’s a low smack here and there but it’s nothing too crazy because you’re going as gentle as you can.
Jungkook’s lips tighten around your nipple with every grind and bounce. Your pussy tugs at his cock with the right amount of pressure sending shivers down his spine. He moans softly and moves one hand up to grip your bouncing tit.
“Fuck you look good like this,” he breathes out in pleasure.
You groan softly as he squeezes your tit in his strong hand, massaging the soft mound of flesh afterwards. He pulls away to push both tits together and buries his face between them with a happy sigh, “Never wanna leave, I could die a happy man like this sweetheart.”
“You’re just a perv.” You chuckle with a moan.
“For you.” Jungkook grins and then lays back, “Don’t tell me you’re getting tired already.” He notices that your bouncing has slowed down.
You glare cutely at him and sit up, “I don’t like doing the work in case you haven’t noticed.” You mumble while grinding back and forth over his cock, “You’re lucky I love you enough to do this.”
His eyes widen when he hears the words “love” and “you” in one sentence. It makes his sappy little heart beat with joy and pride hearing those words leave your lips, he can’t help but buck his hips upward eagerly.
“Jungkook..!” You gasp throwing your head back.
“Say it again baby,” he huffs as he uses his strong grip to haul you up and plop you back down on his lap, “I wanna hear it–” He cuts off with a breathy moan.
“I love you.” The words make him groan louder as he slaps his hips upward.
“Fuck I love you too,” he moans, “so, so fuckin’ much, you have no idea.” He whispers and looks up at you through hooded eyes.
You bite your lip hard and throw your head back with a whine, “ ‘m coming.” You whimper.
“Oh you like hearing that don’t you, knowing damn well that you got me wrapped around your fingers.” Jungkook huffs with exertion as he fucks into you harder.
“Y-Yes, love it so much knowing you’re mine,” you mewl softly and grind on him, “fuck, fuck..!” Your pussy clamps down and suddenly you’re coming all over him in slow waves of harsh pleasure.
Jungkook pulls you down for a passionate kiss as he holds you down against his pelvis. A few more rolls has him coming too, cock throbbing and twitching. He lays there panting heavily with hazy eyes while you whine about him being careful.
“Don’t put pressure on your side,” you grumble, “I told you we shouldn’t have fooled around.”
“I’m fine, see? Nothing’s wrong.” Jungkook laughs and delivers a sharp smack to your ass, “Now tell me you love me again. Wanna hear it from your pretty lips.” He mumbles and traces over your bottom lip.
“I love you.” You fondly sigh.
“Again.”
“I love you.”
“Again.”
“You’re so annoying! I’m going to shower.” You huff and stomp off with cum leaking down your inner thighs.
Jungkook lays there with a soft grin as he watches you go, “Yeah, yeah, I love you too though.” Forever.
And ever.
TAGLIST: @fragmentof-indifference @jungkooksseuphoria @kooliv @angelarin @jjeonjjk7 @lilliankoo @pb-n-juju @ellesalazar @saweetspoiled @laylasbunbunny @prettyprincejk @cherrysainttt @hyunjinswifeee @joongraduatewithonor @hellbornsworld @leire-mia @m1sss1mp @lissful @winkii @lifeless-firefly @exactlygreatcoffee @taestoess @ayalies @floweryjeons @softtcurse @lilspinachwrld @tearyjjeon @littleobsessedkitty @lovelovelovebts @angeljmnie @rerefundslocals @bangtans-mama @thvhoe @maddkitt @tvse @ohjeon @teteswtnr @jkslovey12 @kelsyx33 @milfpo1ice @sluttydidi @ztyur @beomgyuult @shescharlie @sweet-sourhotcoco @lalita-7 @hazzzelsdimension @p34rluv @kook-net @bonita0-0 @vmapy @dahliadaenerys @frieschan @lilyflowerguk @sayokodiary @babycandy111 @looneybleus @ash07128 @gyukookswhore @rrosiitas
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Hehe I'm making a pokèmon oc ehehehhehe
#shes a fairy type specialist :3#this is for that one Team Nova thing on pinterest#shes part of the Mirach squad :3#havent got a name yet though#i havent drawn on my in MONTH so its a bit rough but oh well#wip#pokemon oc#***on my phone#i literally forgot a whole word
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better than the devil
<sylus x fem!reader>
where you find out if Sylus really has horns, and why he avoids letting you touch them
genre/warnings: smut, pwp, unprotected sex, size kink (i mean bro is PACKING), breeding kink, sylus’s horns are ✨sensitive✨, dirty talk, sexual tension, missionary, a fuck ton of horn play, horny horns, cumming untouched, orgams galore!, so much cum♡
w/c: 2.9K
a/n: gotta thank the loml @bro-atz for helping me with this a little ehehehe >:) I hope this destroyed yall as much as this destroyed me to write it!!🥹
They say he takes the form of some dragon-like creature—with large black horns and wings.
The first time you witnessed it with your own two eyes was when he choked out a serpent wanderer ten times his size before it got to you. You were semi-conscious at that point of time, the fatigue threatening to take over, but you had caught a glimpse of his silhouette—two thick appendages that curled proudly past his dirty silver hair, and large wings that hung off his back—before you blacked out.
“Staring at me isn’t going to get any of your curiosities satisfied”, Sylus snaps you out of your thoughts. Your gaze flickers to his face, but Sylus has his eyes on his phone.
Then his gaze shifts to you.
“What are you thinking about, sweetie?”
Of course, you couldn’t just tell him outright that you wanted to see him magically grow his horns out of his head. You doubt even Luke and Kieran have seen it themselves.
“Your horns.”
Sylus lowers his phone onto his lap, then he cocks an eyebrow, which turns to a furrow in seconds.
“What gave you the idea that I grew horns?” He asks, his tone laced with mock and caution. His attention is fully on you now.
Yeah, maybe that was not a good question to ask. Then again, being around someone as direct as Sylus had made you pick up his mannerisms quite a fair bit.
“Nothing really”, you brush off, attempting to derail the conversation before something goes wrong. “I’m just curious.”
“Talk”, Sylus demands, albeit in a soft tone. “I’m listening.”
His crimson eyes burn a hole into your head, and you now only realise the way he has you cornered on his couch, his large frame looming over yours.
You sigh, realising he’s not about to let it go anytime soon.
“A few weeks ago, during one of the battles we had, where I almost died-“
“Get to the point, sweetie”, Sylus cuts, seeing through your guise.
You pout. “Right. Before I blacked out, I saw you appear right in front of me, with horns.”
Sylus raises his eyebrows, seemingly in amusement. “You sure you weren’t hallucinating?”
He earns a smack on his chest. You’re ready to let him disprove you further or whatever, but your body jolts when you feel Sylus snake his arms around your waist before he carries you effortlessly off the corner of the couch and onto his lap.
You watch his eyes grow soft when he locks his gaze with yours. His expression is unreadable.
Your eyes widen in amazement when the thick pair of horns curl past his locks, the black a stark contrast with his white hair. He looks like he’s wearing bows in a funny, demonic type of way. Not that he has to know that.
You continue to stare at his horns, visually taking in the rough yet smooth texture and patterns that run downwards as the horns grow thicker towards the base.
“What are you really?” You wonder aloud, your fingers reaching out to feel the interesting texture of his horns, only for him to pull away quickly.
“It’s not the right time for you to know”, he replies curtly. You notice the glint of concern in his eyes, shrouded under the indifferent expression he wears.
So you decide to leave it for now, at least.
Nonetheless, it doesn’t stop you from annoying the ever-loving shit out of Sylus about his horns once you found out about it.
He would stare at you with his eyebrows furrowed, muttering that he should have never told you about his horns, only for you to bat your eyelashes at him, much to his annoyance.
“At least let me touch them if you’re not gonna tell me more about them”, you would whine. With a frown, he would push your forehead with a finger, giving you his standard answer.
"No."
“Then could you at least tell me why you won’t let me touch your horns?”
He would rest his thumb and index finger on his chin, feigning a thinking stance before his expression drops deadpan and then the curt answer leaves his lips.
“No.”
You’re putting this right next to when you were fighting for your life to get that fucking brooch months ago.
While the thought continues to eat into your curiosity, you mostly let Sylus off the hook after a while. For some reason, you’ve been noticing that Sylus has been walking around his mansion with his horns freely out. Maybe because he’s shown you his full horns once that’s why?
Or he’s just straight-up taunting you.
You feign nonchalance, only stealing glances at the thick appendage that stood out against his pale locks from time to time, but never really bringing it up to him, for now at least.
You hear the raindrops patter against the large windows of Sylus's room one afternoon. At least the heavy clouds are hiding the sun on top of the dark curtains drawn, and it makes Sylus's rest a little more comfortable.
He's sound asleep beside you on his bed, but you're seated up on your phone, the sound of the rain also slowly luring you to grow sleepy. You stretch a little, careful not to wake the male beside you. Sylus grunts softly, and you feel his hair tickle your thighs.
Through your peripherals, something catches your attention. The black on white is undoubtedly hard to miss.
Now that Sylus seems dead asleep, you're considering taking a chance to take a closer look at his horns, and maybe even touch them.
Carefully, you shift your weight closer to Sylus, monitoring his expressions and movements. When the coast is clear, you lean closer, staring at his horns with much amazement. It's a lot different now that you're this up close to admire them.
His horns aren't simply a simple shade of jet black–at different angles, you notice how the scales of his horns shimmer like an oil spill under the soft light. Close up, the base of his horns are thick, and as it extends, it curls, almost fully wrapping around his head.
“So pretty”, you mutter to yourself. Your fingers are reached out as if by instinct, barely inches away from touching his pretty crown.
You pause, weighing the risks of attempting to touch his horns. How fucked would you be if you actually did?
Your eyes scan Sylus’s calm sleeping face. He doesn't seem to have even noticed his horns have grown out.
“It’s just a little touch, he won't feel it anyways”, you convince yourself softly, your resolve firming as your curiosity begins to bubble over your rationale.
You let your fingers brush his horn, feeling the cold and scaly texture beneath your fingertips. Your eyes are sparkling in amazement even more, now that your curiosity has been satisfied. You press your fingertips onto the appendage, enjoying how nice and cool it feels to the touch.
Just then, you hear Sylus groan slightly. Your hand immediately retracts before you fully freeze, watching the way he presses his head against your leg, his eyebrows slightly scrunched before it returns back to relaxed.
Close call.
You obviously don’t learn your lesson, because your fingers are on his horns almost immediately once more. You grow more curious about the feeling of running your palm across his horns this round.
So you do.
Your hand starts from the thick base, and you stroke it, following the horn's curl, enjoying the way the texture of the scales run smooth under your palm.
And then Sylus makes a sound beneath you. You squint in curiosity, wondering if you heard it right.
So you run your hand from his tip to the base this time.
And this time, Sylus lets out another moan. You definitely did not hear wrong.
Your cheeks are slowly flushing when you realise what you're doing to him. But for some reason, it makes you want to do it more.
So this is why he doesn't want you touching his horns?
With a cheeky smile, you run your fingers along his horns in various ways and places, eliciting more pretty and erotic reactions from Sylus.
You giggle to yourself, trying to ignore how he's making you aroused with all the noises he's making with every stroke you give his horns.
You want to go for the next round, wondering how far you can take this.
Obviously not very far, because the next time you do, Sylus’s hand catches your wrist before you're about to touch his horns again.
He stares at you with half-lidded eyes, pink dusted on his cheeks and his breathing shallow.
“Are you having fun, kitten?” He asks with a frown.
Fuck.
You feign a smile, trying to wave your hand from his grip, of course, your attempts futile.
Sylus’s other arm curls around your thighs, locking you from leaving the bed while Sylus lets his sleep leave his body from the rude interruption.
“Denying me of satisfying my curiosity only makes it worse”, you shrug. Well, if only Sylus had just let you have a little touch…
The corner of Sylus’s lips pull up to a half smirk.
“Right”, Sylus replies, a hint of annoyance and something else laced in his tone before he shifts above you in one swift motion, trapping you underneath him on his bed.
“Then, I'm sure you don't have to be reminded that actions have consequences?”
You swallow hard.
His hand that grabbed yours is placed on his chest, and he forces you to trail down his body, feeling his thick chest, then his abs under your touch, all the way down until he stops you right on his thick erection.
“You should take responsibility, don't you think?” Sylus asks with a raised eyebrow.
You know it's pointless even attempt to escape when he’s devouring your lips like he hasn't eaten in days. It's so intoxicating. You would never admit your greed, but Sylus knows you well enough to feed you so good. You want to pull him so impossibly close.
In between breathless kisses, your warm hands trail from his biceps to his shoulders, to his neck, and right to his hair.
You test waters–letting your fingers rake through his hair, grazing the base of his horns. You get his green light when he doesn't swat you off, on the contrary, it makes Sylus grow more desperate in the kiss.
You confidently stroke his horn, from base to tip once more, and the moans that leave Sylus’s lips sound like fucking heaven.
His crimson eyes finally meet yours, and he almost looks like he's in pain.
“If you keep doing that–ngh–” Sylus trails off with another strained moan when the sensation of you stroking his horn buzzes right to his cock that he has shut his eyes to hold back.
“This?” you tease, sliding your palm down to his base once more, rubbing the scaly appendage, watching him failing at trying to keep his composure.
“Fuck”, he hisses, diving into your lips once more, eating you up.
He pulls away briefly, pressing his lips just below your ear.
“You’re gonna be taking responsibility, kitten.”
He presses himself close onto you, so close that you feel his cock just pulsing against your pelvis, only separated by his black sweats. Sylus takes your chin in his fingers and steals your breath away once more, uncontrollably grunting with every stroke your hands play with his horns. You feel his cock twitch, then pulse before the feeling of warmth spreads across your skin, accompanied by a long, drawn out moan in your mouth.
It makes you dizzy with bliss, realising what you've done to him.
Sylus pulls away once more, catching his breath, his eyes reflecting something more feral when you met his.
But all you do is flash a cheeky smile at him, letting your fingers caress his cheek.
His fingers tug at the waistband of your shorts and he yanks them off, almost growing feral for the second time when his eyes meet the sight of the way your pussy is glistening so much that a wet and thin string of arousal sticks itself in between your pussy and your soaked panties.
Well, Sylus is holding the short end of the stick anyway, because when he tugs his sweats down, your heartbeat accelerates as your eyes land on his cock–thick, red and completely covered in white and thick cum, some staining his underwear, twitching slightly with dribbles of cum seeping past his cockhead when the fabric brushes past his balls.
He looks so fucking delicious when he's messy like that. Shit.
“You seem to be enjoying yourself, staring at me like that”, he teases. He doesn't even look embarrassed.
“Maybe I should play with your horns more often”, you reply with a smile. Sylus narrows his eyes at you, his expression mixed with annoyance and affection. His fingers press against your soaking clit, enjoying the way the smile on your face gets wiped, replaced with a contorted expression of pleasure when he rubs it in slow circles.
“I’m strongly against that idea, sweetie”, Sylus responds, leaning in to take in the expression of your mind slowly growing dumb and blank just from his slender fingers rubbing you out. “It’ll give you a little too much leverage over me.”
Through the hazy and building pleasure, you still manage to reply, “that's the whole point.”
Sylus only smiles at your reply, his fingers leaving your clit. You're about to protest, that is, until he grabs you by your hips, dragging you closer to him, then pressing your knees to your chest, before his wet cock slowly enters you from below. He watches your face contort in pleasure–your eyes rolling back and your eyebrows furrowed–while soaking in the fucking delicious feeling of your cunt warm and wrapped around his cock.
“S-so good”, you whimper, his fullness knocking out any ounce of breath and sense out of you at a dangerous pace the his cock inches even deeper into you.
“Such a nice and warm pussy hole”, Sylus grits, pushing himself even deeper, his control slipping when he's buried himself all the way in. “Fuck, you're so good for me, kitten.”
You're clawing his pillows when Sylus starts fucking you, and you're looking at Sylus with such a glazed out expression–and you know it drives him fucking crazy. His palm rests on the bulge that his cock is pushing every time he enters you, and it makes your thighs shake. Your moans grow in pitch and tone on top of the sounds of lewd wet skin slapping.
He lets you wrap your legs around his waist in return for letting him scatter love bites across your neck.
So you decide that it’s the perfect time to aim for his sensitive spots once more.
Your fingers tug against his scalp, then alternating to stroking his horns once more, throwing Sylus into another round of pleasured daze.
You feel his cock fill you up even more, and it makes you greedy to how far you can push it.
“I really should make you regret this”, Sylus mutters, failing to suppress another groan when your fingers scratch against the base.
His thrusts become more like ruts, his cockhead hitting your g-spot over and over as payback. Sylus sprouts a satisfied smirk as he watches you completely come undone on his cock. You throw your head back while stars flicker in and out of your vision. The pleasure is growing so fucking good that you're choking on your moans too.
“Right there! Fuck, that feels so fucking good, Sylus”, you sob through wet lashes and heavy pants.
Sylus is mesmerised by your pretty expressions and the pretty sounds you always make for him when he's breaking you apart.
Maybe you finding out about his sensitive horns is his punishment for indulging in these sick pleasures. Nonetheless, he still wouldn't have any other way.
Your hands find his horns once more, and he falters for a split second. But he doesn't shake you off since he's much too focused on trying to force an orgasm out of you.
Your pussy squeezes him before it starts uncontrollably fluttering against his cock. Ah, his goal is slowly being fulfilled.
As your orgasm dangles above you, you react with periodical squeezes on his cock and his horns, which definitely draws a much larger reaction from Sylus.
“So close”, you whine, your orgasm slowly filling the crevices of your brain, plunging you deep into pleasure. Your cunt clenches on his cock, and you unintentionally yank his horns.
Sylus fucking growls, pressing himself so fucking deep into you, his cum fucking spurting into you–so much that some is leaking out from your plugged pussy hole and onto the bed.
He pulls his cock out momentarily, letting his cum ooze from his cockhead, his eyes darting to the loads seeping out of your hole, before he slides his cock into you once more. You gasp at the fullness, another squeeze to his horns, which only stimulates Sylus once more, and his cock fills you up with another warm and sticky load.
He’s panting, but he musters his energy to meet your eyes.
“Sweetie”, he calls out to you amidst his dick attempting to take over his brain. “If you don't get your hands off, your pussy won't be able to hold anymore, I guarantee.”
He's met with a fucked-out and sly grin from his partner.
“And I thought you enjoyed challenges.”
Sylus scoffs at your comment, realising that he really has to teach his kitten a lesson to not touch things that aren't hers.
#love and deep space sylus#love and deepspace sylus#love and deep space smut#love and deepspace#lnds sylus#lnds smut#lnds x reader#l&ds sylus#l&ds smut#l&ds x reader#sylus x you#sylus qin#sylusposting#sylus smut#sylus x reader#sylus#lads sylus#slyus#qin che
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midnight check-in
synopsis: in the middle of the night, you are woken up by a call from your husband.
pairing: timeskip!bakugou katsuki x f!reader
the phone buzzes on the nightstand, dragging you from the edge of sleep. squinting at the glowing screen, you see katsuki’s name flashing across it.
it’s late—past the time he should have been home, but not unusual given the unpredictability of hero work. swiping the call open, you press the phone to your ear, voice still heavy with sleep.
“did I wake you?”
his voice is rough, but familiar, crackling through the line like static.
there’s no apology in his tone, but you can hear the subtle hint of concern buried underneath, like he’s weighing whether he should’ve waited until morning to call.
“no,” you lie, sitting up and adjusting to the quiet darkness of the room. “it’s fine. what’s up? are you coming home soon?”
there’s a brief pause on the other end. you hear the faint shuffle of his gear, like he’s shifting in his seat, maybe still in the office or the agency car. “yeah, I’ll be home in a bit. just… wanted to check in.”
check in? katsuki doesn’t just check in. the man’s explosive, stubborn, and blunt to a fault—never the type to dance around what’s on his mind. so, when he calls you this late just to ‘check in,’ something feels off.
“everything okay?” you ask softly, leaning back against the headboard. your fingers toy with the edge of the blanket, tracing small patterns over the fabric.
“yeah, just a long-ass day,” he grumbles, his voice a little lower now. he’s tired, you can tell, but there’s something else lurking in the background of his words.
“didn’t mean to be out so late. I know I said I’d be back before—”
“katsuki,” you cut him off gently. “you don’t have to apologize for doing your job. I know how it is.”
he lets out a frustrated huff, and you can almost picture him running a hand through his hair, the way he does when he’s feeling restless.
“still,” he mutters. “I said I’d be there, and I’m not. doesn’t sit right with me.”
your heart softens at that. even though his words are gruff, katsuki has always had a way of showing he cares—usually in his own roundabout, katsuki-style way.
“you’re here now,” you say, your voice a little warmer. “that’s what matters. I’m just glad you called.”
another pause, this one heavier. there’s a slight crackle from his end, like he’s shifting again, probably leaning back in whatever chair he’s stuck in, the tension still clinging to him.
“yeah, well… I didn’t wanna wake up and find out you’re pissed I didn’t get home.” there’s a touch of humor in his voice, and you can practically hear the smirk on his lips. “figured I’d save myself the trouble.”
you chuckle softly, shaking your head. “you’re not getting out of trouble that easily, katsuki.”
“darn,” he clicks his tongue, but the familiar grumble in his tone makes you smile. it’s his way of saying he missed you, without actually saying it.
for a moment, there’s just comfortable silence between you.
the sound of his steady breathing on the other end of the line makes your chest ache a little—wanting him here, not just on the other side of a phone.
“you almost home?” you ask quietly, the warmth of the blankets doing little to fill the empty space beside you.
“yeah.” his voice softens, dropping just enough that you can tell he’s not as guarded anymore. “should be there in about ten.”
“good,” you murmur, stifling a yawn as you sink further into the bed, imagining him walking through the door any minute now. “I’ll wait for you.”
there’s a beat, a moment where his breathing catches ever so slightly, before he grumbles again, but softer this time. “you don’t have to stay up for me, y/n.”
“I want to.”
the silence that follows feels different—warmer, like he’s smiling, even if you can’t see it. and maybe it’s the exhaustion in your voice, or the way you said it so matter-of-factly, but something in him shifts.
you hear him let out a quiet breath, the kind he only ever lets out when he’s alone with you.
“...you’re such a damn idiot,” he mutters, but there’s no bite to it. just warmth.
you smile into the phone, eyes already half-closed. “takes one to know one.”
he snorts at that, a rare sound of amusement that you love catching him off-guard with. “whatever. just keep your ass in bed. I’ll be there soon.”
“mhm,” you hum, already feeling the drowsiness tugging at you again, but there’s something in the comfort of his voice that keeps you tethered.
you shift slightly, hugging the blanket closer, waiting for the familiar click of the front door. before you drift off entirely, you murmur, “love you, katsuki.”
there’s a pause, and for a moment, you think he’s hung up. but then, quietly, with all the weight of a promise, he replies.
“yeah. love you too.”
the call ends with a soft click, but even after, the warmth of his voice lingers in the quiet room. you smile to yourself, feeling the space beside you growing less empty by the minute.
kofi — navigation — masterlist
do not copy, translate, or plagarize
#bakugo x female reader#bakugo x reader#bakugo x y/n#bakugou x you#bnha x reader#bakugou x y/n#bakugou katsuki x you#bakugou katsuki x reader#bakugo x you#bakugou x reader#bakugou x fem!reader#katsuki x y/n#katsuki x reader#katsuki x you#katsuki bakugou x reader#katsuki bakugou x you#katsuki bakugou x female reader#mha x reader#bnha x y/n
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▷ What You Need
Sypnosis . In which your dad, who’s worked closely with jujutsu sorcerers his entire life, finally allows you to meet his best friend— who’s half-curse, half-human, and 100% your type. / Pairing . dbf!Choso x fem!reader / Content . afab!reader, age gap (reader is 20 & Choso is like 150 lol), jjk au, pet names (baby, princess, sweetheart, etc), dry humping, teasing, reader’s pretty blunt, dirty talk, Choso is so soft with the reader, heavy tension, filth, pussy slapping, squirting, creampie, semi-soft sex, semi-rough sex, overstim, etc . / wc . 10k (heh..)
A/N: I can’t even explain where this idea came from. Just know I was listening to ‘What You Need’ by The Weeknd & then my mind went from there. If you have Daddy issues, you’re welcome. [MDNI]
You wanted to fuck him.
Plain and simple, straight to the point, your first impression of your father’s best friend was that you wanted to have sex with him. Unfortunately for you, the problem with such fantasies was that you had a boyfriend at the time.
A really really shitty one but, still. You were in a relationship when you first met Choso. And you remember meeting the man so clearly too— partially because you ran right into him, and also because one conversation with him had you forgetting your sorry excuse of a boyfriend’s name.
——
You were yawning as you glided down the flight of stairs of your home with your phone in your hand, the smell of coffee simmering into your nose, and a deep unfamiliar voice heard coming from your kitchen.
And to think you nearly regret coming home to your father’s estate for the summer. You’d left all your friends in the city just to come out to the countryside and spend time with your parents. More specifically, your father.
The first week home you were bored out of your mind. The most exciting part of your day would be a lengthy phone call with your best friend about whatever drama you’d missed out on while you were out of town.
Your mother was out on a business trip and your father spent most days holed up in his office despite pleading for you to spend the summer home. The days dragged on and the hours felt endless.
Up until a rather particular Friday morning.
Time and time again over the years, your father had always mentioned one name when it came to his friends; Choso Kamo, his best friend. For whatever work-related reason, your dad always told you that you weren’t allowed to meet the guy. And yet, something had changed— apparently, the man needed a place to stay for a few months.
And yeah, sometime throughout Thursday night you briefly remember talking to your father about meeting the mysterious ‘Choso Kamo’ the next day but, you didn’t expect to run into the guy first thing that following morning.
Standing in the middle of your kitchen as you’d carelessly waltzed in, large hands latching onto your waist from the initial contact of your forehead meeting his chest, and husky deep tone hitting your ears with a sexy, “Woah,” The man uttered, causing your body to tense up from head to toe, “Careful, sweetheart.”
His voice was heavy in such a low purr, prompting a chill to slip down your spine before you angled your head up to look at the source of such a tone. An immediate lump was caught in your throat and you think you forgot how to speak properly because you’re blurting out a startled little curse before you even realize it.
“Sorry I-, damn.” You breathe out in reaction to the man in front of you.
His hands, which you’re only just now realizing are at your sides, are steady to leave you after assuring you’re not going to fall forward. The deepest set of dewy brown eyes settle on your face and you think you’re in love. Dark bags from lack of sleep weigh sexily beneath his low-lidded eyes, a jet black shade of ink is printed across the bridge of his nose, not a single blemish in sight, and a sweet yet masculine scent rushes into your nose all at once.
It was as though God decided to deliver an angel directly to you in the form of a very very attractive man— only thoughts of sin clouding your mind as he tips his head to the side and studies your face carefully, the messy strands of hair at his forehead swaying slightly with his little movement.
And then this man, whose skin noticeably has a deep red undertone, has the nerve to smirk at you. Pretty plump rose-tinted lips curve so suavely that you’re staring way harder than you meant to and watching his mouth move as he says something to you once more.
Although, you don’t hear a thing he says. You’re in a daze, stuck staring so rudely at his lips and how perfect they appear until your name is said.
You flinch and lift your gaze to meet his, “H-Huh?” You stammer, getting flustered all over again by the intense eye contact.
He lets out the softest little chuckle and you can feel your heart swooning, “I asked if you were alright,” The brunette repeats for you, studying your eyes closely, “You walked right into me so…”
“I-I’m fine,” You stutter before clearing your throat and taking a slight step back to gather yourself. That rich scent of cologne oozing off of his body was making you dizzy with desire, “Sorry for walking into you.”
That smile on his face only seems to grow softer, “It’s alright,” He says, soon extending a hand out to you, “I’m sure your father wanted to introduce us to one another but, this works too. I’m Choso-“
“Kamo,” You finish for him as you meet his hand with your own, shaking it firmly, “I-, wait,” You can finally feel the thumping of your heart settling down— meaning you can return to a proper reaction to that information, “You’re my dad’s best friend?”
Choso gives you a little nod, “I am,” He hums before eyeing you up and down, “And you’re…” His eyes freeze somewhere for a split second but then he’s snapping them back up to your face, “A lot older than I thought.”
Your brows pinch together, “I’m sorry? How old did my dad say I was?”
“That’s the thing, he didn’t say at all. I just assumed you were a little girl,” He admits, finally retracting his hand from yours after becoming overly aware of the way your thumb was slipping across his knuckles while you shook his hand. “And as we can see,” He lets off a little scoff, “You’re far from that.”
The way your eyes widen at that has him rushing to correct himself.
“Well, n-not that that’s a bad thing, I just-, I mean, you’re a grown woman and I wasn’t expecting that,” Choso manages out quickly.
Then you’re chuckling and it’s like a sweet melody to his ears, his entire facial expression simmering to a look of ease. “It’s okay, I know what you meant,” You tell him, flashing the prettiest smile he thinks he’s ever set his eyes on, “After all, I was expecting an old wrinkly man but no, Dad brings home some 6ft sex symbol with tatts.”
His brows meet for a second as he bats his lashes at you as if to see if you were gonna realize what you just said. Little did he know, you’re aware of what you said and you meant every syllable— boldly making your attraction to him known from the very beginning.
And maybe that was where it all started. Maybe that was the calm before the storm of whatever it is you’d call the things you and Choso experience over the remainder of the summer.
Because after that little encounter, you and Choso get along a little too well.
——
The first day was a breeze. After getting friendly with one another in the kitchen, you were sure to skip over to your father’s office and inform him of having already met his best friend so he wouldn’t try to awkwardly introduce you two later.
Your dad made sure to ask you how you felt about his best friend staying there for a few months— to which you explained that you didn’t care too much, you’d be leaving back to the city for school again in like a month and a half so who cares?
That, and why on earth would you complain about that sexy curse living just down the hall from you?? Which was another thing in itself, you were aware of what he was, your dad briefly explained it to you before which is all the more reason why you expected some old wrinkly person.
As such, you needed to express your infatuation to someone as soon as possible. And what better victim than your best friend back in the city?
Now laying on your stomach across your old bed, your legs swing back and forth in the air as you thoughtlessly chat it up with your friend, “No, you don’t get it. He’s sooo hot,” You exclaim for like the millionth time since the call connected.
She chuckles from the other end, “Girl, this is your sixth time reminding me within the past thirty minutes, I think I get it.”
“But you don’t,” You whine dramatically, “His eyes, they’re so pretty, the prettiest brown eyes I’ve ever seen-, ugh,” Your face drops down into one of your pillows for a second as you smile to yourself and recall the countless times you and Choso have made eye contact, “And the way he smells— like fuckin’… roses or something, but roses in the middle of a dark rainforest with-“
“Okay, okay,” Your friend laughs, “We get it. He smells good. What’s next? You’re gonna tell me about how you want this guy, who’s probably in his forties, to fuck you on the nearest surface as soon as possible-“
“Yes,” You huff, “Yes, I do. I want him to fuckin’ ruin me.”
The sound of your friend scoffing can be heard, “Uh, I think you’re forgetting something.”
Your face scrunches up, “What?”
“You have a boyfriend,” She scarcely reminds you, her tone light and gentle with you.
To which you roll your eyes, “Oh whatever. You mean the same ‘boyfriend’ who cheated on me two months ago? The same asshole who I’ve given chance after chance even though he treats me like shit? The ‘boyfriend’ who took like two hours to make me cum that one time? The guy I literally told you I’m gonna break up with soon??”
“W-Well,” She lets out a heavy sigh, “Yeah… that asshole. I know you’re leaving him soon but please don’t go fucking your dad’s best friend before you break things off with him-“
“I’m not stooping down to his level, don’t worry,” You hum softly as you flip over to lay on your back, “Though… I did consider it.”
“Seriously?” She scoffs in surprise.
You nibble on your lower lip and smirk, “You don’t get how hot Choso is.”
Your best friend chuckles, “Girl.”
“I’m jus’ saying! I can’t even think of any other guy when he’s around. He’s so…” As you continue your ramble about the small crush you’ve developed for your father’s best friend— you’re completely clueless about the man having heard almost everything.
Choso wasn’t spying on you or anything, he was simply walking down the hall and happened to hear a thing or two since your door was left cracked open. And sure, he took the slightest peak inside to spot you resting atop your bed but he was about to walk away until he heard you describing him.
Of course he was inclined to stop and listen to you ramble about his appearance— he thought it was cute. He’d seen how you’ve been looking at him anyway, he’s not dumb.
The problem is that you’re his best friend’s daughter. The last thing he should be doing is taking any kind of romantic or sexual interest in you. You were off-limits in his mind.
Or at least, you’re supposed to be.
——
But God do you make things difficult.
You and Choso share your small interactions in the morning usually, asking each other how you slept and whatnot, basically making casual small talk every morning. You learn more and more about the man, asking him questions about what it’s like being half-curse and half-human, questions about his cursed technique and the things he can do.
Most of which he waters down for you since, even though your father’s a part of the jujutsu sorcery world, you aren’t. You know a few basic things like how cursed energy works but that’s about it so Choso keeps his answers to you very simple.
That aside, you are a goddamn enigma to Choso. He’s always caught between wanting to stare at you for hours on end and knowing he shouldn’t have his eyes on you for longer than five minutes because then his mind’s drifting elsewhere.
But again, you make it so fucking difficult.
One hot Tuesday morning, Choso notices he hadn’t run into you in the spacey kitchen of your father’s estate yet. He was busy making the same coffee he prepares daily, wondering what time you were gonna make your way downstairs. He can’t lie to himself, he has grown quite attached to your little morning talks with him.
Tapping his fingers across the counter as he watches his coffee brew, his ears suddenly perk up at the sound of a splash. Lifting his attention, Choso glances back over his shoulder to the direction of which the sound came from— looking out the large sliding glass door that leads out to the pool and wondering if your father was out there or something.
To his everloving surprise, the source of that sound is anything but your dad. It’s actually you, swimming around peacefully until you’re floating toward the edge of the pool, right in Choso’s line of vision as you lift yourself up.
Everything moves in slow motion like some cliche film, Choso’s eyes widening at the water rolling down your body and the goddamn bikini you have on. Holding yourself up on the edge of the pool, not yet exiting the small body of water yet, Choso finds himself studying every inch of you (that’s visible at least).
And then, as you finally push up, there’s that natural arch in your back that has Choso swallowing-, no, gulping down something thick in his throat. His lips are parting and he’s letting out a breath of air he didn’t realize he was keeping in as he watches those small droplets of water glide down along your glistening wet skin.
And fuck when you’re out of the water and you lift your arms into the air to stretch, your body on full display to the man— slick with water, exposed skin sparkling beneath the morning sunlight, and that bikini leaving hardly anything to the imagination.
Choso has to physically fight himself to rip his eyes off of you, turning back to the coffee in front of him and clearing his throat. The image of you in that bathing suit is doing wonders for these wandering thoughts he’d been trying to avoid. You were so wet— literally soaked before his very greedy eyes, your entire body dripping in sex appeal, and the sight of you like that steadily rushing heat down to his c-
The sound of the sliding door opening makes Choso flinch like crazy. He lets out a little huff and glances back to see you with a towel now wrapped around your waist.
Your tits were sitting so prettily in that bright red bikini top-
“Morning’ Mr. Kamo,” You greet sweetly as you enter the kitchen.
Choso gulps down his nerves, “Mornin’ princess,” He says casually whilst moving to grab his mug of coffee.
That little pet name he’d randomly picked up for you somewhere along the line makes your heart warm every time you hear it. A smile forms on your face as you approach his side and glance around his little setup for coffee making, “Aw, you didn’t make me one this time?” You say with a little pout on your face as you glance at him.
He shrugs, “Didn’t know you were up yet.” Then Choso avoids looking in your direction at all costs by turning to the other counter to grab a spoon, “What made you go for a swim this early?”
“I dunno but,” You hum, following right behind him and approaching his side once more as you watch him stir nothing into his coffee, “You should join me next time.”
He swears his entire body heats up as you say that. Just the thought of being in the pool with you, hardly clothed, swimming together, and wetting each other up makes his mind spin. “Dunno if that’s a good idea, sweetheart,” Choso says casually, as if he wasn’t having thoughts of pressing you against one of those poolsides and-
“Hm?” You bat your lashes up at him and he glances at your face for a split second before ripping his eyes off you, “Why not?”
“What would your dad think?” Choso sighs, continuing to stir nothing into his coffee as if that’ll help him forget about you standing half-naked beside him.
You scoff, “Nothing? It’s just you and me swimming together.”
Choso rolls his eyes at your innocence, “Alone,” He adds on, “Me and you swimming alone together.”
“Are we supposed to have an audience?” You tease, leaning closer to him and entering his peripheral line of vision, “Or, are you uncomfortable being alone with me?”
He freezes, slowly turning his head to look down at you, “Not at all,” Choso quickly tells you, “Being alone with you like that is just…”
Your eyes widen slightly in anticipation and he can feel his body warming again. Then, you glance off to the side innocently, “…Tempting?” You offer.
To which he answers without thinking, “Exactly.”
You part your lips to say something snarky in response but he’s moving away from you yet again. Cursing himself mentally for letting that slip. He didn’t want you to realize he was growing just as interested in you as you were him.
Then, with perfect timing, your father comes from around the corner with his mouth wide open as he lets out a hefty yawn.
“Mornin’ you two,” Your dad grumps as he shuffles his feet toward the fridge.
Choso had somehow made his way to the island in the middle of the kitchen already, now sitting comfortably on one of the three bar stools, his eyes low on his phone screen as he lifted his cup to his lips, “Good morning.”
Your eyes are directly on the man as you replay his response to you moments ago over and over in your brain. The nerve he had to go and sit down casually as if he didn’t just he didn’t just imply something very-
“Daughter,” Your dad sighs out, to which you snap out of your daze and glance at him.
“Father,” You hum in response.
He looks at you, sending you a kind and tired little smile, “I’ll be gone for a few days for business, you okay with that?” He asks, subtly nodding his head back at Choso and silently asking if you’re comfortable being alone for a few days with the man.
Of course, you have to physically contain your excitement— being alone with Choso means no more interruptions like what had just happened, “Yeah, that’s fine by me.” You say with a little shrug.
Your father nods at that and then tends back to the fridge to prepare himself something. You smile to yourself before tiptoeing your eyes back over to Choso, only to find his eyes already on you.
All of you, drinking in the sight of you in that damn bikini top before he boldly and directly cracks a lazy smirk and lifts his gaze to your face. You can feel a wave of heat rushing to your cheeks as he tilts his head and sends you a little wink from across the kitchen— bluntly letting you know that he’s thinking the same thing you are and your excitement is mutual.
——
Day one alone with Choso was actually really fun. The two of you spent time together in your father’s massive basement, lounging around together and even indulging in a friendly game of pool.
It was nice, comforting even, to have Choso around. He was very respectful and kind with you, subtle with flirting with you because he didn’t want the true levels of his desire to be known, and so gentle with you that it made your heart turn to mush every single time.
Day two was even better. You both finally went on that swim you offered— to which you nearly drooled when he first stripped himself of his shirt, eyeing his washboard abs that were decorated with such pretty scars from previous fights he’s had.
The two of you just swam and talked, you’d splash him a bit every now and then and he’d splash you back whenever you uttered something way too flirtatious.
At some point you felt like that was his way of turning you down. Sure, he was interested in you but, Choso had his way of silently telling you it wasn’t gonna happen. Or at least, it shouldn’t happen.
Day three was when things changed. Well, night three specifically.
Choso was in the kitchen, where the two of you always seem to run into each other, sitting on his favorite bar stool while working on something on his laptop until he heard you coming downstairs. His ears twitched and he glanced up to see if you were coming into the kitchen a few times, noticing your steps sounded oddly determined.
When you do enter the kitchen, the enter mood shifts. Choso opens his mouth to greet you since it’s past midnight and he hadn’t seen you in a few hours but he freezes when he sees the look on your face.
Flushed and fuming with emotion, your breathing unsteady and ragged as if you’d been crying, and your hands shaky as you make way for one of the wine cabinets. He almost doesn’t move. Choso sits there in shock for a minute, watching you rush to grab a glass and a bottle of alcohol at random, slamming it down on the kitchen island and moving to find something to open the bottle with.
It’s then that Choso’s standing to his feet and walking toward you, “Hey, hey,” He coos, seeing the frustration in your face as you jerk a drawer open with an upset pout on your face, “What’re you doing? What’s wrong?” Choso asks as he nears your side.
You don’t even look at him, pulling your lower lip into your mouth and biting back tears. “I-Isn’t it obvious?” You snap back in an annoyed tone, responding to his first question and first question alone as you swipe up a corkscrew out the drawer and push it shut with your hip.
Then you shuffle back over to the island where your unopened bottle and wine glass are sitting. Your hands are shaking due to the rush of adrenaline throughout your body and Choso follows your every move, standing to your left as he leans against the counter and tilts his head at you.
He carefully moves to slide the bottle of alcohol away from you, which earns him an angry glare from you. Choso only grins kindly at your expression, “Aren’t you a little too young to be drinking?” He teases.
You scoff, in no mood for his teasing right now, “Oh fuck off, I’m twenty years old.”
“I know,” He says calmly, his tone as soft and sweet as ever, “But the legal age for drinking is twenty-one, no?”
“Depends on where you live,” You huff, reaching for the bottle once more only to receive his hand being placed over yours.
You freeze and Choso tilts his head a little more, “Talk to me, pretty,” He hushes out, inching closer to your ear and furthering the softness of his deep rich voice, “What happened?”
You can feel yourself melting at the warmth his body brings as he gets closer to you, your breath hitching slightly due to his attentive curiosity, “My… My boyfriend jus’ broke up with me,” You grit out.
He can tell you’re more upset than you are saddened but either way, he wants to help you, “The asshole you told me about?”
“Uhuh,” You nod, making a small attempt to pull that bottle toward you again.
Choso smirks and his fingers weave through yours slightly before pulling your hand away and pinning it to the counter, “So talk to me about it, princess,” He hushes out, “The last thing you need is alcohol right now.”
You’re quiet for a few seconds before you sniffle, relaxing under his small touch, “Well… I just, I hate feeling like this.”
“Like what?” He whispers, carefully rubbing his thumb against the soft skin of your hand.
“I was gonna break up with him but he fucking beat me to it and now I just-, I dunno, I feel like shit,” You huff out before you slowly turn your head to look at him again.
Your eyes are all glossy and your lashes are noticeably wet, a small tear slipping down your cheek. Choso moves without thinking.
Taking his hand off of yours and bringing his palm to cup your cheek, watching you lean into his touch as he thumbs that tear of yours away, “You feel like shit?” He repeats.
Nodding against his hand, you mumble a little response, “M-Mhm.”
“I’d love to say you shouldn’t but,” His gaze kindly flicks back and forth between your left and right eyes, “I understand. Break-ups are hard.”
You pout, “They shouldn’t be. He was fucking terrible to me. I was supposed to break things off, not him. H-He doesn’t get to just do that. It’s not fair.” Your voice comes out in a slight whine at the end and he can see your eyes glossing over again.
“I know, I know,” Choso coos, bringing his other hand to your vacant cheek and cupping your face in his big hands.
“Do you?” You unintentionally huff out to him, “Have you ever even-“
He scoffs playfully, “Yes, princess. I’ve had multiple relationships in my lifetime.”
You snort, “‘In my lifetime’, you make yourself sound old as hell,” A slight grin forms on your face amist your sorrows and it makes his heart churn.
Choso’s gaze rakes over your face in his hands, “Baby, how old do you think I am?”
“I dunno,” You shrug, “You look like you’re not even a day over twenty five.”
He smirks, “Do I?”
“Mhm. How old are you?”
“A hundred ‘n fifty.”
You choke, “Holy shit, seriously??” You gape as your eyes widen in surprise.
“Yeah…” Choso trails off for a moment, tipping his head to the side, “Does that scare you?”
You almost laugh at that, “What? No, I love older men,” As you say that, there’s almost a look of bliss on your face.
To which sparks Choso’s interest as if he hadn’t picked up on that fact a long time ago, “Oh?”
“I-I mean-, wait,” You stammer, looking away from him, “N-No-, actually, yeah… I meant that.”
“Careful,” Choso says simply, “You’re gonna make me think the wrong thing if you speak like that.”
Slowly, your eyes trail back over to him and he removes his hands from your face, “Would that be so bad?” You murmur, leaning closer to him ever so slightly.
His eyes bore directly into yours, “Yes. You’re my best friend’s child.”
Your face twists up, “Yeah but I’m not literally a child.”
“I know-“
“So don’t treat me like one,” You cut off, gazing intently up into his mesmerizing brown eyes.
His look softens, “I’m sorry if I have.”
“Don’t see me as one either,” You continue, earning a light scoff from his lips.
Choso shrugs, “I don’t.”
“You don’t?” Your eyes widen slightly and the room feels so unbelievably warm right now.
“Never have,” Choso admits, licking his lips for a moment before continuing, “Even though I should be.”
Your brows furrow, “Why?”
He flashes a small smile, “I’m literally seven times your age.”
“So?”
“So this-,” He gestures between the two of you, “Whatever ‘this’ may even refer to, is horribly wrong in so many ways.”
You roll your eyes and cross your arms, “But ‘this’ isn’t anything yet.”
“Yet?” Choso echoes.
“Oh c’mon, Mr. Kamo,” You purr, “The only reason we haven’t given in to what we both want is because I had a boyfriend.”
“Choso,” He corrects, “I’ve told you to call me Choso.”
Your gaze becomes noticeably sultry as you lower your eyelids and soften your voice, “I know, sorry sir.”
“Stop that,” He huffs, glancing off to the side.
You lean toward the direction he’s looking off to and fein innocence, “Stop what, sir?”
“That.” Choso rasps, clearing his throat seconds later to collect himself.
“Why?” You urge, inching closer and boldly speaking your mind, “Does it turn you on?”
He scoffs but you see his lips twitching into a smirk, “No.”
Growing curious, your brows pinch together, “Wait, does anything turn you on?”
“Huh?” Choso breathes before looking at you.
“Like, since you’re half-curse… does that affect your bodily functions or anything? Can you even get aroused-“
He lets out a chuckle in reaction to your ignorance, “Yes, yes I can.”
“Really?” Sparkles seem to light up in your eyes and it doesn’t go unnoticed.
“I’m more human than I am curse.” He states simply.
You smirk, “Everywhere?”
“Yes, everywhere.”
“Like… even your c-“
“Yes.” He cuts off, “Now stop it.”
Your lower lip gets caught in between your teeth, “Stop what?”
“Trying to get me to have a sexual conversation with you,” Choso says in a commanding tone before taking a respectful slight step back.
“I want a lot more than just a conversation,” You whisper loud enough for him to hear.
Choso becomes cold with you in an instant, “And I don't care, it’s not happening.”
At that, there are several twinges in your heart. You grit your teeth and turn for that not-so-forgotten bottle of alcohol, quickly popping it open and pouring yourself a glass. Then, before Choso can even react, you’re gulping it down and he’s sighing in defeat.
After which, you send him an annoyed glare and he frowns softly at you, “Princess-“
“Don’t call me that.” You cut off curtly, licking the bit of liquid intoxication that rests on your lips.
His eyes flicker down for a split second, “Why? ‘Cause I won’t fuck you like you want me to?” Choso asks boldly.
“I-, yeah…” You utter, “Y-Yeah. That’s exactly why I don’t want you to call me that.”
He shakes his head softly and moves to push the bottle away from you again, “I told you alcohol isn’t what you needed.”
“What I ‘need’ won’t let me have him,” You say, pouting yet again.
Choso sighs as he returns his eyes to your face, grinning at your expression as he lifts a hand to your chin, “You don’t ‘need’ me.”
You lean into his touch instantly, “I do-“
“You want me,” Choso corrects, his gaze narrowing on your mouth as his thumb wipes up a small slip of alcohol that missed your lips.
“No” You huff, tipping your head toward his thumb and pushing your lips against the pad of it, “I need you.”
The man can feel his resistance thinning, “You need me?” He echoes lowly, his voice dropping suddenly.
“Yes, I-“
“Need me to what, exactly?” Choso’s thumb applies slight pressure to your lips before he’s parting them and feeling against your lower lip. Then, before you can even answer, he’s looking into your eyes and leaning close to you, “Hm? Need me to fuckin’ ‘ruin’ you?” He quotes.
You were too caught up in experiencing his teasing to realize he gave away the fact that he heard one of your previous phone calls, “Please?”
“Say it,” Choso whispers as his free hand slips over to your waist.
“I need-“
“Want.” He scolds, weighing your bottom lip down a bit.
You whine, “But-“
“Speak properly to me ‘nd I might give you what you want,” Choso says.
You perk up at that, “I want you to ruin me, Choso.”
He takes a deep breath and leans in, “I shouldn’t.” The man whispers to you.
Your eyes are lowering to his lips, “But you want it to,” You point out, yearning for the soon connection of his lips to yours, “I know you do.”
“You don’t know anything,” He argues.
“Choso, you’ve been undressing me with your eyes from the moment you first set them on me.” You refute in a low whisper
“I…” He trails off— refusing to deny or agree with that.
The way your arms unfold and you slowly bring your hands to his shoulders, leaning in and tilting your head, has him in a trance, “Just take me.”
He chokes, “I won’t.”
You scoff, “Then I’m turning back to my drink…”
“No. Instead,” Choso swallows thickly and retracts his hand from your face. “We can do something else.”
You miss his touch already, “Like what?”
“Watch a movie.”
“We both know exactly what that’s going to lead to.”
It’s then that he seems to finally give in, “Let it lead there then since you want it so bad.”
——
And that’s why you don’t regret coming home for the summer. Because how else would you have ended up like this?
Yeah, you and Choso watched some random movie together to get your mind off things but, just like you’d said— you both knew what it’d lead to and it did. After the movie, you find yourself asleep, all your emotions and adrenaline having caught up on you.
The thing is, you fell asleep on Choso. He was right there with you, deep in his slumber just as you were for a while. So perhaps that’s how you ended up the way you are now.
Both of you had woken up to your body right in front of Choso’s. He was laid out against the stretch of the couch, his head resting on a pillow that was propped up against the armrest of the couch. You both woke up at the same time and you were lying on your side.
He had an arm around your waist and his crotch was flush with your ass. Slowly, you turned your head back to look at him and he met your gaze intimately. Lifting his head slightly from the pillow, leaning in toward you, moving a hand to angle your head up some more, his thumb gently rubbing against your chin.
“Choso,” You whispered, earning a groggy little hum from him.
His eyes lower on your lips. So soft, they look so fucking soft. He’s always thought that but the closeness right now and the dim lighting coming from the TV was killing him, “What?” Choso whispers, “Y’still want it?”
You shake your head, “Not ‘it’ Choso, you.”
He gulps and begins to inch his face closer to yours, his breath carefully hitting your lips as he whispers to you, “You sure? Once we start… I won’t hold back.”
“Don’t want you to,” You utter, trying to lean up to him some more.
He smirks at that, “Alright…” Then his lips are practically on yours, “Jus’ remember you asked for this.”
That’s the last thing said before he’s kissing you, lightly too. Choso’s always so gentle with you as if he fears you’ll break.
And hell, maybe after tonight you will have been broken. Because what starts out as a slow testing taste of lips, soon turns hot and needy. His tongue glides past your moist lips, eager to taste you, to feel you, to make you feel good.
Then his hand is sliding down your body, ghosting your chest before he pulls away for a second to whisper, “Can I touch you?”
“Yeah…” You utter, trying desperately to place your lips back on his.
He smirks, “Where?”
“Everywhere, Cho. M’all yours,” You claim.
Choso groans as his lips press into yours again, his hand sliding down just to slip under your shirt and grab a very firm hold of your breast. His touch is gentle for a second but then he’s squeezing the fat of your boob in his hand, his lips slipping over yours eagerly.
He’d only pull away for air for a split second before he’s sucking on your bottom lip again, intertwining his tongue with yours, and shifting his hand under your bra to wrap his fingers around your perky nipple. He gives the sensitive bud a small little pinch to test the waters and grins at the way you whine.
“Like that?” He whispers gingerly into your mouth.
You nod and the rest of your body is simply squirming against his, his cock twitching behind the fabric of his pants at the way your ass rubs against him just right. Choso rocks his hips forward ever so slightly, pressing his erection against you and nibbling on your lower lip hungrily.
Your mouth was so damn sweet— he just couldn’t get enough. Touching all over your breasts, pinching and lightly tugging at your nipples just to feel you moan against him. Then his hands, which are just so big, simply knead your breast within his palm as his mouth slides off of yours and he begins kissing your neck.
“You’re so tense, sweetheart,” Choso whispers into your skin, his warm breath tickling your neck, “Relax f’me.”
You let out a small sigh, “I’m tryin’…”
He smiles against you, “You nervous?” Choso asks as his hand slides out of your bra and rests against your stomach.
“No,” You huff.
Then, Choso’s moving to sit up and you move with him. He slips back against the armrest of the chair, his hands going to your hips to pull you on top of his lap with your back still facing him.
Choso’s hand trails to your stomach once more as his lips near your ear, “Lean back f’me, baby.” He guides, feeling the way you do just that and rest yourself against his chest, “There you go,” God his voice had you soaked, “Lemme take care of you, princess.”
You gulp loudly at that, your breathing beyond unsteady as you comfort yourself in his lap. His chest is so firm against your back, the feeling of his heart pounding within his ribcage so vividly felt behind you— he was just as anxious and nervous as you were. Cute.
His lips meet the space just behind your ear and his hands slither around your body. Choso carefully positions his fingertips at your inner thighs, “Do I have to guide you through everything, hm?” He hums playfully.
“N-No but,” Your eyes are glued to his big veiny hands playing with the skin of your legs, “I like the way you talk me through it.”
“Yeah?” He hushes out, “Alright then, go ‘head ‘nd spread your legs for me, pretty girl.”
You’re so horny you can hardly think straight. The air feels heavy and every touch from the older man has your skin tingling and your pussy pooling. As your thighs part, Choso’s quick to move his fingers to the waistband of your shorts, teasing you by running his fingertips under it.
“Tha’s it,” He purrs, “So good f’me.”
Your hips lift involuntarily as if to force his fingertips where you want them but he moves to grip onto you.
Choso snickers at your eagerness, “Patience, baby. I’m tryin’ to take my time with ya’,” He admits, pressing his lips into the crown of your ear, “Wanna show you what sex is supposed to feel like.”
“H-Huh?” You gape in a breathy tone, “Choso, y’know m’not a virgin, right?”
He grins, “Mhm, I know. But that doesn’t mean we can’t take things slow for a bit,” He explains lowly, steadily pulling your shorts down as you help him with small wiggles of your hips, “Plus,” His middle and ring finger inch toward your panties, lips curving into a smile at the noticeably damp red fabric, “I gotta prep you anyway.”
You scoff, “For what? Is your dick that big?”
He shrugs, running the pad of his middle finger over your clothed center lightly, “You’ll find out soon enough.” Choso promises.
Then, he’s tugging your panties to the side, biting his lip as your cunt is exposed to him. Choso’s such a tease, caressing your soaked hole but not yet pushing his fingers in, kissing the side of your neck as he taunts you until you’re whining for him.
“Cho-“
“Two hours, right?” He suddenly asks. Your brows furrow and he senses your confusion, smirking slightly, “Your ex, he took two hours to make you cum one time, no?”
“I-,” Your jaw drops slightly as Choso easily draws his finger up to your clit, tracing soft circles around it, “H-How do you know about that?”
“Heard you talkin’ about him a few weeks back,” He whispers to you, “S’kinda sad, y’know. Two hours?” As he casually converses with you, his finger is providing you with slow stimulation.
You rest your head back against his shoulder, “Uhuh… he couldn’t figure anything out.” You explain as a pout pulls at your lips.
For whatever reason, that seems to boost Choso’s ego a bit. As such, his fingers dip back down and finally start pushing into you, “Oh yeah? Bet I can make you cum in two minutes.”
A brief chuckle leaves your lips, “He said the same thing…” You huff.
To which Choso scoffs, delving his fingers deep past your folds and groaning at that slick squelch that enters the air. “He’s not me, princess. Listen to how wet this pussy is f’me already,” The man taunts as he works a careful pace inside you, “So tight too… shit.”
The first moan you let out makes his cock twitch against your ass. Your lips part and you let out heavy breaths as Choso fingers you skillfully, talking you through his every movement.
“Tell me somethin’ baby,” Choso says, pushing another finger into you and curling his fingertips upward against your gummy walls, “When’s the last time you touched yourself?”
You pant, “Hah… U-Uh, I dunno…”
“Oh c’mon, don’t lie t’me,” He scoffs. He can’t help but watch the way his fingers disappear inside your cunt, your slick coating his skin and making the most obscene noises imaginable.
“Maybe last week,” You eventually utter in response to him, words coming out all in one short breath.
His cock is felt throbbing against your ass, hips rolling up slightly for the slightest bit of friction, “Yeah? Who’d you think about when you touched yourself? Hm?” The curse asks.
“Y-You, Choso,” You admit honestly, recalling the week prior when you had the man in mind as you relieved yourself.
He lets out a throaty grunt. The thought of you touching yourself to him was making his tip drip excessively within his boxers. “Mmh. Thought about me?” Choso huffs, fingering you a bit faster now as he searches for a particular spot.
When he finds it, you moan, “Yeah.”
“Fuck…” Choso groans against your ear, “Thought about me doin’ what? This?” He emphasizes his words with a firm rub of his fingertips against your sweet spot and watching your sloppy pussy drip off of his knuckles.
“Yes Choso,” You gasp with your back arching off of him.
He bites his lip, “Anything else?”
His two thick fingers pick up in pace, pumping deeply in and out of you and earning pretty moans from your moist lips. You were losing your mind. Choso’s fingers were so damn skillful and deep inside you, dragging his touch all along your walls, and digging into your g-spot over and over again.
“I-, ah… I thought about you-,” You mumble in between your moans, “Mmgh, f-fuckin’ me.”
“Where?” He purrs, his fingers swiveling inside you and making you gasp loudly, “How? Gimme details, pretty.”
“E-Everywhere-, fuck, right there… ‘Specially the kitchen, wanted you to bend me over the counter so many times…” You whine, cunt clenching around his fingers desperately.
He places a small kiss on your cheek and whispers, “Shoulda’ said somethin’.”
“You wouldn’t have done it,” You argue through slightly gritted teeth.
As you do so, your hips are lifting to meet his fingers while they thrust inside you. Your moans become more constant, more confident even, as he explores your pussy with his two fingers.
“I might after today,” Choso hushes out before pulling his fingers out of you for a split second just to deliver your cunt with a messy little slap that has you spasming.
“Please,” You mewl, your legs threatening to close on him as he rubs his fingers over your cunt in a sloppy manner, smearing your sappy slick all over the same place and making even more of a mess of you.
“Hey, keep these thighs open,” Choso huffs, landing yet another light smack onto your pussy and watching the way you quiver and clench around nothing, “M’not done, c’mon.”
Then he’s stuffing you full of his fingers again. In and out and in and out— so melodically pressing against your g-spot and then spreading his two fingers apart inside you, invoking a gasp from your throat, “Feels so g-good Choso.”
“So keep feelin’ it then,” He smiles, “Stop runnin’ from it, baby, give it t’me.” Choso requests.
And he knows you’re getting close, he can tell by the way your pussy greedily sucks his fingers back in every time he tugs them out, the way you’re moving a hand to cling onto his arm, and then there’s your legs struggling to remain open for him.
Not that he minded anyway. Choso had no problem with forcing your legs to stay open for him, it was cute watching the way you squirmed and the constant rutt of your ass against his achingly hard dick was what made things better for him as well.
“Cho,” You whimper as your back arches off of him yet again, your toes curling when he hits this particularly sweet and juicy spot inside you.
“Gonna fuck you real good after this,” He speaks right into your ear with that deep husky tone of his, his words making your pussy clench even tighter around his digits, “Ruin ya’ jus’ like you want me to.”
You couldn’t stop yourself from whining, “Please.”
“Look at me,” Choso directs, earning a steady turn of your head. As your eyes meet his, his fingers curl against you, “There she is, such a pretty girl.” The man whispers, watching your jaw drop and listening to the moan you breathe out in response.
“S-Stop that,” You pout, batting your lashes at him.
He chuckles, “Stop what?”
“Bein’ gentle with me.”
Choso almost scoffs, his fingers digging into you, “Why? It turns you on.”
You can’t even think straight enough to respond properly— your legs trying to shut on him again and your reply coming out in a lazy, “Nuh uh…”
“You’re so cute,” The way he’s talking to you, holding you, looking at you, it made you want to just melt away.
Your body was so damn hot, you could feel a coil in the pit of your stomach as your orgasm neared. Shit, he knew how to hit every spot inside you with ease. So much so that even his palm was pressing against your clit and providing you with even more stimulation to the point where your eyes were lulling back.
“Shut-, ah, mgh-, fuck. S-Shut up,” You blurt out in between breathy moans.
Choso’s eyes lower on your expression, “You’re gettin’ close, aren’t you?”
All you can do is nod, “Uhuh..”
Then you’re losing it again, seeing stars as he moves his free hand to roll a finger over your clit raw. Choso’s voice is rough with you, “Gonna cum f’me?” He asks, and you’re nodding desperately before he lets out a lower rasp of, “Say it.”
Your eyes squeeze shut and your hands mindlessly move in an attempt to push his away so you could fucking breathe for a moment, “Oh fuck, I-I’m gonna cum.” You whine.
“For who? Say my name, baby.” Choso orders with his fingers moving in and out of your cunt faster and faster, the sounds only getting wetter and wetter.
“For you, Choso,” Your voice is hardly even there but it’s loud enough to satisfy him, “Gonna cum f’you…”
He leans in a bit and looks you dead in your eyes, slamming his fingertips deeper and deeper, “C’mon then, give it to me. Cum f’me.”
And then you are. It felt so abrupt too, as if he hadn’t been coaxing you to that point anyway. Choso’s fingers are digging in and out and in and out, his pants hitting your lips as he softly rubs his hard cock against your ass. Your legs tried to close on him but his arms wrapped around you prevented you from doing so, both of his hands firmly stroking you through it.
Then there was the eye contact, intense gaze pouring into yours as you came around his fingers with a whiny cry of his name. “Good girl,” Choso praises, “Such a good fuckin’ girl f’me— makin’ a pretty mess ‘round me like that. Think you can gimme another?”
“Choso,” You puff out, shaking your head no in response.
He just grins at you, “Jus’ one more baby, one more. Promise.”
——
That was the biggest lie you’d ever heard. ‘One more’, yeah, and then he’s asking for another, and then another, and then another.
At some point, you could hardly move because of how intense your orgasms were, making the filthiest mess around his fingers and on his hands, and grinding against his hard cock as you cried out his name for what felt like hours. Choso had you geeked, high off of your own arousal because even though you were whimpering about it being ‘too much’ your pussy was singing an entirely different song.
Literally. The sloppy squelches from your cunt made Choso so unbelievably hard. He couldn’t wait to have you on his cock, whispering in your ear about how deep inside you he’s about to be, telling you to just give him one more so he can have his way with you, and rubbing himself against you so he doesn’t lose his damn mind.
He swears he almost came in his pants from just fingering you alone, especially when he brought his drenched fingers up to his mouth and fucking tasted you. The groan he let out came straight from deep within his stomach, causing butterflies to swirl in your stomach.
Followed by that was him sucking your juices off his skin and then moving to your ear, “You taste so fuckin’ good, baby,” Choso practically moaned before moving his fingers to your lips, “I don’t wanna be selfish with it either so, here, taste y’self f’me.”
You gradually take his fingers in your mouth and suck on them tentatively with Choso’s eyes all over your face. And you suck on his fingers so skillfully, sliding your tongue in between them, taking them deeper into your mouth and almost into your throat, and even gagging against them.
“Fuck,” Choso breathes, his cock on the verge of nearly exploding in his pants. “B-Baby…” He pants.
With his fingers still in your mouth, drool slipping down your chin, “Hm?” You hum innocently.
“If I don’t fuck you right now, I’m gonna embarrass myself.” That was his final warning to you before he was snatching his fingers from your mouth and quickly moving his hands to your hips. Choso pushes you forward slightly and he suppresses a whine, soon placing a hand on your back, “Do me a favor ‘nd bend over f’me.” He requests.
You don’t hesitate to do just that, lifting yourself off of him and then leaning your upper half down against the couch, arching your back, and parting your legs for the man. Choso felt like he could cum from the sight alone. Your pussy was on full display for him, your thighs wet with your own cum and sweat, red panties still tugged to the side, and legs spread just for him.
Then Choso moves to his knees, positioning himself behind you as he rushes his sweats and boxers down— bulging cock springing out and slapping against his abdomen. He had precum dripping from his fat tip, his veins twitching, and his entire cock hot with an aching need.
You barely look back at him for a second, only for your face to be pushed back down to the couch as he presses his leaking tip against you. Your pussy lips twitch around his thick cockhead, feeling him rub against you as Choso groans.
“Too long,” Choso whispers, “We waited too long for this.” He starts rutting his hips forward ever so slightly, teasing his tip in and out of you as he tests your tight ring of resistance. “S’gonna be a big stretch, baby,” He warns, trying his hardest not to just ram himself inside you all in one go, “Need you to relax f’me, alright?”
If anything, you wiggle your hips back against him and force more than his tip inside you, moaning against the couch cushion your face is still being pushed into. “I can take it, Cho,” You whisper, “Jus’ give it t’me, please. Fuck me.”
That’s all it takes for him to start pushing himself inside you, immediately tossing his head back at your pussy gripping onto him, and tugging him deeper inside your warm entrance so damn welcomingly. He tries to go slow as he hears you hissing at the sheer stretch his big cock causes, your fingers curling against the couch and your back arching even further.
But the way your cunt just swallows and sucks him in has him letting out the prettiest groan you’ve ever heard from a man. There’s a tinge of a whine laced within that groan of his, feeling your saturated walls squeezing around his hefty shaft has Choso panting as he pushes into you. The last thing he wanted to do was cum too early so it doesn’t take much for him to just snap his hips forward.
Ripping a moan of his name from your throat, you feel all of him poking just everywhere. Choso’s cock is so damn big and thick, curving into that syrupy spot his fingers were teasing moments before. He reaches the hilt of your cunt with ease and watches the way your legs quiver.
“Choso,” You’re practically drooling into the couch whilst he reels his hips back and eases them forward again.
He lets out a loud huff that fans over you as he leans forward a little, pressing his hands into the cushion beside your sides, “So fuckin’ tight, mgh.” He grunts from behind you, “Been holdin’ out on me, huh?” Choso suddenly comments as he tilts his head and peers down at the sexy curve of your arched back.
You shake your head stupidly, “N-Ngh.. n-no,” You murmur softly, “Been tryin’ to… mgh, give it to you…”
“Yeah?” Choso smiles while slamming his hips forward a little harder than before, “You’ve been tryin’ to give this pussy t’me?” He huffs out with a heavy thrust.
Your jaw falls open, “Uhuh, but you k-know that, Choso.”
His smile widens a bit when he recalls the countless times he rejected your advances, “Hah, maybe…” As his worlds trail off a bit, his focus goes to your ass and the sexy recoil that’s caused every time his toned pelvis meets your ass.
Everything about you was so sexy, his hand instinctively lifting to land a harsh slap on your ass. Cock plunging in harder-, deeper, you found your legs quaking with every thrust and your eyes glossing over completely.
“Ah, oh fuck-,” You choke out as his achingly hard tip narrows in on your g-spot, hammering into you mercilessly.
Choso lets out a heavy breath of air and grabs a handful of your ass, glancing down to your sloppy folds, taking his glistening cock so well over and over. Inch by bruising inch, your cunt swallowed him gratefully every time he fed it to you.
“M’not gonna last long, baby,” He soon admits to you while his eyes roll back at the way you’re clenching around him simply because of his voice alone.
You throb at that, “H-Hngh.. you gonna cum s-soon?”
Choso nods almost drunkenly, “Uhuh, been holdin’ it in.” He explains to you before grabbing a firm hold of your hips and pinpointing his hips, sharpening his thrusts, and thrashing his throbbing cockhead against your dripping pussy.
He was addicted. He didn’t even have to finish yet to know he was never going to get enough of this— enough of you. All he can do is think back on all those times he could’ve flirted with you, and could’ve brought you to this very moment sooner.
Like that morning when you came out of the pool, Choso knows he could’ve found a moment alone with you. He could’ve seduced you just as you did him, found any worthy surface to hoist you up against, and then fuck you to tears in that slutty bikini of yours.
Thinking back on it now, the bikini you wore then resembles the lace red panties that are hanging off of you by a thread right now, messy tugged to the side, and soaked with your earlier orgasms and wetness.
Choso’s so lost in his head, he doesn’t realize he’s drilling his cock into you, fucking you down into the couch and nearly making you lose the arch in your back.
You let out a broken cry of his name, “Ch-Choso-, oh.. fuuck, m’gonna cum, Cho.”
His brows tense and he settles both of his hands on your hips, tugging your ass back to meet his thrusts, “Again, princess? Gonna make a mess on my cock? Hm?”
“Mhm,” You mumble, practically clawing at the couch to hold yourself stable as he pounds into you.
Then he’s reaching for your hair and a moan is ripped from your throat as he tugs your head back, furthering your arch and making your legs go numb with the way you could feel his heavy girth in every corner of your sappy pussy.
Lips parted, eyes rolling back again, and legs shaking, you let out a cry of pleasure as you come undone before it even registers to you.
Choso’s in your ear all of a sudden, “You feel so good,” He grunts, gifting your cunt with another hard thrust, “So fuckin’ good.”
His other arm wraps around you and sneaks down to your clit, causing your entire body to spasm against him. “C-Choso-, s’too much, hahh… p-please,” You’re whimpering, feeling an entirely new sensation build up whilst he rubs his fingers over your clit.
Then he’s jamming in harder, breathing hot against your ear, pulling your hair firmly, and even giving your cunt light smacks as you suck him in just as he’d secretly always imagined you would.
Grunting against the shell of your ear, Choso’s fingers pick up the pace on your clit and he grinds his fat tip against the spot that has you seeing stars, “Feel that?” He whispers, “Feel me in there, pretty girl?”
“Choso,” You squeak, “I-I’m… mmgh, f-feels different, Cho.”
“I know baby, I know,” He hushes out so softly despite the complete contract of his mean cock fucking you full beyond belief. “Want you to squirt f’me,” Choso coos, “Think you can do that? Hm?”
You’re shaking your head no, your body feeling as though it were on fire with how hot and overwhelmed you were by pleasure. To which Choso simply chuckles, his dick aching for release.
“Please?” He begs quietly, “I need it, princess.” He sounds so sweet and soft but it’s completely opposite to the way his cockhead is stretching you open from the inside out.
“Want,” You correct breathily as if to mock him from earlier.
He flashes a fucked-out little smile, “Uhuh, want it so bad,” Choso admits, his thrusts growing desperate and frantic, “Wanna feel it, wet my cock up, sweetheart. C’mon, squirt f’me.”
Your legs are attempting you shudder shut, the pleasure overwhelming your senses as your eyes cross, “C-Cho-, s’too much, I-I can’t-“
“Yes you can,” He kisses the space below your ear softly, “Jus’ let go for me. Stop runnin’ from it,” The sound of his voice is all you can pay attention to aside from his desperate jabs at your insides, leaving you pooling around his shaft and slicking up every delicate vein that trails along his cock, “You wanna cum, so do it. Cum for me, princess.” Choso groans heavily against your ear.
You are. And then so is he. Both of you reach an entirely different level of orgasm— your body trembles as you make a filthy mess of the couch when you squirt just as he’s requested and he makes a mess of your insides by releasing thick gloopy ropes of cum deep inside you, fucking in every drop with a loud whine of your name rolling off his tongue.
So much so that you’re both collapsing against the couch as your highs die down. His body weight rests on top of yours but you’re shaking in the aftershocks of your orgasm too much to care. Choso softly humps his dick in and out of you just to keep his cum from dribbling out of your puffy folds, letting out soft breaths against your skin.
The two of you simply lay there for a while, unable to move for a vast many reasons.
Choso soon whispers a calm, “You okay?” And you hum softly. “Need a verbal response, pretty girl.”
“Yeah,” You practically mouth the word instead of saying it but that’s just enough for him.
Then, after a few more minutes of relishing in what had just occurred— the fact that you slept with your dad’s best friend finally weighed in on you.
Though, you guess you’ll deal with any guilt later. Even though the sound of the house’s front door clicking open from just down the hall moments later was rather concerning…
#jjk smut#jjk#jjk x you#anime smut#jjk x reader#jjk x reader smut#jjk x y/n#jjk x you smut#choso smut#choso x y/n#kamo choso#choso kamo#choso x reader#jjk choso#jujutsu choso#jujutsu kaisen choso#choso jjk#choso#choso x you#dbf!choso
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“crawl home to her” | 7.5k
old man!logan x f!reader
SUMMARY: Will he be able to control himself once he's near you? In this moment, he feels more animal than human. Creeping, on the verge of crawling, back to you. OR Like a sinner seeking absolution, he finds his way back to you after every absence, as if you're the only salvation he's ever known.
WARNINGS/TAGS: mdni smut 18+ cursing. drinking. dirty talk. some fluff. comfort. feelings. self-deprecation. miscommunication. sort of established relationship. age gap (reader's in her late 20s). petnames. religious imagery. logan's POV. chauffeur!logan. dom!logan. reader wears logan's dog tags and clothes. pussy pronouns. phone sex. oral sex (f and m receiving). 69. fingering. masturbation (he jerks off in the limo). one (1) single spank. sort of rough sex. unprotected p in v. creampie.
A/N: i wrote this as a part 2 of this story, but still, it can be read as a standalone (i'd recommend that you also read the first part as well 👀 you'll understand their relationship better). hope you like this one! <3
Logan is tired. Bone-deep, soul-crushingly tired.
He takes a slow, deliberate drag from his cigar, letting the smoke curl inside his chest, teasing his lungs. Doesn’t even bother to crack the window open—why would he?—before exhaling, the haze lingering inside the limo like a fog.
One quick glance at his phone screen just to make sure his vision isn’t screwing him over—no older notifications. A pang of disillusionment settles in his being.
Not only is he fighting to keep his eyes open, exhausted from driving the same family around for the past few days while they enjoy their quality time, but he’s also bored out of his mind.
Where the hell are you?
He adjusts his glasses, pushing them higher up on the bridge of his nose, preventing them from sliding down to his lap. When his phone buzzes, he jolts, nearly hitting his head on the roof of the limo due to his excitement.
His poor heart gallops as he fumbles with the screen, unlocking it with the same urgency as a man starved for contact.
But it’s not you. It’s one of his passengers.
We’re getting out in half an hour, the message reads. By we, she means herself, her husband, and their two kids.
Logan can’t bring himself to type an actual reply, so he leaves her on read. She knows he’s not going anywhere, parked outside the arcade as if he’s rooted in place with no way out.
Family after family enters that hell on earth, kids of all ages bouncing on their heels, voices shrill with enthusiasm. He watches, half-heartedly, as parents get dragged by their little ones, who negotiate how much money they are allowed to spend tonight.
He almost feels bad for those parents. Almost. He hopes that at least they know how to say ‘No’.
All in all, he’s got another thirty minutes of solitude ahead. The radio has long since ceased to entertain him. He’s been parked here for two hours, and his mind is starting to drift. He could stretch his legs, walk around, or maybe grab a drink—but damn it.
He wants to talk to you.
You’d said he could call you after dropping the family off. That was three hours ago. The last message he received from you was still stuck in his head, replaying over and over like a lifeline. Logan knows you must be busy, probably taking care of Charles and—
Okay, he’ll get back to that later.
You: Just got out of the shower. Call me in five?
Right now, he could die a happy man. Were he a dog, his tail would be wagging furiously, anticipation already building for the simple joy of hearing you.
Logan: Got it.
The next five minutes feel like an eternity. He finishes his cigar, flicking the stub beneath the seat without giving it a second thought. For now, he doesn’t care about being a messy fucker. He’ll deal with the mess some other time.
Priorities.
A quick spritz of some cheap air freshener he picked up from a gas station fills the car, masking the distinctive scent of smoke. God forbid the kids start whining about how ‘weird’ it smells in the limo.
With a grimace, he sprays a little more—floral, of all scents? It feels insulting.
How kind of him to still be this considerate.
His thumb hovers over your contact, and he presses the call button with an agility he hasn’t had in years (thanks to you).
One, two, three rings, and then—
“Logan,” you say softly, your voice a little breathless, like you’ve been hurrying all over the place.
He stops grinding his jaw, the tension in his shoulders easing. He unclenches his fists, fingers uncurling one by one, as if letting go of some invisible burden.
Outside the vehicle, people stop dying, babies stop being born, and the world itself pauses just for him to listen to you.
You can’t see him, but he smiles either way. “Hey, baby.”
“Gosh, I’m so sorry. I lost track of time talking to Charles. We had dinner, and then I just—I felt so gross, you know? From cooking and all that. Took a shower, and it got pretty late.”
You end with a sigh, and he imagines you rubbing a hand over your face. “Please tell me you weren’t sleeping when I texted you.”
“Not even close. Still waiting for them.”
“They’re really taking their time, huh?”
“You wouldn’t believe it,��� he murmurs, his fingers drumming a soft rhythm on the steering wheel. “How was your day?”
“Great! I’m already in bed.”
“My bed.”
You laugh, that sweet sound making his heart stutter. “Well, yeah. Where else do you want me to sleep if I’m at your place? On the floor?”
If someone had told Logan a year ago that he’d let someone live in his space, let alone take care of Charles, he’d have scoffed. "Pathetic," he’d have said, rolling his eyes with that familiar growl in his throat. Pretty sure he’d also puffed his chest while saying so.
Because Logan Howlett wasn’t one for accepting help. He’s been on his own since the earth was still cooling down.
But for you? He made exceptions. Plenty of them. And if it weren’t for your altruism, he wouldn’t have accepted this job—a job that pays well enough to cover Charles’ meds and put food on the table. He needs this rich family’s money.
“You’ve got a girlfriend now?” Charles had asked, when Logan explained he’d be staying with you while he went away for a few days.
“Big word you’re using there,” Logan had replied, placing two pills into Charles’ palm. The old man gave him a death stare. “Don’t play dumb. It’s not like you don’t know the drill.”
Mumbling something incoherent before swallowing the pills, Charles had taken slow sips of water between each one, sinking back into the mattress with a weary sigh. “If she’s not your girlfriend, then what is she?”
“A friend.”
“That’s nice. Is that what they’re calling it now?”
He shakes that memory away, forcing his mind back to the call. “Try not to be so kind to him. What if he falls in love with you?” he inquires, a mocking tone weaving through his words.
And that’s when you drop the bombshell. “You mean like you did?”
You laugh, but Logan… doesn’t. He can’t do it. He makes sure he’s breathing on command: in and out, in and out, in and out.
The mention of love unsettles him. He doesn’t feel safe anymore, doesn’t know what game you’re playing. Where’s the rulebook?
Is he—could he be—falling in love with you? Is that what you’re implying? And if so, do you feel the same?
In the long run, you mumble: “It was a joke.” Only then do his lungs fill with fresh air, untainted by the weight of his unease. But he can’t let it pass, the fact you sound disappointed. Defeated.
He promised himself he’d never hurt you. Though he doesn’t intend to, it feels as if he’s just stabbed you in the back, twisting the knife further into your frame—unwillingly.
“Remember the—” he pauses a moment, throwing his head back in frustration, silently cursing himself. “The pills. You’ve been giving them to him, right?”
“Yes, Logan.”
“Please, remember it’s only—”
“Logan,” you try again, cutting through the wave of his spiraling thoughts. He can picture you behind closed lids, looking at him through your lashes, your hand resting gently on his chest. “I have it under control, okay? He’s doing alright. I swear I’m taking good care of him.”
“I don’t doubt that, honey.” Casting a glance at the rearview mirror, he feels an unexpected sense of longing for your presence there, like a ghost haunting his every move, confined to the limits of his brain. “Can’t help but worry. That’s all.”
A soft hum reverberates through the line. He hears the rustle of sheets, the sound of you tossing around in his bed, and his pulse quickens at the thought.
“You said you’re sleepin’ on my bed.”
“Good memory you have.”
“You wearin’ my clothes as well?”
Thick silence, the kind he relishes.
“Yeah,” you finally reply, shifting the phone from side to side. You take a deep breath, and add: “I forgot to bring mine.”
He hates how you easily find a way to get him riled up despite being miles away. It must be the power of words.
“I don’t believe you.” He knows he shouldn’t, hates himself for doing it, but one of his hands palms the half-hard bulge in his black slacks, suppressing a low groan. “Think you did it on purpose.”
A rush of heat, sharp and urgent, washes over him. Is he really about to do this? Get himself off in the very car he uses for work? Twisted, incredibly sick of him, he thinks.
Still, he craves more. “Tell me what you’re wearing.”
You laugh at his demanding tone, fanning the flames of his desperation. “When did you turn into a horny teenager?”
“Always been, baby,” Logan purrs, undoing the button of his pants, followed by the fly. His eyes flick upwards for just a moment—no cars, no one in sight. He’s presumably alone. It’s all the confirmation he needs to say: “C’mon. Tell your old man what clothes you stole from him.”
He’s never done this before—phone sex. He’s heard about it, sure, but never imagined he’d fall so hard for the idea. The thrill of it sinks into him, electrifying.
What are you doing? Is your lip caught between your teeth? Do your eyes wander down your own body? Maybe your fingers are already skimming over your skin.
“It’s just a random shirt,” you murmur. “Plain, white.”
“What else?”
“There’s nothing else.”
Logan’s breath hitches as his hand moves to his cock, spotting the damp patch on his briefs where the tip has already started to leak. The moment he slides the elastic down past his balls, he fists his shaft in a slow stroke, going from the base to the head. “No panties? And you expect me t’believe this wasn’t planned?”
Your muffled whimper is like molten lava spilling into his ear, bringing him to full hardness. More shuffling follows on your end, driving him wild with the anticipation. “Why do you do this to me if you’re not here?”
“‘Cause I want you touchin’ yourself just like I’m doin’.” He thumbs the head, hips jerking involuntarily at the sensation. He aches to feel your mouth there instead. “Bet that pussy’s been cryin’ out for me, huh? Must’ve got used to me fillin’ her every other night.”
Your breathing grows more uneven, small gasps filtering through the speaker. “I need you here with me. This is—ugh—not enough.”
“What’s not enough, sweetheart?”
There’s a pause as the sound of your phone shifts again, and then he hears it clearly—the wet, needy sound of your fingers working between your legs, filling the silence with the loud squelching of your cunt. “My fingers,” you blurt out, more distant than before, like you’re merging with the bed, dissolving with every touch.
Logan spits roughly into his palm, the slickness of his saliva easing the drag of his calloused hand along his length, good enough to make the movement more satisfying.
He moans aloud, eyes shut tight, your name slipping from his lips, a whispered prayer, as if saying it could somehow summon you to his side. “I spoil you too much,” he rasps, wedging his phone between his ear and shoulder, using every resource available to him, anything to feel something real. “Seems like you’ve forgotten how to make yourself come.”
Your moans follow his, the breathy sounds a clear sign of how close you are, hanging on the edge, your release just a heartbeat away. But it’s not enough, and you need him. He wonders if you can feel his thoughts from miles away, because— “Want your cock so bad, Lo. I m-miss you.”
He has to stop jerking himself to hold off his orgasm, stomping his foot against the pedals. “Fuck, darlin’. You keep sayin’ those things and I swear I’ll be back with you by morning.”
His sole focus now is you—getting you to come. Driven by his growing frenzy, it’s the only coherent thought that claws through the haze in his mind. “Keep talking, please,” you plead, fingers still lost in the heat of your body. “Tell me what you’ll do to me when you see me.”
Logan picks up the rhythm again, his movements faltering as his chest heaves, ragged breaths spilling out while his hand works faster. “Gonna fuck you slow and deep, just how you like it. Face to face, so you can kiss me as much as you want, ‘cause I know my girl loves that, am I right?”
My girl. He’ll regret that one the second the high fades and clarity sets in.
Word after word falls from his lips without thought, uncontrollable, as though he’s surrendered to the storm of desire raging in his being—a storm in which your name is the eye of it all.
You are everywhere, and you take up all the empty spaces he thought were impossible to fill, sinking into the depths of his unconsciousness.
Not a single part of him is left untouched by you, by the power of your presence in his life, consuming him in ways he never imagined.
Your airy mewls ripple through the line, feeding his ravenousness, adding to the tightening knot of pleasure coiling low in his abdomen. His muscles strain, thighs tensing. Each stroke of his hand prolongs this sweet torture.
“Come for me, princess. You’d make me so h-happy if you came right now.”
And you do, because it’s not just his touch anymore—it’s his voice, and the way he commands you without force. How you’ve become accustomed to him, nodding along to each instruction he mutters.
Beneath your fingers, your swollen clit pulses, and though he can’t see it, he imagines it perfectly, having spent enough time worshiping it.
He knows, even from a distance, what your body must be doing. Your back arching off the bed, thighs quivering and clenching tight around your own hand. Those perfect legs of yours trembling as you reach your so-desired climax.
Loud and unrestrained, you moan, and for a moment, he wants to be with you so badly that he ponders if the theory of traveling across time and space sounds that far-fetched after all.
Logan doesn't need much after that for the thread to snap at long last, his groans dying on his lips as he stares in awe at the spurts of his seed landing wherever his eyes fall: a bit on the top of his pants, on his hand, his briefs. His cock twitches in his grip as he continues stroking himself through the aftershocks, gulping when it becomes too much to handle.
So phone sex is off the list now. Great.
“Miss you, too,” he mumbles once he’s caught his breath, tossing his glasses onto the passenger seat. His forehead feels damp to the touch, and he contemplates when was the last time he came this hard.
The elephant in the room hasn’t been addressed yet. He knows you expect him to say more, something deeper and rawer, but that’s all he can force himself to spit out.
Sometimes, he forgets that you can’t read him all the time. Although you know him better than anyone else, there are certain thoughts and memories locked tightly inside him, things you'd never discover on your own. Secrets he admits he should share with you, but he’s at a loss for how. Words aren’t doable when he needs them the most.
Maybe it's a matter of age—you’re a natural at voicing your feelings.
At some point, you ask: “When did you say you were returning?”
One thing’s clear: he can’t afford to lose you. He’d be an idiot if he let that happen.
“In five days, I think.” Were he with you, he'd hold you in his arms, kissing your lips. God, how he misses kissing you. All of you. “I’ll keep you updated.”
“It’s okay,” you respond, and in his mind, a blank canvas fills with the familiar image of you lying on your side, curling into a ball the way you always do. “I should go to sleep. Talk to you tomorrow.”
“Sure.” Thank you for everything. “Get some rest.” Are you still in love with me? “Bye.” I’m coming back. You know how I feel about you, do you?
So much left unsaid, words he lacks the strength to speak. That, along with his come-stained clothes. And, of course, the limousine now perfumed like a flower shop.
Exhaustion clings to him again.
His luck has never been this good.
The next afternoon, one of the couple’s kids falls ill. Must be something he ate, the woman tells Logan, her voice light, though he can hear the shuffle of urgency behind her words.
Her husband packs their bags in the background, the muted thuds of luggage hitting the floor. You know how children are. Their hands are always filthy!
What she doesn’t realize is that Logan, in fact, doesn’t know how children are, because how could he?
He’s holed up in the hotel across the street, his only responsibility being to wait on their call, ready to drive whenever they needed him. Needless to say, his accommodations are nothing like theirs. Not that he minds it—he’s not one for luxury, has never needed it.
Truth be told, he’s no stranger to beds that groan if you shift slightly, clogged toilets that spit back water like they’re alive.
Joy rushes through him when he hears the news. He’s coming back earlier than expected, a thrill building in his chest. Twelve days he’s been away, his greed growing with each second in that desolate hotel room.
Now, the beating of his heart quickens, a faint thrumming as he stares out the window. He debates whether to let you know about his early return or keep it as a surprise. Would it be better if he just showed up?
How would you feel, knowing that, by the time the lights are out, he’ll be yours again?
He knows he should feel sorry for the poor kid, but all he can muster is a look of concern that barely reaches his eyes. Each time they pull into a gas station, he listens to the hurried slap of footsteps as the boy rushes for the bathroom to empty his insides.
He watches in the rearview as the kid’s father shakes his head, clicking his tongue with disapproval. “Do you have kids?” he asks, his voice forced into a casual tone, like he’s trying to break the silence that’s settled between them.
Logan’s only response is to turn up the radio, some pop song he’s never heard spilling from the speakers. The lyrics are a blur of nonsense to him, but it’s enough to drown out the man’s words and the boy’s misery.
Some things never change.
As the sun dips below the horizon, he’s finally free, no longer at anyone’s beck and call. He contemplates the possibility of getting a speeding ticket, weighing his options. It hardly matters. The pull to see you, to feel you, is stronger than anything else.
Even though he tries to think of another time in his life when he felt such a raw need, no memory comes close.
When he does pull up to his place, he does it quietly. Parking the limo, he doesn’t honk, doesn’t announce himself. Fumbling with the keys ever so lightly so as not to wake you up, fitting them into the lock.
His wrist twists, and the door gives way with a soft creak.
Anxiety ripples through him as he steps inside. The smell of freshly cooked food hits him, but it only tightens the knot in his stomach, reminding him of how long it’s been since he last ate.
Later, he tells himself. After. Once he’s sated his true hunger—the kind of hunger that can only be satisfied by sinking his fingers into something real, fleshy, malleable.
Hunger—yes, it’s animalistic, feral even. Will he be able to control himself once he’s near you? In moments like this, he feels more animal than human. Creeping, on the verge of crawling, back to you.
His feet take him to his bedroom, knowing the path to it very well. Fingers hovering over the knob, he takes a deep breath.
It’s already late, past midnight, yet energy courses through his veins as though he’s just woken from a long, ethereal dream.
He finds you asleep, your body wrapped snugly in the sheets, clutching a pillow close to your chest. Your cheek is pressed into it, breathing soft and steady, lulling him in. Kneeling on the edge of the bed, he kicks off his shoes, then slips in beside you, mirroring your position.
A lamp sits on his nightstand, one that isn’t his, and he figures you must have brought it from your apartment. There has to be a symbolism for that.
It’s incredible how his entire world can fit into such a narrow bed.
The smart thing would be to let you sleep, to simply watch you for a moment longer. But he can’t help himself.
His thumb lingers near your face before gently cupping your cheek, and the very first contact with your skin sends a shudder through him, the warmth of your skin grounding him. He trails his fingers down to your chin, holding it with just enough pressure to remind himself that he’s here.
Leaning in, he presses his lips softly against your forehead, your typical perfume wrapping around him like a welcome.
Welcome home, Logan.
For the first time, he feels that someone’s been counting down the minutes until his return. He’d always believed a person like him didn’t deserve this. That he just wasn’t built for it.
Countless years had he spent convincing himself he’d never be the kind of man who could inspire love. His life had already been written long ago—predetermined by some cruel hand in the sky.
Destiny, fate, call it what you want—once the cards are laid out, there’s no escaping them. Or so he used to think.
You had taken that pen into your own hands, rewriting his future. You, of all people, had changed his life. No matter what the future held for the two of you, he’d always be grateful. Grateful that you’d seen the dim spark in him that others had chosen to ignore.
Thoughtlessly, his fingers continue their gentle strokes along your cheek, your hair. You stir beside him, shifting in your sleep. Your eyes flutter open, close again, and then open once more, blinking in confusion.
“Logan?” you croak, voice still groggy and thick with sleep, coming to your senses. Before he can respond, you throw yourself on top of him, smothering his face with kisses. “Why—how—”
“Sweetheart,” he says, attempting to hide his grin, but failing when your kisses shift to his neck, your nose nuzzling against his skin. A laugh slips out, warmth flooding his chest.
“You didn’t tell me you were coming home early!”
Home. Had he heard right? Had you used that word knowingly?
Peering into your eyes, he catches his reflection in your pupils, tiredness etched into his features. “Wanted it to be a surprise.”
“You could’ve told me,” you reply, fingers threading through his greying locks, massaging his scalp. You place a tender kiss on the tip of his nose. “I would’ve waited up for you at least.”
“Well, I’m here now,” he whispers back, gaze drifting to your lips, and you close the space between you, his sigh mingling with yours as one hand cradles the small of your back, fisting the fabric of his shirt. His other hand tilts your head, inviting your tongues to greet each other in an unhurried dance.
You move languidly on top of him, and he notices, breaking the kiss and pulling back. “You’re gonna fall asleep on me, are you?”
The way your lashes flutter in response should be illegal. “I could use a human-size pillow.”
“I should shower first.”
“No.”
“Baby, I smell like gas.”
“So?”
A smirk tugs at his lips at your insistence, and he gently lays you back against the mattress. Drawn to your charm once again, he licks into your mouth, mentally scolding himself when he gets carried away, letting the kiss linger longer than intended.
“I’ll be quick,” he promises, pulling the sheets over your body. Resigned, you simply nod, settling on your side.
Ten minutes later, you’re dozing off, teetering on the edge of unconsciousness when he slips into bed, wrapping himself around you from behind. One arm drapes over your waist, the other cushions your head, and there’s not a patch of skin between you left untouched.
Fatigue begins to delve deeper into his bones the longer he stays curled around you, but before the weight of sleep takes him, and the silence steals his chance, he huffs: “I missed you.” His beard grazes your skin in a soft, unintentional caress.
You pull his wrist to your lips, pressing a short-lived kiss to the inside of it. “Missed you, too.”
How the roles have reversed.
In the quietness of this starless night, you leave him no other choice but to believe you.
3:34 a.m. Still hostage to the lack of light outside. The world remains submerged in the gentle tides of sleep, undulating between dreams, except for him.
Logan wakes up at 3:34 a.m. because he’s rock hard, and being flushed against your back wasn’t helping him with his situation at all. If anything, it only heightened it.
He sits at the edge of the bed, his mind running in circles, debating whether he should jump to his feet and head to the bathroom for another shower—this time, a cold one. Returning to sleep, at least in this moment, is not a viable option.
His gaze drifts to the moonlight spilling through the window, casting its pale glow across the room. Is this your doing? The question lingers, unshakable, in his thoughts. It remains as just that: a question.
When you quietly rest your chin on his shoulder, he stifles a sigh, biting the inside of his cheek. Your voice breaks through the quiet.
“What’s wrong? Can’t sleep?” Wrapping your arms around him from behind, you circle his frame, in an effort to persuade him to sink back into the mattress.
“It’s nothing,” he says, pulse accelerating. Please, don’t look down. “I’ll be back in a second.”
“But what is—”
He doesn’t get to hear the rest of your sentence. You do look down, finding the outline of his hardened cock straining against his briefs, stealing your full attention.
“Wow.”
“Go back to sleep.”
“And leave you like this?” One hand creeps toward his waistband, your breath warm against his ear. “Wouldn’t miss this for anything in the world.”
Your nails trace a path through the coarse hair at his navel, and Logan tenses. His legs feel like jelly as you cup his balls, fondling them gently between your fingers.
Behind him, your low chuckle stirs something primal in him, making his blood thrum hot beneath his skin. He should be the one doing this to you, not the other way around.
“Darlin’, I don’t—” He’s cut off by his own guttural groan when you fist his length, pumping him in rhythm with his uneven breaths. “I don’t need this.”
“Seems like you do,” you whisper, momentarily halting your ministrations to place your palm in front of his face, hoping he takes the hint. You kiss his stubble, pausing just short of his mouth. “I want to take care of you. Always do.”
Your palm hovers before him, inviting. Grabbing your wrist, he licks it, coating it in his spit and guiding you back down to him. Together, your hands glide along his length, and his gaze locks onto yours, the intensity of it making his neck tense.
You beam with delight under his stare. That red organ caged within his ribs—a blood-pumping machine of passion—surges back to life as he sees you.
He had won the battle. He had triumphed over his past; had lived enough lives, endured enough years, to arrive at this moment.
This had to be the purpose of his existence: to share this part of his stay on earth with you.
“You’re so hard,” you say, twisting your wrist at the tip of his cock, reveling in every buck of his hips, each movement a reflection of his exaltation. “Guess you did miss me.”
With a quiet growl, he reaches behind, nudging your thighs apart until they find your mound, cupping you through your underwear. “I’m not the only one who’s been missin’ someone.” He pulls the fabric aside, sliding his fingers through your wet folds. His nostrils flare as he feels how ready you are. “Why am I not surprised?”
Your breath hitches, and you press yourself closer against him, your tits against his back, mouth teasing at his neck. “That’s what happens when you’re gone.” Another kiss on his nape. “You could take me with you next time.”
“Can’t do that,” he answers, teasing your entrance. “No work would get done.”
His movements cease to a stop. Yours do too. Turning his head just enough to glance over his shoulder, he scrutinizes your expression, pride swelling in his chest as he takes in your affected state.
“You’re not goin’ back to sleep, are you?”
There’s the shake of your head. A single word escapes your lips, imbued with pure fervor: “Please.”
He captures your mouth in an ardent kiss, tugging at your shirt (which is, in fact, his) to undress you, his wandering hands roaming beneath it.
As his mouth meets your neck, something cold brushes against his lips, drawing his gaze down to what’s hanging from your neck.
His dog tags. The ones he had given you before leaving for that job, as his way of telling you I’m coming back without having to say it aloud. And you, as always, understood; had even promised to keep them safe, though he hadn’t expected you to actually wear them.
Now, with your shirt discarded, they lay against your bare skin, his name resting in the valley between your breasts.
“You like ‘em?” His fingers grip the chain and give it a gentle tug, drawing you closer so he can breathe over your lips, his breath mingling with yours. “Like knowing you’re mine? You get off on it?”
You nod in agreement. Of course, you do. Though emotionally constipated and not the most expressive, Logan is a lover who knows how to awaken desire—a good lover, indeed. A decent one.
Which is why he agrees to any idea that crosses your mind, like the one you just whispered in his ear.
He may be older than you, but he’s always been more on the traditional side. You, on the other hand, are continually searching for new ways to innovate.
The round globes of your ass jiggle over his face as he spreads you apart, entrenched by how your skin moves above him, your glistening hole clenching around nothing, as if your body itself is calling to him.
With his head propped against the headboard, he watches you take him deeper, your saliva dripping down the wiry hairs of his cock. The slick heat of your tongue traces over his slit, back and forth, driving him to the edge.
When he hears you gag, it stirs something inside him—a deep need to return the favor, to match your devotion.
At the end of the day, he’s a man on a mission, and right now, that mission is you.
Right there, with his nose and mouth buried in you, he wonders why he hadn't thought of this sooner. If he could choose a natural end like any other man, he'd wish for it to be by suffocation—your body his last breath.
Logan inhales deeply, like a man starved, working two of his fingers inside your throbbing center, his tongue flicking relentlessly over your clit, punching moan after moan out of you. Each thrust of his fingers, each stroke of his tongue, sends waves of pleasure coursing through you.
His beard, streaked with gray, leaves a trail of fire wherever your hips meet his face, pushing back against him. Every so often, you pull off his cock just to ramble, panting, about how good he's making you feel.
From where he lies, you’re a sight to behold, nothing short of divine. “Just what I needed, doll. You taste so fuckin’ sweet,” he blurts out, your frantic cries pouring into his ears as he sucks the swollen bud between his lips. “Can’t believe you let me do this to you. You love makin’ your old man happy, don’t you?”
He used to think he'd burn in hell for indulging in the desire to know you like this—raw, ungraceful.
His judgment must be fucked up, because now, all he sees in you is heaven incarnate. You must be the closest thing to it he’ll ever find.
“Shit, I…” you trail off, gasping as he replaces his fingers with his tongue, drinking from your arousal and tasting every bit of you. “I thought about you every day.”
“Bet you did, just like that night I called you. You know how I felt when you told me you were wearing my clothes?” His hand comes down with a firm slap on your right asscheek, drawing a whine from you as your movements falter. “Can smell you all over these sheets. Makes me wonder how many times you made yourself come while I was away.”
You slip the tip of his cock back in your mouth, your hands and lips working in sync. His nose brushes against the plush skin of your thighs before his teeth graze your flesh, biting down just enough to leave a sting. His fingers curl inside you, hitting that perfect spot again and again, and you moan around him, your throat vibrating against his length.
He makes you come like this, knuckles deep inside you while his thumb circles your clit. Overwhelmed by pleasure, you let go of his dick, and it hits Logan’s stomach with a wet pop. His strong arms tug you closer to his face, eyes falling closed as you ride the wave of your orgasm against his mouth, palms pressed flat on his chest.
For a brief moment, he can’t breathe, can’t feel anything but you, your scent, your taste filling his senses.
Later, he rolls you onto your back and climbs on top of you, uncertain of how much time he has spent lapping at your wetness. His hard length glides along your folds, and he lines himself up without pushing in, looking right into your eyes.
“Remember what I told you that night over the phone?” he asks, his breath coming in quick bursts, and you nod, head lolling back as he pinches your lower lip between his fingers. “Repeat it.”
“Logan—”
“You say it, and I’ll make it happen.”
Perplexity clouds your features. “You said you’d fuck me slow and deep, just h-how I like it. Face to face, because—”. The words escape you, a sob tearing through your throat as he eases the first few inches of himself inside you, your walls instinctively making space to wrap around him.
He’s home.
“Go on. What else did I say?” he teases, relishing in it. He’s guilty as sin. “Or were you too lost in thought touchin’ yourself?”
“F-face to face,” you slur, nails digging into his scarred back, and he keeps plunging his length into your interior to the hilt. Your lips part slightly, craving the kiss that only he can give you. “You said you’d do it face to face so I could kiss you whenever I wanted.”
He hums, low in his throat, as he gives the first thrust of the night, taking great pleasure in your expression: open-mouthed, eyes scrunched, and a slight crease forming between your brows.
Smoothing his thumb over your forehead, he tsks, pausing his movements. “None of that, princess. Look at me, c’mon.”
You obey, forcing your eyes open, and in that instant, he swears he can feel every tremor coursing through you. “Logan,” you coo, your voice aching as you stretch your neck toward his mouth.
The way you say his name—seductively, charged with a fascination that riles him up—manages to ignite a fire only you can kindle. It’s all the invitation he needs.
“I know. Too much, huh?” His tone drips with condescension, teasing in a way that feels almost cruel. He can’t help it, though: it’s in very his nature. “Need to hear you say it. Need you to tell me how much you want this.”
Like everything else in your world, your patience begins to wither, hips instinctively bucking beneath him, seeking even the slightest bit of friction. But he still withholds the kiss you long for, dangling it just out of reach.
“Please,” you beg, voice breaking as you plead. “Fuck me, baby. Missed you so much while you were away. Please, please, please—”
Logan enjoys hearing you beg. He won’t pretend otherwise. There's a satisfaction in knowing he holds this power over you, that he's the only one who can unravel you this way, your body splayed open beneath him.
The thought of others who may have once been in his place, making you fall apart just like this, sets his blood on edge.
Jealousy, sharp and corrosive, crawls up his spine, and it spurs him on, guiding the tempo of his thrusts.
He wonders if he’s ever fucked you this fiercely before, with a passion that pulses from every part of him. You’re given no space for thought, no moment to catch your breath—just his unforgiving pace and the sounds spilling from your lips.
He has a way of breaking you down, turning you into a trembling, whimpering mess beneath him, and you surrender willingly, craving each second of it.
So fuckin’ tight. Can y’hear her? How badly she needs me?
Sex had never felt like this before. He’d grown accustomed to quick, meaningless fucks in poorly lit bars, fleeting encounters that left him questioning if this was all there was. If this wasn’t the best he’d ever know.
For a while, he’d tried to solve that emptiness, searching in nameless lovers and hollow hearts for the very thing he feared most: love.
And yet, he wanted it, yearned it, guarding his desire like a secret he barely admitted to himself. Until one day, you stumbled into his life, and all the strength he thought he had wasn’t enough to push you away.
He presses deep into the back of your thighs, bringing your chests so close they're nearly brushing. Claiming your mouth in a maddening kiss, all teeth and tongue, leaving no space for softness. As he nibbles at your bottom lip, he feels you tighten around him, your cunt pulling him under, clouding his thoughts.
“Close?” he murmurs, hips snapping against you with an utterly obscene rhythm that drowns out the world, better than any song ever made. “Such a good girl. Gonna come, sweetheart? Let me see how gorgeous you look when you fall apart, making a mess just for me.”
The constant, steady drag of his cock doesn’t seem to get old for you. He’s leaving his mark within you, inside you, carving a space for himself. His tip keeps hitting all the right spots, prompting you to tilt your pelvis to meet him halfway, telling him there, yes, there. More, please.
His hand slides down, rubbing your clit with his fingers. Doesn’t need any extra help when doing so, your arousal providing all the slickness he needs. He feels like a runner on the final stretch, the finish line within reach, so close he can almost touch it, savoring the euphoria and bliss of crossing it.
The way you sing his name never loses its allure, despite all the times he’s heard it spill from your lips. Especially at this moment, with him buried deep inside you, every thrust a promise to make you feel good.
You shamelessly come while he keeps driving into you, vigorous and untamed—like a caged animal unleashed, tasting freedom for the very first time.
Ankles digging into his lower back, a trail of persistent kisses along his beard. You want him inside, that much he can tell. It’s not like he ever finishes anywhere else, but the reminder doesn’t bother him. It only serves as a reassurance: that you still want this, want him. You haven’t changed your mind.
He sinks his teeth into your neck the instant he feels his orgasm tearing through him, hips stilling and sagging as a string of grunts abandons his being, dampening your skin even more. He loves to fill you up, it consumes him entirely.
Such an intimate, visceral act, and then he gets to see his seed trickling down your thighs. He realizes that he doesn’t need much to be happy.
You keep kissing him, his neck, his face. It may seem absurd to say that every kiss feels like the first, yet it’s true.
Even after he’s traced all the contours of your mouth and committed every detail of your body to memory, he can’t help but feel that same thrill of excitement he experienced months ago when he dared to push beyond the boundaries he had set for himself.
Staring at each other, naked, all the love in the world seems to fill these four walls. The compassion and tenderness in your gaze remain unchanged. You’re a dream come true.
It can’t end like this. He can’t allow you to drift back into sleep without saying what needs to be said. Something has to happen, something only he can conjure.
“I think…” He hesitates. Starting with I think carries an air of uncertainty. “I don’t—”
“Logan,” you interrupt, your hand finding his. “I know.”
Yes, you do. You always seem to know everything, but that can’t be enough. He can’t lean on your unspoken understanding of his feelings.
“You still deserve to hear it.”
“It’s not necessary.”
“It is.”
More silence. The moon is the solitary spectator of his upcoming declaration.
“You were right,” he begins, drawing your intertwined hands closer to his face, pressing a soft kiss on the back of yours. His voice drops to a murmur. It’s not just his body that feels completely exposed anymore; something deeper within him stands bare. “I’m in love with you.”
You scrutinize him as if he’s revealing the secret to eternal life. Again, you kiss his cheek, cupping it gently with your palm.
“It won’t get any better than this. There are no more layers to peel away, okay?” He offers explanations you never even asked for in the first place. “This is what I am.” Much to his dismay, you overlook his choice of words: what instead of who.
He glances away, his gaze landing on the dog tags resting against your skin. The same old guilt threatens to engulf him, as it does each time without fail, and that seems to be your cue to lower yourself to his eye level, eyebrows raised.
“I’m not with you because I’m waiting for you to change. I like you just as you are, Logan. And I want all of you, both the good and bad stuff.” A gentle smile breaks across your face as you stretch your arm to retrieve his glasses from the nightstand. Placing them on your nose, your eyes twinkle with contentment. “Do they look good on me?”
“You don’t need them yet.”
“That doesn’t mean I can’t pull them off.”
“Come here,” he mutters, sighing when you nuzzle his chest, cradling your head between his hands. He ponders what to say, what to do next, but no clear idea sounds promising.
And so it gives you the chance to speak up: “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”
I hope I don’t, he thinks to himself as he brushes your hair away from your face, fingers caressing your temples. I hope I never do.
dividers by: @/cafekitsune thank you!!! <3
#logan howlett#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x you#wolverine x reader#wolverine x you#wolverine#logan howlett xmen#logan howlett smut#logan howlett fanfiction#logan howlett fic#james logan howlett#logan howlett x fem!reader#logan howlett x fem reader#the wolverine x reader#old man logan x reader#logan howlet x reader#old man logan#logan x reader#wolverine smut#logan howlett x f!reader#smut#fanfiction#fic: crawl home to her
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Pretty sure hades 2020 is partly to blame for destroying my thumbs. I spent soooo many hours playing it like obsessed its one of my fondest gaming experiences for sure... but man last time i played it i couldnt fight at all 😔😔😔
#sharan talks#it saddens me to not feel excited about the coming second game for it#seeing that i struggle typing on my phone now too#if id known about the true nature of my physicality i wouldve been more careful#but now i just have to bite the sour apple and accept that some of my fave games are inaccessible to me#i wonder if thats part of my increasing enjoyment for turn based combat recent years#lol sorry for my endless whining lately its been a rough time having to stop pretending im not breaking#sucks having a body that was never destined to stay intact#and that its not enough to have to give up every dream and ambition#but that even the simplest things are impeded#and that not even the hobbies thats kept me sane throughout the ceaseless downfall arent safe#MAN im used to it but at the same time it never gets easier to grapple with does it#because theres no possible cure and help to somewhat ease things is deliberately denied#okay thats enough LMAO sorry again im fine#just hard not to think about when confined to bed for aforementioned reasons yknow??????
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Temple— Nicholas Chavez x Fem!Reader
summary— they always say “your body is a temple” and boy is nicholas’ body a temple you love to climb and worship.
warnings— PURE SMUT. fingering, hand job, oral(m receiving), unprotected sex, mirror play, spit kink, praise kink, degrading kink, body worship, ass slapping, choking, creampie, daddy kink, breeding kink, cum eating, rough sex, aftercare, fluff.
a/n— ovulating and wrote this based on these pictures because he looks so good, ugh, i NEED him. (not prof read)
You were wandering the aisles of your favorite boutique, surrounded by the chatter of other shoppers. Just as you picked up a cute dress, your phone buzzed in your pocket. You fished it out, expecting a simple text, but what you saw made your breath hitch and your pussy throb.
Nicholas had sent you a picture of himself shirtless, standing in his bathroom with the light cascading down his chiseled abs, his hair slightly damp and tousled and then one with the hat you gifted him on. He looked incredible, his physique had transformed since you first started dating for his new roles, becoming more defined and muscular, and it left you utterly speechless.
You couldn’t help but bite your lip as heat pooled in your core. God, he looks good. You remembered when you first met him, he was charming and sweet, and you loved him just as he was then. But this new version of him? It ignited something deep within you. It was as if every sculpted muscle was begging for your attention, and all you could think about was how much you needed him inside you, pounding you.
The dress you were holding suddenly felt heavier as you clutched it tighter, trying to maintain your composure in the middle of the store. Your thighs clenched instinctively, and you could feel the flush creeping up your cheeks. How was it possible for someone to look that good? You found yourself blushing, desperately trying to focus on the price tags in front of you, but your mind was racing with thoughts of him.
You quickly typed back, your fingers trembling as you tried to keep it casual. “Wow, what are you trying to do to me?” You hit send, your heart racing with anticipation. He was always playful, but this felt different, this felt more personal, more intimate.
As you made your way to the cash register, you could still see him in your mind, his body the definition of perfection. You swiped his card without a second thought, the thrill of using his money adding to your excitement. If only he were here right now. You imagined him behind you, his hands resting on your hips, whispering sweet nothings as you paid.
Your thoughts swirled with desire, longing to feel his warmth against your skin, to wrap your arms around him and pull him in close. His body was a temple, you thought, it was a holy site you craved to explore.
With a final glance at the dress in your hands, you decided to head home, your mind set on what would happen once you got there. You needed him, and you could already envision the fire igniting between you two as soon as you walked through the door.
As you rushed through the front door, adrenaline surged through you. You barely took the time to drop your shopping bags before you heard the unmistakable sound of the shower turning off.
You quietly made your way down the hallway, the steam still lingering in the air, and as you approached the bathroom, you caught a glimpse of him stepping out, droplets of water glistening on his perfectly chiseled body. Nicholas looked like a god, one you craved to worship, his muscles taut and glistening under the dim light, every curve and contour accentuated.
You leaned against the doorframe, mesmerized, your breath catching in your throat. This was everything you’d imagined and more. He dried himself off with a towel, completely unaware of your presence, and for a moment, you relished the view, every single inch of him was a work of art.
But you were done watching. The heat radiating from your core was too strong to ignore, and all rational thoughts slipped away. Without a second thought, you slipped out of your clothes, leaving yourself bare and vulnerable in the dim light.
The chill of the air contrasted sharply with the heat building inside you, but it only fueled your desire further. You stepped into the bathroom, your heart pounding, and when he finally turned to face you, his eyes widened in surprise and hunger.
“Nicholas,” you breathed, your voice thick with need. You stepped closer, the space between you two disappearing as the urgency of the moment enveloped you.
“Hey baby— oh shit.”
His towel dropped to the floor, forgotten, and in that instant, the world outside ceased to exist. It was just the two of you, raw, exposed, and yearning for each other.
“Oh god, I need you so bad,” you whined, your body pressed against his as you desperately kissed him all over his chest and tipped to meet his cheeks and lips.
Nicholas pulled you close, laughter in his eyes as he felt your warmth enveloping him. “What’s gotten into you, pretty baby?” he teased, a playful grin spreading across his face.
You looked up at him, your heart racing as you felt the heat radiating off his body. “Look at you,” you replied, your voice breathless. “Walking around here looking like this, sending me pictures of you shirtless… God, what do you expect?”
With a mischievous smile, you moved behind him, admiring his tall, muscular frame in the mirror. You couldn’t help but caress his abs, fingers tracing the defined lines, marveling at the way his body felt under your touch. He threw his head back in pleasure, a low groan escaping his lips as your hands explored him.
The atmosphere shifted, the playful banter giving way to something more primal. You could feel the heat radiating from him, the way his body responded to your every caress. His thick, long cock was painfully hard now , and you could sense the need in him building, mirroring your own.
You wrapped your fingers around him, stroking him gently as you both stared into the mirror. The sight was mesmerizing, his face contorting with pleasure, the way he fell apart under your touch, completely lost in the moment.
As you continued, you watched him unravel, utterly captivated by how hot he was, how perfectly he fit into your desires.
“Look at yourself daddy, I’m making you feel so good, you look so fucking sexy,” you panted, speeding up your movements.
You bit your lip as you felt him jump and throb in your hands, everything he did made you feral. Then, with a shudder and a low moan, you felt the warmth spill onto your hand, a testament to the electric connection between you two.
“Open your eyes,” you demanded. They fluttered open and he watched in the mirror as you sucked his cum from off your fingers before lifting them up to his lips making him taste what was left of himself. He hummed in content, the sound going straight to your pussy but you would deal with that problem soon.
“No,” you said, determination lacing your voice as you looked up at him. “I need to give you more. I want to show you just how much I appreciate you.”
Slowly, you sank to your knees, eyes locked onto his as you let your tongue glide over his chest, savoring the taste of his skin. You trailed your tongue down to his abs, worshipping every ridge and contour. “You’re so beautiful,” you murmured, your voice low and sultry. “So sexy, Daddy.”
His breath hitched at your words, and you could see the effect you had on him, his body responding to your every move. You reached down, wrapping your hand around his cock again, feeling him harden beneath your touch.
“Look at how big you are,” you praised, your voice dripping with admiration. “So perfect in my hands.” You leaned closer, giving him a teasing lick, savoring the taste of him, and your eyes rolled back in pleasure at how good he tasted. “Mm, you taste amazing daddy.”
With that, you took him into your mouth, feeling him fill you completely. The sounds of his pleasure willed you on, and you began to move, sending him to the back of your throat, lost in the rhythm of worshipping him. “You taste so good,” you whispered between breaths, and Nicholas groaned, his hands tangling in your hair, urging you on.
“Just like that, baby,” he praised, his voice thick with desire. “You’re fucking incredible.”
You continued, letting his praises wash over you, and as you felt him hold your head down and cum down your throat, it was like fireworks exploded around you. You savored the moment, knowing you had brought him to this point of ecstasy.
You couldn’t help but smile as you looked up at him, feeling bold. With your fingers, you gathered the rest of his release from his hard cock and brought it to your mouth. You took it in, savoring the taste, and smeared it and your saliva over his chiseled abs. You couldn’t resist the urge to lick it all off, your body shuddering with each stroke of your tongue.
“God, you’re fucking perfect, y’know that?” he said, watching you with a mix of awe and desire. “I appreciate that, baby. But now, it’s my turn to make you feel good.”
He positioned you in front of him, hoisting one of your feet up onto the counter, giving him a better angle. “Open your mouth,” he commanded softly, and you complied eagerly, watching as he spat into your waiting mouth. You swallowed it happily, feeling the rush of satisfaction.
Nicholas trailed his finger down your body, stopping at your soaking wet pussy. As he slipped a finger inside you, you gasped, your body arching toward him instinctively. “Look at yourself in the mirror,” he instructed, his voice thick with lust. “Look how beautiful you are.”
You glanced up, eyes locking with your reflection. The sight of you, flushed and breathless, sent a thrill through you. Nicholas’ finger worked expertly inside you, curling just right, and the pleasure began to build. “That’s it, baby. You’re so beautiful when you come apart like this,” he praised, his gaze never leaving your face as he watched you surrender to the waves of ecstasy. “Let me see you feel good.”
With each movement of his fingers, the pleasure surged higher, and you found yourself lost in the sensation. “Daddy,” your moans filling the room as you finally reached your release, trembling under his touch.
“That’s it, I’ve got you baby, daddy’s got you,” he cooed, rubbing your clit fast as your body jolted and slowly came down from your high.
Nicholas trailed kisses down your neck and across your shoulders, his lips warm against your skin. “Look in the mirror, baby,” he murmured, his breath hot against you. You obeyed, your heart racing as you met your own gaze, feeling every kiss ignite your desire.
With a sudden, playful movement, he bent you over the counter, a sharp smack landing on your ass. “You look so sexy like this,” he teased, watching you wiggle your backside against him. You grinned back at him, biting your lip. “You look like a Greek god,” you shot back, and he smirked, pride flashing in his eyes.
“Oh yeah?” he replied, holding your neck gently but firmly, bringing you back against his chest. You arched into him, feeling his hard cock tease against you as he slipped inside, filling you completely.
He began to pound into you roughly, his grip on your neck ensuring you were locked onto his gaze in the mirror. “Keep those eyes on me,” he commanded, and when you felt the urge to close them, he shook you slightly. “Look at yourself!”
“Daddy, you feel so good,” you gasped, feeling the pleasure building inside you.
“Tell me more,” he urged, his voice thick with desire. “Tell me how fucking hot I am.”
You nodded, breathless, “You’re so hot, so beautiful. I love your body, daddy. I love how you look as you pound into me.”
“Such a dirty slut,” he teased, reveling in the sight of you enjoying every second. He rubbed your clit, sending shocks of pleasure coursing through you. “Look at yourself being fucked.”
With a loud moan, you surrendered to the man behind, your release washing over you as you cried out his name like it was the only word you knew.
Nicholas smirked, a glint in his eye. “I’m not done with you yet,” he declared, hoisting you up effortlessly, arms hooked under your legs. He turned you sideways, positioning you perfectly so you could watch him slam into you.
“Worship me,” he commanded, his voice deep and gravelly making you throb.
You felt a surge of excitement course through you, and you nodded, biting your lip as you gazed into his eyes. “You’re everything, Nicholas. So strong, so perfect,” you whispered, your heart racing at the power he held over you, “you’re so fucking beautiful, your body is a work of art.”
With each thrust, he drove deeper, filling you completely. “That’s it, baby. You know how to treat me right,” he growled, his tone playful yet commanding. “Show me how much you want me.”
You leaned forward, kissing him passionately, your hands roaming over his chiseled chest and arms. “I need you,” you breathed between kisses. “You feel so good. I can’t get enough daddy.
“Good girl,” he praised, his voice thick with lust. “I want to see you cum again.”
You gasped as he hit that sweet spot inside you, sending waves of pleasure crashing over you. “Daddy!” you cried out, feeling yourself on the edge once more. “I’m so close!”
“Then let go for me,” he urged, his eyes locked on yours, watching as the ecstasy took over. “Worship your man, baby.”
With one final thrust, you felt the familiar rush of pleasure envelop you as you climaxed, a wave of satisfaction washing over you. “Nicholas!” you cried, and he groaned in response, losing himself in the moment as he held you close, his body trembling with the intensity of it all but still not releasing.
He didn’t let you go. Instead, he laid your body down on the counter just a little, your legs wrapped tightly around him as he pounded into you once more. The world flipped upside down as you caught your reflection in the mirror, his tall frame hovering above you. The sight of him, muscles glistening and face twisted in pleasure, made your head spin.
“Who’s your daddy?” he asked, his voice thick with desire, his hand firm around your neck, exerting just enough pressure to send shivers down your spine.
“You,” you gasped, barely able to catch your breath. “You look like a god, so so h-handsome.”
The feeling of being so close to him made you dizzy, and his relentless thrusts only intensified the sensation. “I’m gonna fill you up and breed you like a bitch,” he growled, and your body responded to his words, craving more.
“Please,” you begged, your voice barely above a whisper as you gasped for air, but the urgency in your tone said everything. “I want it. I want you. I want your cum inside me!”
He smirked, the heat of his breath against your skin sending another wave of pleasure through you. “Since you think I’m so perfect, we’re gonna make the most perfect little babies,” he teased, pounding harder, deeper. You could feel the tension building as he brought you closer to the edge once more.
With a final, powerful thrust, he filled you completely, each pulse of his hot cum sending waves of ecstasy coursing through both of you. You felt him tremble against you as he held your neck tightly, ensuring you were looking at yourselves in the mirror.
As the high faded, exhaustion washed over you. He scooped you up into his arms, your head resting on his shoulder like a baby, ironic, considering what just happened. He brought a towel to clean you up, laying you gently on the bed, his lips trailing soft kisses across your skin.
“You did so good, baby,” he murmured, pride evident in his voice. “You took me so well. I’m so proud of you. You’re so perfect, princess.”
You cuddled into him, tracing circles on his pecs as you kissed his chest, savoring the warmth and safety of his embrace. In that moment, everything felt right, the world outside forgotten as you enjoyed the afterglow of what you had just shared.
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