#watched the trailer and it looks inch resting ^_^
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puzzlekinq · 11 months ago
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i feel like you'd fw trap. got a crazy dilf in it.
u know me so well.. i was JUST thinking i needed more crazy dilf characters to chew on
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keeryhours · 6 months ago
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Masterlist
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Thinking about Pussydrunk Eddie, who worships you every time he can get his paws on you. Who follows you through the halls at school, pressing up against you every time you’re alone - “Please, baby, just another taste? Just one more, I swear.”
Who drags you to the bathroom the second you give in, pushing you up against the wall and getting on his knees. Pushes your skirt up and buries his face in your cunt, breathing in your scent and tasting your perfect slick. He’s never tasted anything sweeter.
Who drags his long tongue through your folds, tasting every inch of you, circling his tongue around your clit before sucking on it, making your knees buckle. He holds you up, throwing one of your legs over his shoulder as he devours you like his last meal.
“Taste so fuckin’ sweet, princess. I can’t get enough of this perfect little pussy. ‘s perfect for me.”
Who fucks you with his fingers while he eats your pussy, skilled fingers pressing right up against that spot deep inside you can’t reach on your own. Who eats you until you’re grabbing onto his curls - “Oh fuck, oh fuck Eddie, I’m gonna cum, I’m-“
“I know it baby, let go f’me.”
Who moans as you cum on his fingers and his tongue, lapping up every bit of slick you give him, not wasting a single drop. Who cums in his fucking jeans just from making you fall apart.
“Eddie, did you-?”
“Yeah baby, couldn’t help myself. You’re too fuckin’ good. Skip with me and help me clean up?”
Pussydrunk Eddie, who skips the rest of the day and drags you to his van, speeding back to his trailer. Who brings you into his room while Wayne is at work and wastes no time getting you both naked. Who spreads your legs wide on his mattress, stroking his hard, thick cock as he looks down at you.
“Y’gonna take me, princess? Gonna let me fuck you like you need to be fucked?”
“Mmhmm, Eddie, please…”
Pussydrunk Eddie, who presses your thighs up against your chest, watching his massive length sink into your perfect walls. Who isn’t shy about his moans, desperately whining and groaning as he fucks you into the mattress.
“Yeah, yeah, so fuckin’ good baby, feels so fuckin’ good. Pussy’s grippin’ me just right, like it was fuckin’ made f’me. Fuuuuck baby, gonna make me blow my load in that little cunt.”
Pussydrunk Eddie, who doesn’t mean to, but he loses control and cums early, filling you up. You don’t mind, but thank god for birth control.
“Ah! Ah! Fuuuuck princess, shit, take it all baby, take all’ve me. Fuck, you’re gettin’ filled up so nice, my cum’s so fuckin’ deep in you.”
Pussydrunk Eddie, who knows you didn’t get to cum, so he pulls out and buries his face between your thighs again, tasting the mix of you and him. He devours until there’s nothing left, until your whole body is shaking around him and you can’t even form coherent sentences anymore.
“Eddie! Eddie! Eddie!”
“That’s it, baby. You know who makes you feel this good.”
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lazysoulwriter · 3 months ago
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but you see me everyday! - pedro pascal.
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---
You’re sitting cross-legged on the couch, the living room bathed in soft golden light from the late afternoon sun, phone inches from your face. You haven't blinked in at least a minute, completely transfixed.
Pedro walks in, balancing two mugs in one hand and a bowl of popcorn in the other.
He sees the look on your face—slack-jawed awe—and immediately stops. “You good there, baby?”
You blink rapidly and let out a dramatic gasp. “Oh my god.”
Pedro squints. “You do remember we’re watching a movie together, right? Not whatever’s happening on your phone?”
You turn the screen to him, clutching your heart. “New Fantastic Four teaser just dropped. Pedro, you—look at you.”
He smirks, walking over to set the mugs down. “Oh. That thing finally came out?”
“That thing?” you scoff, sitting up straighter. “Pedro, you're wearing a suit that fits like a second skin, your hair's streaked with perfect gray, and you’ve got that whole brooding genius thing going on. I am literally sweating.”
He chuckles, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. “But baby… you see me every day.”
You gesture wildly at the phone. “Not like this. You’re Reed Richards. Mr. Fantastic. There’s science and smolder and cheekbones happening all at once.”
Pedro sits beside you, stealing a few pieces of popcorn as he peers at the trailer again. “You do have a thing for the nerdy types.”
“You’re the hottest nerd I’ve ever seen,” you mutter. “If I saw this trailer without knowing you? I’d be unwell. Actually—I’m unwell even with knowing you.”
He laughs, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “So what I’m hearing is, I should wear tighter suits around the house.”
You hum, already climbing into his lap. “I wouldn’t complain.”
Pedro rests his hands on your hips, his eyes full of mischief. “You sure it’s not just the gray hair?”
You lean in, lips brushing his ear. “It’s everything, Pedro. The suit, the voice, the way you look at the camera like you know you’re ruining lives…”
He groans, hands tightening around your waist. “Okay. That’s it. No more trailers for you without adult supervision.”
You giggle, brushing your lips against his. “God, how do you get hotter every year?”
Pedro’s mouth is on yours in an instant—hungry, teasing, just enough bite to make your breath hitch. His hands slip beneath your shirt, warm and familiar, pulling you closer until there’s barely any space between you.
“You’re acting like you didn’t wake up next to me this morning,” he murmurs against your lips, smirking.
You tug gently at the hem of his shirt. “Yeah, but you weren’t wearing that suit this morning.”
He chuckles low in his throat. “You want me to start dressing up for breakfast now?”
“Wouldn’t hate it,” you whisper, trailing your fingers over his chest.
Pedro’s eyes darken, voice low. “You really like seeing me like that, huh?”
You nod, breathless. “I don’t think you understand what you’re doing to me.”
He grins, cocky and sweet all at once. “Oh, I definitely do.”
Then he lifts you with ease, carrying you toward the bedroom, one kiss after another down your neck, your shoulder, making you melt into him.
And in that moment, Reed Richards is the last thing on your mind—because Pedro, your Pedro, is everything.
---
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smutmind · 1 month ago
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Nation's First Fuck
“You know what they used to call me?”
Suzy’s voice drips low through the quiet of the trailer van. She’s sitting across from you, bare-legged in oversized sweats and a white tank, one foot tucked under her thigh. The walls are thin. The space is tight. But the tension? Thick enough to slow time.
You glance up from the script between your hands. “Everyone knows what they called you.”
She smiles without warmth. “Say it.”
You hesitate. Then: “The nation’s first love.”
She nods once. “Cute, right?” Her fingers flick the edge of the script. “Sixteen, singing about heartbreak I hadn’t earned. Smiling until my cheeks ached. Touchless choreography, voice trembling just enough to seem innocent.”
You swallow. There’s no smile in her voice now.
“You know what I really was?” she asks.
You don’t answer.
Her eyes meet yours. Calm. Unblinking.
“A virgin with a contract and a camera in her face,” she says. “But I didn’t stay that way.”
Your breath catches.
Suzy shifts, stands, and crosses the space in two slow steps. Her hand rests on the counter, casual.
“I learned fast. Every CEO stare. Every scripted kiss. Every polite bow with a hand too low on my back.”
You stand, not sure why. Maybe to match her height. Maybe because sitting makes you feel smaller than you are.
“I fucked my first man in a van just like this,” she says, voice steady. “Makeup half-smeared. Skirt around my waist. And when I moaned for real, I knew.”
“Knew what?” you ask.
She steps into your space.
“That I wasn’t the nation’s first love anymore,” she whispers. “I was its first fuck.”
Your heart hammers. She presses a hand to your chest.
“Want me to show you how that girl died?”
You nod. Or maybe you just stop breathing long enough that she takes it for yes.
She peels her tank off like it means nothing. No show. No tease. Just bare skin and intent. You touch her slowly, reverent at first. She doesn’t stop you—but she watches you like you’re being evaluated.
“You’ve been with women who looked up to you,” she says. “Now see what it’s like when one looks down.”
She pushes you onto the narrow couch, climbs into your lap, and pulls your shirt over your head. Her mouth finds your neck—warm, practiced, no hesitation.
Then she slides her hand into your sweats, wraps her fingers around your cock.
“I gave my first blowjob in a dressing room,” she murmurs, stroking you slow. “No camera. No direction. Just instinct.”
You groan as her hand tightens slightly, her thumb brushing the head. Her breath warms your skin.
“He didn’t ask. Just unzipped and waited. I was scared shitless, but I got on my knees anyway.”
She shifts, sliding down off your lap until she’s kneeling in front of you. The floor creaks beneath her.
“But I never forgot what it felt like—to have that kind of control for the first time.”
She pulls your sweats down. Your cock springs free, hard and pulsing.
She looks up. “Let me show you what control looks like now.”
Then she wraps her lips around the head—slow, wet, maddeningly gentle.
You moan, one hand flying to her hair. She takes more of you in, inch by inch, until her throat tightens around the base. Her eyes don’t leave yours. No gag. No flinch. Just deliberate suction and the slow, steady slide of her tongue along your shaft.
She pulls back with a slick pop, spit stretching from her lip to your cock.
“He came in under two minutes,” she murmurs. “But he said it was the best head of his life.”
She takes you again—this time faster. Her mouth moves in a rhythm that feels like a song: lips tight, tongue teasing, throat just tight enough to squeeze. She moans around you, vibrating through your core.
You’re shaking now. Close.
She stops. Lets your cock fall wet against your stomach, twitching.
“I’m not gonna finish you like that,” she says, rising. “I want you to feel everything.”
She straddles you again, panties pushed to the side, and sinks down onto your cock in one long, breathless slide. Her walls grip you tight, velvet and heat. You groan, already dizzy.
“I fucked him like I was still allowed to be messy,” she says, rolling her hips. “Before I learned how to make men beg without raising my voice.”
Her rhythm is deep, devastating. She moves like she’s showing you something—not just riding you, but teaching you the cost of survival.
“I became their fantasy,” she gasps, “because I learned to weaponize innocence.”
Then she changes.
Without warning, her hips snap down hard. Again. Faster now. Rougher. Her nails dig into your chest.
“You thought of me like a dream,” she pants. “But I’m the nightmare too. The one that makes you cum so hard you can’t see.”
She shifts suddenly, and you feel her rhythm change—shallower bounces, tighter movements. Her voice lifts into something airy, rehearsed.
“Like this?” she breathes, tilting her head, lips parted in a soft little whimper. “Mmm… so deep, oppa…”
She giggles. Moans light and sweet, bouncing in perfect, practiced rhythm.
You recognize the performance instantly.
Her eyes flutter, her hands trail to her chest, and for a moment she becomes the fantasy they once made her play.
Then she stops. Slams down hard. The illusion shatters.
Her voice returns—low, rough, hers.
“But I never stayed that girl.” she growls. “And you’re gonna cum for the woman who taught the nation how to fuck.”
Your orgasm rips through you—violent, blinding, soul-deep.
Your hips buck uncontrollably, cock buried deep as you cum hard—pulse after hot, aching pulse spilling inside her. It’s messy. Loud. Her name tears from your throat, half-beg, half-worship.
Suzy doesn’t slow. Her thighs lock around your hips, grinding down with brutal rhythm, milking you through every second of it. Her pussy clamps tight, so wet it sounds obscene—your release slicking her thighs, your stomach, the leather beneath you.
“Yeah,” she hisses, breath jagged, mouth at your jaw. “Fill me up, baby. Fucking own it.”
You groan, twitching inside her, trying to hold on. But she won’t let you.
“Still cumming?” she taunts, grinding harder. “Good. You should. I earned every fucking drop.”
She grabs your jaw, forcing your eyes to hers. Her body’s still moving—slow now, deliberate, working every last spurt out of your cock.
“Look at me,” she commands. “Look at the girl you watched grow up on stage.”
You do.
“You just came like a fucking animal,” she breathes. “And now…”
She leans in, lips brushing your ear, voice low and filthy:
“You just tasted the nation’s first fuck.”
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misojunnie · 9 months ago
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COVET 𖣂
how far would you go for love?
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your boyfriend jungwon has always been a kind soul. he refused to hurt a spider, much less a human, but when a new, younger, attractive admirer enters your life, something in him changes. as jealousy begins to consume him, and the competition between the two boys ensues, you watch your life turn upside down.
pairing: bf!jungwon vs. admirer!riki x fem!reader
genre: psychological thriller, horror, love triangle, established relationship au
warnings: violence, dark and disturbing behavior, substance use, murder, slow burn (only gets scary at the end) no mature themes! enha’s behavior and personalities are not a reflection of reality, it’s just a story
featuring: enhypen
playlist: runaway by kanye west, nowhere to run by stegosaurus rex, S.D.O.S by alex g, sour times - live version by portishead, violent youth by crystal castles, goth by sidewalks and skeletons
word count: 12.6k
taglist! @enhacolor @jwnghyuns @theothernads @adoredbyjay @firstclassjaylee @dollschan @enreveriee @surrik-i @jwonistic @laurradoesloveu @laylasbunbunny @tmtxtf
network tags: @kflixnet @kvanity-main @k-radio @enhypennetwork
see the trailer.
a/n: hello all! welcome to the first installment of fright night, my halloween series! I hope you enjoy ❤️
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You had never considered yourself an overtly desirable person.
You spent the majority of your school years being ignored. You didn’t have many friends, and you spent most of your lunches eating alone. For a long time, school felt like torture.
Meeting Yang Jungwon felt like a breath of fresh air.
You met in your junior year. Neither of you were exactly popular, and you both seemed to have an innate ability to blend into the background. But upon meeting each other, you realized you didn’t have to hide yourself. Jungwon valued you for exactly who you were. And he valued you very, very much.
Before you knew it, you were spending every waking moment with him. He would sneak into your bedroom window after dark. You’d stay up until the sun rose, speaking in hushed whispers, talking about anything and everything. You quickly realized that he was the only person in the world who you could tell everything to. 
The last day of junior year, he kissed you under the willow tree in your front yard. You didn’t think you’d ever felt happier in your life. 
And suddenly, your life was all about Yang Jungwon.
You spent almost every day of summer by his side, doing everything imaginable. Picnics in the park, walks on the beach, night drives, your hair whipping in the cold nighttime wind as he sped down the highway, laughing. You had never been this happy before, and neither had he. Then, summer ended.
You didn’t think Jungwon had changed, but the people around you disagreed.
Jungwon grew a few inches over the summer. His clothes suddenly fit him awkwardly as he filled out in the shoulders and the arms, and his pants were now just a little too short. He dropped the rest of his baby fat, his cheekbones emerging from underneath his young skin. He cut his hair, and his long brown locks were suddenly gone, shaggy against his forehead. You had always thought Jungwon was beautiful, but suddenly, it seemed like the whole world thought the same thing.
You returned to senior year together, and the entire school began treating him like a different person. He received love notes in class, giggles and looks of desire as he walked down the hallways.
You were terrified that he would change upon receiving this newfound attention. But Jungwon never changed. He showed you off to his new friends, dripping praise. He took you to the parties he was suddenly invited to, and stayed by your side the entire night, even when beautiful girls approached him and asked him to dance. He told everyone he met that you were perfect, and nothing about you needed to change. And slowly, you began to believe it. At the same time, the world began to finally see you for who you were.
Jungwon was loyal. He knew he had found something special with you, and he never considered for a minute that he might abandon it. And despite rising in the ranks of high-school-high-society, he made sure you never felt left behind.
That was what you loved about him the most. He really never changed.
𖣂 𖣂 𖣂
Halloween was your favorite time of the year. After summer, of course. 
You loved the scary movies, the gaudy costumes, the foggy weather with golden leaves. Not to mention you were a horror connoisseur, which meant you knew exactly what movies to play to make Jungwon freak out. He wasn’t a big fan of scary things. 
But you loved Halloween, and Jungwon loved you, so he did too.
You sat in the back of your class, brainstorming your plans for the month. You were 19 now, Jungwon being a year older. You were in your sophomore year of college. It felt like an eternity ago that you spent those carefree summer days on the beach with the man you had now been dating for four years. 
You were a semester into the year already, and you generally got to know everyone in your class. But the door to the lecture hall swung open, and in walked a face you knew you had never seen before.
He was tall, very tall. It was the first thing you noticed; how he towered over the rest of the men. His face was striking, catching the attention of everyone in the room. He looked a little younger than yourself. It was as if he brought in an icy draft with him as he walked inside, and you rubbed your hands, suddenly a bit colder than before.
As he walked past your desk, he slowed. He looked at you briefly, before walking to the farthest seat in the class, setting down his bag and crossing his arms. He didn’t speak to anyone. You attempted to ignore him, taking out your notes. But something in your gut told you to turn around, and there he was. Staring at you. You shook it off, too afraid to turn around lest he was staring again.
But when you inevitably did, he didn’t break eye contact.
You were a bit shaken by your interaction with the mysterious boy.
He intrigued you. Since you started dating Jungwon, you viewed thinking about other men as a kind of unrepentable crime. You had always been the kind of person who saved their heart for only one person. The lecture hall was almost empty by now, and you packed your bag. Only after a moment did you notice you weren’t alone.
“Hey.” he said. You startled, turning around to meet the eyes of the very boy you had just been thinking about.
“Oh, hi.” you said, attempting to be casual.
“I’m Riki. What’s your name?” he asked curiously, and you indulged him.
“I’m y/n.” you responded, unsure of how to introduce yourself, so you settled on reaching out a friendly hand. He stared at it for a moment, before laughing, shaking your hand firmly.
“Nice to meet you, y/n.” Something about him was inexplicably charming. He had seemed cold and unapproachable when he first walked in, but you felt the warmth of his smile, heard the wind chimes of his soft laugh. “Today’s my first day here.”
“Ah, new transfer.” you said, chipper as you began walking down the stairs. He followed you, a step behind. “Welcome to Decelis University.”
“That’s the first greeting I’ve gotten.” he shoved his hands into his pockets. “Nice to know I’m welcome.” You felt bad for him somehow. He was intimidating, that was for sure. With his angular face and dark energy, you bet people had been misjudging him.
“Of course. Always nice to meet a new student.”
“So, tell me about yourself.” you raised a brow at his odd question, but complied.
By the time you responded, you were in the halls, still walking together.
“Well, I’m a sophomore. I moved from Seoul, and I’m a psychology major. But I like literature.” you said, satisfied with your answer, confused when he shook his head.
“No, not that. Something real.” You considered it. Did you really want to tell something real to a man you had just met? It felt traitorous somehow.
“I don’t know, I’d have to think about it.” you responded, shrugging, and he smiled abstractedly at your answer. “Why don’t you tell me something about you?”
“Well, I’m a freshman. I just moved here a couple months ago from Osaka,” he added, and you nodded curiously. “I’m double majoring in forensic science and neuroscience, with a minor in psychology. Oh, and I like to paint.”
“Oh, an overachiever.” you said with amusement, and he shrugged, hands still in his pockets. “I know your type.”
“Trust me, I don’t think you do.” he grinned, and you laughed. You didn’t realize how far you had been walking together, and suddenly you were in the courtyard, rapidly approaching your usual meeting spot with your boyfriend.
And he was there. He was smiling, excited to see you, but his expression dropped when he saw you walking with a man he had never seen before, a man with the face of an angel and the eyes of a devil.
“Shit, that’s my boyfriend.” you said, suddenly aware of Jungwon’s presence and hoping he didn’t get the wrong impression. Riki hummed, a light smile playing at the corner of his lips.
“Oh, your boyfriend.” he said, enunciating the last word in a way you didn’t like.
“See you tomorrow Riki.” you said quickly, leaving his side to speedily walk to Jungwon, not waiting for a response. “Sorry, have you been waiting long?” Jungwon didn’t answer, his eyes still trained on the boy standing a few yards away.
“Who’s that?” he asked, and you tried to discern the tone of his voice, unable to. “A new friend?” You scoffed, waving your hand dismissively.
“Hardly. He just transferred to my class today. I barely remember his name.” you responded hastily, and Jungwon raised a brow. He chose to ignore any begrudging thoughts, placing his hand on the small of your back with a smile.
As you both turned away, Jungwon looked over his shoulder, gazing back into the eyes of the man behind you. He was still staring.
As a pair, you strode away to your favorite lunch spot. Jungwon didn’t want to think about this new boy, who he was, or what his intentions were. He assumed this was a confused freshman who needed help navigating the new school, and flocked to the nearest friendly smile and set of kind eyes.
But he couldn’t shake the feeling that this boy was going to be a very big problem.
𖣂 𖣂 𖣂
Jungwon was upset.
He tried not to show it. He didn’t consider himself a jealous man, but he was. Underneath it all, he hated the idea of other men thinking about you the way he did.
Back in high school, a part of him regretted inviting you into his newfound popularity. You were beautiful. You were intelligent. You were funny. You had all the good qualities; the issue was that nobody but him could see them. By bringing you into the spotlight, suddenly everyone finally recognized you for what you were. And he quickly realized that he preferred when he was the only one that could see you.
But it made you confident, and certainly happier, which was all he cared about in the end. He let go of those resentments because he saw how much you loved being loved. You were a human being. He couldn’t be angry at that.
But this man, this new man, Jungwon didn’t trust him one bit. 
The truth was, Jungwon didn’t trust men at all. He thought men were loathsome, foul creatures. It was why he preferred spending his time with you. Every man he had ever met had some kind of twisted, sick problem on the inside. They just didn’t show it. But Jungwon saw it. He noticed the little things.
And his gut was telling him that this man was up to no good.
𖣂 𖣂 𖣂
You worked at a charming American diner near your campus. Even with you and Jungwon both contributing to rent, you were barely able to afford your little apartment, so you took almost every shift you could.
You were surprised to see Riki walk into your restaurant.
“Hey.” he greeted you with a nod of his head, seating himself at a booth in the corner. He didn’t seem surprised to see you at all. “You work here?”
“Uh, yeah,” you stumbled over your words. You were shocked that he had so easily managed to invade an intimate part of your life, but it was close to the college, and you shook it off, knowing he likely wanted a warm meal after a long night of classes. You glanced at your watch. You closed in twenty minutes. “What can I get for you?”
He rolled his shoulders, not bothering to look at the menu. “Oh, just get me whatever your favorite is.” You scrawled an order down on your notepad.
“So, how’d you end up in my restaurant?” you joked, and he shrugged casually.
“What can I say, I like American food.” you hummed, turning around to take his order to the kitchen. He followed you with his eyes, leaning back further in his seat.
You tucked the slip into the order wheel, hesitating  to go back as you observed the frantic kitchen. It wasn’t like you had anything against Riki, but he seemed like the type of guy you tried to stay away from in high school, and that combined with his apparent interest in you made you nervous. Not to mention the fact that your boyfriend probably wasn’t fond of seeing you together.
“Your food.” you said, eventually deciding to return to Riki’s table. He didn’t seem remotely interested in the food.
“Sit down with me.” he requested, and you raised a brow at him. “Come on, it’s not like you have anything better to do.” he chuckled, gesturing at the nearly empty diner. It was now twelve minutes until closing time, and he was right, you had nothing else to do. So you took a seat.
“Aren’t you gonna eat?” you asked after a moment, looking pointedly at his food, which he hadn’t touched. He smiled, picking up a fork and taking a bite.
“It’s good,” he said, chewing. “But I’m more interested in talking to you.”
“And why is that?” you questioned with amusement. He shrugged.
“You’re interesting.” he replied, and you scoffed. “What, you don’t believe me?”
“So that’s why you’ve been bothering me?” He put a hand over his heart.
“Ouch. That wounds me. I thought we were friends.” You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t contain a mild smile. He noticed, and smiled as well.
“Sure. We’re friends.” you said, resting your chin on your palm as you propped your arm up on the table. “So, you like American food?”
“Sure,” he said, not seeming very opinionated on the matter. “I was more drawn in by the ambiance. It’s a nice place.” He was right. It was a nice diner, with checkered floors, vintage movie posters, and intimate little booths. You were suddenly feeling overwhelmed by the romantic atmosphere, and swallowed dryly.
“Yeah, I agree. The ambience is kinda the whole appeal.”
“So you like nice restaurants.” His gaze was intense, and the way it drew you in made you uncomfortable. His charisma felt dangerously sharp, like a knife.
“That’s one way to say it.” you said. He grinned.
“So when can I take you out to one?” your amused expression dropped.
“That’s not funny.”
“It isn’t?” he said innocently, and you stood up, a hand lingering on the table before you glanced at your watch. Luckily your shift was over, and you had an excellent excuse to get out of this situation, and out from under his piercing eyes.
“My shift’s over. Goodnight, Riki.” you said firmly, untying your apron. He watched carefully as you strode quickly to the kitchen, ducking behind the metal doors.
You didn’t come back out, and after a moment of waiting, he left his money on the table and walked out the door, not bothering to finish his food.
𖣂 𖣂 𖣂
Riki had been thinking about you all day.
He wasn’t sure what it was that attracted him, but he found you interesting. What he liked the most was that you were genuine. He had a good eye for superficial people, and you weren’t one of them. You meant everything that came out of your mouth.
Riki had been a heartbreaker in high school, and he planned on being the same in college. Not a week went by where his breakups didn’t scandalize the school, and that was just how he liked it. Some people thought he was a womanizer; he disagreed. He thought that attraction was power, and people should use it to their advantage.
The truth was, Riki wasn’t fond of men. He thought they were liars. Maybe he and Jungwon had something in common in that regard. He liked that women were honest, open with their emotions and intentions. Men hid their motivations, hid their secrets, hid everything. Riki was an open book. He told every girl whose heart he’d broken that it would end up badly.  And when it inevitably went wrong, he said I told you so.
And because Riki didn’t like men, he wanted to take things from them. When he found a man he didn’t trust, a man he knew was rotten, he robbed him of his worth. His happiness. His girlfriend. And he was going to do it again here, he was determined.
He didn’t trust your boyfriend. He may seem perfect on paper, but Riki could tell there was something rotting beneath the surface. Everyone had something to hide. And he was going to expose whatever your boyfriend was hiding. 
It’s what he always did.
𖣂 𖣂 𖣂
Jungwon had been watching you.
In his heart, he knew it was wrong. He had never not trusted you before, and he wasn’t sure what was happening to him. He was uneasy, anxious, and upset. Yesterday, the two of you had lunch and he barely touched his food. That night, he didn’t sleep.
It wasn’t like guys hadn’t pursued you before. In the past four years, boys would hit on you at parties, in class, even on your dates. He’d tell them to scram, and then you’d laugh about it together afterward. It had never bothered him when other guys were interested in you; if anything, it made him more proud of himself for being with you. In fact, he wasn’t even certain that this particular man was interested in you at all.
That was until he saw you having dinner together.
You were sitting in the corner booth. Through the foggy glass, Jungwon could see his face, smiling. His eyes were crescent moons as he chuckled at something you said, neither of you eating, just speaking. He couldn’t tell if you were smiling back at him, and he wanted to know desperately.
When he saw you get up and go to the kitchen, he checked the time on his watch. Your shift was over, which meant he needed to get a move on, and he shoved his hands in his pockets before speeding in the direction of your shared apartment.
He felt horrible about what he had just done. He knew he was your boyfriend, but watching you without you knowing felt like a crime. He walked with a pit in his stomach, anxious to beat you home. He didn’t want you to know he had been acting strangely.
He trusted you. He trusted you with his entire heart, as he had been for the past four years, without regret.
But could he trust the people around you?
𖣂 𖣂 𖣂
Riki was back in your diner, as he had been every day for the past week. You had given up on lecturing him about righteousness; clearly he didn’t care. You just served him his food, and as usual, he asked you to sit down with him.
The scent of sweet violet, cedarwood, and a little cigarette smoke filled the air as you sat across from him, and you found it extremely pleasant.
“New cologne?’ you asked. You didn’t like that this was becoming routine for the two of you, but you engaged anyway.
“You noticed,” he said happily. “Yeah, it’s new. You like it?” You looked out the window, resting your chin on your hand as you attempted to ignore him.
“It’s nice.” you grumbled, and he smiled in satisfaction.
He was Jungwon’s complete opposite. He was demanding, flirty, and charming in an aggressive way. His voice was deep and smooth, unlike Jungwon’s soft lilt. He was sweet, but not kind. Jungwon was the kindest boy you had ever met.
He forked a bite of food for himself before chewing in satisfaction. “So, are you ready to answer?”
“Answer what?” you asked, bemused.
“I told you I wanted to hear something real about you.” you laughed, recalling your first conversation, and it seemed like an eternity ago.
“You go first.” you suggested, and to your surprise, he obliged.
“Well, that’s a tough question. I suppose something real about me is that I don’t believe in love.” You raised a brow incredulously.
“Why is that?”
“Not sure. I just never have.”
“Something must have happened to convince you love wasn’t real.” He considered telling you, but his brain resisted. He wasn’t ready to spill his guts to you. Sharing his secrets would mean opening himself up to be vulnerable, and Riki hated being vulnerable. You sensed his hesitation, saying; “You can tell me.”
And despite himself, he told you.
“My parents never really loved each other.” he said simply, and you frowned. “For as long as I can remember, they’ve been cold to each other. Sometimes they fight. Violently.” He sighed, and you felt pity welling up in your chest. “I guess I don’t believe in love because I don’t believe in marriage. I don’t think human beings are capable of loving each other forever.”
“I’m sorry, Riki.” you said, and he shook his head, looking away. “But you’re wrong.” His eyes drifted to yours, and he raised a brow. “Love exists. Deep down, everyone has love in their heart.”
“People spend their entire lives chasing for love, and they still don’t find it.”
“That’s because love is work. Everyone has the potential to find it one day. You just have to start looking.” Your words touched him. He had never considered that love was something he had to work for, not just a concept that was driven by fate.
“Agree to disagree.” he snorted, and you shrugged, taking a bite of his food.
“There’s love everywhere.”
Instead of running away at the end of your shift, this time you allowed him to walk you out. The two of you strode into the cold night, you shivering in your tee shirt.
“Are you cold?” he asked, and you shook your head, covering your waist with your arms in an attempt to warm up. Wordlessly, he pulled off his jacket and hung it over your shoulders. You glared at him, but accepted it. From the pocket of his jeans, he removed a pack of red Marlboros, slipping a cigarette out of the packet. “Smoke?” he asked, and you shook your head. He propped the cigarette in between his lips.
“You’re a bit young to smoke, aren’t you?” you asked, and he chuckled.
“Every teenager has a bit of fun. Even if they’re not supposed to.” you smiled.
He was a total cliche. The leather jacket wearing, cigarette smoking, flirtatious rebel that flirted as easily as he breathed. And somehow, despite hating that overplayed trope, you found it endearing when it was him.
“Hey, Riki?” you said, and he hummed, taking a drag from his cigarette. “I’m actually glad we became friends.”
“Friends?” he said, blowing smoke as his lips curled into a smile, leaning against the wall, a mere couple of feet away from you. His cheeks and nose were red from the cold, and he looked ethereal under the moonlight. “We’re not gonna be friends.”
You were about to respond when someone called your name.
Your eyes widened in fright as you turned to see Jungwon standed a few paces behind you, his breath visible in the fall climate. He looked upset, his pockets in his hands as his brows furrowed.
“Jungwon?” You quickly moved away from Riki. “What are you doing here?”
“My shift ended early, I thought I’d surprise you.” he was speaking to you, but his eyes weren’t on you; they were on Riki. He didn’t falter, taking another drag of his cigarette as he watched silently. “But I see you’re busy.”
“No, not at all.” you said nervously, taking Jungwon’s hand from inside of his pocket. “I just finished working. Let’s go home.” Jungwon didn’t respond, just turning around, your hand slipping out of his as he strode away from you.
“See you tomorrow.” Riki called after you when you didn’t bid him farewell, and you turned around to give him a glare, before dashing after your displeased boyfriend.
Riki was already making cracks in the foundation of your relationship. And that was exactly what he wanted.
𖣂 𖣂 𖣂
You were wearing his jacket.
Jungwon was certain of it. After two years of living together, he knew your closet inside out; and he had never seen this jacket. The sleeves were too long for you, and they protruded just past your fingers. Jungwon could kill a man. Specifically, that man. After a moment of walking in agonizing silence, he spoke up.
“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” His cold tone chilled you to the core. You had never really seen Jungwon mad. Sure, you had your fair share of fights, every couple did, but they occurred strangely infrequently. “Who is that guy?”
“Just a classmate.”
“Why was he at your job?” You weren’t sure what degree of the truth you should tell him. You didn’t want him to think you were being unfaithful, that wasn’t it at all.
“He just likes the food, Jungwon.” That wasn’t technically a lie.
“I think he likes more than the food.” Jungwon was refusing to look at you. You had never seen him this put-out over something you did. You wondered if you had done something very wrong by being around Riki.
We’re not gonna be friends, you remembered his words. The smile on his face when he said them, how he sounded like he really meant it.
“Look, he’s just an underclassman. He’s new, just moved here. I’m pretty much his only friend.” Jungwon scoffed.
“I find that hard to believe.”
“I feel bad for him.”
“He likes you.”
“But I don’t like him.” You stopped walking and tugged on Jungwon’s sleeve, and for the first time he looked you in the eyes. They were dull, a stark contrast to the usual youthful shine of his eyes. “Jungwon. I only care about you.”
“That can change.”
“No, it can’t.” You pressed a warm hand to his cheek, and you saw his gaze soften. “I’ve loved you faithfully for four years. That’s not going to stop now.” He stayed silent for a moment, then sighed, removing your hand from his face. But he took your hand in his, which you took as a sign that everything would be okay. You looked into each other's eyes, cold air flushing your faces until it began to rain lightly.
“I’m not mad at you.” he said after a moment, his hair dampening from the rain, clinging to his forehead. 
You brushed it away from his face and resumed your walk in silence.
𖣂 𖣂 𖣂
You couldn’t be friends with Riki anymore.
You told this to Jungwon, who seemed more content than he had been in the past week. You, however, had a pit in your stomach.
You didn’t know why, but the thought that you would never see Riki again bothered you. His messy hair, proud smile, the scent of his smoky cologne. You weren’t certain why Riki had suddenly become important to you, but you knew it was wrong.
“So, your boyfriend told you you couldn’t see me anymore.” he said, holding his jacket in his hand. It still smelled like his cologne, and a bit like you, and he held it tightly between his fingers. He was frowning, and you realized this was the first time you had seen him without a smug expression on his face.
“No.” you replied. “I decided myself.” He sighed.
“That’s disappointing.”
“C’mon, Riki. You’re pursuing me. I have a boyfriend. It’s wrong.”
“That’s the great thing about life. It’s all about doing what feels right, even if it’s wrong.” he said elusively, and you frowned at him. “You should do what you want.”
“This is what I want.” You could smell his cologne everywhere, that stupid violet and cigarette smoke. It was distracting you from your thoughts.
“I don’t believe that.” You knew he was right, but his obstinance was pissing you off. You tucked a piece of hair behind your ear.
“I don’t care what you believe. It was nice being friends with you.” you readied yourself to leave, turning when he called after you.
“I told you,” he smiled for the first time during your conversation. “We were never going to be friends.”
It weighed heavy on your mind, but you had other things to worry about.
There was a party this weekend that you and Jungwon would be attending. Parties had never really been your thing, but a part of both of you missed the drunken fun of your time in high school, so when invited, you decided to go together.
It was being thrown by some boy in your year, a man named Jake who was infamous for his ragers, where people would fight to get in, and leave not remembering how they got there. Jungwon was friends with him, and assured you it’d be worth the while, which you hoped was true.
You pulled an old dress out of retirement, a lacy pink number that you hadn’t worn since Jungwon got it for your anniversary a year ago. There was something exciting about bringing it out of your closet, like a new start.
As you put on your earrings, facing the mirror, he circled your waist.
“You look beautiful.” he said, and you turned to kiss him, a chaste kiss that lingered on your lips. You looked back in the mirror, and you weren’t smiling.
Something about this situation felt extremely wrong, and you didn’t know why.
𖣂 𖣂 𖣂
Despite the hectic environment of the party, you actually felt at peace for the first time in the past two weeks. The music was beating in your ribs like a pounding heart, and smoke furled through the air as college students went to-and-fro. Jungwon and you did shots in the kitchen, hands intertwining as you poured vodka down your throat, a burning sensation on your tongue. After a couple more, you were ready to dance. 
Jungwon pulled you onto the makeshift dance floor by the hand, and the two of you swayed to the music together. You caught glimpses of faces you recognized, but in this moment, it was just you and him. Locking eyes, twirling and laughing as you erratically danced to the pounding beat of the music.
Eventually, Jungwon got dragged away by a friend of his named Jake, a classmate that he had grown quite close with. You were alone, but you didn’t mind.
You had never been the kind of person to be embarrassed to dance. You felt like yourself when you were dancing, and you didn’t care what company you had; you just enjoyed the feeling of being free underneath the spell of the music.
And then, the crowds shifted, and everything felt still.
There he was. Alone in the center of the floor, holding a bottle of beer in his hand, his free hand moving with the music as he danced rhythmically to the music. Girls tried to dance with him, but he deftly avoided them. The way he moved was entrancing; you had never seen him look so light and airy, as he swayed and rocked, not caring about the people around him. You should’ve known he would be there, you could smell his cologne from a mile away, and suddenly it flooded your senses.
He turned, and as he did, he caught sight of you. His mouth curled into a smile as he continued dancing, and you just watched.
“Come dance with me.” he said to you through the crowds, and though his voice was quiet, you swore it reverberated over the sound of the music. As if in a trance, you walked to him, weaving through hordes of people. Were you drunk, or was he more beautiful than usual?
“What are you doing here?” you asked the instant you reached him.
“Am I not allowed to be here?” he replied. He didn’t stop dancing as he spoke to you, and you felt odd standing still. But you couldn’t bring yourself to dance.
“They usually haze the freshmen.” He gestured to himself with a shrug.
“Well I’m fine, aren’t I?” You didn’t know what to say. A mere two days after swearing you wouldn’t speak to him again, you had already broken your promise to yourself, and you cursed yourself for it. “C’mon, you’re not having any fun. Dance.”
“I don’t want to dance with you.”
“Keep telling yourself that.” he said, but he paid no bother, continuing to dance on his own. You felt the eyes of the people around you as you spoke to him, some jealous, some curious, some judgemental. “Why do you care what people think?” You startled, wondering for a second if he was able to read your mind.
“I don’t.”
“If you didn’t, you’d be dancing with me right now.” He was right. That was the most frustrating thing about him; although he may be self-centered and smug, he was always right. Everything he said about you was as accurate as if he knew you for years.
So, to spite him, you danced.
𖣂 𖣂 𖣂
Jungwon had been watching you dance while he was talking to Jake. He liked Jake, he really did, but he found his attention drifting from his conversation to you, swaying carelessly to the beat with a smile on your face.
“Your girlfriend’s cute.” Jake said, gesturing to you with his cup, clearly able to tell that his companion was distracted.Jungwon sighed, pouring himself another hefty drink. He filled it to the brim with rum and orange juice. “Something wrong?”
“Yeah, well, she’s cute. That’s the problem.” Jungwon took a sip of his drink and wrinkled his nose at the harsh flavor. “Some guy from one of her classes has been all over her. Some younger dude.”
“The constant struggle of being someone’s boyfriend.” Jake said, clapping him on the back. Jungwon chuckled, taking another sip. “But try not to stress about it, man. You’ve been together for what, four years now?” Jungwon nodded in confirmation. “She’s only got her eyes on you. I wouldn’t worry.”
“Thanks, Jake.” Jungwon said, feeling a bit lighter, and a considerable amount woozier. He poured himself another drink despite himself, attempting to tune out the sound of the music. Suddenly, it was too loud, and everything was a little bit too much.
When he looked up, his heart had dropped to his stomach. You were no longer dancing, and it felt as if a spotlight was shining on the man in the center of the dance floor, his hair gloriously messy from the moving crowds, face red from dancing and alcohol. You were speaking, he could tell from the way your lips opened and closed.
Jungwon was seeing red. He felt as though the air was being choked out of him, and he struggled to take a deep breath to center himself. The alcohol felt like acid pumping through his veins as he stared at the two of you through the crowd, buzzing like a live wire. He was angry, but most of all, scared. If you had gone back so easily on your devotion, did that mean something? Did this man mean something to you?
“Jungwon?” Jake called his name but he barely heard it, crumpling his cup and throwing it into the trash as he stormed outside, slamming the door behind him.
Jungwon had been sitting outside on the stairs for nearly ten minutes, and he had managed to cool off.
He had never been so angry in his life. Jungwon wasn’t an angry person, he never had been. He had always been calm and collected, bottling up any rage or resentment he felt until it subsided. But that rage was brewing within him like an overflowing pot, and something about this man brought it out of him.
The smell of cigarette smoke flooded his senses, and he turned. Behind him was the last person he wanted to see, smoking a Marlboro, and Jungwon wondered how he didn’t hear him come outside. His face was still flushed from dancing, and his lips were tinged with the faintest trace of pink lipstick, smudged messily across his mouth.
Jungwon had stood up to go inside when Riki addressed him, saying;
“Hey.” Jungwon didn’t respond. “Looking for your girlfriend?”
“You really get under my skin.” Jungwon grumbled, and Riki smiled. He should handle this like a mature adult, he knew that. So he attempted to. “I would like it if you’d just leave me and y/n alone.”
“Come on, Jungwon. You know that’s not gonna happen.” He tossed the stub of his cigarette to the pavement, crushing it under the heel of his boot. Jungwon didn’t remember telling him his name at any point during their conversation.
“Why,” Jungwon started to speak, feeling like bile was rising in his throat. “Why, out of all girls, does it have to be my girlfriend?” Riki crossed his arms with a smile.
“Because I see her for what she is.” That tipped Jungwon over the edge. He could no longer have this conversation, he couldn’t handle it. He strode to the front door, pulling it open as he rushed into the crowds. “Oh, c’mon,” Riki’s voice haunted him as he followed him inside. “Let’s talk, man to man. I’ll pour you a drink.”
“Get away from me.” Jungwon poured himself another cup and chugged it. He was going to find you, and he was going to end this. He had to end it somehow.
“Let’s not be enemies. It’s just friendly competition.” Riki said.
“What does my girlfriend see in you?” The alcohol was speaking for him now, and he slammed his empty cup on the table. Riki gestured to the dance floor with a smile, and only then did Jungwon realize that the crowds were watching him in anticipation.
“Why don’t you ask her?”
You were watching Jungwon from the dance floor, and the crowds parted like the Red Sea. You were frozen in fear, shaking as you brought a hand up to your lip while Riki snickered. The sound of his laughter faded into the background as Jungwon noticed your smudged pink lipstick.
His fist was in connection with Riki’s face before he could even think about it.
He heard you scream in the background but paid no mind, the crowds chanting ‘fight!’ as the two men tussled. Riki was tall, but Jungwon was stronger. Riki’s mouth spurted blood as Jungwon landed a punch on his face with a sickening crack.
Jungwon’s hand found the counter somehow, and his hand latched onto the handle of a knife, unsheathing it without thinking. Only when he whipped it in Riki’s direction and the crowd gasped in unison did his head clear, and he dropped it, his opponent barely able to kick it away from him in his weakened state. 
He wanted to kill him. For a moment, he was truly prepared to kill him, and he almost did.
Jungwon was so shocked with himself that the younger boy was able to pry himself away from his grip, getting to his feet and wiping his mouth.
“Psychopath.” he spat blood, grabbing his jacket from the floor where it had been pulled off, swinging it over his shoulder as he removed another cigarette. But as he walked out the door, he smiled, an ugly smile of sharp teeth and blood.
He had found it. That rotten part of your boyfriend, the reason he didn’t trust him in the first place. He had exposed it, and you had seen the side of him that you didn’t know existed.
He had a feeling that Jungwon didn’t even know that side of himself.
𖣂 𖣂 𖣂
Everyone’s eyes were on Jungwon. You weren’t sure what to say as you stared wide-eyed at your boyfriend. You were terrified. The boy you were in love with had almost stabbed the life out of another person.
You attempted to rationalize it, desperately. You had just publicly cheated on him, and it must’ve been an uncharacteristic display of anger. You’d be angry too if you were him, maybe enough to kill. At least that’s what you told yourself.
“Let’s go.” you managed to say to him, and he brushed himself off, his head low as he roughly pushed through the crowds of people to get to the exit.
Fresh air felt like salvation as he heaved in as much into his lungs as he could. His head was beginning to clear, the adrenaline and rum wearing off as he stood facing the nearly empty streets, hands in his pockets.
“Jungwon,” you began, but he shook his head, refusing to look you in the eyes.
“I don’t want to talk to you right now.” he said hollowly, and you bit your tongue, tears beginning to well in your eyes. “Don’t cry, y/n. I can’t take it.”
“It just happened.” you said in a weak defense, and he shook his head again.
You felt hesitant sitting in the front seat with him, but he made no moves to stop you, just reversing the car roughly and pulling out into the street.
It was a silent ride. The kind of silence that made you wonder if the two of you would ever speak again, and you were suddenly struck with the fear that four years may be over in one night. Because of one moment, because of one person.
“Are we gonna be okay?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper. His eyes were firmly set on the road, refusing to look at you. He sighed, hands trembling on the wheel.
“I don’t know.”
𖣂 𖣂 𖣂
Jungwon hadn’t spoken to you for two days.
It was hard to avoid each other, considering you lived in the same apartment. But it was Sunday, and he hadn’t spoken a single word in your direction since you betrayed him two nights previous. And judging from how many times he’d ignored you despite pleas for his attention, he seemed to have no intention of stopping.
You didn’t know what to do, but you couldn’t stand the silence.
“Are you going to leave me?” you finally asked, choking down tears as you sat on the couch. Jungwon was in the kitchen, doing nothing but avoiding you.
“I don’t know.” Jungwon finally spoke, his voice a whisper. Tears began flowing freely from your eyes. “I really don’t know.”
“I know I can’t convince you of anything.” you surrendered, silent sobs escaping your mouth as you cried. “I won’t tell you to stay.”
“I love you, y/n.” Your heart warmed despite your sadness. “More than anything in this god forsaken world. I can’t bear being around you after what you did. But being without you sounds infinitely worse.”
“So what do we do?” He liked that you said ‘we’. It made him feel like you were a team despite what you had put him through. He set down the knife he was holding, his hands trembling as he looked at you. He could barely stand to see you cry.
“We wait.”
𖣂 𖣂 𖣂
It turns out that Riki was the kind of person who fell deeply. He hadn’t been in love his entire life; he hadn’t even believed it existed until a few weeks ago. To him, love was a myth, as imaginary as unicorns or pots of gold at the end of rainbows. It was a concept, not a reality. But that’s the thing about not believing in love; when it hits you, it hits hard. And Riki’s mind was racing with radical thoughts, and mostly images of you.
He had called you twelve times since the party, and you hadn’t picked up once. You didn’t show up to class on Monday. Your boss claimed you called out of work sick when he went to visit the diner.
You were avoiding him. And in his mind, that was the worst possibility. But he wasn’t concerned; he would find you. He would always find you.
He just had to find out where you lived. And to do that he had to find you, which was seeming to be difficult. So he’d do the next best thing.
He would find your boyfriend.
It was difficult to find out anything about Jungwon from the internet. He didn’t seem to have a strong social media presence, but after a bit of searching, he found an account with a small following that seemed to match him. From there, he deduced that Jungwon worked at a tech company with a man named Jay, whose profile indicated that the name of it was Enhypen SK. A quick search told him that its headquarters were located downtown. Riki got into his car.
He rolled a crick out of his neck. He had been waiting outside of the building for hours, watching men and women come in and out, in and out. He sat in the front seat of his car, chair reclined as he observed with unrelenting eyes. Finally, there he was.
Brown hair flying in the wind, a cup of coffee in his shaking hand, the contents spilling over the edge as he walked across the street, holding his jacket above his head to cover himself from the rain. Riki could almost laugh at the perfect businessman cliche.
The building wasn’t on a particularly crowded street. There were no cameras monitoring the traffic, as few cars drove down the road. Riki realized with growing delight that there was nobody in sight but him. And Jungwon.
He was on the curb. Riki put his car into drive. The light turned red. Riki peeled out of his parking spot. Jungwon was in the center of the crosswalk.
Riki accelerated.
𖣂 𖣂 𖣂
You dropped the phone when the hospital told you your boyfriend had been run over by a car. You didn’t have time to think, abandoning the meal you were making, the stove still burning as you snatched your keys off the table and ran out the door without a second’s hesitation.
He thankfully wasn’t dead. They didn’t catch who did it, and Jungwon wouldn’t tell them, if he knew. He had a concussion. Two of his ribs were mildly fractured. He was bleeding internally, but it luckily wasn’t fatal. He had burns along his leg from hot fuel, and a facial laceration from rolling over the shattered windshield, a cut running from the edge of his eyebrow to the apple of his cheek.
The doctors were shocked he was even alive. The perpetrator had hit him at 45 mph, and he rolled over the entire car before hitting the ground. He laid unconscious in the street for 20 minutes, and had to crawl across the street to call for help, refusing to die. Considering his situation, he was lucky; he should’ve been dead.
According to the nurses, he had fought to leave the hospital immediately. He had jumped out of bed the minute he gained consciousness, which shouldn’t have been possible in his state. Only when they demanded he stay did he ask them to call you, and even then, he tried to leave constantly, surprisingly mobile and alert despite being presumed dead.
The staff thought he was a monster.
You ran into his arms the first chance you got, despite the protest from the nurse caring for him. You cried into his chest as he held you, stroking your hair.
“I was afraid you died.” you sobbed, and he shushed you soothingly.
“I’m fine.”
“I’m sorry, Jungwon. You don’t deserve this.” He had the feeling you were talking about more than just the car accident. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” he said, staring at the wall as he held you more tightly. When you released him, you checked him for damage, holding his hand in yours.
Besides burns, bruises, and the cuts on his cheek, he seemed surprisingly fine. He was sitting upright, speaking clearly, seemingly fine. But he was staring blankly at you. You saw nothing in his eyes, not a shred of hope, relief, or fear. Nothing, just dull brown marbles in the sockets of his eyes before he turned away from you.
“Who did this?” you asked shakily, and he clenched his jaw.
“I don’t know.” he responded. You weren’t sure if he was telling the truth, maybe lying out of pride or embarrassment. But you weren’t going to ask, not when he was in this state. “You know, I realized something. When I got hit by that car.” You scooted closer to him, brushing the hair out of his face. It was matted with sweat to his forehead.
“What was it?” you asked gently when he didn’t continue.
“They were right. Your life does flash before your eyes when you almost die.” he said quietly. “And you know, all I saw was you. My entire life, in one blink of an eye. That’s when I realized,” He looked at you. “I can’t afford to lose you. Not to anything.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” you said, blinking away more tears.
“I know. I’m going to make sure of it.” You didn’t know how to respond, so you didn’t. “I forgive you. For everything you did. I don’t care about any of it.”
“You don’t have to say that.”
“I mean it. All that matters is that I have you.” His grip on your hand tightened, and you pursed your lips, pulling him into an embrace. He was cold as ice.
“I’m just happy I still have you with me.” you said hoarsely.
“I’m never going to let anything tear us apart. Never.”
𖣂 𖣂 𖣂
Jungwon knew exactly who hit him with that car.
He would recognize that face anywhere, even in a brief moment, in a mere second of terror before impact. A flash of those devilish eyes through the windshield. They were the eyes that haunted him, sleeping and waking. And he was determined to get revenge.
This man had changed him. He no longer recognized himself. He looked in the mirror and saw a man haunted by hatred, by anger, and by violence. In his many years of life, he had never despised someone enough to hurt them, and yet every part of him was itching to kill. This was a pest, one that Jungwon was sure to exterminate.
He wasn’t going to tell you anything, no, it would only stress you out. As a couple, you had been through enough recently, and he didn’t want anything else on your plate. You had enough to worry about, with him practically incapacitated.
You visited him every day in the hospital. You slept by his bedside, barely going to class or to your job, just holding his hand as nurses tended to him, doctors flitting in and out of his room. He only had three days left in the hospital until he was discharged. 
But he couldn’t wait.
You were dead asleep on the chair beside his bed, your eyes shifting underneath their lids. The room was empty. He ripped the IV out of his arm, getting to his feet.
Under any other circumstances, he shouldn’t have been able to walk. But Jungwon felt stronger than he ever had as he walked through the halls barefoot, his hospital gown fluttering in the wind like a ghost. He walked out of the hospital doors unnoticed, the concrete scraping against his bare feet as he started the walk home.
𖣂 𖣂 𖣂
Jungwon owned a gun. It was something he never shared with you; he knew you despised violence. But he was a paranoid person by nature and the idea of a home invader, serial killer, a stalker, frightened him enough to need protection, a Colt Mustang XSP stored securely under the bottom panel of his bedside table. He needed to protect you; it was his god given duty. Fate had brought you together, and he wasn’t going to let anyone hurt you.
He used whatever strength he had to remove the panel of wood, feeling around until his hand reached the hollow barrel of the gun.
Jungwon was a good shot. His father had taken him to a shooting range once a month from the ages of 10 to 18, god knows why. But he noticed something quickly about himself; he always hit the target.
One time, the supervisor at the range had told him he saw something dark in him. He had said Jungwon might not show it, but once in a while, when he was holding that gun, he could see it in his eyes. It wasn’t a good feeling, to hear that as a 16 year old. But now, he was beginning to consider the possibility.
Besides what you had told him, he knew virtually nothing about Riki. He didn’t know his dreams, his accomplishments, his past, not even his age. This didn’t bother Jungwon, in fact, it made him more relieved than anything. The less he knew, the better. It would make it all easier.
And now it was time to visit the little pest.
𖣂 𖣂 𖣂
Riki was disappointed. In you, for ignoring him. In himself, for not finishing the job. And mostly in Jungwon, for refusing to die. He hit him at 45 miles per hour, that should’ve killed him. When he visited the hospital under the guise that he was his cousin, they told him he was bleeding internally, that it might be fatal. And yet, he was alive. He knew it for a fact; Riki waited outside the hospital until you showed up. And you didn’t leave, you never left. Which meant Jungwon was still in there.
It seemed like Jungwon would need something more fatal, which was upsetting. It was the perfect set up; the street was empty, there were no cameras, no witnesses. Jungwon wouldn’t live to tell the tale. Riki prayed that Jungwon didn’t recognize him, if he did, he’d surely tell you. Then he’d really lose you for good.
He was parked outside the hospital for the third day in a row, just waiting to catch you alone. He hoped your boyfriend was in a coma, maybe unable to speak, maybe mentally damaged. He rolled his shoulders, tense with worry and from sitting in the leather seat for so long. The hood of his old silver car was bent from the impact of Jungwon’s body slamming against it, and his license plate was barely hanging on for dear life. He didn’t pay attention to it.
The only thing he cared about was ending him for good.
On the other side of the city, Jungwon had just walked into the housing office of his university. The door creaked as he forced it open, his shoes clicking on the tile floor. He knew a man who worked in the office, a friend of his who played secretary at the front desk. That was the nice thing about being a good person; you make connections everywhere you go.
“Sunghoon.” Jungwon said, and his voice was hollow. The man looked up from his keyboard, pushing his glasses up his forehead with a faint smile.
“Hey,” he said in greeting. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”
“I need a favor.” Sunghoon was immediately concerned with Jungwon’s appearance. He had changed from his gown into normal clothes, but the open cut on his face and the bags under his eyes told the story of what had happened to him. Bruises were littered across his right cheek, and a part of his hair was singed, just below the ear, barely noticeable. He stumbled on his left leg when he walked and he held his ribs tightly with one of his hands.
“Are you okay?” Sunghoon asked with concern.
“I got hit by a car.” he said, and Sunghoon frowned.
“Jesus.” “I need an address.” Sunghoon gestured for him to continue. He knew he wasn’t supposed to give away information like this, but Jungwon was trustworthy. Throughout their friendship, he had shown he was a kind man. He wouldn’t hurt a fly. “Freshman named Riki Nishimura.” Sunghoon’s fingers flew across his keyboard.
“Edge of town. Building code is 3405, apartment 2.” Sunghoon recited off the screen, his glasses back on his nose as he read.
“Thanks.” Jungwon said, turning on his heel.
“Don’t you want me to write it down for you?” Sunghoon called after him, and he waved him off, swinging the door open.
“I’ll remember it.”
And he did. Twenty minutes later, he was parked outside.
It was the kind of apartment that had separate units and entrances. The other three apartments seemed completely empty, and the neighborhood seemed practically deserted, if you could even call it a neighborhood. There were two houses down the road, one of which was boarded up, the other was for sale. Then a dead end, the street abruptly stopping in brick and barbed wire. It was good for Jungwon’s situation. It wasn’t like he wanted anyone to hear what he was about to do.
He got out of his car, hand deep in the recesses of his jacket. He rapped on the door, once, twice, thrice. Then he removed the gun from the waistline of his pants, cocking it in a fluid motion and shooting off the lock.
Metal scraps exploded across the steps of the apartment, and the doorknob hung loosely from its socket, the metal lock missing a keyhole, replaced with a burning hot cavity. Jungwon turned the doorknob, and the door swung open easily.
“House call,” he said, his voice echoing around the empty apartment. “Anyone home?” He peeked his head into the kitchen, the living room. Nobody. His free hand fingered the case of bullets in his jacket pocket. He brought the gun for intimidation only; he didn’t think Riki would be stupid enough to make him use it. But he had 17 rounds left in the magazine of his pistol, and he was planning to spend them all if necessary.
It didn’t seem like Riki was home. Jungwon cracked his neck, irritated. He had run out of the hospital on injured legs and a fractured rib, just to be disappointed. He wondered where Riki could possibly be, and hoped he wasn’t anywhere near you. 
He pulled his phone out of his pocket, keeping his gun by his side. He had 27 missed calls and 45 missed texts, and they were all from you. He tucked it away, trying to push the thought of you out of his head.
He was doing this for you. You’d understand that.
While he was there, he figured he might as well look around. After all, Riki didn’t seem to be home, and he had gone through the effort of blowing off his locks. He creeped up the stairs cautiously, careful to keep his gun ahead of him before he took a step. On the right, there was a bathroom, grimy in the way expected of a teenage boy. On the left was Riki’s room. His closet was the largest thing in the room, stacked to the brim with clothing. It seemed like Riki preferred designer brands over an expensive apartment, and Jungwon pocketed a silver watch sitting on his bedside table.
There was only one more room at the end of the hall. Its door stood slightly ajar, and he could see beams of sun hitting the chestnut floor through the slit. Jungwon walked cautiously towards it, the floorboards creaking under his weight as he pushed the door open.
His eyes widened, pupils dilated. He instinctively took a step back, his gun clattering to the floor as his gaze flitted from the ceiling to the floor, wall to wall. He recoiled from the room, as if it would infect him, shivering with fear. He hadn’t seen anything like this. Not from anyone.
Jungwon’s own eyes watched him from every corner of the room. Photos of himself lined the walls, sporadically pasted against the blue wallpaper. Some were photos he had taken of himself, some that you had taken, accessible through his socials. But the vast majority were photos he had never seen, taken from afar of him at the grocery store inspecting a peach, chatting with a classmate in class, working at his job, his face lit up by his computer on the second floor.
And in the center of the room was you. Your face was painted on a canvas, big enough to almost reach Jungwon’s height, painted intricately with the hand of someone who truly loved their subject. It was as if you were alive and breathing before him, and for a minute, he admired you despite himself. Scrawled at the bottom of the canvas were a mere five words;
I have to save her.
Jungwon was horrified. He felt sick to his stomach with the sudden urge to vomit, and he attempted to control himself, breathing shallowly as he bent to pick up his gun. He aimed it shakily, and it was the first time he trembled while holding a pistol in his hands. He fired ten rounds, each scarring the wall as they tore through the canvas.
Your face was a mess of torn paper and sizzling paint when he was done, and it pained him to see. Jungwon grit his teeth, tucking his gun back into the waistband of his pants as he turned around to exit this god forsaken house.
Now Riki really had to die.
𖣂 𖣂 𖣂
Riki arrived home, and the first thing he noticed was the ten bullets sitting underneath the window of his painting room. If he had walked past just a bit faster, if he wasn’t looking at the ground, he would’ve missed them. But he didn’t, and he bent down to pick them up, the casings barely still warm. When he looked up, there were ten matching holes in the wall. He was immediately on high alert.
When he removed his keys from his pocket, he quickly realized he didn’t need them. Shards of protruding metal, burnt black at the edges, became what once was the lock to his door. The wooden door was ajar, and he opened it as quietly as possible.
He slipped off his shoes at the door, his footsteps silent as he walked through his home. His living room and kitchen looked completely untouched. His nerves burning with fear, Riki reached for a knife, his trembling hands gripping the handle as the metal glinted in whatever dim daylight remained as the sun began to fall below the horizon.
The stairs moaned under his feet as he walked towards the room at the end of the hallway. It didn’t look like anyone had even entered his home; everything was the way he left it. But when he opened the door to that room, he felt like he could cry.
Ten bullet holes. Ten scarred, singed cavities in your gaping face, the canvas torn and burned until you were completely unrecognizable.
His art. The only thing he had been living for. It was destroyed, and he knew exactly who to blame. Tears ran down his face as he approached it, the knife forgotten in his hand while he caressed the mutilated canvas.
I have to save her. Those scrawled words remained untouched at the bottom of his creation, and he ran his hand over them. They rang true.
If Jungwon did this, and Riki knew he did, then he was dangerous. And that meant he had to save you before you ended up like the shredded painting he had so devoutly adored.
𖣂 𖣂 𖣂
Jungwon had fled the hospital without warning at 5:32 pm. It was 9:00 pm, and you hadn’t heard a word from your boyfriend
You were worried sick. He was hurt, too hurt to be wandering the streets, getting into fights, doing whatever he was doing. You checked his work, but they hadn’t caught sight of him since he left, on the day he was almost killed. None of his teachers had heard from him, nor had his friends. You must’ve called him a hundred times, and not once did he pick up. So, despite yourself, you did the only thing you could think of.
It’s not like you couldn’t guess who’d hit your boyfriend with their car. Jungwon’s unwillingness to tell you about the accident was an immediate red flag, not to mention his sudden switch in attitude. His workplace was in an isolated, corporate area where not many people drove, and it seemed too convenient to be an accident. Not many people had a vendetta against Jungwon, he was too kind to have enemies; except one.
He picked up on one ring, and the other side of the phone was quiet except for the gentle sound of his breathing.
“Riki,” you said, attempting to stabilize your trembling voice. “Let’s meet.”
Riki didn’t ask any questions. He agreed without hesitation, and a part of you almost felt bad. After all, what if he didn’t hit him? What if you were wrong?
But you couldn’t afford to doubt yourself, and you tucked a canister of pepper spray into your pocket before grabbing your keys and running downstairs. In case Jungwon was in trouble, you didn’t have any time to waste.
You were so distracted, you had even forgotten it was Halloween.
You had asked Riki to meet you across town. You knew there was a large construction lot a couple miles behind your school, where nobody ever visited, rarely even the construction workers, especially not at this hour. You needed to get him in a place where nobody would hear you. If he was willing to admit anything that had happened between him and Jungwon, he wouldn’t do it in front of an audience.
You could feel his presence before you saw him. When you heard his slow footsteps through the soft, unpaved ground, it felt like the world had gone black. Something in him had changed. You used to feel joy and love at the sound of his voice and the scent of his cologne, but now it made you uneasy. 
“Y/n?” he said, and you saw the dark silhouette morph into his fine features and unkempt hair as he stepped closer. He stopped a few paces away from you, and you attempted to smile.
Before you knew it, he had pulled you into his arms, and you were swimming in his leather jacket, his grip almost painful. The scent of violets and cigarettes drowned you. You felt like you could throw up.
“I’ve been so worried about you.” his voice trembled as he spoke, and you gradually wrapped your arms around him. “Where have you been?”
“The hospital.” you said, your voice a whisper. He released you, and the confused look in his eyes was almost enough to convince you he was innocent. “Jungwon…he got hit by a car.”
“Is he alright?”
“No. But we’ll be okay.” Riki didn’t like that you said ‘we’. It seemed you didn’t care if your boyfriend had almost killed him. It was like he didn’t matter to you.
“Why didn’t you call me back?” he asked in hushed tones.
“I didn’t know what to think.” You wiped away a tear, not even knowing you were crying. “After what happened that weekend-”
“He almost killed me.”
“It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have kissed you.” There was hurt in his eyes, and you didn’t recognize him. The smug, arrogant boy you had known was nowhere to be seen.
“How can you say that?” You shook your head, wiping away more tears. “I don’t care about him, y/n. We have something special.”
“Riki, I can’t.”
“Don’t I matter to you?” he implored, reaching for your hand, holding it tightly like he might not get the chance ever again. He wouldn’t.
“Of course you do. But Riki, I don’t love you.”
“That’s a lie!” he shouted, and the sudden switch in volume made you shudder in fear. “You do love me. You’re just afraid.”
“Of what, Riki? Of you? I’m not scared, I’m an adult, I know what I want. You’re just a confused boy who thinks he’s in love with a girl he can’t have.”
“That’s not true.” he said it so willfully, you almost believed him. “You don’t understand, you just don’t understand. Since I met you, you’re all I can think about. Everything I’ve done, I’ve done for you. I even-” He cut himself off. He froze, and the only sound was the cold wind as you two stared at each other.
“Even?” you whispered, and he set his jaw.
“I even tried to kill him.” 
You felt like your world was crashing down around you. You had imagined a million possibilities in your relationship with Riki. You had imagined kicking him to the curb, indulging in his affections until he got bored, you even imagined leaving Jungwon for him. But in none of your fantasies had you believed him capable of murder.
Your eyes widened in terror, lips trembling, and he could sense your fear.
“Don’t be scared.” he said, coming closer, and you took a step back. “I’m not a killer, y/n. I don’t want to hurt anyone.”
“But you tried to.” you said, and his eyes darkened. “You tried to kill my boyfriend. You’re not in love with me, Riki, someone who loved me wouldn’t try to do that. That’s not love, it’s obsession.”
“Don’t say that.”
“It’s true. You don’t know what you’re doing.” You grew closer to him, placing a warm hand against his cheek. “You have a life outside me. We’re young. Don’t waste your time chasing me and hurting people.”
“Don’t say that,” he repeated, his eyes red with suppressed tears. “I would do anything for you. I love you, I’ve never felt that way about anyone.” You attempted to pay attention to what he was saying, but a twig cracked in the background, drowned out by the sound of his words, but you were listening. You looked over his shoulder. “I can’t be away from you, y/n, I can’t take it.”
“Riki, I can’t be with you. Not now, not ever.”
“Is it because of Jungwon?” he asked, and you shook your head. “I don’t care who’s in my way. I’ll take care of it.”
A ghostly face appeared in the distance, just barely lit enough for you to recognize him. That scar on his face, those bright doe eyes turned dull, you knew that face anywhere. Riki continued to speak, and Jungwon put a silent finger over his mouth.
Something about this situation was wrong. You had this overwhelming sense of terror, and it had its claws around your lungs, draining you of all the breath and blood in your body. Every nerve and cell in your body was screaming, writhing restlessly in white hot pain. Jungwon stepped closer, and your shoulders shook fearfully.
“Riki. I don’t want you to hurt him.” you said, and Riki grabbed your face, his cold fingers gently gripping your chin.
“I don’t care.” he said, and his words cut you like a knife. “I’ll do whatever it takes. You belong with me.”
There was a barrel of a gun, and you felt a strangled scream rising in your throat when you saw that Jungwon was holding it. And the edge of it was directly pointed at the back of Riki’s head.
You tried to scream, you tried to warn him, but there was no time. You dropped to your knees as the blast rang through the empty air, a flash of white and red lighting up the air like fireworks as you covered your ears. An explosion of blood wet the ground, painted strokes of crimson hitting your face and shoes. A silent scream escaped your mouth as Riki’s lifeless body crumpled to the floor inches from where you sat, as terribly beautiful as ever, his wide and fear-stricken eyes immortalized as he stared at you. The last thing he loved before he died.
It was funny, seeing a human die. You thought that you would cry, wail, kick and scream as you brutally mourned the life of someone you had loved.  A life that ended in an instant, as easy as pulling a trigger. But you didn’t cry. You just sat there, helpless and silent, waves of grief, dread, anger, every emotion running through you as your eyes and mouth went dry with fear.
Jungwon was a new man. He stood above you, not even looking at the man he had just killed, only looking at you. His eyes seemed black in the night, unforgiving and unapologetic as he gripped the gun in his hand, the barrel covered in blood.
Pools of crimson blood soaked into the soft ground as Riki laid unmoving, the contents of his head spilled across the dirt. His mouth was open in a silent plea, one that nobody would hear, not even God.
Jungwon kneeled in front of you, and a single tear ran down his face as he desperately searched your eyes. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him.
“Oh, God.” you said, your voice hollow and unrecognizable.
“I’m sorry.” he said, and for the first time in months, he sounded fully alive. His voice regained its fullness, no longer slouching and frowning, radiating the power he had lost. “I had to do it. You know I had to.” His hands were covered in blood. There were splatters across his face, and you couldn’t distinguish between the blood running from his own cuts and the blood of the man he had just killed. You felt an overwhelming urge to vomit, and you gagged as you tried to hold it back.
“Jungwon,” you said, voice breaking midway through as you began to cry salty tears. “God, Jungwon, oh my God.”
You had no fight left in you. You felt like a hollow shell as you sat there on the floor, the man whom you loved soaked in the blood of someone you had called a friend. Maybe more than that. You wished you could disappear, that everything would go away, that this would have never happened.
“I’m sorry.” he said, and he pulled you into an embrace. 
Despite feeling repulsed by his touch, you craved his skin and his love, so you let him hold you in his blood stained clothes, you let his soiled hands stroke your hair until it was wet with blood. 
“I told you,” he said, quietly. “I would never let anything tear us apart.”
You didn’t have the strength to respond, just sobbing until you couldn’t anymore, until the life and tears were drained out of you, until your heart felt like it would stop. Jungwon held you, his own heart beating as fast as lightning, the breath of life rushing through him. Riki didn’t move an inch, didn’t come back to life no matter how hard you cried. And Jungwon was delighted.
Maybe there was something dark in Jungwon. Or maybe he was sane, in a world where you have to do unspeakable things to protect what you love.
And as he held you, sobbing in the night air, your tears mingling with the blood on your face, he began to realize he was just a man. A sick man.
Just as bad as the rest of them.
𖣂 𖣂 𖣂
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13atoms · 1 year ago
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Handsome and a Genius (Spencer Reid x F!Bau!Reader)
Inspired by that one scene in x files where mulder stands like a himbo looking handsome and being the future of beauty. you know the one I mean
Summary: Spencer’s overactive brain draws more attention than it ought to on a case, and you see him in a new light. 3k words.
Contains: hostile witnesses, spencer being clueless (but an absolute babe), friends to lovers. (No offence to Florida im sure it’s very nice, reader is having a bad day, and I am far too British for that kind of heat)
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The sticky Florida air had long since plastered your clothes to your skin, leaving you short of breath and with the unpleasant feeling of damp hair against your scalp. The whole team had groaned at the revelation their next case would be in the outskirts of Miami, and as soon as the plane door opened you understood why.
You were hot, and grumpy. The salty, swampy air made you feel disgusting as you approached witness after witness. There was a serial killer operating in and around mobile home parks in the area, with the two most recent murders taking place in Royal Biscayne Trailer Park, both over a week ago. While the rest the team spread out across the other crime scenes, you and your partner had been dispatched to this one.
It was a world away from Quantico: sun-bleached, dense, full of plastic and palms instead of concrete and maples. Nonetheless, the principles remained the same no matter where you were. Take everything in, speak to everyone, suspect everyone. Stepping in and out of trailers gave you very little relief from the heat, although respite from the sun pounding down on you was a welcome break.
Dr Spencer Reid stood a short distance away, shielding his eyes with his hand as he contemplated the sea of trailers around him. He’d stared around as you drove into the park, something faraway in his eyes as he memorised every detail from the safety of the SUV.
Now he stood close to you, heads inches apart as he whispered so that only you could hear. He faced one way, you the other, and you could focus on his words knowing that Spencer was watching your back.
“These things all come equipped with the same locks, at least each model does. If you recognise the trailer home, you know how to pick it. It’s fairly trivial, for someone with some basic industry knowledge.”
You hummed through pursed lips, surveying the small crowd who had gathered to gawk at a pair of FBI officers on their turf.
“And that would be true of all of the trailer parks… we know he’s got a common MO.”
“Exactly.”
“You reckon someone in the industry, then? A salesman? Maintenance guy?”
Spencer rolled his neck, stared up at the sky for a moment. His curls were long at the moment, damp at the name of his neck, a little frizzy in the humidity.
“Not necessarily.”
“It’s quite specific,” you agreed, “anyone operating as a common thief around here would have the knowledge too. We could be talking about a classic escalation – burglar to home invader to murderer?”
His eyes snapped from you to his phone.
“I’ve asked Garcia to check out any patterns in robberies, home invasions… the locks are hardly scratched. We know he wears gloves, cleans his tools. This guy knows what he’s doing.”
You nodded, surveying the street again. The sun was glinting off of white plastic, making you squint. You worried for Spencer, the heat and the light wouldn’t be doing his headaches any good.
“You want me to take that?” Spencer was saying, and you snapped your attention in the direction he was gestured.
There was middle-aged man a little way forward of the crowd, shoulders hunched, hands entwined. Nervous. He had the tan of someone who lived here year-round, not a big believer in suncream, with tanlines when he removed his hat and glasses to speak to you.
“I’ve got it,” you murmured, and Spencer nodded.
It was an unspoken part of your partnership, that Spencer liked when you started conversations with witnesses. You liked that he trusted you, trusted your skills, never questioned whether you’d done the right thing when you spoke to people.
Instead he remained a short distance away, climbing up the front steps of someone’s home for a higher vantage point to survey the place.
“Hello, sir. Can I help you?”
“Yes, ma’am. Thank you. You said you’re with the FBI?”
The man had a tip, and it was an interesting one. A rumour spread throughout the HOA about someone trying the locks at night, the sound of metal against the doorways, silhouettes against frosted glass. A few people even had security camera footage, though nothing identifiable. It was great. You gave him your card, told him to get the footage to you asap.
It must be terrifying, you realised, to hear that kind of noise in the night. To be so close to danger, after a neighbour had been killed. The local sheriff’s department seemed frustrated by the interest the case was garnering – frankly you were amazed the story wasn’t bigger. There was no small amount of comforting involved in the conversation you had with the witness, and soon enough a few more people stepped forwards from the crowd. All seemed middle-aged, likely transplants to the sunshine state, and equally shaken.
When everyone’s stories had finished, they stood in silence for a moment. You frowned, noticing their gazes slightly misaligned.
Spencer.
He was stood at your shoulder, sharp gaze flickering across each face of the gathered residents.
“This is my colleague, Dr Reid. A few of you have already met, I believe.”
“You know,” he began, “the socio-economic factors influencing the way we think about crime in mobile home communities are fascinating. Often trailer parks are stereotyped negatively in the media, and because they are generally cheaper to live in than traditional housing estates, and that can foster a sense of shame or isolation for residents. Transient populations can also make community policing and security difficult, and anomalies in the patterns of everyday life become more difficult for people to subconsciously spot.”
You held your breath, and tried not to look worried at the reaction of the small crowd. Instead, you focused on Spencer. He was speaking with his hands a lot today.
“But I think the assumptions we tend to make about trailer parks completely overlook the very nature of living so close to your neighbours. There is a sense of community in living so closely, as evidenced by the conversations we’ve been having today. I’m not sure whether the killer understands that, or is exploiting the former theory that places like this allow for more deviations from the way we implement traditional security in communities. An unsub might hold some sort of resentment towards trailer parks, or some specific resident in his past, or perhaps he’s simply exploiting how incredibly easy it is to simply walk up to a mobile home and slip the lock open with a humble mass-produced lock pick.”
He was greeted with a sea of blank faces, littered with the occasional frown. Finally he looked to you. You caught the furrow of his brow, the way his shoulders hunched into himself, the clutching of his elbows to his body.
Oh, Spencer.
“That’s really interesting!” you tried to say, but Spencer was already backing away.
“Anyway, I’ll, um, leave you to it.”
“Thank you, Dr Reid,” you called after him, as he fled, disappearing into the shade of a nearby trailer.
 Your heart ached for him a bit, but you pushed that aside. Instead, you had a sea of potentially offended retirees to keep on side.
“God, what I’d give for a brain like that,” your witness laughed, his linen shirt straining under the movement.
You couldn’t help smiling, a little relieved the tension had broken.
“It’s not often someone has a face like that and a good head on their shoulders,” one of the older ladies piped up.
You found yourself looking over your shoulder at Spencer, his profile sharp as he looked down the road, deep in thought.
“He’s certainly a rare breed,” you agreed fondly.
A number of the crowd were following your gaze, and someone in you wanted to snap them out of it. Stop them from staring.
“He actually has an eidetic memory. Once he’s seen or heard something, he remembers it perfectly, forever. It’s incredible.”
“Oh, my goodness! I can hardly remember my own email password!”
“I wouldn’t mind if he hung around me and talked like that all day, even if I didn’t understand a word of it. Though perhaps he could use a haircut…”
There was a chorus of agreement and various coo-ing which seemed to occupy the entire scale from grandmotherly to entirely inappropriate. You couldn’t help staring at Spencer a moment longer, wondering if he was truly oblivious, or simply pretending to be.
A rare breed.
You were certain you’d never met anyone else like him. Certain you felt like a better version of yourself in his company. That you’d trust him with your life, that you searched every room you entered until you saw him. Watched the elevator doors each time they opened, all morning, until Spencer walked in.
You were certain you’d felt giddy the first time Spencer insisted the two of you would work together, alone.
 “Imagine knowing that he’d remember everything, forever…” one of the women was saying, her eyebrows raised in a way you didn’t particularly enjoy.
You cleared your throat, and hooked one hand over the badge at your waist.
“Unless anyone has any further leads, we’d better be on our way…”
The group silenced, and watched you dutifully. You passed out a few more cards, reiterated how dedicated the team was to stopping this killer, and gave out a few promises that there would be a police presence after dark throughout the trailer park.
When the request for any further questions was met with more glances towards Spencer, you thanked your witness, and made a beeline for the car. After only a few seconds Spencer was beside you, jogging to catch up.
“All done?” he asked, and you smiled at the question.
“I think so.”
You started the engine and both waited with the doors open for the car to cool down. The department’s penchant for black SUVs was not helpful when the sun was so vicious. Feeling the heat themselves, the group of residents had dispersed into a few groups, wandering into one another’s homes to continue gossiping.
“God, I’m disgusting,” you lamented, “sorry for the sweat-smell. I might actually take a cold shower when we get to the hotel.”
Spencer was already waving you off, leaning into the car to mess with the AC. Through the open door you saw him groan at the heat, swiping a curl from his face.
“I’m afraid to raise my arms. It’s so humid, I’m not sure why anyone would retire here. High humidity aggravates a number of chronic conditions, especially respiratory ones, which are common in older people. Not to mention the skin cancer…”
“And it ruins your hair,” you teased.
Spencer faked a gasp, and reached for a damp, limp section of his hair.
“I mean, look at it!”
You laughed, and rolled your eyes at him, nothing but fondness settling warm and tight in your chest.
Surveying the road in front of you for one final time you saw a few curtain-twitchers, but no new faces. You climbed into the car, wincing at the heat. The seatbelt buckle was burning hot, and you swore as it burned your fingers.
“I always forget about that,” you grumbled, slamming the car door closed.
“You know, if you fasten your seatbelt after you get out, it stops the metal getting hot and burning you,” Reid offered, and you rolled your eyes at him again.
“Gosh, doesn’t it get exhausting being right about everything?”
Spencer went quiet, and all you heard was the click of his own belt. After a few moments the car was cool and bearable, and your lungs felt like they could finally move again. The sat-nav happily talked away, and you started stealing worried looks at your partner once you’d returned to properly-maintained roads.
“What you said out there was really good, do you mind if we go over it again once we get to the station? I think it’s worth exploring.”
“I shouldn’t have said it in front of them.”
He was right, but you didn’t have to heart to say anything. That was the thing which made your heart twinge about Spencer – he was so insecure, and yet so self-aware, it was the worst of both worlds. Being an expert in body language was a double-edged sword.
“I don’t think they minded. Did you hear those old ladies talking about your big brain?”
Spencer didn’t laugh. He turned himself towards the window, curled up with his hand beneath his jaw.
“They were very impressed. So was I, for what it’s worth. I think we’ll make some really good progress on this profile tonight.”
He hummed agreement. Watched a vista of blurred blue and green and white going past the window. The radio was turned down to a low hum, you could hardly hear it. Silence pierced its way through and sound of mumbled songs and road noise.
“Are you okay?” you asked finally.
“I’m okay.”
You sighed. Tapped the steering wheel. Sped a little to get through an intersection on amber.
 “Spencer…”
“I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to ruin that for you I just… sometimes I think of things and it’s like I have to tell you.
“Spencer I’m not mad at you! Not at all! I think we’re both just tired, and too warm…”
He didn’t say anything.
“Honestly, I was worried you’d heard what those ladies were saying about you and gotten upset. It was inappropriate of them…”
“I didn’t hear anything. What did they say?”
Your gaze was focused on the road, but you met Spencer’s eye in the rear-view mirror as he watched your face.
“Just that you were a handsome young man. And that they wanted you to get a haircut, which I firmly disagree with…” you teased.
Spencer touched his hair self-consciously. He was still quite curled up, leaning away from you despite his interest in the conversation.
“That’s nice of them, I suppose.”
“‘Nice’ is an interesting way of putting it, but I’m glad you’re not upset about it.”
“When I was a kid, I read a book at the library about how to tell if you’re attractive. It was for women, all about makeup and stuff, but there was a section about what made guys hot. I could never figure it out, I just always thought I looked like an alien.”
The sudden change made you sit up straight, heart in your mouth as you rolled to a stop behind a queue of traffic.
“I think everyone feels like that sometimes. Being a teenager is really hard.”
 “I… yeah. I suppose so.”
“I always felt so jealous of the people who walked around looking perfect every day, confident that they were not. It just never came naturally to me.”
“Really? I assumed you were one of those girls in school who I’d be too afraid to talk to.”
You scoffed, and for a moment were struck by how little you really knew about one another. The way Spencer looked at you, looked it everyone, it felt as though he had an x-ray into every tiny detail of your life. How could he know, though?
“Of course not,” you laughed nervously.
You weren’t sure if you’d prefer Spencer knew the truth, or kept believing whatever he’d made up ini his head. You weren’t sure what any of this conversation meant. Traffic was moving. The precinct was two turns away.
“I’m not sure I believe you.”
He was teasing you. Finally he leant back in his seat, shoulders square to it, legs stretched out in the passenger footwell.
“Either way, I’m glad you can talk to me now. I’d miss it if you didn’t.”
“You might be the only person on this planet with that opinion.”
You took a moment to glance across the car at him, and caught a flash of a smile. He was joking. You released tension from your shoulders you hadn’t realised you were holding.
“I’m sure that’s not true. You’re a handsome genius, just like Barbara said.”
“Her name was Barbara?” Reid laughed.
You shrugged, and took the final turn into the precinct parking lot.
“I’ve got no idea.”
Even with the SUV in park, the aircon no longer blasting away, neither of you moved. Not for a moment, at least. A moment of peace before the chaos all began again. Just the two of you. Wherever you were, with Spencer was your favourite place to be.
“You’re the same, you know. A genius. And handsome…”
You frowned.
“Pretty! Beautiful. You know what I mean.”
“Handsome?”
In truth, you didn’t care about the words. Not at all. Not when your heart was pounding at the realisation Spencer had his gaze fixed on your lips, his eyes soft and pupils blown wide.
“Beautiful,” Spencer repeated, “You know, in a lot of languages, handsome can be translated for men and women. The word itself doesn’t have a gender. Guapa, for example, in Spanish…”
You let him talk, on and on. You decided you wouldn’t kiss him yet, while your hair was matted in sweat and Spencer’s face was brushed with sunburn and embarrassment.
“Bella is more popular in South America, though, or bonita. My favourite is Japanese, though. Kirei. To be beautiful both inside and out…”
Only a few more moments passed before Morgan arrived and banged on the glass with a wide grin and a sweat-beaded brow, announcing a break in the case. You were sorry for the interruption.
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munsonsmixtapes · 7 months ago
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Hello!
Can you make a Virgin! Perv! Eddie fic with an assumed innocent! Virgin! Fem! Reader?
Eddie and reader are friends and he flirts with her often, but she’s all blushing and shy, very much a good girl vibe. Maybe he suggests to her to do some “self care” like Simon does with Daphne in Bridgerton…? And he sneaks out to her house and peeps her window to watch her change and stuff but finds her taking his advice and touching herself?? He doesn’t join in but jerks off outside the window to her.
Then maybe a next day scene where Eddie confronts reader and asks if anyone’s ever touched her like that before and offers to do it for her the next time she wants help?? Maybe a giggly dumb smut scene with them in a part two???
Bonus points for a girly girl reader or a chubby reader! 🥰
ugh i love this idea!
cw: masturbation
part two
Eddie knows he shouldn’t peep, but he just can’t help it. He knows he can see a woman undress on TV or even in porn, but seeing you in your pretty, lacy bras, god, that does more for him than anything else. Just one glimpse and he feels himself getting hard. 
And because he’s not a total perv, he quickly hurries to his own trailer before you get fully undressed. Besides, he likes to leave the rest up to the imagination. Imagining you taking off the bra in front of him really does wonders for his late night fantasies. 
He wonders if he’ll ever get the chance to sleep with you but he knows he won’t. Because he’s the weird metalhead who plays Dungeons and Dragons and women typically aren’t into that kind of thing. So, he thinks he’ll just settle for the little waves you give him when you see him around the trailer park and he has to act like he hasn’t seen you in your underwear. 
God, what he would give to squeeze your chubby thighs as he kisses you stupid, to love on your stomach because he sees the way you look at yourself in the mirror sometimes. He would want you to know how hot he thinks you are because fuck are you the hottest woman he’s ever seen. 
He hurries out the door to head to work and of course, you’re there, getting into your car. And he makes a beeline for you, resting his hand on the passenger door so you can’t go anywhere. He wants to look at you a little longer. You’re in one of your cute little dresses that Eddie loves. Bonus points when the wind blows your dress up ever so slightly so he can get a glimpse of your panties. 
“Hey, sweetheart,” he says as he leans in, his face only inches from yours. If he wasn’t so concerned about scaring you off, he’d lean in and kiss you. Your lips just look so inviting with that pretty pink gloss you’ve got on. He wants to kiss you until you’re both breathless then go to work where everyone’s going to ask why he’s wearing lip gloss and he’ll get to tell them that he had the honor of kissing the prettiest girl in Hawkins. 
“Hi, Eddie,” you reply, pulling him out of his daze. “How are you?” 
“Just peachy,” he replies, reaching up and fixing your cardigan that had fallen off your shoulder. It being bare is just a distraction because all he wants to do is leave hickeys across it. God, he got one glimpse of you changing by accident and now he can’t stop peeping on you or thinking about you in filthy ways. “And yourself?” 
Eddie is cute, hot, even. And you don’t know why you can’t get the guts to ask him out. You know he’s just flirting with you because it’s just who he is, but you just want to know if he’d be that nice if he took you out to dinner. 
And you can’t help but wonder what would happen afterwards. If he’d walk you to the door and kiss you there then wait for you to go inside before he went back to his own trailer. 
Your thoughts are so different to Eddie’s. So pure and sweet and that was one thing that he likes about you. That you see the world so much differently than he does and it’s always so refreshing to him. 
You seem tense and Eddie has no idea why. He wants to, though. He wants to know why, hoping that he’s not the cause of it. He would hate to be the one that makes you uncomfortable even though he’s pretty sure that he’s not. So it has to be something else. 
“Something bothering you, sweetheart?” he asks as he pushes some hair out of your face, his hand resting on your neck. 
You don’t want to tell him the truth, that he’s what’s bothering you. You have so many feelings towards him and you’re not sure how to get them out. You’re very close to just kissing him to see if his lips are as soft as you’re hoping. But you don’t. You can’t. You don’t have the confidence to do so and it’s killing you. 
You wish you were more like the girls you worked with. The confident kind who wouldn’t even bat an eye when it came to kissing a cute boy. You’re the kind who just fantasizes about it without ever actually following through with your desires. It’s too risky, especially since he’s your neighbor. If he doesn’t want to then you’re just going to think about the rejection every day for the rest of your life. And if he does kiss you back, then he’ll probably want more and you’ve never gotten to that part so you’d just end up embarrassing yourself. 
“I just-” you pause, feeling the frustration rising in you and Eddie is shocked, but also slightly amused since he’s never seen this side of you. “When’s it gonna be my turn?” You ask, looking him in the eyes. 
“For what?” He asks gently, his thumb rubbing up and down your neck with a featherlight touch. 
“For-for sex,” you blurt and Eddie doesn’t mean to laugh, but he’s just so caught off guard. Not only by your words, but also your outburst. He never expected to see you like this. 
“You do know you don’t need a partner for that sort of thing. When it’s late at night and you’re-”
“Sleeping?” Eddie laughs again. God, you’re so cute. 
“Pleasuring yourself,” he finishes and you still seem to be confused.
“Pleasuring myself?” Of course you’ve heard of it, but it’s never something you’ve done yourself. And it’s not that you haven’t wanted to, but nothing has ever made you feel that way. Nothing has ever made you feel the need to do so. 
“You do masturbate, right?” All you can do is shake your head and Eddie doesn’t judge you. He would never. He doesn’t get it, but he supposes that this could be a teaching moment. 
“You can pleasure yourself, no partner needed,” he repeats. “It especially does the trick when it’s between the legs,” he leans closer, his tongue swiping across his bottom lip before pulling it between his teeth. It’s like he knows what he’s doing to you, but the truth is that Eddie has no idea. He’s too busy thinking about how hot you’d look lying on your bed with your hand in your underwear, your eyes shut tight as you let out the hottest moans, your back arching as you reach your orgasm. 
“And when you find what feels best, you just continue until you orgasm.”
“But how do I get there? What do you do?” He’s surprised you have so little knowledge when it comes to the subject, especially when the internet exists, but again, he’s not going to judge. If he had it his way, he’d make you lie against the hood of your car and talk you through it while your fingers pumped in and out of you. And then as a reward for being such a good teacher, he’d lick your fingers clean then spread your legs wide, fucking you so hard that you’d be forced to call out of work because you couldn’t walk.
“I just imagine someone, maybe a situation that gets me hard and then go to town. I’d love to stay and chat about this sweetheart. Believe me, I really would, but I’ve gotta get to work. Give me a call afterwards and we can chat about it, okay?” 
He presses a kiss to your cheek then heads back to his trailer where his van is parked. You stand there, still in shock from your conversation. You had no idea that it would get to that point but now you have so many questions that you’d really like for him to answer, but they’ll just have to wait until tonight. 
You think about Eddie’s words the entire day. You’re so distracted as you sit at your desk, surprised that you’re able to write out an email to your boss, because all you can think about is Eddie and his words and how badly you want to call him after work and have him talk you through the pleasure he’s talking about. You want to do it, but you want to do it right. And you’re sure that he’d be able to teach you. 
You get home from work after the longest day of your life and as much as you want Eddie’s help, you think your first time should be by yourself. It only seems right. So after you set your purse by your desk before taking off your pants. You sit on the edge of your bed and try to get in the right headspace. 
You lie on your bed with your head on your pillow and spread your legs ever so slightly, closing your eyes as you slowly stick your hand on your underwear, pushing them into your cunt with the lightest touch. You pump in and out as your mind goes to Eddie, imagining him being the one to touch you like this. 
That seems to do the trick because the next thing you know, you’re moaning. You don’t know why you were so nervous. This is easy and definitely the most pleasure you’ve ever felt, especially when you have Eddie’s face in your mind, guiding you through the motions. 
You can imagine how his rings would feel inside you, the cold metal thrusting in and out as he smiles down at you with a devilish grin, telling you just how good of a girl you are. You want him, need him so desperately that you’re moaning his name as you reach your first orgasm. 
Eddie can’t believe what he’s seeing. He had every intention of watching you change, but now he’s stayed for the show. Seeing that you’ve taken his advice has filled him with a pride that he’s never experienced. He’s also super hard. So much so that he needs to take care of himself, and now. And when you moan his name as you climax? Oh, he’s done for and his pants have dropped to the ground before he can even process what he’s doing. 
He pulls down his underwear and takes hold of his cock, giving it a few slow pumps, wishing that you were the one to jack him off. His eyes flutter shut as he throws his head back, his pumps getting harder and faster as he covers his mouth to stifle his moans. You can’t know that he’s out there watching you. That’s just his little secret and he’d be mortified if you ever found out. 
“Eddie,” you moan out again and he thinks he’s going to come right then and there. God, he needs to hear that while he’s above you pumping in and out, in and out as he fucks you hard and deep, wanting you to cry on his cock as he gets all of himself inside you. 
He needs to hear you beg for him, your whiny moans making him even harder as he pounds into you. He needs to fuck you so hard that you’re unable to walk. But this is the closest he’s ever going to get. Because you’re a nice girl and he wouldn’t want to corrupt you like that. He’s always never actually had sex and he’d be embarrassed to admit that to you even though he’s sure that you never have either. 
His pumps get slower as he imagines how gentle you’d be with him. You’d be so gentle with him and he can’t help but let his mind wander to how you’d suck him off. If you’d take him all at once or inch by inch. You’re his good girl so you’d probably go for it all at once because of how badly you’d want to please him. And he’d fuck your mouth in a rapid speed as he hands tug on your hair, his balls slapping about because of how fast he’s going. 
That seems to do the trick because Eddie finishes fast, cum leaking out of his cock and god does he wish you could clean it up for him. He doesn’t bother wiping it off as he pulls up his underwear and jeans before heading inside for a much needed shower where he’s going to think of you some more. 
Once you’ve gotten your fill, you get the best sleep of your life, wondering why you had been so hellbent on finding a partner when you had the capability of pleasuring yourself the whole time. You got exactly what you wanted and didn’t need anyone’s help to do it. Even if you wanted a certain curly haired metalhead to do the honors. Maybe if you’d get the guts to ask him, he would. He’d do anything for you, even though you weren’t aware of it.
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wandanatskitten · 10 months ago
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I feel like this is a good trailer to a story idk. But like Dom/CEO!WandaNat who is obsessed with you and only wants you to need them. And I love a good corruption kink. I think that would fit. But anyway, I hope you enjoy this little story :))
Also thank you to the new followers and likes. I know I disappeared for a few months, but I see you guys 🫶
18+ nothing too crazy just pet names and mentions of sex
Trailer pt.2
Imagine Wanda and Natasha noticing you for the first time. Seeing you innocently wait for the bus that takes you to your college campus. A light rain pouring down as you bundle yourself in a hefty sweater. Tapping your toes in a puddle with classic yellow rain boots on. Their view comes to a short halt as the bus arrives but resumes when you sit near the back window. Before you could part, their curiosity gets the best of them as they instruct their driver.
Wanda: Follow that bus.
Natasha: You read my mind.
They keep their distance for two weeks. Gathering intel, becoming knowledgeable of your daily activities. Your biggest pattern is a local cafe only a few blocks from your campus. You go there everyday around 2:15pm and leave back to campus by 3:00pm. So when they finally enter the cafe, Wanda and Natasha already have planned exactly how to approach you. Natasha, sitting in the cafe, watches as Wanda bumps into you and spills your drink. It coats her designer more than your thrifted clothes and the guilt in your voice makes the rest too easy. Natasha jumps in to help clean the mess and ease the tension, while Wanda talks away your embarrassment. Two beautiful women put out the bait and you unknowingly bit the line.
Natasha: Here Wands, I got some napkins.
Wanda: Thank you.
Y/n: I am so sorry, I’m such a clutz.
Natasha: Don’t worry so is she. How bout I get you another drink, this time on me.
Y/n: Oh no I couldn’t-
Natasha: I insist.
Everything felt fated when you were with them since that moment. Little did you know the two women were calculated with every move they made. Paying for your coffee but purposely spilling it. That was only the starting line. Causing problems that only they could fix. Every time something went wrong, they would be there to make it right. Giving you a sense fear and loneliness when they weren’t there but balancing it with feelings of hope and dependency when they were with you. Imprinting their own twisted form of Stockholm into your brain.
Natasha: See kitten, this is why you don’t go out without us. Who else is going to protect you?
Wanda: You’re just a helpless little thing huh? You need us to keep you safe, right bunny?
*You nod and lean into their embrace*
Wanda and Natasha felt warm and safe. Soft hands paired with a firm touch made you feel loved and desired. And there was nothing you craved more than the feeling of being wanted by the redhead and brunette. The feeling of Wanda’s hands holding you firmly to the mattress as you squirmed from the intensity you felt with Natasha’s lips kissing every inch of your body. They knew you were impatient and smirked regardless because your impatience stemmed from your desperation. The desperation you felt between your thighs when Natasha instructs you with a low rasp in her voice. The neediness that pained you when Wanda would stop the curl of her fingers just before you could reach your climax. She loved the sounds of your whimpers as you grew closer and closer to the edge. And the absolute submission you reveled in when both women would watch and comment as if you couldn’t hear. You touch yourself, knowing you’d receive no real relief unless one of them was trapped between your thighs. But you loved their power hungry eyes as they shifted into a faux pity. Because since the beginning you would become helpless without them.
Natasha: Keep those pretty eyes open, kitten. Or else I stop.
Wanda: Keep crying for me, bunny. I promise I’ll let you cum this time.
Wanda: Look at how wet our little pet is.
Natasha: Mhm, and watch how her eyes beg us to touch her. The poor thing can’t cum without one of us buried in her cunt.
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fellominaarcher · 1 month ago
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i love your writing so much, especially ur jennie headcanons. can u please write a after concert smut ff with jennie 🫠 like maybe after her coachella set
Onto You — JENNIE x fem!reader
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author's note: I'm sooo sorry that this is a tad late :// and also, I think red is my color atp
content warning: not proofread so I just write all cos I'm in the feels (I'm sort of drunk writing this😔) soooo dom!fem!reader, a little rough and needy sex, cunnilingus, fingering :p
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There she was. Your girlfriend. Invited to perform at one of the biggest music festivals, Coachella. Not her first time, though and certainly never her last. Nevertheless, you're proud of her. You show it always, by giving gifts and showering her sweet, romantic words.
Standing there, a little far from the sweaty and jumping crowd, you have been watching her. Shouting to her songs and dancing to some of them too.
Her set ended, you're waiting in her trailer and you were lucky to have the access to it—because you're dating THE Jennie Kim.
The door to the trailer opened and entered your beautiful yet tired looking girlfriend, a grin formed on her face as soon as her eyes landed on you and the twinkle in her eyes shined brighter, moving quick to you with open arms.
Immediately, you both closed the distance and you wrapped your arms around her. Inhaling her sweet scent—one of her designer perfumes collection, not that you're complaining. It's your favorite scent after all. Jennie leaned back a little just to look at your face and her smile was soft, that's all you needed in this world.
“Were you waiting for me?” Jennie asked, she pouted a little and her finger was teasing you at the back of your neck.
The look in her eyes was one of a teasing, you were lying if you said it wasn't tempting you to just strip her naked and kiss her full with your eyes, with her beneath you and whimpering.
You chuckled before answering, “Yes but I don't mind waiting and you did so well, baby. I loved your performance,” it was sincere and your hands were resting on her lower back, pulling her in to press her body into yours.
“Thank you and I need you. Right now. Come and take me, Y/N. Make me feel really good,” Jennie responded then somewhere along she changed the flow of her words, she was painfully needy.
But the look on her face? She was biting back a smirk, then playful in her eyes—lord, it's dangerous and her fingers lightly scratching at the back of your neck. She's bratty as always and you? As usual, having to show her real lessons.
You raised a brow at her words before sighing softly and you held her slightly firmer in your hands, leaning in to press your lips against her and it was evident that you were both were hungry for each other.
Jennie Kim was something else. The woman who would you risk it all for. Your tongue clashes with hers and you taste it all. Deep breaths. Eyes shut closed. The beat was rising. As if bodies were melting into each other's. Fuck, there's nothing you want more than to pound your fingers into her cunt and have her helpless beneath.
Then you spun her around and guided her gently to push her to sit on the small couch tucked at the corner of Jennie's trailer. Down on the couch with a small yelp, impatiently, you unbuttoned her shorts with such urgent.
Her knee high boots were in the way and a small laugh escaped Jennie's lips so they have to take off those boots first. Once Jennie is all bare beneath her waist, her exposed cunt is wet and your eyes darkened with lust.
“Fuck... Jennie, you're stunning,” you whispered then you grabbed Jennie's hips and pulled her closer, burying your face between her legs. Her legs over your shoulders. Jennie gasped as your tongue made contact with her needy hole and the tip of your nose was pressing on her clit.
You devoured Jennie, licking every inch of her fold and then plunging your tongue into her cunt. All the while Jennie's fingers gripping your hair and she pushed your face further into her wet cunt. It made you grip her thighs firmer and then you move to gently lick on her clit.
“Oh, baby, fuck! I need more,” Jennie moaned out and she bit her lips to the sensation of your tongue pleasing the hell out of her.
To add more to the pleasure that's streaming in her bloodline, you push two fingers into her pussy and you do what you do best—a steady pace while fucking her with your fingers, in and out. Jennie was on the verge of screaming when you hit her sensitive spot, the heat sending shockwaves throughout her body.
“I'm close,” Jennie panted, barely able to get her words out. You responded by doubling your efforts, pushing Jennie over the edge into ecstasy.
Jennie grinded her hips into your face trying to reach her climax. The height of her pleasure was building within her, higher and higher with each swipe of your tongue.
At last, Jennie cried out, her body shaking with the force of her orgasm. As the waves of her pleasure subsided, Jennie sunk into the small couch and she swung off one leg of your shoulder.
Both of you were breathing heavily and Jennie was glistening with sweat. You looked up at her with a grin playing on your lips, “I can't wait to do more with you when we're back at the hotel, Jen,” you smiled as if your chin weren't sticky because of her pussy.
Jennie reached a hand towards your head and she caressed your head, “Only with you, babe. Only with you.”
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starkeyisthelastname · 1 year ago
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What about reader riding trailer park rafe’s cock?
that old worn couch is subject to a lot of dirty mean sex 💦😩
It had been a long day for him, working some shitty job and sweatin’ his ass off in the brutal Carolina heat, just for his truck to fuck up on the way home. He thankfully got it started up again, zooming it through the park until he pulled up to his run down trailer. You were already by the creaky steps waiting for him, lookin’ all pretty with a smile on your face. He was in a piss poor mood, hot and just wanted to sit on his ass.
“Get inside, gimme a beer and bring me my plate.” He grumbled, stomping past you with a brooding look on his handsome face. Of course he expected you to wait on him hand and foot, like a good little trailer park house wife does.
He slid off his belt, throwing it on the old wooden coffee table before lazily resting on the worn couch. You’d bring him a plate full of food you had cooked and a cold beer from the fridge. He watched you then fix a smaller plate for yourself, before coming down to sit next to him. It would be quiet except for the shitty tv playing something that his eyes were focused on while he ate his food up and downed his beer.
It was after he cleared his plate, he felt a little better and wanted to relax even more with his dick inside your cunt. “Hey, go get me another one sugar.” He said, his voice a little less gruff than when he had greeted you as he waved his empty beer can around. You always felt giddy at his sweet names he called you, prancing over to the fridge to get him another beer, like a good obedient doll. He watched that sweet bare ass peek out of your dress as you bent over, his mind made up even more as he lit a cigarette and popped the button of his jeans open.
As you approached with his beer, he reached out with two rough hands to pull you onto his lap to straddle. He took the beer from you, one hand coming up to take a drag from his cigarette before inhaling the smoke and putting the bud out. His blue eyes grazed over you, blowing out the smoke over your sweet smelling self as he drank in every inch he was gonna ruin some more of.
“I’m gonna stretch your little cunt out for a while. Kay sweetheart?” He said, hand that wasn’t holding his beer coming up to grip your jaw so that you would keep your eyes on him. You nodded eagerly, already lifting up your dress like he been teaching you.
You’d let out the prettiest whine, grasping his broad shoulder for support while he helped you ease down onto his fat length. He was huge, always stretching your pretty cunt open and making your head dizzy when you felt him inside. “T-too big.” You couldn’t help but whimper, tensing up as he filled you to the brim and placed his hands on your hips to squeeze.
You were such a tight fuck, gripping his dick as he started slowly guiding you up and down. “You can fuckin’ take it babydoll. Let that fat cock stuff your sweet hole full.” He grunted, teaching you how to ride dick so that on days he didn’t feel like putting in the work he could still get a nut.
As you began to find a rhythm, letting those beautiful moans echo of the trailer walls, he then let his hands go and rested them behind his head. He’d lean back against the tattered loveseat, dirty smirk on his face as he watched you begin to bounce up and down without any help. You were such a good little listener, dainty hands tugging at the old silver chain he wore around his neck, and letting those pretty knees work.
He’d even reach over to grab another cigarette, lighting it as it hung between his lip and nodding his head towards you to keep going when you slowed down. “Didn’t I say you could stop? Lemme’ me fuckin’ relax and get to fuckin hoppin’.” He said, his voice sounding mean again as he was gonna make you work for it before he really gave it to you.
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track11 · 2 months ago
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Hii could you write Van x fem reader where reader is taking care of Van while she’s on her period or sick? Something fluffy, hurt comfort vibes. Pre crash xx
Let me take care of you
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pairing: teen van x fem reader summary: taking care of your stubborn girlfriend while she’s on her period warnings: period cramps, fluff a/n: thank you for requesting hehe, I hope you like it <3 word count: 1k
You hadn’t seen Van all day, not by her locker, not in the cafeteria at lunch, nowhere. It’s not that it was unlike her to skip school, she’d just normally tell you first and beg you to join her. By last period, you’d given up pretending to care about class, tuning out your math teacher’s long-winded explanations as you stare at the empty seat next to you, wondering if she was just sick or skipping without you.
You quickly shake that thought away - she wouldn’t do that. Instead, you decide to check by her house just to make sure she’s ok. You catch a ride with Natalie to the trailer park. She didn’t know about you and her teammate, but she knew you were close, plus she liked you enough not to make you walk to the other side of town.
You nod at Nat as you hop out of her car, walking up the grassy path to your girlfriend’s door, quietly entering to avoid waking her mom - who’s passed out on the couch again, and making your way to Van’s room.
“Van?” You knock, letting out a relieved breath as you hear a muffled groan and a soft “come in”. Entering her room (messy as always), you find her buried beneath blankets.
She tosses around to look at you, wrapped in her sheets like a cocoon. Smiling as you walk closer, she watches you through tired eyes, it’s clear you woke her up.
“You ok there?” Laughing softly at the state she’s in, feeling a little more concerned as she turns away mumbling about cramps.
You hum in understanding; her period always treats her much worse than yours does to you. You quickly kneel beside her bed, hand resting on the Van-shaped lump among the blankets, wishing you could make her feel better.
“Is it bad? Can I get you anything?” She only grunts in response, you know she likes putting up a tough front, as if she’s beyond pain, but you know her better than that. Not taking that as an answer, you pull her shoulder to face you, frowning as you see right through her guarded expression.
“I’m fine.” She rolls onto her back, stubbornly pretending her stomach isn’t killing her. Your eyebrows raise as you stare at her, her red hair tangled and skin paler than usual, if that’s even possible for Van. You bring your hand up to play with a piece of hair that’s escaped from the blankets, almost melting as her eyes struggle to stay open.
“You’re clearly not. Let me make you tea or something. Do you have your hot water bottle?” She constantly claims to hate the fuss but you both know she doesn’t, secretly loving the opportunity to be cared for by you.
“I’m fine don’t worry about me,” she repeats, smiling softly although not entirely convincingly. She wants to give in, but she doesn’t quite know how.
You sigh, “please? Just let me take care of you.” You plead, staring into her eyes as your hand continues to play with the strand of hair, head inching closer to hers on the side of her mattress. She matches your gaze, and you can tell by the way she bites her lip that she wants to let you. She nods softly in surrender, a combination of the pain and caring look in your eyes enough to allow herself to be vulnerable.
“It hurts.” Her voice comes out in a soft whisper that almost breaks you. Bringing your hands up to cup her face, you kiss her forehead as she pulls out her heating pad, murmuring against her skin.
“I know, I’ll be back soon, I promise.” You gently rub her face before leaving to quickly reheat the bottle and make her tea.
When you return, she’s half asleep again, staring at you hazily as she unwraps herself to sit up, drinking her tea with a soft thank you.
“Wanna watch a movie?” Her whole face perks up at the proposal as she nods. She’d spent the day either bored out of her mind, in pain, or asleep, now happily watching you scan her seemingly endless collection before making your decision. You fiddle with her crappy tv before climbing onto her mattress, sitting against the bedhead next to her, noticing the frown on her face.
“What?” You laugh as she pouts harder, her hands coming up from under the blankets to pull you closer. You let her maneuver you by your waist as you lean in to kiss her softly, her face warm in your hands. Staring at her as your noses nearly touch, you feel her hands grip your waist tighter in a silent demand for closeness. You can’t help but roll your eyes at her attitude switch, her stubborn defiance traded in for the growing need to have you as close as possible. Pulling away, you settle under the covers with her, her face immediately happy again. She’s warm next to you, moving her body to lean against your chest, her head resting up on your shoulder.
You can tell she’s tired, if it were any other day, she’d be quoting the movie every five seconds or telling you some obscure fact about the actors. So, you let her rest, feeling her head grow heavier as she relaxes into you, welcoming the familiar scent of her shampoo as a compromise for how her hair is tickling your neck.
The movie continues, but your girlfriend has clearly lost focus, asleep against you as your arm holds her waist, gently rubbing her stomach as if you can stop her cramps.
You’ve lost interest in the movie too, watching Van instead, admiring the soft rise and fall of her chest and how peaceful she looks. You can’t help but fall asleep with her, it’s not like you could get up anyway (not that you would ever want to), her back tightly pressed against you, your head on top of hers, hoping she’s feeling a little better with you beside her.
taglist 💌 (a sad, small work in progress): @callsignwidow
My requests are open <3
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bitterbutblue · 10 months ago
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interrogation - jane doe
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just know you'll taste me too ☆ jane doe x fem!reader
~ THE JANE DOE TRAILER WAS SO FAN SERVICE BUT SORRY IT UNLOCKED SOMETHING IN ME... HOT RAT GIRL SAVE ME...
warning: SUGGESTIVE AND I SAY THE SEX WORD LIKE ONCE
song: taste - sabrina carpenter ~
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────
The first thing you took note of was how much your head hurt. An incessant pounding, each worse than the last. You take a deep breath in, feeling the cold air fill your lungs. It stings, breathing stings. It's like a blade dragging itself down your throat and it makes you feel like coughing. The second thing you take note of is the feeling of ropes digging into your skin around your wrists and ankles. You squirmed, trying to move but to no avail. You were tied down. The last thing you took note of was where you were. Your vision begins to clear itself after a couple blinks- you looked around, breathing shakily as you eyed the dark surroundings. Nothing but a single lamp light pointed down at you. Everything else was dark.
"Good morning~"
A sultry voice echoes through the room- low and smooth. The woman's voice wraps around your neck, her voice is your chokehold. You look around, eyes darting from left to right, up to down, as you try to find the source of the voice.
"Who- where the fuck am I?"
Your voice is hoarse, raspy. Your throat feels scratchy and speaking just dries it out even more. You wonder how long you've been knocked out for.
"You would want to know, wouldn't you?"
"Who the fuck wouldn't?"
You couldn't stop the retorts- yes you were about to possibly die but what fucking right does this woman have?
"Honestly, I don't think that matters too much. Also, watch your language- it's quite vulgar."
The figure steps out from the shadows, a blade in her hand. An all-too smug smirk on her face as she crouches down to your eye level. You would recognise that goddamn face from anywhere.
"Jane."
"Hi."
"Fuck you."
She just giggles.
"Glad to see you remember me."
Supposedly working for under the boss of your gang, but god knows better than that. You had your suspicions since the very first day and the day your gang got busted down. She had ran away- and the last thing you remember is a waft of smoke in front of your eyes and a wet towel with a foul odour over your nose and mouth.
"Bitch."
She narrows her eyes, standing up to move behind you. You hear her footsteps, soft but it still echoes in the hollows of this dark room. You gasp when you feel her lean over your shoulder, her hair tickling your neck as she smiles.
"Don't think I've forgotten our history, my dear."
Gay people always have some fucked up history with each other and this is more or less the proof. Having had sex with her on multiple occasions while she was working for your boss was probably not ideal for this situation too.
"Shame. I always wanted to see you tied down for me, just not under these circumstances."
You scoffed, looking away. You couldn't help the blush that had started creeping up from your neck and had now dusted your cheeks with a bright shade of pink. You shifted uncomfortably, trying to find some way out of the stupid ropes.
"What do you want."
You curse yourself for your shaky voice.
"I just have a few questions."
You couldn't help but roll your eyes. It was always more than 'just a few questions'. It has never, and never will be, 'just a few questions' with Jane. She moves so that she's knelt between your thighs and in other circumstances this would've been incredibly hot (but truthfully told you couldn't help but swallow at the sight). Her tail wraps itself around your leg as she inches closer.
"How did he get away?"
"How the fuck am I supposed to know? You knocked me the fuck out!"
She rests a hand on your thigh and you physically shudder at the touch.
You feel pathetic.
"You were a high ranking member. Not as high ranking as me.. but-"
"Okay, no need to rub that in-"
"But. We had you all surrounded. There was no way a 7 foot giant of a man could've gotten away. How?"
Is she just bad at her job?
"Dude, how the fuck am I supposed to know? I'm a lower rank than you- you should've kidnapped someone else for fuck's sake!"
Jane just giggles as her fingers begin inching up higher and higher and the once icy cold room suddenly feels like it's burning hot. You squirm again, there has to be some fucking way out of these binds. Her tail unravels itself, moving up so that it caresses your face. You shiver at the touch- the cold, metallic blade just barely grazing your cheek.
"You had connections with him no one else had."
"Shut- what?"
"You were the most convenient one to grab... considering your long history with the boss I wouldn't be surprised if he was your uncle."
"He's not." You scowl, trying not to show her exactly how much her touch affects you. You feel the blade on her tail move down, now moving itself to graze your neck.
Why was that so hot?
"Hm, sure."
She just giggles again, this time moving off her knees and back onto her feet. She presses a hand against your chest, the other on the side of your thigh as she leans down so that her face was mere inches from yours and you can feel her breath fan against your face and you can feel her eyes boring into yours and-
Oh you're so gay.
"Just tell me where he went, and we can settle this nicely like before."
"What? Did you just want to fuck me one last time before I go to jail or something?"
"Maybe." She shrugs, hand trailing up so that it wrapped around your neck. You felt her squeeze gently, and your breath catches in your throat. The room is overheating. You're overheating.
"Just be a good girl for me and tell me the truth?"
That bitch.
You couldn't help but shudder but god you can't give in to her because you're horny and pathetic, that's so stupid!
"Fuck you."
She sighs.
"I knew this would take a while."
Her eyes dart up and down your body, taking in your restrained state with a small and satisfied smirk as her grasp around your throat softens. You catch your breath- only for it to be taken away when you feel her blade trail downwards.
"I don't mind staying."
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huhmiya · 1 year ago
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CINEMA | chris sturniolo
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pairing: bf!chris x f!reader
summary: you and chris went to the cinema to watch a new film that you both had been eagerly anticipating. he wanted to have a special time together, considering it a cinema date. however, once in the cinema, he became too aroused because of you, leading to him getting carried away and having to excuse himself with you to the bathroom, which resulted in missing most of the film.
warning: smut, fingering, swearing, pet names (ma, love, good girl, darling), use of y/n, public place, dominant chris, bathroom sex, needy chris, hair pulling, ass grabbing, p in v, unprotected sex.
a/n: not my photos, found on pinterest. not sure about this one tbh.
WORDS: 2.8k
huhmiya on wattpad
you - pink | chris - orange
-
You and Chris have been eagerly waiting to watch a film at the cinema for the past few months. His identical brothers expressed interest in joining, but Chris preferred to have some alone time with you.
"What would you like?" he asked, who already ordered popcorn and a Pepsi for himself. He insisted on paying for your items, not letting you pay.
As he ordered what you wanted and handed you your items, his contagious smile made you smile back. "Thank you," you said, which caused him to smile a little more before grabbing his popcorn and Pepsi.
Walking into the movie theater together, he took your spare hand and led you to your seats, pulling you down next to him. As you settled down, he watched your movements, admiring the shape of your thighs as they spread out slightly due to you sat down. He adored your thighs.
"Would you like a hand?" he asked, eager to feel the touch of your skin. He cherished the sensation of your touch and was willing to do anything to maintain that connection, even if it meant giving up his YouTube career.
Ignoring the fact that you didn't actually need assistance, he was determined to help to you. As you reached for the snack you had mentioned wanting, he swiftly took them from you and placed them where you intended. "Really?" you muttered, to which he responded with a smile, revealing his teeth.
He rested his hand on your thigh and gently squeezed it, relishing the feel of your soft skin against his warm palm.
"I sometimes wonder how I managed to win you over," he whispered before planting a kiss on your cheek. When he noticed the movie had started, he shifted slightly to get more comfortable in his seat, while keeping his hand on your thigh still.
The movie started playing, capturing both of your attentions since you both had been eager to watch it ever since seeing the promising trailer.
His thumb gently caressed your upper thigh, inching closer to your intimate area, though he was unaware as his soul intention was to provide you comfort, which he achieved flawlessly.
His piercing blue eyes were fixed on you rather than the film for the past ten minutes, finding your profile captivating despite your self-perception. "Stop staring," you playfully scolded, glancing at your boyfriend who only smirked in response, refusing to divert his gaze from you.
"Your beauty mesmerizes me, darling. How can I not resist looking at you?" he whispered, stealing a few more glances before turning back to the movie.
You playfully rolled your eyes and kissed his cheek, causing him to raise an eyebrow before returning his blue orbs at you.
He casually moved his hand from your thigh and brushed your hair away from your face, using it as an excuse to touch your skin even more.
Chris found himself looking at you once more than at the film you both had been eager to watch ever since hearing about it. "Okay, my beauty can't be that good," you teased, catching his stare again.
"Trust me, it is," Chris whispered, placing his hand back on your thigh. Though his hand was now closer to your warmth which is between your legs, you were wearing shorts and a fresh love shirt that Chris had given you earlier before you both headed out to see this movie.
As you both finally focused on the movie, he couldn't help but feel a stirring in his body, drawn in by your scent and the softness of your skin against his.
Quietly, he adjusted his shorts and boxers, subtly shifting in his seat to compose himself without drawing your attention to the growing intensity he was experiencing.
Despite feeling exposed in his vulnerability, he couldn't resist the desire for more.
Observing your engrossment in the film, he scanned the surroundings and noted the proximity of other moviegoers, ensuring that the slight thrill of the moment was contained within a safe distance. The other couple nearby though remained on the opposite side of the aisle, four rows behind you both.
"What are you looking at?" Your question caused him to turn his head towards you suddenly, his heart skipping a beat as he jumped slightly in surprise at your unexpected message.
"I was checking out the people around us, seeing how far away we are from everyone else," he explains, as his finger traces from your upper thigh to your shorts.
"I wanna pleasure you.. I'll make sure no one sees, but you must promise to stay quiet, okay?" His words were laced with desire. His speech made you surprised and confused due to how bold it was.
You trusted him, so you spoke, which made him smirk because those were the words he wanted to hear. "okay..."
He made sure no one was looking before taking off your shorts. He couldn't help but smile like a kid in a candy store. He loved when you were like this with him, especially when he was feeling aroused.
He pulled your shorts off, but only up to your knees, so if someone did happen to see, he could quickly pull them back up before security noticed or something.
He rubbed his thumb against your thong, making you widen your eyes, which caused him to quietly chuckle so it wasn’t attracting anyone attention, except from you.
He felt your wetness seep through, which prompted him to whisper in your ear, "Didn't know you needed me that badly," as he bit your earlobe and then kissed your cheek.
He discreetly kept watch to see no one was looking, as he had promised not to let anyone catch a glimpse. His hand moved to the waistband of your thong.
As he began to pull them down, revealing your bare pussy that he adored, his fingers gently caressed your folds before teasingly slipping one finger inside, aware of your desire for more.
Feeling himself grow harder because of you, he set aside his own needs to focus on pleasuring you.
You attempted to stifle any sounds to avoid drawing attention, trying to concentrate on the movie, even though the pleasure he was giving you was incredible.
Unexpectedly, he added two more fingers, intending to use only two but ending up with three inside you. He skillfully curled them once he located your g-spot.
His arousal evident but yet he refrained from touching himself or adjusting in his boxers, solely focused on satisfying you.
He watched as you bit your lip and closed your eyes in pleasure while he pleasured you with his fingers. He increased the pace, his thumb teasing your sensitive spot, causing you to squirm with delight, a reaction he enjoyed, knowing he was satisfying you.
"Close?" he whispered, his intense blue eyes focused on you, observing how your innocence transformed into desire as he brought you to climax with his familiar touch.
You refrained from speaking, both aware that a moan could escape your lips and draw unwanted attention in the cinema. Instead, you simply nodded in response.
He noticed your body tense around his fingers, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips as you reached your peak.
Thankfully, you managed to stifle any loud sounds when you coated his fingers, although it was a challenge to contain your pleasure. You breathed heavily, releasing your lip from where you had bitten it hard enough to draw blood.
He withdrew his fingers, licking them clean before helping you adjust your clothing, ensuring that no one noticed the intimate moment you shared in the cinema.
“Are you okay, love?" He asked, wanting to ensure your well-being, not wanting you to feel irritated later by what had happened, especially if someone had seen, even though no one knew or anything similar.
"No, I'm not," you replied playfully. Chris froze for a moment before realizing it was in jest. He smiled and playfully twirled a few strands of your hair.
He found himself needing to touch himself even more, still feeling a throbbing pain. He had completely forgotten about the film and his desire earlier.
"y/n," he said your name quietly, savoring the sound of it. What made it even better for him was that his brother would sometimes express annoyance when you weren't shopping with them or somewhere else, chris always mentioned how you would love something or recounting a story about you.
You looked at him and smiled, your focus now on him rather than the film. You didn't know what was happening in the movie as most of the time you were being pleasured by him.
He knew he couldn’t come out with it directly, so he began by asking a few questions in order to lead up to the main reason. “Do you know what's happening in the movie, because I'm a bit lost?”
His needs were escalating, and he reached out to hold your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours.
“Not really,” you reply honestly. Even though both of you have wanted to watch the movie, he was relieved by your answer right now.
“Should we just skip it? I can get tickets for us to see it tomorrow or something,” he offers. As you look at him, he uses his spare hand to discreetly touch himself through his shorts and boxers, trying to stifle his moans. You hadn’t notice that yet.
“I don’t mind, do you?” you inquire. He remains silent for a moment, trying to contain himself as he struggles with the urge to climax while discreetly touching himself.
He removes his hand with hesitation and made his other hand stop holding yours. Instead he grabs your wrist, guiding it to his throbbing member.
“I need you. I need to be close to you, please ma.” He whispered, his eyes locked on yours in the dark movie theater, illuminated only by the flickering light of the movie screen.
His hands wandered over your thighs. "Please," he pleaded softly. You knew you couldn't, even though you wanted to. If you engaged in intimacy here, someone would surely see you two and get security.
"We can't. We'll get caught," you said, causing him to roll his eyes and quickly suggest, "Shall we go to the bathroom?" He was willing to beg on his knees if necessary.
He was consumed by his desire for you, feeling a relentless need that left him in torment. He understood his craving and it was to be close to you, to be inside you.
You were about to say yes, but he didn’t wait any longer. He grabbed your arm and stood up, leading you out of the theater, possibly heading to the restroom.
“I can't wait any longer, I need you so badly. I feel like I'm going crazy,” he said, taking you to the men's bathroom where no one else was present. He entered a stall and started kissing you passionately.
He pressed his knee against the area between your legs, his kisses were intense yet filled with love. He slipped his tongue into your mouth as you reciprocated.
Moaning, he squeezed your ass through your shorts. “I'm so lucky to have you, I have no complaints,” he said after pulling away and moving to kiss your neck, marking you as his own.
You removed his shorts, letting them fall to the ground, but neither of you cared as desire took over. He was aroused in his boxers.
He then helped you remove your shirt, as he also discarded his own.
You playfully tease him, calling him 'so needy,' but he just rolls his eyes with a small chuckle and takes off your bra, casually dropping it on the stall floor.
He gazes at your breasts and begins to caress your nipple, eliciting a soft moan from you. “You love that ma?” he whispers. “mhm”
He kisses your lips and undresses you, leaving you naked while he remains in boxers.
Your hands explore his body until you remove his boxers, feeling the heat of his skin against yours. “I need you y/n” he confesses.
Your touch has him on the verge of climaxing, but he desires to be inside you, savoring the sound of your sweet moans blending with the rhythm of your bodies together.
"I need you too," your voice was like music to his ears, and he didn't hesitate; his pre-cum was already leaking from his pink tip.
He turned you around, admiring your beloved ass for various reasons: the way it gently bounced as you walked, when he took you from behind, when he rested his head on your back while you lay on your stomach.
Brushing your hair aside, he kissed your shoulder before entering you, causing you to moan. "Be loud for me, my love, no one here," he urged.
He started to thrust inside you, causing a blend of pain and pleasure that made you moan, but he was whispering things to make you forget about the pain.
His size initially caused discomfort as he stretched you, but as you got more used to it and he stimulated your G-spot, the pain gradually faded, making room for heightened pleasure.
He continued to thrust in and out of you, kissing your neck and jawline, pulling your hair to reach your sensitive spots.
The sound of your bodies coming together echoed in the empty cinema restroom where you were alone, intensifying the intimate moment.
As he moaned at the tightness, his hands explored your body, focusing on your breasts by pinching your nipples.
"I'm so close to climaxing when your so tight around me," he whispered. He heard the bathroom door creek so he was alerting you to the presence of someone else entering the restroom. He quickly covered your mouth and urged you to be silent.
Despite the interruption, he didn't stop, instead becoming more intense and faster, making it challenging for you to contain your moans.
He listened to the sound of someone washing their hands and then leaving. “Good girl for staying quiet,” he whispered.
He tugged your hair to make you look at him while he was having sex with you from behind. His blue eyes locked on yours. “Keep looking at me like that, and I'll have to punish you,” he said firmly before releasing your hair and gripping your hip.
As he was reaching climax, you could sense it by the way his large member twitched. He thrust hard into you, causing you to moan loudly.
It felt like he was discovering new pleasure spots you never knew existed. “Chris.. I'm close,” you gasped.
“Me too, darling,” he murmured. With that, he climaxed inside you, continuing to move inside you vigorously until you also reached orgasm.
As he finished, his hot release mixed with yours, dripping out of you onto the bathroom stall floor.
“fuck ma, I love you,” he said, pulling out with a pop and then adjusting your position to see your face.
You looked adorable in his eyes, with sweat glistening and a lazy smile as you were catching your breath, mirroring his own. He gently wiped the mascara off your cheek and kissed your lips softly, briefly pausing before diving into a passionate make-out session.
“I love you more,” you whispered after he pull away but he embraced you, your sweaty bodies pressed against each other. He rested his head on your shoulder, his fingers entwined in your hair.
“Impossible,” he murmured softly before pulling away to clean you up with a tissue, help you put your clothes back on, and then get dressed himself.
“Let’s get out of here,” you suggested, both of you eager to leave and head back to his place.
He took your hand and led you out of the men's bathroom before anyone could see. His thumb caressed your palm as he exited the cinema with you.
“I promise to buy another ticket... maybe tomorrow? Who knows, we might have another round,” he smirked, placing his hand on your hip instead of holding hands.
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blackkwidowed · 1 year ago
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Rewatching black widow has led to the conclusion that in the scene in Norway where Nat is watching the movie in her trailer, that woman is entirely just in a shirt and underwear.
norway nat is a favourite of mine, here is another lil taste of my brain. did someone order dirty talk? she's not wearing underwear this time
Nat emerges from the bathroom, quietly pottering down the hall to where you're half-lay on the couch with a book in your hands and a blanket over your lap.
She's wearing your shirt this time, you note. It makes you smile softly at her as she reaches you, taking the book from your hands and setting it aside. You know what she's after, her intentions clear when she straddles your lap and presses her lips feather light against your neck.
"I like when you wear my clothes." You mutter. Your hands find her hips, sliding down her thighs.
She sighs at the touch, humming at your words as she continues trailing her lips across your skin.
"This shirt is mine now, actually."
You grin, raking your nails lightly across her thighs. You hear a soft sigh against your neck, where her lips still linger. It makes you shiver.
"That's a shame," you note. Your hands roam, grabbing a handful of her ass in one and sliding the other over her hip. "I like fucking you when you're wearing my clothes."
Her breath catches, and she sinks her teeth into your collarbone, pulling at the skin with her teeth. She knows it makes you weak.
"But I suppose it'll do."
She groans against you when you grip her hip tighter, running your thumb over the bone and attempting to pull her closer yet.
"I was thinking about you in the shower," she murmurs. "I can't get you out of my head."
"Is that so?" You chuckle, grinning. "What exactly were you thinking of in there?"
Her hips are at your neck again, but firmer this time. Your skin's on fire. You might know very well how to make her weak, but you know it goes both ways. Her lips are hot, mouth wet, hips moving on top of you where she's seated. Fuck. You can't get enough of her.
Nat's moving up your neck, to your ear where she nips gently at it and whispers, "how badly I want your fingers in me."
Fuck.
You tangle your fingers through her hair, pulling her back gently for her to look at you. "They feel so good. I love the way I feel so full when you're inside me like that."
Releasing a low hum of appreciation, you attach your lips to her neck, biting softly until she emits that beautiful, soft whine you're used to when you find the spot that makes her tick. She isn't about to dance around and play games tonight, no, she's telling you what she wants and you'd be downright stupid to deny it from her.
"So is it a coincidence that it's one of my favourite things?" One hand remains in her hair, the other at her hip still, but this time encouraging her movements in your lap. "I just love how wet you get for me."
You litter kisses across her jaw.
"How you grab at my wrist when I've got my fingers in you. It's how I know you never want me to stop."
She moans. Soft. Your favourite sound. You know you're already driving her crazy and you couldn't be happier about it.
Your trail kisses up to her ear, lowering your voice to a whisper. "How hard it is for me to move when you're about to come around my fingers."
Natasha closes her eyes, clenching around nothing. God, she needs them. Desperately. She knows it, and she knows you know it. Both of her hands rest on either side of your neck, holding herself. Your voice, the eye contact, it makes her knees weak.
She rests her forehead against yours, breathing louder than she'd want to when the hand on her hip glides across her inner thigh. It's inching higher, and even though neither of you can count the amount of times you'd done this, the suspense is killing her. It somehow, always feels like the first time.
You kiss her hard. It's laced with want, need, love, passion, everything that makes her heart soar and a fire light in her stomach. She knows she's already embarrassingly wet, she has been since jumping out of the shower. But now, with your voice in her ear and your hands everywhere, Natasha knows she's a mess. She can feel it.
You can too, even without touching her between her legs yet. Your fingers rest at the top of her inner thigh, but you can feel the heat from her still. And as much as you love teasing her, hearing her pleas and begs, you want her. There's an overwhelming urge to just give her everything, so you do.
Your fingers graze her clit and her hips buck in surprise. She's so sensitive it's driving your crazy. She can't keep herself still. As soon as you make contact, she's rotating her hips for pressure from your fingers.
"God, fuck, that feels so good." She whimpers, pressing her lips to yours again. It's hungry, desperate and all-consuming. She needs you, and you know it.
She rests her forehead against your shoulder while you make slow, lazy circles across her clit. God, she's wet. You gather slick with your fingers and she groans when you meet her clit again. She's more and more sensitive by the minute, and the debate in your head of keeping her waiting or just giving her what she wants is a constant battle.
Her lips against your ear again, this time already breathless at the heat between the two of you that's come seemingly from nowhere. An hour ago you were playing a board game quietly, laughing to each other while some movie played in the background that neither of you were paying any attention to. Yet now, she was sat on top of you, cunt leaking and silently begging you to take her.
What makes you break though, is the one thing she knows full well makes you the weakest.
A final, soft bite at your ear lobe, and with her voice low, thick with arousal. "Please, baby."
Your eyes close, thighs clenching. Your other hand finds her hip, pulling her tight against your body. The fingers across her clit stop, but almost no time passes before you slip two of them inside her.
The moan in your ear is everything to you. It's pleasure, fireworks, lustful. Filthy.
Being inside her is like nothing else, especially when she clenches to get you deeper, keeping you inside because as she said herself, it's her favourite thing. You think it's yours too. Except of course, her whimpers directly in your ear, but they go hand in hand usually.
"Yes, yes, just like that."
You pull her to face you again, demanding eye contact while your fingers hit just where she needs them. Her hips move in rhythm, and fuck she doesn't know how it's always so unbelievably perfect feeling you inside her, your fingers curling, or thrusting languidly.
Her pupils are blown, and she smirks when she sees yours. She knows she's making you crazy.
"You're such a wreck, pretty girl, is this what you've been thinking about?"
She nods quickly, a god, yes, falling from her lips in a whine to answer you verbally.
"Touch yourself for me."
She smirks again, freeing a hand from your neck and trailing it down her stomach to her own clit. The moan is exquisite, and you're certain now you've ruined your own underwear. You can feel the wetness pool and your clit throb at the sight in front of you. Your stomach drops.
Natasha looks radiant like this, moving on two of your fingers and rubbing gentle, languid circles across her own clit. Your fingers curl and she throws her head back, neck exposed to you. You take the opportunity to attach to that spot again, suckling softly and grazing your teeth across it. You want to leave a mark, it's her favourite place and you both know it.
It makes her whimpers louder than before. It's all so good, every part of it. She can't get enough, and neither can you.
You fuck into her with your fingers, feeling the soft, spongy area that makes her collapse into you when you crook your digits. She's loud now, you know she's close already. You speed up your movements and she grips hard at the back of your neck with her free hand.
The movements across her clit are faster now, and you're in awe watching her make herself come for you. She can't wait any longer, that's obvious, but it's still as though she's waiting for permission.
"You gonna make yourself come for me, baby, hm? You gonna come around my fingers for me?" Your voice is low, laced with desire. God, she's yearning for it, her fingers moving faster. She's clenching around you, so hard you can barely move, just like you love to feel.
"Fuck, yes," she sobs. "I'm gonna come for you. Fuck-"
You feel it. Her body stiffens, mouth agape in silence, eyes still locked with yours until they roll back and her hips snap.
"Okay, baby, okay." You soothe her softly, the grip on her hip loosening and the fingers between her legs slow, guiding her back to reality. "I've got you."
She breathes heavy against your neck where she's collapsed against you. Her hips have slowed. Her quiet moans through her breathing are still there, though, because despite everything you're still inside her, and she's not about to forget that quickly.
"I came so fucking hard," she breathes, chest heaving. "I-christ."
"Mmhmm." You move your fingers slightly, and her hips jump against your hand. She's beautifully sensitive. "I know you did, sweetheart, I had a front row seat."
She laughs softly, moving finally. She brings her lips to yours, kissing your deep, slow. Her tongue brushes yours and you moan quietly against her lips. "Think you can handle an encore?"
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randomgirl-07 · 3 months ago
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The Filming Set
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Pairing: Nijiro Murakami x (female) Reader
Warnings: Stable relationship; Kissing (some sexual tension, maybe).  
Summary: Visiting your boyfriend’s shooting set for the first time is a new experience - one that makes Nijiro incredibly happy. 
Comment and reblogs are very much appreciated, as well as feedback. Keep in mind that minors are not welcome in this blog. Thank you and enjoy! :)
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“You came.” 
There’s a mixture of relief and satisfaction coating the words that come out from Nijiro’s lips and you can’t avoid smiling as he looks at you. 
“I told you I was coming, didn’t I?” you amusedly reply, bowing your head to the staff members that pass by you. 
Nijiro contemplates you, eyes focused on your face for a long moment as if doubting you’re actually there, before he chuckles. 
“Yeah, but I didn’t think you meant it. I know you’re not the biggest fan of loud commotions and the shooting sets tend to be exactly like that.” he explains, inching closer to you and catches your hand with his, intertwining your fingers together.
“Thanks for coming. Means a lot to me.” 
Your breath catches in your throat as he stands right in front of you, so close that you can see the gentle expression lines of his face, the way his dark eyes squint as he smiles, the soft shadow of his morning-shaved beard…
Something soft and warm twirls inside you when his hooded eyes land on your lips for a brief moment before one of the staff interrupts your moment, bursting your small intimate bubble you traveled to for a few moments.
Nijiro replies to the man, saying something in Japanese that you don’t quite understand yet and then he turns towards you, with a genuine smile that almost makes you fall in love with him again. 
“So, ready for your personalized set tour?” 
Time flies away too quickly and before you even realize, half-an-hour has gone by - spent with Nijiro dragging you to every single corner of the filming set, introducing you to his co-actors and staff and explaining every detail of the filming process, even if you don’t really understand much of it.
Your cheeks hurt from smiling at everyone and your rusty Japanese gets worse each time you speak to the staff, but in the end it’s still nice to spend time with Nijiro, and to watch him being so passionate about filming makes it worth it. 
At last, Nijiro leads you to the trailers area - where the actors get ready and wait for their scenes to be filmed.
He opens the door of his private trailer for you, allowing you to step in before him. You finally breathe as the four walls block out the loud noises and voices from the set. 
Your boyfriend reaches out a moment later, hugging you from behind, lacing his arms around your waist before burying his face on your shoulder blade.
He inhales deeply, snuggling impossibly closer. Your body relaxes, melting away at his touch. 
“It was really nice having you here today. Maybe now you’ll come more often. Make all the guys jealous of my girlfriend.” he teases you and you laugh, feeling him smile against your skin. 
“Hum, maybe I will.” you turn your face around, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Maybe I’ll come so often you’ll get sick of seeing me.” 
His response comes fast. 
“I would never get sick of you. Trust me.” Nijiro immediately assures you, twisting your bodies so you can face each other, still laced together.
He tilts his head down, forehead resting against yours and butterflies erupt inside you, flying and dancing wildly in your stomach.
“Would you get tired of me?” he asks in return.
You shake your head, the answer already sitting on the tip of your tongue. 
“Never.” you whisper. Nijiro’s gaze softens, eyes tracing the shape of your lips. 
“Perfect.” his voice comes out raspier than usual. He leans closer until your noses bump into each other and your breath catches. “That’s good, it means we’re on the same page and …” 
His words slowly derail as he closes the gap between you, lips finally connecting in a gentle sweet kiss. 
Maybe no words are really needed to express your love.
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angel-writes-skz-here · 25 days ago
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Cape Cod Cosmopolitan
Sub! Jeongin x Fem Dom! Reader Synopsis: A fun night at the movies Warnings: SMUT fingering, oral (m rec.), dirty talk, names (good boy, mistress), teasing, public sex, i think that's it. A/N: I hope you all enjoy my first I.N fic! Thank you again @breakmeoff for asking me to join your event! Check out the menu linked below Larie's Libations - Cape Cod Cosmopolitan [Vodka]- I.N [Cranberry Juice]- Movie Theater [Citrus Rind]- Kinks (Fem Dom) Please don't forget to tip your servers and let us know if we can get you anything else🍸
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The lights go down in the theatre, the action movie you and your husband, Jeongin had decided to see was supposed to be really good, the only problem was, he looked way too good in the outfit he’d chosen for your date night. The trailers begin, your leg bouncing impatiently. You’re sitting in the back row right by the right set of stairs, alone in your row, others scattered about in the rows below you. The movie starts to play, the sound reverberating through your chest.
It's loud enough to drown out any noise that either of you could possibly make. As the movie begins your eyes flit to Jeongin multiple times, his eyes focused on the screen, completely unaware of the desires churning in your mind.
Your hand finds it’s way to his knee, I.N’s eyes snapping to you without turning his head. You suck your bottom lip between your teeth as you let it rest there, trying to focus your eyes to the screen as well.
Thank God for a dark movie theatre.
Slowly your hand slides up his thigh, you feel him shift under you, fingers slowly inching over him. You peek over at him, his eyes are closed, lips pursed. You smirk to yourself, hand gently rubbing over his half hard erection.
You chuckle to yourself, even after two years of marriage you still had such an effect over him.
Teasingly, you grip him, causing his eyes to pop open and he jumps in his seat shifting his hips. You quirk a brow at him, taking your hand away and putting it back in your lap, a teasing smirk present on your lips. You focus on the explosion that erupts on screen, feeling I.N’s eyes burning holes into the side of your head. You hold your composure, feeling his hand creep on to your thigh.
You simply take his hand and put it back in his lap, sitting up slightly leaning over the arm rest.
You bring your lips to his ear.
“No. Touching.” You warn. And from the light of the screen you notice his Adam’s apple bob in his throat.
“Nod if you understand me,” you say lowly. He nods his head slowly, fingers twitching in his lap. You plant a kiss just below his ear, his breath hitching in his throat.
“Good boy,” you mumble in his ears, your hand finding it’s way back to his clothed cock.
He shifts under you, hips light grinding, desperate. You chuckle in his ear at his eagerness.
Your fingers fumble with his belt, your hand reaching underneath to grasp him, his head lulls back, eyes closed.
“Watch the movie,” you instruct and he huffs looking forward as your hand starts to move.
“Be a good boy and you can touch me when we get home, ok?”
He whimpers as he nods. You smile, languidly stroking him, in no rush or hurry. After a while, Jeongin’s body starts to try to move, to find more friction. Your hand stops, and he looks to you again.
You smile innocently.
“Words, baby boy. Use your words.” You tease. You turn your ear to him, waiting for the words to be uttered in your ear.
“More, harder, please,” he begs, voice broken and all ready wrecked.
“More what?”
“More pressure, please Mistress.” He whimpers. Your eyes close, lip between your teeth as your thighs squeeze together.
You grip his base harder, a moan escaping him.
“Thank you,” he breathes as his head lulls back again. You kiss his neck, teeth moving to his ear lobe, gently bitting and tugging it. You pull back, moving your hand faster, and as you pull back Jeongin captures your lips for a deep kiss. When he pulls back his eyes are wide.
“I’m-I’m sorry I know you said no touching.” You kiss his lips again, gripping him like a vice, just barely enough to cause slight discomfort mixing with the pleasure.
“Yes I did.” You mumble against his lips as he twitches in your hand.
“I’m gonna cum,” he whimpers as he grips the arm rests. Your hand stops immediately.
“Y/n what the hell?” He whisper yells.
“I said no touching.” You say simply as you sit back in your seat.
“I’m sorry, I got caught up in the moment, please,” he whimpers desperately in your ear, a sound that causes your walls to clench around nothing.
“You’re sorry?” you whisper to him as you quirk a brow.
“Yes,” he breathes.
“Prove it,” you whisper with a smirk. He watches as you slightly lift your skirt up, opening your legs.
“You wanted to touch me so bad, go ahead.” Your smirk.
 His hand moves hesitantly between your thigh’s fingers ghosting over your bare core.
“You didn’t wear,” he looks surprised.
“No talking, just do.” You demand and he shuts his mouth, sits back in his seat and his fingers work over your core, already damp with arousal. You close your eyes, his fingers rubbing tight circles. Your hips shift, grinding against his hand.
You try to keep quiet, but can’t stop the moan that escapes your lips, putting a small smile on I.N’s face.
“Keep going,” you whisper in his ear, resting your head on his shoulder as, mouth down against it to muffle your noises. His finger dips into your core, curling to hit the sweet spot just inside your entrance.
You fist his shirt, grounding yourself as your hips rock.
“Fuck, keep going, be a good boy and keep going,” your whisper before attaching you lips to his neck.
“Yes Mistress,” he answers and your walls clamp down on his fingers.
 He adds a second finger, pumping quicker and the explosion on the screen matches the explosion of heat in your body. Jeongin pumps his fingers as you come down from your high, helping you through it.
“Such a good boy,” you moan in his ear. He removes his fingers, and he sucks one dry, but you grab his hand and suck the other clean making eye contact with him as you taste yourself. You slip out of your chair, settling down on your knees. Jeongin looks at you like you’ve lost your mind.
He watches you closely, as you free him just barely form his pants, wrapping your mouth around his head. He hisses in response, hand going to the top of your head as you peer up at him through your lashes. His eyes flutter closed, your teeth ever so lightly scrapping against his flesh.
His eyes snap open, understanding you want him to look at you. His eyes briefly scan the theatre for any onlookers but finds none. Everyone is paying attention to the movie. You hollow out your cheeks, bringing your nose to his pelvis.
Jeongin can taste metal, by how hard he’s biting his lip to keep quiet. His hips begin to lift from the seat, and you can feel him twitch in your mouth. You allow him to use your mouth, breathing heavily through your nose, as he presses your head down gently. You swirl your tongue around his head when you come back up, tasting the salty precum on your tongue.
“Fuck, I’m gonna,” he moans quietly before lurching forward, his hands gripping your hair to ground himself, his load shooting in the back of your throat as he whimpers into your hair. You swallow every bit, slowly removing your mouth from his cock, helping him get himself situated. You kiss his lips once you sit back in the seat. But as you sit, he gets up.
“What are you doing?”
“Fuck the movie,” he mumbles and pulls you up out of your seat. He leads you down to the steps like a true gentleman before pulling you out of the theatre like a teenage boy, you giggling behind him.
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