#when it really sinks in and he knows he's in love (the dance)
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Date night w/ Dr. Kemp where he lets reader pick a song and she rickrolls him?
(I know this is so stupid but I can’t get the idea out of my head)
Date Night » Steve Kemp
Pairings: Steve Kemp x Female Reader
Summary: It’s date night for you and Steve.
Warnings: Fluff, language, kissing, pet names
A/N: Thank you to the lovely anonymous person who requested this🩵
Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.
Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier
GIF IS NOT MINE! Gif credit goes to the creator.
Date nights have been a regular thing for you and Steve lately. Date nights are Friday nights or Saturday nights. He always gives you two different options of dresses for you to pick out and wear. Since you’re in your room in the basement most of the time, Steve trusts you enough to take you upstairs to one of the bedrooms for you to take a shower and to get dressed. He stays in the bedroom when you’re getting ready in the bathroom, just to make sure you don’t try anything or attempt to escape.
“Are you ready?” Steve asks from the bedroom.
“Almost.” You answered.
Steve felt himself getting impatient, not in a bad way. He was curious to know what dress you chose and what you look like in it. He really does admire your beauty.
You looked in the mirror above the sink counter. You smoothed your hands over your dress and took a deep breath. For some reason, you’re always nervous when it comes to date night. You’re not sure what it is. Maybe it’s just your nerves or something.
You turned to the bathroom door and put your hand on the door knob. You took another deep breath before opening the door. Steve looked up from his phone when you walked out of the bathroom. He was immediately stunned by your beauty. He stood up and walked over to you. You looked up at him when he gently cupped your cheek, caressing it and rubbing his thumb against your skin.
“You look absolutely stunning, sweetheart.” Steve almost whispers.
“Thank you, Steve.” You blushed. “The other girls are probably prettier than me.” You say, looking down and fiddling with your fingers.
Steve tilted your head up so you were looking him in the eye.
“You’re way prettier than the other girls.” He says.
A smile grew on your face. Steve leans down and kissed you passionately. You melted into his touch like you always do. He then leans his forehead against yours, looking in your eyes.
“Let’s get the night started.” He says softly.
Steve held his hand out for you to hold, which you did. You held his hand as the two of you made your way downstairs.
“Wait here, sweetheart.” He says softly.
You nodded and sat down on the couch. You looked around the living room, admiring the decor Steve has. One of your legs bounced as you patiently waited for Steve. He came back in the living room a moment later with two wine glasses filled with a red wine.
“Here you go, honey.” Steve says, handing you one of the wine glasses.
You smiled and thanked him. Steve sat down next to you. For some reason, you felt nervous. You’ve never been nervous around Steve. Except when he put you in his basement after your first night with him.
“I’m sorry for being so nervous.” You apologized. “I’ve always been nervous when I go on dates.” You tell him.
“You don’t have to apologize for being nervous, sweetheart.” Steve’s hand gently caressed your cheek, his thumb rubbing against your cheekbone. “It’s just me.” He reminds you.
You couldn’t help but smile and blush. Steve’s words always made you do that.
“I have an idea.” He put yours and his wine glasses on the coffee table in front of the couch. “Let’s dance.” He says, standing up and holding his hand out for you.
You put your hand in his and stood up. Steve let you to where he keeps his music player.
“Pick any song you like, honey.” He says.
You bit your bottom lip with the look of curiosity on your face as you looked at the selection of music he has. Steve waited patiently and watched you look for a song. After a short moment you finally found one. You put the CD in the music player and pressed play. You looked up at Steve as the song started to play. He had the look of approval on his face.
You and Steve moved to the music as the beat of the song was building up to the good part. That’s when you had a boost of confidence. An idea also popped into your head. You waited till the good part of the song to do it. When the good part came, you did a rickroll move. Steve couldn’t help but laugh. Not in a way of making fun of you. In a way of finding it cute.
“What-” He laughed. “What was that?” Steve asks.
“Rickroll.” You answered. “I did it all the time when I was a teenager.” You said.
You did it again, making him laugh. Steve put his hands on your waist. You and him moved to the music together.
“You always find ways to amaze me, don’t you, sweetheart?” He says.
All you did was smile as you looked up at him. You stood on your tippy toes and gave him a kiss on his lips.
“You’re not the only one who has the moves, Dr. Kemp.” You say in almost a whisper, your lips ghosting over his lips.
“I have a lot more moves that you think, darling.” He says with a smirk.
“Oh yea?” You grinned. “Show me what you got, doctor.” You challenged him.
“Oh I will, sweetheart.” He says, accepting the challenge.
🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺
-Bucky’s Doll
#steve kemp#fresh movie#fresh 2022#sebastian stan#sebby stan#seb stan#sebastian stan characters#steve kemp x female reader#steve kemp x reader#steve kemp x y/n#steve kemp x you#steve kemp fluff#steve kemp one shot#steve kemp imagine#steve kemp drabble
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Little Heaven
Synopsis. He’s just your friend-with-benefits, right? So why - in the still haze of the soft sheets and you, fúcking you so sensual and tenderly - does he feel like he’s found his own personal heaven?
Pairing. Multiple x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, unprotected, kinda fluffy, he’s both pússydrunk and in love, slow to rough, marking, mentions of marriage and kids, morning, swearing.
Word count. 1.3k
A/N. Probably the fluffiest smút I’ve ever written.
You were just his friend-with-benefits, right? No strings attached, right?
So why was he here? Sinking into your plush mattress, quiet morning sun just barely peeking in through the curtains as he wraps his arms around your naked figure.
God, he really shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t be laying you on your side, drinking in your soft little, “G’mornin’.” Both of your movements languid and still burning with soreness. Your hips pushing back desperately into his as he positions himself so that his leaking tip was just kissing your swollen folds.
He shouldn’t be whispering soft kisses into the marks that littered your skin. Licking one, long stripe up the sinful trail of hickies down your neck. All sensual touches where it was bruising grips last night.
That was rule #1, right? No marks.
Or was it #4…
Ah, right now he couldn’t give less of a fuck. Not when his greedy eyes wander the expanse of your face, fingers trailing along the features he’s mapped a thousand times over. Tracing delicate patterns across your skin, snaking down, down, down to leisurely lift your leg a little higher.
Bare chest warm against your back, his voice is low and gravelly in your ear as he whispers, “I had a dream y’know.”
Mind still thinly veiled with sleep, you lean into his warm touch, “Mhm?”
Your breath hitches at the way he drags his swollen head teasingly across your slit, pooling your slick on his achingly hard tip. Smearing your juices with his thumb as he pumps himself lazily. It’s so torturously good. You almost miss the way he buries his face into the crook of your neck, murmuring a soft “Had a dream of us.”
Oh?
Before you can overthink his words, he’s nudging in gently. So agonizingly gentle. And you can do nothing more than let out barely-audible whispers of his name as he bullies his throbbing cock into your snug cunt.
You feel so full. So drunk off of the delicious burn of your pussy and him.
And it seems he was drunk on you just as much, because as soon as his hips are flush against yours, the words escape him. So quiet and groggy with sleep, that you almost don’t catch them.
“Had a dream that I made you my beautiful bride.”
Oh.
That was new. His words hung heavy in the heady air.
Shivers run down your spine - all the way to where he was buried in your dripping cunt. Your voice is slightly shaky as you let out a humorless laugh, “Oh yeah? Must’ve been a nightmare then.”
Soft lips press against your forehead, breathing in your scent. Absolutely searing as he mutters out a muffled, “No, was the best dream I ever had.”
And then, with the audacity of someone who didn’t just send your mind reeling, he pulls his hips back unhurriedly. Immediately fucking into you at a slow, sensual pace. Tip kissing your cervix as he rolls his hips languidly into yours, making sure you feel every bump and graze against your tight walls.
You don’t know what’s more maddening - his agonizing pace or the words that tumble out of his lips. “Y’looked so beautiful in white. So pretty walking down the aisle to me.”
His lips brush against yours, hands dancing across every inch of you he could reach. Gently caressing the skin like it’s something divine, soothing over the marks from last night as if an apology. “Don’ think I’d want to see anyone else there.”
You glance back at him - only to find his eyes already on you. A jolt of electricity runs across your skin at the pure warmth in them. And you realize that, no, this wasn’t a joke.
Not trusting yourself to speak, you simply grind your hips down to meet his, abs rubbing against your ass. Letting out a broken whimper of what sounds like his name as he moves down a hand to press rough, little circles over and over your throbbing clit.
“Saw a little something else too.” he hums, a sly smile curling his lips as his other hand dances across your body to press down on your stomach. Hard. “Saw that I had some competition - two actually. Funny, right?”
“Hah- h-hilarious.” you manage to choke out as his thumb speeds up on your clit, hips moving a bit more purposefully. A bit more like you were used to. Rock-hard cock plunging into your quivering cunt in deliberate, sloppy thrusts that have you white-knuckling the sheets.
“Though…” he trails off dangerously, pulling back all the way until his furiously hard tip was just kissing your waiting hole. “I wouldn’t really mind.”
And with that he’s sheathing his throbbing erection in your wet pussy completely. A gasp of delight leaves him at the way you take him so readily. Walls sucking him up so sinfully - perfect. You were always so perfect for him.
“Dreamt we had a lil’ house with a big garden.” God, he can feel his cock harden so painfully at the fucked-out little ah! ah! ah! leaving your pretty lips each time his hip smack into yours. It’s music to his ears, such a shame he just can’t shut the fuck up right now. “And then you dressed the kids up while I made breakfast.”
“Then you made us do taxes and I didn’t even fucking mind.” His voice is strained now, words slurring together as he rams his cock deeper and deeper, glistening with your slick in the soft morning glow.
“And finally at night, I say we should make a third one.”
He looks at you, a sly grin stretching his lips, eyes half-lidded and a dangerous twinkle in them that has you wondering whether everything he said before was merely a ruse to fuck you silly. And it probably shows on your face - because he grins lowly in your ear, “Don’t worry, sweetheart, we have till our wedding night f’me to fuck you slow.”
And oh he almost feels guilty. But he can’t bring himself to slow down at the way your swollen lips drop into such a pretty oh! at his words. Mewling at the sting of his heavy balls as they smack your ass. Walls clamping down desperately on his dick, milking him for every drop of pleasure. Each thrust into your warm core has his eyes rolling to the back of his head, brows furrowing in ecstasy as he focuses on making you lose your mind.
He shifts his angle slightly, grinding expertly against your g-spot just right, and you throw your head back, releasing a low moan of his name.
“Shit. Yeah, say m’name, sweetheart. Jus’ like that.” he moans breathlessly.
His name - soon to be yours.
Maybe.
You turn your head to face him, eyes fiery as you capture his in an equally scorching kiss. Cock slamming into your poor, abused cunt with an intensity that matches that of your lips.
Probably.
Biting down on his lower lips, soft yet insistent. Humming deliriously against his mouth - and in the heat of it all, he feels you smile against his lips. Ever-so-slightly.
Definitely.
And then you’re cumming. White-hot pleasure behind your eyes, walls clamping down so deliciously around his twitching cock. It sends him over the edge as well - whispering your name as if a prayer, voice hoarse with emotions neither of you could name at this very moment.
Hot ropes of his thick cum paint your trembling cunt white, milking the soul out of him as you both ride out your climaxes together. A creamy ring forming around his base as some truly animalistic part of himself fucks his seed into you - a promise, he likes to think.
“I’m serious about the dream.”
Almost as gentle as that one.
As the haze settles, his thrusts slowing down to just shallow grinds, a fragile silence envelopes the room as neither of you speak. Because maybe no other words were needed.
And right now, morning sunlight harsh on his skin, strong arms pulling you warm body flush against his, no one but you two in this quiet world - he doesn’t think he’d like to be anywhere else.
All is well in your little heaven.
- GOJO, GETO, Choso, SUNA, ATSUMU, Tsukishima, Kuroo, EREN
A/N. Bro it took longer to think of what to write than to write this.
Plagiarism not authorized.
#jjk x reader#jjk smut#aot x reader#aot smut#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu smut#gojo x reader#gojo smut#choso x reader#choso smut#geto x reader#geto smut#tsukishima x reader#kuroo x reader#suna x reader#atsumu x reader#eren x reader#suna smut#kuroo smut#tonywrites#eren smut#atsumu smut#tsukishima smut
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how you talk so sweet when you’re doing bad things | s.r.
A/N: this is literally prn with no plot i’m sorry. i just really love thinking about spencer on his knees sue me! this was supposed to be longer but then i decided to save it for when i write for juno heheh
cw: smut 18+ minors dni, softdom!spencer AND munch!spencer look at that a 2-for-1!, fingering fem receiving, brief condescending!spence if you blink, many many pet names, spencer says good girl that’s a warning on its own, afab!reader
summary: you and spencer come home from a night out and he knows exactly what to say to get you wrapped around his finger (literally!)
wc: 1.4k
_______________________________________________
You stumble through the door with Spencer trailing not too far behind you. You’d both been out with the team getting drinks and as the night progressed Spencer found himself getting especially touchy with you, so much that you could still feel the imprint of his hand on your inner thigh.
The drinks of the night had long faded leaving you in a haze as you both entered your apartment, Spencer’s solid frame coming up behind you to hold your waist.
“Good thing I’m here to make sure you don’t fall.” He chuckles softly.
He slowly turns you around and gently pushes you against the wall. You give him a lazy smile as your hand reaches up to trace the outline of his jaw, “You’re pretty.”
“If I’m pretty, what does that make you?”
“Lucky.”
Spencer blushes and smiles softly, “That was good,” He bends down to press a kiss to the spot behind your ear, slowly trailing down to the sweet spot at the base of your neck. His fingers press into the sides of your hips, “You okay? Still feeling it?”
You shake your head no pointedly, “Just fuzzy.”
“Fuzzy is good,” He nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck, “You’re nicer when you’re fuzzy.”
“I’m nice all the time!” You feign offense.
He chuckles back, “Okay, you are nice all the time. I think I meant more…compliant.”
You grin up at him, “What, you don’t like me in control?”
“No I do, trust me, I do. But, you deserve to be taken care of. And I really like it when I get to take care of you. It’s easier for me to do that when you’re all…fuzzy.”
Another lazy smiles adorns you and Spencer can’t help but lean in and kiss your nose.
“Well, we aren’t doing anything until these devil shoes come off.” You mutter softly.
Spencer laughs and kisses you one last time before smoothing his hands down your side as he sinks to his knees, gesturing you to lift your foot up and perch it on his shoulder, allowing perfect access to your heel.
You lean back against the wall attempting to flatten your back to ease the aching of it. Through hooded eyes you look down to meet Spencer’s hazel ones staring right back at yours, as his fingers ghost over the straps of your heels.
“Feet hurt?” He asks as he presses the pads of his fingers into the flesh of your calf, gently massaging the skin as he works his way down the buckle of your heel.
“In these? Always.” You laugh back.
“Oh, poor baby.” He mumbles back with a pout, leaning forward to kiss the base of your ankle. Your eyes widen slightly in entice as you watch him leave kisses up your leg, hands following their path and caressing the skin it touches. He gently places your bare foot on the ground and picks up the other heeled one, placing it on his shoulder and repeating the same motions.
The intimacy of the moment strikes you as you watch his long fingers toy with the buckles and straps of your heels before sliding them off. Your hand subconsciously reaches for his hair and cards through it gently, pushing it away from his eyes.
“Hi.” you whisper.
He looks up to meet your gaze, “Hi, honey.”
“You look pretty down there.”
A chuckle escapes him, “Do I?”
You nod, “Are you going to stay down there or…?”
His fingers dance around your calves slowly inching upwards, “What do you want me to do?”
Humming softly at the touch, you lean your head back against the wall, “I want…whatever you want.”
Spencer laughs again, “See? My compliant, pretty girl.” His fingers reach the hem of your dress, slowly inching further up, “I think I’ll stay down here for a little bit…if that’s okay with you.”
“Yeah, that’s o—okay.” Your breath hitches as he toys with the outer edges of your panties. His fingers trace the outline out to in, just missing contact with where you want him.
You whine softly as he continues to evade the one spot you need him, squirming against the wall for any friction you can find. He lightly chastises you, “So needy…you’re acting like you haven’t been touched in weeks.”
“Spence…”
He hums, “But that’s not true, right?” One finger strokes the front of your panties, tracing a path from the wet patch up to your clothed clit.
“N—No.” You half moan.
His finger lays more pressure, “I take really good care of you, right angel?”
A curse slips from you as he strokes you over your panties.
Spencer smirks as he hooks his index fingers on either side of your panties and slowly starts to drag it down, not missing how the fabric sticks to your slick like honey. “You know why, I take such good care of you?”
You’re too caught up in the anticipation to respond, but that’s not enough for Spencer when he stops his motions and taps your leg, “I asked you a question.”
You look down at him and shake your head exasperatedly, hoping the silent answer was enough for him to continue since you’re nearly on the ledge from the way his hands are moving.
His finger trails back up your leg and ghosts over your exposed cunt, teasing you endlessly, “I take care of you…because you’re a good girl. Isn’t that right?”
“Spencer…please…” You’re not sure how much longer you can take this, your body squirming for any contact.
“Say it.” He pulls back so he can look you directly in the eyes, a single digit sliding through your folds.
“Jesus, fuck,” you let out breathlessly, “Okay, okay I’m a good girl, I’m your good girl, just please…” You can’t even bring yourself to care at how desperate you sound, you would start begging like a sinner in church if he didn’t do anything soon.
He smirks, “That’s my girl,” he taps your thigh, “Over my shoulder.” You quickly abide and raise your leg over his shoulder and rest your thigh on it. Spencer leans in and dives into your folds like a man starved, your hands moving to tangle in his hair and in an effort to stabilize yourself. His tongue motions like he’s making a painting and you definitely think you deserve to be hung in the Louvre after this.
You feel him add a finger in and you’re a goner.
“Spence…I’m—fuck oh my god, please don’t stop.” You whine.
His lips detach from you while he adds another fingers and continues his motions and he mumbles, “You gonna come for me, angel? Been like, what a few minutes and you’re already about to make a mess on my fingers…so needy.” he teases.
He returns back to your core, licking long and thick stripes up and down, his fingers not slowing down as he brings you closer to the edge. The peak begins to build in your gut and the climax overtakes you, a mixture of expletives and Spencer’s name leaving your mouth like a twisted spell.
You release your death grip on his hair as he sits back to catch his breath. You slump down the wall to sit in front of him, your leg still swung over his shoulder. He smiles fondly at you and holds the ankle next to his head, leaning in to press a kiss, “You okay, baby?”
“Mhm…” You hazily say, “Peachy, even.”
His eyes narrow slightly, “…Because they’re fuzzy?” you giggle and nod feeling super proud of your pun. He can’t help but laugh with endearment with you as he gently helps your leg off his shoulder and places it on the ground before standing up himself and reaching his hands out for you to grab it, “Let’s go to bed, I’m not done with you yet.”
You place your hands in his and allow him to pull you up, once you’re on your feet you register his words, “Wait, huh?”
He slowly spins you around so his chest is to your back and starts guiding you down the hallway, “Oh baby, did you think we were stopping at one?” he whispers sultrily in your ear. A shudder runs down your spine and he laughs feeling you shake in his arms.
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid smut#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid#criminal minds#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you#criminal minds fanfic#spencer reid criminal minds#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid x fem!reader smut
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eddie ‘monstercock’ munson, who is painfully unaware of the sheer size of his dick.
tw: sexual content 18+ minors dni, size kink, oral m receiving, piv sex, praise kink, dirty talk, general debauchery. for my love @raccoonboywrites
and, listen, you’re not a size queen at all. don’t care much for how big or small a cock is so long as whoever it’s attached to knows how to use it. but you gasp out loud once you get your fingers dig under eddie’s waistband, pulling the offending material down to let his length spring out.
it’s enough to shock you back into the room, watching as the thick weight of it slaps against eddie’s tummy, the way it curves into his navel. he’s wet, leaking at the head and matting down the pretty swirls of black hair that lead a trail down, down, down.
he’s rumpled against your bed frame, slumped down with his shirt rucked up his tummy. the prettiest pink flush spreading across his cheeks, tinging his ears and dipping as low as his collar. you’re willing to bet his chest is blotched with the lovely rosy colour, too. he grips aimlessly at your comforter, wide eyes watching your every move; tracing every hitch of your breath.
you wrap your hand around the base — purposely ignoring the pathetic little whine eddie makes, because jesus now isn’t the time to think too much about that — and you moan despite yourself when your hand doesn’t even wrap fully around the girth of it, dwarfing your fingers and palm.
“you— you’re so big, oh my god,” your voice catches at the end, desperate and dampened by your own desire for it. you lean forward, hot breath ghosting over him, tugging his foreskin back just enough for the head to pop out, shiny and reddening with need, “you could’ve at least warned me you were packing a python down there, fuck.”
“oh shit, really? i thought it was aver— holy fuck, you don’t have to—“ he’s bug eyed, eyebrows shooting under his fringe as you mouth at the head, determined and eager to get a taste of him. uncut, heavy on your tongue, the heady splash of precum blurting out to coat your tastebuds.
eddie’s knees kick up a little as you mouth greedily at his tip, pointing your tongue to run in circles around the glans on the underside. you smirk despite yourself, getting a kick out of it when eddie goes a little cross eyed, burying a ringed hand into your hair.
you indulge yourself, feeling the weight of him in your mouth as you sink lower, just far back enough as to not trigger your gag reflex. your lips wrapping around his hot flesh, suckling softly, reveling in each blurt of pearlescent release that drips onto your tongue.
“baby, sweetheart — fuck,” eddie gasps, breath shuddery, lightly pulling at your tresses to test the water. his mouth falling open into a quiet moan when your eyes flutter at the feeling, “y’can- y’can take more, right? s’not… s’not that big.”
your jaw cracks under what of him you’ve fit in, which truthfully isn’t much. despite your efforts, there’s still a good three inches of eddie’s cock left untouched by hand or mouth, and you really have to wonder if he’s that clueless of his size. you pull off with a wet pop, strings of saliva keeping you connected to him as you stare up with wet orbs.
“eddie, you’re huge.” your voice is wrecked, butterflies swirling in your tummy as you make eye contact with him once again. you flush under his debauched gaze, "i— shit. nobody's ever told you before?"
eddie shrugs, considers for a moment. you don't think he's aware of the fact he's holding you in place with his hand, gripping your hair just enough to keep you still, hovering over his dick just close enough that if he wanted to, he could push you back down, get your mouth back on him.
though, that’s clearly not what he wants. because, he’s slipping the hand from your hair, doing this kind of awkward dance as he lays you out where he wants you.
you end up on your back, thighs spread wide as eddie slots between them, mouthing hotly at your neck. his fingers graze along your flushed skin, dance on your hipbone, across your pelvis. dips those godforsaken fingers into your panties, carelessly fumbling over your sopping wet pussy.
“this is okay, right?”
“it’s all okay, eddie. anything you want.”
"not— not even touched you yet and you're already this wet?" eddie's voice is a low timbre against your skin, has you arching up into his touch with a soft little moan. he sounds shocked, no heat or teasing in his words.
"can't help it," you gasp, exhaling shakily when eddie swipes two fingers over your clit deftly, unable to hide his smile at how receptive you are, "feeling the size of you in my hand — my mouth, god. would've let you choke me with it, would've thanked you."
eddie buries his face into your cleavage, poorly concealing a choked whine. he's skillful with his fingers, working you over fast despite how much your words are clearly affecting him.
your hips rock in short little circles, fingers sinking into eddie's hair, tugging lightly at the nape of his neck. you whine, body set alight with the feeling of calloused fingers grazing the small bundle of nerves.
he's biting you, brandishing you with little blooming bruises, and with the noise he makes against your damp skin you'd think it was him getting touched like this, him hurtling towards the edge.
you're so wet that the slick noises of eddie's fingers on your pussy are deafening in your ears, causing your back to prickle with heat, tummy winding tight.
the hot, heavy flesh of his cock presses against your inner thigh, shocking loud moans from you both at the same time. you arch up into his touch, ears ringing as pleasure takes over your body.
"i— you're making me cum," you gasp breathily, a static feeling warming your body, eyes rolling into the back of your head. you grapple for eddie's hair once more, tugging with a ferocity as your release washes over you.
it's. something. you feel like you're fucking floating, and eddie keeps swirling his fingers perfectly, whispering little shocked praises and keening into your rough pulling as he wrings you out.
once eddie's sure you're done with the aftershocks of your orgasm, he hazards pushing two fingers into your soaked cunt, and you're practically shooting away with overstimulation. crying out, somehow swivelling your hips and pushing down onto his fingers further once the shock wears off.
"you're a shit," you gasp, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, "god, might've known your dick was gonna be big, fuckin' size of your fingers."
"was— was that good for you? can i, shit can i?" eddie's desperate, rutting the thick outline of his cock against your thigh. he's never stopped fucking leaking, soaking your leg in milky precum and allowing the slip and slide to feel good.
you nod, shaky hands tilting his head up so you can finally, finally, get your mouth on his. eddie's whole body presses flush against yours, his hand coming out to stabilise himself so he doesn't crush you, and fuck.
it's so charged, like he can't stilt his emotions as he snakes his tongue into your mouth, lapping at your own wetly. it's probably disgusting, doesn't feel like it though — you'd swallow his spit happily, whenever he wanted, if it meant he kept making you feel like this.
eddie's shaky hand fumbles for the base of his cock as you continue kissing, positioning himself so that he's nestled prettily between your legs. the kisses turn languid, and he almost sounds pained when he next speaks, "s-sorry. if it, if it hurts."
"let it hurt, i want it to," your demeanor falters a little, turning doe eyed and pleading as eddie slides the ruddy head of his cock up and down the seam of your cunt, flirts with the idea of pushing the tip in just to watch you gasp and keen.
"would never," eddie promises, finally — fucking, finally — pushing the first few inches into the sopping wet heat of your pussy. he cries out when you clench around him unwittingly, and you mumble out a small sorry as you adjust.
it's. not good. it's not bad, either, but fuck. you feel like you're being split from the inside, the thick tip pushing you wider than you anticipated. your fingers grapple for eddie's biceps, nails digging in tightly, "so fucking big, oh my god, you're gonna split me in half."
you're breathless and eddie catches on, panics a little, "you're okay? you're okay, right? i can sto—"
"if you stop, i swear to god," you seethe, looking at eddie with a fierce spark in your eyes, "keep going. fuck. keep going."
before long and with a little bit of resistance, eddie's buried deep inside of you. your bodies roll against one anothers, shallow, slow breaths
it starts slow, the catch and drag of eddie's cock shocking you both into silence. but, before long, your pussy catches up with the programme, gushing wet and allowing eddie to push in further with each thrust.
it's intimate, erotic.
"you're so tight," eddie all-out whimpers, head falling and shoulders shaking as he fucks you at a lazy pace, clearly trying his best to hold out for as long as he can.
"fuck, you’re so gentle,” you try, knees squeezing eddie’s narrow waist, thighs encapsulating him, “you can go quicker. not gonna break me.”
eddie shakes his head, almost like he’s bewildered. looks at you all fucking soft, clearly can’t help the rut of his hips as he buries in deep, biting his inner lips to muffle his noises.
you grasp a hold of eddie's hand with nimble fingers, guide his hand over the softness of your tummy, let him push down where his cock is buried deep inside of you. his whole body shudders, and you can feel where he kicks up.
"practically in my guts," you wheeze, unable to shake the full feeling despite how your pussy gushes for him, so full you swear you feel him in your throat with every deep thrust he can muster, "you're s-so big, eddie."
"oh— jesus, can't do shit like that. can't say shit like that," eddie grunts desperately, rutting into you and gripping for your waist tightly, other hand still pushed down on the pudge of your belly, "gonna make me cum so, so quick."
"can feel every ridge of you, you're splitting me apart," you keen, "i can't— god, you've ruined me f-for anyone else. yours, yours, m'yours."
eddie's forehead slumps against your own, and you're panting into each others mouths more than anything else, lips barely brushing, "mine, you're mine." he agrees, though he sounds pained and submissive as he says it.
your hand snakes around eddie's neck, holding him in place as he fucks you so desperately, so rough you're rattling the stupid bedframe, and you don't think you've ever felt anything like this before. it's all-consuming, the tug between sore and soul-crushingly sensual.
your second orgasm hits you like a freight train, the constant press against your spot causing a quicker build up than you could've anticipated. you both make eye contact as you come with a muted gasp, nails scraping harshly at the soft skin on eddie's neck as you rock it out.
"didn't think you could get any tighter, god," eddie whimpers, eyes squeezing shut, finger-shaped bruises sure to be left on your hips as he fucks you in some sort of reckless abandon, "fuck, i'm so close. i'm so sorry, fuck, fuck."
you nod, understanding, the wet clap of skin on skin deafening as your release allows an even smoother glide. he's fucking ethereal above you, covered in a light sheen of sweat, mouth open in a constant stream of steady moans.
you reach between where both of your bodies meet, where the final few inches don't quite fit, spreading your fingers either side of his cock to allow friction as he fucks in and out rapidly, chasing his high.
eddie looks at you with a wild expression, eyebrows shooting up into his fringe. he grunts like a fucking animal, eyes drifting down to where your hand is, "you— you— i'm cumming, holy fuck—!"
he's loud when he comes, full body wracked with it. you feel his cock pulse and kick inside of you, painting your insides deep. the moan you let out at the feeling is hardly voluntary, so pathetic you flush hot when you realise just how loud you are.
"thank you, thank you," eddie's mumbling against your skin, kissing the side of your neck softly as he comes down, "god, you're perfect. so perfect."
you shudder, overcome with this sappy fucking fond feeling, allowing eddie to collapse on top of you once he's done. it's soft, domestic, even.
you both end up in some sort of gross, body fluid covered cuddle as you calm down. blissed out in the post-orgasmic haze, and fuck.
maybe you're in love with him.
#eddie munson smut#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fic#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson blurb#eddie munson x you#eddie munson drabble#my fanfic#mine#x reader
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Fighting like vampires and dogs
Vampire x Fem!Reader x Werewolf
Bunni’s Monstertober Event
Oct 2nd
Oct 1
Oct 3
warnings: public sex, threesome, knotting, breeding, blood drinking, two ps in one v, possessive behavior
summary: You’ve been friends with the werewolf and vampire for a few years now, and they’re both head over heels in love with you… but they hate each other! It takes them saving you from a common enemy to realize sharing is caring…
🐺🦇🐺🦇🐺🦇🐺🦇🐺🦇🐺🦇🐺🦇🐺🦇🐺🦇
It wasn’t uncommon for your two friends to bicker over who got to spend time with you, but it was unusual for them to get so violent.
“I told you, this week she’s mine.” your werewolf friend sneered, bearing his canines as he stood on his haunches.
“And like I’ve said, I couldn’t give less of a shit about what a filthy mutt has to say. This week, she’s MINE!” your vampire friend retorted, hissing as his brown eyes turned red and his fangs extended, ready to sink into the wolf’s flesh.
“That’s enough!”
You smacked them both over the head, huffing. “You can both come with me to the club tonight! It’ll be fun, maybe you’ll even bond together.”
It wasn’t easy getting them to go out with you… ut the second you suggested going alone they were already picking out something to wear.
The two were protective, staying at your side and watching your short dress, making sure it didn’t ride up. Anyone that dared to look at you were emt with menacing glares and flashes of sharp teeth…
Despite them hovering over you constantly, all it took was a slight bump from the other to set them off.
“Fuck, don’t touch me, mutt. I’m only here for her, you should just leave.”
“Oh really? Why don’t I rip out your throat and show you how much a mutt I am?”
You attempted to stop them, but your pleas fell on deaf ears.
But after fighting for a bit, they were suddenly alerted to your cries for help. Even over the loud music and their own angry screams, they recognize recognize your scared voice.
“Angel?”
They made their way through the crowd, spotting you being cornered by a tall man. You were looking around frantically, relief spreading across your face when you spotted them.
Within seconds the man was torn away from you and stomped into the club’s floor. You chose to ignore the bloody remains, instead stepping over him and into your friends’ arms.
“Thank you…”
They realized then that no matter how much they hated each other, they loved you so much more. Your safety and happiness would always come first…
And that’s why they both grew hard against you, their hands traveling to your hips and thighs.
Soon you were back on the dance floor, squished between your two friends as they kissed you. The vampire bit down on your neck, drinking your blood as the werewolf rubbed his fat cock against your wert panties.
“W-what if they notice?”
They both nuzzled against you, the vampire dry humping against your fat ass.
“They won’t, the music is loud and everyone is focused on dancing.”
You yelped as your friend’s cock pushed into you, stretching out virgin hole. You were too wet to protest, knowing that after this night your relationship with your two best friends would be changed forever.
He tried his best not to knot you immediately. He had wanted this for so long, and all your werewolf friend wanted was to fill your belly was his cum and knock you up.
The vampire groaned, stroking his cock as he looked over your shoulder, watching the werewolf’s cock push in and out of you. Soon, you felt something else prodding at your hole, wanting access.
Two cocks were inside of you now, and you felt impossibly full. Maybe it was the blood loss, maybe it was love, but your heart was fluttering and so were your gummy walls.
You came around them, the werewolf quickly knotting you as they both came inside.
Both cocks were trapped inside of you, the vampire burying his face into your neck as his cock rubbed against the werewolf’s fat knot.
“Mmph… happy to see my boys getting along…”
Want a part 2? Send me a kofi and ask for it~
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NSFW TAGLIST: @sunset-214 @strawberrypoundtown @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @unforgettablewhvre @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @spicyspicyliving @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @binnieonabike @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @wil10wthetree @hammerhead96-blog @slightlyusedfloormat
#monstertober#cw breeding#vampire imagine#vampire x human#vampire smut#vampire boyfriend#vampire x reader x werewolf#werewolf x reader#werewolf imagine#monster fucker#monster lover#monster fudger#monster boyfriend#monster fic#chubby!reader#chubby reader#x reader#fem reader#fat reader#plus size reader#teratophillia#terat0philliac#teraphilia#terato#exophelia#monster fucking#monster oc#monster boy oc#monster bf#monster breeding
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Stay
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader
Word Count: 1,176
Summary: You and Bucky have been doing the flirty friends dance for a while now, the tension building but when nothing seems to progress any further you accept a date from another guy...
Author's Note: So I was just thinking about the hotness of dry humping and when you just have to find release in the moment and all that and I love the whole friends to lovers trope. There isn't a ton of back story here but it's the usual. Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰
Warnings: fluffy, softness, tension, dry humping, confessions lol
“Are you sure I didn’t wake you Bucky?”
He’s standing in the doorway of his apartment in nothing but sweatpants that hang low on his hips. His hair is mussed and falling over his forehead, and you can smell the soap on his skin.
You try to keep your eyes trained on his face.
“I’m sure,” he says as he takes your hand and leads you into his apartment. “I’ve been up for a while.”
He rubs the back of his neck and glances at you as you take off your jacket.
“So, are you going to tell me more about this date…that was over at what eight o’clock?” he asks teasingly.
“Maybe it was closer to nine,” you laugh.
“Doll,” he chides, still staring.
You groan and hang your jacket over the chair. “I just wasn’t…he wasn’t…”
Your words die off when you see the expression on his face. His eyes are wide, and his lips are slightly parted as his gaze moves slowly down your body.
“What?” you ask.
“What are you…did you walk all the way over here in that?”
You drop your head to look down at your clothing. “Oh.”
“I probably should have thought about that but I…I wanted to see you and…”
“It’s fine,” Bucky mumbles before he swallows hard and tries to focus on filling a glass of water.
“So…the date?” he asks, keeping his eyes on the sink.
“I guess I didn’t really want to be there. I had other things on my mind.”
“Like?” he counters.
“Likeeeeee…um.”
“Me?”
His one-word response comes out quietly and as more of a question and when his eyes meet yours they’re soft and shy and a little hopeful.
“Yeah,” you answer, looking down as you twist your hands in front of you.
“Well, in case you didn’t get the memo before, I wasn’t exactly having an easy time sleeping over here…or doing anything else for that matter.”
You look up again and meet his stare as he continues.
“I can’t concentrate on shit. Sam keeps giving me hell because I’m not focused.”
You laugh softly as you move closer. “I know exactly what you mean. I’m so wound up I can hardly sit still.”
“Yeah,” he agrees, running his hand over his hair with an exhale. “I hate that you went on a date with another guy tonight.”
“I hate it too. I don’t even know why I did,” you say quietly, inching closer. “All I kept thinking, is that I wanted it to be you.”
He closes the distance, his eyes searching every inch of your face. “I should have stopped you and told you…”
You wait for him to finish, knowing this is all new again for him.
“I don’t think... I’ve never been this distracted by anyone before,” he whispers.
You’re so close you can see the small patches of gray hairs that line his shadowed jaw and without thinking you lean in and brush your lips to his.
He sucks in a breath, and you feel him press his body against yours.
“I have no idea what we’re doing,” he admits. “But I do know that I don’t want anyone else to take you out…to kiss you…to have you.”
“Bucky…”
His name is a whispered plea, and he tilts his head and closes his eyes, moving just enough to kiss you softly.
“Tell me to stop,” he murmurs.
There is no way you could.
Instead, you reach up, slide your fingers along the back of his neck and press your lips more firmly to his.
And then he pushes forward, closer, lining up your bodies so that you can feel the hard shape of him against your stomach.
Your hand slides along his skin and you feel the solid strength of muscle in his back as he walks you backward until you fall gently onto the couch.
“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he whispers against your lips.
He pulls back just enough to meet your eyes and sweeps his thumb across your bottom lip.
“Me either,” you tell him, shifting until his length is pressed right between your legs.
He swears and dips back down to kiss you. Your hips roll and his face falls to your neck with a groan.
“Fuck that feels good,” he murmurs, moving with you.
The material of his sweatpants is thin and your sleep shorts even thinner and you can feel every inch of him.
Your hips press up from the couch and you give his hair a tug.
“That’s it doll,” he says. “Don’t stop.”
His mouth follows his hands everywhere and you grow more and more desperate, searching for friction as you rub against him repeatedly.
“Bucky,” you gasp.
He rocks his hips forward and against you, the perfect drag of heat and pressure just where you need it.
Your fingers twist into his hair and you feel yourself start to fall, closing your eyes as your release rushes through your body. You cry out his name and feel his hips move faster, his grip tight on your skin as he grunts into your neck when he comes.
He collapses against you, his breath warm on your skin before pushing up onto his elbows and looking down at you with a sweet, drowsy, and almost timid expression.
“Hey doll,” he says, his lips tilting into a lopsided smirk.
“Hiya Buck,” you whisper, running a hand over his hair.
“Doing that made me feel young again,” he chuckles. “Like a teenager.”
Your smile is bright as you trace the crinkle lines around his eyes. “I didn’t think that was possible.”
He feigns an appalled look and then brushes his nose to yours with a smirk.
“You just made me come in my pants. I have no control when it comes to you.”
“Is that a bad thing?” you ask with a soft smile.
“No,” he murmurs. “Definitely not.”
His large hand cradles your cheek, and he kisses your forehead, then your temple, his lips moving slowly along your skin until they meet the spot just below your ear.
“I…um…I don’t mean to run off,” he starts. “But I just want to clean up and change.”
Your teeth dig into your bottom lip, and you start to giggle, patting his back.
He kisses you softly once, then twice before he pushes himself up but then he pauses, hovering above you, and as if he can’t bear to leave you his body covers yours again and he kisses you with more urgency.
When he pulls away his breathing is heavy, and his eyes are hooded.
“I want to stay with you tonight Bucky,” you whisper.
He watches you for a moment, never breaking eye contact, waiting for you to change your mind.
You stare right back and wait for his answer.
“If you stay…” he starts.
You’re already nodding. “I know.”
“I’m not going to be able to have you in my bed and not…I might not be able to go slow.”
You pull him down for another kiss. “I know.”
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes imagine#bucky x reader#sebastian stan#sebastian stan x reader
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The Homemaker & Her Husband ☆ Nanami Kento
☆ WORD COUNT – 7.3k ☆ SYNOPSIS – You’ve been a good wife, really. Fulfilling your role as a homemaker and completing your responsibilities of cooking and cleaning for your overworked husband so that he can provide for his beloved missus. But what happens when one evening after preparing a feast for Nanami, he arrives late and now dinner is ruined… will you let him make it up to you? ☆ CONTENT WARNINGS – Nanami x fem!reader, shameless smut, married couple, traditional gender roles, creampie, impregnation, mentions of femininity, reader is a housewife
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★,。・:*: ☆。・:*:・゚
A sigh of contentment fell from your lips as you placed a warm pan of rolls on the table, completing the feast you’ve prepared for you and your husband. It was the final—and most crucial—piece of the divine spread you’ve spent the last three hours prepping and crafting. You closed your eyes before inhaling once, reveling in the aroma of your hard work. You could nearly drool at the heavenly combination of piquant and saccharine flavors, all beautifully arranged on a frilly, sage green tablecloth. You had it all; smothered pork chops on a bed of fluffy mashed potatoes, roasted cauliflower with tahini, homemade buttered rolls, and a New York style cheesecake with strawberry sauce dribbling down the sides.
There was no occasion. No rhyme or reason. There doesn’t need to be. Some days you just wanted to wear a smooth, satin slip dress, paired with the most beautiful diamonds and a gracious heart. Some days you just wanted to prepare a fulfilling meal for your husband to come home to after a long, tiring day at work. And some days you wish that just maybe, society would stop frowning upon the women that take pride in their love for their husband.
When did it become a crime to be comfortable in your divine femininity?
What is so god awful about wanting to be a caregiver? What if it’s divine intuition or fate? What if it’s just the way it ought to be? You aren’t sure, not really. All you know was that you enjoy taking care of the people you love, you always have. Maybe it’s the swell of your heart when he thanks you for taking care of the house while he’s away. Or the smile that mars his face when he comes home to a spotless kitchen and a carefully constructed supper as you prance to embrace him in a hug. Or it could even be the way he really thanks you when the night is said and done and he’s splitting you apart with his cock and fingers.
Soft, bossa nova jazz thrummed through the speakers of the radio that sat atop the fridge. You hummed to yourself as you swayed your hips. The window just above the sink sat open, soft linen curtains dancing in a duet with the wind. It was warm and it smelled of healthy grass and memories to be had. And oh how you missed him dearly, you could die.
You smiled to yourself as you dusted your hands on the front of your plaid apron before swiping your pager off the counter. With quick, nimble fingers, you began to message your husband, letting him know that the door is unlocked and you’ll be waiting for him at the table. He always knows when you’re making a special dinner for him because it’s he who does the grocery shopping, so it isn't ever truly a surprise. Nanami hates surprises anyway.
You undid the bow at the back of your apron before peeling it off and hanging it on its designated hook. With two hands, you smoothed the satin of your cream colored dress, the one that Nanami swore hugged your hips a little too tightly. You washed your hands before skipping upstairs with a girlish smile, the soft hum of bossa nova ebbing as you neared your shared bedroom.
Diligently, you touched up your frazzled hair and makeup. With swaying feet, you smiled in the mirror of your vanity, patting your cheeks with blush just the way he likes. Nanami loves when you doll yourself up for him. He loves the sweet, gourmand perfume you’d put directly behind your ears, the one he swears smells like raspberries and vanilla. He also loves the pretty, sheer lipgloss that adorned your lips, accentuating the dip of your cupid's bow. And oh how he loves when you’d saunter toward him in that bewitched dress with a soft smile playing your glossed lips.
You could hardly wait as you rushed back downstairs, plopping yourself into a chair at the dining table. Impatiently, you waited. With your elbows on the table and your chin resting in the palms of your hands, you eyed the food before you. You flitted your eyes between the front door and the hardwick clock on the counter. Any second now, you thought.
You could no longer hear the thrum of music, far too engrossed in the passage of time. The clock’s golden pendulum swung back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. And as time does, it went on. The pendulum continued to swing and time continued to pass and soon, seconds would turn into minutes and minutes into hours.
He’s late.
Now, you sat on the couch, your right knee bouncing restlessly as your arms sat crossed over your chest. You were upset, maybe even beyond it. Disappointed maybe. An irritated sigh fell from your lips. Slowly, you dragged your bare toes along the shag rug on the floor. It’s late and you’ve already paged Nanami four times in the last hour to no avail.
With a huff, you pushed yourself up from the couch before making your way to the kitchen. You began to clear the table of the room temperature food, angrily packing everything away into tupperwares. The sound of the front door opening then closing startled you, pausing your angered movements. The floorboards creaked with the familiar clomp of his leather penny loafers as he neared the kitchen.
“My love, I’m home. I’m so sorry I’m late.” He apologized as he emerged in the arched doorway of the kitchen while simultaneously slipping his suit jacket off his arms and hanging it from the coat rack.
You said nothing as you continued to clean the table, your shoulder cold as you ignored his presence.
Nanami sighed, “You cooked all this for me, baby?” His heart ached in his chest.
“What does it matter? It’s cold anyway.” You cut, your voice sharp and daggered.
Nanami nodded deservedly. Immediately, he sees your anger, acknowledges it, accepts it. He could almost feel the warmth of your seething rage. Warily, he stepped closer to you, his arms open in embrace, but you turned away, shuffling to the opposite end of the table to collect the remaining food.
“Baby,” He frowned, “forgive me. I stayed out late tonight to tie up some loose ends. Satoru called out and I lost track of time.” He explained.
Still, you scoffed.
“But I’m here now and this food looks delicious.” He commended, “Did you eat?”
“I paged you five fucking times. You could’ve called.” You huffed, ignoring his concern.
He dropped his head in shame. He truly was sorry and you knew it. Nanami is sincere. He’s genuine and unfeigned and candid, but he tends to throw himself at his work, muddling the line between it and home. You really can’t fault him for taking pride in what he does, but God, do you wish he’d find a healthy balance between the two.
“Baby, what can I do, hm?” He hummed, “To make it up to you?”
He followed you around the kitchen, his heavy footfalls not far behind. You could feel his warmth as he stood beside you and you could smell what’s left of the cologne he spritzed on his suit this morning. It was then that you finally looked up at him, silently registering his post-work mien. His tapered, blonde hair danced in every which way, loose strands adorning his forehead. His brows furrowed with remorse while his tired eyes pleaded for absolution, begging for your forgiveness like a sinner in church.
Slowly, he sank to his knees before you, his intense gaze never never faltering. You rolled your eyes in disbelief as you turned away. Nanami reached for your hand, pulling you back to him. Before you had the chance to pull away, Nanami dipped his head to plant a chaste kiss to the back of your hand before turning it over and kissing your palm. He continued, leaving several kisses along the expanse of your hand and wrist.
“Look baby, I’m on my knees for you.” He admitted. “I’m so, so sorry. I’ll do anything… you know I will.”
Nanami was releasing your hand to kiss your legs instead. He trailed sweet, fleeting kisses up and down your shins before gently bunching up the hem of your dress to expose your thighs. He kissed there too, humming and inhaling your scent as he wrapped his arms around the back of your knees, pulling you closer.
His heart ached with contrition as he begged for your pardon, so distraught by his foolishness. Frankly, Nanami yearned not only for you, but your approval as well. It was something he’d go to great lengths to obtain. What is he worthy of if not your mercy? Your validation?
“What is it you want?” He mumbled between kisses, determined to rectify his wrongdoing and put a smile on his pretty girl’s face.
You could feel the slam of your heart against your chest as you looked down at him, his pleading eyes beckoning you to relinquish your anger and find reprieve in him instead. He whispered sweet nothings against your skin—small I love yous and honeyed words of praise. And surely, all the resolve you once had was long gone, swept up and blown out the window, never to be seen again.
The poor lace of your white panties cried in your arousal as your stomach flipped with excitement. The subtle clench of your thighs wouldn’t go unnoticed. You could feel the curl of an all-knowing grin against your skin. “I know you want something.” He whispered. It’s quiet, barely audible, but God, did you hear him.
You bit your inner cheek, contemplative in silence. If you know Nanami at all, you know he never allows you to go to bed angry. It’s one thing he won’t tolerate. He’s made it his personal mission to send you to bed with a smile on that pretty face of yours every night.
“Want me to take care of you tonight?” He breathed, his eyes searching for yours, “Show you how grateful I am for all that you do? Show you just how much I need you… how much you mean to me? Will you let me show you, my love?”
You can't stay mad at him nor could you deny yourself pleasure. How could you? He’s on his knees for you, begging at your feet for forgiveness like an atheist on judgment day. He loves you dearly and he won’t rest until he rights his wrongs. So you really can’t help it when you slowly nod to him, accepting his enticing offer.
A breathy laugh of relief fell from his lips, “Yeah? You’ll let me show you?” He grinned.
You nodded again, reaching out a hand for him. The gracious smile that marred his lips was peerless, almost as if his sole purpose in life is to demonstrate his love and appreciation for you. He eventually rose to his feet, towering above you before taking your hand and silently leading you to the living room. You followed closely as you desperately fought the grin trying to kiss your lips.
Nanami situated himself on the couch, his legs spreading naturally. The striped fabric of his trousers warped with the slow adjustment of his hips, the subtle bulge of his cock resting so prettily in his lap. He looked up at you as he sat quietly, the heat of his stare turning you into a puddle of nothingness before him. How could someone say so much, yet nothing at all? You understand him completely—his intentions, his determination, his carnal desire.
He jerked his head lightly, motioning you to him or rather on him.
Like a moth to flame, you were immensely drawn to him, deeply, uncontrollably. You hardly noticed the shuffle of your feet as you neared him before leaning down to fixate yourself on his lap. A shared breath of relief fell from your lips as they hovered mere centimeters apart. You couldn't hide the small grin that crept on your face. Nanami returned the smile, his much larger and dopey, but his eyes saddened.
“You even got all dolled up for me.” He commented, taking notice of your glossed lips and rosy cheeks. “I’m sorry, baby.” He frowned like before, as if he’s still haunted by his guilty conscience.
You shrugged, “It’s okay.” It comes out as a small whisper. You’re not even sure if you believe yourself. Nanami certainly doesn't, which is why he shook his head in disagreement.
“It’s not. I should have called,” He admitted as his hand reached for your face, cupping your warm cheek in his palm. You leaned into his touch, nodding slowly, wordlessly agreeing. “But m’gonna make it up to you.” He promised.
He was then leaning closer to push his lips onto yours, finally closing the aching distance. You kissed him back promptly, sighing against his mouth as you relaxed into his touch. He wasn’t modest as he kissed you hungrily, your nose pushing against his while you breathed into his mouth. Nanami hummed in satisfaction as he sloppily tasted your mouth. Your lips were so sweet and delicious, so perfectly shaped and carefully glossed.
Soon, you could feel the graze of his tongue along your bottom lip, silently begging for more to which you obliged, granting him access to your willing mouth. You allowed him to taste you from the inside, desperate to feel his tongue exploring your wet mouth. Even the subtle exchange of saliva had your hips stuttering as you sat on his lap.
Nanami’s hands were gripping the fat of your hips, his long fingers splayed along the flesh. The hem of your dress slowly bunched at your waist, exposing the pretty lace of your sheer panties. You couldn’t help the gape of your lips when you gasped at his cock pressing firmly against your clothed cunt. He pushed your hips against him, rocking you back and forth along his growing erection. The friction made you completely dizzy.
You couldn’t help the whiny moans that tumbled past your lips and into his mouth, your sweet voice going straight to his cock as he swallowed your saccharine whimpers. A cry left your lips at the feeling of him bucking his hips forward, further pushing himself against the lace of your underwear. And God, how you were so wet and bothered. Nanami fucking loved when you’d get like this. He swore he could feel your wetness seeping through the fabric of his trousers.
“Always been so sensitive.” He hummed.
His comment had your cheeks burning with crimson. It never took long for you to fall apart like this. He’s hardly touched you and you could already feel yourself unraveling like cheap thread. You crave him like you crave water and oxygen, as if you’d simply die from the sheer lack of him and he could tell. He could always tell.
“M’so grateful for you y’know.” He smiled drunkenly, reminding you of his gratitude, “So pretty ‘n sweet… always takin’ such good care of me.” He continued, dropping his head to kiss your neck softly.
You hummed in agreement, craning your head to the side, granting him more access to the receptive flesh. Nanami’s hands began to slide up your torso and beneath your dress. His warm grip was tight and familiar. He pulled you impossibly close, your chest pressed against his and now your dress was bunched up just below the curve of your breasts.
Nanami brought his gaze up to meet yours, silently begging to take off your dress to which you nodded. You held your arms up for him, allowing him to gather the cream fabric in his hands before pulling it over your head and tossing it aside. He smiled. Nanami loved when you’d opt for not wearing a bra, in fact, he encouraged it and wouldn't have it any other way. He loved that he could make out the shape of your breasts at any given moment. He even loved the prod of your nipples against the fabric of your blouses.
He wasted no time as he was bowing his head to slip one of your nipples into his mouth while his hands worked to push the fat of your breasts together. A trail of hot, openmouthed kisses littered your chest. He hummed in bliss as he tasted your skin. He was nothing but insatiable as he swapped back and forth between your tits, ran his tongue through the valley of your chest, and slipped both of your sweet nipples into his mouth.
Fuck, you could cum right here, just like this, and he knew it of course. The warm press of his cock against your poor pussy while his hot mouth drooled on your tits was pure torture. You were practically putty in his hands—beautiful and completely ruined by him and for him only. You lolled your head back as you bucked your hips, wanton moans falling from your parted lips.
“Grateful for this pretty little body.” He whispered as he felt you up greedily, squeezing and caressing just about any part of you he could reach.
“Na…namin,” You cried.
“I know, baby. I know.” He shushed, “I know you want more. Just wanna appreciate you is all.”
Nanami eventually willed himself away, but only to lift you off of him and set you down on the couch so that he could kneel on the rug in front of you. You sat upright with your back to the backrest of the couch, knees to your chest as they pressed together tightly. With one hand, Nanami was spreading your legs apart before tugging you closer to the edge of the cushion by your ankles.
You couldn’t bear the sight of him between your legs as he began to kiss you through the damp fabric of your panties, darting his tongue out to taste you just a little bit. It was awfully too much. You could hardly breathe as he beckoned for you to raise your hips so that he could pull your soiled panties down your legs, tossing them aside.
“Grateful for this sweet little pussy.” He breathed as he licked a long, ponderous strip, collecting your seeping arousal on the tip of his tongue.
You shuddered as he began to mouth your cunt. He kissed and drooled all over it, moaning and panting against it as if you were an oasis amidst a barren desert. As if he were a predator and you his prey. As if he’d simply die if didn’t devour you right here and now, whole, saving absolutely nothing for anybody.
As he sat on his knees between your legs, his hands gripped your inner thighs, keeping you spread nice and wide for him. You could hardly move, but that’s what he wanted. He wanted the entirety of your pussy on display for him. He needed you to be open and accessible and all for him.
He was still dressed in his business attire as he fucked you with his tongue. The first couple buttons of his blue dress shirt were undone and his spotted tie hung low from his neck. He even wore his loafers and his harness but none of that mattered to him. Maybe he liked the idea of you being completely bare and vulnerable and his only purpose is to be a vessel for your pleasure. Or it could just be the juxtaposition of it all.
“Fuuuck…” You drawled, “feels s’good.”
The swell of his cock was unbearable and you did nothing but push him further. Nanami wouldn't miss the subtle roll of your hips against his face, or the saccharine whimpers that tumbled from your mouth. He sure as hell wouldn’t miss the way you begged him to stuff you with his fingers. God, he could cream his fucking trousers.
He groaned as he slowly sunk his two middle fingers inside of you, “Oh, God, look at that.”
With hooded eyes and a lazy smirk, he watched as your greedy pussy sucked him in, kissing and coating his fingers in your essence. He couldn’t help but to shove those very fingers into his mouth, tasting you from the inside, only to return his fingers back to your pussy without missing a beat. He then dropped his head to wrap his lips around your clit. You whined as his fingers prodded your leaking hole while his tongue beckoned you to an inevitable release.
The obscene squelch of his fingers as he stuffed your drooling hole was sickening. You could only drape an arm over your eyes, shielding your face in embarrassment as he began to curl his fingers forward, pressing against your fluttering walls. With an open mouth you panted, and gasped, and moaned, and babbled, pleading for anything and everything.
And you’re just the sweetest thing ever to him. So pretty and delicious, he thought. Nanami couldn’t get enough of you. He lapped up everything you gave him, tonguing and sucking and slurping you up like a man starved. His groans and hums of pleasure as he ran his tongue through you were nothing but kindle to the ever-growing flame in the pit of your stomach.
His hands found purchase on your waist, gripping you tightly to pull you firmly onto his mouth. He let his jaw fall slack while lolling out his tongue, fully mouthing your cunt. Quite literally he stuffed his face with you, devouring you utterly and completely. He was obnoxious as he groaned and panted, deeply huffing and inhaling as if he were on the brink of death and you were his final breath, nursing him back to life.
How could someone be so pussywhipped? So drunk? So blinded by their own unceasing need to please? So much so that he doesn't even think twice when you cry for him to go lower, begging him to taste and appreciate you everywhere. He silently obliged, sharing a breath with you as he gathered your seeping arousal on the tips of his fingers so that he could drag them between the slit of your ass.
With both hands, he spread you further apart, warm palms on the fat of your ass, and his balls painfully swollen at the lewd sight of your holes throbbing and pulsing around nothing. Nanami gathered saliva in his mouth before puckering his lips and lolling out his tongue, messily drooling onto your pussy and asshole. He watched with a half-lidded stare as his saliva landed with a plap, slowly dripping from your cunt, to the space inbetween, until finally spilling onto your puckered hole.
Nanami dipped his head, quickly darting out his tongue to chase his spit so that he could push it into your ass. You gasped as his tongue probed and licked and tasted you. Fuck, you could cum just like that. You felt it—that deep, gnawing urge to release yourself with a buck of your hips and cry of his sweet name. God, you could fucking feel it.
“Yeeeah—my baby needs me everywhere, hmm?” He slurred drunkenly between drags of his tongue, “Needs me to appreciate her everywhere… even her pretty little asshole.”
You nodded dumbly with your pupils dilated and glazed over, your wet lips parted, and your eyebrows knitted. You could hardly recall how you ended up here… thighs pressed to your chest with your husband’s tongue and fingers delving in and out of your sloppy holes like some insatiable whore.
Is that what you are? Some insatiable whore whose only purpose in life is to be a slutty little housewife? It must be true though, right? It’s you who's getting your pussy and asshole slobbered on. You who’s feeling yourself up as you get devoured, groping and squeezing your breasts like a pornstar. And you who’s nodding off and choking over your words, begging to cum like your life depends on it. But maybe you end up like this in every life. Is it fate? Destiny? Is it just how it ought to be? Does it even matter?
You weren’t sure or maybe you just didn't care. How could you? Not with the way his thumb was slowly sinking into your asshole while his tongue licked through your sweet folds. Not with the way he was beginning to press his other thumb to your clit, beckoning you to cum in his mouth like the good girl he knows you are. And definitely not with the way your stomach was starting to tighten and coil with that all too familiar feeling.
“Nami!” You choked, your chest heaving as you panted and bucked.
You couldn’t fight your frown as he pulled away to smile up at you, the corners of his lips tugging into an all-knowing grin and his pussy drunk eyes boring holes into yours. You dripped down his face—the tip of his nose, his swollen lips and chin glistening in your arousal and his own saliva. It was debauched and lewd and entirely shameless but none of that mattered. It never mattered when he had you like this—so vulnerable, so helpless, so willing and meek. Maybe that’s the exact reason he craves you when he's away. Because he loses all sense of himself when he’s between your thighs. So lost in the objective of pleasuring you, in his need to satisfy.
“Want you to cum on my tongue so I can fuck all of my appreciation into you.” He whispered, his warm breath fanning your cunt, “You want that?”
You nodded hastily, humming and gasping in approval as you pushed your hips forward, chasing his hovering lips. Of course you want that and he knows it. He knows you’re unraveling at the seams, holding onto the fleeting semblance of sanity you grasp as you spiral toward an inevitable orgasm. He just knows it’ll tear you apart, sending you so far gone that he’s sure it’ll have tears threatening to spill down your flushed cheeks. If Nanami knows anything at all, he knows you—in and out like the back of his hand. He knows what your body needs, how much you can take, how deep he can go, and even how hard you’ll cum for him.
And it’s not just you. He too feels himself on the brink of orgasm, his poor cock threatening to spill into his Calvin Klein briefs, but not yet, not now. It was torture, his swollen balls pressed to the fat of his thigh and his heavy cock weeping precum all while being compressed by the restricting fabric of his trousers. God, it was absolute torture, but he would wait forever if it meant having his tongue and fingers inside of you.
“Nami, m’cumming… oh, God.” You cried.
It happened all too fast. Your poor brain couldn't register the orgasm that worked through your entire being. The feeling of your abdomen tightening and the flutter of your soft walls as his tongue helped you through it rendered you breathless. Your mind fell blank as he guided you through your orgasm, cooing words of praise and gratitude, leaving you a whimpering, stuttering mess.
Nanami moaned and panted as he drank you up, swallowing and enjoying everything you gave him. It’s almost animalistic the way he nearly unhinges his jaw to taste more of you if it were even possible. He’s a primal animal in his habitat, devouring his prey like it’s the last meal he’d ever have. It’s almost too good that it pains you, it’s too much.
You can’t stop your legs from closing around his head. “I can’t, baby...” You whine as you push him away with a little more force than intended.
Nanami drunkenly stumbles backwards onto the floor with a thud, his hands falling back to catch him and still, he smiles lazily. Well, it’s more of a crooked smirk. His usual ironed dress shirt now wore wrinkles and his normally manicured hair danced in a frenzy along his nape and forehead, blonde strands falling down to frame his face. He sat with his knees bent and his hands resting behind him to stabilize himself. His cheeks burned with crimson and his chest heaved.
“You really are so beautiful, my love,” He admired, “and I’m so grateful for you, your love, your compassion, your emotional complexity. I really am.” He breathed.
He’s babbling and you smile, heart swelling at his sentiment and vulnerability. His love is evident. It’s in your face, it’s overbearing, it’s real. “I love you more than you know.” You smile sweetly, holding your arms out for him to come to you.
Nanami pushed himself up from the floor to fall into your arms. “I love you with all that I am.” He admitted in a whisper, baring his soul.
His lips catch yours, pulling you into a tender kiss, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue. “I want to make love to you.” He breathed. You nod to him, sealing your answering with another sloppy kiss. You hardly notice Nanami gently pulling you off the couch to carry you upstairs, nearly tripping as he attempts to slip his loafers off in the process.
Blindly, he stumbled through the doorway of your shared bedroom. He laid you on the perfectly done up bed and cursed to himself at the salacious side of you—your bare body on display for him, swollen cunt exposed between your legs, silently begging for more, your fucked-out face and tousled hair. Nanami fought the urge to cum as he undressed himself before you, finally ridding himself of his clothes.
As you waited, you couldn’t help the hand that snaked between your legs so that you could touch yourself. Your other hand found its way to your mouth, your fingers pushed past your lips and you sucked sweetly as you watched Nanami unfasten the buttons of his dress shirt.
As he undid the clasp of his brown leather belt, he shook his head and laughed to himself. It’s more of a breathy chuckle as he grins in disbelief. “You just might be the death of me.” He jested as he pushed his briefs down his thighs, baring his swollen cock. It jumped free, bouncing to kiss his navel.
Your stomach swirled in excitement as he neared the bed, kneeling onto the edge of the mattress. You crawled toward him, reaching for his cock so that you could pump him in your hand. It’s warm, heavy, desperate. It hurts. Nanami hissed at the contact, eyebrows furrowing and eyes fluttering shut. He couldn’t hide the throaty moans that tumbled past his lips nor did he want to. He needs you to know exactly how he feels.
“Can… can you spit on it? Fuuuck,” He gasped, his stomach caving as you immediately gathered saliva in your mouth, lolling out your tongue so that you could drool onto the swollen head of his cock. “God, I love you.” He gaped as a hand came up to cup your cheek.
You smiled up at him, your cheeks glowing as you stroked him sweetly. “I need you to fuck me, Nami.” You whispered. It’s quiet, benign, and sincere and you meant it so deeply.
Nanami nodded, watching like a hawk as you laid back for him, spreading your legs and showing him exactly how you wanted him. It didn’t take long for him to situate himself between your thighs, tucking your legs on either side of his hips. With his cock in his palm, he dragged the leaking tip along the expanse of your cunt, spreading and collecting your arousal. You writhed beneath him as you rolled your hips, searching for the relief you so desperately craved.
You shook your head, “Unh unh, just fuck me.” You blurted impatiently.
He smiled down at you, cocking his head to the right just a bit, laughing lightly before nodding in accordance. You braced yourself as he began to push the head of his cock inside of you with his thumb. The two of you sharing a gasp, your mouths agape as you both watched him slowly sink inside of you. Already, it was too much, and you weren’t even fully stuffed.
The moans that fell from your lips were nothing but needy, sultry whines and little gasps of air. Nanami groaned in response to your pretty little sounds, his voice low and guttural. There was nothing he loved more than your sweet voice, especially when you’d get all needy and whiny like this. He almost couldn’t help himself as he pushed his cock further inside of you, his hands reaching for the curve of your waist to pull you onto him, tucking himself as deep as he possibly could.
“Nanamin…” You breathed, your eyebrows knitting as your lips parted.
“I know,” He cooed, “but you can take it, yeah? You always do.”
He smiled sweetly as he drew his hips back, reveling in the way your arousal kissed him in a sheen layer. He held his breath as he pushed his hips forward like before, stuffing you to the brim. He gauged your expression, watching as your face contorted in pleasure, searching for your silent needs so that he can fuck you just how you like.
Slowly, he subconsciously nodded to himself as he pulled out of you. He nodded as if this was the answer to everything he’s ever questioned in life. “Yes, baby… fuck.” He stifled as he lolled his head back, “My sweet girl, always takin’ me so well.”
You are his sweet girl. His sweet girl that likes to get her pussy licked and fucked. His sweet girl that begs for all of her slutty holes to be stuffed and fingered. His sweet girl who pretends to be upset so that he’ll have to fuck her to put a smile on her face. And his sweet girl who is never satisfied, no matter how many times she cums.
“More.” You whispered.
He let you reach for his face and pull him close. You panted as you slotted lips against his, hooking your feet together behind him, encouraging him to fuck you like he’s meant to. You kissed him sloppily, your tongue lapping and sliding against his, licking and tasting him from the inside, remnants of your cum still lingering on his tongue.
Nanami pulled away, a gossamer of saliva connecting his bottom lip to yours, that same idle smirk playing his wet lips. “God, you need it don’t you?” He exhaled in a single breath, his eyes searching for yours in the dimly lit room.
You nodded eagerly, lifting your head to chase his fleeting lips. He kissed you back like before except this time, he was unhooking your legs to grip the back of your thighs, pinning them to the duvet and spreading you completely open for him. You want to get fucked? He’ll do just that. You deserve it after all.
The warm stretch of his cock as he split you open made your head spin. You sucked him in greedily, your wet walls kissing him so sweetly. He filled you so well, almost too perfectly, like he was hand tailored for you and you only. You could hardly breathe as he leaned forward, angling his hips slightly downward to lick at your neck. You whined as he licked a long, ponderous strip from your collar bone, to the shell of your ear, sealing it with a kiss, his thrusts still heavy and sharp, the head of his cock pressing against your cervix.
Each time his hips collided with yours, the sound of skin against skin was all that could be heard along with your choked whimpers and huffs of his breath against your neck, his thrusts heavy and deep. Nanami was losing himself as he fucked you, heavy balls slapping the thick of your ass, fat cock bullying its way deeper and deeper inside of you. Fuck, he wanted nothing more than to stuff his cum inside of you, tainting you with his seed, claiming you all for himself for eternity.
“My sweet girl needed me to fuck her like this, huh?” He cooed, his hand sliding up your stomach to grip your cheeks gingerly, forcing your lips into a pout. “Needed me to get on my knees and beg for her forgiveness like some kind of slut,” He kissed you sweetly, “I love it… makes me so hard… it hurts, baby. But I love it so much.” He babbled, kissing you sloppily between breaths.
It was a mess, all of it. Your cunt glistened in a sinful mixture of arousal while Nanami kissed you messily with his tongue lolled out, even the subtle exchange of saliva had you so aroused that you could cry, only adding to the wet mess the two of you created. You curled your toes as your eyes welled with tears, his thumb pressing against your clit, lips slotted against yours. It was all too much, your poor head was so empty and sore.
“I love when you turn me into this,” He confessed, his infatuation for you so ardently evident, “even think about you at work too y’know… get me so fuckin’ worked up… m’always so hard when I think about you. You make me crazy, I swear.” He inhaled a tight breath as he fought the gnawing urge to cum.
You gasped as he slipped out of you to lay down on the bed, pulling you with him. He put you on your side and tucked himself behind you, gripping the back of your thigh and hiking your leg to slip his cock back inside of you with a groan. Desperately, he fucked himself into you from the behind, his warm breaths lost in your neck, cock slipping in and out of you, wet balls kissing your ass with an obscene schlop.
“Think about you too, Nami.” You whispered, turning your head to meet his face, “M-missed you so much—fuck…”
Nanami grinned lazily, his nose brushing yours, “Yeah? You missed me baby? Do you touch yourself when I’m away? Thinkin’ ‘bout me fucking you just like this while you play with that pretty pussy?” His voice honeyed and sweet, thick with genuine curiosity and lust.
You hummed in agreement, huffing out short breaths in sync with the thrust of his hips. You could feel yourself slipping into a place of no return, a place so far gone, so depraved, that you were afraid you’d lose yourself and cream all over him, ruining the freshly washed sheets. Your walls squeezed the length of his cock, begging him to spill inside of you and Nanami was feral as he fucked you stupid, cresent-shaped nails digging into your thighs, his breath hitching with each inhale.
“Want your c-cum,” You slurred, your pretty face contouring in your own need to release, “want you to cum inside of me… show me how much you really love ‘n appreciate me with your babies. Need your babies, Nami… please?”
His cock twitched, “F-fuck, is that what you need? Will that make you happy, sweetheart?”
You mouthed a silent plea, nodding to him with parted lips. He gripped your face softly, bringing you close to taste your swollen lips for the umpteenth time tonight. There was nothing you needed more. Absolutely nothing on earth would satisfy you more than taking all of his cum like a good girl should. You dreamt of getting knocked up by Nanami, your stomach so cute and round as you waddled around the house with a gracious smile.
“Say it, baby, please, will you?” He begged softly, his hips stuttering as his thrusts grew sloppier, “Say you want me to breed you and make you a mommy… please, baby, fuck.” He gasped as his impending orgasm coiled in his abdomen, threatening to tear him apart.
“Need you to make me a mommy, Nanami… been such a good girl for you. I deserve it, please.” You brainlessly babbled.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck—okay, baby. Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you.” He moaned, “Gonna give my good girl all of my cum, such a pretty fuckin’ girl… deserves all my cum—oh my God.”
He whined shamelessly, his erratic breaths soon turned into broken ones, each of them interrupted with a whimper or hiss. His chest heaved as his lower stomach began to tighten, his wet cock throbbing inside of you, the head weeping against your cervix. Eventually, that winding coil in the pit of his stomach snapped, releasing itself in several spurts of thick, milky cum, coating your walls in his viscous seed. Still, he bucked his hips into you, his cock accidently slipping out a few times and pushing against you clit from the force of his thrusts only for your greedy hand to reach down to tuck him back inside, allowing him to fuck his cum as deep as he could, none of it going to waste.
“You gonna cum for me, hm? Make a mess after you’ve just cleaned the house?” He cooed, reaching a hand down your body to play with your clit, tracing small, tight circles around the sensitive bud, encouraging your looming orgasm.
You squeaked a small yes in response, eyes falling shut as you felt your orgasm swelling. His voice only pushed you further, his encouraging words and sweet nothings coaxing you. He was sending you so far, stringing you along so thin, beckoning you to cum all over him and make a mess. His cum seeped from your pussy, dribbling onto the satin sheets in a sinful puddle beneath you and you could only whine as your soft walls fluttered around him.
He pressed his lips to your shoulder, kissing you sweetly, “Cum for me, my pretty baby, c’mon.” He encouraged, “Cum for me like I know you need to—yessss, baby, yes cum just like that… all over my cock, fuck.”
After ensuring you were thouroughly fucked through your orgasm, his thrusts slowed and eventually, his hips stilled completely. He slipped out of you, nearly cumming again as he watched your pulsing cunt push out his seed, his cock too dripping in a sweet layer of cum and arousal. He almost couldn’t help the hand that slipped between your legs, fingers finding your pussy to gather his cum on the tips, pummeling it deeper inside of you.
It was too much, too sensitive. You shook your head as you whined in overwhelming pleasure, pushing your thighs together and forcing his hand away. Nanami hushed you with a kiss, explaining that he would prefer his cum not to go to waste. He just wanted to make sure his seed was planted, make sure that you’d get pregnant and there was no doubt you’d end up plump and full with his baby. He turned you to face him, shuffling close so his nose could touch yours.
“You’d make the most beautiful mother.” He smiled gently, peeling the disheveled hair off of your face, baring your blushed cheeks and sweat-ridden forehead.
His heart swelled when you beamed in return, your eyes fluttering sheepishly as sleep loomed. Nanami thought you looked prettiest like this, so raw and exposed in your post-orgasmic state. He could see right through you like a glass house in broad daylight. There was almost an internal glow within you, a radiating brightness that consumed everything in its wake and he adored that about you. Possibly the reason he fell so hard all those years ago.
“You really are so beautiful to me.” He breathed as if coming to the realization all over again, “I love you and it hurts my heart when I disappoint you.” He frowned.
You leaned forward and kissed the tip of his nose, “I love you too, Nami. Just don’t let it happen again, hm?” You partly joked as you squinted, shooting him playful daggers.
He kissed your nose too, “It won’t happen again.”
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★,。・:*: ☆。・:*:・゚
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MSBY BLACK JACKALS READ THIRST TWEETS ! (SAKUSA EDITION)
will probably make this a series. i just love this team so darn much *sigh*
[atsumu version]
this fic features…
haikyuu timeskip!spoilers, highly suggestive content (as the title entails), inappropriate language, sus atsumu 🤨, genre: crack, some of these are actual tweets i found lol.
Set the scene: the MSBY quartet shuffle into frame, they each take their seat in front of the iconic blue backdrop. You hear Hinata and Bokuto exchanging lively words, Atsumu fixing his hair so it swooshes the right way, and Sakusa removing his face mask and handing it to their team’s pr manager who accompanied them to this shoot.
“Is one of us gonna say it or are we all gonna say it together?” Hinata asks, looking at his teammates.
“I think we should all say it,” Atsumu replies, to which Sakusa nods in agreement.
Bokuto claps his hands together, getting excited. “Let’s do this!”
- cut scene -
“Hi, we’re the MSBY Black Jackals and we’re here with Buzzfeed to read your thirst tweets!” They say in unison.
Bokuto makes a jazz hands gesture, “Sakusa Kiyoomi edition~” he sings, as Hinata bounces in his chair and Atsumu slaps Sakusa’s back in an attempt to hype up the outside hitter.
Sakusa sighs and lets out a defeated chuckle, “Lord, help me…”
- cut scene -
The crew tosses Sakusa a phone, he catches it easily and takes a deep breath before reading.
“I need MSBY’s #15 to bend that flexible hand inside my bussy. Please and thank you.”
Sakusa quirks a confused brow, “What’s a bussy?”
Atsumu snickers. Hinata smiles, “Well, at least we know Omi-kun isn’t chronically online.”
Bokuto puts an arm around Sakusa’s chair, knowing better than to drape it around him or else he’d throw a cold glare his way. “I told you to get on Tiktok, Omi.”
Sakusa rolls his eyes, “I am not getting that dancing app, Bokuto.”
Bokuto’s lips funnel into a pout, “Then how are you gonna learn the language of the people?”
“What, like bussy?”
Atsumu childishly laughs again. “Haha…bussy…”
Sakusa tsks, “Are you gonna tell me what it is already or what?”
Hinata sighs and puts his hands together, “I am sorry to tell you this, Omi-kun, but it means—“
“Butt pussy!” Atsumu blurts out, unable to hold it in any longer. “Like a boy’s pussy, Omi-Omi. Get it?”
Sakusa’s expression is one that makes it look like he was in physical pain, which he might as well be in at the moment. He side eyes Bokuto, “That’s the so-called language of your people?”
“It’s funnier when Miya isn’t combusting.”
Sakusa sighs, “I’m not using that word, let alone using my flexible wrists for it.” He says before he passes the phone to Hinata, who reads the next tweet:
“Dear Sakusa Kiyoomi, *taps mic and clears throat* NO LUBE, NO PROTECTION, ALL NIGHT, ALL DAY, FROM THE KITCHEN FLOOR TO THE BATHROOM SINK, FROM THE DINING TABLE TO THE BEDROOM—“
Hinata lowers the phone and says, “That’s it. That’s the tweet.”
Atsumu wolf whistles and Bokuto hoots while shaking his head. Hinata is biting his thumb, trying NOT to burst out in laughter.
Sakusa blinks once, twice, before speaking up. “That’s…wow that sounds filthy.”
Atsumu barks with laughter, “Literally!”
Sakusa’s eyes widen in horror, “The bathroom?? Seriously? I get the other places, but really? The dirty bath—“
Bokuto intervenes, “Woah woah there Omi, you get the other places?”
Hinata snickers, “You hiding your freaky side from us, Omi-kun?”
Sakusa groans, dragging his hands over his face. “Please, let’s not discuss this on Youtube dot com”. He recovers and clears his throat, looking right at the camera, “Make wise choices, censored user.”
Hinata passes the phone to Atsumu. The blond setter chuckles before he even reads it out loud, Sakusa already feels the dread awaiting him.
“It’s the broad shoulders and tiny waist and the compression sleeves and the undershirt and the butt and that neck and those curls and his eyes,” Atsumu reads through breathless laughter.
He turns the phone around so that his teammates can see the screen, “And then, they attached a screenshot from a manga that simply transcribes ‘cock sucking noises’!” He wheezes, nearly dropping the phone.
Bokuto’s mouth hangs open but no noise comes out as he struggles to catch his breath, leaning his weight into Atsumu who is just as equally—if not more—cracked than he is. Hinata is busy hiding his face with his hands as he laughs, nearly folding himself up from how far he’s leaning down from his seat. Sakusa is watching his teammates loss their minds as he begins to question his life choices that led him to this moment.
Sakusa sighs, “There will be no cock sucking noises, but thank you for the compliment.”
Atsumu begins to recover, “Oh man…” he wipes a tear, “Omi-Omi, stand up and let ‘em see that slutty waist of yours.”
Sakusa shoots Atsumu a deadly look. Bokuto cheers to encourage Sakusa, while Hinata can’t help but glance at Sakusa’s waist.
“Allow me to correct myself; there will be no cock sucking noises nor will there be any showing offs of the slutty waist.”
Atsumu and Bokuto boo, Sakusa rolls his eyes at their reaction. Hinata winks at the camera, “But there will be some slutty waists in next week’s Calvin Klein feature that Sakusa did.”
Sakusa hums, “Yeah, so save those thoughts until then.”
Atsumu passes the phone back to Bokuto, who mumbles: “C’mon give me a good one…”
Bokuto clears his throat, “Sakusa Kiyoomi might be an outside hitter for MSBY, but i need him to be an INSIDE HITTER for this pus—“, he turns to the camera, “They cut themselves off there.”
Sakusa winces at those words. Hinata laughs, “I like the play on words.”
Sakusa adjusts his posture, “That would be very painful, no?”
Atsumu clarifies, “I think that’s what they want, Omi-Omi.”
Bokuto rubs his chin in thought, “Sakusa hits spikes pretty hard…I can’t imagine how hard he could go inside user-san’s—“
Sakusa waves his hand panickedly, “Please don’t finish that sentence.” He glances at their pr manager, who—by some unexplainable miracle—hasn’t said anything so far.
Sakusa clears his throat, “Unless the pay is higher, I will not be changing my position to your inside hitter, sorry. Actually, I lied; I am not sorry.”
The phone gets passed back to Sakusa, “Sakusa Kiyoomi has 47 moles and I intend to suck each and every one of them off his body.”
Hinata giggles mischievously, “Miya-san, did you write that?”
“I DID NOT WRITE THAT!”
Bokuto cackles, “How else did the user know the exact amount of moles on Sakusa’s body? You’re the one that’s always staring at each of us in the locker room.”
“WE DON’T EVEN KNOW IF THAT NUMBER IS ACCURATE!!”
Sakusa speaks up calmly, “It is accurate, actually.”
Atsumu goes pale at his words, “O-oh okay…but that doesn’t mean I wrote it!!!”
Sakusa disguises a laugh as a cough, “As much as I love to pick on Miya—“
“HEY!”
“—I’m still impressed that the Twitter user got that number right. Bravo.” He then applauds. Bokuto and Hinata follow. “Maybe I’ll let you do what you said since you got it right.”
Hinata elbows Sakusa suggestively, to which Sakusa repels away from his touch, “Okayyy, Omi. Get it, I guess. Need me to find the user’s number?”
“No.” Sakusa says immediately, but he’s concealing a smirk. He passes the phone to the winking orange-head.
Hinata begins to read: “For Sakusa Kiyoomi, I would bathe in 99.9% disinfectant, drink that shit, even inject myself with it—if it meant getting a shot at bagging that man.”
Sakusa rolls his eyes, already huffing. “Look, I don’t know who started the rumor that I’m a crazy germaphobe, but let me sit the record straight now: I am not that deranged; I just like things to be clean and tidy.”
Bokuto nods, crossing his arms, “Yeah, you tell ‘em, Omi!”
Atsumu shakes his head in disappointment, “Ya guys keep making Omi-Omi sound like some freak. Yeah, he wears a mask everywhere and carries hand sanitizer wherever he goes, but that’s just basic hygiene standards. Do better.”
Hinata points at the camera with his chin up, “Yeah, the only time Omi-kun is a freak is when it’s in the sheets.”
“SHOYO!”
“HINATA, HEYYY!”
Sakusa facepalms and sighs, “Give me my mask back; I’m leaving.”
“NO, OMI-KUN, WAAAAAIT . I’M SORRY—“
“This is supposed to be a thirst tweets video, and yet my teammates seem to be the thirstiest of all.” Sakusa says to no one in particular.
“Call it team-bonding. Meian would be proud.” Atsumu responds, imagining the look of approval on their captain’s face.
Sakusa tilts his head back, appearing to be praying to some god. He looks back at the camera, “But to that user, please don’t do that. That’s deadly.”
Bokuto clasps his hands together, “Awww, Omi cares~”
- cut scene -
Sakusa tosses the phone back to the crew, “And that’s all, thank god.”
Hinata grins, “Thanks for sending us your tweets and traumatizing our Omi-kun.”
Sakusa grimaces, “Ah yeah, it was a delight.” He says sarcastically.
Atsumu flashes the camera a charming smile, “Tune in for the upcoming videos of the rest of us reading your thirst tweets.”
Bokuto throws up finger guns to the camera, “Can’t wait to see what you guys have in store for us!”
“This was the MSBY Black Jackals, goodbye!”
kenjisatos
#haikyuu#haikyuu x imagines#haikyuu crack#haikyuu oneshot#msby black jackal#haikyuu time skip#haikyuu manga#haikyuu msby#haikyuu memes#msby atsumu#msby bokuto#msby hinata#msby sakusa#msby 4#msby x reader#thirst tweets#buzzfeed interview#haikyuu smau#miya atsumu#bokuto koutarou#hinata shouyou#sakusa kiyoomi#hq atsumu#haikyuu atsumu#hq bokuto#haikyuu bokuto#hq hinata#hq sakusa#haikyuu sakusa#sakusa x reader
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It’s wildly known throughout the multiple x-men movies that Wolverine, aka Logan Howlett, just doesn’t fuck with flying. He’s a nervous flyer, it’s one of his longest standing phobias. 
“Now boarding flight AA472 to London,” The second you hear the air hostess talking, you know that Logan’s heart rate just got exponentially faster. “Passengers onboard flight AA472, please make your way to gate C for boarding.”
“You doing alright there Lo?” You ask softly as Logan stands with a growl. He was still seething from the metal detector pat down.
“Flying and I don’t have the best track record,” He admits again, though he knows it’s something you already know about him. “Tin cans in the sky, what a load of crap.”
“I understand you were born in the 1800’s,” You tease the gentle giant that is Logan. He raises an eyebrow at you, why did you have to remind him about his age like that? “But just look at flying as apart of evolution.”
“Evolution can go fuck itself.” It’s the old man death stare as he snatches the boarding passes from your hand that truly gets you going. You can match Logan’s energy. He knows it.
“Well with that attitude I’m sure you’ll be the flight attendants favourite person on board, now won’t you?” Again you tease, too chipper for your own good to be heading to London.
But even though you find it somewhat humorous that the man sitting beside you, who’s been alive for well over two hundred years, is deathly afraid of flying. You find it rather endearing when you hit a bout of turbulence a few hours in. 
“Fuck.” Logan growls as the plane drops. His body goes ridged with tension as he tries not to look out the window. But to the other side of him? Is you.
“You're totally fine Lo,” You remind him. Your voice is soothing and all encompassing. But its the way your hand glides across his as his grip on your forarm loosens. Logan wasn't even aware he'd grabbed ahold of you when it felt like his heart was about to fall out of his arse. “We’ll be fine, and even if we're not, I'm sure you'll be able to regenerate pretty quickly.” It's the cheeky smile as the pad of your thumb dances across his sensitive knuckles that gets Logan the most.
“You sound like Wade, just—less idiotic.” Logan replies as he lets himself sink back into the chair. “I fucking hate flying.” Logan intertwines his fingers with yours, a new thing for him. Holding hands had never been something he'd really ever done in his overextended life. Until he met you.
“Cats always land on their feet big guy,” You teased, knowing full well banter was your love language. “I'm sure the same thing applies to Wolverines.”
“I take the less idiotic thing back.” Logan rolled his eyes so hard they nearly got lost in the back of his head. But the way he brought your knuckles to his lips told you otherwise.
Ilya
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OP MEN when they’re in the mood pt. 2
ft. Shanks, Mihawk, Katakuri, King (not proofread)
Shanks
Little did you know that it’s you who gets him in the mood every single time. It’s not just a “I’m feeling horny and I need release” typa thing.
He gets riled up when he watches you put on your favorite lipstick, when you try on your newly bought clothes and show it to him, when you walk around the ship with his shirt on, and when you sit on his lap.
His brain is quick to conjure up different positions he’ll fuck you in when you sit on his lap.
At first, he’d rub your inner thigh ‘absentmindedly,’ and when you shift on his leg, that’s when he’ll go further.
With a mug of beer in his other hand and half his attention on his crewmates, his fingers slowly dance their way up your leg until he stops just when he’s near your panties.
While he chats with his members he’ll toy with the garter of your underwear, tugging it at first before he snakes his hand inside just to feel the skin near your pussy.
And when you squirm, he’ll lean near your ear, face flushed with words a little slurred.
“Once they all get wasted and pass out I’m gonna fuck you on my bed, yeah?”
Mihawk
Mihawk is the type of person to plan things before it happens.
He’d feel the need to feel the warmth of your pussy as it clenches on his thick cock, but when he sees you busy he’d patiently wait until your schedule is free.
He’d set up a romantic candlelit dinner, cooking you steak and pouring you the finest wine in his collection.
He’d let out a small, ‘nonchalant’ smile when you compliment his cooking, all while holding himself back from pining you on the table and taking you then and there.
On the middle of the dinner, he’d casually say, “Let’s have sex.” which will lead you to choke on your food.
“After dinner,” You’d say, and in his mind he’s already celebrating.
When you two finish, he’ll ask you to take his hand and lead you to the bedroom, gasping when you see rose petals scattered inside and lovely music playing from his vintage record player.
Katakuri
He’s mostly shy around you, being his first girlfriend and all.
Some people may think that he acts coldly towards you, but it’s only you who truly knows why he acts that way.
You’d know he’s in the mood when he acts cranky and touchy.
He’ll wrap his arm around your waist, fiddle with your fingers, compare hand sizes, and glare at anyone who dares speak to you or even breathe your way.
But when he’s really in the mood, his subtle touches will level up.
He’d rub your inner thighs, fondle your breasts, lightly squeeze your butt.
You’d notice how his breath gets heavier and how his pupils dilate when you get near him.
You’ll notice him staring at you the whole day without saying a damn word, and when you notice these signs you’ll chuckle and pull him into a passionate kiss.
King
King is a busy man, working under Kaido means he has to do things almost 24/7.
The only time you’d spend with him is when’s sent on expeditions, which rarely happens because he’s always glued beside Kaido.
Or, when he just finished a battle.
While his whole system is still pumping with adrenaline from a recent battle, the only reason for him to calm down is to sink into your tight cunt.
When he sees you after he just won a fight, all his pent up energy will shoot straight down his dick.
He’s a man of few words, and once he has you pinned against the wall, you know what will happen next.
“Fuck, I haven’t seen you in a long time. Open your pretty legs for me so I can show you how much I missed you.”
#one piece#one piece fanfiction#one piece scenario#one piece x reader#one piece smut#shanks x reader#mihawk x reader#king one piece#king the wildfire#king the wildfire x reader#king x reader#katakuri x reader#charlotte katakuri#akagami no shanks#dracule mihawk
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lava lamp
in which spencer reid comforts gn!reader when you find yourself contending with a sudden bout of depression
fluff
warnings/tags: established relationship, reader has depression, task paralysis, spencer reid can't cure your depression but he sure can't make it worse
a/n: this is most definitely not inspired by the pink lava lamp in my room. it has nothing to do with that. extremely short and sweet, WC <800
The room is awash in hot pink.
It’s interrupted only by dark shadows cutting lines across the floor and the furniture. The blinds are down over the window so moonlight can’t seep in—assuming the moon is in fact out now. You’re not actually sure. You don’t know how long you’ve been lying here like this, studying the soft glow of the lava lamp where it sits on the bedside table, watching the blobs of orange separate and conjoin and float around each other like they’re dancing in the suspending liquid.
The sound of keys in the front door, of it scuffing against the floor as it opens and squeaking shut and the lock clicking back into place, inspire the tiniest spark of joy inside you. For a few moments you remain in solitude—listening to the sounds of the kitchen sink running as Spencer washes his hands, a glass being set down on the counter, the soft rustle of fabric on fabric as he takes his coat off. Maybe you have really excellent hearing. Maybe you’re just imagining the sounds because you’re so familiar with his post-work rituals.
Finally the bedroom door opens, catching your legs in a triangle of yellow light, and sounds cease—Spencer is surely standing in the doorway, surely surprised to find you sprawled on the bed, staring vacantly at the lamp you’d purchased last winter from an antique shop.
The door closes again, encasing you in an amnion of pink warmth once more.
“Hi,” he says, quietly enough.
You don’t respond. Not for a lack of affection. Just for a lack of energy, really. Spencer is used to you, and he doesn’t let your heavy mood stop him from moving to sit on the mattress behind you. The heat of his hand is a comforting weight as it finds your back, slowly rubbing up and down. There is always so much love in the way he touches you.
“How’re you feeling, honey?”
A quiet moment passes in which you’re gathering the energy to speak for the first time in hours. Spencer doesn’t rush you.
“Tired.”
More quiet.
“What kind of tired?”
But he knows what kind of tired.
“I tried to fold laundry,” you mumble, lacking even the gumption to move your mouth much as you speak. You tap the laundry basket with your toe where it sits on the foot of the bed. The laundry inside remains very much unfolded.
“I can handle it.”
If you had any more vitality you’d say, you shouldn’t have to, you just got home from a full day’s work, I’ll take care of it—but the truth is, you can’t handle it and you can’t take care of anything—not even yourself. All you can do is watch orange bubbles float in radioactive pink liquid.
“I don’t know what happened,” you whisper. A few tears take you by surprise as they roll down over the bridge of your nose, though your face remains stony. “I’ve been here for hours.”
Spencer’s hand remains steadfast on your back and you wish you could express how grateful you are for it and for him and for his gentle voice, always.
“Maybe nothing happened. Maybe some days are just hard.”
You sniffle. The answer is unsatisfying, but so is life, sometimes. And you know he’s right.
“Yeah.”
Time passes. A few minutes, maybe, of listening to your own ears ring, to the haunting frequency of the old building, of the upstairs neighbors walking around and snatches of music coming from cars on the streets below.
“You know, I sometimes have days where I just want to lie down and stare at the lava lamp too. I think a lot of people feel that way.”
You turn your head just slightly and finally see him, cast in the soft lambent glow, smiling down at you in that unconscious, serene way, that is little more than a curve of his lip. Just seeing his face makes something in your chest unclench.
“Really?”
The soft arch of his smile flickers momentarily wider.
“Metaphorically speaking.”
He’s perfect.
You reach over your own waist to grab his hand, and he interlocks your fingers, running his thumb over yours.
Spencer knows it, but you tell him anyway. “I love you.”
He leans down and kisses you, so softly it’s like medicine.
You know it, but Spencer says it back anyway, sweetly against your lips, heads pressed together. “I love you.”
And you much prefer this view to the lava lamp.
#spencer reid fic#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid angst#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds#spencer reid x fem!reader#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds fic#criminal minds fanfic
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brats & bows katsuki bakugou ── ᡣ𐭩 ˙ ̟🩰 !!
⋆˙ᝰ about! katsuki lets you wrap a bow around his pretty throat and boss him around… or at least try to.
warnings ! minors blank and ageless blogs do not interact. nsfw, smut. characters aged up to 20s, light!choking, size kink, switch dynamics, unprotected sex, bows for bondage, fem!reader, pro hero!bakugou.
ok ok… convincing bakugou to let you wrap a pink bow around his neck.
riding him slow and steady, your cunt milking him with every clench and his cock spurting little streams of precum deep inside every time it spasms. you sink down on him so slow he think he might die from your tortuous pace. bakugou knows he can take over at any minute, there’s a strength in his body no other human could possibly match. it would be easy for him to flip you over and pound you to putty into the couch. he is a pro hero after all…but he really does like this. he loves the feel of your hand reaching back to wrap around his thick throat and dance along the silk ribbon you’d begged to tie there.
your fingers are so small that they hardly can’t even fit around around him entirely… but he feels the heat of your palm through the pink material and the burning sensation of lust that you pass onto him. katsuki adores your sweet little attempt at choking him while choking back your own heavy tears, hiccuping while you throw your hips back and forth so that his tip never leaves your sweet spot. lewd squelching sounds echo throughout the room, needy whines like a lamb bleating at its slaughter tack themselves to your swollen lips and slide through katsuki’s eardrums like dangerous molten molasses.
something about you crying for him, drooling on him drives the blonde insane and makes it hard for him to hold back — he almost feels sorry for you. his precious little cry baby. he knows he’s a little sick for it.
katsuki likes that you think you’re in control when you’re on top of him and in his lap. using him like your own personal fuck toy — but he knows you’re frustrated, itching for the explosive man to touch your clit, to stick his fingers in your mouth and press down on your tongue or better yet kiss you. your sweaty back to his sweltering chest, his shallow breathing coasting along your bare shoulders makes it worse. katsuki looking so pretty beneath you with a dainty bow secured around his neck to only pisses you off more.
you’d fought tooth and nail to put it on him, grinned like a Cheshire Cat when the blonde whimpered and twitched at the soft sensation of the ribbon around his neck — only just restricting his air ways. you thought that you’d have him under your spell, maybe begging to fuck you while you used him for your own orgasms.
but this is katsuki, and he’s just as bratty as you are. so, if you were going to be in charge, he’d let you. he’d make you work for it — a little bit of pink ribbon wasn’t going to make him submit to you that easily.
and therefore… he does nothing, lets you throw your ass back on his throbbing dick as it drips between your sticky thighs and he thinks he’s still got you under control. that is, until you reach grasp at the soft ends of his ribbon and use it to lug him forward with all your might, startling the cocky blonde.
it’s like a switch has been flipped inside of you, being kept on the edge because your boyfriend won’t fuck you to prove a point has you pent up and desperate. “don’t just sit there, kats,” you snarl in frustration between heavy breaths, sloppy pussy squeezing around the pulsating veins that decorate katsuki bakugou’s, cubby, aching dick. “be useful for once. fuck me. make me feel good.”
from this position, you can’t see the way his black pupils blow wide and swallow the red in his eyes like spilt ink. but your head tips back and to side, just enough to capture his cherry bitten lips in a sloppy, uncoordinated kiss. you lap into his mouth like a dog having her first taste of water, tasting his flavour and the sweat on his lips. every kiss l is mismatched, rough and messy but your bodies and their movements harmonise like no other — rolling against one another, your cunt never letting go of his swollen cock that fills you up oh so well.
your tone had said it all and it’s all bakugou really needed to let loose, his hips kicking up at the sound of your voice, rough with arousal and deepened with desire. finally, his calloused hands map their way over to your front, the pads of his fingers etching the letters of his name onto your puffy clit while others leave their mark on your hips — holding you in place to take his cock. the blonde loves it all, the way your back arches from his chest and the way your mewls turn to breathless growls when you lose your cool and pull the ends of the pretty bow so hard that his eyes glaze over, his brain goes fuzzy and he can’t stop thrusting up into like his life depends on it.
sweat beads on his brow and against katsuki’s hairline like a crown made of pearls or an angel’s halo much unlike the devilish act the two of you are committing right now. the competing wax and waning of your bodies sends a shiver down his spine — when you slam yourself down onto his seedy girth, katsuki bucks into you, slender hips and sweaty ass rising from the bed to grind his precum into your sluice walls.
maybe katsuki isn’t always in control, even when he thinks he is. maybe your big wet eyes and gushing pushy have more of a grip on him than he thinks…after all, you did manage to convince him to put the bow on after all.
꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate, feed into ai & recommend elsewhere.
#bakugou smut#bakugou x reader#bakugou x you#bakugo smut#bakugo x reader#bakugou drabbles#bakugou imagines#bakugo x you#bnha smut#bnha x reader#katsuki bakugou x reader#katsuki bakugou smut#mha x reader#mha smut#bakugou katsuki smut#bakugou katsuki x reader#bnha x you#mha x you#✧ ₊˚੭ — writing#tteokdoroki
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sundress
theodore nott x fem!reader
masterlist
summary; you wear a new sundress to your date with theo, knowing that he loves them on you, and he cannot resist the temptation.
warnings; google translated italian, dom!theo, sub!reader, SMUT without a plot, public sex, praising, pet names, lots of kissing and groping, choking, neck grabbing, hair pulling, fingering, heavy dirty talk, p in v, unprotected sex, breeding kink... overall, pure filth.
author's note; english isn't my first language, so you might find mistakes. "helping hand" has reached over a 1.000 notes, TYSM! i'm so happy! hope you enjoy this 🤍
you were trying to hold back your playful giggles as theo pushed you inside the three broomsticks bathroom, his large hand covering your mouth to muffle your cute little laugh so that the rest of customers didn't hear you both sneaking into the ladies restroom.
'what had brought you two there?' you might be wondering... well, that's actually a really short story.
as every saturday, theo and you were in hogsmeade, having a date. it was may, the weather was warm and the sun was shining in the sky, so you had decided to put on a new sundress that your mother had bought you for your birthday a few weeks ago —knowing that theo loved seeing you in that kind of clothing.
the dress was white, with a flared skirt and a corseted body which ended in a low and flattering neckline. it made your body look stunning and theo had almost gone crazy when he saw you earlier; the soft fabric hugging your curves, bringing out the light tan of your skin... he had been literally drooling over you the entire date, and now, he couldn't hold back anymore: he needed to fuck you.
and he couldn't wait until you both were back at hogwarts.
he kicked the bathroom door shut behind you both while peppering kisses along your slender neck, gently sucking and biting your skin to mark you all over; at the same time, his hands groped your body almost desperately.
"you look so fucking beautiful today," theo whispered in your ear.
he tugged at your earlobe between his lips before turning you around to push you against the sink and you hissed when your body hit the cold hard marble kind of roughly.
you chuckled, tilting your head to the side to kiss his cheek as you tangled your fingers in his light brown curls, his hands grasping at your slim waist.
"just today?" you whispered back teasingly, looking up at him with a smirk on your red painted lips.
he chuckled lowly, pressing himself against you as he slipped his hands underneath the hem of your dress to run his hands over the smooth skin of your legs slowly, pulling the fabric up just enough to expose a sliver of bare thigh.
"always beautiful, but today... fuck," he muttered, nuzzling his nose against yours; the smell of his cologne filled your nostrils, making you feel light-headed, "this bloody dress is driving me fucking crazy, cara mia."
"i knew you'd love it..." you couldn't help but giggle against his lips, giving gim a chaste peck before pulling back slightly. "i put in on just for you," you murmured, kissing his neck softly; your red lipstick left a faint stain on his flesh.
theodore smirked, his hands sliding up your thighs to cup your bare ass through the laced fabric of your panties.
"you're a fucking tease, do you know that?" he groaned before leaning in to claim your crimson lips in a scorching kiss.
your eyes fluttered shut, your body melting into his arms at the intimate contact, which made you gasp against his eager mouth. your lips brushed together in a mind-blowing dance while you ran your fingers through his soft hair absentmindedly.
theo broke the kiss just a moment later only to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, nipping and sucking at your sensitive skin as his fingers worked to lift your dress higher up, until it was pooling around your waist, his body still pinning you against the sink.
"i need you," he whispered in your ear, his voice thick with desire, "need to fuck you so badly, principessa."
you gasped once again when he pressed his hardening cock against your pelvis, grinding against you in slow motions. you grasped at the sink countertop, your head falling back as he placed wet kisses all the way down to your cleavage.
theo groaned at the sight of your perfect breasts almost spilling out of the neckline of your dress and his hand cupped one of them through the thin fabric, squeezing it tenderly.
"sei bellisima, amore mio," he muttered in italian, his lips pressing against yours hungrily once again. (you're beautiful, my love)
you whimpered into the kiss, feeling your wetness start to pool around in your panties as his thumb toyed with your perky nipple over your clothes until it hardened; your shuddered in his arms.
"theo, please," you stuttered into his lips, words coming out as broken sobs.
theo broke the kiss, his eyes darkening with lust as he looked down at you while his other hand slipped between your legs. his fingers traced along the damp fabric of your panties, feeling how wet you were for him.
"merlin... you're fucking soaked, principessa," he growled, his fingers teasingly brushing against your clit.
you moaned at his action, but quickly nipped at your plump bottom lip to try and hold back any sound that may escape your mouth, not wanting anyone outside the bathroom to hear you... though the thrill of getting caught was indeed turning you on.
theo withdrew his hand and kneeled in front of you, fingers gripping at the waistband of your panties to slid them down your legs while he peppered wet kisses all over your belly and hip bones, slowly moving down.
"we have to make this quick, bella," he whispered, placing one last kiss at your smooth mound as he looked up at you with those deep set eyes of his. "but i promise i'll eat your pretty little pussy later on, yeah?"
the smirk he gave you while he stood up made you weak on your knees. he pulled you into a kiss, hands groping at your thighs and ass cheeks avidly as he practically devoured your mouth —at that point, your red lipstick was smudged all over your faces. he grabbed your wrist to guide your hand towards his crotch and you palmed him delicately, feeling his hard dick twitch at your touch.
theo groaned against your lips, breath hitching in his throat. his hand released your wrist and slid between your legs once more, this time slipping two digits inside of you, gently stretching your tight hole.
"fuck... so wet for me," he whispered against your mouth, teeth tugging at your already swollen bottom lip. "you're fucking dripping onto my fingers, principessa."
his free hand wrapped around your neck, choking you lightly while he moved his digits in and out of you in scissor motions to prepare you for his cock. you gasped for air, letting out a needy cry as you worked to unfasten his belt with shaky hands.
"need your cock, theo... please," you breathed out, cheeks flushed.
theo's hand released your neck, his fingers withdrawing from your pussy to help you slide his pants and boxers down; his throbbing cock sprung free, standing tall against his flat stomach, and your mouth watered at the sight. after that, he grabbed your hips, turning your around and pushing you forward until you were bent over the countertop.
"keep your eyes on me, amore mio," he commanded, his voice rough.
he grasped your hair, tugging at it to pull your head back until your eyes met his on the mirror. his rough grip made you whine and you writhed when you felt the tip of his cock brushing along your slick folds, teasing you.
"theo, please," you whimpered desperately.
he positioned the head of his cock at your entrance, slowly pushing inside while his free hand found purchase at your hip. he groaned loudly, the feeling of your tight heat welcoming him nearly overwhelming.
"so big, oh merlin," you whined at the stretch, letting out a little cry that echoed through the bathroom.
"oh fuck... I love being inside you," he murmured, his eyes piercing yours through the mirror. "che piccola figa così stretta... all fucking mine," he grunted, starting to pound into you. (such a tight little pussy)
you reached to cover your mouth with one of your hands, your palm muting the moans that inevitably left your lips when he began to fuck you against the sink roughly. your other hand gripped at his thigh, your nails digging into his flesh, and you couldn't help but close your eyes tightly, face contorted in pleasure.
he released your hair and his fingers curled around your throat instead, applying light pressure as he groaned; his digits dug into your skin, leaving bright red fingerprints on it.
"look at me while i fuck you," he ordered, forcing you to open your glazed eyes and look at him through the mirror.
his grip tightened on your throat as he slammed his hips against your ass, his cock buried balls deep inside your cunt and hitting all the right spots within you. the mirror reflected his flushed face, hair sticking to his sweaty forehead and eyes locked onto yours as he took what he wanted from you, making a moaning mess out of you; thankfully, your hand covering your mouth muffled the sounds.
"damn it... so fucking tight," he moaned, picking up the pace of his thrusts, "pussy feels so good around my cock." he leaned down, his lips meeting your ear as he whispered his filth into it.
he left a trail of wet, open-mouthed kisses all over your neck while his cock made you see stars, his free hand finding its way between your shaky legs to rub your puffy clit, causing you to squirm.
"you love this, huh?" he taunted, smirking against your flesh, "you love it when i'm rough with you, don't you, principessa?"
his hand slid up from your neck to grab your hand and pull it away from your mouth, pinning it behind your back, so that you could answer him. though you struggled to do it; the way he was rocking his hips caused his cock to rub against your g-spot with every single thrust, making you feel like your insides were being torn apart in the best way possible.
"hmm, yeah," you cried out in response, "love it when you fuck me hard."
his lips captured yours again and your walls clenched around him as you moaned into his lips, the kiss muting the sounds of your pleasure. you felt the coil in your belly tightening and your clit pulsed underneath his fingertips, signaling your impending orgasm. he broke the kiss, his eyes dark and hungry as he looked down at you.
"you close, bella? he panted, slapping your ass hard enough to sting.
you nodded in response, blubbering incoherent words, unable to form any sentence as he ruined your cunt.
"that's it, baby... cum for me," he grunted, pushing deeper and harder, the sink creaking due to his harsh thrusts. "i want to see your pretty eyes roll back into your head when you cum on my cock."
his filthy words triggered your orgasm.
he watched with satisfaction as your eyes indeed rolled back, your back arching and nails digging into your skin as you covered your mouth once again, trying to silence the moans and cries that slipped from your lips.
"such a mess... so fucking beautiful," he praised.
he bit down softly on his lip before letting out a rough, guttural groan, the feeling of your cunt engulfing his cock too much for him too handle.
"i'm gonna cum inside you," he warned, "gonna breed this tight little pussy, amore."
you let out a whiny moan, your breathing coming out in sharp pants as your walls clamped around his cock in response to his dirty words.
"you want that, huh?" he mocked you, his hand grasping and pulling at your hair to push you back onto his chest. "want me to make you pregnant with my fucking child?"
"yeah," you whimpered pathetically, "want to carry your child, theodore nott."
"fuck," he cursed, letting out a long, low moan as he unloaded his cum inside you, the warm sticky liquid filling your pussy. "buona ragazza," he whispered, wrapping his arms around you to keep you from collapsing. (good girl)
your legs were completely shaky, making it hard for you to stand up, so you supported yourself on the countertop as you felt him pulling out slowly, his cum dripping out of your abused cunt.
he placed sweet kisses over your back and shoulders as you recovered from your orgasm, whispering soothing things to you while he grabbed his wand to mutter a cleansing spell and get you both all cleaned up.
after composing yourselves, the both of you walked out of the bathroom quietly to not grab any undesired attention, unluckily, pansy parkinson was waiting out of the bathroom, arms crossed and smug grin tugging at her lips; you blushed.
"finally," she claimed, laughing, "you two had fun in there?"
"shut up, parkinson!" theo shouted, grabbing your hand and hurriedly guiding you outside of the three broomsticks.
'we sure as hell did, pansy', you thought as you both walked away.
#♡ ;; theosbaby#theodore nott scenarios#theodore nott x you#theo nott smut#theodore nott x reader#theodore nott smut#theo nott#theodore nott#theodore nott x y/n#slytherin#slytherin boys#hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry#harry potter#lorenzo zurzolo#theodore nott x slytherin!reader#theo nott x reader#theo nott x you#theo nott x y/n#smut#theo smut#slytherin boys smut#slytherin boys x reader#slytherin boys masterlist
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husband simon "ghost" riley
husband!simon who cried while reading his vows, looking around the venue to see his team cheering for the both of you. They're one of the few people invited from his side of the room, but it was all the family he had and needed.
husband!simon who feels like he waited for this moment his whole life, the moment you finally said yes, giving yourself to him fully. Wearing the fanciest piece of clothing he ever had, saying the most important words he ever did, standing right beside you was a dream come true.
husband!simon who wouldn't drink a lot during your party, just admiring the view of you dancing and being so happy for him, with him. Especially enjoys when Kyle and Johnny stumble upon you and chuckle, pushing you towards the dance floor, having the time of their lives at the wedding of their favorite couple.
husband!simon who would take secret pictures of you, especially if you fall asleep amongst some guests. Head on Price's shoulder, Kyle's lap, or tangled up with Johnny on the couch in the hallway of the venue. He'll definitely torment you with them later, especially since you didn't really have a chance to get back at him as he has a spider-like sense for cameras and quickly avoids them.
husband!simon who's the happiest man alive beside you and would do absolutely anything to make you happy too. Acts of service are his favorite way to show you his love, especially when he's back from deployment for some time. Doing most chores and bringing you hot tea every morning,
husband!simon who spends as much time with you as he can, usually at home where he can just pull you close without caring for others. Grabbing your hips while you wash the dishes or pulling your waist when you try to get out of bed are a must.
husband!simon who just can't resist you, thinking about you all the time. Being far or close doesn't matter, you're on his mind 24/7. You can sleep beside him or be a thousand kilometers away, he's still thinking about you. If he can't see your face in the morning, he'd just imagine it with a smile on his face.
husband!simon who attends therapy regularly so he can be a better version of himself for the both of you. Especially if you're planning to make your little family a bigger one.
husband!simon who suffers from sleepless nights whenever you argue. He can't just fall asleep when you've just argued, so in most cases, he occupies his mind by cleaning the entire house or filling in some missing reports.
husband!simon who gets his stuff after the argument and gets ready to sleep on the couch, only to smirk when you enter the living room and make him come back to bed. You can't sleep without him as much as he can't without you. Yeah, you may not talk, but his arm will find its' way around your waist as you fall asleep.
husband!simon's favorite way to make up after an argument is waking you up with his arms around your frame and soothing apologies spilling from his lips. He loves the way you immediately pull him closer and comply, adding your own apologies to the mix.
husband!simon who is too old to care about morning breath, if you don't mind, he'll put a thousand kisses all over your face at any time of the day, especially to wake you up.
husband!simon who brags about you to his mates and won't shut up even if they complain. That's the price they pay after begging him to get to know more about his secret little love before.
husband!simon doesn't care about the money, because let's face it —he's got tons of it and will gladly spend it on you. Buys you secret gifts that he hides around the house before deployment, so you don't miss him too much.
husband!simon leaves the room whenever you call him. Your conversations are sacred, no matter how much his team wants to say hello, it's your time. They can call you themselves if they are so interested.
husband!simon who becomes a handyman as soon as you ask for anything. Your shelf is not leveled properly, and the sink is broken? Don't worry, love, he'll take care of it.
husband!simon who watches lots of documentaries with you in your free time. Also, secretly enjoys cooking shows and even more secretly — makeover TV shows. Especially the ones where they turn alternative-looking people into some normies, and loves to complain that they rip them off all their personalities.
husband!simon will get a matching tattoo with you. Probably already has some that remind him of you.
husband!simon who becomes very conversational, something you wouldn't expect the day you two meet. If you finally let him open up, he's yapping all the time with you, just rambles about all the little things that are on his mind.
husband!simon who very much enjoys those conversations while you two have sex, makes it even more sweet and domestic in his mind. Most of the time, you two talk about plans for the day or random chores that you need to finish while he pounds into you, making you both giggle and out of breath.
husband!simon definitely changes his tone around you. When Johnny heard that for the first time, his jaw dropped at the soft way he talked to you.
husband!simon who does everything in his power to protect you. The address he doesn't share with anyone, burner phones to contact you while being deployed, highest quality security. Most of the time uses nicknames instead of your name when in public, and probably one or two guard dogs that are y'alls most-loved pets (he pretends not to see how you spoil them while he's gone).
husband!simon who takes you on nice vacations whenever he can to make up for the time you two lost while he was deployed.
husband!simon who cannot see his future without you, you're stuck with him for eternity.
masterlist | request info
#riri writes#ghost x reader#simon riley#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley#cod mwii#cod mw2#gender neutral reader#cod#cod mwiii#simon ghost riley cod#ghost cod#headcanons#hcs
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I PUT A SPELL ON YOU.
Hyunjin x reader. (s,a)
Synopsis: New to the company, you're determined to prove yourself even if it means competing against Hyunjin, your arrogant and hostile rival. But when your ambition pushes you toward using a spell to sway the odds in your favor, you find yourself caught between power and love. (15,9k words)
Author's note: Indulged myself by toying with Hyunjin with some magick in this fic. Happy Halloween, witches!
🎧 I PUT A SPELL ON YOU Playlist
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Neither the story, the characters nor the spells are real (but if it works, do tell me though!)
“With fire in my veins and steel in my spine. Today the world bends, and all power is mine.”
The words slip from your lips like a quiet command, filling the room as you light the small candle on your vanity. Its flame flickers in the dim light of the early morning, casting soft shadows across your reflection.
You watch the fire dance as you crush the herbs between your fingers, feeling the energy settle into your bones with each breath. You repeat the mantra, slower this time, letting it sink into your very core. “Today the world bends, and all power is mine.”
It feels like a promise—one you fully intend to keep.
The scent of lavender and sage rises as you sprinkle the herbs into a dish, swirling the smoke in the air. You close your eyes and let your fingers trace the edge of your almanac, waiting for its familiar warmth to guide you. When you flip to today’s date, the message is clear: wear something red.
You open your wardrobe, pulling out the deep crimson blouse that almost seems to glow under the morning light. Red for confidence, for strength. Exactly what you’ll need for today.
As you slip it on, you can already feel the shift. Power hums in the air around you, and your reflection in the mirror sharpens, the red drawing out the determination in your eyes.
The meeting ahead is important, but you don’t yet know just how much the day will reveal. Still, you trust your instincts—and your rituals. They haven’t failed you yet. You blow out the candle, the smoke rising in delicate wisps as you stand tall.
One last look in the mirror, and you’re ready. Your mantra echoes in your mind as you step out the door, each word a steady beat in time with your footsteps.
Today, the world will bend.
-
The conference room buzzes with quiet conversation as everyone settles into their seats. You stand at the head of the table, your hands resting confidently on the smooth surface in front of you. The energy you built this morning pulses beneath your skin, steady and strong. You’re ready.
Out of the corner of your eye, you spot Hyunjin, casually leaning back in his chair as though he already owns the room. You’ve disliked him from the first time you met him—something about his aloof demeanor, the way he carries himself like he’s always two steps ahead of everyone else. His attitude grates on you, but what really gets under your skin is the way he looks down on you, constantly dismissing your ideas and diminishing your work in front of others.
It’s like a game to him—cutting you down just as you’re about to make a point, always with that slight smirk like he’s amused by your attempts to be taken seriously. His work ethic is just as frustrating; he’s undeniably skilled, but he puts in the bare minimum, skating by on charm and reputation. Yet somehow, he’s respected, and you can’t deny that his presence at the company casts a long shadow.
Taking a breath, you begin your presentation. “As you can see, this project will not only streamline our current workflow but also cut costs by nearly 15% in the first quarter alone. The long-term benefits will put us ahead of our competitors in—”
“That’s optimistic,” Hyunjin’s voice cuts through the room like a cold wind.
He leans back in his chair, arms crossed, his sharp gaze fixed on you. “You really think a 15% cost reduction is realistic with the current resources we have?”
You maintain your composure, turning to face him directly. “Yes, I do,” you reply smoothly. “With the proper allocation of assets and a focus on efficient labor, it’s more than achievable.”
Hyunjin scoffs under his breath, loud enough for everyone to hear. “Efficient labor? So, you’re suggesting we push the current team even harder? That’s a quick way to burn everyone out, don’t you think?”
You feel the familiar prickle of frustration, but you keep your voice even. “Not harder—smarter. We can shift responsibilities and use automation in key areas to reduce manual tasks.”
Hyunjin doesn’t back down, his tone almost condescending. “Sure, but that’s easier said than done. You’re new here, maybe you don’t realize how complicated things actually are in practice. These aren’t numbers on a spreadsheet. This is reality.”
The room goes still, the weight of his words settling over the meeting like a cloud. You meet his gaze head-on, refusing to let him intimidate you. “I’m well aware of the complexities, Hyunjin. That’s why this proposal is focused on practical steps, not just theory. I’ve spent weeks analyzing the data and tailoring this plan specifically to address the challenges we face.”
He opens his mouth to respond, but before he can get another word in, one of the senior executives clears his throat, shifting in his chair.
“Let’s hear the rest of the proposal,” he says, nodding in your direction. “I’m interested in seeing how this plays out.”
You offer a polite smile and return to your presentation, feeling Hyunjin’s eyes on you the entire time. You know he’s not finished yet.
But neither are you.
-
The meeting ends smoothly enough, despite Hyunjin's interruptions. As everyone filters out of the conference room, you begin gathering your materials, ready to head back to your desk when a voice stops you.
“Could you and Hyunjin come to my office for a moment?” The senior executive, Mr. Campbell’s tone is firm, leaving no room for negotiation.
You exchange a quick glance with Hyunjin, who only raises an eyebrow in response. His expression is unreadable, but you can feel the shift in the air—the weight of something important about to happen. You follow the executive down the hall, Hyunjin walking beside you in silence.
The office is spacious, lined with awards and framed company accomplishments. Your superior gestures for both of you to sit before taking a seat behind his large mahogany desk. He steeples his fingers, his gaze flicking between the two of you.
“I’ll get straight to the point,” he says. “There’s a vacancy for a high-ranking position that’s going to be announced later this week. We’ve been watching both of you closely, and I wanted to inform you first that you’re the top two candidates for this role.”
Your heart skips a beat, but you manage to keep your face neutral. This is huge—exactly the kind of opportunity you’ve been working toward. But as you glance at Hyunjin, you can already feel the tension building. His jaw tightens slightly, though his expression remains as unreadable as ever.
“The final decision will be based on your upcoming performances,” the executive continues. “I expect you both to bring your A-game. This is a competitive process, and we’ll be monitoring everything closely. May the best candidate win.”
You nod, thanking him for the opportunity, and rise from your seat. Hyunjin follows you out of the office, his silence lingering until the door clicks shut behind you. As soon as you step into the hallway, his demeanor shifts.
“So, this is what you were after all along,” he says, his voice low and edged with disdain. “You’ve barely been here a few months, and now you think you deserve this position?” He scoffs, his eyes narrowing. “You must be really full of yourself if you think you can beat me. I’ve been here far longer, and trust me, no amount of numbers on a spreadsheet is going to change that.”
You feel a sharp sting in your chest, but you refuse to let it show. His words are meant to break your spirit, to make you doubt yourself. But you won’t give him the satisfaction.
“Maybe,” you reply, your voice steady. “But if this company values talent over seniority, then I like my chances.”
His lips curl into a condescending smile. “You’re really naive if you think that’s all it takes. You don’t know how things work here.” He steps closer, his eyes dark with hostility. “You’re out of your league, and once you fall on your face, don’t expect me to help you back up.”
His words hang heavy in the air, the venom in his tone unmistakable. But instead of shrinking under his gaze, you feel the fire rise in you—the same fire that fueled you through your morning ritual.
“We’ll see,” you say quietly, holding his stare. “I’ve survived worse.”
Hyunjin lets out a cold laugh before turning on his heel and walking away. His retreating figure is a reminder of the uphill battle ahead, but you stand firm, determined not to let him shake you. If anything, his hostility has only made your resolve stronger.
As he disappears around the corner, you take a deep breath, silently repeating the mantra that’s carried you through the day so far.
"Today, the world bends, and all power is mine."
-
The day began just like any other, with you sitting at your vanity, surrounded by the soft glow of morning light filtering through the window. The familiar scent of herbs lingered in the air from the small candles you’d lit, their flames dancing in time with your whispered words. You opened your well-worn almanac, fingers tracing over the delicate pages until you landed on today’s entry.
“Beware of the one who blocks your path to success,” it read in bold, almost ominous text.
A knowing smirk tugged at the corners of your lips. You didn’t need the stars to tell you who that was.
There was only one person in your way—Hyunjin.
The office buzzes with its usual hum of activity as you make your way down the hall toward your superior’s office. Today is important—a follow-up meeting regarding the project you proposed yesterday. You’ve spent the last few hours refining the details, ensuring that every aspect is airtight.
As you approach the door, your steps falter slightly when you see it cracked open. Through the small gap, you spot Hyunjin, casually leaning against your superior’s desk, wearing that same self-assured smirk. He’s laughing at something, his tone light, too friendly.
Of course, Hyunjin is here. What a joy!
You pause just outside the door, watching as Hyunjin straightens up and extends a hand to shake your superior’s. His easy charm is on full display, and it’s clear he’s not just discussing work—he’s playing the game, trying to get in his good graces. Sucking up, as usual.
Hyunjin turns to leave, and that’s when he spots you standing in the hallway. His gaze lingers on you for a moment before his lips curl into a mocking grin. It’s the kind of smile that speaks volumes without a word—he thinks he’s already won, that you’re wasting your time even being here. As he saunters past, he doesn’t bother hiding the look of satisfaction on his face.
“Good luck in there,” he murmurs as he brushes past you, his voice dripping with condescension.
You hold your ground, refusing to let him get under your skin, but the heat rises in your chest. He’s playing dirty, and he wants you to know it. You can feel the smugness radiating off him as he disappears down the hall, but you won’t let him see you falter.
Taking a deep breath, you knock on the door and step into your superior’s office, trying to push the encounter from your mind. There’s work to be done.
Your superior glances up from his desk, offering you a polite nod. “Ah, there you are. Come in. Let’s hear how the project’s progressing.”
You straighten your posture, clearing your mind of Hyunjin’s arrogant grin. This is your moment, not his.
“I’ve made some adjustments based on our discussion yesterday,” you say confidently, handing over the updated report. “I’m confident these changes will address the concerns raised and improve overall feasibility.”
As he flips through the report, you remain focused, determined to show that you’re not just capable—you’re the best candidate for that position. Hyunjin may think he can charm his way into the role, but you’ll let your work speak for itself.
-
As the day winds down and you gather your things to leave the office, your mind lingers on the undeniable presence of Hyunjin in the workplace. There’s no denying his stunning appearance—sharp jawline, dark, intense eyes, and a physique that seems almost unfairly perfect. You’ve overheard enough conversations in the break room to know that half the women in the office can’t help but swoon when he walks by. His smile alone is enough to make them forget his sharp words and ruthless behavior.
But you know better.
His good looks are nothing more than a mask—a distraction from the truth beneath the surface. He’s charming, sure, but it’s a hollow charm, one that hides his low attitude and arrogance. He uses that exterior to get what he wants, and it works. It always works. You’ve seen it happen too many times—people falling for his act, completely oblivious to the venom that lies just beneath the surface.
The elevator doors ding open, and as you step inside, you’re immediately greeted by the sight of Hyunjin. He’s standing near the back, casually leaning against the wall with a girl by his side, one of the junior employees who’s practically hanging on his every word. His hand brushes lightly against her arm, and she giggles at something he says, her eyes wide with adoration. You resist the urge to roll your eyes.
Typical.
Hyunjin doesn’t even acknowledge your presence as you step into the elevator, his focus entirely on the girl. He’s all smiles and flirty comments, leaning closer to her as if the rest of the world doesn’t exist. Meanwhile, you stay quiet, standing in the opposite corner, watching the entire display unfold. It’s sickening, really—how easily he can turn it on and off, like a switch. And the girl, clearly oblivious to his true nature, laps it all up.
As you stand in the elevator, that earlier warning from the almanac feels more present than ever. Of course, Hyunjin has found his way into your path again, trying to overshadow you with his presence. You watch him now, flirting effortlessly with the girl at his side, but your mind linger on the almanac's words. It's as if the universe has planned this moment—Hyunjin, here, in your way yet again.
When the elevator finally reaches the parking basement, the doors slide open, and Hyunjin steps out with the girl still by his side. You follow a few steps behind, trying to ignore the gnawing irritation bubbling in your chest.
“Wait here,” Hyunjin says to the girl, flashing her a smile that makes her cheeks flush. She nods eagerly, waiting near his sleek black car.
As you walk past, hoping to leave without another encounter, Hyunjin’s voice stops you in your tracks.
“Going somewhere?” His tone is smooth, but laced with that familiar edge of condescension.
You pause, turning slowly to face him. His expression is smug, as if he’s enjoying every second of this.
“I have somewhere to be, Hyunjin,” you say flatly, already tired of the exchange.
He steps closer, his gaze narrowing slightly as he looks down at you. “You know, you should really think about backing off while you still can. This position? It’s not for you.” His voice drops, dripping with mock concern. “You don’t have what it takes to compete with someone like me.”
His words are meant to sting, and they do—but not in the way he expects. They only fuel your determination, solidifying the decision you’ve already made.
“I guess we’ll see about that,” you reply coldly, refusing to let him rattle you.
Hyunjin’s lips curl into a sneer, and for a brief moment, you can see the hostility beneath the charming exterior he puts on for the others. He pops the gum he’s been chewing out of his mouth and spits it carelessly on the ground near your feet, giving you a final, disdainful look.
“See you around,” he mutters before turning away, walking back to the girl who’s waiting by his car, completely dismissing you.
You stand there for a moment, watching as he leans casually against his car, resuming his flirtations with the girl. Your fingers curl into a fist at your side, and you glance down at the gum he spat out.
Something inside you snaps. You can’t take any more of this.
Without a second thought, you crouch down and pick up the discarded gum, wrapping it in a tissue and slipping it into your bag. There’s a plan forming in your mind, but you’re not ready to think about it yet.
All you know is that Hyunjin’s going to regret crossing you, one way or another.
-
It’s the perfect night to cast a spell and the waxing moon is great for increasing and bringing in things.
The flickering candlelight casts shadows against the walls, filling the room with a sense of mystery. On your desk lies the worn book of spells, its pages marked and folded from use.
Tonight, it’s time to change things.
Hyunjin’s gum—the one he spat out so arrogantly earlier—sits in a tissue beside you. It’s a small token, but it holds enough of his essence for the spell. His arrogance, his condescending behavior, all captured in that one careless act.
You gather the rest of the ingredients, placing them carefully on the table:
Lavender petals: for calmness, to ease his aggression and soften his temper.
Chamomile leaves: to create peace between the two of you and to cleanse away his negativity.
Honey: to sweeten his attitude, to turn his harshness into something kinder.
A strand of your hair: to ensure the spell keeps him from acting against you.
Finally, you add the gum, the key to linking the spell to Hyunjin. You position the ingredients around a white candle, symbolizing clarity and transformation, and light it. The flame flickers brightly, and the atmosphere in the room begins to shift, the energy growing heavier, more focused.
With everything set, you hover over the book of spells, reading the words aloud in a low, steady voice:
"By this gum of arrogance and thorn of strife, I turn your heart from scorn to life.
By lavender's calm and honey's grace, let kindness bloom in every space."
You sprinkle the lavender petals and chamomile leaves over the gum, watching them fall like whispers of peace onto the small token. Your hair and the honey are next, binding the spell with your own energy and a touch of sweetness.
"No longer shall you wound with word, your bitterness no more heard.
From this day forth, your spirit will mend, a decent heart you shall extend."
The candle’s flame flickers, the air growing warmer as the spell settles into the room. You feel the shift, the moment the magic takes hold. Hyunjin’s biting words, his sharp demeanor—they’ll change. The spell will soften him, make him the kind of person who no longer seeks to diminish you or others.
A quiet smile touches your lips. The spell is complete, and you know its effect will be permanent. Tomorrow, the tides will begin to turn. He’ll change, and in time, perhaps the world will see him differently. But you—you’ll know why.
With the spell done, you blow out the candle, the smoke curling into the air like the last breath of tension leaving your space. You feel lighter, more in control.
For a moment, you allow yourself to feel the quiet thrill of victory. But this is just the beginning. The almanac has been right—someone is standing in your way, but now you are removing that obstacle, one spell at a time.
-
The next day at the office feels like any other.
The buzz of conversations, the soft hum of printers, and the click of keyboards fill the air. You go about your morning routine with a steady resolve, eyes catching Hyunjin briefly in the hallway. He walks past, offering nothing but his usual unreadable expression. No smirks, no scoffs, nothing out of the ordinary.
For a moment, you wonder if the spell worked. Maybe it wasn’t strong enough, maybe his attitude is just too deeply ingrained. But you brush the thought aside, knowing that change takes time.
The meeting arrives before you expect it. As you take your seat, you notice Hyunjin already sitting across the table, his eyes focused on the papers in front of him. There’s no dismissive glance, no thinly veiled sneer like there usually is when you walk into the room. You push down the flicker of hope and focus on the task at hand.
Today, you're presenting your revised project, the one you've poured your energy into perfecting after last time. With calm confidence, you begin walking through the slides, laying out the details and improvements with precision.
Everything is going smoothly. The board members listen intently, a few of them nodding in agreement as you go over the main points. But then, out of the corner of your eye, you catch Hyunjin shifting in his seat. Your stomach tightens. You know what’s coming. He always finds something to undermine, always has a sharp comment ready to tear down your work.
You glance his way as you near the end of your presentation, half-expecting him to cut in, but he doesn’t. No interruptions. No dismissive interjections. You continue, slightly thrown but determined to finish strong.
As you wrap up, the room falls silent. You know it’s time for feedback, and just as you're preparing for the usual barrage of critique, Hyunjin raises his hand.
This is it. He’s going to tear your project apart, find something trivial to pick at in front of everyone.
But instead, Hyunjin speaks calmly, his voice steady, almost considerate. "I just want to say," he begins, "this is a solid project. The revisions make it stronger, and I think it could be really beneficial for the company."
You blink, stunned. Did he just… compliment you?
For a second, you can’t quite believe what you’re hearing. You expect a catch, a hidden jab somewhere in his words, but there’s none. His expression is neutral—serious even. The room murmurs in agreement, the board looking impressed by his input.
And that’s when it hits you. The spell worked.
The shift in the room feels surreal. Hyunjin, the one who usually thrives on belittling your work, is praising it instead. You force yourself to remain composed, nodding politely as the meeting concludes. But inside, a sense of triumph is rising.
As everyone begins to gather their things, your gaze lingers on Hyunjin. He stands, collects his notes, and walks out without another word.
A small, victorious smile pulls at the corner of your lips. You did it. The spell worked perfectly and this is only the beginning.
-
The days that follow feel different—lighter, easier. There’s no tension bubbling beneath the surface when you walk into meetings, no second-guessing whether you’ll be cut off mid-sentence. Hyunjin’s sharp words have disappeared, replaced by a silence that almost feels like respect. For the first time since you started at the company, you feel like you can breathe.
It’s strange, almost surreal, watching Hyunjin go about his day without a trace of his old attitude. The way he treats others has changed, too. No more dismissive remarks or smug glances in the hallways. He’s... decent. Civil, even.
And the best part? You’re responsible for it. That thought alone brings a sense of satisfaction each time you cross paths with him.
It’s mid-afternoon when you’re in your office, sorting through emails and papers scattered across your desk, when you hear a soft knock at the door. You glance up, surprised to see Hyunjin standing there, leaning casually against the doorframe. He’s not scowling or sneering like he used to—instead, there’s something almost playful in his expression.
“Got a minute?” he asks, and without waiting for a response, he steps inside, closing the door behind him.
You don’t say anything at first, just watch as he moves closer, stopping at your desk. He picks up your pen, twirling it between his fingers with a lazy, practiced ease, and leans against the edge of your desk, his body language relaxed and confident. A smile tugs at his lips—one of those flirty, boyish smiles that makes you wonder how this is the same man who used to make your work life hell.
“I wanted to say I’m sorry,” he begins, glancing down at the pen he’s still playing with before looking back at you. “For how I’ve been... you know, before. I wasn’t exactly nice.”
It’s an understatement, but you don’t point that out. Instead, you tilt your head, studying him. His tone is genuine, his eyes softened in a way that makes it hard to reconcile this version of Hyunjin with the one from just a week ago.
“Thanks,” you reply, keeping your voice steady.
Inside, though, there’s a thrill that courses through you. The spell is working better than you could have hoped. Not only has his attitude changed, but he’s... charming. And somehow, knowing that you’re the one responsible for this transformation makes him even more appealing.
Hyunjin sets the pen down and straightens up slightly, still leaning close enough to your desk that there’s a noticeable intimacy in the space between you.
“I’m having a party this weekend,” he says, his voice dropping to something a bit more personal. “For my birthday. I was thinking maybe you could come? We could... start over, you know? Clear the slate.”
There’s a playful lilt to his words, and the smile he gives you—genuine, flirtatious, and more than a little tempting—makes it hard to say no.
You pause, pretending to think it over, though the answer is already on the tip of your tongue. Part of you is drawn to this new Hyunjin, this man who stands before you with easy confidence and charm. But more than that, there’s a secret satisfaction in knowing that you’ve shaped him into this. He’s the product of your power, your spell, and now he’s the one extending an olive branch.
“Alright,” you say finally, giving him a small smile of your own. “I’ll be there.”
His grin widens, a mix of relief and something else—something almost victorious—as he pushes himself off your desk and heads for the door. “Great. I’ll see you there, then.”
And just like that, he’s gone, leaving your office with a soft click of the door. You sit there for a moment, still processing the interaction, the way his smile lingered in the air after he left.
As you turn back to your work, there’s a warmth that spreads through you. This new version of Hyunjin is more than just tolerable—he’s almost magnetic. And knowing that you hold the strings to this transformation? That’s what makes it all the more intoxicating.
-
The almanac had been clear—tonight, you were to wear black. A color of power and mystery, it would amplify your presence, drawing attention without you even needing to ask for it. The reflection that stares back at you feels different from your usual self; there’s something more commanding in the way you look, as if the energy of the spell is already settling into your bones.
Your fingers hover over a necklace before picking it up, the cool metal brushing against your skin as you clasp it around your neck. It’s the final touch, and now it’s time to finish the ritual. You take a deep breath, closing your eyes, and murmur the words of the spell you’ve prepared for the night.
"By the light of the stars and shadows of the moon. Let my aura bloom and hearts swoon.
Let the eyes that see be drawn to me. And in their gaze, I’ll hold the key."
The words roll off your tongue, soft and smooth, filling the air around you. You can almost feel the shift in the atmosphere as the spell takes hold, as if the room itself bends to acknowledge the shift in your energy.
When you open your eyes again, your reflection almost seems to shimmer in the low light, your aura radiating confidence and allure. You smile, knowing the spell will work.
With one last glance at yourself, you grab your bag and head out the door.
-
The party is already in full swing by the time you arrive. The music pulses through the air, the hum of laughter and conversation mingling in a heady mix.
It’s easy to spot Hyunjin—he stands out effortlessly, even in a crowded room. Dressed in a crisp white button-down that contrasts sharply with his dark jeans, the fabric clings to his frame in all the right places. The sleeves are rolled up just below his elbows, revealing his toned forearms, and a thin silver chain glints against his collarbone, catching the light every time he moves. His hair, perfectly styled, falls slightly into his eyes, giving him a disheveled yet polished look that only adds to his magnetic charm.
Hyunjin is the center of attention, as always.
There’s something about the way he moves, all confidence and ease, like he’s completely aware of how good he looks and the effect it has on everyone around him. But tonight, you’re not intimidated by his presence. You’ve come prepared, more than equipped to handle the night.
As you make your way through the crowd, you catch Hyunjin’s eye. His gaze locks on you, and for the first time, it feels like he truly sees you. His eyes roam from your face down to your dress and back up again, taking in every detail of your appearance.
There’s a flicker of surprise in his expression before it shifts into something else—something more flirtatious. He saunters over to you, drink in hand, his lips curling into that familiar, boyish grin.
“You made it,” he says, his voice smooth, and he offers you the glass. “Here, have a drink.”
You accept it, letting your fingers brush against his as you take the glass. The brief touch sends a spark through you, though you keep your face calm.
“Of course. Wouldn’t miss it,” you reply, your tone light but with an edge of confidence. You can see the way his eyes linger on you, his usual cockiness tempered by something else—a genuine appreciation of the way you look tonight.
He steps a little closer, his voice dropping lower. “You look… different tonight. In a good way.”
You smile, meeting his gaze without flinching. “I could say the same about you.”
The tension between you is palpable now, his flirty demeanor mixed with a new kind of curiosity. But just as you feel the moment tightening between you, the night shifts. Someone calls his name from across the room, and with an apologetic smile, Hyunjin excuses himself.
“I’ll catch up with you later,” he says, before disappearing back into the crowd.
Later, you find yourself lingering near the edge of the room, sipping on your drink and watching the party unfold. You’ve had a few conversations here and there, exchanged a few pleasantries, but your eyes keep drifting back to Hyunjin.
However, there’s something that twists uncomfortably in your chest when you spot him across the room, laughing and dancing with someone else. She’s pretty, of course, all smiles and soft touches as she dances close to him. He’s leaning into it, laughing with her, his hand resting on her waist, and for some reason, it feels... unfair. You’re the one who changed him, who made him this version of himself that’s drawing people in. And yet, here he is, giving his attention to someone else.
You watch them for a moment longer, feeling a flicker of something dark and possessive tug at the edges of your thoughts.
It wasn’t supposed to bother you, seeing him like this—after all, your goal was never romantic. And yet, there’s an undeniable sting in knowing that someone else is reaping the rewards of the spell you cast. You grip your glass tighter, eyes narrowing slightly as the music thrums on, louder in your ears now.
It’s not jealousy, you tell yourself. It’s control. You made this happen, and he should be yours to manage—not hers.
But as you stand there, the realization settles uncomfortably in your mind—tonight’s spell wasn’t enough. You’ve managed to blend in, to attract a few glances, but Hyunjin... Hyunjin’s attention is still scattered, still caught up in everything else but you. It stings more than you care to admit, watching him charm someone else so easily, so effortlessly, while you stand on the sidelines.
As he laughs with the girl, you take a sip of your drink, silently vowing that the next time, you’ll make sure he sees you. Because tonight’s spell isn’t enough— maybe it is for everyone else, but not for Hyunjin.
-
The nights have become your sacred time, and every evening, you follow the ritual laid out in the pages of the witchcraft book.
Standing naked beneath the pale moonlight, you let it bathe your skin, a soft glow that you imagine sinking deep into your pores. The night air is cool, crisp against your bare skin as you lift your hands to the sky, eyes closed, repeating the words that you’ve come to memorize.
"Moonlight, grant me your grace and beauty. Let my aura shine with endless clarity.
Let their eyes linger, their hearts bend. And in my light, their admiration send."
Each night, you let the moonlight cleanse you, as if it’s washing away any imperfections, any remnants of invisibility. The spell takes days to weave its magic, but you can feel it slowly starting to work.
Each morning, you add a new mantra to your routine, a chant whispered with the dawn, meant to wrap your aura in allure and desirability.
"With every step I take, they’ll see me.
With every breath I draw, they’ll want me.
Let their gaze never stray. Let my beauty lead the way."
The ritual is precise, meticulous, and you’re patient as you wait for the results. You don’t want Hyunjin’s attention in a fleeting way—you want it anchored to you, undeniable, a pull he can’t resist. It takes time, but you start to notice subtle changes. The lingering gazes in the hallway, the way people stop mid-conversation when you walk by. It’s working.
And then, one day, it happens.
You’re on your way down to the lobby after a long day when the elevator doors open, and Hyunjin steps in. For a moment, your heart skips a beat, but you compose yourself, standing straighter.
The doors close, and there’s a brief silence as the elevator descends.
“Hey,” Hyunjin says casually, leaning against the wall, his eyes flicking toward you. “How’s your day been?”
You glance at him, careful to keep your expression neutral, even as your pulse quickens. “Busy,” you reply. “But good. Yours?”
“Same,” he says with a shrug, his voice relaxed. “Meetings, deadlines, the usual stuff. But, you know, the week’s almost over.” He smiles slightly, and for a moment, his eyes linger on you in a way that feels... different. More attentive.
There’s a brief pause before he speaks again, his tone a little more playful this time. “Got any plans for Friday night?”
You feel your breath catch for a second, but you don’t let it show. Instead, you lie smoothly, “I actually have plans with someone else.”
The words come out easily, but you’re not sure why you feel the need to say it. Perhaps it’s a reflex, a way to gauge his reaction.
Hyunjin raises an eyebrow, but the easy smile doesn’t falter. “Is that so? Well, in case you change your mind,” he says, his tone almost teasing, “I’ll be at The Velvet Room with some friends. You know, just in case your plans... fall through.”
The elevator dings as it reaches the ground floor, and the doors slide open. Hyunjin steps out first, giving you one last glance over his shoulder.
“See you around,” he says with a wink, before disappearing into the crowd.
-
There’s something magnetic about the idea of seeing Hyunjin again in a different setting, where the rules of the office don’t apply.
You dress carefully, choosing an outfit that compliments the aura you’ve been building. The almanac suggests wearing silver tonight—another color of power, elegance, and mystique. You glance at your reflection, satisfied with the way the fabric drapes perfectly, enhancing the effect of the spell.
Before leaving, you whisper your mantra once again, letting the words sink in, fortifying your confidence. Then, with one last look in the mirror, you head out the door.
The Velvet Room buzzes with energy, the dim lights casting shadows over the crowd. Hyunjin’s gaze finds yours across the room, and a spark ignites between you, pulling him in your direction. His expression is unreadable, but there's something in the way his eyes hold yours—curiosity, maybe, or something deeper.
He strides toward you, his presence commanding attention as always. His fitted leather jacket hugs his frame perfectly, and the dark shirt underneath emphasizes the sharp lines of his jaw and collarbone.
When he reaches you, the smirk playing on his lips is familiar, but there's something softer behind it tonight.
“I see your plans changed after all,” he says, voice low enough that it sends a shiver down your spine.
“Guess they did,” you reply, keeping your tone light, though your heart races in your chest.
Hyunjin glances around the busy bar before leaning in closer, his breath warm against your ear. “I’ve got a private booth for us. Come with me.”
Without waiting for a response, he takes your hand and leads you through the throng of people, guiding you toward the back of the room. Once you reach the secluded booth, he holds the door open for you, and you step inside, the noise from the bar muffled as the door closes behind you.
Inside, the lighting is softer, more intimate. Hyunjin settles across from you, his long legs stretching out as he leans back comfortably. He orders drinks, and the tension between you crackles in the air, though neither of you addresses it right away.
“So,” he starts, his eyes glinting with mischief, “you’re enjoying your newfound peace at work now that I’ve stopped giving you a hard time?”
You raise an eyebrow at him, swirling the drink in your glass. “You think that’s the only reason I’m enjoying work more?”
Hyunjin chuckles softly, the sound rich and low. “Well, I can’t imagine it’s because of anything else. You’ve hated my guts since day one.”
He’s not wrong, and you don’t bother denying it. “You made it easy,” you reply, lips curving into a smirk of your own. “You were unbearable.”
His smile fades just a touch, replaced by something more genuine. “I’m trying to change that, you know. I owe you an apology for how I’ve been.”
You take a sip of your drink, watching him over the rim of your glass. “What brought this sudden change of heart?”
Hyunjin shrugs, but his gaze never leaves yours. “I don’t know. Maybe I got tired of being an asshole. Maybe it’s... you.”
His words hang in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning. The flirty banter melts into something more charged, more intimate. You lean forward, resting your elbows on the table as you meet his eyes head-on.
“So you’re saying I changed you?” you ask, your voice teasing, but your heart pounds at the truth behind your question.
Hyunjin’s lips curl into that familiar smirk again, but there’s a glint of warmth in his eyes. “Maybe you did.”
The silence stretches between you, but it’s not uncomfortable. It’s thick with anticipation. Hyunjin’s fingers brush the rim of his glass before he sets it aside, leaning forward just enough that the space between you shrinks.
“You know,” he says softly, his voice dropping lower, “I’ve been thinking about this moment for a while now.”
Your pulse quickens, heat rising to your cheeks. “Oh? And what moment is that?”
“This,” he replies simply, before his hand reaches for yours, pulling you gently but firmly toward him.
You’re not sure who moves first, but suddenly, his lips are on yours. The kiss starts soft, exploratory, but it quickly deepens as you lean into him. His hand cups the back of your neck, drawing you closer, and before you know it, you’re sliding over the seat to sit next to him, his body pressed against yours.
The taste of him lingers on your lips—whiskey and something else, something uniquely Hyunjin. His fingers thread through your hair as he tilts your head, his kiss becoming more urgent, more intense. You kiss him back just as eagerly, the heat between you building with every touch, every movement. It’s like the entire room disappears, leaving just the two of you.
You gasp softly when his lips leave yours, trailing down to your jaw and neck. His breath is hot against your skin, sending shivers down your spine.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he murmurs against your neck.
The sound of his voice, low and full of desire, makes your heart race even faster. You pull him back to you, kissing him again with all the pent-up energy you’ve been holding back for so long. His hands grip your waist, pulling you even closer as you straddle his lap, completely lost in the moment.
Everything about him—his touch, his kiss, the way his body moves against yours—feels right. But beneath the surface, something darker stirs within you. The spell has worked, yes, but you realize with every kiss that it isn’t enough.
You want more. You want all of him—his attention, his devotion, his desire—all to yourself. This one night won’t be enough to satisfy you, not when you know you’re the one responsible for this change.
As the night continues and your lips meet his again and again, the thought solidifies in your mind: You need to make sure that Hyunjin’s lips to never touch another lips that aren't yours ever again.
-
The next morning, you walk into the office with a faint buzz of anticipation beneath your skin. After everything that happened at the bar last night—the way Hyunjin kissed you, the heat in his gaze, the way he couldn’t seem to keep his hands off you—you expect something to have shifted between the two of you. Something real, something palpable.
You almost smile when you spot him in the break room, leaning casually against the counter, stirring sugar into his coffee. You slow your steps, bracing yourself for the look you know will be there—the one that says he remembers too, that everything has changed.
But instead, Hyunjin glances up and gives you a polite nod. His expression is calm, his smile... friendly. Nothing more.
"Morning," he says, his tone casual, unaffected. “How’s the project going?”
For a moment, you blink, stunned. That’s it? After what happened last night? You quickly force a smile, swallowing down your disappointment.
“It’s coming along. I’m finalizing the report today.”
He nods, taking a sip of his coffee as if this is just another ordinary morning. “Good to hear. I’m sure it’ll turn out well.”
You stand there, waiting for something else—an acknowledgment, a shift in his body language, anything to show that last night meant something. But he just offers a small smile, glances at the clock, and says, “See you around.”
And just like that, he walks out of the break room, leaving you standing there, stunned.
Your chest tightens with frustration. Hyunjin didn’t seem affected at all. The fire from last night, the way he looked at you like he couldn’t get enough, is gone. He’s back to his composed, distant self, like nothing happened.
You take a shaky breath and grip your coffee cup tighter, watching his retreating figure. The casual indifference in his voice, the polite conversation—it stings. Last night was supposed to mean something, and yet here he is, treating it like a one-off, like you didn’t matter beyond a moment of fleeting desire.
As you head back to your desk, the disappointment festers, but with it comes a fierce determination. Hyunjin might think he can act like that night didn’t change anything, but you’ll make sure it does. You won’t let him act like it meant nothing, like you were just another woman to him.
No, you need to make him see you—and not just for a single night.
By the time you sit at your desk, your resolve hardens. If Hyunjin isn’t going to act differently on his own, you’ll make sure he has no choice. A love spell, intricate and powerful, is the solution. This time, you’ll bind him to you completely.
Tonight, the ritual begins.
-
A love spell is delicate work. It isn’t something to be taken lightly or done in haste. There are many factors that determine its strength and success: the moon cycle, the witch's own power, and, most crucially, the object of your desire. It’s said that to truly bind someone, you need a piece of them—something personal, a thread of their essence. Without it, the spell is only half as effective.
For days, you’ve studied the intricacies of this spell, knowing that one misstep could undo everything. Timing is everything, and with the full moon approaching, the energy in the air feels ripe for magic. You’ve been careful, waiting until the right moment to begin, gathering the necessary items—most importantly, a strand of Hyunjin’s hair.
That night at the bar, when he leaned in close, laughing and brushing against you, you slipped your fingers through his hair, pulling a single strand loose without him noticing. It’s a simple thing, but in the world of witchcraft, it’s enough to make the spell work.
Now, as you prepare for the ritual, that single strand of hair sits coiled in your palm, humming with potential. It’s the final piece that will tip the balance, allowing the magic to flow freely between you and him.
You know the risks—love spells are intricate, and once cast, they cannot easily be undone. But you've come too far to turn back now. Hyunjin is already slipping into your orbit, and tonight, you’ll pull him closer than ever before.
-
Friday – The Initiation
It’s late evening, and the moon is just beginning to wax toward its fullness. You’ve prepared the space carefully—candles of deep crimson and soft pinks flicker around you, casting a warm glow on your altar. In the center, you’ve laid out the key ingredients: a red silk ribbon, Hyunjin’s strand of hair, a piece of rose quartz, and a small vial of honey.
You open your spellbook and find the section on love magic, the words lighting up with power as the candlelight dances over the pages. The instructions are clear—the first night’s ritual is all about opening the path between you and Hyunjin, creating the initial connection that will draw him closer over the weekend.
You tie the red silk ribbon around the rose quartz, knotting it carefully as you whisper the incantation, feeling the magic pulse through your veins.
"With this knot, I begin the tie. From his heart, no love shall fly.
Sweet as honey, strong as flame. Our souls connect, he’ll know my name."
As you chant, you dip the rose quartz into the honey, sealing the first step of the spell. The air hums with energy, and you feel the beginnings of something shifting, like an invisible thread linking you to Hyunjin. The ritual is set in motion, and as you blow out the candles, you know the spell is now out there, working its magic.
-
Saturday – The Strengthening
The second night’s ritual takes place under the waxing gibbous moon, its bright light illuminating your workspace. Tonight, you focus on deepening the connection, strengthening the bond you’ve initiated with Hyunjin. The spell is more intricate, requiring both your intent and personal sacrifice.
You sit before your altar, this time with a red candle burning beside you. The strand of Hyunjin's hair is placed in a silver dish, and next to it, you’ve prepared strands of your own hair and a tiny drop of your own blood—just enough to infuse the spell with your life force.
The spellbook lies open in front of you as you softly chant the next part of the incantation:
"With each strand and drop I give. By his side, I shall live.
Mind to mind, heart to heart. From this bond, we shall not part."
You burn the strand in the dish, the smoke curling upward in a thin trail. The smell is faint but potent, a mix of sweet and bitter that lingers in the air. You watch it rise, and for a moment, you picture Hyunjin—his face, his smile, the way his eyes sparkled when he looked at you at the bar. You know the spell is working; you can feel it building, layer by layer.
When the last of the hair has turned to ash, you sprinkle the strands of hair and a drop of your blood into the ashes, sealing the second part of the ritual. You chant softly, sealing your words into the night.
"Bound by flesh, bound by will. He shall seek me, strong and still.
By the gibbous moon’s bright glow. Love between us shall now grow."
The flames flicker, then extinguish, and you’re left in the stillness of the night, the magic of the second ritual now deep inside you.
-
Sunday – The Final Binding
It’s the night of the full moon, and its silver light bathes the room in a soft, ethereal glow. This is the night the spell will be completed—the most powerful moment, when the moon is at its peak, and all the energy you’ve built over the last two days can finally come together.
You sit outside this time, under the open sky. The spell requires the presence of the full moon, and you’ve gathered the final ingredients—rose petals, lavender, and a small mirror. The rose quartz, still tied with the red ribbon, rests in your lap as you prepare to chant the final spell.
This is the binding part of the ritual, where the connection you’ve created will be sealed, turning Hyunjin’s heart fully toward you.
With the mirror in one hand and the rose quartz in the other, you begin to chant, your voice rising and falling with the rhythm of the moon’s energy.
"By the moon, full and bright. I call upon the power of night.
Mirror of love, reflect his gaze. Draw him near, let passion blaze."
You place the rose petals and lavender into a small bowl, then gently pour water over them. The fragrance fills the air, soft and heady. You dip the mirror into the water, watching as the moon’s reflection shimmers on its surface.
"By this reflection, he shall see. That his heart belongs to me.
No other path, no other way. His love for me will never stray."
You breathe in deeply, feeling the magic swirl around you. The power is undeniable, a force that wraps around your body, pressing in from all sides. You finish the chant, your words barely more than a whisper now.
"Under this moon, my spell takes flight. Bound by love, bound by night.
His heart is mine, this spell is cast. And so our bond shall forever last."
As the final words leave your lips, you press the rose quartz to your heart and hold the mirror up to the full moon. The energy pulses through you, a warm glow that spreads from your chest to the tips of your fingers. You feel it—something has clicked into place, the spell complete.
The night is still, but you know that soon, the magic will have taken hold. Hyunjin will be yours in every way—his heart, his soul, his desire.
And with the moon as your witness, the bond is sealed.
-
Days pass, and the anticipation grows unbearable. You’ve done everything right.
The rituals were precise, the moon was full, and Hyunjin’s hair—the final ingredient—was woven into the spell. But still, no sign. No shift in his behavior. He continues to walk past you in the office with nothing more than a fleeting glance, his attention drifting elsewhere. Doubts start to creep in, and the quiet whispers of failure haunt you.
Did the spell not take? you wonder, replaying every step in your mind.
Then, one evening, when you’re heading to the elevator after work, something shifts.
The air feels thick with tension as you step into the packed elevator. Hyunjin is there, standing toward the back. His presence is palpable, and though the two of you can’t speak with so many people crammed in yet you can feel his gaze burning into the side of your face. Your heart races, but you keep your eyes forward, waiting for something—anything—to happen.
The elevator dings as it reaches the parking basement, and the crowd begins to disperse. You part ways, heading to your car, dismissing the weight of his stare as nothing more than your imagination. You unlock the car, not noticing the quiet footsteps approaching from behind—until a strong hand wraps around your arm and pulls you back.
It’s Hyunjin.
Suddenly, he's spinning you around and pulling you close. His breath is warm against your cheek as he leans in, his voice low and breathless.
“I can't stop thinking about you,” he confesses, his fingers gripping your waist. “All night. You’re all I think about.”
Before you can process his words, his lips are on yours, soft and insistent. The dimly lit, empty parking basement fades away as the intensity of the kiss consumes you both. His hands slide to the small of your back, pulling you flush against him, his touch sending shivers down your spine.
This—this—is the moment you’ve been waiting for. The spell has worked. Hyunjin is yours.
-
The drive to your place feels like an eternity, the tension between you and Hyunjin palpable in the air. His hand rests on your thigh, fingers lightly tracing patterns over your skin, sending sparks through you.
The moment you step inside your apartment, he’s on you, pushing you against the wall, his lips crashing into yours with a hunger that leaves you breathless. His hands slide under your clothes, gripping your waist, pulling you flush against him as his body presses you into the wall.
The heat between you is undeniable, electric, and you can feel how much he wants you—his lips devouring yours, his hands exploring your body with a possessiveness that makes your heart race.
You stumble toward the bedroom, leaving a trail of discarded clothes in your wake. Hyunjin’s shirt is the first to go, revealing the toned muscles of his chest, the lean lines of his body that you’ve only ever admired from a distance. But now, he’s right here, inches from you, and the sight of him sends a thrill through you. You take a moment to drink him in—his sharp jawline, his tousled hair, the way his dark eyes are filled with nothing but want as he looks at you.
His lips crash against yours again as you fall onto the bed, his body covering yours, his weight a welcome sensation. He’s everywhere—his mouth trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, his hands slipping beneath the waistband of your pants, fingers brushing over your skin.
“You’re driving me insane,” he mutters against your neck, his voice low and breathless.
His hands slide lower, tugging at the last of your clothing, and soon you’re bare beneath him, his hands exploring every inch of you as if he can’t get enough.
When he finally sinks into you, the world tilts. It’s overwhelming, the feeling of him inside you, his body moving in perfect rhythm with yours. The way he fills you, the sounds of his breathless moans in your ear, the way he grips your hips as he moves—it’s like everything else fades away, and there’s only this. Only him.
The intensity builds, every touch, every movement pushing you closer to the edge. Hyunjin’s thrusts become more urgent, his breathing ragged, and the sensation of him driving deeper, faster, is almost too much. But it’s exactly what you want—what you need. Your nails dig into his back, pulling him closer, and he groans at the contact, his lips capturing yours in a searing kiss.
When you both finally reach your peak, your body trembles beneath him, and he collapses beside you, his chest heaving, his skin slick with sweat. You lie there, tangled together in the aftermath, your heart pounding, the reality of what just happened sinking in.
Hyunjin lies beside you, his arm draped lazily over your waist, his breath evening out as he recovers. His dark hair is tousled, his lips slightly swollen from kissing, and even in the dim light, his beauty is undeniable. He looks utterly spent but content, and the sight of him like this—bare, vulnerable, entirely yours—sends a wave of satisfaction through you.
You did this. You made this happen. The spell worked, and Hyunjin is yours, completely under your control. The success of the spell isn’t just about having him—it’s about the power you now wield, the realization that your magic is stronger than ever before.
-
The next morning, the sunlight filters softly through your bedroom curtains, casting a warm glow over Hyunjin’s sleeping form. He’s lying on his side, his chest rising and falling steadily with each breath, his lips slightly parted.
You watch him in quiet admiration, the sight of him peaceful and undisturbed, completely under your spell. It’s still hard to believe that this is real, that he’s lying here in your bed after everything. The love spell worked. He’s yours.
You study the soft angles of his face, the way his hair falls over his forehead, the sharp line of his jaw that only makes him look more ethereal in the morning light. You feel a deep satisfaction wash over you, the realization that everything is falling into place, just as you wanted.
It’s almost amusing, really—this version of Hyunjin, so different from the arrogant, condescending man he once was, is now wrapped around your finger.
Suddenly, his eyes flutter open, catching you in the act of watching him. A small, sleepy smile tugs at the corners of his lips as his gaze meets yours.
“Were you watching me sleep?” he asks, his voice groggy but playful.
You smile back, shrugging a little. “Maybe.”
Hyunjin chuckles softly, stretching out beside you as he rubs the sleep from his eyes. “You’re sneaky, you know that?”
“I’m just admiring the view,” you reply, your voice teasing but laced with the truth.
There’s no hiding how pleased you are with the way things have turned out. “What do you want for breakfast?”
Before he answers, Hyunjin leans over, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, his hand brushing lightly against your cheek. It’s slow and sweet, making your heart skip a beat. His tenderness is addictive.
“Surprise me,” he whispers when he pulls back, his lips hovering just above yours.
You grin, feeling a rush of triumph in the way he looks at you, the way he kisses you, the way he’s completely under your control now.
As you slip out of bed, you can’t help but feel victorious, knowing that Hyunjin—this beautiful, captivating man—is yours in every way that matters.
As you head toward the kitchen to prepare breakfast, there’s a sense of power that settles in your chest. The spell didn’t just make him fall for you—it made you stronger, more certain. You have him wrapped around your finger now, and the world feels yours for the taking.
-
The days after the spell pass like a dream, Hyunjin’s affection wrapping around you in ways you never thought possible. Every glance, every touch feels like a victory—you’ve made him yours, completely.
In the office, the familiar hum of busy workers fills the air as you make your way down the hallway toward Mr. Campbell’s office.
Hyunjin walks just a few paces ahead of you, his posture relaxed but confident. There’s an air of professionalism in him, but now that you know what he’s like when it’s just the two of you, you can’t help but feel a tinge of excitement bubbling under the surface.
As you step into Mr. Campbell’s office, you’re greeted by the familiar sternness in his voice.
"I’ve decided to assign you two to work on separate plans for the company's upcoming project," he says, his eyes shifting between you and Hyunjin.
"You'll both prepare your own proposals, and at the presentation, whoever gets the most favor from the board will earn the vacant position. This is your chance to prove yourselves."
Your heart skips a beat at the mention of the position—the one you’ve been quietly eyeing ever since you started here. Hyunjin, beside you, remains calm, but you can feel the weight of his presence more than ever. As Mr. Campbell dismisses the two of you, you exchange a glance with Hyunjin before leaving the office.
Once you’re out in the hallway, Hyunjin subtly grabs your wrist, pulling you toward the supply closet. You blink in surprise but follow without protest, knowing full well what he’s planning.
The door barely clicks shut before his lips are on yours, urgent but playful. His hands slide around your waist, pulling you flush against him, and for a moment, everything outside of this small, dim room fades away.
“I know we’re competing for this,” Hyunjin murmurs against your lips, his voice soft with an edge of amusement, “but good luck.”
His tone is teasing, but there’s sincerity there too. He breaks the kiss just long enough to meet your gaze, his dark eyes gleaming. "May the best one win."
You smirk, your hand resting on his chest as you catch your breath.
“Good luck to you, too,” you reply, your voice smooth but laced with challenge. “I can’t wait to see how things turn out.”
Hyunjin grins, his fingers brushing your cheek lightly. “Neither can I.”
There’s a flicker of something deeper in his gaze—excitement, maybe, or anticipation. You lean in, giving him a quick but lingering kiss, letting the tension between you hum in the air.
The thrill of the upcoming competition mixes with the attraction that has only grown between you. He pulls back with a chuckle, running his thumb over your lower lip.
“You’re not making this easy for me, you know that?”
You shrug, a playful glint in your eyes. “I wouldn’t be me if I did.”
The kiss lingers for a few more seconds before Hyunjin finally steps back, his hand grazing your arm as he reaches for the door.
“Let’s make this interesting,” he says, his voice low, almost daring. “See you on the battlefield.”
With one last mischievous smile, he exits, leaving you alone in the closet with your heart racing and a fierce determination bubbling up inside.
There’s no denying that you’re both in this, but the added tension of the competition only fuels your desire to come out on top—both in work and with Hyunjin.
-
As the presentation for the vacant position approaches, an unsettling feeling lingers at the back of your mind. You watch Hyunjin, wondering if the man who once rivaled you so fiercely would really let things go this easily without the spell.
One afternoon, you’re in your office, going over your project when Hyunjin leans back in his chair, his gaze soft as it drifts over you. You’re explaining your ideas, expecting his usual critique, when he interrupts with a grin.
“You’re going to win,” he says, sounding almost too sure.
You pause, looking up from your notes. “What?”
“Your presentation is going to be the best. I mean, come on, you’re brilliant,” he says, his voice full of admiration, not competition.
“Honestly, I’ve been thinking... maybe I’ll just back down.” he shares out of the blue.
Your heart stumbles. “Back down?”
He nods, that lazy smile still on his face. “Yeah, I don’t need the promotion. Not if it means competing with you. I’d rather see you succeed. We’re... together now. What’s the point in fighting over this?”
His words hit you like a cold splash of water. Back down? Hyunjin, who once lived for the competition, who thrived on the challenge, was now willing to give up everything. Because of the spell. Because you’d made him love you so much that he’d throw away his ambitions.
For a moment, you can’t breathe. This wasn’t love—it was devotion you’d forced on him. You took his drive, his edge, the parts of him that made you want to beat him in the first place.
You try to steady yourself and begin speaking. “Hyunjin, you’ve worked hard for this too. You deserve the promotion as much as I do.”
But he shakes his head, taking your hand in his. “I don’t need it anymore. I have you.”
That simple statement—it should make you feel victorious, but instead, it twists something inside you. The spell worked too well. He isn’t competing, isn’t challenging you like before. He’s so devoted, so wrapped up in his feelings that he’s willing to throw away everything he’s worked for.
“I—” you start, but the words die on your lips.
His thumb brushes softly over your knuckles. “What’s wrong?”
You force a smile, trying to mask the turmoil brewing beneath the surface. “Nothing. I’m just... surprised.”
He lets it go, the conversation shifting back to work, but you can’t focus. You nod along, pretending to listen, but inside, your thoughts are miles away.
Later, when he gets up to leave, his words cling to you like a shadow.
“I know I’m supposed to try, but... seeing you happy is more important to me than anything else.”
The door closes behind him, and you sink into your chair, staring at the space he left behind. You wanted this—his love, his devotion, his attention. You got exactly what you asked for. But now, seeing him like this, so willing to give up everything, the weight of your actions crashes down on you.
You press your fingers to your lips, replaying his words over and over. This isn’t the Hyunjin you admired, the one who challenged you at every turn. You’ve changed him, twisted him into something else—something that doesn’t feel real anymore.
Your chest tightens with regret. The spell had worked, yes, but at what cost?
-
It’s Halloween, and you're rifling through your book of spells, desperately searching for something that can help undo the spells you’ve cast on Hyunjin—or at least diminish their effects. With each page you turn, your frustration grows as you find no answers to ease your dread.
After a long, grueling hour, you finally stumble upon a spell that could remove the enchantment entirely. But something this powerful demands a greater sacrifice. You hesitate, unsure why you even considered it in the first place. Shaking your head, you continue flipping through the pages, anxiety building.
The doorbell rings, snapping you from your thoughts. You assume it’s more trick-or-treaters; the kids in the apartment building have been coming by all night, eagerly asking for candy. Sighing, you close the book and head to the door, grabbing the basket of sweets on your way.
But instead of children in costumes, you find Hyunjin standing there, dressed in a white shirt and dark slacks, his long dark hair brushed back except for a strand falling over his forehead.
"Trick or treat!" he says with a charming smile, holding up a bag of food and a bottle of wine.
"What are you dressed as?" you ask with a playful smile.
"As… your beautiful boyfriend?" he replies, tilting his head with a hint of doubt, but the adorable expression makes your heart flutter.
For a moment, you feel warm—like the only thing that matters is how he looks at you. But then reality crashes in. None of this is genuine. It's all because of your spell.
"So, are you going to let me in?" Hyunjin asks, leaning casually against the doorframe.
"Yeah, sure." You step aside, allowing him to enter.
As soon as the door closes, his hands are free, and he pulls you into a tight embrace. His lips brush over yours before he kisses you deeply, sweetly, as if savoring the moment. You kiss him back, letting his warmth momentarily ease the guilt gnawing at you.
"I missed you," Hyunjin sighs, sounding relieved as if his words release all the pain inside him.
"Missed you too," you reply, your voice lacking the same enthusiasm, though he doesn’t seem to notice.
He kisses you again, deeper this time, pulling you closer until there’s no space between you. But something feels off.
Even as he holds you, the weight of the situation hangs heavily over you. You break the kiss, offering a small smile as you say. "I'll get the food ready."
As you unpack the food on the kitchen counter, Hyunjin watches you from the dining table, his eyes tracking your every move like you’re the most fascinating thing in the world.
"Can you help with the wine?" you ask, pulling him from his reverie.
He snaps to attention, grabbing the wine opener and rolling up his sleeves. He opens the bottle with care, pouring the wine into two glasses you’ve set on the table.
"Cheers," he says, raising his glass.
"Cheers." You clink glasses, the sound ringing softly as you both take a sip.
"I hope you like the food," he says, glancing nervously at your plate. "If not, we can order something else."
"No, it’s perfect. I love pasta," you reassure him, taking a bite.
He smiles, watching you eat without touching his own plate until you urge him to start. The doorbell rings again, this time unmistakably trick-or-treaters. You excuse yourself, handing out sweets to the kids at the door before returning to the table.
"How’s your project going?" you ask, trying to keep the conversation light despite the growing heaviness in your chest.
"It’s going well," he replies, though the hesitation in his voice makes you doubt him. "I was working on it earlier."
"That’s good. We promised to make it interesting, right?"
"Yeah, of course," he says, poking at his food absentmindedly.
After dinner, you clear the plates, heading to the sink to wash up while Hyunjin refills your wine glasses. But he’s not content with just that. Soon, he’s behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and placing kisses on your neck.
"You can do it later," he whispers, his breath hot against your skin, making it hard for you to focus.
"It won’t take long," you insist, his arms still holding you as you rinse the last dish.
Another knock at the door pulls you from his grasp, and you give out more candy before Hyunjin takes the basket from you, placing it outside and locking the door. He then turns back to you with a sly grin plastered on his face.
"From now on, no more tricks, only treats," he says, his smile mischievous.
Before you can respond, he lifts you effortlessly, carrying you to the bedroom. He sets you down gently, making sure your head lands perfectly on the pillow. Hovering over you, he traces your features with his fingers, admiration shining in his eyes.
"You’re so beautiful," he murmurs, almost in disbelief.
"Hyunjin..." you whisper, overwhelmed by the way he looks at you.
"I love the way you call my name," he says softly, kissing you deeply before trailing his lips down your jawline.
He then buries his head in your neck and inhales your scent as if he breathes in air for the first time in a while, "Gosh... you smell heavenly."
Once the clothes are off, Hyunjin begins making a trail of kisses down your front and for each kiss he plants, he gives you a sweet compliment as if you weren't high already from the way his soft lips leaving searing kisses on your skin.
He only stops when he gets to where you want him the most and he gives you just exactly what you need, his tongue lapping at your wetness as his fingers lightly stroke on your clit. He licks, he sucks, he's using his mouth to its fullest potential to give you the utmost of pleasure.
Hyunjin’s dark locks are caught between your fingers and you tug at it when the pleasure gets too much, your eyes fluttering open and your legs wanting to keep closing but Hyunjin’s strong arms are steadily keeping them open.
He's doing it too well that you cum in no time, your essence gets all over his mouth and chin, and you don’t hesitate to kiss him, tasting yourself on his lips.
Hyunjin moves like water as he thrusts into you, painstakingly slow as to make you feel every drag of his cock against your walls and going as shallow as possible, hitting you just right on the spot.
"Oh, you feel so good," he murmurs, his voice is rough, full of need and heavy with lust.
Low groans are spilling out of his parted mouth as he tries to draw it out, wanting to make this moment last as long as possible.
"So good," he murmurs again with haste kiss on your lips.
His hand gropes around for yours and when he finds it, he laces them together. "I want to stay in this moment with you, forever."
But as things escalate, the overwhelming guilt creeps back in. Every touch, every kiss feels tainted, knowing his affection is not real. Your chest tightens, and suddenly, you can’t hold it in anymore. Tears spill from your eyes as you turn your head away, trying to hide your face from him.
"Hey, what’s wrong?" Hyunjin stops, his voice full of concern. "Did I hurt you?"
You shake your head, unable to speak past the lump in your throat.
"Do you want me to stop?" he asks gently, placing a comforting kiss on your cheek.
"No," you manage to whisper. "Please… don’t stop."
He continues, but his movements are slower, more careful, as if afraid of breaking you. His eyes never leave yours, and the tenderness in his gaze makes you feel even smaller, exposed so you close your eyes, afraid that he would eventually sees the real you, how vicious and cruel you are underneath.
As he reaches his high, he collapses onto the bed beside you, his breathing ragged. He pulls you close, his head resting in the crook of your neck as he whispers sweet, loving words while you stare at the ceiling with the guilt suffocating you as you hold him in your arm.
"What have I done?" you mutter, the words escaping before you can stop them.
Hyunjin, thinking you’re speaking to him, lifts his head and smiles softly. "You made me fall in love."
If only that were true. If only it came from his heart. If only... it was all real.
-
The boardroom is filled with the quiet rustle of papers and the soft hum of anticipation.
The meeting has been tense, as expected, with everyone vying to impress. You sit, posture rigid, as you finish your presentation. Applause erupts, polite yet enthusiastic, and you nod, acknowledging it with a tight smile. The project was good, better than good, and judging by the reaction, everyone knew it.
Now it’s Hyunjin’s turn. You subtly glance over at him from your seat, your pulse quickening, but instead of preparing himself, he seems strangely detached. His eyes skim the room, hands resting loosely by his sides, as though this moment doesn’t matter to him.
He steps up to present, but from the first few words, it’s obvious—he’s not even trying. His voice lacks the fire, the drive that’s been his signature since day one. You feel your stomach twist as you realize he’s practically handing you the win.
Hyunjin wraps up his presentation, which gets polite applause, but it’s nowhere near the fervor yours received. Your chest tightens with frustration. He didn’t try. Not even close.
The meeting adjourns, and you slip out quickly, not wanting to be near him.
The weight of what’s happening presses heavily on you as you stand in the crowded elevator, the quiet hum of conversation filling the space. Hyunjin is standing somewhere behind you, but you refuse to look at him. You can feel his presence, but the air between you is suffocating, thick with the unspoken words.
Once you step out into the parking lot, you walk briskly, desperate to get away. But Hyunjin catches up, his footsteps hurried.
"Wait!" he calls after you, his voice strained with urgency.
You stop, the anger bubbling inside of you, and spin to face him. "Why did you do that?"
He runs a hand through his hair, looking torn. "Please, just—let’s talk. In the car."
You hesitate but ultimately nod, leading the way to your car. Once inside, the silence between you feels unbearable.
"You promised," you start, your voice shaking with anger. "We promised we’d make it a fair competition, that we’d both try our best."
Hyunjin leans back in the seat, his eyes dark with regret. "I know."
"Then why?" you demand, the frustration boiling over. "Why did you just give up? You weren’t even trying, Hyunjin!"
He lets out a shaky breath and looks at you, his gaze soft and full of something that makes your heart ache. "Because I love you."
His words hit you like a punch to the chest. You stare at him, unable to process it at first. Love. The very thing you’d manipulated him into feeling.
Tears well up in your eyes before you can stop them, the guilt crashing over you like a wave.
"No," you whisper, shaking your head. "You don’t love me. Not really. This isn’t real."
Hyunjin reaches out, gently taking your hand. "It feels real to me," he says softly. "You matter more to me than any project, more than any competition. I couldn’t fight against you."
Your tears spill over, and suddenly you’re sobbing, the weight of everything—the spells, the manipulation, the guilt—overwhelming you.
"I’m sorry," you cry, your voice barely above a whisper. "I’m so, so sorry."
Hyunjin pulls you into his arms, holding you tightly, not understanding why you’re apologizing but sensing your pain. You collapse against him, your body shaking with sobs.
If only he knew the truth. If only he knew what you had done to him. But you can’t bring yourself to say it. Not now.
-
A few days later, you sit in the office chair across from Mr. Campbell, his usual stern expression softening as he reads from the paper in front of him. His words feel distant, almost muffled, like you’re underwater.
"It’s official," he says with a pleased nod. "You’ve earned the promotion. Your project was outstanding. Congratulations."
You force a smile, but the corners of your mouth barely lift. You knew this was coming—Hyunjin’s lackluster presentation made it inevitable.
This was the result you had planned for, worked for, even cast spells for. But now, sitting here, hearing the words you thought would bring you triumph, there’s nothing. No thrill, no victory, just an empty ache in your chest.
"Thank you," you manage to say, voice hollow.
He stands, extending his hand, and you shake it, knowing you should feel proud, but the weight in your stomach pulls you down.
You leave his office, your steps heavy as you wander through the hallways, trying to find some corner to breathe, to process everything.
You duck into a supply closet, the small, dim space feeling like a sanctuary where no one can find you. Leaning against the shelves, you close your eyes, letting out a shaky breath.
It wasn’t supposed to feel like this. This promotion was supposed to be your moment. But how could it be, when Hyunjin didn’t even try? It’s not a win if the competition never showed up.
A few moments later, you hear the faint sound of footsteps approaching. The door creaks open, and there he is—Hyunjin, his tall frame taking up most of the doorway. He steps inside, closing the door behind him.
"There you are," he says softly, his eyes searching your face. "I’ve been looking for you."
You look away, unable to meet his gaze. "Why?"
He steps closer, his presence warm and overwhelming in the cramped space. "I wanted to congratulate you. You won."
His words make something inside you twist painfully. The way he says it so gently, without any resentment or bitterness, just makes it worse. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you shake your head.
"I didn’t win," you whisper, voice cracking. "Not really."
Hyunjin frowns, his hand coming up to gently cup your cheek, turning your face toward him. "Of course you did. You earned it."
You let out a bitter laugh, the tears spilling over. "No, I didn’t. You gave up. You didn’t even try, Hyunjin. This doesn’t feel like a win."
You pull away slightly, looking up at him, your heart aching with regret and guilt. "I’m sorry for everything."
Hyunjin frowns, his thumb brushing away a tear from your cheek. "You don’t have to be sorry for anything."
He pulls you into his arms, holding you tightly, and you sink into him, feeling the warmth of his embrace. His lips brush against your forehead, soft and tender, before he leans down to kiss you—gently, lovingly. It’s a kiss that feels like a promise, like something real, something that could have been.
Except that it’s not real. It can never be real, not with everything you’ve done.
You pull back, looking into his eyes, your mind already spinning with the plan for tonight. This—right here—would be the last time you'd see him without the weight of what’s to come. Your victory was secured, but the price hadn’t been paid. Not yet.
"Let’s have dinner at my place tonight," you say, trying to steady your voice, pretending like everything is normal. "To celebrate the promotion."
His lips curl into a small smile, his thumb caressing your cheek. "I'd like that," he says softly.
You smile back, though it feels hollow. You hold onto this moment for a second longer, knowing it’s one of the last peaceful ones you’ll share with him. Then, with a shaky breath, you step out of his embrace.
"I’ll see you tonight," you whisper, and without another glance, you slip out of the supply closet.
Hyunjin stays behind as you walk away, his warmth still lingering against your skin. Each step feels heavier, like the weight of your decision is pressing down on you, pulling you further into the realization of what comes next. You stop just before the corner, stealing a glance over your shoulder, watching him for a second longer.
The knot in your stomach tightens again, but you remind yourself—this is the only way. It has to be.
With a deep breath, you turn back and keep walking. There's no turning back now.
-
Later that night, you stand at the door of your apartment, heart pounding softly as you wait for him to arrive. When you hear the soft knock, you open the door, and there he is—Hyunjin, smiling with that familiar warmth, the smile you once fell for.
“Hey,” he says softly, stepping inside, his eyes sweeping over the cozy setup. The small table is adorned with candles, casting a soft golden glow over the room. “This looks amazing.”
You smile, your heart heavy but steady. “I wanted tonight to be special.”
The evening starts gently—laughter, conversation, little touches that feel like ghosts of a past you thought you wanted. But you let yourself lean into it, let yourself love him for what feels like the last time.
At one point, you find yourselves on the sofa, wine glasses resting on the table, the closeness between you too familiar, too easy. His hand brushes your cheek, and you don’t stop him as his lips meet yours. The kiss deepens, turning into a slow, tender makeout session. His touch, warm and inviting, is like a spell all its own. But as you kiss him, an ache builds in your chest, the weight of everything you know you’ll do.
You pull away slightly, breathless, your hands still resting on his chest. His eyes search yours, a soft confusion lingering in them. You can’t help but ask, the words escaping before you can stop them.
"Hyunjin?" You softly call.
"Yes?"
“If… if we hadn’t met, do you think you’d still be happy?”
Hyunjin frowns slightly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “What are you talking about?”
“I mean, if I wasn’t… me. If you didn’t know me. Would you still have… loved me?” Your voice falters on the last word, the question hanging between you like a weight.
He pauses, eyes searching yours, his fingers tracing small circles on your skin. “I would. I’d find you, no matter what. In any life, in any world. I would always love you.”
His answer, so simple and sincere, breaks something inside you. You close your eyes, feeling the tears sting at the edges, but you don’t let them fall. Instead, you kiss him again, harder this time, trying to chase away the sadness, trying to pretend for a moment that things could be different. But the more he holds you, the more his words echo in your mind, the more certain you become. He loves you, yes. But this love can’t last. Not like this.
When you finally pull away, the weight of what you need to do presses down on you with full force. This is the only way. Later, as the candles flicker lower, you rise from the sofa and head to the table.
“I'll get us more wine,” you say softly, your voice steady despite the storm inside you.
Hyunjin watches you with a warm smile as you pour the wine. Your heart pounds as your finger dips into the crimson-colored wine and then trails the rim of his glass with it while murmuring the words, barely audible, but enough to seal his fate.
"From fire to ash, from light to dust. What once was mine, returns to rust.
Love undone, his heart unbound. In silence and shadow, let him drown.
By the touch of this glass, let his fate align. Power to me, as his stars decline."
You hand him the glass, your heart breaking as you do. He brings it to his lips, taking a sip, unaware of what you’ve just done. Unaware of how much this hurts you.
For tonight, you let yourself pretend. You let yourself love him, just one last time. And as he drinks, you whisper the silent goodbye you know he’ll never hear, pressing your lips to his once more with a love you wish he’d always remember, even as he forgets.
In your heart, you say it, soft and final: Goodbye, Hyunjin.
-
The day feels colder, even though the weather hasn't changed. As you walk into the office, something feels off, a gnawing sensation in the pit of your stomach. Your eyes scan the room for Hyunjin, wondering if the spell had worked yet.
And then, you spot him. He’s standing with a group of colleagues, but as he catches sight of you, the warmth you’ve come to know over the past few weeks vanishes entirely. His gaze is sharp, carrying the same icy disdain that had once been so familiar. The same bitterness, and none of the love.
As you make your way across the office, he steps toward you, shoulders tense, his eyes narrowing. You brace yourself, hoping for even a flicker of the softness he once held in his gaze, but instead, his shoulder brushes yours—cold and dismissive. You pause, your stomach twisting as he turns to you with a sneer.
“Must feel nice,” he says, his voice dripping with contempt. “Getting everything handed to you without actually earning it.”
The words slice through you like a knife. You pause for a second, trying to keep your composure, feeling the weight of every decision that brought you to this point. The guilt of what you’ve done, the emptiness where your power once hummed, and now this—Hyunjin, reduced back to the man who hated you.
You take a deep breath, swallowing the lump in your throat, forcing yourself to stay calm. “I worked hard for it, Hyunjin,” you manage to say, though your voice is shaky.
His laugh is cold, mocking, and it makes you wince. “Sure you did,” he mutters, turning back to his computer, dismissing you as if you’re nothing.
You stand there, frozen for a second, biting the inside of your cheek to keep the tears at bay. His words shouldn’t hurt you, not after everything that’s happened, but they do. They hurt more than you expected. All those moments you shared, all those fleeting smiles and touches, are gone, erased by the spell.
The real Hyunjin is back. The rude, brash, and hostile Hyunjin who sees you as nothing more than a rival. A stranger. You glance at him once more, hoping to catch a flicker of the person he was during those brief moments when he loved you, but there’s nothing. Just a void where that connection used to be.
The worst part is, you can’t even blame him. You brought this on yourself.
You walk to your new office with your name gleaming on the plate on the desk. You sink into your chair, trying to keep your emotions under control. But your hands tremble slightly as they rest on the desk, the weight of everything pressing down on your chest. You feel something hollow deep inside you.
It’s not just Hyunjin’s attitude that’s changed. You try to summon the familiar flicker of magic, the power you’ve relied on for so long, but there’s nothing. Like trying to grasp smoke, it’s gone. The power you sacrificed him for… It’s drained from you, leaving only an emptiness in its place.
You glance up at Hyunjin from across the room. He’s engrossed in his work, not sparing you another glance. And that’s when you realize just how much you’ve lost—not just him, not just your power, but the chance to ever fix this. The person he was, the one who loved you, is gone.
And in the end, no one’s won. Not you, and certainly not him.
-
You sit at the head of the table, watching the meeting unfold. The conversations swirl around you, voices clashing, egos on display. You’re the new boss, the one they’re all eager to impress or undermine. They don’t know what you’ve sacrificed to get here. They don’t know the real cost of power.
But you do.
As you listen, you catch yourself slipping into the familiar rhythm. You chant silently, almost instinctively, the words that once fueled your magic: "With fire in my veins and steel in my spine. Today the world bends, and all power is mine."
The words used to ignite something inside you, a force, a certainty. Now, they echo hollow in your mind. The magic is gone, drained from you in exchange for this.
Still, you repeat the mantra, knowing it’s all you have left. The magic may be lost, but the confidence—the belief in your own strength—isn’t. And that’s the closest thing you have to power now. The confidence that no one in this room sees the struggle beneath your polished exterior. They don’t know how much you’ve given up to sit in this chair, and they never will.
The meeting drones on. Hyunjin’s face flashes in your mind, his cold words still fresh, the way he dismissed your promotion as if it meant nothing. You bite the inside of your cheek, swallowing the pain, refusing to let the tears well up. You won this, but it doesn't feel like triumph. It feels like surviving.
And that’s what you’ll keep doing. Surviving.
The mantra repeats in your head, growing louder, stronger: "With fire in my veins and steel in my spine." It’s not magic, but it’s enough. Enough to remind you who you are. You nod and smile through the meeting, play the role they expect of you.
The meeting ends, and you gather your things, moving toward the elevator. As the doors slide open, you freeze for a moment—Hyunjin is already inside. He stands there, tall and sharp as ever, but he's not alone. A girl is nestled next to him, laughing softly at something he says. The warmth between them is unmistakable.
You step in, feeling your stomach churn as the doors close behind you. The air feels suffocating in the small space, and you keep your eyes on the floor, biting back the flood of emotions rising in your chest. Hyunjin doesn’t even glance your way. He’s too busy murmuring something to her, his hand casually brushing her arm. The same way he used to touch you.
The elevator hums as it descends, the seconds stretching out painfully. The girl giggles again, and you can’t help but catch a glimpse of them in the reflection. Hyunjin looks like his old self—rude, brash, completely unaffected. There’s no trace of the man who had once loved you, who had held you close.
The spell has worked, stripping away everything that had made him care about you. You bite down harder on the inside of your cheek, willing yourself not to break in front of them. Not here. Not now.
The elevator dings, the doors opening to the parking basement. Hyunjin steps out first, his arm wrapped around the girl’s waist, and you follow silently, keeping your distance.
There’s a brief moment where you lock eyes—just for a second. But it’s enough to tell you that the connection is gone. Whatever existed between the two of you has disappeared, erased by the spell.
Hyunjin walks away, not even a glance back. And this time, you feel it deep inside—this is truly the end. You watch them leave, feeling profoundly empty, more alone than ever. The victory you once sought now feels hollow, a reminder of what you sacrificed to get here.
You take a deep breath, trying to shake the sadness as you walk toward your car. But the feeling lingers, heavy and unshakable. There’s no magic to fix this. There’s no spell that can bring back what you’ve lost. You tell yourself it’s what had to be done, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less.
For the first time, the thought crosses your mind—was it really worth it?
You close your eyes, letting the wind brush over your face, and whisper to yourself one last time: "With fire in my veins and steel in my spine, today the world bends, and all power is mine."
This is only the beginning, you remind yourself. There will be more people like Hyunjin, more obstacles, more power to chase. You glance at your hands, no longer tingling with the hum of magic, but steady with a new kind of strength.
For now, you’ll rely on yourself. And soon, when the time is right, the world will bend again.
-
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Dance in the Dark
Pairing: Ghostface!Terry Richmond x Sub!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader
Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Cursing, Dom!Terry, mean Terry, SMUT, PWP, PIV, oral (male receiving), fingering (female receiving), knife kink, hair pulling, praise kink, degradation kink, breeding kink if you squint, all consensual. Sorry if I missed some.
Summary: One drunken night, you giggle with your friends as you dared each other to sign up for a fetish dating website that matched your kinks with others. The site took its reputation seriously so you knew that the man on the other side of the screen was real. And he really was that gorgeous. Terry acknowledges that it's time to meet and he makes sure this Halloween is unforgettable.
Word Count: 6,350k
AO3 Link
A/N: WHEW. I'll see myself out on this one. Chilleeee. I need to hose myself down. Enjoy and Happy Halloween, my loves. Taking a much needed break after this one! Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, gif, or unhinged ask.
📥 New Message
You continued to swing back and forth on your gamer chair, grabbing your phone and immediately swiping on the message.
TJ: I look forward to tonight.
You shrieked and bit your nail, pulling your legs in towards you as far as they would go. When that grew uncomfortable, you lifted your sock-clad feet to the edge. It dug into your arch but your mind was only focused on one Mr. Terry Richmond.
It shouldn’t have thrilled you so much to receive a message from him. It had started out as a simple dare with your friends, each of you making a profile on a fetish connection website and laughing at all the desperate men.
You never expected to actually run across someone who looked like him. You thought he was fake or a bot. You thought AI had crept its way into the dating scene, preying on unsuspecting lonely people. The checkmark next to his name let you know that he was, in fact, very much real.
The website took its privacy and its reputation very seriously, vetting all members that signed up. You included. Anyone could message first, the app offering potential matches based on answers to the questionnaire on start up.
You and your friends had giggled, deliriously drunk while you answered the questions. Some you kept to yourself. Not because you were embarrassed, but because you were kind of taking it seriously. You wanted to see what was out there for someone like you, someone who desperately wanted to hand over control to someone capable of leading.
You: Me too.
TJ: Did the box arrive?
You sucked in a rush of air since you forgot to breathe. Over the course of the past few weeks, you shared many messages with Terry. Told each other everything really. You always managed to skirt around talking about the obvious. That you were on a fetish dating website and looking for someone to take control.
You discussed books you’ve read or music you listened to. No matter how silly your tastes, Terry wanted to hear it all. You always felt heard with him. Understood by him. And it made your crush sink further in your chest and take root. Blossom into a full on obsession with his pictures.
He was a private man, evident by his profile that you visited at least ten times a day. Eleven if you had enough time to stroke yourself to his pictures. He didn’t have many, but he had a few of him in the gym and of him hiking. He had one thirst trap picture of him in a berry shirt, staring at the camera with crushing intensity.
As you grew more serious, Terry began to switch up the conversations. Naturally sliding in his dominant nature by telling you to do things. He did it so subtly, so minutely, that you hadn’t known what was going on until he was ordering you not to touch yourself anymore and you actually obeyed. All from texts.
You stared at his latest message, panties growing damp from how excited he made you. The past week, he decided that it was time to meet in person. You were obviously nervous, but every time you thought of it, your thighs tingled and your pussy throbbed.
You: I got everything.
TJ: Good. I want you to relax tonight.
You giggled breathlessly in the comfort of your room, chewing on your nail. This couldn’t be real. This couldn’t be your life. It would be hard to relax knowing that Terry could slip in at any time. Show off those mysterious Marine skills he talked about on his profile.
You: You really don’t find this weird?
TJ: What’s weird about it? It’s healthy.
TJ: Besides, I’ve been fighting an erection all week thinking about tonight.
“God,” you moaned out loud.
It turned you on even more that he was so open with his desire for you. You were used to weak men constantly trying to play it cool. Play it smart. Act as if they were doing you a favor by being with you. You always knew that a real man wouldn’t pretend. He’d be real. And Terry was real.
You: It’s been so hard not touching myself. 😣
TJ: You didn’t, did you?
You: Noooo 😇
TJ: Am I sensing a brat? A little late in the game to introduce curveballs.
You giggled at your phone, nearly kicking your feet. You were obsessed. You had a job where you couldn’t even try to sneak and be on your phone. Rules were important and you always felt like you had a neon sign professing your guilt whenever you broke a single one. But you were always itching to look at your phone. To see if there was a new message from him or a new command.
Once, he made you stop what you were doing and go to the nearest bathroom to edge yourself. You’d never done anything like that before and you had been so nervous, but fuck, you had been close to cumming. It was impossible to stop yourself but somehow you did.
Another time, he wanted you to take your sexiest picture. You had been fussing and fawning over the correct one, loving them all but you weren’t sure which one would appeal to him. Then it dawned on you. It was about what appealed to you.
After that, you took a teasing photo showing just enough but hiding a lot more. You wore a black bra and panty set and sat on your haunches, letting your thick thighs widen. You tilted your head and gave him a shy smile. The minute the picture went off, you knew it was a good one.
You sent it to him and he sent you a picture back five minutes later showing a puddle of cum on his office desk. This man drove you wild, stimulated your brain in the best possible way. You hadn’t ever known a man to seduce your mind the way he seduced all your other senses.
He sent a few voice notes, enough to understand the cadence of his speech while he issued out small orders. It wasn’t always sexual. Sometimes he wanted you to go to bed early, grab you some tea, or run you a hot bath because you had a body ache earlier.
You: Moi? A brat. I know not what you mean.
An alarm went off on your phone letting you know that it was past time to start getting ready. The first part of Terry's carefully thought out night was that you took a bath, paid attention to your body, relaxed with a glass of wine and unwound from the day.
Hell, that sounded relaxing just on general principle. You took your phone with you into the bathroom, turning on the light and getting the bath started. You added your favorite scent, pouring a healthy dollop of bath soap into the steaming water.
You hummed as you moved around the space, gathering a plush cream towel big enough to fit around your body. Comfort items had to be one of your platonic love languages. You loved soft things. From blanket hoodies, to bath towels, to throw blankets.
You lit a candle as the water ran, white bubbles foaming on the surface of the water. You went to the kitchen and poured your favorite glass of wine, swirling the liquid in your wine glass. You sniffed the glass and took in the subtle notes and highlights.
You hooked up your phone to your bathroom speaker on your way back to the bathroom, turning on some grown and sexy music. Terry wanted you to relax, then you were going to relax.
You told him you were hopping in the bath and he responded quickly.
TJ: Take your time, beautiful.
Your heart fluttered and you sighed, wondering how the hell you got so lucky. Truly, what kind, divine act did you commit to land someone like Terry? You had to pinch yourself as you took off your clothes.
Your silk short shorts and tank top slid down your body, tingling in some areas from how hyper aware you were. You sat on a hand towel on the edge of the tub and ran your fingers through the water. Just a few more minutes before it was perfect.
You grabbed the last candle you used, the smell of spearmint eucalyptus filling the space even if it wasn’t lit. You used an electric lighter to light it. The soft glow played across your hands and you took a deep breath.
Tonight already did wonders for your frayed nerves. Taking the time to soak everything in helped you relax in a way only journaling could accomplish. You needed more nights like these, nights that were just for you.
You tucked your hair into a bonnet and then sunk into the bath, moaning at the hot water touching your cool skin. The water sloshed as you carefully sat down, leaning your back against the back of your tub and moaning once more.
This felt entirely too good. “Falsetto” by the Dream played and you sank further into the water, lighting washing yourself at first. You started with a face mask, smattering the cream on your face. You let that sit while you washed the rest of your body.
With every area that you washed, you wondered which areas Terry would pay attention to. Was he an ass man? Titties man? Thighs man? You had your impressions but you didn’t want to get too caught up in the fantasy. If tonight went well, you hoped to turn this into a full time thing if he was game.
You didn’t have to date on top of it, but god, you wouldn’t say no either. Wouldn’t say no to living life the way you needed to. Being at the mercy of someone who knew what to do with it. How to handle you. How to take all of your stress and worries and let you know what peace felt like. You wanted to do the same for him.
You wanted to be the one he sought out when he had a bad day. Or when he just needed some stress relief. When the world got too loud and unfair and the only thing he could control was whether or not you came.
You wanted that push and pull and you wanted it desperately with Terry. You only hoped he was game as well. He said he wasn’t talking to others on the app and you wanted to believe him. You also wouldn’t blame him if he were lying. You only needed him to be safe and careful.
He sent over his latest test results showing that he was clean. He told you from the onset that he hated condoms. He enjoyed the feeling of pussy wrapped around his dick. You were on the pill and showed him your results as well. Somehow, he even made getting tested sexy.
After your bath, you took time shaving the important bits. You rubbed your favorite lotion and perfume together and then rubbed it into your skin. Your skin prickled. When would he do it?
When you were in bed? When you were in the kitchen? When you were on your way out of the bathroom? You looked towards your bathroom door. It was slightly ajar, your dark hallway beyond.
He could be there now, watching you just beyond the shadows. It should scare you. Yet it only made your skin flush with heat. Your breathing turned choppy and you forced yourself to return to that sense of calm you had before.
You finished lotioning up and brushed your teeth, adding on a mint just in case. You blew out the candle and then pulled on your robe, returning to your darkened room. The blackout curtains worked well. The darkened room felt more intimate than normal.
Terry’s preferred outfit lay across your freshly laundered comforter and sheets. You hoped after tonight, that it would be good and filthy again. You slipped on the lingerie Terry shipped to you, taking your time to pull on the purple metallic bra with fleur-de-lis decorations in black and turquoise blue. The matching panties and skirt set glided smoothly across your dewy skin.
The skirt connected to thigh high stockings and you hurriedly pulled those on as well. You leaned down to pull on high heels, strapping it around your ankle. You’d never felt sexier. There was something deeply erotic about wearing an outfit someone else picked for you.
You took off your bonnet and shook out your hair, arranging it just how you liked. You walked over to your closet, opening the door to look in the long mirror. You turned from side to side, appreciating how well it fit. How sexy it looked on you.
The heels felt like stepping on clouds and you walked around your room, getting used to the feel of it. Hell, you’d fuck you in a heartbeat. You hoped Terry liked it. Speaking of…
You went over to your dresser, cleaning up some of the mess you made while getting ready for work. You grabbed your phone, charging, and switched the song to Under by Pleasure P.
You opened the new message by Terry, tingling pinpricks shooting up your inner thighs.
TJ: See you soon, beautiful.
The message was sent when you began your bath so you had no idea if he was just now leaving or if he was already there. Not knowing had you clenching your thighs. You had to calm down. Had to return to a relaxed state.
Final steps. You dimmed the lights in your bedroom, setting it to where you could barely see. You transferred the music from your bathroom to your bedroom’s speakers. Then you grabbed your wine and took a few more sips until you emptied your glass. You pouted at the missing liquid and then sighed.
You turned around, trudging to the kitchen to the nasty croon of Pleasure P. singing. You hummed as you opened your fridge, bringing out your wine and pouring another healthy glass.
You stopped pouring and lifted your head, an awareness of being watched creeping into your senses. You slowly turned around but there was no one in the kitchen. You fought the urge to turn on the overhead lights, letting the backlighting guide most of your way.
There was no one behind you, yet you couldn’t fight the urge that he was there. That he was near. “Terry?” You called out. Your house never seemed so empty before. You stepped forward, your heels clicking on the tile.
Your phone buzzed in your hand and you jumped with a shriek, laughing as you saw Terry’s phone number flash across your screen. You swiped it to answer it and brought it to your ear.
“Don’t you know you’re not supposed to call out who’s there?” He asked.
“Terry?” You asked, breathlessly, looking for any sign of movement. There was nothing in the pitch black night outside your house and not a peep from the one level house.
Terry’s deep chuckle made you shiver and bite your lip. This man was too sexy for words. Too fucking sinful. He was the total and complete package, driving you crazy with a few well placed words.
“Are you scared?” Terry asked, dropping his voice to a low, purring tease.
“N-No,” you said. You abandoned your wine and then went snooping around your own home, staring at closet doors warily. How did he get in? If he got into your place without a disturbance in the air, you hated to be an enemy of his. Hated to see what he was capable of when he was focused on a mission.
Terry chuckled. “Don’t lie to me,” he said.
“A little. I’m a little scared,” you admitted.
“That’s better. I’d be worried if you weren’t. You smell good by the way,” he said.
Your gasp was a mix of a whine and a moan. Where was he? Where would he pop out? You walked towards the back of the house, towards your room and your bathroom. You checked behind the doors and everything.
“You’re playing with me,” you said, with a breathless giggle.
“A little. Remember our safe word?” He asked.
You nodded and licked your lips but then it dawned on you that he couldn’t truly see you. “Yes. It’s Halloween,” you said.
“Good girl,” he purred.
You whimpered, pussy fluttering. Your essence pooled in your panties. There was no way that you could play it cool tonight. No way to remain cool, aloof, and alluring. You were down bad for Terry Richmond. Down atrocious. There was nothing that you could deny him. Nothing he couldn’t ask for that you wouldn’t try to provide.
“Want to play a game? I have a few questions,” he said.
“What kind of questions?” You asked. You searched high and low but you couldn’t determine where he was. If he was in the house or if he was right outside. You were not dressed for outside so you didn’t even attempt it.
Instead, you went around to check the locks on your doors. All still locked. Nothing amiss. You pulled back the white curtain on your back door window and peered out into the foggy evening. Nothing moved. Not a single leaf or blade of grass.
“What’s your favorite scary movie?” He asked, a dark rumble in his voice that made you bite your lip once more. This was why you could never seriously wear lipstick or lipgloss. Maybe for about ten minutes before you were biting or nibbling or picking at your lips.
You giggled. “Really?” You asked.
“Don’t want to play with me?” He asked.
You sighed and relaxed a fraction. He couldn’t be in the house yet. He was only toying with you and you were letting him get to you. He told you to relax and that was what you were going to do.
“The Frighteners,” you answered.
Terry chuckled. “That doesn’t count.”
“Sure it does. It’s classified as horror and it sure freaked me the hell out,” you said.
“Do you get scared easily?” He asked.
“Depends. I can watch movies but being scared in real life sucks,” you said. Which only made this whole exchange all the more surreal. But you were already a dripping mess. Forget prep time. Terry would have no issues just sliding right inside you.
“Can you guess which room I’m in right now?” Terry asked.
You gasped, turning around. Didn’t you just check all of the doors? You stepped back into your kitchen. You could hear your gasping breaths, heart thumping against your rib cage. “You’re playing with me again,” you said.
“Am I? You’re cold by the way,” he said.
You released your breath in slow increments, stepping forward through your kitchen with blue cabinets making the kitchen darker. You peered around the corner, looking towards the living room. You took a step forward and Terry tsked at you.
“Freezing,” he said.
You giggled nervously, turning around to your hallway. Your steps turned from clacking to pattering on the runner as you walked down the hallway. “Getting warmer. Warmer,” Terry teased as you walked closer to your bedroom.
Your heart was in your throat, beating a thumping rhythm against your neck as you traveled closer to your room. Why had you turned the lights so low? You inched closer, wanting to get close but not wanting to be blindsided by Terry jumping out.
“Burning up,” Terry said as you passed the linen closet. You stopped and reached out a hand, turning the handle slowly and then opening the door. You flinched, prepared for Terry to jump out.
“Found you,” Terry said.
You giggled, relief flooding through you now that you knew he wasn’t on the other side. You closed the door and then walked to your bedroom just fine, putting your hand on your hips. “You’re not really here. Because if you were, you’d be able to tell me what I’m doing right now,” you said.
You made an L on your forehead and twisted around in your room. “What am I doing?” You called out. “What am I doing?”
You giggled and lowered your hand, turning around just as a shadow passed in front of your door. You squealed and tripped over your heels trying to backtrack away. Escape, escape! Your mind flashed warning bells in your mind.
A man stood in front of you wearing black cargo pants, black boots, and a black tank top. Tattoos caught in the low light of your bedroom window and your pussy clenched looking at his powerful arms. The Ghostface mask seemed to float in the air but you knew just beneath that was Terry’s fine face.
“Boo,” he said.
Your mouth turned dry at being scared but heat flooded through your system taking in every delicious inch of him. He was incredibly tall and he had to duck to cross into your room.
You backed away even as your mind screamed for you to move forward. Terry raised a knife in his hand, the metal glinting. It was a standard chef’s knife and you whimpered looking at it.
This was the dumbest thing you’d ever done. The wildest, stupidest, most asinine thing ever. But it was also a wish that came true. You were already a puddle, a mix of adrenaline and arousal confusing your senses in the worst way. You didn’t know if you wanted to scream from frustration or fear.
Terry tilted his head, making the mask go sideways. He stepped closer to you and brought his hand up to caress your chin. He pulled you closer to his mask and you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him. Couldn’t look away at the ghostly visage as he took a deep breath.
“You smell good enough to eat,” he said.
You sighed and finally blinked. “You don’t look so bad yourself,” you said.
“Safe word?” He asked.
“Halloween,” you said.
Terry nodded and then walked around in a circle, perusing your body as if you were on display. He hand followed behind him, reaching out to run his rough, callused fingers across your bare belly. “Gorgeous,” he said.
Fuck, you were ready to burst right out of your skin. This entire week had been nothing but foreplay to you. He gave instructions and a list of things to obtain for him, things he wanted you to choose so that you knew exactly what was coming.
“What are you going to do now?” You asked. You felt like he could hear your audible gulp. Swallowing around the thick cord of lust zapping through your body and making it hard to breathe properly. You were on the edge, itchy with the need to cum, but knowing that it would only happen when he decided.
“Where’s the rope?” He asked. You felt behind you on the dresser for the silk rope he asked you to pick out. Something soft and easily adjustable so that you could escape at any moment. If this continued, you’d work your way up to more hardcore stuff. Hand over more and more of yourself.
Your fingers clasped clumsily around the rope and held it up. Terry leaned to one side and tilted his head once more, playing with the edge of the knife. “Put it on,” he commanded.
You licked your lips and slipped the silk rope around your wrists and tightened it. Terry crooked his finger and you walked forward immediately. No use pretending that this wasn’t exactly what you craved.
Terry had set a neat trap in his messages and voice notes to you. The late night calls where his sinful voice rocked you to sleep. He made it easy to surrender. To give in. To cast off all of the doubt and anxiousness. Now you just wanted to feel. To listen. To shut your brain off for half a second and enjoy yourself.
Terry tugged you forward by the silk rope, testing the limit and resistance on it. You almost hated that you couldn’t see his pretty face. But you’d cum so many times to his pictures that you had it committed to memory.
Terry pulled you forward with the rope, pulling you over to your bed and pushed you down. You bounced with a gasp, your titties bouncing with the movement. Terry stepped into your personal space, leaning down and pressing the cold metal of the knife against your throat. You moaned, feeling the knife slide across your skin. He barely grazed you but it was the dark promise of it that turned you on.
That you were a hair’s breadth away from mortal danger. That at any moment, he could press deeper and draw blood. You whimpered as your body overheated. You burned from the inside out, sweat breaking out in patches all over your body.
“Terry,” you moaned.
Terry moved the knife down to trail over the swells of your breasts. Your chest rose and fell in choppy waves, getting too excited before he had a chance to do anything. He slipped the knife beneath your bra and you moaned, arching your chest into the knife.
“You’re too trusting,” he said. He palmed your breasts roughly, finding your nipples through the fabric of your bra and squeezing painfully. You cried out, trying to close your legs but he had encroached upon your space without you realizing. You had been too busy focusing on the knife and his mask.
He tossed the knife onto the bed and gripped your thighs, spreading you open and yanking you to the edge of the bed. The music still playing in the background only added to the scene, getting you further into the mood.
I know you like it nasty.
Nasty by Joshua Williams began to play, juices slipping between your legs and soaking your panties.
Terry pushed the seat of your panties to the side, trailing his fingers through your wet folds. “Oh, fuck,” you whispered, whimpering as your hands flew to his to stall his movements. He ignored you, smacking your hands away.
“Push them titties up and keep your hands there,” he said.
You grabbed your titties and pushed them together. Terry groaned, leaning forward. His thick fingers played you like a fiddle, gathering up your slick. He shoved two fingers inside and you cried out, body arching. Your hands slipped from holding your titties.
“Put your hand back. Don’t make me tell you again,” he growled.
You whimpered and replaced your hands on your chest. You turned pleading, doe eyes towards him. Terry leaned down and rubbed the mask against your cheek. You shivered from the unexpected coolness of it. It did little to dampen the heat in your veins. The fire in your lower belly.
“Nice and fuckin’ wet. All of this for me?” Terry asked.
You nodded. “Yes, yes,” you said. His fingers worked liquid magic on your pussy, making you soak his fingers with how long and deep his fingers went. You opened your mouth, arching your back and grinding on his fingers. He stroked until you were shaking and moaning on his fingers.
“Gonna stretch the fuck outta this pretty pussy,” he promised. He withdrew his fingers and then shoved his fingers into your mouth, forcing you to taste yourself. Taste how wet he made you. Taste how turned on you were under his control.
He ripped at your panties and you gasped at the shredding sound, knees trying to close around his massive frame. His narrow hips kept you spread open. He moaned, getting his first look at your pussy. “Look at that shit. My needy little slut,” he groaned.
Your pussy clenched as he unzipped his pants, jerking it down his hips and revealing his long, thick dick. Your eyes widened taking in the size and girth of him. His balls were big and heavy, drooping and tapping against his strong thighs.
He slapped his dick against your pussy, competing with the music. You moaned with each wet smack, hearing how turned on you were. Your taste was still on your tongue, in your nose, and you closed your eyes to all of the sensations.
Terry pushed you onto your back and slapped his dick against your pussy once more, your juices jumping from the action. Your teeth chattered, unbridled desire coursing through you and driving your pleasure higher and higher.
It’d been too long since you came. Too long since you felt that rush of relief and you were ready to leap from your skin.
Terry grabbed the knife and slipped it beneath your bra. He cut it loose and you cried out, your titties free and spilling out from either side of the cups. Terry groaned, pushing his hips in before catching himself.
He palmed himself with his other hand and guided himself inside, placing the knife against your skin but keeping his fingers there as a barrier so that it wasn’t directly on you. Just held above your skin as a silent threat.
He was so big, you cried out, holding up your hands. Terry ignored you, pushing in deeper and retreated to give you a tiny breather. He grunted and tried again, getting deeper this time.
“Too big,” you moaned, your eyes turning watery at the slow burn working its way through your midsection.
“I’ll make it fit, don’t worry,” he cooed. He dived back in, giving you shallow strokes. It became easier to take him with every downward stroke, and your thighs clenched around his hips.
He used his left hand to slide down your thigh, up your calf, and pull your foot to his face. He rubbed the mask against your foot, lifting your leg higher to sit against his chest. It opened you up further to him, allowing him to nearly reach the base inside you. He was close to bottoming out.
You were crying, whimpering, shivering on his dick as it throbbed the more it slid in and out of you. Terry’s moans rivaled yours. He threw his head back and sank in deeper.
“Oh, fuck, god, damn, fuck, shit,” you whimpered, out of breath and half delirious. The stretch was perfect. Stuffing you completely full of dick.
“That’s a good pussy. Taking what I’m giving you. Feel me in this pussy?” He asked.
“Yes, yes, I feel you,” you cried, tears gathering in your eyes once more. You were driven out of your mind. Body weightless, limitless, stretching your awareness beyond what you could sense. It was metaphysical. Like your soul found his and stitched you together the more he stroked deep inside.
Terry moved the knife up to your cheek. He pushed your face to the side, exposing your neck. He trailed the knife close to your neck. You clenched around him and he moaned, picking up the pace and ramming inside of you.
He fucked you like you had him fucked up. Like he missed you. Like you intentionally kept yourself away from him and he was back to stake his claim. To draw a line in the dirt and dare you to disobey.
“Oh, shit. Ouee, shit. Ouee, shit, fuck you feel so good,” you moaned.
“You look so pretty taking dick. Getting my dick fuckin’ creamy. Can’t stop staring at how much every time I pull out,” he said.
You lifted your hands, intending to push him away. You were close to another orgasm and it was coming too fast. Too fast for you to brace for.
“Move that hand or I will,” he huffed, harsh moans and panting making you sick with desire. Your pussy squelched from the pressure of him entering you.
You moved your hands, holding it above your head. “Ouee, fuck. That dick feels too good,” you whimpered.
“That’s all yours,” he said.
You tensed up, careening head first into the orgasm and crying out, screaming to the ceiling from the intensity. You flopped around on his dick like a fish out of water and Terry continued to fuck you through it, moving the knife when necessary when it appeard you’d get too close.
Terry withdrew and tossed the knife back on the bed. He gripped your hips and flipped you over, re-entering you and you screamed. He matched you with a moan. “Fuck. So fuckin’ good. So fuckin’ wet. Fuckin’ me getting you this wet?” Terry asked.
You nodded and stretched your hands above you. You arched your back, giving him full access to your ass. His large hand came down to smack your ass, causing it to sting with pain. You hissed, not expecting the bite of pain. You flooded his dick once more, fresh juices leaking out of you.
“Oh fuck! Terry! Please, no more,” you cried out. You didn’t have another one.
Terry leaned down, pressing his lips close to your ear. “Aww, you think I care. Come on pretty girl, move that ass. Come get yours,” he said.
You shook your head. You didn’t have enough to hold yourself up with. Each thrust sent you into the bed, fucking you into the matress with unrelenting speed. Your body flushed with heat, great licks of fire. Still, you managed to throw it back on him. Matching his thrusts.
“That’s it. Soak this dick, pretty. Bouncing pretty on this fuckin’ dick. Unf, fuck. Takin’ me very well. You takin’ what I’m giving you?” Terry moaned.
How did he expect you to answer him at the moment? Your mind was gone, down into another plane of existence. He gripped your ass cheeks and spread them. He lifted his right hand and then quickly pressed his wet digit against your asshole, pressing in. You fell forward and he followed you down. He continued to stroke, sliding in and out of you, punishing you with his dick whether you could keep up or not.
The pressure was new, weird, but oh so fucking good when he pressed in deeper. You felt full. Stuffed completely.
“Give me another one,” he commanded.
“Can’t,” you gasped, your face smooshed into the comforter.
Terry gripped your hair with his free hand and yanked, bending you at a weird angle. He didn’t care. “I’m gonna paint this fuckin’ pussy with this nut. But you’re going to give me another one first,” he said, voice low and scraping against your eardrums in the most pleasurable way.
He wiggled his finger in your ass and you moaned, tensed up, and screamed with your orgasm. Your eyes burned as you screamed, loudly, shaking uncontrollably on his dick. “There it is. Fuck you think you are making me wait?” He asked and yanked on your hair to the point of pain.
“Sorrrryyyyyy,” you moaned as you came and came. He fucked you through it, chasing his own pleasure in your body. Burying his dick to the hilt and unloading with a deep, powerful growl erupting from his thick chest.
His cum shot inside you like it was a race to get you pregnant then and there. Your brain turned fuzzy, eyes turning black in the corners and he came and came with seemingly no end in sight.
“That’y my good fuckin’ slut,” Terry growled low in your ear.
“Fuck,” you whimpered.
Terry pumped his hips a few more times before withdrawing from your body. He stepped back to admire his handiwork. Your pussy clenched as you pushed his cum out. He encouraged you, telling you to try to work every drop out.
He flipped you back onto your back. He grabbed you by the silk rope still tied around your hands and pulled you to your feet with one bicep curl. You moaned. Fuck. You’d go another round if you were able. You needed him back inside. Your pussy was unbearably achy, twitchy, needy.
You whimpered and cried as he pushed you to your knees. “Open your mouth,” he ordered.
You opened, staring up at him. He dug his fingers into your hair, pulling you forward. He tapped his dick against your lips, painting it with a mix of his cum and your essence. He shoved his dick inside and moaned, throwing his head back while you sucked him off.
You braced your fingers around his long legs, dusted with hair. You held on as he face fucked you, feeding you his dick.
“Get it nice and clean,” he cooed, at complete odds with the way he shoved past your resistance. You moaned, turning watery eyes to him. His mask was frozen in fake sympathy. He tilted his head at you, thrusting along with fucking your mouth.
“Perfect. You’re perfect,” he moaned. You reached out and touched his balls. His hips jerked forward and you gagged, body rejecting him. “Fuuuck.” His moan tugged at your throbbing clit.
Saliva dribbled down the sides of your mouth, onto your chin, and dripped onto your titties still bouncing in the bra he cut through. You felt his cum leak out of your pussy, likely falling onto the floor.
“Pretty fuckin’ mess too. I’m finna bust. Swallow it,” he said.
You nodded on his dick. He thrust a handful more times before he burst in your mouth, stuffing more cum into your body. You swallowed it all, letting the sticky substance slide hungrily down your throat.
His hips stroked absently, like he couldn’t make himself stop even if he wanted to. He slowed down, pulling his dick past your lips slowly. You let him go with a wet pop. Terry cleaned the corners of your mouth with his fingers.
He dropped into a squat, as much as his pants would allow. He took off the mask letting you get a glimpse of that beautiful, sexy face of his. His eyes were narrowed, intense, focused as he smirked at you. He had permanent bedroom eyes. As if he were just waking up or just falling asleep. No in-between.
He smirked at you. “Ready for round two?”
The end.
Ya'll know I can't leave this man aloneeee. The Secret Terry Richmond Files
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