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tonycries · 10 months ago

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A Picture Lasts Long (But Not As Long As That D*ck)

Synopsis. Smile for the camera - as best you can when you’re being absolutely wrecked in all sorts of ways underneath them anyway!

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Choso x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Geto x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, exhibitionism (Toji’s), mutual másturbation, phone séx, créampie, oral (female + male receiving), vibrators, bóudoir, manhandling, marking, Gojo is a menace, fíngering, dp, face-sitting, some HEINOUS things, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 3.8k

A/N. Was gonna add Sukuna but I feel like he’d hate modern technology.

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - The internet sensation

“Whaddaya say, you horny fuckers? Think she deserves to cum?”

Now, Toji Fushiguro is always one for extra cash. Who wasn’t, really? So when you approached him with a devious idea, well, how could he ever say no to his pretty girl?

He just didn’t think he’d be here - your bare legs splayed out on his lap, dripping cunt spread so shamefully, buzzing vibrator deafening over your pretty moans - all in front of that blinking camera. And the hundreds of thousands behind it.

“T-Toji, wan’ cum. Wanna cum so bad, please.” you mewl. Big, fat tears dripping down your cheeks at the way he’s been teasing you for so long now. You can barely make out the rush of comments flashing across the screen.

The camera captures everything so sinfully well. The way your cunt is completely soaked, clenching desperately around nothing as Toji slides the vibrator along your swollen folds. Circling your needy hole, just grazing your swollen clit. Teasing them just as much as you.

Pathetic fuckers, he thinks, but entertains their desperate comments anyway.

“Hmm, they’re saying I should let you cum, pretty.” he whispers in your ear, low and hoarse with need. “Saying I should be ‘nice.’”

He brings the vibrator - now glistening with your slick - to his lips. Licking a long, languid stripe up it, collecting your sweet juices on his tongue. Turning it ever-so-slightly towards the camera to show off what the fuckers behind it will never get, he hums dangerously, “What do you think, my girl?”

You gasp out a sob, uselessly trying to buck your hips toward where you needed him the most. “Please, Toji. Wanna cum, I’ll do anything.”

“Oh yeah?” he chuckles, spreading your legs open even further with a feral groan.

In one, fluid motion, he buries the vibrator deep in your dripping cunt, relishing the surprised yelp that leaves your swollen lips. “Then show ‘em how much you like it, pretty. How much you love me not being ‘nice.’”

And that’s all that is said before he’s fucking you into you at an urgent, sinful pace. Pulling out all the way till the buzzing tip just circles your swollen folds, ramming into you with no care or concern for the burning stretch. Toji knew you liked it - besides, it was half the size of him anyway.

“C’mon, smile for the camera, pretty.” he grunts into your ear, “Tell ‘em how I make m’girl feel.”

You can barely choke out, “Ah! Oh- shit. S’good. Hngh-”

Blood rushes straight to his cock at the way you were taking it like such a good girl. Head lolling against his muscled shoulder as Toji pushes the vibrator in and out in and out in and-

“Yeah? Who makes you feel this good?”

Angling it just right to expertly hit against that one spot he knew would have your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“Ngh- Ah! You!” you whine, thighs quivering at both the burn of being so spread open and the electricity coursing through your veins at Toji’s relentless pace. Mind spinning, vision blurring, you barely register the hand snaking its way down down down.

A harsh thumb pressing down hard on your throbbing clit. “Wha- Toji hah-” you squeal as he starts drawing slow, tight little circles on it. Lazy and languid where he was fucking into you mercilessly like you were his lil’ toy right below.

“Tha’s right, my girl. Say it for all those lonely little fuckers behind the camera to hear.” He doesn’t stop thrusting the vibrator into you, instead speeding up his movements impossibly at the lewd squelches filling the heady air.

“You. No one- else- hngh-” you moan softly hips bucking up in tandem with his hand. “M’gonna- Ah ngh- m’gonna-”

“Say my name, pretty.”

“T-Toji! Hah-” you squeal deliriously, cumming desperately around the buzzing vibrator. Walls clenching as he continues to fuck you through it. A smug little smirk on his face as he watches the way your eyes flutter closed, body bowing jerkily into his.

Ah, you look so pretty like this. Those losers behind the screen were probably at the gates of heaven already.

In the haze of your orgasm, you barely hear the low murmur from above you. “Now, you horny fuckers. Think her pretty hole can take my cock at the same time?”

♡ GETO SUGURU - The secret album

Geto Suguru doesn’t let anyone touch his phone - especially his photo gallery. Always turning off the screen from prying eyes, pocketing it safely before flashing an innocent grin.

But why? That one time Shoko stole his phone while he was in the bathroom revealed only a few blurry, aesthetic shots of you, the sky, and you. So what did that man have to hide?

Well, what she didn’t know is had she scrolled down just a bit more - before Geto ripped the phone from her hands - she’d have come across the treasure trove named with a simple “Love.”

Not one, not even tens - but hundreds upon hundreds of videos of you all falling apart underneath him.

Most of them favorited, all of them sorted so meticulously according to his tastes in a way that showed he spent an obscene amount of time looking at all the ways he ruined you. But it wasn’t enough to capture your perfection. It never was.

Which is probably why Geto had you sitting prettily on his face, juices spreading so lewdly across his mouth as he tonguefucked you into insanity.

The video was shaky, focusing in and out of the way your bruised lips dropped into a soft oh! as he bullies past your swollen folds.

It zooms in on the dazed expression on your face, eyes miles away. “Oh, Suguru. M-more” your broken moans crackle through the speaker. Just barely capturing the soft ah! ah! ah! escaping your lips each time Geto’s tongue dips into your sloppy hole.

Oh, this video was definitely going in his favorites.

“Take the phone, love. Show the camera how good I make you feel.” he murmurs into your dripping cunt, words hoarse with desire.

And Geto might love you on film - but this was your favorite part. When the camera flips and you see him in all his disheveled, sinful glory. “Ah- y’look so pretty under me, Sugu.”

Dark hair splayed out on the pillow, stray strands sticking to his forehead as he looks at you with hazy, pussy-drunk eyes. His ringed fingers holding your thighs apart in a bruising grip. Lips glossy and swollen as they continue their abuse on your ravaged pussy.

Flattening his tongue along your swollen folds, sliding teasingly between them. Your slick glistens in the dim lighting, dripping down down down the lower half of his face.

And Geto, well, looks like he’s absolutely in heaven. Eyes rolling to the back of his head as he licks at his girl’s pretty cunt, tipping his head back further just to let your sweet juices slide down his throat.

You’re so focused on how pretty he looks that you almost miss the long fingers deftly snaking their way along your thigh. Spreading your swollen folds apart with his thumbs, he whispers raspily, “Shit. No video in the world can capture how pretty you look like this, love.”

The pure look of admiration has the camera shaking, and you sputtering out, “Wha- Suguru what nonsense-”

“Shhh, my girl. Lemme take care of it.”

And with that he’s sinking knuckle-deep into your pussy, while his ruby lips wrapping around your swollen clit. Zooming in desperately on the way he rolls his tongue harshly along it, sucking so sensually. Like a man starved.

“Ah- hngh, Sugu. Feel s’good.” you gasp as he starts thrusting his fingers inside you. God, you don’t know how you don’t drop the phone at this point, white-hot jolts of pleasure running up your spine from where Geto was making out so sloppily with your cunt.

Tears sting your eyes as he curls his fingers just right to brush against that one spot that has you bucking into his mouth for more more more- Hitting it over and over-

Fingers tangling in his silky hair, the video grainy with movement as you use it as leverage to grind deeper into Geto’s face. Chasing your high with an almost-embarrassing neediness. Close. So close.

A muffled, “Cum f’me, love. Cum for the camera.”

And then you’re cumming. Stars behind your eyes, and Geto’s hungry gaze searing into your brain - and the video - as you chase peak after peak on his pretty face, grinding down desperately. Your vision is hazy, head spinning.

But Geto’s is decidedly not as he quickly skims through the obscene video, lips still attached with yours.

Ah, damn these cameras. No matter how high quality, he could never quite capture the delicate trail of drool decorating the corner of your lips. Or the exact pattern of the neat crescents that your nails leave on his chest.

They could ever quite capture the perfection that was you.

But it’s fine.

That’s what multiple takes are for, right?

♡ NANAMI KENTO - The photographer

Nanami Kento wasn’t into photography - which didn’t quite explain the tripod and hefty camera set sitting in the corner of his office.

No, he was more into absolutely fucking ruining you in front of the camera just to capture a semblance of how heavenly you look for him. Which, well, explains the countless framed photographs decorating the walls of his often-locked office. Nothing extremely explicit - but enough to make a stray onlooker blush and look away.

And well, how could you say no? Especially when he had you bent over his desk, leaking tip dragging teasingly along your swollen folds, camera aimed right at the way you lean into his cock.

Cold tabletop digging into your skin, his fingers warm on your pulsing clit. Drawing tight, methodical little circles. So like him.

“C’mon, darling. Arch your back more f’me like a good girl.” he murmurs lowly, breath hot against your ear.

As if on autopilot, you press further into his swollen cock. Sliding it deftly between your folds, just aching for any bit of friction. “K-Kento, please-.” you babble, delirious from him and his piercing gaze and him.

“Mhm, spread your legs more f’me. Yeah, jus’ like that, darling.” he mutters, voice steady with the audacity of someone that wasn’t grinding his rock-hard cock into your dripping cunt. Hips moving in shallow, mindless little motions despite himself. Yet, holding back so agonizingly.

So, you take matters into your own hands.

Slowly, purposefully, you lift yourself higher, arching so desperately into Nanami’s throbbing cock. The soft little bump! bump! bump! of him pulsing against your walls a tempo that you were losing your sanity to. And if you were in any better state of mind, you’d be almost embarrassed by how needy you were acting. “Kento! Wan’ you to fuck me alre-”

You don’t get to finish the sentence, because Nanami only takes a second to snap back his hips before pressing into your dripping cunt. The stretch of your walls absolutely addictive.

Click!

Ah, there was the perfect shot.

All the blood rushes to Nanami’s cock at what showed on the screen - the exact moment that he split you apart on his cock. Your eyes wide, mouth parted ever-so-slightly, such an obscene mixture of shock and ecstacy painted across your face.

His girl was so beautiful. Especially when she was stuffed full of his cock.

“This is what you wanted, right?”

One hand steady on the camera, the other pulls you deeper onto his cock as Nanami begins to move inside you. Pulling out all the way till his leaking tip is just circling your sloppy entrance - only to ram his length into you mercilessly.

“My girl wanted to be full of my cock?” he hums darkly, “S’full she can barely even speak?” Hungry eyes devour the way your pretty pussy was milking him so greedily, barely even letting him pull out to fuck back into you harder than before.

“Ah! Yes- hah-” you breathe out, “”Wanted hngh- s’bad-”

He maps every curve and dip of the way you grind down onto his cock, taking in the obscenely heavenly sight of his cock disappearing into your pretty pussy - and so does the camera.

Click!

Another one - your eyes locked onto Nanami’s. Dripping cunt just barely in the frame as he continues ravaging you from behind.

Back arched, such a sinful little expression on your face as you buck your hips wildly to meet his thrusts. As frantic as the hasty little movements of his thumb on your throbbing clit - not even circles anymore, just sloppy, sinful motions to get you off.

“Hah- please Kento,”

Click! Click!

Oh, if Nanami had it his way these photos would decorate every hallway of this house. For everyone to see.

“Wanna- hngh- wanna cum, Kento.” you mewl, ass stinging from where Nanami’s toned pelvis smacked yours at a ceaseless, maddening cadence. Clit now ravaged from both his ruthless abuse and the heavy balls smacking against it with each thrust.

Click! Click! Click!

“Then cum, darling.”

You see stars behind your eyes as you cum - or maybe that was the unforgiving camera. Capturing each and every detail of the way eyes, dazed and fucked-out, lock onto Nanami’s. Swollen lips dropping into such a pretty oh, Kento! Pushing yourself from the desk on shaky arms to arch so sinfully as Nanami goes over the edge as well.

Camera shaky for the first time as he twitches inside you savagely, before pumping thick, hot ropes of cum into your quivering walls. Trickling down your legs so lewdly, pooling at the sterile floors below - a problem for later.

Click! Ah, another gem for his walls.

♡ CHOSO KAMO - The urgent calls

When Choso video calls you, you know never to answer in public. Why? Well…

“Cho, what is- Oh.” Your words catch in your throat as you take in the absolutely sinful sight on your screen, cunt clenching in anticipation as you slowly bury deeper into your covers.

Legs spread on the bed, such a pretty blush dusting his face, throbbing erection leaking furiously on his toned abs - your boyfriend was an absolute vision.

“Baby…” he whines, sending a jolt of pleasure right down to your cunt. “Was missin’ you today.”

Ah, you can’t help but tease him a bit. Raising a brow, “Oh really?”

Despite his absolutely ravaged state, Choso finds it in himself to scoff, “M’serious. Jus’ thinking about that slutty pink bra you had on today. How much better it would look on my bedroom floor.”

A large hand makes its way on screen, deftly snaking down his milky skin - down, down down all the way from his abs, resting just at the tufts of black hair at his toned pelvis. Waiting. Teasing.

Now it was your turn to scoff, pussy twinging impatiently at the way he was so stubbornly waiting for you to break first. Well, two can play that game.

Unbuttoning your shirt slowly - so agonizingly slowly - revealing just a flash of that pink he wanted so bad. That rips a low groan out of Choso, precum smearing on his palm as he squeezes his swollen cock. Success.

“C’mon now, baby, don’t tease. Be a good girl f’me.”

Batting your lashes mockingly, “You first.”

You always did know how to get what you want, huh? Because with an impatient little grunt, Choso spits a steady stream of saliva once, twice onto his furiously red cock.

Your mouth waters as he grips the base tight, so achingly hard and flushed your favorite shade of pretty pink. Precum leaking down his glistening veins, pooling at the heavy balls that twitch at the mere sound of your voice as you mutter, “Oh. You really did miss me.”

“Mhm, your turn.” he gets out through a low hiss, desperation bleeding through your speakers and into the heady air. Starting to pull on his cock in shallow, mindless little tugs - just the way you do it.

Finally relenting, you slip off your top, reaching for the clasp behind your when-

“Keep it on. Now spread your pretty legs for me, baby.”

Choso’s greedy eyes are locked on the screen as you flip the camera, showing off your already-soaked panties. Oh, you little minx.

“Shit. You don’ know what you do to me, baby.” he groans, movements getting jerkier. Fist flying up and down his cock - just wishing his hands were yours. Ah, how yours would be softer, prettier, straining to cup his thick cock. “C’mon now, my girl. Show me you wan’ me just as much.”

God, Choso thinks he could cum right on the spot as you hastily remove your wet panties, delicate trails of slick connecting them to your pretty cunt as you slide it down your legs. Yet, he manages to find it in himself to grit out a low, “Touch yourself the way I would, baby.”

And, well, you don’t need to be told twice.

Bullying your fingers through your swollen folds, thumb just grazing your throbbing clit. Purposefully teasing yourself - purposefully not giving in to what you craved so bad. No, you were too entranced with what was onscreen.

With the way Choso was fucking his fist so desperately. Like he was trying to fuck something delicious out. Harder on the base, featherlight on his flushed head. Thumb teasing under the slit just the way you would.

“Shit- Oh, baby,” Choso groans, his hips bucking wildly as if he could somehow close the distance between you. His grip on his cock almost painful as he pounds into his hand. Ah, how you wish that was your hand instead.

Your fingers dip lower, rubbing your entrance. A thrill running through you at the way Choso’s eyes widen as you slide a finger inside yourself with a whine of his name.

“Need you here with me, need to feel you around me,” you pant, rubbing against your clit in time with his fist, eyes locked on the way his throbbing cock twitches in his hands at the mere sound of your voice. Palm running up and down up and-

“Choso, just come here an’ fuck me already.”

You catch a glimpse of his eyes flickering closed, breath slowing, a satisfied smile curling his lips and then- thick spurts of cum covering his toned abs. Glistening so deliciously in the dim lighting as Choso strokes himself through his high.

You on the other hand…

“Cho~ Can’t cum without you here.” you hum coyly, slightly whiny yet not desperate - not yet.

“Get ready, baby. M’gonna be there in five.” Ah, how you loved when Choso video calls you.

♡ GOJO SATORU - The wallpaper fiend

Gojo Satoru loved to show off his wallpaper, babbling about his “beautiful girlfriend” as he flashed the picture to any and everyone he came across.

It wasn’t anything strange, really - just a slightly blurry photo of the upper half of your head, eyes slightly scrunched like you were in the depths of laughter. It’s only when someone stares too hard, finger pressing just a bit too long that Gojo snatches back his phone with an unreadable little smirk.

Because if they had they’d notice it was a live wallpaper.

One that - despite being so proudly the great Gojo Satoru’s wallpaper - was for only his eyes to see. One where the camera shifts ever-so-slightly downwards to show you splayed out deliciously on your mattress, pale, sculpted thighs straddling your face - zooming in on the way your swollen lips bulge wraps so lewdly around his throbbing cock.

“Oh, sweetheart, jus’ look at you.” his voice rumbles from above, voice hoarse with desire. “Taking my cock so well, huh?”

All he gets are muffled groans, tears glistening in your eyes as Gojo shoves his length deeper down your throat. He chuckles lightly, fucking into your hot mouth in small grinds of his hips, “Oh yeah, forgot you can’t speak sweetheart.”

Ah, what a smug bastard. And despite the dick lodged in your throat, you find it in yourself to stare up defiantly into his greedy gaze, moaning sinfully around him. That makes that confident facade crumble a little, the camera is shaky as Gojo lets out a broken little, “Sh-shit. You’re really asking for it.”

And maybe you were a mastermind - maybe you were an idiot. Because Gojo pulls his hips back till his leaking tip is just kissing your kiss-bitten lips. Smearing his precum around your glossy mouths. Only to slam back into you mercilessly, forcing you to relax your throat - because Gojo’s had enough of playing game

His searing grip on your scalp just out of the frame as he fucks into your mouth like his personal toy. Not stopping till your nose is pressed into the snowy white tufts of hair at his pelvis.

Camera scrambling to capture the way your throat bulges so obscenely as he fills you up, starting to fuck into you in shallow, mindless little thrusts. “Mmm, ngh. Fuck, sweetheart. Can feel me inside you right…” A large, veiny hand makes its way into the video as it wraps around your throat, squeezing. Tight. “...here.” Gojo rasps over your choked-up moans.

Tears were streaming down your face now, nails digging desperately into the hand wrapped around your throat. But it seems Gojo had no care in the world for them. Because he coos mockingly, “Awww, don’ cry, sweetheart. Jus’ look at that slutty mouth of yours, sucking the fucking soul out of me.”

And as the screen grows grainier, the camerawork more shaky - Gojo’s hips grow more frantic.

Cock hitting the back of your throat at a maddening cadence in a way he wishes the camera could pick up. Hand tightening around your throat as he fucks into you faster and deeper. Hip chasing the feeling of your tongue wrapped so deliciously around his throbbing cock. Delicately tracing the veins along the side, flicking his sensitive slit just the way you know he likes. Over and over-

The screen flashes white - or maybe that was just Gojo’s cum. Shooting thick, endless spurts of his seed that paint your pretty face white. And oh, this was his favorite part, how you take it so well.

Your tongue darting out to catch the stream of cum that gushes out of him, pooling it on your tongue before letting it slide to the back of your throat. Eyes gazing up so eagerly into his as you stick your tongue out to show, well, nothing. Taking him up so greedily.

And if Gojo was any less of a man, he’d be showing this off to everyone he knew. And in the end, before the wallpaper goes back to that seemingly innocent picture of your face - if he turned up the volume real high - Gojo could hear his voice in the background, breathing out through ragged gasps. “C’mon, sweetheart, I wanna make a few more wallpapers.”

A/N. LMAO this came to me when I thought about how Gojo is the type to have a polaroid of your tits behind his phone case.

Plagiarism not authorized.

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santaasi · 1 month ago

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obviously blind

pairing: james potter x bsf!fem!reader

summary: for years, james potter thought he was chasing love. sirius black knew better — he’d been holding it all along.

warnings: fluff fluff fluff, friends to lovers, idiots in love, james calls reader love, no use of y/n, english isn’t my first language

word count: 11.3k

a/n: it was probably the longest idea to write and edit. i rewrote every moment a bunch of times trying to bring it all to perfection. therefore, this time I hope more than ever that you will like it and you will support me with a like, comment or reblog. have a nice time reading this work! love u <3

ᯓ★ now playing…

slaves – footprints

You left your mark on me like footprints in the snow

Would you promise me you'll never let me go

November 15, 1971 My dear best friend, Hogwarts is brilliant! You should see the castle; it’s massive, with these moving staircases that sometimes take you to places you didn’t even mean to go! I tried to get to Charms class last week and ended up in the Trophy Room instead. Sirius says it’s part of the fun, and I’m starting to agree. Speaking of fun, I made a new friend! His name’s Sirius Black, and he’s a bit of a troublemaker like me. Don’t tell Mum, but we might’ve let some Filibuster’s Fireworks off in the Great Hall during lunch. The teachers were furious, but the look on their faces was worth it. How’s Beauxbatons? Is it true your castle is magical in a totally different way? Sirius said something about unicorns roaming the grounds. Is that real? Write me everything—I want to know what it’s like over there. Hope you’re having as much fun as I am. Forever yours, Jamie

SIRIUS BLACK WAS UTTERLY SPENT. Not the charming, rakish kind of spent he might brag about after a late night of mischief, but truly, completely, soul-drainingly done. The journey to the Potter family cottage, which should have been a brisk jaunt, had turned into a Herculean trial. Blame the snowstorm that had swept through magical London like some vengeful Norse curse, burying everything in its path under heaps of frosty misery.

It started with a delayed train — no, not delayed, imprisoned. Sirius and James were already aboard when the announcement came, trapping them in a stuffy carriage surrounded by loudly complaining wizards and at least one crying baby. And because the universe clearly found Sirius’ misery entertaining, the train came to a jolting halt halfway to their destination, snow packing the tracks so thickly that it took hours of magical clearing before they moved again.

When they finally arrived at the station, they discovered that Mr. Potter, their much-needed savior with a warm car and a better attitude than either of them, had been delayed at work. Thus, Sirius and James were left to trudge through the snow-laden countryside, dragging their trunks behind them, with James’ endless chatter about Lily Evans ringing in Sirius’ ears like a persistent curse.

“Her smile, Padfoot,” James had sighed dreamily at least seventeen times, his glasses fogging up as if even thinking about Lily caused them to malfunction. “And the way she tucks her hair behind her ear when she’s concentrating—”

By the sixteenth sigh, Sirius had been sorely tempted to shove a fistful of snow into James’ face. By the seventeenth, he was mentally composing a list of Unforgivable Curses and ranking them by efficiency. Yet, even as he grumbled under his breath, Sirius couldn’t bring himself to abandon the trek. The Potters were the closest thing he had to a family, and spending Christmas anywhere else — no matter how dire the journey — was unthinkable.

When they finally reached the Potter home, Sirius didn’t so much step inside as collapse into it. He shoved the front door open with the dramatic flair of a man escaping death itself and sprawled across the polished wooden floor like a martyr for his own cause. His trunk fell beside him with a satisfying thud.

“Home at last,” he groaned, voice muffled against the rug. “Tell me, Prongs, do they serve last rites before cinnamon rolls, or do we skip straight to the feast?”

The cottage, of course, was as warm and welcoming as Sirius remembered. Strings of fairy lights twinkled across the beams, casting a cozy glow of red, gold, and green. A holly wreath hung crookedly on the wall — lil’James’ handiwork, no doubt — and the scent of pine mingled with the tantalizing aroma of cinnamon, butter, and something sweet. Sirius’ stomach growled audibly.

“Oi, shut it, you ungrateful mutt,” James shot back with a grin, though Sirius could see his friend’s eyes darting toward the kitchen. “You’re embarrassing us in front of the wreath.”

James hadn’t even set his trunk down before a figure appeared in the doorway.

At first, Sirius barely registered her presence. He was too busy muttering about the injustice of underage magic restrictions. But then — oh, then — she stepped fully into view.

A girl.

Not just any girl, but you.

You moved with a kind of quiet confidence that Sirius instantly clocked, your steps unhurried, your presence undeniable. The golden glow of the fairy lights danced across your hair, giving it a shimmer that seemed almost unreal. You were wrapped in a deep blue jumper — Sirius realized this after a moment’s brain lag — and your cheeks were rosy, likely from the heat of the kitchen.

You carried a tray of steaming cinnamon rolls, the scent of melted sugar and spice trailing after you like some kind of domestic enchantment. Sirius’ mouth went dry, and for the first time in years, he was at a loss for words.

“Well,” he managed after a beat, hauling himself upright and trying for a semblance of decorum. “Now I see why you were so keen to come home, Prongs. You’ve got cinnamon-roll-bearing angels dropping out of the sky.”

You laughed, soft and melodic, the sound so unguarded it seemed to wrap the room in warmth. Sirius couldn’t help but notice the way your lips curled into a smile that was equal parts inviting and mysterious.

“Hello to you too, Sirius,” you said, your voice carrying a familiarity that made his ears perk up.

Sirius blinked. Wait. Of course. This wasn’t some celestial being summoned to his rescue; this was James’ childhood best friend. The one James had vaguely mentioned — just a handful of times over the years, always in passing and with a strange softness that Sirius hadn’t thought to question before.

And yet, here you were. In the flesh. Standing in the middle of the Potters’ living room with a tray of baked goods and a smile that Sirius suspected had the power to stop traffic.

“Well, well, Jamie-boy,” Sirius drawled, nudging James with his elbow and watching his friend with amused curiosity. “You never told me the famous cinnamon-roll angel was also — what’s the word? Ah, yes — real.”

You raised an eyebrow at Sirius’ antics, though your smile didn’t falter. Instead, you glanced toward James, who looked like he’d been hit with a Confundus Charm.

Sirius smirked. “James, mate, you alright? You’ve gone all... slack-jawed.”

But James wasn’t paying him any attention. His hazel eyes were locked on you, wide and brimming with something Sirius couldn’t quite place. He watched as James' gaze traced over the streak of flour smudged on your cheek, the stray strands of hair escaping from your ponytail, and the red apron dusted with flour and cinnamon.

Sirius almost snorted aloud. This was the James Potter who couldn’t shut up about Lily Evans — the boy who spent half his waking hours plotting ways to win her over. And yet, here he was, staring at you like you’d just descended from the heavens.

“Jamie,” you said softly, setting the tray down on the nearby table.

It was just one word, but the way you said it — warm, tender, and utterly unguarded — sent a jolt through Sirius.

Before he could process what was happening, James crossed the room in a few long strides and swept you into his arms. You squealed in surprise, and the sound was pure delight, echoing off the walls.

Sirius blinked, startled. The way James held you — hands firm on your waist, his head dipping into the crook of your neck — wasn’t friendly, not by a long shot. Sirius had known James since he was eleven years old, had seen him charm and flirt with half of Hogwarts, but he had never seen this.

“Missed me, Jamie?” you teased, your fingers slipping into his unruly hair with the kind of ease that spoke of years of familiarity.

“Always,” James murmured, so quietly Sirius barely caught it.

“Bloody hell,” Sirius muttered under his breath.

He glanced around the room, half-expecting someone to explain this baffling scene, but it was just him, James, and you, wrapped up in some intimate little bubble that made Sirius feel like an intruder.

James murmured something into your shoulder — too soft for Sirius to catch — and you laughed, your voice light and unrestrained. The sound pulled James’ head up, and Sirius couldn’t miss the way his eyes traced your face with a kind of devotion Sirius had only read about in sappy romance novels.

It was then that the memories began to click into place. The scattered mentions over the years, the odd tone James always took when he talked about you. “She’s not like anyone else, Padfoot. She just gets it.” Or that one summer when James had come back to Hogwarts looking utterly miserable and wouldn’t explain why. Sirius had teased him about it for weeks, thinking it was Lily-related. But now, seeing the way James looked at you...

“Wait a minute,” Sirius blurted, his grin widening as realization dawned. “You’re the one. The one he’s always sneaking off to write letters to, the one he’s all secretive about.”

James shot him a glare, his cheeks burning bright red.

“Padfoot—”

“—the one who sent him that hideous scarf last Christmas!” Sirius continued, thoroughly enjoying himself now. “I knew there had to be someone. Prongs doesn’t just get that moony-eyed look over just anyone.”

You laughed again, covering your face with your hands, while James muttered something about strangling Sirius later.

Before Sirius could needle him further, the kitchen door creaked open, and Euphemia Potter swept into the room. She was radiant as always, her cheeks rosy from the cold, her dark hair streaked with silver. Her eyes lit up the moment she saw James.

“There’s my boy!” she exclaimed, pulling him into a tight hug before he could even attempt to protest.

“Hi, Mum,” James mumbled, his voice muffled against her shoulder.

Euphemia pulled back, cupping his face in her hands as though memorizing every detail. “It’s been too long, Jamie. Too long. You’re far too skinny — have you been eating properly at school? And what have you done with your hair?”

James groaned, though his smile was fond.

Then her eyes fell on Sirius, and the warmth in her expression grew tenfold.

“Sirius, my dear,” she said, moving toward him with open arms. “I’m so glad you’re home, too.”

Sirius froze for a moment, caught off guard. He wasn’t used to this — the genuine affection, the way Euphemia made him feel like he belonged.

When her arms wrapped around him, the embrace firm and filled with love, Sirius felt an odd lump form in his throat. He couldn’t help but think of his own mother’s cold, perfunctory hugs, her disdainful gaze, and the way her affection always felt like a transaction.

“You’ve grown even handsomer,” Euphemia said, pulling back to study him. “Fleamont’s going to be jealous.”

Sirius managed a crooked grin, the lump in his throat still stubbornly there. “That’s the goal, Mrs. Potter. Keep him on his toes.”

Euphemia laughed, her eyes twinkling, before cupping his cheek briefly. “You’re family now, Sirius. Never forget that.”

Satisfied, Euphemia turned her attention to you. Her face softened even more, and she reached out to squeeze your hands. “Oh, there you are, dear. I was wondering where my helper had gone. The mince pies won’t bake themselves, you know”

You shot James a quick, playful glance before following Euphemia toward the door. “I’ll be back in a bit,” you said, your smile lingering.

As Mrs. Potter ushered you toward the door to finish the pies, Sirius remained rooted to the spot. The warmth from her hug lingered, and for a fleeting moment, he thought of how lucky James was to have parents like that — and how lucky he was to have stumbled into their lives.

James watched you leave, his gaze following you until you were out of sight. Sirius couldn’t help but laugh.

“Mate,” he said, clapping James on the shoulder. “You’re a goner.”

James huffed, shoving him away, but the goofy grin on his face was impossible to hide.

And Sirius? Sirius couldn’t wait to see how this played out.

July 2, 1973 My Love, Summer’s only just started, and I can’t wait to see you. Mum’s already planning another one of her “legendary” tea parties, which means she’ll fuss over you endlessly. You’ll smile politely and charm her like always, and she’ll end up spoiling you with biscuits to take back to Beauxbatons. I’ve got so much to tell you. Sirius and I found this secret passageway that leads straight to Hogsmeade. We’ve been practicing spells to make it even harder for Filch to find us. Remus is shaking his head, but I think he secretly loves our schemes. Oh, and Lily—she’s still brilliant. She’s got the most incredible laugh. But you, my love, I bet your laugh would still outshine hers any day.

Do you still walk in those Beauxbatons gardens at sunset? I can imagine you there, glowing in the soft light. It suits you. Write me back quickly, won’t you? The days are always better when I hear from you. Forever yours, Jamie

SIRIUS BLACK HAD ALWAYS KNOWN JAMES POTTER WAS A TACTILE PERSON. James spoke fluently in the language of touch — claps on the back that lingered just a second too long, overly enthusiastic shoulder bumps that almost knocked you off your feet, and the occasional arm slung around your shoulders like he was staking a claim. But this? This was something else entirely.

It wasn’t just the way James touched you. It was the way he seemed to orbit you, like some lovesick moon drawn to its planet. Wherever you were, James was never far behind — hovering, grinning, completely and utterly besotted without even realizing it. And for someone so allegedly brilliant, he was astoundingly stupid about it.

Sirius noticed it within minutes of their arrival at the Potter cottage for the holidays. As the snow settled outside, so did James — right beside you, always beside you. If you were arranging the flowers Euphemia had insisted on, James was there offering suggestions like he’d suddenly become an expert on floral arrangements. If you were curled up in the drawing room with a book, James was sprawled across the nearest sofa, pretending to read but actually just watching you out of the corner of his eye like some hopeless romantic idiot in a badly written Muggle novel.

Sirius had been rolling his eyes so much, they were practically stuck in the back of his head.

THE SECOND MORNING WAS WHEN THINGS REALLY CLICKED. Sirius had woken up earlier than usual — a rare and uncomfortable event for him. He had no plans to do anything productive, of course, but the faint sound of footsteps in the hallway intrigued him. Padding out of his room, he peeked around the corner just in time to see James sneaking toward the kitchen.

Naturally, Sirius followed. He found James standing at the counter, sleeves rolled up like some kind of domestic god, arranging breakfast with the precision of someone preparing an offering to Merlin himself. There was a plate of toast with cream cheese and thinly sliced avocado, a bowl of berries that looked like they’d been picked by woodland elves, and a steaming cup of coffee. The smell alone was enough to make Sirius reconsider his usual disdain for mornings.

“Fancy,” Sirius said, leaning lazily against the doorframe, voice still scratchy from sleep.

James jumped slightly but recovered quickly, flashing Sirius a sheepish grin. “Morning, Pads. Coffee’s on the counter.”

Sirius eyed the tray suspiciously. “Is this for you, or is it for your favorite person in the world aka me?”

James’s ears turned pink. “It’s for her,” he admitted, almost bashfully, like he hadn’t just spent ten minutes crafting the most meticulous breakfast Sirius had ever seen.

“Of course it is,” Sirius muttered with a smirk, grabbing a mug for himself. “You realize this is bordering on embarrassing, yeah?”

James shot him a look, but before he could respond, you appeared in the doorway, still looking half-asleep. Your hair was mussed, and the oversized jumper you’d borrowed from James was slipping off one shoulder, but you somehow managed to look effortlessly radiant. Sirius rolled his eyes again.

“Morning, love,” James said, his voice soft and warm in a way Sirius had never heard before.

“Morning, Jamie,” you mumbled, your voice thick with sleep as you shuffled into the kitchen.

James practically tripped over himself to hand you the coffee. Sirius watched, amused, as James’s fingers brushed yours in the exchange, his entire face lighting up like someone had cast Lumos Maxima directly on it.

You took a long sip of the coffee, humming in contentment. “Perfect, as always,” you murmured, looking up at James with a sleepy smile that could have melted a Dementor.

And then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, you leaned up and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek.

Sirius nearly choked on his coffee. He wasn’t sure what was more painful — the nauseating sweetness of the moment or the fact that neither of you seemed to realize how completely ridiculous you were.

“Right, well, I’ll just... leave you two to it,” Sirius said, waving his mug in mock surrender as he backed out of the room. “Try not to get married while I’m gone.”

“Shut up, Sirius,” James called after him, but the way his voice wavered slightly betrayed his embarrassment.

By the time Sirius reached the living room, Euphemia and Fleamont were already seated by the fireplace, exchanging knowing glances like they’d seen this coming a mile away.

“Is he making her breakfast again?” Euphemia asked with a smile that was far too pleased for Sirius’s liking.

“Every detail,” Sirius confirmed, sinking into an armchair. “I’m starting to think he’s auditioning for Witch Weekly’s ‘Most Devoted Boyfriend’ feature.”

“Don’t tease him too much,” Euphemia said with a chuckle. “He’s just like his father was with me.”

“Merlin, it’s contagious,” Sirius groaned, dramatically throwing an arm over his face. “If I start acting like that, someone put me out of my misery.”

But even as he joked, Sirius couldn’t help but smile. Because for all his teasing, it was obvious to anyone with eyes that James was hopelessly gone for you. And judging by the way you looked at him, Sirius had a feeling the feeling was mutual — even if neither of you was bright enough to figure it out.

AND THEN THERE WERE THE SMALL, INTIMATE TOUCHES SIRIUS COULDN’T IGNORE, no matter how much he wanted to. James’s hand resting on the small of your back as he guided you through a doorway, like you might somehow lose your way without him. The way his fingers traced lazy patterns on your knee under the dinner table, as though the contact grounded him. Or how he’d tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering just long enough to make Sirius roll his eyes and fight back a gag.

It was maddening to watch, really. Not because Sirius minded the affection — no, James deserved a bit of softness in his life, and you were undeniably good for him. It was maddening because you were both so oblivious. James was a goner, sure, but you weren’t far behind. Every time you leaned into his touch, smiled up at him like he hung the stars, or called him Jamie in that soft, teasing tone, it was like watching two wizards tiptoe around a cauldron, waiting for it to explode.

One evening, as the three of you lounged in the living room, the dynamic was on full display. The Potters had insisted on a family movie night — Euphemia’s idea, of course, because family time was important. Sirius couldn’t say no to the fire roaring in the hearth, the massive bowl of popcorn, and the ridiculous Muggle Christmas film flickering on the screen. But as the minutes passed, he started to regret not escaping upstairs.

James had situated himself squarely in the middle of the sofa, with you tucked neatly under his arm. His hand played absently with the ends of your hair, fingers twisting the strands like he didn’t even realize he was doing it. You had your legs curled beneath you, leaning into him with the kind of comfort Sirius had only ever seen in old couples who had been together for decades. James pressed a kiss to your temple, murmuring something Sirius couldn’t quite catch.

It was unbearable.

“Oi, lovebirds,” Sirius interrupted, launching a piece of popcorn at James. It hit him square in the forehead, a small but satisfying victory. “Some of us are trying to watch the movie without choking on all this sap.”

You burst into laughter, sitting up just enough to toss a handful of popcorn back at him. “You’re just jealous, Black.”

“Jealous? Me?” Sirius placed a hand over his chest, mock-offended. “Of what, exactly? Watching James Potter transform into a human puddle before my very eyes? No thanks. I’ll pass.”

James didn’t even flinch. He just grinned, looking every bit the lovesick fool he was. “You’ll get it one day, Pads,” he said with infuriating calm.

Sirius snorted, grabbing a handful of popcorn and tossing it into his mouth. “Right. Because what I’m really missing in my life is the chance to turn into that.” He gestured at the two of you with a dramatic wave of his hand.

But despite his teasing, Sirius couldn’t ignore the warmth spreading in his chest as he watched the scene unfold. James, the arrogant, Quidditch-obsessed, devil-may-care prankster he’d known all his life, was utterly, completely, hopelessly in love. And the worst — or perhaps best — part? He didn’t even seem to realize it.

BY THE END OF THESE COUPLE OF DAYS VACK AT THE POTTER COTTAGE, SIRIUS KNEW. James Potter wasn’t in love with Lily Evans — not really, not anymore and maybe not ever. He was in love with you. It wasn’t in the dramatic declarations Sirius had once teased James about making to Lily. No, this was quieter, deeper. It was in the way James’s gaze softened whenever you spoke, like he couldn’t believe you were real. In the way his hand always seemed to find yours, even when there was no need for it. And in the way his entire being lit up when you smiled at him.

And you? You weren’t much better. You laughed at his terrible jokes, poked fun at him with an ease Sirius envied, and looked at James like he was the center of the universe. It was so obvious it made Sirius want to scream.

“This isn’t normal, you know,” Sirius said later that night, cornering James in the kitchen as he made tea.

“What’s not normal?” James asked, far too casually for Sirius’s liking.

“You and her. You’re not just friends. Stop pretending you are.”

James frowned, his brow furrowing in confusion. “We are just friends. She’s my best mate, Pads. You know that.”

Sirius laughed, loud and sharp, shaking his head. “Oh, Prongsie. You’re an idiot.”

“Am not,” James shot back, but there was a flicker of doubt in his voice.

Sirius leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms. “If you’re just friends, then I’m a unicorn. Face it, Potter — you’re in love.”

James opened his mouth, probably to argue, but then you walked into the room, yawning and looking for all the world like you belonged there. James’s expression softened immediately, his gaze lingering on you like you were the only thing that mattered.

Sirius didn’t say another word. He didn’t need to.

Because James Potter was already lost, and for once, Sirius didn’t mind watching his best mate fall.

March 30, 1975

My Love, It’s been ages since your last letter, and I miss you like mad. Exams are coming up, and I’m hopeless at concentrating without your words to keep me sane. The Marauders are in full swing, though—our latest adventure involved sneaking a swamp into one of the corridors. Filch is still grumbling about it. I told you before how Lily has the most beautiful laugh, right? Well, I think she might finally be warming up to me. I’m playing it cool, but honestly, every time she looks at me, I feel like a kid with a new broomstick. And yet... you’re still the one I write to when I want to share everything. Funny, isn’t it? How’s the ballet going? I remember you mentioned your school recital. I wish I could see you dance. You’d be like a dream on stage, graceful and bright. Maybe one day. Forever yours, Jamie

SIRIUS BLACK WASN’T ONE TO BELIEVE IN LOVE — not the kind spun into poetry or whispered in secret corners of libraries. Sweet words, fleeting touches, long glances… all of it sounded like an elaborate prank. A fantasy created by people who hadn’t tasted the bitterness of the world.

How could anyone believe in love when raised in a house where affection was a weapon and the family motto might as well have been stab first, smile later? The Black family had given Sirius many things: wealth, privilege, and a last name dripping in infamy. But love? That was a foreign concept, spoken in a dialect he’d never been taught.

And yet, Sirius Black — child of darkness and rebellion — had found light. That light had a name: James Potter. From the moment James had barreled into Sirius’s life, grinning like the sun itself, everything had shifted. James had yanked him out of the shadows and dragged him into a world Sirius didn’t know existed — a world filled with warmth, laughter, and actual hugs.

It wasn’t just James, though. It was the whole bloody Potter family. Euphemia and Fleamont were like characters out of a Muggle holiday film. Euphemia, with her soft, unrelenting affection, had made it her personal mission to drown Sirius in love and sweaters. Fleamont’s laughter could fill a room, a deep, belly-shaking sound that warmed Sirius from the inside out. Together, they moved through the world as though their love was an unshakable force, a steady undercurrent in every shared look and word.

“Darling,” Fleamont would call from across the kitchen, leaning over the counter with a newspaper in hand.

“Yes, Fleamont?” Euphemia would reply, her smile soft and teasing as she stirred whatever heavenly dish she was making.

Never by name. Always darling.

Still, if love like that was rare, James bloody Potter seemed hell-bent on stumbling into it without even realizing.

James and you had been dancing around each other for years, so oblivious it was borderline painful. Sirius sometimes wondered if you two were practicing for a comedy sketch, the way you acted like best mates while exuding the kind of tension that could make a Dementor blush. If Sirius had a Galleon for every time James looked at you like you were the only person in the room, he could have bought his own Quidditch team by now. And he's only been watching you for a couple of days.

IT WAS THE FOURT DAY OF HIS CHRISTMAS STAY AT THE POTTER HOME, and the dynamic was impossible to ignore. You and James were practically inseparable, moving through the house like two planets caught in the same orbit. You helped Euphemia with the decorations while James carried boxes of ornaments up from the cellar, always hovering nearby like he was afraid you might vanish if he looked away.

“You know,” Sirius said, leaning casually against the doorway, “most people don’t need to supervise someone hanging tinsel.”

James didn’t even glance back. “She’s not most people, Pads.”

Sirius groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “For Merlin’s sake, just marry her already.”

James froze, an ornament dangling from his hand. “What are you on about? We’re just friends.”

“Sure, and I’m a Muggle,” Sirius shot back, rolling his eyes.

You, blissfully unaware of the conversation, turned from where you were perched on a stepstool. “What are you two arguing about now?”

“Nothing,” James said quickly, his cheeks tinged pink. “Sirius is just being Sirius.”

“That’s never good,” you teased, smirking at Sirius.

“Oi! I’ll have you know I’m delightful company.” Sirius crossed his arms, feigning offense. “But if you’re not careful, pretty, you’ll end up trapped in Potter’s web of undying devotion.”

You raised an eyebrow, stepping down from the stool. “Potter’s web of what now?”

James shot Sirius a warning glare, but Sirius just grinned. “Oh, nothing. Just that James here is—”

“Hungry!” James interrupted, loudly and awkwardly. “Right, Pads? Didn’t you say you were starving?”

Sirius barked a laugh, shaking his head as James practically shoved him out of the room. “Subtle as ever, Prongs.”

From Sirius’s vantage point, it was painfully obvious. James was hopelessly, stupidly in love with you. And you? You weren’t much better. The way you smiled at him, teased him, trusted him without question — it was all the evidence Sirius needed. And yet, you were both blissfully, idiotically unaware.

One evening, as Sirius sprawled on the sofa in the Potters’ living room, he couldn’t help but notice the way you and James interacted. You were sitting cross-legged on the floor, rifling through a box of Christmas decorations Euphemia had set out.

“Jamie, hand me the gold bauble,” you said, tossing him a quick glance over your shoulder.

James, who had been half-heartedly untangling a string of lights, immediately perked up. “Which one?”

You rolled your eyes, a smile tugging at your lips. “The one in your hand, genius.”

James laughed, tossing it gently toward you. It missed entirely, landing with a soft thud on the carpet.

“Good aim, Prongs,” Sirius drawled from his spot on the couch. “Truly inspiring.”

“Shut it, Padfoot,” James shot back, but his grin never faltered. He turned to you, sheepish. “Sorry, love.”

Love. Sirius didn’t miss the way the word slipped out so naturally, like James had been saying it his whole life. And he definitely didn’t miss the way your cheeks flushed as you ducked your head, pretending to focus on the decorations.

LATER THAT EVENING, SIRIUS FOUND HIMSELF LAYING ON THE SOFA IN THE LIVING ROOM AGAIN (it probably was his favorite place in the house by now), a book abandoned on his chest as he watched Euphemia and Fleamont dancing in the kitchen once, a slow, swaying movement that didn’t match the upbeat Muggle music crackling from the wireless. Euphemia had rested her head on Fleamont’s chest, his arms wrapped around her like it was the only place in the world she belonged. It wasn’t dramatic or flashy — just simple and unshakable. And it made Sirius ache in ways he didn’t understand.

And a moment later they were in the same kitchen, preparing tea and laughing softly as they worked.

“Darling, pass me the sugar, would you?” Fleamont said, his voice warm and affectionate.

Euphemia handed him the sugar bowl without looking up, her smile soft. “Here you go, darlin'.”

It was the kind of exchange that Sirius might have mocked once. But now, as he watched the way Fleamont leaned in to kiss Euphemia’s cheek, or how she swatted him away with a laugh when he tried to sneak a biscuit, he felt something unfamiliar tugging at his chest.

“They’re sickeningly sweet, aren’t they?”

Sirius turned to see you standing in the doorway, a mug of hot chocolate in your hands.

“They are,” he admitted, sitting up and motioning for you to join him. “But it’s sort of... nice. In a vomit-inducing way.”

You laughed, settling beside him. “I think it’s lovely. They’re so in tune with each other, you know? Like they’ve been dancing to the same song for decades.”

Sirius tilted his head, watching you as you spoke. “And what about you?”

“What about me?”

“Do you want that? The whole ‘dancing to the same song’ thing?”

You hesitated, your fingers tracing the rim of your mug. “I don’t know. I suppose it would be nice, but... I’m not sure it’s in the cards for me.”

Sirius frowned. “Why not?”

You shrugged, a wistful smile tugging at your lips. “Because my dance partner’s too busy tripping over his own feet to notice I’m right here.”

Sirius stared at you, his mind racing. Did you mean James? Surely you meant James. But before he could say anything, James walked in, ruffling his hair like he always did.

“Alright, what are you two plotting?”

“World domination,” Sirius replied without missing a beat. “Want in?”

James grinned, flopping onto the sofa and immediately throwing an arm around your shoulders. “Always.”

Sirius watched as you leaned into James, your head resting against his shoulder. James turned to look at you, his expression soft and unguarded.

And that’s when Sirius knew — again, because he seemed to be realizing this every ten minutes — just how much trouble you two were in.

DAYS LATER, SIRIUS WAS STANDING BY THE WINDOW OF THE POTTER COTTAGE, a steaming mug of hot chocolate warming his hands. The world outside was a vision of winter — snow blanketed the ground in pristine white, the trees bowed under its weight, and the air held a sharp, crystalline stillness. Inside, the house was alive with warmth: the crackle of the fire, the gentle hum of Euphemia’s humming, and Fleamont’s cheerful banter as he set up a chessboard by the hearth.

But Sirius wasn’t watching any of that. His attention was fixed on the two figures trudging down the snow-covered path just beyond the window.

You and James walked side by side, your mittened hands brushing against each other with the kind of unconscious familiarity that spoke volumes. The path ahead glittered in the weak afternoon sun, the frost catching the light like scattered diamonds. Clouds of breath curled into the frosty air as you laughed at something James said, the sound clear and bright, even from a distance.

Sirius couldn’t hear the words, but he didn’t need to. He saw everything in the way James turned his head toward you, his face lit with the sort of joy that was impossible to fake.

Then it happened — your foot slipped on a patch of hidden ice. Sirius’s grip on his mug tightened for half a heartbeat, but James was already there. His hand shot out, steadying you before you could fall, as if the world might crumble if he didn’t catch you in time.

“Careful there, love,” James said, his voice carrying easily through the crisp winter air.

You laughed, brushing snow from your coat as your cheeks turned pink — not just from the cold, Sirius was sure. “You’d think I’d have learned how to walk by now.”

James grinned, tugging you a little closer to his side. “Good thing you’ve got me.”

“Good thing indeed,” you replied, your eyes crinkling at the corners, your voice soft and full of affection.

And then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, James reached out to brush a stray snowflake from your hair. His fingers lingered for just a moment, his expression open and unguarded, filled with something so pure that Sirius had to look away for a second.

It wasn’t the first time Sirius had seen that look on James’s face. It was the same quiet, awestruck gaze he’d noticed a thousand times when James thought no one was watching. But seeing it now, against the backdrop of snow and laughter, it struck Sirius like a Bludger to the chest.

That’s how Fleamont looked at Euphemia, Sirius realized. He’d seen it that very morning, when Euphemia had walked into the kitchen with a sleepy smile and Fleamont had paused mid-sentence, his face lighting up as if she were the sunrise itself.

Sirius took a long sip of his hot chocolate, the sweetness of it sharp against the lump forming in his throat. He muttered to himself, a small smile tugging at his lips, “Never by name. Always love.”

“What are you smiling about, Sirius?” Euphemia’s voice broke the quiet, warm and curious. She stood in the doorway, wiping her hands on a tea towel.

He turned, raising his mug in a mock toast. “Oh, nothing, Mrs. P. Just watching James make a right fool of himself in the snow. Again.”

Euphemia chuckled, stepping closer to peer out the window. Her gaze softened as she spotted you and James, now engaged in some sort of playful shoving match, James clearly letting you win.

“Hopeless,” Sirius added, shaking his head.

“Like father, like son,” Euphemia said with a knowing smile.

Sirius huffed a laugh. “Yeah. Exactly like that.”

They stood in companionable silence for a moment, watching the scene outside. Sirius’s gaze lingered on James’s hand as it rested on your shoulder, the ease of the gesture speaking louder than words.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, Sirius allowed himself to believe. Not just in the love he saw in James’s face or the easy affection between Fleamont and Euphemia. But in the idea that maybe—just maybe—love wasn’t the cruel, twisted thing his family had tried to make him believe.

Maybe love, real love, was something entirely different.

November 27, 1976

My Jamie, Winter has settled over Beauxbatons, and the mountains are kissed with snow. I wish you could see how the frost sparkles on the trees. I think of you often, imagining the mischief you’re up to at Hogwarts. I heard you’re Quidditch Captain now — congratulations! I can already picture you soaring through the air, the wind in your hair and that unstoppable grin. You were born to lead, Jamie, and I’m so proud of you. Your mum wrote me again last week. She’s sent another scarf, this one in Gryffindor colors. She says it’ll keep me close to you. It does, in a way — I wrap it around myself when I miss you most. Do you think of me as much as I think of you? You’re my constant, my warmth on the coldest days. Soon it’ll be Christmas, and we’ll have the stars and endless nights to talk about everything. Until then, stay safe, my Jamie. Forever yours, Love

THE CHRISTMAS CHAOS AT THE POTTER HOUSE STARTED BEFORE SIRIUS EVEN HAD A CHANCE TO GRUMBLE ABOUT THE HOUR. The sun wasn’t up yet, but Fleamont Potter most certainly was, barreling into James’s room with the energy of a man half his age. Before Sirius could properly complain — or hide under the covers — he and James were unceremoniously hauled to the garage. Their mission? Assembling the absurdly large Christmas table that Euphemia insisted on every year.

Sirius swore under his breath, wrestling with the oversized wooden monstrosity. “You know,” he grumbled, glaring at James, “if your parents had just gone for a nice, normal-sized table, we wouldn’t be out here freezing our—”

“Language, Sirius!” Fleamont interrupted cheerfully, though there was a definite glint of amusement in his eyes.

Sirius rolled his eyes but complied, though only because Euphemia’s kitchen smelled like heaven, and he was determined to earn his way to a plate of whatever was roasting in the oven.

Inside, the house was a picture of festive perfection: holly strung along the bannisters, twinkling fairy lights glowing softly in the corners, and a wireless by the fireplace playing carols just loud enough to make Sirius hum along when no one was listening. Euphemia’s soft laughter echoed from the kitchen, mingling with yours as the two of you prepared a feast fit for kings — or in this case, a house full of Marauders.

And James? Well, James wasn’t himself.

Sirius noticed it almost immediately. His best mate was usually a hurricane of enthusiasm during the holidays, cracking jokes, sneaking sweets from the kitchen, and generally making a nuisance of himself. But today, James kept glancing toward the kitchen like a puppy waiting for its owner to come home.

The idiot was besotted.

Every time your laughter drifted into the room, James’s head whipped around like he was under some sort of spell. If you so much as said his name, he’d stop mid-sentence, his eyes lighting up like the Christmas tree in the corner. Sirius would’ve teased him mercilessly if it weren’t so... obvious. Painfully, ridiculously obvious.

LATER THAT AFTERNOON, WHEN JAMES AND FLEAMONT HAD VANISHED TO THE GARAGE — probably to charm something they had no business charming — Sirius found himself tasked with tidying up James’s room. He grumbled the whole time, of course. Cleaning wasn’t his style, and James’s room was a disaster zone: Quidditch magazines spilling off the desk, parchment crumpled in corners, and socks scattered in ways that defied the laws of physics.

“Honestly, Prongs,” Sirius muttered, holding up a suspiciously stiff sock with the tips of his fingers. “How are you supposed to woo Evans — or anyone, for that matter — when your room smells like the wrong end of a hippogriff?”

As he moved to clear a particularly cluttered shelf, a box caught his eye. It was tucked in the far corner, partially hidden behind an old textbook. Sirius raised an eyebrow. Anything stashed away like that was bound to be interesting. With a mischievous grin, he reached for it, only for the entire thing to tumble off the shelf, spilling its contents across the floor.

“Bloody hell,” he swore, crouching to pick up the mess. His hand froze mid-reach when he realized what had fallen out: letters. Dozens of them, bundled in ribbons of various colors.

Sirius sat back on his heels, eyeing the pile. His curiosity, as always, got the better of him. With a glance at the door to ensure James wasn’t about to barge in, he grabbed the nearest stack and plopped himself onto the bed, cross-legged and grinning like a kid about to open a box of Zonko’s best tricks.

The first letter he unfolded smelled faintly of vanilla. Your scent, Sirius realized, and his grin faltered for just a moment.

October 7, 1971 Beauxbatons is so different from Hogwarts. The professors here are so strict, James, sometimes it feels like I’m being watched all the time! I miss the feeling of freedom you must have at Hogwarts, even if you’re always getting into trouble with Sirius. Do you ever just wish you could escape the rules and run wild?

Sirius chuckled softly, his eyes scanning the elegant handwriting. “Trouble? Me? Never,” he muttered, his tone dripping with mock innocence.

But as he reread the letter, a strange tightness settled in his chest. The way you wrote about Hogwarts — it wasn’t just about the school. It was about James. Even miles away, you saw him as something larger than life, as the embodiment of freedom and adventure.

And James? The idiot probably thought you were just being polite.

February 21, 1971 Sirius sounds like a bit of a handful, but I bet he’s hilarious. I think I’d like him, even if he does cause chaos. You all sound like you’re constantly up to something, but I imagine you get into trouble a lot, don’t you? Anyway, I’d love to hear more about his pranks— I’m sure you and him must make a great team!

Sirius barked a laugh. “A handful? Pretty, you have no idea.”

Still, the words struck a chord. He could see it so clearly now: the way you’d woven yourself into James’s world with every playful question and teasing remark. You weren’t just curious about his adventures; you wanted to be a part of them, to understand the boy behind the Quidditch bravado and the wild schemes.

Then came the letters about Lily.

March 25, 1973 James, you always talk about Lily, and I think it’s sweet that you have such admiration for her. I bet she doesn’t even know how much you like her. She sounds like she’d be really hard to win over, but I’m sure you’ll figure it out. Just don’t forget to have fun along the way, yeah?

Sirius groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Merlin’s saggy pants, Prongs, how thick can you be?”

He could almost picture you writing those words, the careful balance between encouragement and self-sacrifice. Even as you pushed James toward Lily, your letters were saturated with love — pure, unguarded, and heartbreakingly unspoken.

It was infuriating. How could two people so obviously meant for each other be so oblivious?

By the time Sirius reached the later letters, the humor had drained from his face.

December 5, 1974 Your mum sent me another gift! She’s so sweet, and I can’t believe how kind she is to me. It always makes me feel so loved. You know, when I’m away from you, it’s like I’m missing something... like the best part of my day. I never want to take our friendship for granted.

The parchment crinkled slightly as Sirius’s grip tightened. That wasn’t just gratitude — it was devotion, raw and aching. The kind of love that didn’t need fireworks or grand declarations because it was already woven into every moment, every memory.

And James? Sirius shook his head, a pang of frustration mixing with pity. James had spent years chasing the idea of love, blind to the fact that he already had it.

The final letter undid him.

December 12, 1975 I was thinking about you today, and how you’ve always been there for me — whether it was listening to me complain about the Beauxbatons professors or laughing with me when I’m in a bad mood. You’re always there, and I think that’s why I trust you more than anyone else. You’ll never know how much that means to me, Jamie.

Sirius closed his eyes, letting the words sink in. You didn’t just see James; you knew him. The real James — the boy who laughed too loudly, who lived for Quidditch, who couldn’t resist a good prank. You loved James, not the idealized version he tried to be for Lily or anyone else.

Sirius exhaled sharply, folding the letter with a reverence he didn’t usually bother with. His heart ached — not for himself, but for you, for James, for the years you’d both spent dancing around the truth.

“Merlin, you’re both idiots,” he muttered, though his voice was softer now.

Sirius ran a hand through his dark hair, ruffling it further into disarray, his mind replaying what he’d just uncovered. The letters — those bloody letters — had been the key. Now everything fell into place: James’s barely-there smiles over the past few days, the way his gaze lingered when you entered the room, the softness in his laugh when you said something clever. James Potter, his brash, unrelenting, wildfire of a best friend, was utterly transformed around you.

Balanced. Grounded. Sincere.

It was unbearably obvious now, as if someone had pulled back the curtain.

And yet, the idiot still had Lily Evans’s picture on his bedside table in his dorm.

Sirius’s gaze fell on the stack of letters once more, neatly tied with a ribbons that seemed far too delicate for James’s usual chaos. He could have left it alone, let James figure things out in his own thick-headed way — but that wasn’t Sirius Black’s style. If there was one thing he’d learned from years of pranks, broken curfews, and bending the rules until they snapped, it was this: sometimes people needed a push, even if it stung a little.

Sirius exhaled and leaned back against the headboard, the letters still in hand. "You're a fucking idiot," he muttered under his breath.

A slow smirk tugged at his lips. Oh, the look on James’s face when he confronted him — it would be priceless. Sirius wasn’t one for sentiment, but for you? For James? Maybe, just maybe, he’d make an exception.

The door creaked open, and James stumbled into the room, his steps heavy with exhaustion. Sirius watched as his best friend all but collapsed into the armchair by the bookcase, running a hand through his already-messy hair. He looked like he’d been wrestling dragons all day — or, more likely, his dad’s endless list of chores.

But there was something else, too. A tension in his jaw, a restless energy that practically vibrated off him. Sirius could see it plain as day: James hadn’t seen her all day, and it was driving him mad. She was so close — just a staircase or two away — and yet untouchable.

Sirius cleared his throat, breaking the silence. “So, Prongs, is this why you’ve been obsessing over the owl schedule for years? Didn’t peg you as the secret pen-pal type.”

James’s head snapped up, his hazel eyes narrowing in confusion. They darted to the bed, where the stack of letters lay exposed, and then to the shelf where the box had clearly been moved. He froze for a second before letting out a long, resigned sigh.

“Pads,” James said, his voice low and uneven, heavy with an edge Sirius rarely heard. “It’s not cool to read someone else’s letters.”

The room seemed to still, the words settling into the air like dust, soft but laden with weight. James’s eyes — those unmistakable hazel orbs that always held a spark of mischief — were guarded now, a flicker of something raw and unspoken behind them.

Sirius leaned forward, a grin stretching across his face like the blade of a knife, sharp and unapologetic. “Not cool,” he echoed, his voice laced with mockery, “is keeping this from me for six bloody years. Care to explain, or should I guess?”

James flinched, the tension in his shoulders visible even through the soft knit of his jumper. He moved toward the bed with the slow, deliberate steps of someone walking a tightrope, balancing the fragile threads of anger and restraint. The dim light of the room cast long shadows over his frame, making him seem taller, older — more vulnerable.

He reached for one of the letters, his hand hesitating for the briefest moment before his fingers curled around the parchment. His thumb brushed over the faded ink, tracing the loops of her handwriting like a blind man reading Braille. The edges of the letter were frayed, softened by years of touch, and as he lifted it to his face, Sirius caught the faintest smile tugging at James’s lips.

It was a small, private thing, that smile. Reverent. It wasn’t the boyish grin Sirius knew so well, the one James wielded like a weapon to charm or disarm. No, this was different — softer, as though the mere act of holding the letter in his hand brought James closer to something sacred.

Sirius felt his chest tighten. He’d seen James in every possible state — triumphant on the Quidditch pitch, livid after a prank gone wrong, devastated when the world seemed too heavy — but this? This was new. This was James Potter unguarded.

“She’s different, isn’t she?” Sirius said, his voice quieter now, almost gentle.

James didn’t look up. He sat on the edge of the bed, sorting the letters with a precision that bordered on ritual. Each movement was deliberate, his fingers careful not to smudge the ink or crease the paper. Sirius had never seen him handle anything with such care — not his broomstick, not his glasses, not even the Marauder’s Map.

“It’s not what you think,” James murmured, but the words lacked conviction, as though he knew they’d crumble under scrutiny.

Sirius scoffed, leaning back in his chair with an exasperated snort. “Not what I think? Mate, I think you’re in love with her and too much of an idiot to admit it. Am I wrong?”

James froze mid-motion, the ribbon he was tying slipping from his fingers. For a moment, he didn’t speak, didn’t move — just stared at the letters as if they might answer for him.

“She’s…” He trailed off, his voice barely audible. “She’s different, Pads. She’s… everything.”

There it was. The confession, raw and trembling in the space between them. Sirius leaned forward, elbows on his knees, his expression unusually serious.

“Yeah,” Sirius said softly. “She is. And that’s exactly why you’re a bloody idiot for pretending she’s not.”

James let out a bitter laugh, the sound low and fractured. He raked a hand through his already-messy hair, his movements frenetic, as though he were trying to shake off the weight of the moment.

“You don’t get it,” he said, his voice cracking under the strain. “It’s not that simple.”

“Like hell it isn’t,” Sirius shot back, his tone sharp but not cruel. “I’ve watched you for years, Prongs. You talk about Evans like she’s some kind of bloody trophy, but her? You look at her like she’s the air you breathe. Like without her, you’d suffocate. And you’re sitting here telling me it’s complicated?”

James’s laugh turned hollow, empty. “Lily’s… safe. She’s who I’m supposed to want. She’s not my bloody childhood best friend.”

The words hung in the air, and for a moment, Sirius said nothing. Then, he barked out a laugh, loud and biting.

“Safe?” he repeated, incredulous. “Since when have you ever played it safe, James Potter? Love’s not supposed to be safe. It’s messy, terrifying, and completely bloody worth it. Or are you seriously telling me you’d rather be ‘safe’ than happy?”

James looked up at him then, and Sirius’s breath caught. His best friend’s hazel eyes, usually so full of fire and mischief, were red-rimmed and glistening with unshed tears.

“Do you think…” James’s voice wavered, barely above a whisper. “Do you think she feels the same?”

Sirius’s grin returned, slow and wolfish. “Mate, judging by these letters? She’s just as much of an idiot in love as you are.”

For a moment, James didn’t move, didn’t even breathe. And then, like a dam breaking, he laughed — a shaky, unsteady sound that grew louder, freer, until it filled the room.

“What do I do?” James asked, his voice raw and trembling with vulnerability.

Sirius stood, crossing the room to clap a hand on James’s shoulder. “You start by telling her everything. No more hiding. No more pretending. You owe her — and yourself — more than that.”

James nodded slowly, the faintest glimmer of determination flickering in his eyes. “You’re right.”

“Of course I’m right,” Sirius said, smirking. “I’m always right.”

As James reached for the letters, carefully tucking them back into their box, Sirius watched him with a rare sense of pride. This wasn’t just James Potter, the fearless Quidditch captain, the prankster extraordinaire. This was James Potter, a boy on the cusp of something extraordinary.

And for once, Sirius Black wasn’t just causing chaos — he was helping someone find their way through it.

THE SNOW OUTSIDE FELL IN HEAVY, DELIBERATE FLAKES, BLANKETING THE WORLD IN A SOFT, UNBROKEN QUIET. Sirius stood on the second-floor landing of the Potter home, a mug of hot coffee cradled in his hands. The rich aroma mingled with the faint scent of pine and cinnamon wafting from the decorated tree below. The whole house seemed to hum with a kind of warmth that Sirius rarely allowed himself to imagine, let alone experience.

From his vantage point, he had a perfect view of the living room below. The fire in the hearth crackled gently, casting golden shadows across the walls. Mr. Potter sat on the sofa with an arm draped around Mrs. Potter, the two of them cocooned under a soft plaid blanket. A book rested on Fleamont’s lap as he read aloud, his voice low and steady. Euphemia’s head rested against his shoulder, her eyes half-closed in serene contentment. Every so often, she’d smile at something he read or reach up to adjust her husband’s glasses, her touch so light and familiar it made Sirius’s chest ache with longing — not jealousy, but something softer. A wistfulness for this kind of unshakable bond.

But his gaze didn’t linger on the Potters for long. It drifted to the corner of the room, where the Christmas tree’s twinkling lights bathed two figures in a kaleidoscope of warm colors. You and James sat on the floor amidst the chaos of torn wrapping paper and open boxes. The morning’s gifts had already been exchanged, but it seemed James had saved something special for last.

Even from here, Sirius could see the faint nervousness in his best friend’s posture. James wasn’t one to fidget, yet his hands moved restlessly, smoothing invisible creases on his trousers, brushing imaginary dust from the tree skirt. His eyes, though, were unwavering as they watched you. You were cross-legged on the fluffy white rug, your hair falling in soft waves over your shoulder as you picked idly at a ribbon. Sirius noticed how your gaze lingered on James, curious and full of quiet affection.

James leaned closer, his voice low but carrying an unmistakable lilt of mischief. “One of the owls was late,” he said, holding up a slightly weathered envelope. The parchment looked a little worse for wear, its edges crumpled as if it had been handled too often. “It dropped this off this morning… asked me to give it to the most beautiful girl in the world.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head as you reached for the envelope. “Still using that line, are you, Potter?”

“Can you blame me? It’s worked wonders so far.” His grin was cocky, but Sirius saw the faintest flicker of uncertainty in his eyes as he handed it over.

You rolled your eyes, but the way you bit your lip betrayed your own anticipation. Turning the envelope over in your hands, you ran your fingers along the black-inked scrawl of your name before carefully breaking the seal. Sirius leaned forward slightly, his coffee forgotten as he watched the scene unfold.

The moment the letter emerged, the air seemed to shift. Your eyes darted across the page, your expression softening with each word. Sirius could see the precise moment the meaning settled in — the way your lips parted in surprise, the way your shoulders tensed, then relaxed, as if letting the weight of something long unspoken sink in. James’s hand rested on your knee, his thumb moving in small, nervous circles.

“Love?” James’s voice was barely above a whisper, his usual bravado stripped away. He was watching you as though the world rested on your reaction, his fingers tightening ever so slightly around yours. “You’re awfully quiet. Should I be worried? Say something. Anything.”

You didn’t answer immediately. Your eyes stayed fixed on the page, even as a tear slipped down your cheek, catching the light like a tiny diamond. James froze, his face paling slightly.

“Hey, hey, no…” His voice cracked. “Don’t cry. If it’s rubbish, just say so and we can forget it. Burn it, even.” He laughed nervously, though it sounded forced. “I’ll… I’ll pretend it never happened.”

That’s when you looked up, meeting his gaze with eyes so full of emotion it made Sirius’s breath hitch even from across the room. You didn’t say anything. Instead, you reached out, cupping James’s face in your hands. He stilled under your touch, his wide-eyed surprise melting into something softer as you leaned in and pressed your lips to his.

It wasn’t the kind of kiss Sirius might have teased him about — not fiery or impulsive. It was quiet, deliberate, and full of a tenderness that made Sirius feel like an intruder, even though he couldn’t look away. James’s hands found your waist, pulling you closer as though you might slip away if he let go.

Sirius smiled to himself, feeling a rare swell of pride. James had always been the heart of their little group, the one who wore his feelings openly. And now, here he was, finding a kind of love that Sirius knew would anchor him forever.

A sharp click shattered the moment, and both of you turned your heads to find Sirius standing at the bottom of the stairs, a wide grin plastered across his face as he waved a freshly developed photo in the air.

“Perfect!” he announced, shaking the picture. “This one’s going in the family album. And when my godchildren ask how their parents got together, I’ll tell them Uncle Sirius orchestrated the whole thing.”

You laughed, leaning your forehead against James’s shoulder, while James groaned, though the corners of his mouth twitched upward. “You’re a menace, Pads,” he said, though his voice held no bite.

“A charming menace,” Sirius replied, retreating toward the couch where the elder Potters were watching the scene unfold with amused smiles.

“Everything alright, dear?” Euphemia asked, her eyes twinkling with affection as she glanced between you and James.

James nodded, his hand still firmly clasping yours. “Yeah, Mum. Everything’s perfect.”

Mrs. Potter’s smile widened, and she reached over to pat your hand. “Welcome to the family, my dear. Though, truth be told, you’ve always been part of it.”

“Thank you,” you said softly, your voice thick with emotion.

THE REST OF THE DAY PASSED IN A GOLDEN HAZE OF LAUGHTER AND WARMTH. Euphemia roped you into helping her in the kitchen, insisting you learn the secret to her mulled wine. Sirius watched from the doorway, sipping his coffee and grinning as you tried to follow her directions, only for James to sneak in and steal a taste from the pot, earning himself a playful swat on the arm.

By evening, the fire burned low, and the snow outside had blanketed the world in an even deeper hush. Sirius sat in his favorite armchair, a blanket draped over his legs as he watched the scene before him. You and James were curled up together on the rug, a cozy tangle of limbs as you whispered to each other, your laughter soft and unguarded. The Potters sat nearby, sharing quiet conversation, their hands intertwined.

For a moment, Sirius closed his eyes, letting the warmth of the room and the sounds of contentment wash over him. He thought of his own childhood Christmases — cold, sterile affairs devoid of joy. And then he thought of this… the home James had built, not just for himself but for everyone he cared about. It was the kind of love Sirius had always believed was out of reach. Until now.

“Merry Christmas, Prongs,” he murmured, raising his empty mug in a toast to his best friend.

James glanced up, catching his eye. “Merry Christmas, Pads,” he replied, his grin soft but unmistakably James.

James had turned to you, his hand cradling your cheek as he pressed a lingering kiss to your temple. You smiled up at him, your fingers tracing lazy patterns on his arm.

"Merry Christmas, love," James murmured, his voice low and filled with a tenderness that made Sirius’s chest tighten.

"Merry Christmas, Jamie," you replied, resting your forehead against his.

Sirius chuckled, settling back into his chair, the warmth of the moment settling deep in his bones. The world outside might be cold and uncertain, but here, in this house, surrounded by love and laughter, everything felt exactly as it should be.

He thought about how James Potter had once given him the home and warmth he never had. And now, it seemed, Sirius Black had helped his best friend find his way home, too.

FROM THE ARCHIVE OF SIRIUS BLACK:

To my future, undoubtedly brilliant, devilishly handsome, and wildly talented nephews,

Listen up, you little rascals. You don’t know me yet, but let me make one thing very clear: I’m the reason you even exist. That’s right, your ridiculously perfect Uncle Sirius is the mastermind behind it all. Without my charm, wit, and expert meddling, your parents might still be doing the whole "will-they-won't-they" nonsense.

So, when you’re out there ruling the world, remember to thank yours truly. The coolest, suavest, and most humble uncle you'll ever have — Sirius Black. You're welcome.

December 25, 1976 My Love, It’s Christmas, and the house is quiet now, the soft hum of the tree lights the only sound. I’ve been sitting here for hours, staring at this parchment, trying to find words big enough for what I feel, but they don’t exist. Still, I need to try. Love, I see it now—what I’ve been too blind to see all along. I’ve always thought of myself as brave, fearless even. But when it came to you, I was a coward. I didn’t want to risk losing you. You, who have been the brightest part of my life since the moment we met. You, who’ve filled every corner of my world with warmth and light, even when we were miles apart. Every summer, when you stepped into my life again, it was like the sun breaking through a storm. You’d sit by the lake with that book you never quite finished because I was always distracting you. You’d laugh at my terrible jokes, your nose crinkling just so. And you’d hum when you thought no one was listening, always off-key but somehow more perfect than any melody I’ve ever heard. I thought I was looking for the kind of love my parents have — their unshakable bond, the way they look at each other like the world begins and ends with them. And all this time, it was right here, under my nose. You were under my nose. I think I was afraid, love. Afraid that if I let myself feel what’s always been there, I’d ruin us. That I’d lose the only person who’s ever truly known me, the only one who can look past the pranks, the bravado, and see me—the real me. But Sirius, being Sirius, knocked some sense into me. He said I’ve been acting like a fool, and for once, he’s right. Rereading our letters with him was like seeing my life laid out before me, and every line, every word pointed to you. Even when you were far away, you were my everything. The letters you sent were more than ink on parchment; they were lifelines. When Hogwarts felt too big, too chaotic, you were the quiet in the storm. When I felt lost, you reminded me who I am. Do you know how many times I reread your words, just to feel close to you? I kept your letters in my trunk, hidden from the others like a secret treasure. Because that’s what you’ve always been — my treasure. How could I have been so blind? How could I have wasted so much time thinking it was Lily I wanted when it’s always been you? I’ve spent so long chasing a dream when the real thing was right in front of me. I see it now, clearer than I’ve ever seen anything. You are my stars, my moon, my sun. You’re the laugh that makes everything brighter, the voice that feels like home.

I love you. I love the way your handwriting gets messier when you’re excited. I love the way you argue with me over the silliest things just to see me smile. I love the way you hum when you’re nervous and how you always know exactly what to say to pull me out of my worst days. I love you. I don’t know if you feel the same way, but I hope with everything in me that you do. And if you don’t, I’ll understand. Because having you in my life, even just as my friend, has been the greatest gift I could ever ask for. But if there’s even the smallest chance you might love me too, then I promise to spend the rest of my life proving I deserve you. Merry Christmas, my love. You’ve been my greatest gift every day since I met you. Forever yours, Jamie

thankx for reading <3

god, this is my biggest work and I was so afraid to publish it, cause it seems to me that no one reads such long fics (I myself adore long fics).

and if you've finished reading this, thank u and I love you so much! I hope you enjoyed every part of it and I will be very glad if you leave a comment, because it seems to me that I have left all of myself in this work!

you can always share your opinion in comments or my inbox. btw my requests are open so… make a wish :3

– your santi 🪐

masterlist

#– santi 🪐#james potter fluff #james potter fic #james potter x reader #james potter #james potter x you #james potter imagine #james potter x y/n #james potter fanfiction #bsf!james potter #james potter x fem!reader

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whokilledsamara · 3 months ago

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hii!! I saw you write for homicipher so i was wondering if you could write some dark/yandere sfw & nsfw headcanons for mr scarletella 🥹 thank you so much & take ur time!!

MR. SCARLETELLA HC {N/SFW}

a Mr. Scarletella {homicipher} x reader n/sfw hc list.

{thank you for your support and nice words! :3}

warnings! : stalking, non-con, dub-con, hardcore, marking, slight gore, rough sex, violence, rough fingering, biting, cunnilingus, blowjobs, smut, murder mention, somno

{an : i didnt quite get what you meant when you said "dark" so hopefully this is what you meant. this is really hardcore. to the soft hearted people and people who cant handle ACTUAL freaky stuff, i wouldnt recommend reading this. there is a small section underneath the regular nsfw hc with a cw on it, so if you cant handle certain topics, there is still an nsfw section without it. he is my favorite character from homicipher ommggg hes so hot. id give him my name HAPPILY.}

SFW HC

sfw relationship/meeting him hcs

when you first meet him alone, he is very unexpected. his presence and constant facial expression is unnerving to say the least, but as long as you can manage that you will be fine.

if you end up "accepting" him, the relationship would be very weird.

he would be a wonderful partner despite the obvious other reasons, but dont think he wont be watching you constantly.

he will bring you daily gifts, consisting of anything he can find that he thinks you will like.

as for touch, he will let you touch him. usually he wouldnt let anyone even accidentally touch him, as he would teleport away, but one you are in a relationship with him, most boundaries he had before are gone.

he is rather fond of holding you. whether that be in his coat {for some reason} or just in general.

in Japanese culture {from my research, i am NOT Japanese!!} holding an umbrella with someone is a sign of love and acceptance. therefore he always likes you to hold it with him.

he isnt one of those "down-lo" kind of people. he makes it known everywhere that you are his.

he will do whatever it takes to please you. you are literally his princess/prince. even if that includes killing someone {he does it anyways}

if he catches anyone staring at you, or even remotely close to you, he will either teleport you away {if you are friends with the person} or kill them on the spot.

no matter how much he seems to be emotionless, anything involving you in pain or discomfort, it will flip a switch in him.

he has to be near you always. whether you know it or not, he will be there.

he hasnt quite grasped the concept of kissing or "romantic" things, but whatever you do he goes along with it. he rather enjoys hand holding or pressing his face into your neck.

he is the delulu type {this whole fandom knows it} and anything you do he will take as flirting. dont deny it though, hes too obsessed to care

he has a big thing for the height difference. he is a little over 8 feet tall, and feels a need to protect you at any cost.

any cost.

NSFW HC

what its like to have sex with him.

starting off, this man is a BEAST during sex.

he is a quick learner, and whether he is using his hands, mouth, or any part of his body, he will find those spots that makes you squirm.

one of his favorite things is you riding his thigh in public. say he was talking with Mr. Silvair, and happened to be sitting down. he would want you on his thigh "discreetly" getting off. bonus points if you cum.

he wouldnt be opposed to a threesome, but he has to trust the other person. a rare occasion.

anything you want to do, he will immediately comply. need him to go down on you? hes on his knees. even in public. need his fingers inside of you? absolutely. need his dick? against the wall you go.

he has a big dick, and luckily he knows it. he wont force everything inside at first, but eventually he will. you can take it. he thinks

he loves your body, and he makes sure you know it. even in his strange language, you can understand the things he is saying because he is touching you while he is doing it.

he makes little to no noise during sex, but not because he isnt enjoying it. he LOVES sex with you, but he prefers to listen to your noises. he would have it on repeat if he could.

you could look like anything and he would still find you to be the most attractive person on earth {or his earth, whatever}

for afab, he isnt one of those guys who has a hard time finding your clit. in fact, he doesnt even have to look. immediately his fingers will be circling that little nub that he loves so much.

he is a very dominating person, but it probably wouldnt be hard for him to let you dominate him. i say let because in no situation do you actually have control.

his fingering sessions are borderline violent, the pads of his fingers hitting that perfect spot with every curl.

cw! its about to get very dark and possibly triggering! viewer discretion is advised!

if you are one of those people who get off on your man killing for you, then he is the man. he will torture people in front of you as you touch yourself.

his sex isnt even borderline violent, it IS violent. if hes angry especially, he doesnt care if he hurts you.

afab, he will bruise your cervix and make you bleed. his tip hits so hard with his brutal thrusts that you will.

on certain occasions, {tw!!!} he will force himself on you. while it is rare, r...pe can happen, so be careful and dont piss him off.

he doesnt need sleep, so if hes horny enough then he will fuck you while you're sleeping. if you explicitly ask him not to, then he will just jerk himself off over your sleeping form.

dont expect to walk away from a rough fucking WITHOUT marks all over you. he makes it a mission to bite, claw, tear, any part he can. he wants you covered in blood, it gets him off faster.

will probably brand you with something

if you have a trauma kink he WILL use it to his advantage.

thats all bye bye!!! :3

{ made by @whokilledsamara }

#smut #afab reader #amab reader #mr. scarletella x you #mr. scarletella x y/n #mr. scarletella #cnc somno #mr. scarletella x reader #homicipher #homicipher x reader #dead dove do not eat

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altruisticalastor · 1 year ago

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↳˗ˏˋAlastor x Readerˊˎ˗ ↴

☒ Summary: Alastor didn't like sharing your charm with the others. Which often led him to get needy. Craving extra special attention from his darling girl, which you happily supplied.

☒ Warnings: fem!reader, she/her pronouns, established relationship, heavy breeding kink, praise kink, soft!alastor, creampies, dirty talk, fingering, light biting, nipple play (reader recieving), begging, making out

☒ Word Count: 1,564

Your peers swore you had cast a spell upon Alastor. He was wrapped around your little finger, and you lost count of how many times demons who stayed at the hotel would come up to you and ask if you owned his soul.

You may not have owned his soul, but you certainly owned his heart.

After the initial shock wore off, your counterparts left it be. Angel would joke often about how Alastor was "pussy whipped". But that was as far as the teasing went. Everyone else knew not to step on The Radio Demon's toes.

It wasn't hard for your peers to catch on; to why exactly Alastor loved you so dearly. You were an absolute sweetheart, caring and compassionate in every way. You always offered a hand to any of your counterparts who required assistance, and your actions proved that you were constantly thinking of ways to make everyone feel valued.

Alastor rather despised having to share your charm with others. Which often led to long nights of your lover being clingy and needy for you. Much like tonight.

You were flat on your back atop the plush duvet. Alastor surrounded you with his frame, slender arms enclosing near your head. Your lover placed soft kisses across your face. Humming one of his favorite tunes in the process. "Absolutely breathtaking, my doe," Alastor whispered, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck.

A chill ran down your spine at the feeling of your lover's bare body pressing against yours. His cold flesh was a nice contrast to the warmth you emitted. You let out a soft whine as Alastor's erection grazed your lower tummy, making you needier than ever for him. Which was The Radio Demon's goal all along. It was only fair to make you feel just as desperate for him as he was for you.

"Do you know how much I cherish you, my dear?" Alastor cooed, nipping at your neck. Leaving pretty marks in his wake. His sharp teeth grazing along your pulse point caused your breath to hitch. Your lover trailed lower, still pressing his body close to yours.

"Yes," You sighed, burying your hands into his fluffy tufts of hair as Alastor's lips wrapped around one of your nipples. His hands began to wander. One slipped between your legs, gathering your slick with his deft digits. His other hand trailed to your other breast, tweaking your neglected nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

"Good girl..." Alastor released your nipple with a loud pop before darting his tongue out to circle around your areola. A cry of his name slipped past your parted lips as Alastor's ring finger eased its way into your pussy. Your grip on his hair tightened as you held him closely to your chest, pulling a deep groan from your lover's lips.

"Feels so good, Al," You babbled, raising your hips to meet the slow cadence of his finger plunging deep inside you. Alastor's lips shifted to your other breast, giving it the same treatment. Only this time, his sharp teeth skimmed along your sensitive nipple. A sultry moan ripped through you from the sensation, urging Alastor on to add a second finger inside your inviting heat.

Alastor slowly rutted his hips against the plush duvet, letting out groans against your marked-up flesh. "Please, my love... need you inside," You whined desperately, pulling his face up to have him meet your gaze. A string of saliva connected Alastor's lips to your hardened nipple. His cock twitched at the look of desperation you gave him. You scored your bottom lip with your teeth, eyebrows knitted with emphasis; eyes half-lidded.

"How could I say no when you ask so graciously, hm? I intend to give my little doe everything she needs." Alastor's smile widened as he pulled his fingers out of your dripping heat. He didn't waste a beat wrapping his slick-coated fingers around the base of his cock. A whine escaped you as your lover ran the head of his flushed length between your folds.

"Hmm, you're so wet for me, darling. Do I really work you up that much?" Alastor quipped, allowing the tip of his cock to push past the tight ring of your pussy. You nodded your head in agreement, pushing your hips closer to his; but to no avail. Alastor's hands came to hold your waist, keeping you in place. "Use your words, my dear."

"Y-Yes! Always, Al. Just you... only this needy for you," You were already stupefied by the pleasure your lover granted you, and he barely even began. A deep chuckle escaped Alastor. The radio crackle reverberated through his chest. "I hope you are aware that the feeling is mutual, my precious little doe,"

With that, your lover pushed deeper inside you. Stretching your walls to accommodate his length. "F..Fuck, so tight. You are squeezing me so greatly, darling." Alastor hissed through gritted teeth. Your thighs came up to wrap around his waist, pulling his pelvis flush against yours.

A gasp fled you as you felt your lover twitch from deep inside you. His full balls kissed the underside of your pussy, making your head spin. "Al, you're so big, feels s-so good..." Your hands enveloped the back of his neck, drawing his face close to yours. Alastor's lips ghosted your own as he delivered his first thrust deep inside your fluttering heat.

"You take me so well, my darling. Your tight little hole was made for me- and me alone." Alastor whispered against your lips, finding a slow but steady rhythm. Desperate whines escaped you, and your lover drank up each and every single one. Alastor was infatuated. His crimson orbs held so much adoration for you.

You kept your gaze fixated on him as he fucked into you sweetly. Your legs narrowed around his waist as Alastor began plunging into you with more vigor. "I'm going to breed you, my sweet little doe," Alastor huffed. One of his large palms wrapped around your hand before he dragged it down to your tummy. A sharp gasp fled you as you touched the prominent bulge your lover was causing. "Feel that, my dear? I'm in so deep. Surely you'll get pregnant when I spill my seed inside you."

You clenched harshly around him from his crude words. The thought of Alastor knocking up caused the coil within you to unravel. "P-Please, breed me! Fill me up, make me yours for good!" You cried out, thighs trembling around your lover's waist. Your words diminished the last of Alastor's resolve. Before you knew it, his large hands hooked under the back of your thighs. Pushing them tightly to your chest.

A sharp gasp escaped you from the change of position. Alastor's cock reached even deeper from this angle, intensifying the heat in your lower tummy. "Such a good girl you are! You're so pilant, so willing... so eager for me to fuck a baby into you." His words caused your walls to flutter wildly around his length. You were on the edge of cumming all over his cock. The pleasure Alastor provided you was becoming too invigorating to bear.

"Al, ah... I'm close! K-Kiss me, please!" You begged as his hips pistoned harshly into yours. The lewd sound of his balls slapping against the underside of your drooling pussy sent a pleasurable chill down your spine. Alastor wasted no time capturing your lips. The kiss was hot and messy, tongues intertwining with one another as the coil within you finally snapped. Your lover drank up all of your whines as your pussy pulsed and gushed around his cock.��

Alastor wasn't far behind you. His release was triggered by yours. The feeling of your hot, wet walls trying to milk him for all he was worth made him feel lightheaded. His thrusts became sloppy before his hips ultimately stilled against yours. Alastor groaned into the kiss as his cock twitched from deep within you. Your eyes rolled into the back of your skull as the first ropes of his cum spilled into your pussy.

There was so much, and the feeling of being bred by your lover was heavenly; ironically so. Alastor slowly broke away from the kiss as he attempted to catch his breath. His cock was still nestled deep inside you as he stared down at you lovingly. You couldn't help but smile widely at your lover, allowing your palms to capture his cheeks. Rubbing Alastor's face gently with the pads of your thumbs.

"Alastor, that was... wow," You giggled as your lover slowly released his tight grip on your thighs, allowing your legs to lie flat against the bed. "You are truly perfect, my dear. I simply cannot get enough of you!" Alastor's praise caused your heart to flutter in your chest. He was so gentle with you and you alone. Pride surged through your soul at the notion that Alastor only had a soft spot for you.

Your train of thought was cut off by the sensation of your lover's cock hardening from deep inside you once more. A smirk crossed Alastor's features as he reveled in your look of shock. "What's with the look of awe, my darling? I told you I was going to breed you. I don't intend to leave this room until I am positive you have been thoroughly bred."

tags; @danveration

#hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel smut #alastor smut #alastor x you #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel imagine #alastor imagine #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x y/n

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butchvampireheimerdinger · 2 months ago

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can we get butchfemme sevika/reader hcs please :3

GAWD yes. Lord, I've been waiting for this day lessgo

ButchFemme Sevika/Reader Headcanons

⚢ In typical butch fashion, her love language is acts of service

⚢ Loves to be fawned over ! Like “Omfg babe you’re sooo strong helping me put together furniture” and trust she is melting even though her face is expressionless and immoveable

⚢ She likes when you graze your long nails over her skin for back scratches and its all nice and light and tingly

⚢ She’s not much of a prettyboy (prettybutch…?) so she doesn’t really have a skincare routine but you have an extensive regimen so she memorizes all ur million little bougie products and gets you an extra to keep at ur place so you don’t have to eff up your skincare routine in favor of spontaneous sleepovers

⚢ Yeah she’s not too particular about her grooming in general. She lets you cut her hair even if you’re not super experienced with clippers. She still hypes you up even if you nick her ear when doing up her side shave/undercut.

“Oops! Sorry babe I think I got your ear…”

“Didn’t even feel it. You’re doing great baby keep going.”

⚢ On that note, pet names: For Sevika, its baby alll dayyyyyy ! She calls you baby, my girl, my pretty girl, my woman, etc. And as for what you call her, she always loves a “omg babe” moment. And “settle down there, cowboy” but in like a jesting sorta way. Also: “my butch.”

⚢ Stone top/pillow princess anybody?

⚢ Also: she’s ur cash cow. She loves buying you expensive shit and showing you off and showing off the expensive shit. You breathed in the direction of a particularly nice perfume? Surprise! It’s in your bathroom the following day. Like. It’s a theme. Especially in ur pre-relationship courting era. “Baby anything you want I get for you. Say the word I’ll buy for you the moon, the stars, et cetera, no one can provide for you like I can” blah blah blah

⚢ But you can’t be interrupting her card games tho. She’s like a teenage boy on the xbox with those things. Probs something to be worried about tbh.

⚢ And I’ve written this into a fanfic already, but that bitch wears boyshorts. I was thinking boxers for a while but I think that would be too much bulk over them skinny little plants she wears. I am a Sevika boyshorts TRUTHER

⚢ And she works out. Matter of fact, forget the prettybutch comment because Sevika WORKS OUTTT and I think she has resistance bands. Like she goes to an actual gym but around the house you’ll find her repping with those damn resistance bands to relieve stress or just cause she sees them and remembers.

⚢ And she works out to like. Classical music. Cause she’s a classy mothafuckaaa just absolutely getting ripped and her face is in a scary ass sneer but there's like ode to joy in the background

⚢ You pack her lunch. She gets flamed at work cause her paper bag is covered in lil hearts and stickers and kissy lipstick marks and its filled with sugary baked goods like pink sparkly cupcakes and fruity pastries cause u can’t cook. But by gawd u can bake.

⚢ That being said, she’s the cook in the relationship. Especially when it comes to meat. It’s problematic. Sevika’s version of “girl dinner” is straight up protein. Her typical meal is like. A rotisserie chicken + hard boiled eggs. It made you gasp the first time you saw her pull out one of her meal prep tins and it was just that.

⚢ Oh yeah and she meal preps

⚢ Claims she “doesn’t get sick” because her “immune system is just built different.”

⚢ When she does get sick, she refuses to chill out and let herself be sick and she tries to speedrun her way to health by taking too much vitamin C and then working out and cranking the heat to “sweat it out quicker.”

⚢ She knits to relieve stress

⚢ Sleeps topless and in undies. And a wife pleaser tank if its chilly.

#arcane fanfiction #arcane #sevika headcanons #sevika hcs #sevika #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika smut #arcane headcanon #arcane league of legends #arcane season 2 #arcane s2 #arcane fanfic #arcane fic #arcane smut #vamp does arcane hcs #vamp does sevika hcs

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rencantstopfalling · 2 months ago

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Jschlatt Boyfriend HC

Jschlatt x gn!reader

Cw: NSFW MDNI 18+

Sfw:

-He outwardly says he doesn't like your dog but constantly gets caught cuddling the thing, and giving it's treats all the time

-if you work, he will get up with you and make you coffee and a bagel so you have breakfast on your way to work

- on that's same sentiment, if he isn't to busy, he will bring you lunch, either homemade or takeout

-Pretends to be grumpy when he has ro get you period products but he actually doesn't mind, he has all your favorite products written in his notes app with pictures

-absolutely adores when you take interest in his favorite shows or games. Loves to play DayZ with you and do that's stupid podcast

-he's the little spoon, ALWAYS. I'm sorry I can't think of a world where this man doesn't just want to be held and praised. Running your hands through he hair as he lays on your chest

-Spoils the hell out of you. It's actually hello shopping with him cause everything you touch, look to long at or express any type of interest in he's throwing in the cart. YOU NEVER PAY FOR ANYTHING

-Doesn't like you driving. Your his lovey your to delicate to drive. He wants you all nice and pretty as his passenger princess/prince (i also hc he drives like a maniac so sorry if you get motion sick.) It's always a fight when it's time to go out

-Learns to cook just to try and impress you

-tells you you don't have to work cause he's able to support the two of you, wants you to just pursue hobbies and he wants to fund them.

-Always takes you on vacation! Not just to japan, but anywhere you wanna go.

Nsfw:

-He curves to the left. Nothing else for me to say on that

-Definitely owns a few toys for himself, from before you guys started dating, like a flashlight, and cockring

-this guys loves missionary, loves to see your fucked out face and chest, loves to mark you

-hes not a rough guy, those most rough je will be is some deep thrusts, and maybe light chocking if you ask

-gets hard over literally everything, and is always ready to to

-loves to go down on you whether you got a pussy or cock he is down there ALL THE TIME, often wakes you up with it

-loves getting his hair pulled like a slut

-I wouldn't say he's a bottom but maybe a service top

-hates degrading you but will do it a little if you beg him, like a few dirty sluts but not much more

- however he likes to be degraded, call him all type of names, he is your much, he is your little man slut, your whore

-falls asleep right after sex, this dude just collapses on top of you, still in you. You gotta push the beast off of you in order to just breathe

- Although he doesn't like being to rough, give him a few swigs of whiskey and he will do anything you ask of him. You want him to absolutely destroy you, slap you, call you all types of names, get him drunk

-its because when he isn't drunk he severely overthinks everything and gets in his head that he won't be able to hold himself back and he will seriously hurt you, but once he is a little loose all those thoughts go away

-while he was drunk, you guys have definitely broken the bed...

#jschlatt x reader #jschlatt #jschlatt x y/n #jschlatt smut #schlatt #schlatt x reader #schlatt smut

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eddiesxangel · 8 months ago

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That’s that me, Espresso | rockstar!eddie

@mmunson86 requested: I can’t stop thinking about rockstar!Eddie x pop!Princess! reader! & its all thanks to miss SC & Espresso! Imagine they are at one of her concerts right right & she has Eddie sit in the middle of the stage! she is about to debut this song its the last song for the night and she dances on him , for him , around him & Eddie is loosing his mind so right after the concert he wastes no time and takes her into the dressing room & the rest well you know the rest 🙂‍↔️💗

Cw: modern au, Rockstar!Eddie x Pop!princes wife reader. Age gap, Eddie is a filthy simp for his girl, soft!Dom Eddie (sir), oral (f receiving), p in v (unprotected), small bit of anal fingering. Talks of pregnancy.

2.3kwords

We are back baby!!! From the Wildflower universe, if you want more of the lore on these two.

“You ready, Angel?” Your husband smiles at you.

Husband, it still has a nice ring to it. You’ve been married just under a year. Giving birth to your little one put the wedding on the back burner, but you started the wedding planning once Lila Rose was 7 months old.

“Yeah, I think so,” you smile. You’re already in your hair and makeup, just waiting for your turn to get on stage.

The rowdy crowd of music festival goers grow impatient as the crew tirelessly works to remove the previous acts' set design.

“You think they’re going to like the new song?” You fiddle with the bedazzled mic in your hands.

“You kidding me? They’re going to love it!”

Eddie always encouraged your work, even if it wasn’t his thing. He loved every song because it was yours.

“All performers take their mark,” you hear the stage director in your ear.

You give Eddie one quick kiss and make your way to the stage.

The set went perfectly, but the riding anticipation of the new single was still in the back of your mind.

“Okay, Coachella! I’m going to need you to help me out with something.” You smile. “This is my last song of the night, and it’s brand new, so I’m a bit nervous.” You pace the stage.

“Now I have a special someone backstage with me, and I know he won’t come out unless we pressure him, so I’m going to need your help, okay?” you walk over to side stage and look him in the eye

You knew he would kill you, but you needed him for the extra moral support, and you kinda had a plan up your sleeve.

“Come on out, Eddie, baby,” you smile, and the crow starts to chant Eddie’s name.

Feeling embarrassed and a bit proud of you for getting what you wanted. Eddie stocks onto the stage, giving a small wave, not wanting this to be about him.

“Sit,” you speak into the mic and point to the fold-out chair in centre stage.

Eddie sits, and before he can protest anymore, he hears the first few beats of the music.

“Nice,” you sing in your breathy tone your husband can’t get enough of.

Now he's thinkin' 'bout me every night, oh Is it that sweet? I guess so Say you can't sleep, baby, I know That's that me, espresso Move it up, down, left, right, oh Switch it up like Nintendo

Eddie really loved that last lyric. He thought it was very clever of you because he knew it was about him and how he eats you out.

Say you can't sleep, baby, I know That's that me, espresso.

You and your dancers moved to the beat without missing a step.

I can't relate to desperation My 'give a fucks' are on vacation And I got this one boy

You turn to your husband and wink.

And he won't stop calling

You take a few short steps around to the back of the chair.

When they act this way

You lean in from behind and run your free hand down his shoulder to his chest and back up.

I know I got 'em

You swear you hear him moan.

I'm working late 'cause I'm a singer

You twirl your hair around your finger, then summon Eddie to come closer.

Oh, he looks so cute wrapped around my finger

He gets up and follows you like a puppy as you strut across the stage. My twisted humor, make him laugh so often My honey bee, come and get this pollen.

You flick up the edge of your mini skirt, and Eddie can see the lacy underwear beneath your stockings.

He needs this song to be over so he can finally have you. You've been rehearsing for this moment for months now. Stressing over it and with the baby, you and him have had hardly any time to have sex like you used to.

He's thinkin' 'bout me every night, oh Is it that sweet? I guess so Say you can't sleep, baby, I know That's that me, espresso Move it up, down, left, right, oh Switch it up like Nintendo Say you can't sleep, baby, I know That's that me, espresso

Eddie is back in his seat by the second bridge, and your dancing is driving him absolutely crazy. You know what you are doing. He can see it in your eyes; your mischievous gaze tells him you had this all planned out. You probably faked being nervous just to get him out here so you could seduce him.

Eddie was losing the battle of not getting hard in front of the thousands of fans watching. He couldn't help it; his bombshell of a wife was so irresistible.

Is it that sweet? I guess so That's that me, espresso

Eddie listened as you thanked the crowd. He took your hand and yanked you off stage once he thought it had been enough time for your final bow, letting you soak in this moment before he whisked you away.

“Eddie!” You squeal while trying to keep up with him in your platform go-go boots.

“Gotta have, you know,” he growls in your ear so only you can hear.

“Really baby? I worked you up that much?” You swoon.

After all this time, Eddie still makes your heart flutter. You never thought soulmates existed, but when you met Eddie, all that changed- especially after having his baby. The way he was with your newborn had you wanting to jump his bones before the doctor okayed you for sex again.

The trailer was close but not close enough in Eddie’s eyes. A thin sheen of sweat was starting to form on Eddie’s brow, and he couldn’t tell if it was from the hot Californian sun or the fact that his cock was about to bust through his jeans, and he was trying not to have anyone notice.

“Get out,” Eddie commands as the trailer door swings back. Eddie opens it so hard.

Your team looks startled as you and Eddie enter the small space.

You give them an apologetic look and they place down their stuff and leave you both alone.

“You were perfect up there.” he pulls you in for a kiss. “So fucking proud of you.” He kisses down your neck.

“Mmmm, thank you, baby”

“You’re a goddamn succubus, you know that, Angel?” Eddie shuts the door behind them and locks it before drawing the blinds.

“Is that right? Mr. Munson.”

“Oh, it is, Mrs. Munson.” Eddie pulls you in by the waist for a heated kiss. Still, after all this time, you both were so greedy for one another. Nothing can ever break the bond between the both of you… not again.

“God, Angel, you were a goddamn tease on that stage; you got me looking like a simp.”

You pull back, curious as to where he had heard that term.

“Simp?”

“VR tells me things.” Violet Rose, Eddie's oldest, whom you’ve adopted, is now twenty two.

“Okay, old man,” you giggle, and he walks you back to the sofa in the trailer’s back corner.

“Enough talking, more kissing.”

Your tailored dress, made just for you, was not easy to strip. Eddie was having a hell of a time trying to get out of it, only to groan when he saw your pantyhose as another barrier.

“Why do they make these things so tight.” He grumbles as you giggle at him.

“You weren’t complaining about it ten minutes ago,” you snide.

“Don’t make me put you over my knee.” He smirks.

“No, Sir,” you put your lip.

Finally, once you are out of your garments, Eddie kneels right between your legs.

“Baby, you’re going to hurt your knees,” You push his long hair back. “Why don’t we go -OH - to the couch” Not listening, his lips are already on your throbbing cunt.

The plus from your clit was relieved as Eddie’s tongue grazes it before quickly lapping and flicking at it.

“Oh fuck!” Your legs buckle, and your grip on Eddie’s hair tightens. He growls at the pain in his scalp, but he loves it all the same.

You feel his tongue go down, then to the left, then the right and finally circles your clit.

“Mmmmm, tastes so good, Angel”

“Please don’t stop!”

You feel Eddie's skilled tongue glide through your slick folds before you feel his hands nudge your legs, signalling to open them wider.

Eddie’s thick long fingers pump up into your warm wet cunt until you’re losing the battle to say upright. Your body is hunched over as Eddie sends waves of pleasure through you.

“Mmmm, that’s it, that’s my good girl. Cum for me.” The pads of his fingers graze you g spot each time. He doesn’t stop until he knows you are satisfied.

“That was a big one, baby; singing for me, go, you all worked up, didn’t it?” He stands and leads you to the couch until you’re lying down, legs spread nice and wide for him.

“Mmmhmmm,” you hum as you watch Eddie finally strip.

His body never looked better; he wants to be the healthiest to watch your baby grow up and maybe put another one in you soon.

“You ready for me, sweetheart?”

“Yes, sir, more than ready.” And it was true; it’s been a few weeks since you’ve had time to have sex, and it was long overdue.

All the pent-up sexual tension between the both of you is finally being released when Eddie's hard cock slides into yours effortlessly.

“Fuck I missed my pussy, baby girl.” His head tilts back, and you take the opportunity to suck on his neck, just as you know he likes it.

“So fucking beautiful” his cock pumped in and quickly backed out.

The tip of his dick ring never failed to make you see stars. Already you’re a moaning mess for him, cock drunk, and it’s not even been a minute yet.

“There she is, there’s my good girl” Eddie palms your tit as he continues to thrust deep inside of you. He watches your eyes roll to the back of your head, blissed out by how he makes you feel.

“More” you moan.

“More what?”

“Sir, please, I need you. Baby, I love you. I love you, please, I need it.” You babble.

Eddie's heart swells. He loves you so much he would give you the moon and stars if he could. Hearing you love him, especially when the two of you are like this, really makes him kick into high gear.

He will never take for granted those three words when you say them to him; your past is too painful not to.

“Tell me what you need, baby girl.”

“Fill me.” You pull him down into a kiss. Your tongue explores his mouth.

His hand that was planted on your waist is now travelling lower to your ass.

“This what you wanted, baby? All of your holes filled?” His finger teases your puckered hole.

“Yes!” You gasp.

“I think that can be arranged. Suck” he points his finger at your face, and you take as much of it in your mouth. You suck on it until it’s dripping with your saliva.

“Such a dirty girl, letting me fuck you and play with your ass hole.” His finger slowly glides in, and he pumps it to match the rhythm of his thrusts. “Isn’t that right?”

“Yes, sir!”

“God, I love you.” Eddie can’t help but to fuck you frivolously. The sound of wet skin slapping together filled the thin walls of the trailer.

“Please, please, please.” You were so close you could feel the pit building.

The pressure of his piercing brushing your g spot with every heavy thrust, each shape snap of his hips making him slide deep inside-mixed with the pressure of his finger pressed deep inside of you was bringing you to the edge of bliss.

“You going to come when I tell you to, Angel?”

“I can’t-can’t hold it!”

“Yes, you can,” he growls.

“F-fuck,” you curse him. You can’t hold it for much longer.

“Mmm, that’s right, babygirl. You’re going to listen to what I tell you.”

Your pussy naturally grips Eddie's cock so tight he almost loses it.

“Please, Sir. I want to cum. Please!”

The look in your eyes has Eddie reeling. The way you beg and submit to him, his perfect girl. His perfect wife, the perfect mother to his children.

“Cum” he growls, and you let out a cry of relief.

With your arms wrapped around the back of Eddie's neck, you pull him down into you on instinct. His body weight pressed into you, and your cunt grips his cock so deliciously Eddie is coming with you.

“Shit, baby girl, I think you nearly killed me that time,” Eddie chuckles as his legs give out and his total weight collapses on top of you.

You giggle dumbly as Eddie plants kisses all over your face.

You look up; his face is red and sweaty, but he’s never looked more beautiful.

“That was long overdue.” You sigh with relief.

“You’re telling me,” he chuckles with you.” “Let’s get you cleaned up, mama.”

“You trying to knock me up, Munson?” Deep down, you’d love to have another baby.

“What if I was?” He looks back over his shoulder, catching you checking out his juicy ass.

“Then I’d say we should keep practicing.”

“Wait for real?”

“You’re no,t getting any younger, “ you giggle.

“Oh, you little minx, you’re in for it.” He runs back towards you, lifts you off the couch, and plops you in his lap.

“I’m sorry!” You laugh as Eddie tickles your sides.

“You really want to start trying?” He asks genuinely.

“Yeah,” you nod.

“Guess it’s time for round two, gotta make sure it really sticks.”

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biblicallyaccuratemeat · 15 days ago

Text

Velveteen

MDNI!!!

A/N: My bby girl @ethanhoewke asked me to write this, so of course I had to. Beta read by @teaflavoredwitch Bucky Barnes x female reader, online dating, first date, smut!!!, p in v sex, fingering, boob/nipple worship, hickeys and love bites, marking, praise kink, unprotected sex, gentle dom Bucky, pet names, dirty talk, begging, Bucky's metal arm

Word Count: 5.6k

“You have a date tonight. 7 o’clock, don’t be late,” Sam comments off handedly, brushing past Bucky to dig through his fridge, “Oh, and don’t stand up the poor girl either.” Sam casts him a knowing look over his shoulder.

Bucky freezes, staring at his friend incredulously, “Excuse me?” He scoffs, immediately on the defense.

It’s that fucking dating app, he just knows it. Sam pestered him incessantly for months, goading him to set up a profile. Claiming that he needed to “get with the times”. Bucky runs his organic hand over his face tiredly, he feels a migraine coming on. Sam means well, he always does, but his execution is lacking to say the least. Bucky stomps over to his liquor cabinet, making a beeline for his whiskey.

“Oh no you don’t,” Sam huffs, snatching the bottle from his hand. Bucky casts a scowl that could curdle milk. Sam only laughs, immune to the former Winter Soldier’s glowering, “You need to be sober and your usual…charming self for this date.” Sam pats his back, though it feels more patronizing than comforting.

“You set up a profile for me on that goddamn app, didn’t you?” Bucky accuses, nudging Sam away.

“What are you gonna wear?” Sam dances around the question, smiling in a way that’s meant to look innocent but Bucky clocks him immediately. “You should dress up, look nice. Don’t wear those ratty old jeans you love so much. What’d you used to wear back in the day? I bet you were killin’ all the ladies in your uniform, huh?” Sam grins mischievously, waggling his eyebrows.

Bucky finds himself reminiscing for a moment, Sam’s comment taking him back to his youth. Dating was simpler back then, really everything was simpler. His life especially. Women fell over themselves to catch his eye, dressing up to the nines in dress greens, dancing the night away… Fuck he felt old. He wonders if Sam put his real age on his profile, or something safe like thirty-three.

Despite the overwhelming urge to bail, stand up the date, Bucky hesitates. Even all these years later, the good manners and etiquette his mother instilled in him reared its head. Always pull out the chair for a young lady, hold open doors, be punctual… He’d go to the fucking date, but he wasn’t going to be pleased about it. He’d stay the required amount of time, pay for the meal, kiss her cheek, and leave.

Easy.

In retrospect, it should have been easy. But nothing really is, at least not anymore for Bucky.

He arrived at the restaurant early, found a table. His anxiety mounting with each passing second, he must have checked his watch at least twenty times. Dressed in slacks- god when was the last time he wore slacks? He feels ridiculous, he’s sure he looks it too. A quarter past seven, and whoever is supposed to come hasn’t. Fuck, did he get stood up? Probably. Bucky’s sure Sam put the worst pictures of him possible on his profile, he probably thought it was the height of comedy too.

“Are you James?” A soft, shy voice snaps Bucky out of his brooding.

His head whips up, thrown off kilter by the timid question. He freezes, grumpy expression morphing into one of surprise. You’re gorgeous, exactly his type. Fuck, maybe Sam was onto something here…

He blinks, clearing his throat awkwardly. He shoots up out of his seat, bumping into the table and sending silverware clattering to the floor, “Shit!” He crouches down, quickly gathering up the discarded fork and knife. He smacks his head on the corner of the table on his way back up, hissing in pain. Great. So far this is the date from his nightmares.

You giggle softly, immediately enamored by this clumsy, bumbling dork. You cover your smile with your hand, eyes crinkling with mirth. Bucky swears his face is on fire, a nervous chuckle bubbling up in his throat, “Yeah, that’s me. Call me Bucky, though, everyone does.”

Bucky’s anxiety, his wariness melts easily like a popsicle in the summer sun. Your presence, your demeanor, it disarms and renders him pliant in a way that should concern him. Or at the very least, piss him off. But it doesn’t, not in the fucking slightest. He finds himself opening up to you, sharing stories and memories that he wouldn’t even dare to revisit if he was shit faced. He doesn’t even order a drink, sticking to water. The hours wear on, Bucky staying far longer than he originally planned, but he can’t help himself.

This may be the best date of Bucky’s entire miserable existence. He’d have to send Sam a fucking fruit basket or something in the morning. Damn if he didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of being right though.

He finds himself walking you to your front door, lingering on the porch. Your smile, all sunshine and sweetness, disarms him completely. He’s helpless to the onslaught of emotions your mere presence brings about. Emotions he believed were long gone from his psyche. A warmth in his chest, a flutter in his heart, knots in the pit of his stomach.

“Do you want to come inside for a drink?” You offer, tentative and hopeful.

Bucky gazed into those doe eyes, seeing the timid smile and the shy invitation reflected back at him. He felt a stirring in his chest, a warmth that had little to do with the drink you offered. You, with your soft curves and gentle demeanor, had somehow penetrated the walls he’d so carefully constructed around his battered heart. In one evening, you lowered all his defenses. He was mystified.

But even as a part of him yearned to take you up on that offer, to cross the threshold and lose himself in your sweet embrace, Bucky hesitated. He knew he had to tread carefully, to savor this newfound connection. He didn’t want to rush you, frighten you away with the intensity of his long-dormant desires.

Bucky reached out, gently brushing a lock of hair behind your ear, his fingertips grazing the soft skin of your cheek ever so lightly. He leaned in closer, until mere inches separated you, inhaling the intoxicating scent of you that he hoped would cling to his skin for days after this. When he spoke, his voice was a low, intimate murmur, “I’d love nothing more than to come inside, to steal a few more moments with you,” he began, his sea colored eyes darkened with a mixture of barely restrained hunger and tender affection, “But I don’t want to impose, sweetheart. Not tonight.”

Bucky’s nose brushed against the apple of your cheek, a teasing whisper of contact, as he inhaled once more, “Besides,” he added with a roguish grin, straightening up reluctantly, “What kind of gentleman would I be if I didn’t let a lady retire for the evening?”

He brought your small hand up to his lips, pressing a lingering kiss to your knuckles, his gaze never leaving yours, “Dream of me?” He murmurs against your skin. With that, Bucky steps back, releasing your hand. He’s ready to turn on his heel, go back to his empty apartment and beat off till his dick is raw. But then, you’re speaking again, stopping him in his tracks.

“Let me rephrase that,” You assert delicately, “Come inside and have a drink with me. I’m not some virtuous debutante. You can come inside, and you should.”

The dulcet timbre of your voice, the clear invitation laden in your words, sends a jolt straight to Bucky’s core. The gentleman in him reeled back, shocked by your boldness. But the man, the one who had seen and done things no decent person should, the one who had been starved of intimate connection for so long, surged forward, an aching hunger awakening inside him.

Bucky’s eyes shone with a sudden intensity, a barely curbed appetite burning in their blue depths. He took another step closer to you, then another, until he stood mere inches from where you lingered in the doorway. His heated gaze raked over your form, drinking in every single detail, committing them to memory, “As you wish,” he all but sighs out, eyes fluttering shut briefly, “I should warn you though, once I get you inside… I won’t be able to keep my hands off you. You’re awakening things in me that I’ve tried my damndest to suppress.”

He followed you in, allowing you to lead him to the heart of your dwelling. As the door clicked shut, Bucky found himself acutely aware of every breath you took, every soft sway of your hips, every silken whisper of fabric against flesh. Turning to face you, Bucky reached out, cupping your face in his remaining hand, his calloused palm a stark contrast to the downy softness of your skin. His thumb brushed over the swell of your lower lip, tracing the delicate curve.

“So, what do you want to drink?” You ask, already breathless and he hasn’t so much as kissed you yet. With an impish smirk, you tug him in the direction of the couch. The anticipation lingers in the air, heady and electric. Like the way everything feels static, hair standing up before lightning strikes. It feels as though you have a wasp’s nest in your belly, far more spirited and dangerous than butterflies.

The impish smile, the way your fingers curled into his as you guided him towards the couch, sent a fresh wave of desire crashing through Bucky’s veins. He allowed you to lead him, a willing captive to your whims, as you settled onto the plush cushions. The rational part of him knew he should slow down, rein in the tempest of lust that threatened to consume you both. But, rationality was never his strong suit and he reveled in the knowledge that he had ignited a twin hunger in you.

“Whiskey,” Bucky replied, his gaze locked onto the gentle sway of your hips as you moved to pour his drink, “Neat, please.” His voice a low, anticipatory murmur, the words dripping with double entendre, “But I hope that’s not the only thing you’ll be putting in my mouth tonight.”

He leaned back against the couch, the picture of casual ease, even as his eyes greedily drank in every delectable inch of you. As you handed him the glass of amber liquid, Bucky’s fingers brushed against yours, a fleeting touch that sent sparks skittering up his arm. He brought the glass to his nose, inhaling deeply, allowing the smoky aroma to mingle with the sweet, heady scent of your perfume.

He takes a long sip, letting the liquid burn his mouth. He holds it there for a moment, savoring the oaky flavor. He swallows slow and unhurried, feeling the heat travel down his throat to join the fire in his stomach. Setting the glass aside, Bucky leaned in closer, his hand finding your knee, his vibranium fingertips, tracing idle patterns on the supple skin peeking out from under your dress. His eyes never left yours, his gaze a tangible caress that set your soul alight.

A becoming blush darkens your cheeks, you huff softly, equal parts aroused and disarmed, “You don’t mince words, do you?”

Bucky chuckled softly at your flustered response, the sound a deep, rich rumble that seemed to resonate through his chest. He could feel the subtle tremble of your thigh beneath metal, “Blunt honesty has always been a virtue of mine,” He murmurs, invading the final remnants of your personal space, “You’ll probably find I’m too direct, too forward, too hungry for things I want.” His hand slid a fraction higher up your thigh, the rough smooth metal pads of his fingers causing an eruption of goosebumps in their wake, “But I only say the things I mean, the things I feel…the things I crave.”

Letting out a shaky exhale, you take a long sip from your glass for courage, “That’s okay, I think I like that about you. It’s refreshing.”

The way you trembled, how your breath hitched as you sipped your drink, the blush still painting your cheeks a pretty shade of pink… Bucky was a goner, he knew that much. Your honesty in return, your admission of liking the unfiltered nature of his advances, sent blood rushing downwards. Unable to resist the urge to touch you more, Bucky slid his vibranium hand fully beneath the hem of your dress, kneading the supple fat of your thigh. His other arm snaked around your waist, gently tugging you closer until you were practically on his lap, your bodies aligned in tantalizing proximity.

“I’m glad you do,” He hums, his voice seeming to stroke over your nerves like a physical touch, “Because I have a feeling it’s one of many things you’ll appreciate about me, in due time.”

His gaze flicked down to your lips, to the neat sip you’d taken of your drink, before dragging back up to meet the widening pool of your eyes. A wicked, sinful grin tugged at the corner of his mouth, “Why don’t you finish your drink, sweetheart?”

You throw back the glass obediently, all but chugging down the liquid. You don’t notice the burn, the swirling inferno of lust outshining the sting.

Bucky’s grin widened as he watched you toss back the remains of your drink, a rush of satisfaction soaring through him at your clear enthusiasm. The way you looked at him then, with those wide, expectant eyes and parted, glistening lips… The remaining whiskey in Bucky’s glass is already long forgotten. His vibranium hand slid from your thigh to your hip, gripping the curve possessively as he surged forward to close the scant distance between you. Your lips met in a crash of heat and desperation, your gasp lost against the sudden, intense pressure as Bucky’s mouth slanted over yours.

He kissed you with a hunger bordering on ferocity, as though he meant to devour you, to make you a part of himself. His tongue delved past your parted lips, stroking over the sharpness of your teeth and tangling with yours in a sensual dance. His organic hand fisted in your silken hair, gripping the locks and tugging your head back to deepen the angle, while the vibranium one wrapped around your waist tightened, crushing you against the hard, muscular length of his body.

Bucky groaned into your mouth, an almost whiny sound torn from the depths of his desire, as he felt you melt against him. Your fingers latched into his shirt, balling the fabric in your fists as you clung to him, to the solid, unyielding strength of his frame. He could feel every lush curve, every gentle swell and dip of your body, could feel the way your heart raced beneath your sternum and your breath grew short and quick.

When Bucky finally broke the kiss, it was only to trail his lips down the column of your throat, to lave your racing pulse with the flat of his tongue. He nipped at the delicate tendon, teeth grazing your flesh and his lips soothing the sting with a lascivious murmur, “Fuck, you taste even better than I imagined.”

A soft, keening moan is torn from your throat, lost to the onslaught of the sensations overwhelming you. You tilt your head back, eagerly offering up your throat to him, a gazelle submitting to the ravenous lion.

Bucky growled against your neck, a sound of pure, unbridled lust, as he felt your body shudder and your breathy moan reverberate through you. The salty sweet taste of your skin, the hot slide of your breath against his cheek, it was all driving him to a fever pitch, urged on by the desperate, wanton sounds spilling from your kiss-swollen lips. His hands slid down your back, fingers splaying across the small dip at the base of your spine, holding you flush against him as he explored your throat with lips and teeth and tongue. He could feel the heat of you, the way your body seemed to burn against his touch, and he knew he wouldn’t be satisfied until he had explored every inch of your lush form. Bucky’s hands slid lower, cupping the fat of your ass, squeezing and kneading the flesh between his palms. He ground his hips against yours, letting you feel the hard, insistent press of his cock, the way it strained against the barrier of his jeans. His mouth returned to yours, claiming your lips in another searing kiss, his tongue joining yours once more, devouring you with single-minded intensity.

You gasped sharply into the fierce, claiming kiss, your body arching upward instinctively to grind your hips in answer to Bucky’s needy friction. Lost in a haze of sensation, you wound your arms around his neck, nails digging into his shoulders as you held on for dear life. Or perhaps, for the sheer ecstasy of it all.

Bucky shuddered as your nails dug into his shoulders, he could feel your hips rocking against his, seeking friction, aching to be filled, and it took every ounce of his rapidly waning control not to simply tear your clothes from your body and fuck you into the couch.

Instead, with herculean effort, Bucky swept an arm under your knees, lifting you easily as he rose from the couch. He carried you swiftly down the hall, his lips never leaving your throat, until he found your bedroom. Pushing open the door, he carried you inside, kicking it shut behind him. Bucky laid you down on the bed with a suddenness that stole your breath, his hard body blanketing yours as he claimed your lips once more. As he kissed you, his hands slid beneath your dress, shucking it up to your sternum, bunching the fabric as his fingers sought the bare skin underneath. He stroked over the soft swell of your tits, the pebbled crests of your nipples straining through the bralette you wore. Breaking the kiss with a shaky breath, Bucky pulled back just enough to yank your dress over your head. In a flash of impatient movement, he dispatched your bra, tossing it carelessly across the room to land in a scrap of lace and satin. His gaze drank in the sight of your bare torso, taking in the ripe curves of your breasts, the flushed peaks of your nipples, and he swallowed hard.

“Fuck, babydoll,” He breathed, awe and reverence, an all-consuming desire threading his rough voice, “You look good enough to eat.”

Bucky didn’t delay, attacking your newly exposed tits, his hands cupped the soft mounds, kneading and squeezing the pliant flesh as he dragged the flat of his tongue over the taught peak of your nipple. A quiet gasp escaped your lips at the sudden onslaught of sensation, your fingers fisting in his cropped hair, holding him to the task.

Pleasure spiked through you as Bucky’s teeth closed around your nipple, worrying the sensitive bud before suckling hard at the tender flesh. A moan, raw and needy, tore from your throat as he lavished attention on your breasts, vibranium hand pinching and rolling the neglected peak as his tongue swirled and lapped. Bucky took his time, worshipping your breasts until you writhed beneath him, your body burning and aching for more. The wet, almost pornographic sounds of Bucky’s mouth on your skin fill the room, mingling with your broken moans and the creaking of the bed frame beneath your writhing form. He marked your flesh with a fervor that was almost feral, determined to leave his claim stamped into every inch of your willing skin. Bucky’s hands slid lower, fumbling down the front of your soaked panties. The cotton clings to your cunt, slick and sticky. With a low groan of approval, his finger stroked over the puffy folds. You arch into his touch, craving more, desperate for the relief that only he could award you.

Bucky wastes no time, pushing your panties down your thighs with an urgency. The moment your cunt was bared to him, he plunged two vibranium fingers deep inside your leaking hole, groaning against your breast as your walls clenched around the sudden intrusion. He pumped his fingers in and out of your tight heat, his thumb circling the sensitive bundle of nerves at the apex of your thighs. At the same time, his mouth continued its assault on your tits, sucking dark marks into the supple flesh as he suckled at your nipples. Bucky could feel your slick walls fluttering and clenching around his plunging fingers as he fingered your pussy with a firm, purposeful rhythm. The wet squelching of his digits pumping in and out of you joined the symphony of your needy noises and slurping of Bucky’s mouth.

His thumb circled your sensitive clit with relentless pressure, the coolness of the vibranium only heightening your pleasure. Bucky could feel your body tensing, your hips rocking eagerly into his hand as he brought you closer and closer to the edge. Determined to make you come at least once before shoving his dick in you, he doubled his efforts, plunging deeper, rubbing harder, suckling with greater intensity, until he felt your body shake and seize beneath him.

“Oh, fuck,” You cry out, your voice pitching high and needy as your body sings beneath his touch. Electric, burning pleasure crackled through every nerve ending, your pussy clamping down and throbbing around Bucky’s vibranium fingers as wave after wave of your orgasm drowns you. You thrash and writhe, your back arching sharply off the bed as the stickiness of your orgasm gushes around his invading fingers. Broken, ecstatic moans spilled from your lips, your fingers clawing at his hair, holding him to your heaving chest as you ride out the intense, mind-numbing pleasure.

Through the haziness of your orgasm, you can feel Bucky continue to worship your breasts, licking over the hardened peaks of your nipples, prolonging the bliss radiating through your body. You mewl and quiver, your hips grinding desperately against his hand. As the aftershocks begin to subside, you relax back onto the mattress, panting and trembling. You look up at Bucky with soupy, fucked-out eyes, a weak, satisfied smile on your spit-glossy lips. The sight of you splayed out beneath him, your body trembling weakly in the shadow of your climax, your tits heaving as you gasped for breath… it made Bucky’s cock throb and swell impossibly harder in his pants. Slowly, reluctantly, Bucky withdrew his fingers from your still-fluttering cunt, bringing them to his mouth to suck your slick from his digits. His tongue swirled around each one, laving up every last drop of your wetness, his eyes never leaving yours as he savored your flavor with a low, approving groan.

As he finished cleaning your spend from his fingers, Bucky leaned down to capture your lips in a deep, sensual kiss. He let you taste yourself on his tongue, the salty-sweet essence of your orgasm mingling with the smoky heat of the whiskey he’d consumed. At the same time, his hands traveled down your body, coasting over the dip of your waist and the flare of your hips, to grip the globes of your ass once more. He squeezed the plush fat, kneading it as he ground his hips against yours, letting you feel the thick, rigid outline of his arousal, still hidden in his slacks.

Breaking the kiss, Bucky nuzzled between the valley of your breasts, his lips brushing against the sensitive, marked skin as he murmured, “You look so pretty coming for me, babydoll. The fucking sounds, the faces you make… Fuck, I can’t wait to feel this tight cunt wrapped around my cock.”

Bucky’s filthy praise sent a fresh surge of liquid heat rushing through your core, a needy whimper escaping your lips as you arched wantonly into his touch. Your fingers fumble with his belt, tugging at the buckle with clumsy desperation. You could feel the heat radiating off his skin, could smell the spicy, warm scent of him mingled with the barest trace of whiskey on his breath. It made you dizzy, aching with a desperate need to feel him stretching you open.

Bucky caught your wrist gently as your fingers reached for his belt, halting your desperate attempts to divest him of his clothes. He gazed down at you with a wicked glimmer in his eyes, a lazy, sensual grin curving his lips as he drank in the sight of your flushed face, your kiss-swollen lips parted around a needy whimper, chest heaving with each ragged breath. Leaning in closer, Bucky brushed his lips against yours in a fleeting, teasing caress before murmuring in a low, rough rasp, “Patience, babydoll. As much as I want nothing more than to bury myself in your perfect little cunt, I’m not done playing with you yet.”

One hand slid up your flank, cupping the underside of your breast, his calloused palm scraping deliciously against it. His thumb lightly brushed over your nipple, teasing the abused peak, as his vibranium hand traced the curve of your waist before settling on your hip, squeezing the bone appreciatively. “You’re going to beg for my cock, baby. I want to hear that pretty mouth sobbing my name as I split you open on my dick. I’m gonna fuck you into this mattress so good, you aren’t gonna be able to walk right.”

Bucky rolled his hips, once more grinding the hard heat of his erection against your slick, aching pussy. He groaned, a low, guttural sound that sent vibrations through your flesh. “Tell me, baby,” he whispers, his breath hot against your ear, “Is this what you want? Do you want me to fuck this greedy little pussy until you’re gushing for me like a broken faucet?” He punctuated his words with a sharp thrust of his hips, the thick ridge of his cock grinding hard against your sensitive, swollen flesh.

You whimper softly, looking up at Bucky with hazy, hooded eyes shimmering with desperation. Your cheeks flush a pretty shade that matches the rosy hue of your hardened nipples as they pebble in the cool air of your bedroom. You lick your lips, tasting the lingering flavor of his kisses mixed with the salt of your own sweat. “Please, Bucky…” You breathed, your sweet, whiny voice pitched high with arousal, “I’m aching, I need you to fuck me please. I’ll be such a good girl for you. Please?” You flutter your lashes, putting on a sweet, guileless expression, “I’ll do anything, be anything you want me to be. Please just make the ache go away.”

The desperation in your voice, the way you begged so sweetly for his cock, the needy little whimpers spilling from your lips as you rolled your hips against his in wanton invitation… it shredded the last vestiges of Bucky’s control. With a low, feral growl, he surged forward, capturing your mouth in a brutal, sloppy kiss as his hands made quick work of his belt and fly. In a flash, he shed his pants and boxers, freeing his thick, aching cock. It bobbed heavily against his stomach, the girthy shaft pulsing with need, the broad head flushed an angry, almost painful red. Pearly beads of precum leaked from the slit, dripping down the underside of his length, making it glisten erotically in the low light.

Breaking the kiss with a sharp nip to your lower lip, Bucky gripped your thighs, pushing them up and back until your knees were bent and your calves rested on his broad shoulders. The new position left you completely open to him, your dripping, plump cunt exposed and ready for the taking. Gripping the base of his cock, Bucky rubbed the swollen head through your slick folds, coating himself in your arousal. He groaned at the feel of your stickiness leaking over his sensitive flesh, at the way your body yielded so sweetly to his touch. He notched the broad crown of his dick at the entrance to your core, the thick head stretching you open around him.

“Fuck, babydoll,” Bucky grunted, his voice strained with the effort of holding back, of not slamming forward and burying himself to the hilt in one brutal thrust, “I’m going to fill this greedy cunt so fucking full. Gonna fuck you real good, baby, make that ache go away.”

Bucky’s eyes lock on yours, holding your gaze captive. You watch with rapt attention as his pupils dilate, a deep black dwarfing the cool blue his irises, until there’s but a small sliver of color left. Your hands fly up, gripping the fat and muscle of his biceps, nails digging crescent shaped marks into his flesh. Slowly, tortuously Bucky sinks inch by burning inch into your cunt. The air is punched from your lungs, the molten heat of him splitting you in half pushes you to the brink of sanity. Bucky’s muscles flexed beneath your fingers as he sank into your tight, soaked heat with an almost sadistic slowness. Each inch of his thick, pulsing cock stretching you wider, filling you more completely, drew a ragged gasp from your lips. Your inner walls clenched and fluttered around his invading length, trying desperately to adjust to the delicious intrusion. He didn’t stop until he was fully seated inside you, his heavy balls nestling against the curve of your ass. With a low, ragged groan he remained still, allowing you to feel every throbbing inch of him, letting you savor the way he stretched you so exquisitely. Panting harshly, Bucky leaned down to capture your mouth in a deep, hungry kiss. His tongue licked into your mouth, tasting you, consuming you, as hips began to move in a slow, relentless rhythm. He withdrew until just the tip remained inside before surging forward, burying himself to the hilt in one powerful thrust.

He set a steady, pounding pace, your old bed frame creaking and shaking with the force of his thrusts. Each drive of his hips rocked you upward, the harsh slap of skin against skin echoing through your bedroom as he fucked into you with ruthless, single-minded intensity.

“Harder, please, fuck me harder,” You whine, your voice pitching high and desperate as you screw your eyes shut and surrender yourself completely to the overwhelming sensations consuming you. Your nails dig harder into the well-honed muscles of Bucky’s biceps, clinging to him like a lifeline as you feel yourself hurtling towards the edge of oblivion once more.

Each vicious, pounding thrust of his hips drives the air from your lungs, the breathlessness of your panting merging with the slap of his hips into your thighs and the bed frame groaning beneath you. You can feel every throbbing each, every turgid vein, filling you so impossibly full that you swear you can feel him in your throat. You’re drowning in the sheer, mindless bliss of it all, every thought, every shred of coherence stripped away until there’s nothing left but the raw, visceral need to come undone around him. “Harder,” you beg, your voice ragged and desperate, your body yielding utterly to his punishing, driving power.

Bucky snarled in response to your desperate plea, his hips surging forward with renewed vigor. He gripped your thighs hard enough to leave bruises, pulling you onto his plundering cock as he slammed into you with brutal force. “Fuck, baby, you feel so goddamned good,” Bucky growled, his voice raw and ragged with pleasure. He could feel your velvety walls clenching around his plunging length, your body welcoming each vicious thrust as if it were made for the sole purpose of milking his dick. Angling his hips, Bucky aimed for the wettest depths of your cunt, wrenching raw, ecstatic cries from your throat. He pounded into it with laser focus, grunting from the effort of his thrusts, his muscles flexing and bunching beneath your grasping fingers.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Take it. Take every fucking inch,” he commanded, his gaze burning into yours with fierce, possessive intensity, “Let me hear that sweet voice as I fuck this sloppy little pussy.”

Bucky could feel his release building, coiling tight in his gut as his thrusts grew more erratic, more desperate. He was close, so fucking close, but he wouldn’t let himself come until he’d fucked every last ounce of pleasure from your body. “Gonna fill you up, baby girl,” He promised roughly, “I’m going to pump you so fucking full, gonna be leaking out of this pretty hole for days. You want that, sweetheart?”

“Fuck,” You sigh out, lost to the pleasure, “Please, give me your cum, I’ve been a good girl. Give it to me, Bucky.”

With a harsh groan, Bucky slammed into you one final time, burying himself to the hilt inside your spasming heat. Your cunt flutters and throbs, joining him in the throes of a toe curling orgasm. He captures your mouth in a brutal, devouring kiss, swallowing your needy whines as his cock jerked and pulsed, spurting thick ropes of pearlescent seed deep into your clutching core. Bucky’s body shuddered and quaked above you, his hips rocking shallowly as he rode out the waves of his intense release. His cock throbbed, painting your insides white with his essence, marking you irrevocably as his. He moaned long and low into your mouth, as the last gushes of his orgasm ebbed away. Bucky broke the kiss, his breathing ragged and harsh.He rested his forehead against yours, his blue eyes boring intensely into yours as he ground the base of his shaft against your sensitive sex. His spent cock was still nestled deep inside you, plugging you up. Bucky’s hand crept between your bodies, calloused fingers finding your sensitive, aching clit. He circled the swollen nub with a surprising gentleness, coaxing lazy sparks of pleasure from your overstimulated flesh, “Such a good girl,” he whispered, grinning lazily, “You took that so well, sweetheart. I’m gonna take you out for our second date tomorrow morning, that okay with you?”

You huff softly, rolling your eyes playfully. As if that offer would be anything less than okay.

#fanfic #fanfiction #bucky barnes #marvel #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x female reader #smut #mcu #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #callie's masterlist

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mameillieureennemie · 27 days ago

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i wanted to write more co-workers!vi x f!reader who "hate" each other but make it r rated. :) 18+, minors do not interact or else 🫵🏾

You don't know what came over you; you're usually not this easy to push around.

But Vi's doe eyes trapped you, drawing you in along with the warmth of her hands, and temptation is a very hard thing to resist.

Especially when temptation is pushing you into a supply closet and up against a wall. Especially when temptation is sinking her teeth into your neck, hellbent on leaving her mark on you. Especially when temptation swallows your moans with her mouth, kissing long and deep until you're dazed and breathless.

Temptation is so hard to resist, especially if its name is Violet.

"Vi, you need to—" You're cut short by deft fingers pushing your skirt up to your waist. Then they're fiddling with the waistband of your panties, pulling at the elastic before slipping behind it. You bite your bottom lip hard when you feel a familiar brush against your swollen clit. "You can't—"

Vi shushes you, already rubbing dizzying circles against your clit. The tempo is nice and slow, but the sensation has you shaking, clenching your thighs around her hand. "It's okay," she assures you quietly, still imprinting the marks of her teeth into your skin. "As long as you aren't loud, no one will hear us."

You attempt a scoff, but it's shaky, verging on breathy. "And why would I be the prob—fuck," you gasp, body curling in as Vi slides a finger into your already slick cunt. "Oh."

"You were saying?" Vi murmurs, now at your ear, and you should be infuriates at how smug she sounds, but damn it, it sounds hot. You whimper as Vi slowly starts to fuck you, her thumb still rubbing those dizzing circles against your throbbing clit. It's immediately a lot; the combination of her finger hitting that sweet spot along with the added stimulation to your clit...

Soon enough, you're quivering in her arms, mouth agape as a line of drool escapes from one side. Your nails dig into her biceps, unable to fully sink into that dense muscle through the material of her blazer. You can do nothing but release choked up whines, eyes gazing at an equally dazed Vi, unfocused as she bullies another finger into you.

It's still slow, but it's deeper as Vi wraps her other arm around your waist to pull you closer. You allow it, still clinging onto her and yanking her in because you want to kiss her—you need to kiss her.

And she lets you, moaning greedily into your mouth as she starts to fuck you faster. Fast enough that the slick noises of your cunt fill the small room, loud and messy and—

"Have you seen her and Vi?" Someone from outside the supply closet suddenly say, making your eyes widen and regain focus. The pleasure is still there, but panic is brought to the forefront at the risk of being discovered.

"Vi," you start, going to push at her, but Vi's grip is strong on you. She's even tightened it, not allowing you to escape, as she buries her head into your shoulder. "Vi, they'll hear us."

"Then stay quiet," is all you hear before Vi's pulling her fingers out from your pussy and stuffing them in your mouth. You immediately shudder when your taste explodes across your tongue and only sink further when Vi roughly slides her thigh between your legs...

And shoves it up against your cunt, making your eyes roll back and your mouth go lax around her fingers.

Oh.

"Good girl," Vi growls, loud enough for you to hear. "So sweet and soft for me. Allowing me to fuck her right here like a filthy—"

"Do you think they went out of lunch?" You dimly hear someone else say, but you're too far gone. In too deep as Vi fucks you on her thigh, surely soaking her slacks right down to the skin.

"Oh I doubt it," the first person says, laughing at the moment Vi pulls back from your shoulder, staring you down with lust-filled eyes and crimson cheeks. The sight of her enough to have you pulling her back in, mouths crashing together once more.

You feel yourself about to come, feel the thread about to snap—

"They hate each other."

Your vision goes white.

#vi x reader #vi x you #vi x y/n #arcane x reader #arcane x you #arcane #arcane league of legends #kismet writes ☆~#18+ mdni #co-workers!vi x reader

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leighsartworks216 · 4 months ago

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By Such A Little Taste

Sylus x fem!Reader

This got so far away from me ngl One minute you're staring at Sylus's hands while he plays the claw machine, the next you're writing 4k words about those hands

Title from "Hooked (Addicted You Might Say)" by Eleisha Eagle

NSFW, smut below the cut

Warnings: smut, fingering, cunnilingus, cumming untouched, hand/finger kink, marking, biting, kissing, teasing, dacryphilia/crying, swearing, praise kink, choking, breathplay, pet names, nipple play, embarrassment, shyness

Word Count: 4,085 (Y'ALL 😭)

Main Masterlist

Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

“Which one do you want me to get?”

You look through the glass of the arcade machine. The attendees always make sure to keep it clean from any kids leaving sticky fingerprints on it, so every plushie is on full display. A red fox with a little wintery cape, a hermit crab with an ice cream cone on its back, and a cockatiel with bright red cheeks. You just love looking at them all.

“Do you think you can get the Cone Crab?” You point to it through the glass, without touching of course. “I don’t think I have it yet.”

Sylus smiles down at you. “Whatever you want, sweetie.”

He inserts the token smoothly, pressing it into the slot with his thumb. You cozy up to his side like you always do, holding his elbow while trying not to restrict his movements. His hand rests lazily on the joystick, fingers relaxed as he adjusts the claw. His fingers occasionally tap thoughtfully against the red top, trying to decide the best plan of attack to get the plushie you so desperately want.

Though, now that you’re here, the plushie is the last thing on your mind.

You’ve always known that Sylus has nice hands. They’re huge, easily dwarfing yours every time you hold them. Sometimes, you even hold onto just a few of his fingers or his pinky, just so your hand doesn’t get too tired. He loves it, too. He loves when you’re curled up into him, playing with his hand, comparing the sizes.

Tonight, though, those thoughts go a little bit further. You think about the way it effortlessly curled around your neck in the photobooth earlier tonight. How his fingers traced along your back when the crowd at the mall got a little too dense for your liking. The way they showed no mercy to Wanderers, yet tenderly bandaged your wounds.

You’re shaken out of your thoughts when his elbow gently nudges you. “What’s on your mind, kitten?”

Your cheeks burn red hot, as if he could possibly ever know what you were just thinking about. You scoff. “Nothing.”

“Oh? Is that so?” He leans down to whisper by your ear. You can hear the satisfied smirk in his voice as he says, “Then, why aren’t you claiming the prize?”

Claiming the- Oh. You jolt away from him, blush creeping up to your ears as you reach down and push open the flap to grab the Cone Crab. You hug it to your chest and determinedly avoid meeting his eyes. You nod into the machine again. “Okay, what about a Snowy Fox? The one I have is getting a little lonely.”

He chuckles and wraps his arm around your shoulder to draw you back into his side. “Of course. Try to pay attention this time, sweetie,” he purrs the pet name.

You can feel his muscles shift as he wraps his arm around your shoulders to hold the joystick once more. It’s hardly an issue with how tall he is, but you can tell he’s drawing you in closer than necessary… That being said, you don’t move. No, you just bite the inside of your cheek and stare down the claw like you have a vendetta against it.

It shifts along the top, honing in on a Snowy Fox plushie that sits off to the side. Thankfully, it’s not right up against the wall, or else he wouldn’t even have a chance of getting one without using his Evol. He hums, the sound deep and resonating within his chest right by your head, as he presses the button. The claw descends, loosely “grabs” at the fox’s head, and drops nothing but air into the chute.

Unfortunately, the proximity draws your eyes right back to his hand.

You really try not to keep staring. Really, you try. But it’s a useless attempt at best and woefully futile at worst when he chuckles, staring down at you with that knowing glimmer in his eye after he catches you staring at the prominent veins that run through his hand.

He shifts his hand back so his fingers curl sinfully around the red top as he pushes it forward to hover back over the Snowy Fox he missed just seconds ago. Your breath hitches in your throat as his lips graze the curve of your ear. “I see where your mind is tonight,” he muses.

You exhale sharply through your nose. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Instead of responding, he lifts his hand off the top of the joystick until just his fingers, long and practiced, trail along the front as he shifts the crane back a touch. His thumb, coming around the side, shifts it to the left.

“Remember to breathe.”

You jab your elbow into his ribs. He chuckles, standing up straight as he presses the button. The claw comes right down over the fox and finally gets a good grasp on the plushie. You watch it get carried through the air and to the chute. He releases you so you can retrieve it, clutching it to your chest with the crab.

“Would you like a turn now, sweetie?”

You narrow your eyes up at him. He’s planning something, you just know it. But it couldn’t be worse than watching his hands at work. You shove the plushies into his chest. He takes them and steps back. You definitely do not notice, at all, how both plushies fit in just one of his hands.

He slips another token into the slot, arm brushing against yours teasingly. You don’t react. The bear has been poked plenty, you don’t need to rile him up any further.

Eyes on the prize, the Golden Throat, you move the claw so it hovers just over the bird. Mephisto would surely love to play with it. (Even if playing with it meant ripping it to shreds.) The thought eases the tension in your shoulders. With a few minor adjustments, you press the button. And… nothing. The cockatiel falls over onto its side, staring forlornly up at you.

“Would you like some help, sweetie? Remember, you’ve only got one shot left.” He brings his hand around, golden token shining in the dancing lights of the machine as he slips it between his fingers. He holds it up with his thumb, pressing the coin face into the side of his index finger. It’s so small in his hands.

“No, I can do it.” You take the coin from him and jam it into the slot. Your face is scrunched up with concentration as you realign the crane.

You take a little longer than usual to line it up. A warm hand covers yours, engulfing it as his fingers curl overtop yours. “You’re so close, kitten,” he muses. The double entendre isn’t lost on you. “Just a little…” His index slides between two of your fingers, pushing them aside until it nestles at the crook. You feel your face burning again. “There.”

You push the button, too dazed to even check his work. His breath fans across the back of your neck. If the arcade was crowded today, you’re sure you would have been kicked out by now. The winning jingle sounds with a flash of lights.

“Good girl.”

And that’s what breaks you.

You practically push him away so you can grab the toy, not even taking the chance to cradle or admire it like usual. You shove it into his arm while he laughs, taking his free hand to drag him out of the mall as fast as possible.

He’s even worse in the car ride home. One of his hands is on the steering wheel, calmly turning it with just the flat of his hand around corners, or running his thumb in circles over the hardened leather all too knowingly. His other is on your thigh, between your legs, almost but not quite where you need him right now. It takes all your willpower not to guide him there yourself in the middle of traffic.

Once you’ve passed the border into the N109 Zone and he’s recklessly speeding up now that there are no laws to stop him, he squeezes the fat of your thigh. “You’re being so patient, kitten. Just a little further.”

Your sigh comes out shaky and impatient. “You’re still an asshole.”

Sylus just smirks.

You thank your lucky stars that Luke and Kieran are nowhere to be seen when you get to the mansion. The plushies all haphazardly lay on their sides in the back seat. You can’t think to feel bad for them, can’t think about anything else but the need pulsing between your legs, as you grab his hand and drag him inside.

Once you’re past the threshold, he’s lifting you up in one arm, cradling you to his chest. You squeal at the sudden shift in perspective, before wrapping your arms around his shoulders and burying your face in his neck. His other hand holds your thigh, fingertips digging lightly into the plump flesh, thumb stroking just under the hem of your dress. You kiss behind his ear, along his jaw, bite at his pulse. He nips at the helix of your ear playfully.

As soon as you’re in his room, you’re being laid out on the bed, his hand cradling your neck so you don’t land too harshly. His knees cage your hips as he supports himself over you with one hand. Warm lips slot over yours. His free hand slides under your dress, slowly working it up your body. His touch feels heavenly, igniting every nerve that was already burning on the way here.

The kiss is languid, remaining so no matter how much you try to deepen it. His wicked grin taunts you. “What happened to all that patience you had earlier?” he teases. You bite his lower lip. He hisses at the sting, moving down to bite just under your jaw. “Behave,” he warns. “I’ll take care of you.”

He sits up to fully remove your dress. You’re a vision that would be coveted by the Romans who would think you a goddess of the highest renown. Your chest rising and falling, already panting with desperate need. Your eyes staring into his, begging for more, more, more. Your hands reaching out to grab the hem of his red sweater. He grabs them, securing both wrists in just one of his hands to pin them above your head. He tsks with a grin.

“Not yet, darling. I need to make sure I fulfill all your fantasies from earlier, first.” Your face heats up. You have to look away, turning your head to hide your embarrassment against your arm.

He releases your hands, his own sliding down and reaching under you to undo the pretty lace bra you’d bought for yourself with his black card. He’d teased you about trying it on for him when you got back, having seen the purchase on his phone. It very quickly became one of his favorites. He drops it off the side of the bed with your dress, but leaves your panties on, even as you buck up against his hips.

“Patience, remember?”

You groan pathetically. “Please, Sy,” you beg. “Just touch me, please.”

“I was already planning on it, sweetie.”

He leans down over your body again, keeping himself up by his knees as he trails open mouth kisses along your neck. His hands mirror each other, running down the sides of your ribcage, down to your stomach and back, until they reach your breasts. His mouth seeks out your nipple, sucking, licking, savoring the soft flesh against his tongue. You gasp when his teeth nip at the hardened bud, back arching to press your chest further against his mouth.

A beautiful coating of saliva shines on your breast when he pulls away. It becomes lubricant for his thumb as he rubs slow, teasing circles along your areola, pushing his spit around like paint on a canvas before it finally brushes over your nipple. His other hand guides your neglected tit into his mouth, squeezing rough enough to leave marks as he takes his sweet time tending to you.

His red sweater rubs against your overheated bare skin. The soft fibers scrape over your stomach, tickling you and making your body flinch away on instinct. His pants are no better, acting as a solid barrier between your aching heat and the bulge pressing against you. You try to cant your hips up again, trying to get the friction you need, but his hand lets go of your breast to hold you firmly against the mattress.

Your nipple is released from his mouth with a wet pop, covered in saliva and red markings. His lips find your pulse, leaving gentler kisses over the artery. “I wonder what you were thinking about,” he muses, voice rough with lust. He can feel your heart racing against his lips. He’s tempted to bite down like the vampire from his story, but he settles for sucking a mark into the unmarred skin instead. It sends shivers down your spine and goosebumps up your arms, still staying obediently above your head. “Watching my hands… What did you picture, sweetheart?”

The thoughts come rushing in all at once. The beautifully prominent veins on his hand. The way his fingers curled around the joystick. The sinful way he teased your fingers apart while helping you…

The whimper comes utterly unbidden when his fingers trail from your hip to dance across the top of your panties. “Talk to me,” he encourages in a low purr. His fingers curl under the elastic band, slowly teasing one side off of your hip. “What were you thinking of?”

Your face is burning red hot with embarrassment and desire. You always struggle with speaking like this, when he asks you something so simple but so sinful. But you know that he’ll reward you so nicely if you speak up. It’s a dangerous motivator sometimes. “A-At the photobooth, when you wrapped your hand around my neck,” you stutter out.

His eyebrow quirks up with a smirk to match. “Do you like having my hand around your throat, sweetheart?” He lifts his head from your neck, watching as his hand trails from your panties, along your body, over your collarbones to your neck. The way your body twitches with every light brush is addicting. “Do you like knowing…” His palm rests over your trachea, fingers curling around the sides of your neck. “... just how easy it would be for me to… choke you?” He squeezes his fingers lightly for emphasis. He feels when you swallow, throat bobbing against his palm.

You nod slightly, biting your lip to fight back the noises he so easily draws from you. Even still, small whimpers emanate from your throat.

His index finger shifts up to rest along your jaw. He turns your head to the side slightly, taking notice of how your eyes flutter shut under his control.

“Oh, does this kitten like to be controlled? Should I get her a lovely little collar?”

The thought alone draws a mewling whine from deep within you. He chuckles, tilting your head back in place with his thumb as he leans down to capture your mouth. He pulls your lip from your teeth, sucking on it until it's beautifully swollen before he kisses you properly. His tongue delves into you, licking into your pliant mouth with deceptive sweetness as he tightens his hold again. He growls when he hears the hitch in your breath.

“Good girl,” he whispers, releasing the pressure and rubbing his fingers soothingly along the sides of your neck. “What else were you thinking of, hm?”

His red eyes bore into you so calmly, so naturally. It’s hard to keep looking at him, especially as you fight to answer his question. “How big they are,” you admit.

He smiles. It’s such an innocent remark. He knows how big they are compared to yours, how much you love laying your hand over his just to remind yourself. He leaves his hand on your throat, raising the other one to brush his knuckles along your arm as he seeks out your hand. You curl your fingers between his almost instantly, holding onto him like a lifeline. He turns them over to bring your hand to his lips, kissing the knuckles tenderly. “What else?”

You whine, closing your eyes to hide from his stare. “Please don’t make me say it,” you beg.

“Why not?” You don’t answer his question. “Hmm. Shall I guess, then?”

He disentangles from your hand after one last kiss, bringing it to rest in his hair. You dig your hand into the soft locks immediately, like it’s second nature. He kisses your lips softly. The feeling lingers even as he trails kisses down your body once again. Down your neck, over your sternum, taking one detour to bite at your tits. His hand follows in his wake, massaging and caressing your skin.

He shifts to be kneeling between your legs, resting them over his thighs as he reaches your navel. His hand passes him, however, pulling your panties down your other hip. “Am I warm?” His hot breath fans over your stomach, making you shiver. His lips brush sinfully over the edge of the elastic band. His eyes meet yours again.

You nod. His thumb caresses your jaw, a silent praise for answering him. You lift your hips experimentally, worried he’ll push them down again, but his hand slips under you instead, dragging down the fabric over your ass. As more skin is revealed, his kisses get lower. You tug at his hair, trying to push him closer. “Sy, please…”

He hums, tilting his head to rest his cheek against your hip. “Hm? What is it, sweetheart? Do you feel like telling me what you were thinking of now?”

You halfheartedly glare at him. “You’re such a bastard.”

He chuckles. “I know.”

His hand glides smoothly over your ass, fingers guiding your panties further down your thighs. Before you can be fully uncovered, he leans down between your legs to kiss your cunt through the soaked fabric of your panties. You gasp sharply, opening wider for him. He makes sure you’re watching when he gathers the material in his teeth and drags them down. You hope you never forget that sight.

He sits back to remove the final piece of your attire, slipping off your heels in the process. You wish you could sit up and tear his clothes off of him, throw them to the side with reckless abandon to expose his body to you. That thought is immediately gone the second you feel his fingers finally dragging through your folds. Just like he mimicked at the arcade to your fingers, he parts your lips until he finds your clitorus.

“You’re so beautiful,” he hums, the rough edges to his voice softening. He kisses your thighs as he gathers up your slick on two of his fingers, groaning at how absolutely soaked you are. “So fucking gorgeous.”

He raises his coated fingers to your lips. You suck on them without question, moaning around them as you taste yourself, as you lick up every drop he gathered until all that remains is your saliva. He presses down on your tongue, choking you gently at the same time until you gag. He pulls his fingers out of your mouth, soothing his thumb over your bottom lip. “Good girl. Such a good fucking girl.”

Your scent fills his senses. All he can think about is how good you must taste, how you’d feel clenching around his fingers and tongue as he ravages you, your heady scent consuming his every coherent thought until he’s utterly drunk on your cum.

He can’t wait any longer.

His hands slide down your body to grasp your thighs, spreading them wider, guiding your calves over his shoulders as he dives in like he’s starving on death row and you’re his last meal. He moans as he licks a stripe up your cunt, swallowing everything you can give him and seeking more. His fingers create divots in your skin as they press down, promising bruises as they tug you closer and closer, until your head is barely on the pillows anymore.

You cry out his name through moans and gasps. Both of your hands tangle in his hair, keeping him firmly against you. He nudges his nose against your clit. Your hips jerk to ride his face and he nearly lets you. Any other night, he would have loved to flip you over so you could sit on his face, use him, ride him, until he’s suffocating in all of you. Tonight, though, he pulls his mouth from your weeping hole to suck on your clit.

It’s intense. It’s overwhelming. You’re torn between pushing him away and pulling him closer, begging him mindlessly, though you don’t know what for. One of his hands releases your thigh to take over where he left off. One long finger pushes slowly into you, easily accepted with how fucking wet you are, dripping slick down his hand. It fucks into you, curling to rub at your g-spot with a professional expertise. His second finger slides in just as easily, creating a steady rhythm that draws you closer and closer to your orgasm.

Tears slip down your cheeks, so fucking lost to the intensity of his attention to your clit. You’re so fucking close already. Air gets caught in your throat, forcing its way out through ragged moans. You can’t even get the words out to warn him. That swell of pressure builds in your abdomen too fast. Your cunt clenches harshly around his fingers, trying to draw them in deeper. Sylus’s eyes watch your face in a half-lidded haze, desperate to catch the exact moment you come undone for him.

Your thighs squeeze his head as your orgasm snaps inside you. Your head is thrown back against the pillows, fingers in a death grip in Sylus’s hair as your cum gushes out of you. He eases up on your clit when you tremble, shaking your head without conscious thought as it becomes too much. His fingers gently ease you through the afterwaves, hand drenched in your delicious slick. When your hands and your thighs relax, he pulls away.

You blearily open your eyes to watch him clean his hand with his tongue. It curls around his fingers, slides up his wrist and forearm to ensure he doesn’t lose a single drop; licks his lips as he pants for air. His eyes flicker to your cunt. Your walls clench around nothing. Your clit is swollen and sensitive to all hell. As much as he would love to go back in, clean you up with his tongue alone, he resists.

He gently lowers your legs from his shoulders, massaging your thighs to ease the lingering tension from them as he leans down to kiss you softly, sweetly. All you can taste is yourself on his lips. You comb your fingers through his hair, carefully trying to make up for any pain you may have caused. He sighs into your mouth, completely relaxed with your touch.

It’s you who pulls away first, tilting your chin up to get him to let up. He trails his kisses along your cheek instead. “You still haven’t been taken care of,” you point out.

He chuckles airily. “I assure you, I’ve been well taken care of.” You turn your head so he sees your look of confusion. He sighs as he sits back up. Sure enough, there’s a wet spot on the front of his pants that is definitely not from you. Your face burns as you look up at him.

“I… You came just from eating me out?” you gape in disbelief.

His cheeks are pink, too, despite the way he playfully shakes his head. “Don’t let it inflate your ego too much, sweetheart.”

You watch as he gets off the bed to go to the ensuite bathroom. It’s not hard to tell it’s uncomfortable being in his soiled pants, but he gets a wet cloth to take care of you first. You lay back, grinning like an idiot as he tends to the mess you’ve made. “I’m flattered.”

“Leave it alone, kitten.”

“Or what?”

“Or I’ll spend the rest of the night finding every single way I can make you cum without touching you.”

“...”

“... Promise?”

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021

#fanfic #fanfiction #sylus #sylus x reader #love and deepspace sylus #lads sylus #lnds sylus #love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #lads #lads x reader #lnds #lnds x reader #fem reader #x fem reader #female reader #x female reader #smut

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jjungkookislife · 1 year ago

Text

Home for the Holidays Pt. 2 (M)

pairing: jungkook x f. reader

genre: fake dating au, f2l, christmas au, smut [18+] Put your age in your bio so you don’t get blocked please 💜 this is an 18+ blog

summary: Jungkook is in desperate need to find a girlfriend for Christmas. His mom has nagged and nagged about him bringing someone home for the holidays. Determined, Jungkook recruits his friends in hopes of finding the right girl to take home. In need of a place to stay, and no plans for Christmas, you answer his friend’s ad.

You have 25 days to convince not only his parents but his grandmother that you’re in a real relationship, solid enough to get through Christmas with the Jeons.

wc: 14.3k

warnings: pet names (babe, baby, sweetheart, honey, love, darling, good girl, doll), food/food mention, mention of conning JK's grandmother, mention of a blowup doll, making out, marking (scratching, biting, hickeys), jungkook has a motorcycle but his grandmother forbids him from using it while she's there, mention of jungkook's grandfather's death, one-bed trope, mention of slot machines, mention of a breeding kink, reader is on the pill, mention of being self-conscious (reader), mention of drowning in melting snow due to embarrassment, hair pulling, jungkook is a consent king (and it's hot af, okay?), fingering (f. receiving), handjob (m. receiving), oral sex (f. giving), unprotected sex, spanking, multiple orgasms, creampie

a/n: a HUGE thank you to @btsgotjams27 for allowing me to scream about this JK in her inbox for weeks! and for helping me go over the ending! thank you, thank you, thank you!

read part one here

date: January 12, 2024

The moment you set foot in Jungkook’s family home, it was like stepping foot in a department store the day after Thanksgiving.

Holiday decor sits on every inch of the living room wall—there are snowflakes, snowmen, Santas, and jolly words on every bit you see.

A giant Christmas tree takes up a large portion of the living room in a corner far from the fireplace. Large red bows hung from the branches, and a gold star sat on the top. A candle on the coffee table burns, filling the home with its vanilla cookie scent.

The dining room had an elegant arrangement of candles and ribbons. A glass jar of red and gold ornaments sat in the middle as a centerpiece.

“Jungkook!” Came an elated greeting from the kitchen. An older woman came rushing toward him, her hands cupping his cheeks as she hugged him tightly.

Jungkook grunted when he was pulled to her height, swaying side to side as she hugged him.

“Never leave me,” she nearly sobbed dramatically. You bit back a laugh.

“Mom,” Jungkook wheezed. “You’re scaring my girlfriend. She doesn’t know you’re joking.”

“I’m not joking,” his mom laughs as she squeezes him one last time before releasing him.

“Mom!”

Jungkook’s mom ignored him as she stepped toward you.

“Hello,” you wave meekly. You introduce yourself, and she smiles.

“I’m Aera,” Jungkook’s mom introduces herself as she pulls you into a hug. “It’s so nice to meet you! Jungkook said nothing but good things about you. I swear he’s so in love!”

“Mom!” Jungkook hissed as he ran his hand over his face.

You giggle, linking arms with Aera. “Is that so?”

Jungkook watches as the two of you head toward the kitchen, arm in arm, while he rolls the suitcases further into the house after shutting the front door.

“Oh, Jungkook,” his mom says as she has you sit at the table. “You’re in Seojun’s old room, and this sweetheart is in yours.”

Jungkook nods as he locks eyes with you, silently asking if you’ll be okay for a few minutes while he takes the luggage upstairs.

“Here,” Aera hands you a small dessert. “Seojun made these just for you. You’ll meet him tomorrow along with his fiancée, Saraí.”

“Ooh, chocolate,” you grin as you take the chocolate and take a bite. You moan from how good it tastes, melting right on your tongue.

Aera claps her hands, turning on her heel as she grabs a few more desserts for you to try.

By the time Jungkook joins you, you’re on your third dessert.

“Mom,” he sighs. “Please don’t force-feed my girlfriend. She just got here.”

Aera frowns at her son. “Fine. You open up.”

Jungkook dodges a brownie bite and sits beside you. His mom heads back to the kitchen to grab drinks as the front door opens and shuts.

“Sorry,” Jungkook apologizes. “I told her to wait at least thirty minutes before she stuffed you full of chocolate and desserts.”

“Hello,” a voice calls. You smile, though nerves still eat at you when you realize Jungkook’s father has arrived home.

“Dad!” Jungkook rises from his seat to hug his dad tightly. Jungkook looks just like him, though a little taller and broader.

You rise from your seat, wiping your hands on your pants in a poor attempt to clean them.

You introduce yourself to Jungkook’s dad, shaking his hand.

“Nice to meet you, honey. I’m Dae.”

“We’re gonna go get settled in,” Jungkook says as he takes your hand. “We’ll be down for dinner.”

“When am I seeing Jimin, Joon, Tae, Jin, and Yoongi?” Aera asks her son. “It’s bad enough that Hoseok won’t join us this year.”

“He had plans, Mom,” Jungkook explained.

“Love, the kids just got home to their parents. Let them take their shoes off before you host a reunion,” Dae chuckles. Aera nods, going for her house phone to ring up Jimin’s mom across the street to chat about their boys.

Jungkook uses the distraction to lead you toward the stairs.

“I’m so sorry,” Jungkook groans as he plops down on the desk chair of his old bedroom. “I thought I had a minute or something before she started feeding you.”

“It’s okay,” you giggle as you wrap your arms around his neck. “Your mom is just excited.”

“I’ll say,” Jungkook grumbles as he wraps his arms around your waist. “Thanks for doing this.”

“No problem! Besides, those brownie bites are delicious!”

Jungkook chuckles. “There’s plenty more downstairs. Lemme show you around.”

Jungkook shows you where the bathroom is. His room is across the hall from yours, while his parents' room is further down the hallway. There’s another stairway upstairs that leads to the entertainment/game room. Downstairs is an office, a guest bathroom, and a laundry room.

The backyard is through the back door in the kitchen, and the door near the living room leads to the garage. It’s all pretty simple to memorize. You’ll mostly be on the second floor unless you have to use the kitchen or living room.

By the time you’re back in the kitchen, Jimin’s sitting at one of the chairs with a plate full of brownies and a glass of milk. He gives you a chocolaty smile as Mrs. Jeon sets a plate of cookies beside him.

“Got enough to share, Jimin?” Jungkook asks as he pulls a chair out for you before he sits beside you.

“No,” Jimin swallows his bite and downs half a glass of milk.

“Jimin,” Aera laughs, and Jimin reluctantly pushes the plate of cookies toward you and Jungkook.

“So,” Dae smiles at you. “How did you and Jungkook meet?”

“School.”

“Jimin.” You say, cringing at Jungkook’s answer being different from yours.

His parents look confused for a moment before Jimin speaks up.

“I met her in one of my classes, and we became friends. Then Jungkook stole her from me,” Jimin jokes.

Jungkook turns red. “I didn’t steal her! You said you were just friends!”

You laugh with his parents. The two men bicker back and forth like children.

“I always had a crush on Jungkook. The moment I saw him, I knew he was special,” you admit. Jungkook pauses his fake fight to look at you; his eyes are soft, and something sparkles deep within.

Even Jimin stares silently. He knew you had a crush on Kook the moment you laid eyes on him, but there was no way you were this great of an actress. After all, he had been the one to go with you to audition for Cinderella, and you tanked. Sorry to say so.

“Oh, isn’t that sweet?! True love!” Aera sings as she clasps her hands.

“Mom!” Jungkook protests, feeling his ears burn from embarrassment. Perhaps he should have prepared you for his over-enthusiastic parents.

“I hear wedding bells!” Aera continues until Dae grabs her and leads her out of the room.

“Come on, let’s go get their pajamas.”

The three of you wait until you hear their footsteps disappear up the stairs.

Jimin exhales dramatically. “You couldn’t even get the first lie correct?”

“We tried!” Jungkook hisses in response.

“Yeah,” you nod vehemently. “We got it right anyhow. We just fumbled a bit. No biggie.”

“The group chat isn’t gonna like this,” Jimin sighs. “Are you sure you can pull this off without us here?”

“It was just a little mishap,” Jungkook waved his hand. “We’ve got this.”

Jimin looks unsure but says nothing else as he gulps his milk down and rises from his seat.

“Okay, I better get back to my family. I only snuck out for treats.”

You laugh as you hug him after he’s set his glass in the dishwasher.

“Come around whenever,” Jimin instructs, kissing your forehead before waving to Jungkook.

“What’s up next?” You ask your boyfriend.

“Probably Christmas pajamas and a movie, then dinner and bedtime,” Jungkook replies as his parents' footsteps come down the stairs.

“Here they come.”

The evening flies by after you receive your pajamas. You thank the Jeons profusely as you put them on.

The couple has gone to bed, leaving you and Jungkook to finish the last two minutes of the movie.

Jungkook begins to clean up as soon as the credits roll before the two of you head up the stairs.

Hushed voices greet you as you reach the landing.

“I don’t know, Dae. Something seems fishy,” Aera said softly.

“You’re overthinking this, love. Maybe they’re just respectful or shy.” Dae countered.

“Well, Saraí and Seojun were always kissing and hugging. It just seems a little off.” Aera states.

Jungkook looks at you, worry evident on his face.

“Maybe they’re not as comfortable with PDA. That’s fine by me,” Dae chuckles as he tells his wife to go to bed.

Aera does so reluctantly.

Jungkook takes your hand and leads you to the bedroom you are occupying for your stay. He shuts the door as quietly as possible before he sits on the bed and pats the spot beside him.

Once you’re on the bed sitting beside him, he wrings his hands in his lap.

“I suppose we need to be more hands-on,” he states nervously.

“How about we wake up early tomorrow and watch a movie in the living room? We can cuddle and kiss a little when we hear them get up,” you suggest.

Jungkook nods in agreement.

“Do you need anything before I go?”

You walk Jungkook to the bedroom door. You bite your bottom lip, suddenly feeling shy. He is your fake boyfriend, though.

“A goodnight kiss?”

Jungkook’s cheeks warm at your words, but he gently grips your chin with his fingers before he presses his lips to yours. Your hands grip his shirt, holding him close as the kiss deepens and your lips muffle his moans.

“Good night,” Jungkook whispers with one last kiss to your lips.

“Good night,” you whisper as you watch him go. Your heart flutters as you shut the door and press your back against it. You squeal in delight and faintly hear Jungkook chuckle as he heads to his room.

You ignore the heat that rises to your cheeks before scrambling to get into bed.

The next morning, Jungkook shakes you awake gently. “Come on, darling.”

“Mmh,” you whine, swatting at him in your sleep.

Jungkook dodges the next swipe, capturing your hand and kissing your palm.

“Baby,” he whispers as he shakes you again. You curse, peering open one eye and then the other.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” you grumble as you sit up. Jungkook grins smugly. “Or I’d bop you on that cute nose of yours.”

Jungkook laughs, shaking his head. “Come on, babe. My parents will be up soon.”

“I’m sleepy,” you huff but get out of bed and follow Jungkook downstairs. He’s already got a movie playing in the background and two mugs of hot chocolate sitting on the coffee table.

You try not to squeal in excitement when you see he’s poured yours into a snowman mug.

By the time Jungkook’s parents make their way downstairs, the both of you are cuddling on the couch. Jungkook’s got your head on his shoulder, feeding you pretzels and holding your hand.

Aera and Dae exchange a look but say nothing other than their morning greetings as they get ready for work.

Dae is out in ten minutes, promising to be home early, while Aera stops by the living room to kiss each of you on the top of your head on her way out.

“Seojun and Saraí will be here for dinner,” she calls as she grabs her keys and heads out the door.

You spend the day with Jungkook watching movies and playing video games upstairs. Jimin and Joon pop in for a quick visit, but their parents call them home for lunch and they leave you alone with Jungkook again.

“I think we’re doing pretty well,” you muse as you hold Jungkook’s hand while he waits for the game to load on the TV screen.

He chuckles. “Seojun might mess it up.”

You giggle, shaking your head.

“I think we’ve got this,” you state as you kiss his cheek, his jaw, and the mole beneath his lip. Jungkook sighs happily, dropping the controller on the carpet before he cups your face.

Fake or not, he genuinely enjoyed kissing you. He wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to do so now.

You moan when he pushes you back onto the couch, your legs on either side of his hips. His lips feel soft against yours as your hands slide under his shirt.

“Kook,” you moan softly as you move your head to allow him more room, his lips burning in their wake as he trails kisses down to the collar of your shirt.

Your fingers weave through his long black hair, tugging when his lips nip at your skin. He moans your name softly, groaning when you beg him for more.

His hand grips your hip, squeezing as his hips rock against you. A curse escapes you as you melt beneath his broad shoulders, your nails dragging down his back.

“Fuck, baby.” He groans, his lips finding yours as his tongue pushes past the seam of your lips as the kiss deepens. You whine as you feel him press against you, your hands greedy as you pull him impossibly close.

“Shit!” A voice startles you.

You pull away from Jungkook, face warm as Jungkook gets off you.

“Sorry, we should have knocked.” A woman apologizes. She’s shorter than Jungkook and the man beside her. Her hair is curly and black, falling in waves down her back. Her beautiful golden skin appears glowing and rivals the brightness of her smile.

“We did knock,” the man says, looking at her. She jutted him in the ribs with her elbow before turning to Jungkook.

“We’ll be downstairs,” she announced in a rush as she shoved the man out the door before shutting it.

Jungkook groans, hiding his cherry-red face in his hands. “That was Seojun and Saraí.”

“Oh!” You exclaim with wide eyes. “Fuck.”

“Well,” Jungkook said, carding a hand through his hair. “At least Seojun will believe us now.”

You laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. You wrap your arms around his waist and kiss the corner of his mouth.

“To be continued?” You’re not sure where this bout of confidence has come from, but you know what you felt, and Jungkook wanted you just like you did him.

“Tonight?” He asks in a sultry tone that makes you tighten around nothing. His dark-hooded gaze makes your pulse rise, and it takes everything in you not to push him onto the couch and continue where you left off.

Jungkook holds your gaze, his tattooed hand resting on your lower back, a little too close to your behind. You bite your bottom lip, and his eyes watch you carefully as you slowly take a step back. Fire builds between you, nearly suffocating you, and you’d gladly let it for another taste of his lips.

“Tonight,” you whisper as you head for the door. You swallow thickly as you eye him up and down, a hunger pooling deep inside you.

Jungkook presses his thumb to his bottom lip as he devours you with his gaze, knowing one more lingering look will be all it takes to have you screaming his name as loud as your lungs allow.

Ten minutes later, Jungkook and you join Seojun and Saraí in the living room. Jungkook introduced you to the couple as he sat beside you on the loveseat.

“It’s so nice to meet you!” Sarai exclaims. “Seojun thought you were imaginary.”

“Babe,” Seojun protests.

“¿Que no?” Sarai asks him with a raised brow. “Didn’t you say Kook probably had a blowup doll?”

Jungkook and Seojun burn brighter than Rudolph’s nose as they sink into the couches. You laugh along with Sarai at the men’s expense.

“I like you,” you said with a bright smile. “We’re gonna get along just fine.”

Sarai smiled, “We have to stick together.”

“Saraí,” Seojun whines. “We just got here. You can’t recruit my little brother’s girlfriend against me already.”

“Why not?” Saraí asks with a mischievous grin.

Seojun groans as he shakes his head, but his smile never dims as he looks at his fiancée. You cuddle up to Jungkook, and his arm drapes around you before he kisses the top of your head, almost second nature.

A few hours later, Saraí and you share the couch upstairs while the Jeon brothers fight over the working controller.

Saraí follows you on all your socials as she lies beside you. The both of you laugh as you show each other funny TikToks. Despite only knowing her a short amount of time, you’re glad she’s easygoing and loves to talk. It takes the pressure off you having to recall any information from Joon’s PowerPoint and flashcards, though the information is ready to be pulled at any moment should you need it.

“So then he takes me to the very top of the building,” Saraí gushes as she shows you a photo on her Instagram account. “You know, the ones with the glass panes you can stand on to overlook the city? Well, I was busy looking at the city while Seojun was turning green behind me! He’s terrified of heights, but he knew I wanted to go up there since forever, practically!”

“I almost threw up,” Seojun comments as he gives the controller to Jungkook, he’s no longer interested in fighting his younger sibling over the controller that doesn’t stick.

Saraí laughs. “I turned around to tell him to join me. The view was incredible!”

You hang on her every word as she swipes to another photo.

“And that’s when I noticed the mariachis and Seojun down on one knee. He even had my family there!” Saraí wipes a stray tear as she recounts her proposal and shows you more photos of the grand event.

Seojun smiles at Saraí, hearts in his eyes. He turns to Jungkook with a raised brow. “It’ll be you two before you know it.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Jungkook coughs as he looks at you for help. His eyes have tripled in size from panic.

“Yeah,” you nod, feeling like a bobblehead. “We’ve only been together for a bit.”

“Four months?” Seojun asks.

“Five!” You and Jungkook answer in unison, startling the happy couple.

You clear your throat. “Almost six.”

“Nowhere near you guys time together,” Jungkook adds as he nervously tweaks the buttons on the controller.

Saraí waves her hand. “You’ll hear wedding bells before you know it.”

“Yeah,” Seojun chuckles. “Ours.”

The two giggled before you and Jungkook exchanged nervous looks.

How far would you take this?

Dinner passes without incident. Aera and Saraí are elbow-deep in wedding plans, scheduling lunch with Saraí’s mom before the evening ends.

You excuse yourself when your friends show up, and the lot of you head upstairs with a plate of warm cookies accompanied by a tray filled with glasses of milk and mugs of hot chocolate.

Seokjin is on the lookout, watching the door as Joon gets comfortable beside Jimin and Yoongi.

“How’s it going?” Taehyung asks as he takes Jungkook’s phone to upload a few more pictures to Instagram.

“Yeah,” Joon says through a mouthful of cookies. “Jimin says you fucked up the first question Momma Jeon asked.”

“Jimin,” Jungkook hisses.

“The first one?” Seokjin scoffs as he looks over his shoulder at you. “Babe, I would have done better.”

“I’m the one who needed to date someone!” Jungkook hisses louder.

Seokjin shrugs. “I said what I said.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes at his friends and calms down when you grip his arm.

“His parents thought we weren’t all over each other like Saraí and Seojun. We have to kick it up a little for them,” you state, your lip caught between your teeth.

“Damn,” Yoongi sighs. “If they see through it, your grandmother won’t fall for it, Kook.”

“Don’t give up now,” Jimin insists while holding a rough sketch. “We’ve worked so hard for this. I already started designing my room in Kook’s new place.”

“Give me that,” Jungkook rips the paper from Jimin’s hands and crumples it.

“I have copies,” Jimin smirks.

“Look,” Taehyung speaks up. “We’ve all done our part. We just gotta get through it.”

Namjoon nods. “Tae’s right. We all did what we said we’d do, even Hobi. He’ll be in town before the new year, and we can’t tell him the plan tanked. We all worked too hard for this. Let’s see it out.”

“I’m in,” Seokjin shrugs, feigning nonchalance by looking at his nails.

“Same,” Yoongi and Jimin add with a firm nod.

Joon and Tae look at the two of you.

Jungkook looks at you, and you nod. You were already knee-deep in it; might as well make it to the other side.

“Alright, we’re in,” Jungkook states ruefully.

“Don’t worry, one of us will try to be around when Grandmother Jeon arrives. It’ll be a piece of cake!” Jimin grins.

It was not a piece of cake.

And if it was, it was a shit cake.

Grandmother Jeon rolled up with enough suitcases to rival a traveling circus.

“Mother,” Dae gasps as he greets her at the front door. “What’s all this?”

“Oh, you wouldn’t believe the day I’ve had!” Jungkook’s grandmother huffs as Dae and Jungkook help bring in the suitcases.

Aera dashes to the kitchen for refreshments, and you hurry after her in a panic.

“First, I misplaced my bingo winnings on the train. Then, they threatened to kick me off because Luna wouldn’t stop barking!” Grandmother Jeon looks at all her bags until Jungkook holds one away from him while he pinches his nose.

“Oh, there she is! Kook be a dear and take her outside. Rinse her dog carrier for me. These old bones aren’t what they used to be,” she says as Dae helps her to the couch and then shuts the front door.

“Mother,” Dae said as he sat beside her. “Why didn’t you call?”

“Oh, I didn’t want to be a bother!” She waves her hand about. Her glasses slip down her nose, and her hat is tilted.

“You’re never a bother, Mom,” Dae states as he helps her out of her shoes and faux fur coat.

“Good,” Grandmother Jeon states firmly. “Because Luna and I need a place to stay for the holidays.”

Jungkook freezes with Luna, a yapping black and white chihuahua in his arms. “What?”

Dae sends a glare at his son. “Of course, you can stay with us. What happened?”

“Dang cellphone made my reservations for next Christmas,” Grandmother Jeon huffed. “Dang things are called smartphones, more like dumb phones. Scheduled me for the wrong year!”

Dae exchanges a look with Jungkook, but neither says a word as you and Aera walk into the living room with coffee and cookies.

“Oh, Aera! You look lovely! Keeping my boys in line?” Grandmother Jeon asks with a smile.

“Always! We're so glad you’re staying with us,” Aera says genuinely, hugging the older woman.

“Ooh, you know me. I gotta spread a little holiday cheer everywhere I go,” Grandmother Jeon jokes before she spots you.

“And who is this marvelous woman hiding behind you, Aera?”

Jungkook opens the back door, puts Luna out, and rushes to your side before you can blink.

“Grandmother Jeon, this is my girlfriend,” Jungkook tells her your name, and her eyes light up like the fairy lights on the Christmas tree.

“I’m Grandmother Jeon or Minji, whichever you prefer, dear. Let me look at you,” she coos as she takes your hands and looks you up and down.

“You’re beautiful,” Minji grins widely.

“Thank you,” you smile shyly.

“And you know how to take a compliment. I like that! Confidence and a tough exterior are what you need to wrangle in these boys. They’ll give you more heart attacks than you can handle. Troublesome they are,” Minji shakes her head.

“Mom!”

“Grandmother!”

“What?” Minji raises a brow, daring them to protest further. “Am I lying?”

“No,” Jungkook and his father shake their heads, avoiding eye contact.

“Thought so,” Minji laughs. “Don’t worry, dear. Jungkook is the least troublesome of them all, though that motorcycle I saw on the driveway is enough to earn a lecture, Jeon Jungkook!”

“But-!”

“Jeon Dae, what did I tell you about my grandbabies riding those!” Minji sighs heavily as she lets you go.

“Mother,” Dae starts as Minji rises from the couch. “He’s old enough to make his own decisions.”

Minji whirls on Jungkook, a sharp, well-manicured nail poking his broad chest. “You stick to driving while I’m here, sweetie. I don’t think my old heart could take it seeing you riding around town on that motorcycle.”

“I promise,” Jungkook raises his hand, and Minji grins, reaching to pinch his cheek.

“Good boy,” she states before releasing him. “Now who’s gonna show this old bag of bones and her pup to her room?”

“Mother, you’re only-” Dae is cut off by a glare so icy it could freeze Hell and all its inhabitants.

“Get my dog, son. She gets cold without her winter wear,” Minji grumbles as she heads towards the stairs. “She’s your little sister, after all. You should treat her as such.”

“Mother,” Dae sighs heavily, but he knows it’s a losing battle. He opens the back door instead, and Luna walks into the home after wiping her feet on the mat.

“Jungkook, sweetie, be a doll and get her wipes from the pink bag for me. I have to get her cleaned up before dinner,” Minji says as Dae hands her the little chihuahua.

“She’s not going to expect Luna to have a seat at the table, is she?” You ask Jungkook’s mom as you watch Dae and Jungkook carry her bags up the stairs.

Aera says your name with a whimsical smile. “Expect the unexpected.”

Jungkook knows you’re trying your best not to stare, but you fail miserably.

Dinner is in the dining room with the large dining table that seats twelve, but there are only eight of you tonight.

Dae sits at the head of the table with his wife on the left and his mother on the right. Beside Aera, Jungkook has taken his spot while you sit beside him. However, you can’t help but look at Luna in her high chair across from him.

Seojun sits across from you with Saraí on his right. She smiles politely as she tries to muffle a laugh in her napkin. She was as surprised as you the first time Minji rolled into town with her dog and the high chair.

You’re sure Luna is eating out of a crystal bowl and drinking from a crystal goblet. The only thing that sparkles more than both is the ring sitting on Saraí’s finger.

“So, sweetheart,” Minji starts as she dabs at her mouth. “How did you meet our Kookie?”

“Mother,” Dae shoots an annoyed look her way that she waves off with a perfectly manicured hand.

“I’m merely curious,” Minji smiles softly, her pearls draped over her bubblegum pink dress. There’s not a silver hair out of place, nor is her lipstick smudged from eating and enjoying a glass of wine with dinner.

“We met through Jimin,” Jungkook answers for you, but Minji continues to stare at you, awaiting a response.

“We met through Jimin at school. Jimin and I shared a class and introduced me to Jungkook and his friends. I had a crush on him since the first time I saw him,” you can feel the heat rise in your cheeks as Jungkook takes your hand in his, kissing your knuckles before setting it on the table.

“So, who broke first?” Seojun asks with interest, ignoring his “aunt” as she chews on her steak.

“Jungkook,” you giggle as you recite the story Yoongi had concocted. “We went on a walk after dinner one night and he confessed. Asked me out for the next night, and we’ve been dating ever since.”

“We went to the beach for our first date,” Jungkook adds. “Shared a milkshake on the boardwalk.”

“My Kookie finally found someone!” Minji claps her hands, startling the dog beside her.

“Do you have pictures?” Aera questions as she rises from the table.

Luna finishes her meal, and Dae takes her outside while Jungkook and Seojun clear the table. You send Jungkook a wary look, but he smiles in reassurance, mouthing, “You’ve got this.”

“Let’s head to the living room for tea and hot chocolate,” Aera said as she dashed to the kitchen to grab drinks and desserts.

Saraí goes to help her while you help Minji to the couch.

“I don’t know how to snoop on the phone like Seojun loves to do,” Minji laughs as you take your phone out of your pocket.

“Ah, there’s my boy,” Minji says as she adjusts her glasses to look at your Lock Screen. A photo of you and Jungkook in matching Christmas sweaters greets her.

“He looks at you the way his grandfather looked at me before he passed. Love is a magical thing, dear. It can get you through almost anything,” Minji says, full of wonder as she stares off into the distance for a moment before she clears her throat.

Your heart sinks in your chest. Jungkook hadn’t mentioned his grandfather before and seeing Minji now and going through with this plan was making you feel sick.

“I hope we didn’t miss anything,” Saraí sings as she sets down a tray of hot drinks. She hands one to Minji before she takes one for herself.

Aera and Dae join you, while Luna curls up under the Christmas tree on the tree skirt beside the presents.

“I hope we did,” Jungkook utters, only to be elbowed by his older brother.

“I saw a few photos on Instagram this week,” Seojun comments as he grabs a cookie. “You both look cute.”

Saraí helps Aera log into her account so she can see the photos on Instagram while you show Minji the pictures on your phone.

“The two of you are adorable,” Minji coos as you show her another photo. Jungkook watches on from beside his father, the two sharing the couch closest to the fireplace.

For a moment, Jungkook can pretend that it’s real. That you fit into his family perfectly, just like Saraí does. That they adore you just like he does and that you could possibly love him.

Thirty minutes later, Minji is yawning and calling for Luna. The two head upstairs slowly, yawning and wishing everyone a good night.

“Oh, dear,” Aera says as she looks at you and Jungkook. “We gave Grandmother Jeon Seojun’s old room.”

You look at Jungkook with wide eyes.

“You don’t mind sharing Jungkook’s old room, do you?” Aera asked as she and Saraí cleared up the drinks and cookies. “It’ll be just like at home.”

“Um… yeah,” you cough as you look at your feet. “Just like home.”

“Perfect,” Dae says as he helps clean up. “Why don’t the two of you unpack in Jungkook’s room, and we’ll see you in the morning?”

“Sure, Dad,” Jungkook takes your hand, saying goodnight to his family before leading you up the stairs.

On the landing, you hear his grandmother and Luna snoring already, and you wonder how they could fall asleep so quickly.

Jungkook leads you into the bedroom and shuts the door, pressing himself against it.

You’re careful not to trip on his suitcase as you open yours to get your pajamas out. You’ve been following Hoseok’s strict clothing schedule and you’ve sent Hoseok photo confirmation every day so far.

“I’m so sorry,” Jungkook whispers as he walks toward you. “I never thought this would happen.”

“What do we do?”

“I’ll sleep upstairs in the game room,” Jungkook answers. His back already hurts from imagining a night on the lumpy couch.

“Your parents will know something’s up,” you hissed in response.

“I’ll sleep on the floor, then,” Jungkook shrugs. “Problem solved.”

“But it’s your room. Your bed.”

“And I got you into this mess,” Jungkook frowns. “It’s only for a few nights, anyway. No biggie.”

You bite your lip but say nothing as you take your pajamas and step out of the bedroom to go to the bathroom. You change and brush your teeth before going to the room once again.

Jungkook goes to the bathroom to brush his teeth and do his skincare routine before returning to the room.

He grabs extra blankets from the closet and a few pillows before he lies down on the floor.

The two of you stare at the ceiling in silence.

“Well, this is awkward,” Jungkook chuckles.

You throw a stuffed animal at him.

“Jungkook!”

“What? You were thinking about it!”

“You didn’t have to say it,” you grumble as you roll on your side to stare at him. You pull the covers over your shoulders, shivering in your oversized tee and pajama shorts. Hoseok dropped the ball with this one outfit, but maybe he didn’t care too much about your sleeping clothes.

“Goodnight, sweet girlfriend of mine,” Jungkook coos, wiggling his toes in those dreaded toe socks.

“Goodnight,” you huff, sticking your tongue out at him.

Wednesday greeted you with Luna’s obnoxious barking.

You groaned as you placed a pillow over your head, hoping to drown out the sound, but alas, it was no use.

“Koo,” you whine, throwing a pillow at him. He grunts in response from his makeshift bed on the floor.

“I hear it too,” he murmurs as he tries to cling to sleep, but it’s useless.

Cursing, Jungkook sits up. He stretches and yawns for a minute before getting to his feet and folding his makeshift bed of blankets and pillows. His back and neck would be hating him all day.

With all the excitement of Grandmother Jeon and your new sleeping arrangements, there wasn’t any time for any practice.

Now you have bedhead and morning breath, and god, you hope you don’t have dried drool on the corner of your mouth. You can’t let Jungkook see you like this!

“Close your eyes!” You hiss as you scramble out of his bed.

Jungkook's eyes widen in alarm. “What?! Why?!”

“Just do it! Don’t look at me!” You hiss as you hear the barking move further away. You try to step over your fake boyfriend but trip on a blanket and fall beside him.

Jungkook grunts when you elbow him in the stomach, and before either of you can move, the door opens, and Jungkook’s mother stands there with wide eyes.

“Um, breakfast will be ready in a bit,” she says as she shuts the door as quickly as possible. Perhaps next time she’ll remember to knock, but after the commotion, she was worried someone was hurt.

“Great,” Jungkook sighs as he falls back into his pillows to stare at the ceiling.

What a great way to start his morning.

Jungkook’s parents and grandmother are gone for the rest of the day. Something about slot machines and Grandmother Jeon feeling lucky… or did she say she was gonna get lucky?

“Luna Patrice Jeon,” you huff, stomping your foot as you try to get her coat on her, but she wriggles in Jungkook’s beefy arms.

The two of you were supposed to be outside five minutes ago, and all your friends and their dogs were waiting for you and Jungkook.

Jungkook had managed to put Luna’s booties on, but she was a squirmy little thing when it came to her coat and earmuffs. Minji had been very thorough with her instructions, and Jungkook promised to watch his aunt.

His dog-aunt.

“Hi, pretty girl,” Seokjin coos as he lets himself into the Jeon home.

Luna pants as Seokjin rubs between her ears and easily gets the coat on her. About four inches of snow had fallen overnight, and the dogs were eager to play at the park just down the road.

“There we go, Luna. That wasn’t so bad, huh?” Seokjin grins as he kisses the dog on the forehead and puts the earmuffs on.

“God, he’s a dog whisperer,” Jungkook rolls his eyes, but Seokjin ignores him as he sets Luna in the stroller with her blanket and some treats. He zips the stroller shut and carries it out onto the sidewalk.

“I can’t help it if the ladies love me,” Seokjin smirks as he sends a wink your way. You smile bashfully, giggling when he blows you a kiss.

“Hey!” Jungkook stomps his foot. His cute bunny nose scrunching. “You’re my girlfriend!”

“Better keep her close, JK!” Jimin teases as he pushes his dog stroller.

Namjoon and his little dog wear matching coats and booties, leading the group down the road. Taehyung pushes his stroller, where his Pomeranian sleeps wrapped in a fluffy blanket, and Seokjin carries Hoseok’s dog that he may have snatched for this outing.

“Who knew we’d end up pushing strollers this Christmas break instead of clubbing,” Yoongi chuckles as he meets up with you at the end of the block. In his stroller with the spinning rims sits his dog, Holly.

“Almost seems like we’re growing up,” Taehyung wipes a fake tear from his cheek as the group pushes the strollers on the sidewalk.

“Who do you think will push one of these with an actual child first?” Namjoon asks as his dog sniffs the snow, his nose freezing at the contact.

“Jungkook,” the group answers as Jimin and Taehyung push their strollers in a light jog, racing to the first tree they see a few feet away.

“Pfft, why me? I’m the baby,” Jungkook protests.

“Aren’t you the one with the breeding kink?” Yoongi smirks as he walks past the two of you.

Jungkook is left flabbergasted. His face rivals a tomato’s as he feels his ears burn just as bright.

“I told you that in confidence!”

“Whoops!” Yoongi cackles as he joins the race between Tae and Jimin.

Jungkook wonders if four inches of melting snow would be enough to drown him.

You push the stroller with Luna, giggling as you jog past Jungkook.

“Sucks for you!” You call over your shoulder. “I’m on the pill!”

Jungkook curses Yoongi, running after him as he threatens to end the Min line with him.

Namjoon smiles as he walks beside Seokjin, enjoying the chaos he created from his question.

“You’re an evil little man,” Seokjin cackles as Namjoon laughs and follows the group.

Thursday afternoon is filled with last-minute Christmas shopping.

Seojun and Saraí have joined you. Seokjin and Jimin tagged along, but it seemed they weren’t as necessary now as they thought they would be.

Sure, Seokjin still curbed the conversation when you or Jungkook failed to answer a question or two about your relationship, but it wasn’t anything detrimental. The group honestly thought you had this in the bag, and with Christmas only three days away, there wasn’t a whole lot to worry about.

Jungkook rubs his neck for the fifth time. He can’t seem to get rid of the soreness he’s gotten from sleeping on the floor.

You pull him away after you lose Jimin and Seokjin in a department store with blasting Christmas music.

“Sleep with me tonight,” you said as you held Jungkook’s hand in a surprisingly empty aisle. The hustle and bustle of shoppers falls into the background, and all Jungkook can hear is the rapid drumming of his heart.

“W-what?” He stutters with wide eyes. He toys with his lip ring, a nervous habit of his.

“Sleep with me on the bed tonight, Kook. You’re obviously in a lot of pain, and I feel bad.” You frown as you turn him around to rub his neck and shoulders.

Jungkook resists the urge to curse, biting his lip to hide a moan as you get into the muscles. Fuck, he really needed to sleep in a proper bed soon.

“Are you sure?” Jungkook asks as he slowly pulls your hands off him to hold in his.

“It’s only for a few more days,” you shrug. “Grandmother Jeon leaves for her cruise before the new year, so why not?”

Jungkook is reluctant, but as a cramp hits his neck.

He nods. “If you’re sure.”

“Definitely,” you smile as you lace your fingers with his to lead him out of the aisle. You lead him out of the store and toward the giant Christmas tree in the center of the mall.

You take your phone out and snap a cute picture of the two of you before looking at it and see mistletoe on one of the branches above your head.

Jungkook blushes as he pecks your lips, but you pull him back in for another kiss. You fist his jacket in your hand as you pull him close, your lips moving with his perfectly as the cool metal of his lip ring brushes your lips. You moan when he nips at your lip, gently sucking it before releasing it.

His dark gaze sends tingles down your spine as you wrap your arms around his neck, and he leans in to kiss you again.

“Tonight,” Jungkook murmured against your lips, the two of you stuck like magnets, unwilling to pull apart.

“Tonight,” you agree as you kiss him again, your fingers tugging on his lush locks just enough to make him curse against your lips.

“You’ll pay for that, baby,” he groans when you do it again.

“I can’t wait, Koo.”

Your shower takes longer than usual that night. You shave, exfoliate, and lotion every bit of you that Jungkook might touch.

You’re nervous but excited at the thought of him touching you. Just kissing you nearly sends you over the edge sometimes, and the way he grips your hips as if he must be anchored to you to breathe, well, it’s a nice feeling.

By the time you’re climbing into bed, the house is silent. Jungkook turns on his mood lamp, and his playlist plays softly in the background.

He’s made sure to lock the door this time to keep his mother out.

A purple towel is draped over his shoulders as he plops down on the desk chair. He gives his hair one more rub, but he’s already had the hairdryer on it for a bit.

You try not to ogle his bare chest, the colorful sleeve of tattoos grabbing your attention almost

immediately as he sets the towel down.

“Mind if I sleep without a shirt on? I tend to run hot,” he explains as he tongues his ring.

“That’s fine,” you squeak as heat rushes to your cheeks. You pull the covers to your chest, wiggling your toes as you avoid meeting his gaze. Though his abs are now in your view, and your thighs press together in response. What you wouldn’t give to kiss every beautiful ridge of his torso, taking your time on his sensitive brown nipples. You wonder if he’d ever get them pierced.

“Need anything while I’m up, babe?” Jungkook asks as he stretches, his arms raised over his head and you nearly whimper as you feast on his perfect physique.

You’re nearly salivating by the time he’s finished stretching. He tilts his head as he waits for your answer but you blink owlishly and finally meet his gaze.

“Hmm?” You ask as you blink again as he laughs. He shakes his head as he crosses the distance between you, moving the blankets out of the way as he gets into bed with you.

“You’re adorable,” he whispers as he pecks your nose.

You smile, clearing your throat as you lie on the bed. Jungkook turns on his side to face you, and you do the same. His arm drapes over your waist, and you snuggle in closer.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he whispers, almost as if it were a secret. Perhaps it is with the way he strokes your waist, refusing to make eye contact; afraid of what his words will shift.

“I’m glad I’m here too, Kook. I don’t want to be anywhere else,” you admit as his gaze meets yours. He studies you for a few moments. His beautiful eyes sparkle like the stars in the night sky, shining brighter and brighter with each passing second until they flutter shut and his lips mold to yours.

“Jungkook,” his name rolls off your tongue so sweetly.

“Yeah, baby?” He asks in between kisses, his hands never straying from your hips until you guide them upward to cup your tits. He curses, dark eyes piercing through your soul as you make him squeeze them.

“Fuck,” you whimper.

Jungkook kisses you again, swallowing your moans as his thumbs brush your pert nipples. Your hands settle on his broad shoulders, nails digging into his skin as he trails kisses down your neck until he hits that one spot that has you seeing stars behind your lids.

“Jungkook,” you sigh as you part your legs for him. He settles between them as your nails rake down his broad muscular back. You’d love to kiss every inch of it. Leave your mark behind for all to see. For now, you’ll settle for your scratch marks, storing each of his delicious sounds for later.

Fiery lips meet yours as his hips rock against you. His hands feel every bit of you, moving when he notes any hesitation.

“Is this okay?” He asks softly, his gaze locked on yours.

You nod.

“I need words, baby,” he says as he brushes his thumb along your jaw. “I need to hear it.”

“Please,” you swallow thickly, mesmerized by his soft doe eyes. “I want it. Want you.”

Jungkook traces your bottom lip with his thumb, admiring your beauty for a moment before he kisses you again as if it were the last time.

Time means nothing to you as you melt beneath him. His hands are hot against your flesh, needy where they meet to pull you closer. Your name escapes him between moans and gasps, your hand guiding him between your legs.

“Please,” you beg as he pushes your shorts to the side, groaning when he feels how wet you are.

“No panties, darling?” He grins as he kisses your jaw and trails downward.

“Didn’t think I needed them,” you gasp when his fingers brush your clit. He’s teasing you. He wants to see how far he can take you before you beg him for more, plead and whine until he gives you just what you need.

Jungkook licks his lips, shaking his long hair out of his eyes before he tongues his lip ring. His breath fans against your heated skin, teeth gently nipping your earlobe as he whispers, “You were right.”

Your thighs shake at the sound of his seductive tone, spreading further for him as he lifts your shirt to bunch above your breasts.

“Keep that right there, baby. Can you do that for me?” He raises a brow, and you nod.

“Yes.”

“Good girl,” he praises, kissing your lips before making his way down until his fingers are tugging on your flimsy sleep shorts.

“Can I take these off?” Jungkook asks as he meets your eyes. You nod, feeling fire pool deep in your belly. You want him desperately, almost embarrassingly, with how soaked you are for him already.

When he doesn’t make a move to take them off, you remember he wants you to be vocal about your consent.

“Yes, please.”

Jungkook pulls the shorts down your legs at a snail’s pace, giving you enough time to change your mind if you wish to. You encourage him by lifting your hips and kicking the shorts off to be lost on his bedroom floor.

You don’t get a chance to be self-conscious as he cups your face and kisses you so deeply, that you almost wonder if he’s in love with you.

The pounding of your heart is deafening as the kiss deepens and his hips press against your cunt. Your name rolls off his tongue, cursing and groaning when his hard cock grinds against you.

“You’ve soaked my sweatpants,” he laughs breathily, and you clench around nothing. Your face feels like it’s burning, but from lust or embarrassment, you’re not sure. Jungkook kisses your cheeks, your nose, and finally your lips.

“S-sorry,” you apologized as he rubs your clit, his nimble fingers circling it just to make you whine. Jungkook teases your entrance with his tattooed fingers, loving the way you whimper and beg for more, biting your bottom lip to keep from getting too loud.

“Fuck, baby,” you moan when he finally sinks two fingers in knuckle-deep. You clench around them as he slowly fucks them into you, his thumb rubbing your clit as he focuses on the rise and fall of your chest.

Jungkook palms his cock with his other hand, moaning softly when your eyes lock. He smirks as you reach for him and he places your hand on his cock.

“Can you take them off?” You ask bashfully, and he chuckles before slowly taking his fingers out of you. He sucks them into his mouth, eyes nearly rolling to the back of his head as he gets a taste of you.

Fuck, he’d have you for breakfast, lunch, and dinner every day for the rest of his life if you’d let him.

Your thighs tremble as he steps back, cunt soaked and dripping onto his sheets. You’re the first girl he’s had in his bed like this and he hopes your scent lingers long after you’re back home.

Jungkook is a vision. An Adonis among men. Michaelangelo himself would have shed a tear upon gazing at the masterpiece that is Jeon Jungkook.

Speechless, you reach for him as he chuckles. He takes your hand and brings it to his lips, kissing it gently before placing it on his chest.

“Do as you wish, my love,” Jungkook says as he follows your hand with his hooded gaze.

Your brain seems to be empty of all thoughts except Jungkook. His name, his body, that sinful smile that tugs at the corner of his lips. He’s eyeing you with mirth, licking his lips as your hand descends until it’s cupping his erection.

“Fuck,” he breathes as you stroke him, your fingers sliding under his boxers to feel the weight of him in your palm. He groans, whispering your name as you continue to stroke him, pausing only to spit in your hand. He takes the moment to tug his boxers off.

Jungkook kisses you as you touch him again, his fingers finding their home between your thighs as he gets you to nearly sing his name in praise as you tighten around him.

“Wish you were wrapped around my fat cock, babe. I’d make you scream even louder,” he goads as you muffle your cries in his broad shoulder right beside his little scar.

“Jungkook, please,” you beg as he kisses you deeply. It’s hot, messy, all teeth and tongues and desperate touches as his cock pressed against your clit. You’re soaking wet, dripping onto the sheets and allowing his cock to glide easily, the fat head bumping against your clit as your legs wrap around him trembling at his sides.

“Koo!” You whine, biting down on his shoulder. Hasty kisses meet his skin as you soothe the pain of your love bite. Your body becomes overwhelmed with pleasure, arching into him as you orgasm, squeezing his fingers until they’re soaked beyond his wrist.

Jungkook cries out your name, lips finding yours in a sloppy kiss that swallows his moans and groans as he cums all over your cunt. His hips rock against you until he’s well spent, cock too sensitive to go on.

“Shit!” He breathes as he lies beside you with his arm over his head.

You’re warm and sticky beside him, his cum coating your skin generously. Jungkook kisses your cheek as he pulls you to him, using his other hand to fix his boxers.

He doesn’t like the way they cling to him and he’ll be sure to clean himself up as well as you before you go to sleep.

Silence fills the space between you as you stare at each other with bashful smiles and gentle touches. Jungkook kisses your lips softly, his fingers caressing your cheek.

“I really do like you, ya know,” he admits, and it sends your heart soaring into the heavens.

You bite back a giant grin as you lace your fingers together. “I really like you too.”

Jungkook blushes, kissing you once more before he climbs out of bed to get cleaned up. He assures you he’ll be back in a few minutes and he cleans you up with a warm washcloth and helps you to the bathroom.

Once you’re both in bed again, he snuggles into you. His fluffy hair splays on your chest as he snores softly. You smile to yourself as you hold back a yawn.

Jungkook sleeps soundly as you stroke his hair, hoping this can be more than just pretend.

Christmas Eve brings a blanket of snow and Seojun and Saraí.

Though you and Jungkook haven’t done more than fool around that one night, you’ve found it hard to keep your hands to yourself.

Seojun, Saraí, and Jungkook took you sledding at one of their favorite spots.

Jimin, Taehyung, and Yoongi were already there when you arrived, holding hands with Jungkook.

“Where are Joon and Seokjin?” You ask as you hide your face from the wind on Jungkook's shoulder. He laughs as he tightens your scarf and kisses your head.

“They went to pick up Hoseok at the train station. Hoseok’s parents are busy prepping for Christmas Eve dinner, and his sister is bringing someone home,” Jimin explains as he hands his sled to Taehyung to take a turn.

“Sounds serious,” Yoongi comments with a sly grin.

“My parents keep asking when I’ll bring someone home,” Jimin sighs. “Are you free next Christmas?”

Jungkook scoffs. “As if.”

“Not you.” Jimin rolls his eyes before saying your name.

Yoongi laughs as Taehyung comes back.

“I don’t think passing me around as a fake girlfriend is what your parents mean, Min,” you shake your head as you take the sled from Taehyung.

Jimin shrugs. “Worth a shot.”

Jungkook glares at him before you tug him away to the top of the hill. He helps you onto the sled before he gets on behind you and pushes. You scream and close your eyes as you go down, laughing when you come to a stop moments later.

“Wanna go again?” Jungkook grins as he helps you up. You shake your head as you pat the snow off your clothing.

“I’m good,” you laugh. “Once was enough.”

The trek back up the hill is rough as you stomp in the snow to reach your friends. Jungkook hands the sled to Yoongi as he wraps his arms around your waist, resting his head on your shoulder.

Despite admitting to liking each other, you haven’t talked to determine what that means. For one, you kind of like this limbo you’re in where you’re not not together but also not truly faking either.

At one point or another, you’ll have to have that conversation, but it’s Christmas Eve, and Jungkook looks too cute with his giant snowball.

Oh, no.

He’s heading toward you and Jimin. This is what happens when you get lost in thought. Jimin grabs your hand and pulls as Yoongi and Taehyung run in the opposite direction.

Jungkook cackles as he chases after you and Jimin. The snowball rises high in the air as he shouts, “Come get your Christmas gift, Park!”

Luna herds the family up the stairs later that night when she’s ready for bed.

Jungkook and you wear your matching pajamas. An evening of food, laughter, and photos has drained you as you go up the stairs after Minji and Luna.

Jungkook keeps his hand on your lower back, guiding your sleepy self up the stairs and down the hall.

“Goodnight, honey,” Minji kisses Jungkook’s cheek and then yours.

You smile as you climb into bed with Jungkook beside you. His mood lamp is on, and you’re grateful for the pink stars that light the ceiling. Even at your age, you’re still a little scared of the dark.

“What’s on your mind?” Jungkook asks as he rolls to his side to face you.

You face him, your fingers laced with his.

“I’m just really glad I came to your home for the holidays. It’s been amazing. You, your family, everything has been perfect.” you smile warmly as he brings your knuckles to his lips to kiss gently.

“I’m glad you came. I know this whole thing has been a little odd, but getting to know you and being here with you has been the best part of this Christmas.” Jungkook pecks you on the lips, unable to control the smile that lights up his face.

Your gaze holds his, the sparkle in his eyes making you fall for him a little more as they grow brighter with each passing second.

“Kiss me,” you whisper as you lean in closer, and he closes the distance between you with his lips. They’re soft and taste like strawberry chapstick when they brush against your lips. You break apart for a moment, his eyes revealing more than you want to speak of now.

Instead, you whisper, “Kiss me again.”

Slowly, Jungkook kisses you again. He cups your face while you tug on his shirt, quickly removing it from him.

His breathy laugh brushes your skin as he noses at your throat. “Eager?”

“Shut up,” you hiss, climbing on top of him as his hands grip your hips.

Jungkook groans at your words, licking his lips as you take your top off to discard on the bedroom floor. Your fingers make quick work of your bra and soon you’re left topless and horny on top of him.

“Fuck,” Jungkook curses as he gets an eyeful of your breasts and nearly drools as his hands move upwards to cup them in his hands. You moan his name when his fingers brush the sensitive nipples, making them peak.

As much as he loves seeing you on top, Jungkook wants to take his time with you. This was a turn of events he wasn’t expecting, otherwise, he would have waited for your first time together to be at his place, in private where you could scream his name as loud as you wanted.

However, he won’t pass up the chance to have you. You’ve had such a hard time keeping your hands off each other even around your friends. Stealing kisses and sneaking off to make out in dim hallways and busy restaurant alleys. Light touches under tables, lustful looks shared across the room until you could sneak off together and kiss as if your lives depended on it.

If Jungkook could do this all over again, he would. Only he’d make you his from the get-go. But that’s a thought for another time as your hands glide up his torso, moaning at the sight of him.

“Jungkook,” his name tumbles so sweetly from your kiss-swollen lips.

His breath fans across your face as he chuckles. His dark locks create a curtain between you. Slowly, your fingers push his hair out of the way to find his sparkling eyes locked on yours. You melt beneath him as he kisses you.

Your hands grip his strong shoulders as your legs wrap around his hips to pull him close. Jungkook laughs at your eagerness, teeth nipping your bottom lip before releasing it.

Jungkook kisses his way down to your neck, sucking on the sensitive skin until his name fills the bedroom. You cover your mouth to muffle your moans, but he’s quick to remove it.

With lust-filled eyes, you watch as he takes your hand and brings it to his lips, kissing each fingertip until he’s kissing your palm and moving upwards.

Jungkook wants to take his time with you. Show you his appreciation from the crown of your head to the tips of your toes. He knows you’ll only let him do so much before you beg for more, more, more…

Like clockwork, your fingers thread through his hair directing his lips to yours as you kiss him with everything you’ve got. He moans against your lips, cursing when you tug on his bottom lip.

Your hands move downward across the massive expanse of his back, each muscle rippling beneath your touch as you arch into him. Your hips grind against him, the thin material of your shorts already soaking wet with your arousal.

Jungkook nearly growls when he feels it, cock throbbing in the next moment. He hikes your leg up higher on his waist, his hand grabbing your ass as his lips feverishly seek yours.

Gasps and moans fill the space between you in between hot, needy kisses that make your toes curl. Panting, you beg him for more as his hands tug your shorts off to toss on the bedroom floor; forgotten until morning.

You lay bare beneath him as he sat back on his haunches. His hands lace with yours, a soft bashful smile on his lips.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers, his eyes never straying from yours as he leans in for a kiss.

Jungkook’s had enough teasing. His hands grip your thighs, cursing when he feels your wetness on your skin. He slowly rubs your clit, his dark hooded gaze on yours.

“Fuck, baby,” he curses as he moves his fingers downward and slowly slides them inside you. He watches you closely; loves the way your eyes flutter shut and your teeth sink into your bottom lip as he curls his fingers and rubs your clit with his thumb.

“Kook,” you moan when he goes faster, slipping a little deeper just to watch you tremble. “Fuck me.”

You’re tired of waiting. You’ve wanted this since before you shared your first kiss and now being naked in his bed is becoming too much. You’ve dreamed of this time and time again and it’s about to become a reality if Jungkook can stop teasing you and just split you open.

You’ll beg, plead, and cry if you have to just for a taste of him. Just for a moment of sweet bliss.

“Please,” you beg as your hands palm over his cock in his pajama pants. You’re quick to tug them downward and Jungkook laughs at your excitement. He gets off the bed to kick them off and your mouth waters at the sight of his thick cock as he wraps his hand around it and strokes it.

You bite your bottom lip, watching him intently until you’re getting on your knees and crawling to the edge of the bed.

Jungkook groans when your hand wraps around his length. Your tongue licking the head teasingly. His gaze burns into the top of your head as your lips wrap around him. You relax your jaw as you take him in further, drooling all over yourself as you remind yourself to breathe through your nose.

He feels heavy on your tongue as you open wider. His hands grip your hair hesitantly before you pull off him.

“Don’t be scared,” you giggle. “I won’t break.”

“Fuck,” Jungkook groans as you wrap your lips around him once again. He lets you find your pace, not pushing too deep before he’s guiding you. Your hand rolls his balls while the other strokes him.

“Just like that. Fuck,” Jungkook throws his head back, the mood lamp illuminates the room, accentuating the veins in his neck, and he curses again. You moan around him, slurping as you get messy, bobbing up and down, gagging on his fat cock while Jungkook loses his mind over your pretty lips.

He pulls on your hair, using it to fuck your mouth until your nose presses to his abdomen. You choke, pulling off him to catch your breath.

“You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth,” Jungkook tongues his lip ring as he takes you in. You’re breathing heavily trying to catch your breath. Your hair is mussed from him tugging on it, and your lips are smeared with spit and his pre-cum. You look beautiful.

Jungkook leans forward, kissing you. All teeth and tongue, unable to resist how gorgeous you look in that moment.

It’s not too long before you’re back on the bed with your legs spread wide open for him, begging for his cock once again.

“So needy,” Jungkook coos as he strokes himself, the fat head of his cock brushing your clit.

“Please,” you whimper, trying to raise your hips in hopes that he’ll just slide right in. “Fuck.”

Jungkook bites his lip. He’s never seen anyone so desperate for his dick. It makes him throb as he teases your entrance and a whine of his name escapes you, nails digging into his back.

“Don’t make me find someone else,” you huff.

Jungkook rolls his eyes as he kisses your jaw, trailing upward to your ear before taking the lobe between his teeth.

“They can’t fuck you as good as I will,” he laughs cockily.

You arch into him, lips meeting his in a needy kiss as he slides into you. The stretch is wonderful. Stars illuminate your vision as Jungkook’s lips muffle the moan that threatens to wake the whole house.

The two of you have managed to keep the noises down to a reasonable level but Jungkook knows his luck might run out if he gets too carried away. Shit, he should have waited until he had you to himself at his apartment or even your dorm.

“Gotta be quiet, baby. Or I’ll have to stop,” Jungkook whispers as he sinks in further. “You don’t want me to stop, do you?”

“No, please don’t stop. Koo,” you press your lips to his shoulder as he goes deeper, gripping your thighs with his large hands. He settles between your legs perfectly, cursing at the ceiling at how warm and wet you feel wrapped around him. It’s better than he could have ever imagined.

Jungkook grabs both of your legs, throwing them over his left shoulder as he pummels into you.

Tears flow down your cheeks. The pleasure is too overwhelming, lighting your body ablaze with each deep thrust that rewards you.

“So tight,” Jungkook grunts as his hair falls over his eyes. He pushes it back with his tattooed hand before moving it down to grope your breast, his fingers rolling your nipple just to listen to the sweet cries that escape you.

You tighten around him, soaking his cock as you cover your mouth with your hand.

Jungkook smiles, fucking you deeper, harder. Your cunt clings to him, thighs shaking as he holds your legs to his chest. His lips press a kiss to your calf before you dig your nails into the sheets beneath you, beyond ruined.

The creaking of the mattress is louder than Jungkook would like, but you look like you’re about to combust. His name leaves your lips in quick succession, nearly panting as tears roll down your cheeks, leaving behind stains as you bite your hand to keep from screaming his name as you tighten around him when you cum.

Jungkook fucks you slower, eyes focused on where your bodies connect. He waits for you to calm down, leaning forward to kiss your lips.

“Can you go for one more?” Jungkook asks in between kisses, your tongue meeting his as he cups your face.

“Yes,” you answer honestly, wanting more of him.

Jungkook kisses you one more time, moaning into the kiss as you clench around his cock. He nearly growls when you do it again, moving your hips against his.

“Let me get you on your hands and knees, darling,” Jungkook says as he pulls out of you and you whine at the loss.

Jungkook chuckles. “Easy, doll. You’ll have my ego growing bigger.”

You laugh, flipping him off. Jungkook laughs, leaning forward to gently nibble on your finger before you rip it out of his mouth.

Smirking, Jungkook helps you onto your knees as you plant your hands on the bed, arching your back.

Jungkook runs his tattooed hand over your back, gently slapping your ass just to watch it jiggle. He couldn’t lie, seeing you in jeans made his mouth water and there were a few times he had to excuse himself after staring at it for too long.

“Kook,” you say his name in a wanton tone that makes him melt.

Your eyes lock and he smiles as he grabs your ass in both hands, spreading you open for him. Your face grows hot as you turn around, unable to handle the dark lust-filled gaze he rewarded you with.

Jungkook doesn’t waste any more time as he lines himself up at your entrance, cursing when you welcome him easily.

His hands grip your hips tightly, almost enough to bruise. His name rolls off your tongue. You nearly drool when he reaches places others have only dreamed of.

You're so warm, so wet. It nearly drives him insane as he spears you on his cock. You’re soaking him, absolutely drenching him, and ruining him for anyone else. You’re the only one he wants, the only one he could ever want, and as he throws his head back in pleasure, he loses himself to thoughts he’d only shared with Yoongi.

“Fuck, baby,” Jungkook growls, gripping your ass as he continues to fuck you. He cards his hand through his hair, feeling sweat bead on his brow as you grow restless and fuck yourself on his dick.

“Just like that, baby. Use me. Use my cock. Fuck,” Jungkook groans as you fuck yourself on him, panting and moaning. He can see you biting down on his pillow, cunt pulsing around him as you scream into the pillow trying to keep quiet.

Jungkook watches you for another moment or two before he’s slamming into you. You cry out, face buried in his pillow as he grabs handfuls of your hips and ass, unable to decide what to use to anchor himself as he fills you again and again.

“Fuck, darling. You feel so good wrapped around me,” Jungkook grunts as his eyes flutter shut. His body tingles all over, and your moans are growing in octaves despite the pillow clenched between your teeth soaked with spit and tears.

The obscene smacking of your coupling is almost too loud but Jungkook can’t be damned to give a single fuck as you clench around him, nearly milking his cock. He moans your name and curses as you tighten around him, moaning incoherently as you orgasm once again. Your poor legs shake as you ride it out, sobbing unintelligibly into the bed as praises you.

“Want to fuck you full of my cum, baby,” Jungkook can’t help himself as he thrusts in deeper. He’s so close. His lip is caught between his teeth as you fuck yourself weakly on his cock, your body still tingling.

“Please, do it,” you spur him on as you clench around him, tempting him.

“Baby!”

“Jungkook!”

“Gonna fill you up until you’re dripping. Gonna fuck it all back into you, baby. Make you think of me all day.” Jungkook curses as you meet each of his thrusts, his fingers finding your sensitive clit as you muffle a wail of his name in your hand.

“Come on, love. Just one more for me, pretty girl,” Jungkook encourages as he nears the edge. He curses, losing himself as he fills you, and you tighten around him, soaking him and the sheets. A whimper escapes you as you fall forward on the bed, utterly spent.

Jungkook exhales deeply as he fills you to the brim before pulling out. He’s tempted to spread your legs and set them on his broad shoulders, lick you clean, and put you to bed.

But you’re spent, eyes barely open as you reach for him.

Jungkook kisses you gently. “Gotta clean you up, babe.”

You groan, legs already feeling sore. Jungkook helps you out of bed. He puts a shirt on you and opens his bedroom door as quietly as possible. He peeks into the hallway, making sure the coast is clear before he leads you to the bathroom.

Jungkook made sure you were steady enough to not fall before he ran to the room to change the sheets and pillowcases. By the time you’re back, he’s in a pair of boxers.

“Get in bed, babe,” he instructs as he helps you in and tucks you in. “I’ll be right back.”

You watch him go, waiting for him and smiling when he comes back a few minutes later with some water. He lets you drink a bit before he gets into bed beside you.

You curl into him, still unsure of what all this means, but you don’t care much when he wraps you up in his arms and holds you close.

“Sleep well, darling.”

Christmas morning passes in a whirlwind of breakfast and movies. Lots of stories from Jungkook’s childhood; few you heard from the man himself and more from his parents. Jungkook grows embarrassed soon, but nothing beats the flush on his cheeks when his mother pulls out the photo albums. Lunch came and passed with more stories and photos as Jungkook hid his face on your shoulder.

It’s not until after dinner that you’re all gathered in the living room with Minji and the Jeons.

“Come here, dear,” Minji pats the spot beside her as she holds a large pink photo album in her lap. One she brought for your arrival.

Jungkook sits on the arm of the couch next to you, curious eyes on the album as Minji opens it and takes out two envelopes.

One she hands to Jungkook and the other to you.

You’re confused. The family had exchanged gifts just after dinner with good wishes and warm coffee and cookies. Wrapping paper and gift bags still littered the living room floor.

“The two of you are so good together,” Minji comments as Jungkook kisses the top of your head. “I had this same talk with Saraí and Seojun when he first brought her home. Same with your father and your mother, and now you.”

Minji places a hand on yours. “I first met Jungkook’s grandfather at the Christmas parade in town. Oh, we couldn’t stand each other one bit!”

Jungkook chuckles as he listens to his grandmother.

“We were assigned the same parade float, and I swear that man was as stubborn as a mule! He wanted goats instead of reindeer, fireworks instead of candles, and he wanted me to be Santa! He said he’d be an elf! He was over six feet tall! An elf!” Minji shakes her head as she points to a photo of her as an elf and who you assume to be Jungkook’s grandfather as Santa.

“I arm wrestled him for it!” Minji exclaims proudly. “In front of his friends, and I won fair and square! I grew up with three brothers.”

You laugh as she turns the page, and Minji sits with her brothers. They all smile in the photo and make silly faces.

“I thought he’d be embarrassed that I beat him. But I got my way. I stood my ground and he claimed that’s when he knew I was the one for him,” Minji continues as she flips the page and runs her fingers over her wedding photo.

Tears pool in your eyes as you look at Jungkook. He looks like he’s about to cry, and guilt fills your chest.

“That man gave me a wonderful life. Beautiful children and cute grandkids. I miss him every day. Stubborn man he was, but there was nothing we couldn’t get through together.” Minji wipes a stray tear before smiling fondly.

“Anyway,” she sniffles as she sets the album on the coffee table.

“I wanted to give you two something special to get you started. I know you haven’t been together for too long, but Jungkook looks at you the way his grandfather looked at me and you the way I looked at him. I know it deep in my soul that you two belong together.” Minji smiles warmly as she takes your hand and Jungkook’s. “Be good to each other.”

You wipe a few tears and look at Jungkook. He opens the envelope, and it holds a photo of a home (not an apartment) with the address written on the back and a small gold key.

You can’t do this.

Not anymore.

The Jeons have welcomed you with open arms and all you’ve done is lie to them. Guilt washes over you in waves as you force yourself not to cry. This is wrong.

You hand the envelope back to Minji before rising to your feet. Your heart pounds in your chest, nearly deafening you as you try (and fail) to steel yourself.

“We lied,” you state, wringing your hands in front of you.

Jungkook frowns as he hands his envelope back to Minji. Guilt bubbles deep in his belly, and he knows this has gone too far. He should have never gone on with this scheme. Conning his grandmother? He felt terrible. He should have told the truth from the beginning.

“We aren’t a couple,” Jungkook admits, feeling the confused stares of his family. “We lied to you all.”

Aera and Dae stare at their youngest son and then at you.

Minji shakes her head.

“I lied,” Jungkook continues as he takes your hand. “She had nothing to do with it. I begged her to help me. I’m so sorry, Grandmother Jeon.”

Seojun stares with furrowed brows as Saraí places her hand on his shoulder. He couldn’t fathom why his little brother would lie.

“I thought Grandmother Jeon would give me an apartment or something if she thought I was seeing someone seriously like Seojun.” Jungkook hangs his head in shame. “The lie kept growing and growing until I was too embarrassed to tell the truth. I never meant to hurt anyone. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not all his fault, Grandmother Jeon,” you said as you squeezed his hand. “I agreed to help. You’ve all been so welcoming, and I didn’t have a place to go for the holidays, and I agreed. We never intended to harm anyone. We’re both so sorry.”

Minji laughs from her seat, surprising Aera and Dae.

“I know all about your little scheme,” Minji laughs, shaking her head as if this were the most comical thing she has witnessed. “Jimin’s grandmother hits the slot machines with me, and that boy sure loves to open his mouth. I’ve known since I arrived, honey.”

“Jungkook! Why would you lie? You know you could have told us anything!” Aera crosses her arms as she scolds her son.

“I just felt pressured,” Jungkook admits, and his mother sinks. “I hadn’t dated in a while, and I know you’d like to see me married like Seojun, but it just seemed like this is what everyone wanted from me.”

“Son,” Dae approaches him, hugging him. “We know we can be a little pushy, and I promise you will no longer feel pressured to settle down. We just got excited over Seojun. We wanted you to have the same happiness and partnership he and Saraí do.”

“Your father’s right,” Aera nods as she hugs Jungkook. “Oh, my baby! I’m so sorry for pressuring you! I just worry about you being alone so far away.”

“I’m fine, mom. I’ve got friends, and now I have her.” Jungkook reaches for you once his parents release him from their hugs.

Aera hugs you. “I’m so sorry for all this. We enjoy having you here. You’ve made our son and family so happy with your presence. It’s been a joy getting to know you and seeing how happy you’ve made our Kookie.”

You smile, hugging her tight before Minji hands Jungkook the envelope again.

“That’s yours to do as you please,” she states as she hands you your envelope.

You open it and gasp when you see two tickets to a resort you’ve wanted to go to. They’re dated for Spring Break.

“I’ve got a place down there that you’re welcome to visit during your vacation, but Jimin’s grandmother and I will be busy partying.”

“Mother!” Dae exclaims in shock.

“What? I’m old enough to drink! I’ve been old enough to drink.” she shakes her head with a laugh.

“I can’t accept this.” you try to return it, but Minji won’t take it.

“No takebacks!” She grins as she rises from the couch, and Luna follows her, yapping at her ankles.

“Should we go see the Christmas lights?” Seojun suggests as he rises to his feet and helps Saraí.

The family heads out to join the rest of the neighborhood on a walk. Jimin, Taehyung, Yoongi, Namjoon, Hoseok, and Seokjin join you as you let your families go on ahead without you.

“How’d it go?” Hoseok asks as he shivers, his ears peeking from his beanie.

“Yeah,” Seokjin grins. “Did you get the apartment?”

“Did the plan work?” Taehyung questions.

“Yes,” you say with a wry smile.

“And no.” Jungkook shakes his head.

“Huh?” Yoongi furrows his brows.

“Jimin needs to learn that gossiping with your grandmother can bite you in the butt!” Jungkook hisses as he laces his fingers with yours.

Jimin pales, turning his head and whistling to appear nonchalant.

“Yeah, Min!” You agree with a laugh as Jungkook kisses your cheek.

“I thought she’d forget!” Jimin defends as he gets playfully shoved by his friends. The snow crunches beneath your feet as you continue to walk, the glow of the Christmas lights reflecting on the snow.

“Oh no,” you giggle. “Jimin’s grandmother told Grandmother Jeon.”

“And she knew the moment she stepped into the house,” Jungkook sighed with a shake of his head.

“Whoops!” Jimin laughs.

“So much for ‘Con Jungkook’s Grandma, huh?” Namjoon sighed as a chill ran through him. His scarf fluttered in the light wind as snowflakes fell from the sky.

“Shut up!” Jungkook laughs as he stops to form a snowball.

Seokjin laughs, pulling Yoongi with him as they run away from Jungkook.

Hoseok and Jimin slam into each other in their haste to escape the ricocheting snowball that smacks Namjoon in the chest.

Namjoon curses, forming a snowball as Taehyung runs away, following Yoongi and Seokjin, begging them to protect him.

You laugh as you take off, running with Jungkook as Namjoon hurls a snowball in your direction.

Laughter fills the streets of the neighborhood as more people join the snowball fight while you jog away with Jungkook, holding hands as you hide behind a tree for cover.

You’re pressed to his chest, peeking to see if you’ve been discovered yet, but being so far away from everyone just means silence surrounds you.

The evening is quiet as snow continues to fall, and Jungkook wraps his scarf around you to keep you warm. You’re wearing matching coats, hands warm in your gloves as he pulls you closer.

Everything fades into nothingness as his gaze meets yours. His hand is gentle when he cups your face. His gaze flits to your lips and back to your eyes.

“You know this is the best Christmas I’ve ever had,” Jungkook whispers.

“Me too,” you whisper as you hold his gaze.

“There’s only one thing that would make it better,” Jungkook smiles softly.

“And what’s that?” You ask as you bite your bottom lip.

“If you were mine,” Jungkook said with a dimpled smile. “For real this time.”

“I think I can make that happen,” you tease with a coquette smile. “But only with a kiss.”

Chuckling, Jungkook cups your face. “As you wish, baby.”

Jungkook captures your lips with his own, moaning when your fingers thread in his hair. He kisses you deeply as snowflakes coat your hair and his.

There’s nothing better than kissing Jungkook, your boyfriend. The word makes your heart skip a beat as he deepens the kiss, soft moans escaping the both of you as your lips move in sync.

Jungkook can’t help but be elated. His heart flutters as he realizes this is your first Christmas together. The first of many. He can see his future in your eyes—a home, a marriage, and children running down these streets covered in snow and Christmas lights.

There’s nothing more he could ever want.

When he catches your gaze, a bashful smile appears on your lips as you ask, “What?”

Jungkook shakes his head slightly, “Nothing. Just thinking about next Christmas.”

“Oh, will I be back?” You ask cheekily as he pulls you closer, the laughter of your friends ringing in the background as they grow closer.

“Definitely.” Jungkook seals his promise with a kiss just as your friends arrive, hooting as they circle you.

“Come on, lovebirds,” Namjoon huffs. “Momma Jeon’s got hot chocolate and cookies waiting for us.”

You laugh as Jungkook takes your hand, smiling as his friends race down the sidewalk to be the first on Momma Jeon’s porch. You smile, imagining all your Christmases like this, with your friends and Jungkook at your side.

Before you reach his home, Jungkook stops you just beneath the door frame before pointing up. Mistletoe hangs above your head, and you share a smile. Jungkook gently places his hand on your cheek, his thumb caressing it as he whispers, “Merry Christmas.” before he kisses you.

<< part one

#bangtanarmynet #btsgoldnet #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader insert #bf!jungkook #jungkook x you #jungkook x y/n #jungkook fake dating au #bts christmas #fic: hfth #fic: home for the holidays

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sweetshuga · 3 months ago

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That One Autumn Evening ✰ MS

───~𓆩♡𓆪~───

Hooking up at a mutual friend’s party.

Warnings! Smut!, strong language!, obscene descriptions, pet name (pretty), oral (f! receiving), fingering, p in v (unprotected), overstimulation, size kink (kinda), praise kink (kinda), etc.

wc. 1.4k

notes. English is not my first language! Prologue to Keep it on

The music blared throughout the house, drowning out your thoughts. A solo cup in your hand that you occasionally took a sip from—even though you knew you had one too many tonight. Most of your friends had already gone home, having excused themselves saying they had work or just weren’t up for a crazy hangover tomorrow.

You, on the other hand, couldn’t care less about anything at the moment. You had just broken up with your boyfriend of 2 years, over an argument about the dress you were gonna wear to this exact party you stood in, gulping down drink after drink.

The pouring rain outside contrasted starkly to the liveliness in the house, but it matched your mood all too well. The stormy weather was almost blanked out by the darkness looming over due to the late hours, but the sound of pattering droplets of rain kept reminding you of the turmoil outside, and in you.

Well, you and your boyfriend started to have a strain in your relationship from the second year mark so it wasn’t really a surprise when he broke up with you tonight; it was inevitable. Everything you did seemed to make him either annoyed or somehow even pissed off, which was completely unreasonable since all you wanted was his attention.

"He’s a fucking scumbag, always was, only you saw him through rose-colored glass," your friend held your hand, slurring her words as she spoke. A bitter scoff left your lips before you chugged the rest of the mix of alcohols that you didn’t even recognise the names of. "I know, don’t remind me," you mumbled, trying to keep your words from slurring.

One of your friends suddenly clutched your arms, and with wide eyes she whispered, "holy fuck, there’s a crazy hot guy approaching us, you have to at least get his number, forget about that dumb ex of yours— just act flirty okay?" She slurred. "What?" You answered dumbly.

You looked back when you felt a tap on your shoulder, locking eyes with a blue eyed brunette with a charming smile. "Yes?" The guy chuckled, "you’re really pretty," he said bluntly, the alcohol in his system fueling his confidence.

You just stood there and blinked at him for a good minute before your intoxicated self acknowledged what he said, straightening up as a smirk made its way onto your lips. "You’re not bad looking yourself, and nice chain," you said pointing at your own collar, indicating to the silver chain – with a horse pendant – around his neck.

He laughed softly and looked down at his chain briefly before raking his gaze over your body appraisingly, leaning in as he whispered in your ear, "you up for a more quiet talk?" A smile curved up your lips and you nodded, telling your friends you’ll be back.

𓆩♡𓆪

The way up the second floor stairs and into a spare bedroom was a blur, followed by giggles and muffled sounds of clothes hitting the floor.

Your giggles turned into breathy sighs as he kissed your bare skin, trailing his lips down the valley between your tits and leaving a few wet kisses there before going lower. Humming in appreciation to your body as he licked a stripe down your pelvis, causing your breath to hitch.

Matt chuckled when he noticed you squirm under his attention, slowly parting your thighs with his hands, "you’re so pretty, m’gonna eat this pussy so good—so pretty," he murmured before diving down. Your eyes rolled back briefly the moment his tongue made contact with your throbbing clit, a breathy moan escaped through your parted lips.

"Mhm... so sensitive ain’t you, pretty?" he mumbled against your flesh, causing vibrations that made your hips buck against his face, a whine leaving your lips. "Fuck... feels so good—yeah, just like that, oh fu—ck," you moaned as he plunged two long digits into your spasming walls, curling them just right.

His fingers and mouth worked in tandem, making that knot in your lower abdomen tighter with each lick and stroke. Your moans grew louder as you squirmed against his face—only to be held down by his free hand, eliciting a sob of pleasure from you.

"Can’t—m’gonna, gonna—shit, shit, shit," you moaned loudly, your fingers clutching on his hair for dear life as a powerful orgasm washed over you. The intoxication of the alcohol in your system made it all the more intense as you struggled to come down from your high, and the way his tongue flicked over your oversensitized bud of nerves didn’t help one bit.

He sucked hard on your clit and started to pound his fingers into you, intentionally curling his fingers upwards. "Wait—shit, i’m gonna—oh fuck, fuck—" you moaned loudly, almost wailing as you squirted all over his face, the sensation bordering on too much.

Your body went limp on the bed, your breathing ragged as you tried to comprehend the earth-shattering orgasm you just had. Matt wiped his face with the back of his hand, rising up your body, nudging his painfully hard erection against your pelvis.

Despite your obvious sensitivity and almost overstimulating experience, you found yourself wrapping your legs around his torso, beckoning him closer—to which he gladly did.

He leaned down and brushed his lips against yours, "shh—you were so good, so good fo’me... you think you can go a bit more, pretty?" he murmured against your lips. "Yeah... just slowly, please," you whispered, your voice dying on you due to overuse.

He whispered soft praises and sweet nothings in your ear as he slowly pushed inside you, keeping a steady but slow pace. "Just like that, keep those pretty eyes on me and just feel alright?" He whispered, his lips trailing along your jaw and down your neck—ending at your collarbone where he left hickeys.

He made sure to be gentle even in his intoxicated state, knowing you were as drunk as, if not more than, him. His pace was unhurried but the tip of his cock brushed against your cervix with each thrust, grinding his hips whenever he bottomed out, making you whimper.

"Shit, you’re so big," you moaned, unable to think of anything but the thick girth inside you. Your walls fluttered around him, and each time he pulled back he would let out a groan at the way your pussy seemed to suck him in.

"Fuck—you like how big I am?" He rasped, and all you could do was nod, muttering a soft "yes" to which he groaned aloud. "Fuu—ck that’s dangerous," he mumbled, closing his eyes to hold on to that last bit of control, but the damage was already done.

His pace quickened, his hands gripped your knees and pushed them up, almost folding you in half as he started to pound into you. The tip of his cock hitting your cervix with bruising force each time, making you clutch onto him and the bedspread, your eyes wide as you moaned loudly.

He groaned loudly before smashing his lips against yours, swallowing your desperate cries of pleasure. The sound of the bedframe slamming against the wall rivalled with the sound of his hips slamming against yours.

The bed creaked beneath you, and your moans grew louder when he suddenly changed his angle, hitting that spot that made you see sparks. Your eyes rolled back as the pleasure threatened to consume you whole.

You jolted awake, sitting upright as you took in your surroundings, clutching your head at the severe pounding in your head. "Fuck, shouldn’t have drank so much..." Your hoarse voice trailed off when you noticed your nakedness under the covers.

Your mouth gaped as you tried to make sense of anything at all, but the hangover was preventing you from thinking even the slightest bit.

A slight movement beside you caught you off guard, and your gaze travelling to the guy sleeping beside you. His back was facing you—full of red marks, undeniable scratch marks. A soft flush creeped up your face at the sight.

You tentatively reached over and gently shook his shoulder. "Hey..." You tried to say but your voice was too hoarse and quiet so you opted to just get out of there before he woke up, but not before you wrote a small note, leaving it on the pillow next to him.

𓆩♡𓆪

Matt woke up a bit later, turning around just to be met with—no one. His eyebrows furrowed, he was sure he had hooked up with someone, "did I have a wet dream or something?" He mumbled to himself. Sitting upright on the bed before his gaze landed on the note beside him.

His face broke into a huge grin as he read the note, a soft chuckle escaping through his lips. You had written your name and phone number on the note, and had marked it with your lipstick stain.

𓆩♡𓆪

wc. 1,475

Isa's notes. Yeah... I know I haven't been posting, but what can I say? School has started and I'm in grade 12 (senior year) sooo I have a lot of things to do at the moment:( Also, I made so many jump cuts just because I was too lazy to write it all 😃

xoxo 𓆩♡𓆪

Taglist: @strnilolover @mattsfavoritestar @sophand4n4 @tpwktahlz @lilyyliloo @slut4angstt @pvssychicken @poolover123 @loud-sturniolos @inlovewchrissturniolo @queenshet @chrisstopherfilmed

#matt sturniolo #smut #matt x reader #fanfiction #matt x you #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo oneshot #matthew sturniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo smut #matthew bernard sturniolo #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo oneshot #oneshot #sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sweetshugams #𓆩♡𓆪sweetshuga

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sfznyxio · 4 months ago

Text

-ˋˏ WILDEST FANTASIES ˎˊ

SYNOPSIS. you are irresistible and a source of temptation, especially in his imagination.

CHARACTERS. oikawa tooru, hanamaki takahiro, matsukawa issei, iwaizumi hajime

CONTENT. f!reader. canon-compliant, post-timeskip (2021). smut. 1.8k wc. rewrite of wildest fantasies at my old nsfw blue lock group blog @/bllk-after-dark, moved to haikyuu for an age-appropriate cast. reader is in a relationship with all except makki. seijoh 4 imagine how they would fuck reader. other warnings vary for each section and will be listed there instead because uh, it’s a lot.

VERA. sorry, the power of horny took over. i never read the manga, so i went with the seijoh 4 as the scenarios suit them the most. i struggled with makki and mattsun, so they may seem ooc. i guess I'm celebrating kinktober with this fic lol.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. OIKAWA TOORU

breeding kink, creampie, edging, fingering, jealousy (toward a teammate and kageyama), marking

mine is written on your skin with invisible ink. oikawa fumes at a player from his team talking to you, seemingly enjoying his company when he sees you laughing. he doesn’t experience rage often, but it can get worse when the infamous “king of the court” from the opponent team strikes up a conversation with you.

“what’s with the silent treatment, tooru?” the drive to the hotel is tense, and he treats you like a ghost. he also feels similar, for different reasons. when the two of you arrive at your room, he pins you down on the door with arms above your head and cunt on his knee. lust clouds his eyes as his tongue battles against yours and teeth nips at your throat, leaving a trail of bruises in its wake.

“craving attention from him, out of all people when i’m here? i’m hurt.” you gasp at the friction of his knee on your cunt. his fingers slip inside, pumping them agonizingly slow as punishment. “think he can fuck you like this? hah, want everyone and that brat to know you’re mine.”

to prolong this type of behavior, you decide to instill delicious images in his head. “oh, how are you gonna show me off then? you’ve already done the hickeys. but what about a ring on my finger? or your cum out of me? or perhaps, a baby in me?”

oikawa pulls his fingers out when you’re nearing an orgasm. the impulse to buy a ring with his salary and propose you live, fuck you in the locker rooms to mark you with his cum, and knock you up so that guy can mind his damn business. he spends the entire night ramming his cock in you to make sure it takes.

“there you are! i had to ask one of your teammates where you were, but he’s so nice that i lost track.” oikawa is back at the court, dazed from his daydreaming. you didn’t notice him blanking out as you’re busy geeking out about his plays. “watching a match live was so exciting! i finally got to see your sets up close. one of the guys from the other team was your underclassman, right? i think he’s good too!”

he shuts you up with a kiss, and the audience reacts in a domino effect. the cameras pan to the two of you; his fans freak out that he is actually taken, and his teammates — as well as him — are in pure disbelief. you wonder why he did that. he looks proud of himself so you say nothing. “there. now the whole world knows.”

𝄞༉‧₊˚. HANAMAKI TAKAHIRO

begging, mutual masturbation, nipple play, phone sex, thoughts of oral sex (f!receiving), toxic relationships (with reader’s ex)

relief washes over him hearing that you broke up with ex over the phone. hanamaki never liked them to begin with, nor does he understand what you see in them. being the good friend he is, he remains civil, painfully. though it’s not as painful as suppressing his sinful thoughts about you squirming under touch, however.

“hey, makki. can you do me a favor?” he loves your voice. you saying his name is his greatest weakness. though it’ll be better to have you moan it in his ears when he rails you into a begging mess. now he feels guilty for harboring these feelings as he promised to only play as the ‘good friend’. but promises break eventually. “can you make me forget about them?”

the lines of friendship blur into indescribable tension. you express your frustration over lack of spice in your sex life, rambling about how badly you want to be fucked on someone’s mouth. the cries of your breasts and clit aching to be touched makes his cock to strain in his pants. sex isn’t a topic you confide in with your friends, but it does not matter now. you called him to forget after all.

“to tell you the truth, you’re driving me crazy,” he sighs with his head on the board while he pumps his length. labored breaths and whimpers are heard on your end. “what if i tell you i’m jerking off to you now, wishing i was inside that pretty pussy of yours? and what about you, wishing my mouth is there too and on your pretty tits to claim what has been mine in the first place?”

“i’m yours, always yours!” your whines turn into squeals, which has him cum on his hand. his body slumps over the edge of his bed, catching his breath alongside you. if you’re here, he would leave more proof that you are forever his with your ex nonexistent in your world. yet it’s all white noise. the entire time he has been spacing out, so you were waiting for an eternity for him to say something.

“hello? earth to makki?” hanamaki realizes the dried stickiness on his hand from his cum. he has been mindlessly jacking off to your voice. “i asked if you could do me a favor but i’d rather stop by your place to cool off. is it okay if i come over?”

“yeah. see you.” you thank him before hanging up. hanamaki tosses his phone away, contemplating what he has done. never, ever will he do this again and vows to not speak on it. all he can do is to maintain his role to comfort you through your breakup. he will do whatever it takes to prove he is indeed the better choice. there will be the day where you’re his for the taking.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. MATSUKAWA ISSEI

body worship, lap dance, lingerie, riding, sex toys (vibrator), strip tease, voyeurism

speechless is his reaction to you clad in lace lingerie. matsukawa develops a strong urge to impale you on his cock that is strained in his pants, just like how his arms are at the sides of his seat. for now he can only ogle at your body, a temptation for him to give into his desires, along with your alluring expressions.

the lingerie surprise tips him over the edge. he follows your fingers trail from your breasts to your clit, agonized by the drag of one of them along the lips back and forth. he grips his seat so hard he could feel the bones of his hands break. oh how he wants you so badly, but being the menace you are, you insist to stay patient until the end of your performance.

“not yet. keep your eyes on me.” you lift his chain to face you, with your mouth ghosting over his. how can he also enjoy the sight when you are torturing him with the sway of your hips, the flex of your thighs, and the bra straps hanging off your shoulders? and when you grind on his bulge with a vibrator in you which is your source of pleasure instead?

he finds himself matching your rhythm with an arm around your waist and the other cradling your head, kissing you as if his life depends on it. as clothes fly left and right, he yanks out your vibrator coated with your slick and finally plunges you onto him, having you seated for his show. how the tables have turned. now you’re the one being tortured, pounded with quick upward thrusts from him.

“now for the grand finale.” despite your protests to slow down, he wants to relish your body which is contorting in pleasure through the mirrors. a multitude of thrusts later, he reaches his climax and feels you clench, making sure you didn’t miss a single drop. it’s a shame that time goes by fast, because he sure wants to see your body arch for him over and over again.

“you know, it’s rude to stare without saying anything.” loud noises flood his ears. matsukawa is at the mall with you to help you buy new clothes to spice up your wardrobe. though when you mean by ‘spice up’, he does not expect to see you in lace lingerie at the fitting rooms. “so, uh… what do you think?”

matsukawa thinks that you may have a hidden agenda to seduce him, or just trying out the lingerie for fun. he marvels at how it suits your body, making you nervous. an idea pops into his head and whispers into the shell of your ear. “hm, not sure. why don’t you buy and put it on tonight for me so i can see it better?”

𝄞༉‧₊˚. IWAIZUMI HAJIME

aftercare, consent, insecurities, loss of virginity, missionary, petnames (baby), praise

sorry is your automatic reply when iwaizumi hints at wanting sex. you’re a virgin, so thoughts of being unable to satisfy someone experienced are rooted into your head. on the contrary, it’s a massive turn on. since it is your first time, he wants to make it extra special. he’s more excited than he should be so he tries to tone it down to not scare you.

you stare at him like a lost puppy as your partner reaches for your face. he smirks at how entranced you are when his fingers glide to your chin and then over your lips. he kisses you hard that you’re out of breath and pushes you to the bed. you begin to breathe normally again as he takes off his shirt, making his heart flutter, knowing that his body is for your eyes only.

“you can keep going,” you tell him when he checks up on you. with the slight encouragement of his hand drawing circles on your skin, you take off your shirt as well so he can explore more of your body. the two of you eventually strip yourselves bare while devouring each other with tongue and spit.

“squeeze if you want to stop.” your hand is intertwined with his, getting ready to signal for the sake of your safety. he penetrates you slowly, cock buried to the hilt inside, blabbering about how you’re taking him so well and swearing he’ll cum sooner than expected. the pitch of your moans is rising higher and higher. you hate how your sounds it seems by crashing your lips on his, but it tells him that he has done his job right.

“shit, baby. you’re absolutely perfect for me. how is this possible— agh,” iwaizumi hisses as he spills inside you. you’re now exhausted, sensitive from the caresses on your curves and kisses on your hands. this is what he would like to happen, however the next time he blinks, you’re lying beside him fully clothed.

“haji? you’re not saying anything.” you avert your gaze from his. you’re ashamed of literally pushing him away, believing that he’ll take offense judging from his silence. “i didn’t mean to do that. it happened so fast that i freaked out. can we start over and… start a little bit slower?”

“sure. let’s take things a little bit slower.” iwaizumi kisses your forehead to reassure you that you haven’t done anything wrong. somehow you’ve become bold, initiating the kiss and sneaking your hands under his shirt unconsciously. you retract from the sudden move, but he gestures to you to keep going. he’s so weak for you; he’ll do anything to make you happy.

#♪ .fics #♪ .nyxplicit #house of solis occasum #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #hanamaki takahiro x reader #matsukawa issei x reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader #oikawa x reader #hanamaki x reader #matsukawa x reader #iwaizumi x reader #haikyuu smut #hq smut

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sluttysnowangel666 · 5 days ago

Text

sweet like candy - choi su bong / thanos

pairings : thanos/ su bong x fem reader

summary/request : despite only a few insignificant interactions with thanos, he grows jealous when he sees you talking to an ex marine, dae ho.

warnings: jealous thanos, use of drugs, swearing, violence, ooc thanos bc he’s kinda nice most of the time except for when he’s jealous, lowkey sub thanos idk how it happened but bros a good boy😭, oral(f receiving), hand job, sex(p in v)

ngl this is not my best work unfortunately:( it just feels like i rushed too much at certain parts but i just didn’t want it to be too repetitive to other stories with too much detail when we all know how the games work. send me some requests, i wanna do au or write for thanos where the reader and him are outside of the games

not responsible for the content you consume, use discretion when reading past the border. 18+

“Señorita, excuse me.”

You turn, an eyebrow already raised at the strange pet name you’d just been called. It’s a tall, young ish man. You take in his appearance; his hair is a bright shade of purple, slender fingers painted like infinity stones, marked with dark tattoos, chunky rings, and a cross necklace.

You don’t respond, instead continuing to walk in the eerie room painted like the sky, with a giant doll at the other side.

You sigh, still confused at how you ended up here with 456 other people in ugly green tracksuits and millions, if not billions, of won in debt.

He raps you a song, also stating his name is Thanos, which you try to tune out but its mediocrity makes you stifle a laugh. He notices, and your sweet smile makes him smile.

“I like you.” He says, flashing you a little heart with his fingers. You roll your eyes, walking past him as he lingers on your trail.

A man runs out, player 456, you note. He begins screaming, saying the game was “Red Light, Green Light” and the doll was going to kill us if we moved. His reaction makes you nervous, his fear seemed so genuine.

“My dad comes home like this sometimes,” Thanos says, noticing your shift in demeanor. “Saying there’s bugs in the walls and his phone’s been tapped by the government.”

“Do you think the guy yelling is high?” You ask.

He smirks a little before answering, which doesn’t go unnoticed by you. “Fuck no.”

The game begins, and Thanos takes your hand. You go to pull away but his grip is tight.

“Let go.” You whisper, on a red light.

“Come on, señorita. Let’s stick together.” He whispers back.

Before you can respond, the girl in front of you starts screaming about a bee landing on her. She faces you both and laughs a little.

“Oh, shit. I just moved, didn’t I?”

Bang.

Blood splatters on you and Thanos’ face.

“Don’t scream.” He whispers, but even if you wanted to, you couldn’t. Your body is in shock, frozen. You grip his hand in return now, trying to hold your shaking.

More rounds continue, but neither of you move. That is until the man tells you to finish you have to be behind the doll. Thanos moves you behind him, and you press your head into his back with your eyes shut tight, gripping his jacket. He slowly moves, pulling you with him.

A woman reacts to the body, and an another shot goes off. Panic ensues, as people run and shots fire continuously. All you can hear is screaming and shooting.

During the next green light Thanos doesn’t move, but you feel him fidgeting around. Two rounds go by of this before he finally moves again.

He lurches forward, and you feel him go “Ding” as he pushes a group of people down. Three shots ring off, and during the next green light you let go of him. He doesn’t even notice, skipping and jumping and dancing during every green light.

In the end, you survive. Splattered in blood, yes, but alive nonetheless.

You avoid him after that, feeling unnerved by the way he played during the games. You noticed him sharing a pill with a guy later, which made his behavior in the game make sense to you.

You sat on your bed, your face buried in your knees as you rocked back and forth. The lights were out, everyone going to sleep but, how could you? After everything you saw?

You glanced up at the piggy bank, glowing gold

and filled with won.

———

The next game was about to begin.

You had been brought into a room, eerily similar to the one with the doll, except the room had rainbow tracks and pink suit men standing around it. They ordered you to get into teams of 5.

You wandered around, searching for a group of people who wouldn’t kill you for fun.

“Hi.”

You turned, facing a handsome dark haired man, his hair half tied up. He was neatly kept, carrying himself with confidence and grace, despite everything.

“Hi.” You respond, meekly.

“Would you like to join our group?” He motions to the 4 men behind him. Their faces are stoic, but they look friendly enough. You notice the one man on the team was the one who warned everyone about the last games. You accept their offer; it’s not like you really had a choice anyway. Besides, why not let them pity you if they felt sorry enough to offer you a spot? No one else was itching to have you on your team…

Or so you thought.

On the other side of the room, Thanos was searching for you to be in his group. He felt inclined to protect you now after the events of the first game. The drugs were fueling him into wanting to be the hero of your story. He was convinced he could you get out of here, and you would tell the world Thanos the Great saved you with a snap of his fingers. Besides, such a sweet face like yours? It would be such a waste for you to die somewhere so silly.

He finds you, in the sea of people, talking to another man.

He fumes with rage, the ecstasy making him react more uncontrollably than usual.

He bites his lip, all of his prior convictions now forgotten. Let the bitch die then, he thinks to himself.

The games start, and players drop like flies from the first groups alone.

Thanos’ team goes, and you can’t help but cheer when you see them play successfully. You jump up and down, laughing and clapping at their win.

Thanos locks his eyes on yours, noticing your childlike joy at his win. It makes him strangely prideful, makes him forget why he was so mad at you in the first place.

He bows to you, like a musician after a performance. You blush a little, smiling at him, forgetting why he scared you in the first place.

Your team is last, and you’re up first playing ddakji. Your whole team plays successfully, and you survive another round of the games.

You go back to your bunks, Dae Ho wrapping a friendly and comforting arm around you as you both walk. You sit with your group, eating and laughing while you slowly forget the chaos around you.

Thanos watched it all play out with Dae Ho again. His palms were sweaty the whole time, hoping you’d survive and walk back into that room. The second you walked back through the door alive, his eyes were on you.

“Are you good?” Nam Gyu asks Thanos, noticing his eyes constantly following you.

“I don’t know what the fuck are you talking about.” Thanos spits, defensively. He takes another pill, needing the courage for his next move.

“Let me have one.” Nam Gyu begs. Thanos reluctantly hands one over.

Nam Gyu takes it with haste, as Thanos stands and makes his way towards you. He quickly gets up and follows his friend, ready for whatever fight may come.

Each time you laugh at Dae Ho, Thanos picks his pace up a little faster. He’s convinced that it’s like with each laugh that slips past your honey coated lips, then the closer Dae Ho is to getting to taste them. He sways his body unnaturally as he walks, wanting to appear more bad ass than he really felt.

“What the fuck are you doing?” He says as he approaches you.

“Thanos.” You say, a warning in your voice to leave you alone.

“You good, bro?” Dae Ho asks.

“Why the fuck are you talking to my girl?” He addresses Dae Ho now. You and Dae Ho both scoff in disbelief, but this is how your reaction played out in Thanos’ mind.

They both laugh

“Dae Ho, you’re so funny.”

“Well, you’re sexy.”

“Let’s make out and fuck right here in front of Thanos.”

“Whatever you say, beautiful.”

He reaches his hand out, grabbing you by your jacket and yanking you to your feet.

“Thanos!” You yell. Dae Ho and In Ho stand up to diffuse the situation. Before they can even intervene, you land a closed fist to Thanos’ eye.

He backs away, holding it as a little cut forms.

“Crazy bitch.” He says. He points at Dae Ho. “You stay away from her.”

“Fuck off.” You yell at Thanos. He backs away, still facing you and nodding his head in anger. His face reads This isn’t over.

“You okay?” Dae Ho asks. You nod, slightly breathless.

The way Thanos grabbed you was rude,

unnecessary,

controlling…

and hot.

You wanted to kick yourself for feeling so attracted to him in that moment. He was mentally unstable, high; everything that could be wrong with a man, he was.

Yet here you were, yearning for a piece of him just as he yearned for you.

Later that night, you couldn’t sleep in your bunk. You were stressed with nerves, with the thought that each next day could be your last. You tapped your foot relentlessly against the frame of the bed, until a person above you made a threat.

You sighed, getting up and walking to the door to be let to the bathroom.

You washed your face again for what was probably the 15th time, feeling like the blood was still on you.

You didn’t even hear the door, didn’t hear him walk up behind you, didn’t notice he was there until his hands were on your hips.

You gasped, turning with your fist, ready to make a collision; but Thanos was quicker than you this time, catching your wrist before you could seal the hit.

“Whoa.” He said, “Relax, girl.”

“What are you doing in here?” You yelled at him. He shushed you, making a tcht tcht tcht sound.

“You embarrassed me out there.” He said, tilting his head to show you his bruised eye.

“You? How about you yanking me to my feet in a room full of people?”

He says nothing, but he smirks at you.

“You’re just so pretty. How am I supposed to sit back and watch my girl flirt with other men?”

You sigh, rolling your eyes. “Is that what you think I am?”

“It’s what I know you are.” He says lowly, his hand resting against your throat. “You’re mine.”

“I’m not yours. You don’t ask, you just take from people. You’re a bully.”

“What are we, kids on a school yard? I’m a bully?” He steps closer than he already was, pressing himself into you.

“Yes.” You whisper out.

“Quiet now, aren’t we?” He teases, his voice low.

“If you’re gonna kill me, just fucking do it.” You say.

He laughs loudly, “Kill you? Get serious, girl.”

“Then what do you want?”

“You.”

You say nothing. Your hands are pressed against the counter top of the sink, and his body is pressed against yours. Chest to chest, you have nowhere to go.

“Move.” You say. Your eyes are locked, and you feel like prey being tortured by predator. Tortured in the way he’s doing nothing, just staring you down. He doesn’t budge still.

You grab him by his collar, pulling his face inches from yours.

“Move.” You say again, your voice pleading.

He notices. You’re not pleading him to move because of fear, you’re pleading for him to move because of lust.

His fingers trail up your arm, then trace your jaw to pull your chin up. He laces his fingers through your hair, pulling you so that your lips are on his.

He didn’t expect you to kiss him the way you did, it took him by such surprise, which he dared never admit because he was almost never surprised. But the way you grabbed his collar, trying to pull him so deep into you that you both might collapse into each other like stars.

“Where’d this come from?” He asks breathlessly, barely able to break away from you to get the question out.

“Can you just shut up?” You say quickly, pulling him back into you.

“As my queen commands.” He says, matching your ferocity with the kiss.

Both of his hands rest on your cheeks while he kisses you, but you take one and slowly push it down to your sweats.

“Why so eager?” He asks, breathlessly.

“You’re talking too much.” You say, pushing him off you. “Get on your knees.”

He scoffs, shocked. “Are you serious?”

You nod, and so he listens. He kisses down your body, tugging on your sweats when he’s on his knees. He kisses your thighs, mumbling sweet nothings about your body that were too soft to hear.

“Thanos-“

“Su Bong.” He corrects you, needing to hear you moan his real name.

“Su Bong, please don’t tease me.” You whine, so he concedes. Lifting up your leg onto his shoulder so he can kiss and lick and suck every part of you. You whine, pulling his purple tufts of hair.

“You are so sweet,” He whispers. “Sweet like candy.”

“Oh, my boy.” You moan, egging him on. His nails grip into your thighs unintentionally. He’s just so desperate for you, desperate to taste every drop.

Your nails dig into his forearm, scratching for release.

“Please, oh, please, Su Bong.”

He looks up at you, pupils dilated like the size of black holes. You throw your head back, grinding your hips into his mouth, chasing your release.

You pull his hair harshly, and he digs his nails into your thighs even more as you release. You cry out, repeating his name like a prayer, and he moans into you, fueling your release. He doesn’t miss a drop.

He comes off you, breathless. He sets your leg down, pulling your sweats back up as he stands.

You stare at each other, both of you panting in silence for a few moments. You sneak your hand down, resting it against his hard crotch. You smirk a little, and he mirrors it.

“I think I love you.” He moans as you rub him.

“I think you’re high.” You respond, and he laughs and nods. He leans down to kiss you again, gentler this time.

“Do you want one?” He asks, nodding to his necklace. You hesitate, but end up shaking your head no.

“I think we should head back.” You whisper, still rubbing him. He shakes his head no, moaning into your neck. He grips your jacket in desperate agony.

“I need you so bad.” He finally admits.

“Fine.” You fold, and he’s ever so quick to pull your sweats back down. He unhooks one of your legs from the pants, pulling it up so he can rest it around his hips as he pushes his sweats down just slightly so he can insert himself into you.

So, there you both are. Standing with one leg hooked around him and absolutely gripping the sink as he thrusts into you relentlessly. You don’t even try to hide your moans, throwing your head back in euphoria as Thanos buries his face in your neck with shameful whimpers. You grip onto whatever part of him you can for support. Your back is slamming into the edge of the sink over and over, surely leaving a bruise on your tailbone.

He kisses and sucks on your neck, leaving dark bruised purple hickeys on every inch. Marking you, so that you knew who you belong to and so that everyone else out there knew too.

His thrusts were relentless, and the angle he fucked you was crucial, hitting into your cervix each time. Your hands pushed on his hips, resisting his movements slightly, which only fueled him more.

“Stop it.” He moans.

“You stop, you’re being so rough.” You whimper.

“This is me being gentle,” He says. “You want something less than this, then I better not ever catch you speaking to another man again.”

You moan in defeated acceptance, grasping at his shoulders instead for balance. His perfect thrusts make you leak all over him, his pants soaked with your juices.

“You’re so wet.” He moans. “I think you’re gonna make me cum.”

You tighten around him, sending him into a frenzy. His hands tighten their hold on your thighs, and you yank him by the collar to pull his lips onto yours.

“Fuck, I’m cumming, oh please.” You beg him, between kisses.

“I’ve got you.” He manages to get out, holding you as you let out the most heavenly cry. Your moans send him over, and he pulls out to spill himself all over your cunt.

He smears it on your folds with his hands, and you smack his chest, giving him a push off you while he laughs at your irritability.

“You’re such a dick.” You say, wiping yourself with a paper towel from the dispenser. He kisses your neck with a smirk.

“Come lay with me when you’re done.” He says, walking out of the bathroom.

You roll your eyes, cleaning yourself up before walking out.

You re enter the bunks, searching the room for his bed. He’s in a lower ish one, laying down with hands resting behind his head and his eyes blissfully closed. Your eyes move back and forth between his bed and your empty one, until your feet start moving before your mind can even decide.

He doesn’t even open his eyes when you crawl in beside him. He just wraps his arm around you, kissing your temple as you both drift off to sleep,

both of you blissfully unaware of the horrors of tomorrow’s game…

Part 2?

#choi su bong #choi seung hyun #t.o.p #t.o.p bigbang #thanos squid game #thanos smut #thanos #squid game #squid game thanos #thanos x reader #nam gyu #gi hun squid game #squid games

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