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xzaddyzanakinx · 8 months ago

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Not That Kind of Guy

Part Seven: Stalker!Anakin Skywalker × femme reader series

Warnings: stalking, weirdo behavior, psychotic/delusional behavior, possessive/protective, sexism/misogyny, sexual content/fantasizing, pervy behavior, panty/scent kink, mask kink (Ghostface), gaslighting/manipulation[Be sure to pay attention to future warnings in the series]

Info: Anakin is perfect boyfriend material. He’s also insane, but that’s okay. He’s thinkin’ some thoughts [diary entries from Ani AND you] extremely not proofread. MDNI 18+

Diary Entry: July 14th

You’d better be so fucking glad that I’m not insane.

I offered you my weapon and you didn’t take it. You have zero self preservation skills, your fight or flight response is so low that it concerns me. You’re worse than a opossum, instead of playing dead you play pretend that it’s normal to have a home intruder with a knife in your bedroom.

You didn’t even attempt to get up and run, not that you could’ve. You wouldn’t have made it more than two steps without collapsing. You could hardly speak, slurring your words like a drunken fool.

You didn’t even call anyone after I left. Didn’t text anyone. Didn’t get out of bed until 1:00pm this morning. If I didn’t have the audio on full blast all night I would’ve busted back in and made sure you were still breathing.

Honestly I’m alittle jealous.

Stupid I know, to be jealous of myself. But you didn’t know it was me. Yet you still let me sit there, you let me talk to you, you let me scratch your head like a good little girl.

Did you really believe it was all a dream?

Do you remember it today?

Can you feel my hands on your skin? Can you taste my cum on your lips?

Did you know it was me?

Date

July 14th

You woke up groggy, way, way past the normal time your internal alarm clock jolts you awake. Disoriented wouldn’t even begin to describe how you felt right now. This was a feeling like nothing you’d ever experienced before.

Unlike last night when your mind was refusing to kick off the blanket of sleep while your body could scarcely react… now your mind was wide awake and running rapidly while your body was aching and not properly calibrated.

You’d been so utterly relaxed during your deep sleep that your muscles got the rest they’d been searching so desperately for your entire life. You felt loose, rested and smooth while also feeling as though you’d been stomped to a pulp by a stampede of angry cattle.

Your head felt swimmy, your lungs felt like they’d been working too hard. Your eyes still couldn’t fully focus either, so it was no surprise that you stumbled clumsily to the kitchen and spilled coffee grounds all over the counter.

You rested your forehead against your folded arms on the counter top, needed a moment to rest your eyes from the harsh lighting. The pounding in your head traveled from one side to the other, keeping a continuous presence behind your sensitive eyes. The moment of silence, well, it gave you time to think.

You had wanted so badly to believe last night was nothing but a weird ass dream, it wouldn’t have been the first time.

But your hopes were squashed when you woke up and saw your diary on the edge of your bed. Even the air felt disturbed, like your room itself was letting you know that it wasn’t all in your head.

He had said he wouldn’t hurt you and you believed him.

He didn’t hurt you.

But if not… why drug you? Was he planning on it and you’d interrupted his plans? Though being a kind, caring, crazy person he backed off instead of forcing you to endure whatever he decided for you while you were awake?

Or had you caught him after the deed had been done?

That ache. That horrible longing in your gut that just refused to go away… was gone. Not dulled, not in hibernation. You felt satisfied and sated.

He said he didn’t hurt you… maybe he just...

You shoved your thoughts into a corner and taped the box shut. That was absolutely sick, you cannot think that way. You can’t. What the hell is wrong with you? You shouldn’t be okay with that.

You should cry. You should scream and wail and cry and throw up.

But how could you be disgusted by a man that had taken away the yearning that had been so deeply rooted within you for so long? Maybe… maybe he didn’t even touch you like that.

Maybe whatever drug he’d given you had somehow flipped the reset switch.

“Sure.” You whispered to yourself, leaning against the countertop. “Sure, that’s all it is. Just that.”

“I have no reason to doubt him. If he wanted to hurt me he would’ve done it. I caught him, if he was truly a terrible person he probably would’ve killed me.” You reasoned with yourself.

“He just came to say hello.” You put your face in your hands, breathing deeply. “Yep. Yep. Yep. That’s all.”

You chose to ignore that fact that your panties were glued to your cunt that morning.

Conveniently over looked the obvious hickey on your left breast.

Pretended not to notice the taste of something salty in the corner of your mouth.

That’s all in your head. He didn’t do that, you didn’t feel sore. You would feel that wouldn’t you? You would’ve woken up right?

‘Right. I would’ve felt it. I would’ve woken up. So it was a dream. Yes.’ You nodded resolutely in agreement with your inner voices.

Some guy dressed as Ghostface was not in your bedroom.

You got out your diary to write about your night at the bar and how wonderful it was, and you fell asleep before you could put your pen to the paper.

Someone slipped something in your drink and it made you sleep very soundly. Someone who didn’t get the chance to take advantage because your two best friends walked you home.

Your subconscious knew that’s what happened and it made all that other stuff up. It’s time to reevaluate your bookshelf. No more dark romance. It’s turned your brain to mush.

Anakin. You should go ask Anakin to review the footage from the bar security cameras. Put your mind at ease that no one had even attempted to follow you home. Maybe you’ll see that no one even drugged you in the first place and you just have one hell of a hangover and an overactive imagination.

First things first though, scoop up those spilled coffee grounds and dump them into the filter. The water gets hot enough, it’ll be fine.

Absentmindedly grabbing your new hello kitty mug, you failed to notice the slip of paper inside until you almost poured creamer over it.

You quickly snatched it up and unfolded it.

‘Sleep well?’

——————————————————————————

“Anakin!” You banged on his front door and he answered relatively quickly.

He appeared in a pair of flannel checkered pajama pants and a short sleeved white shirt, socked feet and messy hair.

“I’m not picking my nose I swear, I’m changing my nose ring.” He grinned, one finger in his left nostril while he screwed on the ball to a new black steel ring, replacing the previous plain stainless steel one.

“M’sorry I didn’t mean to-“

“No worries baby, what’s up?” He asked, running a hand through his hair before shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Can you do me a favor please?” You asked, eyebrows furrowed.

“Of course, what’d you need princess?” He asked, his face full of sympathy. “Wanna come in? We can chat.”

He didn’t wait for you to answer, he simply stepped aside and held the door open, lifting that arm slightly so he could usher you underneath his arm and into his apartment.

“Need a drink or anything?” He asked, thumbing toward the fridge.

When you shook your head he gently grasped one of your elbows and brought you to the couch, he kneeled on one knee and held both your hands with his. He looked up at you like he was studying the most delicate piece of artwork on earth.

“What’s going on doll?” He whispered, tucking a hair behind your ear, “you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Your eyes flashed at his lips quickly, and widened slightly, but you shook your head.

‘If only you knew.’ You thought, your inner voice giving a mirthless laugh.

“N-no.” You sighed. “Is there anyway you can convince your boss to let me look through the security footage from the bar last night?”

“Yeah sure, I doubt he’d care.” Anakin shrugged. “Why? Did you lose something?”

“Um no.” You said, contemplating on telling him your story, no matter how stupid it might make you look.

“You can tell me anything sweetheart.” Anakin cooed.

“It’s just… I think maybe someone slipped something in my drink last night.”

“You think someone drugged you?” He repeated, his hands tightening around yours.

“Well I don’t know for sure!” You said quickly. “I just woke up feeling weird and dizzy… n’ well I don’t know it doesn’t matter.”

“I’ll make sure we get that footage okay?” He promised, pulling you into his chest and smoothing your hair down your back.

You didn’t speak, you just let him pet you for a moment. The thought of telling him what had actually happened scared you. It made your stomach flip, twist into knots and yank your guts so tightly that you thought you’d never be able to eat again.

He’d think you’re nuts. He’d think you’re a liar. He’d think you wrote that note yourself. He… what would he do? If he believed you? Would he call the cops? Get angry at you for not doing it yourself?

You were vaguely aware of Anakin speaking to you and once he realized you weren’t comprehending a single word, he stopped. He leaned back to look at your face where it rested against his chest.

“Babydoll?” He said worriedly, waving his hand in front of your face to get your attention. “What’s got you all tore up?” He asked in a whisper.

You shook your head, hoping to scramble your thoughts back into order.

“It’s nothing, I just…” You breathed deeply, realizing only now that you’d started to cry.

The safety you felt with Anakin had allowed you to feel these confused feelings in a closed and controlled environment. You chided yourself for thinking he’d react offensively, you may as well just tell him. At least part of it… right?

“Hey, princess.” He said, his voice tinged with a worried kind of uncertainty. “You’re kinda scaring me, I need you to talk to me baby.” He whispered softly.

“I think someone broke into my house last night.” You blurred out suddenly, your words surprising yourself. The moment they left your lips the words caused you to shudder, eyes watering, staring at Anakin like a poor hopeless little kitten on an ASPCA commercial.

“What do you mean someone broke into your house?” He asked sternly, his hands firm on your shoulders.

“I don’t know. Maybe I imagined it.” You said embarrassedly.

“I checked all over the apartment this morning and can’t seem to find out how they got in. I just remember someone being there.” You added, biting your lip as you picked at the skin on your fingers.

“Do you want me to go look?” He asked softly. “You can stay right here, I’ll go look if you want.”

“Really?” You sniffled. “Will you?”

“Of course.” He soothed, cupping your face with both hands and wiping the remnants of your tears away. “You stay put. I’ll be right back.”

Anakin grabbed a thick Sherpa blanket…

Sherpa blanket? He has a Sherpa blanket? Hot. A man with good taste in throw blankets is a man worth pursuing.

He covered you up and patted your head, his fingers stalling momentarily as he gave you a wide-eyed, quizzical look as though he might ask you something or maybe had an odd thought. But, you could see him internally shaking whatever it was that crossed his mind away.

“I’ll be back in a sec okay?” He said, walking to his front door and shutting it with a click behind him.

Anakin walked into your apartment and idly stood in the kitchen, thinking to himself and wondering just how much you remembered. Boogie purred and looped around at his feet so he scooped her up and held her like a baby while pacing the room.

“What should I do? Hmm?” He asked, scratching beneath her chin.

“You have great advice usually.” He muttered. “C’mon… I- fuck.” He groaned.

“I can’t just ask her can I?” He huffed. “No, I can’t.”

“I’ll just… offer to put up some cameras,” he chuckled to himself. “Easy. It’ll make her feel better huh?”

“Thanks… good kitty.” He said giving her a peck on the head before sitting her on the kitchen counter and walking back to his apartment.

He popped his head around the corner to see you still sitting exactly where he left you.

“Good news is: there isn’t anyone there now.” He said with a sympathetic smile. “I can’t find any evidence of a break-in…”

“I know!” You said, exasperatedly throwing your hands up.

“Hush.” He said sternly. “Just because I didn’t find anything, doesn’t mean it didn’t happen okay?”

He doesn’t believe you. He doesn’t believe that your space had been invaded, that your sanctuary had been tainted. But, he believes that you believe it was. And that’s enough of a reason for him to play along for your peace of mind. Within reason of course. He’s not confirming your fears, he’s leaving it open ended but putting up a gate to keep it in check. He’s protecting you from yourself and your own anxiety.

Too bad he’s wrong. Although it’s real sweet that he’s trying.

“Okay.” You blushed at his change in tone, like he was speaking to a child having a tantrum.

You didn’t fully understand why, but every time he did that, it made your stomach flip- in a good way. It was… strangely comforting? Maybe? Or maybe it was just hot, either way you weren’t complaining in the slightest.

“Do you want me to set up a security system for you? Some cameras or?” He offered, sitting next to you and opening his arms which you quickly leaned into.

“Cameras?” You echoed, why hadn’t you thought to put those in when you moved in? You’re a girl, living alone, in a less-safe area of town.

“Yeah.” He nodded. “Would that make you feel better?”

“I don’t know… maybe just those window and door alarms?” You suggested. “You know the ones that make that horrible screeching sound when they’re armed and someone tries to open the door?”

“Yes.” He chuckled. “I know exactly what you’re talking about.”

“I had one on the back garden gate at my moms house.” He said, smoothing out your hair.

“Really? Why?” You asked.

“Cause she thought I was sneaking out.” He chuckled.

“Were you?”

“Yes.” He laughed. “I just wanted to go smoke with my friend who lived in the same subdivision as us. Apparently she’d been hearing the gate open and shut.”

“She was never one for confrontation, so I guess scaring the shit out of me was her way of telling me to stop sneaking out to smoke pot.” He smirked. “I screamed, like a real actual scream. Sounded like a little girl.”

“Oh poor you.” You laughed, looking up at him as you giggled. “My parents never found out I snuck out.” You said teasingly.

“Oh really? What were your methods?” He snorted.

“Well, we didn’t have a fence first of all.” You said. “Second, I was on the ground floor and my bedroom window didn’t have a screen in it.”

“Mmm.” He nodded, his chest rising and falling methodically. “Smart.”

“Yep.” You smiled. “So how bad did you get in trouble?”

“Trouble? None.” He chuckled, leaning back to look at you. “I was momma’s pride and joy, I could do no wrong. She just gave me a warning, unspoken. But still very, very loud.”

“Oh so what you’re saying is she let you get away with it huh?” You laughed.

“Pretty much.” He smiled, pausing for a moment. “So is that what you want then?”

“Yeah… I think I’d rather have those. Maybe it’ll scare ‘em off and make ‘em scream like a little bitch, like you.” You teased, trying to lighten the mood.

“Oh baby, you wound me.” He sighed. “Guess you’ll have to find someone else to install them for you, huh?”

“What?” You sat up and furrowed your eyebrows in confusion.

“What?” He said mockingly. “You really want a little bitch installing your security system? My little girly hands just won’t get the job done.” He teased.

Little girly hands? Little girly hands?

Those hands were anything but little, everything masculine. Strong and firm. Long fingers that would lace perfectly in yours, those same fingers would feel at home between your…

“Fine, I take it back.” You said quickly, pulling yourself from your dirty thoughts. You couldn’t seriously be drooling over those veined hands while discussing your potential house invasion.

“Good girl.” He grinned. “I’ll order them for you okay?” He said, brushing his knuckle against your cheek.

“Thank you.” You sighed in relief, ignoring the shiver his touch sent through you.

“No problem princess.” He said softly.

Diary Entry: July 14th

God I feel so… conflicted.

I never feel conflicted when it comes to you. It’s so strange, this feeing. It’s like I’m being pulled in two directions.

I love you. So much baby.

I love the way you felt in my arms today. I loved the way you let me hold you, comfort you. We have such a good connection. Such a normal, real, blossoming relationship.

But I’ve went and made things complicated haven’t I?

I should’ve waited. I should’ve been more careful. I should’ve sucked it up and just watched through the cameras and kept my hands to myself. I have patience, I should’ve used it.

It’s just… you’re so tempting.

You love it. Whether you know it or not, I know it. I see it, hear it, taste it. You need me. Conscious and consenting or unconscious and oblivious. Either way, you need me.

So it’s really not my fault. I might’ve thrown the snowball that’s triggered the avalanche, but you’re not running from it. You’re letting it drag you under and doing it with a blush and blissful smile.

Ghostface has thrown an unexpected but possibly very interesting wrench in my plans. You reacted so strangely. I can’t stop thinking about it. It’s eating me alive inside, the way you just… accepted it. It’s amazing.

Truly, it’s astonishing. This side of yourself that you’ve kept locked away and hidden from view, maybe even hidden from yourself until now. Do you have a Pit too? Did that surprising reaction crawl out of the depths of your enigmatic mind?

It’s a mystery to me. One I will never crack, it drives me nuts. Knowing that there’s a truly unsolvable puzzle in front of me, I can pick and pick and pick, but I’ll never find all the pieces. You’re too smart, too clever, too perfect. Why would your mind maze be any different?

What have you got hidden in there? In that one place I can’t break into? The one part of yourself you can hide from me?

I’ve gotten a taste, a small one. Lightly salted, hardly seasoned thoughts sprawled on the pages of your diary. No one, not even me, writes everything down. There are things that will stay locked away in my mind, never to be spoken or written. I’m sure you have those things too. Probably not anywhere near as… depraved as mine. But strange and unusual enough that you’d never willingly allow anyone to learn.

As much as I hate that I can’t read your mind, I love it too. That hidden side of yourself that is only for you. It’s something I’m not sure that you would ever show me, not even when you’ve finally fallen in love with me. Not even when we’re too old to care about anything but our happiness… I don’t think you’d share it then either.

That’s a shame. It really is.

But you might share that side of yourself with Ghostface.

I know you.

I know you well enough to realize that the fawn who timidly, but let their curiosity guide them to speak with Ghostface is not the same doe that blinks up at Anakin with adoration.

You. Are. So. Much. Like. Me.

Anakin looks at you with a sense of love, pure and unfiltered. He wants the best for you because he cares so deeply. He wants to keep you safe and warm and forever happy. Because that’s his duty as a loving and caring partner. Your protector and provider.

Ghostface looks at you with love yes, but also obsession and deeply rooted perversion. An infatuation so strong that he’d shed gallons of blood just to get to you. He wants the best for you, in his own way. He wants to keep you safe while giving you the danger he knows that you crave. He wants to keep you warm by feeding the flame of your own twisted little fantasies. The ones so dark you won’t even write them in your diary. He wants to keep you forever happy too, just not in the traditional sense.

And if he gets to have his own fun along the way… well, we both know I’m a fan of killing two birds with one stone. Of course Ghostface would have some mutually beneficial, selfishly planned ideas too, right? He’s unafraid to be what Anakin tries to keep hidden.

Maybe we can have both? Separately… at least for a little while.

You can have us both.

We can have the fawn and doe.

That could be fun. I think I’d like that. You’re just perfect, you’re so perfect. I never would’ve imagined I would be lucky enough to find someone who was as fucked in the head as me. The theory is of course untested, but I have a feeling that I’m right. I think you’ll love Ghostface just as much as you love Anakin.

Because I love the fawn just as much as I love the doe.

The doe that blinks up at me like it’s been caught in the high beams of a truck. The doe that is clever enough to carry on a good banter with me. Sweet and kind and gentle. That’s the recipe for the perfect little deer, they’re such a gentle animal. Soft.

Just like you. They bed down in the softest grass, nest themselves up in a way that keeps them hidden and safe. You do the same, all those stuffed animals and the ridiculously thick and fluffy comforter you sleep under.

They’re smart. They can be sneaky and quiet if they need to be. They have hard and dangerous hooves if they truly need to use them. So do you, but you’ve proven that just like a doe, you’d rather return to the safety of your nest instead of bucking up to kick your problems square in the chest.

Even though they’re smart enough to know they’re prey, they’re too sweet, too pure to believe anyone could have bad intentions. That’s why the bucks have antlers. Sharp and precise, ready to clash into whatever threatens his doe, head first.

Sound familiar?

Then there’s the fawn. The you I’ve only just begun to know. Tiny, meek, fragile. A bleat so small and unsure that it’s comical, like the way you spoke to Ghostface.

They cower, hide. Walk on unsteady legs that cause them to flounder when they’re nervous. They get overconfident; leaping and running on those lanky limbs and regretting it when they fall to their knees, legs folded beneath them and calling out for their protector.

They have those innocent doe eyes all the time, not just when caught off guard. Like the you that Ghostface met. So curious and wrongfully trusting. They don’t realize danger until it’s too late, they’re just exploring the world around them and suddenly they’re gone.

That’s why it’s important that you stay within arms reach of me. That’s why I watch you so closely. That’s why you need me.

They’re so easily taken advantage of; the purity, the innocence, it’s a recipe for disaster if it’s left to develop on its own. But when it’s nurtured? Well cared for? Allowed to roam within reason? In the safety of the net it’s protector has spread out for them?

Well, they’ll blossom. Just like you. You’re so eager to learn and soak up all the knowledge you’ve been so curious about, but too afraid to seek out on your own.

Ghostface can help with that. He’ll keep you safe while giving you the room to explore. He’ll allow you to think that you’re independently experiencing a new world, even though he’s the one who’s crafting it for you.

What a surprise it’ll be when we tell you we’re the same guy. It’ll be your dream come true huh? Sweet and tender boyfriend material, bring home to momma, respectful and gentle Anakin. With a side of… well controlled obsession motivated lunacy.

See? I’m self aware. Crazy people don’t know they’re crazy. I’m not a psycho, I’m. Not. That. Kind. Of. Guy.

But Ghostface is.

I love you. You love me. We can just merge the four of us together. Fours a crowd but twos a party or some shit like that.

Date

July 19th

Anakin waltzed into your apartment and locked the door behind him. In his break and enter self imposed uniform. No mask though, he just had it tucked under his arm just incase. He liked to be prepared, especially after you’d surprised him by waking up when he’d so carefully planned for you to do the opposite.

He scooped up Boogie for company, went to your bedroom and locked the door behind him. He kicked off his shoes and climbed into your bed, staying standing to adjust the camera above your bed. He needed to uncover that lens. No reason to suffer with just the audio anymore, not when he had a perfectly good excuse that you were semi aware of now.

With task one complete he propped up his phone against one of your many stuffies to have the background noise of one of the shows he’s finally getting around to watching: Narcos. He can understand the hype around it when it was first released now and kind of wishes he’d sucked it up and jumped on the bandwagon to watch it with everyone else in the world back then.

With his work area set up he reached under your mattress with one long arm and pulled out your diary. He’d been impatiently waiting for you to formulate some questions and he’d hear you speaking to yourself about it the night before.

So he cracked open the little pink book and pulled out the red ink pen he’d brought along.

It just wouldn’t be as fun to use one of your cutesy little gel pens or just a plain old black one. But it would be fun to add just a dash more intimidation into the scenario.

It’s a proven fact that red is an uneasy color for humans. It’s one of those things that never fully went away when people developed past the primitive brain. Most people don’t even realize it, but studies show that red ink really does affect the brain. It’s very subtle but it’s still there. The mind is a strange place.

Red bad, blood red, scary.

That’s why all good horror movies have the killers write in red ink… or just straight up blood. It’s unsettling.

Anakin leaned back and got comfortable, flipping through the pages to read the few entries that he hadn’t yet, before moving on to the main course, a page titled: Answer Me

——————————————————————————

Your Diary Entry: Answer Me

Do I know you? If I don’t then who are you?

We’ve met.

Nice try, you’re not getting that out of me yet. Bold of you to ask though, I like that.

Just call me Ghost.

I’m sure that I know you, why else would you hide your voice?

Clever girl.

What do you look like?

You saw me. I didn’t realize you needed glasses.

Do appearances mean that much to you? Well, here’s what I look like under the mask:

Funny, huh?

Why me?

I don’t have enough room in this book to answer this question sweetheart.

So I’ll shorten it: you’re perfect, precious… and I love you because of it.

How did we meet?

You’re really confident that you’ve met me. It would’ve been embarrassing if you were wrong.

I saw you, you saw me. That’s how most people meet isn’t it?

Will you come back?

I’d have to be dead to be kept from you, even then you’d never be without me.

The afterlife is just a step behind the living.

It’d be fun to try out that poltergeist stuff anyway, don’t you think?

How did you get in? I checked and had a friend check… no sign of forced entry.

I know. I saw you both.

Not too long ago, you left your window unlocked. My main goal is to keep you safe and happy, you can’t be safe with an open window easily accessible by a fire escape. So I climbed in and closed it for you.

Have you looked for your spare key lately? I know where it is. It’s in my pocket. On my keychain.

How long have you been watching me?

I like the way you asked this. Not ‘how long have you been doing this’, not ‘how many times have you broken in’.

I’ve been watching you for quite a while now. Long enough that you should’ve definitely noticed by now. Just another reason you need me to protect you. You’ve been completely oblivious.

Go to the next page for the rest of this. I have more to say; you need a lecture.

Hello again, let’s continue shall we?

You’re utterly hopeless in the way of self awareness and keeping watch of your surroundings.

I walk you to and from work nearly everyday.

I sat on your fire escape every night for weeks, to watch you fall asleep on the couch, watching your little shows.

I’ve been to your sisters house, I’ve been to the library to see who is in your book club, I’ve even been to the gym with you.

You never noticed. That’s… forgivable. I’ve been very good at keeping myself hidden, ie. all the times I laid on top of the roof next door to watch you sleep through your bedroom window. But that was before I started visiting your home.

(Have you noticed that those curtains stay closed now? I always shut them for you because you’re forgetful.)

But you know what isn’t forgivable? Everything I’ve done inside your home that you’ve never noticed.

Sweetheart, I love you. I really do. But god you’d probably die without someone around to hold your hand. Haven’t you noticed that certain things seem to be growing into less of a chore and more of a manageable task?

I know that you have, but you thought it was all you, all on your own.

I’ve been making sure your favorite mugs are washed. I’ve been vacuuming because you never do it enough. I’ve been taking out the bathroom trash on the off occasion because I know you hate doing it.

I replace things for you. This one really gives me a giggle.

You’ve been using the same bottle of Persil laundry detergent for almost two months. Ever wondered why it stays half full? No?

Your favorite cereal never runs out either.

You’re adorable, so clueless.

It’s all helpful things sweetheart. No worries, I’m not just some weirdo creep. I do actually care about you and your well-being too. I love you.

You haven’t missed a single birth-control pill since I’ve been setting it out for you.

You’ve been sleeping so much better, in your own bed where you should be, because of that yummy SleepyTime tea. It’s nice to wake up feeling rested isn’t it?

I did my research, remember when you felt real down a while back? That’s when I started setting out your medicine and giving you that tea. I read that it was probably a hormone imbalance because you’re too forgetful to take your pill consistently.

I like to help, I want to help. It makes life easier for you and that’s what’s most important. That’s what a man should do, take care of the one he loves, keep her happy, safe and loved. I’m dedicated to you. I want you to know that.

Anyway, I’m getting sidetracked and you have more questions to be answered my curious girl.

If you didn’t plan on hurting me, why did you drug me, why did you bring a knife?

Valid question.

Am I being watched ALL the time?

No, I’m not a psycho. You deserve privacy, I’ve never peeked in on you in the bathroom in any capacity. I don’t always watch you in your bedroom. But I do listen. I like to hear you snore, it’s like ASMR.

I’ve never accidentally seen you naked if that what you’re asking. It’s always on purpose.

Why haven’t you made yourself known? Why no weird calls or notes or anything? Isn’t that a thing stalkers do?

No. It’s not. At least not for me.

I don’t want to freak you out. Leaving weird calls and notes would scare you. That’s the last thing I want.

I’ll start, let you get the full experience lol.

(Not creepy shit though I promise.)

What do you get out of watching me sleep? Have you touched me?

You’re beautiful, peaceful, angelic. It’s just nice to be in your presence. It’s calming in a way. Like how grandmas knit to wind down in the afternoon. Kinda like that I guess.

Maybe.

Are there cameras here?

Yes. But not everywhere, like I said, you deserve privacy.

They’re here for security reasons, but also because it sucks to sit in the rain on a fire escape. My ass would get frozen to the metal grate when it was cold.

I don’t use them for what you think though.

Will you ever tell me who you are?

Would you be able to cope with knowing my identity? I mean, there’s a reason I wear the gloves and mask, change my voice. Like I said, you know me in the real world. I won’t ever show you my face if it means losing you there.

I’d stop coming here like this though. If you wanted. But I don’t think you do. Do you?

You’ve obviously read my diary. Is that why you chose Ghostface?

What do you think? :)

There. Questions answered.

Don’t expect me in person for a bit, you should take some time to process. I know it’s a lot.

I’ll still be there for you though, I wouldn’t leave you completely. Never.

I have a feeling you won’t tell anyone. But I do of course have to ask: please, don’t tell anyone okay? It’d make me sad :(

Not even Lukey or Anakin okay?

I’ll warn you before I make an appearance next time.

Date

July 28th

The bell above the door at the Bluebird chimed and your head perk up immediately. There he was, right on time.

Anakin had been much, much closer to you since your meeting with Ghost. You still hadn’t told him. Probably never would.

Who would believe something so insane anyway? Anakin had handled the whole ‘home intruder and I’ve been drugged’ situation extremely well. He was very supportive, your certain that if you did ever share the information on Ghost with him, he would do his best to validate you, but he’d definitely make you go to therapy.

“My princess.” He grinned, walking up to the counter and sitting on a barstool, both hands palm up on the countertop for you to place yours in.

“Hey Ani.” You smiled softly, you loved this.

You loved what this had bloomed into. You never thought you’d fall for a traditional guy, but here you are, with Anakin.

“Whatcha got left? Almost done?” He queried, rubbing the backs of your hands with his thumbs while he gazed at you with those dreamy blue eyes.

“I’ll be ready to leave as soon as Sara clocks in.” You peered back into the kitchen, hoping to see her walk in the back door any moment.

“Good, we’ve got places to be.” Anakin teased.

“Do I have to go in my work clothes?” You whined. “I smell like french fries!”

“Mmm my favorite perfume of yours.” He snickered. “No, you don’t baby. I brought you a change of clothes. Dress or pants?”

“Oh? You brought options?” You asked in surprise.

“Of course I brought options. I’m not a mind reader.” He smirked.

“No, but you might as well be.” You laughed.

“Mmhmm.” He looked down at your hands and laced his fingers with yours. “Pants?”

“Yes please.” You nodded with a laugh. “See? Mind reader.”

“I wish.” He rolled his eyes. “Just know my girl well that’s all.” He smiled, one hand leaving yours to cup your cheek.

“Sara’s here.” He nodded to the back door as it was opening.

“Oh good!” You said, patting his hand on your cheek and spinning around to clock out.

Once Anakin had led you out to his car he opened the back passenger door and handed you one of your small backpacks with clothes in it.

“Change inside?” He asked, nodding toward the restaurant.

“Ew no.” You scoffed. “I’ll just change in the backseat.” You shrugged.

“Sure thing baby.” He laughed, gesturing for you to get in.

He stood outside with his back resting against the side of the car, ever respectful of you and your boundaries. Soon enough you knocked on the window and he moved out of the way to open the door for you and help you into the front of the car.

“Lookin’ good princess.” He let out a low whistle that had you blushing.

“Thanks.” You squeaked, despite being so comfortable with him, you couldn’t help but be bashful sometimes.

He was never not confident in the things he said to you. If he wanted to tell you something, he did. With his full chest.

Tonight was your first real, official date. Anakin had planned it all for you, you weren’t privy to his choices but you assumed it would be casual considering the clothes he’d offered you. He’d said ‘men should plan the dates and their girls should just enjoy them’.

Fuck feminism. Anakin made you forget you had the right to vote, he made you forget what it was like to do things on your own, he made you forget the horrors of being a girl left alone.

With him around you never had to lift a finger.

So it was no surprise that when you arrived at the restaurant he walked around, opened your door and offered you his arm. Not unexpected that he would order your food for you, somehow he always knew what you wanted, you didn’t even bother picking up the menu anymore.

Not a shock at all that when he got you home you didn’t have to do anything but lay back and be loved.

Part Eight

Just realized that probably not everyone knows what a butterfly knife is, so here’s a gif (I’ll put one in the previous post too) like you’re telling me this isn’t Anakin’s weapon of choice??? Show off.

Tag-List:

@wickedtactics @tsugumiholic @kingdomhate @burnthecheshirewitch @exquisitcorpse @arzua10 @bby-imasociopath @depressed-kay @aliciaasky @naty-1001 @mrsmikaelsxn @bunnylovesani @ausskywalker @angelsadmired @slut4starwarssmut t @chocolatepalacecloudhoagie @starkiller419 @hearts4mitski4 @lethargic @allhailbuckybarnes-blog @shadowhuntyi @mortalheartache @fallinlovewithevil @sythethecarrot @chaoticantihero @vadersslut @luvvfromme @anakinsbaee @doblasftcisco o @sweetcheesecakesblog @luvskywxlker @angelsadmired @kaminokatie @anakin-pilled @graveyard-stray @chiaraanatra @jediavengers @zapernz @lunalitva @salted-snailz @queenofchaos99 @ellie-luvsfics @dazednstars141 @rorysbrainrot @hopesworlld @lonaah @guiltycherries @syralix

THE TAGS LIST IS FULL! But if you want to be tagged I will comment ur username for you. Love you all so many.

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beenbaanbuun · 9 months ago

Note

Ateez with an s/o who's always a little horny right after waking up. That's it. That's the thought.

(This totally doesn't come from the fact that I'm like that and wake up constantly wishing yunho's fingers or mingi's head were between my thighs)

~lyra

OKAY SO THIS?!?!?!? IMMACULATE IDEA!!

(warning for smut and somnophilia but i feel like that’s obvious)

seonghwa

okay so i’m of the opinion that seonghwa will do anything to keep the love of his life happy

if that means letting you grind on his thighs when you wake up first thing in a morning, then so be it!

like i can imagine him waking up to your moans one morning, all bleary eyes and confused while you try your hardest to push yourself to an orgasm

he watches through his lashes for a second while he decides what to do because he’s still tired but he can’t leave his love to suffer!

“just use my thigh, darling,” he mutters eventually, voice still a little scratchy, “i cant sleep with you squirming about like that.”

you’re a little confused, but seonghwa just pulls you closer and slides a thigh between yours

“there you go,” he says as you grind down, “now go crazy, darling.”

hongjoong

hongjoong strikes me as someone who likes to use toys in the bedroom (idk why, he just gives me those vibes)

like he collects them like pokémon cards and just keeps them in one of his drawers for when the opportunity strikes

and it does strike when he wakes up one morning to you moaning and squirming in your sleep

he takes him time picking a toy out before shaking you awake and dangling in front of your tired eyes

“you want this, baby?” he watches as you sleepily nod, “ask for it like a good girl.”

and even though your voice is slurred with sleep and your eyes are already fluttering closed again, you can’t help but quietly beg for what hongjoong is offering

yunho

oh you’re so right about yunho’s fingers - i am a huge fan of them personally and i think he definitely gets off on seeing his partner fall apart on them

so when you have a conversation with him about always being horny when you first wake up, a million ideas flood his brain

“what if i woke you up by making you cum?” he asks as if it’s the most casual thing in the world, “y’know, play with you a little to get rid of that tension.”

you’re practically squirming in your seat at the idea, and of course yunho can tell

so the next time you sleep over, he puts it to the test and begins to play with your clit first think when he wakes up

and by the time you even wake up, he already has two fingers stuffed deep inside of you fucking you mercilessly as he pushes you closer to the edge

yeosang

yeosang would be so nonchalant about it but in the best way possible

like it’s kind of hot when you nudge him awake, a whine climbing up your throat as you struggle to make yourself cum with your fingers

he just grunts at you tiredly and pats his lap for you to climb on, which you do in a heartbeat

“you can ride me if you want,” he says with his eyes still closed, “i’d fuck you but i’m too tired right now.”

and you’re kind of too tired as well, but the horniness outweighs it and you power through the ache in your bones as you work to get him hard before sliding down onto his cock

and the moment you’ve finished he’s wrapping you in his arms and pulling you to his chest

“10 more minutes and then we’ll get up.”

san

if you don’t think san is doing everything in his power to make his lover happy then i’m afraid you’re incorrect

so when he finds out about your little morning horniness problem, he’s obviously filled with sympathy and compassion (and horniness…)

“you can wake me up, you know,” he shrugs, trying to seem chill about it, “or just use my body, or some shit. i don’t mind, babe.”

and of course you take him up on his offer; you use any part of his body you can think of

his thigh, his bicep, his abs - it’s all on the table for you, and it’s so good every single time

and when he wakes up to see you already a moaning mess, grinding on the muscles he’s worked so hard on, it’s safe to say you’ll have to prepare yourself for round two… and three

mingi

i’ve said it a million times before but this man has an oral fixation and you know i’m right!!!!

so obviously when you complain about how much you hate waking up horny all the time, it’s like christmas has come early for him

“do you want me to sort that for you?” he perks up, eyes glistening like you’ve just given him the moon, “i can sort that for you…”

and of course you agree because you’re so sick and tired of always having to wank first thing in the morning!!

but what you don’t know is that the alternative mingi is suggesting is you waking up to him mouthing at your core like a starving animal each and every morning

you cant complain when he does the job so well though

he always makes you cum at least three times before pulling away and shoving his dick inside of you to solve his own morning wood problem…

wooyoung

again, i’ve said it a million times before but he’s such an evil little shit!!!!

like i can imagine him waking up pretty early in the morning, only to hear the sweet sound of your moans echoing through the room

he turns to you with an amused grin, watching you way your face screws up as you desperately paw at your clit

“want some help?” you nod desperately, “you’ll have to say sorry for waking me up first. i couldn’t sleep with you being so loud!”

and if you weren’t so desperate you wouldn’t even considered it for a millisecond, but you’re right on the edge and you just need one more thing to push you over the edge so…

“m’sorry, youngie,” you say with a sleepy voice, “please make me cum.”

and how can he say no when you ask so nicely??

jongho

jongho is another little devil who i think takes great pride in teasing you for being so horny

“you want me to fuck you while you’re still asleep?” he cocks an eyebrow at you when you first bring it up, “you really can’t get enough of me, can you honeybun?”

and you can’t help but roll your eyes at him, even though he’s right; you really can’t get enough of him…

the next morning you wake up to jongho’s moans in your ear and a heavy cock spreading you open and fucking into you

“g’morning,” he grunts into your ear, “didn’t think you’d be asleep for so long but i guess you’re a slut even in your dreams.”

the both of you finish pretty soon after you wake up, and the moment you do, jongho goes back to being his usual teddy bear self

literally has you pinned to his chest and his soft cock still inside you for pretty much the rest of the morning

#ateez x reader #ateez smut #ateez hard thoughts #ateez hard hours #ateez asks #ateez drabbles #ateez oneshot

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nino-rox · 2 months ago

Text

KEEHO x Male Bottom Reader | S

Content Warning : NSFW Gay Smut, sexual themes, Top Keeho and Bottom Male Reader, unprotected sex (please use protection)

Disclaimer : This is a Fan-fiction story written for entertainment purposes only, no part of the story implies or affirms anything regarding real world events or individuals. Please be of the appropriate age ( i.e, Adult as per your country’s stipulations and regulations) before interacting with this post

(NOT PROOF READ)

My eyes were still tired, even though the sun was beaming through the blinds. I had the worst headache ever and felt so sick, as if I were in a hangover.

I groaned, turning on my side to grab a pillow, an action that unexpectedly hurt. My whole body ached. I slowly opened my eyes, looking over to the window, I squinted my eyes, as I felt an arm drape over my side.

What?

I looked over and saw an unfamiliar figure lying in bed beside me.

A man?

I blinked.

This has to be a dream.

I rubbed my eyes and turned around, the pain from my bottom made me gasp.

My stomach dropped, I didn't have a single clue what happened last night. I remembered going to a frat party with a couple of friends and then...

Oh god.

I had sex with him, didn't I?

The realization came to me like a wave.

How much did I drink last night?

I had a feeling I would never remember.

I was naked, the other man was also naked, and he was so close to me that I could smell his sweet scent. We were both now laying facing each other as he slept soundly.

He looked peaceful, and honestly, he was kind of crazy hot, but I had no idea who this was or why he was in my bed.

I tried to wake him up but was too scared to shake him.

I slowly removed his arm from me and got out of bed. I looked down and winced at the pain, my thighs were covered in purple and blue hickies and my bottom had the same coloring, only, they were bigger and redder.

I sighed and turned around to find my phone. It was on the nightstand. I went to grab it but accidentally bumped into the table, causing the lamp to fall off and the other man to jump awake.

I yelped, and we both froze, staring at each other.

I felt the blood rush to my cheeks as I realized that he had a morning wood.

The man sat up, the blanket falling off his body and landing on floor.

We continued to stare at each other, unable to move or say anything.

"How was your night sexy?" He finally asked.

I hesitated, "Oh, uhm...,” his very visible hard on wasn’t helping. I didn’t know what to say or what to do.

The other man chuckled, "Don't tell me you don't remember. You were pretty drunk last night.

"Did we-"

"Fuck? Yeah, you were quite loud. I don't think your neighbors will be very happy about it."

I didn't know what to say.

"Do you not remember?"

I shook my head, "No."

"Damn, I wanted you to remember," the other man sighed, "well, since we both woke up like this, why don't we help each other out? Help you remember,” he said smirking, "come back to bed."

"Wait-"

But before I could finish, the other man grabbed my hand and pulled me back into bed.

I gasped as he kissed me, his lips were so soft, and the feeling of his warm tongue exploring my mouth sent shivers down my spine.

He pinned me down and I could feel his morning wood rub against me.

He smirked at my reaction, "you’re so hard, you want more, huh? Then let's have some more fun," he whispered, and started kissing my neck. As if instinctively, I tilted my head, and the man started biting and licking the spot where he did last night, making me moan.

"You liked it here right?" he mumbled, "I could tell by how loud you were screaming."

I moaned as he continued kissing and biting my neck, his arm snaking its way to my cock as the other grabbed my hair, pulling it and exposing my neck even more.

My body just gave in, getting turned on by the other man and letting him do whatever he wanted, as my arms wrapped around his neck.

He started stroking my dick as he rubbed his own against me.

"Mmm," he moaned, "I want to fuck you, lets go for round 2 baby? Huh?" he said as he bit my ear, "let me hear you say it."

I moaned, "yes, fuck me please."

He smiled, "that's what I like to hear," and kissed me. He let go of my dick and inserted his fingers into my mouth, "suck."

I looked at him but obeyed, and he continued stroking himself with his other hand.

I sucked his fingers and he removed them from my mouth and placed one of them at my hole.

He looked up at me and grinned, "ready?"

I nodded and he inserted one finger, and another.

I moaned as he scissored his fingers, stretching me, and began stroking his own cock. “Fuck baby you’re still loose from last night. You ready to take me now? Huh?"

I could only nod, my mind was in a daze.

"Then come milk me baby, you did such a good job last night, and now, I want to see you do it again."

I couldn't believe that this was happening. I didn't even know the man's name, yet, I was already moaning beneath him, waiting to take his cock.

He lined his cock at my hole and slowly slid in, and I groaned at the sensation.

He thrusted into me and we both moaned. He continued thrusting and I moved my hips, matching his rhythm.

"Fuck," he groaned, "you feel so fucking good."

He lifted my legs and put them on his shoulders, his cock hitting a different angle, and I couldn't help but scream, "oh fuck, oh fuck, don't stop, don't stop, mmm fuck,"

"I won't stop," the other man moaned, "but tell me your name."

I whimpered, "Y/N, and yours?"

"Keeho," he said, his thrusts becoming faster and deeper, "you like that ? Want me yo go faster Y/N?."

I moaned, "Ah AH, oh god, yes."

He grinned, "such a naughty boy."

He pulled out, making me whine, but then flipped me around and entered me again, and I screamed.

He gripped my hips, his thrusts becoming more aggressive, his skin slapping against mine, as he grunted.

I could feel myself cumming, "oh fuck Keeho, I'm gonna-"

"Not yet," he growled, and he slowed his pace, and started rubbing my nipples.

I moaned, as he bit my ear, "you gonna be good for me?,” he said as he groaned into my ear, and started pinching and pulling my nipples.

I could only whimper.

"Answer me."

"Yes."

"You want to cum?"

"Yes."

"Want me to fill you up?"

"Please."

"I'm almost there baby, but not yet."

Keeho continued thrusting slowly, making sure that the head of his cock hit my prostate with every thrust, and his fingers played with my nipples.

My body was on fire, his rod stretching you out, as it went in and out, his hot breath on my neck, and the way he was teasing my nipples were driving me crazy.

I couldn't take it anymore, "Keeho, I-,"

"Now," he moaned.

His hands left my nipples and he gripped my waist, his cock sliding out, and then entering, and he continued to fuck me hard, making me scream.

"Y/N, fuck," Keeho moaned.

I could feel him cum inside me, as I orgasmed.

I fell on the bed and he collapsed on top of me, breathing heavily.

"You are so sexy," he said, his voice still husky, "I could fuck you again."

“Let’s.”

Keeho kissed me, and we laid in bed, holding each other.

He smiled, his eyes sparkling, "I want to see you again," he whispered, his fingers tracing my chest, "would you be interested in seeing me again?"

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nieceeee · 1 year ago

Text

"Let Me Help"

P/S: You and Eren decided to co-parent and things have been going well. You managed to keep a good distance and keep your hands to yourself. Until your hormones get the best of you and him being a good baby daddy offers to help solve your problem W/C: 2007

A/N: smut, minors DNI, baby daddy eren x reader, nicknames (mamas because you're his baby mama, babydoll) oral sex, praise kink, pregnant reader, NSFW,

I took some pieced of my original work and changed the characters so enjoy. I think I want to start adding more fluff. let me know if you're interested

“E don't, okay.” you huffed, holding a hand up at him. You and Eren had just made it back to your apartment. You had some errands to run earlier and he insisted on being there. You can't carry all that in your condition anyway he had fussed at you over the phone. You roll your eyes, placing your hand over your swollen abdomen as he opens the passenger side door for you.

“I told you I didn't need any help.” you complained but like always, he refused to listen to you.

Honestly, you were grateful that he was still around to help you out. After your relationship ended, you both decided it would be best to have a decent connection for when the baby arrived. Eren refused to let his child grow up without him so you both had to sit down and compromise. Despite all the drama from your relationship, you both managed to remain good friends and work on coparenting.

Until today.

When those pregnancy hormones started to kick in and you woke up this morning with your fingers pressed against your clit, trying to find some sort of relief. As your fingers circled your opening, you found yourself imagining a very familiar hand replacing yours. You whimpered at the image of Eren’s fingers pressing deep inside of you, stroking that ridged spot that you loved so much.

“You look so pretty when you cum for me babydoll.” he praised, “Do it again. Make daddy proud and cum all over my hands. Can you do that?”

Ironically, that was the day you actually made him a daddy. You were so terrified at the two little lines on the test that you took 5 more to make sure. Eren was ecstatic. He had always wanted kids. But your relationship with him had been so toxic that you were scared of what would happen if you tried again. So you both decided to remain friends in order to have a healthy relationship for your child.

All of that went out the window this morning as you coaxed another orgasm from your body, his name falling from your lips. But it wasn’t enough. The fire that burned in you refused to be sated. You needed today to get out of the house and blow off steam, anything to get your mind off of the aching in between your legs. Everything was going fine until he made his daily call. The minute his face popped up on screen, you felt the heat pass through you again. Fucking pregnancy hormones you groaned internally.

“You all good mamas?” Eren asked you.

Your toes curled in your shoes at the nickname, “Yes, I just have some errands to run today so I’ll have to call you later.” you rushed. Looking at him was driving your body crazy and you knew you would need your vibrator again before you could leave. “You doing all that by yourself?” he said, brows arching in concern. “Yes, E. I’ll be fine.” you fussed, your leg shaking with anxiousness. You just needed him off the phone. “I’ll be there in 10.” You couldn’t process the words he said before the phone disconnected. Fuck. you thought to yourself, you couldn’t be around him today. Not like this. You hobbled yourself to your room, grabbing your rabbit out of the top drawer and lifting your dress and pressing it against your swollen center. “Shit.” you let out as your juices dripped down your legs. You rushed to clean yourself up just as the doorbell rang.

“Hey, babydoll you ready?” his voice called from the front door. You cussed yourself for giving him the spare key. For emergencies only you had told him but he still used it as he pleased.

You met him at the door, hoping that your actions were disguised. He took his time looking at you. His eyes dragging from your head to your feet as he swiped his tongue out over his lips. “You look good mamas.” his deep voice lowered, caressing your eardrums and everywhere in between. “Stop looking at me like that.” you snapped. He gave you a sexy half smile and shrugged his shoulders, opening the front door and holding it for you.

Running errands with Eren seemed nearly impossible. You found yourself watching his every move. You never thought a man putting groceries in the car would look so sexy. Those veins popping in his hands and traveling up the crevices of his muscles was making you dizzy. “It must be the heat” you explained to him when you needed to grab a seat to catch your breath. By the time you made it back to your apartment, your pussy was throbbing. You needed to make him leave.

Eren noticed you had been distant with him all day but he assumed it was just the heat and the hormones. But as much as you pushed at him, he wasn’t leaving you in that state. Something was going on with you and he wanted to know what. “You can go now.” you forced out. “You’re not putting all this away on your own.” he fussed, starting to unpack the groceries. “Eren, please just go.” you were practically groveling, the need between your thighs growing stronger. “Did I do something wrong?” he questioned, turning to you. His green eyes gazing at you with concern and confusion. “No, you didn't .” you expressed. “So why have you been pushing me away all day? I don't get it.” he urged. “E, please.” you started but he cut you off. “No, not until you talk to me babydoll. What did I do? I want to fix it.” “EREN. I'M HORNY OKAY!” you screamed out dropping your head back in frustration. His eyes blinked. Once. Twice. The room was silent. “I- my hormones are spiking and I have been having trouble all day.” you explained. “You being here has not helped.” He remained calm as he stepped towards you. “Do you need me?” he asked calmly. “What?” He stepped closer, standing right in front of you, forcing you to look up at him. “Do you need my help?” he whispered down at you.

“What do you mean help ?” you asked, anxious to know the answer.

He smiled down at you. “Come here mamas.” he said softly. You walk towards him, taking his outstretched hand. He leads you through the house and to your bedroom. “E-” you start. He looks back at you and all your words get caught in your throat. Eren positions you next to your bed, coming up behind you. He gently slides his hands underneath your belly, a warm feeling running through his chest as he lifts slightly to offer you some relief. You sigh sinking into his arms, your back pressing against his chest. “Eren, are you sure this is okay? We said we were setting boundaries.” you said softly. “I know.” he whispered, rubbing small circles on the underside of your belly. You hummed in delight at the sensation of his warm hands on your skin. “Look at it this way mamas.” he explained. “My goal is to make sure you are as comfortable as possible. And this is causing you discomfort, yeah?” You nod, riding the high of his words as he continues to massage you. “All I want to do is help you get a release.” he whispers, leaning down to you. He rubs the tip of his nose against your neck before clamping his teeth down gently into your shoulder. Your legs buckle slightly as he runs his tongue over the mark. “You smell so fucking good babydoll.” he groans, his dick hardening behind you. You both stand there for a moment, you pressed against his chest as he rubs your belly and plants kisses on your neck.

“Come here.” Eren says, releasing your belly, He guides your hips back to the bed and lays you down. “Eren, are you sure about this?” you asked breathlessly. He looks down at you as he pulls half of his hair back into a ponytail. “Positive.” he grumbled. He guides you back gently against the mattress. “Just let me take care of you baby. I’ll make you feel good.” he whispered. “You always do.” you let out. He hummed his approval before pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. Eren takes his time, kissing down your neck and into your shoulder blades. Your eyes flutter close as you sink into the bed. He takes his time trialing kisses down to your swollen breasts, his lips closing around the hardened mound as his fingers roll around your other nipple. Your hands travel up his back and into his hair, gripping softly. He growls, biting down gently on your nipple as he continues his descent down your body. He takes extra time kissing around her belly, a smile playing at his lips as he trailers the linea nigra in the center of your abdomen. He travels further until his head is centered between your legs. An audible gasps escapes your lips as the warmth of his mouth attaches to your aching middle. Eren takes his time, sucking at your clit, rolling it gently between his lips before slipping his tongue inside of you. Your back arches slightly from the bed as you revel in each swipe of his tongue, the wetness getting louder as he swirls the muscle inside of you. The wave of heat washes over you once more as he growls into your pussy. “E, baby. Fuck.” you call out to him as he feasts on you like you’re his last meal. You body jerks as the orgasm spills out of you and into his mouth. He stays there, holding onto your thighs lapping at you until you come down from your high. Your essence drips from his chin as he sits up and looks at you. “You taste better than I remember.” he said softly. Your breathing is heavy as you stare into each other's eyes.

You part your legs slowly, beckoning him closer. Eren’s eyes widened slightly. “You sure?” he asked, his gaze heavy. You nodded. You needed more of him. “Please” you beg.

He smirked and cupped his hands under your upper thigh, sliding your body closer to him. “E…fuck.” your mind went blank as he rubbed his tip against your opening. “You okay baby? You need to stop?” he looked up at you, his gaze heavy. You looked down at him, thick and heavy, his body begging for release. He was a force to be reckoned with down there. “Y/n?” he asked, stepping back slightly. “I- I ‘m okay.” you responded quickly. “You sure?” he said, still standing back, concern etched on his face. “Yes. I’m sure.” You lay back on the bed again, opening up wider. He took a breath and stepped back into your space, pressing against you again. Your fingers gripped the sheets as you felt his tip push inside of you. “Fuck” you cry out. He stilled. “Am I hurting you?” he asked. You were drunk on pleasure at the feeling. “No please keep going E, I need it.” you moan out. He shuddered at your cries, and worked his way in a little more. He took his time, slipping in and out of you with shallow strokes, rubbing your clit when you clenched around him. He knew your body inside and out. You felt another weave of pleasure overtaking you. Your walls clenched around him. “It's okay. Release for me babydoll.” he said gently coaching you through your final orgasm. He stayed sheathed inside of you until he’s sure you’re done and slowly pulls out, your creams spilling onto the sheets beneath you. His gaze seared your body as it trailed you from head to toe. “What?” you ask shyly. “You are so fucking beautiful, you know that.” He ran his hand down the side of your face, wiping a few of the tears from your eyes. You smile up at him.

“Thank you, Eren.” you say softly. “I told you babydoll. I’m always here to help.” he smile before planting a gentle kiss to your forehead.

#smut #eren x reader #eren x black reader #eren aot #eren yeager #baby daddy eren #aot x reader #aot x smut #aot x y/n #eren x y/n #eren smut #nieceenotes

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yanderestarangel · 11 months ago

Text

♡ 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞!𝐛𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐧 ♡

TW: ftm reader, afab anatomy, non con, v!sex, forced feminization, kidnapping, manipulation, praise, use of powers, power play, unprotected sex, degradation, fingering, hard sex, overstimulation, dark themes, breed!kink, porn plot.

'Easily manipulated' was a word that summed up your persona for the grandmaster, he could see your gentle and sweet nature, which made him feel like it would be so easy to take advantage of you like that.

𝐓𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐮𝐩𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐧𝐨 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐦.

Just thinking about it drove him crazy. Bi Han can feel that his pupils are dilating just by looking at you - This showed him how much you affect him, so his already corrupted mind thought of the safest and quickest plan of having your soul and body all to himself... Kidnapping.

It was easy to convince you to be alone with your kind leader... And right after a cup of green tea, everything went dark, and with an unbearable headache you woke up naked in a big, unfamiliar bed - with your breasts hanging out, and your wrists tied. over your head, wearing white lace panties, your body was hot and your mind was in a confusing blur - until you heard the door slam, and saw bi han walk in, but before you had any hope of the ninja being there to save you... You saw the crooked smile painted on his lips, you had no escape there - his gauze filled with dark desire as he continued to massage your soft skin, his hands caressing every inch of your exposed body. His touch was both gentle and possessive, like a predator savoring its prey.

"-You are so beautiful... a little prince, I did exactly what I wanted to do. I brought you here to indulge in your deepest desires," he whispered huskily, his breath tickling your ear. "-I can feel how hot you are, how wet and needy. It's as if your body is aching for my touch." His fingers trailed down your stomach, tracing circles around your navel before sliding lower, closer to your glistening heat.

"-I've fantasized about your moans, your desperate cries for more. And now, I'm going to make those fantasies a reality." With that, he dipped his fingers into your wetness, his eyes never leaving yours. He started with a slow, torturous pace, savoring every gasp and whimper that escaped your lips. His touch was expert, his fingers dancing skillfully over your swollen clit. "-You're so responsive," he purred, savoring the sweet sounds you made. "-Just like I imagined. Such a good little slut for me."

You moaned as your body betrayed your mind, you wanted to scream, cry and push the cyromancer away from you - but the bonds and his thick, cold fingers deliciously stretched every bit of your cunt. You mumbled a few words, feeling the lace fabric brush against your fingers, the pain and discomfort of being exposed were disappearing in your core.

"-You don't understand how much power you hold over me," he whispered, his voice filled with raw lust. "-Every time I see you, I ache to touch you, to taste you. Your body, your essence, it drives me wild." he added a second finger, stretching you to accommodate him - your moans growing louder as your orgasm built within you.

He watched your every reaction, his arousal evident in the bulge straining against his pants. You accumulated a little of your conscience, even with the eminent pleasure that accumulated there, closing your thighs and kicking the older man, but the dreaded 'sub zero' wasn't going to let a little boy like you deny him, on the contrary, that made him even more excited - after all, he was not one to shy away from his desires, nor was he afraid to manipulate the situation to suit his needs.

"-I can always take what I want... by force." He cupped your breasts in his hands, his touch possessive and demanding. He kneaded and squeezed, his fingers pinching your sensitive nipples. "-Do you really think you can outrun me, defy me? Your body, your very soul, calls out for my possession. I can feel it, just as surely as I can feel your wetness against my fingers." he tore your lacy panties apart, exposing your wet and swollen pussy to the cool air, his gaze locking onto your delicate folds.

"-I'll show you just how much of a prince you can be," he growled, his voice low and commanding. "-You crave my cock, don't you my little prince?" Bi Han positioned himself at your entrance, the tip of his cock grazing against your folds. The anticipation was almost unbearable, both for him and for you. He relished in the knowledge that he could give you pleasure like no one else could.

"-You can resist me all you want, but I'll break down every wall, every defense you have until you're begging for more. You're mine, whether you like it or not." Without warning, he thrust into you with a powerful force, claiming your tight, wet heat in one swift movement - you feel him stretching you, filling you completely. He groaned in approval, his eyes locking with yours, as his hips began to move. The grandmaster smirked cruelly, relishing in the power and control he had over your delicate body - reveled in the lewd scene, watching as your pussy clenched and winked around his cock, he could see the need in your eyes, despite your attempts to resist.

Bi Han's thrusts quickened once again, his strength and stamina evident as he pounded into you, "-You're trying to resist, but your body betrays you. Your moans, the way your sweet pussy clenches around me, it screams surrender." He relished in the sounds of your moans and cries of pleasure, his own groans intertwining with yours.

"-I'm going to fuck you senseless, make you come untouched, until there's nothing left but a trembling, submissive mess." He paused mid-thrust, his cock still buried deep inside you, and leaned down towards your ear. His breath was cold against your skin, sending shivers of fear down your spine.

"-I can feel how wet you are, how close you are to breaking, my little slut..." he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "-And when you do, I want you to scream my name. Scream it loud enough for everyone to hear." The words hung in the air, heavy with their meaning. He wasn't just talking about sex; he was claiming ownership, marking you as his. And as if to emphasize his point, he thrust deeper than ever before, hitting an angle that made you cry out.

"-You see, my little boy? No matter how much you resist, no matter what lies you tell yourself, deep down, you crave this... You always wanted me to abuse that cute pussy of yours, didn't you?" Sub zero thrust deeper, his cock hitting an angle inside you that made everything around you blur. The sensation was overwhelming, but in the best possible way. It was like he had unlocked some hidden part of yourself, a dark and twisted desire that had been lying dormant until now. "-Tell me," he demanded, his voice rough with need. "-Do you want my seed inside you? Do you crave the thought of being pregnant by me?"

"Fuck no" was the last thing you said before your orgasm hit, a wave of pleasure so intense that it almost blinded you. But instead of repulsion or disgust, all you felt was a raw, primal need for more. "-Yes... You crave it. You want my seed inside you... Such a good boy." his voice filled with triumph.

His words were fuel to the fire, making your body tremble with unbridled lust. And as he spoke, he came too, his cum mixing with yours, creating a messy, wet bond between you two. As the intensity of your orgasms subsided, reality began to seep back into your minds. You found yourself wrapped in his arms, your body still wet from your combined fluids. And despite everything that had happened, despite the manipulation, there was an undeniable connection between you two.

"-I didn't mean for it to be like this... But I couldn't resist you…"

🌸 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 "𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐛𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐧" 🌸

𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐝𝐨𝐦!𝐛𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐧

𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐮𝐩 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐛𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐧

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐛𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐧

𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐲 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐛𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐧

𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓻𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽𝓼 𝓻𝓮𝓼𝓮𝓻𝓿𝓮𝓭 ©𝔂𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓻𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓮𝓵 2024. 𝓭𝓸 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓬𝓸𝓹𝔂, 𝓻𝓮𝓹𝓸𝓼𝓽 𝓸𝓻 𝓽𝓻𝓪𝓷𝓼𝓵𝓪𝓽𝓮

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wholoveseggs · 5 months ago

Note

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE do an Elijah x reader with period sex😭 i can’t find one and i really wanna read something about Elijah during that time of the month🙏

Bloodier Bath

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

Aunt Flo comes to visit and the noble Elijah once again stands up to the bitch.

♡♡ Thank you for the request sweet anon! The first fic I ever wrote was Bloodbath & it has a special place in my heart! It's what inspired me to start writing in the first place! This is obviously a vampires favorite thing to do... and it's crazy there isn't more fics on it!!! ♡♡

2.7k words - Warnings: smuttt, oral sex, period sex, so much fluff, Elijah being sweet and caring...

@gorgeouslydangerous @starkleila @lydia1369sworld @notleylaaa @vampiresluv

@myanmy @xflowerbombxo @maryvibess @always-and-forever-daydreaming

@spnaquakindgdom @amournoir @meeom @damienmorton @wickedmuse

@cs-please @complicatedandconfusing-25 @youcanhavemybuckanyday @akala6670229 @yeaiamme2

@itsjulzandmydiamonds @spideysbabe @witch-of-letters @elijahstwink @rosecentury

@amanda08319 @starshipcookie @li-da-savage @veggie-eggrolls @spideybv28

@sunkissedebony97 @idk00sblog @savannaounana @sekaishell @b1tchy

@loving-and-dreaming @fancycassie-stayfancy @hcqwxrtss123 @iamawkwardandshy @ziayamikaelson

@absolutemarveltrash @darkened-writer

You woke up feeling like shit, a dull ache radiating throughout your body. You knew exactly what it was, but actually moving from the comfort of the bed to confirm was a different story.

A quiet groan escaped you, the mere thought of the day ahead exhausting. You could feel the pain of the cramps radiating through you, the feeling of the sheets and clothes on your skin uncomfortable and irritating.

Your boyfriend stirred next to you, his warm hands reaching out and pulling you into him. Elijah let out a yawn, and he pressed a kiss to the side of your head, his arms wrapped protectively around you.

"Morning," he said softly.

"Morning," you replied, snuggling against him.

You wanted to stay close, but you felt too warm and uncomfortable. With a heavy sigh, you untangled yourself from his arms, rolling out of bed and going to the bathroom.

You turned the shower on, stepping under the warm spray and letting the water soothe you. The steam from the shower filled the air, and you closed your eyes, enjoying the relaxing sensation.

When the water turned cold, you reluctantly got out and dried off. You wrapped a towel around your body, and as you walked out of the bathroom, you saw a tray waiting on the bed. Elijah had gotten up and made breakfast, complete with a fresh cup of coffee and a heating pad.

He was propping up the pillows for you, arranging them just right so you could lay back comfortably. He flashed a small, knowing smile as he noticed you in the doorway, watching him.

"Thought you could use a little pampering this morning," he said softly, his eyes meeting yours.

"What I need is for you to kindly rip out my ovaries," you grumbled, the cramps making you extra moody.

"How about I start with the heating pad?" He offered, motioning for you to join him on the bed.

"Thank you," you said, walking over and climbing onto the bed. He helped you get comfortable, placing the heating pad on your stomach and wrapping a blanket around you.

You picked up the mug of coffee and took a deep sip, groaning softly as the warm liquid slid down your throat. "This is perfect, Lijah, thank you," you said, setting the mug back down on the nightstand.

"Are you going to work today?" He asked, gently stroking your hair.

You let out a sigh, not really wanting to face the day. "Probably not, I feel too miserable," you said, resting your head on his chest.

"Take the day off, relax, and do whatever makes you feel better," he said, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

"I can't do nothing," you protested.

"Yes, you can," he countered, a stern look on his face. "And you will, if I have to tie you down to keep you here."

You laughed softly, knowing that he would actually do it. "Ok, fine," you said, settling into his embrace.

He was so sweet and considerate, taking care of you. His gentle nature and soft words made the pain subside, and you relaxed, closing your eyes and letting the warmth wash over you.

You spent the day in bed, watching movies and talking, enjoying each other's company. He was always so attentive and thoughtful, making sure you were comfortable and had everything you needed.

As the day drew to a close, you started to feel better, the pain fading and your mood changing. You wanted to reward Elijah for being so sweet and supportive, and you had the perfect idea.

You reached over and cupped his cheek, turning his head so he was looking at you. "Thank you for taking such good care of me today," you said, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

"Of course, I'm happy to do it," he said, brushing a stray hair from your face.

"I want to make it up to you," you murmured, giving him a suggestive look.

He smiled, the lines around his eyes crinkling. "Oh? And how would you do that?" He asked, playing along.

"I have a few ideas," you said, sliding your hand down his chest and between his legs, rubbing him through his pants.

You watched as his pupils dilated, his arousal growing. "Is that so?" He asked, his voice dropping an octave.

"Mmhm," you hummed, leaning in and kissing him deeply. He returned the kiss, his hands finding your waist and pulling you closer.

You broke the kiss and moved lower, kissing along his jaw and neck, biting his earlobe gently. He groaned, his grip tightening on you.

You smirked, loving the way he reacted to your touch. All you wanted to do was show him just how grateful you were, and you knew just the way to do it.

You loved how he looked when he was turned on, his normally calm and collected demeanor replaced by one of lust and need. You kissed your way down his chest, pausing at his waistband.

But to your surprise, he stopped you, placing a finger under your chin and tilting your head up. You sat up, pouting a little, wondering what you did wrong.

In one sudden, swift move, he grabbed your waist and flipped you onto your back, hovering over you.

"As much as I appreciate the thought, that's not exactly what I want," he said, his voice a low rumble.

"Oh?" You asked, arching a brow. "And what is it that you want, then?"

He smiled, his eyes roaming over your body, then he leaned down and kissed you, his lips soft and insistent. You returned the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck.

As he kissed you, his hand moved to the hem of your shirt, slowly pushing it up. His fingertips brushed against your skin, sending a shiver through you.

"Oh, I see," you giggled, the realization dawning on you. "You like me when I'm messy and bloody, don't you?"

He chuckled, a low sound that sent heat straight to your core. "Don't make me admit it out loud," he teased, nipping at your neck.

You smiled, tilting your head to the side, giving him better access. "Admit what? That you like fucking me when I'm on my period? Such a filthy vampire... " You taunted, running your hands through his hair.

Elijah growled, his hands tightening on your hips. "Keep talking like that, and I'll show you exactly what I want," he threatened, his voice rough with desire.

You couldn't help but laugh, loving how he could go from soft and caring to dangerous and possessive. "Oh, I'm counting on it," you said, tugging his hair.

His dark eyes flashed, and he surged forward, claiming your mouth in a bruising kiss. He didn't waste any time, his hands moving to your underwear, pulling them down and tossing them aside.

"Eli- I was kidding... I'm gross right now... " You protested, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious.

"Not to me," he replied, kissing his way down your body. He paused at your lower belly, looking up at you with a smirk.

His vampire nature, usually hidden so well, was peeking through. His eyes had turned completely black, with dark veins under his eyes, his fangs visible behind his parted lips.

You couldn't help but shiver at the sight, a mix of fear and arousal coursing through you. "Elijah... " You breathed, not entirely sure what to say.

He gave you one last look, then dipped his head down, his tongue darting out and swiping over your folds.

You gasped, the sensation sending a wave of pleasure through you. Elijah's tongue was skilled, knowing just where to lick and suck, his hands gripping your thighs. You were already so sensitive, and his actions sent sparks through you.

Elijah worked his tongue inside of you, lapping up your blood and juices, drinking every drop. It was messy, and there was a small puddle of blood on the sheets, but neither of you cared.

Your body tensed and the cramps returned, but in a different way, because you knew once he was done, they'd be gone for a while. Your moans grew louder as the pleasure built, and your legs began to shake.

He hummed happily, his mouth and nose pressed against your center. He was in complete bliss, having his cake and eating it too. There was truly nowhere else he would rather be.

The feeling was amazing, and you couldn't hold back anymore. Your orgasm hit you, and your back arched off the bed, a string of curse words escaping you.

He groaned as you came, your taste flooding his mouth. He was relentless, keeping his pace and holding you down as you writhed beneath him.

Finally, the aftershocks faded, and you slumped back against the pillows, panting heavily. Elijah placed a few kisses on your inner thighs before sitting up, licking his lips.

His face was covered in blood, he looked utterly insane and you burst out laughing at the sight. Your perfectly composed, always clean and tidy boyfriend was now a bloody mess.

He leaned down to kiss you, but you held up your hand, stopping him. "Nooooooo," you squealed, unable to stop laughing.

He smiled, his teeth bloody too, and it sent you into another fit of giggles. He joined in, the two of you laughing like children.

You had never seen him look so wild, so free. He was normally so careful and precise, and seeing him so messy and uninhibited was a huge turn-on.

"Hold on," he said, disappearing into the bathroom.

He returned with a clean face, but his shirt was still covered in blood. He crawled back onto the bed, hovering over you, his eyes raking over your body.

"You are so beautiful," he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

You rolled your eyes, not exactly agreeing when you were in this state. "Thank you, but I'm not," you protested, shifting uncomfortably.

"Yes, you are," he insisted, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, his hands moving to your thighs. "And if you won't believe me, then let me show you."

You couldn't deny him, and you relaxed, letting him take control. His hands gripped your thighs, parting them so he could settle between them. His eyes were locked on yours, his gaze intense and full of love.

"Ready for more?" He asked, his lips ghosting over yours.

You nodded, a quiet moan escaping you as he eased into you. He moved slowly, knowing how sensitive you were in this state. It was a new kind of pleasure, a slow burn instead of the usual fiery explosion. He took his time, savoring every moment, committing every detail to memory.

He rocked his hips, the pace steady and deep, his lips finding yours. The kiss was soft and slow, matching the rhythm of his movements. The feeling was incredible, and the cramps had completely faded, your body fully relaxed.

"Lijah... " You whispered, your nails digging into his chest.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. He buried his face in your neck, kissing and biting your skin.

He groaned as he picked up his pace, thrusting deeper and harder. The sounds he was making were so delicious, and you pulled his hair, wanting him to moan more, loving how he was coming undone. His self-control was slipping, and he was losing himself in the pleasure.

"You get so fucking hot when you're like this," you purred, watching the way his muscles flexed as he moved.

He laughed, his breath warm against your neck. "Like what?" He asked, his voice muffled.

"When you're on the verge of losing it," you said, tangling your fingers in his hair. "It's sexy as hell.”

He chuckled, lifting his head to look at you. "And you're so damn gorgeous when you're bloody and sweaty," he said, a mischievous glint in his eye.

You laughed, the sound fading into a moan as he hit that sweet spot. Your head fell back against the pillow, and his hand found yours, lacing your fingers together and pinning it to the bed.

The pace quickened, and you both knew it wouldn't last much longer. The room was filled with the sounds of your moans and the smell of blood and sex, and it was all too much.

He kissed you deeply, the taste of iron still on his lips. His hands squeezed your hips, pulling you into each thrust. You couldn't take it anymore, and the tension that had been coiling deep inside of you snapped.

Your nails raked down his chest, your moans lost on his lips as you came. All the pain and tension immediately faded, replaced by pure bliss.

"Fuck... " Elijah growled, burying his face in your neck. His rhythm stuttered, and he came with a low groan, his hips jerking as he rode out his orgasm.

You were all hot, flushed and sweaty, but it was the most blissful feeling. You felt like you could melt into the sheets and die right there, but then you would miss the look on Elijah's face.

His eyes were half-closed, his lips parted as he caught his breath. His hair messy, his clothes stained with blood, and it was a sight to behold.

"I love you, you know that?" You murmured, cupping his cheek.

He chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to your palm. "I love you too," he replied, his voice rough.

You ran your thumb across his bottom lip, and he smiled, his dimples on full display. He was always so handsome, but there was something extra special about him when he was like this.

"You're so cute," you teased, booping his nose.

He scrunched his nose, then playfully bit the tip of your finger. "You're adorable," he countered, his voice soft and sweet.

You smiled, your cheeks growing warm. No matter how long you'd been together, he still had that effect on you.

"Come here," he said, wrapping his arms around you and sitting you up, pulling you into his lap.

You giggled, snuggling against him. He kissed the top of your head, his hands resting on your waist. You sat like that for a while, enjoying the closeness.

You were exhausted and ready to sleep, but the mess had to be cleaned up. You were sticky and soaked, and the sheets were a mess.

"I think it's time for a bath," he suggested, brushing his lips against your neck.

You grinned, leaning back and looking up at him. "Only if you join me," you said, arching a brow.

"It's a deal," he replied, grinning back.

You pressed a quick kiss to his lips, then he carried you to the bathroom, setting you down on the side of the tub. He turned on the water and peeled his bloody shirt off, tossing it into the trash.

"You really are filthy," you teased, a playful smirk on your lips.

"It's not my fault that once a month I'm presented with the perfect opportunity to get a little messy," he retorted, giving you a smug look.

"A little?" You said, looking him up and down.

There was blood covering the bedsheets, his hands, his cock and of course between your legs and down your thighs.

"Alright, maybe a lot messy," he relented, shrugging his shoulders.

You giggled, watching him test the water, making sure it wasn't too hot. He was so sweet and caring, always looking out for your comfort.

He helped you into the tub, then got in behind you, pulling you against him. You sighed, enjoying the warmth of the water and his body against yours.

"Thank you," you murmured, your eyes closing as you leaned back against his chest.

"For what?" He asked, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin.

"For everything," you said, opening your eyes and tilting your head to look at him.

"So, same time next month?" He teased, smiling down at you.

You laughed, playfully slapping his thigh. "Sure, but this time, let me take care of you," you said, wiggling your eyebrows.

"It's a date," he said, his hand trailing down your body.

The two of you stayed in the tub until the water started to cool, then you cleaned up the room and settled back into bed, snuggled in his arms.

Sure, periods suck, but when you have a man like Elijah, they aren't all bad.

#elijah mikaelson #the originals #the vampire diaries #vampire diaries #tvdu #elijah mikaelson smut #elijah mikaelson imagine #elijah mikealson imagine #elijah mikealson #elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikealson x reader #tvd #the vampire diaries x you #the vampire diaries x reader #the vampire diares imagine #the vampire diaries imagine #the originals imagine #period sex

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 1 year ago

Text

peppermint gum, m | jjk | and burst forth

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

It’s impossible to fall in love when you’re already in love. And Jeon Jungkook was in love. Helplessly. But what could he do? Time passed. The world became tasteless to his eyes. All he could do was hold onto the crisp and intense color of those memories, remember her words, and wonder where she was now. Savor, and burst forth.

click here for part i | this is part ii | total wc: 25k

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; this story contains parental child abuse - child neglect and abandonment; sloooow burn; mild alcohol consumption; hardcore pining JK; angst and fluff and feels; (in part ii) smut (fem reader, slight D/s dynamic, so much kissing, hair pulling, scratching / marking. grinding, choking, m-receiving oral, finger sucking, fingering, nipple play, m-masturbation, thigh riding, edging, penetrative sex, doggy, multiple orgasms); shifts back and forth between Jungkook’s POV and your POV; from lovers-to-strangers-to-lovers again :)

non-idol!AU; pining!Jungkook x noona!reader — ft JK’s helpful? friends Kim Taehyung and Park Jimin; reader’s close friend and talented guitarist, Kang Hyungu (ONEWE’s Kanghyun if you want to see his appearance, hehe, same personality); JK has all his piercings and has hair (lol)

Jungkook woke up with crusty eyes and on top of the love of his life.

Sexy.

Not.

He woke up with a start, the last dregs of an icy and panicked nightmare clawing at him. He couldn’t even remember what happened. The only way he could describe the sensation was that it was as if the color blue had become an emotion. Which was crazy talk, but honestly at this point what was new? After all, Jungkook was peeling his eyes open with effort and seeing the most beautiful sleeping face under him, even with the dark circles under her eyes.

He froze.

Oh, shit, what have I done?

A frown flitted over her features.

Her eyes opened a crack.

He squeaked and immediately ducked. Shoved his face into her chest, hurriedly wiping away at his face with the cuffs of his sleeves. I can’t show my face like this, I look so stupid and pathetic, I–

“Jungkook?”

Her voice was low and unused.

“What… What the fuck are you doing?”

He could still feel the residual ache between his eyes from crying so much, but at least he had cleaned up his eyes and felt a little less like a crispy bun left in the oven too long. “I…” Pausing, but the truth came tumbling out anyway. “I didn’t want you to see me ugly…”

He mumbled into his hands.

She snorted and Jungkook jumped as her hands settled in his waist, squeezing him, only now realizing that his sweatshirt paws were on top of the curve of her breasts. Thankfully, she was clearly wearing a padded bra under. How she slept in it was beyond him. Then again, she managed to sleep with a whole ass man on top of her, although his lower body was in between her legs.

She held onto him.

“Believe me, I’ve seen ugly. You’ll never be close to ugly in my eyes.”

She said it sleepily and with her head tilting back to stretch her neck. He couldn’t say anything. How could he? Oh, sure, if he was unserious, and he opened his mouth to joke back but nothing came out. He almost wanted to cry again. Instead, he shut his mouth and trembled, trying not to put too much weight onto her. She either didn’t care or had enough grace to not comment.

“You still snore pretty bad.”

“S… Sorry.”

She cracked her neck and exhaled over his head.

Her hands relaxed and slid over his lower back.

His eyes widened, overwhelmed by the cool, heady rush swirling through his body at her touch.

“I got used to it then, so I guess it’ll just take time,” she murmured.

For a second.

For a fleeting, perfect second, Jungkook was held by his most precious memory.

Then, she patted him in the back and her hands retreated. A soft groan and her palms planted onto his chest, lightly pushing him away, wiggling under him. He promptly backed up, turning his head away and hiding his disappointment, but she didn’t look in his direction, stretching and yawning, pointing towards the bathroom, go ahead and get washed up, I’ll get you a towel for your face, and he latched onto the suggestion to scurry away, trying not to seem too hurried, his large black parka carelessly falling onto the floor with a heavy thump.

It was suddenly cold and far too bright.

But he couldn’t run back to her.

His head snapped towards the mirror the second he burst into the bathroom.

I look like shit.

The pink flush on his cheeks deepened to red as he approached the sink, dropping his head and turning on the water. Splashing his face and gasping at the cold. Fuck, I am such an idiot. It wasn’t supposed to turn out like this. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He was supposed to be cool, calm, and collected and sweep her off her feet with his newfound coolness. Instead, he had broken down and cried like a child in her arms until he passed out from all the emotional energy he expelled. Great. Way to look dumb, Jeon Jungkook. He scrubbed at his face with his palms, hoping to peel off a layer and reveal a better man, as if he was some kind of golden onion and not a fractured, incomplete, whiny little bitch.

“Hey. Hey! Maybe you’ve heard of the term facial peel, but what you are doing is not what the term means.”

Jungkook jumped at the interruption, and was greeted with a plop to the face from a fluffy white towel. His reflexes caught it right away, pressing it to his cheeks, embarrassed again. All he could muster out was a t-thanks, and then he started again as he felt her crouch and open the cabinet under the sink, accompanied by sounds of clunking.

“Here. Pick a toothbrush. Pink or purple?”

He yanked the towel off his face and saw himself in the mirror, his half-wet black hair sticking straight up, and then he looked down, startled and wide-eyed. She raised an eyebrow at him, down on one knee and prosing the choice of a light pink toothbrush in one hand and a lavender-colored one in the other.

She shrugged. “Sorry. Last ones in the multipack are these colors. I save the fun colors for guests so they can distinguish themselves.”

He glanced at the one in the holder and it had a black handle.

“Uh… I guess I’ll take the purple…”

He took it, careful not to made skin-to-skin contact.

She disappeared under the sink again.

“I have a travel toothpaste if–”

He jerked his head, his mouth full of suds.

“Or you can just use mine,” she said slowly, lowering her hand. She shoved the travel toothpaste back under the sink, presumably in its previous hiding place. “Not like we haven’t swapped spit before, I guess.”

He tried to apologize, but she stood up, waving it away.

“What do you want for breakfast?” she asked, taking her toothbrush and starting her own routine.

It felt…

Normal.

Shockingly, unbelievingly, scarily normal. Her and him, in close quarters, standing beside each other and sharing the mirror and the space. Similar to his small apartment back then. Similar to the tiny hotel rooms they sometimes visited when his previous roommate was there. These days Jungkook had a bigger apartment and lived alone. Just like her, it seemed. She had was a clean and modern bathroom, but he saw her touches all around it. The black cherry scented lotion. The large dark gray bath towel with a matching fluffy hair towel wrap hanging on a hook beside it. The black wire basket above the toilet held neatly stacked white rolls. They looked soft and plush.

Her toothbrush holder was matte black glass.

Sleek and elegant.

He leaned down and used his hands to cup some water, the used towel around his shoulders. Rinsed and spit, trying to be efficient. And not disgusting. He continued staring down at the sink bowl.

Unable to lift his head.

“You… You must be tired of me…” he mumbled, exhaling as evenly as he could, the mint flavor cooling his tongue and the inside of his mouth.

She answered slightly muffled.

But dead serious.

“You can stop pretending you are inconveniencing me and simply accept what I’m doing for you.”

Jungkook raised his head.

There was a brief heartbeat exchanged in the mirror. Seeing each other in reflection. Somehow it was more honest than being eye to eye. Well, of course, because he had been having trouble all morning making any real eye contact, but in that brief moment, in that second of time that felt like hours, in that gum bubble right before the jarring pop moment, she saw right through him. He let himself be seen, and it seemed as if she knew and accepted what his true feelings were, despite his fear of his wants being too ugly to admit. Knowing him better then he knew himself, just like how it always was.

Had been.

What?

She kept brushing her teeth absentmindedly, and then moved past him, picking up the other cup to rinse her own mouth and spit. He backed away, but not too far. Wiped his hands on the towel given to him. The unspoken intent lingered, do you still not understand what is happening here, and he did, but he was afraid to be wrong.

He was so very afraid.

And yet.

Her head was right there, soft hair and all.

His hand lifted.

She rose quickly and his hand retreated immediately. She was speaking and opening the mirror, revealing the hidden cabinet and an array of crammed skincare. All higher end brands, along with an onyx gua sha stone with its own stand, and a lip balm she plucked off the edge and applied.

“I have bread, eggs, cheese. Can make eggy toast topped with cheese and have kimchi on the side. Extra butter to make the bread crispier. You’ll like it.”

“I… wuh?”

You make the eggy toast and ate breakfast with Jungkook.

A big chunk of butter slapped into the hot pan. Then pan-toasting the bread on both sides until golden brown before pressing down the center of the bread slice with a ladle, creating a shallow bowl to drop an egg in. You had let the egg cook for a bit before sprinkling a little salt and white pepper, then added shredded cheese on top and covered the pan, giving it a few seconds to melt before removing the eggy bread from its warm home and onto a plate. Added some kimchi on the side for some prickled freshness and handed the meal to Jungkook, who had hovered around you the entire time, providing various oohs and aahs with your every action.

Your one-man hype squad.

It wasn’t the most Korean meal, but he had been drinking the night prior. A hangover meal of sorts.

You didn’t talk much.

You had already done enough. It was pretty obvious what was going on here. The real question was whether or not to let it happen. Still, you couldn’t let Jungkook cry himself to sleep in your arms the night before and not send him off with a full belly. Even if he never spoke to you again, it wouldn’t have sat right with you. It felt too heartless to straighten up and tell him to get out right after waking.

And, anyway.

You had missed him.

It made no sense. It wasn’t like you had deeply invested into those few months with him. You had been too caught up in your endless cycle of self-destruction to truly appreciate how much Jungkook liked you. It was obvious, of course. He followed you like a puppy and never wanted to leave your presence, but you had chalked it up to him being young and not knowing better. In fact, you had originally thought he was still chasing a fantasy up until last night, but no amount of your denial could explain away his words or those tears. He had grown up, at least enough to understand that reality and dreams weren’t one and the same. And yet he had clung onto those memories of you, even if he thought that the future he was heading towards was tasteless.

That took a certain kind of stubbornness.

Well, you must be stubborn to stay in love, no?

You paused mid-bite.

Jungkook was stuffing his face. You had made him two pieces. He had seemed very hungry. You spooned more kimchi onto his plate distractedly, your mind wandering. Devotion was stubbornness. Wavering was lack thereof. Stubbornness was often an act of selfishness and that was still true in love. It just depended on how one imposed that selfishness onto another.

You felt a tap on the back of your hand.

You started, blinking out of your thoughts.

He was staring.

“You didn’t finish eating,” Jungkook gulped, tilting his head. “Something wrong? I thought it was really tasty.”

This was coming from someone who would eat basically anything. Still, you took it as a compliment. Not because you needed to be complimented, no, because you saw his black-brown eyes sparkle when you half-smiled at his comment. Just for that. Just to give him the small happiness of knowing you valued his praise. You could be humble about the culinary skills you had acquired over the years simply so you didn’t look arrogant, but, then again, the result would be that Jungkook would feel as if his words weren’t worthwhile and that was not the truth.

Even if your mind wasn’t so sure, you still smiled for him.

No matter the result, you loved me back then, in the only way you know how. You taught me about your love, whether I believed in it or not. Very ox-like of you, Jeon Jungkook.

“Do you think we should go on a date?” you suddenly asked.

His big peepers popped open wide.

“A d-date?!”

“What should I wear?!”

“Nothing.”

Park Jimin and Kim Taehyung high-fived each other with a simultaneous maniacal giggle as Jungkook stood next to his open closet door with his eyebrow twitching. So much for having older friends giving their mature opinions.

“Very funny,” Jungkook muttered under his breath.

“Isn’t that how you get ‘em, JK?” Taehyung teased, grinning with all his teeth. Typically, Kim Taehyung gave off a mature, elegant vibe. He was the kind of handsome that could elevate any look with his strong features and cool demeanor. The deep baritone voice only added to his manliness. “Just rip off your shirt and bam!”

With close friends, though, Taehyung was an idiot.

“What if he walked into the restaurant and tore open his shirt?” Park Jimin snorted behind his small hand, trying to be polite but failing miserably with the nonsense coming out of his mouth. “Do you think his date would notice first or do you think he would get arrested first?” The epitome of cute and airy, Jimin was the type that ended up being social because he looked so approachable with his soft features and endearing eye smile. He always drew in a crowd with his genuine emotion behind his carefully considered words.

Which meant that Jimin was also the type to rub in the teasing until he really, really grated those nerves.

Sigh.

“You’re not helping, guys,” Jungkook growled, thumbing through his very monochrome closet. Black, white, gray, classic blue denim. Not much color. Shit, was he really this boring? Honestly, he ended up selecting basics mostly for the reducing decision fatigue when picking out an outfit for every day. It did not, however, help when he needed to impress.

Especially because Jungkook rarely wore or owned any formal wear.

Was a dress shirt too much? Too little? Not a good indication of the kind of man he was now? He didn’t want to portray like a better or false version of himself. But he had to look good. Fuck. This was way easier when his only goal was to get laid and not to have a relationship.

“You still haven’t told us who it is,” Taehyung piped up, still sitting on the end of Jungkook’s bed with Jimin. One would think the fashion model of the two would get up and start pulling things, but he didn’t budge.

“Yeah, we need deets,” Jimin chimed in. “We can’t suggest anything without context.”

Jungkook responded flatly. “It’s a girl.”

He could practically hear the eye roll in Jimin’s response. “Wow, what an underwhelming gender reveal. Next time bring those poppers with pink confetti while you’re at it.”

“Uh, well, do you know her personally or is this blind date status?” Taehyung asked, sounding confused.

“I know her.”

Jungkook knew precisely why Taehyung was confused, but didn’t address it. Jimin, however.

“Why are you being so cagey? By now you would have shown us a pic.”

Yeah, by now, he would have shown a face photo or even the dating profile. To be honest, Jimin was the most useful on pinpointing perfect outfits that screamed “fuck me now” even with only a few pics or a limited text exchange. He was some kind of wizard at that. Personal experience? Who knew. Taehyung ended up being emotional support and occasionally the voice of reason.

“Ugh, is it that stuck-up bitch from a couple months ago?” Taehyung suddenly stood up, coming up behind Jungkook. “I don’t like her.”

“I told you I didn’t even sleep with that one,” Jungkook mumbled, moving away as Taehyung thumbed through his jackets, took out a fitted light denim one, and put it on himself, modeling in the full-length mirror for who-the-hell-knows-what reason. Too casual, right?

“Good, because nobody liked her,” Jimin tutted.

Yet she did look similar to a clean someone.

Not as pretty, though, Jungkook knew.

Sometimes he had to take what he could get. Not that time, because they were both right. That woman’s personality was awful. Had been best to run right away. Jungkook frowned as Jimin stuck his hand out right in front of his face, waving it around.

“Give me your phone.”

“No.”

“We need pics!”

Jungkook offered one detail. “She’s hot.”

“No shit?!” Jimin gasped sarcastically. He staggered back with a fluff of his bleach blond hair. “That’s so out of character for you!”

Jungkook glared and thought about biting him.

Did not.

For now.

“Ah!”

Jungkook froze. That was the type of exclamation Taehyung let out when he realized something important. The kind where Taehyung pointed upward and popped his fist into his open palm, about to say the very important thing and blow everyone’s minds.

“It’s her, isn’t it?”

He could sense Taehyung was facing him now. Jungkook couldn’t raise his head to look. His abrupt muteness was enough of answer. He felt Taehyung’s strong hand on his shoulder, but he continued to stare at his clothes as if they could magically answer in his stead, chewing on the left side of his lower lip nervously.

“Am I right, Jungkookie?” Taehyung asked again softly. “I thought you said she disappeared.”

It’s impossible to fall in love when I have always been in love with you.

There was a pang in his chest, sharp and intense.

“Guess… Guess nobody disappears forever,” he finally muttered.

Jimin jerked back, stunned. “Woah, wait, wait.”

Taehyung knew more than Jimin. Not really for any other reason than gut feeling. Somehow, after he had finished moping and feeling sorry for himself, Jungkook had felt that Taehyung would understand the intensity of it all. Taehyung had a grounded personality, but there was certain je ne sais quoi about the dark-haired man. Call it a hunch from the partial truths of described rendezvous in Paris and his occasionally off-the-cuff viewpoint on things. Taehyung had always been inseparable from Jimin ever since they met, so Jungkook had to tell the other male too, but back then Jimin was kind of a…

Well.

A slut.

Safe and consensual, but dude had been going through his hoe phase. He hadn’t been in a place to understand how profound those memories had been for Jungkook. Therefore, Jungkook had just said he really loved her despite the short timeline. Jimin had told him he was an idiot to believe that. Taehyung had whacked Jimin in the back of the head for that. He did apologize right away, but it wasn’t until years later that Jimin really comprehended the depth and apologized. By then, though.

It was all too late.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Jimin worriedly chittered. “She broke your heart last time. Bad.”

Jungkook looked up.

“I’m fine.”

“Are you?” Taehyung persisted. “Come on, don’t act like we haven’t noticed you have a type. You think Jimin and I are cross-eyed and blind? Not to mention you usually drop girls like hot potatoes with your weak-ass excuses.”

“Yeah, for instance, you randomly stopped seeing one girl because she liked sweets,” Jimin pointed out.

“She likes sweets,” Jungkook interrupted. “But only sour candy. She would always give me any chocolate she received.”

Taehyung rubbed his forehead, his tan skin glowing under the overhead lights. “Dude.”

“This is not good for you.” Jimin sighed, expression apprehensive. He resembled the skeptical emoticon with his rounder and more animated face. “Setting aside if she has become a better person or not… why now? And could she really be as great as you think she is or are you trying to make her live up to an impossible fantasy?”

“It just happened,” Jungkook snapped. “We ran into each other the other night.”

Jimin frowned. “A little fast, isn’t it?” He was slipping into his Busan satoori with his frustration. It often came out around at the same time Jungkook’s did since they were born in the same area.

“Did you at least talk to her for a long time?” Taehyung playing devil’s advocate in this case. He loved a swift romance, as unlikely as it could be. Red string of fate, soulmates, the works. “What was it like?”

Jungkook would never call himself a poet.

He simply answered exactly how he felt.

“It was like I was able to finally come home after a long journey,” he breathed out.

Jimin and Taehyung exchanged a look. But Jungkook didn’t care anymore, lost in her smile, her touch, her smell, lost in that night. It didn’t make any sense, of course, because she was vibrant as she was calm, but that was how it was. Coming home. Like bursts of color back into his desaturated world. From the mundane to the extraordinary, even from something as basic as standing beside each other and brushing their teeth.

He had just liked knowing it was her.

“Did you guys sleep together?”

Jungkook gave Taehyung a side-eye. He got a shrug in response.

“No. We… went home.”

What?

Was he supposed to say, no, I ended up at her place and I cried myself to sleep in her arms? Hell no. Some things were meant to be secrets. Even Jungkook had good enough sense to leave well enough alone. Couple white lies here and there weren’t going to condemn him. Sex before marriage might, but, eh, in that case he had been damnned for long before now. Whoops.

“Uh huh,” Jimin mused. “Alright then. Let’s pick an outfit.”

“What about this?”

“Taehyung, you would wear that,” Jimin scolded, pulling out an olive-green bomber jacket.

“Aren’t sweater vests are outdated? I saw that on TikTok.”

“They’re not outdated!” Taehyung scolded Jungkook, putting back the black sweater vest with white trim. “Also, real life is not TikTok, dork. I was thinking without an inner shirt, anyway. Show off the arms.”

Jimin hummed, considering. “Something lighter. Do you have something similar in cream? Or beige? Plus some medium wash blue jeans and a studded belt. She was kinda edgy, I remember.”

“Uh, lemme look…”

“Beanie?”

“Yo, the hat hair?” The Busan dialect was coming out again due to Jimin’s agitation.

“He looks cute in them!”

“We’re not serving egg even if he is over easy.”

It took a moment for Jungkook to register the scalding degree of that burn.

“Hey!”

“What should I wear?”

“Clothes?”

You turned around to see Kang Hyungu with his raised hands and a clueless expression. “Normal people wear clothes to a date,” he reasonably stated.

You answered dryly.

“Very funny.”

You were not amused. The cerulean-haired guitarist struggled and turned away from the video call, rummaging around in his kitchen and making a lot of noise. From this angle you could peek the bottom of his dark purple undercut and his cutesy Pingu t-shirt. Hyungu was a very manly looking guy, but he never hesitated to wear graphics that he found adorable. Too secure not to.

“You didn’t order take-out again, did you?”

He made a noise that was neither affirmative or negative, which meant he definitely did. “I’m not in the mood to cook.” The word cook was being used generously here.

“Which means you made melodies all day, huh?” you interjected.

Hyungu stuck his big eyes and handsome (yet generally expressionless) face back onto the screen. “It’s such a burden to be so talented and hardworking, but someone has to do it.”

You ignored his plight. “Should I wear a dress?” you asked, pawing through your hanging articles of clothing.

“Duh.”

You frowned and looked over the dresses one by one. None of them felt right though. The date was a meal and then who knows. There was a variety of shops around the area, so it might be fun to look around and talk, perhaps. Tight dresses out, probably. You weren’t about to freeze your ass off for the vibes.

“Maybe I should wear pants?” you wondered out loud.

“Nah, noona. You look way better in dresses.”

Despite not having much expression around strangers, Hyungu had strong opinions when asked. In fact, he was so quiet that he often faded into the background before chiming in at the most random of times. He was one year younger than Jungkook. Upon first glance, he looked older, but anyone who knew Hyungu personally was subject to his seriously unserious nature.

“Who’s the guy?”

“Somebody I used to know,” you replied absentmindedly, pulling out a high-waisted black skirt with silver hardware and pleather suspenders. Hm.

You heard the frown in his voice. “Someone I know?”

“Nope.”

“I don’t like him.”

“You don’t like anybody I go on dates with,” you shot back, pulling out a white ruffled shirt and a black velvet one. The skirt was designed to sit right under the bust so some type of undershirt was a must. The white seemed too contrasting. You could unbutton a few buttons of the black velvet dress shirt, or maybe go for a fitted red-and-black striped top to make it more casual. Maybe more casual was the move. The sushi restaurant wasn’t upscale. But, also, you didn’t care about being overdressed. A loose t-shirt might be a cool vibe too. Choices.

“They like you for the wrong reasons,” Hyungu scolded, ramming noodles into his mouth.

“Who cares?”

Nah, black velvet shirt it was. More comfortable and the mixing of textures made for a good monotone outfit. Plain black knit thigh-high socks were a no-brainer too. Plus, then you could wear black boots which was better for the colder weather.

“I do! They’re lame and disrespectful.”

You hunted for your sterling silver guitar pick necklace. “I keep telling you that I’m not looking for a relationship with them.”

“Well, you should look for a relationship with someone.”

You upturned your lips and raised an eyebrow at the screen of your phone propped up against your perfumes. Hyungu’s face still hadn’t changed much from his baseline neutral, other than one cheek bouncing up and down with each chew. At least he had the decency to keep his mouth shut. “This again?”

“You deserve to be happy, noona.”

He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

You paused.

Then you rolled your eyes. “Some guy isn’t gonna make me happy.”

“The guy will make you happy.” And then Hyungu shoveled some rice in his mouth. He was a man of equality. All carbs were his friends.

You let out a silent, heavy exhale. “You’re so sure about that.”

“Yeah, I am,” he continued with a munch. “Even if you’re delusional about it.”

You puffed one cheek. “I’m not delusional about anything. I’m very rational.”

“I might have been drunk but I wasn’t blind, noona.”

You froze.

“I’ve never seen you act that way around a guy, ever.”

You tapped your fingertips against your dresser drawer, out of his field of view. The long seconds ticked by. Fuck it. “What do you think of him?” you questioned.

Hyungu made a scrunched face as he fought with the lid of a container that seemed to contain cucumber salad. His mother must have made it for him. “What was his name again?”

“Jeon Jungkook.”

“Oh. Yeah, he was with the group that was friends of the band, right?”

“Yeah.”

He paused, twisting his lips to one side. “Mmm, can’t really remember that well. It was kind of noisy and you know how it is for me when there’s a bigger group and I’m not super close with anyone there.”

Your shoulders slumped. “I thought you said you were fine.”

He waved a hand, debating for a moment before simply eating out of the container. “Gotta keep trying to get used to it. Anyway, I was more focused on getting along with the band since we have five more shows. But he did help us in getting home. He must not be a bad guy.” He looked up at you. In some ways, Hyungu was the most honest when he was playing guitar. People not close to him found him hard to read.

He was no mystery to you, though.

“Can’t you tell that he really likes you?”

You broke his gaze, almost guiltily.

“No one is supposed to like me. I’m scary on purpose.”

Hyungu laughed.

“You’re never been scary, noona.”

In the silence that followed, you and Hyungu had a silent conversation in words unsaid. You didn’t look towards the screen, preferring instead to turn around and look through your jackets, pretending to search for something. You had been told before that you were unapproachable. That was by choice. You didn’t need nosy loons talking about shit that they didn’t know about. Thankfully, Hyungu had never done that. He simply told you what was what. Again, he was highly observant and, apparently, he had paid attention to Jungkook’s obvious signals.

“I don’t know the history between you two, but you would be crazy not to go for someone who looks at you like that, noona.”

You turned around halfway, cocking your head. “Have you ever known me not to be crazy?”

He shot you one of those looks of his. The fed-up-with-your-shit look. “Then you would be stupid. And I know you’re not stupid,” he warned, as if it was a threat. “Wear your long black fur coat. My mom is calling. Have fun.”

And then you saw him reach over and end the video call.

You stared at the phone screen as it faded to black.

Then you scoffed, shaking your head.

“No need to be so weird about it, sheesh…”

“Uh, before I forget, I meant to tell you that you look really nice today, noona.”

She stepped out of the restaurant and gave him an amused smile. “After the meal?”

“S-Sorry!”

Jungkook knew Jimin and Taehyung would call him an idiot. Taehyung had told him repeatedly to remember to compliment her and stuff like that, but they had gotten so caught up with catching up on each other’s lives after their parting that Jungkook had forgotten. He had told her about his video editing job at a music company and how he was working more towards production and directing. She had told him about how she worked to live, but her day-to-day job turned out to be a book editor with occasional other side projects. Somehow, strangely similar types of careers. Jungkook had told her about his friends and their antics. How he realized he was losing opportunities to make memories by staying in so he was trying to go out more to treasure those people. She had told him about how she never grew out of her gaming habit and how, with money, it had gotten worse. And how the rest of her free time and cash was spent on going to festivals and events to support Hyungu and his band, but it turned out she really loved discovering indie music as much as the next pop hit.

It was as if they were…

Friends.

It had been so easy, so simple despite his initial awkwardness. He had thought, for a moment, that she regretted asking him, but as soon as they sat down, she gently prodded him with conversation. The restaurant atmosphere left them alone together out in public. It was surprising because he remembered, back then at the PC bang, she had been prickly and reluctant to engage in human interaction. Now, she was confident and involved in their conversation. He saw flashes of her old, closed-off self when she paused before telling him something about herself.

But then she seemed to brush it aside and spoke calmly.

Is it because of me?

He didn’t know. It was clear, however, that things had changed.

She had become more whole and, in turn, more beautiful.

“Thanks, though,” she said with a laugh, buttoning her long black fur coat. Jungkook was a bit said about that because the all-black skirt and velvet shirt combo with the guitar pick silver necklace was so cool. Still, it was a frigid night, so he understood.

“I really did mean to tell you right away,” he insisted. They had chosen to walk around a bit to walk off the Japanese food they had just enjoyed. He was jam-packed with sushi.

“Your stunned face tipped me off enough. And the literal five seconds of silence and constant staring when I sat down.”

He felt his cheeks heat. “O… Oh.”

“I like how you look today too.”

She smiled at him.

Jungkook nearly stumbled. “T-Thanks! Although… I actually had a little help,” he admitted, sticking his hands in the pockets of his olive-green bomber jacket again. He had almost tripped only because his black combat boots had a platform. That was all. Yeah. Not because he dearly loved her smiling at him or anything.

“Well, they have a good eye, so I appreciate them.”

He tried not to roll his eyes. “They would love to hear that.” But he wasn’t going to tell them. Nope.

“Hey.”

He stopped as she paused on the sidewalk. Turned around and she was looking down the street before back at him. A moment of hesitation.

Then.

She held out her hand.

Jungkook stared at it with wide eyes, his jaw dropping.

Her expression was between sheepish and amused, the corner of her lips ticking upwards. “This is a date, right? Let’s try it. Holding hands.”

He didn’t know how to feel. It wasn’t as if he was foreign to public displays of affection, but back then he had always been the one to initiate. It had seemed that she tolerated it and he had continued to do it, blind to the inequality of affection. She had only initiated sexual activity, about as often as he did. But something like this? It was only now that he realized how much he had wished she had, even if only in private.

To others, it would seem odd that such a small action of affection would hold much significance.

He reached out.

Fingertips hovering over her palm.

He raised his head and Jungkook looked right at her, blinking hard, wondering if he was dreaming.

“Is it… Is it really okay?”

Her small smile shone in her eyes.

“Unless you have sweaty hands?” she lightly joked.

He felt his cheeks flush hotly. The innocent comment suddenly reminded him. “Oh, uh… k-kinda, actually… w-well, they might g-get clammy ‘cause they get that way when I’m nervous, um…”

She let out a chuckle and dropped her hand.

“Okay.”

Before he could blurt out a hasty, w-wait, she stepped forward and hooked her hand in the crook of his elbow, resting her fingers on his right forearm, so close now that he could smell her warm, comforting perfume.

“How about this?”

She tugged him forward with their linked arms. He looked down at her, startled, but now there was mischievous glint in those mysterious orbs shadowed by lashes. His skin prickled from the closeness, even underneath all the layers. Legs moving forward even if his brain hadn’t caught up.

“You thought I didn’t remember that you like skinship?”

“I… I thought…” He swallowed, trying to clear his throat and the fluttering of butterflies that had shot up from his stomach and into his throat. “I thought you hated it.”

She shrugged. “Normally I do. But I want you to be my exception.”

It was a good thing walking was a muscle memory action because Jungkook was pretty sure he was in a different daydream dimension at her response. Er, nightdream? Whatever. He couldn’t fuck this up. Well, the crying on the couch was always a point against him, probably. He winced at the cringey memory.

“Noona, um.”

“Hmm?”

“I’m sorry about the other night to your place.”

“You mean when you sobbed and became a puddle on my sofa.”

Ouch. “Y-Yeah…”

“I can’t say I expected it. It’s all good though. I’ve fallen asleep on that couch countless times.”

It’s impossible to fall in love when I have always been in love with you. At the time, he had been too emotional to gauge her response to everything he said. Maybe this was all a pity ploy to his extreme reaction. He didn’t want to believe that, but his mind was restless at the thought.

He needed to know.

“I meant it though. Everything I said.”

“I never took you for a liar,” she answered, holding onto him as they walked in step, their bodies lit up by the various colored lights each shop used to entice customers to enter.

He had to inhale deeply before asking. “I should have asked you how you felt though, before running my mouth like that.”

There was sound all around them. Noisy cars. Music from inside the stores and blasting dully from vehicles. Chatter from people all around them, on phones or huddled together. The echoes of steps blending together into an endless nighttime march. The occasional laugh or dinging of a bell when someone left a store. People who passed them glanced quickly before looking away.

It was conceited, but Jungkook enjoyed seeing their flashes of envy, even if all strangers could see was their outward appearance.

None of them knew the whirlwind between these bodies.

“I am the kind of person that always believed the past is in the past,” she finally said, holding onto him tighter. He tried not to stiffen when he realized the back of his upper arm was right by the side of her clothed breasts. “It took me a while to accept that I can’t do anything about the past or how it affected me. Likewise, I don’t really believe in reconnecting with people. Drifting apart is natural. Not negative or positive, per se. Just happens. I always believed it happens for a reason.”

Oh.

He bit the left side of his lower lip. She continued.

“You asked me back then, aren’t you afraid that I’ll forget you? I answered a bit cheekily, I remember, but your question stuck with me. Nobody has ever asked me that, you know? In fact, I am used to being forgotten.”

There was something about her voice.

The quality of it had gotten mistier. Introspective. And hurt. It was not directed at him, but it was there despite an obvious attempt on hiding it. He felt her grasp onto him tighter, although maybe it was less about the physical aspect and rather to the things he had said.

“I had become so used to it, in fact, that I thought your question was ridiculous. Forget me? Of course, you will. It would be better if you do. We all need to move on from our past and not cling to a memory holding us back.” She let out a mirthless laugh, but softened, leaning her head against his shoulder. If the current topic wasn’t so serious, Jungkook would have been over the moon. His heart beat fast regardless. “But you didn’t forget me. Even after all this time. I thought it was just because you wanted your dick blown.”

To be fair, that was a reason on the list.

Lower priority, but there.

Jungkook, once again, shut his mouth and left well enough alone.

She let out a breath.

It quivered in the cold, crisp night air and disappeared.

“I use reason and logic in my everyday life to interact with others. To maintain relationships. But love? Love is something that has no reason. I don’t know how I feel towards the idea. I would not say the emotion is afraid, but it is not a positive one either. The idea of love constantly reminds me that it is something I lack. That something so basic was supposed to be mine, but I was denied it throughout my childhood without knowing it.”

She stopped.

Jungkook turned and saw she was gazing up at the moon. There were no stars visible from the city, but everyone knew they were up there.

“Did you notice I don’t talk about my parents?” she asked softly.

He did. “Yeah.”

Her tone seemed apologetic. “Is it selfish to expect some kind of affection from those who birthed you? Or even only a simple co-habitation relationship? Anything other than nothing?”

Well, shit. “I don’t think so.”

She didn’t say anything for a moment.

“I almost wished they had given me away. Or hated me. Something. Anything.”

Jungkook didn’t know what to say.

Firstly, because he was not good at comforting anyone. Not even himself. He was simply sulky until he kinda got over it. Granted, much of it was first-world problems. He could always go running to his parents for advice or solutions if he couldn’t think of any. Or his friends. But deeply personal stuff he kept to himself. It felt almost a burden to say something, so on some level he could understand the importance of what she was saying. Why it was significant that she felt the need to tell him. He could feel it and he was grateful she was willing to express it to him.

“I don’t want you to experience a fraction of what I did. I don’t even know how deeply those moments are embedded in me,” she sighed, loosening her grip on him. “I see those moments reflected in my instincts. The scars of my past stick to the soles of my shoes no matter where I step. I don’t know how much of it is my true feelings or something that is simply fundamentally wrong with me.”

He remembered something.

“But you said you want to learn love,” he said quietly.

They stayed beside each other, warmth whirling with warmth even when surrounded by cold, crisp air.

“I did say that, yeah.”

Then all those littler things. The things she said and the way she said them. The offer.

“I don’t really understand love either,” Jungkook admitted.

She chuckled. “Yeah, I got that from your chaotic reentry back into my life.”

Their arms were still entangled. Although she was the one holding onto him, Jungkook was the one who brought his arm closer to his body, pinning her forearm to him. She accepted it, not moving away. His body sung at the contact but his thoughts trembled.

He whispered to the moon and the darkness above them.

“I’m scared that one day you won’t want me to be in your life anymore. Again.”

He couldn’t look at her. He was not about to bawl in public, for fuck’s sake.

“Don’t let this end.”

I have always been in love with you.

No person could fill that void. He tried, countless times. Jungkook knew it was impossible, stupid, pathetic, crazy, all the conclusions. But it was not crazy to know that he would never be the same. Even so, he could have lived a satisfactory life. A fun one, even. It was not fair to chase those that didn’t want to be found, so he hadn’t. If it was all for the best, then it was for the best.

But she came back to him.

His peppermint gum love.

“I’ll be stuck to you, you know.”

He turned his head and found her looking back at him. His pit-a-pat heartbeat, following the pop of each bubble, sharp and exciting, and he savored it. The seconds, the moments, the memories, all swirling into one. Everything. Everything, bright and intense and reminding him how it was like to live life.

Jungkook grinned.

“Okay.”

She smiled and raised herself.

And kissed him.

It was as if his fractured, desaturated world fell into place all at once and color burst forth.

Her soft scent pressed up against him, persistent, clinging, and he drowned in it, leaning into her lips, the softness and honesty together. Her fingers wrapped around his forearm to steady herself, their bodies now closer together, one of her legs between his. She had stepped forward to turn and make the distance. He held her, his left arm around her waist, and he wondered how it got there. A reflexive reaction, apparently.

She broke apart, her lingering exhale warming his lips.

He frowned slightly, opening his eyes.

“Heh. That’s it for now. We shouldn’t be so forward in public, after all,” she pointed out with a smirk.

Jungkook narrowed his eyes. Put on his best, most convincing pout. “Who cares?”

She was laughing, shaking her head at him. “I do. You want to start this off with an arrest for public indecency? That’s a bang for sure.” She pulled on his arm, indicating them towards the sidewalk again.

“Hmph, fine, but one more kiss.”

And he yanked her back, pressing his lips to hers again, and if this was impossible, stupid, pathetic, crazy, if he really was a fool, then he was one forever, smiling into her smile, her hands coming up to cup his cheeks, his arms around her waist, the unfaded memories and the engraved present finally meeting.

This is love.

He didn’t understand it, but he didn’t have to understand for his body to know it was real.

She leaned forward, past his nose and to his ear.

“You like kisses, huh?”

It was then that Jungkook realized his body did, in fact, know something.

“Um… This has never happened before,” he mumbled, his cheeks burning.

She held tightly onto the collar of his jacket, her hair against his chin. Half of it was pulled back with a black claw clip. It gave an elegant yet casual look while also keeping him from hiding his blushing face from bystanders.

Just his luck.

“Maybe you didn’t remember, but you also would get instantly hard whenever I kissed you back then too,” she teased, her warm breath grazing his ear. She was making it worse. Shit. Jungkook tried to bite the inside of his cheek. Her thigh was pressed between his legs so there wasn’t much hiding of anything.

“Noona, please shut up.”

“Although maybe not with such innocent kisses.”

“Noona, please…”

You danced your fingers up his chest.

Each point of contact going from fingertip to fingernail. Bated breath. Strangeness and familiarity all at once, sitting on your bed with only the orb-shaped lamp on, cool blue artificial moonlight looking down upon the magic unfolding in this room. His hand raised and closed in around yours.

You looked up as warmth encircled your touch.

Jungkook smiled nervously.

“Does it feel weird?” you asked him.

“A… A little bit,” he whispered. There was no reason to. Pointless, really, because you could hear the neighbor downstairs having some sort of wild party. Your apartment was silent. “Mostly because I used to think about it a lot.”

You raised your eyebrows. “You think you’ll stop thinking about sex after I give it to you? Maybe I shouldn’t, then.”

“That’s not what I meant!”

He puffed his cheeks in exasperation. He grabbed your hand tighter, whining your name without the honorific, and you were suddenly transported to the past. Breathless nights, falling into a melody of bodies, and you pressed your knuckles against his chest, making Jungkook yelp and nearly fall over, catching himself with his hands before freezing up as you hovered over him, crossing your arm over his front and planting your palm on the bed under his armpit. He was raised to his elbows, looking up at you with those wide, dark brown eyes. Pink lips parted, the two silver rings gleaming at the right edge of his lower lip and that familiar mole underneath punctuating every surprise and every smile.

What was that phrase?

Live fast.

It had always been like that, though.

Die young.

Would you ever really age if you were always in the perpetual state of learning to love Jeon Jungkook?

You lowered your head and kissed him.

You were well aware that this was probably too much all at once and yet there was also so much time lost from the journey apart. Maybe necessary. But bad decisions could have good consequences. A kiss for the mole under his lips first, for old time’s sake. Then his waiting mouth. You tilted your head and kissed him deeper this time, shivering at his familiar clean scent. Your other hand rose and ghosted his jaw, sliding your tongue into his mouth as he moaned. Fingers sliding into his soft hair, slowly thrusting your tongue in and out before he caught it with his teeth and gently sucked on it, running one hand over your waist, pressing his fingers into your side.

You backed off a little and flicked your tongue along his lower lip, exhaling into his mouth.

“Remember you used to be a freak?”

His jacket was hanging on your desk chair but he was still in his beige knit vest top.

His brows furrowed.

“I’m not a freak,” he insisted.

You curled your grip into his scalp and tugged. His head tipped back and his eyes slipped closed, shuddering, a mute whine in his throat, his own hold on your waist tightening, blocked by layers of your skirt and tucked-in shirt. You pulled harder and his lashes fluttered, his chin lifting and exposing his throat to your lips. Light kisses, barely there. You were pretty sure the words coming out of his mouth were a lie because his body was telling you the complete opposite.

He hadn’t changed that much in that respect.

Heh.

You ran the tip of your tongue from between his collarbones, up his trembling neck, stopping at his chin to push his head back down and claim his gasping mouth with a fierce kiss.

There was no hesitation now.

You had been worried that somehow maybe your bodies wouldn’t click. Maybe you wouldn’t feel the same level of exhilaration or enjoyment. And it wasn’t the same. Not at all. No, as you leaned in more, trying to force him to yield, and he refused, pulling your hand down from his hair and sliding it under the hem of his top, making you touch him instead, trapping you in the lip-lock, no, this was refined hunger meeting a refined flavor, and you dug your nails into his flexed abs, causing him to break the kiss and throw his head back, moaning to your ceiling.

You lifted your chin as he pushed your hand up higher.

Looked down at him as you sunk your nails into his flesh and dragged down, watching his expression flicker between pain and pleasure, his eyes turning glassy with lust, looking right back at you. Unashamed.

He tugged your hand back up again, between his tense pecs.

Your breathing shallowed.

You scratched him again, so hard that it left irritated pink lines onto his skin.

Jungkook whimpered, his black hair messy and fallen over his forehead.

I wanted everything about you.

You pulled back and seized the bottom of his top, dragging it up and over his head with his help, falling into his arms as he sat up, smacking your palms into his broad back. Taking that part of him too, irritated red lines all over, and kisses over his jaw, his naked chest against your clothed chest, his own hands clutching fistfuls of your velvet shirt, chasing after your lips.

I still do.

Your skirt had a silver zipper straight down the front center. You felt him grip the pull and check if it was working one. Smiled as he gasped, realizing it was. It even detached at the hem so all you had to do was shrug out of the suspenders. It fell to the floor with the heavy clink of metal from the clasps.

You swung a leg over him and straddled his lap.

Him shirtless, his torso covered in your violent marks.

Your hips colliding into the front of his jeans.

He groaned in your face.

“F-Fuuuuck…”

You gripped his studded belt with one hand and grinded against him. The first few buttons of your shirt were open and the slick backside of the velvet fabric caused the collar to slide off one of your shoulders, exposing your collarbone. His hands cupped your ass, sinking into the curve, and you ducked down to kiss him again, again, grabbing onto his bare shoulder for support.

His breathing hitched as your hand came close to his neck.

The impulse.

Hot and hard.

You positioned your hand around his neck and squeezed the arteries, choking him.

The sensation of power, the taste of his whine, his larger frame trembling under you, and Jungkook pressed your clothed heat into his trapped erection and succumbed to the ravenous nature of your kiss. It was the same and it was different. Layers of passion on passion. Intense and sending shivers from you to him. Back then, he was driven by inexperience. There was arousal in his fumbling and frustration, but none now when he reached for the buttons, flicking then apart with ease even as you choked him and gripped his belt. Your body faintly exposed under the folds of the lush fabric, but you didn’t drop it, instead catching his lower lip with your teeth and sucking on it tightly.

Letting him go with a pop.

His eyes rolled back, that underlip mole quivering in anticipation.

Pause.

You pulled him towards you by his neck as his vision reoriented. Hazy and lust-drunk, but unequivocally trained on you, his grip digging into your thighs. Seconds filled with rattling breaths, pushing him to the edge, and the impulse rose again. Something you used to tell him. You hadn’t really meant it back then. It was a display of fantasy then. For show. For the mood.

But things were different now.

“You will always be mine,” you growled millimeters from Jungkook’s thin breath.

His half-lidded eyes shimmered. He couldn’t respond, too lost in the headiness of lost air. But his body knew. The body has its own language and his agreed.

The corners of his open mouth lifted.

You let go of his neck and grasped handfuls of his hair, yanking his head back, his wanton moan pitching and falling, almost going limp in your hold as oxygen flooded back into his brain. You licked up his hot throat, closing your eyes, savoring the vibration of his cries and the desperate way he pinned your lower body to his, begging for release but too incoherent from the burst of overwhelming sensations to make them audible.

“And I will try to be everything you need until I run out of time,” you murmured to his raging pulse under your lips.

Maybe you would always struggle to define the word love.

Maybe you would never know.

But you didn’t need to know to listen to what your body wanted.

I don’t need to know love to be sure of loving you.

Your velvet shirt fell to the floor. You slid down between his legs. Worked together to undo his belt, glancing up at him and seeing your red marks on his chest. The rise and fall of his pants. Higher. Seeing him watching you as you pushed down his jeans. Closing in. Tracing the edge of your teeth with your tongue as you palmed him over his boxer briefs, cocking an eyebrow at his soft cry that he turned into a hiss under your direct attention.

“Embarrassed?” you taunted.

Jungkook bit the side of his lip. “No.”

You hooked your pinky finger over the waistband of those Calvin Klein’s.

“You sure?”

Desperation crawling into his gaze as your thumb rubbed against the hard shaft. Several seconds of stroking and you stretched out the waistband, rubbing a slow circle, molding the fabric to the swollen head of his cock, smiling as his cut v-line underneath was revealed.

“P-Please…” he gasped above you.

Took your time to make eye contact again. You cocked your head to his crotch.

“Go on. Take it off then.”

His erection popped out. Dark red, rock-hard, begging for your mouth.

Unfortunately, Jungkook knew how you operated.

Flashes of the past and present. Heavy nights. Early mornings. Cold rooms with warm bodies. Your hands on his knees, spreading them apart and leaning in. Lips working the inside of his thighs. Kisses. Bites. Sucking. Rushing as much as moving slowly, breathing hotly onto his cock and watching it twitch at the heat. A flicker of your gaze and the needy anticipation written all over his face. The same wide-eyed stare from back then and, now, accented by piercings and tattoos running up his right arms, his muscles tense and rippling from trying to stay still under your unspoken control.

Your lips closed in around his girth and you shoved him down to the depths of your throat.

“A-Ah, fuuuuuuuck…”

It was a familiar stretch of your muscles. He was at his hardest, giving you the freedom to glide up and down with little resistance, positioning your head at the correct angle to receive him as deep as possible. You pressed your lips inward as you rose to the tip, curving your tongue around. Up and over. Coating him with saliva and stimulating that thin skin, increasing the sensitivity with the attracting nature of water to water made more powerful by the rubbing of your tongue, sinking your nails into the insides of his thighs. Piling on sensation after sensation. Crisp with pain. Intense from pleasure. Tighter, licking all over, sliding him against the ridges of the roof of your mouth.

Jungkook panted your name, the syllables slipping into moans, losing himself to the wet bliss.

You almost didn’t catch the fleeting words his gasp.

“Yeah… it’s… s-supposed to feel l-like this…”

His hips tensed under you but you kept him down with the base of your palms, leaving him at the mercy of your pace. The familiar tingling at the back of your head, keeping the angle perfect and the depth steady, and he was right, yes, this was how it was supposed to feel – the blinding rush of adrenaline, desire, and connection all swirling into one indiscernible emotion. The kind of heat that was beyond raw passion, closer, the kind of satisfaction that was pleasure on many different levels, so close, the kind of sex that people could only dream about.

There.

A torn moan and Jungkook’s hips bucked into your face, sliding down your throat and spilling his thick, salty orgasm into the tight pocket. You locked your shoulders and stopped moving, feeling his cock shudder and throb. His cum oozing upward, and you swallowed, chest tight. He cried out above you but you held him down and swallowed again, inhaling much needed air, his strong taste coating your tongue, tactile and delicious.

Truly.

Delicious.

You had almost forgotten how attracted you had been to his pheromones, but clearly your drenched panties hadn’t. You could even smell yourself from here. Also, your knees were killing you. Guess those years had an affect on your body after all, even if your brain had been subconsciously stuck on Jeon Jungkook.

The body always remembers.

To think you had said that just to be a smartass but Jungkook had unintentionally taken it seriously and it had turned out to be true all along.

A happy little accident.

You crawled up his body and he greeted you with kiss after fervent kiss. Somehow, he didn’t seem to mind that you had only just swallowed his cum. Then again, Jungkook would never beat the freak allegations. You were the only one making those allegations but, hey, you did know him best, even if neither you nor him knew that.

He unhooked your bra.

You slipped out of it, letting the black lace cups flop into the pile of his jeans, belt, and underwear on the floor. You were straddling his lap, knees on the bed, and he pulled you in deeper, giving you a moment to adjust. Stared into your eyes fiercely, the captured universes in those dark brown orbs glimmering with determination.

“Don’t look away,” he ordered. Not very sternly, but you smiled all the same, your arm around his shoulders, bare breasts and hard nipples right under his chin. Jungkook couldn’t intimidate you for shit. It was the big peepers, probably.

“Sure.”

He narrowed his eyes.

A stare down. Seconds saturated with anticipation. He raised his right hand, the two center fingers grouped together and the rest splayed out. Your smirk widened. Closer to you. Before he could say the words, open your mouth, your lips parted and you leaned in, swirling your tongue around his fingers, shifting your line of sight to admire the tattoos down his arm.

Jungkook sucked in a breath, stifling his awed moan.

Your eyes flickered back up to his face and you sucked on his fingers, directly looking at him. Even tilting your head and curving his fingertips down your throat, manipulating his movement with your tongue and your inner muscles. He shuddered, speechless at the arousing nature of this obscenity. You held yourself steady by splaying your fingers over his shoulder blades, letting him slowly thrust in and out of your mouth, the glossiness of your spit catching the low light.

“F-Fuck…” Jungkook breathed. “You’re so sexy.”

You let your self-satisfied agreement show in the lowering of your lashes.

He grinned, noticing it right away, his expression pleased and frustrated all at once. Enjoyed the show for a few more moments and then pulled out. You held on until the very last second, releasing him with a wet, lewd pop. Loud in the silence of labored breathing and intense eye contact. His other hand at your waist nudged your ass. You lifted yourself up. His right hand slid between your legs, his two wet fingers grazing the edge of your dampened panties.

“You smell so damn good,” he murmured, looking down to bear witness. “I want it smeared all over me.”

“I told you you’re a freak.”

“Yeah, I am.”

You would have rolled your eyes at his now confession if it wasn’t for him hooking the edge of your panties and bunching them to the side while at the same time closing the distance between your chest and mouth, and suddenly you were clutching his head with both hands, gasping, tangling your fingers in his hair as he sucked on your nipple and sunk his two fingers into your wet pussy.

Jungkook wouldn’t give it to you if he thought you couldn’t take it.

Your back arched reflexively, thrusting your chest into his face, and your hips rolled, thrusting his two wetted fingers into you. He got the hint, following your body rhythm, deep and rough, making the visceral pleasure spiral in your tightened core. Of course, you had sex after Jungkook. Shitty sex, subpar sex, better than average sex, mind-numbing sex. But it had always come at the price of your own expertise. It was never about how well they matched you, because they never did. They never had the time to. But not Jungkook.

His body remembered.

Your breathing deepened and he increased the pace, the fervor, switching sides of your chest and catching your hard nipple between his teeth. Pressing his tongue tip into it, rubbing forcefully and then sucking. Lips and then tongue, back and forth, thrusting up into you, and you gave in, locking your hips to take the wanted abuse, letting the rising orgasm take command. Blood roaring in your veins, heartbeat at your throat, hard, fast, intense, your tense thighs trembling, tipping your head back.

Closing your eyes.

Moaning his name.

You pulled on his hair, hard.

Jungkook whined under you but he didn’t let go. Mouth too busy to speak. The declaration tumbled out of your open mouth.

“Close… fuck, I’m gonna cum…”

The constricted strain in your chest burst, and you threw you head back and sighed, low and wanton, prickling nerves racing up and across your back. Your inner walls pulsating. The heavy, sweet scent of your climax hit you first, soaking Jungkook’s hand, sticking to the insides of your thighs, and then uncontrollable shivers overtook your hips, gasping as his mouth left your chest, the abrupt loss of heat leaving your nipple cold. He moaned with you, his fingers buried into your spasming pussy, enjoying every second of feeling your orgasm, his thumb closing in to press down on your throbbing, slick clit.

You sucked in a sharp inhale.

He held it there, only adding pressure to the hyper sensitive nerves, letting your ride out your orgasm with your hands still gripping his head. You could feel the afterglow flutter in your lungs. Slow and deep shaking breaths.

Damn.

“You’re still the best at fingering me,” you gasped.

You lowered your head and he chuckled faintly. Mischief sparkling in his dark brown eyes under messy black strands. “Good.” Sounded and looked very proud of himself.

Fuck, you waned to kiss him so bad.

So you did.

Again and again.

With Jungkook, it was easy. With Jungkook, there was never a question. You had just questioned it because you had thought it was the right thing to do. He had questioned it because he had been afraid. You hadn’t understood it and neither had he. Nobody did. But that didn’t matter, because as naturally as the wind blew, so did you and Jungkook tumble to the bed, him licking off your juices on his fingers and groaning, savoring your flavor. Hands all over each other, recalling all his erogenous zones and listening to his sounds again, your heartbeat racing at the pitch in his deep tone, the desperation in the call of your name.

You felt him cup your pussy and smear your juices all over his palm.

Glanced down and saw him grip his half-hard cock with his now-wet hand, moaning into your ear, heating your skin with his need.

You tilted your head more.

His lips found the pocket right under your earlobe.

You sat down on his raised thigh and rubbed yourself against his flexed muscle as he jacked himself off, sparks flying throughout your body, from his mouth attached to your skin and the hardness between your legs, watching him pleasure himself below you. The wet and slick quality of your previous orgasm increased the friction, and you tilted your hips forward a little more, angling the pressure to your clit, fuck, grasping the pillow under Jungkook’s head so tight that you felt your knuckles strain. Intense made more intense by his teeth. His tongue. His lips. Dancing around your ear, catching the curve, biting down, his lustful groan muffled in his throat.

Closer.

You knew.

He knew.

Jungkook snapped back and ground his teeth, whining in his chest, gripping his cock covered in your cum and his pre-cum beading at the purple-red tip. You also froze, clenching your jaw as the climb to release was cut off, sending your body into an intense array of emotions. Want. Greed. Voraciousness. The edging radiated throughout your veins, primal need pleading you to keep going, but every second wasted was another layer, threatening to amplify the next orgasm.

Which was exactly what you and Jungkook wanted.

He didn’t have to ask you what your favorite position was. He liked them all, of course, for different reasons. Doggy for the view. One leg against his chest for something to hold onto while having some room to move. Regular missionary to hold your face and kiss you in between thrusts.

But.

The condoms were on your bedside table. It took him no time at all to rip one open and roll in down, groaning at the sight of you lifting your legs up to your chest, spreading your wet pussy and tight ass for him to see. His voice was low and hoarse from exertion, but he didn’t seem to notice or mind, scooting himself forward to pin your thighs down with his chest, positioning himself right in front of your entrance.

“I fucking love that view,” he heatedly breathed out.

You grinned. “I know.”

Slowly.

Jungkook folded you in half, trapping your body between his chest and mattress and sank into you, locking eyes at the same time.

His favorite position was one and the same with yours.

“Ugh, you feel so fucking good,” he swore, stopping when he was buried balls deep, his cock twitching inside you. You appreciated it.

“Take it slow,” you hummed, nonchalantly.

Well.

A muscle in his cheek twitched. His long bangs were all over his face but you couldn’t miss his death stare. Jungkook mouthed, fuck you, and you mouthed back, you are, before lifting himself to grip your calves, pushing your thighs down onto your ribs. He slowly and deliberately thrust into you. Taunting you to balk under his stare, but you did not, rising to the occasion. Literally. Your ass raised off the mattress as he snapped his hips in and he groaned deeply, clenching his jaw as your pussy squeezed him all over.

He didn’t look away, but he was warning you.

He slid out again. Then back in.

You did it again.

He growled and slammed his hard length back into you, dropping down. His palms smacked down onto the mattress and he bent over even more to hit that wicked depth, resulting in instant ecstasy radiating through your weighted lungs. You matched his ferocity. Your arms over your head and pushing back against the headboard, and he pounded you. Hard and intense and each collision knocking the wind out of your lungs, this is it, losing yourself to him, him losing himself to you, letting the carnal instinct take over. The rhythmic slap of hips to hips, wetness, drenched in your sex and his sweat. Every so often in the madness, you caught a glimpse of his gaze, fucked-out and craving more, and you saw your reflection in his eyes.

Mirroring him.

Your breath stilled in your throat.

The compounding sensations built and your body didn’t stop reacting. Time slowed down and seemed fast all at once, this is love, something your tried so hard to understand but screw it, fuck understanding and fuck believing in it, reaching up and curling your hand around Jungkook head, forcing him down lower, his heavy breath washing over you, his eyes closing as you gripped his hair and tugged, breathlessly moaning with him at the sight of his visceral pleasure, the sound, the pace, the taste of his kiss still lingering on your lips.

For as long as he loved you, your heart would love him back, no matter what your thoughts said.

“Not yet,” you gasped. “I’m close.”

“Fuck me, I’m gonna burst,” he whined, digging his palms in, slamming his hips into you and you saw Jungkook bite the side of his lower lip, suddenly silent, focusing hard, his sweaty black hair sticking to his forehead. He always went quiet when he didn’t want to cum too fast.

You wanted to torture him a little but the edging had brought you too close.

“Ah, Jungkook!”

Your head snapped back into the pillows and his fell back, the wanton sound of your joined moans loud and shameless, echoing throughout your bedroom as you came hard, tensing your entire body and feeling your pussy clamp down onto his jerking cock pumping the condom full of cum. The lack of sufficient air, the whirlwind of release, the closeness and a drop his sweat on your tongue, and you shuddered, clinging onto him as wave after wave crashed into you, each throb pulsing between your legs reaching him as well, burning you both in each sharp pang of erotic euphoria.

You heard him exhale your name, erratic and rough.

Thudding heartbeat revibrating against the base of your neck.

“Get…”

You felt his heat retreat, lowering your legs carefully.

“Get on your knees,” Jungkook panted.

You almost pointed out that this was your bed and not a hotel, these cum-covered sheets are going to have to be slept on because I’m not doing laundry in the dead of night, but either your body moved faster than your brain or you didn’t give a flying fuck. Or both. You turned and springboarded off your folded right arm, still on the searing high of adrenaline and the furious pulse between your legs. You heard him rip open another condom and gasp again at seeing your cheek pressed to the pillows, your chest against the bed, arching your back to raise your ass and spread open your holes for him to see.

“You’re so fucking hot, fuck.”

You flexed your pussy. It made an audible, wet sound, startling you slightly. It didn’t deter Jungkook the least. In fact, he grabbed your ass and dragged you down to him, groaning as he thrust into you again, immediately starting up from where he left off. You shoved your hands into the mattress and flicked your head, tossing back your hair and finally getting some air, breathless at his girth and strength.

Not that any of that stopped you from smacking your ass back into him.

“Fuck!”

It was becoming a favorite word.

Probably your fault.

Well, fuck.

You steeled your core and dropped your shoulders, spreading your knees a little more. By the depth of his groan and the increased ferocity of his thrusts, you knew you had reached that perfect angle, sighing out in satisfaction as you felt the repeated pressure hitting you just right, right there, fuck, yes, Jungkook, closing your eyes to burn in the desire, higher and higher, deep and hard and chasing the same height at the same fierce pace, feeling your heartbeat slam strongly in your chest.

The swell.

The echo.

The unison.

The way the sparks raced up and down your spine. Breaths drifting out, rapid and shallow, noticing his strained grunts and muted moans once again, smiling, then focusing, squeezing him tighter, your shivering walls massaging his cock. Admired how perfectly he fit inside you, almost to the brink of discomfort, seamless, your pussy pulling him in hungrily with each snap of his hips. His fingers dug into your ass and you savored that too, all of it, not taking a single second for granted, letting yourself become overstimulated in the multiple sensations.

Jungkook’s gravelly voice choked out your name.

The frantic edge indicating he was almost done for.

Before you could respond, your head jerked back and your eyes rolled up, the high nearly alarming, depraved moan falling from your lips as the power of the orgasm seized your lungs, knocking the wind out of you. It was almost too much. You would have collapsed if it wasn’t for Jungkook’s firm hold on you, gasping as he came. His hips twitched against your ass, pressed as deep into you as possible.

You moaned as his fingernails suddenly clawed down your lower back, heightening the peak of pleasure.

So good you couldn’t speak.

There were no words.

You could barely comprehend it anyway. There was no describing how different this sex was from all the others. You had known it once, but it even better now, afterglow radiating off of you, each nerve brimming with ecstasy, letting out a gratified exhale as his body leaned against your back, his hands sliding up your stomach and to your chest, squeezing your breasts and lightly toying with your nipples.

His lips pressed to your upper back, feathering you with a meteor shower of kisses.

Your torso shook, trying to come down but suspended. You didn’t resist him, clutching the rumpled sheets, sighing softly at the thrumming beat of heart-to-heart, his cock still inside you. Getting soft and probably against his will. He groaned, sounding annoyed.

“You know there’s always tomorrow, right?” you chuckled, inhaling and catching a whiff of his cologne on your bed.

The imprint of him already.

“I think it’s already tomorrow,” Jungkook grumbled, grunting as he held down the base of the condom and pulled out.

Well, he had always been here, at the back of your mind, never forgotten.

“I’ve got more in me,” he vented sternly, although you suspected that wasn’t really directed at you. You hadn’t faced him yet but if you turned around you were be quite sure that you would be greeted by the pleasant and entertaining sight of Jungkook glaring at his limp, overworked dick. And yet. You didn’t. Instead, you looked up. The window was within your line of sight.

The night sky up above, but the moon was right here, in the magic of this room.

“Jungkook.”

“Huh?”

Right?

“You’ll stay the night, won’t you?” you breathed to the sky, wishing the dream to life to the stars you couldn’t see.

Silence.

You turned your head, past the moon-shaped lamp across the room, past walls and everyday things, past the clothes scattered everywhere, and Jungkook was blinking at you, startled for a moment, big brown eyes wide, lips parted. Piercings. Tattoos.

Years on years.

“Anything for you,” he breathed back, staring straight into your eyes.

Still the same.

“Really. I will always stay by your side.”

He climbed back onto the bed. Over you. Skin to skin. Leaning down. Kiss after kiss, meaning more than raw passion, and you felt the wetness on your face. Drop after drop, fallen stars, and Jungkook brushed him away from his thumbs and his smile, you couldn’t get rid of me even if you wanted to, noona, I’m stuck on you, forever after, and you didn’t want to cry, no more, your arms around his torso, pulling him closer, gripping his shoulders, shuddering at the foreignness of expressing emotion.

“Are we…?”

Your voice was so small but he was so close, so close, his hands in your hair, forehead to forehead.

“Are we falling in love?” you whispered, staring into his eyes and finding the stars.

And now you could see that he, too, finally found the stars he had been looking for all this time.

Jungkook smiled.

“Yes.”

Crisp and intense, this peppermint gum love where every day was the rush of falling in love more and more, forever after making memories so this feeling could never fade away.

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #bts smut #jungkook x you #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you

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dilemmaontwolegs · 1 year ago

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The Horners feeling asleep on the plane. Also, you. Max is deep in his thoughts what would have happened if you were caught last night, or if the CCTV footage was leaked. He doesn't notice that you're awake and only snaps back when he feels your kisses on his body and quiet voice asking if it's too late to join the Mile High Club

The Real Prize - New Beginnings || MV1

The Real Prize || Thighs || Pre-Gala || Jealousy || Panties || Captivity || Rocky || Escaping || Consequences || A Mile High || New Beginnings

The plane was quiet as everyone slept soundly, except Max. He had lifted the shade to the oval window and stared out into the dark sky, seeing something far beyond the endless night at 40,000ft. His mind was preoccupied with Christian’s warning from that morning.

You woke to Max’s thumb softly drawing circles on your hip. Whether knowingly or by habit, he had found a gap in your shirt and needed the reassuring warmth of your skin under his touch. The moon illuminated his face, making his sharp features even harsher and he clenched his jaw as an unwanted thought passed through his head.

He was in need of a distraction.

Your neck hated the angle you had tortured it to but you ignored the ache as you kissed the corner of Max’s pouting lips. The prickles of his shirt beard tickled your lips as you dragged them softly across his cheek and down his neck. You found his steady pulse and gently nipped it as he remained transfixed on the stars outside.

He startled at the pinch of your teeth and groaned your name quietly. “Yes, my love?” you replied innocently. “You look like you need saving.”

“From what?”

“Yourself.” You unbuckled the lap belt and rose from the chair as you curled a finger in his direction. “Come.”

He followed you to the back of the plane where the double bed was separated by a thin wall. “I hope they changed the sheets,” you commented as you climbed on top.

“It was a long time ago,” Max chuckled before the sound sobered up. “Before I met you.”

He turned and locked the door to ensure your privacy but he questioned if it was enough. You watched your boyfriend rest his head on the door and knew he was still deep in whatever thoughts had stopped him from sleeping.

Slipping off the bed, you wrapped your arms around his middle and rested your head on his shoulder. “What’s on your mind, baby?”

“You. Me. Us.”

“That’s not foreboding at all,” you murmured as you pulled away.

“Not like that,” he said as he caught your hand and took a seat on the bed, guiding you onto his lap. “Last night…things got a little bit out of hand. I don’t know what came over me, but seeing you in that dress…it’s not an excuse, I should have been more careful. Christian was right.”

He hung his head on your shoulder and you combed your fingers into his hair. “I’m sorry.”

He laughed as he peeked up. “Why are you sorry?”

“I should have worn something ugly, something so hideous you would have been embarrassed to be seen with me.”

His eyes narrowed as your lips twitched. “Do you think this is funny, schatje?”

“Kind of,” you giggled. “You’re so serious for like 9 months of the year, baby. You missed out on experiencing the wild teenage years while you were off racing, you deserve to get crazy once in a while before you have to settle down.”

“You say that like it would be a chore to settle down with you.” You shrugged at his words, a teasing smile on your lips as he tightened his hold on you so you couldn’t wriggle away from his kiss. Chuckling softly, he left you breathless as he leaned back and said, “Just so you know, nothing could make me embarrassed of you. You could wear a potato sack to our wedding and I would still say I do.”

“You’re getting a bit ahead of yourself there, baby, you haven’t even asked me to marry you.”

Max stood up abruptly and his hands steadied you before going to the bedside drawer and opening it. “Been bringing this on every trip since Austin…” He returned with a small velvet box in his palm and dropped to one knee in front of you.

“I was just teasing you,” you murmured, slightly shocked but very happy with the turn of events.

“I can put it back if you want,” he said with a smirk, pretending to rise from his knees before you grabbed his shoulders and pushed him back down.

“No, no way, keep going,” you urged as he smiled to the floor, opening the box tantalisingly slow. “Oh my god, give me it here.”

Max jumped up and held the box out of your reach, laughing as you climbed onto the bed and then up his chest as you tried to steal it. “It’s like you are eager or something, schatje.”

Clasping the box tight with one hand, he curled the other arm around your waist and fell to the bed with you. He pinned you beneath his body, his lips brushing yours as he whispered, “Just say yes.”

“Yes,” you breathed as you stared into his blue eyes and saw love reflected. “Yes, Max.”

He sat up and opened the box, fear suddenly appearing on his face as he found it empty. “Shit,” he swore as he clambered off the bed and a sound relief echoed around the small room. “Found it!”

You didn’t truly believe him until he returned triumphant, ring pinched tightly in his fingers. “I got it,” he said with a flush to his cheeks as he took your hand and slipped it on your finger. “Mine.”

“Yours,” you echoed as you climbed back onto Max’s lap. You grinned as the diamond disappeared into his hair and tugged the strands while you peppered his neck with kisses. “Is it too late to renew my membership to the mile high club?”

#max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula one imagine #formula one fanfiction #formula 1 fanfic

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sunfyresrider · 1 year ago

Text

♡My Dear, Don’t Ever Disappear | Neteyam S.

❦Summary: You wake up with a pounding headache and no clue where you are. It’s only after your cries for help your best friend appears. Except… it seems like he’s the reason for all of this.

❦Tags: Stalker!Neteyam - this man is actually crazy, muder🫢, porn w plot, dubcon/noncon, smutty af, kidnapping, pet names, biting, bondage, knifeplay, he loves you in a insane way. Word Count: 3k +

❦Author’s Note: NO PROOFREADING WE RAWDOG THIS! The voices got to me and I made this. Ooc Neteyam for mf sure but it’s just- ugh. My brain couldn’t stop thinking abt it<3

You woke up groggy, the first time you noticed was a severe ache in the back of your skull. What the hell happened? You opened your eyes to find you were not at home, nor in a hospital, you were in a cold concrete room. It had to be the old lab, a basement you hadn’t found yet. Well, that is unspeakably unsettling, you thought to yourself as your heart picked up its pace.

You winced as you tried to sit up, Your whole body was a dull throb, your arms stiff from their position. It took mere moments before you felt the cool touch of metal against your wrists, you tried to move away, but the sounds of chains clinking together gave away that they were keeping you on the floor. Panic slowly begun settling in the pits of your stomach, a looming sense of dread washing over you.

You were just going to work, walking out of base camp, and then nothing. Nothing at all. Trying to remember made your head pound, you didn't know what day it was, the fucking time, or if you were even in the same village. “Hello?”

Your voice echoed against the walls, the only response being the drip drop of water leaking through the walls, you were underground. That much you could tell. As your eyes adjusted to the dim light you noticed another presence, a figure standing at the door with their arms crossed.

“Boo.”

Your body jolted upwards, the chains pulling you back. You felt your blood go cold. They were tall, so tall you could hardly see all of them. You felt like the breath had been knocked out of your lungs, your mouth was dry and you could only stutter as he stepped forward. “No, no, no, no,” you mumbled to yourself, as he crouched down in front of you.

“Don’t fucking touch me! Somebody help! Help,” you screamed at the top of your lungs, the man didn't seem perturbed at all by your cries. “My Ewya, you’re loud,” he reached up, pulling the sloppily fashioned skull mask from his face. “Neteyam?!” You were baffled. Why was Neteyam here? This wasn’t some sick joke was it?

“Thank god you’re awake,” he sighed, his hand moving to push your hair out of your face. His fingers brushed against the gash on your forehead, causing you to wince. “I thought I hit your pretty little head too hard and put you in a coma.” His fingers trailed down the side of your face, his thumb swiping against your bottom lip, and you couldn't help but recoil. There was something different about him, he wasn't the same Neteyam that was so sweet to you.

“Neteyam what the fuck are you-” you were cut off by his voice, a crazed smile spreading across his face. “Surprise!” He yelled, throwing his hands up, he seemed ecstatic, and you had never felt more terrified. “I really wanted to do this differently, honestly, but it was so hard to get you alone.”

You could only stare, not wanting to say a word, the silence making your throat tighten. Neteyam looked down, his fingers tapping on his knees. You had never seen him like this before, his normal cheery and kind nature completely gone.“I-if Kyle finds out-”

Neteyam’s change in expression cut you off quickly, his eyes changing into something dark, his brow furrowing as his lip curled into a snarl. You swallowed thickly, not sure how to handle him, or the situation. “And what the fuck will a human named Kyle do to me? For Ewya’s sake I do not understand your obsession with this creature. He is weak, frail, short, pale skinned and so stupid.”

For just a moment you had a mere second to think and you were insulted on Kyle’s behalf. Yes, he wasn’t as tall as Neteyam or buff or particularly attractive but he was human. Neteyam huffed, his hand reaching up to pull your face towards him.

You were pulled back into reality as his fingers touched you, you were so pathetically helpless, chained to the ground, and at his mercy. His thumb rubbed along your cheek, and his eyes narrowed on yours. “It’s doesn’t matter now, yawne. I took care of him.”

Your blood ran cold, a sudden fear that he was speaking the truth, It made you want to vomit, a horrible pit forming in your stomach. But the way he said it, like he was proud of his actions, the look in his eyes as he stared down at you, it all made your heart drop. “You’re insane!”

“Only for you,” his smile reached both ears, a look that made the hair on the back of your neck stand on end. Your heart beat wildly in your chest, and your eyes started to water, your brain running a million miles a minute trying to come up with a solution, but nothing came. Neteyam leaned down, placing a kiss against your forehead.

It was… Oddly comforting, unnervingly soft. The way his lips felt against your skin was a stark contrast to his behavior, it was almost loving. “you’re so pretty when you cry, yawne,” his breath was hot on your skin, his voice soft, and it made your skin crawl.

“Fuck you, Neteyam.” You tried to turn away, but his grip tightened on your jaw, keeping you firmly in place, the chains digging into your wrists. You didn't want to look at him, and you certainly didn't want him looking at you. “You’ve read my mind, pretty.” You tried to squirm, and pull away, the chains biting into your skin and cutting into the delicate flesh. Your hands were numb from being locked in place, the muscles tensing and relaxing with the blood circulation.

“I really wish we could have done this in a nicer way… but you are so hardheaded. I was so nice, I did everything in the world to impress you... and not once did you notice me.” Neteyam unsheathed a blade you didn’t realize he was carrying, the metal glistening in the dim light. You felt tears well up in the corners of your eyes, the sight of it alone making your stomach flip, a knot forming deep within you.

The chains rattled as you squirmed, his grip tight on your chin. The metal slid across the delicate flesh of your jaw, it was cold to the touch and sent endless shivers down your spine. Neteyam traced his way down your neck, slowly running down your chest, stopping just before he reached your top. “I’ve dreamt of this for so long… of you, without these ugly human clothes, beneath me, whimpering and crying, of me, inside you... of you saying my name.”

A new feeling began creeping into your thoughts, it wasn't fear or panic, but something else entirely. His words, his voice, everything was too much, and it was beginning to make your head spin. Neteyam moved it slowly, slicing the fabric from the front of your chest, the knife easily cutting through the fabric of your blouse and bra. You didn't notice the cold air hitting the exposed skin, and all you could think of was his dagger as it trailed down your abdomen.

He let out a guttural growl as he stared down at you, his eyes transforming into something more animalistic. “You’re so perfect. I should have killed Kyle sooner…” Your core began to warm, a heat growing deep within your belly as his eyes roamed over your body, a new wave of shame and humiliation washing over you. This was turning you on, which was completely repulsive considering the situation.

Neteyam slid the knife along the inner part of your thigh, the sharp edge scraping against the supple skin, making you gasp. He took his time cutting the fabric, his movements precise, and careful, his gaze focused on the task at hand. Neteyam let out a sort of chuckle, pausing his movements as he gazed up at you, a curious look in his eye. “You like this don’t you?”

The next words came out as a stuttered, incoherent mess of denial. “N-no- you’re c-crazy! I hate you.” His blade sliced the thin string of fabric between your legs, cutting the material with ease. “Don’t lie to me, pet. I can smell you.” You bit your lip, not daring to make eye contact. The blade pressed against the inside of your thighs, dangerously close to your heat, and you felt your legs twitch.

You didn't understand this, the way the knife made your pulse race, the way his fingers danced across your skin made you burn. His hand moved slowly, the blade pressed against your skin, the metal cool against your warmth. You felt the knife drag, and you bit down harder on your lip, trying not to show any sort of reaction, not wanting to give him the satisfaction.

Neteyam moved the knife upward, dragging the metal against your gaped lips, the smoothness of the blade making your core tighten. Your mind was swimming, unable to concentrate, the blade was pressing harder, the sharp point breaking the delicate skin. A drop of blood seeped through, and Neteyam's eyes seemed to glow, his mouth hung open slightly.

Neteyam dropped the blade, the clatter echoing through the small room, his lips reaching out to touch the wound, a small red spot where the knife had been pressed. If there was any blood, it was washed away as his tongue lashed out, cleaning the area with long, slow movements.

Your mouth opened slightly, and a small whine escaped. Neteyam chuckled into your mouth, his hand snaking up your body to grasp at your throat. You couldn't help but moan softly, as his grip tightened around your windpipe, constricting your airways.

“You’re an ass,” you hissed, his hand loosening. You had a feeling the knife had been a trick, the way he had played it up and teased, the way he had made you feel. It wasn't a true threat, and he knew it. “Oh, you don’t want to play nice anymore? He pulled the chains that binged your wrists to the wall, yanking you out of position with a yelp. Neteyam pulled you so your face was mere inches from his, “ I see you, pet. I can be meaner, hm?"

You realized in this moment how his strength truly outmatched yours, his arms easily forcing you onto the ground. You tried to pull away, the cold floor biting at the bare skin of your back. Neteyam leaned down, forcing his mouth onto yours,his tongue slipping past your lips and into your mouth. You couldn't help but let out a muffled groan, the taste of blood lingering on his tongue.

His hands groped at the bare skin of your hips, his touch sending waves of heat throughout your body. He kissed you with an urgency, like he was starving for it, his teeth tugging on your lip. The sensation made a low groan slip past your lips, and his lips curled into a wicked smile. Neteyam’s tongue slipped out of your mouth, moving down your neck, his sharp teeth nibbling at your skin.

You felt your body begin to react, your blood pulsing, your chest heaving with each labored breath. It was disgusting, and humiliating. You were completely under his control, and you could do nothing about it. You could only watch as his hands wandered, as he moved his tongue down the front of your chest, the feeling of his dangling braids tickling your flesh. And for some reason, not even ewya could explain, you were enjoying it.

His lips wrapped around one of your breasts, his hot tongue gliding over the flesh. You threw your head back, moaning softly, his tongue flicking over the sensitive tip, his teeth lightly nibbling at the sensitive skin. Neteyam let out a deep groan, his mouth closing over it. You were so absorbed in what his tongue was doing to you, you failed to notice his hand slipping between your thighs.

You let out a strangled moan, as his long fingers brushed against your dripping folds. Your eyes snapped open, the sensation was so foreign. He slid a finger inside, pumping it slowly, his thumb circling around the sensitive bud. It felt incredible, and you hated that, the pleasure washing over you.

You could hear Neteyam let out a chuckle, the sound vibrating through his lips. "Look how wet you are, pet." He began forcing in another finger, stretching you out and filling you with a burning heat. You felt your eyes roll back, letting out a soft mewl, the sound of him thrusting into you echoed through the room.

"M-more, please," you begged, his fingers moving faster, the feeling overwhelming, making you squirm. "Please, more," you panted, your pussy beginning to clench around his fingers. “Beg louder.” Neteyam's hand gripped tighter around your neck, his fingers forcing themselves deeper, stretching you.

You could feel a coil building up inside, the sensation was too much, and you were so close. “Splease, Sso good,” you slurred. Neteyam proded at the spongy spot inside you, making the coil tighten further, your walls starting to quiver around him. “P-please! Teyam please!”

Neteyam pulled his fingers out suddenly, your orgasm being cut off immediately. You let out a loud whine, a pitiful plea to keep going, his fingers leaving a trail of your own slick as they moved up. Then, he slapped you clean across the face.The sound echoed through the room, and you felt your whole body tense up. The force of the impact was surprising, and it was quickly followed by a painful stinging.

"You thought I was going to let you cum so easily? After the attitude you’ve had all night? No way, brat, I’m going to ruin you first." Neteyam was so calm, his voice so collected, it was almost unnerving. You were stunned, obscenely horny, and mildly terrified of the monster in front of you.

He sat back, admiring his handiwork. You were spread out, bound, and completely nude. Your eyes met his, and a dark laugh bubbled up in his throat. "you should see yourself," he cooed. “You look so pretty all disheveled for me.”

Neteyam leaned forward, his long, deft fingers wrapping around your throat, forcing you up, the chains chafing the delicate skin. His mouth connected with yours, the kiss more heated than the others, his teeth tugging at your bottom lip. You could feel his excitement through his loincloth, the heat radiating off of him, his length straining against the fabric.

The sudden shift in emotions made you dizzy, his touch becoming rough, and violent. Then twisting into slow and sensual, the way his tongue gilded against yours, the way his lips moved expertly against yours, the way his hands moved along your body. "I'm going to mark the fuck out of you so no man ever comes near you again.”

Neteyam grasped at your hips, proving his superior strength by flipping you over with ease. One of his large hands wrapped into your hair, the other pulling your ass up so you could feel him. He was undeniably huge, so thick, and in no way was he going to fit inside you. The sensation alone made you whimper, and it only got worse as he rubbed himself against you.

The sound of him unfastening his cloth, the jingling of his jewelry was enough to make your core tighten. His cock slipped between your folds, the head rubbing against your clit. Neteyam let out a low growl, the feeling of him making you shudder, his hands gripping the back of your neck.

Neteyam forced himself inside of you, the sudden intrusion making you scream out, and tears well up in the corners of your eyes. He was impossibly big, filling you entirely, stretching you. You let out a series of broken moans, as he slid out only to thrust back inside. Neteyam's free hand slid down your spine, his fingers gently caressing your back, before he slapped your ass.

“That’s it, baby. Keep screaming my name just like that.” Neteyam's voice was strained, the words coming out like a hiss. His grip tightened on the base of your neck, holding you firmly in place, while his hips pounded against you. The sounds of his body hitting yours echoed through the room, his cock stretching you with each thrust.

He wasn't going easy, "F-fuck me!” you cried out, as his cock grazed your g-spot. Neteyam dropped his head into the crook of your neck, his teeth leaving an imprint, his hands holding you down, his body flush against you.

The knot began to build once more, and Neteyam picked up his pace, fucking into you with reckless abandon. You moaned and whimpered, unable to stop the obscene noises that fell from your lips. His heavy panting sent chills down your spine.

Neteyam let out a deep, animalistic growl, his nails digging into the soft flesh of your hips, his teeth biting into your shoulder. "You feel so good around me, baby.” His cock throbbed inside you, his tip pounded at your cervix. You felt your pussy clamp around him, the feeling making Neteyam's hips jerk, and you let out a loud, pleasured wail.

You were so close, and the knot in your belly was tightening. “Please can I cum?!” You yelled out. Neteyam pulled himself from the warmth of your body, and you could hear his breathing turn ragged. “No no no, I have to see you.”

You didn't have to wait long, Neteyam flipped you onto your back, and his lips met yours. You felt his cock press against your folds, the head of him pushing past the entrance. His lips attached themselves to the side of your neck, his hands sliding up your chest to wrap around your throat.

Neteyam's hips met yours, his cock pounding inside you, “keep begging, yawne.” His long fingers moved to circle your clit, his thumb rolling the sensitive nub, making your eyes roll back. “Please, Neteyam,” you cried, “sgood, please can I cum!”

"Are you going to be a good little girl from now on?" Neteyam hissed, his fingers moving faster. You nodded, as you let out a low cry, "y-yes! P please, I’ll be good! You were on the verge of tears, your mind clouded. Neteyam let out a guttural groan, his pace picking up but his movements getting progressively sloppy.

Your legs began to shake, the knot was beginning to unravel. Neteyam's cock throbbed inside you, and you knew he was getting close too. "i-im gonna-" His fingers curled around your throat, stopping your sentence. “Cum on this dick like a good pet.”

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, your body started to convulse, your muscles tensing, and then unraveling. Your orgasm ripped through you, causing you to thrash, and scream. You felt your pussy clench tightly around his length, the euphoria making your mind hazy. Neteyam's body trembled, his cock twitching as he spilled inside you. His seed filled you entirely, warming your belly, and dripping out onto your thighs as he pulled out slowly.

You were spent, too weak to move and too dazed to think straight. Time passed fast, the loss of his body heat lost in your head. You felt him shift beside you, his head dangling over yours as he peppered kisses onto your face. “You’re so pretty all fucked out…” he cooed, his hand gently rubbing your head.

You murmured something in reply, not fully hearing what he was saying. “I’m so happy you’re here with me, yawne.”Neteyam spoke, his voice soft. You heard his voice echo through the room, the words becoming jumbled as sleep overtook you. He continued petting your hair, watching you sleep peacefully. This was nice, harder than he expected, but it was nice.

“And you’re going to be here with me forever…”

My beloveds - @xylianasblog @strongheartneteyam @criticallybella

#neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #neteyam sully #neteyam x avatar!reader #neteyam x f!reader #neteyam x reader #neteyam x you #neteyam x y/n #neteyam smut #neteyam fic #neteyam fanfiction #atwow smut #atwow fic #atwow x reader

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jiminjamms · 1 year ago

Text

sex therapy :: 23. homewrecker

chapter tags/warnings: naoya has sex with toji’s older ex-wife. misogynistic! naoya. age gap. exhibitionism. creampies. masturbation. infidelity/adultery. family drama. strong language. plain manipulation. corruption.

word count: 3.8k

notes: a longer chapter, but i had became so enraptured in the writing process hence the quick turnaround! given the thanksgiving weekend in the united states, i want to thank all my readers for being so invested my story! likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated. xoxo

fic masterlist | 01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07. 08. 09. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31. 32. 33.

Naoya Zenin had no qualms in calling himself the Master of the Universe.

He had everything he wanted in this world.

Money? Check. Power? Check. Fame? Also check.

Mind you, Naoya had to work hard to get into this position too. He didn’t just sit around on the couch all day waiting for opportunities to come flying his way. He had to be proactive. He had some tough decisions to make. Like how he had to choose between spending the weekend on a golf course or a ski resort. Or if he should pull up to the next board meeting with a Patek Phillipe or a Rolex. Nothing in his sad and poor life came easy when he only grew up as a spare heir, always living in the shadow of his once almighty cousin.

Which was why nothing could fuel his ego more than watching Toji's ex-wife ride his dick like this was some fucking rodeo.

"Naoya, baby," Mari whined, flushed as she ground down hard on his cock, her pussy squeezing him to the point his sight became spotted with stars. "I'm so close."

“Yeah?" Naoya managed to croak. His voice was hoarse; he longer recognized himself. He could only feel how his cock was splitting his mistress open, and with one long groan, he sank his face into her fat tits that were like clouds against his skin, his heavy balls slapping against her ass cheeks with each thrust up. "Gonna make a mess over my cock?”

She nodded confidently. “Mhm…We’re going to leave the sheets covered with cum.”

“Fuck, yeah.”

Sighing, the woman leaned forward with her palm holding the headboard’s edge for dear life while the other groped her own breast to keep her bosom from moving wildly.

“Don’t stop,” she mewled.

But shit, Naoya knew he was going crazy at this fantastically sexy sight. With this goddess before him, his mind and body wanted to go all in. No holds barred. He wanted nothing but to stuff this celestial being full of his cum, making sure her cunt would be aching when she woke up.

The Zenin CEO moaned at his lewd ideas, the mattress beneath them rocking back and forth from their combined forceful movements. Damn, he knew he should've booked a hotel room at the Ritz Carlton rather than at some InterContinental, where he knew (from experience) that the beds were sturdier and wouldn't be such an annoying mid-sex turnoff.

"I'm cumming!" Mari shouted in the midst of Naoya's haze, and his mind placed a screeching halt in his thoughts to focus solely on how her walls now squeezed around his cock, contracting around him in waves.

“Shit.”

She might be twenty years older, but goddamn, did she still have that grip.

Naoya’s climax didn’t take long to follow. The way his mistress's hot body crumpled against him as she wailed out his name repeatedly was simply too much, his own breaths dissolving into a strangled moan as his orgasm consumed him. “Holy fuck.”

In one white flash, Naoya's vision went blank. Hot semen shot from his tip in intense bursts as Naoya plunged himself completely into one of the tightest cunts he'd ever fucked. (And yes, he had enough girlfriends and one-night stands to make this conclusion. Don’t be silly to assume he didn't have experience.)

He panted hard, trying to catch his breath as Mari rolled over into the spot next to him, leaving their sweaty forms tangled in bed. As his heart slowed down from its marathon, he puffed his cheeks out and exhaled.

Wow.

He hadn’t gotten his dick twisted like that in a while, and to award the star of tonight’s show, he faced his lover and pressed a kiss against her forehead.

“Drained my balls completely empty,” he hummed in sheer amazement, pulling the sheets to cover their naked bodies. If they hadn’t gone for four whole rounds already, he would have hauled her into another episode of intense thrusting and moaning, perhaps slamming into her by those windows for the entire Tokyo area to see.

Giggling, the older woman slipped off the bed. She trailed toward the vanity mirror to re-apply her lipstick for what must be the millionth occasion. Not that Naoya was complaining because he had a thing for women with that cherry red on, and every time Mari went smacking her painted lips together, Naoya would find a way to get all that off.

All Naoya could picture in his head was how much he wanted to watch her suck him off again and see her print lipstick stains on his dick, from the base to the tip.

Well, fuck.

He’s getting hard again.

To distract himself, he tossed over to the side, propping an elbow on a pillow and resting his chin on his palm. This gave him the perfect angle to watch his hot girlfriend while hiding the boner between his legs. A genius move.

Then, he thought aloud, “I don’t know what I would have done without those nudes that you’ve been sending me over these past several weeks.”

She purred, flattered. “Liked them?”

Naoya had to correct her.

“Loved them.” Recalling the slew of dirty photos that he had received over text made his eyes roll to the back of his head. “I would bring my phone to the bathroom just so I could beat off to your pictures in the shower. Even came on my screen once because I couldn’t hold myself back a moment longer.”

Mari grinned from ear to ear from the compliment, staring into the mirror to wipe away a misplaced smear. “So, you really missed me.”

Naoya nodded in acknowledgment, reaching for his unfinished glass of Rémy Martin that had been left on the bedside table. “Most certainly, I did.”

“Of course.” Through her reflection in the mirror, he saw her scarlet lips pucker into a pout. “We haven’t been together in weeks since you are always busy and all.”

Despite her leveled tone, the bitter twinge caught Naoya off guard.

Did Mari think he did not care for her anymore after everything that he had done just this night alone? It was not like he had intentionally avoided her in recent weeks. Naoya had made himself extremely clear in the past that he had a company to run, a marriage to tend to, and a father to please.

Especially that last bit.

Naobito Zenin had been on Naoya’s ass on what seemed like everything lately: ‘financial forecasts’ this and ‘earnings call’ that. The Chairman had been chasing him on whether he had been planning for his upcoming strategy discussion with the board, consulting with other C-suite members about new firm initiatives, and speaking with Daisuke (your father) about recent company operations. Immensely annoying. His very own father should at least have some sympathy, knowing that Naoya—unlike his older cousin—did not grow up with a business mindset drilled into his head.

With the family patriarch also now aware of his son’s extramarital affair, Naoya must especially tiptoe around every interaction that involved his mistress.

After all, Naobito might have been turning a blind eye ever since discovering those scandalous paparazzi photos online, but he was no fool to ignore his son’s funny business, especially if this would jeopardize the Zenin Corporation’s success and the proud family’s reputation. In their most recent meeting, the older Zenin had reiterated that if there was any evidence that his son’s affair may imperil the company’s bottom line, there would be ‘severe consequences’—and in these matters with his own father, Naoya understood that no punishment was off the table.

“So,” Mari pressed, noticing the blond’s silence, “when are we going to see each other again?”

Meanwhile, the woman before him was absolutely oblivious to everything that had been going on ever since Naoya rushed back to Japan from Mexico.

He would take the blame, too.

Naoya intentionally did not mention how his father discovered their scandal’s photos, to lessen Mari's worry. Turned out the decision bit him in the ass, given how the woman narrowed her gaze in suspicion.

With the glass of cognac now trapped between his teeth, he took a slow sip that burned down his throat like spiced liquid fire. The warm residue, a testimony to the drink’s potency, pulsed through his veins like a slow-burning hearth as he sat up slowly.

“As soon as I can.”

She surprised him with her fast response. “Why not this weekend? We were supposed to go to your lakehouse in Switzerland soon, remember?” she pointed out, and Naoya had to conclude that she could not possibly be serious given that the European country called for a ten-plus hour flight from Tokyo, even with his Gulfstream.

“That, I cannot do,” he replied, his tone firm.

If he went missing again, his father would be livid.

“Why not?” an unaware Mari asked while walking over to the bed again and seated her naked form along the edge. “Trying to make time for your wife again?”

Interesting that she assumed you had a role in this. Frankly, Naoya had not thought about you the entire night, seeing you last as a sobbing mess in the penthouse.

As your husband, he should feel a teensy bit bad about cursing you off, but he had never been the one to chew on an emotion that did not serve him, so he quickly let that guilt go. This whole thing was your fault, anyway. Purposely poking around in his business, and then letting him have his way with you despite how obviously little he could care. As far as he can tell, he left you huddled up in an adorable little ball on the floor, sulking and crying over how badly you fucked up.

Pathetic.

That should teach you a lesson.

Perhaps Naoya would like to see a little backbone in you, but if that meant you may grow even more testy when around him, then he would rather not.

With his tongue running over his lower lip, he placed his glass atop the oak table again. “About my schedule,” he began, “no, my wife doesn’t have to do with anything.”

“Good!” Mari huffed with finality, his answer giving her the green light to crawl across the mattress and push the covers off Naoya. She straddled him perfectly, allowing his latest load to trickle out slowly from her cunt and onto his thighs. “That’s what I thought, that you two were over had your marriage certificate not existed. Besides, what was that you had texted me?” she continued as if she wasn’t pressing her slicked pussy against his semi-hard cock. “That your wife had been cheating on you for who knows how long.”

He nodded. “Pretty much.”

“Disgusting,” the older woman spat, rolling her eyes at your audacity. “So, she’s a spoiled brat and a two-timer. For someone from her noble background, your wife is one dumb and cheap whore.”

Quite an ironic statement given who was talking, but Naoya kept his mouth shut at the thought. Rather, his hands kneaded his mistress’s fat butt, which at least helped him keep his mind away from things he didn’t want to think about.

“Yeah, she sure is a slut,” he agreed.

Naoya sent a convincing smile in between his words, and he could practically see Mari’s face light up from his validation.

“See! Exactly!” she exclaimed. “That bitch never lived a hard day in her life and is already blessed with everything the world can possibly give her—wealth, respect, a good last name. Yet, she dares to act like she has nothing?!” Enraged, she threw her hands into the air from frustration. “Might as well just leave someone as entitled as her! Filing a divorce is simpler than you think, speaking from my own experience. Once the whole world understands that she’s a nobody unmatched by you, everyone would support your decision, right?” Wrong. His father surely would not. But to satiate his own curiosity, he let her continue. “Not to mention, baby, people would respect you more as a businessman without your current wife.” Wrong again.

His hands might be tracing another woman’s curves, but Naoya understood that he needed you if he hoped to ascertain his ascendancy in the company. That was why his father, with his life’s many decades, easily recognized this necessary union and had pressed for this marital arrangement.

To the Zenin family, you were the perfect addition.

Descending from a line of honorable financiers, you not only had the right connections to the upper echelon since birth but also were the daughter of the Zenin Corporation’s Chief Operating Officer. Yet, most importantly, you were incredibly elegant, classy, and admired, exactly the person people would want to be associated with if they wanted to clear their public images and tarnished pasts…and exactly the impeccable character that Naoya needed by his side.

His marriage to you served him as not a bond forged upon mutual love, but rather a calculated decision to leverage your virtuosity as a cloak—or moreso, a distraction. With the public adoring you, Naoya could confidently hide his lack of competence and credentials behind your flawless paragon. Goddamnit. He fucking hated how he relied on you more than you depended on him (albeit you might not realize this), but until his father kicked the bucket, what could Naoya realistically do?

Therefore, dissolving this shrewd alliance between him and you would be detrimental not only to two distinguished bloodlines but also to Naoya in particular.

He already skirted around being shown out the door once.

Given Naobito's recent stringency, there was no room for Naoya to make another mistake again.

But rather than dealing with an upset Mari if he chose to reveal these facts, Naoya instead patted her head with encouragement and brushed her brown locks. “That’s my smart girl,” he praised, tilting his head forward to express his agreement.

Flustered at the commendation, she went on without much thought. “I’m so glad you agree with me, baby. That’s just…That is a thought that has been on my mind for a while, but,” and she paused briefly to formulate her next words carefully, “I mean, I only want the best for you. Naturally. So, maybe there are better people to spend your money on and life with.”

Now, Naoya would admit that he can be shortsighted at points, but he was not that stupid to realize that she was alluding to herself.

“I appreciate you for thinking about me,” he still said, because he must stay on her good side if he hoped for a comprehensive answer to his following question, “By the way, do you know any new rumors going around about Toji?”

The said man’s ex-wife perked up visibly at the question. Even though she was busy plotting your downfall a moment ago, the mention of Toji inveigled her such that she would push all her other thoughts aside.

Although Mari had presented divorce papers to her then-husband earlier this year, Naoya continued to allow—in fact, encouraged—Mari to still visit Toji on the occasion. He didn't give two hoots that his mistress was getting railed by his cousin if that meant that she came back with fresh dirt about him, allowing Naoya to indulge in his custom-tailored version of Keeping Up with the Kardashians.

“I had an appointment with him yesterday." Using her fingers, Mari combed through her dark strands. “Crazy that you used to work with him and his stupid little entourage, right?"

“That is crazy.” Had he not been reminded, Naoya would have nearly forgotten that he used to work as a sex therapist too up until earlier this year. In that office was where he befriended the then-Mari Fushiguro, although he had known her years prior as an in-law. Naoya only terminated his position after his father finally decided to hand his only son (rather than his nephew) the CEO and heir apparent titles. “To think that now I oversee a large conglomerate,” he stated proudly, “so unlike everyone else, I have matured and am off to better things.”

"Funny for you to say that,” the woman resumed, now twirling her hair out of habit. “Do you remember your office in the middle of their hallway? Only recently did I realize someone scratched out your name from the door’s plaque. Don’t even know who did that.”

What pettiness.

What was this?

Middle school?

Were the other therapists that butt hurt when Naoya turned against them to propel himself toward his well-deserved future as the Zenin Corporation’s heir? “Choso probably did that. He is the type to hold grudges and act upon them.”

Even if he has to kill, Naoya mentally added from what he recalled about his former co-worker but preferred to keep that morbid possibility to himself.

“That makes sense. I never liked Choso anyway. He will talk shit about you to your face,” Mari declared, which launched her into a soliloquy about her grievances regarding the other therapists that Naoya used to work with. “Meanwhile, Geto smiles too much. Creeps me out.” Agreed. “Sukuna is overly cocky.” True. “Then, Toji,” and this is the part that Naoya really wanted to hear about, “has been distancing himself from me these days.”

Why, this was not the news that Naoya hoped for.

Rather than soaking in joy from hearing about Toji’s demise, Naoya instead felt his stomach drop from a sinking dread.

While he found some sick gratification in pleasing his cousin's past partner both emotionally and sexually, the more important reason he needed this MILF in his life was to monitor his estranged cousin’s moves from afar.

She was merely the perfect spy.

What better source of intel was there in this world besides Toji’s former spouse, who simply walked up to Naoya and offered her espionage services the day she learned that her then-husband was no longer set to inherit the Zenin thone? All that she asked in return was a little money and a little physical attention, which was easy for Naoya to throw at her.

After rightfully (and he must place emphasis on that last word) taking back what he was entitled to, Naoya was positive that Toji had a target placed on his back. Therefore, Naoya needed Mari's updates on Toji and Co. to protect himself, to protect his position, and to protect the status quo that he had worked so hard for.

If Toji stopped talking to Mari completely, how else would Naoya keep his threats under watch?

“Do you have ideas on why Toji is giving you the cold shoulder?”

Pressing her bare chest to Naoya’s toned ones, Mari stopped briefly in contemplation but ultimately shrugged. “Do you think he’s getting suspicious? That he realized I left him for his younger cousin Naoya?”

“No,” the said man denied vehemently. “That cannot possibly be.”

Naoya had been extremely careful in keeping his extramarital relationship as discreet as possible. For example, the moment he learned about those photos of him and his mistress en route to Mexico, he immediately called every publisher to have them take the pictures down, no matter the monetary cost.

He made sure to leave no crumbs along his trail and refused to believe in the contrary. “Any other reasons you can think of?”

With Naoya not reciprocating her libido, Mari started to appear visibly annoyed. “Maybe he’s moved on," she suggested, answers curt. "Maybe he'd found another person.”

If Naoya thought the first hypothesis was alarming enough, this second explanation definitely took the cake.

At least, if Toji had truly gotten suspicious about Mari’s affiliation with the current Zenin successor, Naoya somewhat had some control over that situation. Divert the paparazzi. Create cover-up stories. Bribe more publishers. Find each and every way possible to take the spotlight off him and his secret affair.

On the other hand, there was not much Naoya could do if Toji no longer found interest in his ex-wife.

Huh.

Well, that wasn't quite good.

How could Naoya play his next move?

Or had Toji been playing him all along?

Strategize.

Naoya needed to strategize. C'mon, he was the fucking CEO of the fucking Zenin Corporation. He had done strategizing plenty of times before, so why was his mind suddenly going blank on what to do next?

“Who has Toji taken interest in?” Naoya found himself asking, desperate for information.

“Beats me.” Mari guided his hands to trace her curves, cupping her breasts with Naoya's palms to urge him to massage the rounded mounds. “Although, think about this: she cannot merely be anybody,” and she released her grip around his wrists to start counting with her fingers, “One, she has to be well-off. Therapy ain't cheap. Two, she is stuck in a bad relationship. And three, she is also stuck with bad sex.”

What a good approach to the situation, narrowing down the potential suspects and investigating from there!

Who knew some women had the smarts in them to devise such detailed commentary? That was what Naoya loved about mature and more experienced psyches in ladies like her.

Now, her brilliant analysis reminded him of someone, but he couldn’t exactly place his finger on who.

Whatever, because with this turnaround in the mystery, Naoya decided he would figure this out soon enough.

Triumph was right within his reach.

It was only a matter of time until his aging father Naobito, the one person who had the final say in all company and familial matters, solidified his Last Will and Testament to ensure his wonderful only son Naoya would be the successor to the multibillion family-run conglomerate, condemning Toji Fushiguro to be dwarfed by his little cousin forever.

But first, he must treat his paramour to a much-deserved reward that would render her limping in the morning.

With all the moving parts falling into place, Naoya burst into a wicked cackle by her left tit, leaving Mari staring back at him with a confused frown.

"What's so funny?" she demanded to know.

“Don’t worry about it,” Naoya assured between snickers, leading his mistress forward by gently pulling her waist toward him. He attached his mouth to the nipple, flicking the bud with his tongue as he added, “What you should worry about, though, is how you will walk when you wake up after how sore I’m going to make you.”

The cheesy comment made Mari laugh as she batted her long lashes. She saw where this was going, and her large chocolate-colored eyes sparkled with an excited twinkle as she met his hazel ones, her thin lips stretching into a Cheshire Cat grin from delight.

"Baby," she cooed, "the dirty things you say to me make me forget that you have a wife at home sometimes."

Something about her remark made Naoya chuckle even more heartily as his mind meandered back to his nearly forgotten spouse: his wife.

His…wife.

Wait.

𝗔𝗖𝗧 𝗧𝗪𝗢 𝗘𝗡𝗗

last chapter || next chapter

end notes: The end to Act Two: House of Cards! The very reason behind this act’s name is to reference the precarious web of disguise and deception in this story, only for this structure to topple like a domino chain. Thank you to all my lovely readers for reading, and although I recognize my writing is imperfect, I would love to hear your thoughts before the third and final arc!

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