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peachiejeongin · 2 months ago

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Mind-Numbing Melody | Bang Chan

Synopsis: Chan has been unmotivated lately when it comes to producing; however, he comes across a melodic idea that he just cannot resist. He just needs your help to fulfill it.

Pairing: Bang Chan x fem!reader

Genre: Smut, Slight Fluff

Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content (18+ Recommended), dom!Bang Chan, sub!reader, pet names (pretty girl, darling, good girl, etc.), biting, marking, fingering, slight edging, teasing, begging, unprotective penetrative sex (please use protection), Chan uses reader's moans in a song

Notice: Hello, my darlings! I know it has been weeks since the release of SKZHOP, but Railway has been driving me absolutely bonkers, so enjoy this fiction I wrote when I discovered you could hear Chan moaning in the background of the song :,D

Divider By: @anitalenia

Smut under the cut!

The studio was steeped in a familiar glow, its dim lighting wrapping around stacks of forgotten notes, tangled cords, and empty coffee cups that lined the console like weary sentinels. Chan hunched over the keyboard, fingers tapping an irregular, impatient rhythm. It had been days, weeks even, of this same cycle—blank stares at a blank screen, fleeting sparks of inspiration that fizzled out as quickly as they arrived.

The room smelled faintly of espresso and something sharper, a sort of musk as if Chan's frustration was materializing into a smell. The scent was Chan's constant companion these days, a reminder that no matter how hard he pushed, the music would remain just out of reach.

You watched him from the warm leather couch in the corner, your legs curled beneath you as your phone rested forgotten on your lap. He was quiet, but not in the comforting way he usually was. This silence was heavy, nearly oppressive.

"You're going to burn a hole into that screen," you finally said, your voice teasing but soft, careful not to break him entirely out of whatever fragile trance he was in.

Chan glanced over his shoulder at you, a faint, tired smile curving his lips upwards in a manner that did not quite reach his eyes.

"Maybe I can burn some inspiration into it," he murmured, turning back to the keyboard. He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck in a way that let you know how sore it was from hours of tensing.

He absentmindedly clicked through the tabs open on his browser, hoping something would reignite his motivation. A playlist was open on his monitor, softly blaring tracks from artists he admired; most of them were songs that sparked awe and envy in an equal measure. But it was the headline of an article on trends in modern music that caught his eyes, words he had previously skimmed earlier in the day: "Personal Touch: The Rise of Intimacy in Music Production."

He had not thought much of it at the time, dismissing it as another gimmick. Now, in the late-night haze of desperation and coffee-stained reality, the concept felt like a thread to cling to. The idea of creating something raw, something undeniably intimate, grew in his mind. When he looked at you, lounging on that couch as if you were a calm in the storm, an idea began to crystalize.

You caught his gaze, brows furrowing slightly in concern as you noticed the shift in his expression—an intense focus, almost predatory, like he had just discovered something precious.

"What?" you asked, nerves and curiosity blending in your tone.

Chan stood slowly, the chair rolling back with a low creak. When he crossed the room, every step deliberate, your heart began to beat just a bit faster. He dropped to one knee in front of you, the studio's ambient light casting shadows against the defined angles of his jawline. His fingers found your thighs, resting there lightly at first, then gripping just enough to make your pulse quicken.

"I need your help," he said, his voice a low rumble that seemed to vibrate through you.

"With what, my love?" You tilted your head, trying to read the intent behind his lustful, dark eyes.

"There's this idea I have," he began, thumb absently stroking the fabric of your sweatpants. "I read this article—something about artists using intimate sounds from their partners in songs. Breaths, moans, everything. I can't stop thinking about how you would sound in one of my songs." His gaze dropped to where his fingers rested against your thighs, almost reverent in a way.

"Your voice, the way you sound when it's just us...I think it could be the spark I'm missing."

Your breath caught in your throat. The idea was audacious, bordering on the verge of scandalous, yet it held an allure you could not deny. You imagined it— your moans hidden between beats and chords only you could notice.

"You're serious?" you questioned, voice barely reaching above a whisper. Chan nodded, his eyes meeting yours with a certain vulnerability that made your heart clench.

"I've been so stuck, but the thought of creating something with you that's so raw and real...it just feels right."

You swallowed, the weight of his request pressing down on you in the best possible way. The trust, the intimacy—it was more than you had ever imagined sharing with Chan, moreso the audience that would be tuning into the song.

"Okay," you agreed softly, the word containing every ounce of trust and anticipation you felt.

Chan's lips curved into a slow, sincere smile, and he leaned foreward to press a kiss against your forehead. It was warm, lingering, a promise as much as it was a kiss.

"You have no idea how much this means to me," he mumbled as he pulled away.

Before you could reply, he captured your lips with his, a kiss that was at first gentle, exploratory; it then deepened into something that made the studio air feel heavy, electric. His hands found your waist, pulling you closer as you melted into him, a symphony in the making.

This kiss grew hungrier, if that was possible, your hands tangling roughly into Chan's hair as he remained steady on your thighs. His teeth grazed your bottom lip, and the soft gasp it elicited made him groan against your mouth.

"Just like that, pretty girl," he whispered, his voice hoarse as his lips brushed against yours.

Chan pulled away from you briefly, striding to his computer and clicking open an audio-recording tab; the faint glow of the monitor casted a faint shadow on the walls. You repositioned yourself as he opened the taper, falling back onto the cushions; he made his way back over to you, climbing over top of you on the couch, his hands tracing an agonizingly slow path up your sides.

Every movement and every touch was unhurried, deliberate as though he was tuning you, finding the exact pitch that made you hum beneath his touch. His fingers danced over your skin, like he was learning the contours of an instrument. The press of his lips ignited sparks at every point of contact.

"Channie," you whispered as you intertwined one of his warm hands with yours; he stroked your cheek gently, smiling ever so lovingly at you.

"Relax for me," he purred before nipping his teeth at your neck ever so slightly. The motion caused you to shiver, your breath hitching in your throat as his lips travel from your neck slowly to your chest. There, he sucked small markings into your skin until purple and red adorned your chest. Welts became present due to his teeth grazing the sensitive skin before Chan moved to fiddle with the hem of your top.

"Are you alright with taking this further?" Chan questioned, assuring that he had your full consent before going farther.

"Yes," you breathed out, the words nearly getting stuck in your throat; your gaze flickers to the computer screen, watching as the speakers picked up each noise, the audio receptor's lines expanding with each recipient.

With your approval, Chan stripped you of your top, agonizingly slow albeit, his fingers moving their way to the clasp of your bra. He managed to undo the latch in one, swift motion, and before giving you time to think, his lips wrapped around your nipple.

You moaned as the warmth from his mouth and the wetness of his tongue sucked, kissed, and bit at your nipple, his tongue gliding over the sensitive region. His hands caressed your hips slowly before the right one moved up to attend to the neglected breast; his fingers rolled the bud, pinching, flicking and eliciting beautiful sounds from you.

"Don't hold back" Chan breathed out. "I want to hear everything."

At this point, your body was burning, both from Chan's actions and from the awareness that this was all going to be on tape; you felt a coating of arousal pool up at your core, causing you to rub your clothed thighs together in attempts to gain some sort of friction. Chan noticed the action almost instantly, grinding his hips slightly into yours; you sighed almost out of relief as you felt his own arousal poking through the black fabric of his loose shorts.

Chan lifts off of you, his hands reaching for the bottom of his hoodie; however, you stopped him, your hands mirroring his actions. You wanted to strip him, wanted to be the one to revel in revealing his perfection. Chan sighed out of contenment as you lifted the sweatshirt over his head, messing up his hair in the process and discarding the article somewhere on the studio floor.

Ridding the hoodie revealed a toned torso, with glimmering, slightly-tanned abs sparkling in the glow of the studio. You instinctually moved your hands to lay upon his chest, just as you had done so many times before, sliding your palms down his body smoothly and causing him to shiver. He positioned his body back above you, leaning over your smaller frame.

"Let me take care of you, Love," he lightly growled out as he moved his hands down to hook under the waistband of your pants, flicking his gaze to meet yours for approval. You nodded repeatedly, causing Chan to giggle as he slid your pants and underwear down, throwing the clothing alongside his hoodie.

He relished at your arousal, his eyes looking blown out before any sexual act had been committed.

"Look at you, Darling," he whispered, sliding a fingers through your wetness and causing you to whine. "Always so pretty for me."

Before you could comprehend his words, your mind increasingly numbing at his actions, Chan inserted his pointer fingers, pumping the digit in and out of you slowly. The contact elicited a string of hearty, genuine moans from you; admittedly, you were louder than you usually were during sex. You were not sure if it was because of the arousal of being recorded or if you just felt particularly frustrated that day.

Whatever it was, the sounds escaping you were particularly tumultuous, and Chan thought the octave was perfect for what he wanted to accomplish.

Chan inserted his middle finger minutes after his first digit, his pace quickening along with the speed of your whines. He maneuvered his hands, reaching to where his thumb could brush against your clit and allowing you to feel as if you were on cloud nine. You repeatedly clenched around him, feeling your orgasm creeping up on you slowly but surely; however, Chan removed his fingers before you could reach the finish line, which earned a loud, aggravated whine from you.

"Channie!" you groaned, your pussy clenching around nothing as you bucked your hips up instinctively, attempting to receive any type of contact, even the slightest motion, that would bring you to your end.

"Why?"

"Adds an element of fun," Chan responded, his lips quirked into a smug smirk, "both to the music and to our little moments."

"I can't wait anymore, Chan," you whimpered out in response, making your boyfriend tsk at you appraisingly before he slid off his own bottoms.

He quickly lined his cock up with your entrance, rubbing through your folds teasingly; he complimented the prior action poking at the hole.

"Are you ready, Darling?" he questioned.

"Yes!" you yelped out, positioning your legs to wrap around Chan's torso.

"Beg for it, then," he commanded, causing your eyes to widen and your cheeks to flush from embarassment.

"This wasn't apart of the plan," you quietly mewled as Chan halted his teasing motions.

"Mm, maybe not, but I know what gets a reaction out of you," Chan admitted leaning down to whisper in your ear, his hot breath fanning your ears. "I gotta make sure this melody encapsulates as much of your perfection as possible. So, baby girl, if you want the same thing, I suggest you get to begging."

You let out an annoyed huff, your lips pursing into a sheepish pout as you reluctantly did as demanded of you.

"Please, Channie," you pleaded, your arms gripping his shoulders. "I need you so bad please. Please, please, please, baby." Chan chuckled lightly at your beseeching as he placed his hands on either side of your face.

"Good girl," he praised gently.

With that, he gently pushed himself inside of you. You both gasped at the feeling; Chan's length filled you completely, causing you to tingle with excitement as the familiar stretch swiftly morphed from pain into pleasure.

You gave Chan the go-ahead to move, and he held your hips tightly as he thrusted in and out of you; his lips parted, making their way to kiss and nip at your skin, the tips of his canines lightly poking you.

"You always feel so amazing, my love," he moaned out; you simply sighed in pleasure, clenching yourself around him as you melted into his stature. Rushes of pleasure shot throughout your body as Chan tighlty gripped onto your hips, his nails causing indents in your flesh.

The knot tightening in your stomach returns throughout Chan's thrusts, and you are unable to comprehend the sudden change in his demeanor from gentle to hazy. All you know is that it feels good and that you are losing yourself within his darkened gaze.

"Chan, oh my," you moan out, your voice high pitched and hoarse.

"You like that, Darling?" Chan questions as your noises pick up in pace. "Keep moaning for me. You're doing so well."

"'M close," you whimper out, holding onto Chan for dear life. Chan mandhandles your body upwards, still holding onto you in the new positions and burying his head in the crook of your neck.

"Cum for me then, Love," he commands; as soon as he gives the approval , your orgasm hits. Your brain becomes like mush, and your eyes flutter shut as the pleasure rocks through you.

You feel Chan halt in his movements and he slowly pulls out of you, allowing himself to finish on your stomach before laying beside you.

"Still with me?" he questions, pulling you into his arms.

"Mhm," you mumble, just barely able to hear his words. You feel tired all of a sudden, tangling your hands in Chan's hair, albeit much lighter this time.

"You did so good, Baby," Chan praised, holding you tightly against him. "Wait until you hear how beautiful you sound."

A week had passed since that night in the studio. You had not been allowed to hear the song yet, as Chan insisted it was, "not ready." His process was meticulous, almost obsessive, and though your curiosity burned, you let him do his thing.

Now, you were back in the studio, perched on the same couch where it had all happened. Chan stood by the mixing console, his headphones draped around his neck, a spark of nervous energy buzzing in his movements.

“It’s done,” he said, running a tired hand through his hair.

You shifted in your seat, heart thudding with anticipation.

“You’re making it sound like I should be scared,” you teased, though the slight tremble in your words told him part of you was nervous.

He shot you a lopsided grin, approaching you and sitting beside you on the couch. Strangely, there was a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes.

“You don’t have to listen if you’re not ready," he explained, his tone laced with a sense of reluctance. "It’s...intimate.” The way his voice dipped sensually on the last word made your pulse quicken and you instantly shook your head.

“No, I want to hear it,” you declined his offer, your words uttered softly. "Play it, please."

He nodded, a faint smile present as he slid his headphones over your ears and pressed play on the monitor. The room went silent, save for the faint hum of the equipment. As the first notes filled your ears, everything else slowly faded away.

The song started softly; it was a deep, pulsing rhythm that felt like a heartbeat, layered with delicate chords that swept over you like a whisper. Then, beneath the music, you heard it.

You.

It was a faint gasp, so quiet it almost blended into the background vocals, followed by the softest of moans mixed into the melody. The sounds sent a rush of heat to your cheeks as your mind flashed back to that night, to Chan’s hands, his lips, and the way he had coaxed those very sounds from you.

Your breath caught as the track built, the sensual undertones unmistakable. Every layer of the song felt personal, your breaths and your voice intertwined with the raw intensity of Chan's production. It was not overtly explicit, but the sensuality was undeniable, a secret language only the two of you could speak woven into the music.

When the track ended, you pulled the headphones off and stared at him, your mouth slightly agape.

“Chan...” You didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or throw the headphones at him. “That’s me.”

His lips twitched into a smirk, though his eyes searched yours for any sign of disapproval.

“It’s us,” he corrected. “I wanted it to feel sincere, like it replicated us to a tee.”

Your cheeks burned, contrasting the thrill that coursed through your veins. Chan scooted closer, leaning in front of you so his face was mere inches away from yours.

“You’re my muse,” he told you simply. “Every sound, every breath—it’s you. You inspire me.”

You shook your head, laughing softly.

“If people hear this-”

“They won’t know it’s you, if they even notice it's there,” he reassured, his voice gentle. “It’s subtle. Just for us.”

Your lips parted, still processing, but before you could say anything else, he cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin.

"You don't hate it, do you?"

“Hate it?” you echoed, shaking your head on denial. “I could never hate anything you create. The song is absolutely beautiful. It’s just...”

“Just?”

“...Really hot,” you admitted, biting your lip.

A deep laugh rumbled from his chest, and he leaned in, his forehead resting against yours.

“Good,” he murmured. “Because it’s the most personal thing I’ve ever made, and I want it to be for you as much as it is for me or for the fans.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

“Well,” you began, your voice dropping to a playful whisper, “if you ever need more inspiration..” Your voice trailed off as your fiddled with the chain of his necklace, your forehead still pressed gently against his. Chan grinned, his fingers tightening on your waist.

“Don’t tempt me, y/n.”

Taglist: @velvetmoonlght, @amararosesblog (If you would like to be added to the taglist, please let me know!)

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moonstruckme · 1 month ago

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hi! i just read your drabble with remus fixing the readers attitude and i was wondering if you could do the same with sirius? i really loved your other one and seen you were trying to take requests for sirius.

i hope you have a wonderful day!!

Thanks for requesting, hope you have a lovely day as well <3

cw: d/s dynamics, reader has hair troubles and uses products + tries running fingers through it so it's long enough for that

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 991 words

Sirius can hear you fuming from outside the bathroom. Heavy breaths and drawers being shut too harshly and the occasional, frustrated grunt. If it wouldn’t be such a betrayal of you, he’d take a video so Remus can see what he’s like while he’s transforming during a full moon.

“What’s going on in there, gorgeous?” he asks from the bed.

Your reply is nearly a growl. “Nothing.”

“Mm. Yeah, sounds like nothing.” Sirius gets up, going to the bathroom and nudging the door open. He leans against the doorframe as you scowl at yourself in the mirror, wringing product into your hair like you half hope it just tears off. “What’s got you so wound up?”

“Nothing.”

He tuts. “Not any more convincing the second time. Try again.”

You’re pointedly not looking at him, but Sirius notices that your scowl intensifies. “My hair is being fucking unbearable.”

Sirius opens his mouth, but you cut him off.

“And I don’t want to hear that it always looks good, or that you think I look nice no matter what, or any of that bullshit, okay?”

“That’s unfortunate. I’m sorry, sweetness, but I’m not going to start lying to you. Your hair is perfect, and you do always look—”

Your eyes bore into your own reflection, sharp and wrathful. “Don’t.”

Sirius’ eyebrows lift. “I’m sorry, don’t? Don’t compliment my girlfriend, or don’t be honest?”

“Either. I know you’re full of shit, because it looks insane right now, but even if you have miraculously gone blind since this morning, Lily and Alice will be there, and they know what hair should look like when it’s not being so—so—”

“Alright.” Sirius is beginning to grow amused with you. You’re so ridiculous when you’re upset, brash and squinty-eyed and cute. “Save yourself the exertion of finishing that sentence gorgeous. Take a breath.”

“I don’t want to breathe!”

“And yet, we all have to anyway.”

“God, Sirius, fuck off!” You finally lock eyes with him in the mirror, positively fuming. “I knew you wouldn’t get it. I’m trying to look nice for your friends, and you’re making fun of me! If my hair would just—fucking—” You appear to give up on the product, your attention returning to your hair as you begin dragging your fingers through it mercilessly. “—do what I tell it to, maybe then I’d fucking breathe, but instead it’s basically unsalvageable, and—”

“Oi.” Sirius’ humor at the situation has vanished. By the time you think to look at him he has both your hands in his, restrained from doing further damage to yourself. “No. If you’re going to be like this about going to Frank and Alice’s, we won’t go. So is that it, or can you be good?”

Sirius uses the sharp tone he knows you’ll respond to, but really he isn’t angry. He only wants to give you pause. And oh, it’s so sweet to watch the brattiness leave your eyes. The terse pucker of your mouth softens to an almost imperceptible pout, your whole demeanor shifting in an instant.

He takes both your wrists in one hand. With the other, Sirius cups the side of your throat, fingers curled around your nape and thumb rubbing against your erratic pulse.

“I need an answer,” he says.

“Yes,” you say, and your voice is soft, like the sharp edge from a minute ago has been bitten off. “I can.”

“Good.” Sirius allows his tone to gentle some, though he keeps his firm grip on your wrists. “Then you have to relax, baby. Breathe.”

This time, you do as you’re told. It works as he knew it would, your shoulders drooping after the long exhale like the last of the fight has finally gone out of you.

“Thank you.” He touches his lips briefly to the center of your forehead, pretending not to notice how you sway towards him for more. “Now, do you still want to go to Frank and Alice’s tonight?”

You open your mouth, but this time it’s Sirius who stops you.

“Wait. Really think about it. Are you going to enjoy yourself, or are you going to spend the whole time feeling weird about your hair?”

You hesitate, rubbing your lips together. Sirius strokes his thumb down the line of your throat approvingly.

“I still think I want to go,” you say after a few moments.

“Okay.” Sirius nods. “Then you’re going to let me braid your hair for you. You’ll look just as lovely and perfect as you do now, but you won’t be able to mess with it any more. Does that sound alright to you?”

Your relief is palpable. You let out a breath, eyes growing suspiciously bright. “Yeah. That would be great, thank you.”

“Okay, come here.” Sirius releases your neck and wrists to wrap his arms around you. He presses his lips to your lovely, perfect hair while you curl your hands in his shirt as if to keep him from slipping away. Like Sirius would ever want to. “Shh. You’re fine, baby. Ease up.”

“I’m sorry for snapping at you,” you mumble against his front.

“Yeah, I’ll bet. You did it more than once, if I recall.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know.” He laughs a little, hugging you tighter. “It’s okay. You get a hair insanity pass, just this once. Let’s have a good night, okay?”

You let out another sigh. Sirius rubs your back reflexively. “Yes, please.”

“M’kay. Let’s go.” He starts ushering you towards the bed, grabbing a couple of hair ties on his way out of the bathroom. “We’re done with the mirror for today. And no yelling at me while I do your hair, got it?”

You try on a coy smile; it’s small, but Sirius respects the effort. “I could never yell at you.”

“Uh huh. I may forgive, but I don’t forget that easily, sweetness. Try it again and we’ll be staying home to deal with that attitude of yours.”

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sevikaslatinawife · 1 month ago

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Soft Sevika Headcannons

Saw someone post they wanted more fluff for Sevika. Here’s my addition because I also believe we need more Sevika fluff.

NOTE: It has been brought to my attention that I added Sevika as “blushing”, and that it would not be visible on her skin tone. I will do better on this next time when writing.

ᡣ𐭩 — Forehead kisses.

Won’t ever admit to it but whenever you two are cuddling and you kiss her forehead, she melts. She just grunts and buries her face in your chest or anywhere where you won’t notice her blush.

You notice because even her ears get pink-tinted, but you never say anything. You just kiss the top of her head instead, liking the smell of her hair. This just receives another grunt for her and – maybe you were dreaming – feeling her lips quirk into a soft smile against your skin.

ᡣ𐭩 — Cuddling/Hugging.

She isn’t used to being held, not even something she grew up with, so the first time you hugged her, she felt light. She hugged you back and leaned her chin on your head while she held you. That is, after the initial shock of what was happening wore off.

She felt like she was vibrating and you pointed it out.

“You’re shaking,” you had said in a soft, concerned voice. She simple said, “I'm cold,” which you both knew was a lie. So you just smiled and hugged her tighter.

Whenever you two found yourselves with enough space, mostly a couch – specifically in Silco’s office – she would hug you close and bury her face in your hair or the crook of your neck.

She just takes calming breaths of your scent at your pulse point. She doesn’t think you’re real or with her, so smelling the heat of your skin and the ways it smells distinct, it calms her down.

ᡣ𐭩 — Having her hair played with.

Sevika was kind of taken aback the first time you touched her hair. Not because she didn’t like it, but with the softness that you did it with.

Now, she would lay on your lap and happily close her eyes while you played with her hair. When she had it longer, you’d take the ponytail off and run your fingers through the strands.

But now, she liked how you would rub the shaved part of her haircut with your fingertips. How you push the strands back to get a glimpse of her face because they couldn’t be tucked behind her ears as easily.

ᡣ𐭩 — Praises/Compliments.

The first time you told her she did a good job, was after she was grumbling about making being scolded by Silco – not an error she commited, but being told not to “Dissapoint him again.”

She looked at you like you were stupid but it made her heart race that you would think that of her. You could see the way her eyes shone, how glassy they looked when you said it.

So you kissed her cheek and told her again. “You did a good job, my love. Don't worry, you were wonderful.” You felt how she leaned into you when you cupped her cheek but only slightly. As if she didn't really believe the words you were telling her, like she was on edge you were just trying to soothe her and not really meaning to praise her. “You did do a good job,” You reassure. “You're my strong, wonderful girl.”

And maybe she melted and leaned her face into your hands while pulling you closer. You made sure to always praise her when you had the chance from then on.

ᡣ𐭩 — Your smell. [Curly Girl Edition.]

If you have curly hair and use products that smell a specific way, she buries her nose in your hair or neck where the smell clings to. Since it’s where your curls would brush against your skin and would leave it smelling the strongest.

Once you even caught her clicking the bottle of cream and sniffing it, frowning because it just wasn't the same. It smelt similar to you, but it smelt better on you, on your skin.

You didn't say anything, though, because you knew she'd never admit it, even after being caught.

Wanted it to be longer but couldn't come up with more :'( Please lmk what you think, if you'd like more and any headcannons you'd want me to add!

#sevika arcane #sevika headcanon #sevika x y/n #sevika x you #sevika x reader #arcane #sevika #arcane sevika #sevika hc #sevika x female reader #sevika lol #sevika my love #sevika comfort #sevika fluff #my lovely wife sevika #sevika league of legends #sevikaslatinawife

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ruewritesoccasionally · 2 months ago

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Welcome to the Neighbourhood | Terry Richmond

pairings: neighbour!terry richmond x neighbour!black reader

warnings: smut 18+, fluff, slow burn (if you squint), slightly rough/dom!terry - lmk if you think i missed anything else

summary: ready to put shelby springs behind him, terry ventures to start afresh - new job and new neighbourhood but the last thing he was expecting was to have an attractive neighbour waltz in and send his head spinning

word count: 5.4K

Shelby Springs had taken everything from him—his peace, his purpose, his faith in people. But Terrance Richmond wasn’t a man to let the past define him. He had to rebuild, brick by brick, until there was nothing left of the anger, pain, or memories that weighed him down. Once he’d made his peace, routine became his salvation. If there was one thing Terry wasn’t, it was idle.

Standing at 6’2, with muscles that didn’t come from sitting still, he carried himself with the discipline of a former Marine. He threw himself into rebuilding his life with the same focus, which is why the executive protection job posting felt like fate. It was an opportunity to start over. A new job, a new city—it wasn’t nature like he was used to, but he wasn’t about to say no to a clean slate.

The last of the moving boxes sat stacked on his driveway, waiting to be carried inside. As Terry hoisted one of the heavier ones, headlights flashed across his yard, catching his attention. His eyes followed the movements of a woman stepping out of a car, her keys in hand. If his hands hadn’t instinctively tightened around the box, the fine China inside would’ve been in pieces on the pavement.

Damn. She was... striking. The kind of striking that rooted a man to the spot and left his thoughts a tangled mess.

The pantsuit she wore clung to her figure in all the right ways, while soft curls framed her face like a work of art. Then she smiled, and he was done for.

She approached with a confident stride, her voice soft but laced with a teasing edge that only added to her allure. “Hey,” she said, flashing him an easy smile—the kind that could charm just about anyone. “Looks like they finally found someone to take the place. Congrats. I’m in a rush right now, but I get off work at 6. I’ll swing by to properly introduce myself—if that’s cool with you?”

Terry fumbled between a nod and a simple word of agreement, finally managing a quick, “Yeah, sounds good,” before she turned and climbed into her car.

She waved as she drove off, a soft giggle escaping her lips.

She knew she had a wicked flirt game, and today’s outfit choice was clearly the right one. As she headed to the office, an unusually good mood accompanied her. She couldn’t help but think about her new neighbour—broad shoulders, brooding eyes, and a quiet intensity that lingered even in their brief interaction.

Her curiosity burned through the day like a steady flame. Who was he? What was his story? And most importantly, would he be sticking around?

Terry tried to shake her out of his head as he tackled the last of the boxes. But it was no use. Her voice, her smile—they’d already sunk into his mind, leaving him restless and curious. 6 o’clock couldn’t come fast enough.

The sun was just beginning to set, casting a golden hue over the neighbourhood, when YN pulled into her driveway, a sense of anticipation bubbling in her chest. Work had been exhausting, but the thought of properly meeting her new neighbour had been the highlight of her day. She stepped into her house, kicked off her heels, and immediately headed for the shower. The warm water was a welcome relief, washing away the day's tension and leaving her feeling refreshed.

Dressed in something comfortable yet flattering—because first impressions mattered, even if she wasn’t technically trying—YN made her way into the kitchen. Cooking was a distraction, a way to channel her nerves into something productive. She whipped up a quick but hearty meal, pairing it with some baked goods she’d had stashed away. It was a neighbourly gesture, sure, but she’d also seen him. And let’s just say that the mysterious, rugged man across the street had piqued her curiosity.

Balancing the food containers carefully in her hands, YN walked across to his house. The porch light was on, a warm glow illuminating the otherwise quiet street. She knocked twice, stepping back as she waited.

Inside, Terry had been pacing his living room for the past fifteen minutes, glancing at the clock and then the front door as if he could will someone to show up. He’d told himself it was silly, but the memory of their brief interaction that morning had stayed with him all day. She was charming, poised, and stunning, and the idea of seeing her again had stirred something in him he couldn’t quite name.

When the knock finally came, he opened the door to find her standing there, her smile lighting up the dimming evening. His expression softening into something she could only describe as relief. His eyes flicked down to the food in her hands, then back up to her face, his lips twitching as though he were fighting the urge to smile.

For a split second, neither of them spoke, just taking each other in. Then, at the same time, they both blurted out their names.

"Terrance Richmond." "YN."

The words collided, and they both paused before bursting into laughter.

"No, you go," she said, waving a hand for him to continue.

He shook his head with a small, amused smile. "No, you first. I insist."

She gave in, introducing herself again, this time with a little less fluster. “Sorry about the rush this morning. I was running late for work. I figured I’d make it up to you by bringing some dinner—just thought I’d save you the trouble of cooking or ordering in tonight.”

Terry raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised but not ungrateful. “That’s... really kind of you. Thank you.” He stepped aside, gesturing for her to come in.

YN wasn’t sure what she’d expected—half-packed boxes or chaos, maybe—but his house was already well put together. Everything had its place, and the space looked cosy, even lived-in.

“You’ve been busy,” she remarked, glancing around.

Terry followed her gaze, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Yeah, I couldn’t keep still. Needed to get everything done.”

The motion of his hand raised the hem of his shirt just enough to reveal a sliver of his abdomen, and her breath hitched involuntarily at the sight. He was... sculpted, to say the least. She tried to keep her expression neutral, but the deep heat rising in her cheeks betrayed her.

Terry noticed—of course, he noticed. His lips quirked into a subtle smirk, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “You okay over there?” he teased, his voice dipping lower.

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Totally fine,” she stammered, mentally cursing herself. Way to keep it together, YN.

“Kitchen’s this way,” he said, leading her further inside.

In the kitchen, she set the food down on the counter while Terry rummaged through a cabinet for plates and cutlery.

“Wine or whiskey?” he asked, holding up a tumbler in one hand and a wine glass in the other.

She tilted her head, eyeing him playfully. “You strike me as the rough-around-the-edges whiskey type. But I could be wrong.”

He raised an eyebrow, his smirk returning. “And you strike me as the sophisticated wine type. Guess we’re both full of surprises.”

She laughed softly, choosing the wine glass. “Maybe just a little bit of both,” she said, holding up her glass in a mock toast.

Dinner passed with ease, the conversation flowing effortlessly between them. She learned about his time in the Marines, his decision to move to the city, and his plans to settle into a new routine. In turn, he listened intently as she spoke about her work as a lawyer and the challenges that came with it.

“Why executive protection?” she asked, genuinely curious.

He hesitated for a moment, his gaze dropping to his glass. “It seemed like the right move. I needed something to focus on, something to ground me after...I guess I wanted to keep helping people… just without all the…” He gestured vaguely, his voice trailing off.

She nodded, understanding the weight of what he wasn’t saying. “That makes sense. You’re a protector. It suits you.”

Instead, she smiled softly, changing the subject to something lighter. “Well, I think the neighbourhood gossip will be all over you in no time. New guy, good-looking, and clearly handy with a moving box? You’re prime material.”

Terry chuckled, shaking his head. “And here I thought I’d be flying under the radar.”

“Not a chance,” she teased, raising her glass.

The evening passed in a blur of laughter and easy conversation, the initial awkwardness fading into a comfortable rhythm. By the time the food was gone and the wine bottle nearly empty, she realised how late it had gotten.

“I should let you get some rest,” she said, standing and gathering her things.

Terry walked her to the door, his presence warm and steady beside her. “Thanks for coming over. And for dinner. You didn’t have to, but... it means a lot.”

She smiled, the sincerity in his voice catching her off guard. “It’s my turn to host next time,” she said, stepping out onto the porch.

“I’ll hold you to that,” he replied, leaning casually against the doorframe.

As she walked back to her house, she felt his eyes on her, and when she reached her front door, she turned to find him still standing there, waiting. She gave him a small wave before stepping inside, and only then did he close his door.

Back in her kitchen, she leaned against the counter, her thoughts lingering on Terrance Richmond—the man who’d somehow managed to make an ordinary evening feel anything but.

It had been two months of playful banter, stolen moments, and a rhythm they’d fallen into so effortlessly it felt like second nature. Their evenings were a mix of wholesome exploration and daring escapades��her showing him the city from her unique perspective. Quiet cafés tucked into alleys, her favourite jazz bar that always felt alive no matter the hour, daring rooftop views that made her heart race as much as his lingering glances. Terry soaked it all in, learning her through the places she loved.

And then there were the nights. Nights when she’d invite him into her world, sharing wine and laughter, their knees brushing under the table, their gazes holding just a beat too long. Nights when he’d introduce her to the simplicities he cherished: an old movie, a game of cards, or just sitting on his porch with whiskey and comfortable silence. The friendship that brewed between them was comforting, but the undercurrent of something more was undeniable.

He didn’t mind bending the rules, like ignoring speed limits to race home just to catch her as she pulled into her driveway. There was something magnetic about the sight of her at the end of a long day. The way she’d stride out of her car, hair loosened from its bun, buttons of her blouse slightly undone, her lips still stained with that red lipstick that drove him wild. It was like she carried the day’s fire with her, igniting something in him without even trying. He’d lean against his porch, offering her a nightcap with that low, smooth voice of his, and she’d grin, the tension of her day easing away.

She had never been more grateful that Terry’s job required him to wear a suit. Seeing him waiting for her in all his tall, broad-shouldered glory, tie loosened, dark stormy eyes carrying a story from the day, was a sight she never grew tired of. Her eyes would linger, tracing the outline of his strong frame and sharp jawline. Even the way he held himself—calm, composed—was intoxicating. Their usual routine of “Hey, stranger. Fancy seeing you here,” never got old, but there was something different about today.

She parked her car with noticeably less energy, the weight of her day evident in the slight slump of her shoulders. Terry caught it immediately. He leaned against his porch, the usual playful smirk tugging at his lips, but it faded when she approached.

“Hey, stranger,” he said softly, his voice warm but cautious.

“Fancy seeing you here,” she replied, but her tone lacked its usual spark. Her eyes flickered to his, and though her lips curved into a faint smile, it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“You okay?” he asked, taking a step closer.

She exhaled, shaking her head lightly. “Rough day. I don’t think I’m up for anything tonight.”

He nodded, though disappointment briefly flickered across his features. “I get it. Let me know if you need anything, okay?”

“Thanks, Terry,” she said, her voice soft as she turned toward her door.

He watched her retreat into her house, resisting the urge to follow. Respecting her space was the right thing to do, but it didn’t stop the lingering ache in his chest. Something felt off, and it wasn’t just her mood—it was the absence of her presence.

Back in his house, Terry tried to distract himself. He pushed through an intense workout in his home gym, the rhythm of his heart pounding in his ears as he lifted, punched, and ran his frustration away. But no amount of sweat could shake the feeling that something wasn’t right.

Showered and changed into a snug grey T-shirt and sweatpants, he found himself pacing his living room. The hours stretched, and the silence grew unbearable. It was stupid—he felt like barely knew her but they had spent so much time together that being apart for the one night felt wrong, and the thought of her being upset made him restless. Finally, he grabbed a bottle of wine and decided to check on her. If nothing else, she deserved someone to talk to.

Terry knocked twice, the bottle balanced in his hand. The sound of footsteps reached him, and when the door swung open, he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing.

She stood there, framed by the warm glow of her house, wrapped in a silk negligee the colour of deep mauve. The fabric flowed from her shoulders, clinging to her curves in a way that made his breath hitch. It accentuated the fullness of her breasts, the gentle dip of her waist, and the teasing slit that revealed her smooth, toned thigh. Her dark skin shimmered against the luxurious fabric, and her loose hair framed her face like a crown.

He stared, momentarily dumbfounded. “I, uh...” His usual composure failed him.

Her lips twitched, the faintest hint of amusement breaking through the tiredness in her eyes. “Terry,” she said softly, “are you okay?”

He cleared his throat, forcing his gaze to meet hers. “I just... I wanted to check on you. You seemed off earlier.”

Her expression softened, her fingers brushing against the doorframe. “I’m okay. Just needed some time to breathe.”

He held up the bottle. “I figured you might still need that nightcap. But if this is a bad time—”

She stepped aside, a small but genuine smile tugging at her lips. “It’s not.”

He walked in, acutely aware of how close their bodies brushed as he passed her. The faint scent of her perfume—warm, sensual, with a hint of spice—wrapped around him, making it impossible to focus on anything else.

As she closed the door, she turned to face him, her head tilted slightly. “Thanks for checking on me. Most people wouldn’t bother.”

He set the bottle on the counter, turning to face her with a small shrug. “I’m not most people.”

Her smile widened, the tension of her day beginning to unravel. “No, you’re not.”

And there it was again—that spark, that unspoken pull between them. The air felt heavier, charged with something they both knew they couldn’t ignore much longer.

The room was cloaked in a heady tension that neither of them could escape. She leaned against the counter, her fingers brushing absentmindedly against the cool marble surface as she watched him pour the wine. His tall, commanding frame moved with an easy grace that was almost hypnotic, the tight grey T-shirt clinging to his broad chest and shoulders, highlighting every muscle. His stormy blue-grey eyes caught the light for a fleeting second as he glanced up, and they seemed to darken when they met hers.

"Rough day, huh?" His voice was deep, smooth, and rich, yet there was an edge to it, like he was holding something back.

"Yeah," she murmured, her gaze lingering on the way his big hands gripped the bottle. Those hands. She tried to focus on what he was saying, but her mind betrayed her, wandering to how they might feel against her skin, firm yet gentle, exploring every inch of her.

"You don’t talk about work much," he said, leaning casually against the opposite counter, though there was nothing casual about the way his eyes roamed her figure. His gaze lingered on the curve of her waist, the silk of her negligee clinging to her full breasts and cascading down to her thick thighs. His throat bobbed as he swallowed, but his focus never wavered.

"Work’s work," she replied, her voice quieter than she intended. The usual playfulness in her tone was replaced with something softer, more vulnerable. She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks, but she wasn’t sure if it was from his smouldering gaze or the thoughts racing through her mind.

"That’s fair," he said, his lips curling into a faint smirk, though his voice had dropped an octave. He took a sip of his wine, his sharp jaw flexing slightly as he tilted his head back. She could barely breathe.

The air between them felt thick, electric. Every glance, every subtle movement was charged with an intensity that neither of them could ignore. She wanted to say something, anything, but her eyes kept drifting to his lips, full and smooth, and how easily they curved into that devastatingly charming smile. She wondered what they’d feel like against hers, how they’d taste.

"You seem... distracted," he teased, his voice low and husky.

She huffed a soft laugh, shaking her head. "Says the man who hasn’t stopped staring."

"You’re hard not to stare at," he admitted, his tone serious now.

Her heart skipped a beat, and her fingers tightened around the glass in her hand. "You’re not so bad yourself," she said, her voice steady despite the wild thrum in her chest.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable—it was suffocating in the best way. The kind of silence that demanded action, that begged for release.

And then it happened.

He set his glass down with a soft clink and took a step toward her, closing the distance between them. "You don’t know what you do to me," he murmured, his voice rough, raw with restraint. "Seeing you every morning, looking so damn fine, so put together... And then at night, when you come to mine, when you let your guard down and laugh like the world hasn’t put you through hell that day... I’m here, losing my mind over you, woman."

Her breath hitched, her wide eyes searching his stormy gaze. His words were like gasoline to the fire already burning inside her. "Terry..." she started, but the words caught in her throat.

"No," he cut her off gently, his big hands cupping her face, his thumbs brushing along her jaw. "Let me say this. From the first day I saw you, I knew you were gonna ruin me. And you have. I can’t think straight when you’re around, and when you’re not..." He trailed off, his gaze dropping to her lips.

She felt her chest tighten, her own thoughts spinning out of control. "I’ve liked you since day one," she admitted, her voice barely a whisper.

His lips quirked into a soft, almost disbelieving smile. "Yeah?"

She nodded, her cheeks warm. "Yeah."

That was all he needed to hear.

His lips crashed against hers, and everything else melted away. His hands slid down to her waist, pulling her closer until her soft curves were pressed firmly against his muscular frame. She moaned softly into the kiss, her hands exploring the expanse of his chest, feeling the hard planes beneath the fabric of his shirt.

"Terry," she gasped as his lips trailed to her neck, his warm breath sending shivers down her spine.

"You’re perfect," he murmured against her skin, his hands roaming over her thick thighs, her generous hips, memorising every part of her. "So damn perfect."

Her fingers tangled in his short, dark hair as he lifted her effortlessly onto the counter, his lips returning to hers with a fervour that left her breathless. The silk of her negligee rode up, baring more of her dark, supple skin to his touch.

"You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this," he rasped, his stormy eyes locking with hers as his hand slid up her thigh.

"Show me," she whispered, her voice dripping with desire.

And he did. The tension that had been building for months finally erupted, their movements urgent yet unhurried, savouring every touch, every kiss, every moment. It was the turning page they’d both been waiting for, the start of something they both knew would change everything.

The moment between them burned hotter as they moved upstairs, their lips locked in a fiery kiss that only deepened with each step. Breathless moans filled the spaces where their mouths parted, the sound mingling with the faint creak of the stairs. Terry’s strong arms tightened around her, lifting her effortlessly. Her thighs instinctively clasped around his waist, holding on to him as if her life depended on it. Her fingers found their way under his t-shirt, her fingertips brushing against the hard ridges of his back muscles, revelling in the sheer strength he carried so easily.

His grip on her waist was firm, his large hands branding her as his own, sending a thrilling pulse through her body that promised to linger long after tonight. His touch roamed with purpose, tracing the swell of her thighs and the curve of her hips. When his palm landed on her ass with a sharp slap, followed by a teasing squeeze, she gasped into his mouth, her body arching into him. Terry let out a deep, gravelly chuckle, the sound dripping with satisfaction, as if her every reaction was fuel to the fire raging within him.

With his lips trailing down her jaw, then returning to claim her mouth, he blindly led them toward her bedroom. His back pressed against the door as he maneuvered it open, never breaking their heated connection. Once inside, Terry seated himself at the edge of her bed, pulling her closer onto his lap. She straddled him, her negligee riding higher, teasing them both. Her nails running over his short, dark hair, dragging them just enough to make him groan deeply, the sound vibrating between them. His large hands explored her curves freely now, roaming the softness of her body like a man starved.

As their lips crashed together again, Terry’s control snapped. With an effortless move, he flipped her onto her back, his strength leaving her breathless. The sudden shift made her gasp, her hair splaying out across the sheets as she looked up at him. His body hovered above hers, broad and muscular, his chest rising and falling as he stared down at her. The look on his face—raw, unfiltered desire—sent a thrill through her core. His eyes darkened with lust, his brows knit together in a mixture of longing and determination.

“Terry...” she whispered, her voice trembling under the weight of the moment, her body humming with anticipation.

He lowered himself, his lips brushing the sensitive skin of her collarbone before moving to her ear. His voice, deep and husky, made her shiver. “You don’t know what you do to me, YN,” he repeated. “Not being able to touch you like this.”

Her breath hitched, his confession sending waves of heat coursing through her body. Her hands gripped his biceps, feeling the tension coiled in him, the restraint he had fought for so long finally slipping. "Terry," she whispered again, her voice soft yet laced with her own need.

“You’re perfect, you know that?” he rasped, his gaze trailing over her. “Every damn curve... your thighs, your hips... these gorgeous lips I can’t stop thinking about. You’re driving me insane, YN.”

She grew needier, her dark skin glowing under the low light of the room. Her hands roamed across his back, her nails lightly grazing his skin as she pulled him closer, their bodies pressed together. Every touch, every kiss, every whispered word sent sparks flying between them, a tangible current neither could resist.

“Show what you’ve been wanting to do to me”, she breathlessly said.

That was all the permission Terry needed, he lowered his body down hers stopping at her thighs and slowly pusher lingerie up body signalling for her to raise arms so he could undress her. Eyes taking in every detail and she almost shied under his lustful gaze, but he quietened thoughts as he dipped his head down and his mouth parted to envelope the nipple that called for his attention. He bit, licked, sucked and swirled, teasing that bud and showing the other one the same love – “this is what you were hiding me, angel?” His voice, so many decibels lower she almost didn’t recognise it.

“Out of words already, baby? Don’t worry, I’ve got something that’ll bring that voice back”

YN watched as his hands travelled and worked down her body, lighting a trail of fire in their wake. They moved with such expertise, like he had time to study what made her wet – either that or she was just entirely ready for him. Her panties did nothing to disguise her puffy lips or the slickness that dampened the front, she would’ve been embarrassed if she wasn’t so turned on but this was a long time coming.

Terry's lips worked their way down her body, slow and purposeful, leaving a searing trail of anticipation in their wake. When he reached the apex of her thighs, he spread her legs wider, his firm grip sending shivers through her. His stormy eyes flicked up to meet hers, a silent yet urgent question. She responded by gripping the back of his head, guiding him exactly where she needed him most.

He hungrily obeyed, his tongue moving with an aggressive precision that mirrored her unspoken desire. Every stroke was deliberate, every flick of his tongue a testament to his singular focus on her pleasure. His large hands slid up her thighs, his grip firm and grounding as her body trembled beneath him.

Her nails grazed the smooth skin at the back of his head, her soft cries urging him on, and he fed on every sound she made like it was a reward. The way she arched into him, her breathless gasps and whispered curses, only drove him further. He was relentless, addicted to the way she tasted, the way her body writhed under his control.

“Terry…” she moaned, her voice breaking as he increased the pressure, his tongue and lips working in perfect rhythm. He felt her thighs quake against his shoulders, her body teetering on the edge.

“Come on, YN,” he murmured against her, the vibration of his voice sending her spiraling. “I want to feel it. Let go for me.”

With a cry that echoed through the room, she shattered, her release coursing through her like a wave. Terry didn’t stop, prolonging her pleasure, tasting every part of her as though he couldn’t get enough. And as he finally pulled back, his lips glistening, he looked up at her with a dark, satisfied smirk.

Terry’s gaze was locked on her, dark and burning with intensity. She was already bare before him, her body glowing in the low light, every curve and line drawing him in like a man possessed. He knelt on the bed, his knees framing hers, and his hand traced the side of her thigh, firm and deliberate.

“I don’t know how I kept control this whole time,” he muttered, his voice laced with restrained desire. Grabbing her wrist, he guided her hand to the thick length straining against the fabric of his sweatpants. Her eyes widened, and her breath hitched as her fingers instinctively wrapped around him. His jaw clenched at the contact, a low groan slipping from his lips.

“I’m ready to put this where it belongs,” he growled, his voice rough, primal. He stood, his movements deliberate as he tugged off his sweatpants and boxers in one swift motion. When he stood before her, completely bare, her mouth went dry, her pulse racing. His body was a perfect balance of strength and masculinity—toned, powerful, and overwhelming in every sense of the word.

She couldn’t stop the breathless moan of his name. “Terry…” she whimpered, her voice a mix of pleading and desperation.

She reached for him, her nails grazing over the hard ridges of his abs, earning a sharp hiss as he captured her wrist again. His other hand gripped her hip, pulling her toward him as he rolled his body against hers, letting her feel every inch of his arousal pressing into her. She gasped, the friction igniting something primal in her.

“Are you ready to take all of me?” his voice sending shivers down her spine.

Before she could respond, he flipped her onto her stomach with ease, his hands tugging her hips back toward him. A surprised gasp escaped her, quickly replaced by a low moan as his lips found the sensitive spot behind her ear, his teeth grazing her skin. One hand pressed into the small of her back, pinning her in place, while the other slid up her thigh, rough and demanding.

She lifted her head slightly, her eyes catching the mirror across the room. The sight of their bodies intertwining—the dominance in his stance, the way her body responded to his every touch—made her breath hitch. Her body trembled beneath him, overwhelmed by the heat and tension building between them.

But just as his fingers trailed higher, grazing her most sensitive spot, he stilled. His lips brushed against the shell of her ear, and his tone softened, though the intensity remained.

“Tell me you want this,” he murmured, his voice low and commanding. “I need to hear it, YN.”

Her body writhed beneath him, every nerve alight with need. “I want this… and you. I need it, T. Please,” she pleaded, her voice desperate, her core weeping and throbbing for him.

That was all he needed. In one smooth, deliberate motion, he thrust into her, filling her completely. She cried out, her fingers clutching the sheets as her body adjusted to the overwhelming sensation. He didn’t give her a moment to recover, his movements relentless and precise, each thrust stealing the breath from her lungs.

“Look at you,” he muttered, his voice low and gravelly. “Taking me so perfectly. You were made for me, weren’t you?”

Her head lolled to the side, her cries and moans echoing in the room. She could barely form a coherent response, her mind clouded with nothing but him. Instead, she let her body speak for her, meeting his movements with equal fervour, the sound of their bodies colliding only heightening the intensity.

As her body tightened around him, the pressure building to an unbearable peak, he slowed. His hand slid around to cup her face, turning her head so he could kiss her. It wasn’t rough like before—it was slow, deep, and tender, a kiss that felt like a promise. Her body trembled, her moan muffled against his lips as her release overtook her, crashing over her in waves.

He followed soon after, a guttural groan escaping him as he buried himself deeper, his grip on her waist tightening. For a moment, the room was filled with nothing but the sound of their laboured breaths and the faint rustle of the sheets.

Finally, he collapsed beside her, pulling her into his arms. His lips pressed against her forehead, the tenderness in the gesture a stark contrast to the passion they’d just shared.

“You okay?” he asked softly, brushing a damp strand of hair from her face.

She nodded, her cheek pressed against his chest as her breathing slowly steadied. “More than okay,” she murmured, a small, satisfied smile tugging at her lips.

He chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. “Good,” he said, his voice low but warm. “Because I’m not done with you yet.”

The promise lingered in the air, and she couldn’t help but laugh, the sound light and carefree as she nestled closer to him, feeling completely and utterly content.

comments and reblogs are appreciated as well as feedback, i hope you liked it 🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

and take a shot for every time i mentioned 'stormy' or 'eyes' loooool

#aaron pierre #aaron pierre x black reader #aaron pierre x black!reader #aaron pierre x black!oc #rebel ridge #terry richmond #terry richmond x black reader #terry richmond x black! reader #terry richmond x black!oc #aaron pierre smut #aaron pierre fanfic #terry richmond smut #terry richmond fic #ruewrites

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ikeuki · 3 months ago

Text

and the world kept spinning ! / 니키

( pairing ) nishimura riki x fem!reader ✶ grumpy x sunshine ; fluff/crack, light cursing + one mention of a dealer/"product" — ( wordcount ) 1.3k

ᯓ★ ikeuki’s note. mr. nonchalant is not so nonchalant now…HE’S SELLING !!!

synopsis. after getting detention on picture day, riki swears he hates you—his actions do not follow his words however.

“i'm gonna dip at lunch.” jake decided and laid back.

“same i have a bio test during fifth that i'm not trying to do,” heeseung added and leaned on the classroom’s wall.

it was routine for the older boys to accompany riki in his class before the bell rang since they all had class without him. riki’s classmates refused to even look to the back of the room where the delinquents were sprawled out.

jake was trying to paper football with sunghoon, having his legs on some poor kid’s desk and flicking a triangle “football,” made out of that same kid’s notebook paper.

sunghoon was half-playing with jake and half-on his phone. his additions to the conversation were the occasional “mhm” and “yeah i'm down.”

jay was sitting in front of riki, turned around with his arms resting on the chair. he continued speaking to heeseung, who was by the window, about their plans to ditch.

“um since when do you take bio?” jake asked, repositioning his little football before flicking it across the desk, through sunghoon’s goal.

“since forever—just haven’t been to actual class yet,” heeseung answered with a laugh.

“so riki, you gonna ditch with us?” jay asked the younger boy who was carving random drawings on his desk with an overly sharpened pencil.

“uh i don't know...my mom's been on my ass since i ditched on monday, she got a call from the school or something,” riki mumbled, keeping his eyes on the smudged lead in front of him.

he was still upset at how the school dean reported riki leaving the school premises during picture day. everyone else was doing it and he just happened to be the only one who got caught. maybe if he wasn't so distracted that day...

“you’re joking—they still do that?” jake asked.

“apparently.” he recalled that day, when he was waiting in line to get his picture taken so he could slip out unnoticed. unfortunately, his long last name prevented him from leaving in the morning like the rest of his friends and was stuck in the stuffy gym for more than three hours.

he thought it was pretty unproductive. on the school’s part. the students would all line up then go to class once done. but since they can’t monitor each student leaving, they’re giving everyone a one way ticket out of class!

moments before his impatience was going to kill him, he was distracted by a vanilla-scented girl who would click her heels nonstop.

aka, you.

after your little interaction, riki swiftly exited the gym, but not before turning to watch you take your picture through the door's window. you smiled softly, teeth showing naturally with your lip gloss shining under the reflective screen.

you easily listened to his advice, his scoff turning into more of a subtle smile. his eyes followed your figure hop off the black stool and pick up your freshly printed student id.

"hey!" a voice called from down the hall.

riki whipped his head towards the sound to see a man walking towards him, "why aren't you in class!" oh shit, it was the dean.

thus, he got detention and the dean called his mom to tattletale his "ditching." he blamed it on you. if you hadn't clicked your stupid little heels, he would have never talked to you and then would have never stood there outside the gym, out in the open for any hall monitors (or deans...) to come and catch him.

now he had to bail on his friends and was in deep shit at home. all because of you and your stupid heels. and stupid curls. and stupid vanilla-scented perfume. whatever!

jay continued talking about their afterschool activities and heeseung shared that his dealer just shipped new product. uninterested in the conversation, riki turned his head to the window. his eyes drifted outside where students were rushing to class.

he skimmed through the various students he never cared to look twice at. until a familiar figure emerged from the hurried crowd.

wait—soft and shiny hair, little black heels, and the freshly pressed school uniform that never looked this good on any other student. riki knew that girl anywhere.

you were chatting away with your friends, too immersed in whatever you were saying to notice the steps by the front of the building. your mouth was moving at the same speed as your legs. failing to see the four steps ahead of you, your little black heels tripped on the first one.

riki instantly stood up. pushing back his chair and desk and watching as you fell forward. the loud movement from his desk attracted the attention of everyone in the class, turning to watch their silent, mysterious classmate become the star of the spotlight. riki didn’t even notice though, his eyes glued to your clumsy figure.

“dude—!” jake exclaimed at the sudden movement.

“what the fu—” jay moved back.

luckily (not for riki), class president and top student, yang jungwon managed to step forward just in time to catch you. the scene played out like one from a kdrama, him swiftly turning you on your back and making you lock eyes with your savior.

riki watched from across the courtyard, three stories above, and through the window as you two smiled at each other before you awkwardly got to your feet. he watched as you patted his shoulder and rambled an apology.

your cheeks were flushed, a little embarrassed and maybe a little blushing. riki hoped it was only the first.

hold up.

why would he care if you were blushing. blushing for that goody-two shoes yang jungwon—who all the teachers and students adored. whatever. you should’ve fallen on your face, riki would’ve liked that better…yeah he totally would’ve.

“what the hell man!” heeseung asked, gripping onto his shoulder to question his outburst.

snapping out of his trance, riki turned to his friend and finally realized that everyone was staring at him. he wasn’t used to such attention.

“o-oh..uhh it’s nothing—i thought—nothing nevermind.” riki stammered, embarrassed. he quickly took his seat again and kept his head down to avoid any awkward glances. the class slowly returned to their conversations, ignoring the boy’s questionable actions.

“what do you mean nothing...” sunghoon spoke up, furrowing his eyebrows.

before his friends could continue hounding him for an answer, the front door slid open with a loud slam! everyone turned their heads to the teacher walking into the class. upon spotting the four misplaced boys, his demeanor immediately turned sour.

“yah! you four—get to class!” the teacher shouted from the door, pointing to the obviously out-of-place seniors in a junior class.

startled but unmoved, the boys casually got to their feet and walked to the back door.

“im so sorry teach, we just love our riki so much!” jake fake apologized and bowed a whole ninety-degrees.

the other three began putting their hands together and bowing too, sarcastically muttering apologies to the teacher and the other students.

“GET OUT!”

“have fun learning algebra!” heeseung shouted with only his head peeking in from the back door. riki only laughed at his annoyingly loud friends as they ran out into the hallway.

as the teacher began class, he looked back out the window to see you long gone. instantly, he internally slapped his own face.

‘stop looking at the window, riki.’

‘why are you looking for her, riki.’

‘she likes jungwon, riki.’

‘STOP THINKING ABOUT HER, RIKI!’

riki kept his eyes shut and tried to calm his own crazy thoughts. he put his head down on his desk, ignoring whatever the teacher started blabbering about.

with the inviting warmth of the sunlight radiating through the window, he was slowly drifting to sleep when suddenly he heard the door open.

click. clack. click.

#ikeuki ⭑.ᐟ #ni ki x reader #enhypen #enha #enha fluff #niki x reader #enha imagines #enha x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen niki #enhypen x reader #niki nishimura #riki fluff #riki imagines #enhypen riki #nishimura riki #riki x reader #enhypen nishimura riki #nishimura niki x reader

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seungfl0wer · 3 months ago

Text

*𝑶𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝑴𝒆*

Pairing: Jeongin x Reader (Fem)

Genre: Smut (Short One Shot)

Warnings: Corruption, Virgin!Jeongin, Oral(Both), Multiple: Rounds, Orgasms, Creampies, Unprotected sex, Slight degrading, public, hair pulling, I think that’s all? Sorry for any mistakes or missing warnings!

A/N: This is my first time attempt at a corruption kink so I hope I did it justice! This came out way longer than I anticipated and I wrote it over two days so I’m sorry if it’s kinda weird? Idk man lol. I hope you enjoy it!

Find Request Here

-🖤

Jeongin was known as the shy guy in class. You had never seen him talking to anymore, he always just kept his head in his books. You always wondered to yourself if he lived a double life or something because he was way too handsome to be this anti social kinda guy. As class went on you had to pick partners for a project so you made the choice to ask him to your partner.

When you walked up to him his eyes blinked at you in almost confusion. “Jeongin wanna be my partner?” You asked with a smile.

His eyes blinked quickly then down at his desk to avoid your gaze “I- uhm- s-sure” he managed to stutter out.

“Awesome! Here’s my number! Let’s meet up and talk about the project later yeah?” You smiled writing down your number on his paper. You flashed him that sweet smile one last time before walking back to your seat.

Jeongin breathed out like he was holding his breath. His face beat red not knowing what just happened. You were one of the most beautiful people to him. You were smart, kind and just stunning. He thought the world was just playing some jokes on him to have you come over to him. As he stared down at your number he felt a lump in his throat swallowing hard, he got his phone out putting your number in.

Jeongin: Are you positive you wanna be my partner?

He texted feeling regret after sending it. You smiled to yourself seeing it pop up.

You: Duh, you wanna meet at the library later? How’s 5 sound?

Jeongin: Sounds good.

Jeongin was screaming inside, he was so nervous. He’s never really talked to many girls only ever having one relationship ever when he was a teenager. He’s only ever had one singular peck on the lips so having you want to be his partner kinda made him feel proud almost.

When 5 came you were sitting in the corner of the library, the collage had comfy sides so you could relax and work. You sat on a beanbag chair almost curled up just waiting for him to come. When you saw him walk in you smiled waving him over to where you were sitting. His eyes didn’t meet your gaze looking everywhere else but you.

“Hey! You ready to start” you asked.

“Y-yeah uhm so what uhm did you want to do it on?” He asked back.

“Well from the topics why don’t we do it on gaming soundtracks?” You said looking at your paper.

The class you both were in was music production. Funny enough you both were in a lot of the same classes because you both were looking for a future in some sort of music field.

His head perked up at the thought of it. “Wait you wanna do video game stuff?” He asked almost dumbfounded.

“Yeah! I think it would be fun, I actually enjoy gaming a lot” you said with that oh so sweet smile.

He felt his heart do flips, he started asking about your favorite games, what console you used etc. You’ve never seen him so excited or talk so much for that matter. You happily answered all his questions each one making his heart just melt even more. I guess he can add gamer to the list of things he found attractive about you.

As you both started to talk about the project you moved closer to him. Your leg brushing against his. He felt a jolt go up his back his body stiffening. You were so close to him he could smell your perfume. “Hey, the library is gonna be closing soon you wanna come back to my apartment and keep working? I can order us some food.” You said before getting an excited “I can show you my gaming set up!” You said with a bright smile. He nodded feeling a bit excited as well to see your set up.

You got back to your place throwing your stuff down at the coffee table. “Make yourself at home” you said. Your apartment was small but it was cozy, it was a little messy with papers cluttering places. “Sorry for the mess” you said feeling a bit embarrassed. “Oh oh!” You said taking jeongin hand “let me show you my set up!” You said dragging him down the hall to your bedroom. His eyes widened as he walked in feeling like he shouldn’t be in here.

His attention was on your set up now though “No way! It looks awesome!” He said with a wide smile. He started geeking out over your equipment and how nice your color scheme was. You both almost completely forgot about doing the project sitting at your desk and just talking about gaming.

“You wanna test it?” You asked moving from the chair.

“Definitely” he said with a smile.

You pulled up all your games letting him pick whatever. When he started to struggle a bit with the controls you moved him a bit sitting on his lap. “Here let me change them for you so it easier” you said. His mind was blank. Every thought he might have had gone. Here you were sitting on his lap like it was nothing. He felt a breath get caught in his throat his hands not knowing where to sit.

You really didn’t do it for any other reason to help him until you felt his cock starting to poke at you. You smirked to yourself ‘this would be fun’. You moved your ass back against him a bit testing his reaction. He bit his lip feeling a groan dare to escape. This sweet innocent man didn’t know what to do. He had his eyes shut tightly hands gripping at the arm rest. Oh was it so hot to know how you were driving him crazy without even doing anything. In that moment you knew you wanted to corrupt him. To make him only be able to think of you. To only have one thought behind those beautiful eyes, you.

“Jeongin’ie are you alright?” You asked in a sickeningly sweet tone.

“Mhm” he said not being able to get anything else out.

You bit your lip moving your ass more against his now fully hard cock. You could feel his body twitching under you. He didn’t want you to move away but he didn’t think he’d be able to stop himself from cumming in his pants either. You turned your head only to be graced with the sight of him. His face was red, eyes glazed over his lip a bit swollen from him biting on it. “I can help you with that you know” you said with a grin.

His eyes just blinked at you not knowing how to reply. “Want me to make you feel good Innie?” You asked. He only nodded a little making you tilt your head. “Tell me, use your words” you said.

“I- please m-make me feel g-good” he stuttered out.

“Such a good boy” you said before moving off of him. You knelt down between his thighs pulling down his pants and boxers slightly enough to let his cock spring out. His fists were gripping the chair hard, eyes closed tightly shut.

You took his cock in your hand making him let out a soft moan at the contact. You smiled before licking up his cock rewarding you with another sweet moan. “Look at me innie” you said. His eyes slowly opening, the sight he had made his cock twitch in your grasp. While he still had his eyes on you, you quickly took him in your mouth. Slowly moving yourself over him eyes glued to his. He let out such a desperate moan as he watched you. You bobbed your head trying to keep a slower pace, your tongue swirling around his length.

“Ah- y-y/n” he moaned. His hands came up to grip your head however they just hovered over it. Scared to do something that would make you stop.

“Innie do what you feel comfortable doing” you said before reaching yourself to him.

His hands found their way to your head softly holding onto it like he’d brake you or something. He bucked his hips up into your mouth eyes fluttering at the feeling. “C-can’t I’m-“ he whined bucking his hips one more time before cumming hard back your throat. A long guttural moan left his lips as his body shook. You pulled away licking your lips eyes still glued to him.

“Didn’t think a sweet guy like you would fuck my face so well” you said with a smirk.

He was panting trying to catch his breath, when he looked down at you again his cock twitched. Your lips were swollen, eyes a bit teary and glassed over. When you stood up he watched you intently “wait- what uhm what about you?” He asked softly.

“What about me?” You said.

“I- uhm- do you want me to- h-help you?” He stuttered out.

“You wanna help me hm?” You smirked.

He nodded his eyes looking like a puppy trying to beg. “Alright come here” you said bringing him to your bed. You laid down pulling your pants down with your panties. Jeongins mouth dropped at the sight of you. He’s only ever seen a naked women through online videos it was even more jaw dropping that it was you who he was looking at. You gave him a small lesson on where to touch a girl and where it’ll make her feel good. He nodded taking in all your words like it was a class.

When he kneeled down between your legs looking up at you he felt his legs shake. He slowly leaned into you licking slowly up your folds as a test. Your words swirled in his head of what to do and as the good student he was he listened. He took your clit in his mouth sucking softly when he heard you moan he groaned back. You could see he was moving his hips against the bed trying to create some friction for himself. “Gonna be a good boy and make me cum innie?” You said with a sweet honey voice.

There it was that word again ‘good boy’ it was making his head all foggy. He wanted to be your good boy wanted to make you feel as good as you made him feel. He brought his long pretty hand up to your cunt slowly pushing a finger into you. The warmth that engulfed him made his cock somehow even harder. The taste of you was driving him even crazier. He lapped at your cunt like some dog pushing his fingers in and out of you. “Just like that, you’re doing so well- ah-“ you moaned out.

His eyes rolled back it was like some light bulb went off in his head he started to move his fingers faster curling them inside you. His lips sucked and nibbled at your nub. He wasn’t ready for what was about to happen though, your legs clamping around his head as loud moans left your mouth. “Shit- innie- I’m- fuck- cumming!” You moaned grabbing onto his hair moving your hips against his mouth as you chased your high.

You moaned out tasting every thing you gave him, he licked you clean. He moaned out loudly only to be muffled by your thighs. He bucked his hips again cumming in his pants. He looked up at you with those same almost puppy eyes, you smiled at him “you did good innie, such a good boy” you said pulling him up to you. You kissed his forehead softly holding him tightly to you.

—

The next couple days were a bit busy for the both of you only seeing one another in class while exams were going on. You two sat back in the back in class going over your project. Your hand resting on his thigh. A grin grew across your face feeling his cock already getting hard. You looked around knowing no one was even paying attention. Your hand brushed over his cock making him jump. You leaned into him a little before whispering into his ear “you’ve been working so hard, let me make you feel good hmm? Just gotta be a good boy and stay quiet, can you do that for me?” You asked.

He nodded, your hand dipped into his sweats slowly stroking him. He gripped onto the desk hard knuckles turning white. You kept your eyes on the paper asking him questions about it. He tried his best to answer it all coming out as a mumbled mess. Your fingers pressed against his tip hand speeding up. You could feel his cock twitch in your hand knowing he was already so close. “Tell me when you’re close hm?” You said softly. He nodded once more biting his lip harder.

Your hand gripped around him moving up and down faster than slower paying extra attention to his leaking tip. “Y/n-“ he said softly hand coming down to your wrist. You looked around once more before leaning your head down. His eyes went wide when he felt your mouth around his cock. Hand came to the back of your head pushing you the whole way down his length. His cum shot back your throat, you could feel his legs shaking from his orgasm.

When you finally pulled away licking your lips you smiled at his dazed over eyes. “Such a good boy, you did so so well” you said. He smiled at your words leaning into you more. He wanted nothing more than to cuddle up against you like last time.

Another day went by when you got a surprising text from him.

Him: Y/n are you busy?

You: No why what’s up?

Him: I uhm can you help me?

You: were you at?

Him: In the bathroom by room 235

You didn’t text back already on your way down to him. You smirked to yourself that he was reaching out for help. When you opened the door to the bathroom you softly said his name. He peaked out from one of the stalls his eyes looking at you like some sad animal. You quickly made your way to him you could already see how hard he was. “What’s wrong innie” you asked.

“I- I couldn’t stop thinking about the other day- please I-“ he whimpered out.

“What do you want me to do for you?” You asked.

He fiddled with his shirt not looking at you “come on baby, be a good boy and use your words” you said.

“Please I can’t cum with out you-“ he choked out. “Help me- I-“

You would have made him beg more but he looked utterly pathetic already. “Ok baby I got you, let me take care of you yeah?” You said getting down on your knees. You unzipped his pants pulling them down with his boxers. He was so hard it looked like it hurt. You wasted no time wrapping your mouth around him. You swirled your tongue around his cock looking up at how wrecked he already was. You pulled away pumping him with your hand “my sweet boy has become so dirty hasn’t he?”

He shook his head “I’m- I’m not-“ you whinnied out.

“No? So you didn’t text me to come suck you off in the bathroom?”

“I- m’sorry” he whinnied more.

“Such a dirty little boy hmm? Can’t get off by yourself anymore need to- to fuck my mouth just to get off?”

He whimpered “y-yes” he said truthfully.

“Then use my mouth to get yourself off” you said wrapping your mouth back around him but not moving.

He looked down at you eyes filled with tears he grabbed at your head pushing his cock back your throat. “Y/n” he whimpered out I’m already so close” he said head falling back. He pushed in your mouth a few more times his grip holding you in place. He was fucking your mouth like a flesh light. “C-cumming!” He moaned out a familiar warm liquid shooting back your throat. When he pulled out his eyes were glued to you. “Y/n I- wanna make you feel good again please- I need to- to- t-taste you again” he begged.

“Innie wants to eat me out hmm? How bad baby tell me how much you want too” you said.

“So bad, so fucking bad please- please I’ll make you cum like a good boy” he whinnied.

“Mm such a dirty mouth you’ve gotten, let’s put it to use yeah?”

He smiled he pulled your pants and panties down hosting you up against the stall. You were taken back by his surprising strength he had. He wasted no time diving straight into you. He lapped at your folds his tongue darting into your wet cunt, His nose rubbing against your clit. You grabbed onto his hair for some stability only making him moan into your cunt. “You like when I use your face hm? I bet you like it when I pull your hair too- such a dirty boy. You’ve become such a little whore” you said dripping at his hair harder.

His mind went blank his cock twitching already so hard again. He ate you out like a starved man. Nipping at your clit before somehow letting one of his arms go. He pushed his fingers deep into you curling them perfectly. “J-just wanna make you feel good” he said. “Wanna be- be your good boy” he continued. He sucked harsher at your clit your walls tightening around his fingers.

“Shit- innie-“ you moaned out “don’t stop- fuck I’m gonna cum!” You said. He listened, he didn’t stop he in fact took a mental note of what he was doing. When you finally came you came hard against his lips body shaking against the stall wall. To your surprise he came with you, untouched for his second orgasm. He let you down stumbling back a bit. His legs felt weak his body shaking. You wrapped your arms around him kissing his cheek softly “you did so well you know that? You’re such a good boy innie” You said. Making him relax a bit. He cuddled up to you holding tightly like you would run if he didn’t.

—

Today was the day to present your project, both of you were super nervous. However it went over really well. The teacher was really impressed even more so as he listened to jeongin talk. He was happy to see him out of his shell more than ever.

When you both got the grade back smiling wide at the big A+ you got, you hugged him tightly. He was taken back a bit, you were hugging him so openly he was just surprised you didn’t care that people saw. “Innie how about we celebrate today! I’ll order something and we can celebrate at my place yeah?” You said excitedly. Of course he nodded feeling excited too. He was just happy to see you so happy.

—

When jeongin knocked on your door he was greeted with you in an oversized shirt with nothing else on. His jaw dropped at the sight of you. You hugged him again pulling him into the apartment. “I’m so proud of you!” You said. “You talked so well in-front of everyone!”

“It was- easier.. you know having you up there with me” he said shyly.

Your heart melted at his words “yeah? Well innie I got a special surprise for you!” You said pulling him into your room. There was a box sitting on the bed with his name on it. “Just a little something to tell you I’m proud of you, it was actually gonna be a birthday present but- I think you deserve it now.” You said excitedly. When he unwrapped it he almost cried, it was a new headset he showed you before. There was also another small box in it. When he pulled it out he felt his chest tighten. It was a small necklace with the first letter of your name on it.

When he looked up at you he could see a small blush peppering your face. He felt all shy again like the women of his dream didn’t just basically ask him to be hers. He smiled putting it on right away before coming to hug you. In the moment he didn’t even realize before he pressed his lips to yours. He kissed you lovingly his heart pounding in his chest.

The kiss caught you by surprise but you couldn’t help but feel yourself melting at his touch. You moved yourself walking backwards to find the bed. You kissed him one last time before pushing him to the bed. It didn’t take long for you to be onto of him again lips pressed against one another. The kiss was more hungry this time more desperate. You grinned your hips into his already hardened cock making you both moan into the kiss. You quickly pulled away ridding yourself of your shirt. His eyes went big never seeing you fully naked before. His hands quickly grabbed ahold of your chest. He rolled his hips to meet your movements making you both moan in unison.

“Innie take your pants off for me?” You asked. He quickly did so pulling them down fast. You rolled your hips against him once more his cock pressing against your cunt. You yourself couldn’t take it anymore you needed to feel him inside you. You moved your body back holding onto the shaft of his cock before slowly sinking yourself down. It almost looked like his soul was pulled from him his breathing almost stopping. The warmth of your walls was too much for him.

“You ok if I move baby?” You asked softly.

“Y-yes” he mustered up.

You moved your hips sinking down fully into him. His hands gripped at your thighs digging in harshly. Your walls were clenching so tightly around him, the sight before him was not helping his situation. He watched as your perfect breast bounced with every movement. Your face contorting in pleasure and the sweet moans that left your lips. Oh man was he a goner. “Y/n! Stop I’m gonna cum!” You almost screamed out. But you didn’t care you kept moving, faster even.

You felt his cock twitch inside you cumming deep into you. His hot cum coating every part of your insides. You didn’t even notice your own orgasm creeping up on you until you were cumming from the sensation.

There was a moment of you both breathing until you felt yourself being hoisted up and pushed back down on the bed. “I- fuck- y/n I’m sorry- please I-“ he whimpered out. His cock already rock hard again. He pushed into you once more this time moving fast. He felt the warm cum around him letting him slide in and out with ease. “T’good- can’t- can’t stop- m’sorry” he groaned. He was fucking you as if he’d done it a million times. His pace perfect hitting all your sweet spot.

“Ah- innie- you’re such a dirty boy- ah- ah- fucking me again without even asking” you teased.

“M’sorry-“ he whimpered.

“I feel that good hm?” You said.

“Fuck- yes- feel good- s’good- can- can I cum inside again? Please please I’ll be good and make you cum again too” he begged.

“Be a good boy and make me cum first” you said.

He was on a mission after that his hand coming down to play with your clit. It really backfired on him though as your cunt clenched around him so tightly. “Fuck- fuck” he moaned out before he realized he was cumming again.

“M’sorry- m’so sorry” he cried out his head coming to rest in the crook of your neck. Even after cumming twice he was still so damn hard. He rocked his hips into you so overstimulated but he needed to make you cum.

He gripped at your thighs pushing them up, he fucked into you harder pushing his cock to the hilt. “Jeongin! Your- fuck your so deep!” You moaned out.

“Your- your not mad at me for cuming again?” He asked.

“It’s ok baby, fuck- you’re still my good boy” you said softly against his ear.

He moved back looking down at you “n-no not a good boy till- till I make you cum-“ his hand came down to play with your clit once more fucking into you like he almost hated you. His movements were sloppy but rough. You felt your high at its braking point watching as he fucked into you until the necklace caught your eye. Fuck- seeing the necklace knowing he was fully yours pushed you over the edge. You came hard around his cock pulling him down to kiss you as you swallowed each others moans. He came for a third time his body shaking like crazy against yours.

As you both calmed down a bit you kissed him softly “did such a good job- always be my good boy” you said softly.

“Your good boy” he said just as softly.

“Yes, you’re my. Good boy.” You said with a smile “if that’s ok with you? To be mine?” You asked.

“Like- like your boyfriend?” He said looking up at you with puppy eyes.

“Yes, silly” you smiled.

“of course! Yes yes! I’d love to be!” He said happily.

“Then it’s settled. You’re all mine. And you know what that means?” You asked.

“What?” He said.

“I’m all yours too!” You said making him smile even more. He kissed you softly cuddling up into you. “All mine” he said in almost a whisper before slowly falling asleep.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

Taglist: @satosugu4l @do-you-remember-summer-127 @xines16 @minh0scat @troublemaker02 @tr-mha-fan @lunearta @velvetmoonlght @minghaosimp @ldysmfrst @felixleftchickennugget

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kairawrites · 7 months ago

Text

shea butter.

🌺 masterlist 🌺

pairing: jude bellingham x reader

a/n: for all my fellow natural girlies. there's a slight mention of sex, you'll miss it if you squint.

summary: jude could do his own hair, but why do that when he has you?

The clippers hummed quietly in your hand as you focused intently on lining up Jude’s hair. The soft, melodic sound of Sade floated through the room, the sounds of her voice seemed to make time slow down and the outside world felt miles away. You hummed along quietly, barely conscious of it, your voice rising and falling with the rhythm of the music.

Jude sat on your accent chair, the plush upholstery sinking slightly beneath his weight as he leaned back, his broad frame clad only in a pair of grey sweatpants that hung low on his hips. A towel, hastily draped over his shoulders as a makeshift cape, protected his bare chest from the stray clippings of his hair.

His legs were parted just enough to make space for you to stand between them, your body close enough for him to feel the warmth radiating from you. His half-lidded eyes, still heavy from sleep, followed your every movement as you worked. The corner of his lips turned up in a lazy, contented smile as he listened to you hum softly. He knew the melody would be stuck in his head the moment he had to leave for the airport in the morning.

The fingers of his left hand are warm against your outer thigh. Gentle as they lightly retrace the same pattern over and over. He watched as your face took on that look of deep concentration he had come to love—your brow furrowing slightly, lips pressed into a soft line as you meticulously moved the clippers along his hairline. The way your lips parted ever so slightly when you leaned in closer, studying each angle, made his chest tighten with a familiar warmth.

Your lashes fluttered with every blink, and Jude marveled at how you managed to look so peaceful and yet so focused all at once. Your eyes, usually bright with humor, were now narrowed, intent on perfecting every detail. The faintest hint of a smile tugged at the corners of your lips as the music shifted into a familiar tune, and you began to hum a little louder, Jude's fingers swirling to the beat.

Jude loved Sundays—at least, Sundays with you. With you, Sundays were peaceful. The morning was always dedicated to wash days, a ritual he had grown to love as much as you did. He would wake up to the sound of running water and the faint scent of your hair products lingering in the air, instantly bringing a sense of calm over him. He loved watching you go through your routine, the way you treated your curls with so much love and care, making him crave that same tenderness for himself. Which is why doing his hair had become embedded in your routine.

He was typically alongside you, resting on the edge of the vanity or standing nearby, his curious eyes studying the bottles of creams, oils, and conditioners you carefully selected. You’d catch him reaching for them, his hands inspecting the labels as if trying to decipher their secrets. Not sure why his hair only came out perfect when you used them. You loved that he wanted to be a part of it—so you’d often pass him a bottle, letting him unscrew the lids and hold the products just to make him feel included.

He would lift them to his nose, inhaling deeply, his face lighting up as he absorbed the subtle fragrances of coconut, honey, shea butter, and vanilla. “Smells like you,” he’d say, grinning. And you’d smile back, your heart swelling at how even the simplest things about you had become a comfort to him.

When it came time to detangle your curls, he was always eager to help, his hands gentle but sure as he ran them through your damp hair. He loved the feel of your curls, the softness that slipped between his fingers, the way your head would tilt just slightly, trusting him with something so personal. It was a quiet kind of intimacy—one that didn’t require words but was steeped in care. The kind of closeness he found himself craving whenever he was away, the moments he would replay in his mind on long nights spent traveling from one match to the next.

That’s why, when Jude woke up this morning and realized he had slept half the day away, he cursed himself for missing that precious time with you. Especially being as he had to leave in the morning. Sundays with you meant more than just relaxation; they were filled with the kind of connection that grounded him, that made him feel like just a man in love, far from the pressures and chaos of his world outside..

Although he’d missed your routine, he’d let out a sigh of relief when you had dragged him out of bed and to your chair.

Your hair, still damp from your wash day, framed your face in loose curls that bounced gently with your movements.

You leaned in closer, your hand gently cradling his jaw, your fingers just barely brushing the line of his jaw--a subtle reminder to stay still.

His gaze drifted over the curve of your lips, and he found himself smiling as he watched you quietly mouthing the lyrics to the song. You weren’t singing aloud, just quietly to yourself, as if the music had wrapped itself around you, pulling you further into the moment. Jude didn’t dare move, afraid to break the spell that had settled over the room.

"Almost done," you murmured under your breath, not even fully aware that you had spoken.

He could have closed his eyes and drifted off, lulled by the warmth of the room, the soothing music, and the gentle hum of your voice. But he didn’t want to miss this—didn’t want to miss watching you in this space where he was completely at ease.

Jude’s voice was soft when he finally spoke, breaking the gentle silence. “You look so beautiful when you concentrate, you know that?”

Your eyes flickered up to meet his, surprised by the sudden compliment, a soft smile tugging at your lips. Your hands gently brush his shoulders to dust off stray hairs. "Sorry, Mr. Bellingham, I don’t accept compliments as payment," you teased, tilting your head with a playful glint in your eyes.

Jude’s laugh bubbled up, still thick with the remnants of sleep, the sound low and warm like a gentle rumble from his chest. It was the kind of laugh that made you want to curl back into bed with him. “Oh yeah?” he asked, his voice soft and teasing as he looked up at you, eyebrows raised. “What do you accept then?”

You grinned, biting your lip for a moment as you pretended to think. Letting your touch pass over his jaw, you smiled as his lips warmed your palm. “Kisses,” you said simply.

Jude didn’t miss a beat, his grin widening as he reached for you, his fingers slipping around your waist, pulling you closer to him. "Got plenty of those," he murmured as he pressed a kiss to your stomach, his lips warm through the fabric of his sweatshirt that you wore. He placed a kiss against your chest, your neck before your cheek.

Your fingers curled into his hair as you laughed softly. "Better start paying up then," you whispered, leaning down to meet his lips with yours, the kiss soft and lingering. Your lips left his, him releasing an unsatisfied groan of protest.

“We need to finish this,” you giggle, lips pressing against the bridge of his nose, before stepping back.

Jude’s eyes followed you as you moved, every part of him attuned to the way the soft fabric of his favorite sweatshirt shifted over your frame. The deep navy of the worn cotton contrasted perfectly against your skin, and though it hung loosely on you, it couldn’t hide the subtle movements of your body beneath. His gaze trailed from the hem brushing your thighs to the gentle sway of your hips, making it impossible for him to look away.

As you reached the vanity to place the clippers down, he took the opportunity to shift forward. His hands found your waist, pressing gently into the fabric, the warmth of his touch radiating through the sweatshirt. It was a familiar gesture, one that always made you feel anchored to him. You turned to face him, done gathering the items you needed to finish his hair, but Jude had other ideas.

With a gentle but insistent tug, he guided you back toward him, his eyes locking onto yours.

“You can finish the rest here,” he mumbled. His arms slipped around your waist, drawing you down onto his lap. You settled into the familiar space, the weight of his hands steady and comforting against your hips.

“As long as you promise to behave,” the half hearted warning prompting your boyfriend’s touch to slip from beneath your sweatshirt.

Settling back against the seat, Jude murmured, “Always making me look better than anyone else could.”

You rolled your eyes at his flattery, your lips curving into a smile. “Your barber might disagree,” you teased lightly, though you knew the way he looked at you said far more than just appreciation for your skills with clippers.

Jude's eyes softened, his gaze never leaving your face as he replied, “No one takes the time and care like you do.” His hands slid up your thigh, his thumb tracing slow, lazy circles over your skin, sending a warm shiver through you.

Leaning in, you pressed a soft kiss to his lips. "Better let me finish then," you whispered, smiling against his mouth before pulling back. “Can’t have your fans coming for me if I mess you up.”

You lifted the spray bottle and began dampening his hair, your fingers working through his soft curls with practiced ease. Jude’s hands, however, had a mind of their own. They roamed gently over your legs, his fingers grazing the smooth skin of your thighs. He couldn’t seem to stop touching you, each stroke of his hands filled with lazy admiration.

As you focused, Jude’s hands eventually slipped beneath the hem of the sweatshirt, brushing over the small of your back. The light pressure of his touch made you sigh softly, the warmth of his hands seeping into your skin. His hands moved slowly, rhythmically, as though he were tracing a map only he could read.

“Jude,” you murmured, your voice laced with playful exasperation as you continued working on his hair. “You’re distracting me.”

His low chuckle vibrated through the space between you. “Can’t help it,” he murmured, his lips brushing your wrist in a gentle kiss as his hands wandered up your thighs again. “You’re just so soft.”

You bit your lip to suppress a smile, lowering the spray bottle as you combed your fingers through his curls. “You say that every time.”

“That’s because it’s true,” he countered, capitalizing on the pause in your actions. His fingers drew slow, lazy patterns across your lower back. “I still don’t know how you’re always so soft,” he murmured, his hands moving to cradle your hips.

You tried to focus on the task at hand, but his hands made it nearly impossible. As your fingers moved through his damp curls, Jude’s touch drifted lower, cupping the backs of your thighs, his grip firm yet tender. The sensation sent a pleasant warmth through you, and when his hands finally squeezed the soft flesh of your butt, you couldn’t help but shift forward in his lap. You caught sight of his smirk as you instinctively shifted against him, the feel of him against you causing you to repeat the action.

“Jude,” you began again, only this time you’re unable to complete the sentence.

He hummed in response, his hands repeating the action, enjoying the way you moved in response to his touch. His grip tightened, encouraging you to grind against him, shifting his hips as your eyes fluttered close. “Hmm?” His voice was light, but the mischief in his eyes as he pulled back made it clear he knew exactly what he was doing.

"Mind your hands," you warned.

Jude’s lips curled into a smile, but he obediently kept his hands in place as you leaned back to retrieve the curl cream from the vanity. "I’m not doing anything," he teased, as he unscrewed the lid for you.

He was right. You should be able to resist him, but you can't. Not when the heat of his body is this close. Not when you can feel him pressing against you, the thin fabric of his sweatpants and your underwear separating you allowing you to feel exactly where his mind was headed. Not when his hands are kneading your skin, the motion hypnotic and tempting. Not when he leaned forward slightly, the moment you gathered the product in your hand, brushing his lips against your wrist as you began to work the cream into his hair.

You sighed, trying to suppress the flutter in your chest as his kisses moved lazily from your wrist up the inside of your arm. "Jude," you muttered, a mixture of amusement slipping into your tone. He knew what he was doing—distracting you, as always.

"Mmhmm?" he responded, his voice a soft murmur against your skin as he kissed a spot just above your elbow. “..you said watch my hands…”

Despite his affectionate distraction, you pressed on, determined to finish his hair. But Jude’s attention was unwavering—his lips now following a slow path up your arm, until he reached your shoulder. His mouth warm against your skin, tongue brushing against your skin before he gently began to against your neck. The position was not helpful, but you both knew you wouldn’t move to stand.

You pulled back briefly to grab more product from the vanity, shaking your head with a smile that you couldn't hide. As you leaned back in, Jude took the opportunity to nuzzle his lips against your neck, his kisses soft and warm, teasing the sensitive skin there picking up where he'd left off.

“Jude,” you said again, a warning in your voice, though it lacked any real conviction. The rest of your words were lost, falling victim to the sigh that escaped as he found the spot he knew that could cloud your mind. His fingers digging into your skin as you instinctively shifted your hips.

He repeated the action, focusing solely on kissing and sucking your skin. The action covering your body in a familiar heat. It took all your concentration to stay focused on his hair rather than the way his hand shifted to rest against the base of your spine.

Your mind floods with memories of the last time you were in this position. You had meant to be doing his hair, but Jude's wandering hands and lips had made you abandon the task entirely. As you relax against him now, your hands momentarily still in his hair, a low chuckle escapes his lips, letting you know he’s thinking the exact same thing.

How easily it had been that morning to shift your weight to his right thigh. How your fingers had tightened in his hair, tugging against the curls you’d just tended to. How your hips allowed his hands to guide their movements. Him encouraging you to grind down on his thigh, until your body was a quivering mess your voice melding into the music, his lips and teeth dragging along the warmth of your shoulder and neck. How easily he'd slipped between your folds by the time he'd pulled you onto his lap. How the high you were chasing had forced you to accept his desire for you to ride him slowly. Submitting, allowing him guide your hips, welcoming the words he'd whispered against your skin. The orgasms he'd pulled from you that morning tugging at your mind each time you sat in that same chair when he was away.

"I’m just helping," he murmured, his voice low and teasing as he pressed another gentle kiss just beneath your ear, sending a rush of warmth through you.

"You’re not helping at all," you laughed softly. You were trying to sound firm, but his lips found that perfect spot again at the base of your neck, and you couldn’t help the quiet sigh that escaped your lips.

Jude’s hands remained planted firmly on your hips, just as you had instructed, but his lips—his lips had other plans. They moved with deliberate slowness, peppering kisses along the curve of your neck, your shoulder, your jaw.

“Just saving you time,” he mumbles. “No point in pretending how this’ll end.”

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head in mock disapproval even as a smile tugged at your lips. "You’re impossible, you know that?"

He grinned against your skin, his breath warm as he whispered, "I know," before placing one last kiss just below your jawline.

Your hands, slick with product, glide through Jude’s curls one last time before you wipe them clean on the towel draped over his shoulders. His dark eyes are locked on yours, and you catch the way his lips twitch upward in that familiar, mischievous smile. He knows exactly where this is headed.

With a soft thud, you let the towel fall to the floor, and before you can make a move, Jude’s arms are wrapped around your waist pulling you close. He tips his head back slightly as your hands instinctively find the nape of his neck, your fingers grazing over the warm skin there. His gaze flickers down to your lips, and for a moment, his forehead rests against yours, his breath warm and steady as it fans over your face.

Jude's nose brushes against yours, the softest of touches, and the space between you grows smaller until your lips meet in a kiss—gentle at first, tender and lingering. His lips hover there, but you can't help yourself. You lean into him, deepening the kiss, and the world around you fades.

tagging those who liked the post about this story. sorry it's late af.

@iicldkwhatimdoingheretbh @jareaulamontagnes @judes-baeeee @alexandraa-mondragonn @tana-mxx @whorefordeadpeople @redbulldoesntgiveyouwings @judespoets @deanbluntsupremacy @atlasthecreator @humanstheworld @sakaloverrr @justabrokensoulxd @preetykookiie @bbgkoo @anotimportantperson @bellinghamfc @certifiedlesbianbaddie @lilyislostinthelight @elisacarynia @abbieanthony20 @extrology467 @sinnerxxer @lanassiren444 @undercover-fangirl5 @judescorem @eriks-girl @calif0rnia-lovers @menacetosobr1ety

#jude bellingham x black reader #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham fanfic

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freaksun · 8 months ago

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eddie doesnt let anyone touch his hair. ever.

it reminds him of his late mother, who had the same gorgeous untamed curls. She used to comb his hair when he was little, being ever so gentle and taking her time brushing out the knots.

his father made him feel less-than for just about everything about him, including his gorgeous mane. Called him awful names and always told him to ‘cut that fairy shit’ when it grew too long.

so, ever since she passed, and his father went to jail, hes been growing it.

unfortunately, she never taught him how to take care of it, she’d always just do it herself. So, he doesnt put product in it, he doesnt cut it, he doesnt even brush it. And, stubborn as his mama, he doesnt let anyone else touch it either.

then you come along, happy and sweet, always loving to everyone. he falls in love with you so fast he hardly even notices. you certainly dont either.

one hot summer day you’re both in his room, you on his bed, him pacing, frantically explaining some sort of nerdy campaign idea. you dont know, you havent been listening for a while, too distracted by the way he keeps wiping sweat from the back of his neck. you cut him off rudely, he doesnt mind

“hey eddie?”

“sweetheart?”

“whens the last time you got a haircut?”

he freezes, silent, which is very out of character, dude never shuts up.

“uhh. like a few years ago. why?”

its your turn to be quiet, suddenly all coy. he finds you absolutely adorable as you stare at his floor, trying to find a way to ask him without startling him. as if he were some wild animal, which, he basically is.

“just.. immm noticinggg its kinda matted in the back…”

you try to sound the least accusing as you can. he doesnt seem offended but you can tell hes thinking.

“well, yeah, i. i guess i just havent touched it since. well my mom used to do it for me”

you feel like an ass, touching on something you shouldnt have, making him all quiet and sad. you backtrack.

“jesus, eddie, im sorry i didnt mean to-“

“its okay angel, i know”

he sits next to you. you give him a nervous smile, still sweet, hesitantly reaching for his curls. you can tell he’s hesitant too, but he nods, granting you permission. you take a single strand between your fingers, twirling it.

“Its so pretty, eds. ..would you let me? take care of it, i mean?”

hes scared. but youre so sweet and youre asking so nicely. a part of him is scared if he lets you, he loses another part of his mom. but the other part is staring into your eyes and seeing nothing but genuine affection.

“i.. i guess you could.. try.”

his heart pounds in his chest. You absolutely beam, thanking him immediately and bouncing around the room, looking for a brush. he laughs, shaking his head. you watch as he rummages through his closet, before handing you a light pink brush. you think about teasing him for it but he already looks vulnerable. you smile sweetly instead, taking it from him.

“sit” you point with the brush. he does as you say, running his hands up and down his thighs in a self soothing motion.

“its okay eds, you dont have to be nervous.. ill be gentle i promise” he gives you an unconvincing smile. you return with a guilty one, downturned. you kneel in front of him, in between his knees, brushing his bangs with your fingers.

“we can stop whenever you want, okay?” his cheeks are bright red as he nods timidly

you move to sit behind him, and run your hands through his curls gently, admiring it. you take a part, hold it at the root, and brush gently.

“that feel okay? tell me if it hurts” ever so sweet.

“mm-hm” you can feel his nervousness. “you- you remind me of her, y’know”

youre pretty taken aback, but honoured nonetheless. you keep brushing through the mattes in his hair as you talk.

“Yeah? Wanna tell be about her?” youre not sure if its the right thing to say, but you figure he probably hasnt talked about her in a long time. you can practically feel his energy shift.

“she was sweet. loving and kind to everyone, like you.” you both smile. “and she was pretty. beautiful. i really miss her.” you stop, rub his back a little.

“i can only imagine.. im sorry eddie.” he turns to face you, smiling.

“s’alright sweetheart. thanks for letting me talk about her” he hugs you. you hug him back, tight.

“hows the ole hair going?” He asks when he pulls back, a joking tone to lighten the mood.

“good!!! ive gotten the mattes outta this chunk here, it looks good. your hair is really beautiful, eds” youre ecstatic and it travels to him.

“thank you. my mom had the same hair.” he smiles, turning back around to let you continue.

“i bet she was really gorgeous.” youre extra-extra gentle. He keeps talking and you keep working. He tells you about how she smelled, the softness of her voice, his favourite memories with her. he tells you about the last time he saw her. he tells you all the things hes been holding inside, everything he never got to tell anyone, never trusted anyone enough. and when hes done, his hair is untangled and soft.

you smile proudly, running your hands through his hair, marveling at your work.

“its done” he whips around, looking at you with wide excited eyes

“really??” you nod, smiling wide. he runs over to the bathroom to see for himself. You stand behind him, peeking over his shoulder in the mirror. Hes surprised, looks like he might even cry. you wrap your arms around him, leaning your head against his arm.

“do you like it? Its a little poofy, but you can wash it out and it’ll look be-“ he cuts you off by turning around and hugging you. he hugs you tight, lifting you up.

“thank you.” you can tell he really means it.

#my fics #eddie munson x female reader #eddie the freak munson #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x gn!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #my fic #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson fluff #eddie my love <3 #my writing

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ccsainzleclerc5516 · 1 year ago

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Taking care of his girls (part 1)

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x reader (y/n)

Warnings: none

a/n: another girl dad Carlos because I just can't get enough

Y/N's pov

The newborn stage is extremely challenging. Sleep deprivation caused by countless sleepless nights, lack of energy, baby crying even though she ate half an hour ago, trying to figure out the cause of her crying, colic, baby not latching, painful feedings or lack of milk production - all that and much more comes when you step into motherhood. Trust me, it is exhausting both physically and mentally and anyone who says otherwise is lying!

However, not much is talked about how demanding and tiring and difficult it is when you are burning with a fever and can barely stand on your feet, and you have a two-year-old daughter who also has a flu and who, in addition to all of that, is a very stubborn daddy's little girl and doesn't really like to listen to anyone except her dad. That two-year-old is our little girl Bea. Bea is a very stubborn and smart girl who is very attached to her dad and loves spending time with him. She is completely enchanted by him and whenever Carlos returns home from the race, she does not separate from him.

We've only recently started taking her to the races, but since she tends to run around the paddock and starts screaming when it's time for Carlos to get in the car, we've decided that we won't be able to follow Carlos everywhere he goes.

This time we could not attend the Grand Prix in Italy for another reason, and that reason was because I caught a flu, which almost knocked me off my feet, and two days later Bea was burning with a fever as well.

Being alone with her while I was sick, doing all the housework, cooking and taking care of her was very difficult and exhausting. I was very worried about her because she had a high temperature, she was very weak, she didn't want to eat much, she was crying all the time and she just wanted me to hold her in my arms and cuddle her.

Carlos returned from Italy to our home in Madrid yesterday and we both couldn't wait to see him. When he came back I could finally breathe a little, sit down and rest because he decided to take care of both of us.

It was the same today, even though I felt a little better, Bea was still coughing a lot and her nose was blocked, so I decided to go to the pharmacy to get a children's inhaler. Carlos decided to stay with her and fulfill all her wishes, and today the wish was cuddling and watching cartoons in the living room.

It took me quite a long time to get to the pharmacy, make the purchase and get back home, so I only returned after 45 minutes. The sight that greeted me when I entered the living room brought tears to my eyes, but happy tears full of gratitude.

Bea was lying curled up on Carlos' chest, his arms wrapped around her as his head fell back against the back of the couch his lips slightly parted as both of them were fast asleep while Dora the explorer begged for help in the background. Carlos tied her hair into a small ponytail on top of her head while her baby hairs were messily sticking out. For a moment I just stood next to the couch and watched them smiling and thinking how did I get so lucky?

"Babe" I approach Carlos from the back of the couch and whisper into his ear. "Babe, wake up." It took him a minute to realize they had fallen asleep and to wake up.

"Ay dios mío.." You could also hear the tiredness in his voice because he didn't sleep at all last night. He demanded that I rest and that he would look after Bea overnight.

"Let's take her to bed okay?" I say quietly trying not to wake her up.

"What time is it?" He asks.

"It's only 7 p.m. I'll take care of her tonight, you get some sleep okay?" I say caressing his cheek.

"No, no I'll do it You still haven't fully recovered amor and I want you to." He says leaving a kiss on my thumb. Just as Carlos slowly straightened up from a semi-lying position on the couch, Bea startled and started crying.

"Shh cariño, no llores." (shh darling don't cry) Carlos immediately began gently shushing her and rubbing her back as I sat next to them.

"Do you want to go sleep in mommy and daddy's bed baby?" I asked her placing a kiss on her hand. She doesn't usually sleep with us, but when she is sick we always let her.

"No" She rubbed her eyes nervously, still crying and burrying her head into the crook of Carlos neck. "Papa, mama" She whined extending her little hand towards me, but not wanting to leave Carlos' embrace.

"Está bien mi amor, mamá y papá están aquí, no te preocupes." Carlos said tightening his grip around her with one arm and with the other pulling me closer to them.

We quickly gave up on trying to talk her into going to bed because we realized it would only upset her even more so we both decided to curl up to Carlos.

"Mis princesas." I leaned my head against his shoulder wrapping my arm around our little bean as Carlos kissed both of our foreheads.

Part 2 here

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myrleius · 14 days ago

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here, beside you — bakugo k.

bodyguard bakugo k. x rich fem!reader│word count: 3.8k

synopsis: Bakugo has been assigned by All Might to protect yn for two weeks.

notes: I used to be a Bakugo simp fan but I’ve moved on when I became a productive human being. Now that I’m reconnecting with my inner child, I thought why not write a tribute to one of my former husbandos. Also, haven't proofread this much since it's way past midnight here.

cw/tags: fluff, slight angst, hurt/comfort, cursing (duh, it’s Bakugo), happy ending

update: I made snippets for this! check it out

Two weeks and it’s almost over. In just a few more hours, Bakugo would finally be free from this damn babysitting job.

He glanced at the brat—yn—perched by the window, eyes fixed on the evening sky. She clutched the windowsill with her thin fingers, though not as frail as when he first got here. It wasn’t just her body. Her whole presence felt more alive. When he arrived, she had been quiet and dull, like a zombie. Now, there was color on her face and an annoying little smirk replaced her vacant stare. She was still a pain in the ass though.

Bakugo had been stuck guarding yn for two weeks. Her parents were off on some important, top-secret business, and for whatever reason, they didn’t trust the swarm of maids and guards in their oversized mansion to handle things. Something about an assassin? Bakugo had a hunch it had something to do with her quirk, but no one seemed to tell him anything. Every time he asked, he got the same answer: ‘Classified.’

Normally, he wouldn’t take a boring gig like this, but when All Might personally asked, he wasn’t about to say no. The former hero had been close with yn’s family and watched over her when needed–until retirement took him out of the job.

Yn herself was… weird. Locked up in this mansion like some fragile porcelain doll, yet she acted nothing like one. She was lively, chatty, always running her mouth, and for some damn reason, she made it her personal mission to get on his nerves. He’d barked at her, insulted her, told her to shut up a hundred times, but she never flinched. Instead, she pushed back. Teasing, pranking, laughing in his face like his temper was just some joke. He would’ve definitely blown her face off if it weren’t for the fact that she was his client’s daughter. But over time, he got used to her antics, realizing that it was easier to just roll with it instead of fighting back.

Not that he’d ever admit it, but he’d grown used to her. Maybe even… liked having her around if he was feeling generous. She was one of the few people who didn’t treat him like a walking explosion waiting to go off. She didn’t care about his temper, never hesitated to talk back. And somehow, despite never stepping outside these walls, she knew more about the world than most people he’d met. Their late-night talks had actually been interesting to him.

He sighed, slouching on the windowsill beside her, gaze flicking to her from the corner of his eye. Hard to believe this was the last night. After this, it was back to U.A., back to normal.

“... Hey,” he muttered, voice gruff but softer than usual. “Wanna see those fireworks?” He paused. “Outside.”

He knew the rules. Knew she wasn’t supposed to leave. But fuck the rules. He wasn’t about to let her rot in this cage without at least one real taste of freedom.

Yn’s head snapped to the side, eyes widening for a split second before narrowing with mischief.

“How mean, Bakugo-san,” she drawled, lips curling into a smirk. “You shouldn't raise a lady’s hopes like that. She might just hold on to your words.”

Bakugo arched a brow, unimpressed. “Oh, so now you’re a lady?” he scoffed. “And I’m not raising your damn hopes, princess. I’m just saying we can look.”

Yn cocked her head toward the window, feigning innocence. “Isn’t that what we’re already doing?”

He rolled his eyes and gave her shoulder a light shove. “I’m serious, dumbass.”

Her teasing expression faltered. She hesitated, fingers curling around the fabric of her nightgown like she was trying not to let herself believe it.

“... Really?” she whispered, her voice quieter than he’d ever heard it. “You’ll take me?”

A snort escaped Bakugo, the beginnings of a grudging smile tugging at his lips. He wanted to say something sarcastic, but the way her eyes sparkled made his chest tighten, the snark dying in his throat before it could even leave his mouth.

“Yeah.”

It was a simple word, but from the way her face lit up, it might as well have been everything. Her lips twitched into a smile. It was different from her usual smirks and smug grins. It was small. Real. … Kinda cute.

Not that he’d ever admit that.

Without thinking, he mirrored her smile, then extended his hand, palm up. “You in?”

She hesitated for only a moment before slipping her fingers into his.

“Okay. Just for a little while,” she said, drawing in a shaky breath, as if trying to keep herself grounded. But it was useless. Her feet were already bouncing with excitement. “So, how do we sneak out?”

“We’ll slip through the east wing. The guards are just about to switch.” He gave her hand a small squeeze before leading her toward the door, his voice low. “Just follow me and stay quiet. Don’t do anything stupid.”

She grinned. “Aye aye, captain.”

“Bakugo-san,” yn huffed, dragging her feet up the uneven slope. “How long are we going to keep going? Aren’t we far enough from the house already?”

Ahead of her, Bakugo barely looked winded, his pace steady as he surveyed their surroundings with a sharp eye. At her complaint, he shot her a smirk over his shoulder.

“What? Already tappin’ out?” His tone was laced with amusement, but despite his words, he slowed his steps, letting her catch up. “Quit whining. We’re almost there.”

Yn groaned, rubbing at her aching calves. “If we’re gonna watch the fireworks from this high up, we could’ve just stayed on the rooftop! I could’ve had Hana set up plush seats, warm blankets, maybe even… some snacks…”

She trailed off with a sharp inhale, her protests forgotten the moment she took in the sight before her.

The ridge opened up into a secluded clearing, set high above the city like a secret lookout point. Below, the town stretched in a sea of golden lights. And above it all, an endless expanse of stars, clear and unfiltered.

Bakugo barely had to look at her to know he’d won. His grin stretched wider. “Tch. That’s what I thought.”

And right on cue, the first firework streaked through the sky, bursting into red sparks that flickered against the dark. Its glow reflected in yn’s eyes, all bright, wide and adoring. To Bakugo, it was just another explosion. To her, it was something precious.

He tore his gaze away from her, shifting his eyes to the fireworks exploding across the sky. For the first time in a long while, his chest felt full. But not from the usual rush of victory or the burn of pushing himself past his limits.

It had always been about getting stronger, proving that he was the best. Meanwhile, the extras at U.A. wouldn’t shut up about "saving others" and "making them feel safe"—as if that crap mattered more than winning. He got it, sure, but he never really got it.

But now? Seeing her like this, giving her this moment, he understood.

It was about them.

The thought amused him. Maybe those nerds weren’t as full of shit as he thoug—

Bakugo stiffened. Something warm and soft brushed against his cheek. It was quick, almost as if it never happened, but the sensation lingered. That was the first thing he noticed. The second was that stupid expensive perfume she always wore. It was usually irritating, but somehow, tonight, it smelled sweeter. And then, the last thing—proximity. Too close.

Even as his brain processed it, another second passed before he caught up.

She kissed him.

On the damn cheek.

“Thank you.”

Her voice was softer than usual, laced with… something. Something that only made his thoughts spiral even faster.

Bakugo turned to her slowly, immediately hating the way his eyes automatically looked down to her lips before his entire face went up in flames. His hand shot up to rub at the spot where she kissed him.

“Wh-What the hell!?” he sputtered, voice rougher than intended. “You can’t just—You’re not supposed to—!”

A snort cut him off.

“Pfft!” yn doubled over, shoulders shaking as laughter spilled out. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes as she clutched her stomach. “Oh my god—what was that? Jeez, it’s like you’ve never felt the touch of a woman before.”

His glare was pure murder.

“Shut up, you little shit,” he grumbled, still rubbing at his cheek as if he could scrub the heat off. “You’re lucky I didn’t blast you on the spot for that.”

“Oh, lucky me,” she shot back, grinning.

Once the last of her giggles died down, she bumped his shoulder lightly, and for once, he didn’t flinch away. “Relax. I just wanted to thank you. It was completely platonic.”

His eyes narrowed, instantly suspicious, but he let it go.

“Weird way of showing it.”

Silence settled between them, thick like the lingering smoke from the fireworks. Bakugo barely spared her a glance, crossing his arms as he leaned back against the railing.

“Hey, Bakugo-san,” yn started, her voice quiet. “Can I… tell you something?”

“Tch. Ain’t you already talkin’?” he shot back, the words coming out more reflexively than anything.

To his surprise, she chuckled, shaking her head. But then she fell silent again, her gaze fixed on the fireworks. A bad feeling twisted in his gut. He recognized that hesitation. She was holding something in, debating whether to say it at all. And for some damn reason, he found himself actually waiting for her to speak instead of shutting the conversation down.

Just as he turned to snap at her to hurry it up, she finally spoke.

“Back then… I messed up.”

The words were soft, but the weight behind them was crushing. Bakugo’s sharp eyes flicked to her face, catching the small, melancholic smile tugging at her lips.

“My quirk lets me store an imprint of someone’s state at a specific moment and restore it later,” she continued. “At first, I thought it was just a healing quirk. I could only revert physical conditions, so it made sense. But then it mutated. It became more than just that. And I realized I could revert… other things. Important things—memories, growth, even a quirk’s natural evolution.”

Bakugo stiffened slightly. He hadn’t expected that. He suspected her quirk was a big deal, but this was something else.

Yn sucked in a shaky breath, clasping her hands like she was trying to hold herself together.

“My friend back then… she was bullied.” Her voice wavered, but she pushed forward. “I used my quirk on her constantly to heal her bruises. She didn’t want her parents to find out. But one day, some girls—” She swallowed hard, her breath hitching. “They shoved her into the street, and a car—”

She clamped a hand over her mouth, but a sob still broke through.

Bakugo’s chest tightened. He hated this. Seeing people cry, not knowing what the hell to do about it. His hand twitched, hesitating mid-air before curling into a fist. Would it be stupid if he—? No. He wasn’t the type to offer a shoulder or say empty words like ‘it’s okay.’ He never had been.

But damn it, seeing her like this made him feel useless.

She took a moment, fighting for control. When she finally spoke again, her head was lowered, her tears dripping onto her lap.

“I tried to save her,” she whispered, voice barely holding it together. “I reversed her body… but that’s all I imprinted. Her abilities, her memories… all of it was gone. She was just a hollow shell. A body with no soul.”

Bakugo’s jaw clenched. Shit.

“When the doctors checked, they confirmed it. Her mind was just… gone. Her parents were furious. And I—I understood why. I didn’t save her. I erased her. Their daughter was as good as dead because of me.”

His gut twisted uncomfortably. He wasn’t good at this emotional stuff, but understood guilt. He knew what it was like to carry the weight of your own screw-ups like a chain around your neck.

“I never went outside again after that,” yn admitted, letting out a bitter laugh. “I was too scared of what I might do. But that just made things worse. Once people found out about my quirk, villains started coming after me. They don’t see me as a person. Just a weapon. Someone who can create immortal fighters for them.”

She wiped her tears quickly, sniffling. Despite everything she had just said, she smiled.

“But then, I met All Might.” Her voice softened, her tone carrying hope. “With his injury from All For One, he asked me to use my quirk on him sometimes, just to stop the aftereffects from worsening. I was terrified. I mean, messing up with him could cost everything. But… he reassured me. Told me that no matter what I did, he wasn’t going to be the same anyway. That I wasn’t making things worse. I was just giving him a chance to keep going.”

Of course it was All Might. That damn old man had a way of getting people to believe in themselves, even when they were at their lowest.

“And it worked,” yn continued, looking down at her hands. “Again and again, I kept practicing on him. I still don’t have full control, but I understand it more now. Still… I’m afraid.” She stared at her palm, opening and closing it as if her power could slip through her fingers at any moment. “All Might says I should gain courage and use it for good. But what if I mess up again? What if I ruin someone else’s life?”

She let out a shaky breath. “I just… can’t do that again.”

Bakugo remembered that feeling. The one that ate at your gut, made you think you were better off staying away from everyone.

After Kamino, after All Might lost his power—he’d thought the same thing. That it was his fault. That maybe, if he just disappeared, people would be safer.

But he’d been wrong. Just like she was.

Bakugo exhaled sharply, rubbing the back of his neck. Then, after a beat, he muttered, “Tch. Ain’t like you’re the only one who’s ever screwed up.”

Yn blinked, glancing at him.

“You think you’re the only one who knows what it’s like to mess up?” His voice was gruff, but his words weren’t harsh. “To feel like no matter what you do, you’re just gonna make shit worse?”

He scoffed, shaking his head. “And what—sitting in a damn mansion forever is supposed to fix that? You think you’re just gonna wake up one day and suddenly not be afraid? That ain’t how it works, princess.”

Yn stared at him, eyes wide.

“You’re scared? Fine. So what?” He finally looked at her then, meeting her gaze head-on. “Be scared. But do it anyway. That’s the only way you’re ever gonna figure out what you can really do.”

She inhaled sharply, eyes shimmering under the glow of the fireworks.

Bakugo turned away, stuffing his hands in his pockets. Damn it. He wasn’t sure why he was saying all this shit now. Maybe because he saw a little of himself in her. Maybe he didn’t want to see someone else make the same mistakes he almost did.

A soft chuckle broke the silence.

“You… really suck at cheering people up,” yn said, her voice light with amusement.

Bakugo scowled. He parted his lips, ready to fire back with some sharp retort, when… he looked at her.

Her eyes were bright, the corners crinkling with warmth. The wind picked up slightly, brushing her hair back as if the moment itself was conspiring to make it more dramatic. And just as a white firework exploded above, illuminating her face, she smiled.

Really smiled.

“But thank you, Bakugo-san.”

His breath hitched. Shit.

Bakugo tore his gaze away, feeling his ears heat up. “D-Don’t mention it,” he grumbled, forcing his tone back to normal. “I just told the truth. You’ve got a quirk that could save lives, so start believing it can, idiot.”

She hummed, hugging her arms to herself. “Yeah, yeah. But still, I… needed to hear that.”

Silence fell between them again, but this time, there was something different about it. It wasn’t uncomfortable. It was charged.

Bakugo kept his eyes forward, but he could feel her staring at him. He clenched his jaw, resisting the urge to glance her way.

Then she moved.

Oh, no.

She stepped into his line of sight. He dodged it.

She stepped in again.

He dodged again.

Yn giggled. This was bad.

“You know what? I changed my mind,” she said, her voice turning playful. Then, before he could react, she latched onto his arm.

Bakugo tensed.

“The kiss earlier?” she said, grinning up at him. “Definitely wasn’t platonic.”

His brain short-circuited. Did she just—

His head snapped toward her, ready to yell, but that was a huge mistake. Her grin made his stomach twist. Shit, she was playing with him.

“The fuck!?” He stumbled back a step, yanking his arm free. “What kinda psycho shit—stop joking about that! It’s not funny!”

“I’m not joking though.”

“Yeah, and I’m a dumbass who’d actually believe that.”

Yn pouted. Fuck. That was actually cute.

“Look,” Bakugo huffed. “I ain’t getting with anyone, least of all you, you crazy bitch.” His tone was harsh, but the slight crack in his voice betrayed his flustered state.

“Eh? Why not?” yn pressed, unfazed. “You’ve got a pretty girl throwing herself at you. What’s not to love?”

Bakugo scoffed, the comeback rolling off his tongue automatically. “Pretty psychotic maybe. You’ve definitely got a screw loose from being stuck in that damn house.”

Yn threw her head back laughing, finally letting go of his arm. “Fine, fine.” But the glint in her eyes told him she wasn’t done. “But no matter what you say, I’m not giving up.”

“Tch. You’re actually insane.”

She took a step closer, standing on her tiptoes.

Bakugo stiffened. What now?

Then, she leaned in and whispered, “I’ll make you fall for me one way or another… darling. Oh, or would ‘dear’ be better?”

A shiver shot down his spine.

And his heart fucking betrayed him.

His body froze for a fraction of a second before his instincts kicked back in. He pulled himself away, scowling hard enough to burn holes in the ground.

“You’re fucking delusional,” he growled, rubbing the back of his neck aggressively. His skin felt hot. Why the hell was it so hot all of a sudden? “I’ll never fall for you, brat. Now, drop it before I blow your damn face off for real.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll drop it,” yn chuckled, hands up in surrender. But her shit-eating grin remained.

Bakugo narrowed his eyes. There was a catch.

“Only if… you say yes to a different request.”

His eye twitched. Knew it.

“I swear, if this is—”

“It’s completely safe and innocent. Trust me.”

Bakugo had a hard time believing that. “What?” he grumbled anyway.

Yn beamed, pulling out her phone and holding it up to him. “Be my friend?”

Bakugo stared at the glowing screen like she’d just asked him to detonate himself. “The hell kinda dumbass request is that?” he muttered, scowling.

Yn didn’t waver, still holding her phone up expectantly. “It’s not dumb. You’re my bodyguard, and I do like you, sure, but that doesn’t mean we can’t be friends too.” She tilted her head, her voice turning lighthearted. “Besides, it’s not like you have many, right?”

Bakugo clicked his tongue. “Tch. I’ve got friends.”

“Oh yeah?” yn grinned. “Name five.”

His scowl deepened. “Why the hell should I?”

“Because I wanna know if I should feel honored or worried that I might be the first.”

“Tch. Like I’d ever—” He cut himself off, suddenly feeling ridiculous for even engaging in this conversation.

With an annoyed grunt, he snatched the phone from her hand and swiftly typed in his number. He didn’t overthink it—just did it fast enough so that he wouldn’t have time to second-guess himself. Then, just as quickly, he shoved the phone back at her.

“There. Happy now?”

Yn’s eyes flickered with surprise before they softened. “Yeah,” she said quietly, looking down at the screen. “I am.”

For some stupid, inexplicable reason, something about that made his chest feel… weird. Uncomfortable. Like he had just agreed to something way bigger than just exchanging numbers.

He exhaled sharply, rolling his shoulders. “All right, enough of this crap. We’re going back.”

Yn blinked, snapping out of her amusement. “Huh? Already?”

“Yeah, already. We were never supposed to be out here in the first place,” he grumbled. “I��m not about to let you get kidnapped or some shit just ‘cause we snuck out for some damn fireworks.”

She pouted but didn’t argue. Instead, she slipped her phone into her pocket and took a few steps forward, spinning on her heel to face him with a teasing smile. “So you’re worried about me?”

Bakugou groaned. He can just never win against her, can he?

The job had ended, but yn and Bakugo kept in touch.

She made sure of it.

Every day, she texted Bakugo—sometimes about her day, sometimes asking about his, but mostly, she sent flirty messages just to mess with him. He never responded to those. Left on read every single time.

But yn knew better–it got to him.

That was why she never stopped.

She sent gifts, too. They were little things at first, just excuses to make him think of her. Then came the more… extravagant gestures. A top-tier protein set, the most high-end grenade-themed gloves she could get her hands on, oh, and on Valentine’s Day? A whole field of roses delivered straight to the doorstep of his dorm.

It wasn’t just to mess with him. It was also to make sure no other girl got any ideas.

This had been their dynamic for a year. A ridiculous, one-sided chase that she wasn’t planning to keep one-sided for much longer.

“Thank you again, Principal Nezu.” She bowed politely before stepping out of the office. The moment the door slid shut behind her, she bolted.

It was almost lunchtime, meaning classes were about to end. Meaning she was running out of time.

She flew down the stairs, skidding into a turn so sharp she nearly crashed into someone. But she didn’t slow down. She didn’t need to. She already knew exactly where she was going.

She had memorized every inch of U.A., studied it down to the last corner. She’d be walking these halls soon enough, starting next week. But really, all that preparation? It was for this exact moment.

The bell rang. Classroom doors slid open. Students flooded the halls.

And then… There!

A head of spiky blonde hair emerged from the crowd, moving in the exact direction she had predicted. Just like clockwork.

Her pulse kicked up. A grin tugged on her lips.

With quick, eager steps, she closed the distance, weaving effortlessly through the students until she was right behind him.

Then she jumped, hands shooting out to cover his eyes.

Woah. He got taller.

“Guess who?”

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