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madwomansapologist · 9 months ago

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──────〃✰ KINKTOBER DAY 1: 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐏 𝐏𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐑

title: poker face synopsis: luckily, mr. zero didn't knew you were a mugiwara. luckily, mr. zero fell for your bluffs. unfortunately, you never imagined it would be that hard to not fall for crocodile's charm. [3.1K] cw: mugiwara!fem!reader, strip poker, strip tease, public sex, cock crush, nipple stimulation, size difference, fingering (f!receiving), riding, biting, scratching, finger sucking, p in v, creampie, possessive behavior, mob boss meets a baddie, pussy so good he wonders about marriage.

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With a thick cigar between his teeth, Crocodile forced himself to smile. “Five of a kind”, he dropped his cards on the table. “Seems like the house won. Again.”

Crocodile’s presence in Rain Dinners works to reinforce his reputation as a hero in this wretched island. Unfortunately, it also means Crocodile is tormented by the most boring clientele.

To watch someone gambling everything they own out of delusional hope and losing it all because of sheer mischance is only interesting the first few hundreds of times. Now, all Crocodile feels is disdain.

He curses those vermin that stole the joy of victory.

Murmuring complaints, two bettors left the table. The croupier stretched his arm, reaching for the cards left far away from him. As the cards were shuffled, Crocodile took in the chance to observe the tables nearby. Searching for chaos to be dealt with, such a common occurrence in a casino, an unusual sight stole his attention.

A long, thick, light pelted fur coat. Crocodile inhaled the smoke, holding it in. Admiring you with that coat over your shoulders, no one would’ve imagined this is the middle of a desert. And still, you didn’t break a sweat.

One of the bettors decided it was the right moment to thank Crocodile for his protection over Alabasta. He did his best to sound modest, heroic. To embody the last hope of this dying island. The moment a white blur entered his peripheral vision, Crocodile simply ignored the man’s existence.

With a hand over the chair’s top rail, you stared directly at the croupier. “May I?”, you asked, voice sultry as the desert.

Crocodile took the cigar out of his mouth, releasing the smoke in the direction opposite from you. “Made just in time”, he moved his hand towards the croupier ready to start. “Do you know how to play, hon’?”

You took a sip from your glass, not bothering to answer him. Placing your coat over the chair’s rail, you reached inside its pocket and took the poker chip’s box. You left it open on the table, emerald dress moving on your body as you sat down and crossed your legs.

The box was filled to the brim.

Your lack of interest on him ignited something within Crocodile. Curiosity. Something far more interesting than gambling against weak bluffs. “New to poker?”, Crocodile smiled devilish. The sort of smile that make pretty women like you forget about decency.

If only you had looked at him.

“New to this island”, you answered, sounding as bored as Crocodile was before you got there. The way you danced around his question was enough for him to know you didn’t want the others to think of you as an easy target. Usually, Crocodile would simply profit on it. This time, with you staring straight into his eyes, he couldn’t care less about this game. “Is it worth?”

“It will be.”

A promise Crocodile intended to fulfill.

Feeling his gaze burning your skull, to not smile was never so difficult. If you were weaker, you would’ve laugh until your cheeks fell apart from your face. How funny. How alluring. Ah, Luffy really told you the truth.

Your life will be funnier around me, Luffy gave you the brightest smile you ever saw. Stroking your cheek, he cleaned the trace of tears. I will never let you get bored.

A Shichibukai stands before you, unable to see you as part of the threat he is so interest in dealing with. The man that sent thousands of bounty hunters after your crew, that forced Vivi to witness as unnecessary violence tore her nation in pieces, doesn’t even know that you’re part of the group he wants to exterminate.

Good. That means the plan of distracting Crocodile has a chance of working.

Each bettor made an initial contribution for the deal to start. At every round, you raised the amount of chips. It didn’t matter if others were dropping out of the deal or if Crocodile doubled the bet with no hesitance. You simply continued to bet more.

That was alluring. It told more about you than your pretty lips could. You’re not here to make money. You’re not here to waste it. You’re here for amusement. And that Crocodile can give you any time.

“Showdown”, the croupier called. “Please, bettors, show your hands.”

The woman sitting beside you sighed, showing two pairs. Two bettors had dropped out, choosing to wait until the next deal. You placed your cards on the table. 4, 3, K, 10, 10. One pair. “Does that mean anything?”

The first man to drop out chuckled. “Only that you lost.”

Lost in the way your smile spread across your face, the croupier had to remind Crocodile it was his time to show the cards. “Three of a kind”, he murmured. This time, he put no effort into acting as if he cared that he won. Crocodile just wanted to learn more about you. “Do you know the rules?”

“Does it really matter?”, your bright smile was enough to enlighten the whole place. As the croupier changed the card sets, you gave him your solely attention. “The best liar wins at the end.”

“No surprise you haven’t won yet”, Crocodile smirked. He spread his legs, cigar between his fingers. His golden hook glistened, reminding you of the threat he represented simply by breathing. “It’s so easy to see right through you.”

But not to see how I stole all those chips from you, was what you thought. “Seems like a failure of mine”, was what you said out loud.

With a movement of his hand, a waiter approached. Crocodile whispered into his ear; eyes still fixated on you. Intoxicated on his presence, you forgot to look away. What a tempting man. From then on, your glass never remained empty.

Deal after deal, you continued to lose just as Crocodile continued to win. Deal after deal, you continued to answer just as Crocodile continued to ask.

Until there were only you two left at the casino. You let go of your glass and closed the poker chip’s box, raising from the chair. “Should have expected a pirate to be a good gambler.” You took your coat, walking away from the table. “Have a good night, Crocodile.”

“One last deal?” Crocodile was quick to offer. Desperately, you would add. “And then we call it.”

You raised the empty box. “I have nothing left to bet.”

And at that, Crocodile saw his last chance of amusing you. “Then let’s bet everything we have.”

Sat down again, chin supported by your palm, you frowned. The wine had started to affect you both. “And by that you mean…”

“Everything”, Crocodile spread his legs, resting his hook on his thick thigh. You told yourself he was begging for you to stare, but you weren’t that sure of it. “Every chip on this table. Everything on our bodies.”

As he closed his mouth, a part of Crocodile feared his proposition would offend you. It doesn’t happen often, but there is a chance he misread your signals.

“I’ve been eyeing your rings since I sat here”, you wondered out loud. “Just as you been eyeing my dress.”

But to be so straight to the point… Crocodile wasn’t quite expecting that. It was what he wanted, but to see how you two were connected made harder for him to breath.

Then you sighed.

“As tempting as it is,” and you were standing again. Crocodile hated to see that. He would hate even more to see you leaving. “It is also getting late. Like I said, I’m new to this island.”

“You have nothing to fear”, Crocodile bargained. “Not when I’m around.”

“But you won’t be around on my way back to the hotel.”

“Then stay here”, he offered. You arched an eyebrow. “I don’t intent on letting you walk away that easily. I’m a pirate. I’m used to taking what I want for myself.”

For an eternity, you both stared into each other’s eyes. A silent negotiation. His final offering, your final chance of doing the right thing and walking away from danger. You could see his very soul. How it burned just beneath the surface. Crocodile felt the same heat coming from you.

The croupier forced a cough, remind you of his presence. It took much of his strength for Crocodile to not kill him right then and there.

“Shuffle the cards and leave”, you ordered.

He obeyed. Quickly. You both took a look at your cards sets. A smile died within you. A smirk grew on Crocodile��s face. The moment the croupier closed the exit door, Crocodile showed his hand.

Crocodile looked even bigger than he already was, filled with the confidence of a winner. “Four of a kind.”

Dropping your hand on the table, you were the winner he believed to be. “Royal flush”, you smiled. “Pretty sure that’s the highest since we’re not using any wild cards.”

Shock was a good look on Crocodile. After analyzing your cards, his gaze returned to you. “You said you didn’t know how to play.”

“Oh”, you drank the last sip from your glass. “Did I?”

And at your answer, all he could do was laugh. Crocodile ran his hand through his black hair. “You hustle me”, he whispered. Crocodile wasn’t able to get rid of this genuine smile.

Your laugh was real too. It made Crocodile breath in your scent, get drunk on the sweet sound coming from you. Not a bluff, not an act. It was real, and it only made you more beautiful. “And now you have a debt to pay.”

His face darkened, reminding you of who he is. You hustled Crocodile. You hustled Crocodile. You never thought of yourself as a stupid woman, but here you are. For fucks sake. Luffy really is rubbing on you.

Crocodile bended over the table, his broad shoulders creating a shadow over you. His hand grabbed your chair’s arm, his hook moving your chin upwards. A strand of hair fell in front of his orange eyes, and looking into them you felt like a powerless prey about to be ravished.

Face lurking inches above yours, Crocodile smiled devilish. A smile that made you forget about decency, focusing only on the promise of more of him. More of the man that wants to kill you. “Enjoy the show”, Crocodile whispered.

His blue scarf was the first to be throw away, and neither of you cared about where it would land. His long fingers worked on the buttons of the rumpled black-striped vest, so slowly you almost took it off of Crocodile by yourself.

The peach shirt beneath showed a portion of his wide chest and instead of finally getting rid of it, Crocodile held the leather belt around his waist.

He had so much fun teasing you, admiring how you couldn’t look away. A man as handsome must feel entitled to the silent praise. He really thought he was the one in charge, didn’t he? And for long enough, Crocodile was.

You’re a lot of things, but you’re not patient.

Leaning against the chair, you raised your leg. The silver heel brushed against his pants, from down on his ankle until the insides of his thigh. And when your painted nails shined right in front of his crotch, you forced your feet against it.

“Stop playing around.” Cocking your head, eyes explored his still covered up body. “Don’t make me wait.”

Crocodile grabbed your ankles, calloused hand stroking softly your skin. It wasn’t a rough touch, but not less possessive because of it. You put more pressure, making him groan. “You are insane.”

“And why is that?”

“Anyone else would fear me”, Crocodile’s voice reminded you of velvet and sharp knives. It lingered on your ears. “And here you are. Demanding more.”

You sighed, fingers brushing against your lips. That voice… it was your last straw. Fighting his hold, you put your foot down on the ground. You grabbed his shirt, pushing him back until Crocodile sat down on his chair again.

He opened his mouth as you sat down on his lap, but you gave him no time to do anything. “You talk too much.”

Holding the chair’s top rail as leverage, you dive into him. Tooth biting his lower lip, tongue forcing a passage into his warm mouth. Your free hand found a spot on his large neck, bringing Crocodile closer to you. Instead of waiting, you took what you wanted for yourself.

Just like a pirate would.

She isn’t fragile, Crocodile thought. She won’t break.

Sinking into you, Crocodile forgot about self-control. He simply ravished you, just like you demanded of him. A wild animal and nothing more. Exploring your mouth as if it was his to control, hand grabbing your soft skin without a care about finesse or decorum. Crocodile pressed his hook against your chest, enjoying how it didn’t stop you from moving as you wanted to.

You got him out of that stupidly tight shirt, hands scratching his chest as your hips moved on top of his crotch. He forced you down, putting your whole weight upon himself, and ripped your emerald dress into pieces with his hook.

“You’ll pay for this one.”

It was a complain, but your fingers working to unbutton his pants made clear you couldn’t care less. His kisses travelled to your neck, tongue leaving a trail of drool on your shoulder, mouth closing against your nipples. Your fingers intertwined with his hair, encouraging Crocodile to continue.

“I will get you anything you want”, he said, voice muffled. He couldn’t get away from your body to speak. “You burn hotter than the fuckin desert.”

No shame, no hesitation. Freed from his pants, you licked your palm before grabbing his cock. You pumped him with zero delicacy, thumb pressing against the dark, sensitive head. Just like everything in Crocodile, it was big enough to make you wonder.

As if he could read you mind, Crocodile slid his hand into your panties. Long fingers explored your lips, precise with every movement. Thumb pressing against your clit, two fingers against your wet slit. His hook brushed against your thigh, arm locking around you to press you down on his fingers.

Your loud moan embarrassed your very soul, but all Crocodile did was laugh. His teeth closed around your neck, biting hard enough to make you whimper. That’ll mark you for sure. “Ride me, hon’.”

With your nails deep into his back, you stretched yourself on Crocodile’s fingers. You bit his earlobe, brushing your face against his as you speed up your movements. In your hand, his cock throbbed. Crocodile was leaking, burning in the same way you do.

“Take what you want”, you whispered against his ear. “Fuck me already.”

It happened so quickly, you barely understood how he moved. A second before you were on his lap, two fingers deep into your hungry cunt, lips around his ear. Then you were sat on the table, poker chips falling on the floor, Crocodile standing between your legs.

A fucking monster.

Crocodile took his drenched fingers from you, and wasted no time before sucking them clean. He grabbed your thighs, exposing yourself from him. “She’s delicious”, Crocodile stared at your pussy. His fingers pulled your lips apart. “Will get me addicted to her.”

Using your legs, you got him even closer to you. Crocodile grabbed your hair, pulling you into a messy kiss. Fighting against your tongue, he fit the head of his cock into you. You moaned into his mouth.

Moving your heels against his thighs, you forced him inside of you. A stupid decision. Your head collapsed against his shoulder, the entirety of his length touching all the right places. So good, so right, so… much.

Crocodile wasn’t in that much of a better situation. Eyes closes tightly, lips hanging open as a deep cry escaped. So wet, so warm. Moving slowly, Crocodile chortled. He had no control over his mind anymore.

“Don’t you dare stopping”, you manage to say. “Just… fu-fuck, just like that.”

Deep thrusts as his fingers worked on your clit: Crocodile wouldn’t dream of doing anything other than you wanted. He could feel your drool gathering on his shoulder. How your fingers were deep into his forearms, or how the hold of your legs around his waist weakened.

All Crocodile wanted was to make you as addicted to him as he already was to you. To get you to scream his name, begging for more and more. He wanted you to take from him. To get what you wanted. And Crocodile wanted everything you could give him.

Feeling waves of pleasure washing over you, mind empty as a white canvas, you tilted your head back. Eyes half-open, you admired him. His raw lips, face covered in sweat. Marks of lipstick all over his chest, just as deep nail marks and surface scratched. You looked down, watching as he entered you.

“You are worth way more than eighty million.”

Crocodiled bended, tongue playing with your aching nipple. “After my head, hon’?”, he sucked on them. You stroked his hair, enjoying how primal Crocodile looked.

“Do I look insane?”, you moaned.

Crocodile looked into your eyes, face near yours. You placed your arms around his shoulders, but he held you in place. Crocodile simply looked at you. As if there was something new, something he never saw before.

“You do”, Crocodile whispered. It felt so intimate. For a moment, you weren’t being fucked in an empty casino. For a moment, you two were sharing a secret. “You’re perfect.”

You melted against him. Lost on your orgasm, you unlearned how to breath. The fact you couldn’t think didn’t stop Crocodile from kissing you. As you closed around him, Crocodile reached his limit. Tooth deep into your throat, he marked you again.

Tears formed behind your eyes, throat aching as you finally breathed again. You laid your head on his chest, feeling it rising with his unregulated breathes. A firm hand held your waist, his nose stopped in the union of your shoulder and neck. His biting hurt so good, just like your scratches on his skin.

When Crocodile opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was his hand holding onto the table. He looked at the fours rings you said caught your attention. And he saw how there was only one finger lacking a ring.

Insane, Crocodile thought. She’s making me insane.

As his hips moved away, a cry left your throat as he emptied your pussy, your legs finally stopped working. Crocodile took his cigar from the ashtray, smoking it for a few seconds. When he released the smoke, you grabbed his chin and made him face you. Inhaling it, you closed your eyes.

Not a second after you let it go, his hand and hook slid beneath your thighs. Effortlessly, Crocodile took you from the table. Your shaken legs closed around his waist as he carried you. “What you doing?”

Crocodile finally looked into your eyes again. He smiled, and it was genuinely. “Taking what I want for myself.”

taglist: @ffinosie @lovelyy-moonlight @alzaira @s2-angells @eyes-ofhell @inlovewithmariah @chiiyohiimee @shaquilles-0atmeal @bloodyziggy @salemey @kcch-ns @notanalienindisguiseblink

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sabxynsweet · 19 days ago

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sweetheart!reader and mattheo kiss !

You think you might die if you weren't already dead.

Mattheo Riddle was in your room sitting on the edge of your bed watching you pace around in front of him.

He was trying to evade detention and as a joke (more so evidence of your hopeless devotion), you offered for him to hide out in your dorm room and panicked when he agreed.

Now, here he was, observing your space. He looked a little out of place in the middle of your very "you" dorm room, it was almost comedic.

"So, umm," you started, "how was your charms test?" always going back to one of the classes you had in common when you ran out of things to say.

"It was alright. I got an O." He said with a smug smile peaking through.

"You're kidding! You were able to do the bonus question as well?" You ask.

Instead of replying, he grabs his wand from its place beside him on your bed and points it at the silver cardboard stars hanging around your room. With a flick of his wrist and a muttered spell, the stars begin to dance around the room, circling you.

You stare in wonder as they return to their places.

You look at him with what can only be described as hearts in your eyes. "You're so good at that." You say softly with a smile.

The way you looked at him, all enamoured, like he was a prodigy who happened to be good at spells instead of a riddle who was trained to be - that was his favourite thing about you.

"The weather's pretty outside." You blurt out suddenly, he looks at you with a tilt of his head.

There's a beat of silence broken by you falling into a fit of giggles.

His eyebrows raise. "What?"

"M'sorry, it's just so awkward." you say, still laughing, "I'm not this bad at conversation with anyone else, I promise. I think I just get nervous around you."

He stands suddenly, walking towards you slowly, "you get nervous around me?"

"Not in a bad way, I just get nervous in silence and you're - well, you know - quiet and so I feel like I have to fill it - the silence, I mean - and then I say something stupid and then I seem stupid." during your little monologue, he walked closer and closer to you until you were almost face to face, you tilted your face up to look at him.

"I don't think you're stupid." He says, with an amused smile on his face.

"That's... good." You look at him through wide eyes, the last word faltering a little.

"Your eyes get really wide a lot." He mumbles.

"Oh." You whisper.

"It's cute."

He gently puts his hand on the side of your face.

"Can I?" He murmurs but you cut him off quickly.

"Yes, please." You whisper.

He pulls you into a soft, cautious kiss. You feel dizzy.

Afterwards, when your brain wasn't fuzzy anymore you would probably feel sad because now you were on the long list of girls Mattheo had stolen the hearts of. You didn't want to be discarded. You wished so badly to be special.

You don’t think any of this at the moment, though, because one of his hands is cradling your face and the other occasionally brushes your hair away from your lips.

He pulls away for a moment, gazing at you with a softness you want to believe is reserved for you. You think you might love him. You stare into his eyes and you think maybe he could love you, too.

You kiss him again.

and welcome to the start of situationship!mattheo let’s hope it isn’t an angsty, painful ride!

taglist: @fallingwallsh @espressqe @theodoresvalentine

#mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle fanfic #mattheo riddle fanfiction #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle x sweetheart!reader #mattheo riddle

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ja3yun · 5 months ago

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Tie me in Ribbons | S.JY

sub!jake x dom!reader warnings: smut (mdni), oral (m. rec), unprotected sex, cream pie, sub!jake, edging, petnames (good boy, princess, baby), use of ribbons, choking, nipple play, praising, actually very cute, almost no plot at all, not proofread, anything else lmk! w.c: 12.2k synopsis: when jaeyun stumbles across one of your old diaries, he gets an inside look into your fantasies and decides it's time you explore them. a/n: hi! i have never written sub!enha before so please understand that it might not be great but bear with me <33 this was pure self indulgence and it won't be everyone's cuppa so feel free to skip! if you remeber love me tender, its kinda like the opposite of that! as always, comments, reblogs, and feedback is all welcome!

Jaeyun’s hands skim over the bedsheets for what feels like the umpteenth time, smoothing out creases that are barely there, his thoughts racing faster than his fingers. There’s a flutter in his chest that tilts between anxiety and excitement, and honestly, he’s uncertain which is winning.

Yesterday, while tidying up the shared apartment you moved into three years ago, Jaeyun stumbled upon something he never expected to find: the forbidden codes of your mind. Your old diary. It toppled from the top shelf of your wardrobe as he sifted through the pile of clothes that seemed to grow with every season. The impact stung as it bounced off his head, but the pain was forgotten the moment his eyes landed on the words scrawled prettily across the cover - Y/N of 2021.

Now, Jaeyun is always someone who respects your boundaries. Never has he snooped through your phone or done anything that would express distrust in you, because quite frankly, he trusts you with his entire chest.

Ever since the day he met you at university almost four years ago, he knew both of you were destined to be together until the end of time, his heart leapt straight into your chest and declared you his new home. It was love at first conversation for him. Your voice, your thoughts, your laughter - they wrapped around his soul like a warm embrace, claiming him entirely.

That diary, though - its pages whispered a possibility he couldn’t resist. It might hold the answer to the one question he’s carried since the day of dawn: Did you feel it too? That instant connection.

At first, he hesitated. But curiosity, paired with a need so tender it almost ached, won out. He flicked through its pages cautiously, skipping over pages that didn’t seem relevant to him. But even then, 70% of it turned out to be about him anyway. His breath caught in his throat with every mention of his name, every observation of his quirks, every confession of how your feelings bloom with each kiss. The remaining 30%? Literally just about the time before you met him.

You had noticed him, thought about him, written about him. You’d recorded every little moment, from your first awkward exchange to the way your heart betrayed you, beating faster in his presence. Reading those words was like holding your heart in his hands, fragile and real. It answered his question with a resounding yes. You did feel the same as him, from the very beginning.

But, as he was ready to close the diary, his heart full and his curiosity satisfied, something stopped him. A page adorned with pink hearts and misshaped bows, caught his eye…What’s one more page after sixty-four others?

August 23rd 2021.

Dear Diary,

Sim Jaeyun is sooooooo...I can’t put it into words. Every time I look at him, I want to wrap him up in pretty ribbons because he truly is a gift from the universe. Today, he met me outside of class and bought my usual lunch from Tesco - he even has a clubcard! (swoon!) And then he just spent time with me. It’s the bare minimum but I’m really enjoying having someone who loves being around me and taking the time to ask me silly questions which lead to deeper conversations. He’s perfect - and I don’t throw that word around lightly because literally nothing is perfect except maybe a cherry iced americano - which was also in his hand when he came to pick me up <33

He’s the best boyfriend ever. I’ve said it before to you, twenty times I guess by now, but I love him. I love being in love with him. I want to cherish him for the rest of my life, put pretty bows in his hair and call him my perfect boy. I want to kiss all over his chest and heart so he feels how much I adore him.

Between you and me, Diary, I had a sex dream about him last night. I came home from class and he was there, lying on my bed with ribbons all over his body. Ugh! He looked so good all I could do was pounce on him and fuck him until the cows came home. He was so needy and I was commanding and hot, and he loved it all. Of course, my alarm for today ruined it, but I don’t think it’s left my brain - or will - for the foreseeable.

I wonder if he would let me do all of that?

He’s not dominant but he definitely likes to take charge. I don’t mind that, fuck, I love it and I literally beg him to bend me over any chance we get. But wouldn’t it be fun to have him wriggling under me…to have his cock twitch because I’m teasing him. He might be into it, but we’ve also only been dating for 5 months so…maybe I’ll bring it up in a few years. Not like we won’t be together forever, right? There’s more time to look forward to.

You never know what the future holds, but I really hope it involves Jaeyun. Ribbons or not.

Anyway! I have to go to sleep; exam tomorrow :(( Speak tomorrow!

~ Y/N <33

The words he read had initially shocked him, then left him baffled, and finally sparked an idea so clever he’s spent the past few hours bringing it to life. He’s going to turn your fantasies into reality - ribbons, wriggling, and all.

He’s going to let you take control.

Is it risky, considering you wrote it four years ago? Maybe. But it could also end up being the most spectacular surprise he’s ever pulled off. Perhaps even better than the time he brought his family dog to meet you in the park after she’d been away in Australia for months - a day you still insist was the best of your life.

Your sex life is good, better than good, it’s smut on tumblr level good. You have ways to spice it up while also enjoying the familiarity of it all. The way Jaeyun pounds into you like he’s trying to break the bed in record time - and breaking the bed isn’t new for him, ask the sales rep at the bed centre who has made more commission from Jaeyun alone that he can afford to take his kids to Italy every year.

And yes, you wrote that he loves taking charge, which he can’t deny. The sheer bliss he feels when you moan his name, the delighted giggles you let out when he calls you his good girl, and those soft, shared whispers of I love you - all of it makes his heart soar. But why not shake things up at least once?

If he’d known you wanted to flip the script and take the reins, he would’ve jumped at the chance years ago. Not because he expects to enjoy being on the receiving end - though he might, the way his cock twitched at your written confession was a clear indicator - but because he’d do absolutely anything for you. If you asked him to pluck a star from the sky, he’d sign up for the NASA programme tomorrow, suit up, and bring back the brightest one he could find.

Jaeyun does one final sweep down the bed before huffing, glancing once more at the crisp pastel pink sheets that you insisted on buying. They will get wrecked as soon as you step over the flat’s threshold, so he doesn’t know why he’s so determined to make the bed look like it came straight out of a showroom.

But he knows why. The final piece of his plan involves the delicate, baby-pink ribbon he’d rushed out to buy this morning. After poring over an assortment of options - who knew ribbons came in so many varieties? - he’d settled on silk. It reminded him of that night after the university charity ball, when he tied you up with his sleek black tie, the one you’d been so complimentary about, both as a neckpiece and as a restraint. A smirk plays on his lips at the memory of that night, the way your breath hitched when his hands bound your wrists, how your eyes sparkled with mischief and trust.

He reaches into the bag, grabbing the ribbon as the softness of the material settles over his fingertips. Definitely a good choice. It’s pretty, and he has a sneaking suspicion that you’re going to lose your mind once you see him draped in it. Jaeyun can’t help but smile at the thought, a certain pride swelling in his chest, accompanied by a smirk that showcases a tint of confidence.

And if you don’t want to fuck him like you did in your diary, he’ll use the ribbons on you instead. He has always wanted to tie your hands to your legs and tease your clit until you’re a sobbing mess, bedsheets covered in your essence as he makes you cum again and again, pleads falling from your lips as he takes what he wants without giving you what you need…

Next time.

It’s this feeling of certainty that gets him stripping down until he’s naked, flicking each piece of clothing into the hamper that finds home in the corner of your room. He won’t be needing them after all of this anyway; you’re both not leaving the bed any time soon, that’s for sure.

The full-length mirror captures his reflection in the best light; the sunshine fluttering through the window kisses over his pretty, tanned skin. Jaeyun isn’t full of himself - humble to his core even when he doesn’t need to be - but right now he feels a little cocky. His stomach is toned from just enough gym sessions to make having a membership worth it, and his chest is still painted with faint claw marks from your last night of bed-bonking, your touch still engraved.

His gaze slides down, following his body's curves, and finally lands between his legs. His cock already hangs heavy and slightly hard, as if he knows what’s coming - or maybe it’s the unknown that has him bricking up.

He has always been proud of it, not just its size - though he will pat himself on the back - but the things it has done to you. The mess you make over it, how your juices honour it with each thrust and bounce. He's seen how your body reacts, how your eyes roll back as you take him, how your thighs tremble, and how your voice shakes as you moan his name. Sometimes, your pussy tries to push him out - too much, too soon you always say, but then he gets swallowed inside of you, lost as your walls welcome his impressive size. That makes him feel powerful.

But today is all about you feeling powerful.

So, he grabs his cock and squeezes it firmly. “It’s not about you today, okay?” Jaeyun begins, stroking slowly in warning rather than pleasure, speaking directly to his shaft. “It’s about our girl and what she wants.”

Jaeyun tilts his head as he feels his cock jump slightly at the mention of some planned fun, not getting the full memo. “Don’t get any ideas, mate,” he continues, tone amused but firm. “Don’t be fucking greedy and take over. And for the love of god don’t embarrass me by blowing the moment she calls you a good boy or whatever the fuck she’s going to say.”

Although he’s speaking directly to his cock, he is also saying it to himself. Talking to one head means talking to the other, or however the saying goes.

“She might tease,” he says, his grip loosening as he speaks more gently now, coaxing himself into the right mindset for the evening. “Fuck she might even be a little mean. But she doesn’t mean it, yeah? Let her have this. Let her do what she wants.”

Satisfied with his little one-sided conversation, he releases himself, taking one last glance at himself. There’s a flicker of something new in his features - a mix of anticipation and excitement. He feels ready. Speaking his thoughts out loud, to his cock no less, has somehow shifted his apprehension into eagerness, the idea of relinquishing control no longer unnerving but thrilling.

At the end of the day, this is for you. For your happiness. That’s what matters most to him, and always will.

Jaeyun starts with his chest, wrapping the ribbon carefully around him, the satin cool against the heat of his flushed skin. The first loop sits just above his nipples, taut enough to tease but not constrict, while the second layer falls just below them, framing his pecs with deliberance. With a quick tug and a messy knot at his back, he secures the binding in place.

Moving lower, he grabs another length of ribbon, this time letting it fall more loosely around his waist. He drapes it artfully across his toned tummy, arranging the fabric with a sense of carelessness that still shows intention. Each movement is calculated, designed to highlight the sharp lines of his body that you adore so much. The ribbon clings just enough to suggest the faint curve of his v-line, the rest of the fabric dipping provocatively over his hips. The tail of the ribbon hangs low, trailing down over his cock. Far from concealing, it draws attention to the main gift underneath.

Satisfied with his work, Jaeyun exhales softly, a breath of contentment escaping his plumpy lips as he steps back to take in his reflection from a new perspective. The sight staring back catches him off guard as his pulse stumbles, and he feels a flicker of heat at the tip of his dick as his gaze roams over himself.

The delicate ribbon, pale against the warmth of his skin, transforms him into something otherworldly. The soft contrast heightens the definition of his body - his abs etched deeper into his stomach, his chest broad and prominent. Yet, there’s an ethereal quality to him now, as though the juxtaposition of strength and fragility has created something almost too beautiful to be real.

Jaeyun’s trembling fingers glide over the fabric, tracing its edges, his touch reverent and curious. The sensation sends a shiver down his spine, and he exhales a shaky breath, caught in a haze of disbelief and pride. He looks good. No, better than good. He looks fucking beautiful.

It’s a new kind of beauty, one he’s never seen in himself before. He’s accustomed to being called hot, handsome, and even cute on occasion. But this…this feels different. He feels irresistible, he looks so striking it’s hard to believe it’s his own reflection. Maybe he should consider modelling for those raunchy BookTok covers with half-naked men on horses.

Swallowing thickly, Jaeyun nods to himself, as if to anchor his thoughts and settle the pounding of his heart. He’s made absolutely the right decision. This was worth every single moment of preparation. A small, knowing smile graces his lips as he mutters to himself, “She’s going to love this…”

A grin forms on his blushed face, tearing his eyes away as he reaches for his phone. Now he just needs to get you here. But how? You’re studying for exams next week and the only way you’ll come home is if there is an emergency, but he hates the idea of panicking you. You will probably rush home, get mad that he lied, and then make him sleep on the couch.

No, he needs a better way…

Then it hits him.

“I should take a picture for her!” Jaeyun exclaims to the empty room, the ghosts of your shared apartment watching him with amusement, their silent applause egging him on.

Between speaking to the ghosts and warning his cock, he’s not the most sane person in the world right now.

But regardless of sanity or not, this is a perfect plan. How could you possibly resist coming home when he’s wrapped up like this, a living, breathing gift just for you?

It’s also a safe way to test the waters. If you reply with laughing emojis, he’ll laugh it off as a joke, something he did on a whim because he was bored. But if your response holds even a whisper of desire, Jaeyun is prepared. He’ll sprawl out on the bed and let you use every inch of him, ribbons and all.

Grabbing his phone, he swipes open the camera and steps back to get himself in frame. A moment of hesitation passes as he considers the best pose. He’s sent you nudes before, sure - pictures and videos of him holding his thick cock, teasing with soft movements, or those casual, aerial shots of his toned body from his gaming chair. Those were easy to pull off. But this? A sexy, teasing shot that’s literally impossible to resist? That’s a whole new ballgame.

Jaeyun tries a few positions, starting with an over-the-shoulder shot to highlight his perky bum. But the sloppy knots from the ribbon ruin the image, and he frowns at the result. Next, he flexes his left arm, veins protruding as his bicep bulges, his torso stretching just enough to shift the ribbons higher. He studies the photo for a moment before shaking his head in frustration.

“Jesus Christ, Jaeyun,” he mutters, rolling his eyes at himself. “She wants a soft boy, not some wannabe bodybuilder fuckboy with a small cock.” He lets out a huff of exasperation, tutting as he adjusts the ribbons once again.

Switching to video, he hits record, deciding it might be easier to sift through the footage later for the perfect screengrab. He winks into the lens, a playful twinkle in his eyes as his free hand drifts from his collarbone, down his chest, and towards his stomach, ghosting his skin.

He hooks his fingers into one of the ribbon loops, tugging it just enough to make the tail of fabric covering his cock dance suggestively. The movement is subtle, but it directs all attention downward, exactly like he wants.

Turning slowly, Jaeyun angles himself just right, concealing the messy knots while ensuring his ass is perfectly framed. It looks good, not Seungcheol from Seventeen level juicy, but no one can achieve that bar the man himself. Jaeyun’s ass is just right for you, thick enough to grab and claw at when he has you in a mating press, but subtle enough that he can fit into all types of jeans.

He lightly smacks his ass, dulling the sharp sting with a gentle caress. Jaeyun imagines it’s you spanking him and suddenly, he’s ready to get on all fours.

When the recording ends, he smirks at the screen, reviewing and scrutinising his award-winning performance.

And award-winning it is because the next hurdle he has to leap over is finding the perfect shot. But why settle for one still frame when he could just…send you the entire video?

And that’s exactly what he does.

Opening up your contact, he sees the last message you sent.

I love you, baby! kisses when i get home. promise <33

Jaeyun bites his lips together, concealing the cheshire cat smile that threatens to take over his entire face. He’s hoping for a lot more than just some kisses, and he thinks he might just get what he’s wishing for.

Jaeyun: hey, my love! did you order something?

Y/N: no? not that i remember. why?

With that, he hits upload, the video takes a few minutes due to its length, and his thumbs jump across the keyboard as he writes the accompanying message.

A few moments pass and he hears nothing from you. He guesses it’s because you’re processing what you have just witnessed, but he can’t stop his brain from overthinking. His teeth gnaw at his bottom lip as he conjures up different scenarios for your reaction, some of which include disgust, embarrassment, and other not-so-nice outcomes.

Jaeyun: [1 video attachment]there’s a present here for you

Then, those three dots wipe every thought.

Y/N: baby? what…is this?

Jaeyun: come home and find out, love ;)

Y/N: omw <33

As soon as your last message is received, he realises it’s do or die, so he cleans up the bedroom once again, the nerves and excitement merging into one ball of energy inside his heart. He is ecstatic that you clearly are at least intrigued by the idea, which is better than flat-out rejection or mockery.

He now needs to make sure he’s pretty for you.

_____

The keypad beeps echo in the landing as you punch in your PIN and you swing the door open with urgency. Kicking off your shoes without care, you barely notice the way they clatter against the wall. Your focus is singular, your movements egged on by a mix of confusion and curiosity.

The video still plays in your mind in a loop, and each frame burns into your memory. Watching it in the library had been a mistake - or perhaps the best decision of your day. You had felt an overwhelming rush of emotions: surprise that Jaeyun would do something so bold, intrigue at the sheer prospect of it, and then…that flush of heat that went from your cheeks and travelled straight to your cunt.

Your steps quicken, the familiar flat blurring as you stride towards the bedroom. Your pulse thrums in your ears, and your breaths come faster with each passing second. You’re not sure what to expect, but you know you need answers.

Now.

The door to your bedroom is slightly ajar, the flicker of the dull lamp from inside might as well be compared to the white flash at the pearl gates of heaven. Taking a deep breath, your hand hovers at the door, your body waiting for you to mentally prepare yourself. Are you excited? For sure. Excitement isn’t even enough to describe the bubble in your chest. God, he looked so pretty in the video, you hope this isn’t some sick prank and he’s actually fully clothed behind the door. You shake the thought away, swallowing the lump in your throat, and push the door open.

The sight that greets you steals the breath from your lungs.

Jaeyun lays on your double-sized bed like a living work of art, his body draped in ribbons that teasingly hide the parts of his body your pussy is just now crying out for, your panties soaking instantly at the sight. He’s angled perfectly, one arm resting behind his head, the other draped across his stomach, fingers brushing the fabric. The pink ribbon winds around his chest, his abs, and down his hips, teasingly concealing just enough to leave your imagination reeling. His cock is so big though, that the ribbon isn’t even covering half of it and you could cum right now as your eyes widen and mouth slacks.

The pose it cheesy, it resembles Shawn Michaels on the cover of Playgirl if you’re being honest. But just like how wrestling fans in the 90s fawned over him with just a wrestling belt hiding his dick despite the awkward pose, you’ll do the same with your boyfriend - perhaps even more shamelessly.

Jaeyun bites his lip, his teeth catching the soft flesh as his eyes dart down to himself before meeting yours again. “Surprise,” he murmurs, his voice dipping into that velvety bedroom tone he uses when describing in vivid detail how he plans to absolutely devour you. It sends a ripple of heat through your body, making it nearly impossible to focus, or rather figure out what to focus on. “So…what do you think?”

You let out a shaky breath, struggling to gather your thoughts. “I don’t even know what to think,” you manage, your words tumbling out in disbelief. Your eyes roam over him again, lingering shamelessly on the ribbon that teases more than it hides. “But I know you look so fucking hot.”

A grin spreads across his face, slow and sultry, as though your words are a symphony and he’s savouring every note. “Not pretty?” he quips, teasingly twirling the loose end of the ribbon between his fingers.

Your gaze locks onto the veins snaking up his forearms. They’re hypnotic, and you’re suddenly struck by the thought of gripping onto them, feeling their pulse under your desperate hands as he works you over with his fingers. The mere idea has your body responding, a warm ache blooming between your thighs.

Jaeyun raises an eyebrow, pulling you out of your spiralling thoughts. “Lost in there, baby?” he asks with a smirk, his teasing tone dripping with amusement.

“I mean…yeah,” you murmur, barely audible, your voice laced with awe. “You look beautiful. Perfect.” The last word is whispered, but it's easily the most earnest confession to fall from your lips.

A faint blush blooms across his cheeks, barely visible in the dim lighting, but enough to make your heart flutter. He shifts, sitting up on the bed with his legs spread and knees bent, the new position giving you an unfiltered view of his semi-hard cock. The tip is flushed, indicating that he’s been holding back as he waits for you, and the sight alone has you clenching around nothing.

“I’m glad you think so,” he says smoothly, gesturing to his body like it’s a gift he’s unwrapping just for you. “Because it’s all yours, baby. Do whatever you want.”

Your stomach tightens, a thrill shooting through you at his words. “What?” you whisper, needing to hear it again for clarification, because you’re sure your arousal is messing with your brain receptors.

“I’m yours to use,” he explains, his voice dropping into a husky murmur. “Just for tonight. Make me beg, whimper. Edge me. Tease me. Choke me. Tie me up with these ribbons. Whatever your pretty little head dreams up. I’m at your mercy.”

A gush of wetness soaks your panties, your body betraying your excitement before you can even process his offer. This has been a long-standing fantasy of yours, one you’ve never fully admitted to him, though you’d tried to hint at it countless times. The idea of taking control, of pinning him down and making him unravel beneath you, had lingered in the corners of your mind for years.

But somehow, he’d never caught on. All the subtle moments - your fingers wrapping around his throat but never squeezing, the way you’d pressed him into the mattress but let him take the reins again - had flown over his head. It seemed your silent desires had fallen flat.

Until now.

Your chest tightens at the thought. “You mean…” you trail off, your voice hesitant, hoping he’ll fill in the gaps so you won’t have to say it out loud.

His smirk grows, confidence radiating off him in waves. “I mean you have free reign,” he says, leaning back slightly, the ribbons shifting to reveal just a bit more of his toned stomach. “I’ll be your good boy the entire night.”

That does it to you.

Next thing you know, you’re pouncing on the boy, pinning him back to the bed as your lips crash against his with hunger you can’t contain, your bodies instinctively fitting together like yin and yang. His breath hitches as your mouths meld, the soft, pliant press of his lips yielding eagerly to you. You kiss him like you’ve been starving, like the taste of him is the only thing that could ever satiate you, and his low, needy moans tell you he feels the same. You would think that you hadn’t seen each other for months, deprived of touch, but in reality, you were tangled like this just last night.

Your tongue flicks against his, a bold swipe that coaxes him to open further for you. The heat between you grows with every glide of your tongue against his, every playful nip at his bottom lip that makes him shudder beneath you. His hands hover at your hips, unsure if he is allowed to touch, unfamiliar with this new dynamic, but you’re already too far gone to notice.

You pull back slightly, just enough to move your attention to his neck, dragging your lips across the sensitive skin. A breathless chuckle escapes him, quickly turning into a sharp inhale as you nip at his pulse point, your teeth leaving claims over him. The quiet gasps and whimpers that fall from his lips fuel you further, your lips and teeth trailing lower, leaving a delicate constellation of marks down the column of his throat.

When you reach his collarbone, you let your tongue dart out to taste him, revelling in the way he squirms beneath you. You’ve heard him moan, but never like this, like he’s moaning in both pleasure and pain. The pain comes from the desperate need to take control. You nip gently, then soothe the spot with a kiss, and he lets out a broken moan, his head tipping back into the plush pillows.

But it’s his chest that truly captures your attention. The ribbon wrapped snugly around him creates a pretty display, his nipples peeking out like individual presents waiting to be unwrapped. You can’t help but smirk as you dip your head lower, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to the centre of his chest before trailing to one side.

You pause just above his nipple, the soft rise and fall of his breathing making it all the more tempting. Without hesitation, you brush your lips over the taut bud, then suck lightly at the sensitive skin. His reaction is immediate - a sharp intake of breath, followed by a low groan that sends a thrill straight through you. He’s into this and you’ve barely even started.

Tonight is going to be so much fun.

Straddling his lap, you take a moment to admire the way he looks beneath you, the ribbons framing him perfectly, his chest flushed and glistening from your attention. He’s exquisite, vulnerable in a way that makes your heart race. You grip the top layer of the ribbon, using it to pull him up towards you.

“Come here,” you murmur, your voice soft but commanding. His eyes flutter open, dazed and dark with arousal, and he obeys without hesitation. You kiss him again, this time slower, deeper, savouring every moment.

When you pull back, your hand drifts to his chest, your thumb brushing over his nipple, slow but with pressure. The effect is instantaneous - he hisses, his body jerking slightly as he throws his head back.

“Fuck,” he breathes, his voice shaky, the word drawn out like a plea. His reaction makes your smirk grow, confidence surging through you.

“Not used to being touched here, huh?” you tease, your voice a low purr as you circle his nipple again, watching the way his body tenses and trembles under your touch. “I didn’t know you were so sensitive, baby.”

“Neither did I,” he confesses. Considering he did most - if not all - of his sexual exploring with you, it makes sense. If you both haven’t tried something together, he doesn’t know about it. As much as this is fulfilling a fantasy for you, it’s also opening up his horizons, helping him explore his body and needs. And so far, he’s loving every second.

He flutters his eyes closed, enjoying the pressure and pull of your thumbs on his nipples, and instinctively, his hands trail up your body, dipping under your t-shirt so he can feel your soft skin under the pads on his fingers. Jaeyun tries to cup your tits, but when you feel him, you surprise him - and yourself - with something entirely new.

You pinch his nipples tight, twisting them enough to make him yelp and jerk his hands away.

“Ow!” he yelps, his hands that tried to grope you now bunched up at his sides.

“Baby, oh my god, are you okay? Did I hurt you?” you blurt out, eyes wide with worry as your hands move to cup his face. Frantically, you search his gaze for any sign of pain or discomfort. Though you find traces of both, there’s a flicker of amusement dancing in his eyes.

“You caught me off guard, that’s all, princess,” he reassures you softly, his hands covering yours. The sight of your panicked expression tugs at his heartstrings, and he can’t help but pout playfully. “It’s okay. You can do whatever you want, remember?”

You nod slowly, agreeing that while yes that was the plan, you don’t want him to not enjoy it. Your fingers slide down to entwine with his, hoping to soothe him. “Maybe we should use a safeword,” you suggest tentatively, biting your lip.

Jaeyun bursts into laughter, his chest shaking as he tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “What are you planning to do to me, baby, huh?” he teases, waggling his eyebrows mischievously.

His reaction only makes you groan, covering your face with your hands as you shake your head. “No! Not like that,” you protest, your voice muffled by your palms. “This is new for me, and I didn’t even know I was going to… tweak your nipples…”

Jaeyun laughs again, this time with immense fondness at its base, eyes crinkling at the edges as he reaches up to pull your hands away from your face. “Baby, don’t hide,” he whispers, his thumbs brushing the back of your hands. “I can take it, I was just surprised.” His voice is warm and reassuring. He’s so considerate and loving, even after you’ve violated his nipples…what a man.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to push you to do anything you’re uncomfortable with…I mean we can just have sex like normal. You can tie me-”

“Stop,” Jaeyun cuts you off with a small laugh, his tone steady but playful. “No. You want this, and I want this. I can handle a little nipple play or whatever else that pretty mind of yours comes up with.” He punctuates his words with a gentle poke to your forehead, his grin so genuine and full of trust that you almost break down sobbing. You lean in to kiss him, melting all your apprehensions away.

As you pull back, you find your resolve again. If he wants this, and so do you, then you should do it.

“Okay… yeah…” you murmur, clearing your throat and slipping back into the role you’d started to embrace. Your voice takes on a firmer tone as you meet his gaze. “No touching me unless I say so. And no taking over. These are my only rules. I really want to try this properly.”

Jaeyun nods excitedly as his cock twitches, watching your eyes go from concern to slowly regaining that power you had earlier, the commanding presence that seems to wrap around you like a second skin. He can’t lie, it’s so fucking sexy to him - this new allure and aura that seems to overtake you when you’re on top of him. “Yes, Ma’am.”

With that, your hands grip the hem of your t-shirt and pull it over your head, discarding it without breaking eye contact with the boy underneath you. Jaeyun instantly begins to lick his lips, knowing you’re going for your lavender bra next.

When Jaeyun says he loves your tits, it means he loves your tits. Adores them. Cannot think of anything better than fondling them, sucking them, marking them, even just holding them in his hand while you both watch a movie. He’s obsessed. If you plan on depriving him, that might just be the hardest part of this.

Your hands circle to your back, grabbing the clasp and undoing it achingly slow. Jaeyun almost pants like a dog as he awaits his favourite treats.

“You can’t touch until I say so,” you warn him, already pre-empting the inevitable. He’s going to swarm in, his eyes already giving his intention away more than his prodding cock against your ass.

“Okay…don’t be mean though,” he whines, licking his lips in anticipation, hands scrunching up beside him. He wants nothing more than to pin you draw you closer to him and bury his face into your pretty, tantalising chest.

You can’t help but smirk as you see him practically drooling over your body, feeling how he wriggles underneath you as he impatiently waits for you to give him the green light. Jaeyun swipes his tongue over his bottom lip as he looks up at you, like butter wouldn’t melt, and you almost fold. The stars in his eyes set your heart racing and blood pulsing.

Your boyfriend has those eyes, the one that can make you flip your mind and give him anything he wants. You’ve spent years trying to master how to not give in, to stand your ground and finally have your way for once. Yet, all his attempts have worked. Every. Single. Time.

But not today.

Instead of giving in to his unspoken pleas, you cup your breasts in your hands, kneading them slowly and deliberately, as if moulding the softest dough. Your fingers tease your nipples, catching them just enough to send a shiver of pleasure down your spine, your breath escaping in a quiet, lustful sigh. They don’t feel nearly as good as Jaeyun’s hands do, but the expression on his face makes it all worthwhile.

Jaeyun’s gaze stays glued to you, wide and glassy, like a starving man who can see the sweetest fruit just out of reach. His eyes follow every movement, his thighs clenching and relaxing in time with the slow rhythm of your hands. His lips part slightly, and his tongue flicks out with each pinch you give your nipples, as if he can almost feel it himself.

The way he reacts - so helpless and captivated - only fuels your confidence. You wonder how much further you can push him before offering even a shred of mercy. Slowly, your hips begin to roll against him, the rough denim of your jeans grazing over his shaft. The friction pulls a sharp inhale from his lips, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard, overwhelmed by the sensation.

When soft, breathy moans escape your lips, your body moving in perfect harmony with the teasing motion of your hands, he feels caught in a torturous balance between bliss and agony. You’re divine, ethereal, and just out of reach; close enough to admire but too far to claim.

“Fuck, baby, you’re enjoying yourself, huh?” His voice is strained, his words not really a question but more of a jealous statement.

You smirk, grinding a little harder against him. While the thickness of your jeans dulls your own sensations, the way his ragged breaths hitch with every movement is more than enough to keep you going. “I love it. Don’t you?”

Jaeyun chuckles, nodding eagerly. “Yeah, I love it,” he admits, his voice breathy and filled with want. He hesitates for a moment, biting his lip as if the next words might be too bold, too risky. He’s terrified you’ll stop the intoxicating pressure against his cock. “I would love it even more if-”

“If I touched you?” you interrupt with a sly grin, your voice dripping with mischief.

It wasn’t what he was going to say - not exactly. What he wanted was to touch you, to feel your skin under his palms and reclaim even a little bit of control. But if you’re offering him pleasure, he’s not about to argue.

Your hands leave your chest, letting your breasts bounce naturally as they settle. The sight makes Jaeyun’s breath hitch, his eyes glued to the mesmerising way they jiggle. A low sound escapes his throat, almost like a purr, and you can feel the heat of his gaze travelling over every inch of you.

The corners of your lips twitch as you stand up slowly, your hips swaying slightly as you step off the bed. His eyes spark, and the loss of your weight on him is immediately missed, but his curiosity overrides his disappointment. You reach for the button of your jeans, unhooking it with teasing slowness.

“You’ve been so good for me,” you say, your voice soft yet commanding. “I think you deserve a little more, don’t you?”

Jaeyun nods frantically as he watches you with rapt attention. His tongue darts out to wet his lips as you shimmy out of your jeans, letting the fabric slide down your legs. You step out of them, kicking them to the side without breaking eye contact.

Now standing before him in nothing but your panties, you let the tension linger, watching the way his chest rises and falls with every ragged breath. His gaze drinks you in, and his jaw slacks as if he can’t believe what he’s seeing even though he has seen you in those pretty blue pants more than he can count. They’re your favourite pair after all.

“Better?” you ask, cocking your head to the side with a playful smirk, relishing in how he devours you with his gaze.

“Fuck, yes.”

You climb back onto the bed, positioning yourself between his legs and you see his cock, red and hard, laying against his stomach and over those pretty ribbons. The contrast between the angry and the delicate makes your tummy flutter and pussy pulse.

Dipping your head down, you run your tongue in one slow, sensual stroke from the base of his length to the tip, tracing the prominent vein like it’s a map guiding you to treasure. Jaeyun’s reaction is instant; his hips buck up as he demands more, and a deep, guttural groan escapes his lips. The soft, wet warmth of your tongue gives him just a taste of what he craves, but it’s nowhere near enough to satisfy him.

You don’t stop there. Instead, you shift your focus, trailing your tongue up his torso, leaving a path of kisses over each ribbon he put so much effort into. Each kiss is like a silent thank you for making him look even more breathtaking than he already does. Your hands grip his hips firmly, holding him down with as much strength as you can muster to keep his excited movements in check.

Jaeyun’s breathing is erratic, his chest rising and falling rapidly as you continue your ascent. Your teeth nip at his skin playfully, just enough to make him gasp and shiver beneath you. Exactly what you want.

“You’re so needy, baby,” you tease softly, your voice laced with amusement.

His head falls back against the pillow, his hands gripping the sheets tightly as he fights the urge to take control. “And you’re a tease,” he mutters, though there’s no real bite in his words - just breathless adoration.

You hum in response, your lips curling into a smirk as you reach his collarbone, nipping and sucking gently before kissing the spot to soothe it. His body trembles under your touch, and you feel a surge of satisfaction knowing you’re driving him wild.

“Good boys don’t complain,” you murmur against his skin, your hands still firmly planted on his hips.

Jaeyun swallows hard, his eyes fluttering open to meet yours. “Jesus fuck, if you keep talking like that, I’m gonna bust,” he admits, his earlier resolve crumbling under the weight of your words. The way you call him a good boy, it’s so much better than anything his imagination could have conjured.

You smirk, leaning in closer until your face is mere inches from his, your breasts hovering just above his chest. The silk ribbon brushing against your own sensitive nipples sends a spark of pleasure through you, adding to the growing fire inside. “That’s another rule, actually,” you purr. “You can’t cum until I say so.”

“Wai-”

“No talking back, baby,” you interrupt, your hand sliding to the base of his neck. Your fingers tighten just enough to send a warning, your power over him radiating through the simple touch. “Do as you’re told.”

Jaeyun’s jaw tightens, his instinct to argue bubbling up, but the glint in your eyes and the sheer joy radiating from you makes him pause. He can see how much you’re revelling in the moment, how fully you’ve stepped into this role. So he yields, nodding.

“Okay,” he murmurs, his voice soft and filled with both love and resignation. “I promise.”

His heart flutters, a mix of disappointment and excitement swirling within him. He knows you’re going to make him earn it, make him work for every ounce of pleasure. And while the thought of being denied drives him crazy, he can’t help but feel giddy seeing you so confident and in control. You’re getting everything that you wrote about, and he is so, so happy to be able to give you this.

You smile, brushing your lips over his cheek in a featherlight kiss. “Good boy,” you whisper, the praise making his body shudder beneath you. “Now, let’s see how long you can keep that promise,” you tease, your voice laced with wicked delight.

Removing your hand from his throat, you trail down his body the pads of your fingers brushing lightly over his skin and tugging at the ribbons, making his body shudder. You drum your fingers against his stomach, missing his strained cock each time. The vibrations shoot straight through him and make his dick jump, reaching out for you.

When you finally make contact with his cock, you wrap your fingers around the head with care, gripping it like it’s a joystick and playing with it teasingly.

Jaeyun sucks in a sharp breath, his hips twitching at the contact, but he holds himself back, remembering your rules, or at least trying to. You reward his restraint with a soft kiss on his lips, brief but sweet, before pulling away to make better use of your mouth.

Sliding down his body, you take your time, letting your lips graze his skin, your breath warm and whispy. His abs contract under your kisses, and his whimpers grow louder with every inch you descend. When you’re finally face-to-face with his shaft, you pause, letting the anticipation build as you glance up at him. His wide, pleading eyes meet yours, his chest heaving with each shaky breath.

“Doing so well, baby,” you murmur, your voice soft and filled with pure bliss. He is so good at this, being submissive, whether he’s playing it up to make this more enjoyable for you, or he is actually falling into his own role with the same amount of ease as you did yours, you’re thankful.

Little do you know that Jaeyun is enjoying this much more than you are at this point.

Your tongue darts out, tracing a slow, wet line along the underside of his length, starting from the base and moving toward the tip. You pause to swirl your tongue around the head, savouring the way his body jolts at the contact. His groan is high-pitched, almost desperate, and it sends a thrill through you. He’s usually such a grunter, his moans low and primal, but now he’s almost like a puppy compared to a wolf.

“Please,” he breathes out, his voice barely above a whisper, but you don’t respond. Instead, you press your lips to his shaft, kissing your way back down to the base. You alternate between featherlight kisses and gentle nips, each one drawing a new sound from him - soft gasps, low groans, and broken moans, you name it, he’s making it.

Your hands hold his hips firmly in place, ensuring he can’t move as your mouth continues its torment. You flatten your tongue against him, licking up his length in long, languid strokes, relishing in every beautiful inch. The contrast between the warmth of your mouth and the cool air in the room has him trembling beneath you. With each attempt to wiggle, the pink ribbons tighten around him, adding a new layer of lust to his loins.

“Y-you’re killing me,” Jaeyun stammers, his voice trembling as his head falls back against the pillow.

You hum against him, the vibration making him shudder. “Oh, we’re just getting started,” you purr, your lips brushing against the sensitive skin just below the head.

Finally, you take him into your mouth and begin sucking gently, your cheeks hollowing as you create the perfect amount of pressure. His hands clutch the sheets, his knuckles white as he fights the urge to reach for you. All he wants to do is grab your hair and make you go faster or to start throat fucking you until he’s pouring you a glass of his seed.

But you move slowly, taking your time, pulling off with a soft pop before returning to tease him again, your tongue flicking over the slit. Your tongue dips into him, swirling around and reaching as deep as you can. Jaeyun has never in his life experienced something so tortuous yet delicious. Somehow, you’re giving him what he wants and it still isn’t enough, like you know how to just get him on the edge before stepping back.

Jaeyun’s whimpers grow louder, his voice breaking as he pleads. His body is taut, every muscle straining as he struggles to keep his promise. “Please… please…” he chokes out, tears pricking the corners of his eyes from the sheer intensity of your teasing.

You glance up, your lips curling into a wicked smile as you meet his gaze. “Not yet, baby,” you whisper, your voice dripping with authority. “Be patient for me.”

His groan is a mix of frustration and submission, and you can’t help but feel a surge of satisfaction at the sight of him - completely undone, trembling, and at your mercy. He gets even more worked up once you take him completely in your mouth, his head kissing your tonsils before you quickly take it all away again. The only thing he can do is kick his legs each time your warm mouth is replaced with the cold air of the room.

To you, it’s adorable; his scrunched up, frustrated face with his bottom lip slightly pouting. You can tell he’s seconds away from picking you up and taking over, letting you have it rough and hard for being cruel like this. And as much as that sounds delightful, this is also far too much fun.

So you do it again, and again, and again, until he finally cries out, pleading incoherently. “Just let me cum, “ he mewls out, “Fuck, I’m being so good.” The end of his sentence comes with a high-pitched groan as you grab onto his balls, gripping them just enough that it’s more pleasurable than painful.

“You are being so good,” you begin, giving him a false sense of hope. “But that was before you demanded I let you cum.” And just like that, his face falls, all that hope vanishing into thin air and the grip you have on his balls tightens, transforming that euphoric pleasure into agony.

He arches off the bed and his hands grip the sheets, somehow still restraining himself from touching you. Jaeyun feels a mix of everything. Desperation from the need to cum, distress from the pressure you’re putting on his sensitive balls, and pride that you’re having a great time. Sure, it’s sort of at his expense, but he would be lying if he didn’t admit that underneath the bruising balls and edging he wasn’t having the time of his life.

No wonder you love it so much when he's in control, being at his command. It’s fun and exciting, albeit painful.

You loosen your grip, checking his face to assess how he’s feeling. Crushing his balls wasn’t a fantasy, and you don’t take great pleasure in causing him pain, but something inside you assured your worried mind that he would love it. And by the smile on his face and heaving in his ribbon-clad chest, you were right.

He is loving this.

“Now, do you want to ask again nicely?” You offer him the chance to beg, massaging his balls to ease the ache you caused which only riles him up more, his length leaping once with sheer joy.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he breathes, a pleased smile overtaking the remnants of his earlier wince. The pain is a fading memory now, overshadowed by the way your touch sends sparks through him. “Please...may I cum?”

You release a soft hum, dragging your nails lightly over his sensitive sacks, eliciting a shudder that courses through his entire body. His chest quivers, the ribbon tied around it a cruelly beautiful contrast to his helplessness. You take your time, savouring the way his voice falters in its eagerness, the desperate edge that sounds so foreign from his lips.

“Hmm,” you murmur, pretending to consider it as your hand trails upward, fingers ghosting over the base of his length. “I don’t know if you’ve earned it yet.”

His hips jerk, entirely involuntary, as though his body seeks for the permission his lips have lost confidence to beg for. That insatiable hunger in his eyes, those pupils blown wide with need and reverence - it’s intoxicating. He’s utterly yours.

“Please,” he tries again, voice cracking ever so slightly. It’s almost pitiful, but there’s no denying the thrill it sends through you. “I need to, baby. Please let me cum.”

The power in your hands feels like fire and ice, a balance of control and chaos. You grip his chin lightly, tilting his face up to meet your gaze. “Do you?” you ask softly, the question hanging in the air like a challenge. “Tell me how badly you want it.”

He swallows hard, the muscles in his throat bobbing against your touch. “More than anything,” he says hoarsely, his breath coming in shallow, shaky waves. “I’ll do whatever you want, anything - just let me have this.”

Your lips curl into a slow, knowing smile. “Good boy,” you praise, leaning in just enough for your breath to ghost over his lips, teasing but not quite giving him what he craves. “But I’ll decide when you’ve earned it. And you’ll wait, won’t you?”

The groan that escapes him is somewhere between frustration and ecstasy, his head falling back as he nods fervently, every muscle in his body taut with restraint. “Okay. I’ll be patient.”

You cup his cheek and bring his eyes back to yours. “Thank you, Jaeyun. For all of this.” It’s a thank you for being good, but it’s also a thank you for letting you explore this. You don’t know why he decided to do this today or how he figured your desires out, but you’re thankful for it all.

Not many men would let you crush their balls and respond with a smile.

The tenderness of your touch flows through to your boyfriend’s chest, injecting his heart with a newfound gem of love. He has a treasure chest of gold and rubies in there just for you, overflowing with gratitude and adoration. Each time you share a quiet moment like this, the treasure gets more grand, taking up much-deserved space. He carries around your love, heavy and cherished.

“Anything for you, baby,” he murmurs, smiling softly at you, the light in his eyes conveying his love. “Can I get permission to kiss you, or?”

You giggle, nodding your head. “Yes, you can kiss me.”

You roll your eyes, shaking your head with exaggerated disappointment. “No. And now, thanks to your cheek, you’ve just earned yourself an even longer wait.”

And with that, Jaeyun captures your lips in his, gentle yet passionate, tentative but meaningful. His hand cups your cheek, guiding your head into a tilt as you nuzzle against his touch. Despite the roles you’re both playing there’s a window of just being Y/N and Jaeyun. It’s perfect.

"Since you're feeling generous...can I cum?" He wiggles his brows, chancing his arm that you'll say yes even though just two minutes ago you told him no.

“Oh, c’mon-”

“Shh!” you cut him off sharply, your voice laced with authority and amusement. “Or I’ll make it so you don’t cum at all.”

That shuts him up instantly. His mouth clamps shut, and his eyes widen in alarm, the threat of complete denial hitting him harder than any punishment ever could. It’s bad enough being forced to wait now, but the thought of being denied entirely? He won’t dare risk it. So, gulping down his protests, he nods meekly, slipping back into the role of the obedient sub you’ve trained him to be.

Satisfied with his compliance, you sit up, your movements unhurried as you slide your underwear down your legs. The air in the room seems to grow hotter, his gaze fixed on you with an intensity that sends a rush of heat through your bloodstream. Your lips glisten under the dim light, catching his attention like a lighthouse beyond the dark sea. He stares, his throat working as he swallows hard, his desire palpable in the way his chest heaves and his hands twitch with restraint.

In an ideal world - his ideal world - he’d be between your legs right this fucking second, his face buried between your thighs, tasting you, worshipping you until you unravel on his tongue over and over again. He’d wear your pleasure like a mask, his face shining with evidence of your release, and he’d be the happiest man alive - happier than he already is if you can believe it.

But that’s not the reality - not yet. So he waits, muscles straining with anticipation, his cock twitching in sync with his heartbeat, almost wagging like the eager tail of a dog desperate to please. Even his body seems to understand the privilege of what’s coming next - the sheer joy of being buried deep inside you.

What does recognise deep down though, is the torment that comes with that privilege. Because let's face it, you’re not about to make it easy for him. Not tonight. And he’s prepared…he thinks.

Your hand strokes him again, leisurely dragging along his length, each slow pump a deliberate tease that pulls a low groan from deep within his chest. His restraint is paper-thin, and you know it. You line him up at your entrance, loving the way he shudders beneath you, every nerve ending alight with anticipation and greed.

As you begin to sink down onto him, the air between you shifts, its intensity has both of you gasping. The stretch is magical, the way he fills you inch by inch sending a flood of pleasure up your spine. A shared moan escapes, his deep and guttural, yours breathy and high-pitched, the perfect harmony of bodies fitting together, just like always.

Your hands rest on his stomach, fingers splayed over the soft ribbon binding him, and you watch as his head tips back, exposing the vulnerable column of his throat. His lips part in a silent cry, and his eyes flutter shut, overwhelmed by the way your warmth grips him, tight and unrelenting.

But you don’t rush. No, that would be too easy. He’s already so close you know that if you gave him what he wanted, you’d be full of his seed in a minute. Instead, you move torturously slowly, lifting your hips just enough to keep him on the edge before sinking back down, your walls fluttering around him in a way that makes him curse under his breath.

“Patience,” you giggle, a sly smile playing on your lips as you roll your hips just slightly, just enough to make his cock twitch inside you. “You’re supposed to be my good boy, remember?”

His hands fist the sheets beneath him, his knuckles white with the effort of holding back. “I am,” he rasps, his voice strained, desperate. “I am your good boy. Please...Y/N, I am begging you to let me move.”

But you’re not ready to give him that freedom - not yet. So you ride him at your own pace, hips moving in a soft figure eight. It’s so pretty to see him hold back. Honestly, half of this night hasn’t even been you doing anything drastic - bar the ball squeezing and nipple tweaking - it’s all about what he can’t do. He can’t touch you, pound into you the way he does oh so well. He can’t even buck up his hips right now. That is what’s making this so torturous for him.

And so, so fun for you.

Bouncing once, you slam back onto him and he strains his entire body, the way your cervix batters down on the tip of his cock makes him see stars and his balls tighten, but you don’t budge after that, letting the feeling wash away and his orgasm sits at the base of his cock, never quite able to reach the top.

Jaeyun can last hours in bed, there have been instances where he has made you cum at least four times before he even cums once. No matter how long he is inside you, he can hold out to prolong your pleasure. But because he’s relinquished all control to you, that also means holding back is proving a lot harder.

You see him shaking, breathing out like he’s trying to calm himself down. His eyes prick with tears of desperation and you take a moment to soak in the sight of him beneath you. His flushed face and sweaty skin show you just how much he’s going through even if he can’t vocalise it. You would feel bad if his cock wasn’t jumping for joy inside of you.

Lifting your hips once more, you sit so only the tip of his cock is inside of you, and you squeeze your pelvis, eliciting a sweet moan from his lips and etching a pleased smile on your face. You grip the ribbons and admire how they dance under his contracting, needy body.

“They’re so pretty, Jaeyun,” you mutter, sinking back down fully onto his length. “So pretty.”

“They look good, right?” he asks with a smirk, though there is still a need for his slight insecurity to be soothed. Since this is new territory for him, he needs to be reassured that he has done well.

You nod, rolling your hips in a slow, deliberate motion that makes him groan. His cock presses against your walls perfectly, thick and unyielding, sending a wave of pleasure coursing through you. Your head tilts back, eyes fluttering shut for a moment as you let the sensation consume you. “They look amazing, baby,” you whisper, voice heavy with satisfaction. “So pretty on you.”

Gripping the ribbons like reins, you take control, moving your body with a confidence that leaves him breathless. Your hips gyrate in a rhythm that drives him wild, his hands clutching at the sheets as his body arches beneath you. Every motion, every sound, is a testament to how completely he’s yours.

Jaeyun’s breath is uneven as he struggles to hold himself together, the way you’re clutching onto the ribbons as you bounce your pussy on his shaft, expertly squeezing at both the bottom and top of his member. You can see it in his eyes - the need, the desperation - but he doesn’t move, his hands still gripping the sheets like they’re the only thing keeping him grounded.

“Please,” he finally whispers, whining out as his hands hover in the air.

You tilt your head, slowing your movements just enough to make him squirm beneath you. “Please, what, baby?” you ask softly, though your tone carries a teasing edge.

His fingers dance in the air, begging to latch onto something - or someone - and his gaze locks onto yours, raw and pleading. “Can I touch you?” he asks with such vulnerability in his voice it makes your heart ache in the best possible way. “Please…I need to.”

You pause for a moment, letting his words hang between you as your hands trail down the ribbons, pulling them tight enough just enough to remind him who’s in control. His body tenses beneath you, his cock throbbing inside you as he waits for your response.

Leaning down, you bring your lips close to his ear, your breath warm against his skin. “You have been really good for me, Jaeyun,” you murmur, your voice low and sickeningly sweet it’s hard to believe it’s honest. “So good. Maybe you do deserve a reward, huh?”

His breath hitches, hope flickering in his eyes as he nods eagerly. “I’ve been the best,” he huffs out through an excited laugh. “I’ve done everything you ask. Let me touch you? Please, baby.”

You smile, pressing a gentle kiss to his jaw before straightening up again. Releasing the ribbons from your grip, you reach for his hands, guiding them slowly toward your hips. His fingers tremble as they make contact with your skin, and the moment he feels you beneath his touch, a soft, reverent sigh escapes his lips. He hadn’t realised how much he enjoyed holding you until right now.

He will never take it for granted again.

“There,” you say softly, watching the way his hands explore you like he so casually always does, but this one feels more meaningful. “You can touch me anywhere.”

And he does. His hands slide over your hips, gripping you firmly but gently as if grounding himself in the reality of you. The warmth of his palms sends shivers down your spine, and his touch grows bolder with each passing second, his desperation translating into reverence and care. He makes his way to your tits, his eyes rolling back as he squeezes your breasts, flicking your nipples much like you had done to yourself earlier.

“You feel so perfect,” he breathes, “You always do.”

You watch him, a mix of affection and desire swirling in your chest as you lean into his touch. “So do you, baby” you whisper, the words coaxing a groan from his lips as his grip tightens slightly as he realises you’re talking about the way his cock moves inside of you.

With that, you bounce on his cock with purpose. This has been fun, a lot of fun in fact, but you just want to feel him now. To just be with him and have sex. No more dom/sub, no more making him work for it.

Well…maybe there is one last thing you want to try before the night ends.

“Sit up for me, Jaeyun,” you command, and Jaeyun sits up as you instructed, his hands sliding down to grip your ass, his fingers digging into your skin as he pulls you closer. His chest presses against yours, the heat radiating between your bodies intensifying the moment. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, his lips brushing against your skin as his breath comes out in short, ragged gasps. He doesn’t want to push it by kissing you

You tangle your fingers in his hair for a moment, letting him savour the closeness, before reaching for the ribbon tied across his chest. His body tenses slightly as he feels you undo the sloppy knot, but he doesn’t question it - to be honest, he’s too far gone, too consumed by you to do anything but follow your lead.

“You’re fucking perfect,” you murmur, the praise making him melt as you pull the ribbon free. The soft fabric slides against his skin and his eyes flicker up to meet yours, curiosity and desire swirling in their depths.

“What are you-” he starts, but his words are cut off as you loop the ribbon around his neck, pulling it by both ends just enough to make him gasp softly, the tightness cutting off his airwaves a fraction.

His lips part in surprise, his pupils blown wide as he stares at you. He expected a lot tonight, but somehow not you choking him with the ribbon he spent forever deciding upon. “You trust me, don’t you, Jaeyun?” you ask, your voice soft but commanding, your hands wrapping the ends of the ribbon between your fingers to secure your grip.

“Yes,” he breathes without hesitation, his voice barely above a whisper. “Always.”

A satisfied smile curves your lips as you tighten the ribbon just a little more, enough to make him feel strain but not enough to hurt. His hands grip your waist instinctively, his cock twitching inside you as the new sensation sends a bolt of lust through him.

Choking kink. Check.

“Good,” you reply, rolling your hips against him, the friction drawing a low moan from his throat. “Then let me take care of you.”

He nods, his head tilting back slightly as you tug on the ribbon, guiding his movements. His hands move restlessly over your body, gripping and caressing as though he can’t get enough of you.

“You look so good like this,” you whisper, your voice dripping with approval. “So pretty, Jaeyun. All mine.”

The praise makes him groan, his hips bucking up into you as he loses himself in the moment. The combination of your control and the intoxicating rhythm of your bodies leaves him utterly at your mercy, his breaths coming in shallow, needy gasps.

With every tightening of the ribbon and every bounce or roll of your hips, the tension between you builds, the air around you electric. The room is filled with the sound of your bodies moving together, his broken moans blending with your breathy sighs. Every pull of the ribbon tightens the coil of pleasure in both of you, and every bounce of your hips pushes you closer to the edge.

Jaeyun is infatuated with the way you’re choking him, how his head is getting lighter, and how you’re tightening it more and more the closer you are to coming undone. He’s choked you before, lots of times, and you always tell him you love it. But only now is he understanding why. It feels like he’s high, having an outerbody experience while still being attuned to everything around him.

It’s fucking unreal.

“I’m close, Jaeyun,” you whine, bouncing faster but rhythm faltering as you chase your release. This is where your doting boyfriend can lend a helping hand. Despite his own hazed state, he grabs your ass and guides you manually up and down his length in a rhythm he knows you love.

It’s frantic and raw, and you can feel the coil inside begin to burn. You kiss his temple and wrap your arms around his neck, the ribbon long forgotten and only the thought of cumming on your mind. Jaeyun doesn’t mind, he’s ready to pop any second so he welcomes the blood rushing back to his head so he can get you both there.

“Let go for me, princess. You did so well,” he whispers into your chest, your heart receiving the words like a love letter. “I’m cumming too, yeah?” he asks one more bought of permission to which you grant, crying out a definite ‘yes’.

Your head falls back, a cry escaping your throat as the pleasure crashes over you, leaving you breathless. Your walls pulse around him, simulating both of you in the most delicious way possible. “Fuck! Jaeyun, please cum inside me.”

The words push him over the edge. With a loud, primal moan, his body tenses beneath you, his hips jerking up as he spills inside you, the heat of his release adding an extra level of pleasure through you. The way he clings to you, the sound of your name falling from his lips, how his hands claw at your hips as if to ground him, it’s all beautiful and makes you want to cry.

For a moment, neither of you moves and the only sound in the room is your sputtered breaths and the pounding of your synced hearts. Slowly, you loosen your arms around him, the ribbon slightly tightening around him again.

Jaeyun’s hands trail up your back, holding you close as his forehead rests against yours. His eyes flutter open, and the love and adoration in his gaze make your heart leap and stomach do cartwheels.

“You’re amazing,” he whispers, his voice hoarse but still soft enough to portray his awe. “That was so much fun.”

A giggle escapes your lips as you play with the ribbon. “You think I did okay?”

“Perfect.” He says it so matter-of-factly that any apprehension disappears instantly. He tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear and kisses your nose. “We’re definitely doing this again.”

You pull him in for a kiss, exciting his cock once again, much to your happiness. “I’m glad you had fun, baby…” you trail off pulling back slightly, “How did you know I wanted to try that?”

Jaeyun blushes and contemplates whether to tell you the truth or not. But since he can’t keep anything from you, he decides to just be honest. He reaches for the diary he not-so-subtly hid under the bed. “I snooped”

“Sim Jaeyun!” You slap his chest and snatch the precious notebook from his grasp, inspecting it. “This is private!” Your ears turn bright red and your body shakes in slight shame. You know what you wrote in this, some of it innocent, some of it not so much, but every single word meant.

“Sorry! I couldn’t help it. It was from the year we met, I wanted to know what kind of impression I made.” He bites your earlobe suggestively, “Apparently it was a good one.”

You roll your eyes and flick through it, landing on the page decorated in ribbons, instantly heating up. If only you could go back to 2021 Y/N and tell her that her fantasy would become reality, even better than she imagined.

“Yknow, I’m surprised you took inspiration from this page and not the one with the swing…”

“What swing?” Jaeyun nabs the book back and skim-reads the pages he missed upon first glance, making you laugh loudly.

This won’t be the end of your diary adventures. Not by a long shot.

You wonder if you can get him to consider Page 89…pegging.

_____

#enhypen smut #enha smut #jake smut #sim jaeyun smut #aj writes #enha x reader #enhypen x reader

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gardenwons · 10 months ago

Text

LET ME IN, PLEASE🥛

SYNOPSIS As the new doorman for the shabby apartment complex, you learn quickly to recognize imposters until eventually a cunning doppelganger entered the building—also making its way in you.

PAIRINGS: doppelganger!jungwon x doorman!reader

WARNINGS: smut with plot, dom!jungwon, making out, unprotected sex, breeding kink, praising, blood, lowkey mean won(?)

A/N: loosely based on "that's not my neighbor," was vv in love w/ the milkman pls he's a sweet boy and it was supposed to be seung but jw my love it is!

5 minutes till the end of shift.

And in the past few hours of your shift, the scene at the checkpoint remained tense yet controlled. Behind the desk, you tapped away as you await the next individual on the list. Hours had been spent meticulously weighing each resident’s reasons and paperwork, a task heavy on your shoulders each time.

You were startled by the sudden creak of the door, which swung open to reveal a tired-looking man. His eyes betrayed his exhaustion, yet he managed a weary smile as he approached the window. "Hello, here’s my ID," he said, placing it on the counter with an air of casualness, his gaze drifting away as he stifled a yawn. His hair, tousled beneath a hat that hinted at his profession.

You inspect his ID with a mix of weariness and curiosity. He seems new? you wonder to yourself, but quickly push the thought aside. "Entry request, please?" you ask, meeting his already fixed stare with a gentle smile as he hands over the necessary paperwork. "Ah, yes... forgot about it, sorry" he mutters apologetically. You accept the documents, scanning them carefully before glancing over to your left. "You’re not on today’s list?" you observe, noting a slight raise of his eyebrows as he shakes his head. "I'm supposed to be there? Probably an error" he mutters, his response prompting a hint of suspicion in your gaze.

Cautiously, you check his phone number and attempt to dial it. "I'm sorry, sir, but you must be on the list to be let–" Before you can finish, he interrupts, addressing you by name. "___?...right?" he questions, his lips forming a tight line as he pleads, "I'm really tired today. If you could just be a sweetheart and–" Suddenly, the phone rings, and you hastily pick it up, your heart skipping a beat as you hear the voice on the other end. "Hello? Jungwon speaking–" The realization hits you– how can the man in front of you look undetectable? His eyes lock onto yours as he blurts out, "Fuck." It's clear he knows he's been caught.

Shaking uncontrollably, you were on the verge of dialling the emergency number when he suddenly slammed his fist against the window, causing you to let out a scream. "Don’t make this hard for me now, angel" he said, his tone surprisingly gentle despite his earlier aggressive action. The encounter with this doppelganger was unlike anything you had experienced before – simultaneously strange and alluring, perhaps due to the handsome facade he wore, and god did he wear it well.

"Let me in or..." he trailed off, a glimmer of malice and lust flickering in his eyes as his lips curled into a smirk. "-I’ll let myself in." Despite the magnetic pull you felt towards him, and the undeniable surge of attraction coursing through your body, you pressed the emergency button. Watching as the metal wall descended, separating you from him. Jungwon's curses echoed loudly from behind the barrier as you continued to dial the D.D.D.

"You have contacted the D.D.D. A group of agents has been sent to your building" the automated voice informed, bringing a momentary sense of relief as you awaited assistance. But his next words shattered that peace. "You know I could kill them all and still get through to you, hm?" he taunted over the metal barriers, causing your heart to race even faster. "Or maybe that’s what you wanted?” Jungwon sighed, clenching your thighs together as you heard him chuckle. “Sweet girls like you shouldn’t play games like this" he scolded with a tsk, following with “It does however, make me want to devour you more”

Huddled in your seat, you listened as the agents rushed in, screams filling the air for what felt like an eternity. For what seemed like so many agonizing minutes later, silence fell upon the room. Trembling, you called out, receiving no response. With caution, you deactivated the emergency button, watching as the metal wall retracted, revealing a gruesome scene before you. Jungwon stood amidst the lifeless bodies of the yellow-suited agents, his back heaving with exhaustion. Blood covered his face and hands, dripping onto the ground.

Unable to find your voice, you watched in horror and awe as Jungwon approached your window, his eyes softened, ruby painted hands clasped together in a pleading gesture as he begged, "Please, I... I didn't mean to. I just wanted to go in." His lips formed a pout, his eyes glossy, yet his face was streaked with blood. Hat nowhere to be found, his hair was ruffled, with some strands sticking to his blood-stained face, "I know i messed up, just let me make it up to you inside" he continued pleading, his lips curving into a genuine smile as he sensed your resolve wavering. Despite the firmness in your stance, his appearance – bloodied, hair tousled, voice filled with desperation stirred something within you, whether you had a clear head you knew the heat was getting to you down there. He gestured toward the green button, the one that would unlock the door, his gaze unwavering as he directly addressed you. "Press that for me, please?" he instructed, as if your better judgment didn't matter. And at that moment, it didn't.

You found yourself slowly reaching for the unlock button, his presence casting a mesmerizing spell over you. "Ah, that’s my girl" Jungwon praised, his words sending a rush of heat to your cheeks. Yet, beneath his seemingly genuine appreciation, there lurked a sinister undertone, evident in the chuckle that escaped him as the doors clicked open.

Without hesitation, he winked at you and slipped inside, leaving you feeling breathless and foolish. "What have I done?" you muttered to yourself, but before you could fully grasp the weight of your actions, the door to the office swung open behind you. Turning, you found yourself face to face with the bloodied man once again, his eyes fixated on you like a predator sizing up its prey. A chill ran down your spine as he licked the stain of blood from his lips. "Can’t just leave without giving my girl a reward, can I?" he teased, his voice dripping with a dark promise.

As you instinctively reached for the nearest makeshift weapon, Jungwon's eyes rolled with a playful smirk. "Aren’t you adorable? If I wanted you dead, I would've done so earlier" he teased. Jungwon’s words hung heavy in the air as he advanced towards you, his expression softening into that same endearing pout.

"You've done so well for me, angel" he cooed, his arms enveloping yours, causing your heart to race as his scent enveloped you—metallic from the dried blood and musky, intoxicating in its allure. Leaning in, his hair falling gently over his eyes, he fixed his gaze on you, seeming to see right through you, transparent in your vulnerability.

"I could be yours, please let me in" he whispered, his lips brushing against yours, waiting for your consent.

Without hesitation, you pressed your lips to his, feeling him sigh contentedly against you. His hand slid to the back of your head, tangling in your hair as he gently pulled you closer. His lips trailed down your neck, leaving a warm path in their wake. Gripping your hair, he tugged on it, drawing a moan from your lips.

His lips continued their journey down your neck, each kiss growing more intense as his grip tightened on your hair, drawing you closer to him. Jungwon’s breath was hot against your skin, his mouth teasing the sensitive spots just below your ear, sending shivers down your spine. He adored the way your body reacted to him, the subtle arch of your back, the soft gasp that escaped your lips, it all fueled his desire. His other hand slipped down your side, fingers grazing over your curves, leaving a trail of fire in their graze.

As his lips found their way back to yours, his kiss became more demanding, his tongue slipping past your lips in a heated dance with yours. The taste of him so metallic, dark, and utterly intoxicating—clouded your senses, making it impossible to think clearly, to think logically. His hands were everywhere, exploring your body with a possessiveness that made your knees weak. Jungwon pushed you against the wall, his body pressed firmly against yours, the heat between you both intense. His hand slipped beneath your shirt, fingers brushing over your bare skin, sending waves of pleasure through you.

Jungwon broke the kiss, panting slightly as he gazed down at you with a mix of adoration and hunger in his eyes. "You feel so good, sweet angel" he murmured, his voice thick with lust as his hand slid lower, teasing the waistband of your pants. He gave you a wicked smile before slipping his hand beneath the fabric, finding your most sensitive spot with ease. His fingers moved with expert precision, thrusting in your walls, drawing out moans from you as he leaned in to kiss you again, swallowing every sound you made. The world outside ceased to exist as you lost yourself in his touch, the innocent people already forgotten as the intensity of your connection left you breathless and wanting more.

Jungwon's fingers moved with a skilled rhythm, each stroke sending jolts of pleasure through your body. His lips trailed along your jawline, nipping gently at your skin as he worked you closer to the edge. You could feel the tension building within you, your breathe coming in shallow gasps as his touch became more insistent, more demanding. He seemed to sense the exact moment when you were about to tip over the edge, pulling back slightly just to tease you, watching with dark, lustful eyes as you writhed in his arms, desperate for release.

A loud smack echoed through the room as his hand connected with your ass, his eyes glaring down at you. "Patience, angel" he whispered, his voice low and husky, filled with a dark amusement. He relished in your need, the way your body responded so eagerly to his touch. Maybe this was just as delicious as eating flesh. His thumb brushed over your clit, sending a shockwave of pleasure through you, making your knees buckle as he held you up against the wall. "I want to see you fall apart for me" he growled, his voice thick with desire as he pressed his lips against yours again, the kiss deep and consuming.

With a final, skilled flick of his fingers, he sent you spiraling into a powerful climax, your body shaking against his as you moaned his name. Jungwon watched with a satisfied smirk as you came undone in his arms, his hand never stopping its movements, drawing out every last bit of pleasure from your trembling body. When you finally came down from your high, he gently removed his hand, bringing it up to his lips as he licked his fingers clean, eyes locked onto yours with a possessive intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.

With a sudden, forceful grip, Jungwon spun you around, pressing your chest against the cold metal desk. His breath was hot against your neck as he yanked your skirt up, not wasting a moment before tearing away the thin fabric covering your core. "You're mine, aren't you?" he growled, his voice rough and filled with a dark hunger. You barely had time to respond before he thrust into you with no warning, filling you completely, the sharp pain mixing with pleasure as your body adjusted to his size.

"Fuck, you take me so well" he groaned, his hips snapping against you with a brutal pace, the sound of skin against skin filling the room. Each thrust was hard, merciless, and deep, driving you forward on the desk. His hand found your hair again, yanking your head back as he leaned down, his teeth grazing your ear. "You're going to take every drop of me, let me fill you up until you're dripping with me."

His words sent a shiver down your spine, the rough edge to his voice only heightening the intensity of the moment. Jungwon’s pace was relentless, every thrust pushing you closer to the edge. His grip on your hair tightened, pulling you back further as he forced you to arch, the angle driving him even deeper. "Good angel" he praised, though his tone carried a mocking edge, a smirk can be heard through it. "You love this, don't you? Being fucked like this, knowing I could fill you up right now” You could only moan in response, the overwhelming sensations rendering you speechless. The slickness of your arousal mixed with the occasional streak of blood from where his nails had dug into your skin, a reminder of the rawness of the situation. Jungwon’s other hand moved to grip your hip, his fingers digging into your flesh as he pounded into you intensely. "Say it" he commanded, his voice low and commanding. "Tell me you want it. Tell me you want to be filled, bred by me."

Your body was trembling, barely able to hold on as you gasped out the words he wanted to hear. "I want it" you managed to choke out between moans. "I want you to fill me up please" the coherent you would have pushed him away, clearly realizing this wasn’t even the real Jungwon.

A satisfied growl rumbled from his chest as he picked up the pace, slamming into you with enough force to make you see stars. "That’s right, angel" he groaned, his grip tightening as he drove you both towards the edge. "Take all of me. You’re going to be so full of me, there won't be any doubt who you belong to."

With a final deep thrust, he buried himself inside you, his body tensing as he released into you. The warmth of his seed filling you sent you over the edge, your body shaking around him as you climaxed, your cries of pleasure bouncing in the room. Even as the waves of pleasure washed over you, Jungwon stayed inside, his hands still gripping you possessively.

Breathless and spent, he leaned over you, pressing a kiss to the back of your neck, his voice soft but firm. "I knew you would taste so sweet" he murmured, leaning in to kiss you once more, his lips lingering on yours as he whispered, "And now... you're mine, angel." He stepped back, his eyes filled with dark satisfaction, the taste of you still on his lips as he gave you one last, lingering look before turning to leave. You watched him go, your body still trembling, cum dripping down you legs as your mind swirled with a mixture of fear, confusion, and disturbing attraction. The door closed behind him with a soft click, leaving you alone with the echoes of your own rapid breathing and the scent of him still clinging to your skin.

You slumped against the wall, trying to make sense of what had just happened, the reality of it slowly sinking in. You knew you should feel horrified, disgusted even, but all you could think about was the way he had made you feel, the dark, consuming passion that had ignited between you two. It terrified you, but at the same time, you couldn't deny the magnetic pull you felt towards him, a pull that had led you to do the unthinkable. As you slowly gathered yourself, your heart still racing, one thought lingered in your mind: this was far from over.

taglist:

@slvrnm @moonpri @jaheydane @mintdsunoo @yawnzzhoon

@ilovejungwonandhaechan

@sacrificeatmeup @beomluvrr

@uwudaizy @geraldsmochi

@ilovecats923 @millieinyourarea

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@enhypenlovre @jwonistic

@denleave1088 @seongiewon

#enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #jungwon scenarios #jungwon hard thoughts #jungwon hard hours #jungwon smut #jungwon x reader #jungwon enhypen #enhypen scenarios #enhypen au #jungwon #jw milkman #milkman #jungwon imagines

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ponderingmoonlight · 9 months ago

Note

Hello!! If you’re still taking requests I’d love to see a Nanami x Reader fic where the reader is pregnant but doesn’t realize yet but I’d like showing OBVIOUS symptoms and for Nanami to start to catch on to them, I don’t know if that’s like weird? 😭 Also I hope you’re doing good!!

THIS. IS. EVERYTHING.

Yeah, we're doing this right now

Nanami realizing you're pregnant before you do

Pairing: Nanami x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,2k

Synopsis: well, basically the request above hehe

Warnings: I mean, reader is pregnant lol, fluff fluff fluff, Nanami is just the greenest flag I can't, please tell me you enjoy this as much as I do, I LOVE THAT MAN

Lately, everything feels… off.

It's subtle at first. Mornings are harder than they used to be, a strange kind of sluggishness that lingers in your limbs no matter how much coffee you drink after waking up. Your back aches at the most random times. And don't even get started on the nausea that strikes out of nowhere, leaving you clutching the bathroom sink with trembling hands.

But, still, it doesn’t cross your mind - not at first.

Nanami’s been noticing though. He’s always been perceptive, sharp in the way he observes the world, but lately, his focus seems to rest more on you. It starts with the small things: a subtle glance as you push your breakfast away with a grimace, the way his brow furrows when you wince, pressing a hand to your lower back. He doesn’t ask you about it immediately, and you’re grateful for that. Nanami doesn’t rush things, never has. He knows you well enough to wait until the right moment.

Today, however, something is different.

It’s a quiet Saturday morning. You’re both in the kitchen, sunlight streaming through the curtains in soft beams. Nanami’s making coffee, his movements precise as always, while you sit at the kitchen table with your hands wrapped around a cup of ginger tea. You’ve been craving that instead of coffee these days, the rich scent of the brew turning your stomach in a way it never used to. To be honest, you’ve never been a tea drinker your whole life.

He’s noticed that too.

You yawn, stifling the sound behind your hand as you stretch in your chair. There’s a strange heaviness in your body, and the thought of going back to bed, even after a full night’s sleep, is oddly tempting. It’s the third time this week that the idea of a nap has crossed your mind before noon. You blink hard, forcing your eyes to focus, and turn to Nanami, who’s watching you over the rim of his cup.

“Are you feeling alright?” he questions, his tone neutral but his eyes searching.

“Yeah, why?” you respond, but your voice lacks its usual energy.

Even to your own ears, it sounds tired. You clear your throat and offer a small smile, hoping to brush off the question as well as the wave of concern that starts bubbling up your chest all over again.

“I’ve just been a little out of it lately, that’s all.”

Nanami places his cup down on the counter, his gaze never leaving your face.

“You’ve been ‘a little out of it’ for a while now, darling.”

There’s a weight to his words, a quiet concern that has your defenses rising instinctively. You sit up straighter, forcing a more convincing smile this time.

“I’m fine, really. Just tired. It’s probably work.”

It’s true, to some extent. Work has been stressful, the usual demands piling up, but this exhaustion feels… different. It’s deeper, sinking into your bones in a way that no amount of rest seems to fix.

Nanami doesn’t say anything right away, but you can feel him assessing you. His silence is almost louder than words. You know he won’t push you to talk, but his patience, the way he waits for you to come to your own conclusion, can be just as insistent.

You sigh, leaning back in your chair and rubbing at your eyes. There’s no way you’ll get out of this situation, not when your beloved boyfriend sits opposite of you with his calm but demanding orbs staring straight through your soul.

“I don’t know. Maybe I’m coming down with something?”

It’s a flimsy excuse, and you both know it. But before you can think of anything else to say, a wave of nausea hits you hard and fast, making you lurch forward. You press a hand to your mouth, eyes wide as the world tilts just slightly. Oh god, not again.

Nanami is at your side in an instant, his hand on your back, warm and grounding.

“Hey, hey… breathe,” he murmurs gently, his thumb rubbing small circles against your spine.

“It’s okay. Just breathe.”

You close your eyes and focus on the rhythm of your breathing, counting each inhale and exhale until the nausea begins to subside. Slowly, you sit back, wiping at your mouth with the back of your hand. The embarrassment is hot on your face, and you can’t quite meet Nanami’s eyes.

“I’m fine, Kento”, you mutter, though you can tell it sounds unconvincing.

Nanami’s hand is still on your back, his touch firm yet gentle. He doesn’t say anything, not yet. You know he’s waiting, giving you space to figure out what’s going on. But even through your haze of denial, a part of you knows the truth is starting to unravel.

“Does this happen often?”

His voice is calm, but there’s an undercurrent of something more. Something you can’t quite place.

You swallow hard, not sure how to answer.

“It’s just been the past couple of weeks,” you admit quietly.

“I think it’s stress. Maybe some kind of stomach bug?”

Nanami’s brow furrows slightly, and he crouches down beside your chair, his eyes searching your face with that same quiet intensity.

“Are there any other symptoms?”

Your mouth opens to say no, but then you stop, thinking back over the past few weeks. The tiredness, the nausea, the strange sensitivity to smells, your shifting moods - small things you’d brushed off or tried to ignore. But now, all at once, it feels like they’re adding up, slotting together in a way that you hadn’t considered before.

You glance down at your hand, the one resting on your stomach, and something inside you clicks.

Oh.

Nanami must notice the shift in your expression because his hand stills on your back.

“What is it?” he asks, his voice low and steady.

You swallow hard, the words catching in your throat before you finally manage to speak.

“I think… I might be pregnant.”

There. You’ve said it. And the weight of those words hangs heavy in the air between you, a truth you hadn’t been ready to acknowledge until now.

Kento doesn’t react immediately. His expression stays calm, though you can see the flicker of something in his eyes - surprise, perhaps, or maybe something more. Did he already suspect this? Is this why he pushed you to think about your symptoms further? Slowly, he straightens up, standing in front of you now as he takes a deep breath.

“Are you sure?”

You shake your head, feeling a little lost.

“I’m not. I… I hadn’t really thought about it until just now.”

The truth is, you hadn’t considered the possibility at all. With everything going on - work, life, the general busyness of existing, it hadn’t crossed your mind that this could be the reason behind everything you’ve been feeling.

But now that it’s out in the open, you can’t help but wonder how you missed the signs.

Nanami’s hand gently cups your chin, tilting your face up so that you’re looking at him. His gaze is steady, calm in a way that grounds you, just like always.

“Let’s not jump to conclusions yet,” he says quietly.

“But if you think there’s a chance…”

You nod, your throat suddenly tight.

“Yeah. There might be.”

For a long moment, neither of you says anything. The air between you feels thick with unspoken emotions, a quiet understanding settling between you. Nanami steps closer, his hand moving from your chin to cup your cheek instead, his thumb brushing against your skin.

“We’ll figure this out,” he murmurs, his voice soft.

“Together.”

The sincerity in his words washes over you, bringing with it a flood of emotions you hadn’t realized you were holding back. You blink, your vision blurring slightly as you reach up to cover his hand with yours.

“I’m scared,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

Nanami’s expression softens, and he leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“I know. But whatever happens, we’ll face it together. I promise” he mutters against your skin.

You nod, your heart swelling with a mix of fear, uncertainty, and something else, something warmer, softer. You aren’t alone in this. No matter what happens, you have your boyfriend by your side, steady and unshakable.

He pulls back slightly, his eyes meeting yours again.

“Do you want to take a test?” he asks, his voice careful, as if he’s gauging your readiness.

You hesitate, biting your lip.

“I… I don’t know. Maybe? I mean, I guess I should, right?”

Nanami nods, but he doesn’t push.

“Whenever you’re ready.”

The idea of taking a test feels overwhelming, like it would make everything real in a way you’re not sure you’re prepared for. But at the same time, the uncertainty is starting to weigh on you, the not knowing gnawing at the edges of your thoughts.

You take a deep breath, closing your eyes for a moment as you try to gather yourself. When you open them again, Nanami is still there, watching you with that quiet patience you’ve come to rely on so much.

“Okay,” you say finally, your voice trembling just a little.

“Okay. I’ll take a test.”

Nanami squeezes your hand gently, a reassuring presence beside you.

“I’ll go get one,” he offers, his tone calm and matter-of-fact, like he’s suggesting something as simple as picking up groceries.

You nod, feeling a little more settled now that a decision has been made.

“Yeah, okay. Thank you.”

He leans down, pressing another soft kiss to your forehead before pulling back.

“I’ll be back soon.”

With that, he grabs his keys and heads for the door, casting one last glance over his shoulder before he slips out into the hallway.

Once he’s gone, the quiet of the apartment feels almost too loud. You sit there for a long moment, staring at the cup of tea in front of you, your mind racing with thoughts you can’t quite hold onto.

Pregnant. You might be pregnant.

The idea feels too big, too surreal to grasp, and yet it’s there, lingering just at the edge of your awareness. A part of you is scared, terrified of the changes this could bring. But another part, a part you’re only just beginning to acknowledge, feels something else. Hope, maybe? Excitement? It’s hard to tell.

All you know for sure is that everything feels different now, that your whole life will be turned upside down if this test comes out positive.

When Nanami returns a short while later, test in hand, you take it from him with trembling fingers. He doesn’t say anything, just gives you a small, reassuring nod as you disappear into the bathroom.

The minutes that follow are some of the longest of your life. You pace back and forth in front of the sink, your heart pounding in your chest as you wait for the results. The silence feels deafening, and all you can do is focus on your breathing, trying to keep yourself calm.

Finally, the time is up. You glance down at the test, your breath catching in your throat as you read the result.

Positive.

You stare at it for a long moment, your mind struggling to process what you’re seeing. And then, slowly, the reality starts to sink in.

You’re pregnant.

With shaking hands, you open the bathroom door to find Nanami standing just outside, waiting. He looks up at you, his expression calm but expectant.

“Well?” he asks quietly.

You swallow hard, your voice catching in your throat as you hold up the test.

“It’s positive.”

For a moment, Nanami doesn’t say anything. His eyes flicker to the test in your hand, and then back to your face, his expression unreadable. And then, slowly, he steps forward, wrapping his arms around you in a gentle, grounding embrace.

“We’re going to be okay,” he murmurs against your hair.

“You’re going to be okay.”

And somehow, with his arms around you, you really believe him. Maybe you will be able to work this out. After all, you have none other than Kento Nanami by your side, right?

“Kento…”, you begin, the flood of sniffs and wild emotions now slowly but surely calming down.

“What is it, darling?”

“Did you…did you know?”

He sends a small smile your way while gently stroking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I couldn’t be sure. But after seeing you like this for a couple of weeks now, I had some suspicions”, he admits quietly.

You let out a huff.

“I can’t believe you realized it earlier than I did.”

“You are my life, (y/n). I notice every little thin about you.”

“And now you’ll be the father of a child”, you breathe out.

The words still feel strange while rolling off your tongue. Kento Nanami will be a father – the father of your child.

You are pregnant.

This is real.

“And I couldn’t ask for a better mother for my child.”

Tags:

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@ryva @kenjakusconcubine @baku2345 @komelrebi-san @deezy12299

@okay-it-is-ivy @paridoliaaa @cupcaketeddybehr @ryumurin

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nereidprinc3ss · 4 months ago

Text

you’re my best friend

in which spencer reid has to teach your young son how to make friends nicely after a day at the park gone awry

fluff!! warnings/tags: fem!reader, husband!spencer yum, boy dad spencer enters the nereidprinc3ss cinematic universe!!!! yayyy!! but you still have a baby daughter as well, Spencer would 100% give his children old people names I'm sorry, gentle parenting Spencer my beloved a/n: I really miss spring its my favorite season so I found this draft that feels very springy and it makes me very happy also.. the name... like queen... also this is old so its probably not winning a pulitzer

The sun beats down just shy of hot on the sheath of fresh grass where you and Spencer are comforting your crying son—the ground beneath your blanket is a lush, verdant carpet, still cool with springtime rain but not wet.

All of this pleasantry is lost on your son Oliver. He’s too focused on the scraped knee he sustained when he got pushed over on the wood chips. Marianne, your baby girl, is gurgling happily in her little bassinet next to you. Whoever said raising girls was harder had obviously never met the Reid siblings. Oliver is a drama queen—something you suspect he inherited from his father.

“See? All better,” your husband is saying, wedding band glinting as gold as the curls that fall to his eyes as he smooths a bandaid over Oli’s wound. Seeing him like this never gets old.

Oli’s crying chokes to a confused halt.

“It still hurts,” he complains.

“I’m sorry, buddy. But you shouldn’t’ve pushed.”

“I wanted to be her f-friend,” Oli says, his sweet little bow lips (all Spencer) beginning to pout again.

Your husband wipes Oliver’s already teary cheeks gently. “I know, but she didn’t know that. Not everybody likes to be pushed, even when you’re playing, because it’s kinda mean, isn’t it?”

“I was not being mean.”

“Do you push all your friends?”

“Sometimes,” Oliver says stormily. Spencer gives him a knowing look.

“Are you sure you didn’t push her just because she’s a girl?”

Little shoulders raise and drop heavily. Guilty.

“I know it’s sometimes hard to make friends with girls, but they generally don’t like being pushed. Not anymore than boys do. Maybe even less.”

“Then how do I make friends with them?”

Spencer considers this.

“Well… how do you usually make friends?”

“I ask if they wanna play.”

“Sounds like you already know how to make friends with girls, then. That’s all you have to do.”

“How did you be friends with mommy?” Oli asks, bunching the blanket in his little hand. You smile to yourself.

Spencer’s eyes flash up to you for only a second, his lips parted in what only you would recognize to be amusement.

“I was super nice to her. Me and mommy are really good friends, right?”

Oliver nods dutifully.

“Do you know why?”

A shake of his little curly head, this time.

“Because when you’re nice to someone, it usually makes them want to be your friend. Not always. But you have a much better chance that way. If I pushed mommy the first time we met, I don’t think we’d be here today.”

Your lips flatten to zip in a laugh. To Oliver, this is a very serious matter. To you, too. It’s important that he grows up to treat people well.

“Why not?”

Spencer dodges the question smoothly.

“Why don’t you try going to apologize to her? She might not want to talk to you, and that’s okay. But if you say you’re sorry, maybe you guys can play nicely together.”

This determines the already willful Oliver, who pushes up clumsily before running down the knoll on his short legs and approaching the swing set where his earlier assailant now plays alone. He stops far enough away that he can make a break for it if she gets a fixing to push him again. Smart boy.

You and Spencer observe the interaction carefully, and while you can’t hear what’s being said, things seem to go well. Soon they’re making their way to the little kid’s playground in tandem.

“Super nice, huh?”

“I really wanted to be your friend,” Spencer counters, scooting closer to Marianne’s bassinet. “Hi, angel,” he coos, demeanor instantly softening as he strokes her soft cheek. You can’t help smiling. The look in his eyes is truly something to behold. “God, I’m never gonna get over how much she looks like you.”

You preen and try to hide it. “You can’t possibly know that yet. Her skeletal structure is far from fully developed.”

“Uh oh,” Spencer says to Marianne, offering her a quarter of a strawberry from a Tupperware. “Mommy is starting to sound like me. Is that scary, or what?”

Marianne cackles and burbles and takes the fruit with her little clutching fingers, only missing her mouth the first time she tries to eat it.

“You’re so good at this,” you murmur thoughtlessly. The moment Oliver was born he’d been a natural. Earlier, even. You saw it in his eyes the second you tearfully told him you were pregnant. He’s a man of many gifts—and that extends to the way he parents.

His gaze turns to you, still just as soft, but more knowing, on you. It’s comforting, to be known and seen and loved like that.

“Couldn’t do it without you.”

“Corny,” you tease.

He shuffles on his knees to be closer to you. “Biologically factual.”

Your eyes flutter shut as he pulls you into him with an arm and presses a firm kiss to your head.

“Have I told you how much I appreciate you recently?” He murmurs into the quiet dark against your temple, shielded from the spring sun.

You’re melting in his hold, the way you always do. “Mhm.”

“Good. There’s nobody I’d rather be super nice to.”

You breathe him in—feel the rush of happy chemicals flood your brain.

“What if I pushed you?”

“You wouldn’t do that,” he asserts, pulling back and framing your face between his hands.

“But if I did.”

He regards you with narrowed eyes.

“Why? Am I in trouble?”

“Maybe.” But you say it too coyly. The corner of his mouth twitches.

“I’d forgive you,” Spencer murmurs, leaning in to press a kiss to your lips. “But if you want to be my friend, you can just ask, lovely.”

One more quick peck, and he’s situating himself to lay his head in your lap once more. You slide his sunglasses on for him once he’s settled, and he catches your hand, kissing your knuckles. Your lips twist.

“You make it so hard to want to push you. I need you to be mean.”

He laughs.

“Too bad. I like being nice to you.”

#spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic

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rafeysbangs · 6 months ago

Text

ྀིྀི⋆˚࿔↷frat!rafe stumbles into a room you're hiding in and suddenly, he's not as untouchable as you thought...

warnings ; not proofread ! angstttt, fluff if you squint, mentions/allusions to rafe being super high, sensitive!reader but not really, drinking, mentions of ward....eugh.

notes ; all this talk of angst fics made me just whip this up... enjoy! um if you can that is ... poor rafe

the pulsating bass from the speakers below reverberated through the walls, embodying the cacophony and disarray of the party. you had attended with the faint hope of explaining the acute sting of isolation, yet the atmosphere only worsened your sense of alienation. somewhere between observing your so-called friends laughing without you and the burn of vodka that failed to dull the ache, you slipped away, seeking refuge in a random upstairs room.

tears clouded your vision as you stared at your phone. the group chat buzzed with plans that excluded you. the exclusion was blatant, friends tagging one another in shared jokes, the humour opaque to you. the ache in your chest defied articulation, a weight that no amount of deep breaths could alleviate. you perched on the edge of an unfamiliar bed, trembling and endeavouring to stifle the sound of your sobs.

the door creaked open, the sound startlingly loud in the muffled cocoon you’d made for yourself.

“yo, what the f—” the voice was thick with inebriation, but the tone carried an undercurrent of irritation. you looked up sharply to find rafe cameron leaning in the doorway. his figure was the epitome of disheveled elegance, a boy who wore chaos like it was tailored for him. his eyes were glassy, pupils blown wide, and his shirt hung askew, a caricature of the golden boy image he wielded like a weapon.

“what are you doing in here?” your voice came out uneven, cracked like a porcelain vase hastily glued together. you hated the way it betrayed you.

he stepped fully into the room, shutting the door behind him with an air of finality. “nah, what're you doin' in here? crying? at a party?” the question hung in the air, the mockery in his tone as unsteady as his balance.

“just go away,” you managed, swiping angrily at your cheeks. it wasn’t a plea, it was a defence.

he didn’t leave. instead, he collapsed onto the bed beside you, the mattress dipping under his weight. for a long moment, he said nothing. the silence was louder than the bass below, filled with the heavy presence of unspoken thoughts. you wanted him to leave, but you couldn’t bring yourself to ask again. his presence was intrusive, but his silence was almost comforting, as though your misery had drawn out its mirror in him.

“it’s stupid,” you muttered, breaking the unbearable quiet. “you wouldn’t get it.”

his gaze flicked toward you, but he didn’t speak. his stillness was unnerving, like he was afraid that moving too suddenly would shatter whatever fragile tether kept him grounded.

“it’s just… it’s like no one even sees me. like i’m some kind of shadow in their perfect little worlds.” the words tumbled out, raw and unfiltered. you hated how small they sounded, how small you felt. “i’m there, but i’m not there. and it’s stupid, i know it’s stupid, but it still—it still hurts.”

his hand fidgeted in his lap, the faintest movement breaking his otherwise rigid posture. still, he didn’t speak. your frustration mounted, burning hotter than the tears.

“are you even listening?” you snapped, your voice cracking under the weight of your anger and humiliation. “or are you just sitting here so you can feel better about yourself?”

his head lifted at that, and for the first time, you saw something like pain flash across his features. it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by the stony mask he wore so well.

“i’m not judging you,” he said, his voice quiet but firm.

“then what are you doing?” you demanded. the words were a challenge, but they came out almost desperate.

he exhaled sharply, his hand dragging through his already tousled hair. “tryina figure out how to say something that won’t make this worse.”

“like what?” your skepticism was a shield, thin and fragile, but all you had.

he didn’t answer right away. when he finally spoke, his voice was low, barely audible over the muffled music from below. “it’s not perfect, y'know. my life. not even close.”

you blinked, caught off guard. “what?”

he leaned forward, elbows on his knees, his hands clasped together like he was holding himself in place. “you think i don’t get it. feeling like you’re not enough, like no matter what you do, you’re always falling short. but i do. trust me, i do.”

disbelief heavy in your tone. “you have everything. money, friends, girls throwing themselves at you. what could you possibly know about feeling like this?”

he let out a bitter laugh, the sound sharp and hollow. “none of that means shit. ward says i'm a disappointment, a- a failure..” his voice broke on the last word, and he swallowed hard, the movement sharp and jagged.

your heart twisted painfully at the rawness in his words. “rafe…” you began, but he cut you off with a sharp shake of his head.

“don’t,” he murmured, his voice fraying at the edges. “just don’t. i’m not saying this so you’ll feel sorry for me. i’m saying it because… because i get it. feeling like you’re drowning and no one even notices.”

the silence that followed was suffocating, heavy with the weight of everything unsaid. you wanted to reach out, to say something that would pull him back from whatever precipice he was teetering on, but the words wouldn’t come.

“you’re not invisible,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “and you’re not pathetic.”

the tears you’d been holding back spilled over, hot and unrelenting. “neither are you,” you said through the sobs, your voice trembling but sure.

he turned to look at you then, his eyes glassy and red-rimmed. for a moment, it felt like the world had stopped, the two of you suspended in this fragile, shared understanding.

“you shouldn’t drive,” you said after a long pause, your voice hoarse but steady. “let me take you home.”

he hesitated, his expression torn, before nodding. “yeah. okay.”

as you stood, he reached for your hand, his grip warm and grounding. neither of you spoke as you made your way to his car, the night air sharp and biting against your skin. the silence between you was no longer heavy, it was something else, something that felt almost like solace.

taglist ; @rafegetinmybed @sqfewrd @dreamyy-cloud @vampteeth @wtfisastiles @flvredcas @plaidcowboy @sematarygirls @slut4you @kravitzwhore @daryldixon83 @lexavanhuelee @dorcas4meadowes @foolishangelic ( feel free to ask to be added! idm! )

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cakypa120 · 2 months ago

Note

Billy and Danny are planning wedding with each other because of the observers

They consider Billy as a champion of magic to be too powerful by himself

And they consider Danny as the Ghost came in ancient space is being too powerful to be by himself

So they're married each other because apparently they balance each other out

Could Justice League because of this thing it's an arranged marriage that both of them are really unhappy with

It just them being unhappy with the observers especially Danny this could be tied in with the reverse Persephone thing

Like Billy is really happy with it because the gods are all supportive and Danny is dealing with her the butting heads in the fall of the ancients and observers

I may have misunderstood the question. Sorry(⁠ ⁠･ั⁠﹏⁠･ั⁠)

Marvel: You're invited to my and the Phantom's wedding! *holds out invitations to each hero*

Barry: What do you mean you're not married?!

Marvel: It was just an engagement. You know, meeting the parents and stuff. The Observants were really pushing for us to get married. Something about balance, I think.

Batman: The Observants?

Marvel: Yeah, those idiots.

Danny: *hisses* Why are you jumping in ahead of time?!

Observants: Danny Fenton and Billy Batson may not be married yet....

Observants: But Phantom and Captain Marvel should get married....

Observants: For the balance of the universe.

Danny: *covers face with hands and groans*

Observants: *wait calmly*

That's not how Danny wanted to marry Billy. He was planning something romantic, and only when he graduated. Only the Observers disrupted all his plans. Danny was then grabbed by the arms and placed in front of Billy. Then the Observers said that the engagement had been approved and the wedding date had already been chosen. It was a shock to Billy, but it was Danny who was most shocked.

Phantom: They didn't give me a choice, you know? I wanted everything to be romantic. So that the one I love is really admired. But they bring me to him and tell me that everything has already been decided!

Superman: This is terrible! Why did they do this to you?

Phantom: Like I know. They're all assholes who don't respect anyone. It's good that Marvel understood me when I explained everything to him.

Superman thought that the Phantom was being forced into an engagement with Marvel. And the fact that these two are not very happy about it. Clark now disliked the Observants a little for what they had done to Phantom and Marvel. Forced marriage is always very bad.

While Danny was fighting with the Observants, Billy was very happy that he was marrying Danny. That is, Captain Marvel marries the Phantom. But Billy is Captain Marvel, so it's okay. Today the Captain and the Phantom, tomorrow Billy and Danny. He considered it a victory.

Zeus: I can ask Dionysus to provide alcohol.

Solomon: We want to celebrate quietly, and not turn everything into a binge and an orgy.

Achilles: We should have a fight with the Observants as a competition.

Hercules: I agree. You can also beat Adam.

Atlas: Isn't he our best man?

Mercury: Billy's best man, Marvel's punching bag.

Billy: Guys, we were choosing a menu.

Persephone: Why didn't anyone tell me that my beloved nephew was getting married?!!?

Hades: Run, you fools!!

Preparations for the wedding were in full swing. Billy and Danny were going crazy over the preparations. The league was going crazy about the upcoming wedding. The observers made sure that everything went well.

On the wedding day, Marvel had a lot more gold hanging on him than before and his whole appearance was more majestic. The phantom was blinding in its beauty. A ring of rage glittered on his finger and a crown of fire burned with a green flame. Phantom and Marvel looked great together, as if they were made for each other. As much as the League dislikes this marriage, they admit that Phantom and Marvel balanced each other out.

The ceremony begins.....

....Another alien invasion is taking place on Earth.

It's like a wedding without a fight, right?

#billy batson #dc captain marvel #dcu #captain marvel #shazam #fawcett city #jl #danny phantom #danny fenton #dc x dp #dc×dp #dying sparks

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mononijikayu · 17 days ago

Text

cry baby — gojo satoru.

"You're trembling." you said, glancing at the tall, jittery man beside you. "I am not, I am…I’m not really!" Satoru replied indignantly, though his knee bounced at a speed that could launch satellites. "I’m just… alert. Observant. Ready for anything." You side-eyed him. “You're literally afraid of a five-second injection.” “I’m not afraid!” he scoffed at you, trying to act so strongly. “He might be. I’m empathizing. It’s called being a compassionate father. Look it up, will you?”

GENRE: post hidden - post inventory arc (2010s)

WARNING/S: domesticity, fluff, angst, trauma, implied death, violence, romance, hurt/comfort, character death depiction of death, depictions of loss and depression, mention of pregnancy, depiction of the aftermath of birth, depiction of parenthood, depiction of blood, depiction of killing, depiction of suffering, depiction of anxiety, mention of death, mention of grief, profanity, family drama;

WORD COUNT: 3k

NOTE: indulging myself on the idea that gojo satoru is the type of dad to be a cry baby when it comes to his kids. i feel like he's the very emotional, very tender father. and i wanted to write it. anyway, i hope you enjoy it a lot <3

masterlist

u s and t h e m

if you want to, tip! <3

IF HE WAS BEING HONEST, GOJO SATORU KNEW HE HAS SEEN THE WORLD HAS TO OFFER. He’s seen and fought curses that tear people apart. He's known the many betrayals from all his allies, powerful or not.

He's known the fragility of life in its ugliest forms. Of course, if that was the case, he knew he would have been quite a different man. But this was a different matter entirely.

You knew that the moment your son was born, your husband would be more of a different man. Your young boy was the most important blessing in your lives, after all.

When it comes to his son, his precious baby boy, his beautiful and brightly shining Satoshi, everyone just knows that Gojo Satoru becomes a mess.

You had always known that protectiveness becomes instinctual, it comes with the word parent. Your husband can fight a thousand curses without blinking, but the moment a nurse walks into the room holding a syringe?

He’s sweating bullets. This was how he was now he has become a father. He’s become more overbearing than when Satoshi was a baby. Perhaps even more than you.

It’s not that he doesn’t trust medicine at all. He does, very much so. Logically. Intellectually. He knows that it’s safe, and science proves it. Yet, Satoru completely explained it to you before. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have approved for his little boy to get the medicine.

But emotionally? He’d rather swap places with his son in a heartbeat than let Gojo Satoshi feel a moment of discomfort. He would rather feel every inch of pain than see his precious little boy cry in his arms with such a miserable face.

At doctor’s appointments, he’s that parent. The one hovering too close. Asking too many questions. Looking up medical journals five minutes before the appointment and citing studies the pediatrician already knows.

He’s Gojo Satoru, so of course he thinks he knows better about all of this. Even when the poor nurse just wants to give Satoshi a routine vaccine.

And the irony of it all is that you’re the calm one. Level-headed. Reassuring. You’re the one who gently keeps Satoshi distracted with a lollipop or a little toy while Gojo Satoru paces behind you like a caged tiger in his Gucci tracksuit.

You don’t wanna judge your husband, though. Maybe it comes with being a Zeni’n. Your father was the opposite of every other Zeni’n out in the world. He was a gentle sort of man, jovial and tender too.

But he too didn’t bat an eye when you were getting the injection or when you scrapped your knee or even when you ended up injuring yourself during training.

Though come to think of it, your mother was the same too…..Maybe it was just a familial trait for you to not feel like its the end of the world to see your little one face the world one step at a time. Starting with a needle.

The pediatrician’s office smelled faintly of disinfectant and bubblegum stickers. Little Satoshi somehow has become fond of the smell, which your husband was rather horrified about. You were used to it by now, though.

Six year old Gojo Satoshi checkups were always like clockwork. It was rather easy, almost too easily the routine that comes once every few months. They were supposed to be done within thirty minutes, maybe even less. At least, they were supposed to be. Instead, they never are what they should be.

"You're trembling." you said, glancing at the tall, jittery man beside you.

"I am not, I am…I’m not really!" Satoru replied indignantly, though his knee bounced at a speed that could launch satellites. "I’m just… alert. Observant. Ready for anything."

You side-eyed him. “You're literally afraid of a five-second injection.”

“I’m not afraid!” he scoffed at you, trying to act so strongly. “He might be. I’m empathizing. It’s called being a compassionate father. Look it up, will you?”

Across the room, Gojo Satoshi was perfectly unbothered, legs swinging off the exam table, face buried in a dinosaur book the nurse had handed him. You leaned back in your chair, amused. The precious young master of the Gojo clan seemed to be enjoying himself.

Young master Gojo Satoshi is sitting on the exam table, swinging his legs. Brave. Calm. Almost eerily relaxed, considering his dad is pacing like the world is ending. The little boy started humming to himself. You were quick to pick up on the Digimon soundtrack.

“Son, how can you be this calm?” Satoru cried out. “You’re getting needles on you! Ah, this is a bad idea!”

“It’s one needle, 'toru.” You shake your head at your husband. "He’s fine. You’re the one breaking a sweat."

"I'm just saying!" Satoru muttered, voice dropping to a hiss. "Needles are unnecessary. Painful. Medieval. There are better ways. I could reverse-engineer a technique that boosts immunity naturally. Something with cursed energy and kale."

You gave him a look. “You're not turning our son into a science experiment.”

"Technically, it’d be a wellness experiment—"

The door opened, and the nurse stepped in with a warm smile and a tray in hand. “Okay, Satoshi-kun! Just one quick poke and you’re all set, sweetie.”

Gojo Satoru shot to his feet like she’d entered with a grenade. “Wait, wait—what’s in that? Let me see the vial. Is that a fresh needle? Did it come out of a sealed pack? What about his arm, should we ice it first—?”

"Gojo Satoru.” Your voice was gentle but firm.

He glanced at you. Then at Satoshi. Then at the needle. Then back at you. Gojo Satoru felt like he was outmatched by the Zen'in blood in both of you for a second.

Satoshi rolled up his sleeve without a word. “I want the dinosaur sticker, miss nurse!”

“Well, we will definitely have to give you one! Since you’re a brave boy, no?” The nurse smiled, swabbed his arm, and in one smooth motion, it was done.

"Are we finished now, miss nurse?" Satoshi asked, beaming bright. "I want the Doraemon stickers!"

"We don't have Doraemon right now." The nurse retorted back to him, looking through the drawer for a band-aid. "How about Pokemon?"

"Wah, if there's a Steelix, hand it over, please!" He replies all too jolly, leaning forward.

"Alright, there's some here." She says to him. "But let's be patient. I need to put a band-aid on you before I go on and give you some stickers."

"Okay!"

Satoru blinked. “That’s it?”

“All done!” the nurse chirped, sticking a band-aid over the injection site.

Satoru was pale. “Are you sure? I remember this being longer.....And he didn’t even flinch…”

You ruffled your son's hair. “Because he’s braver than his papa.”

Satoru dropped to his knees beside the table and took Satoshi’s hands in both of his hands, his son enjoying the Pokemon stickers. “You’re a warrior. A legend. My strong little man. I’m so proud.”

Satoshi looked unimpressed at his father’s sudden burst of pride. He looks up as he pockets the stickers. “Can I get the ice cream now?”

Satoru sprang up. “Yes. Absolutely. Two scoops. No, three. And whipped cream. And gummies.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You’re going to spoil him if you keep doing this, 'toru.”

“I should spoil him. He’s a hero. Did you see him? He just stared a sharp piece of metal in the eye and didn’t even blink. That’s our son, babe.”

The nurse chuckled. “Would Dad like a sticker too?”

Satoru turned slowly toward her, dead serious. “…Do you have any with pandas?”

"I think so." The nurse says to him in reply. "Are you sure you don't want Pokemon?"

Satoru scoffed. "I'm a Digimon stan."

Soon after, they were in the car travelling to Satoshi's favorite ice-cream joint. It wasn't that far from the hospital which was good since you wouldn't have to drive very far.

When you arrived, your husband all but ordered so fast. Then started bragging about how brave Satoshi is, and Satoshi started to brag about his Pokemon stickers. It was a lot but the dream of ice-cream felt worth it.

A little while after that, you were walking out with a sugar-high Gojo Satoshi clutching more stickers from the ice-cream shop in one hand and a bubblegum ice cream on the other hand. He was grinning from ear to ear.

Gojo Satoru kept glancing down at his son's arm, where the nurse had playfully slapped a panda sticker. You looped your arm around his, trying to get him out of that worried trance.

“Are you good now?”

“I wasn’t not good before, I suppose…..” he replied, then paused. “Okay, maybe I was a little stressed.”

You smirked. “Just a little?”

“Fine. A lot. Happy?”

You leaned up to kiss his cheek. “Very.”

He grinned, finally relaxing. “I just want him safe. That’s all.”

“I know that.” you whispered. “And he is.”

He glanced down at precious son, Satoshi, who was all but skipping ahead of you both, already excitedly talking about where he'll put his new favorite stickers. Gojo Satoru's smile softened, full of warmth at the joy his son was feeling.

“Yeah, yeah.” he said quietly. “He really is.”

EVERYTHING WENT BY TOO FAST. But it started innocently enough. Fushiguro Tsumiki had been cleaning out the storage closet when she found a dusty old camcorder tucked behind a box of outdated holiday decorations.

Of course, that led to her brother, Fushiguro Megumi, to go and dig out the charger almost just as quickly. You encouraged them, finding yourself excited to see what would come up in the camcorder.

And before you knew it, your massive living room had turned into an impromptu family theater to enjoy a little bit of a movie night while Satoru was on break. Of course, it was complete with various kinds of popcorn, all of the floor cushions, and everyone’s curiosity dialed to max.

"These are from when Satoshi was born, I think." you said, settling onto the couch.

Satoru flopped beside you, smug. "Prepare to witness peak fatherhood, everyone."

Megumi shook his head. “I doubt it.”

“Hey, don’t doubt your father like that!”

“You aren’t my dad.”

“Hm….That’s just to save face, I totally get that!”

“How did you even get to that conclusion?”

Tsumiki giggled at their commotion and soon hit play. The screen blinked to life, grainy but colorful, showing newborn Gojo Satoshi swaddled in a too-big hospital blanket.

A much younger Gojo Satoru appeared onscreen. One could see his signature blindfold pulled up onto his forehead, hair a mess, face exhausted but beaming.

Satoshi grinned. "That's me! Look at me, I'm so.....I'm so small, so cute!"

"You were that, kiddo." Satoru laughed, looking at the clip again. "Ah, it was just like yesterday all over again."

"Everything about that day was so memorable, it was just....Nothing could ever be like that again." You admitted to them, leaning back into the couch. "It's unexplainable, you know? Being there, it was just too much."

You all cooed appropriately when Satoshi's lips quivered into a small pout. Even Megumi who did it so discreetly. Satoru puffed up with pride.

“Look at my little jelly bean! He was so tiny!”

“Like, terrifyingly tiny, truly.” you added, smiling fondly at the screen. “I kept checking to make sure he was breathing.”

“And I kept checking to make sure you were breathing too.” Satoru chimed in, throwing an arm lazily across the back of the couch behind you. “You were so out of it, I thought I’d have to run diagnostics.”

“I had just pushed a whole human being out of my body, you know. Rather harshly, if I may say so myself.”

“A tiny, perfect human being, with all your will power, which I adore about you.” he said, undeterred as he kisses your hand. “Though, he has my impeccable cheekbones the moment he was born, for sure.”

“Cheekbones?” Megumi muttered, deadpan. “He looked like a potato.”

Tsumiki covered her mouth to stifle a laugh. “A cute potato.”

“Thank you, 'miki!” Satoru said, pointing at her dramatically. “Finally, someone with taste in this family.”

The video continued: hospital lighting, that sterile tint softening as the camera adjusted. Onscreen, you were in bed, hair a little plastered to your forehead.

Your eyes bleary but full of something too tender for words. Satoru sat beside you, cradling Satoshi in his arms like he was holding the very first star ever born.

“I was so scared I’d break him, you know?” Satoru murmured suddenly, quieter now. His voice, both onscreen and beside you, had dipped. “But then he grabbed my finger and didn’t let go. Like he was already telling me to get it together.”

“He did that to me too!” you whispered, leaning into his shoulder. “Even then, he had you wrapped around his little finger.”

“I am not ashamed about that at all.” Satoru said proudly. “I would go to war for that baby.”

“You cried, didn't you?” Megumi pointed out, as the video showed a very misty-eyed Satoru trying to pretend he wasn’t misty-eyed.

“I was moved, okay? It’s called emotional maturity.”

“It’s called being dramatic.” Megumi replied.

“I am dramatic.” Satoru declared. “And a fantastic father.”

The camera angle shifted as the nurse behind it said something about the first injection, and on cue, you and Satoru visibly tensed. Everyone on the couch hushed, watching the past version of you both steel yourselves while baby Satoshi squirmed gently in your arms.

“You were ready to punch the nurse, weren't you?” you said softly, laughing.

“She was a nice nurse!” he defended, throwing up his hands. “But yeah, I was ready to fight. That needle looked like a sword to me.”

“I had to remind him it wasn’t a duel!” you said to the kids.

Onscreen now, Gojo Satoshi let out a shrill cry at the prick, and real-time Satoru winced all over again, clutching his chest dramatically. Tsumiki let out an awestruck sound, while Megumi was just intently watching everything, like he was memorizing it.

“I felt that.” he said, slumping sideways until his head rested in your lap. “That day shaved years off my life.”

“Yet here you are, fully recovered and annoying as ever.” Megumi said.

Tsumiki leaned forward, smiling. “But it’s kinda sweet. I mean… seeing you like that.”

Satoru grinned up at you. “See? Told you I peaked early.”

You rolled your eyes, brushing your fingers through his hair absently. “You haven’t peaked. You’re still climbing.”

He caught your hand in his and pressed a kiss to your knuckles. “Then I’ll keep climbing as long as you’re with me.”

Megumi groaned. “Can I leave now?”

“Nope.” Tsumiki said, patting his shoulder with a teasing grin. “You’re part of this dysfunctional sentimental family now. No escape.”

"Megu-nii! Please stay." Satoshi said, almost standing up to go to Megumi.

"H—" Megumi lets out a sound as he saw Satoshi's bright eyes. He gulped. He knows he can't say no to him, after all. ".....Fine, I'll stay."

"Yay!" Satoshi cheered, getting back to his comfortable position once again.

"Oh, I think the clip is changing again." You say as the video ends. You looked at Satoru. "Weren't there multiple reels here?"

".....I think so, i don't really remember." He admits to you. "I mean, we did take a lot of footage. I just don't remember which this upcoming one is."

“Alright, Satoru!” Ieri Shoko’s voice was in the back, likely holding a camera as the new video starts. “Stop crying already!”

“Can you not right now, Sho? I’m nervous here!” Satoru’s voice comes into the zone. “I hate you! This is the worst day of my life and you’re being cheery about this.”

“Yeah, your misery is my business too, big baby.”

“Now, now.” Your voice ended up following suit. “I don’t think you should be doing this here—”

“But she started it!”

“Yeah, yeah! Cry baby!”

“Sho–”

“Oh, it’s auntie Shoko!” Tsumiki cheers as she hears the voice. “I didn’t know she was there.”

You nodded at her with a small smile. “Yeah, she drove us there since she was the one who knew the doctor who did Satoshi’s injections.”

“Gojo–sensei losing it is hilarious.”

“Megumi, you really have no mercy for your father?”

“Again, you’re not my dad!”

Tsumiki looked at you. “But wait, where were we when you guys were at the hospital with ‘toshi?”

“You were with grandma, she picked you up from school too.” You said, patting her head. “She made those muffins with you, remember?”

“Oh, that’s right!”

Satoshi’s mouth went agape, eyes opened wide. “But I look so small, don’t I? I could fit in your hands so fully!”

“You did.” Satoru nodded at his son, letting himself stare at him fondly. Even when he wasn’t going to look back to him. “You truly did fit in my arms, because you were so tiny.”

“Ehhhh, but now I’m big!”

“That you are.” You giggle, patting his head as you gaze at his enthusiasm at the screen. "Too big to be in my arms like that."

Then the screen cut to a new scene: a shaky shot of a baby clinic, the kind with pastel animal decals peeling slightly at the edges and a faint antiseptic smell you could almost imagine through the screen.

Gojo Satoshi, just a few months old, lay bundled in a soft blue blanket on the exam table, cooing obliviously at the mobile spinning above him.

Shoko slowly let the camera lingered on his tiny face, round and pink with sleep, then panned shakily to Satoru. Still pacing, anxious, out of place in a world of lullabies and latex gloves.

You were in the frame too, half-seated on the plastic chair beside the table, one hand gently smoothing the blanket over Satoshi’s legs, the other reaching instinctively for Satoru’s sleeve each time he passed close enough.

He kept walking, hands in the pockets of his hoodie, jaw tight, bright blue eyes flicking from the baby to the nurse prepping the syringe. He looked almost like he was the one who's getting the shot.

“He’s too little for this.” Satoru muttered under his breath.

You offered a small, tired smile. “He’s supposed to be little. He’s a baby.”

“Yeah, Satoru, calm down.” Shoko says behind the camera once again. “It's not like he's going to be angry about it for the rest of his life.”

“That’s exactly my point! He could feel like that!” he whispered, crouching beside you, peering over the edge of the table to look at Satoshi. “Look at him. He trusts us. He has no idea what’s about to happen.”

“He’s getting a vaccine, not a betrayal.” you replied, voice low, teasing, but not unkind. "It's for his health, he'll understand."

You were trying to hold steady for both of them, especially with Shoko pushing Satoru’s button too. Your baby and your husband, who looked more panicked than either of you had ever seen him during exorcisms or emergencies.

The nurse came over, cheerful in the way professionals are when they know something small is going to hurt. “Okay, Mom and Dad, this’ll be quick. Just a little pinch.”

Satoru stood up so fast his chair scraped backwards. “Wait—should I hold him? Or should you? No, you’re better with��actually, maybe I should—”

“I’ll hold him, don’t worry.” you said gently, lifting Satoshi and cradling him to your chest, careful to leave one thigh exposed as instructed.

Satoshi blinked up at you, unaware, still calm. Satoru hovered, arms twitching like he couldn’t decide where to put them. He looked at Shoko for a moment and then you.But then quickly stared at his son, more warmly than ever before.

He crouched closer to you again, face closer to his son. He finds himself whispering at him, “You got this, little guy. You're stronger than your old man, I can already tell.”

The needle went in. Satoshi’s face scrunched. His bright blue eyes screwed shut. A second passed. Shoko points the camera at Satoru’s face. Almost instantly, there was that resounding wail. That tiny, sharp, helpless cry pierced straight through you.

Gojo Satoru flinched like he’d been struck. You rocked Satoshi immediately, whispering into his ear, shushing, soothing, kissing the crown of his head. Satoru reached out a hesitant hand to touch the baby’s arm, then pulled back like he wasn’t sure he had the right.

“He’s okay.” you said softly, your own throat tight. “He’s okay, Satoru.”

“I wasn’t ready for that sound. Oh my god. I feel like crying....holy—” he said, sitting beside you, shoulders folding inward like someone who’d taken a punch. “That… that shouldn’t be allowed. Babies shouldn’t cry like that. I feel like I need to fight someone.”

“Fight the syringe?” you teased, brushing your cheek against Satoshi’s. “I think the nurse already won.”

Satoru exhaled a half-laugh, half-sigh. “I should’ve held him. I should’ve done something.”

“You’re here. That’s everything already, you know?” you said, and turned so he could see Satoshi’s face, already settling, eyes blinking drowsily again, the wail fading to hiccups. “Look. He’s already forgiving us.”

Satoru leaned in, resting his forehead briefly against yours, and then against the side of Satoshi’s soft little head. “I’ll make it up to you, kid.” he whispered. “Ice cream. At six months. Or sooner. I’ll figure it out.”

Shoko laughed, more fondly than ever before. “Now, that’s just promising to spoil him the way you were.”

“Of course, my kid deserves the whole world!” Satoru retorts back to his friend. “I’ll spoil him rotten!”

“Now, let’s not get ahead of ourselves, hm?”

The camera zoomed out, capturing the three of you: a little family, wrapped around one small moment that, later, would become legend.

The day Gojo Satoru learned what helplessness really felt like and how deeply he could love something, someone. And that had changed his entire world. Just as much as it did yours.

The footage trembled slightly, then faded to black. You let out a small sigh and looked at your husband who was just shaking his head. His gaze trailed at you, leading to him shaking his head soon after.

Tsumiki burst out laughing. “Oh my god, you were losing it, Satoru–san!”

"Now, don't get too happy about that, 'miki! I was a wreck!"

"Was that snot falling down your nose?"

"Megumi!? I would never!"

"But there was some, I saw it—"

On the lower echelons of the sofa couch, you started to notice sniffing. Your face scrunches. You turned to your son. All the sudden, Satoshi’s bottom lip trembled.

“Wait, are you crying? Are you okay, Sato-kun?”

The six-year-old wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. “Papa loved me so much… Papa! Papa, you loved Satoshi so much?”

Satoru immediately swooped in, pulling Satoshi into his lap. “Of course I did! I do! You’re my whole world, buddy!”

You leaned over, rested your chin on Satoru’s shoulder, and whispered, “You were crying more than the baby.”

Satoru looked at you, eyes wide. “That was a vulnerable moment, okay? I was being emotionally transparent. And you and Shoko were filming me instead of comforting me, by the way.”

You smirked. “Oh, I comforted the one who needed it most and that is my precious Gojo Satoshi.”

"But I'm also your precious husband!" Satoru pouted.

"Hm, but that's another thing."

"Hah!? No, it's not!"

Tsumiki giggled, shaking her head. “This is so going in the family group chat.”

“No, don’t!” Satoru shakes his head. “Your auntie Shoko’s going to make fun of me again! After I put it all behind me, you're giving her more ammunition!”

“Good.” Megumi crossed his arms but smirked faintly. “I mean, I always knew you were dramatic about being a dad. I just didn’t know it started this early in Satoshi’s life.”

Satoshi sniffled into Satoru’s shirt. “It’s okay, Papa. I don’t remember the betrayal.”

Satoru gasped. “See?! He knew!”

You rolled your eyes affectionately, placing a kiss on your husband’s temple. “You big softie.”

He pouted. “You’re lucky I’m cute for you and only you, hm?”

“Luck’s got nothing to do with it, hm.” you said, eyes twinkling. “It’s a curse I bear. A very loud, very overprotective, very sticker-loving curse.”

Satoshi, now fully recovered, perked up. “Do I get a sticker for crying this time?”

Satoru grinned. “We all get stickers tonight.”

333 notes · View notes

speed-world · 6 months ago

Note

Hello!! If it's not too much to ask, can you write a cookie run kingdom au where y/n is a traveler? I just think that's the most logical way to somehow get them involved into stories and meet different cookies altogether. Maybe a few scenarios in which involve their encounters with the ancients before the main plot of crk?

A cookie stood with his sheep, observing the lands before him in silence as the winds howled and blew beside him. He was making his last few preparations before his journey, but as he turned around, he saw an unfamiliar face that appeared to be in awe of the lands much like he was…

“Oh, pardon me, but I’ve never seen a cookie like you before. You look so incredibly well and unbothered, may I ask if you have a secret to keeping your dough so healthy?”

“Oh, me? Hehe, I don’t think I have any ‘secret’ to my healthy or anything like that. I’m simply a traveler wandering Earthbread.”

“Really? So am I! I’ll be taking a pilgrimage to the Sugar-Free Road, and complete its 12 trials. What about you, where are you headed?”

“Wherever the earth and winds take me, I suppose. I don’t have a destination in mind, per se, but I’m so interested in exploring the marvelous depths across every corner of Earthbread! But, if you don’t mind me asking, what makes you want to venture to the Sugar-Free Road alone? Surely those trials can’t be the only reason.”

“You sound like you’ve been there before, is there something I should be aware of before I go?”

“Yeah, maybe don’t go by yourself. It’s a treacherous path that’ll leave you wishing you never went. I myself turned back when I was there because of how worn out I was. I would want to go back sometime, especially since I feel more accustomed to traveling to do so, but doing so alone is not something I’m doing again.”

“I see…well to answer your question, I strive to find the truth as to why cookies - those crumbling, incomplete, and not-so-sweet - all must suffer so. I wish for all beings of dough to be happy, and that is I will accept those trials. Hopefully I’ll find the answers I’m looking for at the end of the path.”

“That’s…that’s actually really nice! I respect that a lot, and I kinda feel the same way; wanting everyone to not suffer. But you won’t do well by yourself, would you mind if I tag along?”

“Really? Are you sure my goals won’t get in the way of yours?”

“Nah, of course not! You get to complete the trials and, hopefully, find your answers, while I get to see everything of the Sugar-Free Road and document it! Plus, I get to make a new friend too!”

“New friend..? Ahaha, I’m honored to call you friend too! My name is Pure Vanilla Cookie, and you are?”

“Y/N Cookie, a pleasure to meet ya Pure Vanilla Cookie!”

“Likewise, Y/N Cookie. I’m glad we’ll take this journey together!”

————————————————————————

The screeching roar of a dragon fills the air as it gradually got more distant. The dragon’s pursuer was aggravated, but still determined…

“Huff…huff…darn that dragon getting away, again!! I think I’m starting to loose count, is this the 80th time? No, it can’t have been that much…..argghh—! No matter, I’ll keep hunting it down and—!”

The bushes ahead of Hollyberry Cookie rustle as an astonished cookie stepped out, and looked to the sky where the dragon flew off. They were completely in awe and wanted to get a better look at the majestic creature.

“Woah!! Was that a dragon just now? I’ve seen glimpses of them on my travels, but that one was so close!! This could be a chance to really meet a dragon, maybe even feel its scales!! Hahaha, I gotta go now and—“

“Hey, hold it right there!”

“Huh? Oh, hey there! Are you after the dragon too?”

“That’s one way to put it; I’m hunting that dragon. I need to defeat it for the trouble its caused the Hollyberry Kingdom!”

“Oh my, I had no idea. I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It’s quite alright, that dragon won’t escape me so easily! But, what brings you out here? And why do you want to see that dragon?”

“Ah, well I’m a traveler, you see? I want to explore every neat corner of Earthbread and all the specialties in between!”

“Really now? Interesting, it’s been awhile since I’ve met such an adventurous cookie like myself! I’m Hollyberry Cookie, pleased to meet you friend!”

“Y/N Cookie, the pleasure is all mine Hollyberry Cookie!”

“Well Y/N Cookie, what do you say we go hunting this dragon together? It’s always more fun to travel with a partner, and I’ll promise you to see every bit of the dragon up close!”

“For real?! Awesome!! Ohohoho, this is gonna be fun, I can’t wait to go!”

“Why don’t you tell me about your travels on the way? I’ll, of course, share you many of my own! I’ll even treat you to the finest berry juice my kingdom has to offer when it’s over!”

“Why thank you! I’ve never had berry juice from the Hollyberry Kingdom before, I can’t wait!!”

“It will be the finest you’ve ever had, you wouldn’t want any other! This is already becoming a fine adventure, hahaha!!”

————————————————————————

Black lightning and dark clouds...What's next, a blizzard that freezes your very breath? The scale of the anomalies is growing. The Cookies in the Frozen Snowfield are perishing one by one. While it seems logical for any cookie to avoid venturing out to such an extreme treacherous environment, two cookies were individually hiking up anyways. Although for their own reasons, their ambitions may align with one another’s….

“Hmm? Oh hey there, I wasn’t expecting any company here!”

“Neither was I…are you a cookie from one of villages affected by the blizzards?”

“Me? Oh no, I’m just a traveler passing by to witness something spectacular!! Here, listen closely—“

“Grrrrrr…..”

“Hhrrrrrraaaaaahh…..”

“The growls of not one, but two dragons-in one place!! I wonder what it is here that could’ve brought them here; ooohh I’ve got to see them up close!”

“You’re here for…sightseeing dragons? How strange.”

“You sound disappointed, is everything alright bud?”

“No. I am here to know more of the weather anomalies occurring through this continent. This harsh weather has caused cookies to suffer and crumble, and I refuse to let it endure another minute.”

“Oh my, I had no idea that was happening. I’m so sorry…”

“Pick your head up, you have nothing to apologize for.”

“Ah, r-right. *ahem*…let me help you.”

“What? No, I’m afraid I can’t. These cookies have suffered for too long, and I can’t risk another getting in the way and—“

“I promise I won’t get in your way. I’ll help aid those cookies with you; I have plenty of supplies to offer some kind of help, be it food or water or anything in between.”

“Hmm…very well then. I believe our interests might be more in common than I realize. Let’s not waste any more time and be on our way.”

“Of course! I’m Y/N Cookie, by the way, pleasure to meet you sir.”

“Dark Cacao Cookie, don’t mention it. Let us do our absolute best for the cookies!”

————————————————————————

Under the intense, near-intolerable heat of the desert sun, two cookies traverse the sands bearing wide smiles of determination. Both hold their own greedy ambitions, yet aren’t driven apart by each other’s desires.

“Hah, you know, I’m still amazed as to why you’re traveling with me to the old ruins. I was wandering the desert to find this marvelous treasure, but you just want to look at them, document them, and that’s it! Why go through such risks if all you want to do is go sight seeing?”

“Hehe, well I guess you could say that’s the treasure I’m hunting for. To see all the wonders of Earthbread, its beauties in its dangers, the uniqueness of every continent, I want to capture all of it and learn everything about it! Plus, it’s super fun to meet all kinds of desserts along the way, especially one as dynamic as you!”

“So interesting, you almost make me want to share the treasure I find with you; almost, of course.”

“I don’t blame you, heh. You wandered all this way for it, it’s only fair that it all belongs to you.”

“Right? I would’ve heard if someone on Earthbread had laid their hands on it first. But then again…I want to show my gratitude for your help. This journey would’ve been boring and perhaps fruitless if not for you; what is your name?”

“Y/N Cookie, a pleasure!”

“Y/N Cookie, I am Golden Cheese Cookie. I shall never forget all you’ve done for me! Your greed for the world is something to admire for eons; nearly as great as my greed for my treasure. You and I together shall be legendary!”

————————————————————————

Somewhere, in a secluded area relatively distant from the nearest cookie civilization, a lone cookie was weeping as she was suffering from a nightmare. A passerby cookie heard her cries, and wanted to know what troubled her so…

“E-Excuse me, hello? Are you okay ma’am?”

“I’m sorry…I’m sorry…I… Oh…it was that same dream again. I’m sorry, I didn’t know another cookie was here…”

“No no, it’s alright, you didn’t bother me. I was just traveling by, venturing out to find some incredible things about Earthbread!”

“You were…traveling? Just freely and…eagerly going about across Earthbread alone? …..why?”

“Ehehe, I suppose why not? There’s so many incredible marvels about this world that I wanna see and experience for myself! There’s just so many things and secrets that I want to know about, how could I not be eager to see it all, ahaha!”

“….s-so carefree and curious…they’re just—“

“Hmm, you say something?”

“N-no, I was just muttering to myself…”

“….Hey, you hungry?”

“What? How’d you…—“

“You have crumbs falling from your hands, how long have you been without something to eat?”

“I…I do not know. I suppose it’s been a while since I’ve eaten something. Maybe I’m getting too lost in my thoughts…”

You pulled out a lot of food from your bags and laid it out in front of the cookie.

“T-that’s so much food! Shouldn’t you keep some for yourself if you’re traveling?”

“I got plenty more, don’t you worry. But if you were here resting from traveling, then it looks like you weren’t fully prepared. Is there any reason why you’re traveling out here?”

“Yes…I want to know the truth.”

“….the truth about, what?”

“Why were we, the cookies, created? Why were we brought into this world? Why were we created so small and fragile? If only all cookies were born strong, unbreakable. If only then…I…”

“Shhh, calm down, alright? Take a break for now, eat up. You can tell me more when we’re back out on the road.”

“I-we?! What do you mean, ‘we?’ I’d get in your way with whatever it is you’re after.”

“I’m not after anything in particular, remember? I wanna traverse and see all of Earthbread, and from the sounds of what answers you’re after, it seems like we may be going down similar paths.”

“….Perhaps you’re right. Okay then, I’ll go with you, to find the answers I’m seeking. …Who are you, exactly…?”

“I’m Y/N Cookie!”

“I’m White Lily Cookie. I’m…thankful for you, Y/N Cookie. I never thought I’d have anyone to help me with this, I figured I’d just burden someone else with my struggles…”

“Don’t mention it, I’m perfectly fine with it! No one should really be alone for a long journey; especially for the one you want to take. I’m more than happy to go with you, White Lily Cookie.”

“Thank you, Y/N Cookie…I will never forget your kindness.”

1K notes · View notes

hoseoksluna · 1 year ago

Text

BOOKWORMS | knj

pairing: boyfriend!namjoon x reader

genre: smut; fluff

word count: 4.4k

summary: namjoon thinks of you when he reads a smut scene in his book.

warnings: boyfriend namjoon!!!, kimi namijoon reading, mentions of sex (riding), oral sex (f. receiving), nipple play, the importance of consent, teasing, raw sex, breeding kink <3, big dick namu!!, dom/sub dynamics, spanking, joonie's chain dangling in ur face, tummy bulge, creampie, bruising, hickeys, aftercare:(

note: it took blood, sweat and tears (hehe) to write this and i'm so happy it's finally here!! i loved writing about namjoon. he's my whole soul and the entirety of my heart and i have to write abt him again soon. please take your time reading this and enjoy urself! let me know what you think in the comments mwah (or tell me anonymously in my inbox) and as i always say please like and if u want to - reblog, but i won't pressure u baby. love love you!!

side note: if you want to jump straight to the smut, it's right under the asterisks <;3

You revel, you truly do, in seeing your boyfriend in such a serene state of mind.

Nose buried in a book, Namjoon pays no mind to the surroundings fleeting by him with each flutter of his eyelashes. It goes unnoticed by him, strangely so, how you tidy up the apartment you share. How you feed the two cats that chose you and him to be their human parents. How you fondle their soft ears. How you bend over the furniture to whisper ‘pspsps’ at them when they need a moment away from you just to see their round eyes look up at you stupidly. Namjoon usually observes these moments; this utmost natural behavior of yours. He draws strength from the homeliness of it all with each and every swell of his lungs. Needs it to survive. That is until he gets a hold of that one papery portal and sits comfortably on the couch, one ankle propped over the knee. Then, he ceases to exist in this world.

You’re happy for him. Over time, you’ve come to find that you have a certain fondness for the way he remains stoic. Because you always know what kind of book he’s reading, a smile blossoms on its own over the line of your lips whenever your eye catches the sculpture-like look on his face. It’s like even if he let himself hold his breath, his consciousness would waver back to the earth and the wretched awareness that he’s here, among mortals and the unfair capitalist system aftermath, would stream in his bloodstream, poisoning his experience. It takes the leisure out of it and makes the bed for misery instead. He doesn’t like it. Hates it, in fact. It’s a necessity that he focuses, as he embarks on the journey, because he does it for you.

Namjoon confides in his feelings and his literature with you almost on a daily basis. On the same couch, with the same cats snoring faintly, their small bodies spilling over the perimeter of your tangled legs. Doesn’t matter if it’s his thigh or the curve of your hip. The animals always find a warm crook to doze in, eavesdropping in, with their curious little ears, on the conversations you’re having. Though you reckon they like the meat of his thigh the best. You do, too. Can’t really blame them. The same serenity that intimately knows the person of Namjoon perceives the person of you when he prompts you to rest your head on his lap while he brushes his book-kissed fingers through the silky waterfall of your hair. Thoroughly explains the intricacies of the plot he’s invested in to you. Describes the characters as if they’re real people he’s become acquainted with. They are real to you as you listen. As you ask additional questions and gaze up at his eyes just to catch that one body of a shooting star fiery hot in the glossiness of his eyes. As you wonder, openly, what will happen to them.

“I’ll tell you when they tell me.” He sunk the promise onto the smooth skin of your forehead with the pucker of his lips.

It’s how you discovered, in all seriousness, that the plaster of his stoicism breaks during these literary moments.

Various colors of emotion tug and twist his features, the bare kind. The unrestrained kind. You know it’s a relief for him when the dam bursts open, soaking you in the beauty of humanness one only finds in literature these days. You can’t help but fall in love with him all over again when his eyebrows furrow. When his orbs nearly burn a hole in the ceiling when he’s trying to think of the right word that will ultimately help him convey the unfolding of the storyline. When he gives up and weaves English into his sentences, relying on his hands to say what his overstimulated brain fails to do.

He reads to pass knowledge to you. The serenity whispered it into the chambers of your heart, a puff of hot breath in winter’s cold. It soothingly rubbed his shoulders when Namjoon told you there used to be a time when he couldn’t stand the sight of his books lining up the walls of his apartment. Wanted to burn it down and watch as the evidence of his melancholy dies in front of him. Because that’s what most of his book collection consisted of back then. The innermost shadowy faces of his pain. Loneliness. Sadness. Despair from life, from it not being enough for him, from it not saving a spot there for him–not once throughout the course of his life. That’s why he reads different kinds of books now. Ones that do not reflect his survival before you.

The reader has to get wiser, ruffled by life in order to gain more, gain what they need from those once deeply loved pages. It’s what the serenity believes. It’s what you believe and hope for Namjoon. That one day, somehow by the healing of the love you give him, he will look back and pick a souvenir from that moonless country of pain. Put it up somewhere between the spines of his new cluttered collection. Look at it from time to time and sense that it’s telling him something. Something that will fill the stitched-up cracks in his heart with sunlight. Something that he will pass over to you. It’s your love language after all. Namjoon reads because you read. It’s his own personal healing thing.

You two are just a pair of two bookworms. Unfit for the world outside. Fit for the land you two created. Whose soil you take care of together.

***

Dinner is almost ready by the time you feel his fingertips gripping your hips. You hum, acknowledging his presence. Glad for the homely heat that radiates off of his body and seeps into your bones as you stir the risotto you decided to make on the stove. Coldness had been embracing you all day while he read so you’re overjoyed that he ripped it away from you.

Namjoon places a kiss on your temple and you sigh in relief. You might be too dependent on him, but so is he. He wouldn’t be nuzzling his face in your hair, squeezing your waist, peppering kisses on your tender skin if he wasn’t. It’s the perfect balance. And it’s not that you’re not able to be away from each other. The principle of looking forward to one another is what makes it so sweet, so endurable for the pair of you. Of the coming back and coming into contact at the end of the day. It’s natural. Simple. Human.

“Missed me?” Namjoon husks into your ear.

You smirk and turn off the stove, turning around to face him. “Terribly.”

His body is clad in a black T-shirt that fits his broad figure well and a pair of baggy sweats of the same color, having discarded the warm crewneck he was wearing earlier somewhere in the universe of his book. A long silver chain twinkles in the middle of his chest in the yellow light. You caress it with your fingers and leave your palm there, on the hardness of his pecs.

“I finished the book,” he says and you blink up at him. You’re not surprised at all. “Couldn’t put it down.”

Sleepy wrinkles have left their mark on his face from the cozy position he laid in for too long on the couch. His short sunlit hair, grown healthily from his military service, is tousled in all directions and you smooth it down for him. How did God bless you with such a beautiful man is something you’ll wonder about for the rest of your life.

“What happened to Theo in the end?” you ask, genuinely curious about whether one of the characters you’ve grown attached to is okay after all the shit the author put him through.

Namjoon was reading a coming-of-age book about a boy named Theo. A panorama of his childhood and adolescent life, you’ve heard all about it. Namjoon cared a lot about this story, cared a lot about the protagonist’s emotions and reactions to the reappearing storms. What made him stick with it, despite the nearly triggering themes, is the fact that Theo never let go of his optimism no matter what. It was incredibly inspiring for Namjoon. Something new. Something that he never thought could be possible. You’re proud of him for daring to read a book so reminiscent of his past.

“You’re not gonna believe it,” Namjoon says, a blush creeping along his cheeks.

You raise one of your eyebrows in question.

“Theo got laid,” Namjoon reveals, laughing softly. “I’m so happy for him.”

You gasp and burst into giggles. “What?”

“He got some!”

Your laughter rises in volume. “He lost his virginity and that’s the end?”

“It was a big moment for him. A triumph of some kind. Like he shed his old skin and left that broken life behind. It was amazing.” Namjoon’s eyes glint with tiny shooting stars and you melt. He always finds poetic meanings in the varieties of the character arcs. You think you just fell in love with him all over again.

“That’s really beautiful,” you admit. It reminds you of something. Of something quite personal. “My first time with you changed my life as well.”

Namjoon’s eyebrows curl in tenderness. Dragon eyes widen and round in fervent emotion. He squeezes his arms around you, enfolding you in a hug. Kisses you warmly. Strokes your hair down your back. Your own eyes pool with little tears with the intimate knowledge that you chose the right person to unfold your raw femininity with. No one, no man other than him could have created such a safe for that to happen.

“Tell you what,” Namjoon says a bit hoarsely. “I saw us in it.”

You hum, encouraging him to continue. Crave for more of his thoughts and confidential findings. Its fire spreading through your body, as each word of his registers in your brain, always makes you feel phenomenally alive. You’re not timid to avow that it’s your addiction. Shame doesn’t know you.

“Elena was on top and he was watching her. In awe of her,” he murmurs, caressing your cheek with the tip of his thumb. “Made me think of our last time. A life changing experience of mine as well.”

You welcome the fire and suspire with sudden desire, eyes lidding. Your heart begins to thump. Namjoon studies your reaction.

“You remember well, don’t you?” He nudges his nose against yours. “I was in awe of you just the same.”

It’s impossible not to remember. The memory consumes your mind every waking hour. Gets you needy in ways you haven’t felt before. Namjoon had you sat on his lap among the fluffiness of your innumerable pillows and plushies. Had you do all the work as he focused on the sleekness of your freshly moisturized calves, its coconut aroma interfused with the scent of sex and the euphony of your bounces, ragged breaths and broken moans making his head all fucked up. He was loud himself, more loud than you ever recalled him being. Reading your body at the mercy of the pleasure his hard length was giving you with his bottom lip sucked between his teeth. Not once did he take his eyes off of you, not once did he help you. Just gripped your calves. Your thighs. Your tits all in his face. Only when you came hard, out of your own delightful merit, did his eyes roll back. You left his hips glazed with the evidence of your well-deserved orgasm, a porcelain statue made glossy.

A little later, during your pillow talk, he told you he’d found the idea of you using him while getting yourself off extremely hot. Made him more hard than he’d been in a while. Begged you to be even more selfish next time, adding an indistinct, ‘well, of course, if you want’ to the end of his sentence because he’s Namjoon.

“I do,” you breathe. “Touched myself to it this morning while you were still asleep.”

Namjoon groans. “God.” He kisses the side of your neck. Gets close to your ear. “You wanna do it again, hm? Wanna fuck me?”

You might burst. His closeness, his heat, his need to ask for your consent turns you unstable. You’re choked up on your words, mind too fuzzy to say something. Turned on. Fucked up.

“You wanna show me how you touched yourself?” Namjoon continues, but you shake your head against the side of his face.

You had touched yourself in the shower. Couldn’t say no to the impulse. Sharing that part of you for his eyes to see isn’t something you’re quite ready for. To you, it’s still something that’s yours. Something private. A courage you have yet to pluck up. You’re afraid to give him this last part of your femininity.

“Not today,” you whisper, planting a kiss on his neck. Feel him shiver. “I’m sorry. Do you mind?”

Withdrawing from your neck, Namjoon looks you dead in the eye, brows twisted in stern seriousness. “Don’t ever apologize for something like that again. Hear me when I say that.”

You squeeze his shoulder, the corners of your mouth lowering in a pout. Thankfulness grips your heart and suddenly it’s hard to breathe.

“You know this is why we do this right?” he asks you. “Why I ask you these questions? I need to always know what you’re comfortable with so I don’t make a mistake.”

You nod. “Yes, Namjoon, I know and I’m so thankful.”

“Good. I’ll never push you to do anything you don’t want. Don’t forget that, okay?”

“Okay, I won’t.”

“That’s my girl.

You grab him by the back of his neck and engulf him in a hug. Luckiest girl in the world? That you are. The fact that you’re his is still something you can’t wrap your head around.

“We can stop. We don’t even have to do anything tonight—”

“No, Namjoon.” You withdraw. “Look.” Wrapping your hand around his wrist, you slip his hand beneath the confines of your panties.

His breath shakes when he reaches your soaked folds. He traces your hole with his middle finger and your hips follow his movement, the pleasure so faint but so good that you flutter your eyes closed.

“Fuck, baby.”

“Yeah, I need you. Need more,” you breathe out. “Can’t leave me like this, can you?”

Namjoon hums. “No, I’ll take care of you. I’ll take care of this pussy.”

He kisses you. Massages his tongue against yours. You buck your hips into his hand and Namjoon hears your body language. Takes his fingers up and rubs your swollen clit from side to side, quickening his pace as he swallows your moans down his throat. Gets angry at your tight leggings hindering him in giving you more, so he gets on his knees and swiftly pulls them down along with your underwear.

“Sit on the counter.”

You comply right away. Namjoon takes your feet in his hands and gently removes your slippers, removing your garments fully so they don’t pool around your ankles. He needs your legs spread and he needs them spread wide for what he’s about to do to you.

Torso long enough to reach you, he remains on his knees. Runs his hands up the back of your thighs to guide you into the position he wants you in. “Lock your arms around the back of your knees. Don’t let go.”

You do as he says, biting your lips in nervousness. Intertwine your hands together. Prepare yourself to die.

Namjoon studies your dewy pussy, index and middle finger mimicking the letter V as he slides them up and down your folds, squeezing just right to hear you mewling. Your knees being so close together makes her look a lot more pillowy and you hear Namjoon breathe hard, absolutely hypnotized by the beauty of your flesh.

“Fuck, baby, you’re dripping down my hand.” He withdraws his fingers to show you how your slick trickles down the lines on his palm, changing the course of his life once and for all.

Your clit throbs, breath matching his. “Please, Namjoon.”

He curses inaudibly. Brings his fingers back down to your folds, squeezes your lips and your clit together. Hisses at the sweet whimpery sounds spilling out of your mouth. Presses tighter so you whine needily for him. Takes you into his mouth when he accomplished what he wanted, tonguing your clit in slow agonizing circles that has you buckling your hips again. Puts his hands on your thighs to keep you down, flicking fast to absolutely abuse the fuck of you. Dragon eyes zeroing on yours, he gives you the hypnosis that your pussy did to him as he sucks on your bundle of nerves. You can’t even scream. Can’t breathe. The pleasure overwhelms you wholly and straps you down. There’s nothing you can do but take it.

You come hard on his tongue. Namjoon laps it all up gladly. And when he’s finished, he stands up and slips those two digits that ruined you into your hole. Doesn’t move them. Lets you adjust instead.

“One more,” he mutters. “Please.”

You nod.

“Use your words or we’re stopping.”

You groan and close your eyes, your thighs visibly shaking in your iron grip from your orgasm. “Yes, Namjoon, one more. I’ll come for you.”

Namjoon places a wet kiss on your thigh to praise you, and to thank you as well. Begins to move his fingers promptly, but can’t seem to get enough of your skin. Proceeds to make it shiny with his liquid love, sucking it to bruise you. To remember this moment a little more fondly in the morning.

Creating a trail up to the back of your knee, his digits pick up the speed. The pool of slick you left in his palm sloshes with each rapid thrust of his hand. He looks back at you and sees you lost in the pleasure, eyes lidded and unfocused. “Look at me.”

You do, weakly.

“Just a little bit more and I’ll fuck you, all right?”

You’re about to nod, but decide against it. “Mhm, yes, Namjoon, fuck.”

He smiles down at you. Your relief inches closer. “I’m so proud of you for speaking up today. For letting me know.”

You could cry right now. Because of his fingers making you feel so good. Because of his kindness making you feel so safe. It all closes in on you and you whimper.

Abruptly, Namjoon unravels your grip on your knees and kisses you, tongue slipping in. You come all over his hand, without meaning to, and he doesn’t stop. On the contrary, Namjoon fucks you harder. Takes all four of his fingers and strums your clit, prolonging your orgasm, swallowing down all of your moans.

“Come on.”

Namjoon helps you down. If it weren’t for his arms holding you steady, you would’ve collapsed on the floor. Your legs shake, muscles taut and tense.

“I got you.”

Sat on the floor with his joggers and boxers pulled beneath his crotch, he pulls you down on his lap. A wisp of precum adorns his tip and you wrap your hand around it, collecting it with your thumb. Watch him as you swirl your tongue around the digit before sucking on it, letting go with an obscene pop. Namjoon licks his lips, hands clasping your hips hard enough to bruise you. Twitches in your other hand.

“Don’t fucking do that to me, baby.”

You laugh almost inaudibly, drunk on him. “Are you gonna come in me?”

He replaces your hand, holding his length at the base for you to sink down. And you do, gasping softly at his thickness. Your dewiness helps it to be a smooth ride.

“Gonna pump you full. Leave you dripping,” he promises, voice restrained. “Gonna fuck you so good you’ll remember it for the rest of your life.”

One thing about Namjoon, he’s a man of his word.

Seated perfectly on him, he waits for you to adjust. Alleviates the tremble of your thighs with his palms, massaging the muscles. Takes off your shirt and flings it across the kitchen. Gropes your tits, rolling your nipples between his fingers. You start to grind on him, throwing your head back. He latches onto your nipple and flicks the nub with his tongue. You lose your mind, leaking down his balls.

“Ready?” he asks against the fullness of your breast.

“Yeah, fuck me, Joon.”

He thrusts into you once to watch you fall apart. Locks your arms behind your back. Grabs your forearms for his use.

“You forgot something.”

He thrusts again, harder this time.

“What?” you breathe out, meekly.

“What word do you use when you want to ask for something?”

He watches you as you work it out in your brain. Fucks into you three more times, equally hard, to disrupt you.

“Fuck, sorry. Please, Joon, please.”

He grinds, hips rotating in circles.

“Uh-huh, that’s right. Now use it.”

Namjoon envelops your tit in his mouth, swirling his tongue around your areola. Sucking. Keeping up the agonizing pace. Groaning when you clench down on him.

“Please, hmph, fuck me.”

Your breast bounces back when he lets go, biting his lip. “Knew you could do it,” he coos. “Smart fucking girl.”

He begins to fuck you properly. Thrusting up and down as he holds you steady, keeping his eyes locked on yours. As he takes control of your squirming, leaving his fingerprints on your forearms and waist. You’re breathless, whimpering, on the verge of sobbing. So turned on and needy for him that the emotions brim in you, threatening to spill over.

“Aren’t you?” Namjoon continues. “Aren’t you a smart girl?”

You nod, knowing exactly what he wants to hear. “I’m a smart girl.”

He spanks your ass to reward you and you arch your back. Tits all in his face. He’s mesmerized watching them bounce and nearly slap against each other, nubs hard and pointed. He licks them up, flicking them with his tongue. You round your shoulders a little in pleasure, his strong grip not letting you fold like your body wants.

“That’s right. So smart and good for me. So fucking wet. Making me lose my mind.”

Namjoon kisses you. Inhales you. Withdraws only for a mere second before he’s back, tongue in, toying with you the way you like it. You feel your relief calling your name.

“Namjoon, I’m so fucking close. I’m so close. I’m gonna come,” you whine, forehead pressed against his, face twisted in ecstasy.

Namjoon stops out of the blue and slips out of you. You whine loudly, but before you know it, he carries you to the couch and lays you down on it. Takes off all of his clothes until only his silver chain remains, shining bright in the dim light. He spreads your legs, one limb over the backrest, the other around his thigh. Grips his length and tugs at it a few times, the feeling of your wetness making him slippery pulling moan after moan out of him.

He enters you again and resumes his fast pace, holding your calf in his hand. “Smart girls come on the couch, not on the floor like whores. You got that?”

You nod almost too eagerly, fucked out beyond measure. “Yes, Joon, please make me come. Please, come here.”

Namjoon leans towards you, propping his elbows by your head, cradling you. “I’m here. I’m gonna make you come.”

From this angle, he fucks you more deeply than before, his tip reaching your cervix. You roll your eyes back, but bring them right back to his face when his chain taps you on the chin. You find it so hot that you grind your hips against his, meeting his thrusts, encouraging him to fuck you harder. The chain meets you in erratic staccatos and you scratch your nails down his bare back, the sword-like pendant hurting you in a way that you like.

Namjoon notices. Slows down his movements. Pinches the chain from the back of his neck. Prompts you to lift your head and slides it over, letting it rest in the middle of your breasts. Then fucks you back into the couch.

“So fucking beautiful,” he murmurs against your lips. “Gonna breed you. Hm. You want that, don’t you?”

The cord tightens in your lower belly. The bulge of where his tip is hitting you nudges him in his stomach and he looks down. Curses.

“Look.”

You follow his eyes and moan. “Namjoon, Namjoon, please come in me. I’m so close. Wanna feel you. Please.”

He grunts, nodding his head. Licks his fingertips and presses them against your clit. Pleasures you in fast and swift jerks until you’re knocking your head back. Only when he grabs your jaw and kisses you does the cord snap, his lips being your ultimate undoing.

Namjoon presses you down with his body, keeps you calm and collected. Kisses you all through it, your jaw, your neck, your cheeks. Then his thrusts turn sloppy and his cock twitches in you. He gives you one final hard thrusts and fills you up, groaning against your mouth.

You’re smoothing down the sting of your scratches on his back when he pulls out of you and his cum drips out of you. You wish you could see what he sees, hand on his mouth, careful to catch his drool. You push out more for him and he curses, fondling your pussy with his thumb before he pumps it back in.

He comes back to you and kisses you. Fixes your hair. Caresses your cheek. Helps you stand on your feet as he leads you into the shower. Washes every inch of your body, heedful of the bruises he left on the back of your thigh. Lathers your hair in your favorite shampoo. Wraps you in a towel. Wanted to moisturize your body, but you told him off, knowing both of you would get horny again. You let him brush your hair, though, placing a comb in his hand. He’s gentle as he undoes the knots, then he blowdries your hair.

And you do the same for him.

Once the pillow touches your cheeks, you’re both out like a light.

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