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bunnyhugs77 · 4 months

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Mr. Take Your Bitch

Pairing: Idol! Jungkook x Reader

Word Count: 8.2k

Content Warning: jk is a little cocky, player! jk, reader gets flustered so easily, jk is such a tease, smooth talker jk, clubbing, ft bts, interviews, reader is small (like 5'1), insults, alcohol consumption, infidelity, readers boyfriend is an asshole, mentions of smoking, impulsive jk, what happens in vegas stays in vegas, messyyy, suggestive themes, sweet gestures.

Other Content: hair pulling, manhandling, oral sex (f! receiving), squirting, missionary, jk splits reader in half, big dick! jk, doggy style, dacryphilia, praise and degradation, cream pies, minor possessive jk, unprotected sex (be better than them), recording.

"How do I look?" Sunny tosses the perfectly sculpted curls in her hair once more, pouting in the dressing room mirror, making sure that not a strand was out of place.

"For the eighth time, you look great, as always." She stands, her red off-the-shoulder top accenting her white pencil skirt and perfect figure, she really did look gorgeous. "Great isn't enough. This is the first time I'm interviewing THE BTS. I need to look perfect."

"You do. I promise." You reassure with a comforting right hand on her shoulder while you center her necklace with your left. "Y/n, we need you out here to help set up." Your manager cracks the door open to call for you briefly before leaving.

"I still cannot believe you dragged me into this coffee girl job just for you to get close to Namjoon." Sunny's full lips stretch from ear to ear showing off her million-dollar smile, "What's so wrong about me wanting you nearby for emotional support? But at least I got you a job out of it, 3 weeks ago you were on the brink of poverty.'' Her arms crossed and you had to admit, she did have a point.

"What was the whole point of this again?" You simply had to ask, remembering the midnight phone call Sunny surprised you with about a month ago when she landed the Hybe interviewer position.

"Remember the story I told you about, in Junior year, me and this boy from math camp snuck out 6 miles away with fake IDs and got shitfaced at the nearest bar then hooked up but I never got his name and he was in the middle of signing my journal we were interrupted and I never saw him again until-"

"You saw Namjoon's face on a billboard in Seoul, and you took this opportunity to get close to see if it was him or not. Yes, I remember now, it's all coming back to me." You finish her story for her.

"Exactly, and-"

"--Y/n, sometime today would be great." Your manager interrupts once again and you leave, apologizing frantically for making them wait, not wanting to lose this job. It actually paid pretty well considering all you did was make drinks.

Walking out of the dressing room, ignoring the buzz in the back pocket of your jeans as you followed your manager to the coffee cart offset. Although from here you had a perfect view of where the interview would take place.

They set it up to be very stylish and modern with BTS albums and concept photos placed strategically around the set within the camera shot. Along with a small coffee table, one chair on one side where Sunny would sit and seven on the other side.

It almost gave you chills to think about. The fact that in a few moments, the most popular boy band in the continent would be sitting right there. All seven of them, including the tempting one.

The one who makes you stumble over your words every time he comes down to the first floor to get a coffee even though there's a gazillion other places to get something to drink in the building.

Every time you see him, he's displaying a new style. Sometimes he comes down stacked with complex layers of clothing and covered in jewelry, or with nothing more than a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, although the latter was possibly the worst of your few interactions. He's just so handsome, it made you want to squirm.

That day he was saying all the right things, yet saying nothing at all. Asking you simple questions like when you started working here, and if you liked coffee, meanwhile all you could mutter was an embarrassing 'yes'. What exactly you were saying yes to? You may never know.

You turned your back to the set and focused on making the pre-ordered drinks the members had sent down with their manager beforehand. By the time you turned back around Sunny was sitting in her place, anxious but ready.

You've been best friends since the 6th grade. She's incredibly outgoing and sociable, a balancing contrast to your more introverted nature although you could be a little extroverted with some alcohol in your system.

She was born for this job, you're sure she'll kill the interview. She mentioned that she'd bumped into a few of the members since she started working a month ago, but not Namjoon.

She definitely underestimated how hard it would be to 'bump' into a man who is guarded by security constantly and extremely busy, not to mention rarely in the country.

Hoseok was the first one to walk in, looking sharp as ever in casual attire but he he made it look incredible. Next was Jimin, and you noticed the way Sunny's eyes nearly widened when she finally saw Namjoon walk in behind Tae.

Finally, they were all inside and all greeted Sunny with a friendly hug and you can see she enjoyed her hug with Namjoon a little too much. Somehow finding something small to laugh about with him as they pulled away.

With an empty cup in your hand, you watched the most handsome group of men you've ever seen, file into the room and take a seat. "Go set these down before cameras start rolling." You feel a tap on your shoulder from another worker.

Did you zone out?

You placed a firm hand on your chest, taking a deep breath before placing a sturdy grip on the handles of the cart and bringing their beverages over. 'One foot in front of the other' you remind yourself, doing your best to ignore the feeling of their gazes turning to you as you got closer.

Unable to look any of them in the eyes as you set down their drinks on the table saying the name of each one so they know which one is theirs.

You could feel his gaze on you whilst Sunny got to witness it first hand from where she sat. The way his jaw slowly clenches with each passing moment, watching you with dark, intense eyes. In that moment, the world around him blurred, and all that remained was the captivating image of you.

It was while you were placing down the final cup that you felt bold enough to finally look up from the table, glancing at Jimin who was talking to Hoseok on his right. Slowly your line of sight inches up and over his head to Jungkook who was sitting on a taller chair behind him.

He was looking right at you.

And that was more than enough for you to return to the cart and retreat to your station. The boys reached for their cups as the countdown to the interview began.

You watched with engaged eyes from the sidelines as the interview began, going through basic introductions and standard questions, you were listening along to the jokes made along the way.

It seemed they were having a great time out there, but you couldn't focus on all of them for too long. You wouldn't be doing your duties as Sunny's best friend if you didn't watch Namjoon's every move; including how he seemed to be the first one to answer almost any of her questions.

The questions were flying by and the discussion was so entertaining to watch but it was over before you even registered it. Sure, cameras had stopped rolling but they were all still talking.

You felt another buzz in your pocket, finally deciding to check.

Daehyun: Are you still mad? It's been 2 days, you're being dramatic. 12:02 pm

Daehyun: Why aren't you answering my texts? 1:12 pm

Daehyun: Fine. Keep ignoring me. Real mature, Y/n. 1:13 pm

You scoff at the messages.

Unbelievable.

Your boyfriend has left you astonished. Again!

You put your phone back on silent, secretly wishing you'd never checked it in the first place. Muttering under your breath about what a jerk he's been to you lately but you stop yourself. Because he's still your boyfriend, and sure, he fucked up a few times, bad. It doesn't change the fact that you're in a relationship with him.

If you could even call it that.

You've slept together twice. Well- 1.5 times if you wanted to get specific. The second time was so bad that you simply had to stop it altogether and make up some excuse so that you didn't hurt his feelings.

Shaking him out of your head and focusing back on your task at hand which was collecting the empty mugs from the table. Repeating the same process as before, avoiding all eye contact, but this time you didn't look up.

You didn't bother because you already knew he was watching you.

You were intimidated but you weren't oblivious.

"Y/n! Y/n! Y/n!" You hear her from around the corner before you see her running towards you at your coffee station on the first floor. Sunny was practically bursting. You would think that she had captured the sun between her hands but it was something that would take your life for a spin, but you didn't know that yet.

"You're interview went so well!" You slip in your comment first knowing that once she says whatever she has to say, it'll go on for years.

"I know right! After you left to pack up, I was still talking to the guys and they really seemed to like me so they invited me and any +1 I want to invite on their weekend in Vegas trip tomorrow night! All expenses paid for!" Jaw-dropping wasn't the word. Knee buckling may be a better fit as you had quite literally stumbled and dropped a mug, thankfully it didn't break.

"No. No no no." You say, backing up and her entire demeanour deflated like a devastated puppy. "Why not?" You lean in close, whispering, "Because Jungkook is gonna be there--" She interrupts you, practically exploding with emotions. "Oh my god, he wants you so bad. Did you see the way he was looking at you?!" She whisper shouts.

"I know!" you plain shout out, realizing your volume needed adjusting and leaning forward onto the counter. "But he's Jeon Jungkook and I have Daehyun-" The most disgusted look runs across Sunny's face.

"I cannot believe you are even comparing the two right now. You said it yourself, one is Jeon Jungkook, and the other is Daehyun, a man you should've left in the dust months ago." Here we go again, you sigh.

"C'mon Y/n. He's an asshole, he's childish, he's bad in bed and honestly, the list should end there but no, he humiliated you in front of your family and he was caught in your sister's dm's on Christmas!!"

"It's May for god's sake and he's still stressing you out, and seeing you stressed makes me stressed. So why don't you come tomorrow, I'll keep you away from Jungkook if it comes to that, but please, you need to let loose a little and forget about him for just the weekend." She begs.

She could see you were starting to consider it.

"Please?" She pouts, giving you those same puppy eyes that convinced you to work here in the first place. "Please don't look at me like that, stop." You try to avoid her sorrowful gaze but It's like it intensifies to a point where you just can't look away, nor can you deny.

"Fine, fine. Okay, I'll go."

Considering you only just found out you were leaving the country yesterday, you think you did pretty good packing light but efficiently.

That's what you were thinking as you stepped behind Sunny onto the empty private jet. She'd already made arrangements to sit beside Namjoon.

She was crazy but you had to give the girl credit, she worked fast.

You weren't taking in a single thing, part of you was still in disbelief you had even seen the boys up close and personal yesterday.

This would all sink in for you in 5 years and then you'll be hit with a numbing regret of not doing things differently.

Or maybe it'll sink in for you right now, Jimin's full head of brown wavy hair is the first one you see to pop up on the plane and he flashes you a kind smile, taking a seat beside you.

He introduces himself as if you and half the world don't already know him but you engage anyway, giving him your name and the rest is history.

The flight was 11 hours so there was a lot of ground to cover between the two of you for the first 6 hours. Jimin was just such an easy person to open up with, any time you said something crazy you felt like he would have an even crazier story of his own to share.

He'd told you all about his first impressions of the guys to his first scandal that the label somehow managed to cover up because even you were in shock. It would have been over for him.

Then it was your turn, telling him about your exhausting boyfriend since it all started seven months ago.

"On Christmas?!" He shouts, "Why are you with him again?" You groan, "God you sound just like Sunny!"

The two of you were clearly enjoying your conversation while Sunny worked on getting Namjoon to talk a little bit about his past, trying to see if he really was the boy from all those years ago, but he seemed occupied reading his book and she wasn't going to interrupt him any longer. She sighs softly, looking out the window, watching the clouds fly by like art.

Meanwhile, at the front of the jet, Jungkook typed away on his laptop, sometimes blurbing some possible lyrics, but mostly keeping himself busy with a thousand rounds of Tetris. He tuned out the sound of your angelic laughter with his headphones, but it couldn't stop him from glancing to the back of the plane where you sat with Jimin every so often.

Only about an hour left before you landed and you really needed to pee but Jimin was in the way and fast asleep. You looked around, it seemed that everyone was fast asleep, but you really had to go.

Lightly tapping Jimin and asking him to let you through, he moves, half awake, just giving you enough time to pass before going back to his original position.

You exited the bathroom, nearly falling to the ground in horror when you came face to face with the man you'd nearly forgotten was on the jet. He smiles that classic bunny smile that the fans go crazy over.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." He says it so sweetly, and in this hushed tone due to the late hour of the night it was making your head think things. Things that you should not be thinking about.

"You okay?" Checking in, seeing that you seemed to have zoned out mid-conversation. Shit. You were doing it again. "Y-yeah." You hated speaking to him it made you feel like you couldn't speak at all. He was just so tall, and his eyes were so big and endearing and-

"Really? Cause it looks like you've got something on your mind." It comes out in such a way that brings heat to your face, suddenly hyper-aware that everyone is asleep, and the two of you are out of sight in the narrow hall of the bathroom.

"Yeah, just excited for tomorrow." You lie, you felt sick to your stomach. He made you sick to your stomach. He gets a little closer, now close enough for you to be able to smell the soft cologne on his clothes. "What's got you so excited?"

It felt like you were watching yourself fall from the sky, it was slow but graceful, but you knew once you hit the bottom, things would get ugly. So you grew wings. "My boyfriend. We're planning on Facetiming tomorrow." It was like a repellant, the way he stepped back.

"Oh, that's nice." He mumbles and you take this opportunity to run back to your seat, hopping over Jimin and strapping yourself back in your seat, shaking your head over and over again.

This was a bad idea. You should not have come on this trip.

"She has a fucking boyfriend." Is the first thing Jungkook says to Yoongi and Jimin while the three sit in the back of the taxi that is en route to the hotel. Yoongi wasn't listening, still half asleep after only waking up 30 minutes ago. He would need a repeat of it all tomorrow.

"Pfft. Barely." Jimin mumbles. Triggering quite possibly the fasted head turn known to mankind, Jungkook looks at him with intrigue, "What do you mean by that."

"He's an asshole. Like a literal piece of shit, but she's still with him for whatever reason. It's gotta be Stockholm syndrome." Jimin shrugs. "But you can't tell her I told you this, I think she's pretty cool, so before you get your dick wet, think with your head first."

Yoongi hums in agreement with that one statement. He may be asleep but he knows a good statement when he hears one.

Jungkook did think. He thought about you all night. From the cab to the hotel, until he fell asleep and again when he woke up. Sure, you had a boyfriend, but it sounds like you shouldn't be with him, or at least deserved someone better.

The morning sun seeps through the curtains, casting a warm glow on the lavish surroundings. You and Sunny share a glance, a silent acknowledgment of the incredible experience that awaits. Or at least that's what Sunny thinks.

Instead, you retreat under the covers of your bed with an unpleasant sound. "How could I let you bring me here." Your voice is muffled and scratchy from it being the morning still. "Because you love me." She runs from her bed and jumps onto yours.

"Should we get room service?" She proposes and you slowly pull the covers down, revealing an interested expression. "Who's paying?" You ask. "Who cares! It's not us." She springs up and bounces for the phone.

By the late afternoon, you'd gotten an invite from Jimin, inviting you guys down to the pool, it was reserved just for them. "We're going, this isn't up for debate, Y/n. You said you would relax on this trip, so it's my job to make sure you do!" She pulls out the violet two-piece you'd packed in your luggage and shoves you into the bathroom, throwing the clothes in there with you after and shutting the door.

"I hate you y'know," you say from the other side of the door.

"You'll thank me one day, Y/n. One day."

There was a roar of cheers from the guys as the two of you walked into sight, the sun was beaming down on you and you were glad you brought your sunscreen.

Jungkook tried to be respectful to the sham of a relationship you were in but what was he supposed to do? You looked so hot in your bathing suit, you were so small but you still had curves in all the right places.

He just wanted to break you in half. Pin you down and-

A splash of water hits him in the face, "Stop eye fucking her and act like you've been neutered for once." Yoongi warns, swimming away before Jungkook could retaliate.

Jin calls Sunny into the water, and she just about jumped in while you were working on unwrapping your new bottle of sunscreen. Jungkook uses this as an opportunity. Looking down at the white shirt that was now soaked through, sticking to his abs he slowly steps out of the water.

Looking you right in the eyes as you shook the bottle. Now you were staring but you didn't care. You were looking at the son of Adonis, or maybe the god himself.

In the warm glow of the poolside sun, Jungkook emerged from the sparkling water, droplets cascading down his glistening skin. The pool's rippling surface bore witness to his athletic grace as he approached the pool chair where you reclined, still shaking the bottle.

His steps were confident, each one leaving a trail of water on the tiles beneath his feet. As he neared, he held your gaze with an intense, playful glint in his eyes. The air between you became charged with a magnetic energy, and a sly smile played on his lips.

With deliberate movements, Jungkook reached down to the hem of his white shirt, clinging to his sculpted physique. The fabric peeled away, revealing the contours of his toned abs. Beads of water followed the curves of his body, accentuating every defined muscle.

As the shirt came off, the sunlight caught on the droplets clinging to his skin, creating an ethereal effect. The sensual eye contact between the two of you intensified, creating a moment suspended in time. The poolside ambiance seemed to hush, allowing the connection between them to take center stage.

Your fist clenched, the sunscreen blurted out of the bottle, some landing on the smooth skin of your thigh but most hit the chair.

Jungkook's expression hinted at a playful confidence, acknowledging the allure of the moment. Your little accident told him all he needed to know. You wanted him.

Even if you didn't know it yet.

Wiping desperately at the sunscreen that had landed on you, a bigger hand comes to help. Gently rubbing the soft flesh of your thigh, Jungkook was crouched to your level with nothing more than a sincere smile as he helped you with your sunscreen.

Your mouth gaped like a fish out of water as you watched him from beside yourself. Unable to believe what was happening. You could feel your heart beating in your ears, and other places but you shook your head.

"Wh-what-" Jungkook looks up to you, moving his hand away. "My bad. I didn't mean to overstep, I just noticed that you'd spilt some of your sunscreen," He inches just a little closer so that you looked down at him from where you sat on your chair. "I'd hate for it to go to waste."

That mischievous tongue of his makes an appearance briefly as it swipes over his bottom lip before retreating; leaving behind glossy plump lips. It's not what he says, but how he says it.

Almost as though he wanted you to break.

You hated how he made you feel without saying anything out of the ordinary.

"You have to be shitting me," Yoongi curses to no one in particular as he watches Jungkook lean up towards you from where he was floating in the pool on the flamingo inflatable.

"You've gotta admit, the boy's determined." Jin adds while Hoseok shakes his head, "He just doesn't know when to give up."

Opening your hotel room door to see Jimin leaning against the wall waiting for you. He looked incredible in his black button-up with the sleeves rolled to the elbows. His hair swooped to perfection.

"About time." He kicks himself off the wall as you scoff, "Don't blame me, blame the dress." Your freshly manicured nail points to the red, velvet dress that left your chest exposed before it went under the halter neckline.

There was so much skin offered to anyone that looked at you. You looked absolutely stunning. The way the dress clung tightly to your curves was almost ungodly but made you seem even more angelic.

Twirling on your toes slowly to showcase the full rotation of your outfit and Jimin failed to suppress his gasp. The back- Your back was completely exposed safe for where the halter crossed behind your neck.

"You look hot, and I'm not just saying that." You grin, leading the way to the elevator and waiting for it to come up.

While you were watching the elevator screen, Jimin was watching you. Not lustfully or anything since he really did see the two of you becoming close friends in the future but his gaze was full of.. fear?

Jungkook was going to eat you alive tonight, and he was willing to put money on it.

The man has been able to show limited amounts of self-control since the trip began, and his little shirtless stunt at the pool earlier that day was proof.

The elevator dings and the doors open.

You step in, hearing your phone vibrating from within your maroon chain side bag. Digging through your various lipsticks, mini perfumes and hair pins you finally grab your buzzing device.

Daehyun: When did you go to Vegas?? and how did you get there? 4:33 pm

Daehyun: Baby, I'm sorry. I mean it. Stop Ignoring me. (now) 8:12 pm

You sigh, scrolling through your messages sadly. "Am I being too hard on him?" Jimin leans over to look at the messages, his face turning sour at Daehyun's messages. "I bet you he doesn't even know what he's apologizing for."

The elevator doors close, and Jimin presses the star symbol for the nightclub on the first floor where you would meet the others.

Shaking your head repeatedly, "No. That's impossible. He knows, Jimin. Trust me." He doesn't seem convinced in the slightest,

"Okay. Since you're so sure-" He snatched your phone from your grasp, his fingers moving at the speed of light and you panicked, reaching for the device but he held it high. "Jimin No-!"

"I said 'What are you apologizing for'. I won't send it if you don't want me to. But It seems like he's only apologizing because he knows he's in the wrong, but doesn't know what for."

The elevator dings, going down floor by floor, the silence slowly creeping up on you, "Send it." You say, and his thumb hits send.

The doors open.

You and Jimin step out into the club. Before you sprawled a vast expanse of vibrant colours. Neon lights adorned the walls, casting a kaleidoscope of hues that danced in rhythm with the music.

The dance floor, surrounded by elevated platforms and VIP booths, was the epicentre of the vibrant spectacle. Mirrored ceilings multiplied the dazzling display, creating a sense of endless sin.

"Do you know where they are?" You ask while Jimin leads the way into the crowd of hot bodies and blasting music, he glances down to the text from Tae, "Tae said they're in section 9." Maneuvering your way through the swarm of people until you meet up with the others.

Jimin walked up the steps first, the group's cheers blending in with the roars coursing throughout the rest of the club as he joined them with you closely behind, the cheers continuing for you with whistles once you reached the platform.

"Oh shit!" Sunny curses, rushing to your side to shower you with compliments. "I guess being 30 minutes late pays off, you look great." Tae welcomes you with a side hug and an invitation to sit beside him.

"You need to cool it." Jin pulls Jungkook in by the collar so that he could hear him over the music. Jungkook finally pulls his hungry gaze off of you and looks to his elder.

"You're making it way obvious, and obvious is not what you want. She has a boyfriend. There are hundreds of other girls here, find someone else." He lets him go and Jungkook shakes his head.

How Jin even found out that you had a boyfriend didn't phase him. The seven of them were as close as brothers, it was hard for him and Jimin to keep anything to themselves.

Hundreds of girls but they weren't you. He couldn't just switch it on and off. This wasn't as fun and playful as it once was before, he was starting to get addicted to the thought of you.

"You have any pre-rolls on you?" Jungkook leans over to Namjoon who was deep into a conversation with Sunny. Namjoon reaches inside the pocket of his blazer, "Never leave home without them."

"Great. I need a smoke." Jungkook huffs, standing, purposefully avoiding your gaze. God you looked so fucking fine in that dress, it made him crazy, sick to his stomach.

He's Jeon Jungkook for god's sake.

The concept of want is so unfamiliar to him. Any girl he wants could easily be in his bed the same day, but you-- he shakes his head bitterly-- you were giving him a hard time, all over what? some lame-ass boyfriend.

"Namjoon you comin' ?" He looks over his shoulder to see both him and Sunny standing, "Mind if I join?" She asks, "The more the merrier."

You watched as the three of them disappeared into the bustling crowd vanishing out of sight. "Where did they go?"

Tae leans forward looking at where the trio had just walked through. "Probably went to go ball up." Tae shrugs, "Which means it's time to really get this night started. First round on me."

It wasn't until three shots later when Jungkook had finally come back, this was the first time you really got a good look at him. He was wearing nothing but a black jacket that had the most delicate body chains striping across his abdomen, giving you a clear view of his sculpted abs and-

Your phone buzzes.

You: Why are you apologizing? 8:13 pm

Daehyun: Because you're upset. (now) 9:27 pm

God, Jimin might be right. He doesn't have a clue.

You: Do you even know why I'm mad? 9:27 pm

Daehyun: Is it because of the nudes I sent Soo-Min? I was drunk, I promise. It was a mistake. 9:28 pm

You gasp. You had no idea what he was talking about. You were referring to him standing you up when you told all your family that he would be coming. You never knew this had even happened.

You: What the fuck are you talking about? 9:29 pm

You: I cannot believe you right now. 9:29 pm

You: Stop fucking texting me. 9:30 pm

You weren't even sad or disappointed. You were used to him letting you down constantly. "Looks like you need another shot." You look up from the screen in your lap, making eye contact with ringed fingers wrapped around a shot glass with your name on it.

You take the shot in your own grasp, looking Jungkook in the eyes as you down it. Your face wincing a little at the burn in the back of your throat but you were beginning to feel that exciting warmth in your chest.

The strobe lights turn red as Chris Brown's Take You Down begins to play through the loud speakers all around the club. "Wanna dance?" He offered you his hand, your brain was a little hazy and your cheeks were flushed but Jungkook was too hot to resist.

"Love to."

The two of you walk off to the dance floor with the rest of the crowd.

Taehyung looks to Jin who looks to Hoseok who looks to Yoongi.

Yoongi sighs, shaking his head slowly taking another shot. "It's out of my control. Once they step on that floor, their fate is sealed."

It's true, the moment Jungkook's hands were on your hips that swayed to the music you knew you were screwed. You had every right to be apprehensive about going on this stupid trip in the first place, but deep down you knew it was inevitable.

This very moment was destined from the start.

"You look fucking perfect tonight." He whispers in your ear from behind you, subconsciously pushing your hips back on him and Jungkook could swear he's never wanted someone as badly as he wanted you at this very moment.

"Says you," You spin in his hold, now face to face.

His grip on your hips tighten, body unable to maintain its façade for much longer. Your hair was up in a bun tonight, showing off the industrial piercing he never even knew you had.

There were so many things he wanted to know about you, and not just physically. He wanted to be able to sit with you over a cup of coffee and talk about everything and anything.

His tight hold on you prompted a breathless whine to escape your lips but he heard it. "Stop it." He says and your eyebrows scrunch, genuinely confused. "Stop what?"

"Stop tempting me. I'm trying to be respectful." Astonishment wipes over your features. "You're telling me to stop? It's been you all along, making me trip over my words, and being so shirtless and hot all the time, making me forget I have a boyfriend." He chuckles.

"So you admit it. You think about me too?"

You step back.

"Yes, Jungkook. I cannot stop thinking about you and that's my problem. I need to get you out of my head." Your mouth was saying one thing, but with the way he was looking at you, your heart wanted him between your legs.

The almost forgotten feeling of lust finally coursed through your veins. It'd been so long since you'd gotten any action, you needed this.

But you couldn't.

He steps towards you, even closer than before. You could feel his firm body crowding against your own. The way he towered over you made you feel dizzy. He leaned down, ensuring that you could feel his warm breath on the shell of your ear when he spoke "Tell me you don't want me and I'll walk away."

You don't want him. you lie to yourself.

Trying to put these thoughts into words, your mouth opens.

"I need you, Jungkook." Finally admitting it.

There was no going back now, his lips crashed against yours with nothing less than an animalistic desire. It was fast-paced and messy but you loved it.

The dam finally broke.

You kissed with more than your lips, his hands on your waist, squeezing tight as he rolled his hips into you with the rhythm of the music.

This was so so wrong, but it felt so right.

The way his tongue rolled over your bottom lip with such skill made your thighs clench, you could only imagine the things he could do with it--

"Y/n!" Sunny screams your name from behind you, not even processing what you and Jungkook had just been doing while Namjoon was busy enjoying the music behind her.

You turned around, a little breathless and bothered after being disrupted but you were immediately occupied with analyzing Sunny's appearance. For starters her hair was ruffled and looked like it'd been put through the wringer, her lipstick (what was left of it) was fading and a little smudged.

And last that you checked she was wearing lashes when the night began but they were nowhere to be found. "Sunny where did you go-- Oh my god- Did you and Namjoon-" Her non-stop nodding causes you to clasp your hand over your mouth.

"It's him! He remembers me!" The two of you have your moment, squealing before Jungkook whispers in your ear. "Meet me at the elevator in 5." Sunny actually does catch on this time.

"Oh my god!? Are you gonna-"

You think about it, "I don't know!! Should I?! Daehyun just voluntarily admitted to sending nudes to Soo-Min god knows when and-" Sunny groans. "Leave him, for the love of god y/n stand up!" She yells.

"I can't just leave him he's my boyfriend, and it wouldn't make me any better than him." Sunny's eyes roll. "It won't be cheating if you plan on breaking up with his ass tonight. Just hurry up and decide, Jungkook's waiting for you." She winks and it gives you butterflies.

He was waiting for you.

The moment you turned the corner of the hallway, you saw Jungkook waiting outside the elevator as he said he would be, finally pressing the button. "I was afraid you wouldn't come," he laughs internally to himself at the double entendre, knowing Jungkook's track record, this has never been an issue for him.

The two of you step inside the elevator, it would be a long ride up to the 21st floor, the two of you did your best to stay to your respective sides of the elevator until there was a crowd of people that entered as well, pushing you into him.

Completely oblivious to the way your ass was pressed flush against his crotch, he looks up to the ceiling, wondering what he'd done in his past life to deserve this kind of punishment.

A beautiful girl pressed up against him but he couldn't do anything. As the crowd moved, so did you he hisses and your body stills, finally aware of what you were doing.

On the 13th floor the elevator empties completely, leaving just the two of you and you try to move away from him but his grip holds you in place. "Didn't think you'd be running from me so soon." You'd never heard his voice like this. It was deeper, bass full of wants and desires,

He spins you around, he had you cornered.

Looking up to him with that doe gaze of yours. His index finger gently rests under your chin, your gaze was practically begging him to kiss you, but in case he was hesitating you nodded just a little, permitting him to open your lips with his.

This kiss was a lot slower and deeper than the one before. It was soft and sweet, but slowly turned into a full-blown make-out session by the time the elevator made it to the 21st floor.

He leads the way to his room at the end of the hall, beside Hoseok's room.

Jungkook worked on unlocking the door while you chewed on the tip of your acrylic. Were you really about to do this?

"I'm going in my room, and you don't have to follow, but I'm leaving the door unlocked." He says, disappearing behind the door. Looking over your shoulder, your room was 4 doors down.

You could still back out now, it wasn't too late.

All you would need to do is have a long talk with Daehyun.

You scoff, even his name irritated you. Your heart knew things weren't going to work out between the two of you once you got back home, regardless of whether you slept with Jungkook or not.

He's broken your trust far too many times, and besides, Sunny was right, he is an asshole.

You walk into Jungkook's room and make sure to lock the door behind you.

"That's my girl," He purrs as he steps towards you, taking your face in his hands before gracing you with a heated kiss, the kind of kiss that made you stumble as he walked you back to the door.

"Hope you put that phone on dnd." He whispers, kissing down your neck, skillfully managing to take your hair down at the same time. You looked like the epitome of sin, hair falling over your shoulders as if it fell from grace while your neck was littered with hickeys, your plump bottom lip tugged between those perfect teeth of yours.

Your dress was the first thing to go, he loved it on you, but it served its purpose, and it did it well. Soon his jacket was finally off revealing his muscular build that you'd seen in the fan cams but it couldn't compare to the real thing.

You kissed him back desperately as your legs were wrapped around his waist while he made his way to the bed, dropping you down to your back watching the way you bounced.

Your perfect tits are the first victim of his passionate affection. Leaving tender kisses on the soft flesh, "Jungkook-" you gasp feeling him wrap his lips around your nipples, tongue working hard to push you towards that edge that you'd been inching closer to since you got in here.

He groans as he feels your hands roam over his back, anticipating the feeling of your nails scratching his skin. Finally moving down from your breasts once they were covered with his kisses and hickeys.

You could feel yourself practically soaking through your under, not to mention the way it was sticking to you. "Looks like someone's worked up," he teases, slowly peeling you out of your ruined underwear.

"What's got you so hot and bothered, is it your boyfriend?" You sit up so fast almost getting a head rush and he laughs. "Jungkook." You say and he gives you a look of lust. "What? Say it baby, use your words. Tell me who makes you this wet. Is it me or him?"

You press your legs together, unable to believe that this was turning you on more. "He couldn't turn me on." He looks up to you with wide eyes. "Is that so?" Nodding your head slowly, letting Jungkook gently push you back down to the bed.

On his knees he takes a deep breath at your core, a guttural sound rumbling in his chest as he was face to face with your dripping core. "So you're saying it's me?" he asks, letting his tongue run a flat stripe against your soaked folds.

"YES! It's you Jungkook please, stop teasing, please I can't take it. I'm already so close." You beg, body thrashing around enough for him to pin your legs over his shoulder and to keep you still.

You were stroking his ego, telling you you were already so close and he's barely touched you. Your boyfriend must've been shit in bed, and he was determined to make it up to you. He was going to show you what you've been missing.

Finally eating you out to his heart's content, ignoring the way your feet continued to move frantically over his shoulders he lapped up at your core, flicking his tongue over your clit until your body spasmed uncontrollably. "I'm-" Unable to even finish the sentence before you were blinded by an earth-shattering orgasm.

It ripped through you like a storm and came squirting out of you just like one too. "You've got to fucking kidding me," Jungkook murmurs to himself and you froze. Was he mad?

He stands up, "Of course the hottest girl I've ever seen squirts on my tongue. Good fucking hell, Y/n. It's like you want me obsessed with you." Who was he kidding, he was already obsessed.

He picked you up so carelessly, bringing you to the balcony where it overlooked the Las Vegas strip. You could see the hotel's illuminated pool and all the car lights as they zoomed on the highway far in the distance.

"Hope you're not scared of heights."

Your stomach twisted at the thought of being so high up, but it was all forgotten once your leg was propped up and you felt your folds being prodded open by the fat head of Jungkook's cock.

"No- fuck! Wait." you cursed feeling him push in just the tip, the sweet burn of his size nearly causing you to fall but he held you steady against the railing, bulging biceps on either side of your body, caging you in safely.

Jungkook knew better, this should be the last place he should be doing something like this but with your pretty ass right in front of him it was such a beautiful sight, and the scenery was cool too.

"It's too much," you pant, arms bracing yourself on the fence that kept you from falling 200 feet below. "It's only the tip baby, you sure you can take the whole thing?" You pause in thought, you needed him, all of him. "I can take it. keep going." You say and he pushes in slowly, feeling his cock fill up every nook and cranny of your womb.

It felt like he was in your lungs, you were knocked breathless, and he didn't move. Your body went limp in his arms, exactly what he feared would happen. He quite literally split you open, but you were determined to take it.

You clawed at the railing desperately, looking for any kind of relief from what you were feeling. "Deep breaths baby, I'll go slow." You nod, eyes squeezed shut as his hips slowly roll back pulling out about halfway before rocking back in.

"Oo-oh. fuck. Jungkook, keep going." you moan, head falling onto your hands; feeling what was once pain morphs into an addicting, sweet pleasure, over time his pace picks up until he was fucking into you with no remorse.

Even if no one could see you from this high up, they sure as hell could hear you. The way you cried out his name like a prayer over and over while Jungkook's brain was short-circuiting with the sight of you creaming on his dick and the obscene sounds it created.

"Does your boyfriend fuck you like this, huh?" He angles his hips, resuming his brutal pace even though you've already come twice now. Your body jolts with each snap of his hips.

You shake your head, but that isn't enough for him, flipping you around so that you're facing him, he pushes himself back in, your eyes fluttering shut almost immediately.

"Use your words Y/n. You're my smart girl, look me in the eyes and tell me that your boyfriend could never fuck you like I do." Your eyes snap open, "He c-could never fuck-!" Jungkook slowed down his thrusts to something so much deeper, your eyes rolled and Jungkook nearly came just at the sight.

"Shit, I'm gonna come." He pants, and with a few more erratic thrusts you feel his warm cum fill you up. He slowly lets you stand but your legs fail you immediately. Scooping you up in his arms effortlessly he brings you to the bed, clearly not done with you.

That's how you found yourself on the brink of your third orgasm while Jungkook plowed into you from behind, obsessed with how his cum seeped out of you and around his cock.

Your arms had given out long ago hence why your cheek was smushed into the sheets of the bed while you whimpered like a whore. "God you should look at yourself," He laughs almost maniacally from behind you.

Feeling himself approach his climax, "Jungkook- please!" you cried out, the friction only adding to the stimulation, "m' gonna-" you try to get back up on your arms but you couldn't move.

"I wonder what your boyfriend would say if he saw you like this,'' A wicked smile spreads across his lips as he reaches for your phone that was forgotten somewhere on the bed, hitting record.

Pulling you up onto your arms, tugging your hair by a makeshift ponytail, the flash highlights the various bruises all over your body left by yours truly. The audio was picking up his soft groans and your pathetic whimpers, and if the room was quiet enough you could probably hear the welt squelch of your cunt sucking in his length with each push.

"Shit, shit, shit!" You cry out, coming once more and your body goes limp, Jungkook ends the recording and tosses the phone to the side while he chases his own high finishing soon after you.

He pulls out slowly, "Y/n, baby? Are you with me?" He taps your cheek gently, and your eyes barely open, "I think you fucked the soul out of me," He dares to flash you a nervous smile as if he hadn't just fucked you dumb.

"Come, let's get you cleaned up."

"That was one hell of a trip." You mumble to Sunny on the phone as you wheel your suitcase down the hall to the door of your apartment where there was a big bouquet of flowers.

"Oh my god," You say, crouching down, wincing a little as you did to read the card. "What?" Sunny asks and you explain what you were seeing.

"Do you think they're from Daehyun?" You scoff, "Fat chance."

You open the envelope to read the card aloud,

'To the hottest girl. We should get donuts sometime, I heard you like them cream-filled ;) Text me sometime xxx-xxx-xxx. -J.K'

Sunny squealed in your ear.

"I'll call you back." You say, dialling Jungkook's number.

"Hello?" He answers.

"You got me flowers?" You couldn't stop the smile from spreading across your face, and he could hear it. He closed his fridge and leaned on the counter, "You like 'em?"

Holding the vase in your hand you take a deep sniff, "I love them."

He shakes his head. "This is so sad. You're too easy to impress. Let me treat you better than that jerk, Y/n." Your mouth falls open-

"How- What?"

"Jimin mentioned the details to me but don't get mad at him; it doesn't change the fact that the guy is an asshole." You sigh.

"I know."

"So?" Jungkook starts, waiting for you to say something.

"I think you mentioned something about cream-filled donuts. When and where?"

He smiles.

#bts #jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook ff #jungkook fic recs #bts one shot #bts jungkook #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #btssmuts #bts scenarios #fluff #bts smut #smut

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murdrdocs · 7 months

Text

BUT YOU'RE NOT MINE. miguel o'hara

description. if you're not his to have, why do you look like the one he has loved? why do you spread your legs and whine and moan for him?

includes. DARK CONTENT 18+, DUBCON & CNC ELEMENTS (it's complicated fr), SMUT 18+, slightly angsty but mostly filfthy smut, fem!reader, massive size kink, dacryphilia, p n v, oral (fem receiving), animalistic miguel (fangs and claws included), possessive miguel, reader is a variant of miguel's late wife, reader's miguel is dead, slight dumbification, power play, cervix kissing, brief mention of paralyzing reader unwillingly, told from miguel's pov (still 2nd person), creampies, like 3 spanish pet names (author does not speak spanish)

wc: 5.5k+

fanart creds to @shuploc

→ kinktober masterlist

He stalks his prey from the window.

The house looks the same. There’s not much dust anywhere, there’s still four seats at the kitchen table and the still slightly cluttered island, the couches are the same worn in set. He can’t tell what the floorboards are like from outside, but he figures that there’s still the scratches from young Gabriella, or the times he dragged his luggage across the living room instead of picking it up like you wanted him too.

He wonders if the kitchen has the one mixed matched knob on the furthest left cabinet like his house does. He remembers the time he underestimated his anger fueled strength, leading to the custom made knob being ripped off the wood. He remembers how upset you were for a second, mourning the loss, and then the flare of lust in your eyes as you looked at him.

You look the same.

A little thinner, clothing a little more muted than before, but you’re still you.

Even though he knows you’re not the woman he married.

And he’s not the Miguel you married.

But you’re still his wife.

He notices you wear your wedding ring, the band accompanying it, and he notices you’re wearing the necklace he got you for your first anniversary. So much is the same that he finds it hard to believe he’s in a different universe. He’s finding it hard to believe that he wasn’t supposed to be here.

But the confusion on your face when you open the door quickly reminds him.

It takes a while for you to calm down from the hysterics. He makes you your favorite tea, marveling, because this is the same, too. He rubs your back when you start to inch more towards him than away. He coos in your ear lovingly, calling you the sweet pet names that you always responded to.

And when your cheeks are dried just enough, Miguel’s lips are on yours.

He meant to lead more up to it. He didn’t even think he came here for this. But you smell like you and you look like you and you feel like you and Miguel just couldn’t take it anymore.

You stall in the kiss, freezing against him, but Miguel continues. He knows you love him. He knows you’re as eager to see him as he is to see you. And he knows you want him as much as he wants you.

You kiss him tentatively at first, and Miguel slows to let you set the pace. He follows your lead, gently connecting his lips with yours, a hand rising to cup your cheek. He slides his palm towards your head to stick his fingers tips in your roots, digits separating around your ear. It’s shocking almost, how his hand envelopes your entire cheek; fingers spread close to your eye all the way down to your jaw.

And it’s with this –– and your hands going to his shoulders –– that Miguel realizes just how much bigger than you he is. He almost dwarfs you in comparison, having both stature and structure over you.

The thought makes him animalistic.

He groans into the kiss, his other hand cupping your other cheek, and he can’t take it slow much longer. He kisses you aggressively, noses smashing together before he tilts his head, and even then his nose digs into your cheek.

You hum, slightly apprehensively, and Miguel feels your eyebrows furrow. Your hands lay over his, and he thinks you’re going to push him away. He prepares himself.

But you don’t.

You keep kissing him, movements still slow so you don’t move in time like you should.

But Miguel’s forgiving.

He takes one of his hands away to slide it down your back, rough palm rubbing against the worn in fabric of your crewneck. It fits you a little big, Miguel remembers from when he came in, and he wonders if it’s his. The him from here, smaller due to the lack of necessity to go out in a Spiderman suit.

The envy that he feels makes him aggressive. This time he growls.

Miguel fists the back of your shirt, using his grip to pull you impossibly closer, and it’s with this movement that you pull back.

He chases your lips, and you let him kiss you once, twice, and Miguel goes for a third time until your lips pull from his with a smack.

“Miguel …” you say, voice uneasy, a little shy. Not like his wife but he remembers that you’re not his wife.

He’s instantly apologizing, fear rising in his chest. “I’m sorry. Am I too much?”

Your smile is soft and comforting. Miguel quickly feels at ease and he suddenly wants to cry. Just the effect you’ve always had on him.

“No. You’re never too much for me. I’ll always want you. Always.”

And that’s the same too. His eyes soften for a second, widening as his eyebrows lift. He searches your gaze for the look, the one that tells him you want this, that this is where you want the night to go. Because he doesn’t know if that’s what you mean.

But you smile gently, you nod, you bite down onto your bottom lip, and Miguel knows.

His body engulfs yours.

You lay there, small in structure, but also in nature, too. You look shy, timid, intimidated by the large man above you. Which does nothing but hardens the prominent length between Miguel’s legs.

He likes that he has this above you. He likes that your safety, your pleasure, your comfort, all relies on him.

Most of all, he likes how your legs spread for him, even though your mouth says something different.

“Miguel, I don’t think we should do this. You’re not my husband, you—“

“I’m not?” He dips down, teeth nipping at your neck. It’s just his front ones this time. He licks the spot, kisses it. “Am I not your husband?”

Your head shakes and your hands go to his shoulders.

“N … No. You’re not my Miguel. You’re not the father of my child.”

Miguel hisses and his chest flares with anger. He didn’t need the reminder, not at a moment like this. He fists the sheets beside your head to calm himself, but when he nips you this time, it’s with his sharp canines. It’s not strong enough to pierce your skin, maybe not even strong enough to sting.

You suck in a sharp breath anyway, realizing you did something wrong, and you’re quick to apologize, leaving Miguel to shut it down.

“Don’t apologize, cariño. Just be good for me, yeah? Let me feel you.”

His free hand slides down between your legs, forcibly cupping your mound, pushing the heel of his palm into the area where your clit resides. You hiss, your back arching, but your hands push at Miguel’s shoulders.

“Mig, this isn’t right, this isn’t—“ but he’s cutting you off, tired of hearing your excuses.

His lips kiss at the sensitive skin of your neck as he speaks, his mind racing with how soft your skin is, and how thin the layers truly are. If he wanted to, he could easily sink his fangs into you, claiming you forever.

He considers the thought as he chooses to gently press his lips into your skin instead.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this. Missed you so much, beautiful. I need you.” Your sounds are soft, little breaths, almost mewls whenever Miguel sucks harder in a spot.

It’s all music to his ears. It does nothing but fuels his desires more and more. He wants you louder, he wants you to whine and cry for him.

And Miguel has always been determined. He’ll do anything to reach his goal.

His middle and ring fingers separate from the rest on your mound to press between your lips, the pinky and pointer fingers spreading them so his middle fingers can settle between.

Your mouth falls open.

Miguel can tell when he hears the clearly audible breaths you let out that sound a lot more like panting than breathing.

“You still make those pretty little noises, too, yeah?” He pulls his head out of the crook of your neck to look at you head on, brown eyes searching yours. If he’s reading you right, he’s noticing it all. There’s shock, some guilt, maybe a tiny bit of fear, but Miguel can clearly see the arousal in them.

He can’t help but smirk, smug and overconfident as he tilts his head. “I wanna hear everything, okay? I need to hear how good I make you feel.”

He leans down, forehead pressing against yours, and you’re so warm, nearly sweating even though Miguel has done absolutely nothing to bring you true pleasure. Your eyes close while his stay open, and Miguel takes a second to admire just how gorgeous you are.

He takes in all of the similarities; from your eyebrows, to your eyelashes, to your nose, to your lips. But it’s beside your lip that he notices something not right. You have a scar, deep enough to be visible, clearly healed, but it’s there. His eyebrows furrow, he gets possessive, he gets angry, because you weren’t protected. You’d gotten hurt, and he knows that if he were here, the Miguel above you not the other one, this wouldn’t have happened.

So when Miguel presses his lips to yours, it’s soft at first. Gentle for a few moments as he tries to communicate the fact that this Miguel, while he might not be your husband or the father of Gabriella, is willing to be your protector all the same.

He wants to be more gentle with this entire ordeal, but you start to kiss him back and he loses it again. He starts to devour you, face a little scrunched as he pushes his lips against yours, moving with a pressure and pace that overwhelms you.

Your smaller hands fist at the fabric of his shirt, bunching the material up at his shoulders, pushing at them but Miguel barely even moves. Miguel understands that your reaction comes from the way he’s attacking your lips, but the more illogical part of his brain reasons that you want his shirt gone, so he pulls back long enough to yank the fabric over his head with one hand.

It’s thrown off and into one of the clean corners of your bedroom, Miguel’s eyes quickly taking in just how clean the room is. He notices the lack of anything belonging to him, save for an old pair of sneakers that sit in the vicinity of his shirt.

Sadness overtakes him for a second, but then he hears your soft “wow” and he turns back to you. Your eyes are tracing his exposed body, taking in his physique. Your hands reach out, hovering over his biceps before they rest fully upon them. It’s amusing to Miguel, the way you squeeze the area and your eyes widen more.

Your heart starts to beat faster, Miguel can hear it in the silence of the bedroom, and when your eyes look at his again, he sees a bit of fear in them.

He tries not to have a positive reaction to the emotion, but he can’t help it. He’s entertained, thinking of how you’re finally realizing that Miguel is bigger than you. So much bigger. He can do whatever he wants at this moment, and you have to take it.

He doesn’t know if you’re aware, but you fucking whimper. You sound like a terrified pet, facing danger inescapable to them.

Miguel reaches his free hand out, cupping your cheek just as his occupied hand starts to rub up and down your slit. Your lips part, your eyebrows push together, and Miguel smiles.

“If you want me to stop, all you have to do is say it.”

You know the code word, Miguel made sure of it before you reached the bedroom because he would never hurt you. Not if he could control it.

You just stare at him. Not saying anything. And Miguel subtly feels your hips shift to push further down, more into his touch.

He takes it as his go ahead.

He sits back on his haunches, all six feet and nine inches of him, his chest rising and falling with shallowly taken breaths as he eyes you beneath him.

Stripped of your shirt and shorts, wearing nothing but a clearly loved bra and a pair of printed cotton panties. There’s no manufactured bow in the center of them, and Miguel briefly wonders if you still have those. He thinks back to how you’d always pull them out for date nights, or nights where Gabriella wouldn’t be home, and when he’d comment on them, hinting that you were surely expecting something, you said nothing, gently smiled, and turned towards the bathroom.

Miguel doesn’t realize it, but he’s gotten lost just staring at this single garment. Your wiggling hips breaks him out of the trance and he slips his thick fingers beneath the elastic waistband of your panties and he starts to pull them down your legs.

The movement is awkward, a product of your refusal to work with him. Your legs are spread too far, you won’t close them enough to let Miguel slide your panties down, it fucking frustrates him. He’s holding back a growl, his lips clamped shut in a thin line so he doesn’t snarl.

“Baby, just close your legs a little, let me–” but his words are cut off as Miguel grips one side of your underwear with both hands, and then the fabric is broken into two.

A sharp gasp from you and your legs clamp shut. But Miguel’s not having any of that. His hands, palms rough against your soft skin, grips your knees, muscles barely flexing as he easily pulls your legs apart.

He briefly wonders if the lack of resistance comes from your own personal will, or if he’s just that much stronger than you. Either thought has Miguel feeling a little dizzy, his blinks slowing as your opened legs reveal a slickened cunt.

Pretty, glistening with your juices, evidence of how much your body wants him. He starts to salivate a little, his enhanced nose picking up on the aromatic scent coming from you.

Miguel barely realizes that it’s happening, but suddenly he’s leveled with your cunt and his breath is fanning against the most sensitive parts of you.

You jump, moving a little further up the bed and away from him, your escape futile when large hands drape over the tops of your thighs, pulling you back to him and pushing you down into the mattress simultaneously.

Miguel’s sure that the sound that escapes from your mouth would’ve been a whimper if he hadn’t decided that now was the time to lick a long stripe from the lowest point of your cunt, to the clit.

It’s slow, a little torturous on his end, but it’s worth it with the reaction you give him.

Mouth dropping, eyes widening as your eyebrows attempt to meet in the middle, your hands fisting the sheets, your hips trying to pull away from him and get closer at the same time.

How reactive you are does nothing but excite Miguel.

He launches forward, head burying in your essence, his nostrils flaring as he takes deep inhales. He gets lightheaded for a second, the dizziness coming back, but he reminds himself to breathe when his nose bumps against your clit and he hears you take a deep inhale.

What follows is Miguel O’hara behaving in a way that can barely be akin to a man, more akin to a beast, as he tries his best to devour you. The sounds are sinful; Miguel’s saliva combining with your wetness, his tongue uncoordinated as it plunges into your walls and comes back out to slurp the surrounding area.

This isn’t his best work, and he wants to correct his technique to bring you more pleasure, but he can’t get enough. He’s like a man starved, attempting to consume a meal as if someone’s waiting to take it away from him.

Briefly, he’s reminded that someone could take this all away. He can’t stay for long, or else your universe could collapse. He shouldn’t be here in the first place. But his greed, the very thing he’s displaying now, brought him here, completely on selfish desires.

Guilt attempts to cloak his being, but you whine and Miguel’s right back in it.

He lifts his mouth to wrap his lips around your clit. He sucks, once, twice, flattens his tongue to swirl the bud around, and then he bares his teeth, turns his head to the left, and his right fang gently connects with the sensitive nerve ending.

A little gasp comes from you. “Fuck,” you whisper, and Miguel wouldn’t have heard it if it weren’t for his enhanced hearing.

It’s a positive reaction, he figures, so he does it again. And again. And one more time before he has two fingers plunging into your walls, inching further in even as you heave.

“Not used to this, are you? Your little fingers haven’t been cutting it. Need something bigger to fill you up.”

Miguel lifts himself again, arm going to rest beside your head, body hovering over yours once more.

You don’t say anything, but Miguel’s fine with that. The pads of his fingers are deep inside of you, they’re massaging your walls, curled and reaching for the spot that Miguel still hasn’t forgotten. He finds it after a little too long, and you try to stifle the sound by biting onto your bottom lip, but Miguel can see the pleasure.

It shows in your wide, pleading eyes. In your raised eyebrows. In your flared nostrils.

He smirks, proud of himself, and pays special attention there.

“That’s it. There it is. ‘S all the same.”

He kisses your cheek and his fingers slowly pull out, only to thrust back in, finding the area of that spot over and over again. It has you mewling, your legs spread, your body clearly enjoying it even though you pretend the opposite.

“Mig, Miguel, please, I … I’m, it’s all…” You’re saying so much but so little. Little jumbles of words that preface something that never comes. He can’t tell if you’re begging him to keep going or to stop. He doesn’t know if he could stop even if he wanted to.

Not with the way you’re so obviously close.

One of your hands fling to wrap around Miguel’s wrist, and he fucking laughs when he sees that your pointer finger and thumb is miles apart, on opposites sides of his wrist.

“Don’t know how you’re gonna take this cock, baby. So fucking tiny beneath me. ‘M gonna split you open.” The words are whispered in your ear, meant as a warning, maybe even a promise, but it feels borderline threatening coming through his bared teeth.

Your head turns away from him, your eyes squeeze shut, and you’re practically intelligible when you say, “‘M close.”

It’s like Miguel’s been presented with a goal that could alter everything. He needs to make you come, this time being the first of many tonight.

He has a thirst that can only be satisfied by feeling your walls squeeze and flutter around his fingers.

He kisses your temple, his fingers speed up, and he’s encouraging you.

Not even a few moments later Miguel’s fingers are constricted. His hand lifts with your hips, his ears drink in the sounds you let out; little moans and huffs of air that you’re clearly trying to keep hidden. Which Miguel is fine with for now, because he knows in due time you’ll be screaming around his cock, not even aware of the sounds that you make as you reside in complete ecstasy.

You’re barely calmed down, the occasional twitch still in your legs, before you’re looking over at him.

He stands off to the side of the bed now, eyes on you as his thumbs dig into the elastic of his gray sweatpants. He tugs them down, watching your eyes trail down his body. He exhales, abs flexing with the breath, and your eyes get just a little wider.

But when his sweats are on the floor, and he’s stepped out of them, your eyes are low, lidded not just from the directional change, trained on the way his cock is straining against the stretchy fabric of his briefs.

He steps closer, hand cupping your cheek, head dipped as he looks at you.

“Would you like to do the honors?” A phrase he’s uttered frequently to you in this setting. Usually a wicked smile, and eager hands is your response.

Now, you tilt your head, assumingly letting the words translate in your head, and Miguel realizes that it’s really been a while since you’ve had your Miguel.

When you understand, your hand reaches out to his boxers, but then it stops midway.

Miguel nods. “Come on, don’t be shy.”

Then your nails scratch at his lower abdomen, beginning to stick under the elastic.

“There you go.” His eyes turn down, watching his crotch, watching your hand disappear beneath the fabric. They flutter shut when you wrap your hand around him.

The first touch is always the best for Miguel. He shudders, the feeling translating to a shaky breath.

He wants to keep his eyes closed, basking in the feeling of you starting to timidly stroke him, but he feels eyes on him, and there’s nothing Miguel loves more than your eyes.

So he looks down at you, he watches you as your hand trails to the tip of his cock, thumb smearing the precum along the circumference to give you better slip.

Your hand glides up and down the expanse of Miguel’s cock, feeling him up, working him slowly.

It feels nice. But it’s not nearly enough.

Miguel takes the liberty to pull his briefs down his hips, the garment meeting the same fate as his pants.

Your hand is still around him, but your grip falters just a bit when his cock springs free.

Miguel watches your eyes size him up, taking in the sheer length and girth of him.

He can already predict what you’re going to say before you go.

“Miguel. It’s not gonna fit.”

The fear returns to you. It shines in your eyes, flares in your chest, scrapes up your limbs and leaves goosebumps in its trail.

His head shakes. “It’ll fit, amor. I’ll make sure it fits.”

He wants the words to soothe you. He hopes the words will soothe you.

But as he situates himself between your legs, as he arranges your legs to lay over his, as he starts to line himself up, you look even more fearful.

You’re clenched tight, it’s showing in your entire body, so Miguel rubs his thumbs along your hips, and he gives you what he thinks is a comforting look. He hasn’t been able to contort his features into that look for a while now, and he’s sure that he’s out of practice, but it works.

Your eyes set on his face, they roam over his features, then they lock onto his eyes like meeting a target.

There’s an unspoken agreement for him to proceed.

So he does.

You’re tight. Miguel knew you would be, but it’s still slightly unexpected. He can’t help but hiss as the head starts to breach. You’re tight.

“Baby. Let me in. Breathe.”

You try to do so, but it’s like no matter how many calming breaths you take, you get tighter as Miguel continues to push.

It gets to the point where Miguel has no choice but to keep going, hoping that his attempt at soothing words work as he buries himself to the hilt. Miraculously, it’s only then that you relax, the feeling of loosening alerting Miguel of the change.

He looks at your expression, satisfied to see your features slack, starting to morph into pleasure once more.

He starts to move, slow drags out and even slower pushes back in.

They’re intended to allow you room to adjust, to cease your whines and provide you comfort, in an alarmingly discomforting situation. Miguel thinks it’s working. You go mostly silent, he wrenches his eyes closed in pleasure, but they peel back open whenever he hears sniffles.

It’s impossible for him to continue holding back when you look at him all pretty like this. Tears streaming down the sides of your face, pooling in your hair, salty liquid sticking your eyelashes together as you blink pathetically up at him.

Something tugs at him, telling him to give it his all.

So he does. He takes what he wants.

He takes what he deserves.

His snapping into yours with a force that sends you up the bed each time. He refuses to let you off the hook like this, hands gripping your hips, your soft and supple skin pinched between calloused fingers. You whine, crying out desperately as you push at Miguel’s hands.

He doesn’t let up, believing that this is the only way to keep you close to him. Even if it hurts.

He gives you some reprieve, however, taking away one of his hands to slide up the back of your thigh. He hooks your limb over his hip, encouraging you to dig your heel into the dimples at his lower back. It’s something the you that belongs to him would’ve done, and there’s a split second of fear in his chest as he anxiously waits for you to do it now.

Whenever you do, the heel of your foot pressing into the skin right above his ass, he snarls. It’s unfiltered, an accident, but it’s real and raw.

His claws come out and they swipe at your skin accidentally. A gasp from you, then a wince, alerts Miguel of the mishap, and his heart stops. His hips stop. He’s hurt you. He’s done the thing he swore he never would.

You look at the bleeding cut, then at him, and Miguel doesn’t see hurt in your face. Instead, you pull him closer, arching your back, pushing your hips into his and grinding as best as you can against him.

You go from stoic and pliant to untamed, your own nails digging into his forearms, your hips lifting off of the bed in what should be an unattractive motion.

Yet there’s nothing that you could do that could be unattractive in Miguel’s eyes.

He’s sworn to love you forever, despite the Universal difference.

He licks his lips, and with the motion he feels his fangs. Sharp, pointy, ready to plunge into whatever flesh he can reach. He once again considers it for a second, sinking his teeth into your thigh and rendering your limbs useless. Keeping you stuck to the bed for him to use and abuse however he’d like.

But you’ve been behaving so well tonight. So he finds no need.

Miguel angles his hips differently and you whimper, the sound sweet and small and soft from you. It resembles a “hng”, tailoring off into a gasp towards the end that has Miguel grunting in response.

“Acting like you’ve never been fucked like this before.” His voice is rough, lacking any romanticism in the tone. He could barely care less.

“Maybe you haven’t. Has no man taken you like this? This sweet, supple body, left unused for this long. You know that’s not your purpose. You’re wasting your potential, honey. This is what you’re made for.” He punctuates his statement with a piercing thrust, hitting a spot that makes you gasp sharply.

“Made to give men like me pleasure. Not many can take what I can give, but you can, right?” You nod eagerly, seemingly attempting to prove your agreement by taking a deep breath and relaxing your cunt around Miguel enough for him to slide just a little deeper.

He smirks, hand reaching to your tit where he strokes your nipple with his thumb. “Such a good girl. Probably make a good little housewife too. Maybe I'll stick around. We could do this more often. Get this tight little body to take me 24/7 until it’s second nature. I can feel her struggling around me. Pussy’s too tight. Hasn’t had a big cock to fill it in a while. But that’s alright, we can train her. She’ll be as good as new in no time, yeah?”

It seems he’s fucked you too good, beyond any verbal or nonverbal responses from you. Instead, you’re a mess of whines and groans. Your mouth hangs open, drool pooling at the corner just before it fills over and slides down your chin. It doesn’t bother you, or you have more important things to focus on, because you let it glide down until it sits in your clavicle.

Miguel’s ego inflates as he watches you fall apart like this. Earlier tonight you were the picture of perfection; a neat outfit, a neat home, your emotions and responses polished. But you shed all of that for him. Because of him.

In his mind, there’s no greater honor.

Especially whenever he slides his hand down to your clit, flicks your bud one, two, three, times, and then your back arches as your orgasm travels through your body.

He sees it start in your loins first. Your pelvis rocks against his ferociously, and then it stops, twitching every so often as your orgasm travels to your limbs then. Your legs lifting, hovering on either side of Miguel and twitching sporadically as he continues to fuck you despite your feeble hands pushing at his shoulders.

He’s bigger than you, stronger than you, smarter than you, and he knows what’s best. He knows your body better than you do. He knows you can handle another.

He knows you need another.

So he continues.

He hooks your legs over his shoulders, presses his hands into the mattress on either side of your head, and starts fucking you to a second round of completion.

Your eyes squeeze shut, your body tensing as you brace yourself through the pain. But Miguel tuts.

“None of that, baby. Look at me. Look at who’s making you feel this way.” It takes you a second. You huff, your eyebrows push together.

Miguel rolls his eyes. He lifts one hand, taps your cheek with enough force to have your eyes snap open, and then he grips your face. “I said: Look at me.”

You do as told now, fear flashing through your eyes, and Miguel grins. He likes the power. He likes this feeling.

“There you go. That’s it.” He presses a kiss to your forehead. “Now give me another. Just one more, my love.”

He’s so deep within you, your arousal leaking out around him, giving him access to the uncharted parts of you by virtue of providing absolutely no resistance. There’s possibly the easiest slip and slide happening between the two of you, Miguel’s cock entering and exiting your cunt rapidly, shallow thrusts that reach mere inches away from your cervix each time.

Each drive into you prompts a sound, a gasp or moan or just a force of air from your diaphragm. They spur Miguel on, the vigilante adjusting your leg over his shoulder just a little, his chest almost parallel to yours as he forces himself deeper and fucks you harder.

“C’mon, baby. When you’re ready, just let go for me.”

He’s close at this point, too, but he absolutely refuses to cum without you clenching around him.

His wish comes true just a few thrusts later. This orgasm builds longer, your walls starting to flutter a few moments before your moans crescendo.

“There we go. There we––” His words are cut off short as his orgasm pushes through his body. His balls twitch, his hips stutter, and he’s shooting warm ropes into your fluttering cunt. He can feel his claws come out and pierce the fabric of your mattress, but he doesn’t think about how he’ll replace it yet. Instead he focuses on this feeling.

The euphoria taking over every fiber of his being as his hips automatically piston into you a couple of times as your cunt greedily milks him. It’s not until he has none left that he pulls out of you, his cock steadily softening, creating a sensitivity that has Miguel wincing.

You’re silent except for a few breaths and Miguel mirrors your state.

You both lay there, staring at the ceiling, and Miguel looks over at you after what could be anywhere from a few seconds to a few minutes.

You’re already looking at him, smiling softly. He smiles, too, his features getting softer whenever your hand raises and cups his cheek. He places his hand over yours, body relaxing when he feels your wedding ring.

“I’m glad you came back to me,” you say, voice earnest and honest.

Miguel pulls you into his chest.

#🕸️ 𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐃𝐑𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐑 #migueltobr!#miguel o'hara x reader #miguelsworld!#miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 x you #spiderman 2099 smut #spiderman 2099

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luveline · 2 months

Note

You mentioned in one post that bombshell!reader was furious with the team for not helping Reid with his addiction (as she should be)…. Would you maybe write about her helping him thru withdrawal or thru the cravings that follow? Maybe subtly at first, then just making sure he knew he wasn’t alone? Just some tender moments where Spencer starts to realize she actually cares about him, even if he doesn’t believe her flirting yet.

-🌕

I love every single thing you write, even for fandoms I’m not even in. You’re amazing!!

thank you for requesting my sweetheart!!! I really hope this is what you wanted, love you <3 fem!reader

cw past drug abuse

“Hi, Spencer Reid.”

You perch on the edge of his desk with no further introduction. You’ve changed perfumes, to his immediate recognition, the rich smell of your usual parfum swapped for a less consuming scent. He detects apple blossom, and rose, the smallest hint of jasmine, a contrast to your usual vanilla and peony. The human brain can remember 50,000 scents, and Spencer can remember all of yours. Or, he could.

“You’re not saying hi anymore?”

“Hi, Y/N.”

“Hi. It’s nice to see you.” You put your hand on his. Spencer isn’t sure you’ve ever touched his hand before, he’s never really let you, but he doesn’t move away. A huge winding of tension between his shoulders begins to unspool. “It’s really nice to see you, babe. I’ve missed you tons and tons.”

He looks up tentatively. “You have?”

“I have. I haven’t really been invited, today. I’m just here to see you.”

“Why?” Spencer asks.

You tighten your fingers on his hand. “Missed you. Thought maybe we should, like…” And that’s unusual, for you to use filler words, Spencer doesn’t know what to think of it. “Well, I have something to say to you, and it’s going to either sound reassuring or ridiculous.”

“Okay.”

You give him a withering look. “Don’t make it any easier for me.”

He laughs. The sound alone fosters your smile. “Sorry,” he says softly, “I doubt it’ll be ridiculous.”

“Spencer Reid, we are friends. We are. But we never do anything outside of work, so I was thinking you could come over tonight and we’d make dinner and watch TV and stuff.”

“And stuff.”

“I’m a bit nervous,” you confess, looking down at your lap, then quickly back up into his face, “I’m worried you won’t want to.”

You’re kind to avoid saying what he’s sure you’re thinking; you’re worried he won’t want to spend the night with you, and instead will look down the long barrel of a small needle. Or, he thinks that’s what you’re thinking. He does it to everyone.

“What do you want to make for dinner?” he asks.

“What are you enjoying lately?”

“I… I don’t know. I’m not really eating.”

“Cereal?”

“Yes,” he laughs. “Lots of cereal.”

You tap the wheel of his chair with your heel. You’re dressed as though you aren’t working, wearing a sweet dark dress with a starched collar and baby sleeves, stockings, and a necklace at your neck that glows with a small white crystal. You look amazing. It never makes any sense to Spencer, why you’d taken an interest in him, and why you bother now. He knows he’s hard to care for. He knows he’s making it worse.

You look up and down his face. You must see the purple half circles beneath his eyes, the crack at the corner of his mouth, the cut he can’t stop picking on his cheek. Every time it scabs, he opens it again. One second he’s sitting there and the next he’s got blood under his fingernail.

“Hug?” you ask hopefully.

He goes to stand. You move in too fast and wrap your arms around him, leg slotting between his, leaning over his shoulders with a distinct sense of protectiveness. You squeeze him, a little sigh escaping you that sounds loud so close to his ear.

“How has it been this week?” you ask quietly.

“It’s fine.” He cups your back in his arm carefully. The other wraps tight around the small of it. He soaks you up, scared you’re gonna pull away any second.

“How are you feeling about it? Do you need any extra help?”

He cringes. “No,” he says. “It’s really fine.”

“When you texted me, about the cravings? What are they like today?”

He wishes he could breathe in the smell of your perfume and your skin and tell you they’re all better now. It would make sense; there isn’t much in his life that hasn’t been made better by your attention. He’d struggle to do this without you. You’re his only friend who actually cared enough to say the problem out loud, but you’re just a woman, you can’t work the sort of magic necessary to kick this for him.

“Spencer?” You pull away, nudging his cheek with the back of your finger.

“They’re okay. I’m not gonna do anything.”

“Good, honey. I’m proud of you. I know how hard this is.”

He bites the inside of his lip, surprised at your caring. He shouldn’t be.

“What are you two whispering about?”

You and Spencer have different reactions to Emily’s sudden question. He flinches like he’s been caught with his hand in the cookie jar and you, still vaguely pissed with everyone for not telling you Spencer was struggling and not afraid to show it, keep your eyes trained on his face.

“Nothing,” Spencer says.

You turn to her with a small smile. You still like her, Spencer knows. Secretly, he’s pleased you’re angry for him. It’s nice to have someone so obviously on his side. “We’re just deciding what to get for dinner.”

“Oh, nice. Date night?” she teases.

You press your cheek to his forehead. “Date night,” you agree, your hand unmissable where it bunches in his sweater near his heart.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

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jyoongim · 3 months

Text

So I tried to mush all three of these request into ONE since i felt they all had a similar theme. Umm I might have missed a few points but I hope you like it regardless <3

Themes: 18+, nsfw,fem!reader, bratty!reader, soft!dom!Alastor, established relationship, brat-taming, pet play, orgasm denial, masturbation, rough sex/passionate sex, breeding kink, possession, degradation kink, slight bondage, humiliation, alastor uses microphone, creampie, multiple orgasms, punishment, slight choking, praise kink, overstimulation, much needed aftercare

You were usually so well behaved.

Radiating confidence and elegance through your quiet demeanor.

A pretty doe who followed her master’s orders without question.

That’s why Alastor liked you so much.

But every so often, you needed to be reminded that his adornment for you shouldn’t be taken for granted.

You were out doing you own thing away from the hotel.

You had found a cute cafe with a library and was enjoying a few books. It felt so nice to have some time to yourself. You enjoyed the company of those who occupied the hotel, but sometimes it felt a little stuffy. You had already did everything Alastor wanted you to do so why not relax a bit before being summoned back to his side?

Alastor.

He brought a smile to your face. It wasn’t everyday you met another deer demon and the two of you hit it off real nice.

You were a pretty soul in his collection and truth be told, you didn’t know why he needed you around. But you didn’t mind doing small things for the demon.

You were his ever faithful assistant, but there was so much more to your relationship with the Radio Demon than any knew.

You felt your necklace vibrate and pouted summoning. You ignored it, resuming with your reading. You’ll just leave when you were finished….

Alastor cocked his head, his smile tense did you just ignore him? Alastor gave you a lot of leeway. But now was not the time to ignore him. He could feel the telltale signs of his rut coming and merely just wanted you in his presence. You had a soothing effect on the red demon and he wanted to bask in your scent.

He tried again, sending out a signal along with it Darling, be a dear and come home. Nothing. he knew you had left the hotel but you usually came running when he summoned you.

His ear twitched in annoyance. Seemed his little Doe needed to be taught a lesson in obedience.

You hummed a little tune as you entered the hotel. You were gone a bit longer than you thought, having indulged yourself in several books, you even picked up his favorite meat as an apology.

Your nose wrinkled as pheromones hit your nose. Your ears picked up on a low humming, like white noise. You felt your necklace give a tug.

come to me

You made your way to Alastor’s radio tower.

You knocked softly and peeked your head inside, entering with your ears pinned back.

”You know that I am my own person right?, I was coming back eventually” you said sarcastically with a smile on your face as you approached him at his radio station. You meant for the comment to be silly, thinking whatever he wanted could wait.

He did not find it funny.

He twirled around in his chair, his smile tight “I thought i told you to come home my dear”his tone was rough, head tilted.

You shrugged “I was out enjoying myself. I dont always have to answer to your every beck and call”

Green chains appeared around your neck, yanking you to the floor.

You blinked and mindlessly tugged at the chain, frowning.

You looked up to him, with a questioning expression on your face, which quickly dropped to one of anxiety when you saw his face.

Alastor was pissed.

With a yank, he tugged you towards you, slowly reeling you across the floor. Your skittish nature kicked in and you tried to fight against it “Al?”

His eyes were black, glowing red as he tugged your chain harder.

”A-Al s-stop it”

He cocked his head ”since when do you talk back to me pet?” He chuckled, he tugged the chain until you were between his legs.

He grabbed your chin “Did you forget who owns you? When i call for you , you come… that was our arrangement no?”

You nervously gulped, nodding. He ran a claw through your hair, almost lovingly, before yanking your face til your nose was buried in his crotch.

“It seems I’ve been too soft with you,” You got a good whiff of his scent and nearly purred at the heavy pheromones.

Alastor relaxed in his chair as you ran your nose along his clothed cock. If it was one thing you always craved it was Alastor.

He watched as you tugged at his belt, adjusting his hips to let you tug at his pants until his semi-hard cock sprung free from into confines.

He let you have your fun.

Because he sure was going to have his and you weren’t going to like his version of fun.

You took hold of his cock and licked a long strip up on the underside of his cock, suckling at his tip.

You sucked at his tip, tongue swirling at his slit before taking him into your mouth whole. You slowly inched him into your throat until your nose brushed the patch of red hair at his base.

Hands anchored on his thighs for leverage, you began to bob your head up and down, making sure to coat him in your saliva.

The sounds of you happily slurping away filled the room as you suckled his cock.

You relaxed your jaw and wrapped your tongue around his shaft, softly squeezing his cock like your hand would as you bobbed your head.

You gagged as he pressed your head down unexpectedly. Your eyes looked up at him, to find him lazily resting his head in his palm. He didn’t make a move as you moaned gurgling around him, the vibrations making him twitch in your mouth.

What a clever minx you were, thinking that if you sucked him off he would forgive you…silly girl.

Your tongue jerked him off slowly, urging him to spill his cum down your throat.

Alastor let out a soft grunt as you fondled his balls. The sensation of your warm mouth and tongue squeezing him was so good.

”You want my cum dear?’ He petted your head, hand swiping your hair out of your face. You moaned, nodding as you picked up your pace.

”Then don’t waste a single drop” his cock twitched and with a hard tug of your tongue he coated your throat, spilling his cream down your throat.

You sighed as you tugged at his cock, welcoming every drop that shot down your throat. You pulled off him with a pop and showed him your full mouth, before swallowing.

You leaned back onto your knees, a knowing smile on your face, thinking that he had let you off the hook.

but oh how wrong you were…

”Oh don’t think you can suck my cock and ill just forgive you dear, you refused to obey a summoning so now you’re going to have be punished” he said as he tucked his cock away into his pants.

You blinked surprised. Punishment?

He patted his lap, his brow quirked at you.

You gulped as you slowly crawled into his lap. His hands ran along your spine before palming your ass. You nuzzled into his shoulder, a silent plea.

He pulled your tight skirt over your ass, toying with the lacy panties you wore.

”Let’s see how many lashes do you deserve? Hmmm you ignored my initial summoning, thats 10, then you had the nerve to talk back, being a little brat thats 10 more…” His hands were kneading your ass harshly. You whimpered. “Then you thought you could get out of punishment by voluntarily sucking my cock…that makes 30 darlin’ ” You tensed. He was gonna spank you 30 times?

”You’ll count and then you’ll take the rest of your punishment accordingly. Am I clear?” he pressed a kiss to your shoulder.

”Y-Yes Alastor” A hard smack sounded and your body seized.

He tsked at you, smoothing the stinging cheek “I taught you better than that”

”Y-Yes sir” You whined, your hands digging into the chair cushion.

”Good girl now start”

He smacked your other asscheek.

”o-one”

five.

ten.

15.

20.

25.

You were a quivering mess, clenching your teeth as tears ran down your face. Each smack harder than the last.

Your ass was on fire. Your cunt was tingling. You were sure you had soaked your panties. You prayed he didn’t noticed. He smoothed the hot flesh, giving you a little comfort as you shook in his lap.

”You’re almost done c’mon”

SLAP SLAP SLAP!

”2-28”

SLAP SLAP!

”30! It hurts please” you all but sobbed in his shoulder. Alastor kneaded your ass softly, your skin was hot, probably red with his handprints.

”Ooh you did so well but…” his fingers dipped down the crack of your ass, feeling how wet you were through your panties

”You seemed to enjoy your punishment. What a naughty girl.”

He ripped your panties, throwing them somewhere, bringing his fingers back to your weeping cunt.

You let out a soft moan as he dipped his fingers inside you. pushing your hips down to feel him deep.

He scissored his fingers, stretching you, toying with your insides as you tried to ride his fingers.

He slipped his fingers out of you, bringing them to his lips and licking your slick off.

He leaned your body back, removing your face from his shoulder, taking in your flushed face and watery eyes.

”At my feet” he said.

You slide off him, legs shaking, taking your place at his feet. Your lip quivered as you sat there, ass stinging and cunt dripping.

He grabbed his microphone and tapped your thighs til you spreaded them. The cool head of his cane tapped your clit, making you jump.

”You want to cum, then you do it yourself pet.” His microphone head started to vibrate, you jerked away slightly. The sensation making you clench around nothing.

Alastor said nothing as he stared at you. A condescending smile on his face.

You slowly moved your hips along the head, biting your lips as you maintained eye contact with him.

With how wet you were, you coated his microphone in your slick.

A low whine tore from your throat as your clit bumped against the vibrations just right.

”please” you moaned as your hips moved faster. Your orgasm approaching, you leaned back, hands on your ankles as you humped the cane like a dog. Trying desperately to reach your orgasm.

But you couldn’t.

It wasn’t enough.

It wasn’t him.

It wasn’t his cock making you cum.

”I-I can’t ah! Alastor p-please please ” you begged.

But Alastor wasn’t going to grant you your sweet wish. He grinned down at you, moving his mic to focus on the sensitive bud. You flinched “Ooooh what’s the matter my dear? Isn’t this what you wanted?”

You clenched your eyes shut as you groaned in frustration. Alastor pulled the vibrating mic away from you, putting it aside as he stood. Your thighs clenched together as he pulled his leather gloves from his claws. You watched as he pulled his coat off, leaving him in the nicely pressed dress shirt that showed off his broad shoulders and tapered waist.

You wanted your legs on those shoulders and waist.

The thought made a soft purr escape your throat, causing you to blush and look away from him.

Alastor smirked. How cute you were. Trying to hide your desire in fear of the consequences.

“How about a switch in tactics dear? ”he said crouching down to your pitiful form. He hooked a finger under your chin for your eyes to meet his gaze. “I’m going to fuck you until I am satisfied. if you don’t cum Ill forgive you how does that sound?” He smiled.

You sucked on your bottom lip. This was a gamble. You were used to Alastor’s rut. He was rough, fucking until you didn’t have a single thought in your head.

But…if he was willing to forgive you, you’ll take anything.

Because one thing you couldn’t take was Alastor’s passive aggression he could easily dish out.

You nodded, sealing your fate.

”Lovely”

You were pushed onto your back, Alastor quickly settling between your thighs. You gasped feeling his cock slid against your slit, before he thrusted into you. He set a rough pace, growling as you arched up into him.

”Oh Fuck!” You moaned.

Alastor's hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing. He sneered “Look at you. Taking my cock like a good little whore. Nothing but a brat who needs to learn her place”

Your back ached at the force he was pounding into you. The sound of his balls slapping against your ass was all you could focus on.

”When I call you, you come. There shouldn’t be any ifs or buts. You come! This pretty necklace is my leash and when I tug you answer.” He bunched your thighs to your chest, pressing them as you panted out.

You slick was sticky, covering your ass and sticking to both of you. His hips plowed into yours, sinking his cock so deep to the hilt. He rocked his hips, enjoying the squelch your cunt made around him. You whimpered as his cock bumped against your g-spot.

“You never disobey me. You’re always my good girl. I’m always good to you aren’t I?” A harsh thrust pulled a strained gasp through your lips “Mine to do whatever I please with. I protect and provide and what do you give me in return?” Your claws dug into the floor, small dents appearing at the brutality of his thrusts.

You felt your orgasm coming back, your cunt tightening around him. Alastor tilted his head at you “ah ah ah” he hissed as he pulled his cock from you, creamy slick covering his cock.

Your cunt clenched around nothing and you cried as he nipped at your neck. He nosed your ear, cooing teasingly “No cumming remember?”

He fed your weeping cunt his cock, sinking til his balls rested snug against your ass. He stayed there as you wiggled around, hips shifting to try to get just a little bit of friction.

Alastor’s hips snapped into yours. High-pitched moans and soft gasps spilled from your lips as he basically plowed you into the floor. His breathe was hot as he growled in your ear “You better not cum” you whined.

easier said than done.

You could practically taste your orgasm. It was like a scale. Every rut of his hips had his cock hitting that soft sponge inside you pulled you closer and closer to knocking the scales over.

You were flipped onto your hands and knees and before you could stabilize yourself, Alastor had your cheek pressing against the cold floor and he thrusted back into you.

”Oooohh fuuucck!!” You screamed.

“Take it Take it thats a good girl. Taking my cock so well” he groaned, hips pistoling into yours.

You felt his cock twitch and automatically sunk your hips to take his cum, he chuckled “So you haven’t lost all your manners I see”pushing your back into a low arc, hand trailing your spine to wrap your hair around his claws.

”You gonna take my cum baby? Hmmm? You gonna be a good girl and take my cum” You nodded, your cunt was fluttering.

You were gonna cum.

“dont” his cock twitched as his started to stutter, with a low growl he thrusted deep into you as he cummed inside you.

That was the tipping point.

You moaned softly as you cummed around his cock, pushing your hips back to ride it out.

Tears rolled down your cheeks as your body shook.

Sharp claws kneaded the fat of your hips as Alastor pulled out of you.

”and here i thought you would be good hmmm” he sucked his teeth in disappointment.

He gathered you into his arms, wiping at your tears

”Oh what to do with you my dear” One of his hands parted your thighs, thumb rolling your puffy clit. You whimpered closing your thighs around his hand, which made him pinch your clit in warning. Soft kisses laced your neck and shoulder as he rubbed att you over sensitive clit.

”since you disobeyed me darlin, you’re gonna cum. Over and over. You’ll cum so much you wont even be able to cum after I’m done with you” he darkly promised.

And cum you did.

over and over.

You cried as your hips jerked, trying to get his now wet fingers away from your poor clit. Your body went slack in his hold as you cummed again.

“P-please”

Too sensitive

“Hmm darlin?” He patted your clit, grinning as you squirmed.

”no more please A-Alastor” you cried as he circled your clit again.

He kissed your quivering lip.

”hmmm since you beg so prettily” he worked your clit quickly and you winced as a quick orgasm shot through you, squealing as your hips quaked as a soft stream squirted out of you.

Alastor laughed as your body shook, head lolling against his shoulder as you panted.

”That’s a good slut”he whispered as your eyes closed.

@markster666 @okay-babe @alastor-simp @alastorsaries @alastwhore666 @thewinchestah @alastorsdear @strawberrypimp666 @polytheatrix @danveration @coleisyn @rradio-static @choaticallygoofy @yourworstgf @snowandnina @yoitsnetto @tpks @siiv3r @alastorss @pooplyface1423 @chewbrry @queenariesofnarnia @simphornies @v0xsw1fe @peachedtvs @wisteria-seal @altruisticalastor @stawberrypimpsimp @horrorartsworld @dennsfz @yunimimii @dievia3 @jellibean2018 @alastorsdarlingdoe @t0byisher3 @twismare @diamond-almond @lunaramune @scaramoochiie @kiralaufeyson84 @purplecatsandhearts @lbcreations-blog @alishii @yourdoorisunlocked @dasimp777 @bri22222 @fizzled-phoenix @fruityteacup @prosciuttosblog @alstorloml @ioniiaa

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor the radio demon #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #jyoongim #alastor x y/n #alastor smut #alastor hazbin hotel #Soft don alastor

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 3 months

Note

OKAY HEAR ME OUT HEAR ME OUT.

Grandma cat!reader. Who was a old women who got experimented on and turned into a smiling critter but like the caretaker of the smiling critters.

Often seen walking around with a scruffed smiling critter hanging from her mouth(somehow-) and overfeeding the smiling critters or children.

How would a saved dogday and (maybe) good catnap react to the player bringing them to readers containment room. (She was locked in before the Hour of Joy due to something and just stayed there)?

I just want to see them get some sort of parental love 🥹😖

- Marshmellow🤍

I swear ya'll are gonna make me cry with these requests /nm <3

.....

Dogday

In your old age, you didn't wanna retire from Playtime Co. and spend the remainder of your life laying around, waiting for your body and mind to deteriorate.

So instead you became one of the few willing volunteers for the Bigger Bodies Initiative, being turned into a Smiling Critter (which made you especially happy since your grandkids adored the toyline and cartoon show).

In the show, the gang mentioned a grandma character several times (albeit she was unseen) and with Catnap being recalled from all promo materials, Playtime Co. took creative liberties and made you the newest feline replacement, fitted with a cinnamon scent and pie necklace.

Your tagline was something like "The Smiling Critters take care of our orphans, but who takes care of them? Why, their Grandma [Y/n], of course! She's full of love and wisdom!"

True to that, you became the caretaker of the Critters and children, ensuring everyone's fed well and staying out of trouble.

The incident with Bron (Thomas/Experiment 1199) had scientists rethinking how they'd introduce willing experiments to those...well..less-than-willing.

So you had a supervised introduction to the SCs (with children also present to discourage them from reacting violently). You were even given a containment cell you could retreat to in case of emergencies.

Luckily, you never had to use that room--as they accepted you and began calling you "grandma" since day one.

Dogday, especially, got attached to you.

You called him "DD" and "Doggy-Dearie".

Being a bit taller than the rest of them allows you to pick them up by the scuff of their necks if they're being too rowdy (Kickin and Hoppy, especially).

Even so, you're very sweet to all of them, letting them snuggle up to you as you shared stories and made them food so they could keep up with the little ones.

All was well in the Playhouse up until the Hour of Joy of course.

But you were unaware of it since Catnap sabotaged your room's lock, keeping you trapped to lower the Smiling Critters' morale.

Dogday was 100% convinced you were dead.

However you survived long enough for the Employee's arrival years later, never knowing what happened to the factory..

After rescuing Dogday, they find your door and powered it up, allowing the two entry into the perfectly intact space within.

Your fur was matted and you looked sickly, but you still jump up upon seeing the state your dear "grandson" was in.

It devastated you.

"My word..Dog-Dearie.." Your heart shatters. "Your legs..where are they? Where is everyone?"

Something inside of him ultimately breaks as he realizes you were alive...and you were here all along.

"G-Grandma...! Oh...god..I-I thought you were--" He crawls away from the Employee and towards you, sobbing into your lap. "You were h-here..this whole time! I-I wanted to see you, but..C-Catnap..he.."

"Shh, shhh..I'm here now, my sweet pup. It's alright." You hush, stroking his ears and resting a paw on his back, before looking to the Employee. "You must be terribly confused..as am I.."

After explaining your role--and calming Dogday down--the two tell you about what's happened to the factory, and at first you can't believe it...

Until you all wander through the Playhouse and see the horrid state it's in, but they're confused as to why none of the mini Critters attack you.

Only then do you mention feeding them over the years through little vents and holes in the walls, keeping their hunger moderately satiated.

Dogday feels awful, and even more upset at Catnap for lying about your fate.

But still, you don't show any ill-will towards any of the Smiling Critters, even if one of them had betrayed you all.

Instead you just let Dogday cling to you as you escape together and try your best to keep up.

Catnap

Like the rest of the Smiling Critters, Catnap considered you family and often went to you for snacks and such.

Or if he needs a break from trying to put all the rowdy orphans to bed in Home Sweet Home. Only then is he given permission to see you.

He always liked curling up in your lap, purring while you stroke his fur and tell him a story (which is sometimes an event from your old human life, albeit you do accidentally confuse yourself since ofc you're not supposed to remember any details of your old life).

The Prototype sees this as a problem, as Theodore Catnap was getting a bit too comfortable with his life here and needed a reminder of his mission....and so he tells him the truth.

About how you not only worked at the factory until you reached retirement age...but you were also a willing participant in the experiments.

And suddenly, he couldn't look at you the same way anymore. Only with resentment.

It wasn't fair.

You got to lead a long and fulfilling life. Theodore barely got the chance to grow up and be a normal kid.

You had the procedure and associated risks explained to you clear as day. Theodore never had the luxury of being warned ahead of time before he was grabbed and put under the knife after recovering from the incident with the green grabpack hand.

All he wanted was to free the others, but he ended up becoming their warden instead.

He almost forgot all of that because of you.

He refuses your food now, and you worry for him when you see how skinny he becomes as the months pass.

But he's very cryptic in the way he talks to you, the other SCs, and the staff...so you didn't know for sure what you did to upset him so much.

"Catnap, dearie..you're skin and bones. Let me-"

"I know what you were, and what you've become...the Prototype told me so."

You don't know what to say. What could you say when he kept talking about this "Prototype" person?

Despite his hatred, the SCs were conditioned to love you regardless, and so before the Hour of Joy Catnap decided to sabotage the locks of your containment room.

That way, he wouldn't be tempted to kill you...and he'd spare you from the grief of what he ends up doing to the other SCs, including Dogday.

Years later, when the Employee finally knocks some sense into him after saving him from being sacrificed to the Prototype, he takes them to your room, believing you to be dead from starvation.

Instead, though, they break you out and he discovers you're very much alive.

And Catnap just breaks down, groveling and begging for your forgiveness.

You were the one who always tried to reach out and comfort him, giving him some relief from the misery of being trapped in this factory....and he pushed you away.

But you don't hate him for locking you up, realizing that he still cared about you after all this time. Even when the Prototype told him about your past.

He wanted to keep you safe.

That alone proves he had a heart, and you reassure him of that as he cuddles up to you for a little while.

Once he's calmer, you go with him, Dogday (assuming he was saved), and the Employee to meet with Poppy and Kissy--both of whom are relieved to see you alive

#clanask #marshmallow anon #poppy playtime x reader #ppt x reader #catnap #dogday #catnap x reader #dogday x reader #platonic #grandma reader #toy reader #headcanons #hurt/comfort

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remuslovebot · 5 months

Note

Felix loves being soft towards you in any way

we need more fluff with felix <3

i hope you enjoy xx

i feel like felix would be the softest boy towards you. he would stay in bed with you as much as possible before having to go down to breakfast with the family. you two would walk into the dining room with his hand on your back.

he just wants to spend all his time with you and he never wants to be parted from you.

felix likes to whisper sweet nothings in your ear. especially if you two are cuddling. on the couch you lay in his lap, his arms wrapped protectively around your waist. you are comfortable, laying your head on his chest.

you are both watching a film in the library, letting the days of summer pass by. during the day, you lay on a blanket and read while felix smokes a cigarette and admires your beauty.

at night you lay out underneath the stars and watch the night sky. felix is on his back, smoking a cigarette. you’re head is on felix’s chest. while you are admiring the night sky, felix is admiring you.

“it’s so breathtakingly beautiful, isn’t it?” you ask, wondering how a sky could be as vast as what you’re looking at.

felix is only trained on you, “it’s gorgeous,” he says softly, not taking his eyes off you as he takes a drag of his cigarette.

you cuddle into him and he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer.

“if you’re cold we can go back inside? im sure my bed is warmer,” felix smirks.

you look up at him and smile softly, “it’s nice out here, im not cold.” felix kisses your forehead softly

felix wants to please you, so he’s always doing something to make you happy. he’ll buy you a necklace with your name on it, pearls, fancy dresses for dinner with his family, etc.

when you and him are at oxford, he takes out on the best dates. you want to chill, grab a coffee and look at books? done. he will take you out.

#felix catton x reader #felix catton headcannons #felix catton drabble #felix catton x reader fluff #jacob elordi x reader #jacob elordi #saltburn #felix catton x y/n

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princessbrunette · 6 months

Note

All i can think about is rafe cameron buying you stupidly expensive lingerie sets for christmas😵‍💫 and then after breakfast he asks you to model them🤭

SANTA BABY ♡

gettin me in the festive spirit hehehe this made me wanna spend xmas with the cameron’s so bad :((

cw: christmas duh, family bonding time, i aged Wheezie down to be like 6 years old bc i think it would be cute idk LMAOOO , suggestive themes but nothing too crazy ❀

At his core, Rafe Cameron liked to think he was a family man. He’d often flip out, misbehave, and shit talk his family members it’s true, but Christmas was a time he liked to put it all behind him (Atleast until the new year starts, and he can start up his usual BS)

As you can imagine, Christmas at the Cameron’s was something extravagant. Humungous white christmas tree with silver decorations at the centre of the house, the outside of the house decked with lights that required enough power to start up 3 yachts, fake snow on the porch and Frank Sinatras Christmas album playing round the house at each corner. The years had only softened Ward, and whilst he could be cruel, hard on Rafe and borderline forgetful of Wheezies existence — Christmas was where he shone brightest, just wanting to do right by his kids and now, you, his sons girlfriend.

Receiving presents from the family was a whole different ballgame to your usual Christmas at home, Ward having grinned ear to ear when he handed you the box with the Tiffany’s heart tag charm bracelet glittering under the Christmas lights of the early morning (Wheezie being Wheezie woke everyone up at 6AM sharp.) Rafe, who’d insisted you’d curled right up to his side on the couch wearing his robe resisted an eye roll, his dad always having to out do him, but you seemed elated and he felt his heart warm.

They went all out, Rose handing you a literal 90’s Blumarine runway piece she’d simply overheard you talking Rafes ear off about, the next 5 minutes spent by you and Sarah fawning over it. Sarah’s gift was next, a set of SKIMS dresses you’d been saving to your Pinterest which she couldn’t help but notice, and of course Wheezie proudly handing you a glittery macaroni necklace she’d crafted you at school, which you had no choice but to act like it was the best gift of all.

Come Rafe’s turn, he simply offered his family a smile and patted your side, turning his head to look at you. “I’ve got her presents in my room, figured I’d give it to you privately.” He teases, ignoring Sarah’s ‘Barf’ comment from her cross legged position on the floor beside her little sister.

The family dispersed for a little while, Sarah helping Wheezie set up her new toys on the carpet infront of the tree, Rose and Ward going to start up the food in the kitchen (Ward insists on cooking everything themselves instead of having the chefs do it, because it was tradition.) Before you could wander in there and offer your help, you were being pulled back gently by the arm into your fluffy robe clad boyfriend wearing a poorly masked excited smile. “What, you don’t want your present from me?”

He slides a box from under his bed when you get up to his room again, covered with thin pink gift paper to hide the logo. He sits on his chair, robe falling between his legs and bare knees exposed outwards. “C’mon, sit on santas lap.” He grins and you mirror him, skipping over, happy and spoiled and perching on his leg. He puts the box in your lap and you peel away the paper to see the Agent Provocateur logo with the iconic black ribbon. You widen your eyes at him as if to say ‘Okaaaay, good job’ before wedging your fingertips carefully beneath the cardboard lip and lifting it, seeing 5 sets before you that was perfectly accustomed to your taste.

You remember your trip to the city with Rafe, it was business of course — but you were happy to tag along and walk alongside him watching him handle things for you and his family. You’d spotted the fancy lingerie store, practically pressing yourself up against the glass of the window as you look inside rambling about how you had so many of the sets saved to your Pinterest, pointing out each with your finger smushed to the glass. Rafe nodded distractedly, phone pressed to his ear, leaning on his hip in his gridded shirt and khaki pants that fit too good, before gesturing to you with his thumb that the two of you needed to get moving again, or else you’d be late to the appointment with a buyer. You pout and peel yourself away from the store.

But that was like what, September? Did he go back and buy it all for you? Order it once he’d returned home with you? You’d know Rafe to hold a grudge, but didn’t know his memory served in a positive manner too. “Rafe…” You coo, plucking out the sets and holding them up to admire the intricate lace detailing, spotting matching garters and whatever else you’d mentioned laying in the box. The thought of him fumbling through your underwear drawer trying to figure out your bra size made you giggle, wrapping an arm around his neck in an appreciative squeeze.

“How’d you remember?” Your voice was high in awe, wanting to hold on to this sweet side of Rafe forever.

“Please, I pay attention sometimes y’know.” He smirks modestly, eyes on the box as he admires his work. “So you like it? Yeah?” His hands finding your hips and giving them a soft squeeze.

“Love it, Rafey.” It comes out muffled, because you’re busying yourself with pressing big wet kisses to his cheek, and then eventually his mouth. He pulls away a fraction, lips still brushing yours and eyes cracking open.

“Gonna try it all on for me though, right?” He drawls in that classic Rafe way that you can never say no to and you nod so vigorously you nearly headbutt him. He pats your butt with a pleased hum and pecks you once more. “Atta girl.”

#anon #rafe cameron drabble #rafe cameron prompt #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron fluff

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praeluxius · 4 days

Text

Rendezvous

part 5 of folie à deux. masterlist

male reader x rei and liz of IVE (ft. sakura, wonyoung, yujin, etc.)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7

words: 12.2k

rendezvous - a meeting at an agreed time and place

Gaeul pulls up her underwear then turns to the other two girls and asks, "is Rei running late?"

"She's probably humping another stranger." Wonyoung retorts, laughing a little under her breath, hiding her smile from Gaeul by turning toward the mirror. She picks up the red lipstick laid out on the vanity table and brushes it across her plump lips.

"She's not coming here," Yujin explains. "She's going to the party with Liz."

"And we're okay with that?" Wonyoung raises an eyebrow and looks at Yujin through the mirror.

"Don't worry, I already added Liz to the list to make up for it."

"Really? Just like that?" Gaeul is quick to speak with a little worry in her voice.

"Really," Yujin smirks. "Also, I think Rei is giving up on the whole fucking strangers thing. She had another disappointment today."

"Oh right. That explains it." Wonyoung places the lipstick down and picks up the earrings laid out in front of her. "She did ask me if she could borrow our friend for a night and get some good dick."

"She did?" Yujin's interest seems peaked by the comment, as she casts her gaze out and off into the distance.

"Yes," Wonyoung punctuates her statement with a firm nod. "Wouldn't surprise me if she already hopped on that this afternoon."

"I was with him this afternoon, Wony, so..." Yujin trails off.

"Did he rush off?" Gaeul asks and Yujin frowns slightly at the thought of you dumping her to go fuck her friend. "At least he's in safer hands with Rei instead of that slut from the bar," Gaeul utters her words through an aggravated grumble as she sits in her chair, leaning in toward her mirror to finish the final touches to her makeup.

"Slut?" Yujin asks, picking up a bra from her dresser. She pulls the straps over her bare shoulders, slips her arms through, and clasps it behind her back.

"Minju."

"Minju Minju? Kim Minju?" The half-naked Yujin looks at Wonyoung for confirmation.

"Yes," Wonyoung says as elegantly as ever, standing tall and turning away from the mirror. "Now, will one of you help me into this dress?"

"Wait." Yujin raises a hand. "He was at a bar with Minju? Drinking? When?"

"Yesterday," Gaeul says as she stands up and collects Wonyoung's dress and carries it over to the naked and waiting woman.

Wonyoung is waiting with her hands on her bare hips. Her slender body is smooth and exposed. She is a thing of perfect symmetry with her flat stomach and small but perky breasts. "Yeah, and they were doing a lot more than drinking."

"Wonyoung," Yujin steps toward her, one hand on her elbow and the other softly clenched by her chest. "What are you saying?"

"Let's just say..." Gaeul pauses to let Wonyoung step into her dress and then she drags it up and lets her slide her arms into it. "A lot of bars smell. But most of them aren't locked when they should be open and don't smell of sex when they finally let you in."

Wonyoung settles into her dress, and Gaeul fits it tightly to her frame. Wonyoung lifts her hair up and lets it fall over her shoulders. "You should hurry up if you want to make the most of him, Yujin, before everyone you know has used him, and you'll be the last." Wonyoung looks at Gaeul who's still touching the dress up behind her. "Well, almost the last."

"Who says I want to..."

"Please Yujin." Wonyoung interrupts. "I'm sure the teasing is fun and all, but trust me, nothing compares to a good, proper fucking." Wonyoung stretches her arm to the dresser to pick up her necklace which's expensive enough to put a pair of twins through university three times over. Wonyoung places it against her neck, holding the ends out for Gaeul. She bunches her hair up again for Gaeul to clasp it. "Am I right, Gaeul?"

Gaeul keeps silent while she works. Fastening the hook and letting it drop along the nape of Wonyoung's pale white neck and hang just over her collarbones.

"I have plenty of time," Yujin says. "We're keeping him around, aren't we?" She flips her head as she runs her hand through her hair. She slips a finger beneath one of the bra's straps and adjusts its position on her shoulder.

"Well, that is the plan." Wonyoung nods after letting her hair fall again. “He doesn’t have much choice now.”

"Oh, he will have a choice,” Yujin speaks through a smirk. “But the result will be the same."

"I like things dirty. Natural. That’s just me."

That's her response to you asking exactly how she lives in the hellhole you just left. An answer as serious as you will ever get from Minju.

There's an awkward couple of seconds where you check to see the driver's reaction and you lock eyes through his rear view. The narrow cut of his face doesn't give you the full expression and you can't tell if he's disturbed or impressed. After a moment it passes and you focus back on the girl to your side.

"Where do you even eat?" you ask.

"Take-out, duh." You both share a look and Minju is smiling with her eyes. "I just put it on my lap when I sit down."

"But where do you sit? The ground?"

"Preferably on your co—"

"Hey, we're close now." You cut her off before she makes it even more uncomfortable for the driver.

"Swing a right here," Minju calls out to him. He shoots another look back in the mirror, this time his furrowed brows show his annoyance. "And pull up on the left."

Minju telling the guy how to do his job is actually a very Minju thing to do. As unappreciated as it may be.

You check your watch. Fifteen minutes late. Great. Hopefully, you can slip in and the girls won't notice. You could play it off cool, say you've been there all along and they must have missed you. You would have to slip away from Minju though, she would give the game away.

Maybe she reads your face, or the silence might have been a clue. Minju taps your shoulder and tells you not to worry. Stop caring about what others think and just walk in like you own the place.

You step out first and rush around to get to Minju's door. She scoffs as you open it. "And they say chivalry is dead." Her words come paired with a grin. You offer your hand to hers which she takes and uses to help pull her up. She straightens herself out, and checks to see that her skirt is all aligned before looking up at you.

You close the door and the driver is quick to pull away. "Hey, Minju, maybe you can go in first and then I will—"

"Shh." She locks her arm around yours at the elbow. "Stop. Just walk."

She pulls, tugging you alongside her, you adjust your footing to walk alongside, arm in arm, as she guides you up the stairs to the man at the door. Minju rests her head on your shoulder. You don't ask, don't protest. You can feel how easy it is, with her walking at your side, and so you say nothing. Just like she wants.

The six-foot-four bouldering giant is the first to speak, "Minju. Haven't seen you here for a while. Welcome back." His wide face, chiselled with age and experience, splits in a welcoming grin.

Minju softly bows her head and you follow her lead. "Been busy," is the reply she gives.

The security gives one single nod and replies, "As they say, a busy person doesn't have time to be unhappy." He grins even wider this time.

Minju ignores the impromptu attempt at philosophy and you both pass by into the house. The place is huge; of course it is—it's a mansion in the hills. But even from the outside, you couldn't have expected this.

Straight ahead is a huge, curved stairwell. On either side of you, it opens into a series of corridors already full of a smattering of guests. Music pours from off to the left. The unmistakable rhythm of that one K-pop song you heard all last week but still don't know the name of. People are sitting around, lounges filled with men in the latest fashion and women dressed to perfection. Most if not all with drinks in hand.

"Let's get us a drink." Minju pulls gently on your arm. "I'm thinking tequila."

There's not much else you can do right now. Your hope of making a low-key appearance, blending in with the crowd and slipping through unnoticed, is completely lost now as Minju takes a long, slow and deliberate approach through the place. She keeps your arm linked with hers, and as she saunters, her stride is swayed.

You feel the call to arms. You straighten your back, broaden your shoulders and strut like you belong. A few heads turn. Probably more for her than you, but the confidence still builds. There's not a single person in sight you think who could question whether you belong or not. The trick, you realise, is not to doubt yourself. Just walk in like you own the place. Minju’s words echo in your mind.

Two girls catch your gaze from the corner of your eye. They have their hands by their mouth, sharing unheard whispers while looking in your direction as you walk by. It takes a few moments, to narrow them down and figure it out. It's the two girls who fought outside school the other day, clearly having settled their differences.

You both enter the kitchen to find a young woman wrestling a bottle of champagne. Rei struggles over and over until it eventually pops, much to her delight. She lets out a loud squeal of surprise and looks over at two of her companions who took a step back when it popped.

Rei's friend stands just behind her, stifling an unheard giggle. She takes the bottle from Rei's hands and begins to pour. Golden bubbles into a set of four flutes.

That's when Rei finally notices you. She screams some incoherent words and throws her arms around you, almost knocking you off balance to the floor and taking Minju with you. The girl is already drunk.

"Oh my god! Come, come, uncle, meet my friends."

"Uncle?" Minju remarks.

"Don’t ask," you whisper from the corner of your mouth before Rei pulls the pair of you along.

"This is Liz." She points to the lady with the silver-purple hair, holding the bottle of champagne. She wears a thin black lace choker on her neck above the low cut of her top. As well as a pair of black leather trousers that run into her heeled boots. Rei throws her arms around Liz's waist. "Hey Liz, did I tell you about my new sexy uncle who saves me like a knight?"

Her question meets a look of confusion and a narrow-eyed glance at you. The girl smiles at you, in a forced what-the-fuck-is-happening kind of way. She says something to Rei that you can't quite make out over the sounds of conversation around you.

One of the other girls picks up her glass before introducing herself. "Sakura." She holds out an elegant hand. A pretty girl with delicate features, a flawless complexion, and pink waves that flow over her shoulders. You reach out and take her hand. "Welcome to my house. I don't believe we have met." Her accent is lyrical and pronounced, with the right amount of cute.

You introduce yourself and barely finish doing so before Minju takes over. "Long time no see. Both of you. Come here Nako, Kkura." Minju breaks her lock with your arm to go embrace the two girls. She hugs the girls with affection. No love lost between them.

She's asking them a series of the usual questions. How's life? How are you doing? What happened to the person with the name you don't recognise? Have they moved to Australia? They did? How many months ago?

Then Sakura turns her attention to you.

"It is good you have a new friend." She tells Minju. "Did you meet him at a shoot?"

You think that's a compliment, at least.

Rei laughs before Minju corrects Sakura, "he's in my class, Kkura. He isn't a model." Rei tells her, still laughing. "I see what you're saying though, it's the eyes. Put him on an ad and I'm buying."

"I like his cheekbones," Kkura responds.

"I'm right here, ladies." They're talking like you're not in the room and your face is starting to burn.

"Sorry." Kkura's voice is sugary sweet. Her smile and coy gaze even more so. "Enjoy your night. I have more guests to greet." Sakura spins and struts away with Nako in tow, before stopping beside two men that seem a little lost.

"Come." Rei tugs your arm, almost spilling her drink on you. "What are you two drinking?" she asks, not waiting for a response.

"I'll just have a beer—"

"Tequila." Minju doesn't miss a beat.

"I don't think there's tequila..." Rei steps toward the liquor bottles and Liz silently follows.

"Ugh." Minju doesn't try to hide her disdain. "The champagne then." She looks over and picks up two full champagne flutes from the table.

"Did you two get a card yet?" Rei asks.

"Card?" you ask back.

"No, we haven't," Minju says before turning to you and handing you a glass. "Didn't anyone tell you? That's the rule tonight. Everyone has to take a card with a challenge that they have to complete, with evidence or a witness. Anyone who fails to do it by eleven has to do a forfeit."

"Does everyone know what's on the cards or what the forfeit is?"

"Nope," she winks, before downing her glass of champagne. "That's the fun. So what did you girls get?"

"Mine was easy," Rei says. "All I had to do was kiss a guy wearing white. Did that as soon as I came in." Rei points off into a distance somewhere. You can't make out where the finger ends its aim.

"And you, Liz?" you ask, and she avoids any eye contact with you.

"She might have to forfeit." Rei laughs. "Tell them what you got." She pats her friend on the back.

"Um, I— I have to... finger a woman..." She just about squeezes the words from her lips before she quickly takes a drink. Hiding her burning face behind a hand.

Minju's eyes open wide and you hear Rei giggle into her drink. "Have you ever?" you ask, and there's no need for her to answer you. The look of anxiety and panic on her face tells you everything.

"I offered to help," says Rei. "You know, as a friend. Still stands by the way."

"Thanks..." Liz forces the response through her covered mouth.

"What other stuff is in there?" you ask, pondering the possibilities.

"Liz probably got one of the hardest." Rei shrugs. "Some of them are just about drinking or other stupid dares."

"Or she got the best one," Minju comments. "We better get ours." Minju slides her arm around yours again.

Rei leans into you before you leave, whispering, "If it's a tough one, I can help." Then she slips away and Minju pulls on your arm.

"Thanks, girls, see you soon."

The rest of the crowd fills the rooms you walk through. People are already on the dance floor, holding their drinks as they bounce, or holding onto other people as the rhythm guides their bodies together.

In the next room, there are two tables, each with a person behind and people crowding at each of them. "So these are the cards, right? I hope I get an easy one..."

"I hope you get a tough one. What if you have to suck a cock?" Minju asks.

"Then I take a forfeit."

"Okay but what if the forfeit is that you have to suck two cocks?" She jokes and laughs.

"Funny..."

"Alright. I'm going first."

You're just about to follow her in when you hear your name called from behind. You know the voice without looking back, a smooth melody in song and one that tenses your body up. As Minju walks away, Yujin walks toward you.

You turn and there she is. Wow. It's only been a few hours since you saw her last, and yet, like every other time you see her, she blows you away. The red dress is, honestly, amazing. Fitting tightly at the waist, flattering her shape and highlighting those hips. As ever, she gave the outfit her own personal flair, wearing it a little different than when she tried it on earlier, with one strap off the shoulder now. The thing about Yujin is that, sure, someone could wear the same clothes as her, but they could never wear them like she does.

She has changed her hair too, pinning part of it up behind a piece of jewelled decoration. And then there's that smile. Perfect, dazzling. Full lips curled slightly at the sides, pearlescent teeth peeking through. The sparkling glint of her deep eyes looking up at yours.

She sees through the silence. "What's wrong? What are you staring at?" Her little giggle comes with a poke to the centre of your chest. It brings your focus back to reality. "Don't I look okay?"

"Yeah— of course— Yujin—" You say her name as if she isn't the absolute centre of your attention. She giggles a second time and draws a circle in the centre of your chest with her forefinger, tracing it and smiling as you struggle for words.

"What, do I have lipstick on my teeth or something?" She brings a manicured fingertip across her grin and you shake your head in return.

"Not that I can see," you answer.

"Then what are you staring at? See something you want?" She's teasing you but you manage to stumble through the answer.

"You look..." It doesn't matter what words you try and find. She does that half-lidded, cocking her head thing to the side and you're lost again. Lost to her, hypnotised by her. It's embarrassing.

The giggle grows into a laugh, her shoulders shrugging with amusement as she closes her eyes for a second, shaking her head softly. She places her hand on your collar, smoothing over the edge of your blazer and then adjusting it over your shoulders. "You dressed up well. Not used to seeing you in something so smart." She runs her hands down the front of your blazer, pressing it against your body to straighten it. "You look good," Yujin says with a final, gentle pat at the centre of your chest.

"I need to take a card." You brush over the compliment—you’ve never really been that good at taking them.

"Better hurry up before they're all gone, you don't want to have to do the forfeit. Once you get one, make sure you find me." She pokes her finger into your chest. "It's important, okay?" She bats her eyelashes at you. You promise you'll be there, you're sure of it, and then with a final smile, she leaves and heads towards a different room, slipping into the crowds.

The whole exchange is over far too quickly. The phantom touch of Yujin's fingers lingers on your chest, even as she disappears. You would stand, spellbound forevermore, a statue set upon the tiles, if it wasn't for the fact you look a complete fool standing and staring into nothing.

You turn to the tables and can't spot Minju in the crowd. You spend some time waiting, working your way forward as people collect their cards until you're at the front. A woman holds out a deck of face-down cards and you draw one from it, slip it into your pocket and quickly move on.

"You look lost. Like a lamb." The unmistakable sound of Wonyoung's voice rings out. "I'm surprised you even showed up. Last I heard you were crying into a whiskey." Her laugh has the venom of a snake, with an even worse bite. Her purple dress hugs her slender frame. It clings to the sharp contours of her shoulders. An expensive jewelled necklace rests in the centre of her bare upper chest.

"I wasn't crying..." You deny the accusation.

Wonyoung presses her hands to your shoulders, forcing you into place as she meets your eyes. "Wasn’t sure if you would show your face tonight. Don’t worry, no one knows what happened, and I can keep it that way." There's something about Wonyoung that always feels intimidating, especially now, with how her eyes seem to trap you and the way her voice plays out so assured, full of certainty and purpose. "But it’s a good thing you’re here. I need you."

"What do you mean?" It's been barely a minute and she's already asking things of you. She just brushes over the storm she caused and the damage she could have done to your life.

Wonyoung leans close and moves her lips to your ear. "You know that idiot boyfriend of mine? Well, I need him to catch us."

"You're joking, right?" you ask, and then after a brief moment of silence her message sinks in and you realise she isn't joking. "Haven’t we done enough damage?"

"I’m already solving your school issue, so the least you can do is help me out." She dismisses your problems as always. "Right now I need you to focus and help me make him break up with me." Wonyoung strokes your cheek. "Does that sound doable?"

You bite down into your lip, trying to contain your emotions and to keep your annoyance from bubbling to the surface.

"Great thanks. I will find you when I need you." With a cruel and patronising tap to your head, Wonyoung smiles smugly.

"I didn't even agree."

"You never said no to fucking me before. And it's not like Minju's pussy even comes close to mine."

She flashes a dark grin at you before disappearing through the crowds. Fuck you do have a type of girl, and fuck does Wonyoung and her attitude get under your skin. In some sick and twisted way, it still turns you on. Fuck.

It's probably about time to get away. To leave the party and this fucked up life. Anyone with a little bit of sense would. In the end, you just settle for going to the bathroom.

For five minutes you have been waiting and the line hasn't budged. Too many people waiting to use a single bathroom.

"You're Minju's date right?" You turn to find the pink-haired girl from earlier standing beside you. The one who owns this place. Her thin lips curve to a gentle, elegant smile that cuts across her pale complexion. You realise now, stood beside her, how dainty she is. Her petite frame matches her cute voice. "Are you waiting in line?"

"Yeah, I—" you reply, not fully sure where the question is leading but her widening smile interrupts you.

"Follow me." She starts walking, expecting you to not question her command. You walk behind her, her slim frame adorned elegantly in light fabric. Pink waves flow over her bare, exposed shoulder. Her heels strike the floor with a rhythm of confidence. She glides gracefully with poise and intent. Her every step is punctuated with a swagger you cannot match.

With her hair bobbing softly, she calls out your name. "Up here. Then the third door on the right. My close friends are allowed upstairs. And you, I guess."

"Oh. Thank you."

She says nothing else, just gliding away and leaving you at the base of the stairs.

After a quick climb you find the door she described. It's unassuming, a standard wooden door that looks identical to all the others. You put a hand to the cold metal and push. A coolness greets your fingers as the gap opens and you let yourself inside.

The bathroom is pristine. Immaculate. Spacious. Porcelain and polished. Glass and stainless steel. There's the familiar hum of a ventilation unit set into the ceiling, the fans circling in constant rotation. To the back, a large double shower, framed by the marble walls and lit by the mood-setting hue of soft lights.

Finally, a room in this place that, to your relief, is empty.

When you've finished up you head to the sink and wash. You lean over it to study yourself in the mirror, one last touch up of your hair and a pull to straighten out the creases of your clothes.

Then the door crashes open.

Rei stumbles in with all the poise of a newborn calf. "Hey, sexy uncle. Didn't know you were in here. How is my aunt?" She laughs in a raspy slur. "What were you doing? Oh." Her finger taps against her bottom lip, trying her best to appear conspiratorial.

"Nothing, I—"

Rei continues. "Playing with yourself?" She points to the zipper you forgot to close. "Hope you think about me."

You give your answer and say, "actually, I was just doing normal toilet stuff. Nothing weird."

"Boring." She declares, slamming the door behind her. Rei ignores you as she walks over to the toilet, slipping her hand under her dress and pulling down her underwear. You're immediately heading to the door, giving her the privacy she didn't even bother to ask for. "Where are you going uncle?"

"Back to the party." You're just about to turn the doorknob when her voice hits you in the back.

"Don't go. Don't leave me all alone."

You sigh, slouching your shoulders and loosening your grip on the door. "Only if you agree to stop calling me uncle."

"Okay, okay. Promise,” she says and then she mumbles something, laughing as she does. Eventually, she speaks loud enough to hear. "Stop staring at the door. You can look at me."

You turn to find her sitting there. A small pair of panties by her ankles. A smile on her face. Her smooth thighs jutted out from the bottom of her dress, bare down to her heels.

"Thanks again," Rei says. "You saved me today."

"Happy to help." You walk towards the sink and mirror again, unsure what to do with yourself.

Luckily, Rei refuses silence. "What's going on with you and Minju?" Unluckily, she's chosen the worst topic of conversation.

"We just met. We're friends I guess."

"Just buddies," she says playfully. "Fuck buddies."

"Do you only ever think about sex?" You ask, turning away and towards your reflection. Your question is answered only with the sound of her flushing the toilet.

There's the briefest moment of silence that follows until you can hear her steps on the tiles. She walks to your side, washing her hands and staring at you in the reflection. "I do actually. Especially when I was supposed to cum five hours ago and still haven't had the chance to finish myself off."

This girl is unfiltered. It's commendable that she is so true to her desires. So bold and honest in the face of the fear of judgment.

"Or maybe it's when I'm in the same room as an incredibly hot guy and my panties are still on the floor." There's a lustful rasp to her voice now. You turn to look at her, at the full, sparkling light in her eye, and you let your gaze wander lower. You stray to her shoulder, where her dress hangs loose. The dress clung across her frame, covering her bust but leaving enough for your imagination to formulate the shape of them beneath.

"Rei..." You draw her name out to a few syllables and with it a few extra moments for your thoughts to come together. "What are you thinking?"

"What is your thing?" Her question catches you off guard. "What do you like?" Rei brings her thumb to her lips, pushing it into her mouth and sucking gently. "Do you really like getting your cock sucked? What do you want?"

Her fingers stroke your chin. Soft pads massage and caress with a teasing, tantalising touch. Her face gets closer, inch by inch, and you can smell the sweet scent of her perfume. You can hear her ragged breath as she loses control. And your heart, beating like a drum inside your chest.

"I owe you one. And I'm ready to do anything." She says it with such unashamed candour and it sets your cheeks aflame.

"Do you do this for everyone who is nice to you?" you whisper.

She shakes her head, "only the really fucking hot ones."

You're close. Your breathing is shallow. Every part of you tells you it's a bad idea, but that's what is so enticing. That's why your cock is pulsing. She reaches forward and rubs her palm gently up and down over the bulge.

She gives you a gentle wink. "Tell me what you want. What's your favourite part of me? And don't give me something sappy like my humour. Think with your cock." As she says the words she squeezes her grip on it. Her fingers slowly closing, holding and massaging. Her lips are soft, slightly parted. That adorable face. Sparkling eyes. And the taste of the words that lingers on your lips.

"You have great legs." You indulge her in an answer.

"See, now was that so hard?" She buries her hand into your trousers through the open zipper. "So what will it be? My thighs? Knees? My feet? I usually don't like when people see my feet but if you're that desperate to cum on them. They're all yours."

You drop a hand down by her side and reach to grab her leg by the thigh. "You have great thighs."

You swear the excitement on her face could light up the city. "There we go. Tell me what you want to do." She pushes her hand around in your trousers, fishing out your cock.

You lean into her ear. "I want you to wrap those beautiful thighs around my cock." You can't believe the words you're saying to her. Neither can she. The sound of her shallow breath is ragged as she runs it through her mind. She nods.

"Then I will."

Rei gently strokes you to life, massaging you until the blood begins to rush. Soon enough, you are ready, hard and hungry. Your pulse quickens with every gentle rub of her hand. You slip a hand around the back of her neck. "Not a word to anyone." Your words make her giggle and she responds with a breathless shush.

You turn her to the sink, putting her between you and it and she releases your cock. Rei spits in her hand while you're hiking her dress up over her bare ass and then she reaches behind her to cover your cock in her saliva. With one hand you guide your cock and she gasps with excitement as you rest your length between her legs, pressing and grinding.

Rei looks at you through the mirror and smirks as she pressed her legs together, closing your slick cock between her thighs. "Use me. I want to see you enjoy this."

Your arms wrap her torso. You grab a firm breast through her clothes as your other arm wraps her. Pull her closer to you. Your mouth against her ear, feeling the warmth of her, breathing in the soft scents from her perfumes, you inhale it all.

Your mouth parts and you groan with the growing sensation building inside you. Her legs squeeze tightly around you as you slip back and forth between them. The way they hold you is incredible, snug and slick. Her skin smooth and grasping.

Rei reaches between her legs, putting her delicate touch on the tip of your cock poking between her legs. Her fingers pull at you, directing your cock higher between her thighs. Before long, you feel her folds envelop the tip. As wet as ever. Rei squeezes and grinds, pushing your tip against her clit.

"I want it all," she hisses through her teeth. You grip her flesh, holding her on the edge of what she craves. Slipping between her thick thighs over and over again, refusing to drive into her cunt.

You pull at her nipples through her dress. Tease. Bite her ear. Kiss her shoulder. Run your nose up her neck. Inhale her perfume. And the most torturous thing to ever do to Rei:

Slow down.

Your thrusts between her legs become measured. Deliberate. Long, hard and powerful motions, dragging over her slit. She whimpers, "why are you making me wait?"

In the mirror her features flush, eyes clench closed and lips tremble. A flush of red flows through her skin. Her breath quickens, rasping between every uttered plea. Your dick is throbbing. Your senses electrifying. Every part of you tenses with the burning urge. Every cell and sinew wants to drive into that incredible cunt but the drumroll is exquisite.

"Do it," Rei begs. The anticipation becoming a torrent for her, as much as your own, the joy of desire and the torment of denial.

"When I'm ready," is all the answer she will get from you.

"Please. I have needed a good cock all day." Her words fill the cool room. They bounce from the hard white surfaces. Dancing to the hum of the ventilation.

"This is you saying thank you, isn't it?" you growl into her ear. "My choice. I want your tits first."

Her lips utter the words 'whatever you want, yes' a few times over. Each utterance pleading, begging; each one filled with desire. Desperate to ease the tension inside, she quickly reaches up her back and unzips her dress for you. She peels it open to reveal her bare back and the strap of her bra.

You work at her bra while she slips out of her dress. It's all so rushed. Almost clumsy. Everything is loose now, and she shakes it all off, kicking it all to the side and turning to you, completely naked. "Fuck, you're hot," you say before realising. The words slip from you, unplanned, raw, genuine.

"I know." Rei grins and then she cups her tits, two perfect handfuls. "So you like these, huh?"

You nod.

She squeezes them, flesh spilling between spread fingers. "And if I give you them, then will you fuck me?"

She pouts those soft lips that drive you wild. She arches her back and presents them for you, waiting, hands by her side. Eager. The invitation is unmistakable. You bend her backwards against the sink, arching her lower back over the marble top and then pressing your body against her. "Yes."

You lower your head and smile at her, her stiff nipple right by your lips. You blow a warm, heavy stream of air over it and she giggles softly. You don't just take her offered tits. Not yet. Instead, you kiss between them, wrapping your tongue to lick up her torso, upwards toward her collarbones. You nibble the protrusion gently with your teeth. Her breaths become short sharp puffs as her body tenses with each graze.

You run your tongue back down again, towards a nipple. You take it into your mouth, licking and then biting. Slowly pulling at her nipple with your teeth, stretching and toying, listening for her moaning, soft and suppressed, with a rising note of pleasure.

She pats at the back of your head and squirms at each pinch of your teeth. You switch nipples, wetting it in your mouth and sucking at it, allowing it to release with a popping sound, and then giving it a quick bite.

Your hands begin to travel across Rei's body—traversing and wandering in their exploration of her skin. Grabbing and feeling, always squeezing her softness with lust in one moment and adoration the next.

"Can't wait any longer,” she says in frustrated impatience. Rei strokes the back of your head, raking her nails against your scalp. She leans back, supporting herself on one arm and pushing her chest out towards your face. She closes her eyes and hums.

You think that Rei enjoys a little more biting than is conventional. Enjoying a small amount of pain with her pleasure, you know it when she moans loudly every time your teeth tug at her sensitive flesh. Her hands pull at the base of your skull and grasp at your hair. Her body moves beneath you, desperate to find any sort of friction between her legs. You can see the pleasure and pain in her expressions alternating between one another. Rei moans your name out. A hushed whisper, begging you to fuck her. To put her out of her misery.

"Patience," you tell her. The single word causing so much frustration.

She groans through gritted teeth before buckling under your teasing. Rei mutters, "Just fuck me with your big fucking cock already." Her hands desperately pull you from her chest, but you refuse. She continues her pleas; begging you to stop being so cruel; to take mercy on her; that her aching cunt can't wait another second.

She's reaching for your trousers now, unfastening them and pushing them away from your hips so they fall to your ankles.

"On your knees first."

Rei's eyes go wide at your demands.

She pouts, but the blush on her cheeks is unmistakably eager. She falls from the sink onto her knees. Rei has that look in her eyes, an appetite, and it shows as clear as day. You're holding her by the hand and pulling her as you find a seat on the side of the bath.

Rei crawls over, a naughty grin plastered across her face. She presses her palms onto your knees and parts your legs for her to take her place between them. As soon as she has a close-up of the prize, she all but licks her lips with excitement, grasping a hold of it tightly. "Oh god, it's so big," Rei's eyes light up in delight as she feels the thickness and weight. "Fuck me. Why did you keep this big, beautiful cock from me until now?"

Her fingers run up and down over it gently—just soft grazes against your skin. Soothing. Tender. When her tongue first touches the underside of your head, it sends shivers through you. Rei drags it up, sliding and caressing, all the while keeping eye contact with her fluttering, batting gaze. Then she runs the very tip across her plump, kissable lips, leaving behind a wet line before diving forward and wrapping her mouth around you.

A soft 'fuck' escapes you at the warmth of her mouth engulfing you. She smiles, pulling away and then admiring your cock with her teeth biting the flesh of her bottom lip. Rei kisses her way down the bottom of your shaft before just staring at it again. "It's so perfect. Your cock is literally a fucking work of art."

"It's going to look even better pressed between those beautiful tits," you reply to her compliment.

She takes the hint and pushes her tits towards it. "My tits love your cock already." Rei presses your cock against her nipple and pushes, teasing. "But not as much as my pussy will."

"Rei." Her eyes are lost in their new interest. You run a hand over the side of her face. The soft skin of her cheek. Pushing her hair behind an ear. Touching her lips gently with your thumb. "Will you put those amazing tits to good use? For me?" You ask as you push your thumb into her mouth, which makes her look up at you and she accepts it.

She nods her agreement.

"Good girl, Rei," you reply. Your voice is calm, smooth, and silky. The reaction you receive is everything you could hope for. Her pupils widen, her ears redden, and her face flushes. The combination of praise, and a dominant tone and touch, seems to really make her glow.

Rei obliges to the command.

Wet with her saliva, Rei's breasts wrap around your aching cock with ease. Her skin is soft and velvety. Flesh mouldable and forgiving. So warm. So smooth. Perfect.

Once your cock is settled between the swell of her breasts, Rei rocks her chest against it. A steady movement up and down; the sensual rubbing of flesh. Rei looks up at you, the hunger written plain to read across her face as she slides her tits against you. Her fingers intertwine across her tits, holding them together. She moans gently against your thumb as your cock continues to protrude from her cleavage over and over. The sounds reverberate inside her warm, wet mouth, stimulating as they tickle against your skin.

The ache inside you, the tense of muscle and flexed sinews—it builds. Pools and twists and heats in the centre of your body. Rei moans again. She talks through it too. The thumb pressing inside her mouth inhibits it only slightly. "I need it in my pussy. I would even take it in my ass right now. I need you."

Truth is, you need to fuck her just as badly now, too. "Stand." Immediately, Rei's shoulders drop as she pulls her breasts away and follows your order. "Bend over the sink."

"Finally." She's grinning when she moves. Placing her feet wide and leaning on the marble of the sink. You follow her every step.

You run a hand down her leg, gripping behind the knee and hooking it into the air, planting her leg onto the surface. She's open and so very willing. You draw your cock against her a final time, watch her contorted face in the mirror, and then slide into her.

Her eyes flash open and her jaw drops agape. A breathless silence. Now a burst of laughter broken by gasps for air. She grins and giggles and moans as you pound into her from behind. Her small hands claw against the sink, scrambling for something to hold to stabilise herself and support against the onslaught.

A hand on her hip to keep her in place, you reach the other to her neck. You grab and pull, rearing her back. Draw her flush with your body. Her soft skin against your chest. Her long hair is on your shoulder. She laughs again as you do it, sweet pleasured giggles that just don't stop.

"Harder, harder." She strains the words through the squeezing of her throat.

"Like it rough?" you spit into her ear and her lips turn in a grin.

"Like it rough." Her voice a coarse mess. Saliva runs from the corner of her mouth, tinted pink by her lipstick.

You slide your grip up from her neck, fingers along her jaw, thumb and finger pressed into her cheeks. "Fuck. You were right. Pussy so good I can see why guys struggle with you." You pull her head backwards and grind deeper into her. Tight and wet. Her cunt hugs so perfectly around your length that you worry she won't let you out.

"Wony was right. Best. Fuck. Ever." Every single thrust draws the words out into a pathetic moan, and then she laughs again and she strains to force more words. "Gonna cum."

You slip your hand back down to her throat and she grabs at your wrist, not to resist your grip or pull you free, only to reassure and to let you know what she wants. You grip and squeeze.

"Cum for me you pretty slut." Your voice is husky as your will consumes you. Her cries fill the bathroom, her ecstatic bliss heard a thousand times over as she feels her ecstasy roll through.

There is no gentle passing through her orgasm. You care not for how it plays. You don't ride the waves and slow your pace to accommodate it. Her cum spills warm around your cock. Slippery juices seep to her thighs and drip onto the floor as you keep up the relentless pace of your hips, each drive forward, piercing. Her body held against the marble, with her waist pressed against the edge. Her hands are frantic. Scrambling once more for support as you tear her apart with fervour.

"Rei?” The door opens. “Everything okay? Oh, fuck."

Liz stands in the doorway, stunned and staring. She's about to turn away and run out of the room but before she can step away, Rei speaks through her pleasure.

"Liz. Fuck." The words spill from her breathless mouth. Liz turns back to see the girl cumming again. You can see the astonishment in her gaze, unable to look away, drawn to the display of ecstasy. This time you slow and your hand slips away from her throat.

Rei squirms against the marble counter. The second wave crests and passes and this time her mind does clear. Your cock slows to a stop in her. Rei whips her head around to look at Liz.

"What the fuck?" Liz takes a step back, halfway out of the room, the door almost closing.

"Wait! Come here,” Rei calls out and Liz steps forward again. "Close the door. Quick."

Liz moves toward you and closes the door behind her. She presses herself back against it, watching in amazement as you freeze, still buried in her best friend. You were so blinded by fucking Rei that you didn't even consider stopping, but as rationality takes back over and the situation takes shape in your mind, you suddenly feel trapped under Liz's gaze. You dare not to look in her direction.

For all your tension, Rei is a complete contrast. Relaxed. The utter ease with which she just smiles, looks Liz directly in the eye and says the most casual, inappropriate things. "I'm more than okay. How are you?"

"I—" the question catches her off guard and she stammers an awkward, jolted sentence. Her eyes move to the space between you and Rei where you're still connected. She opens her mouth as if to speak but no words come out. She stutters another broken attempt. Liz eventually shakes her head and replies, "good. Not good. I mean okay. Well, good, but not because—"

She's stumbling over her words until Rei stops her. "Think we have a bit longer in us." She looks over her shoulder to you. "Not gonna cum yet, are you?"

"No," you reply. Entirely confused and a little uncomfortable—not sure exactly what is happening right now. You look back at Liz and she's staring right at you. Wide eyes, open mouth. It's not quite fear you're seeing in them, not disgust either. A cocktail of emotions playing on her face that you wish you could unpick.

"Want to join?" Rei asks. The question hangs in the air. Her tone is light and playful as if it's the most normal question in the world. She can't possibly mean that. She has to be joking. A jest for entertainment and Liz's amusement.

"Isn't this Wonyoung's...?" Liz leaves her question incomplete, letting Rei finish the thought.

"I already asked her. He's fair game." She did? When was this? Does that mean Rei planned to fuck you all along? The confusion only worsens the more you think. Your brain hurts trying to make sense of this. The absolute weirdness of it. And despite it, or rather, because of it, you find this whole thing so much... hotter.

Liz pushes herself off the door and says, "we did talk about it that one time..." She takes a step forward and then continues, "how we wanted to share a guy. But him? Here? Now?"

Liz takes another step forward and you take a tentative step back, slipping out from inside Rei and standing exposed. She gives an offended little groan of displeasure and then slips her leg down from the sink and turns to face you. Suddenly you're feeling lonely and exposed with the two girls staring at you.

"Yeah. Why not?" Rei asks Liz so casually. So blasé. Like she was suggesting what to eat for dinner and not asking Liz to join in a threesome. "And it's not like he would mind. Look how hard he is." Liz stares at the state of your cock. Twitching in the air. Lubricated with Rei.

Liz drags her eyes back to your face and asks you, "do you want me?"

As if you could ever say no. To those large round eyes. To her delicate mouth. The slender body beneath the cocktail dress. To those hips that sway as she continues to walk until she's standing next to Rei.

Rei reaches behind Liz, holding her by the ass and pushing her the final step toward you. Liz instinctively reaches, taking gentle hold of your wet cock. She's standing so close that her tits just graze against your chest. You look down slightly at the woman who's looking back up at you.

Rei asks you now, "do you want us?"

You stay paused for a moment, glancing at Rei for half a second before returning to Liz's stare. You nod gently then lean in to kiss her. The moment your mouths touch your hands begin roaming, one groping for a breast and the other to her lower back, holding her in close. Her tongue presses into you with the urgency you need and she holds you tight by the back of your neck.

You forget about Rei for a moment, giving everything to Liz. Stifling moans of your excitement into her mouth. Your hands feel over her, exploring her from hips to chest to waist—everywhere—before sliding her zipper down over her back and stopping just short of her ass.

Liz stops to catch her breath and it's the moment Rei waited for. One girl at your mouth and one at your neck, the kiss a wet mass of three people fighting with tongues and lips. A hand, presumably Liz's, strokes you gently and with a rhythm. Another on your lower back and another helping you push away Liz's dress. Rei's teeth pinch your neck and a familiar laugh rings out.

"So fucking hot," she whispers in your ear before she bites at your lobe.

Liz's dress falls free from her body, piling by her feet. You pull back for a moment. A moment to drink this beauty in. To see her stunning figure. Standing before you in heels, breasts jutted, is the image of perfection. Rei moves behind her, unclasping her bra and it joins her dress on the floor, revealing perky breasts that yearn for your touch.

Your mouth attacks her and her hands are clutching at you, gripping your head, neck, arms, anything she can as you suck a nipple into your mouth. Your hands explore over her skin. Trailing every part, learning her curves, the contours. The way they flow and mould and ripple.

"Don't hog the good parts," Rei hisses in your ear, breaking the trance Liz's tits had you caught under. Your hand and hers fight for the right to touch Liz. All while her eyes roll back from the bliss of being touched so hungrily.

Rei runs a delicate hand between Liz's legs and she tenses for a moment, sucking in a gasp. Her mouth contorts. Another gasp as Rei continues to brush over the fabric nestled between her thighs.

"Tell him what you want, Liz."

She stammers, gasping again before replying, "Want to ride. Ride his cock." She has barely taken her hand off it this whole time she was being undressed and now she rubs it a little faster. Squeezing a little tighter.

Things start to move in a bit of a blur, unsure of whose hands are on whom or whose mouth and body are pressed against yours as all three of you shuffle towards one side of the room. Somewhere through it, Rei took the lead and made sure you found yourself sitting on the lid of the toilet. Liz's underwear have long since been discarded and she's found herself perched on your thigh.

Liz wraps her arms around your neck as she straddles your leg. She's wrapping her body around you. Grinding against you. Making desperate sounds. Reaching with her mouth to find yours and planting her kisses.

Rei sits on you too, having helped off whatever remained of your clothes. She grinds too, using your other thigh. Rubbing her wet pussy on your leg, while the fingers of one hand comb and massage over your hair while her other trails her nails lightly over your skin. Her lips are soft against your shoulder. The smell of sex fills your nose. You breathe it in, finding yourself wanting.

Rei is so very dangerous to your senses. The softness of her touches. The sensual, raspy tones of her whisper in your ear. How your cock pulses with every plea.

"Keep your dick ready. We will put it to such good use." The first of many dirty promises and sweet nothing Rei whispers as the minutes draw past. She grows ever more erratic. And in contrast, Liz is controlled and measured, fucking her cunt against your leg with focused intent.

They writhe and roll their hips with the urgency of their heat. Wet, pink, and needy cunts, gliding over your skin. Desperate for friction.

"Oh Liz!" Rei moans.

"Ah! Fuck! Don't—”

Liz moves. Unsure, jolting, wracked and robbed of rhythm. It's in those moments Rei leans in for a kiss. Both girls writhe with pleasure, hands to breasts and mouths joined. It's at once an incredible sight. Incredibly erotic and exotic. The display of sensuous want. Skin aflame. Dew of their heat collected.

"Please fuck him," Rei breathes her demands through ragged and frantic breaths. Rei stands and guides, drawing Liz towards your cock, impatient and urgent, with a vice-like grip on her arm. "He is so good," she says through laboured breaths and wet pants.

With Rei's guidance, your dick finds its place between the folds. Wet and silky. Plush and sticky. The undersides of her soft, jiggling thighs press against you as she climbs to mount. So wonderfully slow the descent down your shaft.

It's with an agonisingly measured motion she takes your cock, inch by inch. She swallows every fraction. An exquisite glide. Feeling the undulating pattern of her depths as they shift and cling. Her lips drawn in a tight, silent circle. Her eyes clench shut as she lets out a long and strained exhale. Her back arches slightly, almost reaching the limits, taking you to the hilt.

"Oh Rei, fuck," she whispers, before opening her eyes and meeting yours. Lustful gazes meet for a long second and she leans forward. She keeps you there, lodged and tight for a moment longer. Holding onto it, and you. "Need a minute," she tells you through her laboured breathing.

The beat of your hearts collide in the tense moments as you wait. She is poised to make the most of the moment. Liz begins so slowly. Tentative. The slightest of rocks, cautious and experimental, to ensure herself and you of her control. With each subtle and calculated motion, the sweet clench of her tight insides squeeze.

Her forehead rests against yours as she looks down, fully in focus with the rise and fall.

"She's so good. Tell her," Rei purrs her words as she leans into her friend. "How nice does she feel?" Rei's kissing at Liz's neck between her words. Nipping at the skin while you can feel every shallow gasp Liz makes. The way she inhales each time with a deeper and harsher breath when Rei nips just so.

You barely manage to find your words, but you tell her. Whispering sweet compliments on how nice her pussy feels around your cock. You don't stop there, appreciating parts of her body as you touch them. Running your hands over her hips has you telling her how wonderful she feels under your fingertips, gripping her ass and holding tight to tell her how perfect she is. Her moans and groans fill your ears with music of lust and desire.

Rei's hands travel the expanse of Liz's body as she keeps nipping at her neck. She takes her nipples between her thumb and finger. Squeezes and twists. "So beautiful. He is so turned on by you." Her words encourage and drive Liz as she rides with greater pace and intensity. As the tempo rises, Rei grows impatient with her own needs. "Liz..." she whispers, "give me your hand."

Keeping one on your knee, Liz surrenders the other to Rei. Rei draws her friend in between her legs, "touch me while you ride, please, Liz."

"I don't know how." Her hips rise and fall, still working herself onto your dick. The words of a girl unsure.

Rei puts Liz's hand on her cunt and presses her fingers to the mound. "Yes, you do, just do it how you like it."

"Here," you say, moving your hand between Rei's legs, you guide Liz's fingers and show her how to stroke her friend, "press your fingers here. Move them in a circle. Small but quick circles."

"Mm, Liz, oh—" Rei moans through her strained attempt at words.

“And I think Rei likes it when—

“Ah! Yes!”

Liz puts so much focus on her friend that she struggles to keep riding, as much as her body craves it. She struggles for a while, riding your cock and rubbing Rei's clit. Soon her focus falters, and her pace decreases, losing rhythm as she struggles between the two.

"More Liz, more," Rei pleads.

You take hold of Liz's hips, your fingers digging deep into the flesh of her ass. You drive up into her and a whine escapes her lips. You take over and she pushes her fingers deeper inside Rei just as she wanted, pulling her closer and burying herself into her cunt. Rei melts into Liz as your cock pounds into her.

Rei puts an arm over your shoulder and holds onto you, clawing into your neck and holding you firm. "Ah. Liz... yes." You can tell it won't take Rei long like this. You've noticed how easy it seems to be to make her cum, so this should be no challenge even for Liz.

Surprisingly, without warning, Liz is the first to crumble. Without ceremony. Just a sudden gasping stammer that rattles in her chest. Every sound she makes is a whining, babbling, and messy blend of lust and carnal release. The two collapse against each other as you fuck Liz through her orgasm.

Rei lets out a frustrated groan as Liz struggles to keep fingering her through her tremors. "My clit. Please," she cries. "Here, Liz, here." Her voice is desperate and urgent, trying to guide Liz's finger back where she needed her. "No, no, don't stop." Rei's voice breaks again, desperate and waning.

Liz is limp, unresponsive, and falling into your arms. Totally consumed. Struggling to fight as her whole body seizes with euphoria. You wrap your hands around her body, shifting positions and sliding out of her, leaving her trembling on the toilet. Her body still wracking and twitching and jerking, whimpering and sobbing in post-orgasm bliss.

Rei is agitated. "Need your cock. Want it. Bad. So bad." She throws herself against your body, hands running all over until one grips your cock, still wet with Liz. Your cock twitches. "Need this cock. Fuck. This is making me so hot."

Never have you seen such hunger and need. Lust so dire and reckless. Rei has an inexhaustible libido—an insatiable appetite for sex. You are barely out of Liz's snatch and yet already Rei's is gushing for you. And who are you to deny such a good pussy another fucking?

You bend Rei over towards the hazy Liz. Rei's arms reach over her shoulders onto the wall and her legs spread apart over Liz's knees. You lean behind, ready to enter. Liz's hands brace her waist.

Rei looks at you over her shoulder with her devilish, sadistic smile. "Take me, stretch my fucking cunt. My pussy needs you." Her vulgar demands sound so good, with erotic venom in her words, and you're in her again.

"Yeah, yes. Finally..." Rei coos, as if you deprived her, waiting so patiently for Liz to finish. She pushes her ass back, swallowing you deeper. You run your hands over her skin; her perfect curves. "Mm... yes, finally! Like the first time."

You pound her with a vigour—merciless and rapid thrusts of your hips that drive her into Liz. For someone so small and seemingly delicate she is full of stamina and power, eager to meet every thrust. Your hips clap against her ass and her tongue falls out. A visage of mindless and unrepentant ecstasy. A cathartic euphoria. As your body collides, Rei is bent lower over the resting Liz.

She leads with her tongue, into Liz's mouth, the two girls sharing sloppy, messy, passionate kiss accompanied by stifled moans and Rei's signature giggle of pleasure.

Rei rises from the kiss to pant a sharp breath, but she quickly descends once more, licking up her neck and then sucking the lobe of her ear. While she's busy feasting on the side of Liz's neck, you lean further forward, both pushing in and down on Rei, but also to get your own fix of the girl beneath.

She's dazed and happy. Arms loosely over Rei, she looks up at you. Smiling. The sparkle still twinkling in her eyes. Blanketing and enshrouded with lust. "Feels good," she says weakly.

"For such a long time I've wondered if Liz tasted as good as her body looks," Rei teases Liz, giggling to herself as she playfully bites her neck.

Liz's cheeks flush an embarrassed shade. She replies through a gasped laugh, "you're always talking, saying stuff, teasing all the time." Liz fights through the nerves to manage to say, "you shouldn't..."

"But have you thought of us actually doing it?" You can feel the wickedness from her, her words are as playful as they are inciting and before Liz can give a reply, Rei is dragging her hand between Liz's legs.

She reacts with a spasm that shoots through her, her muscles tensing as if the faintest of touches sent an electric shock through her. Even the light, innocent touch of Rei's fingers has her rolling and squirming under you both as if she is having her every nerve picked apart. "No. Maybe. Once... Oh, fuck, Rei."

Liz buries into the crook of Rei's neck, as best she can anyway, as Rei still jolts back and forth from the pounding you're giving her. Rei just laughs. "Good answer."

You're still rutting into her from behind, and she is growing shaky, her own ability to support herself failing, struggling to remain upright, pushing down onto Liz. Rei's cumming again. Squeezing tighter around you, fighting harder for every bit of motion between your bodies.

Rei pulls her hand back from Liz to push you out and catch her breath, and she falls fully over Liz, causing her to slouch further in her seat and straddle her.

You pull out from Rei, still without release, and instinctively drop to one knee, pulling Liz's leg up to your waist and moving to slide into her again, even if Rei is kind of in the way.

So Liz lies back flat against the seat of the toilet, a panting Rei mounted over her, and you between her legs—sliding your length into her cunt.

"Why," Rei starts, interrupted by her short gasp. "Did I have to have such hot friends?" You grab Rei's ass and use it as an anchor as you drive into Liz. "I'm so jealous of you getting to fuck us all."

"Shouldn't be," you say between heavy breathing—the effort starting to wear. "This whole thing is a mess. All you girls.”

"You're killing me here," she giggles. "If I had a big, thick cock, I can't think of a better way to use it than that." Rei keeps giggling. Loving this whole thing. She is a ball of boundless energy and as you pound into Liz, she just can't resist touching. She cups Liz's breast in her hand and rolls her nipple between her thumb and finger. "I would love Liz here to cum around my cock."

"You're insane," Liz moans out. Her voice shaking; ruined by the joy you're pumping into her. Her eyes flutter, drifting in and out of bliss.

"I'm insane? You're the one getting pounded by a stranger while your best friend humps your body and plays with your tits." She's absolutely crass with her words and her actions. Durty. Obscene. She continues her verbal assault on a gasping and stunned Liz. "How long have you dreamed about a good, thick cock, fucking you stupid? How many times have you had to finger yourself while watching those amateur porn videos or reading those filthy stories online?"

Liz can barely speak to argue back.

"You girls could always... use a... strap-on." You tell them as your breath gets caught in your chest, you feel it coming. That tingling. A rolling rumble. You're already struggling, feeling the effects of the marathon. But your comment makes them both giggle.

Rei leans down and presses her mouth into Liz's neck. "We could..." Rei is growling now.

Liz is cumming again. Her insides constrict, and her body seizes. The ripples and clenches of her orgasmic vice are too much. You fall over her and press your forehead into Rei's back. Gasping. Panting for air. You're so close it hurts.

So you pull out, reluctantly, freeing your throbbing cock from her hold and standing. A whimpering gasp leaves her lips as her body still shakes.

Rei climbs down from Liz, kneeling in front of you. "A strap-on isn't the same as the real thing." She takes hold of your cock in her delicate touch. So softly, she whispers her words. So gently, they hang in the air with the melodious sound of her voice, sweet like honey and dripping from her lips. "Will you do a dirty girl a favour and paint her pretty face?"

The sight is beyond stunning—an angel on her knees. She rests the tip of your cock against her pursed lips and slowly jerks you. Her glimmering eyes looking up at you in expectant admiration. Her other hand squeezes her breast. She does this all with the utmost confidence that she is going to get exactly what she wants. You nod to her. Yes.

Liz slides from the seat, joining Rei on the floor, on her knees. Rei's hand continue while she shares a smile and a whisper with Liz, words of encouragement that prompt Liz to move in on you. She works her mouth against your balls, planting kisses and stealing licks.

Both girls savour the taste of your cock while they play with it. They continue until their saliva soaks your length. Your shaft glistening and dripping in their lubricant as their tongues dance along your cock.

It doesn't take you much longer until the two girls are cheek-to-cheek and gazing up into your eyes with the soft strokes of their hands. "Cum for us. Cum. Paint our faces, cover us. Cum. Do it." They beg you.

And then, release.

Hot cum pumps from the tip, erupting in thick strands. The first on Rei—a long thick rope onto her forehead, down the bridge of her nose and across her cheek. She remains remarkably poised, relishing the feeling. Then onto Liz, you catch her with a lot too, just like you did Rei and she flinches. Some into her open and ready mouth. Some on her lip and rolling down her chin. She tries to take her mouth to your cock, but Rei leans in the way and wrestles control and instead, another two shots—one splatters across Rei's lips and the next into her mouth.

Rei pulls you into her and sucks, then rolls her tongue around you. Jerking the final drops and draining you empty. When your hips cease to jolt, Rei swallows. Her mouth and face—messy. Glistening. Still smiling as she looks up at you with glee in her eyes.

Liz's slouches back, propped against the toilet. Her hand plays between her legs. Thrusting her fingers with a fast, firm pace. Chasing a climax she can only finish herself. A sight that steals your attention. The glorious scene of Liz masturbating is utterly hypnotic, the music of her moans in harmony, the euphoria consuming and overwhelming and a rarity you savour.

Another drop hangs from Rei's chin. You bring your cock and tilt it—dragging the rope of cum along Rei's lip. Into her mouth. A quiet moan as she cleans you—the feeling of a dull vibration. With a final suck, she frees you and you almost stumble over, collapsing. You catch the counter, barely.

Rei turns back to her friend and pushes in—meeting mouths. Her lips kiss the taste into Liz. Taking it off her lips and drawing it into her mouth. Her tongue snakes around Liz's before the two girls join in an intense and passionate kiss. Your cum traded between the pair—back and forth. Wet and lewd. Sloppy sounds that have you mesmerised.

Liz swallows as best she can before her strained voice breaks the trance. “This is the best. It will never be topped.” Her dainty fingers still playing with her clit as she continues to savour the experience.

"Until next weekend maybe," Rei interjects. "The three of us could make a whole night of it. Though that might ruin all other sex for us forever." Rei rises to stand, glancing herself in the mirror and reaching a finger up, drawing circles over her cheek to collect a fresh trail of your cum, pressing it to the roof of her mouth and rolling it over her tongue.

It's Liz who finds a smile first, her own soft little giggle followed by a splutter and a cough. It gets you all the same, laughing, the absurdity of this whole scenario dawning on you.

"Think you could handle us for a whole night?" Rei asks you as she stands beside you, looking into the mirror as she pulls more trails of cum into her mouth. Liz stays kneeling on the floor, and she suddenly looks so shy again. Sinking into herself, as if the flush of the lust has washed her clean.

You give a quick chuckle, "maybe not... But I would enjoy every second of trying."

"Guess it is time we all get out," Rei suggests. She looks over her shoulder and says, "and, hey Liz. You're welcome."

"Hm?"

"Your card. You fingered me. So you passed the challenge."

Now fully dressed and looking almost like you did when you first walked in, if just a little scruffier, you leave the girls in the bathroom. You doubt anyone who sees you cares, though. The music too loud, the drink too abundant and the dancing too distracting. So no one notices when you re-join the crowds and pass through the hallways looking for someone—anyone.

You still haven't seen Minju since she disappeared at the card stand, nor Wonyoung or Yujin since they walked off into the crowd. As for Gaeul, the one person who is supposed to stop you from doing stupid things, well you haven't seen her yet at all. Maybe that's why you've fucked three girls already today, Gaeul needs to put you under 24/7 watch.

"Finally found you, bro," a voice calls from your left—right on cue.

You spin, and sure enough, it's Gaeul, standing at the corner of the hallway, arms crossed and leaning against the wall with disappointment drawn over her face. She's wearing some of the highest platformed heels you've ever seen, so she almost looks tall. The dress helps too. It's long and sleek from her shoulders down to her knees. Tight to her skin and shimmering under artificial light. An array of gold sparkles and reflective surfaces, bouncing colour everywhere.

"Gaeul, hey."

"You really shouldn't have brought her, you know that?" You had hoped to have spoke to Gaeul before she saw that Minju is here, but that was never going to happen when you're busy fucking her friends. At least she doesn't know about that—yet.

Her question is rhetorical—you know that—but you shrug and answer anyway, "she insisted."

"Oh, really?" Gaeul snaps and then guides you down the hall. Right now, she doesn't sound like the girl you know. She's agitated and annoyed and you're not actually sure if it's at you or someone else. "Sometimes I wonder what goes through your mind. I don't know if it's stubbornness or stupidity bro, but are you trying to get on their bad side?"

"Is it really that bad?"

"I just don't understand you at the minute. I'm trying to help you but I don't know how when I don't know what you want. Is it Wonyoung? Yujin? This Minju person?"

or Rei? Liz, maybe?

"Gaeul. I don't know."

She stops and turns to you, holding onto your arm. "That's the problem, bro. You know I want the best for you, but if you don't know, then neither do I."

"I can't do this now."

"Fine. Enjoy the party, just do me a favour and don't fuck anyone tonight will you?"

Oops.

#rei smut #naoi rei smut #liz smut #kim jiwon smut #ive smut #m reader #male reader #kpop fanfic #kpop smut #folie a deux #smut

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cupcakeinat0r · 1 month

Text

A Nerdy Middle-aged loser Miguel with a dad bod who teaches your genetics class

In celebration of 1k followers, I give you Pt.5 <3

Enjoy! - Cupcake

Since that day you kissed Miguel on the cheek, the dynamic of y’all’s relationship had totally changed, but not drastically. Miguel was back to acting soft towards you, greeting you upon your somewhat late arrivals, getting you little gifts that reminded him of you, and the subtle exchange of glances in class.

Professor O’Hara was a little handsy during your tutoring sessions before, but now he was even more so, your little peck on his cheek was all the encouragement he needed. For sure, his job was on the line since anyone could’ve walked in and seen the two of you like this, but it was worth the risk. Just as long as you both acted this way in his office, the coast was clear.

The head messages had doubled, footsies was played underneath his desk, and he’d even find any excuse to have his hand on yours while you both worked independently, sitting in peaceful silence with each other. You found it hard to complete the research questions when his thumb kept caressing your knuckles, yet, you never protested. His flirt game was rusty, his advances limited to innocent touching and praise, but nonetheless, it was adorable to you the way he tried.

After that day in his office, tutoring sessions became less about tutoring and more just about being in each other’s company. Instead of spending an hour practicing formulas, you both would mingle while organizing the lecture hall or filing research papers. Anything to help Prof. O’Hara, or rather Miguel, since y’all are officially on a first-name basis.

A new development was when you started staying after to help him grade papers. The two of you would use this time to talk one-on-one more, no one there to interrupt. Miguel was just as handsy during this time, too. As mentioned before, he’d find any excuse to touch you, and in the most innocent ways. For example, if he saw a strand of your hair falling on your face while you were grading a paper, he’d simply tuck it behind your ear for you, or when the necklace he got you was crooked or facing the wrong side, he’d gently fix it for you while you spoke to him about one of your current interests, following along with low hums and ‘mhm’s. It’d make you blush and stutter mid-sentence, inflating his otherwise small ego.

Miguel wasn’t a very vocal person, you knew that, but you can see by his actions that he really really liked you. You continued to show your appreciation by leaving treats on his desk, keeping note that his favorite was black coffee and a quesito from the bakery he showed you on campus. A pastry not too sweet, and goes perfectly with a cup of cafécito.

But you were just too sweet and Miguel completely fell for it. He saw how eager you were to help other people in the class, and seeing how willing you were to stay with him to help him with anything you could. He admired that. It also confused him for so long because how has no one swept you off your feet? You were literally perfect? Certainly, people have tried, there’s no way he would believe that no one has. It’s apparent now that the both of you share feelings that are beyond platonic, it’s just a matter of time before someone makes the next move. Given the circumstances, for now, Miguel is taking things microscopically slow with you. He doesn’t wanna scare you off. The last thing he wants is to ruin his chance with you.

His feelings for you were growing, which slightly terrified him given that you are still, in fact, his student, no matter how grown you were. He couldn’t help it. His dreams about you were turning less lustful and more wholesome. When he sleeps, he would see himself coming home to you, cooking with you, reading books next to each other, or even cleaning with you. Just mundane day-to-day tasks, only they’re with you. Maybe for now, they’ll just stay in his dreams. Maybe.

The lecture had just finished and you sent your new best friend, the transfer, away with a European farewell, kissing both of his cheeks. Without you knowing, Miguel watches on with an unamused smirk, remembering how he mistook your relationship with the transfer as a romantic one.

Before leaving the lecture hall, you strut towards Miguel to give him your now-routinely kiss goodbye (on the cheek, of course…). As you walk, you see that he’s crouched over his computer, tired eyes glossing over the screen. The fatigue of finals season is beginning to show on him, and it was a pitiful sight that made you purse your lips. Although it made you sad, you couldn’t help but let a small puff of air out your nose with how his glasses sat low on his nose. He never bothered to fix them, so you were the one who’d fix them oftentimes, and every time, he’d give you a small, “gracias, mama.”

You set down your bag, the thud of it hitting the floor finally stealing Miguel’s attention away from the blue-lit screen. He looks you up and down over his lenses, the small, fine lines of his face showing his age and you loved ittt.

“Sweetheart, as much as I love it when you stay and help, I’d be happier knowing you’re at home getting the rest you deserve.” He softly speaks, this version of himself that is so different from the one he presents in front of his class and colleagues.

“You worry too much, Miguel.” You plant yourself next to his chair, leaning down to get a better look at what on the computer has him so worked up. “Jesus, Miguel, no wonder you look sick.” You scroll through what seems like an endless list of students who signed up for office hours. With the amount that registered, Miguel would have to work even outside of his office hours.

From Miguel’s seated position, he has first-class access to your sweet perfume and a million-dollar view of your neck and chest, his mind wandering for a moment.

“Are you listening to me? This is ridiculous, there’s no way you’re cramming this amount of students… is there not another professor who could tutor as well?” the small raise of your voice is enough to bring his attention upward, not that that was any better of a view. Now, he was just looking at your lips, and how your lip plump makes them looks deliciously kissable. He imagined how’d they’d look if they were-

“Miguel O’Hara!” He blinks once or twice, gaining consciousness again, “Excuse me, uh, yeah, no, I’m the only one who can. For this class, I mean.” He rubs one of his eyes, letting out a sigh as he looks at the heavily packed schedule displayed on his desktop. “Anyways, it’s my responsibility. This was in the job description, so I gotta do what I gotta do.”

You roll your eyes in annoyance, hands on your hips, “Okay, but that doesn’t mean compromising your own health. There are healthy and efficient ways of doing your job, Mig.”

There’s that nickname he loved. He melted every time you used it, the familiarity of y’all’s relationship shining through the most when you did. He especially loved it when you were upset. He thought it was cute.

“Let me tutor some.” This snaps Miguel back to Earth, but this time, he’s in disbelief. “You’d tutor other students?” This was a rhetorical question, of course, he knew you were serious. He knew how big your heart was. He guessed he was just in disbelief because, once again, he was beguiled by the existence of a literal angel sent to Earth. He can’t believe he’s been blessed by your presence and friendship (?). You were so kind, so intelligent, so put-together, extremely gorgeous… you were utterly perfect.

“If splitting the work meant you got some sort of rest around here, then of course I would! Mig…” You grab the nearest chair and pull it to sit next to him, placing a hand on top of his. His hand relaxes under your touch, “You’ll work yourself to death like this.” You send a warmth onto his hand and up his arm you rub circles on his knuckles, the same way he does it to you.

“You’ve done so much for me, Miguel. Let me repay you, please? Please let me do this?” You bat your eyes, Miguel’s kryptonite.

Miguel turns his hand to intertwine his fingers with yours, seeing the genuinity in your eyes. He gives it a small squeeze before saying, “What did I do to deserve you, hm?” it comes out just above a whisper.

“Plenty, Miguel. You’re the hardest working man I’ve ever met,” you cock your head to the side, your eyes tracing the muscles of his broad shoulders, counting in your head all the possible knots buried deep in there,” Here, sit back, please.” You say sweetly, standing back up to travel to the back of his seat.

“What’re you up to?” His eyebrows raised, but he eased again when he felt your small hands massaging the crooks of his neck. “Sshhhh, just relax, Mig. It’s ok.”

He furrows his brows feeling the scrumptious pain of knots unfurling and tension melting away. You know you hit a good spot when he accidentally lets out small groans. You’re doing so good that it takes every thing in him to hold back any embarrassing moaning.

You can see his literal jaw unclench, happy to see him so relaxed. “Feel good?” You whisper in a sugary tone, Miguel nodding with his lips parted. With his eyes closed, you were able to closely examine all the features that make up his beautiful face. He was simply gorgeous.

“S’good mama… s’good…” he speaks under his breath as you knead out the stubborn knots on his neck. Once you feel like you’ve ridden all the points of tension there, you slowly work your toward his clavicle. He lets you unbutton the first three buttons of his polo sweater. With your whole hands, you apply pressure there, offering weighted comfort to the area.

Then you rub up and down slowly, the sensation of his chest hair tempting you to venture deeper down his thick torso. Due to the immense relaxation, Miguel’s head begins to fall back onto your stomach, so you step closer to give him extra support.

He hums when he feels both of your hands cup his face. You then remove his glasses so you can work on his temples. His eyes are still closed, but you can see his lips slightly curl, which makes you smile. You wonder what he’s thinking about,

Miguel is currently thinking about where he should get down on one knee for you. He’s thinking about what color you’d possibly want the cabinets to be in your shared home. He’s thinking about if y’all’s child will be as nerdy as him or as fashionable as you. Either way, he’d be the happiest man in the world. This train of thought is stopped by the sensation of your lips on his forehead. His heart stops as well.

Then he feels the soft smack of your lips on his left cheek, then his right, leaving behind a trail of lip gloss prints. Anticipating a potential fourth kiss somewhere specific, he slowly opens his eyes, your face inches from his. His head leans all the way back, resting against your stomach still.

It’s silent between the two of you. You both lock eyes, completely drowning in the other's gaze. No words were exchanged, but there didn’t need to be.

Seeing no other action fit for this perfect moment, Miguel raises his hand above him to cup your face, caressing your cheek with his thumb. You inch down closer, your heart racing. His is, too.

When your lips cannot move anymore without touching, in what would be considered “Spider-Man” style ;) , you both share a kiss, so sweet and innocent. The perfect first kiss. You’re the first to pull away, but not wanting to pull away just yet, Miguel pulls you back into his lips by adding his other hand to your head, extending the kiss just a bit longer. You weren’t complaining, you’d stay here forever if you could.

Feeling your knees getting weak, you shift all your weight onto Miguel, your hands traveling from the sides of his face back to his pecs underneath his sweater. This also deepens your kiss, so to deepen it even more, Miguel's hands wrap around the back of your neck. You both come up for air for just a mere second, Miguel breathlessly letting out a weak, “Please?”

knowing what he meant, slowly going back down again but this time, open-mouthed. Miguel groans into your mouth with the feeling of his tongue on yours, practically treating it like his lollipop. The kiss becomes hungrier with a nibble on your lip by Miguel, pulling on it while you get some needed air. It’s getting sloppy now, and your hands travel lower, meeting the softness of his belly. His breath hitches when he feels them there, half-expecting you to be revolted in any way, but your hands just sit there. In fact, you start messaging there as well, giving love to his whole body. Your hands drag up and down his whole torso with each wet collision of your lips. Your hands would go as low as the pudge sitting above his belt, all the way to up his knife-like jawline, and back down again, and repeat. It’s like you wanted him to know you worshipped his body, and Miguel wanted to show some in return.

Using his hands on the back of your head, he tapped you to pull away so that he could take your hand and guide you around his chair, pulling you to straddle his lap. “C’mere…”

Tongues are going down throats, moans are being heard, and hands are becoming desperate. The fingers tugging his hair, his hands squeezing the globes of your ass, him desperately lifting his hips to make some friction. It was like horny college kids fucking for the first time…. or at least maybe one of y’all felt that way. The other was just that. A horny college student.

There was no stopping either of you, except maybe for the knocking at the lecture hall door.

Both your heads snapped toward the thankfully semi-transparent, iced door. You scramble to get off Miguel’s lap, Miguel wiping your lip gloss off his face. You go to button his sweater and fix his hair as he calls out, “Just a moment.” You give him his glasses when you hear the voice of the student speaking about a tutoring session with Miguel through the door.

Miguel thinks he’ll go to the door, but he feels you grab his hand. “Hey,” you pull him in for one last peck, “I’ll take this one, mkay?” You smile up at him, a very dazed Miguel looking back at you. As far as he’s concerned, he’s floating right now.

“Anyways, it seems like someone,” you look down, motioning to the prominent bulge in his pants, “needs a moment to calm down.” You chuckle, practically gliding to the door as Miguel looks down at his excitement, wide-eyed and making his own way into his private office to… read about DNA Polymerase Replacement or something.

Want more Dadbod!Miguel? Here's my mastlist, bae!

A/n: I just wanted to thank you guys for 1k followers as well as all the appreciation on this lil story of mine<3 y’all so sweet n cewt, and it’s so much fun writing this fic n just writing in general! Ty for letting my creative juices fuel ur delulu <3 I also hope that this hot, wet, fat kiss made up for all the edging I’ve done, if not, sorry <3 Next chapter tho………….. but chu gotta stay tuned, yall hear meeeeee????

<3 Tags <3

@safixiovi @mukeovernetflix @mochikisses @miguels-cock-piercings @miranexx @bunnibitez @deepdiveintothedeephive @faretheeoscar @sillygardeneggperson @librababe99 @sariespi @little-lovelace @monstersimp @oharasfilipinawife @obi-mom-kenobi @hyjionie @maomaimao @pomakori @rxckstarss @mochimoqa @princesatracionera @queerponcho @walmaerts @froggygal @yaysposts @koko-1025 @kikaaauu @lauraolar14 @anotherprettyprincess @kaidxra @farrowroyale @pigeonmama @exactlyyoungchaos @fayeofthenightingale @s4dow @hartsucks @amberbalcom14 @wait2nourh @tatooieve @helen-j-magnus @ce3stvu @mintssanctuary @migueloharasoulmate @veyveys @theanbitchless @nebulositycloud @jh7ley @gothicteddybearhugs

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yonch · 3 months

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it's been 15 years and you can see better than ever

(design notes under the cut) (there are spoilers)

ok this got really long. here you go

sif:

ditched the cloak. it was collecting dust in their closet until recently, but they realized they don't need to cling to their grief so much anymore. someone else will need it more soon.

ditched the eyepatch. the prosthetic eye is a labor of love designed by isa, as is literally everything else they're wearing.

they cut their bangs finally and started braiding their hair back so it wouldn't obscure their vision as much anymore.

they like darker/tighter clothing and prefer function over form but unfortunately their gay ass boyfriend keeps treating them like a dress up doll so they're stuck wearing waistcoats and a fancy cloak. (they don't mind. it's designed to look like loop.) they keep flowers in their many pockets to give to people.

they're a woodworker in their free time. they don't usually talk about being any sort of savior so he just becomes sif the guy who's really good at carving birthday presents for people and also tags along with isa to charity parties and fundraisers

41 year old 5'1" they/he absolutely zero intention of Changing. bonded to isabeau. they adopted a kid who leo or i might post about some other time i think. her name is estelle.

isa: i'm not taking credit for the design that's by my friend @fembard /@leoweooo. i'll include his design notes

isa dresses mostly for comfort, he doesn't like wearing stuff that might get stained or ruined when he's dyeing clothes or chasing stelle around in the mud or something, all his fashion sense goes into his handiwork

he Changed a few more times over the 15yrs, eventually settled. picked up she/her pronouns again on the side but was never really able to ditch the name isabeau and he kinda ran out of names anyways...

kept the long hair, kept a few inches in height, very happy to fulfill the role of male (space) wife

can't ditch the kimono jacket it's the piece de resistance. odile influence and Wisening Of Age means its made with a little more knowledge of ka buan technique but still very clearly an Isa Design. the fabric is imported silk sif!!!!!!

39 year old Tall with a capital T he/she "i swear i'm not a weeaboo i'm just really into ka buan fashion" vaugardian indie clothing designer in your area help support this man in his attempts to use his family members as living advertisements for his brand

mira: with design input from @jastertown thank you my friend

i took a lot of inspiration for the sparkly, sheer fabric on her dress from euphrasie. she's not head housemaiden yet because she doesn't feel like she's ready but everybody knows it'll be her

speaking of inspiration. she's been taking a lot of fashion cues from a certain lady in dormont that she thought was kind of scary, but it turns out she's very nice? they're besties now.

she got rid of the earrings for a little bit but then she realized she just liked how they look on her. so now they go ding ding! it's for her and nobody else, and that's how she likes it.

moved her ornaments to her skirt because they ding ding more often there. her necklace also jingles with merriment.

38 year old she/her advanced cisgender+ legend who's realizing that people are trying to get her to be the pope but all she really wants to do is write yaoibait fiction that looks like it came straight off of ao3

odile:

my glorious hag. she started shrinking about 3 years ago. all those years of bending over books has finally caught up to her. her hips are fuuuuuucked. but she has a sick cane that sif carved for her so everything's okay

she was already pretty comfortable and settled in her sense of style when she was nearing 50 so i don't think she would change much. darker clothing maybe. ditched the high-waisted pants for some looser slacks.

she's started writing a familytale of her own. the only person she's told about it is bonbon, who caught her up way past their bedtime, and scribbled all over one of the pages. she'll pass it on to sif when the time's right, after she's written down everything she can remember about their family.

64 year old she/her wasian researcher recovering from hernia surgery who's getting really into things like "political activism" and "body craft law reformation in ka bue" and "making sure people aren't sourcing their hrt from back alleys"

bonnie:

prefers to go by boniface these days. it's cooler. more mature. please stop calling me bonbon that's a nickname from when i was 10 guys c'mon guys ugh fine frin you can still call me bonbon but not around my girlfriends ok (nobody calls them boniface except for odile)

speaking of which they have 3 butch lesbian girlfriends. this got established as a joke but i think they have it in them. they're still young!!!!!!! they should be at the club!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

they traveled for a while with everybody but eventually settled down back in bambouche to start a little family owned restaurant with nille featuring dishes from all over the globe. people travel from all over to get a taste of boniface's good eats... bambouche is bustling. (they have a few recipes that are sourced from the country. they meet people every once in a while who find something achingly familiar about it, and they usually direct those people to jouvente to get in contact with frin.)

26 year old they/them "i dont know how tall i am but i'm taller than za" chef cooker whose restaurant keeps lighting on fire because this time i swear nille i can figure out how to do cooking craft i swear i wont explode the kitchen this time please i promise

loop:

ok. this is where lozy gets to just talk about what he thinks happens post game. i think they stick around for way longer than they really should and follow the crew around on their travels (mostly invisibly) because they're sooo fucking scared of change they're sooo scared and they're so scared of their wish fucking up beyond belief. they're kind of incapable of aging or dying in this body and theyre like permanently 26 which is what spurs them to finally move on.

i think they go back to their timeline eventually after making a Brand New Wish to "go back to their real family." alas the universe leads and we can only follow. and it turns out loop has actually made a real family in stardust's world also. this is my justification for why they can pop in between sasasap and isat worlds without much repercussion. i think they're always permanently loop shaped in isat but i imagine they can probably go back to their original body in their home timeline... might design that later. who knows. i'm fucked like that

i just think they deserve a chance for their own happy ending you know. isat's a game about how it's never too late to communicate and how you shouldn't punish yourself forever and ever. and i think theyve punished themself enough you know.

ok tank you for reading if you read this far. it's really big and long so i would understand if you didn't. but i hope you liked it. thoughts appreciated. here's a little something for the people who read all the way through.

#isat #in stars and time #siffrin #siffrin isat #isafrin #isat game #postgame isat #loop #isabeau #mirabelle #odile #bonnie #boniface #spoilers are only under the read more #my drawings #etoile tag

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femmefatalevibe · 9 months

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Femme Fatale Guide: How To Master An "Effortlessly Elegant" & Put-Together Look

Table of Contents:

Treat your skin like royalty

Take ample care of your natural hair

Dress in crisp neutral outfits that cater to your body shape

Choose your accessories wisely

Embrace feature-enhancing makeup

Keep your nails clean, filed, and simple

Regarding your signature scent(s)

Follow your dental & bodily hygiene routines religiously

Treat your skin like royalty:

Use high-quality skincare twice a day

Wear sunscreen every day

Remove your makeup every night before bed no matter what

Use makeup that doesn't clog your pores/irritate your skin

Change your pillowcases weekly

Eat plenty of produce & drink lots of water

Prioritize sleep

Limit or eliminate alcohol, cigarettes, caffeine, and processed foods/sugary drinks

Keep your skin exfoliated/derma-planed

Take ample care of your natural hair:

Use high-quality shampoo/conditioner combos that suit your hair type & don't cause build-up

Hydrate with a scalp mask 1-4 times a month

Use cold or lukewarm water to wash your hair

Apply shampoo to the roots/hair covering your scalp and conditioner only on the "ponytail" section of your hair

Use a specialty hair towel after getting out of the shower

Always comb wet hair and brush 1-3 times a day when dry

Limit heat on your hair when possible & always use a heat protectant every time you do

Use non-elastic or silk hair ties

Get regular trims at least 3-4 times per year (get your hair layered if it's very thick)

Try to limit how much you dye or, especially bleach, your hair and do elaborate styles with tons of heat & harsh products

Dress in crisp neutral outfits that cater to your body shape:

Embrace minimalist basics (tees, tanks, blouses, sweaters, jeans, trousers, blazers, leather jackets, coats, etc.) in high-quality fabrics (Pima cotton, Merino wool, Tencel, mulberry silk, etc.)

Choose options in black, white, grey, charcoal beige, navy, burgundy, or cream depending on your skin tone and preferences

Invest in a collection of sleek footwear options (black boots, loafers, black pumps, white sneakers, etc.) in minimalist, timeless styles that suit the color palette, hemlines & proportions of your go-to outfits

Ensure your shoes and accessories feel proportional to the weight/silhouette of your outfit, color-coordinate with the rest of your look, and have streamlined hardware from head-to-toe (all silver, all gold, or one piece that mixes silver/gold and another gold & silver piece each to balance out the color palette)

Keep all of your clothes steam and lint-rolled, so they look crisp & fresh all-day

Befriend your tailor to take in or let out clothes as needed when purchased off the rack

Choose clothes/styles that flatter your body shape and proportions

Utilize belts and bra tape to adjust the waist, keep shirts tucked in, and keep straps from falling down or create an impromptu cuff/hem on your pants

When in doubt, select a neutral head-to-toe monochrome outfit

If on a budget, consider choosing black, grey, camel beige items to hide fabric imperfections that could cheapen your look

Choose your accessories wisely:

Select sleek, simple neutral (& almost exclusively) monochrome shoes made with smooth (recycled/vegan) leather with

Pair almost any outfit with a shoe featuring a slight platform, block heel, kitten heel, and/or a sharply pointed toe to elongate your silhouette

Complement your outfit with structured, pared-back handbags with no logos (Focus on quality and construction, not the brand name) in a neutral shade and timeless silhouette

For jewelry, choose at most one statement piece and all others should be focused on different areas of the body (e.g. don't mix statement earrings with layered/bold necklaces or stacked rings * bracelets). When in doubt, choose simple diamond chains or earrings, sleek bangles or chainlink necklaces & bracelets, simple pendant necklaces, and minimalist rings in hardware that all go together

Embrace feature-enhancing makeup:

Cover up any dark circles, blemishes, or hyperpigmentation with a color-matched concealer

Lightly contour with a bronzer that complements your skin tone

Fill in your brows for a naturally full look (or get them professionally tinted)

Apply a light wash of rose, coral, or mauve blush

Use black mascara with a little bit of eyeliner and/or a subtle wash of brown eyeshadow on the lids

Apply a "your lips but better" nude shade or "just kissed' berry lipstick or pigmented lip balm for a subtle wash of color

Keep your nails clean, filed, and simple:

Maintain cut, cleaned, and filed short nails

Opt for a square or almond nail shape

Choose a timeless nail shade (pink, nude, red, beige, dark cherry, navy, dark purple, black) with no nail art

Hydrate your hands and scrub under your nails daily

Regarding your signature scent(s):

Ensure your body wash/lotion and perfume scents don't clash

Test perfumes for a trial day to ensure they smell divine with your unique pheromones

Choose a fragrance appropriate for the seasonal/occasion

Apply a dab on each wrist and on your neck/behind the ears. If the scent doesn't project well on you, try applying these small dabs on the cuffs and shoulders of your jacket/walk into it to get it on your hair (if it would stain your clothes)

Don't layer more than one heady perfume at a time or scents that don't have complementary and/or shared notes

Follow your dental & bodily hygiene routines religiously:

Floss every day (after each meal if possible)

Brush your teeth with an electric toothbrush twice a day

Have mints on hand if you're a garlic, spice, or coffee lover

Keep your lips & hands well-moisturized and protected with SPF

Shower your body daily and be extra diligent in scrubbing your privates, everything behind, and under your arms

Don't use very hot water in the shower (it burns/dries out your skin)

Exfoliate 2-3 times a week with a sugar scrub

Moisturize daily or anytime you get out of the shower

Apply SPF on any exposed sun (especially in the summer or when the UV index is high in your area)

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my-heart-beat-for-anime · 2 months

Text

Feyd-rautha x Atreides reader headcanons pt.1

Pt.1, Pt.2, Pt.3

- you first met when you were both children

- your father carefully observed the young Harkonnen who approached his little girl

- to everyone's surprise, you hugged him tightly and presented him with a dagger scabbard that you had sewn yourself under your mother's guidance

- little Feyd looked uncertainly at his uncle, who pushed him closer to the girl with his meaty hand

- with a small blush he thrust into her hand a necklace with a black stone that had been roughly worked by the boy's hand

- the girl lit up and started showing the gift to her twin with enthusiasm

- after welcoming ceremony the atreides twins and Feyd set out to explore the beaches of Caladana in search of seashells

- in the heat of the game the little princess cut her knee on a pointed stone in the sand

- little Paul immediately ran back to the family mansion to tell his parents what happened and Feyd slowly carried you back on his back, all the while saying that you shouldn't cry like a little baby over a small scratch

- when House Harkonnen was leaving you waved sadly to the little boy you had grown so fond of and who had promised to come back for you

-the second time you saw each other was three days before your wedding, which took place on Geidi Prime

- when your family landed on the planet you were greeted by the sight of a man you didn't recognize, the only clue that it was Feyd was the scabbard you which you made for him and which he now has to strap on his hip

- Even Feyd-Rautha didn't recognize his bride instead of a smiling little girl he saw a confident woman who looked strikingly like the mermaids you told him about and again what gave you away was the necklace, he made for you, around your neck

- ahh how he wished instead of the necklace it was his hand holding onto your neck during the waves of pleasure he was going to cause you when you were his

- his gaze fixed on the man who was standing behind you, he didn't like how he whispered something in your ear, you giggled, he didn't like how close he was standing behind you

- as you walked up to him he gently kissed your hand but as soon as you were about to pull your hand back Feyd gripped it tightly and slowly licked your wrist while maintaining eye contact with you

- chtěl dát najevo, že jsi jeho od chvíle, kdy jsi nasadil ten náhrdelník

Pt.2???

#dune #dune part two #dune 2 #dunefanfic #feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha imagine #feyd rautha fanfic #feyd rautha x you #austin butler #austin butler imagine #austin butler x reader #austin butler x you #austin butler x y/n

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luveline · 2 years

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𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

part one | part two | part three | part four

summary you’re a single mom living three trailers down. eddie thinks you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen. queue the movies, nachos, cherry cough syrup, and a couple of moments of clarity. [10k]

warnings teen mom!reader, fem!reader, r is junie’s birth mother, fluff, hurt/comfort, eddie being a total girl dad (<3), mutual pining, yearning etc, tw for not having much money, general mom struggles :(, slowburn friends to lovers, idiots in love!!! tw sick fic

𓆩❤︎𓆪

Eddie has the most peculiar curl tucked up by his neck. Where most are frizzy and loose, this one falls in a perfect shiny ringlet below his ear. He shifts and it's out of view, a curtain of dark hair falling forward and hiding his face as he puts your car in park.

"Remind me why you had to drive?" you ask, ducking down to look at the glaring white lights of the movie theatre across the street.

"You were gonna fall asleep behind the wheel."

For once, Eddie might not be exaggerating. He grins at your lack of rebuttal and throws an arm behind your shoulders, twisting in the driver's seat to set his sights on Junie.

"Are you ready?" he asks her.

She wiggles. It's an ecstatic movement. Her clothes are prim and sweet if you do say so yourself, a long sleeved shirt under a pair of the world's cutest dungarees. They crinkle as she moves, pressed to perfection.

You and Eddie open opposite doors in tandem and step out into the brisk, early night. The sidewalk shines with rain, a black slickness stretching in every direction. You shiver and pull your thin jacket tighter to your torso as you turn back to the car, intending to retrieve Junie and rush into the theatre before you can freeze on the spot.

Eddie's already swung open the door and rescued your daughter from the confines of her car seat, neatening up the hem of one of her socks with her face pushed over his shoulder.

She giggles about something and Eddie says, "Sorry, June. 'M tickling you, am I?" so fondly you have to avert your eyes.

He locks the car and hands over your keys with a smile. You smile back, heart flipping like a spinning coin. Head over tails, over and over.

The big, ring-heavy hand he holds to Junie's back reaches for you suddenly enough that you flinch.

"I'm sorry," he apologises, suppressing a laugh, "your necklace is twisted."

He moves in a second time and you raise your chin, chest aflame as his fingers glance off of your bare skin. He slips the chain over his index and pulls, encouraging the links around until the clasp is hidden again.

"Thank you." You huff an awkward, sheepish laugh.

"You owe me," he says, mock-severe.

Your laugh is much more genuine as you follow him across the road.

You're squinting as you approach The Hawk movie theatre. The title cards are hard to look at, aggressively white with black capital letters that read, 'The Great Mouse Detective 7'.

There's a small line of families waiting by the front. You realise it like a shock, that the three of you must look like a family too.

Eddie carries Junie with the surety of a dad that's carried his child a hundred times before; he strokes the back of her head with the affection of one, soothing the mess of flyaways she'd acquired by squirming in her car seat. Junie responds with familiarity, hands tucked into his hair and tugging. She's trying to be nice but his hair won't allow it, all his long curls tangled at the ends from a day at work.

Still, he says, "Thanks, baby. Make sure you get the back, okay?"

"Okay," she echoes.

You look down at your wringing hands. There's ink smudged up the side of your writing hand. You scratch at it half-heartedly, blinking against your fatigue.

You're exhausted tonight and it's only Wednesday. You can't imagine how you'll fare tomorrow considering how little sleep you're expecting tonight — there are a thousand things to do when you get home. Laundry to wash and press, cleaning to do, dinner to make.

You'd been writing cheques for due bills when Eddie had come knocking, well-dressed, stupid-handsome, and announced that tonight you would be accompanying him to the movies. He'd actually said 'accompanying'.

Despite a full agenda, you'd said yes. You're not very good at saying no. At least, not to him.

It takes you a moment to realise you're at the front of the line. You pay for the tickets before Eddie can try it, and with his hands full he can't really stop you. He whines about it all the way to the concession stand.

"You can buy the snacks," you say. His face lights up, and you amend, "If you're reasonable."

"I'm always reasonable…ly over the top," he says, chided by your hard stare.

"Yes, you are."

He follows you down the two steps to the concession and cuts in front of you. "How did you do that? What face was that? I felt my soul leave my body."

"That's my disapproving mom look. I'm disapproving."

"Ah." He pats Junie's side sympathetically.

She pulls her head from over his shoulder and smiles at you. Her arms vy for your hold. You steal her from Eddie and kiss her all over her tiny face, uplifted by how much she loves you, how happy she is to be in your arms.

"What snacks do you want? Do you eat popcorn with butter? Without?" Eddie asks, his newly emptied arms already posed thoughtfully, a hand under his chin as he thinks over his options.

The theatre has a huge array of jellies, an even bigger array of candy bars. There are more brands of soda than there are glasses in your kitchen cabinet.

You're daunted.

"Whatever you want," you say.

Eddie groans and tips his head back. "Don't play with me like this. Butter or no butter? It's an easy question."

"I don't know. Without?"

"You are so weird," he says happily.

You pout and pull Junie closer.

Standing at the side while he gathers concessions, too many things, you watch in awe as Eddie stacks it all against his chest with the sure confidence of someone who's done it before.

He grins at you from between two huge cups. "Are we ready?"

If you could, you'd leave him here in the foyer with his jumbo deluxe popcorn. As it stands, you like him too much to leave him behind. You juggle Junie and your bag to push open the doors for him outside of screen two.

"Thanks, babe," he says outside of screen two. You bite your lip, surprised by his easy tone.

You climb up the stairs and into your seats. You're high enough for Junie to sit in her own chair between you and Eddie and see the screen comfortably but she adamantly refuses, stretching out in your lap like an alley cat hungry for affection.

Eddie moves into the ragtag velvet seat beside you, a million things in his lap and at your feet. He's pretty enough under the theatre lights to dull the panging ache at the back of your head. "If she won't sit here, I will. I got you a lemonade, is that cool?"

If it weren't you'd hardly tell him.

"She's being extremely well-behaved," Eddie notes, an inkling of pride in his tone.

You could sucker punch him. Why does he do this to you?

"I know," you say with a shy smile, "it's suspicious, isn't it?"

"I don't know. If I were in your lap I might be well-behaved too." He raises his eyebrows, an over-exaggerated show of flirtatiousness.

You reach over the arm to take a handful of popcorn. Eyes on Junie, you offer her your stolen goods and say, "I've got two thighs."

"Don't tempt me."

Junie all but snatches the popcorn and tilts her head back. A kernel falls from her hand and disappears between the seats. You make a mental note to pick it up afterward, ears full of her chomping.

You'd worried she might be a little loud for the movies but there's a bunch of kids and none seem keen on keeping quiet, a cacophony of childish complaints to hide your conversation.

"Are babies supposed to eat popcorn?"

You freeze up. "Oh- I don't know," you say, turning Junie toward you so you can watch her swallow.

"I thought I read that somewhere, but-"

"No, I think you're right. Um…" Junie looks at you with obvious confusion. "Was that yummy?" you ask. You hide your concern with a strained bubbly attentiveness.

"I guess she's old enough."

Eddie's being very casual – it is casual. He's just thinking out loud. You know he's not criticising you. He never has, though sometimes you think he should.

It must show on your face anyhow that you're having a 'I'm a bad mom' crisis. A mean stroke of insecurity.

"Sweetheart," Eddie says suddenly, brows pinched, "it's alright. It was just a thought. And she had no problem eating it, I'm sure she's gonna be aces. Better than aces."

Junie climbs out of your lap and into his. He sets the popcorn on the floor to take her, and when her hands reach for his drink he holds the straw to her mouth. All the while his eyes move between her and you.

"Okay," you say, because you're being silly.

Junie is fine. Eddie was only saying something that's very well true. Babies aren't supposed to have popcorn, but June's not a baby, really. She knows how to chew properly. It's unlikely she'll choke.

Eddie has to keep his focus on her to avoid getting soaked – she barely knows how to use a straw and keeps trying to turn the cup upside down.

"Not like that, trouble. Right way up. You got it."

You pick at the loose stitching at the end of your shirt and have to change the subject before the embarrassment of it all swallows you. Such a small thing.

"Can I try one of these?" you ask, grabbing the first bag of candy you can find. They're a bag of Super Sour Suckers.

He looks at you over Junie's head, startled and hiding it poorly. Then, a smile so bright it increases the embarrassment you're feeling tenfold.

"You have to! Robin said they're even worse than the normal ones, I don't wanna go through that alone," he says urgently.

Robin is one of his friends. You're not jealous that he has friends (though you are, because you want your own, but not jealous that he has friends that aren't you). He's mentioned her in passing before. When you'd asked as bravely as you dared if they were anything more than friends he'd laughed maniacally.

"We're definitely just friends," he'd said.

You fight to stay smiling and pull open the bag of candies. Ironically, the jellies inside are shaped like pacifiers. Covered in sugar packed densely and looking almost wet with what you suspect to be citric acid, you shake the packet wearily and search for a candy that won't ruin your tongue.

Eddie holds out his hand. You drop a green one into his palm. Your fingertips ride up the curve of his thumb.

He's unflinching as he eats it. After a few seconds his eyes screw up and he clutches June tight to his chest, raising an unhelpful hand to his jaw.

"Holy sugar," he says, wincing.

You bite into a pink pacifier unfortunately layered in sugar and wait nervously for the sourness to kick in. Sure enough, it comes quick and torturous. It's a knife cutting through fog.

It's hard to feel tired when there's something this sour in your mouth.

"You can't spit it out!" Eddie says.

You stop with your hand halfway to your mouth. "What?" you ask incredulously, trying not to dribble.

"You gotta eat it! Chew and swallow!"

You chew miserably. He laughs at your expression – a warm and hyper sound, practically giggling. Junie joins in as she always does. His joy can't be overstated.

The lights go down while you're still fighting for your life. Your eyes water and you have to smother the taste with a quick drink and a gasping breath.

"You're sick. I can't believe you let me eat that," you whisper.

"You saw me eat mine! You knew what you were getting into… Think June wants one?"

Your outrage has him laughing again. It's a magnetic sound. Every time he does it you want to touch him, his arm one pole and your hand another.

Junie gets comfortable on his right leg, head tipped expectantly against his chest and eyes drawn to the screen as the trailers begin. You don't bother with jealousy; in ten minutes she'll be climbing over the arm to sit with you again, or want to sit in her own seat. She may even try to walk around. Toddlers are indecisive and easily distracted.

Even if she weren't. Even if she sat there in his lap for the next hour and a half and didn't look your way, you're not sure you could harbour any envy against him. His hand spreads over the front of her torso with fingers splayed against her ribs, stroking thoughtlessly through the fabric of her thick clothes.

He tips his head toward your chair. "There's nachos."

"I saw."

"Wanna eat some before they get cold?"

"Subtle."

He snorts. "Yep. That's what they call me. Eddie Subtle Munson."

You reach over the dark floor for the tray of nachos and balance them carefully on the armrest between your two seats. Eddie digs in without fuss, you fret over which ones have jalapeños on them, and Junie gets mad that nobody's sharing with her. She puts her hands straight in a mound of orange cheese. Her face is a picture when she brings it to her mouth. She's discovered molten gold.

"Junie," Eddie says lightly, carding hair away from her ear so she can hear him properly. "Don't get cheese on your pretty clothes. It took your mom a week to get the rocky road out of your strawberry jammies, you know?"

He doesn't care that she's mauled the food. He's worried she might stain her dungarees. Your heart goes crazy, another sudden surge of clarity.

Junie climbs back into your own lap as the movie begins. You whisper to her about proper theatre etiquette in your mommy voice and she doesn't do too bad a job at listening. She finds the appearance of the Great Mouse Detective himself quite funny, and laughs at his grave features and expressions every now and then. It's a golden sound.

Try as you might, you can't keep your eyes open. Junie's having such a good time and Eddie whispers funny commentary beside you, but eventually your eyelids creep shut and Eddie squeezes your arm, skin braceleted by his thick, warm fingers.

"C'mere," Eddie prompts, hands vying for your daughter where she's perched in your lap.

"Why?" Junie asks.

He's surprised at her inquisition. "You don't want a hug?"

She nods voraciously. Eddie lifts her off of your lap before she can use you as a climbing frame and into his own.

"I think mommy's sleeping," he tells her.

Junie looks at you curiously. You've got a wet wipe in your limp hand, which he takes and discards, and your head's fallen to one side. You'll have an awesome crick in your neck when you wake up.

Junie gives him a hug. He loves her hugs. They're so small and sweet, she's genuinely an extremely loving little girl. Her smile when she hugs people is beautiful as yours is, though her affection is less hesitant.

Everything's going well until she catches a look at the huge, scary bad guy Professor Ratigan somewhere in the middle.

Eddie's crunching through a greedy mouthful of popcorn and almost chokes as she turns around and hides in his chest. He brings a hand up to her back protectively though he doesn't know what happened, eyes moving between her and the screen at lightning speed.

"Aw, June," he murmurs sympathetically. He really is a scary looking guy.

"Eddie," she says, dangerously close to tears.

"Sweetheart, it's okay! He's only on TV."

She says something that might be, "Don't want." It's not quite there but Eddie thinks she's doing a great job lately with her talking, patting her back in a silent well done as he attempts to reassure her. "Basil's gonna outsmart him, Junie. The Great Mouse Detective is gonna save the day, scout's honour."

"No," she whines softly.

He covers her unhappy face with his hand.

"It's okay," he murmurs, melted and bemused. "It's okay, junebug. I swear."

Despite his best efforts, she starts to cry. Eddie freezes up because she doesn't cry often, not with him. When she does you're always there to find a solution. He supposes the novelty of being a new person has long worn off, and that he's going to have to make more of an effort than just tickling her or petting her hair to make it better.

Her volume increases. He shushes her, clumsy and awkward but earnest, trying the best that he can to make it up. He offers candies and drinks, he rummages through your baby bag for Mr. Bear. She takes it all but none of it lasts.

Someone in the chair behind him coughs pointedly.

Eddie turns to wake you up. He gets one good look at your face and can't follow through.

You're sleeping deeply, at the movie theatre of all places. How tired are you, and why hadn't you said? He'd known to some extent — it's why he'd offered to drive — but with the movie blaring and all the kids and noise and now Junie's crying, he realises you must be exhausted to sleep through it. Why hadn't he noticed? He kicks himself.

He lifts her up with his head angled down, giving your shoulder a swift squeeze and then bumping down the steps with Junie until he's out into the lights of the hallway. The door swings closed.

It's oddly quiet and extremely bright. Junie stops crying to blink, and starts to cry again once she's adjusted.

Eddie does not know what to do. It's a kick to his ego that he quickly accepts, though he does murmur a rueful, "Babe, I thought you liked me."

Lost on deaf ears, his comment hangs in the air.

He pats her back some more, wracking his brain for how you take care of her when she gets like this. Mostly, you're patient. You hum and you wait. Eddie tries to emulate you and your kind heart, walking her up and down the hall as he taps the bottom of her spine.

"It's okay," he repeats. The more he says it the easier it feels. It is okay. He has to find a way to help June understand that, is all.

She grizzles. It's a long process. A couple of times he wonders if he's in over his head, if it's even his place, if he should wake you up and admit defeat.

But Eddie Munson is trying to prove something.

He works Mr. Bear out of Junie's iron grip and pinches his back taut so that his face and arms wiggle when he wants them to.

"Baby June," he begins, in as gruff a voice as he can manage. He tries to channel his uncle's sternness, and his fondness. "Won't you quit crying? You're getting tears on the neck of your t-shirt and all over your cheeks."

Junie quietens. She still cries, but the severity of the situation noticeably shifts.

Eddie keeps on. "I got just the thing," he says, pushing Mr. Bear forward and making smacking sounds as he kisses both of her cheeks. "Gotta kiss these tears right off a'you."

She laughs as Mr. Bear kisses her face dry and laughs some more when Eddie kisses the top of her head.

Eddie loves Junie.

He knows it for a fact.

She's very easy to love. She's beautiful as you are, she's loving, she's sweet. Her laugh is adorable and her smile is more. When she cries, Eddie finds he's never annoyed. Grated by the repetitive sound, maybe, but he can't find it in himself to be mad with her ever. He wants to help her work through it. To get you both through it. Eddie wants to be good at this.

He has Mr. Bear kiss Junie all over her face.

"See?" Mr. Bear asks. "Isn't that better? No more tears, little girl, or we'll never see the end of the movie!"

As Eddie says it, he wonders if taking her back into the theatre is a good idea.

"Hey, junebug?" he says, all drama set aside.

Junie lifts her flushed face.

He smiles gratefully. "Do you wanna go back inside? Go check on mommy?" Leaving you by yourself doesn't exactly sit right with him.

Ah, there's the face he was expecting. Puzzlement, surprise. Junie frowns at him and looks over his shoulder, her own, searching the empty hallway for you and finding only reflective floor lights and patterned carpet.

Eddie starts back into the screen room before she can cry over your being missing, chatting quietly but in a way that commands her attention. He's effective in the art of distraction if nothing else.

The mouse detective and his friends have defeated Professor Ratigan, though Eddie shields Junie's head from the screen in case he's thinking about making a comeback, finding his way back to you in the dark. He picks over other people's snacks and then the abundance of your own, finding you still sound asleep. The sight doesn't spell good tidings.

"Here she is," Eddie tells Junie, "here's mom. You wanna give her a kiss?"

He sits down in his seat and squishes a bag of gummy worms under his boot. Junie immediately bends over the armrest and grabs at your front. You'd worried to him once that she had separation anxiety, and Eddie didn't know anything about it to agree or not. This display makes him think she might. She's clinging to you, desperately wanting your attention.

Eddie winces as she grabs your face. She's obviously not trying to be cruel, hand stroking over your cheek as you'd stroke hers.

"Mom," she whispers, the action itself enough to get Eddie laughing. Her version of whispering is almost like a character in a pantomime.

He doesn't laugh for very long. You're not easy to wake up. Junie squishes your cheek and tries again. "Mommy," she says.

You groan in your sleep and your eyes scrunch together. "What?" you murmur finally, voice scratchy.

"You're missing the movie," Eddie says, patting your thigh.

Your arms come to life before you do. You wrap them around Junie's short torso and encourage her up your chest until you can nose at the top of her head. You rub slow lines, a steady back and forth. Eddie would bet money you don't have a clue in the world where you are.

"S'loud," you complain. Your voice is weak with sleep.

Junie looks at Eddie weirdly. He suspects it's her way of asking him to help out without asking.

He tenses his hand where it rests at your thigh. "Do you wanna go home?"

You don't answer. You go limp under his touch and Junie's weight, nose and lips set in a frown but otherwise near languid.

Eddie's small (and alarmingly ever-present) worry for you multiplies by a hundred.

He grabs up a bag of chips and entices your daughter back onto his thigh. She digs through half the bag as the movie draws to a finish, distracted if not happy, her face and fingers swiftly flaked in corn dust. The lights are thrown up and the noise is immense, a hundred pairs of shoes over tipped popcorn, babies and young kids unsettled, their parents eager to head home and watch their own movies no doubt.

Eddie can't say he'd really watched the film besides precursory glances, his focus on you and your fidgety offspring. He'd been excited to tell you about his Junie success, but now he just wants to get you home.

He says your name as clearly as he can, his hand finding its way to your thigh for the third time. He rubs down toward your knee and gives your leg a shake.

Junie climbs off of his own. Now the lights are on she can see the grand assortment of snacks laid out before her, and she seems eager to try them all.

You eventually, thankfully rouse, you drag a palm over your eyes and cross your legs, squishing his hand in the process. He steals it back.

"Babe, you gotta get up. The attendants are looking at us funny. I think they think I've run you ragged, and while the dad tag doesn't bother me, 'cruel husband' doesn't suit me."

"What?" you ask.

He shrugs. "Junie pissed her pants."

Your eyes open, lashes parting clumsily. You move like the air around you has turned to glue and moan in a quiet display of agony as your neck clicks. "She leaked through?"

"Nah, I'm messing with you. Movie's done. Getting some weird stares."

You're quiet, but you shrug on your jacket and Eddie packs what he can of the leftover candy into your bag. He swings it over his shoulder.

"You wanna come up?" he asks Junie.

She raises both arms.

You stand on shaky legs. Eddie stations Junie on one hip with one arm wrapped around her and holds out the other. You let him fold you up into his side.

"You okay?" he asks.

Your face drops into his shoulder. "I'm so tired."

"You're alright to walk out to the car?"

His worry is like a rubber band. You snap to attention, disengage from his hold. It's a foreign and really uncomfortable feeling to see you out of sorts.

Eddie walks behind you with a hand nearly but not touching your back. If you topple, he's not sure how he's gonna save you. Determined anyways, he guards you down the hollow stairs and through the hallway, one step behind you.

It's a cool, crisp night outside.

The smell of rain sticks around. You lift your chin. It's much colder now that night's fallen. The breeze kisses your damp skin. When did you start sweating?

He presses his hand to your shoulders and guides you across the road.

Junie starts her lovely babbling in his ear. "Mouse 'tective," she says at one point. You don't react, affirming his theory: you're more than tired. You're sick.

"Mouse detective," he agrees, arm around your shoulder to assuage his own worries as he gives Junie the best of his attention. "You liked that one, huh?" Besides the evil Professor. "Better than the Muppets in New York? Junebug, you little traitor. How easily your favour changes."

"Are you surprised? She took to you like," — you yawn wide enough that Eddie feels it under his arm, a full body thing — "a duck to water."

He beams, relieved to hear your voice. "Yeah, well, I'm special."

"That's true."

Eddie walks you around to the passenger side and opens your door.

"Flirting! Awesome. You're not too sick to forget how much of a catch I am. Watch your head."

"I gotta do Junie's straps," you say.

"I think I can do it by now."

He's only sort of bluffing. It takes him much longer than it would've taken you. He celebrates his win by pinching her cheek lightly and then whacking his head hard on the roof of your car.

"Fuck," he mutters as he jogs around the hood, scrubbing at the back of his head.

You're staring at him as he opens the door.

He puts the baby bag in your lap and shoves the key in the ignition, trying not to buckle under the weight of your gaze. He cracks quicker than he should, hand paused in its action.

"What?"

"You tryna give yourself a concussion?"

"Kiss it better?"

You kiss the tip of your finger and touch it to his head. It's an instant healing potion.

Getting you both home is easy enough, it's the trying to leave that's hard. You collapse heavily into the couch, Junie drapes herself over your lap and begs for her clothes to be taken off. Your second wind has worn away to nothing, leaving you plainly exhausted.

Eddie can't go home, not until he knows you're alright.

He slinks into your bedroom and tries not to look around too much. It feels like an invasion of privacy despite having made it in here a couple of times, always with his hip to the door as you search for something. He fails spectacularly and straight away, always hungry to know more about you. These days especially.

Your bed looks like you shook out the duvet but never tucked the corners. Your pillow's on the floor, your thin throw blanket is screwed up in a ball. There's a bunch of Junie's stuffies against the headboard. He grins at their straight backs.

He makes for your wardrobe, a cheap bit of cherry wood with one sagging door. As much as he wants to outfit Junie in her goodwill band t-shirt, he pulls a soft pair of cotton pyjamas out from a neatly folded stack, thumbing the blue fabric fondly. There's a noticeable disparity between her clothes and yours. One work skirt and one work shirt hang from two lonely hangers, accompanied only by your infamous 'best jeans'. He frowns at a small stain at the knee and scratches it fruitlessly. Not her best jeans, he thinks in horror, picturing your unhappy face. He can see it so clearly, the pinching of your brows.

Junie squeals happily from the living room. Eddie remembers himself and follows the sound, finding you both on the ground. You're kneeling, blowing raspberries into Junie's naked stomach where she lays on her changing mat, a discarded diaper and her dirty clothes to the side.

There's a big break between raspberries where your eyes drift shut sluggishly. Junie whines for another.

Eddie sits next to you. Stupidly close, his crossed leg kisses your thigh. He could wrap you up in a hug easily right here, and he wants to. Your tired face has his stomach aching with guilt.

"Sweetheart," he says to you firmly, "get back on the couch. You look like you're gonna fall asleep right here."

You don't argue, leaving Eddie the impossible duty of dressing your baby. Junie hates the shirt more than he can describe, loathes the fabric as it covers her face. He has to pick her up to get her into her pants, another fury. She forgives him easily once he's done, lingering by his side with Mr. Bear in hand. She pinches his back and imitates Eddie's low growl, laughing at herself as she does. She finds it very funny. Eddie can't help giggling with her.

"Eddie?" you ask.

He turns. You look miserable.

"What?" he asks softly, startled by your intense expression.

"Thank you."

"Oh, baby," he says, loud and brash as he twists where he is to grab both of your knees. He practically throws himself at you, at your feet, ducking his cheek to your leg. "You really are sick as a dog."

You look visibly embarrassed.

"Listen," he says, insistent, "If we start saying thank you to each other, we won't stop. We'll be a loop of thank yous."

"I think I have more to say than you do," you murmur.

He shakes his head, exasperated at your inability to see him for what he is even now. It's funny. Eddie thinks you've a better view of him than anybody else, that you see him more generously than anyone has ever seen him, and you still haven't noticed he's a boy in love.

You must feel his grin as he kisses your knee, his thumb stroking over the ridge of the cap.

"If I started to say thanks for all the things you've given me I wouldn't stop. I'd talk myself hoarse," Eddie argues.

You laugh at his dungeon master dramatics, but reaffirm, "I haven't given you anything."

"You don't know what you've given me," he says into your leg.

Eddie lifts his head, weary of his chin digging into your leg.

Now isn't the best time to declare devotion, or drop kisses into you when you can't offer any in return. Not that he's expecting you to. Not that he wouldn't receive them gratefully.

"I should go home."

You reach for him. Your hand moves slowly like you've a weight around your wrist, but your fingertips curve over his cheek; you move from the corner of his lip, under his eye, and then finish your circle at the skin beneath his ear.

"Can you hug me?" you ask.

"Yeah," Eddie says. He doesn't waste any time.

He gets up, slides a knee between your knees and rests his full weight on the couch between them as his arms curve around you and his hands feel for the dip of your lower back. He clutches without any hesitation.

"Can I? Did you mean it like that? My arms work fine."

You curl your arms around him and groan. "You're gonna crush me."

"Really?" He pulls you closer. "How 'bout now?"

"Ow," you whine.

He laughs and pushes his face toward your ear. "Liar," he whispers. "No way that hurts."

"Why's everybody always on top of me?"

"That's your issue?" He pulls back. "You want to sit in my lap?"

"No!"

"Aw, my poor girl. You totally wanna sit in my lap. Alright, get in it."

He sits down beside you and waits, one arm still behind your back. He gives you an encouraging tug.

"I'm not sitting in your lap."

"I didn't think you would, just- Just c'mere," he prompts, pulling your face into his chest.

Your arms slide around his waist. He can feel the scratchy skin on your left index finger, a scar of a recent kitchen accident, against his hip where his shirt has ridden.

"You're really handsy. Has anyone told you that before?" Eddie asks, trying to cover the entirety of your back with his arms alone.

You push your face as far as it'll go into his chest. Eddie keeps you there, and soon a little body has found its way onto the couch next to you both, demanding to be included. Eddie quickly drags her in.

Long minutes of quiet hugs.

"Wish we could stay like this forever," you murmur.

"Well, I'm not going anywhere. If you were worried."

He massages over the slope of your shoulder, a tight looking muscle. You sigh inaudibly, a hot patch over his heart.

"I wasn't," you say.

Eddie thinks you might finally be on the same page.

You get really, really sick.

"On my days off!" you croak, the injustice too much to handle.

Eddie laughs from the end of your bed, a bandana tied around his face like a doctor from one of his awful horror movies, though the bandana is far from a clinical white. "That's exactly why you're still sick. Your body sensed the weekend."

Hadn't it? You'd been achy and awful on Friday and Benny had sent you home at lunch, citing a need to keep his patrons from infection. Which sucked, because you'd really wanted to stick around for the very beginning of the Friday night rush and get some payday tips. People are generous when they're high on the buzz of a forthcoming weekend, especially to over obsequious waitresses.

It had sucked worse when Junie came out of daycare in the best mood ever and demanded kisses. You'd had a headache the size of a tennis ball behind your eyes and didn't want to pass anything over, and the crushed look on her face had made you cry in the car on the way home.

Eddie dropped in particularly early that night with soup. "I had a feeling," he'd said.

And now here he is again the day after.

"At least one of us is enjoying this," you say.

"You think I'm enjoying this?" Eddie asks.

You give his precautionary outfit a once over. "Yes."

"This is just something I had lying around."

"Shut up! Shut up, no it wasn't!" You're voice cracks, giggly and giddy even with the spikes of pain to your tender head.

"It was. We did a campaign, I was a plague doctor-"

"That is in terrible taste."

"It was perfectly appropriate, thank you very much. You're determined to vilify me. Need to slow down with the cold medicine, I think."

You shriek as he tries to take the bottle. "No! No, please, my throat hurts."

He takes the bottle. It is a hurtful defeat. You curl your fingers around nothing and sulk, slouching down into a sanctuary of pillows and blankets to hide from him. Extra pillows provided by Eddie. With fresh covers, duh. They smell like him anyway. You turn your nose into it indulgently.

"You've had too much to safely be responsible for any further consumption."

"Further consumption," you echo, eyes closing in defeat as he leaves.

"You okay, June?" you hear him ask, voice occluded partially by the sound of the TV.

"Okay, Eddie?" she asks.

You grin to yourself.

"I'm great. This looks very fun. I'm gonna make mom a cold pack for her head and then you can help me make dinner, okay? Does that sound fun? Tell me, June."

The 'Tell me, June,' isn't a command so much as a gentle reminder that she can answer the question if she wants to.

"Fun," she says.

"Hey, great. Oh, thank you. Thank you."

They better not be cuddling without me, you think bitterly, grin swiftly replaced by a self-pitying frown.

You cough into your hand, roil in your own misery for a second and then grab the big glass of water Eddie had insisted on from the night stand. You tip it down yourself in your hurry.

"Missed your mouth," Eddie says, appearing at exactly the wrong moment.

"Don't baby me."

He pads into the room with a cold pack wrapped in a hand towel. "For your head."

"This is silly. I don't need to be in bed."

"Obviously you do. You're sick, did you notice? Stupid question," he adds regretfully, gesturing for you to lie back. He sets the pack to your forehead. "You wouldn't notice a hole in your stomach. You'd be dripping entrails in the freezer aisle wondering if Junie wants corn on the cob or mashed potato with dinner tonight."

"What does she want for dinner tonight?"

"Boo! Exactly my point."

"I'm gonna go ask her-"

Eddie puts an unapologetic hand in the middle of your chest and pushes down. "You will do no such thing." He lowers his face to yours. "I'm willing to get physical. So behave."

You flush with heat because you're sick and not because he says it a certain way, dropping back down into your fluffed pillows without another word.

Eddie's hand climbs up to your collar, your neck. His fingers slide one after another behind it. It's a blessed cold. You can't find a comfortable temperature today, moving between chills and hot flashes at the drop of a hat.

Or a bandana. Eddie unties the dark fabric from his neck and leaves it where it lands, staring at you without saying anything.

His thumb presses into your sore throat carefully, the barest hint of pressure, and his lips part. He doesn't say anything for a while. It looks like he wants to.

"Do me a favour?" he asks finally.

"Of course." Anything to feel useful right now.

"Take it easy." He again lowers his head, talking to you with a private smile. "The sooner you chill out, the sooner you'll beat this thing."

"Don't say that. Like I have something serious."

"The sooner you'll beat this moderate-"

"Mild-"

"-affliction." He strokes quarter-circles into your neck.

"I don't need to lie down. There's things I have to do."

"On a Saturday?"

"Yes. There's things I need to do everyday." You clear your throat. It's useless, the lump remains and your voice stays scratchy. "I have- I always have laundry. So that first. Gotta wash it and put it out and bring it in and press it. I gotta make sure Junie has lunch for daycare this week 'n if she doesn't I have to go get it, I gotta," — you cover his hand with your own thoughtlessly — "make sure her rash is getting better. And I promised we'd do a tea party tomorrow, I have to make sandwiches!"

"We both know she doesn't remember the tea party."

"I promised."

"And if I… If I tried to get all those things done, would you stay in bed?"

"You can't."

"But if I tried it? I can do laundry. I'm good at it. Get oil stains out of Wayne's coveralls every Sunday."

You slump into a lump of sadness and achy arms. "Don't do my laundry. Don't do any of that stuff. I'll punch you if you do."

Eddie bursts into laughter. "You'll punch me? You horrible woman."

"I will," you promise, fingers curling around his arm to hold him in place.

"Why don't I believe you?"

"I don't know. 'Cos you're a know-it-all who dislikes me."

"I far from dislike you." He grins at you, all dimpled and pretty. "I don't believe you'd hit me because I know you, idiot."

"Name-calling."

"Uh-huh. Are you sleeping or am I helping you out onto the couch?"

While you're happy for the compromise, you have one problem. "I don't think I can move."

Eddie lets his face fall amicably to your collar. "No, I bet you can't. More reason for me to get you on the couch. I think you've genuinely had too much cough syrup," he worries, warm breath fanning over your skin.

You bring your spare hand to his head. He has so many curls.

He lifts his head and you're close enough to kiss. There's no other reason anyone has ever been this close.

"I can see your beauty mark," you say, hushed. You don't wanna breathe on him too much.

"Freckle."

"Your freckle." You lift and drop his curls, fingers toying through the softness towards his roots, the frizz at the ends.

"You- You smell like fucking cherry syrup."

You abandon his hair to clap a hand over your mouth. "I'm sorry."

He covers his own mouth. "It's okay," he says, similarly muffled. "I like the sweet stuff."

What the fuck does that mean? Your stomach doesn't flip — it leaps right up into your throat. "You're an idiot," you breathe, caught off guard.

"What was that?" he asks, taking away his hand. "Didn't catch it."

"I said, 'You're an-"

"Amazing friend and confidante?"

You try to talk and he says, "A real stand-up guy?"

You try again and he says, "A total rockstar? Baby, if you really think all this you should've said."

You flop completely onto your back, away from his hands, his jokes and his lovely brown eyes where they bore into your own. Eddie hums and rubs brashly over the top of your arm until the skin glows with heat.

"Please stay in bed," Eddie says as he stands.

Medicine or his touch, you're feeling pretty tired. You pull up your blankets and sink like a stone, head disappearing into a mess of pillows and throws.

It's much later when you wake. You move into the land of the living abrupt as whiplash.

Eddie seems very sorry. "Sweetheart, June's past due for a new diaper, and I-"

"Oh, right," you say, sounding much more alert than you feel. You're a girl made of sandpaper.

"I would've, I mean. If it wouldn't make you uncomfortable, I would've tried. But I've never changed a diaper in my life."

You scratch your flaky eyes, disorientated and head like a boiling saucepan with the lid glued on.

"That's okay," you say. Your voice refuses to cooperate with you, gruff and too quiet. "It wouldn't bother me, but it's also not your job, so… Um." You yawn wide and cover your entire face.

You spend a minute rubbing your eyes.

"Fuck, what time's it?" you ask, squinting at him and bringing your hands to either side of your face.

"Like, seven. Ish."

"Eddie…"

"I know. I thought you could use the rest. I knew you could. And it's not urgent, you know? Come around, first. Everything's stellar."

You peel back the sheets. You're a clammy, too-hot mess with weak legs.

Eddie sees you wobble and rushes to wrap an arm around your waist. Completely unnecessarily, heart-achingly kind. You wince at the dampness of your shirt under his touch.

Junie sits on the couch in her jammies with a yellow-green soup stain down the front. She's propped up like a princess, a pillow behind her head between the armrest and her blanket covering her legs, cheek pressed to the cushions. Eyes trained on the TV and her bottle propped in a slackening grip, your baby is peaceful, near luxurious.

Only a little wiggle might suggest she's uncomfortable.

You part from Eddie's side and sit down beside her, the seat warm. She doesn't even look up.

"What, no hi for mom?" you ask tenderly, hand falling to the top of her head. She's lovely.

She gasps, little lungs fit to burst. It's pure excitement, her bottle dislodged and the blanket pushed away immediately. She doesn't bother getting to her feet, throwing herself into your lap and assuming you'll do the rest. Of course you will. You pull her up and kiss the top of her head, though you quickly hold her at arm's length.

"Sorry, mommy's still sick," you tell her, sympathetic at her crushed expression.

"Mis'd," she says.

"Yeah? You missed me?" you ask hopefully.

Her lips part in comprehension. "Missed you," she confirms.

You throw your gaze over your shoulder to Eddie. He stands by Junie's changing station with a smug smile. "What?"

"You're not very convincing."

"I'm not trying to convince you, thanks," he says, holding up two hands in surrender.

"She didn't learn that herself," you argue.

"She might've. You tell her enough."

You go back to your girl, pleased at her own smug smile. "I missed you, too, I missed you so much. Missed you millions. Sorry I've been sleeping all day, you've been such a good girl. She has, hasn't she?"

Eddie sorts through a nearly empty bag of diapers and brandishes one with fish printed on the back. "Oh, yeah. Junebug's been amazing. She came in with me to see you earlier, took your temperature." You frown. "From a distance. Kind of. I held her above you. It was… acrobatic."

You close your eyes at his absurdity, your laugh prompting another spike of pain.

Junie forces herself closer and gets both arms around your neck.

You sag into the contact, defeated. "Aw, June," you mumble ruefully. "M'trying to make sure you don't get sick too. Wasting my time."

"Mommy," she says into your neck.

"That's me."

You know she has something she wants to say. You can't wait for the days where she can. Exciting, to think that one day she'll be able to share all of her thoughts.

Right now, she's probably thinking, Woah, mom, you smell weird. And you look weirder.

You feel her back with your hand and cringe. Definitely time to get her changed.

Afterward, you sit with your back to the open front door on one of the porch steps. Physical exertion of any kind seems to be inadvisable; you're sweating up a storm. Junie sits beside you at her own insistence, her hand clasped in your hand and her head on your arm. You look down at her thighs next to your own and marvel at their small size. The evening breeze is a blessing.

Eddie stands in front of you with his backpack slung over his shoulder and a checklist.

"Tea party sandwiches are badly made and saran wrapped in the fridge. Junie doesn't have lunch for Monday but I can go tomorrow if you want me to. Her clothes are folded in the hamper. Uh, some stuff got left out, you might need to press them. Not tonight though, please."

"Thank you."

He talks around a smile. "Soup's on the stove. I'll come back later, if-"

"You don't have to."

"I want to. I wouldn't actually leave, but-"

"Eddie-" You cough into your shoulder. He waits for you to finish. "You- You didn't have to take care of me."

"What does that mean? Of course I did."

He hikes his backpack higher up his shoulder and pads back up the steps, not all of them but enough for him to lean down and stare at Junie.

"Thanks for the best day ever," he says seriously, looking out of the corner of his eye at you. "Almost. See you later?"

Junie nods voraciously and reaches up with her empty hand. Eddie takes it and kisses her temple. He does the same to you, lips brushing soft as downy-feather over your skin.

"I'll come back around ten? Is that cool?"

"Don't knock too loudly," you mumble, very aware of his proximity.

He backs up and bows like an idiot, hand moving in circles.

You and Junie wave him off.

"To work?" Junie asks.

Your eyebrows jump as you pull your gaze from his retreating figure. "Huh?"

"To work?"

You play with her fingers. "No, he's not going to work. He's going to take care of someone else, now."

Wayne, Eddie said, in a fondly exasperated tone that explained everything you needed to know. His uncle's self-preservation must come in similar disinterest to himself as yours does to you.

"We'll see him tomorrow," you say. It's not even a lie, you will both see him tomorrow.

But apparently he's coming back tonight.

True to his word, Eddie Munson knocks your door carefully at nearing ten o'clock.

Wayne's dismissal chases his heels. He'd spent an hour worrying about you at the dinner table with his uncle, fingers curling anxiously in his hair.

Wayne had been talking about some gab the boys in the shop had heard about killer mice or killer lice or something when he'd suddenly cleared his throat and snapped Eddie to attention.

"You're a good kid. Notice how I said good, and not smart," Wayne had said.

"Gee, thanks. You always did know how to make a guy feel loved, Wayne."

"You don't wanna be here."

Eddie had frowned. "Obviously I do."

"Kid, what I mean is, you gotta," — he'd nodded his head hard to one side and raised his eyebrows — "you know."

"Haven't brushed up on my mysterious gestures lately. Translate that one for me?"

Wayne had flicked up his newspaper and sighed. "Don't be dumb."

"You keep saying that."

"You keep being dumb, boy."

"I don't know what you want me to do."

"Think you better go look after your girl, don't you?" Wayne had asked finally, clearing his throat.

So here he is to look after you. A tad early, worried you'll be sleeping on the couch with a misbehaving baby in your lap or passed out in the bathroom after an impromptu cleaning.

Thankfully, you open the door in different clothes than he'd left you in, the neckline dark with run-off and face damp under your eyes and by your ears. You dab at your tacky skin with your index knuckle.

"You look better," he says. He wishes he could take it back instantly, though you don't take any offence.

"Hot shower," you explain.

You step back to let him in. Eddie closes the door behind him without turning, eyes glued to your fresh face. He's depressed by the lingering fatigue he finds lining your darling features.

"You okay?" you ask him, perturbed by his silence.

Eddie's better than okay.

He steps close. You look like you might step back, make room for him he doesn't want, so he reaches out for your face and holds it in one hand, the other landing in tandem on your arm.

Your cheek lists into his hand as he wipes away what's left of the dampness on your face. He's not sure you know you're doing it.

"Did you take any more medicine?" he asks quietly, rubbing under your eye carefully with the tip of his thumb.

"No, I- I think you fixed me, Munson. Me and Junie had your soup, and after a shower I felt way better. It was really nice. She slept easy."

He presses the back of his hand to your forehead. "You don't feel too hot."

"Like I said. Fixed me. My hero."

He looks over your shoulder at your life — at his life, or at least where a majority of it seems to take place. All his favourite parts these days happen right there on your couch, or at that table, or knee to knee with a baby that isn't his but- but-

"You said that to me the first time we met," Eddie recalls, shaking his head. It's like there's water in his ears. A few strands of hair drift into his eyes.

You catch his elbows in both hands. "It feels like a really long time ago now."

Months. Only months. "I feel like I've known you for years."

He strokes over your face, chin to cheek, the tip of his thumb pressed to the corner of your mouth.

"That's how I feel, too," you whisper. Utter. Hushed, your words ring loud anyway. "You're my best friend."

Eddie doesn't take it for a door closing because it isn't. It's a door kicked wide open. Split on its hinges. You and Eddie stand on equal ground, and, for once, the same page.

"You know I don't mind taking care of you?" he asks, hand passing over your ear to hide behind it. He wants to see all of your face.

Predictably, you drop your eyes to his neck, pupils wobbling as you search for somewhere to plant yourself. "I know. I'm not sure I deserve it."

"Why wouldn't you deserve it? Everyone deserves taking care of."

"Even murderers?"

"Maybe not murderers-"

"The evil guys from your game? Necromancers?"

"They're not all evil." His left palm skirts up the curve of your neck, encouraging your face back to his. "Don't change the subject."

You press your lips together, caught.

"I actually…" — he gathers as much bravery as he has — "want to take care of you."

"You do."

He holds your face in both hands. "You know you- You know you started it, right? You know it's- that without your-" He cringes internally at his stammering, but he has to get this part right. "You have gold where your heart should be."

"Y/N The Golden Hearted. Doesn't have the best ring to it," you muse, hands clinging to the crooks of his elbows like twin pooled teardrops waiting to fall.

Eddie stares at you, floored.

"What about you?"

"What about me?" he asks.

"What's your name?" you demand, grinning.

"Eddie the Subtle. Munson the Mad."

You huff a laugh. "That's a cop-out."

"Maybe."

"How about…" The air feels thick as jelly. Light from under the bedroom door stops short of your legs, your toes almost touching. His rubber soles, your socks. "Eddie the Indomitable?"

He crinkles his nose. "I'd almost think you were trying to flirt with me, that's how bad that is."

Your blinks are slow. Your eyes soften.

"What if I was?" you ask.

A stock-still silence pervades, filled only by the hum of the refrigerator and the droning of the bathroom light, left on. He could tell you the contents of this room by its sounds alone.

His hand moves of its own accord, up and down the slope of your neck. "I'd say you needed a better pick up line."

"Like what?" you ask, chest rising too fast.

Eddie takes a step and feels his jacket zipper cut into the cotton of your shirt. It's your matching band t-shirt.

Eddie drags his gaze slowly to your widened eyes, your lashes as they move almost imperceptibly upward. Taking him in as he inches closer.

"You're so fucking pretty," he says.

He leans in. He closes the gap. Eddie Munson takes the leap.

Your hand comes quickly to his upper arm and you turn your face just enough to force his lips, his kiss landing a centimetre shy of your nose.

He struggles to keep his eyes closed. His heart thrums like a blown amp.

"You can't kiss me," you say. Eddie struggles to discern your tone.

His nose presses to yours. Not desperately, but almost. "I can't?" he asks, throat thick with emotion, a stickying, cloying taffy.

"I'll make you sick."

He turns your face with his palm, lips hovering above yours, a hair's width. Close enough to feel their heat.

"Can I trust you'll nurse me back to health, in the event that that happens?" Would you take care of me? His hands tremble where they're touching you. He's too scared to open his eyes.

You don't answer.

You cover his hands and the seconds stretch endlessly, a thousand moments of terror and pining and want suddenly flattened into one as you kiss him.

He exhales against you. His relief is a palpable, viscous thing as he pulls you in and his nose digs into yours. Lips soft as he'd imagined, as he'd known they'd be, you kiss back tentatively. Sweetly.

You're kissing him like he's something that needs a careful touch.

Eddie screws his eyes shut tight enough to see stars, firecrackers, a shattering bouquet of colours as you move beneath him. He can't believe he's kissing you. He can't believe there was a time where he wasn't.

He yields, leaning back just enough to see your face. You keep your eyes shut, your eyelashes kissing the delicate skin beneath. They move like blades of grass in the breeze as Eddie tries to catch his breath, regaining some of his composure. It's hard while he's here, this close.

You make a small sound, a breath like a barb. The shaky demarcation of tears.

"Okay?" he asks, more movement than sound. His lips skip over your own.

You have to feel it.

A laugh bubbles up through your parted lips like a hiccup. "I'm definitely gonna make you sick," you mumble regretfully.

"Make me sick, sweetheart," he says, begs. Whatever.

Whatever word you want to use. He doesn't care if he pays for it afterwards, he wants to be close to you now, unapologetically close. And kissing you — kissing you like this, your reciprocation, it's everything because it means you feel the same as he does.

Or a fraction the same. He's reassured either way. If you felt a fraction of what he felt, that's enough.

It's a lot. To be touching you, finally. He grabs at the nape of your neck and kisses, kisses, kisses. He goes slowly, not quite sweetly. He's never been as sweet as you have, never as soft or patient.

It doesn't feel like it matters.

You pull his hands from your face, press his and your own, all four hands to the collar of your shirt.

"It wasn't just a, uh, pick up line, was it?" you ask breathlessly.

"Wh- No." Eddie massages the back of your hands. "No, you're the fucking prettiest girl ever. I think you're aces. Killer. Everything."

"Everything," you say, an almost indecipherable glassiness to your eyes.

"Everything," he says. He spreads his hand over your heart.

You don't throw yourself at him, but you move alarmingly quickly. Arms over his shoulders, hands crossed and buried in his hair. Your laugh is magic, a bright and exuberant sound loud in his ear and then the skin underneath. He's barely got an arm around the small of your back when you start to kiss him, repetitive, chaste pecks over his pulse. It capers under your lips.

"I don't know what kind of girl you think I am-" He begins deadpan and breaks abruptly, your second wave of laughter impossible to ignore.

Your arms tighten at his laughing, palm cupping the back of his head.

"You're my best friend, too," he says. "But you knew that."

"Maybe," you murmur, your smile wide against his skin. You're uncharacteristically mischievous.

He lets his back bend under your weight until your heels lift and you're scrabbling to stay on your own two feet and is rewarded by your shrieking laughter.

Oh, god, he thinks, ecstatic.

"Wait," you say, bargaining for freedom as he squeezes you hard enough to make you laugh again, and again, "wait, wait! Wait, let go. I have something to tell you."

Eddie sets you down. He's reluctant to let you go, almost desperate to hug you now that he knows he can, but his curiosity gets the better of him. What could you have to tell him now that isn't confessional? It's like being promised something good.

You stand sure and sweet in front of him.

"It's…" You look shyly at his lips.

"What?"

"I…"

He shakes his head gently from side to side. "What? Tell me."

"Nothing," you say, beaming. Act dropped, you take his face into both hands and kiss him soundly.

Eddie's barely got his hands on you before you're pulling back.

"Just wanted to do that," you say.

𓆩❤︎𓆪

thank you for reading! | my masterlist | this fic is multi-chapter

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