#I'M EXCITED for how insane this will get let's go

[sansgout]

“ it is not in vain to have a good APPETITE . ” / from hannibal ☺️☺️☺️

@multimusae || here is the match made in . . . anything but heaven, everyone

Vincent hates this.

He hates that the man need only say that one seemingly insignificant phrase to give him pause—rather, to practically stun him in place, as if he's been administered a shock and must power through the residual prickles lining his skin. He swallows what he can only imagine would be a sour taste in his mouth, smoothing the lines on his face to something far more impassive before peering over.

“I would assume anyone showing up at my restaurant would have one of those, yes,” Vincent says plainly. His jaw's become tight, and though the eyes of his companion feel as though they're cutting right into him, he eases out a careful breath to loosen up. “And so it's my business to sate that. Has yours been satisfied”—his lips quirk, a hardly convincing smile—“sir?”

[moe-broey]

Wait what am I doing. I have Artwork.

[madamechrissy]

Escort! Satoru- part four

Pairings- Escort Satoru Gojo x shy CEO F! reader

Warnings- this is a LONG part like really long aha- mutual pining like a mf, obsessed ass/whipped ass Gojo, oral (f receiving) lots of tension, explicit sex, aftercare, honestly this got angsty asf, Satoru is bad at feelings. But dw the end will be happy,reader is HELLA rich and Satoru is almost a sugar baby- pretty woman vibes 🤭

<<<Part Three - Part Five>>>

Escort! Satoru dies when he sees you that night, he'd cum so many times to you it was ridiculous, why he was turning down your offers to make him cum he still can't figure out, why he's turning every offer is batshit insane. But all he can manage is to get women off and picture you with every single one of them, still trying to grin and go on dates, laugh and act like he enjoys any of it, when he can't get his mind of your lips half the time.

Escort! Satoru still has a five star rating, still makes money, he may get carpal tunnel from all the work his fingers put in though, since he can't manage to get hard around anyone anymore. He's shaking them even now as he struggles to form a word, as the woman richer than him is standing there in the night, prettier than any star in the sky- and since when was he so poetic, hmm? You're in a gown he can't describe, it fits your body so fucking perfect, your hair up in elegant curls, chandelier earrings dangling, enticing him with your bare neck and shoulders. He is dying to know what all of you looks like, not just parts of you, surely all of you is beautiful, so beautiful it makes a man like him stutter.

Escort! Satoru throws on a casual smile as you slip in the car with him now, giving him a hug and a kiss on his cheek, grinning so pretty at him. 'Is it weird to say I missed you?' your vulnerable question leaves him floored. 'Ignore that, I'm sorry... I bet a lot of girls get like confused...' he curses softly then, tilting your chin up when you look down. 'You're beautiful tonight' is his quiet, husky answer, and he can feel the heat of your cheeks when his thumb brushes one, and your breaths come quicker. 'Thank you, Satoru, you look handsome' you run a hand over his black dress shirt, slowly, as he sighs, pulling you against him then, lips an inch away. 'I was excited to see you-' 'shh' he puts a finger to your lips then, shaking his head. 'So am I'

Escort! Satoru has a hand slipping up your thigh, thumbing the garters there and sighing, looking down at where your thigh hits over your black stockings. 'God, look at you' his words fall out, and your breath quickens. 'How am I gonna make it through an auction when I wanna bury my cock in you?' your lips open and close, shifting your thighs now, as the desire floods through your body, your pulse quickening in the close proximity while you all let the driver lead you to this auction, when all you'd rather do is kiss him. You respect that he doesn't, you know you're delusional, but fuck if you're not falling into the fantasy that is Satoru- top escort there was. 'You want that?' your faint whisper makes him laugh without humor, it doesn't quite meet his eyes.

Escort! Satoru presses you down on his lap, hands on your hips, and you feel him then, cunt pulsing with need, exhaling as you're so close to lips that tempt you endlessly. 'What do you think, sweetheart?' His hoarse voice barely concealing the stark desire, your heat presses against his hard cock under his slacks, making your manicured nails press into his shoulders over the expensive tuxedo jacket, against his skin over the barrier. Satoru's blue eyes look up under snowy lashes, thinking just how beautiful you are, how much you make him ache for you. He cups your face, hand brushing along the delicate line of your jaw, as he sighs, drinking you in, the confines of the back of the car, that drives steadily underneath you.

Escort! Satoru makes you cry out when he grinds you on his cock, your throaty moan nearly ending him, he has such trouble holding back then, having thought of you every fucking day this week, stroking it so much it was damn near rubbed raw. Your earrings glitter in reflective prisms as Satoru kisses up your neck, as your head tilts to the side, allowing him further access. 'Satoru... mmm, please...' he's yanking your dress up over your hips, kissing lower over a breast, raising up and down as you pant, grinding on him. 'Please what, pretty girl?' His teeth nip your collar bone as the car stops, you both curse just a bit, you try to compose yourself, failing miserably, blowing a strand of hair off your face as you ease off his lap.

Escort! Satoru takes you inside the auction then. Arm and arm, the two of you walk past, people murmur about just how good you look, your business partners are glad to greet him, and Satoru seems to know more about you than you've even shared with him. Holding a glass of champagne, his hand on the small of your back, he grins easily at them, the warmth of his palm seeping into your skin. 'She's still just obsessed with sushi, you know she has been to five different places this month?' the men laugh now - 'she eats it all the time at work too' and you giggle a bit, admitting 'I do enjoy it, yes' but when they leave you look up at him curiously. 'What, did some research- you keep snapping pics on your IG' you giggle then. 'stalker much? maybe you did steal them?' Satoru smirks down at you, sipping his champagne now. 'No way, just thorough so I get another good tip you know' you pause now, sighing, and Satoru notices your mood shift.

Escort! Satoru wants to tell you the truth, that he was scrolling through your IG because he's dying to see more, know more about you, but he tries to hold it in, what would you see in him? Surely you desire him, he can feel it in your heat, see it in how you move, but he knows he's wanted for that. The two of you fall into a quiet, mingling still, when a tall man with shocking pink hair grins at you, he's another business partner apparently, grabbing you to him. When Satoru watches you dance with - Sukuna is the name- something makes him insane then, he does not like you giggling in a man's arms, even as your eyes keep catching his across the room, he hates his hands on you, big and tattooed, taking over your much smaller frame, daringly low on curve of your spine.

Escort! Satoru leans along the wall, peering at his phone now, trying to act unbothered, clients fell for him all the time, but not once has he confused himself. He accepts the next jobs tomorrow, trying to remember what he's here for, getting angrier the longer you dance, which feels like an eternity. When you finally get back, you're smiling up at him, but pause, seeing his full lips are in a frown. 'It's boring, isn't it? Pretentious' you try to tease, but he just can't answer you, even as you're sitting next to him now, and the items are going on display, he's stiff and tense. You wonder if he had better things to do, better jobs to take- perhaps it's just too boring? You lean close, a hand on his shoulder, holding the little auction tag in your other hand, and his blue eyes are cold. 'Satoru I'm sorry it's so boring, is there anything you'd like? You'll still get paid, of course...' he sighs now, shaking his head, you have no clue what's running through his mind.

Escort! Satoru wonders how you are single, when so many men flirt with you, are you oblivious to just how gorgeous you are? To how perfect you are to not just him, but seemingly everyone? 'It's fine, sweets, I've been to worse events' you miss the fun, sweet man you've grown to enjoy in just a few visits. He's shifted from the car- was that because it was physical? Surely that's what an escort like Satoru excels at. You try to remember you're just a client, not more. As there is a beautiful painting from your favorite artist, you end up bidding on it, and Satoru watches you light up when you win, so pretty with your eyes sparkling, smile breaking him down, to where he can hardly stand to look at you. He knows then, he can't keep taking your jobs- he can't perform with anyone now, and he's falling for someone who probably wouldn't consider him in her life.

Escort! Satoru doesn't pick anything out, so you immediately pay him on his app as you two wait for the car, the night breeze blowing, and you give your exorbitant tip that has him suddenly furious, gripping you by your waist suddenly, making you gasp. 'What is wrong with you tonight?' you whisper, blinking back tears suddenly, and he shakes his head at you. 'Why are you giving me so much, I was a shitty date, altogether awful, and you still overpay' you swallow nervously now, looking down at the dress flowing from the wind at your ankles. 'Because I enjoy having you around too much' he pauses at your admission, when the car finally pulls up, and you hug yourself tightly. 'I'm sure you have many clients to see, I won't keep you, go ahead and take this one home, I'll wait.'

Escort! Satoru feels it, you're upset and you have it so, so wrong, god all he can think of is you. Your lip trembles with emotions as you bite it, and the driver waits for the two of you. 'You paid for an entire night, you know' his whisper drives you insane, your eyes lock then, lips so close you wish you could know how they feel. 'We don't have to spend the whole night, don't worry' he sees it then, the Sukuna man stepping out, eyeing you from the back, and Satoru scowls right at him. 'You're riding in the car' you go to protest when Satoru yanks you in the back seat, and you shove at him, turning and crossing your arms as the door shuts. 'You're gonna be rude all night then suddenly want me in the car?' He pauses now, cupping your face, breath dancing on your skin in a cruel tease. 'Let me make it up to you'

Escort! Satoru is soon in your penthouse, it's quiet and tense even then, so much unspoken between you, but Satoru knows one way to explain himself - and that's pleasuring you. He has you turned, ass pressed against him as soon as you look your door, unzipping your dress inch by inch. You barely breathe at the sensation, his fingers dancing down your spine, filling you with so much longing, as it pools at your ankles. He exhales when he sees you naked fully, turning you slowly, cock throbbing when he realizes just how beautiful you are. 'Fucking look at you' his words end you, as does when he's on his knees, worshipping you with ardent kisses up your inner thighs, until he's burying his face against your eager cunt once more. 'More, Satoru, please... more...' you're begging so quickly, as you're grinding on his pretty face, and he's drinking you up, looking at you with those blue eyes.

Escort! Satoru stands and finally you see his thick, long pretty cock spring out, you reach out and stroke it, watching his lashes flutter shut, hear his little whimper, before he's gripped your wrist, pulling out a condom from his pocket, handing it to you now. You rip it open and slip it on nervously, trembling before he is picking you up, cock pressing at your entrance, stretching you and burning with just his pink tip under the latex. 'Ah!' you're already crying out, but when Satoru sinks inside your heat, your slick cunt feeling so goddamn good he can only imagine what it's like raw. He knows then, he's so fucked for anyone, as he kisses down your neck, shoving his cock in so deep, slamming your back against your door as your nails grip him over the jacket he still wears. You're struggling to take him, so full, he's slamming into your cervix, gripping you so bruising - fuck you hope he leaves bruises, unable to get enough of him, as he looks at you now, jerking his hips and watching you shatter.

Escort! Satoru has you delirious, screaming against the door as he continues to fuck into your perfect cunt, you're so wet it's loud, dripping down his cock and drooling onto your tile floor. He's barely even noticed your home, so entranced with your warmth. 'Feel her, she wants to cum, doesn't she?' you just nod weakly, and Satoru presses in fully, as tears fall from your eyes, his eyes so dilated they're black. 'Cum then, pretty, lemme feel you milk him' he presses so deep you feel he's splitting you apart, so thick and huge as he's pulsing inside you, and your vision goes dark, all while he watches, cumming all around his length, and he can barely stand how good it feels, how beautiful you are for him, wishing it was him, and only him.

Escort! Satoru knows every spot on your body, lifting you up high and starting to pound his cock inside you like you're weightless, sweat breaks on your brow which he swipes away, drool falls down your chin and your cunt as he slams deep and rolls his hips again. 'That's it, c'mon sweets, again, you can do it' his encouraging ends you all over again, orgasm washing over you in waves, so many now you've lost count. 'C-cum for me Satoru' you whisper, and he gasps, before shutting his eyes with a moan, burying his head again, sinking his teeth into your shoulder as he cums so hard, so much, wishing he had no barrier, wanting to fill you full of him. He struggles to catch his breath, leaning you on that wall then, as you bury your own face, pressing the cutest kiss on his neck, right above his collar.

Escort! Satoru helps you clean up, careful as he brushes your hair and eyes you in the mirror, wiping you gently between the thighs, you're so weak you can barely move after cumming so much, he's helping you get dressed, fuck he gets you water and takes you to bed even. You're sitting against him as he strokes your hair, and you swallow down the sadness of him leaving after that, clinging your arms around his narrow waist, cheek against his heartbeat. 'Satoru how much for... holding me tonight?' your ask destroys him then, almost to tears at your vulnerability, as you make him question everything in his life. He shakes his head then, and you pause. 'One of your rules?' he nods quietly, unable to speak as your lashes lower, and you whisper an 'oh' before pulling back, leaving his arms empty. 'I'm so embarrassed at myself... please just forget this... I'll get you a ride home, okay?'

Escort! Satoru hates himself when he watches tears threaten to spill in your eyes, as you quickly get his ride ready. 'Don't be embarrassed sweetheart, please...' you pull away when he tries to touch your cheek, so many feelings you feel dizzy now. 'I can't just have sex, I thought I could but... it meant too much. I can't... see you again, I'm sorry.' Your words crush him now, when you're standing at your door, unable to look up at him, and his lips open and close, then open again, his own tears threatening. 'What do you mean-' you cut him off, leaning up and kissing right by the corner of his mouth, he grabs you tightly now, never wanting to let go. 'You were amazing to me, thank you for tonight, I... hope you get everything in the world you want, Satoru' you turn and shut the door, leaning against it and sobbing hoarsely, because you know it then- you're in love with him - with a man that sees you as a job. Hopeless, for the first time in your life feeling that way, it seems cruel.

Escort! Satoru gets another ridiculous amount of money with your tag as an 'apology' and scowls when he gets home, throwing his phone across the room, stumbling to his bathroom as he yanks off his tie. He sees your lipstick imprinted on his collar in his reflection, before yanking the dress shirt off, struggling to forget you somehow. But you're in his mind, in his heart, in his fucking dreams that night- why couldn't he have held you? Why couldn't he have kissed you, told you how he felt? He calls you several times, but you don't answer a single one, driving him to the point of insanity, but you're too scared, you've already fallen so far, and you're not sure if you can ever stand to see him again and have any hope of moving on.

Escort! Satoru tries to live his life again, and you try to live yours, but it's just... different now. His endless clients and your loneliness, constantly aching to reach out, but now you know better, you know you fell in love when you were never supposed to. Three months later he sees you for the first time, you're in line at the coffee shop by his place, and his breath catches when he sees the sunlight hit your face, you falter as you see him, giving him a small smile before turning away and walking out. A sad smile that makes him run out after you, shouting your name out on the sidewalk, you pause and turn, he's getting closer, too close, it's too much. 'Yes, Satoru?' your voice is quiet, hollow, the yearning in him makes him want to pick you up right then and there. 'Can I ask you on a... date?' you gasp in shock now, blinking rapidly. 'What?' he sighs, stepping even closer, like magnets pulling him in, he inhales a sweet scent he never thought he would again, murmuring - 'a date, with me, please' eyeing lips he can't wait to brush on his own, waiting for your answer.

I knowww this got angsty OMG - not me tearing up writing this while I'm still super sick UGH lol- dw next/last part will be much cuter lol <3

taglist 1- @shydroid3000 @aducksmokingquack @miya4life @ravenbc @yenayaps @nezukuwu @etsuniiru @ieathairs @kenqki @princess-bblgm @belovedxiao @ninikrumbs @ieathairs @myahfig4 @theelegantpotato @vvaoo @aldebrana @celestep004 @whoisteona @ladyneisa @lililovely78 @gamerhere @wstaley2 @allthesqueaks @slut4donghyuck @maisiefrancesca @yittten @femaholicc @jjknanamin @that-b-word-lol @devastyle @mat-mat-mat @jkslaugh97 @ovela @mxgnolia @rikiswifeyyy @kaayyhunnyy @gojos1wife1 @arabellasolstice @01ve3rz @jud3thedude @firemoonlightfly @vyluvs @artist1936 @kyelikesanime @alygator77 @seternic @qlucoise @mysticranger575 @undermegumisbed

[himbosandhardwear]

Steve is rifling through Eddie's collection of magazines, while he's waiting on Eddie and Wayne to get done fixing the dryer(Wayne's fixing, Eddie's getting in the way it sounds like), when he realizes how insane the assortment is; Heavy Metal, Car and Driver, Rolling Stone, National Geographic, OMNI, MAD, even a copy of Good Housekeeping. It's all so Eddie though, to have so many varying interests. He's a little jealous, if he's being honest with himself.

"You have a lot of stuff," he comments when Eddie comes back, closing the copy of Rolling Stone.

"Oh, yeah, sorry, let me just..." He starts kicking a pile of clothes under the bed.

Steve huffs a laugh. "No, I meant you have a lot of interests." He waves the magazine. "Hobbies and stuff."

Eddie nods, continues to shove piles of stuff under the bed anyway. "I guess, yeah. I tend to jump from thing to thing though. Last night it was painting miniatures, tonight it could be writing a song. I don't really get a say in which one. Oh, nice, I've been looking for this," he says, holding up a random T-shirt.

He watches Eddie get distracted by the new discovery and leave the rest of the pile where it's at, smiling to himself as Eddie goes on a tangent about merch vendors at concerts being the real enemy of the people.

"How do you know what you like?" Steve inadvertently blurts out during a gap in Eddie's tale.

He turns toward Steve. "What do you mean?"

What does he mean? "I guess... It's just, I like cars and sports and girls. That's, like, kind of it. And since I started being friends with Henderson and Robin and you I've figured out that's, like, the most basic shit a guy could be into. Level One Dude Interests. So, I guess I just want to know how you find other things? And how will I know if I'm interested?"

"Hmm." He frowns softly. "I've never had to think about it before. I kinda just...fall into things. I like it or I don't."

"Okay, but what's it feel like?"

Eddie puts the shirt down, forgotten again in a moment, and sits. "What does it feel like when you think about cars and sports and girls?"

Steve really thinks about it. Nothing is as consuming as when he was younger, but he does remember a vague sense of excitement, a feeling of connection with the people he surrounded himself with, who shared his interests. But he hasn't felt that in a while. Maybe he wasn't as into those things as he thought, was only into the connection.

"You're having very deep thoughts over there," Eddie points out with a grin.

"Shut up." He grins back. "I think maybe I don't actually know what it feels like to like something because I like it, not just because everyone else likes it. You know what I mean?"

"Well, yes but no." He waves both hands to indicate his person and also the chaos of the room around them.

"See? This is why I'm asking you. If anyone can help me figure out what I like it's you."

Eddie slaps both hands together and rubs. "A project! Excellent idea!"

Wasn't his idea but sure.

"First we have to get you exposure to new things. Movies, TV, music, culture. Then we'll rate how you feel about each demographic. Your music taste is already improving so that's good. Movies, I'm thinking 12 Angry Men to start. Food? Authentic Mexican. We're gonna get you excited about shit!" He seems excited enough for the both of them, which is great. "Excitement is key! You want enthusiasm, yearning even. Your interests should consume your every waking thought. When I'm consuming a new hobby, I'm focused like a shark, I'm obsessed. I go to bed thinking about it and wake up thinking about it. Excited to get back to whatever it is. I wanna talk about it, share it with other people. Complete and total immersion. You wanna marry that interest. You know what I mean?"

Steve blinks at him, stunned into silence. Eddie's just described how Steve feels about him...

Oh.

Oh.

[cinnasite]

nerd gone viral ( ˶°ㅁ°) !!

꩜ pairing: nerd!armin arlert x female reader

꩜ warnings: explicit content, language

꩜ word count: 3.7k

꩜ synopsis: a harmless campus interview turns your best friend into an overnight internet sensation—and suddenly, every thirsty TikTok comment feels like it’s whispering your secret.

☆ art cred: @/juvianism on instagram :3

You nearly spill your coffee all over your Political Theory textbook when you unlock your phone. Another two hundred comments on that TikTok. You know you shouldn't check—you probably watched it about a million times yesterday alone—but your fingers move before your brain can scream at you to stop.

@/bookslvt01: ok but the way he talks about virginia woolf??? NEED HIM CARNALLY @/colossalthighs: i’d let him annotate my entire body fr @/arlertmeout: he looks like he apologises before choking you

You bite your lip, half-entertained and half-horrified, scrolling through the endless comments under what was supposed to be an innocent campus interview. The video has 2.3 million views now, completely insane for something filmed outside the modest main library—the same one you find yourself in at the moment—on a random Tuesday.

"Ugh, don’t tell me. You're watching it again, aren't you?"

Your head snaps up comically quick, caught red-handed, to find Sasha sliding into the seat across from you at your usual table, eyeing your phone screen with knowing amusement. 

"What? No."

"You are! You have that weird, glazed look in your eyes. The same one you get when Professor Ackerman extends the deadline for our research papers." Sasha unwraps what appears to be her third sandwich of the day. You don't mention how it’s only twelve in the afternoon. "You know you could just talk to him about it, right? He's literally one of your best friends."

"And say what exactly?" you finally close the godforsaken app, trying to ignore how your screen time report is definitely going to be embarrassing this week. "Hey Armin, I've watched your viral video more times than I can remember and I'm having very inappropriate thoughts about your tongue piercing that I absolutely shouldn't be having about my friend?"

Sasha snickers, a piece of lettuce tumbling to the table from her mouth. "Well, when you put it like that... actually, yes. One hundred percent that."

"Sasha, I can't just—" you frown in frustration, inhaling deeply. "It's complicated."

"How is it complicated? You've had a crush on him since freshman year."

"That was different. That was before we became friends. Before I knew him." You lean back in your chair, staring at the ceiling as fond memories overwhelm you. "Back then he was just this cute, nerdy guy in my intro psych class who got excited about statistical analysis and always smelled like that vanilla body wash I love. I used to sit behind him just to watch him get all animated during discussions about cognitive behavioural theory, you know?"

Sasha merely rolls her eyes. "Jesus, and you call me demented. Well, what about now?"

"Now? Now, he's Armin. He's my friend who stays up until 3 A.M. to help me with my assignments, who brings me soup when I'm sick, who texts me the dumbest memes about historical figures," you slump forward, close to pouting. "He's the guy who spent six hours teaching me how to play that MMO he's obsessed with just because I mentioned being bored over winter break. He's..."

"He's the guy you're infatuated with," Sasha supplies helpfully.

"I'm not," you start to protest, then wisely opt to give up instead. "Okay, maybe. But that's exactly the problem. I can't risk blowing up our friendship just because some stupid interview made me realise I want to climb him like a tree."

"A tree with a tongue piercing," Sasha adds with a cheeky grin.

"Fuck’s sake, don't remind me," you let your head rest against the table. "Do you know how many times I've replayed that two-second clip where he licks his lips? It's pathetic."

"It's not pathetic, it's kind of sweet. There's a difference." Sasha takes another bite of her sandwich, her eyes evidently lighting up. "Besides, you don't know that he doesn't feel the same way. Have you seen how he looks at you during our study sessions? Boy's got it bad."

"He looks at me like a friend, Sasha. Because that's what we are."

"Believe me, friends don't look at friends the way he looked at you last Friday when you were explaining your thesis argument. I thought he was going to combust from sexual tension."

Before you can blatantly disagree, you hear an all too familiar voice behind you.

"Sexual tension about what now?"

Your stomach drops directly through the floor. You turn around carefully, and there he is—Armin Arlert, campus's newest digital sensation, standing there with that signature bemused expression he gets when he catches you and Sasha gossiping. His blonde hair is mussed like he's been running his hands through it, and he's wearing that adorable blue sweater that brings out his eyes deliciously.

"Oh, um..." You scramble for an explanation, panicking on the inside. "We were just talking about... about..."

"About how Professor Ackerman's lectures are basically academic foreplay," Sasha jumps in smoothly. "All that tension and buildup with no satisfying conclusion. I mean, hello?"

Armin laughs, the sound warm and comforting. "That's fascinatingly accurate, I’ll admit." He shifts his weight, and you only then notice he's carrying his laptop bag and what seems to be a bag of takeout. "Mind if I join you? I brought Thai food and figured you might be hungry since you've been here since—," he checks his phone, "—9 A.M., according to the text you sent complaining about how it’s criminal that the library opens so early on weekends."

Your heart does a little flip at his consideration. "You didn't have to do that."

"I wanted to." He slides into the chair next to you, close enough that you can smell his cologne—a rich blend of velvety caramel and toasted cinnamon that positively makes you want to lick him all over. 

Stop. None of that, you horny bastard.

"Besides, I figured you might want to hear about the latest developments in my accidental internet fame."

Sasha perks up at once. "Hell, yeah. Have you been recognised on campus yet?"

"Five times yesterday," Armin appears to lament, pulling containers out of the bag. "Including once in the bathroom, which was... awkward, to say the least." He hands you your usual order without asking what you want. "But the weirdest part is definitely the DMs."

"DMs?" you pipe up, failing to ignore how domestic this feels what with him knowing exactly what you like. Typical, precious Armin.

"You have no idea," he opens his laptop and turns it toward you two with a nervous twitch. "I've gotten marriage proposals, offers to 'show me a good time,' and at least a hundred messages asking about my tongue piercing specifically."

Your face burns as you push away the thought that you've been mentally composing similar messages. "That's... wow."

"The worst part is, most of them are asking if I'd be interested in demonstrating its uses." He fidgets with his glasses, coming across as embarrassed but also endearing. "I had no idea that thing would cause such a reaction."

"Well, it is pretty noticeable," Sasha remarks with a meaningful peek at you. "Very... attention-grabbing."

"I guess." Armin glances at you pointedly. "What do you think? You've seen the video, right?"

The question is innocent enough, but something in his tone makes you look at him more carefully. There's an out-of-the-ordinary implication that you can't quite put your finger on. "Uh... yeah, I've seen it," you manage to croak out. Terrific. Could you get any stiffer?

"And?"

"And what?"

"What did you think?"

You stare at him blankly, trying to figure out if this is a normal friend question or if you’re incorrectly perceiving the foreign edge of curiosity behind it. "I thought... I mean, your book recommendations were really good. Very passionate."

"Passionate," he repeats, the fleeting flash of understanding across his face confirming your earlier weariness. "That's interesting."

Sasha's phone cuts through the uneasiness with its incessant buzzing, and she scans it with obviously fake surprise. "Oh no, would you look at that. I have to go... meet... someone... about... a... very real thing... I have." She begins gathering her stuff with awfully suspicious speed. "You two have fun talking about books. And passion. And tongue piercings."

"Huh? Wait. Sasha—" you squeak out, but she's already dashing out of the private study room you had booked for the both of you until late afternoon (traitor). Which leaves you alone with Armin, who's scrutinising you with an expression you can't quite read.

"Alright," he speaks after a moment, closing his laptop and leaning back in his chair. "Want to tell me what you actually thought about the video?"

"I already told you."

"No, you gave me the safe answer." He tilts his head slightly, studying you with purpose. "Come on, we've been friends for two years. I know when you're holding back."

You hastily shove some noodles in your mouth, avoiding his gaze. "I'm not holding back."

"Really? Because Sasha seemed to think you had some important opinions about it."

You make a mental note to start drafting your plan for the girl’s well-deserved comeuppance. "Sasha talks too much."

"She does," Armin agrees. "But she's usually right about things. Especially when it comes to you."

The rarely there confidence in his tone makes you look up and, when you meet his gaze, the intensity catches you off guard. "What do you want me to say?"

"Did you know," he continues conversationally, "that TikTok shows you analytics about who's viewed your videos?"

Almost instantly, your heart stops. "What?"

"Mhm. Very detailed analytics. Including multiple views from the same account." His lips quirk up in a small smile. "Want to guess how many times your account shows up in my viewer list?"

You feel heat creeping up your neck. "I don't know what you're talking about." You briefly consider denying reality, blaming a technical issue, or claiming a glitch in the matrix—but none of it sticks.

"Seventy-seven times," he announces, the metaphorical checkmate hitting you straight in the chest. "As of this morning."

Oh god. Oh god, oh god, oh god. He knows. "I can explain—"

"Can you?" He angles himself forward, resting his elbows on the table. "Because I've been trying to figure out why my very good friend has watched a boring thirty-second video of me talking about books seventy-seven times."

You want to run away, mouth opening and closing like a fish. "I... the algorithm is weird sometimes?"

Armin chuckles, low and warm, absent of any malice. "Try again."

"I was checking to see if the view count was going up?"

"Nope."

You're quiet for a long moment, trying to figure out how to get out of this without completely humiliating yourself. You don't suppose it's too late to jump out of a window? Ultimately, you sigh in defeat. "Okay, fine. Maybe I watched it a few times."

"A few?"

You narrow your eyes, crossing your arms in defiance at the unsolicited endless interrogation. "More than a few."

"How many more?"

You want to strangle him, and not in the sexy way. "You’re being annoying."

"Come on." His voice has dropped slightly lower, and there's something almost akin to teasing in it. "I told you about the marriage proposals. Fair's fair."

You mutter a profanity under your breath, groaning. "Fine. I watched it a lot. Happy?"

"No. We’re getting there, though. Why?"

"Why what?"

Armin’s glee sharpens into something ravenous, a flicker of desperation lurking beneath his carefree demeanour—like he’s itching for you to say exactly what he needs. "Why did you watch it seventy-seven times?"

Your lungs feel too tight, too exposed. "Because..."

"Because?"

"Because you looked really good, okay?" The words come out in a rush. "Because watching you talk about literally anything is incredibly attractive, and because that frustrating part where your tongue piercing shows has been tormenting me ever since the video came out."

The silence that follows is eerily deafening. Armin simply stares at you, and you wish the ground would swallow you whole.

"Shit," you grumble, burying your face in your hands. "I'm sorry. That was completely out of line. I know we're friends and I shouldn't have—"

"Hey. Look at me."

The way he asks convinces you to peep through your fingers, reluctant but unable to look away. His expression is attentive and focused—definitely not one of disgust.

"You think I'm attractive?" he questions softly.

"I... yes?"

He blinks, his usual calm shattered by the raw vulnerability in your voice. His fingers tremble, revealing the fierce hope inside that there’s a potential chance that someone sees him as more than the sum of his quirks.  "Even though I'm just a loser who gets excited about obscure paranormal documentaries and spends too much time playing video games?"

"Especially because of that," you admit, having never been more sure of yourself.

His answering smile is slow and devastating. "Good to know."

"Good to know?"

He hums, reaching across the table, and gently pulls your hands away from your face. "I've been wondering if you'd ever see me as more than just your friend who helps you with your homework."

Your brain, without a doubt, malfunctions. "What?"

"Did you really think I started bringing you food and staying up late just because I'm a good friend?"

The words disarm you. You’re trapped between incredulity and the dawning comprehension of what he might be suggesting. "I…"

"And did you think I learned how to play your favourite songs on guitar just because I had time to spare?"

"Y-you said you wanted to practice—"

"And I presume you thought I got this piercing because I was feeling rebellious?"

That stops you short, confusion apparent in the furrow of your brows. "You didn't?"

Armin's grin turns almost predatory. "I got it because I overheard you and Sasha talking about how cool you find them. This was back in October, after you'd been dating that guy with the lip ring."

You feel like a kettle left on the stove too long. "You... what?"

"You said, and I quote, 'There's something about tongue piercings that's beyond exciting.’ Something along the lines of how the person has to be bold enough to get it, but there's the simultaneous insinuation of what they can do with it."

"I’m going to kill myself," you gape at him in horror. "You heard all of that?"

"I was sitting right behind you in the campus coffee shop. You weren’t exactly shy about it." He shifts closer, and you can spot the hint of silver when he speaks, "I made an appointment that very afternoon."

"You got a tongue piercing because of something I said about another guy?"

"I got a tongue piercing because I wanted to be the guy you were talking about."

The confession hangs in the air between you, charged and electric. You stare at him, trying to process this complete change in everything you thought you knew about your friendship. 

"I've been trying to get your attention for months. I was starting to think I'd have to do something drastic."

In spite of being made to face terrifying revelation after revelation, you manage to stutter out a breathless laugh. "More drastic than getting a tongue piercing for me?" 

"I was considering learning to play your favourite video game."

You snort despite yourself. "You hate that game."

He shrugs casually, as if the lengths to which he would go for you knew no bounds. "I know. That's how desperate I was getting."

The atmosphere between you feels tense now, full of possibility and two years of unspoken tension. Armin traces your knuckles and the simple touch sends heat shooting up your arm.

"So," you say, trying to stay as composed as you possibly can. "What happens now?"

"Now," he starts, standing up, "you tell me what exactly you were thinking about during those seventy-seven views."

He's close enough that you have to tilt your head back to look at him, and the unwavering want in the blue of his eyes makes your breath catch. "I was thinking..." you trail off, feeling timid with his attention on you.

"You can do it. Use your words for me?" his voice has gotten rougher, huskier, and it sends delightful shivers down your spine.

"I was thinking about what it would feel like."

"What would feel like?"

"Your piercing. When you..." You gesture vaguely, cheeks burning. Armin's hand comes up to cup your face, thumb brushing across your bottom lip. "When I what?"

"When you kiss me," you whisper.

"Just kissing?" The question is loaded with underlying intentions, and you shake your head slowly.

"Tell me what else you were thinking about."

"Armin..."

"Please." The plea is hushed but insistent. "I want to know what's been going through your head."

You swallow, your throat suddenly dry as you let go of the entirety of your self-restraint. "I was thinking about what it would feel like on my body. What it would feel like when you use your mouth on me."

His pupils immediately dilate at your words. "Fuck."

"Is that... is that okay?"

Instead of verbally affirming, he leans down and kisses you. It's gentle at first, tentative, but when you react by fisting your hands in his sweater and pulling him closer, he deepens it. The first brush of his tongue against yours has you gasping, and when you feel the metal of his piercing, it sends intoxicating pleasure shooting through you.

You break apart, breathing heavily, and Armin rests his forehead against yours.

"How was that?" he asks earnestly, voice raspy.

"Good," you breathe. "Really good."

His smile is full of care but there's primal desire behind it. "And the piercing?"

"Want more of it."

He brushes his thumb across your lip again. Truth be told, it’s plain torture. "You know, we're in public right now."

Every wall you built is crumbling under the weight of him, and all you can do is let it. "I know."

"Anyone could walk by and see us."

"I know."

"And you don't care?"

You drag your hand up his thigh, stopping just shy of where he clearly wants it, "Not even a little bit."

He kisses you again, harder this time, and you can't help the soft moan that escapes when his tongue meets yours in another dance of display. The sound seems to flip a switch in him, because his hands are tangling in your hair and he's pressing you back against your chair.

"God, you have no idea how long I've wanted to do this," he murmurs against your lips.

"Tell me ‘Min."

"Since freshman year. Since that first day in psych class when you argued with Professor Smith about the ethics of behavioural modification."

You draw away just barely, shaking under the intimacy of his declaration. "That long?"

"That long." He doesn’t think twice before trailing his teeth along your jaw, and when the metal of his piercing digs into your flushed skin, you whimper needily. 

"You were so assertive, so brilliant. I was completely and utterly gone."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"Because you were dating that business major asshole, and then when you broke up, we became friends,” he hesitantly halts his ministrations to flutter his eyelashes at you, “I-I didn't want to ruin it." 

Good heavens, you didn’t stand a chance from the beginning.

"But then you kept looking at me like... like you wanted me too, and I started hoping..."

"I did want you. I do want you." The admission comes out whinier than intended, but you can’t bring yourself to be bothered at this point. "So much."

His hands tighten in your hair. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

You’re unaware of how many minutes pass as you lose yourself in the sensation of his mouth on yours, and the way he tastes like mint and something uniquely him. You dig your nails lightly into his sides, claiming him in an act of fervent possession. His breaths mingle with yours and the world outside your tangled bodies fades until there’s nothing but lust burning between you. By the end of it, your chests rise and fall in tandem.

"We should probably get out of here," he mumbles, peeking around the library.

Craving Armin has left you dazed, vision glassy as you attempt to make sense of your surroundings. "Right. Um, your place or mine?"

He pecks your nose, full of affection, tenderly guiding you. "Mine. My roommate's gone for the weekend."

You start gathering your things with shaky hands, hyperaware of the way Armin is observing you. When you bend over to pick up your bag, you hear his sharp intake of breath.

"Something wrong?" you ask innocently.

"N-nothing," he mutters, skittishly pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

The walk to his dorm feels like it takes forever, full of stolen glances and the kind of anticipation that makes your skin feel too tight. When you reach his room, he fumbles with his keys for a moment—so fucking cute—before getting the door open.

You haven’t had a lot of time this semester to crash at his dorm—neat and organised, with anime posters on the walls and stacks of books and manga everywhere. But you barely have time to take it in before he's pressing you against the closed door, urgency lacing his actions.

This time, there's nothing apprehensive about it. His hands are everywhere—your waist, your back, squeezing your ass—and when you arch against him, he makes a low sound of approval.

"You taste so good," he shudders against you. "Everything I’ve imagined and so much more."

"You imagined this?"

"Every night for two years." His mouth moves to your neck, nibbling along your throat. "What you'd look like, what you'd sound like when I made you come."

The words send heat pooling low in your belly, prompting you to press your thighs together instinctively. "Fuck, don’t say shit like that.”

"Why not? I’ve been longing for you. All of you," he whispers, pulling back to look at you with dark, lidded eyes. "You’re not getting away until I’ve had my fill."

It would be an understatement to say that you hadn’t foreseen this when you woke up today. That you'd be spending hours with your legs over Armin's shoulders, forgetting your own name; the compassionate, stammering genius the internet drooled over. Too bad he’s not on the market. It would be a treat if his fans could see him like this—flushed and breathless, fingers gripping your hips like he’d die without you. Armin Arlert, golden boy of TikTok, practically begging to let him ruin you.

You grow dizzy at the promise in his voice. "Please."

He lets his hand trail lower, indecently tranquil, and just as you think he’ll do something reckless—he pauses, smirking wickedly.

"Want to find out what this piercing really feels like when I eat you out?"

[markluvrrr]

mark one shot

☆ starring. mark lee x fem! reader

☆ summary. Mark was having trouble with composing a song for his upcoming solo album. But then it clicked, he was missing something. You.

☆ warnings. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT oral sex (fem receiving) fingering, recording sex, unprotected sex (don't do this), creampie, mark is sexy asf

☆ wc: 1.5k (not proofread. i wrote this in one sitting oops)

ᯓ Mark was hard at work these past few weeks, in between working on his solo album and promoting for NCT Dream, he almost had no time for you.

But nowadays, majority of the time he was in the studio, you were too. You were becoming clingy, but not unbearingly clingy. You just needed to be in the same presence as Mark, or you'd go insane.

You watched as Mark played with a few keys on his keyboard, adding and deleting stuff on the screen. He was producing one of the songs for his album all on his own, and he was having trouble.

"Babe, you should take a break." You call out, sitting up on the couch that was across the room from the desk that had all of the equipment needed to make music.

Mark sighs, taking his headphones off and pinching the bridge of his nose. "I just can't figure out what's missing..."

You hum, understanding how stressful this was for him. He needed to complete the album before the deadline that was fast approaching. "You will Mark, you always do."

He smiles at that, standing from his chair, stretching before falling onto the couch next to you, his head landing in your lap. You play with his hair as he stares at the ceiling, deep in thought. The sound of his breathing steadied your own.

You watched as a light bulb turned on in his brain, and he sits up with a gasp. "I know!"

"What?" You ask, almost as excited as him.

"Uh, I'll need to get your opinion first," Mark starts and you urge him to continue. He hesitates for a moment before finally stating, "I need your moans in the song."

Your eyes widen, almost choking on your own spit. "Woah, lets unpack that..."

"No way your fans would be chill with that, for one. Same with your company, babe." You explained, and Mark listened intently before smirking as you finished.

"It'll be fine, they'll be super quiet in the song, like barely there. I could get away with it. If my fans notice, then they notice." Mark reasons and you sigh in defeat.

"I'm fine with it if you are sure." You smile, kind of excited to do this.

Mark's hand is now on your thigh, looking at you teasingly. "How about we do it now?"

You hadn't been intimate in a while because of Mark's packed schedule. You bit your lip, fuck, you were pent up from all these weeks without him. "God, please."

Mark's hand leaves your thigh and you watch as he reaches over to the microphone he had set up next to the computer, bringing it a little closer and pressing record. "I'll ask one more time, are you sure you're okay with this?" He asks as he settles back next to you.

You nod, smiling lovingly. "Yeah I am, Mark."

His hands trails up your thighs, leaning in and his lips are finally on yours, determined and needy. You bit his lip in desperation, and he opens his mouth enough where you can slip your tongue.

Your hands were bunched on his t-shirt and his hands were under your skirt, dancing on your skin and setting it aflame. When you pull back for air, Mark keeps eye contact as he pulls your panties to the side, his cold fingers brushing your clit making you whine.

"Mark." You whisper breathlessly, your hands now on the hem of his shirt, and he lets you take it off in one swift motion. "Pretty boy."

He blushes at this as he takes your shirt off too, leaving you in your bra. You decide to push your own skirt down, impatience taking over you. "Please, I need you."

"I know baby, just wait." He murmurs, one hand absentmindedly rubbing your inner thigh as the other pets your hair. Then, finally, his hand leaves your thigh and touches you where you craved Mark most.

It started off as light, slow circles on your clit. "You're so wet, baby." He smirks, as two of his fingers now slide up and down your folds, before he dips them into your entrance. "Mmm, more." You moan.

He pushes them inside to the knuckle and starts curling them right where you liked it most. "Fuck, Mark!"

You were soon filled with disappointment when he pulled his fingers out of you. You watched as Mark slid off the couch and sunk onto his knees, pulling your panties down with him, settling his head in your thighs.

You felt his breath tickle your folds before he dives in, tongue lapping at you like a dog in heat. Your hands fly to Mark's hair in no time, turning you into nothing but a whimpering mess.

His tongue sucked on your clit as his fingers curled into you again, hitting your g-spot at every angle. "Ah, fffuck, Mark.." You slurred, pulling his hair harshly, making him groan against you.

Mark could feel your walls clenching his fingers as his mouth does wonders on your clit, and you could feel the tightness in your stomach about to snap. "Mark, I'm gonna..."

"Cum for me, baby girl." He rasps against your heat and one last prod at your g-spot had you seeing stars, moaning loudly as you came undone.

Mark doesn't stop, still devouring you while you shook above him. "Shit, stop, 's too much!" You whimpered.

You had to pull his head back for him to stop, and Mark looks up at you with a dazed grin, his mouth covered in your juices. he looked so beautiful like this.

He licked his fingers clean of your juices, never breaking eye contact, before raising from his spot on the floor. You wasted no time in unbuckling his belt, pulling his boxers down along with his pants as fast as possible.

"I need you inside of me right now." You said desperately, and Mark flipped you over on the couch so that you were facing the wall, back arched, and he was standing behind you.

Mark's hands found purchase on your ass first, giving it a playful smack which made you whimper embarrassingly loud.

Looking back, you watched as Mark's other hand pumped his hardened cock slowly, tip leaking precum, as he finally places it between your folds, rubbing it up and down teasingly.

"Mark, please." You whined, and Mark just chuckled. "So impatient, baby. I'll fuck you real good, promise."

You silently screamed as Mark enters you for the first time in a while, his big cock stretching you painfully as he slowly bottoms out. Soon, the pain fades away. "Can I move?" He whispers, his hand on the small of your back, soothingly rubbing it as he waits.

"Yes." You sigh out as Mark pulls out of you before slamming right back in, making you cry out. He soon finds a good pace that had you gripping the couch and moaning loudly.

"Such a tight pussy, made for me." Mark whispers in your ear, voice raspy, as he leans over you, kissing your neck and leaving marks you were gonna have to cover up before you left the studio. Thank god this place was sound proof and had no cameras.

"Harder," You whined. Mark obliges, and soon your legs were shaking. He thrusts deep inside, you swore you could see the outline of his cock if you looked down. "Oh, fuck, right there!"

Mark was getting close now too, his soft groans turning into desperate moans and whimpers. It was always music to your ears whenever he made those noises. "Cum in me, baby."

"Fuck, you sure?" Mark groans, thrusts getting sloppy as his hand slides down your chest to your clit, applying pressure there. "Please." You moan, and Mark holds his own orgasm off until you cum again.

After a few more moments, the pressure on your clit got too much and your legs were shaking uncontrollably, Mark's hands digging into your hips to ground you as you screamed his name.

"That's it baby, let go for me. You're so beautiful." Mark praises as he finally thrusts into you one last time before releasing inside you.

Your pants filled the room, and Mark pulls out of you before flipping you over. He watches as his cum drips out of your folds and groans at the sight. "Such a good girl."

Mark pulls his clothes back on quickly before grabbing tissues, wetting them with the water bottle on his desk and cleaning you up. He kisses your thighs tenderly while he does.

"I love you, Mark." You murmur as your fingers cascade through his hair. He smiles up at you with those eyes that made you melt. "I love you too."

After you got dressed and calmed down, you and Mark decided to review the audio. Even you found your own moans sexy as you listened.

When Mark added them into the song the next day, you realised he was right. The song did need them, making it so much more seducing like he was trying to go for.

You decided you'd help him out with his music more often after that.

© markluvrrr

[valleydolli]

౨ৎ The Wolf of Wall Street ౨ৎ

Summary: You have it all. Birkins, Louboutins, Chanel, you name it, you’ve got it! You're probably the luckiest girl in the world. You fly first class, have a personal driver, a personal chef, a private jet. There isn't anything in this world that you don't have. All thanks to your crook husband. The Wolf of Wall Street.

CW: Minors DNI, Smut, Reader and Sukuna refer to themselves as “Daddy and Mommy” (It’s in the film.) Obviously this fic is inspired by the wolf of wall street movie!

WC:3.4k

Authors Note: erm errr hi, i hope i did well for the ones that were excited for this but if i didn’t you can slap me. please.

It’s as if the lights in the club only shone upon you once you walked in: your Hervé Legér dress and your Louboutins to match. You’re drop-dead gorgeous. A renowned supermodel. Everyone wants to either be you or be with you. 

No in between. 

You’ve arrived at the club hosting your after-party for one of your modelling shows, and of course, all eyes are on you. You were the star of the show. The muse. From across the room, your friend notices a particular man staring holes into you. “Oh my God, look up there. Don’t be obvious,” she points out. “He wants you, mhm. You think he’ll come over?” She questions. 

You flip your hair, looking over at where she’s pointing to and tilt your head in confusion. “Who is he?” You ask, sipping your drink, staring back at him. 

Your friend's head nearly snaps off her neck. “You don't know him? Sukuna? Sukuna Ryomen?” Your friend is practically frantic. You roll your eyes at her. “Well, obviously, if I did, I would overreact just as much as you.”

“He’s like a reallly stinkin’ rich playboy,” she slurs. He’s… okay— No, you’re lying to yourself, this guy is insanely attractive, holy shi– oh my god, he’s walking over. “He’s walking over!” Your friend yells, causing you to choke slightly on your drink. You turn your back on him as if you didn’t see him make it clear to you that he was making his way to you. 

You let the bartender know you need another shot, and as you go to pay for it, a large hand with a black card stuffed between his fingers creeps its way in before you. You turn to see this “Sukuna Ryōmen” up close and personal. He really is a sight for sore eyes. You fully turn your body facing this handsome playboy, waiting for him to start the conversation. 

“You are gorgeous,” Sukuna says as he takes your manicured hand and places a kiss on top of it. A grin forms on your glossy lips.

“You wanna tell me something I don’t know?” He chuckles. He likes your confidence. He leans into your ear and whispers to you. “I have a Maserati waiting outside. How about I take you out for a ride, hmm?” 

“I think I like that idea.” 

You really liked that idea. 

“Mmm fuck,�� you whimper into Sukunas ear as you ride him in said Maserati. Your arms are wrapped around his neck as you take his 9 inch dick in and out of your pussy. You’ve been riding him for an hour now, and it is very clear that you're already addicted. 

“You’re doing so good, baby, hmm? You have me, I'm all yours.” He moans while gripping your waist. It’s as if you’re both scared the other is going to slip away. 

“Ride me faster, gorgeous.” You oblige instantly, quicken your pace. Your thighs are burning so good. You don’t want to stop. “P-please S’kuna. It’s so go— od. It’s so good,” you sob. His dick is hitting all the right places, constantly. 

You feel your stomach tighten. You’re going to cum for the third—no fourth time? You really can’t remember.

There’s already a thick messy ring of your cum around the base of him from the other nth amount of times the two of you came. He’s definitely going to need to get his slacks dry cleaned after this.

“I’m cumming.” You say dazedly. 

“Look at me. Look at me when you cum.” Sukuna demands, as he grabs your cheeks, forcing you to stare at him. You’re a mess but you make it look so fucking sexy. 

He starts to plough his hips into you. Roughly. The sound of your ass slapping onto his thick thighs was like a symphony. 

“Yeahhhh, cum with me baby, with me, just me.” He begs. And you deliver, you both cum, groaning into each other's mouths and looking into each other’s eyes. 

Shit. 

“Are you free tomorrow?” He asks you as he catches his breath. 

“Mhm, why?”

“I wanna take you out. Properly.”

He places wet kisses on your chest while waiting for you to say yes. He knows you’ll say yes, so there isn’t a worry in his mind. 

“Okay, you can take me on a date. But I have extremely high expectations, Sukuna.”

“I’d expect nothing less from you. You deserve it.”

—

Sukuna takes you to a Michelin-star restaurant the very next day. Paparazzi outside snapping pictures of you opening the Hermes bag he bought you, after only meeting you twice.

He’s already hooked.

It was all over the magazines within the week. You were becoming some sort of it couple. He took you to parties, you were in his “business meetings,” you were his arm candy, and he was… your ATM. Your ATM, which you were slowly falling for. Though you were starting to wonder how much money your ATM Sukuna had. He was reckless with his money. Not a care in the world. As if it were an endless stream of money. He can’t just be some playboy leeching off his daddy’s money, no way. 

After three months of the two of you dating, he takes you to the South of France, proposing to you. It was a dream. The hot sun gleaming on your skin. A small choir singing ‘Young and Beautiful’ while you walk towards him, waiting for you with a gorgeous rock made specifically for you. The perfect cut, the perfect size. He really thought about this.

About you. 

The wedding was perfect too, he spent months planning it to your standard of course. It was something out of a fairytale. He honestly didn’t care about what he wanted. Just what you, his princess, his duchess, wanted. He was your fairy Godfather. Your prince charming. Your duke. For better or for worse. In sickness and in health. Till death do you part.

—

“Keep your eyes shut baby don’t be nosey.”

Sukuna is about to show you your wedding present… well one of your many wedding presents. You carefully tread in your wedge heels, trusting in your newly wedded husband to guide you to whatever other present he has bought for you. You can hear seagulls flying around you. The smell of the salty sea. What the fuck did he get you? The damn beach?

“Okay… are you ready?”

“Yes, oh my god, you’re edging the fuck out of me right now Kuna.” You’re gently hopping up and down waiting for him to take his hands away from your eyes.

He can feel the apples of your cheeks from how giddy you are. He will die spending his money on you.

Gladly.

“Imma do a count down.”

“Three…”

“Two…”

“One…” He quickly removes his hands from your eyes, waiting for your reaction. You’re speechless. You take many looks between Sukuna and the fucking yacht sitting in front of you right now. With your name on it?!

“Are you for real…?”

“You got me a… fucking yacht? With my name on it?! Oh my God!” You jump into Sukuna’s arms, leaving lipstick marks all over his face.

“Come on, duchess. Let me show you around.”

You cruised the mediterranean sea for two weeks before coming back to your new home, on the upper east side.

—

It took a while for Sukuna to admit to you where his money was really coming from. Honestly, he was shocked you didn’t know who he was. Everyone knew who he was. 

“So, what did you think I did for a living?” 

“My friend said you were some rich playboy. Thought it was all daddy’s money to be honest,” You admit. 

“Da-Daddy’s money?! Are you kidding me? I have an amazing business going!”

“Amazing business my ass, Kuna you’re a crook.”

“No, baby, stop calling me a crook. You don’t get it.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, should I call you a scammer? A con artist? a fucking swindler?!” 

Sukuna grabs onto your face, pursing your lips. “I work as a businessman, just say… I’m a businessman. Okay?” 

“You’re a businessman.”

“Good girl!” He places a sloppy kiss on your lips. “Mmphh get off!”

You obviously weren’t the happiest lady finding out about your husband’s true profession, but once he handed you a Himalaya Birkin bag, you couldn’t give a single fuck, what your husband’s job was. 

He was a crook, and you didn’t mind one bit. 

You have it all. Birkins, Louboutins, Chanel, you name it, you’ve got it! You're probably the luckiest girl in the world. You fly first class, have a personal driver, a personal chef, a private jet. There isn't anything in this world that you don't have.

All thanks to your crook husband.

The Wolf of Wall Street.

Sukuna Ryōmen. 

—

It’s been three years since you married Sukuna. You now have the most beautiful, sweetest little girl. Your life is perfect. Up until the past few weeks… Sukuna has been… misbehaving. So much so that the FBI has been on his ass. And he’s acting as if he’s got nothing to worry about. He has everything to worry about. You can’t lose this life of luxury, no way. Yes, the life you had before was luxurious, but it’s nowhere near on par with what you have now. Like, who’s going to hire a crook's wife, this shit cannot go public.

You’re holding a cold glass of water in your hands. Your husband is sleeping peacefully in your shared bed. Snoring like a damn pig.

Fucking imbecile. 

You chuck the cold water in his face. He instantly wakes up, acting as if he’s being drowned. Shooting up, see you standing at his side with a not-so-happy expression. 

“Baby, what the fuck?!” He yells, “What was that for?!”

“Sukuna, I have had it up to here with you. I love you, I do,  but I really love the flow of money we have, and if we lose it, and you go to prison, you’ll lose me too, I’m sorry. I can’t be a prison wife, look at me!”

“Oh, so you’re using me for money? I should have known I couldn’t trust you! All you do is swipe my fucking black card, for shoes and clothes you don’t fucking need.”

“TRUST? SUKUNA, YOU DIDN'T TELL ME YOU WERE A DAMN CROOK UNTIL A YEAR INTO OUR DAMN MARRIAGE! AND I DO FUCKING NEED THEM THANK YOU!”

“YOU SHOULD HAVE KNOWN, BUT YOU'RE TOO STUPID TO THINK ON YOUR OWN. A DUMB MODEL WITH NO DAMN BRAIN!”

You gasp dramatically, throwing the rest of the water at him, walking out of your room, leaving him to scream at nothing. 

“YOU KNOW BABY, YOU'VE REALLY GOT ANGER ISSUES, MAYBE YOU SHOULD GO TO THERAPY AND WORK ON THAT YOU FUCKING PSYCHOPATH.”

You storm back to him with another full glass of water ready to be poured. You’re not playing around, so he better watch his mouth. And choose his next few words carefully.

“FUCK YOU!”

“Don't you dare, throw that at me. Don’t you fucking dare. Come here, give me a kiss, sugar, you look so beautiful right now.” He puckers his lips, hoping that you’ll do the same. 

“Apologise. NOW.”

He wipes his hands across his face, stretching the skin around his eyes, “Okay, okay, okay, baby, I’m sorry. I am sorry.” He throws his hands up in the air, surrendering to you. “It’s been tough, I’ll be honest, but I’m fixing it. I promise you I’m working on it and it’s under control. So, I don’t need a woman that doesn’t know anything about business, IN MY GODDAMN EAR COMPLAINING.”

Yes, the rest of the water was thrown at your husband, including a broken glass, scattered across the floor. You haven’t slept in the same bed as him since. Of course, he’s been sleeping on the sofa. Do you have guest bedrooms? Yes, plenty, but why the fuck would you let him sleep in them. He tried to, but not only did you lock the doors, you hid all the duvets from him, leaving a little blanket for him in the living room.

He’s lucky it’s the summer right now.

He tries to start conversations with you, but it never really works unless he uses your daughter as a scapegoat.

“Look, it's Mommy. Say hi, mommy.” Sukuna tells your baby girl, picking up her hand, waving it for her. He’s walking into your dressing room holding your baby. You see her tiny hands make grabbing gestures through the mirror, telling you she wants you to carry her. You take her from Sukuna’s arms, kissing her cheek, causing the baby girl to show her gummy smile. While Sukuna is awkwardly standing next to the two of you. 

“What?” You bluntly ask. 

“Can daddy get a kiss too?”

You look him up and down before walking to your daughter's room to place her in her crib. Purposely swaying your hips from side to side, with your pathetic husband trailing behind you, of course. 

“Please?”

You shut the door, placing your hand on your husband's chest, pushing him back into your dressing room. Sitting on your vanity chair, you turn to him, “No, daddy can’t get a kiss, cause he’s been a very, very bad boy, right?” You tilt your head, pulling a pouty face. A pouty face he would personally die for.

Sukuna drops to his knees, picking up your smooth leg, kissing up from the tip of your toes to your thigh before you stop him, grabbing his jaw, whispering against his lips. “I don’t think Daddy should touch Mommy for a very, very long time. And d’you wanna know something else, daddy?”

“What?” He whimpers. 

“Mommy is so sick and tired of wearing panties.” You slowly open your legs slightly, showing Sukuna the surprise under your dress. He gulps nervously, eyeing your bare cunt. “In fact, I threw them allll in the trash.”

“God…”

“What’s wrong, Daddy?” 

He shakes his head, telling you he’s fine, but his body is on fire right now. 

“Nothin’, mommy…” He’s practically drooling onto your thighs. God, you’re amazing. “But, can daddy just have… one touch, please? Just one?” He slowly moves his head closer to your pussy, but you snap your legs shut on his head.

“Umph!”

“I said no touching.”

“God, baby, this is enough to get me off.” You hear him mumble.

“Ugh,” You open your legs, pushing him off you. You're going out with your girlfriends, so he needs to back off. You are still very much so, not over your argument from two weeks ago.

You shove your French-tipped toes into your heels, walking towards the front door. “I’m going out.” 

Sukuna looks you up and down, You’re wearing the skimpiest outfit known to mankind. “Y-you’re um… going out like that?”

You raise a brow.  

“Is that a problem?” 

“Baby…” he places both hands on your arms, gently stroking them. “Baby, of course it’s a problem. You’re practically naked. You want me to go to prison for murder?”

“You're about to go to prison for fraud, Sukuna.” You throw his arms off your body, attempting to slam the front door in his face, but of course, he catches it before you can. 

“Baby, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, whatever.” You wave.

—

Sukuna misses you. He misses his wife. He misses the breakfast you would make him before ”work.” He misses your kisses. The way your pussy would suck in his cock— sorry. He even misses when you yell at him. At least you were talking… in some way. He needs to fix his work troubles; each year, it’s become more and more difficult. But this year they’ve been on his ass more than usual. He feels as though it might be the end of the life he’s been living. 

Goodbye luxury, hello poverty!

Shit.

The next morning, he sends your daughter off with your mother so he can spend some time with you. 

Only you (:p)

You’re asleep right now, so you might go crazy if you find your daughter, not sleeping in her cot, but obviously, he’ll explain. He got his assistant to go on an early shopping run, buying many, many presents for you, you know, money talks. He’s made you breakfast, not the personal chef you guys have, him. Crazy right? Even a path of roses from your bed to the kitchen. He’s gone all out for you. Now he’s just got to wait for you to wake up… or he could just wake you up himself.

He walks into your room, and you’re wide awake. Your head slowly turns to him. Panda eyes, smudged lipstick, the whole lot. You’re scowling at him, and he’s smiling at you. 

“Hi, Duchess,” he says as he carefully treads towards the beast you. “Did you have fun? It looks like you did.” 

“Why are you in here?”

Sukuna tries his utmost best not to roll his eyes at you. He shuts his eyes, taking a deep breath before answering you. 

“I made you breakfast, come, come.”

You don't move.

You’re now both staring at each other, waiting. You’re waiting for him to leave and he’s waiting for you to get the fuck up. 

You lose the staring contest. 

He’s thrown you over his shoulder, bringing you down to the kitchen, plopping you into your seat.

Sukuna spreads his arms wide open, showing you the breakfast he prepared for you, with a grin on his face. It’s all your favourites, you can't even try and be mad at him. A small smile tugs at the corner of your lips, and he notices. He runs around the table, coming to place many sloppy kisses on your face.

“I’m sorry, alright? I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. I’ll never forgive myself, but pleaseee forgive me. Please? I miss you.” 

“I miss you, too.” You say quietly, but enough for him to hear.

“I know you do, baby.”

“Ugh, don't be cocky.” 

You spend the whole day with Sukuna. He doesn’t leave your side. He already showered, but got back in the shower just to be next to you and fuck you slowly agaisnt the wall. Telling you how sorry he was for what he said to you. He also fucked you on the bed, the couch, the kitchen, anywhere you could think of, he fucked you there. Let’s just say, your mansion is about to be christened for the second time.

Every time he slid into you, it felt like his first. The squelching sound of your wet cunt fuelled him to fuck you harder and harder. Using you as his personal flesh light. And you love that. It makes your cunt throb, nonstop. You like it when he uses you. He’s breathlessly grunting in your ear, biting down slightly with his canine. “Daddy’s sorry, baby. So fucking sorry. Mmm, I love you Duchess, fuck.”

“Love you t-too, Daddy.”

Sukuna’s hips continued to roughly plough into you back and forth; so roughly, your head was constantly banging against the headboard. “Thank me, baby. Thank daddy for making you feel so fucking good.” You’re completely dazed; in another world. You feel your husband gently slapping your face, trying to bring you back to earth. Your body is limp. All you can feel is the wetness of Sukuna’s thick cock pummelling in and out of your pussy. He really has reduced you to being a flesh light. 

“Dont make me wait, Duchess, you want me to fucking stop?”

You let out a choked sob, “No, please ‘m sorry, so sorry, please don’t stop.”

Sukuna shoves his face right into yours, smooshing your cheeks together, painfully slowing down the perfect pace his hips were fucking into you. “Say. It.”

“Mmm, th-thank you, Daddy, thank you so mm-uh-ch.” A huge grin plants onto Sukuna's face. He likes it when you’re like this. Obedient. Not when you’re throwing glass cups and ignoring his presence. He hates that. It upsets him. Really. His beautiful, amazing, sexy wife, not giving him the time of day? 

Just take his life!

“Goood girlll,” he sighs. “I love you like this baby. A needy little slut that can’t function without my dick, huh?” Your wet walls pulse around him as he teases you, prompting a chuckle out of him. 

“Mm mm, I can’t, I need you so bad.”

He flips over pressing your body into the mattress, sliding back into you, pulling out of you slowly and slamming his cock roughly into your cunt. 

“Missed you so much, missed your pussy so *slam* fucking *slam* much *slam*.”

You can’t help but scream. It hurts so good. The white ring of your wetness and his pre cum circled around the base of Sukuna’s cock. Dripping down onto the heavy balls that were slapping your sensitive clit. He speeds up his thrust again, nudging at your cervix. The louder you moan, the harder he fucks you, you let it get to this point. How could you not let him touch you for so long? This is what it does to a man. Turns him into a damn animal. 

“Daddy, please, I’m gonna cum, I’m onna cum so fucking h-ard— oh god!”

Your eyes roll completely back to the back of your head, as you cum around Sukuna’s thick cock. Your pussy doesn’t stop spasming; it can’t. The sensation you’re feeling is intense and out of this world. You might have to argue with your husband more if this is how he’ll fuck you afterwards. 

Sukuna is seconds behind you, throwing his head back loudly, groaning out, into the air. Hips flush against your ass.

Thick ropes of cum spurt out into your womb. He doesn’t stop cumming, he can’t.  Two weeks of no sex is a long time for the two of you. Usually, you’re at it twice a day. One to wake you up and one to put you to bed. This right here was a world record, so is the fat load he just emptied inside of you. Honestly, he’s secretly hoping that’ll get you pregnant from this.

“Come ‘ere.” 

He pulls your limp self towards him, hugging you tightly. Placing thousands of kisses on the top of your pretty head. 

“We’ll be all right, Duchess, don't worry your pretty little head.”

“We’re set for life. They’ll never catch my ass.”

extra note: i’m sorry if the smuts bad… i dont know ive been finding it difficult to write it. so i’m sorry:( also i wrote an ending where sukuna was gonna go to prison but no. not my man! also i clearly really want sukuna to squish my cheeks… not my ass cheeks. my cheeks -_-

© 2025 @valleydolli please don't copy or translate any of my work. all rights reserved. (I will find you if you do.)

[kamospeach]

plot: richboy!gojo takes his cute girlfriend golfing

content warning: exhibitionism, very nasty, pervy rich boy gojo mix, gojo is the biggest horndog ever, girly girl reader, established relationship, cunniilingus, fingering, missionary, public asf, they get caught, tad second hand embarrassment, cowgirl, dirty talking, breeding, implied blowjob, very nasty

peachy's yap: idk how i came upon this idea but it makes me wiggle my toes.

you weren't exactly sure how you ended up getting your guts rearranged on your boyfriend's golf cart. you do remember being in his bed as his head laid on your stomach. while your fingers lazily ran through his white fluffy hair.

the two of you had been insanely bored for the last three days. you were both back home from college, and your parents had the audacity to go on a trip together, leaving the two of you alone in satoru's gigantic mansion for a whole week.

you weren't overly excited to see each other either, you went to the same school for fucks sake. this summer was a bust, suguru was in italy, shoko was with her girlfriend's family, and you two were... there.

"toruuu," you whined lightly pulling at his hair to get his attention. he groggily lifted his head to look up at you. forcing his eyes open after your fingers lulled him to sleep.

"yeah, baby?" he asked, chin resting on your tummy as he tried to keep his eyes open. he was failing terribly by the way. you had finally come up with an idea, knowing gojo would be all for it.

"remember how you said you wanted to take me golfing?" you asked, and gojo jumped up as if he had never been asleep. he quickly walked off to his closet, grabbing what you assumed was the golfing outfit he bought for you, probably well over a year ago. just as you suspected, he walked out with a pleated skirt and cropped polo.

"i've been waiting for this day for a year now," he laughed to himself, throwing the clothes at you. "i'm about to go get dressed." he giggled, running off to the closet. an hour later, the two of you were on his golf cart off to the private golf course in his very own backyard.

"i can't believe you made me wear this short ass skirt." you huffed arms crossed and gojo had the nerve to just laugh. the skirt was so old you didn’t even fit into it anymore. your ass peaked out but gojo reminded you that the course was private.

"i didn't make you do anything, i just gave you a sense of security." he nodded to himself as if that was the smartest thing he had ever said. you shook your head at his statement, not even bothering to argue with your strong-headed boyfriend.

when gojo had finally taken you to where you would play, he got off the cart. you watched his every move not understanding a damn thing he was telling you. all you did was admire how mouth watering sexy he looked in his richie rich get up. a black short sleeve polo that unironically matched yours, and beige slacks.

this fit was almost more attractive than his workout compression shirt. the way his arms bulged under the cotton mesh as he slipped on his gloves, or how his big muscular thighs were visible through his pants, and the veins in his arms were protruding due to him pulling the gloves on.

"get up, girl, you ain't think you were going to sit there the whole time, did you?" he asked, reaching his hand out for you. you grabbed his hand, stepping down off the golf cart, following shyly behind him. he handed you the club, standing behind you. "hold it here," he instructed.

he was hard and he shamlessly pressed it against your barely clothed ass. you didn't acknowledge it, knowing that it was best to breeze past it. so you let gojo show you where your hands were supposed to be, and you listened. he even helps you get a little power in your swing, the ball flying a solid 10 feet in front of you.

"i did it!" you giggled, turning to look at gojo who blinked in disbelief. and when he saw the seriousness on your face it took everything in him to hold back a laugh. "what? if i didn't do good, show me how it's done."

"alright," he said, grabbing the club from you, walking the short 10 feet to grab the ball. you stood back watching his big swing and the ball fly across the course. your jaw was practically on the floor in shock that he was so good at it. "that's how it's done."

"no fair toru... you're good at like everything," you whined, and gojo scoffed.

"don't do that, y/n, it takes practice." he pecked your lips, helping you get in the cart so you could go to the ball that was all the way in timbuktu. on the ride there, gojo had the bright idea to play strip golf.

the rules were simple, however, many tries it took for you to get it in the hole, was as many pieces of clothing you had to remove. you weren't confident in your abilities, but you were determined. how hard could it be? every other challenge you did with gojo you won.

well... except this one.

it took gojo all of 4 tries to get the ball in, and it took you 27. which resulted in gojo shaving it down to 6 since you didn't have 27 pieces of clothing. so all gojo had to take off were his socks, pants, and shirt. for you, that was your socks, shirt, skirt, bra, and panties.

"toru i'm butt ass naked," you said as gojo basically got a strip show from you. his eyes never left your body for a second. drooling over you like a virgin who had never laid eyes on a woman's bare body.

"and fine as fuck." was all he said grabbing you by your waist so that you were standing between his legs. he kissed along your neck moving his kisses to your lips. the kiss was heated and urgent, gojo was needy and wasn't afraid to admit. "i need you, so bad."

"wait... baby? right here?" you asked, and he nodded, not questioning it or hesitating. he didn't say much, he just picked you up and placed you down on the backseat of the cart. pushing your legs to your chest, giving you a knowing look, but you didn't obey. "t...toru, hold on a second." you said breathlessly making him deadpan.

"hold em," he said, and you sighed, grabbing the back of your legs, holding them up and open. gojo dropped to his knees, not even caring about his knees digging in the mud. his focus was on sending one teasing swipe of his tongue up your slick folds.

he hummed at the taste of your essence on his tongue. he was so sure he could use your slick as honey for his desert. so sweet he needed a glass of milk to wash it dow-

"toru!" you yelled at him for the third time, knocking him out of his trance. once he came back to reality, he dove into his lunch. his tongue lapped at your juices and teased your poor delicate clit.

sucking and spitting and licking and slurping, it was a mess. he even began to finger your tight cunt with not one not two but three fingers. digging his unnaturally long digits to the deepest parts of your pussy being sure to stimulate that spongey spot inside of you.

moans were spewing out your mouth as your hands ran through his damp hair. pulling at the white locks, your eyes to the back of your head as you delve in the pleasure. you were quickly coming upon your climax, and gojo knew it too. and not because you were violently squeezing down on his fingers. no. but because you were chanting it out as gojo finger fucked you with no mercy.

"cumming i'm... m'cumming toru fuck fuck fuck so close." you babbled and he smirked pulling of you puffy clit with a 'pop!' this was his entertainment watching you squirm as you creamed all over his fingers.

"cream on my fingers so i can clean it up for you," he tells you and you do just that as you cum violently. your eyesight is blurry as you see gojo looking down at you with a shit eating grin. he doesn't say anything as he slips out his fingers licking them clean just as he said he would. "so fuckin' perfect," he mumbled pulling your hips closer to him.

he pulled his boxers down, stepping out of them. his angry red cock slapped his navel leaving a string of sticky precum behind. his hand gripped the base of his cock slapping it against your clit. he chuckled watching your body react to him. he wasted no time using his thumb to push his cock head in line with your entrance.

"fuck." he grumbled from the feeling of your tight entrance trapping his tip. he fought the urge to cum right then and there. he pushed himself the rest of the way into you, bottoming out with nothing on his mind except you.

"s...shit toru you're too deep," you whined and he grunted pulling halfway out and slamming back into you. all the wind was knocked out of you as you gasped for air. followed by a moan that could probably be heard back at the mansion.

"so wet, squeezing down on me so tight," he hummed enjoying the feeling. after waiting for you to finally be ready, his hips snapped into yours. his pace was feral and needy as moans and groans flew from his mouth. his lips crashed onto yours, kissing you sloppily, spit spilling out of your mouths. rolling down your cheek and onto the bare skin of your chest.

that was one of the many things you loved about gojo, he was not afraid to moan. which only encouraged you to moan and whimper louder. it wasn't like you had to try very hard with the way he dug in your guts. so here you were, finally remembering how you got in this position. strip golf, never ever again, you thought to yourself.

while gojo was relentlessy fucking into you, his hips stilled. you were about to protest until he held his finger up to his lips. you quickly closed your mouth as well, hearing someone talking.

"today was supposed to be my day off, but mr. gojo asked me to tend the garden today." the person who you figure was the gardener said. gojo leaned down, covering your body with his.

"same, he asked me to clean the pool." the pool cleaner added. there was a line of trees next to the two of you, and it sounded as if they were behind them.

"my ass is out." gojo whispered in your ear with a light chuckled. you swatted his arm, light telling him to hush, but that only got him started. the motions were small, but you felt the way his hips ground into yours. the way his pelvis stimulated your clit and his dick pulsed in you.

"i guess we better get back to the mansion," another worker said, and you whimpered from the feeling. it didn't seem like they were really planning on going back. but eventually the footsteps got further away and you both loosened up. he quickly picked you up and sat on he seat instead.

"ride me... please?" he practically begged, looking up in your eyes. his bright blue eyes burning a hole into your face above his shades. you nodded shyly, always getting bashful when it was your time to be on top.

you wasted no time riding him slowly, teasing him with your deathly slow pace. his large hands gripped the fatty flesh of your ass holding on for dear life. his head was thrown back, jaw clenched as you squeezed down.

"you're driving me crazy," he grumbled lifting you and fucking up into you like crazy. your hands grabbed his forearm, begging him to slow down. "you gonna stop teasing me now?"

"m'sorry i'll stop i will," you whine and he eased up letting you take control. with your feet planted on the side of him, you began to ride him this time faster. the disgustingly loud 'plap, plap, plap' of your skin slapping was turning you both on. pushing you closer and closer to finishing.

you grabbed his face, forcing him to look at you. the way he licked his lips and bit his lower one to muffle his groans. it just made you desperate to press your lips and steal a kiss from him. but gojo was two steps ahead of you, noticing the way your sight was trained on his lips.

he leaned up, forcing his tongue down your throat. the two of you kissing sloppily swapping spit as your bodies were conjoined. one of his hands left your ass to reach between the two of you. using two fingers to rub your clit sending your body immediately into overdrive.

"close," you mumbled against his lips to which he simply mumbled 'mhm' against your lips. it didn't take much his pulling away from your lips to whisper a gruff 'cum'. even if he hadn't said that you were bound to cum right there and then. "fuckkk...!" you yelled your cream coating his cock and collecting around the base.

"m'right behind you baby shit i'm cumming." he groaned loudly as he shot his warm loud inside you. filling you up completely, not even bothering to pull out. he thrusted up into you a few more times being sure to stuff him cum all the way into your womb.

"you were right toru... the thrill of getting caught makes you cum harder." you huffed and gojo nodded.

"i told you years ago." gojo smirked, kissing your forehead, leaning back as you climbed off his lap. "you'll clean me off, won't you?" he asked, giving you those sickeningly effective puppy eyes. you didn't verbally comply, but he knew when you got on your knees, assuming the position. just like gojo earlier, not caring if mud would get on your knees.

"are we sick?" the poolboy asked the gardener who shook her head his fingers stuffed in her mouth. "fucking to our boss's son and his girlfriends moans."

sidenote: 

gojo’s hair was damp from thinking he was in high school musical 2, playing with the water and sprinklers, trying to make you laugh. 

[hoonstqr]

DUMB PUPPY | S.JY

warnings ; smut! mdni! hair pulling, virgin jake, step-cest, experienced reader, oral(f! & m!), the tiniest age-gap(3 years), usage of petnames such as noona, baby, praise kink. 𝔳𝖺𝗆𝔭𝗂𝗋𝖾 𝔟𝗂𝗍𝖾𝔰 : i have an insane corruption kink for him and its so fucking bad ughh. this was also previously named as purple lace bra(if u've seen the post i made about it). reblog to support :)

-----

the first thought that came to your mind when you first met your new younger step brother was to ruin him.

the way he blushes when you catch him off guard, the way his eyes widen when you enter the room, the way he calls you ‘noona’ with just the right mix of shyness and respect. it makes you want to own him, to corrupt him, to turn him into your little pet, your pup.

you decide to start with the basics, making him watch as you touch yourself in front of him, his cheeks burning red as he tries to look away. “baby,"” you coo, “don't you want to see what makes noona feel good?” you purr, stroking your finger along his jaw until he reluctantly nods.

his eyes are glued to your hand as you play with your panties, the fabric growing damp from your arousal. your heart races as you watch his pupils dilate, his breathing becoming shallow. “you like this, don’t you?” you tease, leaning in to whisper in his ear.

his nod is almost imperceptible, but the way his body tenses up tells you everything you need to know. you smirk, feeling a thrill of power as you push his boundaries further. you pull his face closer to your wetness, making him inhale your musky scent. “you can lick it, if you want,” you murmur, your voice dripping with desire.

his eyes dart to yours, full of confusion and need. he’s never done anything like this before, you can see it in the way he fidgets. but you don’t care. you want to break him in, to make him crave you, only you. “please, noona,” he whispers. you can feel his cock pressing against your thigh.

you push his head down, gripping his hair firmly. “yes, baby,” you say, “do it. make noona feel good.” you feel his hot breath on your pussy, and your grip tightens as you force his face into your wetness. his tongue tentatively touches you, and you let out a soft gasp. he’s so new to this, so clumsy, but it’s endearing.

his movements become more urgent as you guide him, showing him how to lick and suck. you can feel yourself getting wetter, his inexperience only adding to the thrill. “good boy,” you praise him, stroking his hair as he obeys your every command. your other hand slides down to cup his chin, pushing it harder against your clit.

you moan, the sound echoing through the room as your body starts to quiver. your eyes are half-closed, lost in the pleasure of his tentative touches. “fuck, baby,” you breathe, “you're going to make noona cum.” his tongue flicks against you faster, and your hips begin to rock against his face.

his hands grip your thighs tightly, urging you closer, and you can feel his own arousal straining against his pants. your nails dig into his scalp as you guide him, the sensation of his hair between your fingers adding to the intensity.

his breath is hot and ragged against your skin, his cheeks red with both embarrassment and excitement. the room fills with the sound of his eager slurps and your moans of pleasure. “fuck, yes,” you pant, feeling yourself get closer and closer to the edge.

you look down at him, his eyes watering slightly from your grip but never leaving your own. “right there,” you instruct, “keep going, baby.” your voice is hoarse with lust as you push his head even closer, grinding your pussy against his mouth.

his tongue swirls around your clit, and you can’t help but tighten your hold on his hair, pulling slightly as you feel your orgasm building. “shit, i'm coming,” his eyes widen in surprise when you come, your juices spilling over his lips and chin.

his breathing is erratic, matching the pulsing of your pussy against his mouth. you let go of his hair, and he pulls back, his eyes glazed with lust. “good boy,” you murmur, stroking his cheek. “now, it's your turn.”

you reach for his pants, unbuttoning them with ease and pulling out his hard shaft. “so big,” you whisper, stroking it gently. “do you want noona to suck on it?” he nods, his breath hitching in his throat.

you lean in and lick the precum off the tip of his cock, savoring the salty taste. “you taste so good, baby,” you moan, taking him fully into your mouth. his hands find their way into your hair, gripping tight as you bob your head up and down.

his hips jerk slightly, and you feel his cock throb with each stroke of your tongue. “noona,” he whimpers, his voice filled with need. you look up, meeting his eyes, and then down again, taking him deeper, feeling the heat of his desire in every pulse against your tongue.

his grip on your hair tightens, and you can feel his body tense up. “are you going to cum for noona?” you ask, your voice low and sultry. he nods, his eyes never leaving yours as he watches you take control. you suck harder, your cheeks hollowing out, your hand playing with his balls, feeling them tighten.

his breathing is harsh, and you know he's close. you swirl your tongue around the head of his cock, feeling him pulse in your mouth. “y-yeah,” he whispers, his voice breaking. you suck harder, feeling his orgasm building, the taste of him on your tongue making you wetter.

his hips buck, and he comes with a strangled groan, filling your mouth with his hot cum. you swallow it down, savoring the moment, feeling powerful as he trembles beneath you. his hands loosen their grip on your hair, and he collapses back onto the bed, panting heavily.

you give his cock one last gentle suck before releasing it with a wet pop, his cum glistening on your lips. “see baby,” you say with a wicked smile, “that wasn’t so bad, was it?” his face is flushed, a mix of embarrassment and satisfaction.

“next time, we’ll do something even more fun.”

[leviathanxprincess]

Introducing Homicipher Characters to Your Plushies - Pt. 1

The Homicipher Characters come to you in hopes for whatever insanity they plan to drag you into, you instead have a different plan! Showing them your plushies!

Based off my series for the whb devils ! Consider this is scenario where you brought them back to your world with you and they understand your language fully now and vice versa !

Notes: Some very light suggestive content. Gender neutral reader ! This round of characters includes: Mr. Crawling, Mr. Scarletella, Mr. Chopped. Mr. Silvair, Mr. Gap, Mr. Hood, & Mr. Machete !

Mr. Crawling

Honestly you could do anything and it would just make him love you more.

But especially in this case!

He will sit and listen intently to every last thing you have to say about your plushies!

And he's memorized all of their names for you!! He knows which ones are your favorites and which ones you find the most comforting when you're upset.

He thinks you're so cute when you talk about them too!

He gives you and your plushies pets as you talk about them!!

Squishes your cheeks, you're the most adorable person to him and he's glad you shared with him such an important part of your life.

Will go out and find even more plushies for you. He would do anything for you after all!

Mr. Scarletella

If I'm being honest you could honestly talk about anything and he would just listen.

It wouldn't matter the topic. You wanna talk about your plushies? Then yeah of course he's gonna listen and eat up every detail.

He loves seeing your smile, and admittedly he does get a bit of cuteness aggression from it so prepare yourself for that lol.

However.... He does get kind of jealous of them too.

What do you mean he's not the only being you've given names to? Not to mention the amount of attention and affection you give to them.

Yes, these aren't living creatures and he knows this but he can't help himself!

He gets irritated about it, if you notice his jealousy right away and stop and give him attention then he'll get over it quick.

If it takes you longer to notice however. Things might end up requiring a much more bigger solution than just a few kisses and cuddles.

Mr. Chopped

They're very cute!! He likes your plushies and how excited and cute you get when you talk about them!!

But... They're not as cute as him, right?

Expect to be showing him an equal amount of attention as you are your plushies as your introducing him to them.

He just gets so grumpy and jealous way too easily.

He very much requires you to gush about him just as much as you gush about these inanimate objects.

And as long as you do so he is pleased and content and can live in harmony with your plushies.

He takes note of the names and while he might not remember every last detail, he does like talking to you about them!!

He knows it's an easy way to make you happy and he very much likes making you happy!!

However you'll never know that sometimes when you're not looking, he's glaring at them.

Mr. Silvair

While I don't think he really cares that much about the plushies, he is interested in humans. And you.

So he'll listen. It gives him a bit of insight to how not human minds work, but specifically yours.

This odd cute stuffed creatures bring you immense joy, he's not sure why, but he knows it does and he would like to know why.

Honestly it doesn't really matter what you do, everything to him provides him with more research.

That being said, it's not like it ends up being solely about his research.

He does end up finding himself being oddly endeared by your behavior and how happy you when talking about your plushies.

He's taking to placing them on your whenever you're upset or need comfort. Especially since he knows it works.

He can soft and sweet sometimes. At least when it comes to his favorite human, of course.

Mr. Gap

The idea came to you when you saw him peeking out of a dark gap that was in your plushie pile!

He came to ask one of his typical questions, but you didn't let him get a word in!

You immediately just picked up one of your plushies and started talking about them!

He doesn't really quite find anything interesting about the plushies, but he is interested in you so!

He will listen to what you have to say. And he does know some of your plushies by name after you tell him about them.

Will occasionally show up with plushies he's found that he thinks you will like.

Of course you need to give him your heart to have them though!

You won't?

Well... he guesses he can settle for a kiss or something instead....

Mr. Hood

He doesn't quite fully understand your deep attachment to these objects, but he'll support your love for them fully.

We already know he's a good teacher, but he's also one of the best listeners as well.

He will sit for however long it takes for you to share with him all of your plushies and their names and even lore if you have that for them as well.

He does find it rather endearing, even if he's not quite sure why he enjoys you talking about something for so long.

Will pat your head occasionally, if only he had a head that you could see because if he did he would have the softest smile on it as he watches you talk.

Truly experiencing you share this with him just puts an even deeper desire in him to protect you from any and all harm.

He will make sure and be guaranteed to protect that bright, beaming smile on your face that you have in this moment. At any cost.

Mr. Machete

He does not give a shit.

Or at least that's what he says.

And well, to be fair, he is annoyed by your focus on these cute nonthreatening soft things instead of just sparing with him or something.

Don't ask him if he's jealous of your plushies, he'll deny it to ends of the earth.

Ignore that he's been acting grumpy since.

Just give him a little extra attention and he'll be fine.

Also seems like the kind to get cuteness aggression. But his cuteness aggression just leads to him wanting to fight you. And bite you. Maybe some scratching too. Basically he's not gonna be nice about it and just give you squeezing hugs or something lol

[tan1shere]

Bite It Lick it Spit It

Billie Eilish x female reader

A/n: I don't think I need to say anything here lovelies, enjoy !!

Summary: Billie is excited to show you this new song shes featured in, reciting her lyrics to you. Until she's recreating them on you.

Warnings: smut, mdni ! Spit ?? Eating out, strap usage, orgasm denial, squirting !! Think that's it <3

Masterlist ... extra ;)

"Babyyy."

You hear your girlfriend say, coming into the bedroom you both shared. She had her phone in hand, obviously about to show you something.

"Everything alright?" You ask setting your book down. It was currently 7 pm, she had been in the small studio downstairs. Working away on something. "More than alright. I want to show you what I have so far on this remix I'm doing." You smile at her as she sits beside you on the bed, excited to hear this. You always loved listening to the songs she'd make or was in. And you were so incredibly proud that this was going to be with another big star.

'Don’t have to guess the color of your underwear

Already know what you’ve got goin’ on down there'

She chants and you smile just enjoying listening to the lyrics.

'It’s that lacy black pair with the little bows'

That reminds you of a pair you own.

Wait...

'The ones I picked out for you in Tokyo'

Now she has your full attention. Sure you were listening to the lyrics beforehand, but now you're really listening. Her eyes were still on her phone, reading off the lyrics. Until her eyes met yours.

'I saw them when you sat down, they were peekin’ out'

Did she really write this about you? You had a pair of underwear exactly like the one she's talking about, you wore them alot actually. They were your favorite. Especially when she mentioned Tokyo. That was incredibly specific as that's where the pair was from. She had bought them for you as a gift when you traveled there for your birthday last year. Both yours and Billies eyes lock onto one another's. But she didn't stop there, keeping that eye contact alive.

'I'm gonna tell you right now, they're all I'm thinkin' about'

"True." She then whispers. Your brows furrow, feeling nervous at the insanity of this moment. Her eyes bore into your own, making you shift a little bit. Your eyes avert her lustful ones.

'I wanna try it, bite it, lick it, spit it. Pull it to the side and get all up in it'

You hadn't even realized she sat her phone down on her bedside table, and was inching closer to your body. "You wanna guess who that song is about." She speaks softly into your ear. You gulp, her voice delicate. Holding such filth at the same time. You don't answer for a second, trying to gain your composure. "Me....?" You question. She only smirks and let's out a small hum. Her body moves to hover over your own, instantly leaning down to kiss you. "I saw a photo of you on my phone from a year ago today. And that's what inspired me." She mumbles against the skin of your neck, as her kisses move all over the place. "Your crossed legs, in that skirt." You swallow thickly. Remembering that photo. You had your arms up in the air, sitting on a random beautiful fountain.

"That's why I mentioned how the straps were peaking out.. those baby pink bows." She bites down on your neck, making a gasp escape your lips. Your eyes shut in instinct as she continues on. "'Kiss it, bite it, can I fit it?'" The only thing you manage to get out was. "Fuck me."

She glady took that offer. Making her way down your body, getting to her destination. She pulls the pair to the side. "Wish it was the black ones." She trails off, slowly revealing your wet, sticky folds to her. Her eyes becoming drowsy, full of desire for you. She bit her lips slightly, grabbing the underwear by the top. And pulling them down, off your body, discarding them somewhere. Her favorite thing, on display for her. She had to admire for a little bit. But that just made you grow impatient. "Billie-" "shhh." She says, as her finger comes close to your puffy heat. She then quickly licks a small stripe up the middle, before she pulls back contemplating.

She spits directly onto your cunt, letting it slide down slightly. The big bit of saliva staying there for a second, before her face is directly infront of it. Her tongue sticks out and straight into your weeping, aching hole. Pushing the spit inside you. She pulls back to look at the mixture of wetness. And she did both. She managed to get you that wet. It was her spit now deep inside you. God she was proud at the thought. However she wasn't even done with penetrating your pussy. Her face is back in its original spot. Her lips make contact with your own, sending your head back into the pillows. Your hands eventually move to her silky hair, gripping as she speeds up her pace, her tongue entering you also.

It all felt amazing, when she does something unexpected. Her teeth sink into the lip of your pussy, biting and sucking all at once. It felt incredible. Why hadn't she done that sooner. "Bil.." You breathe, moaning on and off. "Feels so, good." You blab, still having your eyes shut. Feeling her lips move into her famous smirk, knowing that boosted her ego entirely. Your high was approaching and fast.

"Nooo." You then huff. Feeling her tongue move from you. Looking down at your fucked out body. Her smirk is ofcourse still visible at your little frustrated pout. "You're so annoying." You breathe, sinking into the sheets again.

"You won't be saying that in a second." Your head shot up again to look at her, but as soon as you do that a loud moan is being ripped out of you. How the hell did this woman put her strap on so quickly. She really wasn't kidding when she said 'in a second.' Impressive. A little hot in a way. Your mind turns into mush though, almost her whole length inside of you. "Had to get you worked open babe, yet you're still so tight." Another moan was to be heard, letting your eyes flutter close again, back instantly arching. Only thing visible in your brain are the lyrics to that song, and how she's recreating them all. "Guess I can fit it huh?" She then says, coming close to your face. "Speak." She orders you like a dog, when you don't respond.

"Y-yes.. feel so full." Her smirk returns to her face, picking up the speed. "Good. Just how it should." You let out another gasp again, feeling her thumb playing with your clit. This makes her chuckle, maliciously. She continues to fuck you relentlessly, beginning to let her hands roam over your skin, she pushes the baggy t-shirt you were wearing up, exposing your tits. They move in time with her thrusts. Her mind overflows with every disgusting but amazing fantasy. Your breath hitches as you feel cool metal on your breasts, looking to see her hands kneading them. How well they fit in her hands as she squished.

As her fingers move while doing so, you feel that same cold metal on your nipple making a shakey, content sigh leave you. It eventually turning into a moan as she squeezes again. She comes down to your face, your eyes were closed. "Look at me." She speaks, grabbing your jaw. You immediately open your eyes looking at her dark ones, which was always such a shock as they are so bright. Her face inches down towards your ear, she gives it a soft kiss before she's whispering. "Wanna make you squirt." Your eyes widen tremendously. If you weren't flustered before you really are now.

As you go to respond it was cut short, her thumb resumed on your clit, her thrusts are deeper, her ring covered fingers gripping your jaw. Her lips on your neck only adding to that, as she used the fuck out of you. You feel it coming, that tight knot. But you didn't have to say a word. She knew. She could feel it. It getting slightly harder for her at the way you're tightening, but that was a challenge she wanted to conquer. Obviously succeeding, she hits that gummy spot inside you, sending your mouth to fly open. "B-bil-" Yet another gasp was being pulled from you, it being loud in her ear as she continues to fuck the shit out of you.

Her pace never falters. Her thumb even speeding up as she sucks and bites your neck. You wanted to tell her you were close, as if she didn't already know. Your hands make their way to her arms, gripping as it's coming faster. "Fuck!" You screech out, you couldn't hold it any longer releasing within an instant, feeling her smirk into your neck. "And boom." She says into your ear, her voice husky. You hadn't even noticed it, but she actually did make you squirt. Your fucked out expression gives billie all she needs to know.

"Guess I'm just, that. good."

[sanemisstalker]

NSFW /// KNY characters who I think cum particularly hard/ a lot. This could have a part two, I'm eepy, srry.

CW/ Non specific gendered/genitalia reader / Cum... like an insane amount of cum / BDSM Dynamic (ENMU)/ Light Gore (ENMU)/ tbh, Enmu. / Cum-swapping (AKAZA)

Sanemi Shinazugawa

-Cums hards AND a lot.

-Sanemi isn't quite sure why is body is the way it is, maybe it's his breath control mixed with the insane amount of testosterone and panic pumping through his veins on the daily, but Sanemi doesn't struggle to get it up.

-he struggles to stay flaccid. He's far more likely to be hard at any given moment. Not that he's excited, his dick is just permanently stuck at half mast. It takes an insane, highly emotional amount to get him entirely flaccid.

-I think Sanemi's orgasm absolutely shreds him everytime, unanimously. Does that stop him from getting it up in another ten minutes? Absolutely not. I just truly think he's a medical anomaly.

-He cums prematurely, but what does it matter? It literally didn't go down, he's still fucking going, now he's just like, in tears about it.

-I think Sanemi's eyes get really wide and he gets lock jaw, and he seethes and he tries to hold back any noise, but it just shreds the poor guys throat, and now he's sore, and it hurts him to moan, but he just can't help it, you feel so fucking good- and all for him? It's all for him?

-Shakes. Sobs. Sounds incredibly desperate, don't let the facade fool you. If he loves you, he's a crier.

-Also physically cums a lot. Not just by how many orgasms, but by how much each time is. I think he's got an obnoxiously low set of balls. He's made to breed, the poor bastard. If he can't let go in you, both of you are covered in it by the end of the night.

-Sanemi has yet to tap out before you.

Kyōjurō Rengoku

-Cums a lot.

-Rengoku has good stamina, but once he cums, he's done for, no more. He can keep going if he really wants to, or if you look like you really need him, but chances are the first round wad more than enough.

-vocal, but in a fatherly way. Sex with Rengoku is probably very... comfortable.

-Until he cums and now you're sticky from your chest to your upper thigh. The range of his shot is insane. He cums buckets, and he barely blinks. His breathing gets a little ragged, and his chest a little shakey, but that's it.

-He needs to go night night after, though. Feeling any amount of joy that doesn't come from stuffing his face does a number on him emotionally and physically. He needs a cuddle and a conversation about... idk, taxes after.

-Won't beg to cum in you, but really, really wants to.

-He always pulls out like a gentleman (if you can be much of a gentleman when you're balls deep), but you can always tell that he wants to see your face so bad when he pumps you full.

-Will not ask. That'd be rude.

-Talks you through your orgasm, but that's another post for another day.

Enmu

-Fuck, I just know he's a screamer. He cums so hard.

-This guy's a fucking mess, but it takes work.

-Enmu is such a good submissive that you're always shocked when he decides to mouth off to you, or when he forgets a command. Not too shocked, though. It's very clearly intentional. It always is.

-He gives himself a bit in between each 'screw up' to make sure he's edged himself mentally properly (very hard, he's almost always some kind of aroused, and he's prone to cumming untouched, so that build up is a little diificult.)

-While he doesn't struggle to ask for things, and his dignity is subzero, Enmu still appreciates a stray chase here and there. After all, it's the only thing mentally stimulating enough for him to cum.

-In any normal dynamic with Enmu, he isn't often left using his dick. So when you've got a spear through his wrists, locking them behind his back, one hand pulling his hair, the other jerking his cock with thoughtless speed-

-Enmu can never cum harder than when he's recieving borderline abuse. His dick looks irritated, going untouched for months previous, and now it's receiving all this attention. Can you blame him for being this loud?

-His legs shake, his whole body recoils. He drools and screams- laughs and wails. He cries with the brightest smile you've ever seen. His hips buck up. You're not being gentle, and he's so, so happy. The orgasm is ripping through every nerve in his body.

-He feels like he's in the sun again.

-He's hoping Muzan can see him look so pathetic. You're just hoping the demon lord stays out of your man's head.

Akaza

-cums like a horse.

-a lover, truly. That's the only word encompassing enough to describe Akaza's efforts sexually. He's a fantastic lover.

-... who can go for hours... days even and never get tired. Every orgasm blows off his shoulders- It's all about you. It always has been, it always will be.

-You've made him cum hard before, it's a rarity, but it's possible... Its just nothing feels as good to him as watching you cum, so he'll do whatever must be done-

-and if that means pumping you full again and again, until you're leaking from every accessible orifice, so be it.

-He'll lick your hole clean, reveling in the way you twitch after your.... you lost count after the fifth one. That won't stop him from tongue fucking you.

-His cum tastes... shockingly good. You like to give him head, and then come up to give him a kiss. He'll pull your tongue down, wanting to see it in your mouth just before you swallow. You always look so proud of yourself. He can't help but reward you with a kiss before you even get it down.

-there's way to much for one swallow. You can barely manage to keep all of it in your mouth while showing him. Your effort is precious, though.

-Akaza looks really good with cum on his lips. It's one of the only times you see him really flustered.

[vanteguccir]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤCRAZY WOMAN ON TOUR * CHRIS STURNIOLO * BLURB

SUMMARY　::　where during day 2 of the Sturniolo Triplets Surprise Party Tour, an insane woman tries to get the boys' attention in a very rude way, interrupting Chris and annoying Y/N.

FEATURING　Chris Sturniolo x reader　REQUESTED?　no.

WARNINGS　::　second-hand embarrassment (lol), purposefully change of the woman's name.

AUTHOR'S NOTE　::　that is my work, I DON'T authorize any form of plagiarism; copy, "inspiration" or translation! | english isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

A/N²: For the ones who don't know what this is about, watch this.

A/N³: I don't know why, but watching the scene of the woman on yesterday's show reminded me of this, and I felt inspired to write this 😭.

Y/N's eyes gleamed with pride and admiration as she watched her boyfriend and his brothers, the golden stage lights casting a beautiful glow over the two vibrant orange couches where the triplets sat.

Matt and Nick lounged comfortably on the left one, their elbows draped lazily over the armrests, while Chris occupied the right couch alone, his right leg crossed over his left.

"Because we're triplets, and we're so close, like, doing all this-" Chris began, his fingers grazing the tattoo on his ankle. But before he could continue, an abrupt, high-pitched voice from the balcony cut the moment like a knife.

"MY NAME IS LANY!"

Chris blinked, his lips parting slightly as he turned his head toward the disruption.

"... Um, hi, Lany." With an exasperated look, he simply muttered before refocusing on his brothers, determined to continue speaking.

But before another syllable could leave his mouth, the same voice shrieked once more.

"MY NAME IS LANY!"

Nick, who had been shifting slightly in his seat, turned sharply toward the source of the noise, lifting his microphone to his mouth with such a strength that Matt swore it would hit his front teeth.

"Can you stop talking?"

For a few seconds, an uneasy silence stretched across the theater before Chris resumed his talking.

"But basically, what I was saying before I was rudely interrupted, was that our tour is so unique and so genuine-"

"MY NAME IS LANY!"

Chris’s jaw visibly clenched, his eyes momentarily shutting in frustration as the same disruptive voice rang out once more.

And that was it.

That was the moment Y/N’s patience finally snapped.

She had been trying - truly trying - to maintain her composure, to let security handle it, to ignore the way this woman was actively trying to end the boys' moment. But the audacity of continuously cutting Chris off, interrupting his focus, and disturbing the flow of their conversation made her skin crawl.

Y/N despised seeing him struggle to stay composed, knowing how much this tour and his surprise for this night meant to him - being right by his side when he got his tattoos. Her fingers curled into her palms, sharp nails hurting her soft skin, and with a steady exhale, she pushed herself up from her seat.

Her movements were smooth but purposeful, pure authority in the way she started walking toward the stairs leading to the balcony. She wasn’t moving impulsively - no, she knew exactly what she was going to do.

Chris, noticing her stand, flicked his gaze toward her briefly, his lips pressing together.

But he didn’t stop her. He knew better.

As she walked, fans sitting by the edge of the rows around the small runway turned their heads, their eyes widening in excitement. Some exchanged whispers, giddy over seeing her so close, while others simply watched in admiration.

They adored her just as much as the boys.

As Y/N finally reached the first row of the balcony, her voice softened, a big contrast to the tension in those around the crazy lady.

"Excuse me." She murmured, offering polite smiles to the fans as she carefully navigated her way past them. "So sorry, just need to get through. Thank you."

Finally, she reached her target.

Lany, seemingly preparing to scream once again, inhaled deeply, but before she could release another obnoxious shriek, Y/N stepped between her and the railing, positioning herself directly in her line of sight.

Her presence alone was commanding, her expression unreadable yet firm. Lowering her voice, she leaned in slightly.

"You need to stop." She said, voice calm but firm. "If you keep this up, you're going to have to leave."

The woman scoffed, folding her arms as she tilted her head.

"Oh, and who exactly are you?"

Y/N's lips curved just slightly, but there was no humor in her eyes.

"I’m the person telling you to stop." She replied, her voice unwavering.

Lany opened her mouth again, tilting her body so her eyes could meet the stage, her breath hitching as she prepared to yell. Y/N, already anticipating it, exhaled sharply and rolled her eyes before making her next move.

In one swift motion, she draped her arm around the woman’s shoulders - not aggressively - but with enough pressure to assume control.

Immediately, several fans close by stood up, concern flashing across their faces, fearing that the woman would hurt Y/N. But Y/N was quick to turn her head slightly and flash them a soft, reassuring smile.

"I’m okay." She murmured, her voice smooth as silk.

Despite the subtle struggle, Lany quickly realized she was outmatched. With little choice, the woman allowed herself to be led toward the stairs.

At the top of it, Paul, the boys' head security guard, and Y/N's favored, was already waiting. His expression flickered with concern as Y/N approached, his gaze scanning her for any sign of distress.

"Please escort her out. She’s done here." Y/N instructed, her tone neutral but firm.

Paul gave a curt nod, his grip solid as he took the woman from Y/N's hold, ignoring the way she tried to escape his hands.

"Understood."

Y/N took a deep breath, her shoulders rolling back as she released the last bit of tension from her muscles. Her gaze instinctively dropped down to the stage, where Matt was talking now. Her eyes were quick to meet Chris's figure, his brows slightly furrowed as he processed everything that had just happened.

Then, as if sensing her eyes on him, Chris glanced up. And when their gazes locked, she sent him a small, knowing smile - one only meant for him.

Chris exhaled, his posture finally easing, his fingers once again tracing the ink on his ankle as he prepared to finally watch the video carrying his surprise.

© vanteguccir

[plutodexay]

Thunderbolts* Headcannons

Them asking you out on a date and how they would go about doing it!

Includes Bucky, Ava, Walker, Yelana, and Bob! In that order

⋆˙⟡Bucky⟡˙⋆

He would be awkward but weridly confident. Like he would need to pysch himself up in the corner before walking over to you but would also have the idea that theres no universe in which you'll say no to him.

Its not the most romantic thing, he didn't bring flowers or a gift but he has that old timey mindset of how to do these things and that comes heavily into play.

"Would you like to go to dinner with me?" Bucky asked, a smirk on his face that for once showed no malice.

"Dinner?" You could feel your eyebrows furrowing at the simple question. Bucky was mostly distant with you, making this honestly a somewhat scary situation, but also an exciting one.

"I like you." His hand reached out to grab yours, the warm skin a contrast from what you'd expected. "And I would like to treat you to a nice evening if you'd let me." Emphasizing his words by bringing your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss into the back of it. You knew what your answer was.

⋆˙⟡Ava⟡˙⋆

Something tells me she'd be waiting for you to ask her first, like she would be secretly staring at you and trying to egg on conversations that could potentially lead to the two of you being alone together.

If she did end up asking first, it would be out of despration or a slight outburst in the middle of a conversation. Asking is hard but she also doesn't want to risk you getting with someone else or leaving.

"I mean I have the reservation, I'll probably just ask some random tinder match to go with me ya know?" Yelena laughed along with you at your words, the topic of this stupid gifted reservation on valentines day driving you insane.

"Could take me." Ava muttered, face strained in annoyance as she stood by the both of you.

"Sorry say that again?" You asked, trying to make sure you heard her right, and you really hoped you did.

"Take me." Ava said louder this time, a tone of anger in her voice. "I'm right here, more than willing to have all the cringe romance shit you could just take me."

"I'd love to." Her face turned to one of pure shock, matching Yelenas similar expression. "You'd be the perfect date."

⋆˙⟡Walker⟡˙⋆ (Im still in the constant changing opinion of this man but I am a women of giving daydream ideas to people so enjoy)

I don't even think he asks. He's full of that surface level confidence that slowly fades the more comfortable he gets around you. His pride is intense so he just doesn't ask, he tells you.

Even with this he'll get visbily excited when you don't say no. He has an extra kick in his step when he walks away from you after it. You can't point it out until much later in the relationship which by then he'll admit to rehearsing it all in a mirror the nigth before.

"You me the park at 7pm tomorrow." John said as he walked up to you, no hello's or anything else.

"Oh yea?" You chuckled as you watched his smirk faulter at your pushback for just a moment.

"Yea, you have a problem with that." He took a step closer, keeping eye contact with you seemingly attempting to challenge you to push him furhter. You weren't going to, you knew that but the fact that he did not for these few seconds made it much more fun for you.

"I'll be there." You broke the silence, and all you got was a nod from him as he turned to walk away, watching as he walked as if he'd had multiple shots of expresso hilariously.

⋆˙⟡Yelena⟡˙⋆

Oh so stereotypical for some reason. Once she knows she wants you she will be getting you and that is the end of the discussion. She'd ask you while handing you a huge bouquet of your favorite flowers wrapped in perfectly tied ribbon.

It'll be done in private to, a timed place where nobody could dare to interupt. She wants it to be perfect even if its just a first date and she will make it painfully so. She won't have anything planned for the actual date though, wanting to get your opinion on it before hand.

"Is there any reason why we're out here?" You said aloud, looking around the quiet park. This specific spot you were in had nobody running around it, you could hear the rest of them off in the distance yet here and now it was just you two.

"I wanted peace and quiet so I could ask you." Yelena's tone was serious but her face gave off hints of excitment. You watched as she ducked below the bench to pull out of bundle of flowers. "For you." She extended the flowers towards you, waiting with a smile until you grabbed them.

"Why?" You could feel the confusion on your face as you switched focus between the flowers and her.

"I would like to take you out on a date if you'd let me." Now she was nervous, you could hear it but god was it endearing.

"Please do."

⋆˙⟡Bob⟡˙⋆

Sleepily, its the only time he has enough confidence. You two would be resting in the common space after a mission, everyone else had left to go to their own rooms but you two always watched something before doing so.

He'd be half asleep bundled under a big blanket on the couch next to you when he'd ask. Saying he'd been thinking about it for ages and would really like to start sharing couches. Falls asleep the moment you agree but thankfully remembers in the morning.

"We should share a couch one day." Bob mumbled, words coming out at the right commercial break.

"Yea?" You chuckled, pushing your own blankets down enough to get a view of his red but bundled face in the tv's light.

"Mhm." He hummed, eyes closed and shifting further down into the cushions. "If we go out on a date we could do it." A smile grew on his face, imagining that scenario.

"I'd like that." You responded, watching him grin adorbly. "If you'd like." You added, knowing his tired mind races from him often enough that it can and has become an issue.

"Zoo date?" He whispered, prying his eyes open to look at you with baited breath for a response that wouldn't ruin the moment.

"Zoo date."

[jungkoode]

死 KKANGPAE | #18 死

† procurement †

"Waking up in his bed should feel like victory, but all you can think about are those pill bottles on his nightstand."

next | index

⚔ chapter details ⚔

word count: 9,5k

content: morning vulnerability and insomnia revelations, elevator sexual tension that goes nowhere, council meeting drama with heated arguments, mission prep with jessi's weapons expertise, undercover outfits that make jeon stare, AD's suspicious surveillance knowledge, and the calm before infiltrating mdf territory

☠ author's note ☠

As a European, I have absolutely no clue about guns so let's hope my research was decent and their weapons actually make sense ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) If any gun enthusiasts are reading this and I've somehow made a sniper rifle that shoots rainbows, just... pretend it's for the plot.

ANYWAY THE BIG DAY IS FINALLY HERE!!! Next chapter is THE MISSION and are we excited??? Because I AMMMMM!!! I've been building up to this for literal months and my chaotic little writer brain is VIBRATING with anticipation!

Jeon + motorbike = HOT AS HELL 🥵 Like sir, you're already dangerous enough, did you really need to add vehicular competence to your list of attractive qualities? RUDE.

Also Jessi is so mother mommy mama I love her! I mean, I say that about every single one of my characters, don't I? But what can I do—they're all so complex in my opinion! I have to really put myself in their position in every single scene and think genuinely about how they would react. Because one thing is how I WANT them to react, and another is how they would REALISTICALLY react, you know? Keeping those two aligned is harder than it looks, trust me!

Anyway ramble ramble ramble shut up Kiki we don't care—I KNOW BUT I'M THE AUTHOR so you're gonna read my rambling because I said so! I don't write 8k words per chapter to have my feelings dismissed! Y'all gonna put up with me whether you like it or not (╯°□°)╯︵ ┻━┻

Thanks for reading as always, love y'all! Now buckle up because things are about to get SPICY!

⚔ socials ⚔

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tumblr/twitter: @jungkoode

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎.

The obnoxious blaring of Jeon's alarm tears through the quiet morning.

It's 6 AM—that weird time when everything feels kind of hazy and unreal, like the world hasn't quite decided if it's night or day yet.

His phone keeps buzzing against the nightstand, screen lighting up like a strobe light.

You're barely awake, caught in that fuzzy space between sleep and consciousness. Jeon's sprawled half on top of you, which should probably be uncomfortable but... isn't. His arm's thrown over your waist in this weirdly soft way that doesn't match his usual don't-touch-me vibe. You can feel his chest rising and falling against your back, his breath warm on your neck.

For a second, you think about waking him up. But he looks so p̶e̶a̶c̶e̶f̶u̶l̶ different when he's sleeping—none of that cold, distant Chief of Tactical stuff.

Just a guy who really needs some rest.

"Jeon," you try anyway, voice coming out all scratchy from sleep. "Your alarm."

He makes this grunt that might be words but definitely isn't, face pressed against your skin. Instead of getting up, he actually pulls you closer, burying his face in the pillow like if he ignores the alarm hard enough, it'll give up and go away.

"Jeon, come on. Get it." You nudge him with your elbow because that fucking alarm is driving you insane. It just keeps going and going, like some kind of electronic torture device.

He lets out this long-suffering groan that perfectly captures the eternal struggle between wanting to sleep and having actual responsibilities.

His hand flops around looking for his phone, movements all clumsy in that way people only get when they're not really awake yet. When he finally finds it, he misses the screen completely on his first try.

"Fuck off," he mumbles—definitely talking to the phone, not you. The woodsy scent of his skin mixed with mint from his breath fills your lungs.

After what feels like forever (but is probably like, ten seconds), blessed silence falls over the room.

Jeon just tosses his phone somewhere (hopefully not off the bed) and immediately curls back around you like some kind of clingy octopus. His body's radiating heat like a furnace, and he's definitely not planning on letting you go anytime soon.

His aura wraps around you like summer rain, all soft and warm, making your head spin in the best way.

(You're starting to think maybe he's not a morning person.)

"Five more minutes," he mumbles, voice all rough and sleepy like some kid who doesn't want to go to school.

You can't help but smirk.

Who would've thought the terrifying Chief of Tactical was such a baby in the morning?

"Five more minutes, and you'll be the one explaining to the Council why you're late." You poke his side. "Good luck with that."

"What council?" He sounds like he's halfway to dreamland already.

"Council of 9, dumbass. You know, that super important reunion about tonight's mission?"

His only response is this little grunt before his breathing starts evening out again.

Oh no. Not happening.

You kick him under the sheets—not hard enough to hurt, just enough to be annoying. He flinches and makes this annoyed clicking sound with his tongue.

Finally, with this dramatic sigh that you can feel rumble through his chest, he gives in. His body peels away from yours like it's physically painful for him to move.

"Fine, fine," he grumbles, surrendering to reality.

When he sits up, cold air rushes in where his body heat used to be. You both kind of... linger there on the edge of his bed.

You watch him rub his face, trying to wake up properly. It's kind of fascinating, seeing him switch from s̶o̶f̶t̶ sleepy Jungkook back to Jeon, the cold and distant Chief of Tactical.

Another yawn catches you as you sit up, letting the sheets pool around your waist. You blink, trying to clear the sleep from your eyes, when something on Jeon's bedside table catches your attention.

Oh.

There's a whole fucking pharmacy there.

Your eyes scan over the labels—hypnotics, sedatives, tranquilizers, sleeping pills. The kind of cocktail someone needs when sleep doesn't come naturally anymore.

It hits different now, remembering all those times you've seen him in the cafeteria at ass o'clock in the morning. Always with that black coffee, those dark circles under his eyes that you thought were just part of his whole intimidating Chief of Tactical thing.

(Turns out even the great Jeon Jungkook has trouble sleeping.)

You can't help but wonder what keeps him up at night. What kind of memories play on repeat in his head when everything goes quiet.

Sure, being a gang leader comes with its own baggage—the violence, the paranoia, always having to watch your back.

But something tells you there's more to it. Things that left marks deeper than the little scar on his cheek. The kind of stuff that makes someone stock up on enough sedatives to knock out a horse.

Your eyes fix on this one bottle of hypnotics that's already half empty. Something in your chest tightens at the sight, but you quickly squash that feeling down.

The last thing Jeon needs is your p̶i̶t̶y̶ concern.

You know how this works. Show any weakness in Kkangpae, and you might as well paint a target on your back. The gang's full of sharks, always circling, always waiting for someone to bleed in the water.

So you bite back all the questions building up in your throat. Push down that weird urge to reach out, to try and make it better somehow.

Whatever demons Jeon's fighting, they're his to deal with.

You've got your own role to play here, and playing therapist isn't it. Some things just stay broken, and some nights just stay sleepless.

And some things are not yours to fix, even if some part of you wants to.

"You ready?" Jeon asks, already heading for the door without waiting to hear if you actually are.

You follow him out with a quiet sigh, but your mind's still stuck on all those pill bottles.

On what they might mean.

On all the nights he probably spends staring at his ceiling, fighting whatever demons keep him up.

The common areas in his wing of the Assassination Division are empty this early.

Your footsteps echo through the halls as you make your way to the elevator, where Jeon leans against the wall like he's got all day. He crosses his arms over his chest, getting lost in whatever thoughts are running through that complicated head of his.

When he doesn't move to actually do anything, you have to remind him that not everyone has his fancy Chief clearance level.

"You gonna scan your card or what?" You wave vaguely at the scanner. "You know mine won't work up here."

The corner of his mouth twitches up—just barely—like he's annoyed at himself for forgetting.

He pulls out his access card without a word and taps it against the scanner. The light blinks green, and the elevator starts moving.

While you're waiting, your brain decides to dig up this random memory from weeks ago.

That night Jeon showed up at your door out of nowhere, demanding his jacket back. You hadn't thought about it then, but now...

"Hey," you turn to look at him, "how did you get on my floor that night? To get your jacket back?" The question hits you out of nowhere. "Our cards don't work on each other's floors."

His eyes go wide for a split second—clearly not expecting that question. He just stares at you for a moment, lips parted like he's trying to figure out what to say. Then his gaze darts away and he rubs the back of his neck, which is basically a flashing neon sign that says busted.

(This should be interesting.)

"I, uh..." Jeon starts, looking at you then quickly away. He's actually struggling for words, which is new.

His fingers tap against his thigh in this nervous rhythm you've never seen before. Just when you think he's going to leave you hanging, he lets out this tiny sigh, shoulders dropping just a bit.

"I asked AD for temporary access."

Wait. What?

"And he... just gave it to you? Just like that?"

You narrow your eyes because something's not adding up here.

You've seen how these two interact—or don't interact, more like it. The way Jeon basically disappears whenever AD shows up, and how AD looks at him like he's personally offended his entire bloodline.

Sure, AD glares at everyone (especially J-Hope), but with Jeon? That's a whole different level of hate.

(Not that it's any of your business what's going on there.)

"Told him I needed my jacket back."

The elevator keeps moving down, and the silence between you gets kind of heavy. Something about how weirdly hesitant Jeon's being makes your curiosity spike. Part of you knows you should probably drop it, but...

"So, your card worked the whole night?" You try to sound casual about it, but there's definitely some skepticism bleeding through.

"Yeah." He finally meets your eyes again. "Clearance passes usually last for 24 hours."

You nod slowly, filing that information away.

"But didn't AD find it weird? The time stamp would show you came in at 3 AM and didn't leave until..." You trail off, remembering exactly why he stayed so long.

Jeon's eyes snap to yours, and something flashes across his face too quick to read before he looks away. The crease between his brows gets deeper as the silence stretches out.

"I don't think he actually checks the access logs that closely," he says finally. "At least he hasn't mentioned anything about the, uh, timeframe."

You think about that for a second. It seems weird that AD, of all people, wouldn't keep tabs on security access. But maybe Jeon's right—maybe AD doesn't actually monitor that stuff.

Then you remember something.

That day after the pool training, you saw AD in the elevator with Kazuha. He'd told you both to "be careful."

Was that his cryptic way of saying he knew exactly what went down that night?

The elevator dings, cutting through your thoughts.

Jeon pushes off the wall, giving you this little nod to go in first. You step inside, and the last thing you see is his back and this lazy wave goodbye before the doors slide shut.

Anyway, something tells you AD knows way more than he lets on.

You’d never been in The Council room until now.

And it’s… Well, it’s weird. Tense today.

Everyone's taking their usual spots around this stupidly long table, and RM's at the head of it like always, looking every bit the Supreme Commander he is.

"Thanks for coming, everyone." His voice carries that authority that makes even the most stubborn chiefs shut up and listen.

Well, almost everyone.

"I don't even see why I have to be here when you're all so set on leaving me out of it." V's practically radiating annoyance.

Moon gives him that patient look he reserves for when someone's being difficult. "This mission affects the entire gang. That's why we need the whole Council present."

"But I'm not even part of it." V throws his feet up on the table like the dramatic bitch he is, crossing his arms. "So why do I have to sit through all this bullshit?"

"You listen because shared knowledge makes us stronger." RM's eyes sweep around the table, meeting everyone's gaze—even yours. "Unity isn't just about standing together. It's about thinking as one."

V rolls his eyes so hard you're surprised they don't get stuck. "Yeah, yeah, I get the whole 'one gang' thing. But do I really need every fucking detail?"

"Details matter." Jeon's voice cuts through the tension. "MDF isn't some amateur operation. One tiny blind spot and we're fucked."

"It's a goddamn snake pit we're walking into." J-Hope waves his hands around like he's trying to grab invisible dangers out of the air. "We all need to know what kind of poison we might be dealing with."

JM leans forward, all serious despite his usually gentle demeanor. "That hideout's a maze. You two need more than just a way in—you need a solid plan to get the fuck out of there."

"Exactly." RM's sighs. "This intel could change everything. We do this right, we take out one of their major operations."

Flower, who's been watching everything with that calculating look of hers, finally speaks up. "And V, whether you like it or not, this meeting is what keeps your men at the docks from getting caught with their pants down while we're focused on this mission."

V scoffs, but you can see him actually considering her words.

Jessi stops lounging in her chair like this is some kind of casual meetup.

"Alright, cut the bullshit. What's the actual plan here, RM?" She leans forward, all business now. "And it better be good."

The room goes quiet—that heavy kind of quiet that makes your skin prickle.

RM stands up, and you can feel the weight of what's coming.

This isn't just another mission briefing. This is you and Jeon walking straight into MDF territory.

No pressure.

RM clears his throat, looking down at the stack of papers in front of him.

"Here's how it's going to work," he starts, voice authoritative. "Jeon and Y/N are going undercover. We've got IDs that'll get them through MDF's front door."

The word 'undercover' makes your stomach do this weird flip thing. Jeon shifts slightly beside you, his presence weirdly reassuring for someone who's usually about as comforting as a loaded gun.

"They'll play it as traders," RM continues, spreading out this map that looks like someone went crazy with a red marker. "Fresh faces trying to make it big enough to catch MDF's attention."

Jeon nods, watching AD's finger trace some path on the map. "What about their security? Cameras?"

"System loops every three hours," AD says, sounding bored but you know that's just his thing. "We're setting up a distraction. At 23:00, when the loop starts, they'll get a power surge. Six minutes of blind spots."

"Six minutes?" Jessi raises an eyebrow. "That's cutting it real fucking close."

"We can handle it." Jeon sounds so sure it actually makes you believe him. "Had worse timeframes before."

"That's your window to find the server room and plant the bug." RM points to some spot deep in what looks like a maze. "AD will be in your ear the whole time."

"And when shit inevitably goes sideways?" V asks, and despite how pissy he's been about being left out, you can hear actual braincells there.

"You'll be armed," RM says simply. "But this is about getting in and out quiet. No firefights."

"Right, because stealth missions should totally go to Mr. Shoot-Everything-From-A-Mile-Away instead of, oh, I don't know, the actual Chief of Stealth?" V's voice drips sarcasm.

"V." JM's cuts in. "Enough."

V grunts but actually shuts up, which is kind of impressive. You've never seen anyone else get him to back down that easily.

Flower leans forward, and the room suddenly feels a bit colder. The map spread out on the table looks like some kind of twisted treasure map, except instead of X marking the spot, there's about fifty different ways this whole thing could go wrong.

"Alright, here's the deal," she says, getting straight to the point like always. "You need to be interesting enough to catch their attention, but not so interesting they get suspicious. Think you can handle that?"

She looks right at you, and you can feel the weight of what she's asking.

"Y/N, you're our front person here. While everyone's busy watching you sweet-talk them about money and deals, Jeon's gonna be doing the actual work." Her lips curve into this knowing smile. "Keep them focused on the profit. Rich assholes love talking about money."

Great. No pressure or anything. Just gotta be charming enough to distract an entire criminal organization while your... whatever Jeon is sneaks around their base. Easy peasy.

Flower turns to Jeon next, and her expression goes all business.

"You're playing backup dancer on this one. Stay in the background, watch everything, and when AD hits them with that power surge? That's your window. Get the bug planted without anyone noticing."

The room goes quiet enough to hear a pin drop.

Everyone's thinking the same thing—one tiny mistake and this whole plan goes up in smoke.

"Remember," Flower says, voice serious, "this isn't about showing off. It's about getting in, getting it done, and getting out without anyone realizing what happened."

"And more importantly," RM cuts in, giving you and Jeon a look, "don't fucking die. The intel's not worth either of you."

"What about communication?" you ask, because there's one pretty big hole in this plan. "We can't exactly text each other in there."

"Subvocals," AD doesn't look up from his laptop, but his voice carries that bored confidence that means he knows exactly what he's talking about. "Basically fancy mics that pick up whispers. We'll hear everything, but you two can talk without anyone else noticing. Plus, we'll feed you intel as we get it. Just keep it quiet and you'll be fine."

V lets out this little laugh, eyes twinkling like he knows something no one else does. "Sure putting a lot of faith in luck here, aren't we?"

"Luck's got nothing to do with it." RM's interjects. "This is about being prepared, being skilled, and getting shit done. Don't forget who we are. What Kkangpae stands for."

The room goes quiet again. Then, he continues speaking:

"Once you get that bug planted and grab whatever intel you can, you get out. We're not starting a war. Not yet."

Then Jeon turns to look at you, all Chief-of-Tactical mode.

Stormy.

"We split up as soon as we're inside," he says, voice gone all hard and professional. "Cover more ground, draw less attention."

"Yeah, no." You don't even hesitate to shut that down. The plan's crystal clear in your head. "We stick together, follow the script. Only split when the power goes out. That's the signal."

He scoffs—actually scoffs—and crosses his arms. "You really think playing follow-the-leader's gonna work that long? We're wasting time the second we walk in. Better to improvise early."

"We're not there to improvise," you snap back, getting annoyed now. The air's starting to feel like a brewing thunderstorm. "We have a plan for a fucking reason, Jeon. The power surge is our cover. Until then, you're stuck with me."

His jaw does that tightening thing it does when someone challenges him.

Chief or not, you're not backing down on this.

"A package deal that screams 'we're obviously here to fuck shit up'." He's practically radiating frustration. "Splitting up makes more sense. It's tactical."

"It's reckless," you cut in, meeting his intensity head-on. "Since when do we pick 'making sense' over actually being smart about this? We split up before the power cut, and we're basically painting targets on our backs."

You can feel everyone in the room watching this verbal sparring match in slight disbelief.

"You're not fucking listening—" Jeon leans into your space.

"Because what you're saying is bullshit," you snap back, refusing to be intimidated even though he's practically looming over you. "We go in toge—"

"Too risky. We split up, maximize our—"

"—chances of getting our asses caught!" You talk right over him, blood rushing hot in your veins. "We stick to the fucking pla—"

"Which is basically asking to get pinched if we're joined at the hip," he fires back, and god, his voice shouldn't sound that hot when he's being this infuriating.

"Oh, and you think going rogue is the ans—"

"It's called thinking on your feet, sunshine. Maybe try it some—"

"Save the condescending shit," you cut in, sharp enough to draw blood. "We're not there to show—"

"—that we're fucking amateurs!" He's almost growling now, and the sound does things to you that you really don't want to examine.

Your voices keep rising, cutting each other off in this heated back-and-forth that's starting to feel less like an argument and more like foreplay.

"Enough." RM's voice drops like a bucket of cold water.

You and Jeon both shut up instantly, turning to face him like scolded kids.

The whole room goes dead quiet, everyone waiting to see how the Supreme Commander's going to handle this.

"Y/N's right," RM cuts in, voice carrying that don't-fuck-with-me tone whilst his eyes bounce between you and Jeon as he speaks. "We made this plan accounting for every possible fuck-up. You go in together, no improvising. The power surge is your cue. Until then, you're just a couple of traders looking to make a deal. We can't afford any slip-ups."

The way he says it leaves no room for argument. You can see Jeon's shoulders drop just a tiny bit, like he's accepting defeat but doesn't want to show it.

"Got it," you nod, trying to look all professional and shit.

Like you didn't just get into a verbal sparring match with your Chief in front of the whole Council.

Jeon takes a second, then gives this little nod that looks like it physically pains him.

"Understood," he echoes, finally looking at you.

And so there’s this weird moment where you're both just... staring at each other; as if calling a truce without actually saying anything.

As RM dismisses everyone, you feel that rush of adrenaline from arguing start to fade. Your shoulders relax, and you let out a breath you didn't even know you were holding.

Right. This whole mission is riding on you and Jeon not fucking it up by going off-script.

You can feel Jeon next to you, his whole vibe changing. He's still got that unreadable expression, but he doesn't look ready to fight anymore.

Before you can make your grand exit, Jessi's voice cuts through the room, making both of you plant your feet on the ground.

"Don't worry, you two. All that sexual tension will make for some hot angry fucking after the mission." She winks at you both like she just said something clever instead of mortifying.

"That's not—we're not—" You start sputtering like an idiot, feeling your face go red.

"Ridiculous," Jeon snaps at the same time, scowling like Jessi just insulted his sniper skills or something.

Jessi just smirks, looking way too pleased with herself. "Whatever you say, lovebirds. Just come by my division after lunch. Gotta get you kitted out for this little adventure."

You open your mouth to tell her exactly where she can shove her assumptions, but she keeps talking.

"AD's gonna set up your access, so don't be late!" And with that, she struts out of the room like she owns the place.

You take a deep breath, trying to get your shit together.

Without a word, you and Jeon turn to leave.

There's still a ton of prep to do for this mission, and you'd rather face MDF unarmed than spend another second in this room with everyone's eyes on you.

The elevator feels way too empty when it’s only you and Jeon in it.

Trapped in a metal box after whatever that disaster of a Council meeting was.

The silence feels heavy, like all that heated arguing is still buzzing in the air.

You stand there trying to look casual, watching the floor numbers tick down like they're the most interesting thing you've ever seen.

But you can't help noticing how Jeon's jaw is doing that clenching thing again, his lips pressed together so tight they're practically disappearing. His hands are shoved deep in his pockets, and his whole body's radiating tension like a coiled spring.

The silence is driving you insane.

So of course, before your brain can stop your mouth, you blurt out: "Just so we're clear, we are not having hot angry sex after this mission."

Great going girl. 10/10.

Jeon's head snaps toward you so fast you're worried he might get whiplash. One eyebrow shoots up in surprise, but then—oh—his expression shifts into that infuriating smirk.

"Aw, you sound disappointed," he says, voice dropping into that low, teasing register that definitely doesn't make your stomach flip.

You scoff, rolling your eyes as dramatically as possible. "Yeah, like I was last night."

"Excuse me?" The look of pure indignation on his face is actually priceless. "Pretty sure I had you begging."

"Begging?" You let out a laugh. "More like pointing out how fucking slow you were being."

You're going for casual disinterest, but the memories from last night keep trying to make your face heat up.

He actually laughs at that—this sharp, sudden sound that bounces off the elevator walls.

"Oh, is that what we're calling it now? Because I remember it more like... payback. For all that teasing." His eyes drop to your ass for a second. "Bending over until I couldn't take it anymore..."

You cross your arms, leaning back against the wall like this conversation isn't affecting you at all.

"That wasn't teasing. That was strategic mission preparation." You can't help the sly smile that creeps onto your face. "Besides, you're the one who changed the sleeping arrangement to fucking."

"A strategic move, huh?" His mouth does that little twitch that means he's trying not to smile. "Well, it fucking worked."

"Yeah, you broke so easily." You roll your eyes, but you can feel yourself starting to smile too. "Just for sex"

"Pretty damn good sex, if I might add." He says it like he's stating the weather, but that smirk is getting bigger.

Before you can even process what's happening, his hand shoots out to the elevator panel. The emergency stop button makes this loud clicking sound, and the whole thing jerks to a halt with this deep rumble that you feel in your bones.

Suddenly the space feels way too small, and all you can hear is your own breathing getting heavier.

Yeah. Yeah, he’s stopped the fucking elevator.

"What the actual fuck, Jeon?" You try to sound annoyed, but the words get stuck in your throat because he's moving into your space like he owns it, like he has every right to be this close.

Then you're trapped between his arms and the cold elevator wall, and fuck—the way he's looking at you makes you feel naked already.

Your heart's going crazy in your chest, completely betraying how irritated you're pretending to be. Heat starts pooling between your legs, and it's honestly embarrassing how quickly your body responds to him.

"We can't—" Your voice comes out all breathy and pathetic. "We can't do this here."

The smile he gives you is pure sin as he leans in closer, close enough that you can feel his breath on your skin, static wrapping around you, making it hard to think straight.

"Why not?"

"Because we're in a fucking elevator—"

"No cameras." He cuts you off like he's been waiting for this excuse.

You try to swallow but your throat's gone dry. Your sling feels itchy against your skin, probably because your whole body's remembering what happened last night.

"People are gonna notice if the elevator's stuck—"

"Maintenance issue." He says it so fast you know he's thought about this before.

"Jeon—" You start to argue, but then his eyes drop to your mouth and your brain just... stops working.

You know you should push him away. That's what any sane person would do. But there's something about Jeon that makes your brain stop working right—like a magnet pulling you in no matter how hard you try to resist. Every cell in your body is screaming at you to just grab him and kiss him already.

Right when you're about to say fuck it and give in, he pulls back.

And the look in his eyes? Pure evil, like he knows exactly what he's doing to you.

"Sunshine," he practically purrs, voice gone all low and rough in a way that makes heat pool in your stomach, "you're too eager."

The elevator dings, saving you from doing something stupid.

He steps out onto his floor without another word, that infuriating smirk still plastered on his face like he just won something.

You slump against the wall the second the doors close, letting out this huge breath you didn't even realize you were holding

As the elevator keeps moving, the whole thing feels kind of surreal—like maybe you imagined him pressing you up against the wall and looking at you like he wanted to eat you alive.

But the way your skin's still tingling tells you it definitely happened.

When the doors open on your floor, it's like stepping back into the real world.

One where you need to figure out what the hell to tell Yunjin about where you've been all night. She's way too perceptive for her own good, and she definitely noticed you didn't come to your room to sleep.

You walk to your room trying to come up with something believable.

Maybe you were up all night studying mission plans? Or got restless and went wandering around the common areas?

Your brain's still kind of fuzzy from having Jeon all up in your space, which isn't helping with the whole creative lying thing.

But when you push open your door, Yunjin spins around like she's been caught doing something wrong. Her eyes are all wide and guilty, and before you can even open your mouth to make up some excuse about where you've been, she starts talking.

"Okay, before you give me shit for not sleeping here last night—" The words come tumbling out of her like she can't get them out fast enough. "You won't believe what happened. I was just gonna have a few drinks with V, you know, just to chill..."

Well. You surely didn't expect that.

You stand there trying to process the flood of information Yunjin's dumping on you. She's so caught up in her story she doesn't even notice your brain short-circuiting.

"And I know we said to stay away from V's whole... thing, but fuck—" She's practically vibrating with excitement. "We've been dancing around each other for weeks, and last night was just—"

"Yunjin, hold up." You raise a hand to stop her word-vomit. "Are you telling me you spent the night with V? Like, you and V actually—"

You don't finish the sentence because honestly, you don't need to. The implication is heavy enough to sink a ship.

She bites her lip and nods, looking somewhere between guilty and smug.

"Yeah, we fucked..." Her voice trails off before picking right back up. "And let me tell you, it was good. Like, he's not even into all that scary shit everyone thinks he is? But his chaotic energy definitely carries over to bed, god, if you only knew—"

You can't help the snort spreading across your face.

Here you were worrying about how to explain your own night away, and Yunjin's gone and done the exact same thing.

There's something kind of poetic about both of you getting tangled up with people you definitely shouldn't be touching.

A laugh bubbles up in your throat. "Okay, spare me the details. But I'm glad you had fun with your psychopath."

"It was actually really nice?" She's got this dreamy look that would be cute if she wasn't talking about the gang's resident knife enthusiast. "I know we said getting involved with him was a bad idea, but..."

She shrugs, looking almost shy.

"Sometimes you can't help who you want to climb like a tree."

You nod because fuck—isn't that the truth? Your body's still kind of sore from climbing your own dangerous tree last night.

Quick thinking has you saying, "I had an early Council meeting about the mission."

It's not exactly a lie. You did have a meeting. The fact that you came straight from Jeon's bed to it is just... details.

Yunjin seems to buy it, but then her eyes narrow and this little smirk appears on her face.

"Speaking of details... that shirt looks a bit big on you." She eyes the obviously oversized fabric. "Almost like it belongs to someone else. Someone tall, maybe? Tattooed?"

Heat creeps up your neck as you tug at the shirt that definitely belongs to Jeon.

"It's just comfortable," you mutter, but even you don't believe that weak excuse.

"Sure it is." Yunjin's laugh is rather a sneer. "Tell Jeon I said hi."

She throws you a wink and you roll your eyes, but you can't quite fight the smile tugging at your lips.

At least you're not the only one fucking a chief.

The scanner actually flashes green when you swipe your card, which is weird.

Usually you only get access to the Seduction floor and common areas, but apparently Jessi wasn't kidding about AD setting up clearance to her realm for you.

You hit the button for the 9th floor and watch the numbers tick up.

The doors slide open to a completely different vibe from what you're used to.

Gone is all that minimalist tech stuff from AD's floor or the sterile efficiency of Assassination.

The Weapons Division looks exactly like what it is—a place that deals in death. The lights are dim, pipes running everywhere like exposed veins, and the floor's just straight-up concrete. No fancy finishes here.

You've maybe been here like, three times? And every visit feels like stepping into some alternate universe inside Kkangpae's castle. The contrast between this and your division's sleek aesthetic is wild.

"Well, well, look who we have here!"

The voice booms through the hallway, making you jump.

You turn to find this huge guy with a green mullet heading your way, covered in neck tattoos that probably tell some interesting stories. You're pretty sure his name is Jae? He's Jessi's second-in-command, but you've barely exchanged two words with him before.

Not that you'd know it from how he grins at you like you're old friends.

"Jessi's waiting on you," he says, slapping your back hard enough to make you stumble forward. (What is it with these Weapons Division people and casual violence?) "Come on, can't keep the boss lady hanging."

You follow Mullet Man through these massive double doors and holy shit—the weapons depot is huge. The ceiling's so high it's got actual walkways crisscrossing it, leading to what looks like storage units. Every table is packed with enough firepower to start a small war: rifles, handguns, knives, stuff you don't even have names for.

Jessi's off to one side, checking out this fancy-looking automatic rifle like she's shopping for groceries. Her fiery aura fills the space with heating energy.

When she spots you, those red lips curl into this knowing smirk that makes you kind of nervous.

"Right on time," she says, putting down the gun like it's no big deal. "Now we just gotta wait for lover boy to complete the set."

Jae throws up this exaggerated salute and swaggers off, leaving you perched on a nearby stool while Jessi's aura dances around like actual flames.

Jessi leans back against one of the weapon-covered tables, arms crossed and this knowing look in her eyes that makes you kind of nervous.

"That was quite the show this morning. Never seen Jeon actually engage like that before."

"What do you mean?" You frown, thinking about how often Jeon and V are at each other's throats. "He fights with V all the time."

"Nah, that's different." She shakes her head, red hair swaying. "When he fights with V, it's all explosions and death threats. Pure chaos."

Her hands make this exaggerated boom motion.

"But this morning? That was like... verbal foreplay. He was actually in there with you, giving as good as he got."

You think about that for a second.

Now that she mentions it, Jeon does usually just... shut down when other people try to argue with him. Goes all cold and distant, like he can't be bothered to even engage.

But this morning he was right there with you, matching your energy blow for blow.

"Huh." The realization hits you harder than it probably should. "He's not usually much for back-and-forth, is he?"

"That's what I'm saying!" Jessi looks way too pleased with herself. "That emotionally constipated asshole usually keeps everyone at a distance. But you?" She wiggles her eyebrows in this ridiculous way. "Something's different..."

Your face heats up because fuck—she's not wrong. But you are absolutely not having this conversation right now.

"So anyway," you say quickly, probably not as smooth as you think, "what kind of gear are we talking about here?"

Jessi's smirk says she knows exactly what you're doing, but she lets it slide.

Instead, she turns to this impressive spread of weapons and gadgets laid out on the table. Some of them look deadly enough to make you nervous just looking at them.

"Only the best for our star infiltration team," she says, sounding like a proud mom showing off her kid's artwork. "Let's talk comm units first..."

Then, you catch it.

That woodsy, pine scent that clings to him like his leather jacket.

You don’t even need to turn around to know it’s him.

Jeon appears in the doorway looking unfairly good in his all-black everything, like some kind of high-fashion assassin.

When his eyes find you and Jessi, one eyebrow goes up.

"Starting without me?" His voice is dry as desert.

"Look who finally decided to show up." Jessi's teasing, but then her expression turns into something more devious. "I was just telling your partner here how I've never seen you get so fired up before. Something about her really pushes your buttons, huh?"

You kind of want to melt into the concrete floor. Leave it to Jessi to stir shit up just because she can.

But Jeon just shrugs, cool as ever.

"Just discussing strategy." His voice gives absolutely nothing away, which is honestly impressive considering how heated he got earlier.

Jessi looks kind of disappointed that she couldn't get a reaction out of him. Classic Jeon, refusing to take the bait. She lets out this dramatic sigh and turns back to all the gear spread out on the table.

"Well, now that his highness has graced us with his presence," she says, standing up with that natural grace she has, "let's get you both looking the part. Can't have you walking into MDF territory looking like gang members, can we?"

You follow her through the rows of weapons and equipment. It's kind of amazing how she knows exactly where everything is in this massive space. Her energy is contagious—she's clearly in her element here, surrounded by all these tools of destruction.

The weapons depot starts feeling less like an armory and more like some underground fashion studio as you walk deeper in.

Because of course, procurement doesn’t only mean weapons and human resource.

Apparently, it also means Jessi has a pass to turn a room full of deadly weapons into her personal styling space.

There's this sectioned-off area that looks like a makeshift dressing room, complete with different fabrics hanging everywhere.

"Over here, Jeon." Jessi's voice has that tone that means she's already planning something. She looks him up and down like she's mentally redesigning his whole outfit.

Jeon follows her, trying to look like he's not into it, but you can see the interest in his eyes. You hang back a bit, kind of enjoying watching him get the Jessi treatment.

Jessi starts pulling stuff from these racks that look like someone couldn't decide if they were making tactical gear or runway fashion. Every piece somehow manages to be both bulletproof and stupidly stylish.

First up for Jeon: this black suit that catches the light in a way that's definitely not standard issue.

"Put this on," she tells him, shoving the suit in his hands. "It's reinforced—won't stop a bullet, but a knife won't get through."

He disappears behind this makeshift changing screen, and you're definitely not counting the seconds until he comes back out.

When he does, though... fuck.

The suit fits him like it was painted on, showing off all those muscles you're way too familiar with now. The jacket makes his shoulders look even broader, and the pants are doing criminal things to his legs. He looks like he walked straight out of some high-end assassin movie.

"You could probably kill someone just by walking into a room looking like that," you say before you can stop yourself. Your voice definitely doesn't sound as casual as you meant it to.

The smug bastard actually smirks at that. "Wouldn't be the first time."

But Jessi's not having it. She shakes her head, looking at him like an artist who's not quite happy with their work.

"Too polished. We need dangerous, not James Bond. Try this instead."

She pulls out this whole new look: leather jacket that probably costs more than anything you own (which is not much), deep maroon shirt that's somehow both simple and expensive-looking, and black jeans that you just know are going to be trouble.

When he steps out this time, his whole aura shifts.

The leather sits on his shoulders like it belongs there, and that hint of maroon under all the black just... works.

He looks like someone who could sweet-talk his way into a deal and then burn the whole place down if it goes wrong.

"Now that's more like it," Jessi says, looking satisfied. "Says 'I do business, but I also do crime' in all the right ways."

You find yourself nodding along because damn.

He looks exactly like what a high-level arms dealer should look—dangerous enough to take seriously, stylish enough to have clearly made money doing it.

Jeon catches you staring and raises an eyebrow, like he's asking what you think. You give him a small nod because what else can you do? He looks f̶u̶c̶k̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶h̶o̶t̶ good.

Really good.

Jessi rummages through another rack and pulls out this long-sleeved black shirt.

"Here, put this under the jacket. The fabric's breathable but bulletproof-adjacent. Won't stop a direct hit, but it'll give you a fighting chance."

Jeon shrugs off the leather jacket and slips the shirt on. It's thin but looks sturdy—perfect for someone who might need to move fast or fight their way out of trouble.

Jessi finally steps back, eyeing him like she's inspecting a weapon.

"Not bad. Looks casual enough that no one'll think twice, but you can actually move in it." She hands him back the leather jacket. "Try it all together."

You try to look professional while he puts the jacket back on over the maroon shirt and black base layer, but fuck—the whole ensemble is perfect.

The layers somehow make him look even more dangerous, like he could either charm you or kill you and you wouldn't know which until it was too late.

While Jeon and Jessi get into some deep discussion about fabric weights and mobility ranges, you're kind of amazed at how much thought goes into this.

It's not just picking out nice clothes—every piece has to tell the right story without saying a word.

One wrong detail and the whole cover's blown.

The attention to detail is actually impressive. Jessi knows exactly how to make someone look dangerous but approachable, wealthy but not flashy.

In this world, the wrong outfit can get you killed as quick as the wrong word.

You watch them fine-tune every detail, fascinated by how each adjustment shapes the character Jeon's going to play. And then… The final touch.This plain black watch that probably has fifteen different ways to kill someone. Jeon checks it over with that focused look he gets when he's handling weapons.

"Nice," is all he says, strapping it on.

Standing there in his perfectly crafted outfit, Jeon looks like he was born to play this role. Then Jessi turns to you with this wicked gleam in her eyes that makes your stomach drop.

"Your turn, beautiful," she says, gesturing at another rack of clothes. "Let's make you look expensive but deadly."

Something tells you this is going to be way more complicated than just picking out a nice dress.

You step forward to check out what Jessi's picked out, and damn—she really knows what she's doing. Every piece looks like it was chosen to tell a specific story about who you're supposed to be for this mission.

First up is this skin-tight dress that practically screams ‘honey trap.’ Jessi takes one look and tosses it aside with a muttered "too fucking obvious."

Then there's this whole secretary fantasy thing with a high-necked blouse and pencil skirt, but that gets vetoed too. ("Can't fight for shit in that.")

Then she hands you this black button-up that feels expensive as hell, paired with these tailored pants that feel way too nice to the touch. The fabric's got that perfect balance—soft enough to feel good but sturdy enough to take a beating if things go south.

When you slip into it, something shifts. The shirt fits in all the right places, making you feel d̶a̶n̶g̶e̶r̶o̶u̶s̶ powerful. And the pants? They let you move like you might need to throw down at any second, which, considering it's MDF territory you're heading into, isn't exactly unlikely.

You step out to get Jessi's opinion.

And catch Jeon straight-up staring at your ass.

You’re not surprised.

When you meet his eyes, he looks away so fast it's actually kind of funny, pressing his lips together like he's trying not to smile. He looks like a kid who just got caught stealing cookies, and something about that expression makes you bite back a smile of your own.

"Now that's what I'm talking about," Jessi says, looking you over with that critical eye of hers. "You look like someone who could either make a deal or break some kneecaps. Perfect."

The outfit's actually making you feel kind of invincible. (The fact that it got Mr. Perfect Sniper all flustered doesn't hurt either.) You do a little turn, testing how it moves. Everything feels right—professional enough to be taken seriously, but with enough edge to remind people you're not someone to fuck with.

"Hold up," Jessi says suddenly, her eyes getting that dangerous glint that usually means trouble. "Got one more thing. Don't move."

She strides off into her weapons paradise, leaving you standing there wondering what else she could possibly have planned.

You definitely don't check if Jeon's still watching.

(Okay, that's a lie. You totally do.)

The button-up fits you like it was made for you—professional enough to command respect but with just enough something to make heads turn. You're fiddling with the collar when you notice it's buttoned kind of low. Like, maybe too low for a serious arms deal. But before you can decide whether to fix it, Jeon's suddenly right there in your space.

"Let me," he says, voice gone all low and rough (molten lava in your stomach)

His fingers brush against your skin as he does up that one button over your chest, and fuck—that tiny touch has your brain stuttering a bit.

Probably because your body remembers what those fingers can do.

When you look up at him (because of course he's using his height to loom over you like the smug bastard he is), his eyes are dark enough to drown in.

The little gleam swimming in them tells you he knows exactly what he's doing.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" you say, trying to sound annoyed even though you can feel yourself starting to smile.

"Immensely." He says; and his voice is pure sin wrapped in amusement.

He just keeps staring at you with this intensity that makes it hard to breathe, like he's thinking about all the ways he could mess up your perfectly put-together outfit.

Then Jessi bursts back in, completely ruining the moment.

"Found it!" She's waving around this black blazer like she just discovered buried treasure.

Jeon steps back, but not before giving you one last look that promises later. That little smirk is still playing on his lips as Jessi throws the blazer over your shoulders like she's putting the final touch on a masterpiece.

While Jessi goes over the tech specs of your gear, you sneak another look at Jeon. That heated playfulness from earlier is gone, replaced by that laser-focused look he gets when he's in Chief mode.

But there's still this... tension hanging in the air between you, like neither of you has quite forgotten what almost happened in that elevator.

Jessi then looks you both up and down with this satisfied smirk, like an artist admiring her masterpiece.

You have to admit, she knows what she's doing—the outfits are perfect for your cover, walking that line between dangerous and professional.

"Now for the fun part," she says, suddenly all business. "Let's get you two properly armed."

She leads you deeper into her weapons paradise, stopping at what looks like a plain wall. But when she presses her hand against this hidden scanner, the whole thing comes alive with soft beeps and whirs. A keypad appears, and Jessi punches in some code faster than you can follow.

The wall basically transforms, splitting open to reveal these massive hidden cabinets that look straight out of a spy movie.

Inside is enough firepower to start (or end) a small war, all arranged with the kind of precision that would make Jeon proud.

You've seen weapons before—kind of comes with the whole gang thing—but this is different.

Every gun, knife, and thing-you-don't-even-have-a-name-for gleams under the lights like they're on display in some very deadly museum.

"For when things get up close and personal," Jessi says, picking up this compact black handgun, "you'll want this beauty."

She hands you a Glock 26, and fuck—it's heavier than it looks.

"Small enough to hide, big enough to make someone regret their life choices."

Then she turns to Jeon with a different gun. "You get the Sig P226. More range, more punch. You can hang back and give her cover while she works her magic up close."

Jeon takes the gun and with a flick of his wrist, he expertly checks the chamber and magazine. You can't understand why your brain thinks that's hot, but the little nod he gives tells you Jessi picked right.

She keeps pulling out more gear—silencers that look way too professional, extra magazines, these holsters that probably cost more than your monthly pay. Then come the knives, small enough to hide pretty much anywhere but sharp enough to make you nervous just looking at them.

Jessi's whole vibe changes as she finishes arming you up. "These aren't just fancy accessories. Every time you pull one of these, you're making a choice that could end someone—maybe even yourself."

The weight of what she's saying hits different when you're actually holding deadly weapons. Her eyes lock onto yours, and you can tell she's trusting you not to fuck this up.

"One more thing," she says, pulling this fancy-looking gadget from a drawer. "Multi-tool kit. Has everything from basic lock picks to a mini torch. Trust me, you'll want options when shit hits the fan."

She hands it to Jeon, who clips it to his belt with practiced ease. (Of course he knows exactly what to do with it—guy probably has a whole collection of spy gear at home.)

Jessi takes a step back, giving you both this final once-over that feels kind of like a proud mom sending her kids off to prom.

(If prom involved infiltrating a rival gang's hideout.)

"You're good to go. Just remember—get in, do the job, get out. Don't try to be heroes."

Her words stick with you as you follow her out of the weapons room.

You walk through another set of doors to find a…

Holy shit. The garage is massive.

It's like walking into some billionaire's private car collection, except every vehicle probably has hidden gun compartments or something.

So Jessi's definitely got a thing for cars. There's everything from flashy Lamborghinis to those huge Bentleys that scream ‘I’m rich and probably dangerous.’ Motorcycles, sports cars, even some vehicles that look straight-up bulletproof—all lined up like some very deadly candy shop.

You're starting to think maybe the weapons aren't even Jessi's favorite toys.

Jessi leads you through her collection of cars like a proud mom showing off her kids' trophies. She stops at this black Lamborghini that looks expensive enough to make your eyes water. The lights bounce off its surface like it's made of pure money.

"This baby right here?" She runs her hand over the hood like she's petting a cat. "Zero to sixty in 2.8 seconds. Makes people's heads turn so fast they get whiplash."

Then she drags you over to this Bentley that screams old money.

"And this beauty? When you need people to think you've got more dollars than sense." The inside looks like someone skinned a whole herd of very expensive cows and covered it in fancy wood.

"We're taking my bike."

Jeon's voice cuts through Jessi's car tour sharply.

He says it like it's already decided, which—knowing him—it probably is.

Jessi whips around to look at him, and fuck—her fiery aura actually flares up like she's about to burst into flames.

"Are you kidding me? Look at these beauties!" She waves at her collection. "They're begging for some action!"

But Jeon just shakes his head. "Bike's more maneuverable. Better control. Makes more sense for what we need."

"Ugh, fine." Jessi throws one last longing look at the Lamborghini like she's saying goodbye to a child. "But I swear to god, one of these days I'm getting your ass in one of these cars."

The little smirk Jeon gives her actually looks kind of fond. "Keep dreaming."

So you follow him to another part of the garage where his bike's parked.

It's this sleek, black monster of a machine that somehow manages to look both subtle and dangerous—kind of like its owner. The thing practically radiates power, but in that quiet way that says it doesn't need to show off.

Jessi watches Jeon check over the bike with this resigned look.

He runs his hands over the handlebars, checking everything with the kind of attention to detail you'd expect from someone who regularly makes impossible shots from a mile away.

"At least you take care of my presents," she mutters, but there's no real heat in it.

Jeon just nods, swinging his leg over the bike like he was born to ride it. When he turns to look at you, his face has gone all serious again.

"You good?"

You nod, feeling your heart start picking up speed.

This is really happening.

Jessi steps back, smiles, and then just waves you two off, not before adding something else.

"Watch your asses out there. And remember—you need backup, we're just a call away."

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[eraserbread]

suguru is so nice to u until u interrupt his meeting :( now he has to punish u in front of his husband, satoru. or, you and geto's pov from this drabble

check out parts 1. 2. 3. 4.

"just give me an hour, dear! i'll be with you so soon, I just have this meeting-

if you didn't stop him now, suguru would go on and on, assuming you're mad at him. you shake off his worry, giving him a sweet smile as you lounge back on their huge sectional. if you can help it, you always choose to do schoolwork at their house. i mean, come on, if satoru isn't here, all of his textbooks and cheat sheets from years of work are.

"I have this... exam to study for, just take your time."

he's leaning out of his office door down the hall, hair pinned back in a professional twist. you love him like this -- especially when his bangs are out. your brain loses all function when he looks at you with a gaze so packed full of admiration.

"you need anything at all, don't hesitate, okay? let me know."

"'m okay, geto-kun." you've caught yourself latching onto gojo's horny nicknames, but you admit he has a knack for them. in their presence, you're never called by your name. it's always some random love-licked phrase -- ducky was a current favorite of satoru's. suguru is mainly happy calling you his baby and referring to you as 'dear' like always. he's a man of habit, and you're blessed to be one of them.

"alright!" like a whack-a-mole, he disappears quickly behind the door, and you can hear him beginning to talk shortly after. he keeps his door open so you always feel comfortable to rush to him if need be. and, he kinda wants you to. this is his meeting after all, he chose this time and he could reschedule if you asked him just right.

while suguru goes on and on about inflation and property costs nonsense, you turn back to your textbook, balancing a highlighter between your teeth as you skim the same paragraph over and over again. seems like everytime you read it, your brain short circuits and deletes all information about the topic. cruel. your exam was literally next week.

right now, you were studying for your life science course, and though satoru taught chemistry, he's bounced around enough subjects to have ample cheating material. only issue is, satoru and suguru share an office, and suguru is knee-deep in a meeting, currently.

you'd have to be a bother, but you were okay with that.

suguru's smooth voice gets louder as you stand and walk down the hall. you're not too worried about being seen on camera, but you are wearing scandalously short shorts. now, it's just a habit whenever you visit your men. they like to look at you and you were happy to oblige, once more.

"mhm, and that's just the unfortunate truth about living in the city... those house insurance prices..." suguru drones, using his crossed hands as a chin rest over his desk. peeking in through the door, you can see he's in a space with about four or five other people. hell, it's better than twenty.

"and that's true for a lot of us, here-

"sugu..!" you whisper, peeking your head through the door. Immediately he whips his head, eyes wide in worry.

"yes?"

"no- i'm okay, i just." you creak the door further, stepping one foot inside the drafty room. "need to steal some of satoru's textbooks. they're behind you. the camera."

suguru turns around in his office chair, eyeing the insane shelf of books he's looked at for years. its only when you entered their life, did they finally serve a purpose. he nods. "which do you need? I'll grab them."

you take a few steps in the room, assuming his microphone is muted if he's speaking so openly. "life science? anything with bio, honestly. shit is impossible."

"i'm curious to see how much life science a writer will have to utilize." he laughs to himself, smiling as he combs the shelf for anything of the sort. it's true, his husband stock piles on books and material for a rainy day.

"stupid electives. oh, look." you get far too excited when you see it -- a hardcover bound book with 'Science: The Study of Life in All of It's Forms.' on the third shelf from the top. you point it out to suguru, but he's squinting in vain. "third shelf up, sugu."

"aha. gotcha." suguru stands on his toes, reaching up to retrieve the textbook and hand it off to you perfectly out of camera-shot. he's not too worried about his colleagues seeing you, but he's worried about them seeing you like this -- clothed loosely. you can respect his wishes. "go on now, dear."

"yes, sir." you scrape your teeth over your bottom lip as you give him a goodbye look, slipping back out through the door.

you only get a few chapters deep before you're bored and pining again. suguru was still in his meeting, and you really wish you were keeping track of time so you knew when satoru was due to be back.

you stand from your warm spot to take the book back, walking slowly to make sure he's still in the meeting before creaking the door open again. you definitely can wait for him to be done to put it back, but you're bored. suguru is free entertainment - what can you say?

suguru doesn't notice you at first. he's too busy nodding along to whatever gibberish another is spewing. you could call his name, but you didn't want to be too annoying, so you leave the book by the door and drop to your knees.

"yep. it's actually a great idea, once we head into this second quarter that will definitely be a factor." suguru continues, completely oblivious to your stalking. you're on all fours, trying your best to keep your head down as you approach him.

"sugu, i'm so bored."

poor suguru -- he almost jumps out of his skin. "fuck..!" then he curses again when he realizes he's in fact not muted.

"geto-kunnnn, please?"

suguru is flustered as hell trying to mute himself and flip his camera off. tomorrow he will push it off on technical difficulties, but nobody truly would give a damn. it's just a formality thing.

he tries his hardest to come off authoritative with you, but he's just flushed and embarrassed. doesn't help that you were sitting at his feet like the perfect little clingy pet.

"please, what?"

"i'm so fucking bored."

"why is that my issue?" suguru's voice dips a tone lower once he reads your energy. i mean, you're at his fucking feet sitting so pretty and patient. he loves when you look up at him and those innocent eyes widen. god, he's just obsessed with you.

he brings a hand down to pet over your face, tracing your lips against his fingertips. his breath catches in his throat as you part your lips, swirling your tongue across his pointer.

"fuck."

"you have something i want."

"yeah? yeah, you just stay just like that..." he mumbles, guts swimming with pleasure as he digs in his back pocket for his shiny black phone. "take my fucking fingers, baby. pretend like 's my cock you're kissing."

"mm, sugu..." his pillow talk is always the best and his flips it on and off so well. he could be calling you a beautiful angel at one moment, then flipping it and calling you his cock slut. there's truly no medium.

"...and pose real pretty for satoru."

suguru's pointing his phone over you, capturing the perfect lewd photo to send directly to satoru's phone. it takes less than a minute for his husband to respond in flustered messages, it draws a smile across his perfect face.

"somebody's a fan... personal request: pull her shirt up so I can see the goods. what a dork."

"it's like all you guys care about is seeing me naked."

"says the one sneaking into my office looking to get fucked." there's no buffer behind his words, he had you right where he wanted you.

vaguely, he can hear the sound of the meeting continuing, but doesn't listen. it's impossible to do anything when you're staring at him with wet lips and needy eyes.

"fuck, are you fucking kidding me? so fucking pretty." he's growling, shifting in his seat uncomfortably as he reaches down to slide his arm under the hem of your shirt, large hand coming out of the neckline to choke you softly. you bare your neck completely for him, shivering as the coolness of his hands take over your entire nervous system. now, you're cold to the touch, and you wanted suguru to warm you up.

instead, he snaps another set of photos, sending them to satoru before tossing his phone to the side. he had a mind to fuck you up. in the nicest, suguru geto way possible. but, there was no nice way to describe what he'd do to you. he wants to turn your ass a burning red before stuffing it full of him.

yeah... that'll do just fine. but, first. he actually leaves his meeting. one cuss word wasn't damaging, but fucking his girlfriend in front of some of the richest realtors in the city wasn't a good idea.

once he presses that 'leave meeting' button, he's dragging you to your feet by the hold he has on your neck. you're already a whining mess for him, trying to catch your footing as he throws you over his lap.

suguru's always been the more gentler one of the two, though looks can be deceiving. satoru was a freak, suguru was just happy to be there to deal with it. but, when they're apart, suguru fills that freaky role just enough to keep you interested.

"gonna make this ass nice and red and give satoru a good shot." he mumbles, large palm massaging over your clothed ass. your shorts were too tight to wiggle off, suguru would actually have to peel them off of you, but he had other intentions.

"w-why?" you whine, standing on the tips of your toes to accommodate his height. "you said to come to you if I needed anything."

"i meant actual, important things. like... hey sugu, where's the pasta? i'd love to make you a meal."

"shoulda told me you were hungry-

"yeah, well now my meal is laid out on my lap." he places a little experimental slap to your ass, watching as you mewl and arch your back. the sight makes him lick his lips. he's so oblivious to the constant string of texts lighting up his phone because you're so damn intoxicating. "uh, tell me if it's to-

"just do it." you whine through clamped teeth, digging your fingers in the thickness of his right thigh. he finally slides his hand between the fabric of your shorts, giving them a few good tugs until they're tight around your knees.

"god, you're already so wet. gonna stain my pants." he growls, dipping his fingers between your cheeks and through your wetness. it's so humiliating, you bury your face deeper into your arm. you don't know why you get like this alone with suguru -- you just want to impress him, to give him an out of body experience. with satoru, its easier to balance out, and you don't have to worry about saying something stupid, because satoru already has.

this was so much more than a crush or baseless lust.

"but, you're a damn menace."

then, it comes: a strong, full bodied slap erupts against your ass, the aftershocks ricocheting off the walls. he hits like a man, not bothering to hold back because he knows you've taken worse. your skin blooms a magnificent shade of red in his wake, just begging for more color from his hand.

so, he hits you again.

and again,

then, once more.

he doesn't even realize your toes are strained and your cheeks are damp, he's terrible at losing himself in the moment. satoru is useful in always bringing him back to reality.

yet, he carries on after a brief pause, sucking in a breath before laying a series of four -- two on each cheek, making you shriek and writhe against him.

you wish you could see his face staring down at you. you're wondering if this is taking as much a toll on him as it was for you. but, suguru is strong, and his self-control is frightening, so probably not. the most he'd likely do right now without satoru is touch you a bit and send you on your way so he can finish his work. but, you don't want that. you came in here for a reason -- craving alone time with suguru for once.

you didn't care if it got you spanked or tossed around; you just wanted to be at his sweet, sweet mercy.

he gives you no warning when he trails his fingers down between your cheeks, biting over his bottom lip as he plays with your clit softly. His touch is gentle, but it shocks you. you seethe out a moan, reaching for something to grab onto in your vicinity. There's nothing -- all you can do is cover your mouth and cry into them as two thick fingers press inside of you.

it makes you shudder, broken moans falling from your muffled lips. it takes him less than a minute to find his way around your body, using his thumb to keep your clit interested as he fondles your g-spot. fingering is one of those guilty pleasures of his -- he loves the way you feel inside, the way you shiver and heat him ten degrees. it's so hot, you're so hot.

"satoru's gonna come home and fuck you limp, i just know it."

"do-don't talk like that!"

"no?" he pouts, raising his eyebrows as he tucks a third finger alongside his two, watching how your darling face turns up in inexplicable pleasure. "you don't believe me?" he's teasing you so fucking hard, using that gorgeous ass tone of voice that tears you at the seams. he doesn't even realize the effect he has on you as he takes another photo, gasping at the results as he sends it to satoru.

you knew you'd be in a whirlwind of trouble once he gets home.

satoru comes home...