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jazzthatonewriterchick · 5 months ago

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MOST WANTED II (Sukuna x Self-Insert!Reader 18+ One Shot) [COMMISSION FILL]

READ PART I WITH MAFIA BOSS!TOJI HERE!

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“You’re mine tonight. And if you value your job and your life, you’d better do everything I say.”

Pairing: Ryomen Sukuna x Self-Insert!Reader

Synopsis: After your failed mission with Toji that ended in humiliation—and unwanted hot dreams—, you beg her boss to put you on the next one to bag Sukuna Ryomen, a famous criminal boss and gangster who is wanted for many murders and trafficking jewels. After you’re refused, you go undercover as an escort at a masquerade party to get Sukuna alone and take him in…whether dead or alive. Agreeing to go back with him to his hotel after drinks, flirting and a game of pool, you attempt to complete the mission, but not before Sukuna uncovers your secret and punishes you for lying to him. He’ll show you that nobody fucks with him. And that maybe you’re not as strong or tough as you think you are. Maybe, just maybe…you enjoy being a gangster’s plaything.

Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINORS GTFO); Self-Insert!Reader; Reader is Black, Fem & Plus-Sized; Flirting; Sexual Tension; Eye-Fucking; Escort!Reader; Agent!Reader; Action/Fighting; Noncon/R*pe; Dubcon; Handcuffs; Knife Play; Dirty Talk; Mask Kink; Daddy Kink; Degradation; Oral (Giving & Receiving); Facefucking; Choking; Slutification; Objectication; Mean Dom!Sukuna + sub!Reader; Doggystyle; Condescending Sweet Talk; Reader Cums 2x; Facial/Cum on Tits; No Aftercare

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer’s Note: Got another one for y’all & for my fave @curiouscutie143!! We plan on expanding my “Most Wanted” world, probably even to other characters in the future! I had so much fun writing this AND it’s my first ever Sukuna fic! I hope y’all enjoy reading about that mean ol’ nasty man lol. Kisses! 💋-Jazz

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You stand in your bathroom mirror, staring at the woman staring back at you who looks like she could use a drink, a good orgasm, and some sleep.

“What the fuck are you doing?” you ask the woman. She moves her mouth with yours as you speak in the empty bathroom with its tiled walls and hardwood floor. A folder holding your next target sits next to you, a label reading “CLASSIFIED” stamped across the front.

The sound of Friday night in the city—cars honking, someone blasting music from the apartment across from yours—fills the space of your studio apartment. Usually, you would use tonight to order a pizza, watch a movie, or go to the bar across the street to pick up a guy for the night. But tonight, you stand in the mirror in your night slip, hair and makeup already on, getting ready for a party. Not just any party. A masquerade ball. One that is crawling with all kinds of elite figures, celebrities, politicians, business owners…and gangsters.

One of which you have your eye on. You grab the file sitting next to your sink that is littered in traces of makeup, your curling iron sitting unplugged right next to it. You open it with trembling fingers, making it hard to turn the pages. Your anxiety is already taking over. “Stop it,” you mutter to yourself as you finally making it to your target’s photo. You snagged his file a week ago in n secrecy. You had flirted mad hard with one of the file clerks—geeky, unattractive, and painfully awkward—and gave him a hard-on in order to sneak by and get into the file room. It is imperative that your agency have such a room to keep track of your old and new targets.

Ryomen Sukuna is one of the new ones and at the top of your boss’ list in terms of most wanted people. Big in the crime world and well-known for being a “professional killer”, Sukuna is feared in his area of business….which is anything that has to do with crime. Most of his business is underground and unknown to the public, but your agency has been keeping tabs on him for months now ever since other high-demand crime bosses and crooked officials in the city started coming up dead.

According to your team’s findings, Sukuna’s operation stretches across Japan and overseas in New York and London. His men, who are just as devious and dangerous as him, usually do all of his dirty work, including smuggling items and taking out those who threaten Sukuna’s businesses.

But Sukuna isn’t afraid of getting his hands dirty either.

He delves into the areas of illegal drug-smuggling, gun trafficking, imported, exotic seafood, and, mostly recently, jewel smuggling. It seems that Sukuna is a man of history. When a recent thousand-year-old diamond went missing a month ago from a history museum in Tokyo, your boss already had a feeling that Sukuna was behind it. But when a crime boss known for his jewel smuggling wound up dead just a week ago, he knew that Sukuna was most definitely the culprit. The man is like a piranha in the crime world, taking out every other being he deems as weak or a threat to his survival.

But you knew you could get him, especially when you found out that he would be in your city for a masquerade ball to celebrate the presentation of a new line of art worth millions. You knew he was planning something. Possibly even a massacre of potential buyers.

”Let me get him,” you begged your boss. You stood in his office a week ago once the news of Sukuna broke, your hands on your boss’ desk. “I can do this, sir, I promise. I can take care of this for you with my kind of skill.”

Your boss sat behind his desk, looking haggard and exhausted from running such a lucrative company. “V, I already have two agents working on this case.”

“Who?” You asked, but it must’ve came out harsher than you intended because your boss looked at you in alarm. “I won’t disclose that information only because I don’t want you to have any negative feelings towards them as your partners.” You didn’t know what to say. All you could do was stare down at your hands that laid flat on the wooden surface of the desk. “Boss, I can do it,” you said, your voice soft and shaky. You hated sounding so weak.

“It’s not that I don’t think you can do it, V,” he said, his voice gentle but affirmative like a father. “I’m only looking out for your safety and best interest.”

“My best interest,” you scoffed, unable to swallow back your pride or bitterness. “You and I both know that this is about what happened with Toji. You think I can’t handle this just like I couldn’t handle him.”

Your boss looks away from you, staring at his much-needed cup of coffee instead. You feel all of the air rush out of your lungs as he confirms it without confirming it.

It has been five months since your ordeal with Toji Fushigiro. You haven’t caught wind of him since he left you in that strip club, covered in his cum and completely humiliated. The walk of shame back to your apartment after receiving medical attention and a week of paid absence was even worse.

You did nothing but stew in your apartment, filled with bitterness, humiliation, and revenge. You often had dreams of the crime boss, your plump body squeezed between his big arms and his muscular body on top of yours as he drove his cock into you. You would awaken in the night, sweating and your panties soaked in arousal from the flashes of that night.

Toji had ruined you, but he didn’t break you entirely. You knew that you could put the pieces back together and redeem yourself if you got on another mission, which is where Sukuna came in. If you could just convince your boss to put you on this case, you could show him, yourself, and everyone that you were stronger than the likes of Toji.

“Please, sir,” you begged. “What happened with Fushiguro will never happen again. I know what I’m doing. Have I ever failed you before?”

Your boss turned back to face you, his expression apologetic but firm. “V, it’s not that I don’t trust you,” he explains. “You’re the most overqualified agent and hit woman we have here…but what happened with Fushiguro was serious. Your health and safety was seriously threatened.” He pauses, biting his tongue. “What is it?” you pushed, your heart hammering in your chest.

He ran a hand through his graying hair, sighing to himself. “We also found out that Ryomen is a close contact to Fushiguro,” he added. “They had been in business with each other before and worked with the same clients.” He took a sip of his coffee as if to calm himself. “You’re too close to the case, V. I’m sorry, but you’ll have to stay out of this one and wait until we get another case to put you on.”

That was the end of it. There was no convincing him. You walked out of there with tears in your eyes and feeling exposed to the whole department as the hit woman who became a slut for a crime boss. When you got home that night, you downed a bottle of wine and told yourself that you wouldn’t let this happen. No more self-deprecating or feeling sorry for yourself. No more thinking of Toji, his dirty words, and his big, beautiful cock.

You wouldn’t allow this type of disrespect for ANYONE. So if you were going to redeem yourself, you would do it without your boss’ approval. This is for you now and you alone.

So here you are now, about to go against your boss’ wishes and the rules of your profession by inserting yourself in a case that has nothing to do with you. But you were prepared. You would find Sukuna, seduce him, and turn him into the authorities at means necessary…even if that means making him bleed.

You turn away from the mirror and look down at your vanity stool where your outfit for tonight’s event is laid out nicely for you—a strapless red dress with a slit in the thigh, a diamond set, and red bottom heels. Most importantly, a mask encrusted in diamonds sits waiting for you to put it on.

You pick up the mask and hold it in your hands, feeling the ridges of the diamonds against your fingertip. “Okay,” you say to yourself, feeling adrenaline fill your veins. “Let’s do this.”

**********

When you arrive at the ball, it is in full swing and brimming with luxury, excitement and the energy of the nightlife crowd.

The party is located downtown in a high-end, five star hotel ballroom. It is shockingly easy for you to get in, but then again, as a renowned hit woman, you know exactly how to blend in. All you had to do was slink by while the security guard posted in front of the hotel was busy with another masquerading couple.

As soon as you walk in, you are bombarded by the sound of a live band playing classical music and the aura of luxury. It is all around you—on the snack table where a crystal bowl of punch and champagne flutes sit; in the tasteful decorations of feathers, streamers, and entertainment blowing fire, making the crowd gasp; in the conversations and laughs of the guests decked out in their best designer and masks.

There are so many masks of all colors and kinds, making you blend in perfectly with the crowd. You keep your silver clutch close to your side, your little Glock hidden beneath your lipstick tube switchblade…and your lipstick. You can’t ever leave the house without your MAC.

You begin to look around the room, Sukuna’s face in your mind’s eye. You studied his appearance for days before coming here. Though you have no idea what he’ll be wearing tonight, you know that once you see him, you’ll know that it’s him.

“Drink, ma’am?” a voice suddenly asks. You jump slightly and turn around, finding a smiling waiter carrying a tray of champagne flutes. “Oh, yes,” you reply. “Thank you.” You give him a red-lipped smile and take one before he walks away to serve someone else. You might as well drink and try not to act so tense. Any kind of slip and your act will be exposed. You already know Sukuna’s men are slinking around here too.

You decide to walk over to one of the snack tables where a couple stands with their own snack tables, both matching in their rich, violet clothes. You give them a nod as you take a plate, lower your glass on the table, and randomly gather some cheese cubes onto your plate.

Beside you, the male in his gold mask and long, wavy hair, leans in towards his partner. “He’s in here somewhere,” he murmurs. “Keep your eyes peeled.” Immediately, you know exactly who he is. A C.O.D.E. agent. You sneakily eye him and his partner who glares at him behind her leopard-printed mask that somehow meshes with her violet gown. “And keep your mouth shut,” she hisses. “This place is crawlin’ with his men.”

You plop some veggies onto your plate and dribble on some ranch dressing, still listening. “Sorry,” the male mutters. “It’s my first mission, okay? I only got transferred to Japan just a month ago!”

The woman rolls her eyes and drops his arm from hers. “Stay here,” she sighs before she struts off in her heels. Her partner watches her go and you can feel his irritation radiating off of her. “Bitch,” he mutters before he presses down onto his left ear, obviously calling someone. Probably your boss to tell him that he hates his partner and wants to abort the mission. You nearly laugh and have to bite your lip to keep from giggling.

These are the agents your boss sent out tonight to get Sukuna? Them?! This guy was just transferred a month ago from wherever-the-fuck and he’s already messing up! Even on your first mission, you knew to always keep your guard up and act the part, wherever, however.

The male walks away to a nearby table, talking as he does to your boss or someone else at headquarters. You scoff to yourself, actually offended. How could your boss send someone like this ameture on a mission? But you’d show him. You nibble on a broccoli stalk and some cheese as you begin to scan the room, nodding at anyone who passes. Your eyes pass the stage to the far left where the exit into the hotel lobby is.

There, you see him. He is chatting with two men in suits and their own masks, a glass of champagne in his big hand. Each thick finger is inked and adorned in silver rings that wink at you under the bright lights. He is big and tall—about 6’6 at least. His big frame fills out his black suit and tie outfit which is rather plain for such a gaudy party.

But the blackness of his suit makes the pink of his hair, fluffy-looking yet spiked, and his red mask pop. At first glance, his mask reminds you almost of the Devil. It’s a fitting look for him, you suppose. He isn’t flashy, but he still looks rich. Like he has no problem making such a statement with his outfit and red-bottom shoes.

But you doubt that anyone would have anything to say to Sukuna Ryomen about anything he wears.

He tugs on his right ear where several small hoops, including a cartilage piercing, hang. From where you stand, you can see that his neck is roped in tattoos as well. He says something to the men and gives them a smirk before turning and walking through the exit.

You wait until the men depart and drain your champagne before tossing your snacks away. The hunt is on now. Keeping an eye on your fellow agents, you strut across the room to the exit, paying no attention to the gents who have their eyes on your bouncing chest, thighs, and ass. You finally make it to the hotel lobby and quickly scan the area, looking for Sukuna’s broad shoulders and long legs. You immediately find him at the entrance of a bar on the right hand side chatting with a doe-eyed waitress who immediately giggles and guides him into the bar.

You follow, the click of your heels against the marbled floor egging you on. The swanky, dimly-lit bar is damn near packed when you walk in. Most of its patrons are from the ball with the exception of businessmen at happy hour and women in their finest looking to score a rich man for the night. You spot Sukuna sitting at the end of the bar and passing the bartender a twenty-dollar bill for his shot (and bottle) of whiskey. About three stools down is a plump, balding man in a wolf mask and an Armani suit, his face flushed from too much to drink.

Immediately, you get an idea. Smirking to yourself, you strut over to the bar, brazenly staring at both the wolf and Sukuna who both have their eyes on you. You sit down beside the balding wolf, giving him a small smile in greeting. You place your clutch on the bar where you wave your manicured nails at the bartender. “One martini with five olives, please,” you order. The bartender nods and begins to ready your drink.

The wolf, on his fourth or fifth Bourbon, sloppily smirks beside you. Perhaps he thinks it makes him look sexy. “Five olives?” He chuckles. “You storin’ for the winter, Ms. Red?” His eyes graze down your body from behind the eye holes in his mask.

“Just for this party,” you joke. “Why? Do you suggest somethin’ more delicious than olives, Mr. Wolf?” You put a sultry, seductive lilt into your voice, leaning your chin into your hand. You hope Mr. Wolf catches on…which of course, he does.

“If you’re interested in what’s at the snake table, sure,” he replies, his voice low and teasing. He suddenly digs into his pocket, fishing out a twenty. “Here. A pretty thing like you shouldn’t buy her own drink.”

“I appreciate that,” you giggle, taking the money from him just as the bartender returns with your drink. “How can I repay you for such a kind act?” You lean forward and press your tits enticingly against the bar to which Mr. Wolf shamelessly stares at. You think you hear Sukuna scoff behind you, making your neck feel hot. But you don’t dare turn around. Not yet.

Mr. Wolf opens his mouth to say something either dumb or lecherous, but a slender blonde in a cat mask and a skin-tight dress struts up to him. “There you are!” she scoffs, rather loud. “I’ve been calling you nonstop! You dragged me to this damn party and then you just left me alone to come drink some more?”

She is so loud that it drowns out the jazz music playing overhead, catching the eye of the others in the bar. Mr. Wolf lowers his Bourbon, sighing to himself. “Karen, please don’t start,” he mutters, seething with rage. “You begged me to take you here.”

The woman—Karen—ignores him and turns to you. “And who is this?” She demands, scowling at Mr. Wolf. “Another one of your ‘business partners’?” The sound of shocked laughs and whispers drift in the tense, musky air. Mr. Wolf looks at you apologetically as he slides off of his stool, nearly falling. “Sorry,” he whispers. You give him a smile as he walks off with his nagging…girlfriend? Wife? Sugar baby? As if hearing your thoughts, Sukuna answers them for you. “I could’ve told ya he was married,” he chuckles. His laugh is smooth and rich yet deep and lethal, like a shot of whiskey.

You turn to him, raising a brow at him as you sip your martini. “How do you know?” you question. “He didn’t have a ring on his finger.”

Sukuna chortles again as if you’re some dumb little girl he needs to school. “Don’t have to. Rings can come off, ‘specially at events like these.” He takes a sip from his shot glass, eyeing you across the rim. “There’s plenty of pretty women like yourself swimmin’ around here for the pickin’.”

His gaze is hot like fire licking across your exposed skin. The air that Mr. Wolf and his wife left tense becomes even more so. But you straighten your neck and regard him with a smirk. “Like me?” you scoff. “I doubt he could’ve even been able to afford me.”

You take another sip of your martini, leaving a red stain on the rim, before fishing out the toothpick rowed with olives. You pluck one off with your teeth, knowing that Sukuna is watching. ‘Just keep up the act. Hook, line, and sinker.’

“Sooo you’re one of those city girls, huh?” You turn to him, silently asking him to elaborate. “The kind who chase the bag and never look back at the broken hearts they leave behind?” His smirk is playful. Almost sneaky.

“Close,” you reply. You place your toothpick back in the glass and lean in to give him a shot of your cleavage. “Merchandise,” you vaguely explain, accentuating each syllable with your plump, red lips.

Sukuna carefully watches as if attempting to pick your features apart behind your mask. He leans back on his stool, smirking. “So I was right: this is a ‘pay for the night’ situation. I had a hunch.”

“Oh, you did?” you scoff. “You a cop?” He nearly snorts into his glass. “Not even close, mama,” he chuckles. You cock your head to the side, acting curious. “Then what do you do? You already have my occupation, so what kinda work got you here?”

“I thought we were talkin’ ‘bout you,” he smoothly remarks, eyeing you down. “That’s some dress you got on.” You give him a look, standing your ground. Finally, he gives in defeatedly. I’m a…man of all types of businesses. I’m kind of an arts conasor, I guess you could say. I’m big in tradin’, auctions, collectin’…” Trafficking. Criminal activity. Killing. “Cool,” you reply, nodding. “Oh, I’m V, by the way. Yes, I’m fine, thank you.”

Sukuna chuckles, his crimson red alight with mischief. “Well, I know you’re fine,” he jokes. “Little spitfire, ain’t ya?” You can tell he likes your wittiness. Most men like him do. “Apologies, V. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

He puts his big, ringed hand out for a shake. You take it, ignoring the zing of electricity that shoots up your arm as his fingers clasp yours. “Sukuna,” he says, his voice suddenly deeper than before. Quickly, you take your hand away and place it in your lap. If he notices, he doesn’t act like it, instead lighting himself a cigar. “Mind if I smoke?” he asks, regarding you with those blood-red eyes. You shake your head. “Not at all. So what brings you to this riveous party, Sukuna?”

Your target wraps his lip, pierced lips around the cigar, inhaling before exhaling the smoke. “Business. Money. Potential clients and partnerships. I ain’t much of a party person as I’m sure you can tell.” He gives you a smirk. “I’m guessin’ you’re here for business too?” You chuckle, liking his blunt humor. “I got a call from a regular client of mine to come here. He’s a big-time CEO—the owner of a chain of gas companies. He asked me to come here, but I haven’t seen him yet.”

You come up with the lie on the spot and make a show of looking around for your imaginary client. “Hope he’s not playin’ me out,” you huff. “He’s been generous before, but he’s also generous with other women much younger than me.”

“Well, I’d be glad to give ya some company,” Sukuna says. “Between you and me, that guy sounds like a dickhead for even invitin’ you here.” You tilt your head at him, curiously and flirtatiously. “Why is that?” you ask.

Sukuna takes another drag of his cigar, and as the smoke escapes his nostrils, he looks so much like the Devil appearing in a gray cloud to you. ‘Cause this place is crawlin’ with guys like me. And I always get what I want.” He gives you a white-toothed smile that sends shivers down your spine and suddenly, your facade slips a bit.

But not until you’re fortunately distracted. “Sukunaaaa!” someone suddenly shouts from the other side of the bar. He is in a fox mask and black suit with a red tie, standing among other powerful and rich-looking men. “Come! Play a game with us!” The other men agree, shouting him over.

You and Sukuna share a look, him looking like he wants to be anywhere but over there. “Come on,” you chuckle. “I don’t know how to play, but I’ll watch you. I can be your good luck charm.” You sip on your martini as you rise to your feet, waiting for him to follow. After some thought, Sukuna gets up, standing a whole head taller than you. “If ya say so, but be prepared for looks.”

Together, you walk side by side over to the pool table. Just as he said, you gain the curious eye of every man surrounding the pool table, cigars and drinks in hand. The entire area smells of cigar smoke and expensive cologne. Wealth. Sukuna introduces you to the men and you pretend to act flattered as the men kiss your hand and compliment you on your dress.

You stand among them and drink your martini, sizing up Sukuna and his gang. You don’t know if any of them are “his people”, but you stay on guard anyway, sipping as little alcohol as you can. You watch them play pool together, laughing when you’re supposed to and answering questions when asked but not giving too much about yourself away.

Sukuna is pretty quiet most of the time, primarily focused on the game. He is very meticulous; a strategist at pool. His long fingers twirl around his pool stick, his eyes sizing up each player and the eight balls that roll this way and that along the green table. He is good, you admit. He knows just where to shoot and how to do it, betting on each ball with the probability of an expert.

But Mr. Crane—a banker in a crane mask and dark blue suit—is on his ass having gotten close in points. He stands there laughing and joking about while Sukuna sizes him up. “Oooh, I think you’ve got some competition, Mr. Sukuna,” you whisper. “He’s winning.”

Your target grunts in disagreement. “Not for long,” he growls. “I don’t ever lose.” You hum to yourself, staring up at him through your lashes. “You sure about that?”

Now Sukuna turns to you fully and you realize just how tall he is. You have to stand back a bit to even look at him. “Do me a favor,” he purrs, his eyes hooded from the smoke. “Wager somethin’ with me.”

Your heart thunders in anticipation for his next words..but you don’t expect them even when they come out. “If I win this game, you ditch that client who stood ya up and spend the night with me.”

Sukuna’s tatted hand goes for his pocket, patting it. “And trust me, mama: I’ve got the money for it.” A shit-eating grin crosses his lips, showing you the two gold canines embedded in his lower row of teeth.

”And if you lose?” you ask, alarmed by how breathless you sound. Sukuna passively shrugs. “Then I’ll buy you a drink and slip ya the money anyway.” You take a moment to think on this. He could be lying. He could be testing you. But figuring you’ve got a weapon, you agree by clinking your glass with his. “Deal.”

Sukuna’s smile grows, almost looking joyous at your agreement. The game continues and you watch with bated breath as he and Mr. Crane go head to head. You sip your martini, not even noticing how less tense you seem from the alcohol or how bright the lights have become or how hot you seem or how Sukuna shoots the last two balls into a pocket because Mr. Crane missed. Oh, shit. You gape at the astonished player and then at Sukuna. He turns to you, prideful and giddy. “Oh, would you look at that,” he whispers. “I win.” You get a bad, bad feeling in your gut, but you ignore it. Big mistake on your part.

You swallow hard, fixing your mouth into a flirty smile. “So how would you like to spend the night with me, Mr. Sukuna?”you ask. The gangster shrugs, acting clueless. “I dunno…dancing, drinking, or your legs wrapped around my head. It’s your choice.” Suddenly, the obvious sexual tension that has been in the air erupts as soon as the vulgar words are out in the open. You feel your tongue become heavy and your nipples harden beneath your dress. You ignore it all. You can’t be hot over this criminal. Not again!

“You stayin’ here?” you ask though you already know the answer. He nods, his expression lustful. “Let’s get out of here then. I’d like to come back and get some cake from the party though.”

He nods again and lays a hand on your lower back, leading you out of the bar and into the lobby where you walk to the elevators. When you’re finally alone with him behind the elevator doors, you momentarily think about sliding your gun out of your clutch and shooting him, ending this now.

But when his hand slowly slides down your backside to grip your ass, you bite your lip and hold firm. ‘Not yet. In time.’ Finally, the elevators open up onto a hotel suite that looks more like a penthouse. There is a foyer in the middle of the room with glass tables, a private bathroom near the exiting door, plush furniture overlooking a flat-screen, and a small kitchenette with an attached island and mini-bar.

Your heels click as you walk into the suite, admiring the luxurious room. “Nice setup,” you comment. You twirl around to face Sukuna as the elevator doors shut. You’re glad you remembered to wear gloves. You don’t need to leave any fingerprints here. “It’s a little small for my tastes.” Sukuna strides toward you, reaching you in about three steps on his long legs. “But then again, I don’t use this room to sleep.”

Silently, he takes you by the hand and leads you into the large bedroom suite on the right hand side. The walls are painted an indigo blue, giving the room a calm sensation that the king-sized bed in the middle doesn’t. Two plush armchairs sit across from it near a balcony overlooking the city beyond, the moonlight shining onto the bed’s crossed ceiling and bedposts guarding each side of the headboard and the bottom of the bed.

You turn to Sukuna to say something, anything to take the edge off of you, but you’re silenced when he takes a seat at the end of the bed. He sits with his legs spread and his hands in his lap. Even from here, you can tell that he is hard—his dick print is pulsing beneath his slacks. “Take that off,” he demands. “Let me see you.”

Showtime. You lay your clutch down near your feet within arm’s reach before you reach back to slooooowly unzip your dress. The beautiful, red garment slips off of you, leaving you in your strapless corset, panties, and nylon stockings. All trimmed with lace. All sexy. You purposely chose this outfit because the corset lifts your breasts in a way that is enticing and your panties hug your ass, making it plumper and much fatter.

Sukuna gives a sharp intake of breath before he takes off his jacket and starts reaching for his tie. You chuckle though your blood runs hot. “Oh, startin’ already? I didn’t take you as the eager type.” The gangster smirks, yanking his tie off of his throat. “And I didn’t take you as a liar,” he replies.

You blink at him, startled by his words. “W-What?” you stammer. Sukuna continues to strip, unbuttoning each button on his top. “You agreed to let me do whatever I want if I win. I’m askin’ you to take off everything. Includin’ the mask.” He still gives you that humored smirk as his top comes off, revealing a tattooed chest and big, muscular arms to you roped in ink.

You can feel your anxiety peaking. Your stomach is roiling and you feel sick. “I’m not taking off the mask,” you firmly say. Now Sukuna’s smile fades. He looks confused as if he can’t figure you out. “You disobey me?” he asks.

You swallow, not liking how that sounds. “I’m just not comfortable with that. I don’t want you seeing me. It’s something I do with every client.” You keep up with your role, hoping that he’ll take that as an answer…but you’re wrong. He fixes you with a laser-hot look that you don’t like. “You sure?” he asks. “Or are you just tryna save yourself from your sinkin’ ship?”

“What are you talking about?” you snap, glaring at him. You stagger back as he suddenly gets up and walks over to the nightstand. As he does, you quickly unzip your gun and place it behind you in the waistband of your panties. Better to be ready than not at all.

Sukuna turns to you then, holding a glittering diamond wrapped in cloth in his palm. Your eyes widen at the sight of the stolen jewel from the museum. “This is what you want, right?” he asks. “This is what you’re lookin’ for?” His smirk grows into something menacing and almost mocking. “Or is it me you’re lookin’ for, V? It is V, right?”

‘Oh, my God. Not again.’

Sukuna knows he’s got you judging by the deer-in-headlights look you’re sporting on your face despite the mask. “Can I ask you what your plan was tonight?” he asks. Not waiting for an answer, he continues: “What, you thought you’d seduce me, get me up here, suck my dick a bit, and then slap some cuffs on me so you can save the day?”

He snorts at the mere thought of it, the diamond still in his palm. “Stupid girl. I know all about you. Toji and I are close in this business.” He begins to walk toward you, slowly and teasingly like a serial killer who takes joy in scaring his victims before the final kill. He told me aaall about how he used that pussy till it was sore and got away in the end.”

You grow hot at the vulgarity of his taunting words, even more so at the fact that your cover has been blown again. “So what now?” you ask, dropping the act entirely. “You gonna kill me?”

Sukuna places the diamond on a nearby dresser right where a few bottles of wine sit. “I should…but I won’t. After all, we’re up here now.” His eyes grow dark and lustful, frightening you. “So I’m gonna do just what I planned to do: I’m gonna fuck you like I paid for you.” And he definitely is a man who will act on what he says.

Quickly, you take the gun out of your panties and aim it at him. Sukuna stops moving, standing as still as a statue. “Stand back,” you growl. “You come any closer and I’ll put a bullet in you.” One finger sits on the trigger, ready to press down at any given moment.

Anyone else would cry, flinch, beg for their lives…but not Sukuna. He is as stone cold as the look in his eyes. He takes another step toward you, then another, until his chest is pressed against the barrel of your gun. “Do it,” he growls. “I fuckin’ dare you, bitch. Shoot me.”

And so you do. Despite your hammering heart and shaky hand, you pull the trigger….only to hear a click. You pull again, hearing a click. Nothing. “What?” you whisper to yourself, staring at your gun. It’s the perfect advantage for Sukuna to take, which he does by slapping you dead in your face.

With a shout, you fall to the ground, your gun clattering to the floor. You check your lip for blood, finding only smudged lipstick. This motherfucker ruined your makeup! “Slipped into your clutch while you were chattin’ with that wolffish slob,” he explains, grinning evilly at you. “You’d think a hitwoman would be a little more savvy.”

Now you’re angry. He’s insulting your intelligence. Embarrassing you. Humiliating you. “Oh, I am,” you snarl. “I was gonna go easy on you, but now…I’m just gonna make you bleed. Do not ever underestimate me, dickhead.”

You lunge at him and grab onto his belt, using all your might to yank him down onto the floor. As soon as he’s down, you place your arm over his stomach and leap onto him, straddling him. Ignoring his smile and handsome features, you raise a hand to punch him, but his hand shoots out to grab your neck.

You grunt, trying to break his hold which he uses as a distraction to pull you off of him. Back onto the floor you go with the gangster on top of you. He forces your wrists at the top of your head, his big hands gripping and pinning them down to the floor.

“Nice try,” he chuckles, his big body pressing into yours. “I’ve seen better though.”

You try to buck him off, but he wedges one knee between your plump, soft inner thighs, his belt buckle pressing into your pelvis bone. You gasp, feeling suffocated. “St-Stop!” you stammer. “Don’t—“ You’re rudely cut off as his knee glides against your crotch, giving you a spark of pleasure. A soft moan leaves your lips followed by a rush of hot embarrassment.

Sukuna notices, his crimson eyes glinting like a cat’s in the night. “Oh,” he coos. “Was that a moan, babygirl? You like this?” He rolls his hips down into yours, unfortunately causing that same spark of pleasure to explode in your core. He cackles, overjoyed by this. “Maybe this is what you came here for: to get fucked by a gangster. I’m better than Toji though. I promise you that.”

He sits fully on top of you, straddling your waist, and reaches for your clutch. “Let’s see what ya got in here, shall we?” He turns your clutch over, causing each content of it to fall out onto the floor. Your lipstick and switchblade. Your phone. Your powder compact. And a pair of silver handcuffs.

Sukuna’s brow raises in interest and he gives you a smile that makes you damn near sick. He snatches the cuffs before you can reach them and suddenly gets off of you. Before you can wonder what’s happening, he flips you over onto your stomach and begins yanking you across the floor by your ankles. An animalistic grunt leaves your lips as you try to grab onto something to slow your trip, but it’s to no avail.

So you begin trying to kick him, hitting his arm and his leg. You try to get his balls, but you end up getting his knee. “Oooh, bratty!” he cackles. “I’m gonna have some fun with you, whore. You’re dressed for the part already.”

He is rough with you now, taking great pleasure in your shouts of pain and desperation. Finally, he forces you over to the nearest bedpost and yanks on your wrists. You wriggle and squirm, trying to escape him, but you can’t do much when the cuffs are clicking around your wrists.

Clank, clank.

You panic, trying to shake your wrists out, but the chain linking the cuffs together are looped around the bedpost. You are trapped. Sukuna stands back with his hands up his hips, admiring his handiwork. “There we go,” he chuckles. “Nice and tight. You look so good for me right now.”

You turn to stare at him, on your knees and cuffed to the post. “Fuck you,” you growl. His smirk grows along with his cock in his pants. “Oh, not yet, mama, but I’m glad you’re so eager.”

You begin to scream and clatter the cuffs around, making as much noise as you can to alert someone. Anyone. But when the familiar barrel of a gun presses into your backside, you pipe down. “Shut the fuck up,” he growls. “You’re mine tonight. And if you value your job and your life, you’d better do everything I say.”

He uses the gun to press it underneath your chin and turn you to face him. “Understand?” he growls, his red eyes glaring. You know better than to argue or scream or curse. So you swallow your pride and everything you learned from C.O.D.E. training. “Y-Yes,” you whimper.

Sukuna’s eyes light up like a Christmas tree at your obedience. “‘Yes, sir’ is the correct response, but I’ll let you off this one time.” He keeps his gun in his hand, but doesn’t aim it at you anymore. “Now if you wanna do somethin’ else with that mouth besides complain and talk shit, I’ve got an idea.”

His smile fades as he watches you watch him, his gaze molten hot and lustful. You have no choice but to watch him unbuckle his pants with one hand and pull his cock out. Your eyes widen at inch at his long, thick, pulsing shaft protruding from a nest of pink curls.

“Suck my cock,” he demands, his tone firm and serious. “Apologize to me for all of the lies and deceit. Oh, and look up here while you do it.”

You feel your eyes watering and your lips quivering. Everything in you is screaming at you not to comply…but there is one part nesting in the deepest, darkest depths of your being that is interested and curious. The same part of you that emerged in that VIP room with Toji five months ago.

Swallowing your pride, you start by kissing and licking along Sukuna’s shaft, introducing yourself to his cock. He softly groans and hums in enjoyment at your ministrations, pushing his hips forward.

He does so in a way that makes his cock slip between your lips and in your mouth without your permission. You gasp as his thick cock passes the threshold of your mouth, the taste of him all over your tongue. “That’s a good girl,” he moans, using one hand to grab the back of your head.

He pushes you forward onto his dick, taking him deeper into your mouth. You force yourself to open your throat and to breathe through your nostrils in an effort not to choke. He’s about as big as Toji with a thick, bulbous head, heavy balls, and—

Click.

Your eyes tick up to see Sukuna with your phone in his face, the gun now in his pocket. How did he break your code? Did he use Face ID? His cock slips out of your mouth and you take a moment to gasp in some air. “What are you—?”

“Just givin’ you some encouragement and persuasion,” he cuts in, smirking. “After all, you need to do a good job, don’t you? And I would just hate for your boss to somehow see this if you—“

“Don’t!” you cry, tears springing into our eyes. “Fine, I’ll do it! Just don’t send anything!” You want to shield yourself from the camera eye of your phone, but you can’t. You can’t do anything.

Sukuna keeps the camera on you, the threat of pictures or videos looming over you. “Open up then,” he growls. “And don’t even think about usin’ teeth…but you’re a good, smart girl, so I doubt you’ll try it with me.”

His cock pulses in front of you and you shiver. You don’t know if it’s out of repulsion or excitement. Either way, you suck on his cock like you mean it, hollowing your cheeks to take him easier. Sukuna lets out a loud, throaty groan, one hand tangled in your hair.

“That’s it, mama,” he groans. “Take that fuckin’ cock. Y’know, you’re better at this than ya are fightin’.” He pushes in deeper, making you gag and nearly triggering that button in the back of your throat to vomit. “You should think about changin’ occupations…bein’ a little cocksucker is way more fittin’ for ya.”

He begins to fuck your face now, slowly at first, but he is still brutal and rough. You have to force yourself to keep breathing to avoid throwing up all over his dick. “You could be my little cocksucker,” he growls. “My cock slut. My whore. You’d like that, wouldn’t ya?”

You gurgle and gag in response, your throat forced to flex around his cock interrupting its natural state. You feel as if your throat and mouth are being molded into his personal fleshlight with the way he fucks your face, grunting and groaning like a desperate man. His balls slap against your chin, filling your nose with the scent of his cologne and his cock.

You’ve never been used in such a way. You are being resorted to nothing but a toy. A hole for his own use. Saliva drips from your chin and down onto your tits, making you slick and messy…just like another part of you between your thighs. The more he fucks, the more your cunt throbs and pulses in anticipation for it to be fucked the same way.

What is wrong with you?

You can only ask yourself this question more as Sukuna’s thrusts grow rougher and stronger, his fingers digging into your scalp. “Fuck, baby,” he grunts. “You’re about to make me cum. You’d better fuckin’ take it…take it, bitch!”

Finally, with a few more brutal thrusts that steal your air away, Sukuna lets out a loud moan and cums deep down your throat. Your moans of protest and shock are muffled as his cock pushes deep, ropes of warm cum shooting down your throat.

“Take it,” he pants. “Take my fuckin’ cum. I know you want all of it.” He begins to rock his hips slowly, riding out his orgasm as he gives you more and more of his spunk. You take all of it because what other choice do you have?

When he finally pulls away, a string of cum-mixed saliva attaches itself to your bottom lip. He grips your chin, forcing you at look at him. “Show me your mouth,” he demands. “I wanna see it. Stick out your tongue and don’t let a single ounce drop.”

You do as he says, carefully sticking out your tongue so he can see the pool of cum on it. He smiles, patting your cheek. “That’s a good girl. Now swallow.” And like an obedient puppet, you close your mouth and swallow his cum before he gives you a long, wet, open-mouthed kiss that steals your breath away.

When he pulls away, he honestly looks…softer. Like he’s in love with what he sees. “Now,” he coos, wiping a drop of spit off of your lips with his thumb, “let me give you a reward for such a job well done.”

You let him grab your arm and force you onto your feet. Your body feels unbalanced and your legs are wobbly. To some degree, you’re thankful for the support of the post to hold you up as Sukuna’s big hands glide down your ass and thighs. Then, suddenly, you feel his breath caressing your asscheeks and something cool on your skin.

You realize what it is when you feel your panties slice off of your body. A knife. “Please,” you whimper. Sukuna chuckles, humored by your humiliation and fear. “Don’t fret, mama. This is just to get these panties off…if you’re good, that is.” He presses the cool metal of the knife into your thigh, making you feel the jagged edges.

“You can be a good girl for me, can’t you?” he whispers, a wicked smile in his voice. He doesn’t give you the chance to answer before lightly licking you against your slit. You gasp, your wrists straining against the cuffs. His big hands glide up to force your hips back, causing your ass to jut into his face.

Sukuna hums in enjoyment, licking and sucking away at your pussy that seems to grow wetter with every ministration of his tongue. How is he so good at this? You try to hold back your moans, but you can’t. Plus, the knife against your thigh doesn’t allow you. One wrong move or something that he doesn’t like and that knife could be cutting your skin.

So let him do as he pleases. But you don’t really have a choice either. All you can do is grip the pole you’re shackled to as Sukuna sucks on your pussy lips and swirls his tongue around your clit before he dips the muscle inside of you. Your mouth falls open on a loud moan, his soft lips cushioning your clit. Your thighs begin to quiver and you feel your body shake in pleasure.

You hate how good this feels. And you especially hate that the man you hate is making you feel this good.

Sukuna lightly pulls on your pussy lips, earning a whimper from you. “Isn’t this so much better than fightin’ me, baby?” he asks before French kissing your cunt once again. He kisses you sloppily and messily, his tongue licking and sliding this way and that. “Fuckin’ slut,” he growls, gripping your asscheek and giving it a smack. “You’re so desperate for me. It’s what you should be.”

He moves the knife to your lower stomach, pressing the tip into your lace bra. Your pulse jumps as you feel it puncture a hole in it, ruining the bra and grazing against one of your breasts. “Please,” you whine. “Please!”

Sukuna smiles, still licking and sucking your pussy with all of the vigor of a hungered man. “I like you beggin’,” he replies. “Do it again for me. Beg real pretty for me, slut.” You have no choice when he continues on slurping on your cunt and fucking your hole, his nose swiping against your clit.

“Please, please, please!” you sob. “Please let me cum!” Your begging must satisfy Sukuna because his tongue moves a little faster, his pace causing your body to quake against the restrictions of the cuffs. His hot, wet mouth causes your orgasm to wash over you quickly yet powerfully, controlling every part of your body. You let out a whine of pleasure as your cum explodes in Sukuna’s mouth, drenching his lips and chin in your juices.

The aftershocks come and your body starts writhing, causing you to grip the pole for dear life. Sukuna hums in satisfaction, cleaning you up as you writhe for him. Finally, when the aftershocks subside, you slump against the pole, your knees nearly giving out. Sukuna pulls away from you finally and lovingly strokes your ass. “Good little slut,” he coos in his deep voice. “But we ain’t done yet so you’d better get it together.”

Instantly, your stomach grows fluttery with butterflies and your core grows warm. You know exactly what is coming next. You can’t stop. You can’t avoid it. And more frighteningly, you’re not even sure if you don’t want it.

Sukuna stands behind you and places one foot between yours to widen your legs out. His knife glides up your side to your neck to come across your throat. You freeze as soon as you feel the cold metal touch your tender, warm skin. Sukuna chuckles into your ear as his other hand plays with your wet pussy. “What a thrill, huh?” he hisses. “You ain’t been thrilled yet till you’ve gotten me.”

You concur. You can’t help but to do so when he finally slides that big, thick, long cock inside of you. Slick and open from your orgasm, he slides right in and makes his home between your velvety walls. He groans into your ear while your mouth falls agape on a silent moan.

You feel stretched. You feel full. You feel used. And you feel absolutely, positively amazing. Sukuna digs his nails into the fleshy part where your ass meets your hip, his fingers fondling your tummy. “Fuck!” he grunts into your ear, panting hotly. Even he can’t get a grip on himself. Your pussy feels too good wrapped around him, stroking him of all he’s worth.

He drops the knife, no longer needing it, and your body relaxes…until the blade is replaced with his hand. “Take it,” he demands. “Take that fuckin’ cock. You know you need it.” His other hand grips your stomach, kneading the plushy, soft flesh as he fucks into your wet heat. “So let me give it to you,” he huffs. “Lemme give you everything that slutty pussy needs.”

His hips hammer harder and faster into your ass, making it quiver and recoil. Your moans are loud and high-pitched, unable to be silenced due to Sukuna’s pistoning thrusts. He fucks you like a machine, pumping in and out, out and in, his cock pulsing inside of you. “F-Fuck!” you stammer. “Wait, Sukuna! You’re going t-too fast!”

Your pussy feels like it’s going into overload, being stuffed too much and too quickly. Tears spring into your eyes as Sukuna grips your throat tighter, cutting off your air for just a moment. “Quiet!” he snaps. “Sluts don’t talk. They only take dick. They take all that’s given to them and they’re thankful for it.”

Short moans and gasps leave your lips as he continues to squeeze, still fucking you dumb. Your knees buckle and your head feels fuzzy from the overstimulation and his hand gripping your throat. The pleasure somehow mounts to astronomical heights because of this, leaving you a dumb, mindless mess.

Sukuna presses his lips to your ear, his lip ring cool against the shell of your ear. “So tell me thank you. Say “thank you, Daddy, for givin’ me that dick. Thank you for fuckin’ me so good. Thank you for makin’ me your little cock whore”.” He loosens his hold on your neck, allowing you time to breathe. But you can’t breathe. You can’t even speak. Your mind is full of cock, unable to focus on anything but Sukuna’s big thighs against yours and his dick pummeling into you.

His hand grips your neck again, tighter this time, and you gag. “Say it!” he demands, roaring into your ear. “Say the fuckin’ words!” This time, he doesn’t release your neck, so you’re forced to get the words out with his fingers pressing into your throat. Fat, wet tears drip from your lashes, wetting your cheeks behind your mask.

“Thank you!” you sob out, finally broken. “Thank you, Daddy! Thank you for giving me your dick! T-Thank you for…for…!” You trail off, your words turning into a desperate moan as you feel the knot in your core tighten.

You’re about to cum. Your target, this gangster, a lowdown, dirty criminal, is going to make you burst all over his big, fat cock as if you’re his lover and he’s deserving of all of it. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum!” you warn. “Please, please let me cum, Daddy! I can’t take it!”

You grip the cuffs for dear life as he fucks and fucks and fucks you. Your knuckles turn white, an indication of the pleasure you’re experiencing. Sukuna chuckles, enjoying your torture. “Aww, but the fun just started, baby,” he condescendingly coos. “You gonna cum already? Is this gangster cock just too good?” You whimper in response, your eyes fluttering closed.

Smack!

Sukuna slaps your ass hard, making it sting. “I don’t hear an answer,” he growls. His thrusts grow quick and brutal, turning your pussy into mush and making your clit sing. “Yes! Yes, it feels so fucking good!” you babble.

“Cum on it then,” he orders. “Give Daddy what he wants. Fucking cum for me now, V.” He continues this brutal, controlling pace with one hand gripping your throat and the other on your ass, drilling into your pussy and against your G-spot with all of the mercy of a sinner.

It doesn’t take long for that knot in your core to snap. “Oh, fuck!” you whine, damn near screaming for all to hear as you cum hard around Sukuna’s cock. Your orgasm hits you hard and intensely, sending you on a trip as you thrash in Sukuna’s hands and against the post.

Your pussy grips him tighter than a vice as you cream him, coating him from his cockhead to his balls in your juices. He grunts in pleasure by how tight you’ve grown, gripping and stroking him until he has no choice but to cum. Before he can, he pulls out of you and forces you down onto your knees. You’re so weak that you go tumbling down like a baby deer still weak on its hind legs.

“Look at me.” You stare up into Sukuna’s eyes, now facing the man behind the red mask. He has taken it off, revealing his handsome face and strange, tatted stripes on his cheeks. He furiously pumps his slick cock with one hand while he uses the other to rip off your mask. You’re too weak and spent to protest or fight him off.

His face grows red and glistens in sweat from the fury of his pumping, his arm tense as he jerks himself off in front of you. “Take me,” he demands. “Take my cum, my good little whore.” With a few more pumps, he finally bursts with a roar of pleasure, his head flying back as he shoots his spunk all over your face and tits.

You gasp as the warm liquid hits your face, dripping down your cheeks, lips, neck, and juicy tits, making your skin sobbing wet and sticky with him. Your breath comes out in short puffs of air as you recover from the vigorous fucking, completely spent. And ruined.

Sukuna deeply exhales, relaxed and satisfied. “Not bad, little girl,” he chuckles. “I haven’t cum that hard in a minute.” You watch as he picks up his knife and begins to redress himself like nothing happened, fastening his buttons and his belt. Like this was just a quickie and nothing more.

When he finishes, he smirks down at you as he fishes a handkerchief out of his pocket. “Look at you, all messy,” he tuts. “Didn’t your boss teach ya to clean up after yourself?”

He kneels down and begins dabbing his cum off of your face, but not your tits. You already know you look crazy—mascara dripping, lipstick smudged, foundation fucked up. You eyeball Sukuna as he finishes cleaning you up. Even when he takes the key to the cuffs out of your clutch and releases you, you still glare at him like you’re trying to kill him with your eyes.

He tuts, cocking his head to the side. “Oh, now don’t look so glum. Here, I’ve got a present for you for your hard work.” He gives you a wink before walking over to the nightstand, leaving you to recover on the floor.

Slowly, you put your dress back on, hissing at the burn of your hands and wrists from the cuffs. You do your best to keep the tears threatening to spill down your cheeks at bay. You’re almost dressed when Sukuna comes back to you and presents you with the diamond, covering it with the cloth.

You’re stunned into silence for a while, even as he places the rock in front of you and then backs away. He watches you as you watch the diamond, half expecting it to blow up or something…but it doesn’t. Immediately, you feel enraged. “So you’re gonna give me that and what? Let me go?” You laugh, dry and loud. “Was the pussy that good that now you feel bad?”

Immediately, Sukuna’s hand is wrapped tight in your hair. He grips it and yanks you up, making you shout in pain. He brings you up an inch away from his irritated, crimson eyes. “Don’t get too cocky, bitch,” he hisses. “This ain’t about how hard you made me bust or how good you looked takin’ my cock. This is about teachin’ you a lesson.”

Your body tenses and grows cold. As if sensing this, Sukuna soothes your fears. “I’m not gonna kill you,” he explains. “Instead, I’m gonna give you that stupid rock you wanted and you can explain all to your boss about how you saved the day to get it…but only you’ll know what it took. Only you’ll know how you failed again.”

He leans in, smirking. “And that cuts deeper than any knife.” And it does. Already, you feel gutted than Toji made you feel. You’re bleeding out all over the floor, humiliated. Broken. Destroyed. You have failed again.

Sukuna’s smirk grows wider and he loosens his grip on your hair. “But I like you,” he chuckles. “And I don’t like a lot of people, so I’ll throw ya a sweetener: if we ever cross paths again and you get tired of bein’ a hero, you can come kick it with me. Be my little slut and my partner.”

He leans in, giving your neck a long lick, making you whine. “How’s that sound, doll?” he whispers, stroking your cheek. You don’t answer. If anything, you feel like spitting in his face. “I’ll let you sit on it, but my offer stands. Till we meet again, V.”

He gives you a wink and releases you before fastening his mask onto his face. You watch as he turns to leave, unable to take him from behind. You’re too weak and too defeated to do so. “Feel free to use the shower!” he calls, and then you hear the elevator ding.

So you do. Once he is gone and the hotel suite is now yours, you drag yourself to the luxurious bathroom, undress, and take a scalding shower to wash Sukuna’s cum, your ruined makeup, and tonight’s mistakes off of you. You use as much of the floral-scented body wash as you can, washing, scrubbing, and rinsing until your fingers and toes are pruned.

But even that isn’t enough. When you end your long, hot shower, you feel just as dirty as when you walked into it. You then steal one of the plush hotel robes left by the shower and drag yourself back into the hotel room, leaving the floor a mess with your discarded items. The only thing you pick up is your phone.

There, several calls from your boss wait for you. “Shit,” you mutter to yourself. Is it possible Sukuna sent him something anyway? Only one way to find out.

With your mind made up and your heart pounding, you press on your boss’ contact and wait for him to answer, each dial tone making your anxiety peak. Finally, he answers. “V, Thank God!” he exclaims. “I’ve been calling you for hours! Where the hell have you been?! The agents that I put on the Sukuna case told me you’re at the party and Sukuna’s file is gone. V, are you there right now?”

You don't answer for a moment, too busy staring at the diamond sitting next to your discarded mask. Both signs of your failure. Tears begin to rise to the surface again, but this time, only one falls. You can’t fool yourself anymore.

“V!” your boss shouts. “V, answer me! Where are you right now?”

“I’m sorry, boss,” you choke out, wiping your cheek. “I’m going to have to resign.”

TO BE CONTINUED.

#sukuna x black reader #sukuna x reader #black fanfic writer #smutty smut #my works #black coded reader #plus sized reader #sukuna ryomen #sukuna ryoumen smut #jjk x reader smut #jjk smut #my commissions #my one shots

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euno11a · 3 months ago

Text

Baby Girl

Pairing: DILF!Jungkook x PreSchool Teacher!Reader

Synopsis: You always gave yourself one rule, never fall for a single dad. It would be messy and you’d never be his number one. So why did your favourite kid’s dad have to be so hot?

Warnings: fluff, talks of child abandonment, single father JK, angst, arguments, smut, penetrative sex, oral (m and f receiving), light spanking, hair pulling, make outs, kissing, fingering, clit play, clit stimulation, teasing, pet names, mentions of past relationships, dom!jungkook, big cock!jungkook, blonde!jungkook, talks of past pregnancy (not reader), mention of abortion (JK’s ex), sexual tension, alcohol consumption, thigh riding, masturbation, aftercare, swearing, praising, a bit of jealousy, hickeys, handjob, protected sex, rough and soft sex, overstimulation, and multiple orgasms

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“Why are you trying to feed Sara the crayon!” You squealed from your spot behind your desk, swiftly approaching the small circle table holding the kids before taking the purple crayon from Ara’s tiny hands. The small girl’s large brown eyes stared back at you, a smile breaking out onto her lips as she began giggling and babbling about the drawing she made for her dad.

“Look! Daddy has a pur..pur-el shirt cebause he love pur-el!” Ara pointed excitedly to the shirt she drew on her stickfigure, pride glowing in her eyes.

Your smile grew as your grip around the crayon loosened, placing it back down on the table, crouching between her and Sara’s little chairs. “Now that’s gorgeous, Ara! Your dad is gonna love it so much, but how about we stop trying to feed our friends crayons?” She giggled, agreeing before going back to her art. It was true, Ara’s dad, Jeon Jungkook, treasured every single thing she made for him. Every time she would run up to him after school, hands reaching up to him with a new little project every day. One day it was a flower that had things we were grateful for written on the petals, other days it was just a little drawing she made, or it was a seasonal art project. And she never failed to tell you all about his reactions the next day.

Every day you would watch all your students run to their parents coming to pick them up at lunch, most stopped to say ‘Hi’ or ask how their kid was doing - Jungkook never did that. It seemed odd at first, wanting to meet your student’s dad to introduce yourself and get acquainted was a normal thing most teachers did. However, you started noticing pretty early on he hung out near the back of the group of parents that waited near the doors, waiting for Ara, getting her, and then looking at you with a little smile before leaving. Why did he do that? The small pleas for help to get their coats on before the bell filled your classroom, the children still mingling and talking, some cleaning up their tables, but most ready to up and leave as the bell rings. After making sure all the kids had their belongings, you told them to line up, “One, two, three! Eyes on me!” You called out, watching all their little bug eyes look back at you. The small action made a smile spread across your face each time - how could it not? There are about fifteen pairs of eyes that look at you at the same time, with the same little focused expression. It’s impossible not to smile!

Everyone crowded at the door, talking in soft whispers as they waited for you to open it and let them run off to their parents. You let the children run in different directions, enjoying the happy chatter around you as people began leaving. Just as you were about to head into the school again, you felt a little tug on your sleeve, making you look down. “ Miss L/n, daddy’s not here…”

Her little voice trailed off and it instantly made you go into protective mode. You crouched in front of her, holding her small hand as you observed how her big boba eyes got glossy and her little button nose got red. It was a rare sight seeing Ara cry, she almost never did in your class unless it was something truly meaningful to her. “Shh, it’s okay, Ara. Your dad probably got caught up in something! How about we wait here until he arrives, hm?” You offered, wiping away the small tears that dropped down her cheeks, her head nodding softly as you stood up and held her hand outside.

Twenty minutes pass and nothing. It was unlike Jungkook to be late, every day you could see his car park in the same spot under a tree, getting out and adjusting his jacket before taking a few steps…then pausing beside his car to lock it three times. Now that you think about it, you sound kinda stalker-ish with how much attention you pay to him. The air started getting cooler, so you took Ara back inside the classroom, thankful that you had an hour break before your afternoon class showed up. “Are you warm? You can take your jacket off, Ara. Do you want some paper to draw?”

Her head was tilted down as she sat in her normal seat near the cozy corner you had set up for your students, not really answering your questions. “Did daddy leave me?” She asked, her tiny fingers picking at her other ones as she asked.

Sourness filled your heart as you heard her question, you pulled out the small chair beside her, tilting your head to see her face. “Honey, of course he didn’t leave you. He’s just running late for some reason. Why would you think that?”

“Mommy did…” Her words were cut off by sudden footsteps approaching the class quickly, a man hunched over huffing and puffing like he had just ran a marathon. “Oh god, I’m so sorry, baby.” He said, still gasping for air as he approached us, kneeling down on her other side.

Her mom left? You stood up, straightening out your cardigan as you stared down at the man pressing his forehead against Ara’s jacket covered arm. “Ara, I’m sorry, daddy had to close up the shop cause your uncles weren’t there. I’m sorry, bug.” Wow, he apologized a lot, even though Ara had already probably forgotten about what happened. Her bright little smile was there again, brightening the room as his large…tattooed hand caressed the opposite arm.

“Daddy! Look what I made!” Ara exclaimed, showing her dad her little portrait of her and her dad, wearing his purple shirt.

“Wow, I love it, baby girl! It’s so me. You know where this is going?” The way they both said “on the fridge” at the exact same time would make any woman’s ovaries burst. It was too cute! Ara’s dad stood up, rubbing his hands on the back of his pants before looking at you, staring blankly before his eyes widened and a hand was out stretched. “Sorry! I’m Jungkook, Jeon Jungkook! Ara’s dad, cause she has the same last name as me, but not only that reason! Her mom and I-” He stopped, his cheeks tinting a light red as you grasped his hand, shaking it with furrowed brows. “I’m gonna stop talking before I make it worse.”

“No, no, please. I always enjoy hearing about how parents are related to their child.” You laughed, releasing his hand again - eyes gleaming from the way his cheeks darkened in colour again. “It’s honestly okay, Mr. Jeon. Ara and I had a feeling something came up at work and that’s why you were late.”

The sigh of relief that escaped him must have been in him for a while, his whole body relaxing a little more after you said that. “Thank you for looking after her. This won’t happen again, at all. Uhm..Ms…?”

“Oh! Sorry, Y/n. Y/n L/n, Ara’s teacher. Since she’s in my class.” You over explained just like he did, thankfully he had a sense of humor since he let out a soft breathy laugh. “Again, don’t worry at all, I understand. Things happen sometimes.” You eased him, smiling gently as he grabbed Ara’s little hand, helping her out of her chair.

“Yeah…but thank you…still.” He said one last time, leaning down to pick his daughter up before propping her on his hip. Her little hand went to his hair immediately, tugging softly as he pulled his head away, smiling at her. They left the room, chatting softly as he walked back down the hall to exit through the front office. Sitting at your desk, you opened your computer, preparing your slideshow for your afternoon class on how to make a pretty sunset with pastels, but the only thing you could think about…

He had really pretty hair.

______________________________________________________________

“Wait, wait, wait- rewind. You’re telling me that you were face to face with a DILF and did nothing?!” Rose practically yelled as you walked together down the hall towards the parking lot.

“Okay, let’s not call him that…he’s still the father of my student. It feels wrong calling him something so…vulgar?” You squeemed while fumbling for your keys. “Plus, what was I supposed to do? His kid was right there, it’s not like I could’ve just jumped his bones right there.”

She glanced at you from the corner of her eyes, a small smirk on her lips as she grabbed her own keys out of her bag. “Well, I’m just saying, maybe he would’ve been into that. Having you get all up on him, nice and close and just-” You shoved her away playfully, laughing as you watched her mimic some sort of makeout session.

“There is no way that would've happened! Again, Rose, you’re forgetting this was the first time I’ve ever actually talked to the guy. It’s not like some magical thing is gonna happen to make us instantly fall in love.” She pushed open the doors to the front office, a shiver running down your spine as the cool breeze hit your face. You unlocked your car, standing by the driver’s door as you spoke again. “This is real life, not some romance book that’s gonna have me sweeped off my feet by the end of it.”

“Yeah, yeah…” She waved a dismissive hand, opening her car door before poking her head out again. “I’m just saying, it’s been a while for you since you’ve dated, so why not try out the awkward, DILF of a dad?”

“Have a good night, Rose.”

All you could hear was her laughter as you got in and closed your own door.

______________________________________________________________

Mondays are the worst.

It’s almost like a sick joke - you wake up and feel like it’s gonna be a productive day, but instead, your makeup looked trashy, your favourite shirt that you were supposed to wear today had a stain on it, your coffee machine was broken, and your car wouldn’t start for a good twenty minutes.

So yeah, it’s a lovely day.

“I am so sorry, Rose! Thank you for watching over my class, I swear I’ll be there soon.” You rambled quickly, looking both ways on the road before taking a left.

“Girl, relax, it’s okay. Could you pick me up a coffee though? Didn’t have time to make my own today.” You could hear her shuffling around, probably in your desk to find the spelling sheets you had ready for your students.

“Of course, I was gonna pick one up anyway.” Your voice came out as a murmur, trying to focus on the road so you didn’t add another problem to your list of issues today.

There was some sort of sound that came from her side of the call, something between a hum and squeal of delight. “There’s one coffee place that’s not too far from the school, The Quiet Bean, reaaaaally cute place!”

The Quiet Bean? People are getting creative nowadays…After a few more minutes of talking - you telling her what she should start the kids on, and her telling you where the shop is - you finally hung up. Plugging in the address of the coffee shop, you pulled up to a small shop. It was the sort of place that invited you in without making a scene. Its façade was a blend of weathered brick and soft, taupe-painted wood, the kind that had aged gracefully, like it had stories to tell. The large windows were framed in simple, cream-colored trim, their panes reflecting the faintest light of the afternoon sun. A faint trace of ivy crept up along the edges, as if nature itself had taken a liking to this quiet little corner of the world.

The café’s sign hung above the door, a modest wooden board with the name The Quiet Bean painted in elegant, flowing script. The letters, accented by a small, delicate illustration of a steaming coffee cup, as though to beckon you inside with the promise of something warm and comforting. It wasn’t flashy, but there was something undeniably welcoming about it, something that whispered of calm moments and good company.

As you stepped closer, the faint scent of lavender and earth drifted from a row of mismatched flower boxes, their colors a soft mix of greens and purples. Small, bistro-style tables were scattered outside, their wrought-iron chairs empty for now, but ready to welcome anyone looking to enjoy the sun with a cup in hand.

Pulling the door open, you were met with a strong scent of freshly brewed coffee and pastries. Your eyes widened as you looked around, taking in the detail of the shop and taking note of every little detail that was put into building it. You slowly approached the counter, eyes trained on the display of sweets. God, they looked delicious. It was as if everywhere you turned there was something new you noticed - now, it was the simple yet captivating writing on the menu board that hung above the counter. Why was writing captivating you? Nevermind.

You glanced around, a few people were sitting at tables, enjoying a warm coffee with a sweet treat, but no one behind the counter. Your brows furrowed softly, tilting your head to try and see if someone was lingering behind the walkway to the back of the coffee shop, but there was no one. You reached forward, tapping the small bell that sat beside one of the pastry display cases, the high pitched shrill sound making you jump slightly.

A guy, wiping his hands on the towel that hung from his apron quickly rounded the corner. His blonde hair tied into a small bun as he looked up. Those eyes…the wide doe ones that seemed all too familiar. The ones that held the universe…where had you seen them before? “Welcome to The Quiet Bea-” The man’s voice cut off as he stood there staring at you, his round eyes widening slightly. “M-Ms. Y/n…what…you’re…”

It clicked. Those eyes, the ones you have to look at every single day, the same ones Ara had. “Mr. Jeon, it’s…uhm, hello.” Why was this so embarrassing? This was just like when you saw a teacher outside of school and didn’t know how to act. Holy hell. “Sorry…sorry, good morning.”

His cheeks tinted a light pink, the sound of him clearing his throat sounded through the small cafe, you watched him cringe from the sound. “G-Good morning…I’m sorry, I just wasn’t expecting…never mind.” He shook his head, a few strands of his blonde hair framing his face as he approached the cash register. “What can I get for you?”

“Just two lattes please.” You smiled, gaze wandering off to the side as you eyed the pastries again. As if on cue, your stomach rumbled, causing you to freeze and Jungkook to glance up at you from the register. A soft chuckle escaped his lips as he leaned forward on the counter, a small tilt to his head. “Did you maybe want some food, too? Our pistachio croissants are really good, if I do say so myself.”

Now it was your turn to turn pink, a sheepish smile spreading across your face as you nodded. “I’ll take two of those, too, please.” He nodded, a smile still lingering on his face as he used the tons to grab out two of the fresh croissants. Placing the bag on the counter, he turned his back to you as he started on the coffees.

As you stood there, it was hard not to notice how wide his back was. It was the perfect size to his waist which was - surprisingly - small. And not to mention the way his shirt hugged his chest and torso, there was practically nothing left for the imagination, there was even a teasingly small amount of tattoos shown that littered his right hand, and you just knew there were more. Maybe Mondays aren't so bad. I mean, you got to see that perfect ass- okay, no. Stop it! That is still your student's dad!

He turned around, two coffees in hand as he placed them on the counter, tapping something into the register before telling you your total. You pulled out your card, tapping it on the card machine before situating yourself to grab everything. “Uh…I don’t mean to be, like, that one parent…but why is the teacher of my daughter here getting coffee when school has already started?”

“Oh, so you were one of the kids that was always on time to class.” You said with a small smile, looking down into your wallet as you placed your card back into its proper place. “I was having a bad morning, running late. But my friend, who’s a teacher as well, is watching over my class. She wanted a coffee.” You wiggled your finger at the cup, a smile on your face that wouldn’t go away for some reason.

It was impossible not to giggle at the way his brows furrowed and his bottom lip pouted from your comment. “I was not ‘one of those kids.’” He crossed his arms, looking at you as you grabbed the coffees and bag that held your pastries. “If it means anything…I hope you have a better day.” His voice was like honey, something so sweet, you never wanted it to disappear.

“Thank you…I hope the same for you, Mr. Jeon.”

“Please, call me Jungkook!” Even his smile was sweet…fuck.

Just as you were about to exit the shop, you turned, using your back to push the door open. “Alright then, Jungkook. And call me, Y/n…I’m not your teacher.” Your last words left him going red again, and to your unease, it was a sight you wouldn’t mind seeing again. ______________________________________________________________

As the warm afternoon sunlight streamed through the windows of your classroom, casting a comforting glow over the tidy rows of desks, Rose settled into the chair across from you, a concerned expression etched on her face. The air was filled with the faint scent of chalk and the distant hum of the air conditioning vent.

"Y/n, you're not going to tell me what's going on, are you?" Rose asked, her voice gentle but probing. You hesitated, fidgeting with the edge of the paper bag as you took a bite of your croissant. Damn they were good. They were alone in the classroom during their lunch break, the door locked securely behind them.

Rose's eyes narrowed as she watched your flustered movements. "Come on, spill it," she urged, her voice a gentle coaxing. You took another bite, your eyes avoiding Rose's inquiring gaze. "It's just...I saw Jungkook at the coffee shop this morning…Ara’s dad," you mumbled around a mouthful of food, eyes darting back to Rose.

Rose's eyebrows shot up. "That coffee shop? Where you got our lattes?" You nodded, your cheeks flushing. Rose's expression turned thoughtful as she leaned in, her voice taking on a conspiratorial tone. "So you saw Hot DILF again?"

Your eyes widened in alarm, hastily causing you to look around the room as if ensuring they were truly alone. "Rose, please, don't say that out loud," You whispered, voice laced with a mixture of embarrassment and fear. Rose chuckled, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

"What's wrong? You're not going to date him, are you?" It was almost as if this was the day you couldn’t stop blushing. Your face turned bright red as you hastily shook her head, your ponytail bobbing in time. "Of course not, I'm just...I'm just saying, he's a great guy, from what I’ve seen, but...but it's just a rule, you know?" Your words tumbled out in a rush, your voice growing more agitated by the second.

Rose's expression turned to understanding, and she reached out to place a reassuring hand on your arm. "I get it, I really do. You've always said no to dating single parents, and I respect that. But...it's just so hard when you're around him, isn't it?" Your eyes dropped, looking away, your face burning with a mix of embarrassment and longing.

Rose's gentle words hung in the air, and you felt your heart racing as you tried to process her emotions. You couldn't deny it - you had felt a flutter in her chest when you saw Jungkook, and it wasn't just because you were worried about being professional around him. You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down and rationalize your feelings.

"I don't know, Rose," You said finally, voice barely above a whisper. "It's just...he's really nice, and easy to talk to...it's just hard to ignore the fact that he's Ara’s dad."

Rose nodded understandingly, her expression sympathetic. "I know, I know. And it's not like you can just...ignore the fact that he's cute, either," she added with a sly smile, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

You playfully rolled your eyes, trying to deflect the attention from your flustered state. "Yeah, real help, Rose. You're not making this any easier for me."

Rose laughed, her eyes shining with mirth. "Sorry, sorry. I just want you to be happy, and if that means being around Mr. Hot DILF...I mean, Jungkook...then so be it."

A smile spread across your face, feeling a warmth spread through her chest at her words. "Thanks, Rose. You're a good friend."

As they chatted, you couldn't help but think about Jungkook's warm smile and gentle laugh. You pushed the thoughts away, reminding yourself of the rule and the reasons behind it. But you couldn't shake the feeling that you had crossed a line, and that your attraction to Jungkook was more than just a harmless infatuation.

The lunch bell rang, shattering the peaceful atmosphere in the classroom. As they made their way to the classroom door, Rose leaned in, her voice low and conspiratorial. "Hey, Y/n? Just out of curiosity...what do you think would happen if you did date him?"

Your eyes widened in alarm, and you quickly shot Rose a warning glance. "Rose, don't even say that. I already told you I'm not going to date him, so let's just drop it, okay?"

Rose held up her hands in mock surrender. "Okay, okay. No more talking about Jungkook. Let's just focus on surviving through the day and parent-teacher interviews. How ‘bout that?"

You smiled, feeling a mix of relief and gratitude towards your friend. "Sounds like a plan to me."

______________________________________________________________

The faint echo of footsteps grew louder in the quiet hallway as you straightened up at your desk, glancing at the clock. The dim lights above flickered softly, casting a warm glow that illuminated the classroom filled with colorful student artwork. It was the night of parent-teacher interviews, and your heart raced in anticipation and anxiety. Each appointment was a gateway to success and growth, but tonight felt different. Tonight, you faced the sight of a certain single father…again.

As you set out fresh papers and a cup of coffee—mostly meant to ward off your own nerves—you tried to shake off the flutter twisting in your stomach. You had told Rose you wouldn’t get involved with parents, yet here you were, feeling exhilaratingly torn between professionalism and a sudden spike of anticipation.

The gentle knock on the door pulled you from your swirl of thoughts. “Come in!” you called, your voice steadying to mask your racing heart. The knob turned, and Jungkook stepped inside, his tall figure silhouetted against the hallway light. He looked slightly rumpled in a casual white fisherman’s sweater and jeans, as if he had just finished a long day balancing work and parenting. His sandy hair fell over his forehead, giving him an endearing boyishness.

“Hi, Y/n,” Jungkook said softly, his voice low and a little shy. He shifted between his feet, running a hand through his hair, and for a moment, you felt as though the air in the room thickened with something—tension, attraction, or perhaps, an endless stream of unspoken words.

“Hi, Jungkook! Thank you for coming,” You replied, trying to maintain the professional tone you’d rehearsed in your mind. “Please, have a seat.”

He hesitated for just a moment before sinking into the chair opposite your desk, glancing around the room and admiring the colorful projects that adorned the walls. “It’s nice to see what you’ve done with the place. Ara talks about it all the time,” he said, a smile creeping onto his face that lit up his eyes.

As you reviewed Ara’s progress report, you couldn’t help but feel Jungkook’s gaze lingering on you, like a gentle warmth wrapping around you. “She’s doing wonderfully, really. She’s bright, creative, and so full of energy,” You continued, your voice flowing with professional ease.

“That’s great to hear,” Jungkook replied, his fingers nervously tapping on the desk. “I mean… I worry about her sometimes, you know? Juggling everything has been—” He paused, biting his lip slightly as if searching for the right words. “—hard. But she loves coming to school.”

In that moment, you could see the affection etched on his face. His love for Ara was so palpable, so tender, that it made your heart swell. “You’re doing an amazing job as a father,” you blurted out before you could catch yourself.

A flush crept into Jungkook's cheeks, and he chuckled shyly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Thanks. I still feel like I have so much to learn,” he said, glancing away, his honesty disarming you.

“I think it’s a continuous journey for all parents,” You replied, forcing yourself to ignore the way your heart fluttered at his vulnerability. You forced herself to focus on Ara’s achievements, highlighting the areas where she could improve.

Yet with each laugh Jungkook shared, with each genuine word of praise he offered about his daughter, you found it harder to keep your feelings at bay. The chemistry crackled between them, threatening to bridge the gap of professionalism that you had once held sacred.

“I don’t know how I can ever thank you for what you do,” Jungkook said suddenly, a sincere expression on his face. “I feel like Ara has blossomed since she started in your class.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Jungkook,” You spoke softly, heart racing as you met his gaze. “It’s my job and my passion.”

He leaned back in the chair, taking a moment before asking softly, “But what about you? Do you… do you enjoy being a teacher?”

You nodded, feeling a stirring inside you—a mix of admiration and a desire for connection that you fought to suppress. “I really do,” you confessed. “It's a rewarding experience, but...” You hesitated for a moment, knowing your feelings threatened to slip from your grasp. “It can be challenging at times.”

“Yeah, life can be tough,” Jungkook replied, his voice low. “But I guess we all find our way through it.”

Their eyes locked for a heartbeat longer than necessary, and you felt an electric jolt, a silent understanding passing between them. But just as quickly, you pulled yourself back, focusing instead on the paperwork scattered across your desk.

“I believe Ara will continue to thrive under your guidance,” Jungkook said, attempting to break the growing tension.

“Absolutely,” You agreed, feeling the flicker of excitement mingled with anxiety. “If you have any concerns, please don’t hesitate to reach out.”

Jungkook smiled, the warmth in his expression making your pulse quicken, and you couldn’t help but smile back, even as reality settled back in. They were from two different worlds, tethered by the innocent bond of a daughter between them, and you knew you had to tread carefully.

“Thank you for your time,” Jungkook finally said, rising from his seat, his voice a blend of gratitude and something softer, like an unexpressed hope. “I really appreciate it.”

As he turned to leave, you felt a mix of longing and resolve. “You’re welcome, Jungkook. Have a great evening,” You managed to say, your heart heavy with unspoken feelings and the sensation of his presence lingering in the room long after he had gone.

With a sigh, you sank back into your chair, trying to reclaim your professional demeanor, fully aware that this was only the beginning of a journey you had carefully set herself against. And yet, without a doubt, it felt exhilarating and terrifying all at once.

The echo of Jungkook’s footsteps faded down the hallway as you sat back in your chair, staring blankly at the stack of papers on your desk. The soft, dim light of the classroom wrapped around you like a cocoon, but instead of feeling comforted, your thoughts spiraled into chaotic disarray. Your heart still raced at the memory of his shy smile and the way his gaze warmed you, sending unexpected flutters coursing through your chest.

“Okay, Y/n. Let’s think this through,” you murmured to yourself, pushing your chair back a bit to pace. You took a deep breath, holding your head high as you began your internal debate, your footsteps echoing softly against the tiled floor.

Pros:

1. He’s Kind: Jungkook showed genuine concern for Ara’s well-being; that spoke volumes about his character.

2. He’s a Good Father: Seeing how much he adored his daughter made your heart melt. A man who values family is definitely an attractive trait.

3. We Have Chemistry: The connection was palpable during your meeting, the kind that sent thrills of excitement coursing through you.

Cons:

1. He’s Ara’s Father: You would always have that complex dynamic, which could complicate everything. What if things went wrong? The relationship with Ara would be at stake.

2. Professional Boundaries: As a teacher, you reminded yourself constantly of the boundaries that existed between you and the parents. Getting involved with a parent could lead to gossip and drama.

3. Could She Actually Do This? You didn’t want to enter the dating world and find yourself getting hurt. There was so much at stake, and discretion was key.

The rhythm of your footsteps quickened, your thoughts tumbling into a whirlwind of confusion.

“No, no, no.” You held her temples, trying to massage away the tension that gnawed at you. “You can’t think like this. You would be crossing a line, Y/n. Your job is to inspire and educate, not fall for the parents!”

You paused, catching your breath, feeling the weight of your emotions. “But—what if this is something special?” An involuntary smile sneaked onto your face at the thought of Jungkook’s easy laughter, the way he nervously fidgeted in his chair, and the sincere glances he offered. “What if…he’s different?”

Your heart raced again, and you bit your lip, taking another deep breath to steady yourself. You have dedicated yourself to your career. You loved teaching and the bonds you created with your students. But you also felt the longing for companionship, for someone who would truly understand your heart, your struggles, and your dreams.

You found your way back to the desk, grabbing the paper you had written notes on about Ara. It was filled with nothing but good observations and bright notes that showcased the little girl’s personality. “This is about Ara, too,” you whispered, glancing at the portrait Ara had drawn of you standing beside her at the school. You had never looked better as a stick figure.

“Could I do this?” you inquired softly, staring out the window at the fading sunlight. “Would this be fair to Ara? To him?” You closed your eyes for a moment, trying to visualize yourselves together, the gentle kind heartedness belying a deeper connection that tethered you.

Footsteps interrupted your reverie, and you looked up to see Rose peeking through the door. “Y/n?” she called softly, stepping inside. The infectious energy of her friend brightened the room. “I saw Jungkook leave. How did it go?”

Your internal debate halted as you met Rose's eager gaze, the warmth of friendship wrapping around you like a comforting embrace. “It was... interesting,” You replied slowly, trying to sort through the flood of emotions that threatened to spill over.

“What does that mean? Was he flirty?” Rose raised an eyebrow, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

You shook your head, your cheeks flushing slightly. “No, it wasn’t like that. We just talked about Ara and her progress. But there’s this…connection, Rose. It’s hard to explain.”

“Do you like him?” Rose leaned forward, her excitement palpable, her curiosity evident.

“I don’t know! I mean, I shouldn’t, right?” You sighed, throwing your hands up in exasperation. “He’s Ara’s dad, and I’m her teacher. There are boundaries, Rose!”

“But do you want to explore those boundaries? You said it yourself; it’s a connection!” Rose's voice rose slightly, her enthusiasm inexhaustible. “You only live once, Y/n!”

“Why are you so supportive of this? Are you trying to get me into trouble?” You chuckled, trying to lighten the mood, but you felt the weight of Rose’s words pressing upon you.

“Maybe I am!” Rose teased, crossing her arms. “But look, if you feel something for him, that could be something worth exploring. Relationships don’t always lead to disaster, you know. Sometimes, they lead to wonderful things.”

You chewed your lip, your heart fluttering at the prospect. “But what if I mess it up? What if I ruin things with Ara and her dad?”

“I think Ara would be happy if he found someone who makes him smile,” Rose asserted confidently. “And if that someone happens to be you...well, then that’s just a bonus!”

Looking down at your desk, pondering the vibrant artwork that Ara had drawn, you felt a gentle surge of hope amidst the confusion. Maybe there was a chance for something beautiful—if you could just take the leap.

“All right,” You said finally, fortifying yourself. “I’ll think about it. But I have to be careful...for Ara’s sake. And for my own.”

“Smart girl.” Rose grinned, her eyes twinkling with excitement. “Now, let’s plan how to help you catch his attention.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the tension lifting slightly as you felt the warmth of Rose’s friendship. As they began to chat and brainstorm about playful ways to show your interest, you felt a new storm of possibility unfurling in your heart—one that you could no longer pretend to ignore. ______________________________________________________________

After leaving your classroom, Jungkook leaned against the cold, tiled wall of the hallway, taking a moment to catch his breath. The sound of his heart thudding loudly in his chest seemed to resonate in the quiet space around him. What just happened? He couldn't shake the feeling of exhilaration mingled with a flicker of anxiety as memories of their conversation flooded his mind.

He rubbed a hand across his neck, still feeling the heat rising to his cheeks—a bashful evidence of how easily flustered he had become in your presence. Your smile, your laughter, the way your eyes lit up when you spoke about Ara—it was utterly charming. Why did she have to be so captivating?

His thoughts immediately twisted into a flurry of whims. Honestly, how could someone be so effortlessly beautiful? Your enthusiasm about teaching resonated deep within him; he admired how you handled the classroom, how you brought warmth and light to every interaction. The way you carelessly tucked a strand of hair behind your ear made his heart flutter. He relished in the thought that you cared so deeply for his daughter; it filled him with a swell of appreciation that lingered a little too long in his chest.

But then there was that chemistry, that intoxicating vibe that seemed to hum in the air between them. Jungkook winced slightly, aware that he was entering dangerous territory. Your laugh had tugged at something deep inside him—a longing that he rarely dared to face. Could he be falling for you? The thought was both thrilling and unsettling.

His mind wandered to the moment their eyes met, the way you had smiled at him as if you were sharing a secret, a moment just for the two of them amidst the world. Thoughts he knew he shouldn’t entertain slipped through like silk ribbons, tightening around his chest. What would it feel like to hold her? To run his fingers through her hair, to pull her close and whisper sweet nothings in her ear?

Jungkook pressed his lips together, forcing the blush creeping up his neck to subside. Damn it, Jungkook. Focus on Ara! But the image of you was stubborn, filling his thoughts with mischievous imaginings—your laughter echoing in his ears, your soft, inviting gaze lingering in his mind.

He imagined you tucked against him on a lazy Sunday morning, sunlight streaming through the window casting dappled shapes on your skin, and he couldn't help but wonder if you would look up at him in that soft, sleepy kind of way—your hair tousled, and that peaceful smile gracing your features. God, he would do anything for that smile.

His heart raced at those thoughts. Was it wrong to want more? The deeper he delved into his fantasies, the more he wondered if he could truly let someone in again. The idea of developing a connection with you was thrilling but terrifying.

But what if it went well? What if he got to know the woman behind the teacher façade? What if they clicked like he suspected they might? A sudden image of their hands intertwined danced in his mind, the warmth radiating from your soft fingers sending shivers down his spine. He imagined kissing you—a slow, intimate exploration that left you both breathless, your hearts racing in sync.

His body reacted even to the thought, and Jungkook groaned softly, shaking his head at the direction his mind had taken. He just wanted to know more about you—the fear and the thrill of the unknown gnawing at him as he paced in place. Was he ready to join the dating world again? To risk his heart?

Jungkook glanced down the hallway, half-expecting you to appear again with that mesmerizing smile. He exhaled slowly, trying to calm the whirlwind that churned within him. You had met as teacher to parent, you were cautious in your own ways, but there was something in your gaze, the spark of possibility daring him to breach the barrier.

“Just take it slow,” he whispered to himself, trying to ignore the overwhelming desire unfurling within him like a curtain drawn back to reveal a dazzling stage. “She’s worth it.”

In his mind’s eye, he could see your face, lit with warmth and kindness, exhibited perfectly in the classrooms where you worked magic with children. But he wanted you outside of the school, in the real world, where they could be themselves.

With another deep breath, he turned and walked away from the classroom, his heart still racing and the ambitious thoughts whirling inside his mind. The night air hit him like a splash of cold water, grounding him, reminding him that this was just the beginning of something he knew could change everything. And as he left the school grounds, he couldn't shake the feeling that he wanted to do whatever it took to make sure he saw you again. ______________________________________________________________

The restaurant was awash in golden candlelight, casting flickering shadows on the walls adorned with tasteful art. The hum of conversation intermingled with the clinking of silverware, creating a cozy atmosphere that settled around the tables like a warm embrace. Jungkook had arrived early, wearing a fitted navy sweater that accentuated his figure and dark jeans—not too formal, but just enough to speak of a thoughtful effort. Tonight was important.

He twisted his napkin nervously in his lap as he surveyed the room, his gaze darting to the entrance. How do you prepare for a date with someone you genuinely like? It had been several weeks since they started talking, gradually letting layers peel away to reveal their authentic selves, and now here they were, on the brink of something new.

As if summoned by his thoughts, you walked in, your presence radiant in a deep emerald dress that hugged your curves and made you look effortlessly elegant. Your hair cascaded in soft waves, and when their eyes met, a bright smile danced across your lips—a smile that made Jungkook’s heart skip a beat.

“Hey,” you greeted, your voice warm and inviting as you approached the table.

“Hey! You look amazing,” Jungkook found himself saying, his cheeks warming at the earnestness in his tone.

“Thanks! You too!” You replied, taking your seat across from him, the evening lighting casting a gentle glow on your features.

Jungkook tried to shake off the nerves, but it was hard not to stumble over his words as their waiter arrived. “Good evening! Can I start you off with something to drink?”

“Uh, yes! I’d like a glass of red wine, please,” Jungkook said, his hands fidgeting on the table beneath the napkin.

“Same for me,” You chimed in, your openness making it easier for him to remember how to breathe.

As they sipped their wine and exchanged laughter, they discussed everything—their favorite movies, childhood memories, and even the quirks of teaching that made them both laugh aloud. But as the conversation flowed, Jungkook felt the slight pressure of anticipation build in his chest, the electric tension flickering like a candle in the wind.

“So, what’s been the best part of your week?” he asked, hoping to keep the conversation light while his nerves simmered beneath the surface.

You leaned forward, eyes sparkling. “Well, this week we were doing some more basic spelling skills. And there was one point, where I said that our class was gonna have a small spelling bee competition against the other Kindergarten class. Ara took it a little too seriously, she started buzzing like a bee after every word she spelled.”

Jungkook chuckled, picturing the adorable scene. “Oh God, is that why she came home and couldn’t stop buzzing around? I mean, at least she’s remembering to spell more words correctly…she rewards herself by buzzing a little each time.”

“Well, she does have a great teacher,” you teased, your eyes locking onto his with that playful glimmer.

Jungkook felt the heat rushing up his neck. “I’m just trying to keep up with your class levels,” he said with a grin.

Their connection felt tangible, fragile yet electric. Jungkook summoned his courage as the waiter returned with their meals. “It looks great. I hope it tastes great,” he said, lifting his fork, eager to divert his nervous energy.

As they began to eat, Jungkook was distraught to discover that his mouth seemed to have developed a mind of its own. “So, I was thinking maybe—I mean, if you’re interested—” he stumbled through the heavy words, glancing at her, “we could visit that new art exhibit next weekend? Or maybe a picnic? I’m definitely up for a picnic.”

Your brows raised in surprise, a smile breaking across your face. “I’d love that! An art exhibit sounds fantastic.”

Jungkook exhaled, relief washing over him. They continued chatting, light and airy, until a relaxed silence fell between them. An idea struck him, and he leaned closer, teasingly, “You know, you’re making this date really easy. I thought I’d be sweating bullets.”

Just as the words left his mouth, careless and relaxed, he slipped. “I guess I just feel comfortable, baby girl…”

His voice trailed off in horror as his brain caught up with his mouth. Did he really just call you that? His cheeks blazed a deep shade of crimson, eyes widening as he braced himself for your reaction.

You blinked, pausing mid-bite, amusement dancing in your eyes. “Wow, that was unexpected. Do I look like a baby girl to you?”

Jungkook’s face burned, a thousand apologies spiraling through his mind. “I-I didn’t mean it like—! I mean, you’re—!” He stumbled over his words, rendering himself a stammering mess.

You couldn’t help but chuckle, clearly amused, leaning forward as if to ease his embarrassment. “It’s okay, Jungkook. I kinda liked it, actually. It’s sweet.”

His initial panic spilled over into relief, but the flirty undertone hung between them, making the air around them more charged. Under the table, his heart raced as he played with the hem of his own sweater, unsure whether he was feeling flustered or exhilarated.

He took a deep breath, trying to regain control. “Well, um, you are adorable, so I guess it fits—just not in the way I set it up!”

“Do you think I’m adorable, huh?” You teased, your playful confidence radiating from you. Your gaze held a challenge, one that made his heart race anew.

“Not just adorable,” he clarified, leaning in slightly, feeling the heat of her presence. “You’re… captivating. Thoughtful. Kind. And it’s…” he hesitated, a smirk creeping onto his face, “dangerously charming.”

You bit your lip, eyes glimmering with intrigue, every inch of your body language inviting him closer. “Dangerously charming, huh? Is that a compliment or a warning?”

“Both,” Jungkook said, letting the tension linger in the air, a quiet challenge exchanged between them. As if he were testing the waters before diving in. “How about you tell me something about yourself that could potentially get us both in trouble?”

This time, you laughed, and it echoed around their cozy corner of the restaurant. The flirtation was undeniable, thickening the air as they engaged in the dance of unspoken desires. Finally, it seemed like this date might indeed lead somewhere—somewhere beautifully unexpected, where the two of them could explore the chemistry that had sparked between them.

With their plates nearly empty and glasses refilled, you glanced over at him, a light blush dusting over your cheeks. Under the table, you let your foot caress up and down his calf, watching how he paused halfway through paying for the bill to look at you with a tilted head. You turned your head away, resting it in your palm as you continued your movements, hearing how Jungkook’s breathing changed from light and even to heavier and quicker.

“What’re you doing…?” He asked quietly, cheeks burning a red colour as he sunk into his chair a little more. You shrugged your shoulders, looking away again, the intensity of the situation making it hard to stare directly at him.

The sound of chair legs scraping against the floor made you finally look back at him. His cheeks were a dark red, a hand extended towards you as he helped you out of your chair, pushing it in before slowly walking with you. A shaky hand was placed around your waist, sending tingles all throughout your body, it was clear Jungkook was nervous, but it was also clear he wanted something else. Craved something else.

“Jungkook, are yo-”

“Do you want to come back to my place?” He asked hurriedly but softly, his eyes staring into yours as he waited for your response. “I know it’s inappropriate to ask, especially since it’s only our first date, but you just…you look really good in your dress, like, really, really good- and…and…”

He looked as if he were about to lose his mind if you didn’t speak soon. You carefully cupped his face, brushing your thumbs along his cheeks as you spoke. “Hey, relax…it’s okay. You can breathe…” You calmed him down, his hands coming up to hold your forearms gently, taking in deep breaths. “I..I would love to…go back to your place, I mean. But…what about Ara?”

“She’s with her uncles…Namjoon and Jin promised to look after her.” He said breathlessly, his eyes looking everywhere on your face at once, taking in as much detail as possible as if he were trying to engrain an image of you into his mind.

“Am I supposed to know who those people are, or?” He shook his head, a small laugh escaping his lips as he leaned forward, resting his forehead against yours before pulling away.

“They’re my friends that helped me raise her. Also work at the cafe.” He mumbled, bouncing a little as he looked at the parking lot. “ I really love sharing things with you, but I’m about to lose my mind if I don’t have you soon…so…my car is over there.” He said, pointing over to a black car parked a little further away from the restaurant.

There wasn’t a lot of time between getting in the car, the drive to his place, and getting inside his place. As soon as you stepped foot inside the threshold, Jungkook was grabbing you, needy hands grabbing at your waist as he looked at you, quietly asking for permission to kiss you. You barely nodded before he gently pressed his lips against yours, the kiss was firm yet soft, everything you expected from him.

“God…” He whispered against your lips, cupping your face as he kissed you again, groaning from how good you were. “You’re so perfect…so, so perfect.”

A soft giggle escaped you, pulling back so you were face to face with him, “You’ve barely kissed me, how can you know I’m perfect?” You asked, following mindlessly as he dragged you to the bedroom.

“Because.”

“Because?”

“Yes, ‘because.’ Don’t ruin the moment.”

You could hear the smile in his voice as he kissed you again, lifting you slightly to place you on the bed. His hands moved to your waist, squeezing and kneading the flesh under your dress. His lips slowly moved from your lips to your jaw, peppering soft kisses all along your skin. His left hand grabbed your chin, turning your head to the side so he had more room to find the spots that made you shiver. “Your skin’s so soft, baby girl…”

The feeling of his lips latching onto your skin made you shiver, feeling the slight suction as he sucked a mark into your skin, his tongue soothing the area afterwards. He hovered above you, arms propping himself up so he didn’t squish you completely, not that you’d mind.

“Fuck…Jungkook…” You whimpered, feeling him smirk against your skin. He pulled away, eyes meeting yours as he pressed another soft kiss to your lips.

“Can I take your dress off?” If he wasn’t breathless before, he sure was now, panting as he waited for permission. “Please, I wanna see your pretty body, baby.”

You managed to nod, propping yourself up so he could reach back and unzip your dress. His fingers gently grasped your sleeves, pulling the forward as the top half of your dress slid off your body. The sound that left his lips made your panties damper than before, his eyes focused solely on your bare breasts. “Oh shit…no bra?”

“Didn’t have one that worked with the dress.” You replied, finding it hard to stare at him head on. Jungkook seemed to notice this, his hands cupping your face again, focusing on your eyes as he spoke softly.

“Hey, you don’t have to be embarrassed or anything…you have the hottest body ever. Like, ever. I mean, you just showed me your bare tits and I almost came.” With his admission his cheeks tinted pink, but he didn’t pay any mind to it, instead focusing on you. “If you ever feel uncomfortable, just tell me. Okay? I’ll stop right away.”

His gaze slowly went back to your tits, his thumbs resting just under your breasts, brushing against the soft skin before fully grasping them in his hands. You let out a breathless moan, eyes fluttering closed as you relished in his touch. It wasn’t long after that he had you out of that dress and your panties, being stripped down to only his boxers himself. His face was level with your pussy, lips pressing soft kisses against your inner thighs as he edged closer and closer to the place you needed him most.

He darted his tongue out, licking a stripe down your folds, before making contact with your clit. The moans you let out egged him on more, pressing his face further into your cunt without any care in the world. The sloppy sounds that came from his mouth on your pussy was borderline pornographic. He used his fingers to part your folds, paying as much attention to your clit as possible. After a few minutes he pulled back, taking a few quick breaths before tugging you closer to the edge of the bed. He noticed the way you were gripping the sheets, how your eyes were screwed shut in pleasure.

“Aww, are you close, baby girl? Does my good girl wanna cum?” He taunted, and all you could do was whine and nod.

Your eyes were glossy as you opened them again, looking down at him to see the bottom half of his face covered in your juices. “Please… Please, wanna cum…wanna cum for you…” You moaned, blindly reaching for one of his hands.

He got the idea, intertwining your fingers with his as he rested them just above your pelvic bone. He nipped at your inner thigh before licking another bold stripe up your sensitive folds, sucking your clit into his mouth. His tongue flicked over it slowly, steadily changing the rhythm to a pace that would bring you to the edge in an instant. With a few more flicks of his tongue, he had you coming undone on his tongue, slurping up every little bit of juice that leaked from your hole.

You laid on the bed, limp and breathless as you looked at him, watching him stand up straight and wipe the rest of your juices that were on his face on the back of his hand. “How’re you doing, baby?” He asked softly, kissing your cheeks a few times to make sure you were still with him.

You hummed softly, nodding as you pushed yourself up, connecting your lips with his in a slow and sensual kiss. Your hand snaked down to his boxers, barely rubbing against his hard-on before he grabbed your wrist gently. “If you do that, I’m gonna cum. And I want to cum while I’m inside you…”

The pout that formed on your face was inevitable, but you agreed, “Fine…but next time, you have to let me return the favour.”

His smirk grew as you insinuated there would be a next time. “Fine. Next time.” He kissed you again, fingers tangling in your hair as he groped your breasts again, groaning into the kiss. “I’m never gonna get over how soft your tits are…wanna fuck them.” He panted, rolling your nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

A breathless giggle escaped you, “Maybe next time…” He took the answer you gave him, kissing you once more before flipping you to be on your hands and knees, your face pressed into the mattress as he grabbed at your ass.

“Fuck, is there anything about you that isn’t perfect?” When he saw you turn your head and part your lips to respond, he spanked your cheek gently, grabbing it to massage after. “Don’t answer that.”

It almost happened too quickly, he got the condom, slipped it on and pushed into you gently, rocking his hips into yours to make sure you adjusted to him properly. His hand reached under you, cooing at you to part your legs slightly so he could play with your clit. The sensations of his fingers stimulating your clit mixed with the rocking of his cock in you, you were a lost cause.

“Mm, f-feels…so good…” You moaned into the mattress, feeling him speed up more, probably trying to chase his own high as well. Your walls fluttered around him, making him groan deeply, leaning forward to press a kiss between your shoulder blades. “Yeah? S’my cock that good for your little pussy? Hmm? Fuck, you take me so well…”

You whined, your walls tightening more around him, that knot in your lower belly slowly becoming too much to handle. “F- fuck…K-Kook, m’gonna cum…” You said in a high pitched tone, trying to hold back for him for as long as possible.

“Shhh, it’s okay, baby girl. Let go for me. I’m right there with you…” He encouraged you, thrusting into you faster as he kept rubbing your clit. Your moans melded together as you both came undone.

He kept pumping into you until he was sure you were satisfied, a gentle hand coming to your hips to stabilize you as he pulled out, listening to your soft whine. He hushed you sweetly, laying your hips down to the mattress as he quickly disposed of the used condom. He came back to the bed, curling up behind you, nuzzling his face into your neck as he breathed in your scent.

“Mmm, you’re so pretty…” He whispered drowsily, smiling softly as he heard you giggle. He loved that sound so much.

“Sure, I look so pretty with messy hair and sweat covering my body.” You groaned, shifting to get more comfortable. It was his turn to chuckle, his arms wrapping around you tighter.

“Yes, you do.” The moment of peace was disrupted by the doorbell ringing. He furrowed his brows, looking at you before towards the bedroom door. “Give me a minute, I’ll go see who it is.” He murmured, kissing your temple softly before getting up and pulling on his boxers from before.

He was gone for a few minutes, quiet chatter echoing through the house, but it wasn’t loud enough for me to hear. You wrapped the sheet around your body, tugging it securely around you as you got closer to the bedroom door. Then you could hear it, Jungkook’s voice stern and low, something you hadn’t heard from him before. But who was he talking to like that? And then you understood…

“I want to see my daughter.”

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audiovideodisco · 6 months ago

Text

I’m sorry I always said the wrong thing.

You have a crush on your Aussie colleague, but have given up on ever being his type, or even someone he respects. People never change, right?

cw: fatphobia, medical talk, negative self image if you squint, mildly suggestive, swearing

word count: 920

requested: no

sfw: yes

ship: robert chase x reader

characteristics: plus sized reader, g/n

You walk into Princeton Plainsboro with a coffee in hand and a face like a slapped bottom. Your patient was a fairly overweight teenager who had a heart problem, but despite the team - unsurprisingly - attempting to attribute the problems to their weight, that wasn’t the case. As a plus sized person, you felt sick coming into work for this case. House was making a point of asking you things that you couldn’t know about the patient - just because you’re fat… and Chase… well, that was the main thing. You knew how he felt about fat people, it was always a personal flaw. He hadn’t said anything awful yet but it reminded you that you’d never be good enough for him.

The case carried on as usual, treatments putting the young teens life in danger over and over, with no hope of a diagnosis, and then cure, in sight. The DDx office was eerily quiet, only the lights in the hall illuminating the table in front of you as you sat at the desk trying to think. After a few minutes of what felt like brooding rather than thinking, you hear footsteps, and then a swoosh of blonde hair enters the office.

“[Y/N]? What are you in here for? Why are you sitting in the dark…?” Chase asked as he came in to rifle through a drawer.

“It’s not dark, the hall light is enough.”

“That’s- are you… are you alright?”

Your head snaps up to see he’s stopped rifling through the drawer and appears to have what he came to look for. Instead of leaving, he’s looking directly at you with a mix of concern and curiosity. Quite frankly, it pisses you off, big time.

“I’m fine, Chase. Trying to think of what’s killing our patient, before they actually die because everyone else is so focused on their weight rather than-“

“Hey- woah- woah-“

You don’t let him continue his protest, taking a breath and composing yourself,

“House wants you to do an EKG.”

“He said that-?”

“Yeah.” He looked at you with his mouth agape for a second, before closing it, nodding and walking out.

The case continues, and eventually House is able to make a connection that saves the teenager’s life. It’s a relief that the case is over, and the teenager is going to be alright, but you can’t shake the horrible feeling in your stomach. The DDx office is empty again, so you go in there just to sort through your paperwork before going home.

“Hey…”

“What the fuck do you want, Chase?”

“Woah… have I done something?”

“Doesn’t matter, just leave me alone.”

He frowns but doesn’t leave, instead coming up behind you slowly and placing his hand gently on your shoulder. You flinch a little so he lifts his hand again, but when you don’t push him away, he puts it back again.

“What’s going on…?” He asks, almost in a whisper.

“Chase-“

“Was it this case? House?”

“I expect it from House, and you to be completely honest…”

He mentally scolds himself and sighs, trying gently guiding you to face him.

“I… I have said so shitty things before, I’ll admit… I didn’t know you knew…”

“What, so it’s okay as long as your one fat friend doesn’t hear it? Well that worked…”

“No- no- I… I was wrong. I’ve been wrong every time, whether just about the diagnosis, or the simple fact of that is none of my business… I’ve been trying to unlearn thinking and speaking like that- I-“

You stare at him a little shocked, his hand still on your shoulder as you now stand only a few inches apart. He looks down slightly at you, seeing the way your eyes glistened from angry tears that threatened to spill. He carries on speaking, his voice now even more hushed and soft,

“Not that I decided that I needed to sort my shit out because I met you- Uh, but… I… I really like you, actually.”

His heart pounds in his chest almost as loudly as yours as he searches your face for any sign of a response.

“I know I probably blew it, but… can I take you out, on, like, a date?”

“Are you serious, or is this-“

“I mean it. You’re…” Your faces are centimetres apart, his breath fanning against your lips as he struggles to finish his sentence, and his other hand finds its way to your waist to pull you closer.

“[Y/N]… I need you to tell me it’s okay to kiss you… I don’t want to cross a line you don’t want me to cross…”

Your chest heaves as you whisper,

“…yes.”

The kiss is tentative at first, Chase’s lips moving slowly to make sure you wanted this as much as he did. As you began to reciprocate with a bit more energy, he picked up the pace, bringing his hand from your shoulder to the nape of your neck, and pulling you as close to him as you could be-

“HEY!”

The loud shout makes you both pull apart, hands still on eachother, his hand threaded in your hair and yours in his chest. You look around you as you both try to catch you breaths, cringing when you lay your eyes on House.

“IF YOU WANT TO MAKE OUT, GET OUT OF MY OFFICE. ALSO- FUCK YOU. I OWE WILSON $50 NOW…”

House storms off, his cane tapping alongside his footsteps, and you both giggle as the tension fades.

#house md #james wilson #gregory house #hatecrimes md #greg house #robert chase #dr chase #robert chase x reader #chase x reader #plus sized reader #house md fanfiction

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petite-siren06 · 6 months ago

Text

Forced Heat [Fem Chubby Bunny Reader] {Smut + Fluff}

Image from Pinterest by: Ti✦na

CW: Breeding, Knotting..

Not Proofread

You're a bunny hybrid, the last of your kind and through the time in imprisonment in this laboratory you were cautious of everything that did. The food they gave you, the stares, the tests. Everything freaked you out. It took a long while for you to get used to your new living conditions. The scientist in charge made sure to give you a habitat that suited to your needs instead of putting you in a cell since you were the last of your species so they made sure to take extra special care of you. So why did they think to pair you with a predator species? That was the last thing you wanted and apparently he felt the same way. “Why am I paired up with this inferior creature?” The wolf hybrid snarled at the scientist. You could only frown at his harsh words. His words stung just because you were a prey species doesn’t mean you are less important than the predators. “We are trying to see if you two are compatible Matias. Don’t make this any harder than it has to be.” One of the scientists warned him. Matias huffs in annoyance as he stares at you.

He sits down on the opposite of you in the tiny cell they put both of you in. “So what’s special that they had to pair me up with a small and chubby thing like you?” Matias said as he scrutinized you harshly. “Beats me.. I don’t want to be here any more than you do so please can we get this done.” You tried extending an olive branch to him. “Fine but we somehow are compatible enough to be mates. I don't want to hear any complaints from you.” Matias said with harsh glare. “So what’s your name, little bunny?” “[Y/N], My name is [Y/N]..” You told him with an unreadable expression. “[Y/N]” He took a second to digest the information. “It seems to fit you nicely. Yeah, I like that name.” Matias said as his lips slightly twitched upwards. Your eyes raked over his body. He was fit and lean, he didn’t have too much muscle which was good but he also had a lot of scars. “I’m guessing you're a warrior? Judging from your scars.” You asked him with curiosity. His gaze seemed to harden once you spoke about his scars. Your eyes widen in slight panic from his reaction. Matias then let out a sigh. “Yes, I was one of the warriors of my clan. All my scars came from different battles.” He informed you. As he starts to ramble about his scars you choose to get closer to him. He continued to talk and talk until you made it to the other side and sat beside him.

You then grabbed his hand and when you did that seemed to grab his attention. You pressed soft kisses to his scarred hand. You could feel him tense up but he didn’t pull his hand away. A soft ding noise echoed through the room. The scientists then entered the room with clipboards in hand. “Congrats you two. You both are compatible to be mates.” One of the male scientists with a sly smirk. Matias wrapped an arm around your plush waist signaling the male scientist to watch his words. “Alright, I see you're already getting protective of her.” He said with a chuckle. “Alright, guards take them back to their rooms.” The other scientist called for the guards.As the guards escorted both you and Matias back to your room you gave him a small reassuring smile. He saw it and couldn’t help but smile back.

As time went on the scientist found that you and Matias were the best fit for each well and mostly because once two hybrids mate they won’t be compatible with anyone else. So one day they decided to do a specific test only with you and not Matias. “It’s just some medicine [Y/N] relax.” The scientist said in a reassuring tone as she held up a syringe. Although it didn’t look like medicine, you'd rather obey than go without dinner again. So you lifted your arm and let them stick the needle inside of you. They injected the “medicine” and it didn’t seem to take effect immediately you sighed thankfully. You were free to go back to your room but as you were escorted back to your room you couldn’t help but feel your body heat up.

Whatever they gave you it made you go into your heat faster than anticipated so you were humping anything you got your hands on.. Anything to make the aching feeling in your cunt go away but nothing seemed to be working. You whined in pain as you humped the pillow that was drenched in your slick. “Get her mate, we have enough data and she looks like she needs him.” One of the scientists told the guards. Soon you heard the door to your habitat open and you saw your mate and he looked beyond worried. “Pumpkin, I’m so sorry.. Here let me help you.” Matias said as he unzipped his pants and freed his cock. He took the pillow away from you and flipped you onto your back. He positions you into a mating press as he aligns his cock into your dripping sex. He hissed as he pushed himself into you. You could only groan as you wrapped your legs around him to pull him in deeper. Once fully inside you he started at a slow pace but then gradually sped up. “Gonna give you some pups but first gotta take care of my baby.” He cooed as he kissed your soft plump cheek. “God my baby is so perfect..” Matias whined as he felt you clench around him. “Focus on my cock honey, focus on how it fills you nicely and perfectly.” He encouraged you as he thrusted roughly instead of you causing you to cry out in pleasure. The sound of other hybrids in contaminate cheered Matias on as he continued to help you with your forced heat cycle.

Matias feels you tighten around him, he bites back a groan and he thrusts one last time before he paints your walls white, he orgasm triggers your own and you moan out his name as you creamed around his knotted cock. You start to whine as you feel the base of his cock start to swell inside of you. ”I know.. I know sweetheart this is just to help you a little bit more.” He reassured you as he nuzzled his face into your hair as he inhaled your sweet scent. Your body trembles as it slowly gets used to the stretch. After a few mins Matias’s knot swells down and he pulls out of you. You sighed in content as you felt his strong arms wrap around your chubby body. You felt him rub his hand over your chubby tummy. “Can’t wait to see your belly swell up with our pups.” He said affectionately as looked into your eyes. “I’ll protect you and our babies. I promise my love.” He said as he pressed his lips against yours. “I love you” He whispers against your lips.

Image from Pinterest by: Grafik Dizayn

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theeedarlingflame · 2 months ago

Text

shigaraki x chubby reader !!!（＾ω＾）

he’s been through a lot. the world is harsh and cold, but you—you are soft. you are warm and pliable in his hands. in his arms, you are his. in a world that has taken so much from him, a world in which he wants to crumble to dust, he wants you whole. he wants you forever.

at first, he pushes you away. he’s harsh to you—you’re some NPC toga picked off the street, after all. he doesn’t have to kind to you. he doesn’t care for you.

you pull your weight. you clean and cook for the league, you joke with them. you’re too nice to be a part of this group of people, the people society rejected and casted aside, he thinks. you’re far too soft-hearted. you give in to toga’s sweet tooth half the time, you insist on making tea for kurogi and inguchi to help them relax, just to name a couple examples; you fuss over everyone and you care for them, too much. if that wasn’t enough, you were overly physically affectionate too. once you noticed the league members were fine with your hugs, a dam broke open and you give everyone hugs as often as they’d let you. it took them some getting used to, but they’re fine with it. (dabi receives his hugs in secret.) toga especially loves your hugs—she’s taken to calling you YN-nee.

he bares his claws when you try to do the same care and fuss for him, over him. he doesn’t need you or your softness or your care. he’ll eat your meals, but he won’t thank you. he doesn’t need your warmth, your kindness, your patience.

however, he does want it. he craves it, even if he can’t admit it to himself. (when was the last time anyone had ever treated him with tenderness…?)

after a nightmare that leaves him feeling like the bruised little boy who would sit outside with no one but mon to keep him company, he’s jerky and sensitive and shaken when he steps out of his room. he’s too out of it to really question why you’re out here, in the living room, wide awake with the television on, looking exhausted as he feels. shigaraki is tense, visibly so. whatever exhaustion you feel is replaced with worry. you stand. “hey, are you okay? what’s wrong?” you ask, voice quiet and concerned.

you take a step closer, eyes glimmering with an emotion he doesn’t know how to name. he isn’t sure he’s ever seen it directed toward him. he doesn’t know. right now, he is vulnerable and raw and—

“shigaraki,” you mumble. you hesitate and reach a hand out to him, as if to provide comfort. you know how he’s reacted to you before and you’ve never seen him like this, so you’re prepared for him to snap at you. who knows, maybe he’ll actually decay you, this time, in this state of his that you’re sure no one else has seen. the leagues has teased you for being too soft. maybe they are right. because…even if shigaraki may decay you right this moment, even if he hates you, you don’t want to leave him alone. his red eyes are wide and frightened, a bit glossy. he just—he looks so sad, so lost, so small. you want to help him. even if he kills you, you want to make sure he’s okay, first.

and—

his hand shoots out, curls around your wrist too firmly, on the edge of hurting. quickly, before you can blink, shigaraki is the one who yanks you to him and hugs you, body stiff, grip tight.

you freeze with shock, eyes wide. shigaraki is hugging you. you didn’t think this would ever happen. wow, is all you can think. wow. you blink and quickly tell yourself to be more surprised, later, because shigaraki needs you now.

so you wrap your arms around him, returning the embrace. your pudgy, soft body presses into him, squishy and warm. you rub your hand over his hand in circles, slow and careful. his breathing is still a bit uneven, shaky. you’re not sure what happened, really, that could get someone like shigaraki so…well, anxious. you know everyone in the league has demons that plague them, you just…you just didn’t think shigaraki’s demons made his heart and soul ache to this extent. he can bury it far, far under anger, hatred, resentment, and the desire to destroy the world, but…

deep down, he wants to be loved as much as anyone else. he wants acceptance. in his core, he’s just a little boy who wants unconditional affection. love. attention. (you think of a show you watched a while back—the good place. a particular quote has buried its way into your mind that’s guided your behavior with the league—they’re your family and friends, you can’t help it, you would’ve acted the same regardless—people improve when they get external love and support. how can we hold it against them when they don’t?)

“it’s okay, it’s alright,” you whisper softly. “i’m here, shigaraki. i’m here for you.”

after that, it’s like a switch flipped. he comes back to himself and he’s too embarrassed to look you in the eye. he avoids you for a few days, snatching his meals off the table and eating in his room. however…you finally get him alone and you silently offer him a hug in private and…there’s no judgement in your eyes as your arms are in the air. no sympathy or pity in your gaze. he should tell you to fuck off. he should decay you, even.

instead, he slowly opens his arms, and begrudgingly steps forward twice. he’s too prideful to be the one that hugs you, even if you’re the only ones in the room. last time, he was too vulnerable and initiated the hug. it’s only fair you do it this time.

and you do. you step forward and hug him. you squeeze him with your arms gently and firmly, your body flesh with his. he hates how he wraps his arms around you and finds that his comrades weren’t bluffing when they talked about how great a hugger you are. something inside of him unravels at your embrace. when was the last time someone held him like this?

from that day on, he indulges in your physical affection akin to a sponge with water. shigaraki finds that he can’t help it. he’s a dehydrated man in a desert and your touch is his salvation. he doesn’t like sharing you, but he’s secure in the comfort that he’s the only one who gets to cuddle with you in your flimsy pajamas. he doesn’t know if there’s a name for what you and him have. he doesn’t care, either.

as long as he has you, nothing else matters. you’ll be his undoing and he doesn’t mind it. not when it’s you. never when it’s you.

#shigaraki tomura x reader #shimura tenko x reader #shigaraki x reader #chubby reader #plus sized reader #fat reader #raven’s fluff🌻#i have this blog i might as well use it…..i keep thinking of shigaraki :( he’s so tragic….#i need to hug him and cuddle him forever #this is so SO self indulgent #i saw baby tenko walking down the street by himself. wanted to jump thru the screen and hug him until all he knows is gentleness #even grown up shigs needs a big hug. ahhhh i wanna wrap him in a blanket and :( kiss his forehead

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chuuniversal · 4 months ago

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IN CLOSE PROXIMITY

☆*:.｡ attending high profile auctions meant you had to look the part, sylus made sure of that, adorning your body in nothing but luxurious accessories and the finest fabrics. but he can’t help but lose himself at the way one particular gown accentuates the dips and curves of your body…

notes from chuu: a special thank you to @zehrbear for helping a sister out when i was stumped and for beta reading!! 🥹 wc is about 1.6k

cw: plus sized f!reader, slight mention of insecurity (very small!), praise, groping, breast play, finger sucking, oral (f-> receiving!), fingering, public indecency (yall get freaky in the fitting room), sylus calls reader sweetie and kitten, mentions of backshots MDNI!! BLANK/ AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED <3

why sylus chose to bring you to an uppity high end boutique with the world’s smallest fitting room was beyond you, the shimmery fuschia drapes and curtains that served as a source of entry and exit the only thing providing any kind of privacy. your fingers run along the material of the bougie drapes. they’re surprisingly thick, muffling the atmosphere of friendly sales associates attending to wealthy clients.

you turn to look at yourself in the full size mirror, examining the dress that sylus picked out for you. it fit perfectly, a little too perfectly. the silk iridescent fabric as gorgeous as midnight accentuated every curve and dip of your frame. the built-in padded support had your breasts sitting like never before. you were stunned, worried that this dress was a bit too much. you needed a second opinion, one that wouldn’t sell you a smile and false compliments so you could buy a dress.

you needed sylus, as much as you hated to admit.

you poke your head out from the curtain and scan the area to find the tall silver haired devil being gawked at by others, the hearts in their pupils clear as day. “psst hey! the dress is on… c’mere.” you pout as he smirks at you, slipping away once you call his attention. he walks into the fitting area and finds you examining yourself in the mirror, turning and posing to really get a good look at the dress.

“okay what do you think? is it too much? i kind of like the color and how it shimmers when i move but… i don’t know. it kind of feels a little too form fitting? like-” as you continue to ramble on and worry yourself, you don’t notice the way sylus looks at you. he’s slack jawed, admiring your beauty from head to toe, shamelessly leering at the fullness of your plush hips and the swell of your ass. as you continue on rambling, you’re soon shushed by the overwhelming sound of loafers hitting the wood stained floor. it’s not long before sylus’ intimidating stature is right behind you.

“do you really want to know what i think, sweetie?” he purrs, his large hands finding your hips as he meets your gaze in the mirror. there’s a heaviness on your chest, heat slightly spreading through the apples of your you cheeks as his lidded eyes stare daggers into you. “well that’s why i called you in here.” your attempt at being snarky fails to dissipate the rising tension in this crowded space you find yourself in, the smell of his mahogany cologne infiltrating your senses with each breath. the onichynus leader’s nimble thumbs press into you, his hands massaging your hips ever so slowly.

“i think,” he crouches down slightly as his lips brush against the shell of your ear, “you look sexy in this little number. don’t you agree?” your eyes widen at his confession, ready to jump from him but he pulls you flush to his chest. “it’s a nice dress but i’m not the one up for auction! don't you think it’s a little…i don’t know…” your hand brushes over your stomach, your gaze avoiding the reflection before you. it’s a slight insecurity that comes in waves, you don’t voice it but sylus notices. his hands slide from your hips to your tummy, the purr in his voice deepens and reverbates in his throat as he feels the softness of your plush body.

“as i said…sexy.” he groans, biting the soft cartilage of your ear, “all of you.”

a shocked gasp tinged with excitement leaves your lips as you feel his large hands eclipse your hips, massaging into your doughy skin and pulling you into his embrace. “i think you’d make quite the commotion tonight, yeah?” he coos, littering kisses along the length of your neck. “you see the effect you have on me now, i can’t keep my hands off you, sweetie.” before you can swat him away, he finds your breasts, warm palms groping and massaging the pillowy flesh as he litters wet kisses along the length of your neck .

sylus is trying to keep his composure but one glance at your reflection has his restraint snapping one thread at a time. you smell so sweet and feel so good beneath his fingertips. the way you crumble and come undone with every fiery touch, the way your glossed lips quiver when he starts to tug and pinch your nipples. god he could take you right now…

your body is overwhelmed with pleasure, it’s hard to keep quiet as he toys with you like this, heat pooling in the pit of your tummy as you whimper and whine from the stimulation. “s-sylus please,” you try to whisper but you fail miserably, your voice is shaky and can barely form with out faltering. he rests his head on your shoulder and watches you intently, his slender fingers snaking to the hem of the dress and hiking it up. he’s surprised to find that you aren’t wearing panties, it makes things easier for him at least. “i think this dress is perfect, kitten. not only is it stunning on you but it grants me easy access to those luscious thighs and that gorgeous pussy.”

sylus’ fingers gravitate towards your soaked cunt, his glare never breaking eye contact with yours in the mirror as he finds your clit. he knows you’re a bit of a moaner and while he would want nothing more than to hear your pleasure filled cries, you are in public and have to have some kind of decency. “open.” he purrs as his fingers press against your pretty lips and you open obediently, sucking on his index and middle to prevent yourself from garnering any unwanted attention. he smirks and continues rubbing circles into you, slick collecting on his finger and coating your folds.

you never thought you’d end up in this kind of compromising position when you first came here, legs spread in a tiny fitting room while the leader of such a dangerous organization as onichynus sank his fingers deeper and deeper into your aching heat. a part of you wishes you had a little more restraint but god he knows how to break you down until you’re pliant and needy for his touch. you suck him in beautifully, his digits drenched in your arousal as they massage and curl against your sweet spot. you accidentally bite down on his finger as you reach your high, your ass grinding against the seat of his pants when-

“excuse me miss!”

your heart drops, realization kicking in that you are in fact still at the bougie high end boutique and shouldn’t be doing this. as you try to pull away sylus tugs you back, continuing you to pump his fingers in and out of you. you’re feeling a mix of disbelief and pleasure, the smirk on his face very telling. “well aren’t you going to answer her, miss?” he starts thumbing at your clit to egg you on, your legs trembling at the stimulation.

“are you alright in there? it’s been a while…” the associate’s concerned voice is all you can hear. you pull sylus’ fingers from your mouth and walk over to speak with the woman. you slowly pop your head out of the curtains to be greeted by a woman that looks to be in her late fifties made evident by the silver skunk stripe in her updo. “hi! sorry to worry you but i’m alright” you smile as you try to make things quick so she can leave but she continues. “i just wanted to make sure, if you have anything else you’d like to try on please come find me and i’ll be happy to help! we have an amazing sale going on right now just in time for the holiday season,”

you continue to smile and nod as she rambles on but you can’t help but feel an overwhelming presence behind you in the fitting area. you hope it’s not what you think it is, you pray he would have some kind of decorum, but this is sylus we’re talking about. you can feel him gripping your ass and his warm wet tongue lapping at your pussy, licking your puffy folds like an animal starved. your legs buckle and you try to keep from dropping to your knees as he sucks and slurps on your pussy from the back.

you’re going to kill him, you swear you’re going to kill him, but right now you’re aching. you can’t help but imagine him fucking you into his mattress, your back arched as you take every delicious inch of his cock. hitting so deep that you help but squeal his name and cream on it over and over. your pussy flutters at the thought, that knot inside of you tightens with each lick of his tongue until you finally come undone, your composure slightly lost as you muffle your moans into the curtain under the disguise of a bad cough.

“and by signing up for our special rewards program your first purchase is discounted! let me know when you’re ready!” the woman walks away unaware of what the two of you were doing. you turn around, chest heaving as you glare at the silver haired man. “oops, i wanted a little taste and got a bit carried away. just too good to resist.” you slip the dress off and try to pull yourself together, taking a wipe from your purse to clean yourself up. you can’t believe the two of you did something so indecent, although it was admittedly thrilling in the moment, the rush of adrenaline still pulsing through you. you fix your hair and straighten your skirt, you then fix sylus’ collar for him and align his buttons so they aren’t so out of place.

“you owe me, jerk!” you pout, stomping away as you exit the fitting area. sylus can’t help but chuckle, he’ll make sure to let you take his platinum card so you can shop to your hearts content as an apology. but in regards to that auction he’ll have to take a rain check, the strain in his pants definitely will need to be attended to.

☆*:.｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆thank you for reading! if you enjoyed feel free to like, reblog and or comment! send an ask if you want, i don’t bite :3!

#͟͟͞͞➳❥ chuu writes #love and deepspace fanfiction #sylus love and deepspace #love and deepspace smut #lads sylus smut #lads smut #chubby reader #chubby reader smut #plus sized reader

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mrsknowitallll · 3 days ago

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Come Hell Or High Water

Sammie (Preacher boy) x Black Plus Size Reader

Summary - What was supposed to be a night full of fun, a night filled with passion turns into something else entirely, something that’ll change the trajectory of both your lives forever.

Warning: Child abuse and neglect, smut, murder, foul language, violence

A/N - This one is a little bit heavy with some sensitive topics. If any of the things mentioned above trigger you I highly recommend skipping this fic, I have more in my masterlist pinned on my page that are much lighter. Hope you guys enjoy! I just loveeee me some Sammie. 🤭

You sighed heavily, wiping the sweat from your brow as you finished sweeping up the kitchen.

Your father was away visiting some relatives up north for a few days so you had the place to yourself for a while but that didn't mean that the work ever stopped.

"Keep up with the land and keep my god damn house clean, if I come back to some mess we gone have a problem you hea?" He grabbed onto the back of your neck roughly.

"Yes papa." You stiffened in his hold, nodding as best as you could.

But the weekend was just around the corner and after the week you had, you just wanted to relax a bit, take some of the edge off.

When you heard about the opening of Club Juke you just had to attend. Word spread that they were gonna have great food, top notch music and some and the world’s finest liquor, you’d be a fool to miss out. You weren't quite old enough to drink but you were old enough to get in and that's all that mattered to you.

You put on your best dress, a silk number that was a deep shade of red, it hugged your curves real nice, your ass especially.

You wrapped a matching shawl around your shoulders and slipped on your heels.

You grabbed your purse as you headed for the door, but not before looking at yourself one last time in your small kitchen mirror.

"Aren't you a little young to be here miss?" Cornbread questioned as you stepped near the entrance.

"I'm old enough and my money just as good as everyone else’s” You waved a few coins around, a few dollars you saved from babysitting.

His eyes followed the money, snatching it from your hands without hesitation and stepping aside to let you in.

Your ears perked up at the sound of singing, a smooth soulful voice coming from the small stage which was surrounded by people dancing so you couldn't quite see.

You walked over as if you were in a trance pushing people out of the way earning several curses from the other club patrons.

You eventually got to the front staring up at the culprit.

You felt heat pool from the top of your head all the way to the tips of your toes as you locked eyes with him.

His skin was smooth as silk, a pretty dark brown that seemed to glisten even under the dim lighting in the club, he was dressed in a simple suit, nothing too fancy, good enough for the little joint, just right for him, and his slender fingers strummed his guitar beautifully, fingers dancing over the strings like magic.

You drank him in like a glass of wine, eyes eventually sliding back up to meet his once more.

He grinned down at you, shooting you a wink.

You looked away feeling your face flush, thank god it wasn't visible.

After a while you settled down at the bar, still stealing glances at the boy from across the room, him doing the same.

Finally he began to approach you and you did your best to act casual, if casual was adjusting your outfit and asking the bartender if you looked okay.

"My, my aren't you pretty." He whistled eyes trailing your frame causing you to squirm.

"And you're quite the charmer." You smirked trying to play it cool.

"You enjoy the show?" He questioned taking a seat next to you.

"Absolutely, you sure can blow." You shot him a compliment causing him to grin.

"That ain't the only thing this mouth of mine can do." He leaned in, hand brushing your thigh.

"If i didn't know any better i'd say you was tryna sweet talk your way into my drawls. You don't even know my name, how you know i ain't a serial killer?" You teased.

"It would be an honor to die by these pretty hands of yours." He intertwined his fingers with yours, kissing your knuckles sweetly.

"You wanna get out of here?" You squeezed your thighs together, staring at him hungrily.

"Sure thing." He placed his hat on his head, placing his guitar over his shoulders.

You giggled as his lips trailed from your neck down to your exposed chest, his hands gripping your wide hips tightly.

"As much as i would love to take you right here right now, i think we better go somewhere more private." He glanced around the dark woods wearily.

"My house is near by, my pa gone for the week, it'll just be you and me." You pecked his lips smiling wickedly.

He scooped you up in his arms, and took off running, surprising you with his strength.

You laughed until your stomach started to hurt, hitting his shoulders, squealing for him to put you down.

He finally did once he reached your porch, setting you down gently.

As soon as you unlocked the door he was on you, hands sliding beneath your dress, grabbing ahold of your thighs and lifting you up, placing you on your kitchen counter, lips attacking yours in a rough, sloppy kiss.

He unbuttoned his pants quickly, slipping them down just enough to pull out his hard length.

You spat on your hand, wetting it before grabbing his dick, stroking painfully slow.

He ripped your panties off, fingers dipping into your core, your arousal soaking them.

Just before he could sink into you the door was slung open, revealing the one person you weren't expecting to see for at least another day or two.

You jumped from the counter quickly pulling down your dress.

You shook in fear as he surveyed the scene, his face contorting quickly, from shock to blind rage.

"I leave you 'lone for a few days and i come back to you spread open on my kitchen counter like some hooker!" Your father screamed sending a harsh slap across your face.

"Now wait just a minute mister ain't no need for all that, it was me that came onto her." Sammie struggled to his pants up.

Your father swung on him, landing a clean hit on his jaw causing the boy to stumble.

You ran over to him, holding his face in your hands.

"You alright?" You questioned, tears brimming your eyes.

He nodded.

"Come hea!" Your father grabbed you by your hair suddenly, dragging you out the front door and tossing you onto the lawn.

He proceeded to stomp on you like he was putting out a cigarette bud, not beating the life out of his daughter, his only child.

You placed your arms over your head protectively, screaming in agony, the pain unbearable.

It all abruptly stopped when you heard gunshots ring out.

Sammie stood beside you, your father's shot gun in hand, his lifeless body now lying next to yours, blood staining blades of grass.

You stood on shaky feet wincing, arm gripping your middle.

You spared a single glance at your father, face blank.

You weren’t fazed by his death, that man never loved you, never cared for you, hell he began beating the daylights out of you the moment you learned to walk and talk so why should you give a fuck if he lived or died?

What you were worried about though was Sammie, you snatched the gun from his hands tossing it to the ground.

He shook rapidly, tears streaming down his face like a waterfall.

"Hey, hey! Look at me, don't go there okay? Come back to me." You tapped the sides of his face attempting to snap him back into reality.

"I- i gotta call Sm-Smoke a- and Stack, We gotta get rid of him we gotta get him outta here." The boy grabbed your father by his feet and began dragging him back into the house.

You took ahold of his arms, helping him.

“You stay here ight? I’ll be back soon.” Sammie adjusted his clothes.

“Like hell I am, I ain’t letting you go nowhere by yourself, not with the state you in, nor am I staying here with a dead man, i’m going with you!” You persisted, slipping your shoes back on.

Sammie knew there was no point in arguing with you so he just let you follow him.

“Well i’ll be.. damn lil man I ain’t know you had it in you!” Stack crouched down in front of your father’s body, observing the bullet wound.

You huffed in annoyance at the man’s antics.

He had been cracking jokes since the two of you went and got him, nothing bout the situation y’all were in was a laughing matter.

“Look, Stack was it? I don’t know if you noticed but Sammie’s not taking this too well, see he just killed a man and while that may be a tuesday for you and your brother it’s obviously a life changing experience for him, he’s clearly traumatized and now is not the time for games. You gone help us get rid of this motherfucker or is your comedy special gone run all night?” You crossed your arms stepping into his face, gritting your teeth.

Sammie grabbed your hand squeezing tightly, a silent show of gratitude.

You just glanced over at him smiling weakly.

Stack pursed his lips, eyes widening slightly.

He burst out laughing after a few seconds, holding onto his gut like you said the funniest thing in the world.

“My fault little lady, I ain’t mean no harm.” He held his hands up in surrender.

“She a keeper lil Sammie.” He briefly glanced over at the boy, winking.

“Me and Smoke gone take care of this here, the two of y’all just worry bout getting the fuck outta town.” He looked between the both of you.

“What?!” You spoke in unison.

“Y’all killed a man a skip and a hop away from a club full of people, you think they ain’t hear them gunshots? You think niggas ain’t gone ask questions? They gone notice this motherfucker is gone sooner or later and connect the dots. Don’t you got family? You think they ain’t gone wonder what the fuck happened to this nigga? That they ain’t gone come snooping round? Y’all gotta get the fuck up outta here, quick ‘fore the sun come up.” Smoke glared at the two of you.

“My entire life here in Mississippi, i can’t just pack up and go, leave everything i know behind.” You stared at the man in disbelief.

“We ain’t got no choice.” Sammie spoke gruffly.

You turned toward him, a “you can’t be serious” expression on your face.

“Look I get where you coming from, ion wanna leave mississippi behind either, my ma and pa, my brothers and sisters, but we ain’t got no choice in the matter now, what’s done is done, we gotta go.” He grabbed your hands intertwining them with his pulling you closer to him, planting a sweet kiss on your lips.

“Enough of that lovey dovey shit get the fuck on.” Stack waved them off.

You packed as many clothes as you could into a small duffle, gathering some of your father’s old clothes for Sammie as well.

You tossed the bag in the back of the car, hopping into the passenger side, Sammie on the drivers side, the engine already running.

“You stay safe, keep yo eyes peeled and yo head down.” Stack pat Sammie on the head.

“And protect ya lady, that mouth of hers gone get y’all in a world of trouble.” He teased.

You flipped him off causing him to chuckle.

After you said your goodbyes you and Sammie took off down the road, wind whipping against your faces, minds running a mile a minute.

You placed your hand on the back of Sammie’s head, fingers kneading through his hair gently, soothing him.

“I’m sorry I got you into all this mess, if it wasn’t for me you’d still be with your folks in that club, playing music, having yourself a good time.” You sighed heavily staring down at your feet.

“Hey look at me.” He took his eyes off the road for a moment to look at you.

You glanced up meeting his soft gaze.

“I ain’t worried bout none of that nonsense, the club, the music, none of it. If I didn’t do what i did that man would’ve killed you and i definitely wouldn’t be able to live with myself then.” He shook his head.

“Plus I been unhappy here for a long time, I always said i wanted to see the world, now’s my chance.” He confessed.

“And music don’t just exist in the Delta, it lives right here within me.” He pointed at his chest.

“No matter how far I travel the music ain’t gone ever leave my side.” He smiled pridefully.

“I got all I need right here, just you, me and the blues.”

#sinners #sinners fanfiction #sinners 2025 #sammie x black plus size reader #sammie x plus size reader #plus size reader #black plus size reader #plus sized reader

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readgoods · 4 months ago

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keep thinking about price....

#call of duty price #call of duty fanart #captain price #my art #my art price #my art cod #plus sized reader #male dom #dom price #female sub

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jazzthatonewriterchick · 3 months ago

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Smile For The Camera, Baby 📸 (Geto x F!Reader 18+ One Shot)

Pairing: Photographer!Geto Suguru x Plus-Sized!Fem!Reader

Synopsis: In which you decide to volunteer to model for your friend’s lingerie line photoshoot when the original model gets sick and meet the very sexy photographer who isn’t letting you leave until you realize how gorgeous you are.

Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINORS DNI); Highkey Flirting; Inappropriate Touching; Sexual Tension; Alcohol Consumption; Pet Names: Mama, Baby; Sugar (for Geto); MDom!Geto x fsub!Reader; Strangers to Lovers; Tongue Kissing; Striptease; Mutual Oral; 69ing; Facesitting; Praise; Edge Play; Lewd Pictures; No PIV Sex; Facial; Exhibitionism; Aftercare Cuddles

Writer's Note: I wrote this about a year ago, but it ended up being flagged (ugggggggh!!!) lol so I wanted to revise & repost it for Geto's birthday!!! This is how I cope with my baby being d*ad & gone. I also know for a fact Geto loves women of all shapes n sizes! I hope y'all enjoy! -Jazz

Read on AO3 here!

************

“I-I don’t know about this, Maki.”

About two weeks ago, you were initially okay with taking semi-naked and possible naked photos for your friend’s lingerie shoot since her model got ill. It wasn’t on short notice since the date for the shoot was during the weekend and you were getting paid for your time.

Plus, spending a hot afternoon trying on cute lingerie and sipping on Moscato seemed like a great afternoon, indeed.

But now that you’re standing here among the lights, luxurious furniture, and the rack of lingerie with your sundress draped across your plump body, all of that easiness is gone and not even a glass of Moscato can fix it.

Especially when you just found out a few minutes when you arrived here to the studio that Maki wouldn’t be taking the photos but her friend, who is a man you’ve never met before, would be.

“Why not?” Maki whines disapprovingly. She is standing by one of the lights, trying to get it right so it illuminates your skin and brings out the soft glow of your makeup. She gave you time to do your hair and makeup when you got here since the walk from your home to the studio was a hot one.

Even though your apartment is only five blocks away, the hot weather has a vengeance, and you showed up coated in sweat, glad you took a shower and applied extra layers of spray deodorant to your inner thighs earlier before leaving your crib.

Though you know look and smell good with your pink, gloss lips, glittery eyeshadow, and rose-scented perfume, neither does much to curb your anxiety. You fidget with the hem of your dress, unable to look Maki in the eye. “I’m just not comfortable with this guy takin’ photos of me,” you mutter.

“Y/N, I told you,” Maki sighs, “Geto is a professional photographer. He’s taken many shots for my business before! Did you look at his portfolio? I sent it to you two weeks ago.”

You timidly nod because you did. Though you have no clue what Geto looks like, you will admit that he has immense talent. While you sat at your laptop two weeks ago, you scrolled through his photos that ranged from nature for National Geographic Magazine to photos of the prettiest women for Maki’s lingerie line.

The way he managed to capture each thing, whether an animal or a human, and bring out the best in them was incredible.

But your anxiousness isn’t just the fact that he was a man who happened to be taking your photos today since the original photographer had to go out of town for her sick mother.

It’s the fact that each woman Geto photographed for Maki’s line don’t look like you. They’re much smaller with perfectly flat stomachs and hour-shaped figures; perky breasts and thighs that have not an inch of cellulite.

You’re unlike any of them. You have stomach; triple D titties that you have to pay an arm and a leg for when it comes to bras; an ass and thighs dimpled with cellulite; pudge that makes your arms bigger than you’d like them to be. Your size is the reason you tend to stay away from bikinis and crop tops in the summer; opting instead for sundresses that reach your ankles and even jackets that hide your shape. Your shape is why you don't date as much, too afraid of rejection despite your pretty face and cute smile.

You’re used to men ghosting you or standing you up after getting a look at you below your chin. It’s humiliating to be in your body and to be treated in such a way. What angers you most is that you take care of yourself–you eat your fruits and veggies; you drink water; you exercise–and yet you’re still criticized by society for the body you’re forced to live in.

That’s why when Maki asked you to model for her new summer lingerie line, you were more than happy to participate, thinking it’d be a great way to boost your confidence. Plus, you get to keep the lingerie you like. But now, all you want to do is hide away from the blinding lights above, feeling too hot and exposed beneath them.

Maki puts a hand on her slim hip, fixing you with a stare. “He’s not gonna hit on you if that’s what you’re worried about,” she sighs. “Geto doesn’t really date since he’s always working. And we don’t have time for you to change your mind, girl! I need these photos in by next week!” She turns to her sister. “Mai, back me up here!”

Mai, lounging on the couch for the shoot with her legs crossed, looks up from her book with a bored expression. “I’m not in this,” she deadpans before looking back down and flipping a page. Maki growls in frustration at her sister’s refusal to help before turning back to you. “Are you sure this is just about the fact that a guy, who is a professional photographer, is taking your photos today?” She cocks her head to the side, still giving you that fixed stare.

You flush in your sundress. She knows exactly what’s going on and wants you to say it.

“The girls he shoots for don’t…look like me,” you carefully confess. “I’m much bigger and I’m afraid that–“

“Okay, stop.” Maki walks up to you and puts her hands on your shoulders, forcing you to look at her. “First of all, shut up. You’re fucking beautiful, no matter what shape you are, and I specifically picked you because you know how to work a camera and I want this new line to be inclusive to all sizes.” You flush at her compliment. “Second of all, Geto is going to take these pictures regardless of your size because it’s a fucking job, Y/N! He doesn’t care how you look!”

She pauses, reiterating, “Well, he does, but only in his photos. Your body is your body. Plus, he is fully aware that the model today is a plus-sized woman and he still said yes.”

“What’s the big deal?” Mai asks, shocking the both of you. She is looking up from her book and at you from under her black bang. “It’s not the end of the world that you’re fat, Y/N. You’re actin’ like fat women exist.”

“Mai, come on!” Maki scoffs, rolling her eyes. “You couldn’t have used a better word? Maybe plump or chunky?” Mai shrugs, flipping another page in her book. “Maki, they all mean the same thing,” you giggle. “Fat isn’t a slur.”

And it isn’t. Despite what you’ve been taught and shown by society, 'fat' isn’t negative, bad, or ugly; it is exactly what you are. You know you aren’t negative or bad and you sure as hell aren’t ugly just because of your extra pounds. And you know that this photoshoot can show you that.

“Mai is right…you both are.” You squeeze Maki’s hands still on your shoulders and nod at the little table where a chilled bucket of Moscato and glasses sit. “Maybe I just need a glass of Moscato.”

Maki squeals excitedly, wrapping her arms around you to give you a hug. “Comin’ right up, girly!” She races over to the bottle to pour you a glass, but as she does, she becomes distracted by the sound of pounding footsteps. “Oh, and look who’s here! Right on time too, but then again, he’s always punctual.” She grins happily, giving you a wink.

You look toward the open door where the studio’s staircase lies–the ones you had to walk up and nearly pull a muscle because the elevator is broken. There, you find a pair of big ass boots attached to an even bigger, taller man.

You realize that you’ve never seen Geto’s photo before, so it takes you a moment to register that you’re looking at him in the flesh. To say he is hot is an understatement. He has to be about 6’0 with a large build. His muscles push and flex under his black tee that is soaked in sweat and his jeans are tight on his thick, muscled legs and slim waist.

His long, black hair is pulled back into a high bun that accentuates the sharp lines of his face, especially his cheekbones and jaw. Dark ink cascades up and down his big biceps and arms, stopping at his hands where several rings adorn his fingers.

Geto comes into the room, appearing like a giant with how big he is. He stands much taller than you, Maki, and Mai combined. He could probably break you in half. “Please tell me you’ve got some water up here,” he huffs, lugging his backpack over his shoulders. His handsome, reddened face is glinting in sweat and are his thick neck and the collar to his tight tee.

Maki points to the table at the back where drinks and snacks are set up. “Right on the table over there. Just put your stuff down over there, too.”

Geto nods and walks farther into the room. As he does, his eyes meet yours from across the room, rendering you speechless and suddenly in need of air. His eyes remind you of two purple amethysts–beautiful yet almost hard to look at. His gaze is intense and fixed as if he sees every single part of you under your dress.

The smell is fortunately broken when Geto moves to the snack table and turns his back to you, allowing you to get a look at his ass in them jeans. “Close your mouth, Y/N,” Mai snickers, suddenly beside you. “You’ll catch flies.”

You flush in embarrassment, feeling like a perv. “Shut up,” you mumble. Mai just snickers, knowing damn well you’re whipped.

Once Geto finishes setting up his equipment from his backpack, including a camera, Maki brings him over to introduce you by his arm. “Geto, allow me to introduce the woman of the hour and my best friend, Y/N.” She motions over your body, making you feel even more exposed. “Y/N, this is Geto Suguru. We call him ‘sugar’ for short.”

Geto rolls his eyes, taking his arm out of Maki’s grasp. “You didn’t have to mention that.” His violet eyes meet yours, pinning you to your spot. “Nice to meet you, Y/N.” And his voice! The deep timbre of it makes your pussy tremble.

He sticks his hand out for yours. Tentatively, you take it, ignoring how big, calloused, and warm his hand is. “Y-You too,” you stammer. You give him a smile in an attempt to not seem awkward. “Um, I like your photos. You really have a way with your camera.”

He doesn’t smile but you catch the corner of his lip twitching upward at your compliment. “So I’ve been told,” he replies, and you have to resist the urge to close your eyes at the sound of voice. You want to hear it all the time, in your ear.

Realizing your hand is still in his, you release your hold and place your hands behind your back, feeling like the horniest perv alive. You catch Maki subtly smirking at Mai. “Mai, let’s give them time to get acquainted,” she giggles. “Help me organize the rest of the lingerie, will ya? Y/N, feel free to pick which one you wanna do first!”

Before you can protest or beg for them to stay, they’re already walking away from the shooting area for another table covered in lingerie pieces. Though they’re a few feet away, you feel like now it’s only you and Geto in the room. You stand there awkwardly for a few seconds, not saying anything. The silence is thick with tension despite Maki and Mai whispering among themselves.

“U-Um!” you loudly stammer, catching Geto’s attention. You walk over to the rack of lingerie near you and pick out a bright fuchsia bra and panty set. “Is this set okay to start with? I figured I’d do one with color for the summertime.” Geto’s eyes flick to the set before setting back on your face. “That’s fine with me. We do want you want.”

“Cool!” you squeak, wincing at the volume of your voice and the way you’re acting. “I-I’m gonna go change now. I won’t be long.” Before Geto can say anything more, you take a glass of Moscato and hurry off to the bathroom to change with your set. Once you’re behind the four walls, you can finally breathe and settle yourself (and your body) down.

“Girl, what’s wrong with you?” you huff to yourself in the mirror. But you know exactly what’s wrong: that fine ass piece of man is the problem. He makes your body react in a way it never has before with any man. Your breathing is labored and your heart hammers like you just ran a marathon. Your head feels dizzy. Your pussy is throbbing and possibly soaked from the scent of Geto’s cologne wafting in the air.

You know realistically that you can't go back out like this if you don’t want to jump Geto’s bones. So after downing your glass and splashing some cool water on your neck, you change into your set along with some gold heels to make the color of the lingerie pop. After fixing your hair and applying a slick of gloss on your lips, you put on your silk robe and slowly walk back outside for the shoot.

Geto is setting up the camera on a stand while Maki and Mai stand around, sipping their glasses.

“I’m finished,” you timidly announce. “Is it okay?” All three heads turn to you and you feel hot with embarrassment under their gazes. “Is it okay?” Maki guffaws. “Girl, you look like you need to be wined, dined, and given six orgasms! Doesn’t she, sugar?”

You have no idea why she asks Geto, but you’re even more confused at the silent and intense stare the man gives you. His eyes roam over your body, drinking in the way the bra cups hold in your plump breasts, your thick legs shine with coconut oil, and your jiggly stomach is adorned in lace from the waistband of your thong.

You don’t know if he likes what he sees, but it makes you feel uncomfortable either way. The way he makes you feel makes you feel especially uncomfortable. You have to squeeze your thighs together in an effort to lessen the throbbing you feel between them.

Geto clears his throat and adverts his eyes. “I’m gonna go set up my laptop,” he mutters before storming off to his backpack. Maki turns to you with a knowing smirk. “He agrees.”

“Stop it,” you groan, closing your robe to shield your body. “You’re gonna embarrass him and me. It’s not easy for me to be in this weird-ass position.” Maki rolls her eyes behind her spectacles. “Oh, come on! He knows he likes what he sees. Did you notice the “fuck me” eyes he gave you when he saw you in that little sundress?”

You think back to Geto’s intense stare your way as he walked into the room and shiver. “I think you’re just tipsy, Maki.” Maki gapes at you, offended. “I am not!” she scoffs. “I only had two glasses!” Mai bumps her hip with her sister’s, giggling. “You know damn well you can’t handle your alcohol, sis.”

Before Maki can jump down her throat though, Geto comes back with his laptop and a jump drive. “I’m all set up now,” he announces. Maki squeals loudly, nearly taking your eardrum out. “Great!” she cheers. “I’ll set up the music and let you guys do your thing. We’ll be right over here making sure everything goes well.”

After a few minutes, the shoot is under way while the sisters stand off to the side, watching and giggling among themselves. Your playlist specifically made for this photoshoot is playing from her Alexa orb and you have another glass of Moscato in your hand. You can already feel the first glass affecting you, making you feel lighter. Geto stands behind the camera, fiddling with the buttons. “Let’s start with you standing with the backdrop.” He tilts his chin towards the blush pink backdrop.

You nod and slowly walk over in your heels, feeling like Geto might be watching your ass despite the silk robe covering it. You don’t turn around to look at him when you finally, though hesitantly, disrobe and reveal every part of yourself to him and the camera. When you turn around, he is already staring at you, a small smile on his lips.

“Why you look so tense?” he chuckles. “You nervous?” You huff with a shy laugh, your body feeling hot and shaky. “Does it show?”

“A little, yeah,” he replies, snapping a quick photo as a tester. “Just relax and feel free to drink your glass…actually, keep it in your hand with some of the photos. It adds to the aesthetic with the lingerie.” You nod and keep your glass in your hand as you strike your first pose, one hand on your hip and your eyes set dead at the camera.

The camera light flashes, nearly blinding you. Geto hums approvingly. “Perfect,” he says, his deep voice caressing you. “Stay right there…tilt your chin up a bit.” He bends down once more to snap a picture as you do as he orders, tilting your chin up slightly and mustering the sexiest expression you can possibly do.

It starts to become easier and less awkward the longer you stand there, posing from the front.

After a few pictures, Geto peers up at you from the camera. “Turn around for me,” he huskily orders. You bite your lip, trying to ignore the way your pussy excitingly clenches at him giving you orders. Slowly, you turn around, exposing your ass in the cheeky thong that makes it look extra plump and juicy.

“Look at me over your shoulder,” Geto orders. You do so, peering at him over your shoulder, and he snaps a picture. “Perfect,” he chuckles, a gorgeous, white-toothed smile adorning his pink lips. “You’re a natural at this. You sure this is your first time?”

“Thanks,” you giggle, flushing at the compliment, “and yes. I’m just a volunteer since Maki’s original model got sick.” You put your glass down and pose without it, putting your arms behind your head. Geto snaps a pic. “Is that all to why you decided to do this?” he curiously asks. "To help out your friend?”

You shake your head, smiling into the camera tense. “Guess it’d be fun. Plus, I thought it might boost up my confidence since–“

“Shit!” Maki shouts, groaning in frustration at the end. Geto immediately stops his work, alerted. “What is it?” he demands, already storming over to them.

You stand there, afraid to move in your heels and possibly break your ankle. Maki sighs, irritation all over her face. “I totally forgot we had a meeting scheduled with the Macy’s team today for a partnership. I have to go.”

“And I have to drive her since her car is still in the shop,” Mai says as Maki begins to rush to gather her things. Mai turns to you, looking apologetic. “Sorry, Y/N.” You look at the sisters, realization hitting you like a train. “So…you’re both leaving?” you anxiously ask. “Will you be back before the shoot ends?”

Maki checks her watch as she shoves her tote bag onto her shoulder. “We’ll see, but most of the time, those partnership meetings last forever. But don’t worry; we’ll call to make sure everything goes smoothly and you have plenty of drinks and snacks.” She walks over to give you a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

She leaves a ring of gloss on your cheek and anxiety twirling in your gut at her departure. “But–“

“We’ve gotta run,” she quickly says before you can protest. “Love you, see you later, bye!” She hurries over to the door with Mai in tow, giving Geto a wink as she does. “Thanks again, Geto! Expect your deposit by next week.” And then, just like that, they’re gone. And only you and Geto are occupying the room.

“I guess it’s just us then,” he awkwardly announces, walking back over to his camera. You slowly nod, adverting your eyes from his to stare at the door. “Yeah…” You desperately want the sisters to come waltzing back in and announce that the meeting was cancelled, but you know that is but a fantasy. You’re forced to stand there in this damn silence with this hot ass man, semi-naked. Could things get any worse?

As if sensing your discomfort, Geto clears his throat, gaining your attention. He stands by the camera stand, his tatted arms crossed over his broad, hard chest. “You know, we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. I can tell you’re uncomfortable and I would be too if I was in your position.”

He nods at your body, making your body flush with heat. “I get it: strange guy with a camera; you’re semi-naked. It’s like the plot to a horror movie.”

You crack a smile at his dark humor, giggling softly. “Well, when you say it like that…” You fiddle with the lace on your thong’s waistband. Geto continues to stare at you, making you feel like he has X-ray vision. “I don’t mean to come off like I’m scared,” you softly explain. "It’s just–“

“Don’t explain yourself to me,” he interacts, sounding firm. “Today is about you more than it is about me. I want these photos to please you too, so I want you feelin’ uncomfortable and at ease more than anything. If you say no, I’ll take care of Maki, maybe tell her somethin’ came up.”

You blink at him, taken aback by his words. “You’d…do that for me?” you ask in disbelief.

“‘Course. I’m not an asshole, and plus, you’re her friend. I’d rather her be pissed at me than you.” He shrugs as if it is no big deal, and maybe it’s not, but to you it gives you a sense of how sweet and considerate he is. If only there was someone out there like that for you.

You shake your head determinately, picking up your wine glass. “No, let’s do it. I’m here, you’re here, and we both want a check.” You take a long sip of your wine, letting the alcohol loosen you up further. “I’m ready,” you announce with a bright smile at the camera. “Let’s take some photos.”

Geto looks surprised at your cooperation at first, but then smiles. “I like the attitude,” he chuckles. “And the smile. Keep that there for a few pics.”

He bends down to snap a few as a light, feathery feeling overtakes your body and your confidence shoots to the roof. “Sure,” you giggle, already feeling the affects of the wine hit you…or maybe that’s just the smell and closeness of Geto.

An hour goes by of photos you take in different lingerie by the backdrop. The lingerie you pick is bright in color, making your skin complexion pop, and makes you feel like the sexiest woman in the world.

Geto’s looks shot your way also help. His gaze is so bold and intense behind the camera, though you’re sure it’s because he’s a photographer and is analyzing how he can get you to pose or something. The rest of the photoshoot is a piece of make and less awkward than earlier. You dance a little to the music from your playlist and giggle, oblivious to the adoring gazes Geto shoots your way behind the camera lens.

When Beyoncé’s “Cuff It” begins to play, you are on your third glass of Moscato and Geto is on his first. After getting your photos taken in an aqua-blue lingerie set, he takes his camera off the stand. “We’re finished?” you ask curiously.

“Just the first half with the backdrop,” he replies, nudging his head over to his laptop. “Lemme show you what I’ve got so far.” You unstrap your heels and follow him barefoot over to his laptop. He sits down in the wheeled chair and gets to hooking his camera up. In an instant, dozens of your headshots and photos fill his screen, each one different than the last.

But neither one makes you feel any different than how you do staring at them: Sexy. Confident. Like the baddest bitch on the block. The lighting is perfect on your makeup and skin, and each color of your lingerie seems to pop. “Wow, Suguru!” you happily gasp. “These look amazing! You made me look so…so…beautiful.”

Geto chuckles as he scrolls through each photo. “Well, I didn’t make you look beautiful, but the camera enhancements definitely help. Maki will love these, I’m sure.”

“Of course, she will!” you giggle. “Photography is definitely you’re calling. Why’d you decide to make that your career anyway?”

He shrugs, still lazily scrolling through your photos. “Photography is art,” he explains, “and I’ve always loved art. To me, there’s more to taking a photo than just snapping a camera. There are so many aspects and techniques that go into making one picture perfect, such as capturing beauty. You need to learn how to preserve it…worship it…”

He pauses, his hand on the touch pad, and slowly turns his head to meet yours. “Care for it,” he murmurs.

Your breath catches in your throat suddenly, realizing how close he is. You’re overwhelmed with his cologne and the smell of his shampoo–something spicy, like cinnamon, and clean, like rain. His violet eyes trail down to your lips, just for a second, before moving back to capture yours in an intense, heated stare that makes you want to strip off your lingerie and let him touch every single part of you.

‘Girl, what the hell?’ you think, shocked at your naughty thoughts. It must be the wine. You clear your throat and take a step back away from Geto. “Um…we should get back to takin’ photos,” you softly mutter. “You know…so Maki won’t kill us. I’ll go change into the next set.”

You quickly head toward the rack of lingerie and choose a random one before hurrying to the bathroom, abruptly ending whatever was about to transpire.

‘Which was nothing,’ you firmly think. ‘Geto is your photographer. A professional. And even if something were to happen, it’d be a mess.’ You keep trying to reason with your horny side as you change into the next set.

When you come back out in a lime green teddy bodysuit with a push-up bra and thong, Geto is standing by the lion-claw couch with his camera. “Let’s take some with you on the couch, then we’ll do some on the bed and then on the balcony. Just sit down with your legs crossed for now.”

You nod and take a seat on the soft couch cushions with your thick legs crossed over each other. You plant your hands on your knee and make a lustful, sensual face at the camera. “Perfect,” he compliments as the camera shutter flashes for a couple pics. “Now lie on your side with your hand on your hip. Use your other hand to prop up your head.”

You slowly get into position, staring at the camera eye. “You want me to make love to the camera?” you giggle.

Geto chortles, the sound of his deep laugher making your clit jump. “You’ve been doin’ that since you got in front of the camera,” he replies, but you don't think he’s joking about that. He takes a few shots of you in his desired position before moving on. “Now take your hand and hook it over the couch.”

You do so, still staring at the camera and hoping you look just as good as you did in the first set. The song has changed to Beyoncé’s “Virgo’s Groove”–a song that somehow makes you believe that you’re the sexiest version of yourself right now.

As you pose, you become aware that the atmosphere has changed to something more tense. Geto must realize it too because he suddenly rises from behind his camera and stares you down. “You’re so damn fine,” he suddenly says.

You scowl at him, confused. “I…what?” you dumbly ask.

“I said you’re fuckin’ fine,” he repeats without a single beat. “Why you needed a lingerie shoot to make you feel more confident with a face and body like yours is beyond me. I’m just glad I get to see you like this.”

Your heart thumps wildly as you continue to pose, not sure if you should stop. Geto snaps a photo regardless, acting as if he didn’t just say something so bold and flirty five seconds before.

“You shouldn't say that,” you weakly say.

He cocks an eyebrow at you. “Why shouldn’t I?” he teasingly asks. “Can I not admire a very sexy woman like yourself?”

He snaps another photo, the flash of the camera catching you off guard. “You can't tell me you didn’t notice me checkin’ you out when I came in here. If you’d let me, I’ll take photos of you in that little sundress of yours too.” His gaze is way more heated than before, the flirty smirk on his face making you feel even more uncomfortable as you lounge on the couch.

But not uncomfortable in the way where you want to be away from him. On the contrary, in fact. You want to be closer than close to him, no clothes in between. The tension you’re feeling in the air and the clenching of your pussy are starting to get to you, driving you crazy.

Geto’s words are to blame for that. Though flirty, can tell he is deadass. He sounds so sure; so real. No jokes or nothing. He isn’t a profile on a dating app or a hookup who is only seeing you in the darkness. You’re in front of him–all of you–and he still is looking at you like he wants a piece.

He takes your silence for something different and stops snapping photos for a moment. “Am I making you uncomfortable?” he worriedly asks. You sit up from your position, planting your ass on the couch. “No,” you softly answer with a slow head shake. “I’m just not used to getting compliments like that. Especially from someone like you.”

“Someone like me?” he parrots, raising an eyebrow. You roll your eyes, knowing he wants you to elaborate and embarrass yourself. “You know you’re fine,” you sigh, “and men as fine as you don’t really see me as anything but…well, fat. If they don’t look at me as a hookup, they barely look at me at all.”

Once the truth is out there, you feel stupid and small. Why did you tell him that? He could never understand or care. Maybe those three glasses were a bad idea. Geto only stares at you, silent and making you feel uneasy. Suddenly, he comes around the camera and strides up to you, making your heart pound with every step. When he suddenly sits beside you, the couch dips slightly from his weight.

“What are you doing?” you softly ask, barely above a whisper.

Slowly, he takes his hand and lays it on yours which is placed on your thigh. You shiver as if his hand is touching your naked skin. “I forgot to tell you the other reason why I decided to become a photographer,” he softly mutters, his voice like a rumbling earthquake to you. “To capture pretty little things like you.” His fingers on his other hand trail up and down your leg, as soft as a butterfly’s wings. “To make them feel beautiful with the work I do.”

Your breathing is labored, your chest rapidly heaving up and down. “I-I’m not little,” you softly stutter. Geto chuckles, believing different. “You sure as hell are, even from where I’m sitting.” And he’s right–the man is still towers over you despite sitting down.

You barely crack a smile. “I mean, I’m not…little like the girls you’re used to photographing.” You squeeze at your thigh fat, frowning. "I have arm and thigh fat, and cellulite, and–“

“And you’re fuckin’ gorgeous,” Geto growls, holding your hand tighter. He scoots closer to you, completely in your grill…but you don’t move away. “And I’m not leavin’ here today until I make you see that. So can I kiss you?”

You gape at him, shocked at his brazened question and attitude. He stares at you, patiently waiting for an answer. Your eyes flicker down to his lips that look so soft and pink. You wonder what they feel like…or taste like…

You barely hear yourself whisper out “yes”, but Geto does. You barely have time to take a breath because he is leaning in and pressing your lips to his. It starts off innocent and careful, his soft lips slowly moving against yours. But once he finds that rhythm, the kiss becomes sensual; heated; panty-dropping.

Geto is a fantastic kisser. Probably the best you’ve had. His lips are pillowy soft and his tongue tastes of mint gum and Moscato as he swirls it with yours. You don’t remember moving closer to him or wrapping your arms around his neck, but there you are, on the couch, making out with your photographer. At some point, he grasps your hips with his big hands and coaxes you into his lap despite your squeak of protest. You’re worried you might hurt him but from the way his hands are gliding along your ass, you guess he doesn't give a fuck.

“We don’t have to go any farther than you want to,” he murmurs between heated kisses and moving lips. “I wanna make you feel good, but I don’t have to do that in any way you’re uncomfortable with.” Though you hear his words, you can feel the hardened bulge that has begun to grow in his jeans that you nudge against, rubbing against your clit.

You don’t know if it’s the wine, the music, or him, but something inside of you suddenly switches on, transforming you into the sexy version of yourself that are in Geto’s photos. You want to put the lingerie you’re wearing to good use and you know Geto is the perfect person to help you with that. “You could start by takin’ more photos of me,” you purr, peering down at him. “And I can take these off.” You take his hands and glide them down your sides, making him feel the sheer bodysuit.

Geto’s eyes are hooded and dark as he gazes up at you, ready to do whatever you want. Then a mischievous smirk curls onto his lips. “Actually, I have a much better idea.” He slowly takes you off of his lap and hurries over to the camera, pressing a few buttons. “I’m gonna set the camera up right here on auto. It’ll go off every thirty seconds, so every time you make a move to strip, it’ll take a pic.”

He slowly strides back over to you, making you tremble with every slow, teasing step he takes. “That means I’ve got my hands free to touch every part of you,” he hums, a slow smile stretching across his lips. As if backing him up, the camera shutter goes off, flicking a photo of you sitting there and gaping at him.

He cocks his head to the side. “Well?” he asks. “Get to strippin’.”

With trembling hands, you slowly begin to take down the straps to your bra, exposing your naked shoulders to him. Then you reach behind to unhook the bra but can’t reach no matter how much you wriggle around. Geto peers down at you, smiling humorously. “Need help, mama?” he chuckles. You nod sheepishly, flushing hot at the pet name curled around his deep voice.

He gets on his knees in front of you, coaxing your thighs apart, and reaches behind you to unhook your bra. Once it’s loose, your tits come falling out of the cups like dripping fruit, your brown nipples erect. Geto almost looks pained at the sight of them. “God, look at these tits,” he groans. “You’re just as perfect as I thought you’d be.”

He leans in and plants his face into your breasts, nuzzling his face in them. You squeak as he does so, frazzled by his action as he motorboats you. He must like titties. After getting his fill of your breasts in his face, he latches his lips onto one of your hard nipples and suckles on the sensitive peak. With his other hand, he toys with your other breast, gently folding and jiggling it, tweaking your nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

You whimper and moan at each of his ministrations, losing yourself in his touch. He is careful to not hurt you, but he isn’t being soft either. He is handsy and hungered like a starved man, switching between your breasts to give each nipple their own treatment until your tits are coated in his saliva. “Suguru,” you softly moan.

“Hm?” he hums, still swirling his tongue around one of your areolas. You arch your back into his mouth, your hips grinding against the couch cushion for some relief. “P-Please…touch me.”

He peers up at you from your tits. “Touch you where?” he teasingly asks. You whimper shyly, still squirming about. “Don’t be shy now, baby girl. Tell me what you want me to do.”

The heated look in his eyes and the need you feel encourage you to leave that shy shit on the shelf. “Touch me here,” you whisper heatedly. You move your hand between your legs, pressing your fingers against the tiny cotton panty line pressing against your throbbing cunt. “Touch my pussy. And please, get those clothes off.”

Geto smirks wolfishly at your dirty words. “I can definitely do that.”

He gives your lips a heated, chaste kiss before he stands before you. The song bumping from the Alexa has now switched to Kehlani’s “Can I”–a tune that is fitting for what’s taking place before you. Geto keeps his eyes set on you as he begins to strip, starting with his boots and socks then starting on his shirt, pants, and boxers. He peels each article of clothing off, flinging them across the floor, forgotten.

Once he is completely naked in front of you, you’re able to indulge in all of him. His body looks as if it was carved from stone itself–each muscle ripples along his body like hard granite stone, not too overwhelming but definitely making you feel like he could break you like a toothpick with how small you are. He truly is a big man, with big hands, big feet, and an even bigger dick. He has to be about eight inches–thick, long, veiny, and dripping with pre-cum all for you. You can’t take your eyes off of it despite the rest of his body being delicious.

“Like what you see, baby girl?” he hums, teasingly swinging his hips a bit. It causes his dick, thick and long, to swing like a pendulum between his thick, tree trunk-like thighs. You nod, moving to get your hands on him, but he takes your wrists firmly in his hands. “Uh-uh,” he tuts. “Not yet. You told me to touch you, and that’s what I’m gonna do.”

Without a warning, his hands move under your ass and hoists you up onto his waist. “Oh!” you giggle, surprised and extremely aroused at his strength. He plops you down onto the couch so you’re now lying on your back. He props himself up on his knees between your thighs, peering down at you. “As pretty as this lingerie, I need it off of you.”

Helping you sit up, he gets the rest of the lingerie off of you and pulls it down your ankles that are still strapped in your heels. Once it’s off, you’re completely nude, just in your jewelry and gold heels. The fact makes you shy and want to hide away but Geto’s lustful expression stops you. His big hands slide up your legs and slowly pry your thighs apart, revealing your aching, glistening, wet cunt to him.

“Fuck, you’re wet!” he chuckles, looking up at you between the V of your thighs. “All of this for me, baby? You barely know me.”

And that’s true. You only know as much as his website and Maki have told you. But you find yourself not giving a shit. “Maybe we can get to that later?” you breathlessly suggest. “I wouldn’t mind getting to know you over dinner.”

Your suggestion registers across Geto’s face and his gaze darkens to something way more sensual than before that he knows that this isn’t a hookup. “I know a damn good pizza place near here, if you’re up for it. But lemme make you cum first.” Without another word, he tosses your legs aside and dives into your pussy, swirling his tongue around your clit and gently sucking on your lips.

Yes, Geto is a great kisser, but he’s even better at eating pussy, you realize. His mouth alternates between using his lips to suckle gently on your pussy lips and clit to using his tongue to slowly flick the inside of your tight pussy walls. He takes his time, his movements deliberate and methodical, taking each moment to draw a moan or a whimper out of you.

You’re losing it. You toss your head back against the pillow and grip the couch, your fingers digging into the couch cushions. “Fuck, sugar!” you shout to the ceiling, the nickname flying out of your mouth. How the fuck is he this good with his mouth?

Geto looks up at you, his eyes shining from between the V of your inner thighs. “Call me that again,” he growls before spitting a copious amount of spit onto your pussy and slurping it back up, the lewd, wet sounds driving you farther to insanity. You grip his shoulders as he keeps his hands firmly placed on your inner thighs, pinning them up so your heeled feet are perched high on his head.

“God, sugar!” you whine. “Please keep doing that! You’re so…so…”

All words and thoughts leave you, the pleasure leaving you dumb. You want to control yourself, but it’s especially hard when he swirls his tongue around your clit and dips into your little wet hole to pay attention to you there. He slurps up every ounce of you, not leaving a single drop to waste.

You hope he’ll be able to handle it when you cum because you can already feel it rising. That chord in your core is about to snap with how soft his lips are and the way his nose constantly keeps nudging against your sensitive little button. “Geto,” you moan in a warning. “I-I’m gonna–”

“I can feel it,” he groans into your pussy, still lapping away. “Cum on my face, mama. I wanna taste all of you.” He grips your thighs and moves his jaw faster, coaxing you further toward that edge, his tongue flicking mercilessly against your clit. “Cum for me,” he demands. “Don’t fuckin’ hold back.”

But you can’t. Not yet. “Wait!” you practically shot. He sits up, alarmed and his mouth coated in your juices. “I-I wanna cum with you,” you softly say. “I wanna feel you in my mouth…in my throat…”

You move to fondle his cock, earning a lustful groan from deep in his throat. “Please, Sugu,” you whimper. “I need you.”

Geto raises an eyebrow at you. “You wanna 69?” he asks, shocked. “You’d have to sit on my face for that. Is that okay with you? ‘Cause I’m close to cumming just by the thought of this ass in my face.” He reaches down to give your ass a smack, making you jump slightly.

Though you’ve never 69-ned with anyone before, you know that you want to feel Geto’s dick down your throat now and nothing can curb that hunger until you do. So you nod, determined to not let your insecurities about you weight get to you. Without another warning, Geto lies flat on his back and pats his lap for you to climb up into. With a soft giggle, you twist around so your ass is facing him and you’re looking down at his hard cock waving in your face.

You feel Geto’s arms instantly wrap around your waist, forcing you to plant your ass back onto his face. You squeak, instinctively tensing. “Shh, it’s okay,” he coos, gently stroking your backside. “I can take you easy if that’s what you’re worried about. I just want you to feel good.”

His dick begins to bob up and down in front of you which you realize he’s doing on his own. Fuck, this man is dangerous. “Relax, mama,” he soothingly says. “I’ve got you. Just take what you need.”

And so you do. With a fire igniting inside of you at the sight of his veiny, thick cock in front of your very eyes, you wrap a hand around the base of his dick, biting your lip at the fact that you can barely fit it all in your hand. You start by spitting a copious amount of spit onto his cock and stroke it up and down his shaft, making him shine with your saliva. Geto groans softly at the feeling of your tiny, soft hand wrapped around him from underneath you and begins to gently play with your pussy, gliding his finger up and down your twitching lips and clit.

After lubing him up with your spit, you lean in and press small kisses along the head of his dick, throwing some kitten licks in the mix. He loves that. His toes curl and his hands clench at his sides as more porn-worthy sounds drift from between his lips.

After gaining enough courage, you finally open your mouth wide to accommodate to his size and take him into your mouth. “Fuck!” he grunts as soon as your lips and tongue make contact with his dick. You begin to bob your head up and down along his dick, sliding him in and out of your mouth. You stroke in time with what you can’t gobble down, making sure to keep a secure grip along his slick, wet cock.

He tastes good. He smells good. He feels good. He sounds good. All of your senses are completely taken over by him as you suck and gag on his dick, hollowing your cheeks and opening your throat to take him deeper. “Such a good girl,” he groans, one hand curling in your hair. “Takin’ that dick so deep in your pretty mouth like that. I bet a girl like you has been needin’ this, hm?”

His lewd words encourage you to take him deeper, so much that you start gagging because of how thick he is. He practically fills your throat, making you nearly choke on it. Your eyes begin to well with tears, possibly fucking up your mascara.

But you never give up or stop. You’ll be damned if the first blowjob you give him is the worst one he’s had. You take things slow, allowing yourself time to get used to his size as you slide your head up and down, up and down, along his dick. His moans get louder, his grip tighter on your waist as you gag on his dick like it’s no one’s business. Saliva drips from your mouth down his heavy balls, and you find yourself wanting to suck on those too.

“Fuck, baby!” Geto growls, his hand coming down to spank your ass. The sharp sound of his hand recoiling against your plump ass makes you moan around his dick. “You deserve the same treatment,” he huffs, his hot breath caressing your twitching pussy. You suddenly feel his tongue begin to swirl around your clit, alternating between that and softly sucking on the sensitive, little bud.

“Sugu,” you whimper, your words muffled around his cock. Drool pools from your mouth and down his shaft, dripping all the way down his balls and onto the couch below. You continue to bob your head up and down his shaft, adding your own sloppy, wet sounds to his as he plays with your pussy with his tongue like it’s his own personal playground.

His big hands grab and massage your ass, spanking it here and there. Every time his hand comes down to smack one of your ass cheeks, your pussy clenches in his mouth. It’s just too much!

Click!

Your eyes shift to the left, finding the camera still on auto and taking pictures. You realize that it’s been on auto this entire time. You almost forgot that Geto set it up that way before he helped you strip off your clothes. How many pictures of you are there? And how many of them are with Geto?

The idea of the camera taking such risqué pictures of you turns you on, especially if the photos are of you and him in this position–you sitting perfectly on his face with his long dick in your throat while your pussy is in his mouth, your thighs spread wide for him.

How would Maki react if she saw such photos by accident?

How would she and Mai look if they were to enter the studio right now and find you spread out like a dessert plate for your photographer?

The naughty ideas make you gush much to Geto’s enjoyment. He hums into your pussy, causing your clit to quiver with pleasure. “Feelin’ good, baby?” he coos into your pussy. “Think you can cum for me just like this?”

‘I…” You can’t even utter one coherent word as he widens his mouth and takes your whole pussy into it, his tongue swirling around your little hole.

You quiet your desperate moans by gobbling down his dick once more, stroking your hand in time with the bob of your head. You’re so glad the music is still blasting because neither one of you are quiet. Moans and sloppy sounds of your activity swim around you, filling the air.

Your jaw begins to ache and your eyes water the more you take Geto into your throat. However, when you begin to feel him swell in your mouth, stretching it out further, you know that you can't give up. Not until you make him cum. So you go faster, gluck-glucking all around his cock like your life depends on it. At the same time, you can feel your clit begin to swell and you start to grind your hips down into his face like he’s your personal surfboard.

Geto chuckles from underneath you, holding your hips down against his face. “You gonna cum for me, mama?” he mumbles into your pussy. One of his hands move to your ass to press against your entrance, barely entering but still giving you all the pleasure you need. “Mmm-hmm!” you squeal around his cock. “M’so…so close!”

You can feel that cord in your core about to snap again, the feeling rising every time Geto repeats his actions. You can tell he’s close to by how his hips begin to bump against your mouth, making you take his cock further down your throat. “Me too,” he grunts. “Keep goin’ and I’ll cum for you too, baby girl. Is that what you want?”

His thick finger suddenly slides easily into your slick, wet pussy, practically making you scream. You pop off of his dick, gasping at the feeling. “Yes!” You sob in ecstasy. “Please, sugar! Please give me your cum! I wanna cum with you too!”

That is all Geto needs to hear. Like a madman, he clamps you farther down onto his face so you can’t move, flicks his tongue along your sensitive clit, and strokes your walls a little faster, coaxing you to burst all over his face. “Cum for me, mama,” he growls into your cunt. “Cum all over my face, Y/N.”

And as you bob along his cock, you finally do. The strength in his hands pinning your thighs open and his wondrous mouth push you over the edge. You begin to grind your hips into his mouth, chasing that orgasm like a high.

Finally, with a mewl-like moan and your eyes screwed tight, you burst all over Geto’s mouth and the couch cushion beneath you. Your orgasm crashes into your body, making it shiver and shudder with aftershocks as Geto continues to softly lap at your pussy.

After a few moments of continuous work, Geto finally follows you down that hill into the sea of bliss. “Fuck, I’m cumming!” he groans, and you suddenly feel him burst all in your mouth. His cum shoots out onto your tongue, immediate and creamy. It surprises you so much that you react your mouth a bit, causing his cum to spurt all over your lips and face, ruining your makeup.

Geto groans appreciatively at your mouth and taste, eating you up like an hungered animal. Your mind is hazy and your body feels as light as a feather as you begin to come down from your high as you begin to lap up his cum, cleaning his cock for him. It is by far the best orgasm you’ve had.

Finally, once he’s sure you’re cleaned up and way too sensitive for more, Geto removes himself from between your thighs. With his help, you slowly move off of him though your legs feel like jelly. “Easy now,” he coos, helping you sit down on the couch cushion. He sits up from his spot, his chin and mouth shiny with your cum and his saliva.

“Mmm,” he hums, licking his plump, pink lips free of your juices. “Definitely better than Moscato.”

You breathlessly giggle, licking his cum from your lips. “You too,” you purr, earning a chaste kiss against your lips. “I may need a towel though.”

He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Sorry, baby. You just felt so good, I couldn’t help myself. Stay right here.” He gets up from the couch and walks to the bathroom, his tight, firm ass a sight indeed.

After a few minutes of lounging on the couch, exhausted but satisfied, he finally comes back with a warm, wet towel and helps you dab off his cum, careful not to ruin your makeup. After you’re all clean, he wraps his muscular arms around you and slides you into his lap for closer access. “That was amazing,” you sigh, leaning your head against his shoulder.

He hums in agreement. “It definitely was.” He moves his hand to your forehead, wiping away a stray piece of hair from your sweaty forehead. “Now do you see how fucking gorgeous you are? I bet you would from those naughty lil’ photos now.” He presses his lips to your neck, making you whimper as he kisses the sensitive parts of your skin.

“We still have to finish the photoshoot,” you softly moan as his hands move to caress your breasts. “Maki will be mad if we don’t.” He groans in protest, but moves away from you anyway. “Maybe after some pizza?” he suggests, smirking at you. “I made a promise to you, didn’t I?”

Realizing he was serious from the start, you can do nothing but giggle and press a kiss to his lips, feeling giddy at this new, blossoming feeling of something real starting.

When Geto pulls away from the kiss, his eyes trail down to your body. “Damn; I really made a mess,” he chuckles. You look down, finding your tits and stomach to be coated in his cum too. You reach for the towel but he grabs it first and holds it out of reach. “Geto, I need to get clean!” you whine.

“Not just yet, mama.” He smacks your ass before coaxing you off of him and moves behind the camera. You sit there confused and exposed, his cum dripping down your body, makeup and hair a fucked-out mess, and your pussy glinting in your cum and his spit.

He grins at you, his teeth glistening white. “Stay like that,” he orders before bending down behind the camera.

“Smile for the camera, baby,” he chuckles. Before you can protest, the shutter flickers.

#black fanfic writer #smutty smut #plus sized reader #happy birthday geto #geto smut #suguru geto x reader #suguru geto x plus sized!reader #jjk smut #my works #my one shots #suguru aka sugar

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euno11a · 11 months ago

Text

oof-

Now you’ve touched yourself, it’s kinda hard not to when you have an insatiably hot boyfriend. The relationship isn’t extremely new, maybe a few months in, but not new new. You both have had phone sex, needing that sudden release when he was out on deployment. But every time you touch yourself, you do it only to the point when you begin orgasming. Key word: begin.

the mutual masturbation has been common for you two since the beginning really, letting yourselves reach that amazing peak. So the first time you two got a little tipsy and felt that need growing a wet patch on your panties, Simon knew what to do.

he fingered you, stretching out your wet and gummy walls for him, making sure that you would be able to fit him in your tight cunt. His low, guttural groans did nothing good for you, making your clit throb and hole clench around his fingers.

“Fuck, look a’ you. Takin’ my fingers so fuckin well.”

he groaned into your neck, his hand picking up the pace. The wet sounds from your slick filled the room, making your hands link around his neck and pull yourself closer to him. The tight feeling you get before cumming getting closer and closer.

“Si- Simon! Almost…almost the- ah!” You squealed into his neck, thighs tightening around his hips that held your legs open for him. His fingers quickened again, rubbing that slightly rigid spot inside you that made you mewl loudly.

When your orgasm hit, you expected him to stop, just like you always did. But when he didn’t, you arched your back and reached down to grip his wrist. “Simon! N-no, too much!” You screamed after you felt another surge of pleasure, making him finally stop.

you felt him pull away slightly, looking down at his lower abdomen that was glistening with liquid. He looked back at you with a dark look in his eyes. “Didn’t take ya for a squirter, love.”

the heat rose to your cheeks, voice coming out slightly hoarse. “I haven’t…haven’t squirted before…”

a devious smirk made its way to his face before he leaned down.

“Lets see if I can do it again.”

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ldysmfrst · 11 months ago

Text

American Mate (8) - Time to Tell the Family Pack (M)

Paring: Hybrid!BTS Ot7 x Plus-sized Human FemReader

Status: Ongoing series

Chapter number: 8 of unknown

Word count for Chapter: 11,941

Work count for Story: 45,282

Genre: Hybrid Playmate Au inspired by works created by @yoongiofmine

A little about the author: I am a mother of two beautiful children, one of whom has special needs and the other loves everyone. I currently am not working because of a broken foot. I started a Patreon, and I would be grateful if you donated to help me make ends meet while I am out of work.

Warnings: (I am not good at this, but I will try. Let me know if I missed anything!!) NOT BETA READ!! This story will have a bit of angst, fluff, smut, f/m, m/m, and m/f/m. This chapter does have pack dynamics, comfort, Alpha Space, feisty Omega vibes, close proximity, and multiple scenting. Jin, Yoongi and Jk are extra touchy and Y/n is just along for the ride.

SIDE NOTE: This is my first time writing text conversations into a story. 💜💜💜

BTS HYBRID ANIMAL TYPES: Seokjin - Roan Ferret, Yoongi - Black Jaguar, Hoseok - Marten, Namjoon - Alaskan Timber Wolf, Jimin - Red Panda, Taehyung - White Southwest African Tiger, Jungkook - Flemish Giant Rabbit

AMERICAN MATE MASTER LIST / LDYSMFRST MASTER LIST

“Are you serious? You agreed to be our playmate?” Seokjin inquires, stepping up next to Yoongi.

Standing up, you look at the two hybrids with a small smile. “Yes,” you say, glancing over at Namjoon and Jungkook. “I may not be a normal playmate, and this may not be a typical situation, but I am willing to try to make it work.”

At your words, the pack erupts into exclamations of joy, shock, and happiness. The room is flooded with happy scents and a warm abundance of vanilla.

Their reactions also make you smile, which only becomes wider when you become a Yoongi and Jungkook sandwich. Soon follows Seokjin, then Taehyung and Hoseok, and lastly comes Jimin and Namjoon. You have fully been engulfed in a pack hug.

While it is all good and dandy, they won’t let go. Logically, you understand that they are just finding a way to claim you as their playmate and temporary pack member. The attention is still a little unnerving.

“Well, this is an endearing sight to see, Bangtan. I won’t disrupt too much. I just wanted to let you know that I have sent the contract for final approval. Miss Y/n only needs to attend a health screening appointment and clear her office desk by the end of the week. Everything should be good,” Manager Sejin says from the hallway.

“I will let myself out. Remember you have a schedule that Yoongi is excused from to assist her tomorrow, but the rest of you need sleep. It's getting late.”

With that, you find yourself still in the middle of the warm cluster of hybrid men. As thrilled as most Army would be, it is too much too soon for you.

“Umm, guys. Can we maybe take a step back?” you ask the group, resulting in unpleasant grumbles all around.

“No, like, really. I need air, or space, or breathing room.” With still no response, you raise your voice, “I need out!”

You are now batting and pushing for freedom while raising your voice, breaking the boys out of whatever headspace they have gone into. The boys move to sit or stand around the living room, now feeling mildly awkward as you are feeling disgruntled and a bit overwhelmed.

Once you can wiggle out of them, move to the farthest corner near the backyard doors, take a few breaths, and let the warm vanilla scent settle you.

Man, you need to find out what kind of cleaner or candle they use.

The boys look at each other and have silent conversations with their eyes and hands about what should happen next since they realize they have overstepped yet again.

At this most inopportune time, your stomach decides to roar like a ravenous dragon. Looking at your phone, you realize you ate last at the lunch meeting with Manager Sejin… yesterday.

“It seems that my promise to keep you eating well and happy starts right away,” Seokjin says with a slight chuckle as he walks up next to you.

He hands you his phone with the Doordash app open. “Here you go, dear. Dinner is on me. Pick any place you like and order whatever you want. I think the rest of us should go unpack enough to sleep.”

The boys nod and murmur in agreement, moving to their rooms. Namjoon mentions something about no seafood, and Taehyung asks for nothing spicy.

“Oh… Thank you, Mr. Kim,” you smile while looking through the app, only to stop when a hand is placed on your arm.

“You are with us now. Please use our names or even nicknames. I hope you feel comfortable and allow us to use yours as well,” Seokjin mentions before heading upstairs.

“Names or nicknames. Got it – Jin.”

Before going down the hall, he smiles at you one last time, “When you are done ordering for everyone, just send it out.”

After giving him a thumbs up, you murmur to yourself, “Order for everyone… no, what was it again? Oy… I hardly know what I want most of the time, much less for seven Korean men.”

After choosing something you are pretty sure they would like, you change your choice because there is nothing you really want to have from there. After who knows how many changes, you finally pick a place that has family-sized shareable meals to split and triple-check that all foods are hybrid-safe.

You wander back into the room that has been designated as yours.

Wow.

For the next eight weeks, this is your life. It's like an extended vacation but with working (kind of), hot guys everywhere, and a broken wrist.

Oh, Derek! Pulling your phone out, you go to your group chat and send your friends a quick message, letting them know more or less what is going on but leaving out the playmate part of it all.

Derek: So, have you made it home yet? Evie: Why was I told so late? When can I help you too? Evie: Are you home? I am coming over right now. Evie: Did you eat? You probably didn’t eat, knowing you. I will bring food! Y/n: Yo! Pipsqueak, relax! Y/n:1) I am not home as I will sleep in the guest room at their pack house. 2) You were told late because I just now got things settled. Evie’s name has been changed to Pipsqueak. Pipsqueak: DEREK! Derek’s name has been changed to Fluff Boi. Fluff Boi: You think I won’t like Fluff Boi? Lol, nice try, pippy. Y/n: Aaaaaannnnny ways, you two. I just ordered food for the pack on Jin’s phone, so that means I will eat it soon. Pipsqueak: OOOOOoooooOOOO Jin’s phone. Jin. Next thing you know, it will be Jinnie or Pookie-Bear. Nicknames with him already there, Missy? Y/n: Yes, he asked me to use their names or nicknames from now on and drop the formalities. Fluff boi: Ah huh… sure… and did he say wwwwhhhhyyyy he wanted it dropped? Pipsqueak: Wait… is there more that I don’t know about?!? Alright, Fluff Boi, spill since we all know Y/n won’t. Y/n: Hey! Y/n: It isn’t that I won’t. It's because they are technically clients of PMS, and I have to keep privacy. So, I will ask them if it is okay to tell my family pack for safety reasons. Pipsqueak: Fine, but are you really going to be okay? Y/n: Yeah. I think so. But I do need help tomorrow at my place. What time are you guys free to help me? Fluff Boi: I just got an email about finalizing a new contract in the morning, but that will only take a few hours. So, after 10? Pippy, what about you? Pipsqueak: Is that gonna be a forever thing now? Pippy? Pipsqueak: Y/n, I am free tomorrow as well. So, 10 am works. Y/N: Great! I'll see you both tomorrow at 10 a.m. at my place, and I'll bring brunch stuff. Y/N: Oh, I have to go. The food is almost here now. I should probably give Jin his phone back, too. Pipsqueak: lol, you and your phone hoarding. Bye Fluff boi: See you in the marrow!

Making your way upstairs, you head towards Seokjin and Yoongi’s den room. You notice that all the other doors are closed but theirs. Not thinking much of it, you knock as you walk in and see Yoongi put his suitcases under the bed.

“Hi, Yoongi. The food I ordered should almost be here, and I need to give Seokjin his phone back,” you tell him, looking towards the other half of the room and not finding the phone's owner.

“Thanks, Y/n. Jin-hyung is over with Namjoon and Tae. He is quick with unpacking and knows those two tend to take a while if we want things intact.”

“So, the rumors of Namjoon being clumsy are true?” you ask with a silly smile, knowing how much you have laughed at the TikTok’s of them having accidents.

“I'm afraid so. I suggest you leave any valuables in your flat for now,” Yoongi says with a fond chuckle. “Let’s head down. We can knock on everyone’s door to let them know to hurry up.”

“Sounds good to me,” agreeing as you both knock on doors and yell to hurry them. Various responses come back in agreements and exclamations. Apparently, some are better at unpacking than others. You giggle because you know you are a horrible packer and don’t unpack when you go on trips. Making a hotel or Airbnb feel like home never made sense when it was only temporary.

“Did someone say something funny?” Yoongi inquires at the sound of your laughing.

“Oh no. It sounds like a couple of the pack members are not fast unpackers. So, I started thinking about the few trips that I have gone on.”

Ding Dong. Stompstompstompstomp.

“We got it!” Jungkook and Taehyung run down the stairs to the front door. They barely miss running into you if you hadn’t stepped back into Yoongi.

“Yah! Watch out for Y/n! She already got hurt once!” Yoongi yells at the two, who are not paying him one mind because they are gathering the food that was delivered.

“It’s okay. They didn’t mean it. Sorry if I bumped into you,” you say, looking over your shoulder while you attempt to remain relaxed, his hands resting on your hips.

“Remember, I promised to protect you, so bump into me, run towards me, or jump in my arms, and I will be there for you, always.” Yoongi’s face slightly blushes at his own words.

Yoongi squeezes your hips and uses them like handles to guide you into the dining room. The two youngest packmates have already started setting up the table with place settings and opened food containers.

Pulling out of Yoongi’s hold, you walk over to the far wall and watch the rest of the pack pile into the room.

“Thank you for ordering dinner, Y/n. It smells wonderful,” Yoongi comments as he takes a seat.

“Yeah! We love pasta!” Tae exclaims

“Joonie-hyung! She got your faaavorite! Shrimp Fettuccine Alfredo!” Jungkook excitedly yells down the hall.

“What?! No! That is mine!” You yell, hoping that the Prime Alpha can hear you.

Soon enough, you hear laughter as the remaining pack enters. “You know, Y/n. You could make him eat the shrimp to start gaining your forgiveness,” says Hoseok.

Looking at Namjoon, you see him give the oddest look at that suggestion, then meet your eyes as if he is waiting for your decision.

“Nope, it’s mine,” you walk over, sit at the chair closest to the mentioned food, and start plating. “Shrimp is my protein of choice. I will bite anyone who tries to take it from me.”

At your threat, the whole room freezes and plunges into silence. You notice the change in energy and look around with pure confusion.

Seokjin's presence was felt as he walked up behind you and leaned into your personal space. His chest presses against your upper back, and his voice, low and resonant, fills your ears with a quiet warning: “Don’t make promises you don’t intend to keep.”

Leaning to the side, you look at him, your nose brushing his because of how close he is. With a hitch in your breath and wide, shocked eyes, you ask, “What do you mean, Jin?”

“While in human terms, biting is considered a bad thing and something that can be done in some kinky circles,” Seokjin leans to whisper in your ear.

“For hybrids,” Hoseok appears on your other side. Just as close as Jin, pulling your attention to him, whispers in your other ear, “Biting is a form of foreplay, marking, and mating.”

Your mind is fighting to respond to the information you just learned while your body lights up. You audibly swallow, which is surprising, given how dry your mouth has gone. Goosebumps litter your skin everywhere.

Ultimately, you nod in understanding as the two take their seats on either side of you. Once you regain control of your body, you dare to look around. All eyes are on the three of you; their eyes have darkened.

“Miss Y/n?” you hear Jimin call.

“Yes?” you answer, happy that someone is talking and not just staring.

“Thank you for ordering dinner. Is this from a place you have had before?” he asks with genuine curiosity.

You let out a breath, thankful for Jimin’s redirection, answering, “Yes, it’s called Buca di Beppo. They follow the Italian family-style serving portions. I thought it would be filling, and then we could all share. So, hopefully, I ordered well enough for the eight of us.”

“You did!” Jungkook pipes in as he fills his plate, “Besides, we all should go to bed soon since we have things to do tomorrow. I am sure our schedules will be shared with you soon.”

“Good, I am glad. Well… dig in, everyone,” you encourage with a smile.

At your prompt, the pack does just that. It isn’t long before different conversations happen between the packmates, who are all respectful and trying to keep you involved.

After a bit, you realize that your plate hasn’t diminished even though you know you have had to have eaten the amount you started with. Testing your thoughts, you take another bite of shrimp with mushrooms and broccoli.

Turning your head like you are about to join another conversation, you keep your eyes on your plate. It doesn’t take long before you see Seokjin adding more veggies and Alfredo to your plate.

It makes you smile because he is doing just as he said. Catching his hand before it leaves your plate, you look at him and smile.

“Jin, thank you for providing me with food, but I am full now and don’t want to waste any,” you say in a hushed tone.

A slight frown forms on his face as he looks back down at your plate. Gathering a fork with carrot, broccoli, and noodles, he brings the food to your mouth. With his eyes on your mouth, he asks, “Please, just one more bite?”

Dutifully, you take the last bite in your mouth, licking your lip of the white sauce. You note that he is still watching your mouth. His eyes are still darkened, and his mouth is slightly open as he licks his lip as you do yours. Again, the table’s overall sound level drops, and as the tension rises.

Swallowing the bite, you smile, “Thank you again, Jin.”

“Welcome, Y/n,” he says after clearing his voice and looking away.

“Hey Jin-hyung! Why do you guys talk so informally now? Is it okay for everyone now that Miss y/n is a playmate?” Jungkook whines. “I want her to use a nickname for me too,” his foot thumping on the ground.

Giggling, you smile at the youngest of the pack, “You want a nickname?”

“Yeah! Please? Can I call you by just your name or a nickname, too?” he eagerly asks, his ears standing tall.

Looking around, you see that everyone is also curious about this change. “Well, You can use my name without the miss part or a nickname if you would like. That goes for all of you.”

“As for you,” your eyes settle on the bunny hybrid, narrowing in thought as you hear his foot still bouncing on the floor.

With a smile, you snap your finger and say, “I know! Thumper!”

The whole pack starts to laugh at the nickname you gave him. “What? He is a bunny hybrid, he is full of energy, and he thumps his left foot – he is just like Thumper. I loved Thumper in Bambi!”

At your reasoning, Jungkook starts blushing and sinking in his seat. “You can call me Thumper if you want to.”

After dinner was finished, you attempted to help clean up but were quickly shooed out of the dining room and kitchen by Jungkook, Yoongi, and Hoseok, who were herding you into your room.

You all end up piling on the huge bed. You are sandwiched between Yoongi and Jungkook, but surprisingly, it's not uncomfortable. Hoseok is at the end of the bed.

“Y/n, thank you for ordering dinner at Jin’s expense,” Hoseok starts. “Thank you for letting us use your name too.”

“Oh, it’s nothing. I mean, if we are going to be living together for the foreseeable future, we might as well be friendly about it, right?” you explain.

A hand touching your arm pulls your attention to the bunny hybrid, “Y/n, are you really okay with the skinship? You seem to get overwhelmed by it earlier, and I don’t… I don’t want to be too much for you.”

“Oh, Thumper.” Jungkook blushes at the new nickname, and you giggle, which brings smiles all around. “Skinship is a strange topic for me. In America, it’s not seen as anything special, kinda. Well… agh.” Running your hand through your hair, you huff.

“I used to be very touchy-feely when I was younger and in high school because I thought that is what you were supposed to do.” Fiddling with your… Yoongi’s sweater, you continue, “After some hateful comments and talking with my best friend, Evie. I figured out that I was doing pack-like stuff with humans. And… well, I was branded a, umm… A slut.”

“Fucking humans,” grumbles Yoongi.

“I stopped after that. No skinship, no cuddling, and nothing pack-like outside of Evie’s family and then Derek. Umm…”

“Y/n, you don’t have to tell us anything,” Jungkook says.

“We will keep the skinship down to a minimum or let you lead us in that area,” Hoseok says. “It may be hard for our Yoon and Kook to keep to themselves now, but I will talk with the rest of the pack, and we will keep to ourselves.”

You felt the two hybrids beside you shuffled when he mentioned their names. Jungkook removed his hand, only for you to grab it with a reassuring smile.

“I don’t mind it. Surprisingly, at least not from Yoongi and Jungkook.” looking at Hoseok, you see a slight frown. “Hoseok, I will try my best to be comfortable with all of you.”

“I think because of this,” you hold up your right hand, “and their care when I was freaking out sort of made it easy.”

“Ah, that makes sense. As hybrids, we have a thing called imprinting. Most of the time, it is temporary, you can ask Namjoon, but I think humans have a trauma response like that.”

“That would make sense. I was going to University for Psychology, but they never liked my work. My roommate in the dorm thought I was a hybrid because of how I thought and acted.” Chewing on my bottom lip, “Hmm… maybe I should have majored in Pack Psychology or Hybrid Psychology.”

“Y/n, how did you end up at Playmate Services?” Hoseok asks, scooting forward a little.

“Oh, actually, it was supposed to be a part-time job. I was a Doordash driver when I saw that they were remodeling the office. The sign on the door said they were looking for part- or full-time front desk assistants and remote operators.

“I thought I would do well as a remote operator because I am good over the phone, but I guess the head of HR thought I was good enough for the front desk spot. After working with them over the summer, I realized that I enjoyed working and asked to be full-time,” I explain with bright eyes.

“You mean, if HR hadn’t put you at the front desk and Yoongi hadn't hurt you… we would have never met?” Jungkook asks, pulling your arm to his chest and holding you tight with both hands, almost as if you would disappear if he didn’t.

“I guess you’re right, Thumper,” You squeeze his hands back. “Now, you are stuck with me for the next two months.”

“You say that like it's a bad thing,” Yoongi says as he rests his head on your shoulder.

The warmth of the two and the comfort they bring makes you sleepy enough to let out a long yawn.

“Oh, it looks like it's time to take our leave and let our newest one rest. She has had a long and exhausting day,” Hoseok says with a smile. Patting your leg softly, he takes his leave.

“Yeah, I think I am crashing from all the emotions, and the pain meds I took with dinner are kicking in, too,” you agree shaking your head trying to clear up some of your sleepy haze.

With a last squeeze of his hand, Jungkook gets up and walks to the door. “Oh, when I unpacked, I put a spare toothbrush and paste in your bathroom. Jimin also had me put some of his spare face wash and face creams for you. Goodnight, Y/n.”

Scooting to the end of the bed, Yoongi looks around, “Do you have everything you need? Will you be comfortable sleeping in those clothes?”

“I should be fine, Yoongi. Unless you don’t want me to sleep in these?” I ask because it’s like a trillion dollars worth of clothes.

“I.. ah... It's… fine,” Yoongi stutters, his face gone pink. You knew he might react like this, and you smiled at how cute he looked. Your scent is blooming in the room. “I’d better go now. Sleep well, Y/n.”

With that, you are left alone in the room. Looking around, you feel awkward, finally alone after being with at least one person all day. After another yawn, you go about a nighttime routine using the products left by the two youngest in your bathroom.

Mind you, the products are in Korean, so you hope for the best. By looking at the pictures, you can tell which is which. Once you are done, you glance at the closed bedroom door and hope you have made a good decision. Staying with this pack.

“What… hmm,” Jungkook’s ears perk up, hearing a rustling sound. One of the horrible things about being a prey hybrid, Alpha or not, is that you're always on your guard. While for some, it makes them live in fear, for Jungkook, it pushes him to be the best at everything he takes on.

Waking up more, he listens again. After a moment, he can hear his pack sleeping. A few are snoring, and Jimin is talking in his sleep again. Wait… the rustling sound is back, but it's coming from below. Getting up quickly, he makes his way down to your room.

Knock, Knock.

“Y/n, are you okay? Is there something that you need?” He asks, pressing his ear to the door. Hearing you move about, he stands up straight.

Opening the door slowly, you look sleepy. Your eyes are slightly puffy, and your hair is tousled. You look beautiful in Jungkook’s eyes. “Thumper? Sorry, did I wake you?”

“It’s okay. I am a light sleeper, prey and all. Are you not comfortable? Are you in pain?” he asks, slightly pushing the door open.

“The bed is soft enough, but I normally sleep with lots of pillows or blankets. I get cold quickly, but I will be okay. I promise to stop moving around so much,” you say, pulling down the bottom hem of the hoodie.

Your motions catch Jungkook’s attention. His whole body flushes with heat once he notices you are not wearing pants. Taking a step back, he looks right into your eyes, trying his best not to ogle your bare legs.

“Ah. Pillows. Blankets. Lots.” Glancing back down again, his eyes drawn to the new unseen skin, he swallows. “Yeah, on hold.” He says before jogging back upstairs, leaving you standing at your door wondering what has happened.

Like any young Alpha, Jungkook is giddy at seeing his mate in such a state of vulnerability and dress. To top it off, you needed something he could provide: blankets and pillows. They always had blankets and pillows.

Going into Yoongi and Jin’s den without knocking, he wakes Yoongi by stealing his pillow.

“Kook! What the hell was that for?” Yoongi grunts as he watches the youngest Alpha approach Jin’s side and take a blanket off him.

“Y/n. She wants blankets and pillows. My Alpha says it has to be the pack stuff,” the thought stopped him in his tracks. “Wait, why does it need to be the pack’s stuff?”

“What are you two talking about? You are supposed to be sleeping,” Jin huffs, pulling at the blanket in Jungkook’s hand.

“Kook, wait,” Yoongi says, processing the young Alpha’s words.

“No, Yoongi. Y/n said she cannot sleep without lots of pillows and blankets. I am getting her pillows and blankets,” he says, holding up the named items.

The three of them glance at each other, now gathered in Jin’s half of the den. After taking a moment to process, Yoongi asks, “Y/n is asking for nesting materials?”

That question sets something off in their minds. They scramble to gather different items. Yoongi takes back his pillow, covering it more thoroughly in his scent. Seokjin does the same with his blanket, and Jungkook runs to his room to get his body pillow. The three meet in the hall before heading downstairs, trying not to wake the rest of the house.

Coming to the door, Jungkook jumped in front of them. “Wait! She asked me. I want to be the first to give her something to nest with, please,” the young Alpha begs his hyungs.

“Awhhh… look at our little bun. He is trying to be a good Alpha and provide for her. Isn’t it cute?” Seokjin coos and Yoongi chuckles.

“Hyuuunngg, don’t make fun of me,” whines the bunny hybrid stomping his heel.

“He is just teasing you out of love, Kook. Of course, you can go first. We won’t take that from you,” Yoongi says. “Now go on. We are right behind you.”

Knock Knock

“The door is open, Thumper,” you call from inside.

He pushes it open and walks in with the others right behind him. You straighten up and smile at the addition of the others coming in, too. The first thing Jungkook looks at is– your legs, of course. Why would he not?

It isn’t until the others find you sitting on your bed that you notice they are all looking down, which causes you to look down. Then it clicks. You are not wearing sweatpants anymore. Quickly, you grab the coverlet at the end of the bed and hide your legs, breaking their gaze.

“Sorry, it’s a habit. I don’t like pants when I sleep. It feels like I am trapped again,” you explain with a nervous hilt to your voice.

“No, it's okay. We shouldn’t have focused on that. It just wasn’t expected. Umm..” Jungkook blushes deeply, looking anywhere but you, and then he remembers why they are in your bedroom again.

“Oh, we brought you pillows and blankets,” he says, holding his body pillow. “This is one of my body pillows. I love to cuddle up with it when I am sleeping alone, and it’s super soft.”

You take the pillow gently, “What will you use now?”

“Oh, I will sleep with Jin tonight. I normally sleep with someone else on the first night in a new pack house,” Jungkook fibs because the thought of you not using it because it was his only body pillow is not going over well with his Alpha.

You glance at Jin, who nods in agreement: “It is rare when he actually sleeps alone. It typically only happens when he has an individual schedule or he has to get up before anyone else. But here,” he goes to place a blanket on the bottom of your bed.

His eyes take in how you have bunched up the decorative throw pillows along the wall, the duvet in the middle of the bed like a wall, and it looks like another quilt from somewhere at the foot of the bed. Not knowing where to put the blanket down, he looks at you with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh, here.” You hop off the bed, putting the coverlet back in its place. You take Jin's soft and silky blanket, the scent of cherries puffing out. “Mmmm… smells good,” you comment while climbing back on the bed.

The hybrids watch your movements with interest, watching how Yoongi's hoodie barely covers you. Their Alphas purr at your level of comfort while enjoying the view. Not only are you showing off your plush, milky thighs as you crawl away from them, but you are giving the three Alphas your back, which means that you do not find them a threat.

To top it off, you are building a nest—a Nest of all things inside their pack house!

While clearly, it’s a small nest meant for personal use and not a pack nest, it doesn’t matter to the Alphas. They cannot wait to tell the others about your nest and maybe one day be invited to join you in the nest.

Pulling the blanket and placing it inside the bowl of bedding, you leave some hanging over the side. Grabbing the body pillow, you stuff it against the wall with a smile.

“There, much better.” You turn and sit cross-legged, pulling the hoodie down over your knees, but stop because you remember it is a Valentino and don’t want to stretch it.

Looking at Yoongi, you notice he is holding a pillow, “Is that for me, or are you planning to sleep over?”

“Sleep…sleep over?” Yoongi questions.

“Is sleeping over an option?” Jungkook asks, his ears standing straight up with interest.

“No, no… no sleeping over Kook. It’s her first night here, and she needs her space. We have to respect that,” Seokjin intervenes.

“Thank you, Jin. I do like sleepovers, and it is your pack house.” You offhandedly comment while making minor adjustments to the bedding. “Umm... Yoongi, the pillow?”

“Oh, right. Pillow. I had an extra one you can have. If you want it, that is, but yeah, sleeping over isn’t something I do much of. I typically cat nap throughout the day. I'm not much of a cuddler, really,” Yoongi says while handing you the pillow.

“Oh. Based on what you said in the hall, I thought you would be more comfortable with all of that.” Turning around and sitting on your knees, you place his pillow on top of your pillow at the head of the bed. Looking over your shoulder, you ask, “Is that all you boys brought?”

The sheer thought that they had not brought you enough nesting materials to make you content shocks the boys with concern. Serious faces across them all as they start to think of other things they could bring down to you. Then, as if a switch was flipped, they all scampered out of the room and back upstairs.

“Huh? Where are they going?” you mutter as you go back to rearranging the bed again now that you have more things to snuggle with.

After about five minutes, some hollers and lots of yelled apologies, the boys come back to the room with even more blankets and pillows. Standing around the bed with hopeful but still concerned looks on their faces, you move to the edge, smiling brightly at all the soft bedding you could choose from.

“Oh wow, I didn’t know that you all had so much extra bedding,” you look at them with happy eyes.

The boys share a look that you miss. The three of them know that they have four other confused and upset mates upstairs to whom they owe explanations for stealing the stuff they were using. But you don’t need to know that right now.

Once you have torn down and rebuilt the bed again, it now contains a body pillow from Jungkook and Jimin, pillows from Yoongi and Hoseok, and blankets from Jin, Taehyung, and Namjoon. Settling in the middle, you start to feel more at home. Your sweetpea scent is missing as the Alphas’ scents cascade in waves, heavy with vanilla, indicating to the whole house how happy they are providing for you.

“Thank you, all. I know I am strange, but it just makes me feel more comfortable to have it like this. The soft pillows, the walls of blankets. It's kinda like a blanket fort, or as my best friend Evie always tells people, I can make the best human nests.”

“Ah, yeah, nests. Hybrids do that often, but Omegas are the best at them. Jimin makes them for our pack since we do not have an omega, but maybe one day you two can make a nest or fort in the living room or something on a day off for everyone?” Jin asks cautiously.

“Oh! That would be so much fun, but I am not sure he would want to make one with me. I don’t think he likes me much,” you lament.

“Give him time, dear,” Jin says as he moves closer to the head of the bed where you are resting. “He took what happened with the last playmate harder than he let on.”

“Oh. That makes sense,” you nod with a scrunched brow. “Well, I won’t push him to get close to me. I don’t want to make him or any of you uncomfortable.”

“You are sweet, Y/n. Jimin will like that. He won’t stay away for long,” Jungkook adds. “Umm it’s late. Can we scent you before we go? It will help us sleep.”

“Kookie! Don’t ask her that,” Jin scolded the youngest.

“Jin! It’s okay. You can scent me if you wish. It’s not like you haven’t done it before,” you playfully glare at Jin as you remember being told he did it in his Den.

“Well, I was just trying to keep you and me calm while we were talking,” Jin whines.

“It’s okay. The three of you have been so supportive, feeding me, keeping me calm, and protecting me. Now, you are providing me with additional comforts for sleeping. How could I be rude and not let you scent me?” you say, explaining the logic behind the requested actions and your easy acceptance. While it means so much more to the Alphas, they understand that, hopefully, you will hold the same meaning someday soon.

Smiling with his bunny teeth on full display, Jungkook hops onto the bed, careful not to knock anything over. He grabs your hand and pulls you closer to them all.

You giggle at the hybrid, holding your hands out to Jungkook and Seokjin.

The eldest goes first, taking your left hand and gently kissing the back before turning it over and taking a deep breath. He glances at your face, still calm and slightly pink from the kiss. He locks his eyes with you, and he kisses your wrist. Seeing your eyes widen slightly but not feeling you move away; he becomes bold and licks the skin once with a slight nip before releasing you from his grip.

“Good night, dear. I shall see you tomorrow afternoon. Most of us will be gone before you wake up,” he says, leaving.

Looking over at Yoongi and Jungkook, the two share some wordless conversation, leaving Yoongi shaking his head and walking closer.

“It seems our bun wants to be the last to scent you, which is fine. After all, he is your Alpha right now,” comments Yoongi.

Completely ignoring your confusion at the note of possession in what was just said. Yoongi places one knee on the bed and leans over to you, touching your forehead with his. Breathing deeply, he rolls his forehead along yours and ends his scenting you by rubbing your temples together.

A smile graces your face at the familiarity of it all since Evie and her family would do the same with you whenever you were to leave the house. The instinct to roll your head to the other side and rub your temple on the other side comes on its own but sends the jaguar hybrid for a loop, his heart fluttering at the action, which means so much to him. With a smile on his face and warmth in his heart, Yoongi leaves the room.

You may not be a hybrid, but you sure do act like one, and it just makes Yoongi feel as light as a feather. Sleep will be easy for him… even without his favorite pillow.

“Umm... Y/n, do you know much about bunny hybrids?” Jungkook asks nervously while he runs his fingers over the brace on your wrist.

“Nope,” you pop the p and smile at him expectantly.

“Do you know the common areas of scent glands? Human or not?” he asks, trying to gauge how to go about scenting you.

“Oh, I know this!” you answer excitedly. “The glands are pretty much anywhere someone can sweat, but there is also the wrist. Simply running wrist to wrist with someone will transfer scent, but things like kissing, licking, or biting the area will cause more scent to leak out, much like oil being squeezed out of a sponge.”

“That is surprisingly accurate– for most hybrids,” Jungkook looks up from your wrist. “I am sure you know that Yoongi-hyung or cat hybrids also have scent glands on their temples down to their cheekbones, which is why most cat hybrids end up with plump cheeks no matter how thin they are.”

“Bunny hybrids don’t have glands on their faces like most people think; it’s on our chin,” he says, looking up at you to see your reaction, only for you to have a furrowed brow.

“Your chin? So, when you rested your chin on my lap in Jin and Yoongi’s den, were you scenting me then? Or back in the breakroom, and you rested your head on my lap?” Your face unfurrows as you look at him with almost a surprised but happy look.

“If I said yes, would you be mad at me?” the bunny asks, nibbling on his bottom lip with his slightly larger buck teeth.

Your face breaks out into a huge smile, “No, Jungkook. I am just happy that you feel so comfortable with me. I knew a bunny hybrid in high school, and he would always run away from me. It made me think I was too much for a prey-type breed to be around.”

The mention of another bunny hybrid around you spikes a bit of distaste in Jungkook’s mouth. He was the bunny to be around you—not some weak bunny that ran for no good reason unless he was nervous about being around someone so unique as you. How dare he make you feel like you were too much; you are perfect.

“Umm, Thumper,” Yawn, “I like learning about you, but it’s late. Was the scenting you did upstairs enough for you to sleep, or did you need to do it again? I mean, you did ask.”

He looks over you, taking in your bare legs, Yoongi-hyung’s sweater bathing you in petrichor but mixing nicely with Seokjin-hyung’s cherries and a hint of the vanilla mate scent. A frown on his face because your sweet pea scent is still missing. It causes his heart to ache at how close you came to breaking the mate bond that has barely started.

Watching Jungkook’s face closely, you watch his eyes wander your form, his mind deep in thought. You can tell something isn’t settling well with the hybrid, and while the contract hasn’t been finalized yet, you still feel like you need to comfort him.

Scooting closer, your knees brushing against his leg, you tentatively reach out a hand and slide it across his collarbone and up his neck. While his body stiffens, his eyes remain on your hurt wrist, but you can feel his pulse race against your fingertips.

You duck your head down and lean into his space, cupping his face and bringing him to look at you. Your head is lower than his, and your hair has cascaded off your back to hang like a curtain, brushing his knee. All while your neck is bare and open to him.

“Alpha, scent me,” you request, hoping to ease whatever conflict his was battling in his head.

His eyes flash silver at your simple show of submission to him, which causes your breath to hitch and Jungkook to act.

The next thing you know, Jungkook has you on his lap, with an arm around your shoulders and a hand on your waist. The hand cupping his face is now holding the back of his neck, and your braced hand is gripping his shirt. Looking up, you can watch as the smokey gray color blends through his natural chocolate brown.

“Alpha Kook,” you breathe out once you realize you are speaking to both—at their mercy, in their arms.

The Alpha bunny smiles at you, calling him by name and understanding who you are interacting with. Tightening his grip on your shoulder, he pulls you closer to his chest, curling you towards him as he leans down. The hand on your shoulder tugs the hoodie away from your neck and exposes you from your hairline to your shoulder cap.

Softly, like a feather, he runs his nose along your cheek, along the rim of your ear, down your neck, and across your shoulder as far as the stretched hoodie next would allow. While you fight to keep your pulse under control, you cannot keep your eyes from fluttering shut and goosebumps pebbling your skin.

“Hmm… something’s missing,” Jungkook growls out, his voice taking on an edge that is not helping you sit still on his lap.

“I… I am sorry, Alpha Kook. I never learned how to bring it back,” you manage to get out, knowing that it has to be your scent he is talking about. Unfortunately, your voice comes out breathy and slightly rushed.

“Fix it. My job,” the Alpha states before resuming his scenting of your neck and shoulder. Gliding his chin along your skin, stopping here and there to smell a particular spot.

He can feel your braced hand pulling at his shirt gently and your legs flexing against his thigh when his nose runs below your ear and right where your shoulder connects. Lucky for your pack of mates, you are responsive to his ministrations. Jungkook can’t help it; he has to have a taste and runs his tongue along the same path.

You wanted to think you had it under control, but the moment the wet heat of the Alpha’s tongue hit your skin– it was over. The startled moan that escaped your lips was nothing compared to the explosion of sweet peas, vanilla, and jasmine that flooded the room.

“Sugar back now,” Jungkook groans after taking a deep breath of your intoxicating scent. Taking a few more laps at the scent gland on your neck, savoring the taste of your scent on his tongue, the young Alpha squeezes your waist.

“Might not want to squirm around too much, Sweets. Wouldn’t want you to fall, now would we?” He says as he looks into your eyes. His are turning back into their deep brown, the gray smokiness fading.

“Sorry, Jungkook, I have never been scented like this before. It’s – intense.”

Chuckling, he helps you to sit back on the bed. “Yeah, I tend to go into scent highs with my mates. I guess I just got carried away. If you didn’t like it, I could try not to scent you often.”

“NO!” You sit back on your heels, shocked by your strong disagreement. “I mean, no, the scenting was and is fine. I just… I just need to learn how to respond properly to scentings.”

“Sugar, you responded wonderfully. I wouldn’t change anything. If you think my scentings are something to get used to,” giggles, “I can’t wait till Alpha Chim decides to scent you properly.”

“Alpha Chim? Is that Yoongi’s Alpha?”

“No, Yoongi’s Alpha is Alpha Yoon. Jimin’s Alpha is Alpha Chim. Then there is Alpha Eli, Alpha Hope, Alpha Tae, and Alpha Joon, and you got mine right. Alpha Kook.”

“Interesting, but I think my contract will be over before Alpha Chim decides to scent me properly,” you attempt to joke.

“You won’t have to wait long if you keep smelling like his Y/n. You underestimate how delicious you smell. However, I can tell you are fighting sleep. I guess, I should go now,” Jungkook says with a satisfied smile.

“Oh yeah. Well, thank you, Alpha, for gathering things for me to cuddle in. I can tell the bed is much more snuggly than before,” you say as you quickly crawl into the center of your human-made nest. Making yourself comfortable as you rest one leg over Jungkook’s body pillow, lay your head on Yoongi’s, and cover yourself with Jin's blanket.

“Good night, Thumper.”

“Good night, my Sweets.”

This morning is a blur. You wake up and borrow another pair of Valentino sweatpants from Yoongi and a hoodie from Jungkook. This time, the hoodie is from Calvin Klein. Yay, more brand-name clothes you have never thought of wearing or affording.

Jin also left you a travel bag to put your clothes in and a suitcase to bring clothes back in.

After a quick breakfast, you return to your flat with Yoongi in tow. You didn’t see the rest of the pack before they left because you woke up later than expected.

Standing outside the large but slightly run-down building, you are nervous about him being with you. You can already tell that he isn’t comfortable. Shifting from foot to foot, looking up and down the street, and sticking super close, fur leash attached.

“Yoongi, if you are afraid of being seen or are uncomfortable with this part of town, it's okay. I have lived here for almost 2 years. You can go somewhere else, and I can call you when I am done?” you offer.

“Are you sure?” Pulling his bucket hat down again, he said, “I don't want to leave, but I also want to give you time with your friends.”

He steps into your space quickly as a messenger bike rides by. His arms encircle you, and a low growl is heard.

“Thank you, Alpha, but I think you are right. I need to tell my pack a lot of things.” You run your hands along his shoulders, “but I think the ‘contract’ that Derek is working on this morning is ours, so he will probably break down my door to talk about it.”

“Remember, I am your protector now, Princess,” Yoongi leans in and scents your temple again. “You can call me if you ever need me, even if it’s with your family pack.”

Smiling at this scenting and protective nature, you offer a solution, saying, “Walk me to my door, then you can wander around. Grinders is a great coffee shop about a mile or two away. They have the best espresso and really good crepes.”

“Sounds good,” agrees Yoongi, happy to know you will be safe inside your pack house.

After sending Yoongi off, barely managing to keep him outside your flat, you start by trying to clean up one-handedly. With everything that happened, you had almost forgotten the tornado that blew through, trying to find a ‘run-away’ outfit for work yesterday morning.

Lucky for you, it’s a small flat.

The whole space is open except for the bathroom and the coat closet. The front door opens directly into the kitchen on one side and the bathroom on the other. Then it opens to the bedroom and living room—well, living room if you owned a couch, which you don’t. The far wall holds a sliding glass door to a petite veranda, where you have a smaller-sized clothes washer and drying line.

Since you've been home, you have managed to hang up most of the clothes still on their hangers before you hear the door open shortly after ten. In walk your two best friends in the universe, Evie and Derek.

Evie lives up to her hybrid half. Standing only five feet tall, she has white and grayish ears and a large fluffy tail. She is the sun to your moon, as her many clothes are bright and pastel. She would totally be a Sweet Lolita if America did that kind of fashion.

Once she sets her bag down, she greets you with bounding, pouncing like glee, wrapping you in a firm hug with a purr before it abruptly stops, and she leans away from you.

“Who or what the heck do you smell like?” She asks with her nose scrunching. “I know you mentioned a temp move-in with a pack, but damn, how many alphas are there, and why in the heck did they scent you so much?”

“Ah well… so…”

“Y/N!” Derek yells, storming right up to you with a look of shock, anger, and irritation. “How dare you!”

At his exclamation, Evie turns to stand between the two of you. Omega or not, she has always been your Polly Pocket-sized bodyguard. “What’s got you in a twist?” she asks the fox hybrid.

“Go ahead, Missy.,” instructs Derek with a wave of his hand. “You are the only one who can tell her without us both losing our jobs.”

“Does anyone want some water?” you ask, making your way to the fridge. Your mind is trying to figure out how to tell them.

“No, we don’t,” Derek answers, pulling Evie to the foot of the bed. “Now start talking, or we will leave.”

“We are leaving? We…” with a leveling glance from Derick, Evie sits up straight, “Yes, spill it, or we are leaving.”

“Okay, okay. No one is leaving or losing their job,” you sigh. “They agreed I needed to tell my family pack what was happening to ensure no pack issues and safety reasons.”

Taking a deep breath, you stand and face them head-on.

“Evie, I know you are into anime, but you also know about things like K-pop and playmates and how we work with all that. I already told you that I got hurt at work and broke my wrist. You also know that I am staying with the pack involved in the accident until I am healed,” you pause, ensuring she is on track.

“Yeah, Y/n. We know this already, but what are you not saying?” Evie asks, flicking her tail back and forth.

“So... umm… The pack has seven members. Well, seven Alpha… male… idols, known as BTS.”

“Like the Korean Pop band?” she asks with an oddly blank face

You nod.

“The band that Lily made me learn the fan chant for?” continues Evie, her eyes widening.

You nod again.

“Kim Namjoon, Kim Seokjin, Min Yoongi, Jeon Hoseok, Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung, Jeon Jungkook, BTS!” Evie says, getting louder with each name as she stands up, her eyes unblinking.

“Ah, yep. Those are the guys, and Yoongi was the one who accidentally ran into me but wasn’t able to stop me from getting hurt when he stopped me from landing on the floor,” you affirm.

Running up to you, she smells you, “Okay…” sniff, “Okay… so, which one is he? Cinnamon cookies or rain?”

“Huh?” you asked, confused.

With a slight pull on her tail, Derek says, “Sit back down. She’s not done yet.”

“Oh, there is more?” she asks as she listens to the beta and sits back down.

“Go on, explain.”

“Fine,” you grunt. Rolling your eyes at your Beta’s lack of wanting to share information slowly. “Derek had to work on a contract this morning that will be finalized in a few days because there needs to be a medical clearance and a meeting with Manager Sejin, BTS, and their new companion playmate… me.”

“BTS signed with PMS to have a playmate. You. Our packmate is gonna be a playmate for another pack,” she says, almost in a haze.

“Yep, that’s the deal,” you nod.

“For eight weeks with an open end for continuance, PLUS there is no exclusion of the rut clause, which was originally stressed as a requirement from BigHit because BTS is a mate-bonded pack,” Derek elaborates.

“Mate-bonded? Why wouldn’t they have the exclusion then?” asks Evie.

They both look at you for the answer to find you chewing on your lips with nerves, “Well, because of the injury, Yoongi’s Alpha is very protective of me because of the accident, and, just like you two, he is very touchy with the skinship. I mean, he uses his tail like a leash.”

That last bit causes them both to laugh, which lights the mood in the room.

“Wait, so if Yooooongi—I can’t believe you are using his first name—is protective of you, then why do you smell of two Alpha’s scents?” Evie asks.

“Oh, I think that is Thumper. I mean Jungkook.” You blush at letting the nickname slip.

“oooooOOOOooooo, Thumper. Nicknames with the youngest BTS Alpha. Isn’t he a little young for you? And common Thumper from Disney?” Derek teases.

“Okay, you know age isn’t a thing with hybrids. You all are very accepting of ages and backgrounds for the most part. Jungkook got upset because I called Seokjin Jin and wanted a nickname, too. So, I picked Thumper because he thumps his left leg like the bunny in Bambi,” you elaborate with a slight blush.

“Got it. Well, umm… still doesn’t explain why you are wearing two scents?” pushed Evie.

“I want to know why she isn’t wearing all seven,” Derek butted in and shocked Evie a bit.

Shaking your head at Derek, you answer Evie’s question, “The hoodie is Jungkook’s, and the pants are Yoongi’s. The two have been the most touchy-feely out of them all.”

Memories of last night flash through your mind, and your body reminds you of the scenting session. You can feel the heat crawling up your neck to your face.

“Oh what’s that for? Look, Pippy, our human is blushing,” teases Derek.

“Well, okay. So, it’s interesting that you only smell two scents,” you try to detour from Derek’s comment. “I figured out kind of early on that the rain or petrichor is Yoongi’s scent. But when Jungkook scented me before he went to sleep, I figured out he was like this snickerdoodle cookie-type scent.”

“Excuse me,” Evie says with enough sass that Rue Paul would be happy, “Jungkook from BTS scented you before bed when he has a packhouse full of mates?”

“Evie, it wasn’t just him,” you comment with confidence, which slowly dims as you see the looks on their faces. “Well, he was the one who asked, but Jin and Yoongi did it too.”

“So, you're telling me Worldwide Handsome, Golden Maknae, and Suga all scented you before they went to bed?” clarifies Evie.

“If that means Seokjin, Jungkook, and Yoongi… then yes, but I am pretty sure it was more Alpha Kook that did the scenting than Jungkook,” you contemplate, remembering how his eyes changed to the captivating color.

Evie and Derek share a look of shock. You look at them with a look of confusion, not understanding what their shock is since scenting is a hybrid thing. Derek and Evie scent each other, scent you, and Evie’s husband even scents you and Derek sometimes. It’s like the hybrid thing to do.

“Guys, it’s just scenting. We do it all the time,” you voice with a tone that makes it seem stupid to think it is an odd behavior.

That statement causes the two to start laughing so hard that Derek is on the floor holding his stomach, and Evie is crying. They both repeat your statement like it’s the most amusing thing in the world.

“What the hell, guys?” You cross your arms and are sure your scent has soured to whatever it does with you getting angry.

“No, no, no, there is no such thing as ‘just scenting.’” Derek says, using air quote fingers and everything.

“Huh?” you question, ever so eloquently as you are lost.

“Sweetie, come over here,” Evie says, pulling your attention. You sit on the bed next to her. “We always scent each other because, as you have said, we are a family pack.”

Derek sits on your other side, “I was honored when you invited me into your pack.”

“I had no clue what I was doing. I just wanted you to be around a lot since we got along so well. Then it just felt right to cuddle and do sleepovers like I did with Evie.,” you point out with a smile. “Heck, I was super happy when Evie moved here with her husband and accepted your presence.”

“I remember when she got upset, you added me to the pack without talking with her first. BUTT, the first time you scented me, you did it out of instinct or habit, Y/n, and that was when you brought me into the pack,” Derek looks at you with raised eyebrows.

“So, scenting you was what, like making it official or something?” you ask, trying to understand what they say.

“Pretty much. Do you remember when you moved in, no one would touch you from my parent's pack for months, and then my dad was the first one to hug you, leading to everyone hugging you?” Evie questions.

“Well, yeah, I was shocked. It was like poof; there was no awkward barrier to you anymore,” you giggle.

“Right, because the head of the family scented you when he hugged you and accepted you into the family pack. It was the same thing when you cuddled and scented Fluffy over there. The next time I saw him, I knew Derek was part of our little pack.”

“Oh, okay, but the Prime Alpha didn’t scent me, and I think the only Alpha who was actually present during the scenting was Jungkook’s. When Alpha Kook is at the foremind, Jungkook’s eyes look like this smokey silver color, you say, trying to explain what happened without too much information.

“Yoongi’s eyes turn this captivating golden-yellow cat’s eye,” you continued but noticed Evie's look of confusion. "Oh, Yoongi is a Black Jaguar hybrid, Jungkook is some kind of bunny, and Jin is a Roan Ferret. I haven’t met Jin’s Alpha yet.”

“It’s odd that you have met them in the first place, well, aside from Yoongi’s,” Evie comments.

“Oh no, our little missy here has also met the youngest Mr. Kim’s Alpha, too. He is the handsome white tiger one. Your tiger sure has the prettiest crystal blue eyes,” Derek dreamily comments.

“Taehyung. His name is Taehyung, and he has mates, Derek. Remember that.” You say sternly with an odd tension in your belly.

Snif snif

Evie leans towards you, smelling the air before saying, “Is that a burning smell from you, Y/n? Are you jealous of Derek finding your tiger handsome and pretty?”

“NOOOO! I mean... No, he is an idol, of course. He is handsome and pretty, and any other synonyms that you wanna come up with,” you defend with a flush.

“This is true, and that is something you will have to get used to. Especially since you don’t deny that he is yours,” Derek says with a smirk.

Your mouth drops as you try to find a way to dismiss that little bit of skipped information. The only problem is you can’t because your stomach fluttered when he said that Taehyung was your tiger. Instead of disputing it, you reach behind you, grab a random shirt, and throw it at him.

“Hush you! It's not that he is mine. It's more like I am his. You know… I am his playmate or whatnot. Any who... I realize scenting is mainly done within a pact to mark pack members. I also know that it is done by accepting individuals closer. For heaven's sake, I have seen Playmates get scented in the lobby,” you huff.

"That behavior is reserved for unmated hybrids. Y/N, it isn't something a mated Alpha would do unless he were staking his claim on you or offering you to join the pack, but that is also typically left for the head of the pack," Evie explains.

"Well, this isn't a normal Playmate contract.” Looking at Derek, “You should know this because you are the writing it. Maybe they treat their Playmates as family or extended pack member? I am not going to read into anything. It always gets me in over my head when I do that."

Standing up, you get the travel bag and the suitcase and bring them to the bed.

“Now that you are all up to date, please help me do some laundry and pack in these. I was told to bring the essentials and things I cannot live without since,” you continue in a voice mocking Namjoon’s. We will cover all your expenses; it’s not like we lack the funds to care for anyone.”

“Ah… so not only did you get to play with Idols, but you are to be a sugar baby? Got it. Let’s get going,” Derek teases you.

After that, the three of you do your thing. Working around each other flawlessly, for the most part. The two besties would remind you to stop doing things between letting you know the latest about Evie’s current attempts at having a litter and the tea about what is happening at PMS from Derek.

Knock knock knock

“Are you expecting anyone?” Derek asks, looking at you as you look at the door with confusion.

“No, I am not,” you say, going to get up, only to have Derek move to answer the door first. For being a Beta, Derek has always been the protector of your mini pack.

Letting Derek deal with whoever knocked, you go back to attempting to pick out which of your favorite hoodies you want to take with you if any at all. You can tell the difference between what you are currently wearing and what you are holding. Guess fancy stuff really can make the cotton feel different.

You hear Derek call you a thank you followed by the sound of… a paper bag? Looking at the Beta, you see a massive smile as he holds a paper bag from– Grinders of all places.

Derek clears his throat and reads something written on the paper bag: “Princess, I hope your pack members are taking the news well and you are enjoying your time with them. I listened to your suggestion and am waiting here until you are done. I got hungry and got something to eat, and I thought you might be wanting something, too.”

“Awh, he is providing for his Princess,” Evie says with hearts in her eyes.

“Shh, there is more,” Derek wiggles his eyebrows and continues reading. “When I saw they had shrimp, broccoli, and pesto crepes, it made me think of you. Apparently, you come here a lot because Sergio and Carlo told me to tell you hi. I hope you enjoy the meal. Yoongi. P.s. I got two hybrid-safe crepes for your friends. They come here often, too.”

You can’t stop smiling while Derek reads the note and starts pulling out the food. Yours has a smiley face on it. The conversation swayed back to you and the Bangtan pack all through lunch and up until you messaged Yoongi to come get you.

“Prime Alpha, sir,” your smile drops in surprise at his sudden, unplanned arrival.

“Miss Y/n, hello. Can we please come in?” he gestures behind him, which reveals that he did come with Yoongi.

“Oh, yes, please come in. Umm.. Welcome to my flat,” you greet him as he walks in, bowing respectfully at your two friends.

You smile at Yoongi as he comes in, but he isn’t the last. Dressed in all black with a face mask and bucket hat, another packmate enters. Looking out in the hall, you ensure no other surprise visitors are lingering.

Closing the door, you see Evie and Derek. Both have come together, their tails and ears focused on the three Alphas now taking up most of the entryway. They are not exactly in flight or fight mode but ready to react if needed.

“Princess, did you like the food I sent to you?” Yoongi asks as he removes his mask and stuffs it in his pocket. All eyes turning to you.

“Yes, Alpha. Thank you for providing lunch for my family pack members and me. Honestly, I was so focused on packing that it didn’t cross my mind,” you smile as you approach the family pack members and stand a bit in front of them out of habit.

“I know Jin-hyung said he desired to keep you well-fed, but I had a feeling you would forget to eat with everything going on. I am glad it suited you well. The shop owner seems to think the world of you,” Yoongi says while internally growling at how infatuated the taller owner seemed to be with you.

“I am sure Jin would be happy to know that you helped keep his promise.”

Looking at the other two in the room, you ask, “Why did you two come?”

The hidden Alpha is looking down as he steps forward. Taking off his mask and bucket hat, he says, looking up, “I finished early. I wanted to see your flat and learn more about you and your family pack.”

“Jimin,” your eyes darted to Yoongi and then back to Jimin. “Thank you for coming. Speaking of my family pack, let me introduce you.”

Stepping to the side, Derek and Evie step forward. “Well, for proper introductions… This is Derek, a Beta Fennec Fox hybrid. You have seen each other before and maybe spoken. He works in the contracting department at PMS, and we have been friends since the interviews. He is also the newest member of my family pack.”

Derek respectfully bows to the Alphas, showing his neck slightly, which, oddly enough, fills your heart with pride. He then steps back and scoots Evie close to you.

“This is Genieve, Omega Munchkin Hybrid, my pack sister. She has been my best friend and sister since I moved to California. Her mate is Matt, Alpha Black Bear Hybrid, but he never identified as part of our mini pack.”

Geneive also respectfully bows, following Derek’s lead before turning to you: "The only reason Matt hasn’t joined the family pack is that he sees this pack as more like a sub-grouping of my parental pack, which mates don’t normally join.”

“That and he says that you are strong enough to protect his mate like an Alpha that our pack doesn’t need him,” Derek adds off-handedly. This comment pulls as a reaction from the three Alphas present, darkening their respective scents and causing the two non-Alpha hybrids to freeze.

“Your mate does know she is a human, right?” Yoongi steps up next to Jimin, both holding stern faces.

“Yes, Alpha,” Evie replies with narrowed eyes. “How could he not? Or do you not understand how strong and independent Y/n is?”

“Geneive, Alphas, it’s okay,” you say, trying to calm everyone down.

“Jimin-ah, Yoongi-hyung,” the Prime Alpha calls his mates back. The tension in the room dropped slightly. “I apologize, but the last couple of days and the jet lag have put us on edge.”

“Sure, that’s why you are on edge,” Derek mutters, only loud enough for the hybrids to pick up.

“Let me properly introduce us,” Namjoon says. “This is Yoongi, Alpha Black Jaguar hybrid and second oldest Alpha of the Bangtan Pack.”

Yoongi bows but does not lower his eyes on the three of you or tilt his head. It was a very Alpha move. His eyes look at you before he stands up with a slight smile.

“This is Jimin, Alpha Red Panda Hybrid, and the third youngest of the pack,” Namjoon says, continuing the introductions.

Jimin copies the motions of Yoongi, but this time, his eyes never fall from yours.

“My name is Namjoon, Alpha Alaskan Timber Wolf hybrid and Prime Alpha of Bangtan Pack,” he says as he bows a full 90 degrees. “We thank you for allowing us in your Packhouse. We will treat it with respect and honor.”

“It’s you!” Evie declares—shocking everyone in the room.

“Evie,” you call her and reach for her arm, only to have her shake you off as she steps forward.

“You are the one who got my Y/n into the contract,” then snaps her attention to Yoongi, “You are the one that tried to stop her from falling and injuring her.”

Yoongi holds back from growling at the disrespect from the Omega because he knows it will only upset you. Jimin steps out of the line of fire from the feisty little Omega while Namjoon is frozen in place, and Evie has settled her sights on him again.

You step forward to put yourself between the Prime Alpha and your pack Omega, only to find yourself stopped by the damn black furry leash around your waist, which has been joined by a fluffy tail around your forearm.

Looking at Derek, he just shakes his head. Rolling your eyes at him, you glance at Yoongi and Jimin, only to find both of them looking amused.

“I hope you understand the damage your ‘proposition’ has caused. I know all about your great idea and its failed delivery. You not only offended the head of my pack, but you also offended the rest of her pack. She is not some accessory to be bought and paid for, nor is she just entertainment for your Baaaaantan Pack,” continued the omega with her Napolean complex showing.

“Y/n has a heart of gold. She is fiercely independent, but underneath it all, she needs to be desired, pampered, and treated with respect. So far, from what I have heard, you are all starting out a mile behind the starting line,” Evie continues her rant at the Prime Alpha.

Looking at you, Evie’s eyes flicking down to the tail wrapped about your waist, “She will tell you more when she is ready and only when she feels that you deserve to know what she can be like with the right people around.”

Looking at Yoongi, “She needs protection, and she needs to learn to accept that protection without feeling like she is lacking. She told me of each of your promises to her, and I hope you can achieve them over these next eight weeks.”

Focusing on Jimin, “While not all of you seem to be on the same page as the rest, I hope you take the time to get to know each other and grow.”

“Miss Geneive,” Namjoon speaks up. “We intend to be all those things for Y/n—all those things and more if she allows us.”

“Good. Because if she doesn’t get treated as the Queen she is, then you had better be happy you are in a mate-bonded pack of all MALE Alphas because pups will not be possible in your future,” hisses Evie, causing the whole room to gasp and go wide-eyed at the shortest person in the room.

“Now that that is all settled,” Evie stands up with a bright smile. “Do you want to look around our pack house? I made cookies.”

Previous / Next

Taglist - CLOSED

@braveangel777 @bethanysnow @danielle143 @nenefix-on @im-gemmy @fluffy-canada-pancakes @staytinyville @juju-227592 @levislifeline @carolinexkpop @m00njinnie @drenix004 @singukieee @avadakadabra93 @dazzlingjade @sehun096rainbow @sunshinecallie @seoullove96 @reallysparklychaos @tired7o7 @channiespup @cryingpages @kittycatkrissa @captain-joongz @roseidol @hecateslittlewitchling @ayoo-bangtan @someshinesomedont @cerulean1riz

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fatecantstopme · 1 year ago

Text

This Isn't Real

Pairing: Dean Winchester x plus size!reader

Summary: When you get kidnapped by a Djinn, Dean and Sam risk everything to save you.

Warnings: canon violence, talk of death, cursing. Shit ton of angst. Some fluff. SMUT, oral (F receiving), unprotected sex (P in V).

You woke up in an unfamiliar room as the sun began to peek through the curtains. Your eyes took a moment to adjust as you glanced around the room, desperately trying to remember where you were and how you got there.

Your mind flashed to a dark warehouse and vague memories of searching for something there, but the harder you tried to remember, the farther away those memories became.

You sat up with a groan and began to rub your temples. Where the hell am I?

You felt someone stir in the bed beside you and realized you weren't alone. You turned to look at the person, but you heard his voice before your brain could process what you were seeing.

"Hey baby, you okay?" he asked groggily.

"What?" you managed to croak out--shock settling into your bones as you stared at the man beside you.

He sat up, revealing his bare, toned, muscular chest. You looked away quickly, not wanting to be caught staring. Why the fuck am I in bed with Dean Winchester?

He touched your cheek and turned your head towards him. "You okay? I heard you groan."

"I--um...I'm fine," you stuttered. "What, uh--what happened last night?"

He raised his eyebrows as he regarded you. "We came home from the party early because you were feeling a little...frisky."

"Party?" you asked in confusion.

"Damn, baby, how much did you have to drink?" he asked with a chuckle.

Your face must have show how deeply confused you were, because he seemed to take pity on you.

"It was Sam's birthday party, babe. Remember? We came home, had some damn incredible sex, and fell asleep. Any of this ringing a bell?"

"Sam's birthday?" you muttered, then belatedly yelled, "WE HAD SEX?"

Dean laughed. "Girl, you gotta lay off the whiskey sours. They're messing with your memory." He kissed you on your forehead before dragging himself out of bed.

You were now faced with a very naked Dean Winchester and you averted your gaze out of habit.

"I'm gonna take a shower. Wanna join me?" he asked with a smirk.

"I...uh--I...not right now."

He looked a little crestfallen, but he simply shrugged. "Suit yourself."

As soon as he'd entered the bathroom, you jumped out of bed and looked around the room. Something had to be going on. Something insane. This wasn't real life--it couldn't be.

You glanced down at yourself and realized you were completely naked. You quickly threw on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt before continuing your search around the room.

You saw a couple framed pictures sitting on the bureau near the bathroom door. You picked one up and felt your jaw drop. It was you and Dean on a beach. You grabbed the second one and found it was also of you and Dean, only this time you were apparently in Paris. The third and final picture was, of course, of you and Dean. It looked like some kind of park and he was on his knee in front of you, holding a small blue box in his hand.

You glanced at your left hand in disbelief, but there it was--a very large, very beautiful diamond ring. "We're engaged?" you mumbled in shock.

You set the picture down and collapsed onto the bed. Your mind was reeling and you had absolutely no memory of any of this.

You knew Dean--you'd known him for years--but you were just friends. You hunted together. That was all. Sure, you'd always liked him more than you should have, but he didn't reciprocate it. You certainly didn't wake up in the same bed, and you definitely weren't engaged to him.

When you woke up yesterday, you'd been in a motel room with Sam and Dean...you were hunting something. You closed your eyes and desperately tried to remember what it was. It was almost as if something was blocking that specific memory--no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't grasp it.

Dean appeared from the bathroom, clad in nothing but a towel around his waist. He saw you sitting on the edge of the bed with your head in your hands. Concern knotted his eyebrows together and he immediately crossed the short distance between you.

"(Y/N/N)?" he asked softly when he reached your side.

You looked up at him and felt your heart skip a beat. He was beautiful and perfect...and it was downright offensive. How anyone could look that good was a mystery. An even bigger mystery was why in the hell he was engaged to you.

He knelt down in front of you and took your hands into his. You stared at them, feeling the warmth spread throughout your body.

"What's going on with you?" he asked gently.

Tears filled your eyes as you looked into his beautiful green ones. "I don't know where I am," you whispered. "I don't...I don't remember any of this. I--I don't think it's real."

Dean's face lit up in surprise. "What do you mean? Of course it's real." He squeezed your hands comfortingly. "Do you feel that, baby? I'm real and so are you."

"Then why can't I remember?"

He looked sad. "I don't know, sweetheart. Maybe you just need to give it a little time and then your memories will come back."

You shook your head. "I was in a motel yesterday. A motel with you and Sam. We were going hunting."

Dean looked confused. "Hunting? I've never been hunting and I'm pretty sure you haven't either. Are you sure that wasn't a dream?"

"It felt--real. It was real," you insisted.

"Okay," he said soothingly. "What makes you think that was real and this isn't?"

"I remember it," you whispered.

"And you don't remember our lives together," he finished softly.

You nodded.

He reached up and tucked a hair behind your ear. "I don't know why you can't remember, but I'll be damned if I don't help you figure it out."

He stood up. "Why don't we go see Sam? Maybe going to his house will jog your memory of last night?"

"Okay."

He grabbed your hand and helped you to your feet. "Let's get dressed, pretty girl. Everything's gonna be okay."

You nodded, feeling a little more confident that everything might really be okay.

**********

When Dean pulled up in front of Sam's house, you looked out the window, but didn't have any rush of memories. Nothing about it looked familiar.

Dean came around and opened the car door for you and took your hand as you stepped out. He watched your face for any sign of recognition, but he saw none.

"Come on, beautiful," he said gently, leading you to the front door.

A few moments after Dean rang the doorbell, Sam appeared at the door with a warm smile. "Hey guys! Come on in."

Dean led the way and you followed gratefully.

"So, uh...Dean mentioned you're having some memory problems?" Sam asked gently.

You nodded. "I--uh--I don't really remember much of anything really."

"Hmm," Sam hummed. "Sit. Let's talk."

You and Dean sat on the couch and Sam sat across from you on a chair. Dean explained the morning's events to his brother, while you sat quietly. There wasn't much more to say.

"So what do you remember?" Sam asked you.

"Hunting," you answered honestly. "I remember hunting with you and Dean. We've been doing it for years together."

"Hunting?" Sam asked in surprise. "We've never been hunting in our lives--and certainly not all together."

"Do you believe in ghosts?" you blurted.

Both men looked shocked. "I'm sorry, what?" Sam asked.

"Ghosts, goblins, ghouls, vampires, werewolves...all the things that go bump in the night. Do you believe in them?"

Sam and Dean exchanged worried looks. "No, (Y/N)...those are just stories," Dean said gently.

You sighed sadly. "That's what we hunt," you whispered so softly they almost didn't hear you.

"We hunt monsters?" Sam asked incredulously.

You just nodded, not trusting yourself to say anything else.

"Baby, that really does sound like a dream. An intense dream, perhaps, but a dream nonetheless," Dean said calmly.

"Then why does it feel so real?" you asked softly.

He looked sad. "I don't know, sweetheart. I really don't."

"What about right now?" Sam asked. "Does this feel real?"

You nodded.

"As real as hunting monsters?" he prodded.

You nodded again.

"Then why would you think this isn't real?"

"I guess I don't have a good answer for that," you admitted. "Hunting monsters does sound kinda crazy, doesn't it?"

Dean offered you a soft smile. "A little bit, baby. Especially for a lawyer, a mechanic, and a veterinarian."

Hearing the careers the three of you apparently had sparked another question in your mind. "Dean, how did we meet?"

"What?" he asked in surprise.

"How did we meet?"

"We met when Sam found that stray dog with the broken leg. He asked me to drive him to the nearest vet office...you happened to be the vet on duty that day."

You closed your eyes and tried desperately to remember meeting him, to no avail. You also couldn't remember veterinary school or even having a job at all.

"Hey, it's okay," Dean said sweetly, upon noticing your distress. "You don't have to remember right now."

Tears filled your eyes again, upset and ashamed at your inability to remember your life.

Dean wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close. He kissed the top of your head and whispered, "Everything's okay, baby. I love you. You're safe."

You knew without a shadow of a doubt he was right about one thing--you were safe. You had never felt safer with anyone in your life than Dean Winchester and it didn't matter that you couldn't remember this reality...you still knew he would protect you with his life.

**********

Dean's POV:

It had been three hours since (Y/N) went missing and I was losing my mind. Sam and I had looked everywhere...we should have never let her wander off on her own.

My brother was clearly having similar thoughts as he said, "You shouldn't have let her go out there alone."

"Let her?" I asked in annoyance. "I didn't let her do anything. She got mad at me and stormed off. That's not my fault."

Sam glared at me. "You're the one who pissed her off and you didn't go after her."

I kicked a rock that was at my feet as hard as I could. I hated that he was right and I hated myself for upsetting her. I was terrified of what would happen if we didn't find her in time. "I know," I admitted softly.

Sam's expression softened. "We're gonna find her, Dean."

I looked up at him and sighed. "We've looked everywhere. It's like she just disappeared."

"She didn't just disappear. Something or someone took her."

"We've been in this town for 6 hours. It's not like we've pissed anyone off yet," I grumbled.

"Yeah, I know. Besides, (Y/N) could fight off most humans she came across..."

"She went looking for the Djinn, Sam. I just know it."

"Why would she do that on her own? She's not stupid."

I groaned loudly. "Because she had something to prove!"

"What are you talking about?"

"I was mad at her, okay? I was mad she was so reckless during our last hunt and I lashed out at her. I told her there was no way she could do this job without us, but we were perfectly capable of handling it on our own. I wanted her to stay at the motel while we took care of the Djinn."

"Dean, she saved your life!"

"I know!" I yelled. "I didn't ask her to do that! She could have died."

"That's the life, Dean. We all could die at any time."

I glared at him. "If she died saving me, I would never forgive myself. Never."

Sam sighed. He knew what I was trying to say without me having to say it. I wouldn't admit the truth and he knew it. "You should've known telling her she couldn't do something would make her want to do it."

I closed my eyes. "I'll regret it for the rest of my life, Sam."

Sam shook his head and opened the passenger door of the Impala. "You won't have to because we're going to find her."

I watched my brother get in the car and I took a deep breath. "I hope you're right," I whispered before getting into the car myself.

**********

It had been a couple days since you'd woken up in a strange place. You weren't sure why your memories were gone, but you'd started to feel comfortable. You'd settled easily into a routine, and those memories you'd had of hunting had begun to fade.

Dean had suggested you take some time off of work until you felt more comfortable...and perhaps your memories would return during that time. You'd taken his advice since you had zero memory of college and you didn't feel comfortable having animals' lives in your hands.

Dean had been the perfect boyfriend--fiancé. He was incredibly patient and sweet and it warmed your heart to know just how much he cared. Any time you forgot something that had happened, he would gently remind you about it without making you feel embarrassed or uncomfortable.

It surprised you to realize how deeply you cared for him--how much you truly loved him. He loved you, that much was clear, but you had yet to share those feelings with him. At least, not in your recollection.

You'd spent the day relaxing on your back deck with a good book. You couldn't remember the last time you'd felt this happy. An hour before Dean would be home from work, you went inside and began preparing dinner. You wanted to make him something special as a thank you for being such a good partner.

You were standing in the kitchen finishing up dinner when Dean got home. He came into the room and inhaled deeply. "Smells amazing, babe. Whatcha making?"

You turned to him with a smile. "Lasagna."

He grinned. "I freaking love lasagna." He came over and kissed you softly. "And I love you."

You smiled warmly. "I love you too, Dean."

His beautiful green eyes lit up at your words. He stepped forward and pressed you up against the counter. His arms snaked around your waist and he kissed you deeply.

You squirmed a little when it became hard to breathe. Dean chuckled as he broke the kiss, allowing you to inhale rapidly.

"You're covered in grease and you're getting it on me," you teased. "Go shower and dinner will be ready by the time you're done."

He smiled and kissed you again. "Fine, fine. I'll shower." He stepped away from you and turned to go towards the bedroom.

"Oh, and Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"I've got a surprise for dessert. I think you're gonna like it."

He grinned ear to ear. "Is it you?" he teased.

"Dean Winchester!" you yelled with a laugh. You threw a hand towel at him and he ran from the room to escape, laughing all the way to the bathroom.

You rolled your eyes and went back to finishing dinner. You also pulled a pie out of the fridge and set it on the counter to finish defrosting. You'd gone to the store earlier that day and picked up an apple pie--Dean's favorite.

15 minutes later, Dean came into the kitchen looking refreshed and clean. You were setting the table, so you told him to have a seat and you'd bring out the lasagna.

"Do you want a beer?" you called from the kitchen.

"Water's fine, babe," he called back.

You froze for a moment. In all the time you'd known Dean, he had never turned down a beer...certainly not in favor of water. A voice in your head was screaming that something wasn't right, but you ignored it. You shook your head to clear your mind and quickly poured him a glass of water instead.

The two of you ate dinner, enjoying each other's company. You listened to Dean talk about his day and he asked about yours. It all felt very mundane...very domesticated.

You kept a smile on your face throughout dinner, even though something was bothering you. You couldn't help but feel like you were meant for something more--like your life had a different purpose. Maybe you were just in your head too much since you weren't working at the moment. That had to be it...

"Sweetheart?" Dean asked, interrupting your thoughts.

"Hmm?" you hummed in response.

"You okay?"

You smiled. "I'm fine, Dean. I was just lost in thought."

His eyes scanned your face for a few moments, but he eventually smiled. You were doing a good job of hiding your thoughts from him, but you weren't sure if that was a good thing.

Once dinner was done, you began to clean up. Dean insisted on helping, which you appreciated. You kept him busy with packing the lasagna away in leftover containers so he wouldn't notice the pie on the other counter.

"Ready for dessert?" you asked sweetly.

He smiled. "Sure, baby. What'd you make?"

"I bought it, but I think you'll still like it. Go sit back down and I'll bring it out."

He nodded and went back to the dining room.

You cut a generous slice of the pie for him and a much smaller piece for yourself. Pie had never been your favorite dessert, but Dean loved pie more than he loved anything in this world. You didn't mind having something that wasn't your first choice because you knew it would make him happy.

You came into the dining room and placed the large slice in front of him before sitting down with your own.

He was quiet for a moment and you felt that same voice creeping into your head again. "Dean? It's apple pie..."

"Yeah, thanks (Y/N/N). Kind of a big piece though, don't you think?"

The voice in your head got a little louder. "Sure, but you never turn down a big piece of pie. I've seen you eat an entire pie before." You chuckled at the memory...except Dean looked different in your mind. Rougher, but somehow happier.

"I suppose you're right. I can make some room in my stomach for it. I guess I'm just not the biggest fan of apple pie."

You froze and the voice began screaming at you. SOMETHING IS WRONG! "Apple pie is your favorite," you said quietly.

His face changed as he looked at you. He smiled warmly and said, "You're right. It is my favorite. Thank you for thinking of me."

Your heart was beating so quickly you thought it might actually explode. The man in front of you had gone from 'not the biggest fan of apple pie' to 'apple pie is my favorite' in the span of 30 seconds.

In that moment everything changed. It was no longer just a voice inside your head screaming at you to leave...you realized it was your voice.

"This isn't real," you whispered.

"What'd you say, sweetheart?"

You looked up at Dean--the man wearing Dean's face. "None of this is real." You stood up. "I'm sorry, but I have to go."

He sat there in shock as you rushed towards the door. You weren't exactly sure where you needed to go, but you had a feeling you would find it. You were out the door and running down the street before he even realized what had happened.

**********

Dean's POV:

"This is the last vacant warehouse in this godforsaken city and I swear to God if she's not here, I'm going to kill someone."

"Since I'm the only person here, maybe you don't kill anyone," Sam said calmly.

I glared at him, but didn't say anything. We'd been searching for hours and we hadn't found a damn thing. Not even a clue. This was a last ditch effort to find (Y/N) and I didn't know how I would handle it if she wasn't there. I wasn't sure I could handle it.

I parked the Impala a little ways away from the entrance to the warehouse, just in case the Djinn was there. I didn't want to tip it off. We grabbed our weapons from the trunk and headed inside.

We'd only been inside the building for a few minutes when I heard a sound that sent chills down my spine. It sounded like blood dripping and my only thought was of her before I took off running.

Had I been thinking rationally, I would have realized it was just the sound of water dripping onto the floor, but I was far past rational. There aren't many people in this world that I would die for, but (Y/N) was second on that list right after my brother. She didn't know it, but she meant the world to me. I had to find her--alive.

Sam grabbed my arm and pulled me to a stop. He gave me a look like I was being reckless, which I suppose I was. He pointed to a room up ahead that appeared to be dimly lit. He started walking towards it and gestured for me to follow.

The moment we turned that corner, my worst fears came to life. The only thing I saw was the woman I loved strung up from the ceiling by her wrists, feet barely touching the floor. She was extremely pale and I could see blood slowly draining from her body into an IV bag.

I moved towards her with a speed I didn't know I had. Terror filled my lungs as I reached for her, worried that I was too late. There was a lot of blood in that bag and I had no way of knowing how many had been filled already.

I touched her cheek with shaking hands and I whispered her name. My voice sounded foreign to my own ears as I begged her to wake up. I tried to feel for a pulse, but my hands were shaking too much to tell.

Sam came up beside me and pressed his fingers to her neck. I watched him in terrified silence, waiting for him to shatter my heart into a million pieces.

"She's alive," he whispered in relief.

My eyes widened in surprise and my heart practically flew out of my chest with joy. "We need to get her out of here," I whispered back as I unhooked the IV to stop the blood flow.

Suddenly, Sam went flying across the room and I turned around in surprise. I came face to face with the Djinn, who was reaching for me with blue electricity crackling from his fingertips. I ducked to avoid his hand and the fight began.

**********

You had no idea where you were going, but your feet were on a mission. You felt like you'd been walking for days, but in reality it had only been an hour or so. You belatedly realized you could have just stolen a car, but on the off chance you were wrong about all of this, you didn't want to commit a crime.

After almost two hours of walking, you found yourself standing in front of an old abandoned warehouse. Something about the imposing building felt strangely familiar, but you couldn't put your finger on why.

You entered the building cautiously, silently cursing yourself for not bringing anything that could be used as a weapon. You'd been so focused on getting away, that you hadn't done much--any--planning.

The building was dark and you didn't have a flashlight, but thankfully you'd had your phone in your pocket when you left the house, so you pulled it out to use the built in flashlight.

When you looked at the screen, you saw you had several missed calls and texts, mostly from Dean, but several from Sam as well. You ignored them both and turned on the flashlight.

You began to wander through the giant space, looking for something--anything--that felt out of place. It was a lot harder to find something when you had no idea what you were looking for.

After several minutes of wandering aimlessly, you noticed a room up ahead that appeared to be dimly lit. Well that's weird. You slowly made your way closer, trying to be as quiet as possible.

As you rounded the corner, everything changed. You nearly dropped your phone at the sight before you. You were hanging from the ceiling by your wrists, feet barely touching the ground, blood slowly filling an IV bag to your left.

In an instant, everything fell into place. Your memories--your real memories--flooded your mind. You remembered your argument with Dean and your foolish arrogance as you sought out the Djinn on your own. Clearly you'd been unsuccessful in your attempt to kill it--so here you were, trapped in a dream in your own mind while your body slowly died in the real world.

"(Y/N), stay," you heard Dean's voice say from behind you.

You turned to face him, knowing he wasn't real--he wasn't your Dean. "I can't...this isn't real."

"You're right. It's not. But it will feel real. You'll live out your whole life with me. We'll be happy and normal. Isn't that what you want?"

You thought about it for a moment. "No," you answered honestly. "I wasn't meant to be normal, to live a normal life. I'm a hunter...I save people. If that means I'll never be truly happy, if it means I'll die alone, then so be it. I can't stay here no matter how badly I want to...my real life is out there. The real you is out there."

"The real Dean doesn't love you the way I do."

Tears filled your eyes and you nodded. "I know...but at least he's real."

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, desperately trying to wake up.

In the distance, you heard a voice yell your name. You focused on the voice, but you couldn't figure out whose it was. The voice begged you to wake up, to fight..."come back to me," it pleaded.

You began to sink into darkness, unsure of whether you were about to wake up or die. In the moments before the darkness overtook you, you realized who the voice belonged to. "Dean..." you whispered.

Then, blackness.

**********

Dean's POV:

"Sam!" I yelled as my brother was once again tossed across the room. This Djinn was seriously starting to piss me off.

I knew I needed to get (Y/N) out of here, but I was a little preoccupied trying not to end up strung up beside her. I'd managed to disconnect the IV, so at least she wasn't losing blood anymore.

"Shit!" I yelled as I once again dodged the Djinn's hands.

Son of a bitch! I saw Sam's silver knife lying on the floor, a short distance away from me. I moved towards it quickly, grabbing it before the Djinn noticed.

The creature approached Sam, clearly about to zap his ass into dreamland. I rushed up behind it and stabbed it in the back, bringing it to its knees.

The Djinn seemed surprised and I smiled ruefully. "Lamb's blood and silver--lethal combination, you son of a bitch."

Sam started to pull himself off the floor, retrieving his knife from the dead Djinn's back. One glance at my brother told me he was fine, so my focus turned back to (Y/N).

I rushed over to her and held her up while Sam started to work on the chains tying her to the ceiling. "(Y/N)? Can you hear me?"

She didn't respond, not that I expected her to, but that didn't deter me. "Come on, (Y/N). I need you to wake up."

Sam finally got the chains removed from her wrists and she slumped into my arms. I sunk to the ground, holding her close, and continued to beg her to wake up. I knew I sounded pathetic, but I didn't give a damn.

"(Y/N), please. I know you're mad at me, but I need you to wake up. I need you to fight. Please." I laid my head against her forehead and I whispered so softly only she could hear, "Come back to me."

To my surprise, I heard her whisper, "Dean..."

My head shot up and Sam's eyes widened. (Y/N) didn't say another word, but I knew she was alive. I picked her up and carried her to the car, gently placing her in the backseat before speeding off like a bat out of hell.

I pulled into the nearest hospital in record time, throwing the car into park without a thought. I carefully pulled (Y/N) from the backseat and carried her into the ER.

Sam had gone ahead and gotten a nurse to get a gurney, which I placed her on gently. I watched as the nurses took her back to an exam room and I sent up a silent prayer that she would be okay.

**********

You awoke to the sound of beeping and it didn't take you long to realize you were in a hospital. With that realization came a flood of memories. You had no way of knowing how long had passed here in the real world, but for you it had been days.

You began to stir and you let out a groan as your eyes started to adjust to the brightness in the room.

"(Y/N)?"

You turned your head towards the source of the voice, but you couldn't quite make out the person's face.

"Hey," the voice said again. "You're okay. It's me."

Your eyes were still struggling to focus, but you recognized the voice. "Dean," you mumbled.

You didn't see it, but he smiled warmly. "I'm right here, sweetheart. You're okay."

Your body tensed slightly, unsure of how to feel. He didn't normally call you by any pet names and you suddenly feared you were back in the dream. "What happened?"

"You were captured by the Djinn. Sammy and I found you."

Your whole body relaxed and you let out a relieved sigh. Dean didn't understand why that would calm you, but he didn't question it.

"Thanks for saving me," you whispered. Your eyes finally focused on his face and you knew in your heart this was your Dean. He just looked different and your heart tightened at the sight of him.

"You don't have to thank me. It was my fault you ran off in the first place."

You shook your head. "I was an idiot."

"No you weren't. You could have taken him if you weren't distracted by my asshole comments."

Surprise lit up your face. "So you're admitting you were an asshole?"

He chuckled grimly. "It's a one-time deal, so don't get used to it."

You smiled. "I expect nothing less."

Dean shifted slightly, clearly wanting to say something, but he remained silent.

"What?"

He seemed to debate for a moment, but finally asked, "What did you dream about?"

You sighed. "It doesn't matter."

"Of course it does," he insisted. "The Djinn lets you live out your dream life...so what's your dream life, (Y/N)?"

"Technically, the Djinn grants you a wish and the life you see is based around that wish."

Dean rolled his eyes. "You're avoiding the question."

"It was my dream, Dean. You don't need to know about it." You spoke a little more harshly than you'd intended and you hated yourself a little for it. Especially when you saw Dean wince.

He quickly recovered and threw his hands in the air in mock surrender. "Okay, okay. I won't press, I promise."

"Thanks."

"Let me go talk to the doctor and see when we can get you outta here, okay?"

It was like he knew exactly what you needed. It warmed your heart and broke it all at once. "Thanks, Dean."

"Sure, (Y/N/N)."

**********

"Will I ever not be tired?" you complained grumpily two days later.

Sam laughed from the small table across the room from the bed you were currently curled up in. "It'll just take a little time. You lost a lot of blood, so your iron levels are low. Be patient."

"I hate being patient," you grumbled.

Sam chuckled again. "You sound like Dean."

As if he'd been summoned, Dean himself walked through the motel room door. "Dinner is served!" he announced happily.

You sat up and started to get out of the bed, but Dean ran over to you. "You can eat in bed, (Y/N). You need your rest."

"I appreciate that, Dean, but you're smothering me. I'm tired of laying in this bed."

Sam laughed and Dean just shook his head. "Alright fine."

He helped you to the table and you sat down across from Sam. You were grateful for his help, even if you didn't want to admit it.

"I got you a burger," Dean began. "I wasn't sure if you'd be feeling up to eating one, but you could really use the energy."

You smiled warmly. "A burger sounds amazing, Dean."

He handed you your food and gave Sam his. He pulled out his own, then reached into the bag and pulled out a small item, which he handed to you. "They, uh...they had freshly baked brownies, so I got you one."

Your eyes lit up as you took the neatly wrapped brownie from him. "Thanks," you said softly.

"They're your favorite, right?" he asked.

He remembered. "Yeah. Especially with the--"

"--little chocolate chips," he finished for you.

You stared at him for a moment, a soft smile gracing your features. Your eyes began to water, so you looked down at your food to keep from embarrassing yourself. "This looks delicious."

The three of you ate your dinners in companionable silence. When you were finished, you got out of your chair and started to make your way back to the bed. You were still tired, but you felt stronger than you had in a few days.

Dean immediately jumped out of his seat to help you, but you gently told him you were okay. "I'm alright, Dean."

His hands seemed to twitch as he watched you walk away, clearly wanting to make sure you were okay. He didn't relax until you sat down on the bed and started to unwrap your brownie.

"She's strong," Sam said lowly.

Dean turned his attention to his brother. "I know. I just worry about her."

"You know I can hear you both, right?" you said from your bed.

Both men chuckled lightly.

"The room's small and voices carry," you teased.

"You're not wrong," Sam said as he got up with a stretch. "I actually think I'm gonna hit the bar. I could use a drink after the week we've had."

Sam looked pointedly at his brother, which didn't go unnoticed by you. You watched as some sort of nonverbal exchange happened between the two men.

"I'll be back later," Sam said, getting what appeared to be the final word in whatever discussion they had been having. He walked out the door with his jacket and Dean locked it behind him.

"Since when does Sam go to bars by himself?" you asked.

Dean shrugged, but didn't meet your gaze. "Guess he really needed that drink."

"Or he wants to get laid," you mumbled.

Dean groaned. "Gross."

You laughed. "He's not a monk, Dean."

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean I want to think about him getting jiggy with it."

"Did you just say 'getting jiggy with it'?"

"I was trying it out."

"Maybe don't," you said with a laugh.

He grinned and flopped down on the other bed. "I'll make a note of it."

The two of you fell into silence, but unlike during dinner, this one felt uncomfortable. The tension hung in the air and there was so much you wanted to say to him...and so much he wanted to say to you.

"Do you wanna watch TV?" you asked, breaking the silence.

"Not really."

"Okay."

The silence continued to drag on until Dean finally couldn't take it anymore. He sat up and looked at you, gaze seeming to bore into your soul. "Can I tell you something?"

"Sure."

"When you saved my life, I was pissed. Beyond pissed. I haven't been that angry in a long time. But it wasn't because I wanted to die or anything like that...I just didn't want you to. When that vampire sent you flying and I heard you hit the wall, I was terrified. More terrified than I've ever been before."

He took a slow breath before continuing. "Once the vampires were all dead and you started to get up, I felt relieved--you were okay. But then all I felt was rage. I was so angry with you for putting yourself in harm's way like that...for risking yourself to save me. I'm not entirely sure I deserve saving, but I do know if you had died to save me, I would have never forgiven myself."

You stared at him in silence, lips parted, eyes full of emotion. "Dean..."

He held his hand up to stop you. "That's why I yelled at you...that's why I said everything I said. I didn't--I didn't know how to explain what I was feeling, so I lashed out at you. You didn't deserve it and I'm sorry. I'm so damn sorry, (Y/N)."

"I appreciate your apology," you said softly. "But I won't apologize for saving your life. If I'd let you die? I wouldn't have forgiven myself."

He looked a little surprised. "I didn't think about that."

"You never think you deserve saving. You don't think you deserve happiness or peace, a normal life--god forbid love... You think you're some kind of monster, but you're not, Dean. You're the best person I know. You're loyal to a fault, strong and brave, but also kind and gentle. No one hates you the way you hate yourself, Dean Winchester, and I'm tired of you projecting those feelings onto other people."

This was absolutely not the direction he'd imagined this conversation going...but here they were. "I don't know why you think that...you've seen me at my worst."

Your expression softened. "You're right. I have. But I've also seen you at your best--and that is a sight to behold. You're incredible, Dean...in all the ways that matter."

His eyes roamed your face searching for any sign of deception. When he saw none, he decided to seize the opportunity to ask you the only question he was dying to know the answer to..."What did you dream about?"

"What?"

"What did you dream about?" he asked again.

You inhaled sharply. It wasn't that you didn't want to tell him about the dream...about the life the two of you had shared...it was just that you were afraid. Afraid of how he would react, what he would think, what he would say...you weren't sure if you wanted to risk it.

You looked into his eyes for what felt like eternity. They seemed to swirl with emotion while silently begging you to tell him the truth.

You sighed. "I dreamed of a normal life...nice house, good job, friends, a fiancé...the whole nine yards."

His lips parted in surprise. He wasn't sure he wanted to ask, but he needed to know. "Fiancé?"

You nodded. "Yeah...I, uh--I was as surprised as you are."

"Is that what you want? A normal life with some random guy who doesn't really know you?"

"He wasn't some random guy," you admitted quietly.

"What?"

"In my dream...my fiancé was someone I know."

"Like in the real world?"

You nodded.

"Who?" Please don't be Sam. Please don't be Sam. Please don't be Sam.

"It doesn't matter."

"It matters to you or you wouldn't have dreamed it...the Djinn wouldn't have chosen him."

You hated that he was right and you didn't want to tell him. You were afraid it would ruin your relationship...you loved hunting with Sam and Dean. You loved traveling the country with them, hunting monsters, saving people, living in shitty motels...you loved it all, but most of all you loved Dean...and that was something you had never shared with anyone.

"It wasn't real," you whispered. "It was just a fantasy."

Dean decided to take a risk and he prayed he wouldn't regret it. "It doesn't have to be a fantasy."

"What?" you asked in surprise.

"If you tell him...maybe it can be real."

There was something in his eyes that gave you pause. After a few seconds, you realized it was fear. He was afraid of what you were going to say...and it gave you hope. Why would he be afraid of what you were going to say if he wasn't hoping it was him?

"It was you," you admitted quietly.

His lips parted and he inhaled deeply. "Me?"

You nodded slowly, suddenly unable to speak.

He stood up and crossed the short distance between you. He very gently pushed you back against the pillows and crawled on top of you, hovering mere inches from your face. "Do you love me?"

Your eyes widened in surprise. This was not at all how you imagined telling Dean how you feel, but you found yourself incapable of lying to him. "Yes," you breathed out.

"Say it," he whispered.

"I love you, Dean," you said softly.

He closed his eyes and laid his forehead against yours, his breathing labored and his hands shaking slightly. "(Y/N)..."

He stopped thinking then and let his body guide him. He'd loved you for so long--wanted you for even longer--and now he was finally going to have you. He pressed his lips against yours and kissed you like he was trying to memorize the shape of your lips.

The kisses you'd shared with the fake Dean in your dreams were nothing compared to the real thing. Actual sparks flew, igniting a need for him deep within you. Your hands clung to his flannel shirt, pulling him even closer to you.

He moaned softly against your lips and you parted them to allow him entry. His tongue dominated yours in a passionate fight for power. His hands began to roam the soft curves of your body, eliciting low moans of desire from you.

"I don't remember a time when I didn't love you," he admitted against your lips. "I don't want to remember before."

Your heart seemed to sing at his words. Dean had always been a deeply emotional man--he felt things more strongly than anyone you'd ever known, but he bottled up his emotions and hid them from the rest of the world. Hearing him finally confess his deepest secret made you feel incredibly special.

"I love you so much, Dean Winchester. So, so much."

He smiled. "I love you more, (Y/N) (Y/L/N)."

He kissed you again and you melted into him. His hands continued to roam your body, and yours did the same to his. A passionate need for one another had been ignited within each of you and neither of you could deny it.

You began to peel off his clothing and he did the same to you. The idea of being completely naked with Dean would have normally terrified you, but you could feel the waves of love oozing from the man above you. You knew you weren't the kind of girl Dean normally brought home, but none of that mattered--not when you could feel the love he had for you.

By the time you were both naked, you were overwhelmed with the desire to feel him inside you. He, however, had other plans. He began to slowly work his way down your body, stopping to show your breasts some attention.

"You know, I always loved these," he mumbled as he nipped and sucked at your breasts, earning sweet moans from you.

He continued his journey down your stomach, placing kisses to the scars and stretch marks littering your skin. You felt worshipped in a way you'd never experienced before.

Finally, Dean landed right where you wanted him, but he didn't give into you easily. His lips kissed along your inner thighs, appreciating the soft skin, biting gently to see your reaction.

Your breathing was ragged and you began to beg him to do something, anything. "Dean please," you murmured. "Stop teasing."

He chuckled lightly, but he didn't deny your request. His lips pressed against your core and he pushed your legs as far apart as he could without hurting you. His tongue darted out and licked a stripe up your pussy.

He let out a deep growling sound and dove into you like a man starved. He dug his fingers into your hips as he tugged you closer to him, feasting on you like you were the most delicious thing he'd ever tasted.

Your moans spurred him on, the sweet sounds like music to his ears. He could have happily stayed here between your legs until the end of time, but he had a feeling you would make him stop eventually.

Your fingers were interlaced in his hair and you were begging him not to stop. Not that he would have, but you didn't know that. "Dean...I'm so close."

He moaned in response, sending shivers of pleasure up your spine. His tongue focused its assault directly on your clit and you cried out. Your legs began to shake and he could feel you nearing the edge.

He sped up his ministrations, earning another cry from your lips. Your hips bucked slightly and he shifted his arm to hold you in place. "Oh god!" you yelled.

You tightened your grip on his hair as you felt the impact slam into you, orgasming with a cry of his name. He worked you through your high, only stopping when you squirmed out of his grasp.

"Dean," you murmured as he crawled back up towards your face.

He kissed you softly. "I wanna be inside you so badly, baby," he whispered into your ear.

"Please..."

"I don't have a condom," he said softly.

"I don't care. I want you, Dean. Please."

He could never deny you, especially when you begged him so prettily. He lined himself up with your entrance and sheathed himself inside you with one quick thrust.

You gasped his name and dug your fingers into his shoulder blades. The feeling of him filling you up was enough to push you closer to a second orgasm.

Your pussy gripped him like an iron vice and he had to take a deep breath to control himself. He hadn't felt like this since he was a teenager. He needed to get a grip or he was going to cum embarrassingly early.

Your hips shifted beneath him and he hissed softly. "Dean," you begged. "Move."

He started to move and the sounds of wet skin against skin began to fill the room. Those were soon overpowered by your moans and his low groans.

"Fuck, baby...feels so good," he whispered. "Such a sweet, tight, little pussy."

You moaned and your pussy clenched even tighter around him.

He groaned and his hips stuttered to a stop. "You gotta stop doing that baby, or I'm gonna cum."

You grinned wickedly. "Isn't that the point?"

He nipped at your neck playfully. "Not until I get another one from you."

He started to move again, which wiped the smirk from your face in an instant. You wrapped your legs tightly around him, effectively locking him into place inside you.

"Normally I'd have you in a hundred different positions," he muttered, "but I wanna see your face when you cum. I wanna watch my pretty girl fall apart because of me."

Your pussy clenched and you moaned softly in response.

"Yeah? You like that? You like that I wanna watch you?"

You nodded.

"Words, baby."

"Yes, Dean," you gasped.

"That's my good girl."

You practically preened at the praise and Dean made a mental note of it for later. For now, he was focusing on drawing another orgasm from you and staving off his own.

"You're so tight, sweet girl. Feels so good."

Your moans spurred him on, forcing him to keep up his pace. He pulled himself up slightly, tugging your hips with him, allowing him to reach your g-spot with each thrust.

You let out a cry a pleasure that he knew he would die to hear again. He closed his eyes for a moment as he sped up, desperately trying to keep himself from cumming before you did.

"That's it baby, I know you're close," he murmured.

"So close," you cried out.

"I know," he whispered. "I want you to cum for me, baby. Cover my cock with your sweet juices."

Your legs tightened around his hips and your nails dug deeper into his back. He watched your face as you began to shake--orgasm mere seconds away.

"Eyes on me, baby," he demanded.

Your eyes flew open and met his gaze. You gasped--the intensity of it all pushing you over the edge. You yelled his name as you came, explosions of light flashing behind your eyelids as they fluttered closed.

He watched your beautiful face as you rode out your high with him. He shifted focus to his own quickly impending orgasm. His breathing became more ragged and you opened your eyes to find his again.

"Feels so good, baby," you murmured.

His eyes locked onto yours and he panted heavily.

"I know you're close, handsome. I want you to fill me up."

His green eyes widened. "You sure?"

You nodded. "I need it, Dean. Please." You clenched down on his cock to emphasize your words.

That was all he needed in order to reach his peak. He moaned your name as he started to cum, whispering it into your skin like a chant as he emptied inside of you.

You held onto him tightly as he came down, his body shaking slightly from the intensity of his orgasm. He finally collapsed on top of you, unable to hold up his own weight.

You placed a soft kiss to his head and listened to his breathing begin to regulate.

Eventually, he rolled off of you, leaving you feeling strangely empty. He managed to drag himself off the bed with a murmured "I'll be right back."

You watched him walk to the bathroom, and for a moment you worried he'd regret it, but your fears were assuaged by his reappearance with a wet washcloth.

Your face must have betrayed your thoughts because he knelt before you and said, "I love you, (Y/N), with everything I have."

You smiled. "I love you too, Dean."

He returned your smile and began to carefully and gently clean you up with the washcloth. It was warm and it felt nice to be cared for like that.

Once he was finished, he threw the washcloth into the bathroom and crawled back onto the bed. He tugged you close to him and pulled the covers up over you when you started to shiver.

"Anyone ever tell you you're beautiful when you cum?" he asked softly.

You laughed lightly. "You would be the first."

He kissed your hair and tightened his grip on you. "I intend on being the last."

You turned your head to look at him and felt your heart melt a little. You didn't have a good response for that, so you simply kissed him, hoping your emotions were conveyed in the action.

He leaned into the kiss and whimpered slightly when your lips left his. You kissed him one more time and he let you pull away after several seconds.

"You should get some sleep," he murmured. "I'll keep you safe."

You knew without a shadow of a doubt that he would die to keep his word. You settled back against him, a silent response of trust and gratitude. He gave you a soft squeeze as you began to drift off to sleep.

This life might be hard...it might be full of pain and loss, but it was real. The man holding you in his arms was real. The love you felt for each other was real...and you wouldn't change any of it.

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