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whatifyoulivelikethat · 1 year

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(seven) days a week, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: It only takes seven days (a week) for Jeon Jungkook to get you in his bed to fuck you right. And showing up in weird places. And kissing in the rain. He's crazy. Okay, it's kinda complicated.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language (reader swears a lot); strangers-to-lovers; vague allusions to a loveless childhood and bad parenting (no specifics); JK might be insane and you do tell him that he is; slight crack; fluff; smut (fem reader, fucking with clothes on and off, m and f-receiving oral, light hair pulling, fingering, nipple play, choking, penetrative sex, handjob); non-idol!BTS – persistent!Jungkook x noona, def tsundere!reader lol ft instigator-cupid!Park Jimin setting them up

this directly follows Jung Kook's 'Seven' MV, so make sure to watch it (although I'm sure you've seen it if you wanna read this lmao)

monday.

“What? Something on my face?”

You stared at him and he stared back. Wide eyes, slightly parted lips, the look of caught prey and all. You had your hands in front of you, long fingers laced together, elbows on the table. You probably shouldn’t have scowled like that. That was a bit rude, especially to someone you didn’t know well, but this guy had been staring at you all night and barely speaking to you, even when prompted, so you were getting both impatient and annoyed at accepting this invitation.

“You wear… a lot of jewelry,” Jeon Jungkook said out loud, with awe.

You looked down at your hands. Well. The rings, the bracelets, even the earrings on both your ears, all sterling silver or white gold. You had even swapped out the lower lobe piercing for a pair of dangling dice earrings with grey freshwater pearls. You liked the cooler tone to bring some death to your warm-toned skin.

“Yeah. Is that a problem?” Your low voice had an edge of guarded to it.

A quick, nervous head shake. “No. No, it’s cool. I’ve never seen a girl wear so many chunky rings like that. I didn’t think I’d like it either, but then I saw you.”

You opened your mouth to snap out a comeback and then his words hit you.

There was no doubt that Jeon Jungkook was cute. Black-brown hair with a lustrous quality. Bright, expressive dark brown eyes. Slightly rounded cheeks with a distinct jawline. He said he had, and you could see, tattoos and piercings, something you quite liked but not a requirement. Built body, in the way that people where when they were committed to taking care of their physical appearance. Not so much in vanity, but in the way that matched how they felt that they should look in their head. Respect for that. But, in this chance that was what you had expected to be his, Jungkook didn’t taken it.

He looked the part.

Didn’t act it, though.

Black blazer, matching trousers. White t-shirt. Dressy but not too much. To be honest, the outer appearance didn’t matter much to you. It actually mattered the least. You wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. Really. You were often told that you had too little patience for people, but, come on!

This conversation was awkward.

Hah.

You turned as you sensed a lively presence re-entering your icy atmosphere. Hmph. The actor playing Cupid in the instance. He looked the part too. Baby blue dress shirt with the top buttons undone. Ivory slacks, neatly pressed. Black hair perfectly curled over his forehead, framing an angelic face. Full lips forming an infectious smile that made his eyes disappear as small hands folded away the receipt and tucked his card back into his wallet.

“Ah, the waitress and I had a cute little chat,” flirty Park Jimin chuckled, giving you a little eyebrow wiggle. You rolled your eyes at him. “Did you guys have a nice talk while I was gone?”

“Um…?” Jungkook started, nearly afraid to glance at you for some support.

You gave Jimin a deadpan stare. “You trying to get her number?”

“Me? No, no!” he waved his hands, sitting back down to lean in. “She gave it to me anyway though.”

Figures Park Jimin would introduce you to a guy and also get the number of someone else in the restaurant. You deliberately hadn’t answered Jimin’s question, but he hadn’t noticed.

Jungkook, however, did.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed him deflate a little and you winced in unease, not sure if you should have avoided it, but at this point the waitress had returned, lashes aflutter and gushing about how they just had to try to fried ice cream and it was on the house, as long as Jimin promised to come back, right? Right?

Jimin promised of course, of course, with a big smile.

You completely ignored him and picked up one of the pieces of fried ice cream – mango, it seemed, by the color – and placed it on one of the small plates before setting it right in front of Jungkook.

He perked up and gave you these big, hopeful eyes.

You didn’t say anything but felt your cheeks flush and your gaze shift, putting on an expression of reluctant apology. After a half second, you bowed your head just a bit, shaking off the moment and serving yourself before serving Jimin.

What?

Damn flirt didn’t even notice.

tuesday.

“You didn’t like him?”

“I mean, there’s nothing to like or dislike. He barely said anything. Also, Jimin, I told you, I’m not really a relationship person,” you sighed into your phone, walking quickly to the train station. “I don’t want to give this guy the wrong idea about me. He didn’t really strike me as a fuck-around-and-find-out kinda guy.”

“You said you would change your mind for the right person though.”

Sometimes you thought Jimin argued with you just to argue.

“Yeah, and I don’t even know what kind of person he is because he didn’t say shit,” you barked back to that snippy tone on the other side of the line. Some idiot honked at you and you resisted the urge to flip him the bird. Maybe he wasn’t honking at you. The hanging out the window and catcalling could be to the couple walking next to you.

You highly doubted it.

Also, maybe you just wanted to give someone the middle finger because you couldn’t show Jimin right now how much you deeply appreciated him.

“Jungkookie’s just super shy, but wait a minute and he’ll make you his.”

You rolled your eyes. Damn bad habit that you were forming ever since you became friendly with this mildly infuriating angel. “He’s not making me do anything.”

“I’m telling you; he suits you perfectly. You’re being stubborn and not giving him a chance. Anyway, I gave him your number, so don’t worry!”

“Wait, you did wha–”

The roar of the subway train below cut you off.

“Oop, you’re at the station. You’re breaking up! Can’t hear you, byeeeeeee!”

You twitched as Park Jimin hung up on you.

Asshole.

You pulled your phone away from your ear and pulled up the app to pay for your ticket. Paused for a second. New message, unknown number. Then it was your turn, so you hovered your phone screen, heard the beep, and hurried to the correct train line, finding the one to take you home. It was hectic even now, still within the dregs of rush hour, so you didn’t even think to check for the content of the text until you sat down with a big sigh, somewhat of a fwump with your distressed bomber jacket and baggy cargo pants, both made of thick black fabric. The side of your jacket slid off, exposing your bare shoulder and tight white tank top.

The guy standing about a meter away from you snuck a glance in your direction.

You tucked your tongue in your cheek and yanked your jacket back in place with the hand that was holding your phone. Noticed the screen flash, reminding you of the notification.

Fuck it.

Pressed your thumb and your phone unlocked.

Hey, it’s me. Jeon Jungkook… I wanted to say that I’m sorry about not talking that much last night. I was really nervous because you were so pretty and self-assured. I was so impressed that nothing I could think of seemed like a good thing to say, so I blanked out. I’m very sorry. I hope it is okay for me to text you like this.

An essay.

You paused for so long that you felt your cheeks heat.

The fuck?

You frowned at yourself. For some reason, even though he hadn’t talked much, you could hear the text in your head as if Jungkook was speaking to you directly. Sense the anxiousness in the typed words. See those big eyes gazing right at you with a mixture of curiosity and wonder and what-ifs. You sighed, feeling defeated. It would simply be rude to not reply.

I apologize for being too intimidating.

You sent it before thinking. Aw, shit. That was a bit short, wasn’t it? Damnnit. You saw the sending quadlet of dots spinning slowly, struggling due to you being underground. Fuck. If you sent another message now, it might be out of order and that would just get confusing. And what else could you add? Oh, geez, you didn’t even confirm it was you. The conversation with Park Jimin must have scrambled your egg brains.

The train roared out of the tunnel.

All of a sudden, the message sent and a reply instantly popped up. Actually, a serious of bubbles, rapid-fire like bullets. The confirmation must have lagged.

You’re not intimidating at all! Well… not in a bad way. In a sexy way. I mean, in a good way! In a cool way, like you’re not afraid to say what you wanna say. I really admire that in a person, so I really admire that in you. Sorry, that was weird, wasn’t it? I made things weird… ㅠ.ㅠ

You blinked slowly at the messages. It was pretty clear Jungkook had sat there and pondered over the first message for quite a while and these subsequent ones were stream of consciousness spewing. Honestly, kind of funny. Heh. You could sort of imagine it. Maybe he hadn’t expected you to respond right away. Hm, you wondered if he had hoped you would. He really was trying hard, huh. For what? What was the reason?

You tucked your tongue in your cheek and responded anyway.

Oh, you’re definitely weird, but you never know. I might like that. What’s the outfit of the day, Jeon Jungkook?

Were you fishing for a photo? Of course. He would probably scramble to put on a good outfit to impress you. To your surprise, the downloading image icon popped up instantaneously, spinning, spinning. You tilted your head, surprised at the prompt obedience. He must have snapped a pic right away when you asked. It was taking time to load though. You saw some people getting off the train and looked up, checking the stop. Oh, yours was next.

You took care not to look directly at anyone around you, keeping your sling bag in your lap.

Then you looked down to the inquisitive dark brown eyes of Jeon Jungkook with messy black hair and a black leather jacket. White t-shirt. It was a selfie, so you couldn’t see the pants. It was something borderline vain about the angle, but also a seek of approval in that parted mouth, silver ring and stud dotting the edge of the right side, flash of white teeth and slight bite of the left side revealing a small mole at the center underneath his lower lip.

You twitched.

Bold, wasn’t he?

You weren’t sure if you liked it – well, you didn’t mind it, you just weren’t sure if you like-liked it, what was he trying to play at here, trying to get your heart to beat fast or something, hmph – and you clutched your phone pointedly, your rings clacking as you prepped your fingers to type back… something, be honest here… and your fingers wavered.

Shaking a little.

You let out a breath you hadn’t known you had been holding.

Oh, the pants are blue jeans, but I’m out right now so there’s no mirror to show you.

You heard your stop being called and stood up automatically, filing behind other people getting ready to step off, the train slowing down, everything slowing down, finding yourself staring at Jungkook’s expression in the photo, why were you staring, shifting your eyes quickly, then back, it wasn’t like Jeon Jungkook could see you, ugh, this was so annoying.

Do you want to see? I can take another photo when I get home.

You let out a frustrated exhale that no one else around you could understand. Maybe not even those closest to you would get it. But you knew what it meant, and knowing also frustrated you.

Being self-aware was a bitch.

You finally sent your answer.

I much prefer this look on you than the blazer. Is this your normal fashion style?

You had worn a flowing white blouse and floaty black skirt the night before at dinner, but it was not your typical style. Well, it was, but it was one of your work outfits since you had come straight from the office. Something you wore to not get in trouble with the dress code and knowing you would have to meet up with people later. Sometimes you were a little riskier if you were feeling frisky, but Jimin had told you to look nice for the friend he was introducing you to.

But maybe it would have been better to look more you.

Then again, the restaurant was pretty high end. They might not have let you in.

Oh. Yeah. Hahaha, I wore the blazer because Jimin-ssi told me to look nice for you. I guess this is street-style? I don’t know… I’m not fashionable, I only wear what I think is cool or comfy. What about you?

You strode out of the train and briskly walked to the elevator, muscle memory already knowing where to go, typing back. Pausing when you saw the vending machine. A green tea would be nice right now.

You veered off course and headed to stand in line.

I think my friends would describe my style as dark and strong. They’re always telling me I should dress more feminine or at least in less black, but one of my core traits is not listening to shit people say. And swearing.

You tapped your card and made your selection. Waited out the whirr and clunk. Didn’t pay much attention to the world around you. It was a typical day, people passing by, no warning feelings. And, besides, your phone was much more interesting right now.

You did not just think that.

You scowled at your reflection in the glass of the vending machine before picking up your drink.

I hope I get to see you sometime soon so I can appreciate it. :)

You raised an eyebrow at your phone as you ticked open the can and started walking again, taking a crisp sip. It was slightly irritating that he was better at flirting over text than in person. Or maybe it had just been the circumstance. Come to think of it, it would have been weird if he did with Jimin right there, although you were sure Jimin wanted to be there to witness whatever unfolded. The awkwardness was probably just as entertaining to him as it would be if Jungkook had been more forward.

Hmph.

What was more irritating was that you weren’t instantly annoyed by it.

Hmmmmph.

Are you saying you aren’t intimidated by me, Jeon Jungkook?

You hurried home, following the streetlights, breathless, not because you were running, but because you wanted to be home so you could be alone with…

I’m saying I like feeling your effect on me in person.

Him.

wednesday.

The next time you saw Jeon Jungkook, you were groaning and setting your forehead on the edge of washing machine, screaming internally. Would have banged it against the metal if you weren’t going to lose a substantial number of brain cells. You were going to pay cash because you wouldn’t get that card surcharge if you did but, of course, of course you had accidentally shorted yourself and pocketed the wrong amount.

Fuck!

Now you were already at the laundromat. Walk back home and lug your shit to and back to get the right amount? Or just forget it and pay the extra charge? You had already put the detergent in. Fuckity fuck fuck. Technically you could go home, it wasn’t that far, but, ugh, it was extra annoying today because you had slept late and now you were grumpily doing your life responsibilities. Come back a different day? No, you had specifically told yourself to get off your ass and get that pile washed. Damnnit, if you hadn’t slept late and scrambled your egg brains, this wouldn’t have happened!

But you had been talking to Jeon Jungkook.

Ending the conversation had been more difficult than you expected. You gritted your teeth, feeling stupid for pulling such a teenage move. Still young, huh? Young and stupid.

Grr.

You heard the metal slide of the money drawer being closed and then an approval ping!

You jumped back, freaked out at the thing you hadn’t done, and then snapped your head to the sudden presence next to you. Dark blue jeans with giant holes at the knees. Gray hoodie sliding off a built right shoulder. White ribbed tank top. Messy black hair. A piercing, no, two on the right side of open lips.

Big, round, dark brown eyes.

You noticed he was wearing a few silver rings himself.

“Um… hi? I noticed you were short a little so I just…” Jeon Jungkook trailed off, giving you a hopeful look.

You gawked at him.

“What are you doing here?”

Ouch. A little too snappy. Jungkook faltered, those peepers shifting. “Ah… well…”

You bit your tongue and reeled it back. “Sorry. I didn’t expect to see you, is all. Obviously, you came here to wash your clothes like everyone else.”

He reached up and scratched the back of his head nervously. Wait. Why was he looking at you like that?

“W-Well, actually… Jimin-ssi told me you normally come here on Wednesdays to do laundry and I was nearby so I figured., maybe, I’d just check if you were here…”

You stared at him.

“You’re stalking me?”

“N-No!” Jungkook sputtered, waving his hands frantically even though you hadn’t raised your voice.

There was a bristle to your tone though. Indignation and frigidity you couldn’t hide. You frowned, narrowing your eyes, cornering him with your gaze. There were only a few people on this slow day, which was why you picked Wednesday to do laundry, but all the patrons had AirPods or other earbuds in, busying themselves with their shoving of clothing in and out of the washers and dryers. No one was going to interrupt anyway.

Not their business.

“I… I…”

“And how did you recognize me anyway? My head was down,” you remembered, advancing on him, and Jungkook took a step back, swallowing hard. Your outfit was baggy too, dark denim jacket and jeans, the tight black tank hidden by the bulk.

“I couldn’t forget how beautiful your hair is,” he mumbled out quickly, looking a little too mesmerized by your fierceness. Forget that. “And your hands were on the edge of the washer. Your rings. The star chain bracelet you wear. I…”

He was fixated on your collarbones and the thin black choker around your neck.

Or lower.

“Oi! My face is up here,” you hissed, snaping your fingers and making him jerk his head. He had stopped backing up though. You pointed at him, somewhat rudely. Actually, very rudely, but whatever. “What do you mean, check if I was here? And who told you? That idiot. I’ll kill him.”

And why was Jungkook looking at you like that?

Like he thought you were hot when angry.

He better stop that shit because you were losing your irate demeanor for some fuckin’ reason.

“I texted you almost all night. That wasn’t enough?” you half-growled, half whispered.

A tiny head shake.

Ah, shit.

You deliberately did not think that was cute.

“I liked it so much that I…” Oh no, oh no, not that honest tremble and deep gaze into your eyes. “I was hoping I could talk to you again, in person, more bravely this time.”

You opened your mouth to sink in that verbal bite and nothing came out.

The entire laundromat could flood right now and you wouldn’t even notice because you were staring at Jeon Jungkook and wondering if this audacity was freaking annoying or freaking impressive. Not this damn guy within two days leaving you speechless. Well… actually, no, never mind the technicalities.

“Are you even thinking before you do things?” you grumbled, not yet backing down.

Jungkook stuck his hands in his hoodie pockets suddenly. Hm? Nervous and shaking? You couldn’t tell, but you watched him closely, observing his body language, your eyes following those lines.

“Mmmm…” He bit the left side of his lower lip. “No?”

You strongly resisted the urge to roll your eyes.

Shy smile greeting you, accompanying the lip bite.

“I’m just listening to my heart.”

Now you visibly cringed. “Don’t say stuff like that.” Looking away slightly, somehow unable to meet those honest eyes.

“Why? You don’t like it?” Genuinely curious.

“You don’t mean it.” He did mean it and you could see that he meant it but you did not want to admit that you knew that he meant it. Yeah. “You barely know me. We only talked over text.”

“But you gave me thoughtful, frank answers. I don’t believe that you were being dishonest,” Jungkook protested, following you over to the tables a few steps away from the washing machines. You dragged your laundry bag with you and kept your voice down.

“I told you, I’m a straightforward an honest person. I won’t lie to you. And I won’t hesitate to cut you off if you lie to me,” you reminded him.

He nodded. You wanted to shake him and yell at him to stop giving you those eyes. “So I just decided to do what I wanted to.”

You cocked your head at him in disbelief. “You didn’t think you went too far?”

What was with that mischievous smile? “I’m the all-in type.”

You let out a puff of air.

“Also, you haven’t told me directly that you don’t like it,” Jungkook pointed out, leaning toward you, smiling.

You gave him a deadpan stare. “You don’t get me,” you said back flatly.

Those dark brown orbs sparkled. “That’s okay. I don’t have to get you to think you’re cool, clever, and stunning.”

Your eyebrow twitched.

“And why do you say that? Because you see how people look at me? Because you enjoyed my useless facts and tangents last night? Because you think with your dick?” You added the last question with bite, leaning forward too, having enough of this, not really him but…

The fact that you didn’t want to tell him to fuck right off.

Silence.

Jungkook was staring into your eyes.

“The shape of your eyes is so… perfect.”

You felt your ears heat.

He raised a finger and traced the air right in front of your left eye, the scent of his clean cologne drifting in your direction. “The way they sharpen in the inner corner, like a bird of prey… And your irises are so dark and striking…”

You grabbed his finger out of the air.

“Don’t be… weird.”

Why did you pause? Hello? No way you’re being like this over this guy right now.

You pointedly pulled his hand down, pinning it to the table. “Pay attention.”

Jungkook was giving you this dreamy, hazy expression. “Huh? What were you saying?”

You narrowed your eyes. “You can’t even listen.”

He leaned in closer and you caught a whiff of that delicious cologne again. “Sorry. I will. Say it again, please. I’ll listen carefully.”

The fuck were you saying again? The lights of the old laundromat flickered but you barely noticed. A common occurrence in these ol’ mom-and-pop places. And, besides, you were staring at this determined, patient smile and mentally shoving down those butterflies that you definitely weren’t feeling, nope, violently compacting those distracting internalizations into a tiny, windowless box.

“You don’t seem very good at listening,” you finally said, tight and even.

“I am,” he insisted softly. “I promise.”

“I’m too much for you.”

Or was Jungkook too much for you?

“I’m offering all of me,” he whispered to the shared air between you and him. “It might not be enough so I’ll be to work hard and do my best.”

What was he so earnest for? You hesitated, the edges to your hard demeanor softening. You didn’t want to trust stuff like this. It was so easy to get burned and you wanted to be the one to do the burning. And how could you trust people? Even you didn’t say everything out loud. Some things you could say and some you couldn’t say. It was too much trouble to believe in someone.

You had never received unburdened kindness when you were younger.

“We’re not on the same page.”

Jungkook tilted his head. “Aren’t we? But you’re reading me easily and I’m doing my best to learn about you too.”

Your shoulders released the tension. “Don’t pretend with me. It’s clear you’re a relationship kind of guy. And, while I’m not against them, I can’t deliver the same kind of devotion you are willing to give. Can’t you see that?” You removed your hand from his, not realizing it was still there.

His fingertip traced a line on the back of your hand.

Sparks raced along the base of your head.

You remained stern, feeling heavy and hot in your clothes.

“Why do you say that? You don’t think you’re loyal?” he asked very sincerely.

Your eyes narrowed. “Of course, I am. If I like you in that way and you asked me to bury a body, I’d already be digging the grave. But I’m not a flowers-and-chocolate kind of girl. That’s not how I show affection.”

You had no idea how far your clothes were in the cycle. The whole world could crash down and you would still be staring at Jungkook and his body language. His shoulders slouched a little more so he could look up at you with those pleading eyes.

Inhale still in your throat.

“Then, do you not like me?”

Say something.

But you didn’t say anything at all, gazing down at Jeon Jungkook and wondering why you couldn’t get through his thick skull that you were a bad decision. Honestly? Honestly, fine, it was because you grew up with parents that never liked each other nor their kids. Honestly, it was because you grew up too fast and with too much independence to not see the filthiness of the world. Honestly, it was because you saw the finicky innate nature of humanity of never devoting themselves to anything, much less anyone, and why would they?

People were crazy.

Call it personal experience.

You sighed.

“Jungkook, I’m not gonna lie to you. I fuck before I care about anybody. I’m only living to get my pleasure and not take care of anyone, okay? I’m barely keeping my own head together. I’m blunt. I don’t need or want romantic gestures. I just want dick. There. I’m not a good person.”

He was smiling.

Aw, shit.

“I must be favored to know you.”

You twitched, tucking your tongue in your cheek to avoid scowling, which was pretty much scowling anyway, so you failed spectacularly.

“Also, you haven’t said you don’t like me,” Jungkook pointed out. Infuriatingly. “Because it’s not true and you don’t lie. Right?” He said your name with a little too much sweetness and knowing.

You yanked your hand out of his and shoved his hard, muscular chest. He bounced back, grinning a little too happily. You told yourself to hate it and you didn’t. Fuck. “What are you even still doing here? Gonna fold my clothes for me or something?”

The energy at being offered a household chore was disturbing. “Oh! I can! I’m very good at doing laundry. And washing dishes. And cleaning. I like doing that stuff.”

“Sure, you do,” you puffed sarcastically,

“I do,” Jungkook insisted, coming around the table. “And I’m good at it.”

You scrutinized him up a down. “Yeah? Because you don’t know where else to put all that energy of yours?”

His lips parted but all he did was gawk at you. Oop. Right on the money. You were liking this expression a little too much. Maybe it was time to lower these walls a bit. After all, it didn’t seem like Jungkook was going to go away any time soon. He was pretty harmless anyway.

“I could drain you in a night,” you chuckled, smirking.

The tips of his ears were getting red at your lowered tone.

“You think you could keep up?”

thursday.

Ugh, it was one of those days that fuckin’ suuuucked.

Woke up late and had to rush to get dressed and bounce, then got to work and some shit was going down about missing documents and people moving papers they shouldn’t have, forcing you to play manager because everyone else had no goddamn spine to fix anything. This department would be a disaster without you. To top it all off, you had people stalling, keeping an irrelevant conversation going, leading you on a wild goose chase with no funny honking – turns out the documents were in some random copier right behind you, for fuck’s sake – and you had a very strong inkling it was because of what you looked like.

Which was fine.

Unless you were actually trying to do your job.

Then, one of your side dishes you had brought for lunch had gone off, so you ended up slightly less full than you wanted to be, and you forgot your jacket at work, leaving it hanging on the back of your chair in your rush to leave, and the train halted several stations before your stop because there was some emergency maintenance or some shit.

Fuckity fuck.

It wouldn’t be so annoying it if wasn’t so windy, but it was and you were wearing a sheer sweater with splashes of jewel-toned colors and a longline black sports bra under it – you had worn your jacket half-zipped until your boss had left in the middle of the day and your co-workers didn’t care how you looked, the dress code was stupid anyway – and black jeans, mid-rise. The rules were more about being covered up rather than being professionally dressed.

The job was primarily sitting at a desk and sorting documents, did it matter how you looked?

Or maybe you just broke the rules a little because you were a rebel.

Your stomach growled angrily and you told it to shut the fuck up.

You stood on the corner halfway between work and home, debating on whether or not to do some damage. The problem was you didn’t have any of the usual bad habits most people had. You didn’t drink, so getting stupid drunk and getting thrown out of the noraebang was out of the question. Also, you couldn’t sing. But, anyway, you barely took medicine, let alone know where or how to procure the illegal fun stuff, so that was also out. You didn’t have a sweet tooth either so you couldn’t down a whole cake with gusto, although that sounded like a great way to go.

You sulked.

You had an addiction, but you just stared at the names in your phone and felt guilty. Guilty! For what? For some guy you met literally less than four days ago? Ugh, no, this couldn’t be you right now. Seriously? Seriously? You crossed and stalked up the block, not yet deciding what to do so you kept walking until you figured it out during this internal battle. You had to keep this guy at a distance. Okay, yes, you could admit you liked him.

And that was the problem.

If you didn’t really like him, you could just fuck him and establish those hard boundaries. No issue. You had been in love before but that was a long time ago and ultimately you ended it because it wasn’t right and you weren’t good enough to be devoted to.

You breathed out hard, the unease spilling out of your insides.

It was definitely easier to not expect anything from anyone. You had spent a lot of life not having and, ultimately, not needing to rely on others, both out of necessity and simply having too much to work on by yourself. Years of fighting off bitterness that you had always tasted, years of letting go of important moments realizing that supposedly important people in your life would never be there for them, years of lashing out and becoming the shadow of the abuse you endured. Eye for an eye and all that. Keep the cycle going, until you had that moment in the eye of the storm to get hit by lightning and realize that this wasn’t right.

It wasn’t any particular thing.

Just finally accepting the creeping self-awareness that you had been miserable and were making other people miserable on purpose because you tore them open and took their hearts to find yours.

Metaphorically, duh.

So now you sort of did this martyr shit of being there for people when you could and not asking for anything back. Especially not a relationship. Intimate to heal a heart and then give it away, which totally worked if they weren’t into you, just into what you could do.

You didn’t really feel it yourself but you did get sex out of it.

Bad addiction, yeah.

Your phone vibrated in your pocket.

You ignored it.

Stepped into a chicken place and stood in line, feeling the weight of your world on your shoulders. You brain tried to reason with you that it was Jeon Jungkook’s own fault if he got hurt. He was the one who chose to spend all that time sitting at the laundromat with you talking about random shit. Your favorite video game – Persona 5, excelling in your top three most important things about a video game: music score, gameplay, and art style. Your favorite American rapper – Ludacris and the way he could rhyme the weirdest words. Your favorite movie genre – surrealist psychedelic drug movies, which earned you a confused head tilt. You had asked Jungkook what he liked. Mood lamps. Singing. Watching cooking videos on YouTube.

Had asked him if he believed in soulmates.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket as you ordered at the kiosk and paid.

You don’t think I could have met you in another life?

You stood with the other waiting patrons, ignoring everybody and your phone thrumming against your hip, thinking about last night.

I probably broke your heart.

Thinking about that smile with two piercings and a lip mole. That smile didn’t trust your answer at all.

Maybe the universe is giving me another chance to make up for my past mistakes. I can’t give up.

You made a face at past Jungkook’s answer, too taken aback all those hours ago to scowl properly. Maybe you had been too tired. Too worn down by his earnest nonsense to fight it properly at that moment. Your hand hovered over you hip, wondering if you should check it. Then dropped.

What, did you need to see him every day or something?

Your name was called and you stepped up to receive your order.

Oh, fuck, you miss him.

You yanked your phone out of your pocket and stared at it as you walked out of the restaurant, only to get plopped by a fat raindrop on the lit-up screen. You looked up to the gray sky and let out a hiss.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!”

You turned around and sat down, grumbling as rain poured down and you replied to Jungkook’s texts.

Stupid.

Not him. Just you.

friday.

“What are you trying so hard for?” you snapped.

“Why aren’t you trying hard enough?” Jeon Jungkook shot back.

It was going really well.

Clearly.

You let out a hiss and flicked your hands as if you were trying to physically get rid of his reply. Argh, this… man! The thundering rain was pouring down, down, and you were both standing under a bus stop with no intention of taking the bus. You bit back the volume of your sudden anger. There was no need to yell anyway. No one was coming out in the thick of this monsoon.

Only you and crazy-ass Jeon Jungkook.

Switched tactics. "And what makes you think your virgin ass–"

"I'm not a virgin!"

"You are here!"

And you jammed two fingers into that very muscular chest, right next to the left side of his sternum. Too fast to be stopped. The shove actually made him stumble. Or maybe it was the utter shock of the verbal and physical double jab combined with the deep growl that your voice had suddenly become. His racer jacket and black hair were slick with rain. Half of his white t-shirt soaked. Even the front of his blue jeans drenched.

You panted hard after your outburst, the anger draining away all in a flash of lightning.

Jungkook stared at you with stricken eyes.

The rain pelted down, down, beating into the silence.

“How did you know?” he breathed out.

You didn’t but somehow you did, feeling something inside of you break. Not afraid of the world. Never, never again. No, afraid of what you could do, afraid of breaking something this pure, because you broke your first love too and that past guilt still lingered. Not that you thought Jungkook loved you. He couldn’t This was only the fifth day of him knowing you.

The fuck is going on?

“I see your type all the time,” you sighed, your damp hair all over your face. “Looking for light in black holes instead of stars.” The rain had slipped off your black leather jacket. Your cropped band shirt wasn’t wet, but your black cargo pants were sodden knees down.

This coldness, however, didn’t come from the rain.

“You really should stop. For your own good.”

You looked away from him, feeling as if your own words had pierced bullet holes into your walls. Dark sky, never-ending rain, cars struggling to drive, people running with umbrellas and ponchos, arms huddled close to their bodies, and here you were just standing here in the rain, the world acting out your mind. How nice. You thought you had come to terms with everything, but obviously not. Somehow once you saw Jungkook again, once you felt his presence again, the pull was even stronger and the storm was even more intense and the worst part was that you didn’t want to leave.

You heard Jungkook’s soft, silvery voice through the gray rain.

“Why are you blaming yourself for shit that hasn’t even happened yet?”

You turned your head to look into those pleading brown eyes.

Lightning shot across the sky.

Thunder followed seconds after, eating up the night.

“W… What?”

He shook his head, dripping water.

“You haven’t hurt me. You don’t mean to, either.”

That smile, his hand extended, the inked snake on his wrist showing.

You stared at Jeon Jungkook with droplets beading on your skin but those goosebumps weren’t from the weather. Jerked your head away. What is with this gentleness? How could he know anything? He couldn’t know anything. He was just an airhead who watched too many dramas and made others believe that they could be real.

“Noona?”

You whipped your head to Jungkook, shocked at his use of the honorific. He only used it when Jimin was at the meal. Afterwards, the conversations had been clearly directed at you. Not completely informal speech, but sometimes you slipped and he did too. You never corrected him because, well.

You slapped his hand away.

Nothing was going to happen.

You closed the distance and grabbed his head, pressing your lips to his shaking ones.

It was going to be terrible. Cold. Wet. Acidic from the lingering feelings. There was no way that this kiss could be anything else with this setting.

This was real life.

Not a story.

Your hands cupped his cheeks and you sunk into his kiss. The hard edge of his jewelry and the softness of his breath, caught by your mouth, your eyes already screwed shut, nothing to do but feel, feel the way he instantly pressed back and set his hands on your elbows, pulling you closer, shuddering as your forearms pressed to his chest. A weird feeling, like two fires melting together, prickling racing across your skin, no, deeper, past your ribs and into your heart.

The storm raged on.

You snapped out of the kiss, nose to nose, water trickling in places it shouldn’t, over your eyelashes and down your neck, feeling fingers graze across your elbows. Slipping under the leather. Droplets soaking into your shirt and then warm hands lingering at the curve of your exposed waist.

Tracing your lines.

“Fuck,” you muttered.

And you kissed Jeon Jungkook again.

saturday.

No, you didn’t take him home. You’re reckless, yeah.

But you knew how that would go.

Not that Jungkook didn’t try. Maybe you would have done it, if you weren’t the equivalent of wet cat and equally torrenting emotions. His hands around your waist, pulling you closer, heat blossoming between layers of rain-drenched clothing, kiss after kiss, your hands in his hair, tangling those dark waves into wilderness, getting more and more breathless, heady with a feeling you knew but didn’t want to believe in.

For someone who hated lying, you sure enjoyed lying to yourself.

You had reasons.

How could this time be different if it was just following the same trajectory that you always followed?

You had to pry yourself from him, lips tingling, tongue curling, feeling your blood course through your veins and your heartbeat as loud as thunder, opening your eyes to his blissed-out expression, his own eyes still closed, pressing his lips together to savor your taste.

Damn.

You had wanted to tell him to stop it, stop it with all this falling, you were being dragged down by his vibe, clothes feeling heavy, desperate to be stripped away, but you kept your hands along the sides of his head, your exhale escaping but giving you away like a bad con artist.

Those shimmering dark eyes had opened, following Jungkook’s smile.

“You’re a great kisser, noona.”

His hands stayed on your waist, drumming his fingertips on your skin, tangible kisses creating invisible but no less real electricity.

You scoffed, corner of your lips rising.

“Shut up.”

Tendrils of his black-brown hair clung to his forehead. The rain drummed but it had lessened a bit. You had looked back to his eyes, defeated.

“Shut up so I don’t miss you more.”

One last, drawn-out kiss, tongue to tongue and you had broken from him, warning him sternly.

“Don’t follow me.”

Ran all the way home, face burning, not even feeling the rain even though it was still falling.

Now, present time, you sat at this boring farewell party in some fancy hotel with the sun blaring outside. Figures the nice weather would come out when you would have to stuff yourself in a fitted blazer dress and pretend to care about your boss’s boss retiring. Black, of course. For the formal occasion. Sadly, no one was dying except this old coot’s career.

Maybe you were a little salty that you couldn’t retire yet.

You looked down at your phone, which was on silent, noticing you had a new message.

ㅎ.ㅎ

O… Okay. Whatever that face was supposed to mean. You didn’t even bother to answer. Couldn’t, anyway, forced to plaster on a mildly interested expression as your boss gave a speech that you zoned out of. There were multiple large circular tables in the hotel ballroom. Outside the ballroom was an outdoor area with the buffet. Everyone had served themselves before sitting down, but, first, a few words.

A few was turning out to be too many and your salmon was getting cold.

Employees had been allowed to bring plus ones. Wives and husbands. There were a few empty seats, and a few significant others popped in mid-speech, trying to be quiet and politely bowing in apology. Of course, they weren’t required to be on time, having other obligations and such.

You twitched.

Was that why this was dragging on? So everyone could eat at once? For fuck’s sake, who cared if they were late. Then you noticed your boss’s wife stepping in, looking pretty and put-together in a forest green high-necked dress, holding the small hand of a kid in a lopsided children’s tuxedo with an equally confused expression.

Oh.

Come on.

You suddenly felt a disturbance in the Force.

“Excuse me. Sorry, sorry.”

You whipped your head around to see Jeon Jungkook in a black pinstripe suit cha-cha sliding in the empty chair next to you, picking up your black velvet purse and holding it out to you with a grin that made his large, dark brown eyes light up.

You gawked at him.

“Hey. Sorry I’m late.” He added your name politely and with affection, smooth as butter, criminal undercover. Even the honorific, oh, shit.

The blood drained out of your face and you tried not to think about how your co-workers sitting at the table were staring at you and him like you both had three heads. Of course, no one was supposed to be talking, so no one asked questions yet, but that was definitely going to start the second your boss was finished with his sentence.

You took your purse without another word and glared at Jungkook with such fire that you hoped he burned alive at the spot. Oh, this could turn into a murder and a funeral real fucking fast. All he did was give you those shining big peepers that made you want to strangle him. In an unsexy way.

For now.

You leaned over as the clapping started. He caught on and delicately leaned over, offering his ear to your lips.

“The fuck are you doing?”

Jungkook turned his head so only you could hear his whisper.

“I was nearby, so I figured…?”

You stared at him, plumb slack-jawed at this audacity.

He closed the distance and gently kissed your cheek. You ticked your head almost robotically, piercing eyes following his playful ones, and now you wondered if Jeon Jungkook was truly not right in the head or perfect for you.

Well.

You weren’t right in the head either.

You did text him earlier this morning that you needed to come to this party at this hotel to send off this important retiree. If you missed this, then it would have reflected poorly on you, especially when you wanted to keep your job, so, yes, it was part of the reason why you had not attempted to convince Jungkook to sleep over – not that he needed any convincing whatsoever – and the other reason was to get enough sleep so you could tolerate socializing. Did you think Jungkook was gonna finesse his way into the seat next to you? Hell no. Did you think he was gonna dress smartly and with his black hair parted neatly in the center, fuckin’ black tie pressed and collar pinned? Fuck, no.

Did you think you would like it?

No!

“How did you get them to let you in?” you hissed under your breath.

Jungkook was clapping like a seal because everyone else was. A champagne bottle was being popped. He looked systematically impressed and awed. Amazing acting. “I just said I was with you.” Glanced at you and grinned, the silver piercings on his lip gleaming. A hoop and a stud. “Aren’t I, noona?”

The urge to growl at him to shut the fuck up was silenced by your brain reminding you to be safe-for-work.

You felt a poke at your sleeve. Your co-worker sitting at your left, bleach-blond and with the curiosity of a child. Full of sudden comments and questions too, just like a kid.

“Oh, oh! You never mentioned anything about a boyfriend!” Because you didn’t have one until right now, apparently. “So handsome!” Yes, he was. You had taste. “How did you meet?” Circumstances beyond your control.

“Through a… friend.”

That was a very generous word for instigator Park Jimin.

Jungkook poked his head past you and waved. “Hi! Nice to meet you.” He was using you as a shield to avoid directly interacting with these people he didn’t know. Just chiming in with polite nods as you introduced him to the table and sitting back to let you have this uninvited spotlight that was burning you like the sun did to vampires.

Pretty close, in all honesty.

“Aw, what a sweet guy. It’s nice to meet you too. I didn’t think your type was so young and cute.”

You almost made a face of distaste. “You thought my type was old and ugly?” Oop, there goes your sharp tongue.

“Nooo.” You tried not to flinch at the playful slap of your arm. “More mature, maybe? But this is better. You don’t have to be so serious. Look at his smile! I bet that’s what drew you in.”

You glanced at Jungkook and he appropriately smiled big at the right time. Somehow, he had obtained a plate of steak. How, you didn’t care. You narrowed your eyes just a sliver. Jungkook did not stop smiling but there was at least an iota of fear in those big brown eyes. Speaking of vampire, maybe you should suck the life out of him because he was being too fuckin’ much.

“Well, he was persistent to put it lightly. Might as well give him the chance to win me over.”

Jungkook beamed like a billion-kilowatt lightbulb. Or a crystal chandelier. It depended if you wanted to say the light came from his white teeth or sparkling eyeballs.

Fuckity fuck.

You wanted to rub your temples but refrained.

You would never recover from this.

“Are you mad at me?” Jungkook asked you later.

Oh, now he wondered if you’re mad. You didn’t even look at him, dragging him away from the crowd by the elbow. Hopefully you had stayed long enough but there had been so many of the same questions that you were either getting dizzy or murderous. Hm. Why not both?

“I’m not mad at you,” you muttered.

“You kinda sound mad.”

“I’m not mad but I’m gonna get mad if you keep saying I am,” you warned. “Don’t start a self-fulfilling prophecy.”

“A what?”

“Where did you park?”

His voice became small even though he was right next to you. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

The sun was blaring down on the open parking lot, it was annoyingly humid, you were socially drained, and this, not this. You spun abruptly, too much crashing down too fast, flinging Jungkook’s arm from you.

“No,” you hissed out. “No. Don’t you dare take it back. You wanna be crazy and drive me crazy, fine, do it, keep doing it, don’t stop, but own up. I’ve got enough push-and-pull jammed into my head and I don’t need you adding to it.”

It was so easy to simply give in to the rising anger, but you found yourself locked into Jungkook’s wide, taken-back eyes, drowning in them, deeper than the ocean, seeing how rueful he was.

“Don’t do that to me,” you sighed.

At least your voice didn’t crack. You didn’t want to be angry anyway.

You raised your hand to cup his cheek but paused, not knowing anymore what was what. Always been so sure until the world started getting flipped upside down by Jeon Jungkook. You always knew all of the things to do to make someone interested, all the things to say to make them swoon, and now you didn’t know anything at all because this guy showed up and jumped right in, not even caring about the damages, the fine print, or the past that lingered.

Why are you blaming yourself for shit that hasn’t even happened yet?

Jungkook leaned forward and completed the curve of his cheek into your hollow palm, now looking at you eye-to-eye with a curious expression.

The corner of your lips curved upwards.

You leaned forward, saying your next words very seriously.

“You. Are. Crazy.”

sunday.

You sat against the window, waiting for the document to print out.

No one was in the office. You had rolled over here out of sheer boredom, looking up at the gray-blue sky and watching shafts of sunlight phase in and out. Overtime to prepare documents for Monday. You hadn’t bothered to follow dress code, but there was a breeze today, so you wore brown plaid trousers and an old vintage t-shirt with the sleeves cut off. The faded album cover of Papa Roach’s Infest. Your oversized black leather jacket was on the back of your office chair once again.

You spun in your chair, the print job long done.

Thought back on the week.

Day one, awkward dinner and the start of a rollercoaster.

Day two, clutching your phone and waiting for replies due to the spotty service of the subway.

Day three, washing machines and dryers and long conversations.

Day four, shitty day with a nice ending to more texts. Better service too.

Day five, cold rain and warm lips.

Day six, surprise! You have a boyfriend and everybody knows!

You got up and wandered to the copier. Stacked everything up and clipped the right parts together, setting it on your boss’s desk. Glanced at the time at your computer. The blank screensaver abruptly appeared, showing you your blurred reflection.

Your fingertips lingered on your chest, the soft, worn fabric of the shirt reminding you of night after tumultuous night of the past. Time that made you, you. Scars you made by holding on too tightly to pain others gave you. The thought of scars in others that you started and they held on to. Repenting, in a way, healing the hearts that came in your path with intimacy and the passion you were afraid to show Jeon Jungkook because what if, what if…

What if it actually matched well?

“You,” Park Jimin had said to you months ago, “You need someone who thinks of you as their whole world.”

“I don’t want that.”

“You don’t want it. But you need it.”

You didn’t have Park-Jimin-being-right on this year’s bingo card, fuck.

You clocked out and collected your stuff, turning off the lights as you left the office, black boots the only solid sound around you, pulling out your phone to check the address one more time.

“Why are you wearing clothes?” you asked accusingly.

“Um…?”

You gripped the sides of the denim jacket and yanked it off his shoulders, pinning Jeon Jungkook’s arms to his sides. He immediately yelped but you silenced him by stepping through the door and pulling him to you by the button placket, tracing the edge of his open lips with your tongue.

“W-Wait, noona, the d-door…”

“I don’t care.”

Kissed him, deeply.

That now familiar scent, closer, slipping your tongue between his lips, succumbing to the flutters. In, out, feeling him collapse under you and moan in his throat, hard body stumbling into yours, hand haphazardly smacking the edge of the door.

It closed behind you.

You rolled your body into his, closer than close with too many layers in between, tangling his arms in his own jacket, swallowing his gasp and feeling him wiggle determinedly to free his hands and then they were on your face, strong fingers fanning out over your jaw, his jacket falling to the floor, hungrily following your tongue and lips with his own.

Something addicting about the addition of metal to those soft mouth.

This was your forte, the ability to make fantasies come true, and you took it seriously, throwing your bag onto the table by the door and shedding the protective layer of leather. Pressed chest to chest, holding his head and tracing his lips, slow fucking them, running your fingertips over the curve of his ears and making him shiver, noting the three hoops along his left ear.

Pressed your hands down his chest, over the smooth ribbed white tank molding to his muscular torso, down, down, kissing past his lips, to that mole underneath, down his chin, his head tipping back, your name drifting above your head as you kissed down his neck, the sharp clean scent of his cologne getting stronger.

“I thought… we were… o-oh, g-going out…”

“I’m gonna fuck you,” you breathed into his collarbones, hot and low, nicking his skin with your teeth and making him shiver. “Right now. Tonight. Maybe tomorrow too.” Undid the button of his jeans with some effort, yanking him towards you again and molding your hips to his, thighs to hard thighs, and that stiffness wasn’t only a sturdy zipper. “Tuesday as well. Fuck it.”

“The whole week,” Jungkook gasped as you unzipped his charcoal jeans.

“Yeah, good, you’re keeping up,” you murmured and grabbed his head again, catching a fistful of his black hair, kissing him hard with your other palm pressed to his hardness. Your tongue tracing the edge of his lips, breathing into his mouth and swallowing Jungkook’s wanton moan, intoxicated by the moment.

You pulled back just to yank your shirt over your head, tossing it to the floor.

It took longer for it to float down than for you to get on your knees.

“Woah…!”

Hooked your fingers on the elastic waistband of his Calvin Kleins and tugged them down, exhaling over that thick length that popped out. He smelled clean, like he had just showered, and you half-smiled, approving, closing the distance to curl your tongue around hard taut skin.

“Ooooh… fuuuuuuuck…”

Tightly taking control, using only your tongue to scoop around his girth and flick against his balls. Kisses, licks, flutters of breath, all of it, sensation after sensation, layering on the heat, adding sweetness to the obscene, his twitching cock hitting your cheek as you pressed kisses to his balls.

“Let me show you something,” you hummed and swallowed his pride.

Jungkook gasped so loud that his hands shot up to his mouth, fingers laced over his moan, one inked arm and one tan one, tilting his head back as your lips closed around him, softly, your tongue cupping the head, caressing the underside, the slit, letting him throb against wet muscle. Pushed him up to the roof of your mouth and slowly, in and out, rubbing the base of the head against your lips every time you ascended, fanning your fingers over his crotch to hold the base and cup his balls in between your index and thumb. Steady and consistent, sucking him off with deliberate precision.

You had a lot of fancy skills to show off but, for this first time, might as well give him the stripped-down version.

Heh.

So you blew Jungkook at his front door in your bra and pants with his clothes half-on and struggling to breathe.

“A-Ah, so s-soft… and so tight… h-how…”

You didn’t speed up. Didn’t put in more force. Used your whole torso, not just your head and neck, to avoid strain, holding his hips to take him deeper but at the same pace, letting the orgasm build with his heart rate, running your thumbs over his balls, a gentle caress, closing your eyes to savor it. Hard and twitching, but you didn’t let him disturb what you had going on, extending out the minutes, saturating every second with flowing, unavoidable bliss.

What?

You could match his vibe with your kind of romance.

You heard Jungkook’s pitch hike and the muscles under your fingers all tensed up. You spared a look upwards, but he wasn’t looking at you, shoving his hands into his messy black hair, displaying his prominent triceps, and moaning to the ceiling, dragging his bangs over his eyes.

“Oh my God, I’m cumming, fuuuuck…!”

You pillowed your tongue around the head and his salty orgasm flooded your mouth, spilling out and down your throat, but you cupped what you could and coated the sensitive head, pleased to hear Jungkook’s shudder and whimper of ecstasy, gripping his hair and pulling. The close-fitted nature of his tank top left nothing to the imagination, the aftershock rippling up his chest, even his hardened nipples poking against the fabric.

You swallowed.

Jungkook moaned and his head fell back again, his eyes probably rolled back.

Gotta finish him off right.

You licked around him carefully, cleaning him off and keeping him hard.

“You…”

Cocked an eyebrow as you shifted your eyes up, his cock buried in your throat, pulsing your muscles around his length. His chin was on his chest, wayward dark curls hanging down, shaking wide eyes watching you with fascination, his shaking voice full of awe.

“You know… how porn calls it a mouth-pussy? I really thought that shit was fake and sounded stupid, but… you have a mouth-pussy.”

You blinked at him and tried not to snort out in laughter.

You just raised both eyebrows and flicked his balls with your tongue. A few seconds later, you pulled back and countered with, “Really? Mouth-pussy? That’s how you show gratitude for the best suck of your life?”

“B-But it’s true!”

You shook you head and waved a hand at him.

“Clothes. Off.”

Every hour, every minute, every second.

Full of sex.

Jungkook wasn’t lying. He wasn’t a virgin. He was a little too good at fingering to be a virgin. Well, you hadn’t had his dick yet but it was pretty obvious with the slow circles on your clit and the kissing of your collarbones. Clothes didn’t even make it to the bedroom. Most of them were left by the door. Your shoulder blades and ass touching the bed, his other hand along your back and tracing your spine as he kissed across your breasts, shyly shifting his gaze back to your face to constantly check if you were enjoying it, not quite confident that he was making your heart flutter. You smirked back at him, taking his hand and pressing his fingers to your wet slit, pushing them in yourself.

He breathed out with you, watching your face as the pleasure snaked out from your core.

Two of them, taking it slow, but you shook your head and pressed his down, your hard nipple against his lips, and he followed your lead, faster, harder, your inner walls clenching around him, sighing deeply as the pleasure flowed, soft licks and tracing tongue. You let him have it, the slower, more romantic pace, spreading your fingers over his sheets and thrusting into his hand, adding to the pleasure, and Jungkook’s eyes glittered, kissing from one nipple to another with a smile.

“Harder?”

“And faster,” you agreed, licking the air between you and him.

Hey, you weren’t a virgin either and you liked it rough.

He kissed you first, entranced by your tongue, harder, faster, your hips following his hand, entangled in this beat, and then it was back to your nipples, kissing sucking, sparks of sensuality over your skin, your hands diving into his hair. Heat. Roughness. Passion, catching your breath and your head falling back, inhaling his scent and the clean sheets, the orgasm flooding through you, delicately forming his name with your lips.

“Ah, Jungkook…”

You didn’t let it stop there though.

His hand moved to pull out and you clutched his wrist and pushed him back in, your nail catching his ring finger, collecting it too, gasping at the added fullness, and you pulled his left hand out from under your back.

Jungkook watched you curiously as your rode his right hand and turned his left, thumb down.

You fitted it around your neck and positioned it correctly, grinning devilishly at him.

He got the hint.

Slightly unsure at first but you built his confidence, comfortably laying back on his bed and spreading out your fingers, moaning softly for him, rocking your hips into his hand, climbing to the high again, stronger his time. His fingers pressed inwards and you breathed out, savoring the choking, the way time slowed down, the way the sensations heightened, your spine arching, low gasp like heavy smoke, immortalizing the moment in his memory, black pupils blown out in those beautiful dark eyes, leaning forward to run his tongue over your nipples.

Your fingers curled into the sheets, thrusting into his fingers harder.

Lids heavy, drowning in the pleasure, his tongue, his hands, the way he looked at you like you were his whole world, the tension between you and him, sweet and intense and overwhelming, just perfect, your exhale only a thin wisp now, closing your eyes and moaning to the ceiling as you came.

It was a hard, thundering pulse, much more powerful than before, your shivering pussy gripping his fingers and your hips bucking. Thighs snapping closed, whining as you felt the hardness of his tattooed forearm, your head snapping to the side the second he released you, the rushing blood knocking you down and making your nerves sing, strong flinches across your arms and torso. Gasping to catch your breath.

Wasn’t his first time choking, but maybe the first time he got really turned on by it, because Jungkook was ogling you like a three-star Michelin meal.

It was like that all night.

From the first time he entered you, one condom wrapper the start of many, biting the left side of his lip and shuddering – “H-How are you so tight…? I just f-fingered you – oooh!” – and you wrapped around him tightly, smirking a little too smugly, one arm around his neck and one leg on his shoulder. Your fingers petaled around the base of his head, cupping him in the flower of your touch. Your thigh against his hard chest still trembling from your kisses. You angled your hips and he slipped in deeper, groaning in disbelief, his brows furrowing at you.

“H-Hey!”

Your tongue pocketed in the side of your smirk and you fucked him right.

“Gah!”

Jungkook, too, fucked you right.

You lead the pace so he could bring the force of his hips. Ah, fuck, right there, like that, and you let him know, the cries tumbling out and mixing with his, rushing wave after wave pressing into you, filling you with his girth and his power. You brought the intensity, the flint to his flame, the break in his pride and Jungkook was looking down at you, shoulders flexed, jaw tight and eyes hazy, clear emotion swirling within them and you saw your own gaze fixated on him, wanting him more than you wanted the sex.

Oh.

Shit.

You gasped and dug your nails into his scalp, grasping the pillow and throwing your head back, not expecting the suddenness of your high, injected into your heartbeat and pushing all the air out of your lungs, veins ablaze with heat as your core clenched, inner walls throbbing all around him. Jungkook groaned, biting his lower lip and thrusting hard, the small mole underneath shaking just as hard as his shoulders, but he couldn’t hold back any longer, squeezing his eyes shut, muffled scream as he came, his head falling back, two tones the start of an ongoing, wanton melody.

“Holy… fuck…”

Well, more like unholy fuck but you didn’t correct him.

You kind of expected him to pull out and leave, but instead his head snapped back and he dived down, catching your lips and dripping sweat on you, making you both laugh. Kiss after kiss, all over your face, and you could barely sputter out – “Oi, you’re sweaty!” – but he didn’t care, kissing all over your cheeks and down your neck, your chest, slurping at your nipples, you narrowed your eyes at that but those playful eyes just sparkled with deviousness, trailing down, down.

Slowing.

Jungkook pressed his lips to your waist, looking up at you.

Your heart thundered against your chest and sparks danced over your skin.

Somehow at ease.

“What?”

You smiled down at him.

“I don’t ever want to leave your side.”

Your lips parted to give him a snappy comeback, yeah, well, I gotta go to work, but nothing came out.

Jungkook grinned, his whole face lighting up and dove between your legs, biting and kissing the inside of your thighs, attacking them with his menacing mouth.

“Hey! Oi! I’m sensitive, f-fuck!”

Even planting a fat wet kiss on your clit for good measure.

“Ah!”

Shoving his tongue in your pussy.

“YO!”

You gawked at his audacity, twisting away from him. Infuriatingly, he followed, scrambling for your ass.

“There was just a condom in there!”

“Ah, who cares,” said the one that clearly didn’t. “Kiss me.”

“Hell no!”

After cleaning up and pinning him down on his own bed and thoroughly scolding him, somehow you ended up making out with Jungkook and his fingers were in your pussy again. It sounded very wet and squishy down there, probably because you showed Jungkook just now much you liked kisses under your earlobe. His tongue against your skin, teeth nicking, sucking hard and making you moan and grind on his hand, pressing against his chest.

“Sit on my face,” he whispered in your ear.

Which was know you ended up grasping his headboard and his tongue between your legs, the piercing pressed against the left side of the outer lips. You kept your weight on your knees, but Jungkook grabbed your ass and tipped your hips at a different angle, your clit right on his tongue, his nose against your crotch.

“Fuuuuck, you smell so good…”

You could barely hear him but you felt him speak, gasping at the strange sensation of hot breath and swiping tongue, his lips wrapping around your most sensitive nerves. He had a much softer tongue, but there was consistency there and plenty of gusto. It helped, actually, to have his hands gripping your thighs, adding the amplifying pleasure of restraint. You rode his face, matching the movement of his tongue. One of your hands left the headboard. Trapped your nipples between your fingers and pulled at them, making Jungkook’s eyes go wide and watch eagerly, licking and sucking harder.

Layered and intricate, full of sensation and emotion, gazing down at him and smirking as the sparks turned into lightning and you soaked his face, shivering, tipping forward at the flinches of climax, swearing under your thin breath, panting, snapped tension draining you and wetly sticking to his lips, his tongue, his cheeks.

He shoved his tongue into your quivering pussy and you sucked in a breath, feeling your inner walls pulsate around his curling muscle, his low, gravelly moan filling what little air there was between his mouth and you, his satisfaction vibrating through your body and mixing with your afterglow.

You slid down his chest and kissed him again, tasting your subtle sweet-sour on his slick lips.

He wanted you to jack him off hard and fast, the fingers of your other hand splayed out over his chest, forgetting about anything else, time only a construct, your phones discarded by the door, and here, in this bed, there was only Jungkook and you, his cock pulsing in your grip, your foxy expression to his desperate one, his eyes rolling back in the intensity, biting down hard on the left side of his lip, the small mole underneath shaking in anticipation, the tendons of his neck popping out.

You raised your free hand and gently stroked his cheek with your knuckle as you punished his cock.

His lower lip popped out of his mouth and he groaned, rough and breathless.

“A-Ah, fuck!”

A hot stream of liquid dripping down the back of your hand, drenching you and him in the strong scent of sex. Thick and potent, and you leaned forward and kissed him deeply, tightly holding his jerking cock and squeezing it all out of him.

“You’re amazing,” Jungkook panted, even after getting up – once again – to attempt to clean up your collective mess.

“Mhm,” you hummed, sitting beside him. He was radiating heat. “I was never worried about that.”

“Hah… You’re… You’re crazy…”

You had obtained your phone and just now sent a message to your boss that you would be taking a sick day on Monday. You have plenty of those. “Speak for yourself.”

“I mean, you’re like… um… uh, oh! A semen demon…”

“What?”

You almost threw your phone in laughter. Actually, you couldn’t even hear Jungkook’s explanation for what the hell he meant by semen demon because you were laughing too hard, barely able to breathe. There wasn’t a normal explanation anyway – how could there be? – and you kept inelegantly snorting afterward at inappropriate times. Jungkook, for his part, seemed proud for making you laugh so much.

“You look so beautiful laughing.”

Your response was quick, immediate, and lighthearted.

“Shut up.”

He snuggled his still too warm head into the crook of your shoulder.

“Will you stay?”

You gave him a look and then showed him the sent text message on your phone. There was something special and perfect about the smile that lit up his face, clearly showing his devotion and clearly seeing yours.

“Yeah, I’ll stay.”

Jungkook skipped work too. Both of you ended up sleeping in.

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #bts smut #jungkook x you #jungkook x noona #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you

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sajidhaji · 2 years

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starkeyisthelastname · 3 months

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dealer!rafe who takes you on a weekend away in Charleston, with lots of shopping, fine dining and good dick 👅💦

He had some business to attend to and taking your pretty little self on a weekend get away was just what he needed. He had a meeting with a potential client about a big supply of cocaine, and wanted to check him out before making a final decision. He had ordered you room service, and told you to get ready while he was gone. Of course he was going to spoil the fuck out of your pretty self.

It was a full afternoon when he got back of shopping at high-end stores, while Rafe paid for everything in cash. It boosted his already high ego to be able to buy you thousand-dollar purses, expensive diamonds, and whatever else your gorgeous heart desired with his drug money. He loved knowing that people were envious of him being so young and having the kind of money he did. He then would take you to dinner, letting you get tipsy off glasses of Dom Perigon and letting you enjoy the taste of steak and lobster.

What really made his night was when he got you back to the hotel room, your shiny gold anklet dangling about as he had your legs over his shoulders giving you the pipe. He was real deep, thrusts brutal while he stretched your soaked hole out. Your whines were loud, his length filling you up with each hard move to your gut, while he grunted above you. His diamond chain glistened around his damp neck, blue eyes staring down at you as he was always amazed how good you could take his dick.

“That’s it pretty mama, you like that shit deep don’t you?” Rafe’s voice drawled out, watching your beautiful face change as he hit deep up in your wetness. You felt fucking amazing, cunt wrapped around him tightly as you soaked his dick with your sweet juice. It was such an amazing sight, watching you come undone, especially when he started saying some real dirty shit.

“Lemme see that pretty fuckin face while I fuck the shit out of you.” Rafe rasped, his tone serious enough to know he wasn’t playing around. He leaned down, his facial hair tickling you as he captured your lips in a sloppy kiss. Your glittery acrylics dug into his massive frame, moaning against his mouth as you felt your stomach tighten.

“Daddy.. fuck me..” You whined, the feeling too good for him to stop. You knew you were about to cum, but just wanted rounds and rounds with this insanely sexy man.

Rafe groaned lowly at your words of encouragement, his lips traveling down to your neck as his thick biceps easily picked you up with his dick still deep inside you. You gasped as he stood up straight now in his arms as he began bouncing you on his fat length. His insane glute and quad muscles were able to hold you tightly against him, all while digging his blunt nails into your fleshy thighs. You were forced to look at his handsome face just as you were about to make a mess, exactly like he wanted you too.

“Yeah there you go ma.. keep those fuckin beautiful eyes on me while you cum all over my fuckin dick.” Rafe mumbled against your glossy lips as you began to squirt all over his lower abs with one last thrust to your wet ass pussy.

#rafe cameron #dealer!rafe #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron prompt #rafe cameron blurb #rafe outer banks #rafe concepts #outerbanks rafe #obx #obx smut #outer banks

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grandlinedreams · 1 year

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“What,” Mihawk begins, “is that.”

It’s not so much a question as a demand for an answer and even with as mild as his tone is, you still have to take a moment to find your confidence again, adjusting your grip on the object in question.

“A kitten,” you answer. The kitten in question is little more than a mess of jet black fur and a pair of small, pointed ears that dangles limply in your hold, mewing as Mihawk stares at it. “He kind of looks like you, doesn’t he?”

Mihawk’s eyes narrow a fraction. True, the kitten is black like his hair, and the pair of eyes that peer at him are round and the same shade of gold as his own – but that, in his opinion, is where the similarities stop. “Hardly.”

“Hardly,” you echo, pitching your tone deeper in playful mockery as you bring the kitten closer to your chest, scratching underneath his chin until he starts purring. “Don’t be so grumpy.”

“I am not grumpy.”

You kiss the top of the kitten’s head, humming at the tickle of soft fur against your lips. “Says you.” The kitten mews in agreement – not so much at your words, but at the attention you’re currently giving him.

“Where did you find it?”

“Him,” you correct.

Mihawk stares at you and were it not undoubtedly beneath him, he’d roll his eyes at your persistence. “Where did you find him,” he amends, and you grin. Mihawk looks less than amused. “I hope you weren’t wandering around again. The humandrills–”

“Are friendly,” you cut in, “and I can handle myself. You know that. And besides, it gets lonely when you’re off doing who knows what.” You really don’t know what he gets up to when he leaves Kuraigana, only that he’s unscathed every time and recounts (undoubtedly heavily edited) events with an ever present air of boredom in his voice when you ask. “But to answer your question, I don’t know how he even survived long enough to end up here, but he was out near the shore.” You snuggle the little kitten to your face again. “Poor thing almost died.”

For a moment, Mihawk wonders if he should fancy himself jealous of how much attention the cat is getting from you, but that’s beneath him too – besides, he’s the one that you sleep next to at night.

“I’m keeping him,” you say and Mihawk watches you, head tilting as he arches an eyebrow in question.

“You are?”

“Yes,” you answer firmly, and the kitten offers his own opinion in the form of an indignant mewl, followed by a yawn of tiny, sharp white teeth and brief glimpse of a pink tongue before he tucks himself against you.

Mihawk sighs. “Very well. But he is not sleeping in the bedroom with us.”

(The kitten does, in fact, end up sleeping in your shared bedroom. And Mihawk decides that yes, even if it’s just a little bit, he is indeed jealous of that tiny kitten.)

#ㅡmine.#one piece x reader #one piece scenario #dracule mihawk x reader #mihawk x reader #–ml: mihawk.

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teapartyprincess4two · 6 months

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Can you make a Latina reader x Matt sturniolo smut? You can make it up how you want it

Lipstick- M. Sturniolo

pairing: Thick!Latina!reader x Boyfriend!Matt

classification: fluff, smut

inspiration: request^^

translations: embedded within the story!

warnings: 18+, MDNI, literal sex, use of Spanish, Hispanic/ Latino culture mentioned, established relationship, slight cursing, traditional parents, mentions of alcohol, didn’t name any of the side characters, long

summary: Matt’s nervous to meet your family, but after making a good impression you treat him to a night full of kisses and lipstick stains.

—

Matt sits in the living room, nervous hands playing with the keys that hang from his belt loop. Your mother keeps him company, sitting on the sofa across from him as she asks him a plethora of personal and uncomfortable questions. Latina mothers are unashamed to prod into the personal life of others, especially when meeting their daughter’s boyfriend for the first time.

You’ve only been dating Matt for a couple of months, and although he seems like a nice kid, she’s not entirely sure she can trust your judgment just yet. The few boys you’ve brought home before haven’t always necessarily met her high standards. Matt hasn’t done anything to throw her off yet, but she’s sure she’ll find something to dislike. If he manages to stick around long enough, though, he’d surely grow on her.

“So what do you do for work?” your mom asks, momentarily looking up from her latest costura project to catch Matt’s anxious gaze. She expertly weaves the string in and out of the white lace, forming an intricate floral design in the process.

[translation: costura- sewing]

“Oh um… my brothers and I we make YouTube videos,” Matt doesn’t know where to look, he’s afraid to make eye contact but also afraid that if he doesn’t it’ll come off as disrespectful. He’s never been so nervous in his life, and from the look on your mother’s face he can tell that that’s probably not what she wanted to hear.

Your mother scoffs, obviously unimpressed with his answer. “Esta niña, siempre saliendo con los más huevones,” she turns her head towards the stairs. Matt’s been waiting for you to descend for over 30 minutes, and the awkward tension was even becoming too much for her.

[translation: “This girl, always going out with the laziest ones.”]

Matt coughs, taking a quick swig of the water bottle in front of him. He’s nervous, his hands are clammy and he has no idea what your mom just said. What was taking you so long?

“So is YouTube gonna pay the bills?” your mom was abrasive and she knew it, but she couldn’t help it. In her eyes, nobody was worthy enough of her babygirl. Matt remains silent, he doesn’t even know what to say, so she continues, “You know, when you two start having kids.”

The thought of having children at 20 years old terrifies Matt beyond belief, he can feel his hands getting clammier by the second. He understands that it’s a cultural dissonance, though, so he keeps his mouth shut. “We’re not planning on any kids soon, ma’am. We haven’t— Um, we haven’t really talked about it,” his voice trembles slightly, your mom was doing a good job of intimidating him.

Matt takes another swig of his water, his mouth was dry and he felt like his throat was closing up. “Oh, but you’re having sex with my daughter right?” the question is so unapologetically bold that it causes Matt to choke on the liquid, some of it managing to dribble down his chin.

“I’m sorry?” he chokes out, but he heard your mom loud and clear.

Finally, as if on queue, Matt hears footsteps coming down the steps. ‘Finally!’ he thinks, watching as your curvy figure rounds the staircase and enters the living room. Matt shoots up from his spot on the couch, his eyes immediately dancing over your entire body.

You’re wearing a fitted, black bodycon dress that reaches just above your knees. The spaghetti straps work to hold your bust in place, a gold necklace dangling delicately above the curves of your breasts. You push your freshly curled hair onto your shoulders, luscious locks framing your face perfectly. White lace-up sneakers adorn your feet, your ankle bracelet glimmering as you walk into the living room.

Matt can’t keep his eyes off of, every aspect of your being pulling him in and putting him in a trance. Your mom notices Matt’s inability to hide his attraction for you, “her eyes are up here!” His face goes beet red, eyes immediately darting up to your face.

You roll your eyes before sending Matt an apologetic smile, “Ya nos vamos, Ma.”

[translation: “We’re leaving, Ma.”]

“Bueno, mi niña. Pórtate bien,” she warns, bringing you in for a strong, warm embrace. Your mom’s change in behavior is so quick it gives Matt whiplash, but he can’t blame her for being standoffish with him. He understands that it’s her mother bear nature.

[translation: “Okay, babygirl. Be good.”]

You kiss your mom on the cheek, your red lipstick staining her face. You turn to Matt with a big, toothy smile sprawled onto your face. “You ready?” you ask, taking his hand in yours as you guide him outside. He nods and hums in response, squeezing your hand as he trails behind you in a lovesick daze. Your ass jiggles with each step and Matt wonders how he ever got so lucky.

“Sorry for taking so long,” you apologize once you’re in the car, getting situated in the passenger seat. “No problem. You look really beautiful,” he replies, starting the car and doing another once over on your body. You lean over the center console with puckered lips, “kiss?” He happily obliges, your red lipstick instantly transferring onto him. His pants are becoming tighter by the second and you notice it right away. Your relationship is still in its infancy, so even this has you blushing.

“Was my mom nice?”

“Mm yeah, some like that,” he replies with a chuckle, adjusting his pants and beginning the drive to your destination. You know he’s lying, but you’re grateful that he’s courteous enough to put up with your mom’s attitude.

“Just wait till you meet my dad and my siblings. They’re not as bad,” you say, the hum of the car engine and the low music in the background creating a calm atmosphere.

“Can’t wait,” he laughs, and although he’s nervous for when that day finally comes, he’s actually excited to become a constant presence in your life. It might be too early to say it, but he’s definitely falling in love with you, the tent in his pants making it obvious as ever.

—

A year has passed since that day and, as expected, your mom has warmed up to Matt. They aren’t super close yet, but she definitely sees him in a different light. She can tell that he truly cares for you and that what you two share is real, but the real test comes when Matt meets your dad.

Your dad works a lot, the manual labor taking a toll on his body that puts him to sleep as soon as he gets home. So, even if your dad is home when Matt’s around, he’s usually asleep or resting in his room.

Matt was nervous when he met your mom, but he’s TERRIFIED to meet your dad. There are so many factors to take into consideration; the language barrier, the cultural dissonance, the fact that he’s your literal dad! It doesn’t help that your siblings are gonna be there too, all of it makes Matt tremble with unease. But he’s been invited to your family’s cookout so he can no longer postpone it.

It’s a sunny Saturday afternoon. The weather is nice, it’s not too cold or too hot. It’s the perfect day for a cookout, and Matt should feel excited, but he doesn’t. Sweaty hands grip the steering wheel as he anxiously drives to your house. Chris and Nick are being dragged along as moral support, but unlike Matt, they’re not nervous.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have brought you guys. I don’t even think they know I’m a triplet,” Matt’s words are coming out a mile a minute as he places the car in park outside your house. The panic is starting to set, and from the looks of it they’re the first ones here. Usually being on time would make Matt proud, but this just means there will be less people to hide behind.

“Dude, it’s gonna be fine. Plus, maybe Y/n has a cute cousin or something and we can be like brother in laws,” Chris is only half-joking. “Gross,” Nick grimaces, hopping off the car and beginning the short walk to your front door. Chris laughs, copying Nick’s actions and following closely behind.

That just leaves Matt. He’s glued to the front seat, mind racing uncontrollably. If he’s going to do this, it needs to be quick and painless or he’ll just psych himself out. He takes one deep breath in and out, unbuckling himself with such fervor that the seatbelt slaps the door. Once he steps out of the car, he takes a second to anchor himself before jogging to catch up to his brothers, who are already ringing your doorbell.

Three minutes pass and no one has opened the door, so Nick rings the doorbell again. “Allí voy, allí voy!” a voice shouts from inside, the door swinging open aggressively to reveal your little sister.

[translation: “I’m going, I’m going!”]

“Oh it’s just you,” she deadpans, moving aside so they can walk in. She slams the door shut, pushing past the stunned trio until she’s at the foot of the stairs. “Y/n’s upstairs,” she says, waving towards the staircase haphazardly.

“Y/N! YOUR BOYFRIENDS ARE HERE!” she shouts up the stairs, the loud outburst taking the triplets by surprise.

Your sister is a good 4 years younger and the complete opposite of you. She’s a thin tomboy, wearing an outfit so oversized that she’s drowning in fabric. Her style directly resembles Chris’s, chunky sneakers adorning her feet and a backwards hat resting atop her long, curly hair. A long gold chain that she stole from your older brother hangs from her neck, swaying back and forth as she shifts her weight from one foot to the other. Her makeup is nicely done and her glossy lips are resting in a smirk, she loved embarrassing you.

“Stop yelling, pendeja!” you shout back, head peering from your doorway. Your sister shoots you an unbothered shrug, turning on her heels and disappearing into the backyard. You descend the stairs, immediately hugging Matt and planting a fat kiss on his lips. Within seconds his lips are the same color as yours, your cherry lipgloss tasting all too familiar.

[translation: pendeja- dumbass (feminine)]

“You guys are early,” you chuckle, pulling away from Matt to greet the other two. “You can blame Matt for that,” Nick says, the four of you walking outside to the backyard patio. The setup is simple but nice, rows of foldable chairs and tables lining the grassy lawn. Coolers are up against the walls of the house, each one filled to the brim with soda, juice pouches, and alcohol.

As Matt is surveying the area, he sees your dad, or at least he thinks he does. A tall, muscular man is working the grill. His shiny, bald head reflects the sun and his tattoos are on full display past the sleeves of his ribbed cotton tank top.

Matt grabs your hand, pulling you back slightly, “Is that your dad?” His voice is hushed, afraid to be heard accidentally.

You follow his gaze, “What? No. That’s my brother.”

An audible sigh of relief escapes Matt, and you instantly clock it, “Don’t worry, babe. Everyone’s gonna love you.” The reassuring words momentarily calm his nerves.

Your older brother’s boisterous voice breaks the moment, “Y/n, go get the rest of the carne from the kitchen!” He’s pinching carne asada, elote, and cebolla off of the grill with long metal tongs, stacking it neatly on a metal tray.

[translation: carne- meat, carne asada- grilled meat, elote- corn, cebolla- onion]

Chris is the first to approach your brother, his friendly nature making it easy for him to talk to new people,“Dude, that smells good!”

Your brother is very kind, his scary appearance completely juxtaposing his hospitable personality. He’s wearing baggy jean shorts and black air forces with a matching gold chain and bracelet. The black sunglasses that rest on his face make him look unapproachable, but the warm smile he offers Nick and Chris makes up for it.

“I’ll be right back, okay?” you quickly peck Matt’s cheek, once again staining his face with your lipstick. Matt hums in response, joining the rest of the men around the grill.

“I feel like I’m seeing triple. I didn’t even know there was three of y’all,” your brother jokes, offering them each a firm handshake. Even though they’ve heard the joke millions of times before the triplets laugh.

“Yeah, we get that a lot,” Nick laughs.

“Bet you do. Which of you is dating my sister, though?” your brother asks, but he knows the answer; the red kiss on Matt’s cheek is a dead giveaway.

“That would be this lucky guy,” Nick replies, shaking Matt’s shoulders playfully. Matt’s cheeks burn a bright red and he can’t stop himself from smiling, he truly was lucky. “If the red lipstick on his face doesn’t tell you, then his smile surely will,” Chris chimes in, his finger smudging the makeup on Matt’s face.

Your brother laughs, “Yeah you might wanna wipe that off before el jefe gets back.”

[translation: el jefe- the boss (masculine, a nickname commonly used when referencing one’s father)]

“Oh shit,” Matt mutters, scrambling for a nearby napkin and rubbing it along his face feverishly.

—

An hour has passed and no one else has arrived yet, I guess the triplets didn’t get the memo that Hispanics are almost always fashionably late. Your brother is still working the grill, immersed in an entertaining conversation with Nick about God knows what. Chris, on the other hand, is playing soccer with your sister. He keeps either kicking the ball over the fence or missing it completely, his clumsy actions make your sister laugh uncontrollably.

You sit with Matt at one of the many tables, hands intertwined as you both anxiously await your parents arrival. “He should be back by now,” you mumble, a restless leg bouncing up and down. You knew Matt would make a good first impression on your dad, but you were still nervous.

It’s almost like you summoned him, the familiar sound of your dad’s pickup truck ringing in your ears as he pulls into the driveway. “Is that him?” Matt asks, grip tightening on your palms. “Yeah that’s him. Don’t be nervous, my dad is nice,” you reply, but you’re equally as anxious.

Your dad’s first words do nothing to help your case, you’re just glad Matt can’t understand them, “Vengan a ayudar, huevones!”

[translation: “Come help, lazies!”]

“Lemme go help, you stay here. Okay?”

“No, I’m coming with you.”

“Actually yeah, good idea.”

Matt follows you to the front yard, he’s so beyond nervous that his hands are practically dripping with sweat. Your dad senses Matt’s presence immediately, “Y este pinche güey que?”

[translation: “Who’s this fucking guy?”]

“Pa! No seas feo!” you exclaim, but your dad just rolls his eyes and silently instructs you to unload the truck. He bought more alcohol for the party, because when you’re Hispanic you can never have enough.

[translation: “Pa! Don’t be ugly!”]

“Es tu novio o que?” your dad asks, grunting as he picks up two cases of beer. He rests them on his shoulders with ease, he’s so strong that it intimidates Matt. “Yes, dad. He’s my boyfriend,” you reply, playfully rolling your eyes.

[translation: “Is he your boyfriend or what?”]

Your dad, much like your brother, is also bald. The greatest differences between the two men are the wrinkles that crease near your dad’s eyes when he smiles, his long bushy beard, and his protruding beer belly. “Nice to meet you,” your dad finally directs his attention towards Matt, offering him a genuine smile as his thick accent butchers the words.

“Nice to meet you too, sir,” Matt replies, picking up a case of alcohol as to make himself useful. Your dad can tell that Matt’s nervous, and even though he doesn’t like the idea of you dating, he decides to take it easy on him. He’s heard stories about Matt from your mom and by the way you look at him, your dad knows he’s the one.

As your dad enters the backyard, absolutely shocked to see Chris and Nick. Never in his life has he met a twin, let alone triplets, “Ay güey! Hay tres? No chingues, creo que me mareé.” Everyone, except for the triplets who have no idea what’s going on, laughs at your dad’s statement.

[translation: “Oh shit! There’s three? Fuck, I think I just got dizzy.”]

“I think he likes you,” you shrug, a sly smile playing on your face. Matt suddenly feels confident, all the nerves washing away.

—

As the hours pass, the party becomes less innocent as everyone becomes more and more inebriated. Matt’s chatting with some of your uncles and cousins, a cold beer resting in his hands. He’s been nursing the same bottle all night, only sipping from it occasionally.

You’re on the opposite end of the lawn, sitting at a table with your chismosa cousin. “Your man is so handsome, prima. If you find another one like that, send him my way.”

[translation: chismosa- gossiper (feminine), prima- cousin (feminine)]

“He does have a brother,” you joke, eyes still trained on Matt. You needed to get him alone in the house, away from prying eyes.

You could think of so many actual reasons you needed him right now, though. First, he was being such a gentleman with your family. He introduced himself and made small talk despite the evident language barrier. Secondly, when you served him a plate, he finished it faster than you’ve ever seen him eat anything. Then, when he got up for seconds, he moaned as the delicious flavors melted in his mouth.

Everyone loved him, and for whatever reason that turned you on. The longer you looked at him, the wetter you became. You’re clenching your thighs together, the sheer thought of him making you squirm. Before you know it, you’re excusing yourself from your cousin and walking up to Matt with a random excuse as to why you need him inside.

“Hey is everything okay?” Matt whispers, hands resting on your hips. His head is crooked down towards you, lips capturing yours briefly before resting his forehead against yours. “Yeah, just missed you,” your breathy words fan his lips as you place a chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth and travel them down his neck.

Although he welcomes the feeling, you’re both standing in the kitchen and if anyone were to walk in they’d catch the intimate moment. That’s the last thing he wanted, especially not after making a good first impression, “not here, baby.”

You pout, completely retracting yourself from Matt, “okay.”

“No, wait. I said not here,” he pulls you back in as he looks around the house in search of another secluded area, not wanting to completely abandon your touch.

“Then where?” your voice is sultry and inviting.

“Outside?” it’s the first thing that comes to Matt’s mind, and the suggestion breaks you from the mood.

“Outside, Matt? Really? Like what, like a dog?” you have a dumbfounded look on your face, almost like you can’t believe he even suggested it.

“No, like, in my car,” he dangles the keys in front of your face before pulling you back in for a heated kiss.

The kiss seems to convince you because he’s successfully leading you to his car. The street is dark, only illuminated by a few street lamps, but you find it with ease.

You fumble into the backseat, Matt following behind you giddily. “We have to be quick, okay?” you whisper, pulling Matt in for another kiss by the collar.

“You know I like taking my time with my girl,” you can hear the smirk in his voice, a playful scoff falling from your lips. You scoot further into the back seat, making room for Matt as he situates himself between your legs.

“Did I tell you how beautiful you look today?” he brushes a stray curl away from your face, a gentle hand caressing your cheek. “Hmm yes, but I could hear it again,” you turn your face, kissing his palm.

“You look beautiful today,” he murmurs, leaning in for a kiss. You mould into each other, your lips fitting perfectly against his. Matt grinds himself down on you, momentarily breaking from you long enough for you to feather kisses along his neck.

With each kiss comes an affirmation, “I’m. So. Proud. Of. You.” It’s too dark to see, but you’re leaving lipstick marks all over him. The praises send blood rushing to his dick as you continue, “You did so good, papi. Just like I knew you would.”

[translation: papi- daddy (bear with me ppl)]

“Yeah? How good?” he eggs you on, relishing in all your sweet words. His hands push your dress up, the fabric scrunching up around your hips to reveal the red lace panties you wore underneath. Matt swears he’s in heaven.

“You did perfect…” your words trail off as you watch Matt remove your underwear in a daze. “How about you show me how good I did?” he grabs your waist, flipping you both over so you’re on top. You let out an excited squeal, your bare cunt coming in contact with his rough denim jeans. His dick is straining against the fabric, begging for release.

You grind onto his clothed penis, one hand resting on his chest as the other pushes your hair out of your face. Matt’s hands instinctively find your hips, a firm grip guiding your swiveling motions.

“Tell me how you want me, baby.”

“Ride me?”

As soon as he says it, you’re wiggling down onto his thighs and unbuckling his pants. Your fingers dance along his erection, teasingly tracing it. Matt bites his lip at the sight, “Please don’t tease.”

“So polite,” you giggle, finally tugging his pants down. His dick slaps against his stomach, the swollen tip already dripping with precum. Your thumb runs across the tip, spreading the lubrication along his shaft.

Matt’s a whimpering mess, propped onto his elbows to get a better view of you. When his hips subconsciously buck into your hand you decide to stop teasing and situate yourself above his crotch, dragging his penis along your wet folds before positioning it right at your entrance.

You’re going so slow, too slow, so Matt decides to take matters into his own hands. He grabs handfuls of your ass, pushing you down onto his dick with force. “Matt!” you gasp, the delicious stretch sending you into overdrive.

He doesn’t respond, instead he pushes and pulls your hips so that you’re bouncing on his cock. Your breasts are jiggling rhythmically, threatening to spill out of your dress. Animalistic grunts fill the car as Matt watches your pussy wrap around him, his jaw is slack and his eyebrows are furrowed in pleasure. Your soft whimpers and moans motivate him to keep going.

“You like that?” The car is rocking with the intensity of your movements, windows becoming foggier and foggier with each breathy moan that escapes your lips.

“Yes!” your voice is high pitched and squeaky, the pleasure choking you up. “Use your words, pretty girl,” he grunts, feeling the familiar wave of pleasure approaching.

“It’s so good, papi. So, so, so good,” you babble, struggling to formulate coherent sentences. Your pussy is fluttering around him, the sensation bringing Matt closer to his breaking point.

“Fuck! I’m gonna cum,” he whimpers, large hands squeezing the skin around your hips so hard that it was sure to bruise. You place loving kisses all over his face, especially on his cheeks and the corners of his mouth.

“I love you,” you moan, chanting his name again and again right after. He’s thrusting up into you feverishly, his pace faltering slightly as you both near your climax. “I love you too, princess. So much,” his voice is strained, strong arms wrapping around your waist and holding you in place as he shoots his warm load into you. His affirmations send you into a state of euphoria as your orgasm washes over you.

He’s peppering kissing all over your chest, whimpers escaping his lips as he comes down from his high. You delicately push his hair off of his sweaty forehead, admiring him as he continues his gentle attack on your chest.

“We should probably get back, babe. They’ll be wondering where we are,” you whisper, but he doesn’t want to let go. He wants to stay like this with you forever.

“Let me enjoy this a little longer,” he murmurs, hooded eyes finally looking up at you. Your lipstick is smudged all over your mouth. “Aww baby, your lipstick is all messed up. You look so cute,” he laughs, attempting to wipe some it off but failing.

He shifts slightly, the streetlights briefly managing to illuminate his handsome face. Your kiss marks are all over, a clear visual representation of how much you love him.

“You’re wearing more of it than I am,” you joke, earning yourself a playful slap on the ass.

—

MASTERLIST

A/n: clearly I couldn’t just write a smut right? Lmaoooo idk I had all the characters in my brain & it couldn’t just be smut 😭 hope u enjoy

This is so different from anything I’ve written before so lmk how yall like it & if you enjoy having Spanish in stories w/ the translations in the story💃🏻 also don’t kill me for using papi, i’d gladly call my man papi any day 😋

-L.A.M.B👼🏻💗

—

taglist: @nicksmainbitch @sturniololovers @mayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @gnxosblog @meg-sturniolo @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattnchrisworld @sanyi5 @lustfulslxt @whicked-hazlatwhore @tworosesblackthorn @mxqdii @fawned01 @junnniiieee07 @sturniolololover @missriddle03

note: if you want to be tagged in my fanfic related posts, you can access my TAGLIST and comment 💐

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pearlsgirls · 10 months

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Gold Pearl Drop Earrings Gold Dainty Pearl Drop Earrings Chunky Gold Circle Round Pearl Drop Earrings Pearl Dangle Earrings Round Dangle PRODUCT DESCRIPTION: ROUND GOLD PEARL DROP EARRINGS ♥️Gold Stainless Steel Stud ♥️Natural Pearls ♥️HONESTLY HANDCRFATED ! All of the jewellry is handcrafted by myself in my little PEARLS&GIRLS studio and not just bought and re-saled :) ♥️PACKED IN BEAUTIFUL BOX🎁 All items will be sent in a beautiful sturdy box with Pearls&Girls logo:) ♥️COMES WITH A GIFT Beautiful jewellery gift with every order! ♥️DISPATCH & DELIVERY TIMES All items are made to order. It usually takes 2-3 working days to prepare and ship an order. ♥️SHIPPING INFORMATION ALL ORDERS SHIP WORLDWIDE FOR FREE ! EUROPE -5 -7working days USA- approx. 7 working days REST OF THE WORLD - Usually arrives in 5-12 business days *Please, upgrade your delivery option if you need tracking for your parcel.* ♥️CONTACT Thank you so much for visiting! please feel free to drop me a message should you have any questions:) ♥️SOCIAL MEDIA For more jewelry and to join my newsletter you can find me on my website www.pearlsandgirls.com ♥️REFUNDS & EXCHANGES I always happy to assist and try my best to make my clients smile! I am offering hassle free refunds & exchanges in case of damaged items

#Pearl drop earrings #circle stud pearl #gold circle pearl #circle round earring #circle drop pearl #gold pearl earrings #gold pearl drop #gold pearl dangle #pearl Dangle Earring #pearl dangle round

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thewajewelry · 7 months

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Cherish the aura of this whimsical red 23 k gold thewa earrings with dankes , beaded in real citrine gemstones is followed by 3 micron gold plating ,Collect it now and adorn your hand with this luxurious dangler look earrings.

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In Focus :

Material Used - 23 k Gold Foil , Glass , 925 Silver Gold Plated , golden citrine Gemstones

Man Hours/ Time Taken -120 hours

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Note : All Rights on IP are reserved by SONKANCH. Due steps have taken to protect our IP. Any violation of our IP will invoke due legal actions & consequences

To shop visit our website www.sonkanch.com or walk in store or DM@9351511707

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#fashionjewellery #giftsforher #goldnecklaceset #jewelleryofday #earrings #designerjewelry #finegoldjewellery #kundanjewelry

#sonkanch #thewajewelery #thewajewellery #thewaart #thewaartjewellerypratapgarh #thewaartrajasthan #thewastorejaipur #jaipurjewellerybazaar #jewelleryshop #jewelleryshopping #goldjewellery #silverjewellery #jewelleryinfluencer #goldchains #danglers #silverchain #greenjewelry #goldkundan #gemstonejewelry #goldearrings #danglyearrings

#thewajewellery #rajputijewellery #goldjewellery #jewellery #thewaartjewellerypratapgarh #silverjewelry #thewajewelry #indianjewellery #thewaart #jaipur #round earrings #long earrings #ruby earrings #stud earrings #dangle earrings #gold earrings #hoop earrings #earring #earrings

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princessbrunette · 6 months

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desperately need to call boxer!rafe ‘my champion’ after winning a major fight !!!!

‘₊‧꒰ა 🩷 ໒꒱ ‧₊’

rafe thought wearing a medal around his neck was tacky and lame. he didn’t like doing it, he didn’t need a piece of red white and blue stripe dangling from him for him to know who he was inside that ring. but you liked it, said it made you proud to see it — so for that reason only he’d come home with it on, just to let you fawn over him.

that gold medal pendant swings in your face now, bordering on hitting you as he thrusts into you — his long body all but taking up the majority of your large bed which left you crumpled like a pretzel in the centre beneath him. the sound of his thick shaft punching through your flooded walls was audible, almost embarrassingly so as they could be heard over your repeated whines.

“oh rafe… oh!” you tighten your knees around him.

“keep sayin’ my name like that and i’mma fuck another baby into that cunt, alright? ‘that something you’d want so soon, hmm?” he slides his strong battered hands beneath your back so he could use you like a toy, his grip helping to fuck you on and off his cock.

“whatever you want rafe. j’st wanna— wanna do what you want me to do. my champion.” it just flows out of you naturally and he feels his balls tighten at the way you say it. earlier in his life he’d perhaps struggled with wanting to make people proud — and now you were here just giving him everything he ever wanted. he licks his lips and barks out an emotional laugh as he takes a break from the faster thrusts to grind out something slower.

“champion, huh? should be you wearin’ this stupid thing.” he gestures to the medal that hangs over you as he brings his body closer until it rests on your chest. you twirl the ribbon round your finger as you suck on your bottom lip, brows knitting with a suppressed moan.

“uh-uh.” you refuse softly though your teeth.

“uh-huh,” he argues. “takin’ this dick like a fuckin’ champ. as usual. all credit where it’s due, baby.” he handles you by your hips and gets to work again. “c’mon, take that reward kid. cum on it. yeah, cum on it.”

‘₊‧꒰ა 🩷 ໒꒱ ‧₊’

#anon #rafe cameron prompt #boxer!rafe

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beansprean · 5 months

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Support me on Patreon or send a tip on Kofi!

Some of my fav Vampire Guillermo outfits from my ongoing paper doll insanity! May or may not be canon for My Familiar's Ghost ;). 30+ more of these over on Patreon lol

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: 1. Full body of vampire Guillermo posing with his right hand in a peace sign and his left hand holding up his phone in selfie mode. He is wearing round glasses with gold frames and has his lips pursed as he looks at his phone screen. He is wearing brown dress shoes with a gold flame pattern, brown chinos, and a dark red ribbed sweater vest over a blue and pink floral button down. His collar is popped and he has on several gold rings, a gold hoop in his left ear, and a gold dangle on his right.

2. Repeat. Guillermo is wearing brown dress shoes with a lighter toe cap, dark blueish gray wool pants with a checker pattern, a lighter gray sweater vest over a pink button down with white stripes, and a black four tailed peacoat with a red rose pattern and lighter red lapels and liner. He has on several gold rings and gold studs with a curved loop back.

3. Repeat. Guillermo is wearing brown dress shoes with a lighter heart shaped toe cap, red chinos, and a sheer black button up with a red heart pattern over a black tank top. He has a single silver ring with a heart shape on his left ring finger and teardrop red jewels dangling from his ears.

4. Repeat. Guillermo is wearing rosy brown dress shoes with lighter wing tips, light pink cuords held up by suspenders, and a light pink and peach floral button up under an open knee length rosy brown cardigan with vertical stripes. There is a gold stud in his left ear and a dangling peach feather in his right.

5. Repeat. Guillermo is wearing leopard print loafers with no socks, black highwater pants, a black sweater with a knit chest pattern over a white button down, and an open front beige poncho with a diamond pattern along the trim. His shirt is untucked beneath the sweater, and he has on a pearl necklace along with several gold chains and matching pearl earrings.

6. Repeat. Guillermo is wearing brown wingtip shoes, black pinstripe high waisted pants, and a pale pink silk button up unbuttoned to his sternum under a knee length rosy brown fur coat. He has a white gold chain with a fang around his neck as well as matching rings topped with fangs on his middle two fingers and small hoops in his ears.

7. Repeat. Guillermo is wearing chocolate brown loafers, equally rich brown trousers, and a lace patterned sage green button up under a dark red cardigan with a diamond pattern. He has a knee length dark blue peacoat with a pink and green flower pattern on the lining and lapels as well as red teardrop earrings and a large blue stone on his left middle finger.

8. Repeat. Guilermo is wearing black dress shoes, black pants with a lighter bluish plaid pattern, and a black sweater over a white shirt with a red heart in the knit pattern over the breast. Fishnet pokes out from beneath the sleeves and he has on several silver rings, as well as a thin vertebrae necklace and ear studs with a silver triangle dangling from the left.

9. Repeat. Guillermo is wearing periwinkle loafers, dark purple-black pinstripe pants, and a translucent lace button down decorated with silver stars under a waistcoat colored like the night sky, with a purple nebula at the bottom and black with stars at the top. He has thin chain earrings and several silver rings shaped like stars and moons. /end ID

#wwdits #guillermo de la cruz #vampire guillermo #fashion #paper doll #my familiars ghost #what we do in the shadows #what we do in the shadows fx #my art #fanart #image described

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hooksbooks · 2 months

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This is the first of two books I bound for @renegadeguild's Tiny Books Bang.

The story is (don't) take this the wrong way by @delimeful and was typeset by @little-cat-press for the Tiny Books Bang. It's a mermaid AU of Sanders Sides (Web Series), which I had never actually heard of before. But when I saw that it was a merperson AU, this idea popped into my head and I knew I had to try it, especially after I read the story and really enjoyed it.

The inspiration is medieval girdle books, which are books whose covering material (typically leather) extended past the book to a knot that was both used as a handle when reading the book and could be tucked into the girdle when the book was not in use, thus the name.

Where my book is much smaller (it's a sextodecimo, about 2.25" by 2.75") it isn't designed to tuck into a belt/girdle, but rather is attached to a bracelet and dangles from the wrist when not in use.

When I think of mermaids, some things that come to mind are fish, treasure, and tridents, and I wanted to incorporate all three in the design. The book is covered in blue bookcloth, and then covered again in crocheted netting that was meant to bring to mind fishnets. I crocheted the netting from cotton-poly sewing thread doubled up. I incorporated a trident into the filet crochet, which is repeated on both the front and back covers. I blocked it on a piece of blotting...board? paper? It's soft and thick and meant to absorb moisture and came with my book press that started life as a flower press.

I then sewed the netting to the bookcloth covering the boards with teeny tiny stitches. It probably took twice as long to crochet the netting as it did to the rest of the binding combined, but I really like how it turned out.

The bracelet I picked to attach the netting to is gold-colored to invoke the idea of sunken treasure. Rather than attaching the netting from one end to the other, I folded both ends to the middle and attached it like that so when you have the book open it lays more nicely.

The design of the endpapers looks like looped thread, and also reminds me of netting. I secured the bookmark to the bottom of the text block and let it hang from the top, which works better when the book is hanging from the wrist and doesn't get caught in the netting. I also sewed a little starfish charm to the end of the bookmark.

Technical details:

Sewn-on endpapers

Rounded but not backed

No headbands (I think I intended to, but forgot and then decided it didn't matter enough to try to pull the cover back off)

Things I liked about this bind:

I really like the girdle-book-on-a-bracelet design, it came out almost exactly how I had envisioned it.

Things I'd like to change/improve for next time:

I wasn't 100% pleased with how trimming went on these. It wasn't terrible, but I probably need to come up with a different solution than just a utility knife and a straight edge.

Crocheting the netting really did take so long. I'm not even done with the netting that's going on my copy yet, which is why all the pics are from the typesetter's copy. Probably would not want to do netting for anything larger than this one was.

Overall feels: Loved it! I enjoyed the story, the design came out pretty much exactly how I envisioned it, overall I'm well pleased.

#renegade bindery #fanfiction #fanbinding #tiny books bang #sextodecimo #bookbinding #sanders sides

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fluorynn · 7 months

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〴 🔗 — ᴀ ᴛɪɴʏ Qᴜᴀʀɪᴛᴄʜ ɴᴏᴡ, ᴡʜᴀᴛ’ᴅ ʏᴀ ꜱᴀʏ?

〴 ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢꜱ : recom!miles quaritch ✘ fem!reader

〴 ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ : 4.3k

〴 ɢᴇɴʀᴇ / ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ : SMUT, no plot, Quaritch got a breeding kink, masturbation with an audience, teasing, vaginal sex, mentions of oral sex, choking? ( Quaritch receiving it, I am FERAL when it comes to those dog tags of his—) unprotected sex, squirting, creampie, explicit language

〴 ᴅɪᴠɪᴅᴇʀꜱ ʙʏ : @cafekitsune !!!

〴 a/n : Well… this is unexplainable, lol. One of my first times writing smut for Quaritch — for any big blue alien, lol🥲 Imma admit, I didn’t see him in this way at the beginning but the more I watched the movie, the more I realized he had no right being this FINE😭 anyways, im getting this out the way so I can continue with Neteyam’s series !!! Enjoy !!! <33

“Darlin’, jus’ move yer hand f’me. C’mon—”

The rather swollen lower lip of Quaritch’s lolled once more between his teeth. The corners of his mouth had elevated into a smirk. One that brought a prominent twinkle to his gold hues, one that clashed with the silver around his neck, dog tags dangling across his chiseled pecs down to the planes of his stomach. Of course, the breathing mask was also dangling his neck, but it seemed to be long forgotten by the recom with every breath he stole from you.

Constricting was the word to describe his lengthy abdomen, for the way he restrained himself with his entire abnormal strength from plunging forward into your tiny entrance, and the assistance of the small facility’s dim lights and perspiration coating his azure tones sent another jolt down to your stomach.

“M-Miles, baby, it’s not gonna go in—”

A ‘tsk’ hissed from between his teeth, lips puckering in that feigning disappointing manner, and a deep exhale emerged from you. The pink flesh of your walls fluttered around the imperceptible even though Quaritch’s plump, softly glowing tip stroked at your entrance, your small hands applying the slightest of pressure to his lower stomach.

His head couldn’t help but tilt in wonder while a dimple showed between his brows. Really, he could just ignore your commentary, ignore the way the small length of your fingers pushed at his lower stomach in order to keep him from moving forward and use his much stronger force. But how could he ignore that cute panic striking your eyes? He couldn’t be that harsh with you.

So instead, the large expanse of his thumb reached to gently push your jaw up to look at him. “ ‘T’s always the same thing with you, cupcake. Sayin’ it won’t go in, and yet ev’ry time, it does.”

Another lustful glaze of honey spiraled over his irises, making their shade darker, sponging those now dilating pupils of his as he glanced down your bare body and disheveled attire. His stupidly large hands and sharp canines had torn it to pieces, until your breasts were liberated and your weeping hole clenched from the cool air.

Your round eyes couldn’t evict from analyzing every tiny detail of his breathtaking face; at the way those lines upon his forehead wrinkled with his stifled grunts, how his brow quirked as his golden gaze devoured your every curve, at how his smiling mouth was moistened with your essence and was a reminder to how mere seconds ago, that feline-like tongue of his was between your legs, deliriously assaulting your clit, that Cheshire Cat smile sprawled across his face as he looked up at your crumbled expression.

The luminous freckles across his cheeks and flat nose were shining even more with his sweat and your slick, and the ones trailing down the lean length of his body glittered and entranced you.

His features were sinister, lips curling over his teeth while the rest remained hard. “I won’t repeat myself, cupcake; move. Your. Hand.” His honed incisors found their spot below your jawline, finding the faint puncture they’d left minutes ago and enhanced the mark once more as they sank in.

That was when your jaw went slack, lips shaping a pretty ‘O’ while the smallness of your palms pressed over the nape of his damp neck, fingers winding over the curve of his head.

Quaritch inundated every one of your senses; his scent wavered your atmosphere, his ridiculously long frame lumbering and hiding your petite one from any other’s vision, the coolness of his dog tags grazing the sensitive flesh of your breasts and equally as biting as the way his canines did.

Heat liquified through your entire body, walls elongating beyond constructing capacity the second your cunt consumed him entirely. “F-fuck—”

Quaritch thrusted forward, half of his widthful cock disappearing between your legs, and the tiny bed below created a screeching creak from the act. A dribble of sweat shun between his brows as he grunted a low cuss word, teeth grinding together at the way your little cunt tightened around him.

“ almos’ ‘ere, doll, almos’ ‘ere.” he crooned, thumb rising to stroke the damp locks over your temple, eliciting a muffled whimper from your throat.

Inhaling another sharp breath, glowing orbs peered into yours and with a small bob of your head, the other half of his shaft soon followed until his pelvis hovered over yours. All 10 plus inches stretching you out. Those eyes of his were blown out now as he stared down, being met with a subtle, so very subtle curve shadowing the flesh of your upper stomach — not only his eyes were abroad but so was that smirk of his as his hand went over the expanse of your belly, the outer shape of his cock, calloused fingertips grazing over the swollen flesh.

“Well, wouldja look at that beauty…ain’t it, darlin’?”

Ever so lightly he pushed down, and when he did, whine after whine flew up your lungs. He didn’t dare to move though, not until you gave him the green signal that he could, giving you time to modify and gain control of your inhales and exhales.

Quaritch was no better though, not while he stroked the bulge within your lower abdomen, not while you tried pulling him even closer, sputtering out a low chuckle and jittered breath before raising his mask to take another deep and long inhale. “ ‘N here ya thought it wouldn’t go in—”

He was cut off by the way your dainty hand winded around the loose silver drooping across his chest, wrapping it tightly around each length of your fingers until inches away from the base of his throat. His eyes widened at the sight of yours; round, devoured with lust. “Fuck me, Quaritch.”

His rasped chuckle pulsated through your insides, and a low groan erupted past his mouth when you squeezed around him as the octave of his mocking laughter picked within the deepest parts of you. “Patience, darlin’. Don’t wanna ruin little you if ya don’t give both of us a minute—”

His voice faded amongst the thick air, words caught in his throat with every twist and wind his dog tags made, clinking faintly against the other as your knuckles were practically burying against the blue flesh of his throat, nearly leaving no passage for air to transmit through.

“Ruin me.”

“Well ain’t ya a pretty brat—”

You huffed, hands releasing his necklace and pushed him away. This caused Quaritch to stumble and lose his balance, knees digging into the delicate mattress and hoisting himself up as you slid away from him, tight cunt releasing him with a wet pop that made the both of you moan out loud. He was about to protest as to why you moved, why you turned away from him but all he could do was let his eyes follow the way you got on your knees, follow the way the pretty arch of your back descended down to the curve of your ass; so round, so fucking eye capturing and mouth watering that he has to restrain himself from craning forward to take a sharp bite.

You felt him watching, felt the way those amber irises flickered into specks that soon flowed through you, gathering and igniting down your body and between your thighs as they rubbed together to add friction to the burn. Reaching next to the bedside, you had to prop yourself on your forearms in order to grab what you desired, leaving your whole ass up in the air and in perfect display for the avatar.

Ears chirped high, tail lashing in anticipation the more you arched, abdomen pressed into the white sheets. His palm had slithered down his stomach, fingers wrapping themselves around his cock and tightening at the base when your adorable fingers reached back and parted the globes of your ass, parting them so fucking prettily until both your holes were calling out to him.

“Ruin me, Quaritch.”

“I’ll be damned…” Lithe and swift was his movement as he rose up, and even on his knees his large body still lurched over you when he scooted closer, not caring for the bed’s possible break and the sound of his palm meeting your ass blocked out the creaking.

“Whatever occurred to ‘won’t go in’, huh?” He taunted you, yet you had felt him align himself once more, tip kissing your awaiting hole. He couldn’t help but slip in just an inch for the way you were drenched. Slick were your puffy lips, cascading down the inner angles of your thighs. Quaritch thought a little teasing never hurt anyone, so he was quick to slide out as soon as he slid in.

Desperate little thing you were, squirming and winding your hips back for his touch, the inhuman blaze of his body mingling with yours. You couldn’t help but whine at the way his fat tip did nothing more than graze along your pussy lips, teasing right over your clit.

It hurt , it ached terribly, the sexual frustration that consumed you. “Miles,” you muttered, the call of his name ending with a whine when a single digit of his — not enough to occupy the space of his cock but lengthy enough to stretch you completely out — swirled in, the pad rubbing over your adhesive, soft walls. “Somethin’ wrong, doll?”

His arrogant voice would’ve conflicted you if it weren’t for the way his accent thickened. He took pleasure in this, smug in the way your walls became one with his thick finger, watching the way you fell apart for him; wearily moaning, pussy drooling with no shame. Not a proper fuck yet and here you were, small silhouette disintegrating amongst his touch.

The very touch of his within you that soon turned into two fingers, slow at sliding in and out with the assistance of his dick.

“Quaritch. Enough with the games.”

Nothing but another chuckle huffed out, amused at the way you moved, already scheming and toy with your pretty pussy for as long as he wanted, and you caught onto this. Screw his damn schemes.

His mouth pursed in distaste at the way you perched forward and away from his shining tip. But all he could do was roll his broad shoulder back as he tried peering at what it was that you were doing, with his throbbing cock in his hold.

His head slightly inclined to the side as he watched something come into your hold. “Whacha got there, sweetheart?”

You disregarded his question and turned over, back beautifully curling against the bedsheets and legs bent to the air, parting as far as they would allow you to. Quaritch’s nose sharply inhaled, throat being greeted with every droplet of drool collecting in his mouth at the sight of you; the pillar of your throat exposing the blemished flesh there ( thanks to his truly), head tossed back with your face tilted to the ceiling yet eyes hidden beneath closed lids. The room’s small scale of space only lets the sounds of your breathing enter its atmosphere.

Until the hum of the vibrating device in your hands was featured. Quaritch’s attention was punctured to it, allured to the way you slowly brought it lower with each second.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were ya—”

Oh but he wasn’t. And you would. Quaritch — knelt on your bed that nearly met its breaking point — was disposed of all for a cruddy toy that’s mushed up against your clit.

“S-shit— oh!”

The merciless celerity muggled the liquid pouring from your cunt, seeping through every direction and Quaritch watched in awe at the way it all came into little crystalline spheres, trickling down and pooling into an entire puddle within the disheveled sheets.

This is what you wanted from him, what you needed from him; to give you the immense pleasure this silly toy was providing for you. Yet you had to admit it was enjoyable, the way Quaritch’s sharp gaze stayed fixated on your abused clit, a twitch of his eye giving you the satisfaction that he desired to be the one making you feel this good. He desired to be the one you crumbled apart for; the one that precious pussy got demolished to. But he knew forbearance was never an easy task for you, or better yet he should know this. You weren’t in it for his foolish games at the moment.

“Desperate little thing ya are, eh?”

A coherent rejoin spewed from your lips, no sense to your words whatsoever and this made him grin widely. The bed screeched once more, this time with Quaritch’s back flat against the wall but not before bringing the delicacy of his queue over his shoulder while one of his long arms extended out and lifted your body with lithe, placing you over his upper leg, and you could feel the hardness of his cock, pushing and rubbing against the length of your spine.

Your thighs were dangerously apart from one another thanks to the firm stretch of his large thigh, repelling you from pulling away from him as the pressure of the quivers into your pulsing bud augmented when his palm, forceful and large, enveloped your much smaller one and applied pressure there.

“M-Miles, baby, w-wai—”

His chuckle reverberated within your flesh, adding onto your helpless attempt to moan out a plea. “Nah, darlin’. If ye’re that desperate for it, lemme help ya out then.”

The pressure accelerating working your lower belly was beyond ferocious, and Quaritch knew this rather quickly. He knew this for the way his ears flitted at the sound of your jumbled heartbeat and pitch of your slurs, the way his free hand engulfed your entire hip as he tugged you closer, the way he picked up the intoxicating scent of you increasing, the way he had pushed you forward and plunged one, then two thick fingers deep into your cunt and you squeezed deliciously around them, pushing you close to the edge and into the pools of ecstasy.

The adaptedness of his finger pads covered and smoothed perfectly over the mushy parts of your walls. “ ‘Atta girl, that’s it—” His gravel-like voice grazed into your breathless and sharp exhales.

“I-I’m—Miles—”

An ignition flared in Quaritch’s core, with you so fucking pressed up against him, at the knowledge of you near in becoming undone all over his hand, just for him. The more his fingers thrusted in while the flat of his palm pushed the toy deeper, the more cum oozed out; sticky and translucent lot cohereting against his blue skin and a wide smirk morphed his features, waiting to get a taste.

“Ya near, cupcake?” You chin pushed into your chest, jaw quivering as the words whined out: “Uh-huh, I-I’m close—”

“Gonna make a bigger mess f’me?”

“Y-yes—” Quaritch withdrew his hand from applying pressure and led yours — still clutching the vibrator to your pulsing clit — just right above your lower belly, right near your pelvis area. This emitted an increase of the drizzle that was already scurrying around his fingers and absorbed into the bedsheets and his outstretched leg, until its splotching sounds had clashed with the octaves of your moans.

His hand was unrelenting though, still spurting in with the same merciless force he owned despite you already reaching your peak. “Q-Quaritch, oh my— shit!”

“I gotcha, sweetheart,” he purred into your ear, the pink of his nose nuzzling over the soft skin behind. “Let it out, c’mon, let it all out f’r me.”

The immense ecstasy you had felt slowly eased, bringing you down to Pandora’s surface. The pace of his fingers settled for a slow, sensual one and they jittered slightly within you when your damp cheek fell over his flexing forearm. “That was nice,” you breathed out, peering back at him with that lovely grin of yours that he too returned.

He pulled his digits out, groaning lowly at the squelching sound your cunt created when he did. Though they were quick to latch onto the flesh of your thighs, lifting you in the air until you were pressed down against and facing him. Those supple lips of yours parted in astonishment at the way his damn dick tumescences, cushioned tip shining with the opalescent glow of his precum, sprinkled with the twinkle of his star like freckles. It was unfair how pretty it was, how pretty his entire existence was. And Quaritch knew this, his mind had grown into this form, and he knew the way it affected you by the way he grinned with pride when your lower lip protruded.

“You’d be doing us a pleasure in givin’ us a turn, sweetheart.” With a tap of his tip on your tummy, both of your hands reached behind to support your weight on his thighs as you lifted yourself up for it to bury itself in you without any trouble, your cum functioning as lubricant as you settled down halfway down.

Your whimpered “yes” was all he needed to proceed, and the length of fingers wounded over your hip, practically splaying across your back while his thumb pressed below your belly button as he slowly pushed you much further down, watching as his cock awaited filled you, twitching to deeply fill your womb with his cum.

He didn’t mind the idea, he was actually curious to see a Tiny Miles Quaritch or… what would be a good way to name the girl? — if the little plum came out blue and chubby or the peach came out neutral and gorgeous like their mama, running around, wanting to test the waters in getting you round and swollen while carrying his inhuman DNA more than one time. The thought made him spasm as he stretched you out with his entire length, until you were flushed against his pelvis.

“Oh hell,” he gritted out, watching the way your eyes peered down at his constricting torso. “Perfectly tight as always…”

Vehement he was when it came to sex, and every time, with every touch and utter, you mollified for him. Clearly, this time was no different; the feel of Quaritch tumescending in you, his dick embedded within your stomach, all the reason to bring you close once again. “M-miles, oh my god—”

“Permission to move, doll?” The frantic bobs of your head gave him the opportunity to refresh some manners in that pretty head of yours. Teeth, deadly and predatorial, excavated into the interstice where the graceful line of your neck ranged and became shoulder. He didn’t release until the tang of iron became one with his taste buds, the rough surface of his tongue wasting no time in lapping the trickle of scarlet leaving your abused skin.

A hiss whispered from your lungs, and he soon managed to sweetly stroke his wet muscle over the pain he had caused until it was nothing but pleasure. The corner of your mouth hoisted when the flexible extension of his tail coiled around your thigh, wisps of dark hair skimming across your inner thigh.

“How cute…”

“Those ain’t the words I’m waiting for, doll face.” He growled out, and you reached out to very lightly tug on his queue. “Dammit, Quaritch!—”

“ ‘Dammit, Quaritch’ ain’t the statement I was lookin’ for, now I—”

His sentence didn’t finish its near end for your palms had reached behind and planted themselves on his thighs, hips giving a slow roll before lifting your body up until the thick tip of it remained slightly in and slammed back down with a throaty moan.

His back pushed against the wall, putting the mask over his flat nose and mouth once more, and you could see the way his sly grin grew behind the fog his sharp breaths created in the mask before letting it dangle once more across his chest, bracing himself for the next of your moves.

One turned into two, two into three surprisingly hard claps your ass gave with his cock nuzzled tightly and further within your womb with each bounce, each stretch. “F-fuck, Miles, fuck me, please!” You beseeched, you whined, not caring anymore to contain yourself.

Quaritch huffed out a chuckle, a single large hand reaching over to encase both your tiny wrists, practically your forearms in the curl of his fingers and mushed them against your breasts, and his back pushed off from the wall so his other arm could curl around your entire midsection. You had no other option but to surrender full control over to the colonel without a single complaint or shift of movement, leaving it all to him.

“As you please, cupcake,” are the last words uttered before he lifted your body off his cock, only to ram you down with much more verve. He continued until the choir of huffs, moans and whimpers featured with skin plastered and slammed against one another recapitulated within the small room, the most probable outcome being that the other recom avatars and scientists could hear what was going on.

A pearlescent circlet scintillated at the base of Quaritch’s dick, disseminating over the blue tones of his shaft with every rise and fall your pussy gave him. “F-fuck, Miles, fuck, Miles….” was dragged from your hoarse throat, revealing the pretty column of it with the head tilt you gave until an ache came upon your shoulders.

“Damn, darlin’,” his voice gruffed out, vocal cords tight and visible around the muscles of his neck as every single fiber of his body tightened as well as he contained the orgasm his lower belly implored to fully release past his aching tip.

Taking advantage of the hold he had around your wrists, he tugged you forward until you sprawled over his abdomen, the pads of his thumbs rubbing soft circles over your chin and lower lip. “Y’keep squeezing around me like this, pretty thing, don’t know if I can hol’ it—”

“ ‘m sorry, M-Miles, c-can’t help it—”

Trembling, overwhelmed, and close you were to be ruined once more atop of Quaritch. Your thighs and his tail was coated with sweat and your cum that splotched with every pull down and every snap his hips gave. “D-don’t think I can keep it in, don’t think I can keep myself from cummin’ in ya—”

He had slightly pushed you back and brought your sore arms over your head, tears pearling your waterline and lashes as you both peered down between your legs; how his pretty dick disappeared and half of it would reappear once again with the slight protuberance of your belly, the thick and glowing veins accentuating his striped shaft curling inside of you in the most exhilarating and immoral way.

“N-no, please cum in me— d-don’t pull out, d-don’t hold it—”

Quaritch’s brows had pinched together, an affliction being the cause of their shape as his remorseless thrusts had settled for a slower pace, though the force did not go unrelented, and though it brought a scorching pain to settle deep within your bones and muscles, you didn’t regret it whatsoever.

“Words like that are dangerous now. Y’really want me to fill ya up, doll, with the possibility of you gettin’ pregnant?” He brought your forearms back over your chest, pressing them further in as the arm currently around you pulled away, his palm being splayed out and pushing against the small of your back until your body shaped a lovely arch; and he grinned at the fact that you let him bend you to his will.

Uncoordinated syllables spewed from your tongue, unknown to anyone else besides Quaritch for he’s seen you in this state more times than he could ever count. “Hm hmm, get me pregnant, M-Miles—”

Lax colored eyes gained another coating of color as his grin outstretched his entire face. “Hm, really?” His back hunched off the wall until his mouth hovered over your tilted down chin, palm applying more pressure to the lower column of your spine, swirling you over his dick as your whines increased in pitch. “Want a blue fleshed baby in ya? A babe that carries my genes?”

A long groan followed down the length of his throat at the narrow clench your walls gave him from his words, and you could feel every spasm his dick created in your stomach. You could feel the ooze pooling within you, knowing his restraints had been broken as Quaritch’s dick already exuded.

“A pretty baby that looks like their mama?” He grunted out, almost as if the thought excited and pained him all at once, to see a little one portraying the exactness of your lovely features.

“ Do it, Colonel. Fill me up.”

All Quaritch needed was your verbal assent, and with that, not even a second later, the coiling band within his lower stomach finally snapped, emptying his entire load in your pussy, giving into your words. Thick and boiling it was, your cunt, your own flowing with it. The increasing pressure of it became too much, pushing your own release afterwards, hybridizing with Quaritch’s cum as it seeped down his cock, still throbbing from the aftershocks within you.

His tight grip relinquished into a soft one around your arms, soon releasing them as he very carefully, very gently brought you to his front until your chin found its spot over his heaving chest, cock still buried deep inside of you, making sure that none of his seed went without purpose.

It was an entire different story when it came to aftercare, how sweet, how soft he was with you; his large palm cradling the curve of your head close while his fingers managed to reach and stroke the damp tendrils of hair pasted to your temples and cheeks, his tail setting for a protective, gentle curl around your leg, his mouth softly falling over your forehead, your cheek, your neck, shoulder, with hushed praises meeting your perspired flesh as well.

You exhaled serenely as you melted into his touch, Quaritch’s other palm flush over the small of your back while his thumb stretched to stroke your belly. Silence lumbered over the two of you, savoring in the feeling and moment until Quaritch’s rasped, accented voice had to cut in.

“A tiny Quaritch now, what’d ya say?”

“Absolutely not naming him Tiny Quaritch.”

“Nickname should be T.Q.”

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