Tumgik
#all of these have been really soft and sweet... and like
sugoroo · 2 days
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TRADING CARDS!
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summary: in which toji’s in need of some cash, and you’re in need of having your cherry popped! he’ll take your v card if you lend him your credit card. simple, right?
warnings: fem!reader, penetration (p in v), breast play, tummy bulge, squirting, loss of virginity (reader), fingering, oral (f receiving), age gap (reader just finished college), tojis a bit of a perv, 18+ minors dni.
wc: 7.2k
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"hey, doll?" toji grunts as he pokes his head into your room, his hands shoved deep in his pockets as he shoots you a slightly apologetic grin. "i'm gonna need ya to cover my half of the rent again this month."
you look up from your phone, your lips pulling down into a small frown at his words. this isn't the first time this has happened, and it certainly won't be the last, either. "seriously, toji?"
toji simply gives you a noncommittal shrug in response, turning the pockets of his sweatpants inside out as if to further prove his point — there wasn't a single cent in sight. "i ain't got nothin', sweets. hardly been able to buy food these last few days."
you roll your eyes, letting out a soft huff at his not-so-subtle attempt to make you feel bad for him (which almost always worked, and he knew it.) "fine. but you better come through next month. i can't keep covering you."
he lets out a sigh of relief, reaching out to ruffle your hair with one his large hands. "yeah yeah, i'll pay up next time. promise." he was lying through his teeth, and you both knew it. but you chose not to comment on it — maybe a small part of you wanted to keep toji as your roommate, even if you had to pay his rent half the time.
toji heads back out into the living room to lazily slump across the couch, leaving you to your own thoughts.
it was really starting to grate on your nerves how much you had to support him. he's a fully grown man, and you're a young girl fresh out of college. and yet, somehow, you ended up being the one paying his bills with the leftover money from your summer job.
and maybe it wouldn't bother you so much, if you weren't so constantly pent up.
college was supposed to be your time to shine, where you'd attend countless parties and have meaningless hookups with guys in bathrooms, just like all the movies you watched when you were younger.
but it wasn't really like that. and as much as you loathe to admit it, you're still a virgin. with only your own feeble fingers to keep you company, you can probably count on one hand the amount of orgasms you've had in your life.
and that's when you have an idea.
it's just like trading cards — toji takes your v card, and in return, you lend him your credit card.
it's shameless, and you might've felt embarrassed with yourself for even coming up with it if you weren't in dire need of releasing some tension.
and if toji's as desperate for money as he makes out like he is, maybe he wouldn't mind agreeing to your little proposition.
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the only catch in your genius idea is that you actually have to ask toji about it.
you've been lingering outside his bedroom door for what feels like hours, trying to figure out how to actually phrase your proposal without making a complete fool of yourself.
but just as you timidly raise a fist to knock, the door swings open, and toji walks right into you, causing you to collide face first with his toned chest. you barely register the two strong hands that rest over your shoulders to steady you, your mind suddenly laser focused on the way your cheek is squished between his pecs.
"oops. sorry, doll," toji chuckles heartily, moving one of his hands from your shoulder to gently grasp your hair and pull your now noticeably flushed face away from his chest. "didn't see ya there."
"n-no, it's my fault." you manage to stammer out, taking a few deep breaths in an attempt to regain your composure. shit, you hadn't even asked him yet, and you were already a mess.
he raises a thick eyebrow at your skittish demeanour, his hand leaving your hair to teasingly poke at one of your adorably pink cheeks. "aww, what's this? you blushin'?"
you try and shoot him a glare, but it looks more like a pout than anything else as you meekly swat his hand away from your face. "shut up, toji. you're the one who walked right into me."
he lets out a deep, amused chortle at this, crossing his arms over his chest and staring down at you with a lazy smirk. "right. and you're the one who was lingering outside my door like a creeper."
you let out an embarrassed huff at his rebuttal, knowing there's no way to deny it now. you take another deep breath, idly wringing your hands as you crane your neck to look up at him. "yeah. about that. i, um, i wanted to ask you something."
toji cocks his head to the side, his expression turning mildly curious. "oh? what could you possibly want to ask this old man, hm?" he grunts, your little nervous fidgets not going unnoticed by him.
"w-well, i, um..." you begin, your features twisting up into a grimace as you struggle to get the words out. damn it, you were already cursing your past self for thinking this was a good idea. "i have a proposition for you."
this seems to pique the dark-haired man's interest, and he straightens his back slightly, reaching up with a large hand to scratch his chin. "what kind of proposition are we talkin', sweets?"
you swallow thickly at the way he puts such emphasis on the word proposition, as if he already knows exactly what you're thinking. but of course he doesn't — how could he?
"the kind of proposition where i lend you my credit card to help with your little... money problem," you begin, fighting to keep your voice as steady as possible. "and in return, you..."
toji's eyebrows raise even higher at your words, and he lets out a grunt of irritation when you trail off at the end of your sentence. "in return i what? use your words, doll."
"and in return, you..." you repeat quietly, your voice becoming consistently quieter until the last few words come out as a mere whisper. "help me lose my virginity."
the silence that follows your words is absolutely deafening, the only noise being the faint sounds of cars passing by the road outside the apartment.
you immediately start thinking of ways to salvage the situation, maybe just laugh it off and say it was a prank or something. it's a flimsy excuse, but it's better than this painful silence.
just as you open your mouth in an attempt to backtrack, toji grasps your chin in one large hand, effectively shutting you up with the movement. "you're a damn virgin?" he rasps out, turning your flushed face from side to side as if examining it would help him find the answer.
"u-uh, yeah," you mutter sheepishly, shrinking in on yourself slightly under the sudden intensity of his gaze. "why do you sound so surprised?"
toji barks out an almost incredulous laugh, as if you were utterly ridiculous for even asking such a thing. "seriously?" he huffs, shaking his head. "you're a fine little thing. figured ya would've had guys linin' up around the block for ya at college."
your eyes widen almost comically at his words, your mouth opening and closing a few times as you try to form a coherent response. you never expected your considerably older, rough around the edges roommate to actually find you attractive. "i-is that a yes, then?"
he scoffs loudly at this, repeating your words back to you in a mocking tone. "how the hell do ya expect me to say no to that?" he mutters, the pad of his thumb skimming across your jaw. "i've done worse deals for a whole lot less."
you let out a long sigh of relief, some of the tension leaving your shoulders at his agreement. the hardest part was out the way — you'd managed to get him on board.
"hey." toji grunts, his hand on your chin squeezing hard enough to get your attention as he angles it higher, tearing you from your thoughts. "look at me when we're talkin', girl."
your eyes widen even further at his sudden commanding tone, your thighs instinctively pressing together slightly beneath your skirt. the reaction doesn't go unnoticed by toji, but he doesn't comment on it, simply filing the information away for later.
"ya sure this is what y'want, sweets?" toji asks, his voice barely above a low mutter as he leans his head down closer to your level, his hot breaths just barely puffing across your face as he seemingly searches for any signs of hesitance. "once it's done there ain't no goin' back."
"i... i know." you gulp, vaguely aware of the way his dark eyes follow the gentle bobbing of your throat. "i wouldn't have asked if i didn't want this."
he hums, appearing satisfied with your answer. his thumb moves from your jaw to the plump skin of your lower lip, pulling it down slightly before letting it snap back into place. "how long do i get ya credit card for?"
"how long?" you repeat, blinking a few times. you hadn't even thought about that. and it was becoming quite hard to focus with the way he was toying with your lip. "um... twenty four hours."
toji grunts in acknowledgement, but his lips start to spread into a mischievous grin, and you can tell he's not going to make this easy for you. "nah. forty eight."
you let out an indignant huff, your eyes narrowing at the audacity of this man. two whole days? he was probably planning on bankrupting you at this rate. "thirty six." you counter.
he lets out a hearty laugh, his chest visibly rumbling with amusement at your haggling. his thumb traces over your lip again, causing you to let out a shuddering breath. "mm. ya got y'erself a deal there, dollface."
"good." you mutter, reaching out a hand towards him in a gesture of sealing the deal. toji takes it, his large hand entirely enveloping yours as he gives it a brisk shake.
before you can even think of saying anything else, toji uses his grip on your hand to tug you closer to his chest, your face almost colliding with his torso again.
"i'm assumin' you've atleast kissed before?" toji muses, this thumb still tracing the contour of your lips as if that would answer his question.
you let out a small, embarrassed laugh, rubbing the back of your neck as you find yourself avoiding his gaze again. "yeah, i have."
toji tuts, yanking your chin back up again, more forcibly this time. "jesus, girl. what did i say about keeping your eyes on me?" he grumbles. "and whatcha laughin' for? i say somethin' funny?"
"sorry." you huff, your lips pushing out into an involuntary pout. "i'm not laughing because of you. it was just a really... bad kiss."
he hums in response, tilting his head to the side as his grin morphs into a small smirk. "damn. a virgin and you've never even had a good kiss. i got my work cut out for me here."
you try and shoot him another glare, a huff of exasperation leaving your lips. "no need to rub it in, toji. i'm paying you for this, remember?"
toji barks out an amused chuckle, shaking his head at your little attempts to try and look stern. cute. "yeah yeah, i know ya are. and don't worry, ya won't regret it."
you're about to open your mouth to retort, but before a single syllable can leave your mouth, toji's lips are on yours. they're rough and slightly chapped as they brush over your own, just the texture you would've expected them to be if you had to guess.
it's not a rough kiss, but it's not exactly gentle either. it's somewhere in the middle, somewhere that makes you think even the way toji kisses is just so... toji.
he pulls away after a few moments, letting out a soft huff of laughter at your dazed expression. "you still in there, sweets?" he hums, flicking his thumb against your forehead.
you can feel the way your cheeks flush darker at his taunting words, silently cursing yourself for getting so worked up over a simple kiss. damn it, it was so obvious just how touch starved you were. how were you going to make it through this?
"i'm still here." you grumble under your breath, causing toji to chuckle even harder. "and if you're just gonna keep laughing at me, maybe i'll go ask someone else to help me."
toji's chuckle turns into a bark of laughter, and his lips curve up into a smug grin as he flicks your forehead again. "no can do. we already shook on it. handshake's sacred, dollface. dontcha know?"
"ugh. you just made that—" you attempt to argue, but he shuts you up by pressing his lips back onto yours again, slightly rougher this time. you let out a sound of surprise against his mouth when his scar brushes against your skin, but slowly, you start to reciprocate the gesture.
he lets out a satisfied hum, starting to take a few steps backwards through the doorway of his room, his lips still moving against yours all the way.
you angle your face up to unknowingly chase after his lips when he pulls away, and you have to swallow down the embarrassing sound that threatens to escape you when you realize what you're doing.
toji snorts, shutting the door behind the two of you with a stupidly self-satisfied smirk stretching across his lips. "that attached to me already, huh? we only just started."
"i'm not attached." you scoff meekly, though your actions severely contradict your words as you lean up on your tiptoes in the search of another kiss.
"mhm. whatever y'say, girl." he mutters amusedly, his hand snaking under your chin again to help you reach his mouth. he meets you halfway, his kisses growing slowly more insistent as his tongue flickers out to swipe over your lower lip.
a soft gasp escapes your lips at the feeling of the warm, wet muscle asking for entrance into your mouth, but you comply, parting your lips to allow the intrusion.
he lets out a satisfied grunt, his tongue darting every which way as it expertly explores the warm cavern of your mouth. you just stand there, completely stock still, for a long few seconds before your own tongue starts to meekly lick against his.
"yeah, there we go," toji mutters into your mouth, his thick tongue easily enveloping yours as he rolls them together. he's so effortless with it, like this is second nature for him — you suppose it probably is. you're not oblivious to the amount of hookups he brings back to the apartment when he thinks you're asleep.
toji pulls back from your mouth with a lewd pop! once he registers that you need some air, observing the way your chest rapidly rises and falls like you can't get enough oxygen with silent amusement.
he's going to have such fun pulling more of these pretty reactions from you.
while you're still desperately trying to catch your breath, he slides both of his rough, calloused palms under the fabric of your shirt, his hands leaving a tingling trail of heat across your skin.
"wait—" you begin to protest, but whatever you were going to say trails off once you feel his fingers brush against the underside of your breasts.
he lets out a grunt of surprise, raising his bushy eyebrows. "no bra, doll?" toji scoffs, shaking his head. "you were ready for this, weren't ya?
your cheeks flood with embarrassment for the nth time this evening, and you feel the sudden urge to just shove his hands away and go back to your room to get yourself off with your feeble fingers. but you don't.
toji lets out yet another snort of laughter at your reaction, rolling his eyes. "i ain't sayin' it's a bad thing, girl," he mumbles, moving his hands to cup each of your breasts in his wide palms. "makes things easier for me. i like it."
you let out a small huff of relief at his sort-of-creepy reassurance, unable to fight the way your body instinctively leans into his touch, pressing your chest into his hands slightly.
he hums, removing his hands only to push your shirt up to get a look at your bare breasts, the fabric bunching up around your collarbone as he leans in closer to inspect your assets.
"toji!" you gasp in complaint, trying to push down the instinct to cover yourself up from your roommate's intense gaze. but when your hands fly up to guard your chest, he instantly grabs your wrists, making you freeze.
"ah ah," he chides with a smug smirk, easily moving both of your wrists into one hand while the other reaches out to fondle your breasts. "no need to be shy. ya got a nice pair of juicy tits right here."
his compliment is so lewd, and even with the way you attempt to wriggle your wrists free from his grip, he effortlessly keeps them trapped with one strong hand.
toji squeezes and kneads the supple flesh of your breasts, laving both with equal attention as he feels up every inch of skin available to him. he can't believe his little roommate has been hiding these pretty tits from him all this time.
when he leans down to pop one into his mouth, you let out a strangled gasp which quickly morphs into an almost pornographic moan when he starts to gently suckle at your highly sensitive nipple.
"shit." you manage to push out, your breaths becoming increasingly more erratic as he starts to flick his rough tongue over your perked bud. you can feel rather than hear the raspy chuckle he lets out at your reaction.
"so damn sensitive," toji rumbles as he pulls back from your breast, which is now shiny and slick with his salvia, before moving to the other. "y'like that, huh?"
it takes you a few moments to form a coherent response, your mind suddenly feeling unable to focus on anything other than the way he's practically making out with your chest. "y-yeah."
toji's smirk widens in a grin at your stammered words, clearly finding enjoyment in the way your body is reacting to his every touch. "bet ya do. poor thing, graduated college and still never been properly touched."
you let out an indignant huff, annoyance momentarily taking over your pleasure. damn it, why did he always have to mock you at any given opportunity? you're starting to wish you never told him about your virginity.
he snorts again at your huff, removing his mouth from your breast with a long, stringy trail of salvia connecting his lips to your chest. "whatcha huffin' for, girl? thought ya wanted this."
you shoot him another one of your trying-to-be-stern-but-really-just-pouting glares. "i do want this. but i also want you to stop laughing at me the entire time."
he rolls his eyes dramatically, acting as if not laughing at your expense was the most difficult thing he'd been asked to do today. "i'm not laughin' at you, dollface. i'm laughin' at those stupid ass college boys who missed out on having you like this."
before you can even begin to process his words, toji crowds you backwards until the backs of your knees hit the edge of his bed, and you instinctively plop down onto the mattress, looking up at him with wide eyes.
he snickers at your shocked expression, moving forward to stand between your legs. from this position, he towers over you even more than usual, and you have to crane your neck practically all the way back to meet his eyes.
"why so surprised, hmm?" toji drawls, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear in an uncharacteristically gentle touch. "y'think i didn't notice how pretty ya were the first damn day ya moved in?"
you open and close your mouth a few times before managing to pull yourself together enough to speak. "honestly? i kinda figured you didn't pay me much attention — considering how many hookups you bring around here."
he hums in response, moving his hand to grasp your chin and force you to maintain eye contact with him. "so you noticed that, huh?" he grunts, shrugging his shoulders slightly. "they're just distractions, really. i've wanted you for a while, but i assumed ya wouldn't be interested in and old man like me."
you can only raise an eyebrow incredulously at his words, as if he'd just said something ridiculous. "toji, you're so dramatic. you're not that old."
he barks out a loud laugh at this, slowly lowering himself to his knees between your legs. the audible sound of his muscles protesting the movement seems to disprove your words, making you wince. "no need to flatter me, sweets. i know 'm old." he mutters, his smirk still firmly in place.
you open your mouth to argue, but quickly forget whatever you were about to say when toji's large palms start to trail up your thighs, stopping just below the edge of your skirt.
"ya got no panties on too?" he asks teasingly, although you can hear the faint sense of actual curiosity in his tone. however, when his fingers graze against the edge of your lace panties, he huffs. "hmph. you disappoint me."
you roll your eyes at his words. you would've gone pantyless too, but unfortunately the prospect of finally losing your virginity made you so wet that you had to wear them to prevent yourself from dripping on the floor of the apartment.
"you've touched yourself before, i take it?" toji grunts as his hand moves to easily cup your clothed pussy in his palm, his smirk becoming a grin again when he feels how damp the material is.
you suck in a sharp breath, your eyes fluttering in pleasure at the feel of someone else's hand except your own touching your most sensitive area. "y-yeah, i have. but it's..."
toji seems to understand why you trailed off, letting out a hum of acknowledgement as his fingers start to rub little circles against your panties. "but your little fingers can't make you cum right, yeah?"
you can only manage a feeble nod, fighting the urge to start grinding yourself into his hand. he chuckles amusedly at your reaction, his fingers just dipping under the edge of your panties but not quite.
if you were one of his usual hookups, he'd probably be balls deep inside you by now. but you're not — you're his pretty little roommate he's had his eye on for a while, and on top of that, you're a virgin.
he's going to take his sweet time with you.
toji spends what feels like an eternity teasing you through your underwear until you're squirming restless on the edge of his bed before he finally, finally makes direct contact with your pussy.
"shit," he grunts as he swipes his finger through your sopping folds, the digit practically slipping across your slick skin. "you're so damn wet, baby. i've hardly even touched you yet."
you can't stop the pathetic whine that escapes your throat, your cheeks flushed a delightful shade of pink and your eyes half-lidded with need as you look down at him. "please, toji."
fucking hell. he actually has to restrain himself from just pouncing on you right there and then when you beg him so sweetly. instead, he lets out a raspy chuckle, his finger moving down to lazily circle your dripping entrance. "please what, girl? use your words."
"please..." you say again, your voice breathless as you wriggle your hips slightly underneath his hand. "touch me properly."
toji snorts at your phrasing, shaking his head. but before another retort can leave his lips, he's rendered speechless for a moment when he slides a finger into your entrance, your gummy walls instantly sucking him in.
"jesus," he mutters hoarsely, yanking your panties to the side with his other hand to get an unobstructed view of the way your little pussy flutters around his finger. "what a pretty fuckin' cunt."
you let out what can only be described as a mewl at his words, and the noise sounds foreign to your own ears. god, what is he doing to you?
he groans low in his throat at the sound you make, moving his finger around inside of you as gently as he can and brushing the thick digit against your spongy walls.
it should be illegal, really, how quickly toji manages to find your sweet spot. he's had a single finger inside your pussy for just under a minute, and the calloused pad of his digit is already grazing your sensitive g spot.
"ah!" you practically sob, your thighs instinctively clenching around his beefy arm. you've never felt such an intense spark of pleasure before — it's obvious you never managed to find that spot before when you attempted to get yourself off.
he grins smugly, brushing his finger over the spot again, almost touching it but not quite enough to properly stimulate you. "that's the spot, ain't it, dollface?" the question is rhetorical. you both know that's the spot.
but before you can start grinding yourself down onto his finger, he abruptly pulls it out, admiring the way the digit is now coated in your shiny slick.
you open your mouth to protest, or beg for more, or something, but all rational thoughts leave your mind when you see toji slip his finger into his mouth, sucking your juices from it with a low grunt.
"damn, that's good," he mutters gruffly, almost to himself, as he slides it out of his mouth with a lewd pop! — his eyes then fall back on your glistening pussy, his pupils dilated considerably more than before.
in a matter of moments, toji's slid your ruined panties down your legs, admiring the sticky mess soiled there before shamelessly shoving them in his pocket of his sweatpants.
"hey!—" you huff half-heartedly, but before you can even think of finishing the sentence, toji's chapped lips are placing a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses up your thighs.
"mmph," you moan softly, not bothering to protest as he slides your thighs further apart with his palms, his lips nibbling against the supple skin of your inner thighs, undoubtably leaving small marks that will bloom tomorrow.
"wanna eat you," toji murmurs once he's face to face with your pussy, his hot breaths puffing across your sensitive skin and visibly making your little clit twitch impatiently. "can i eat you, dollface?"
you crease your eyebrows a little in confusion at his request. from what you'd heard from your college friends, guys hated performing oral for girls. but the way toji was staring hungrily at your cunt, his tongue swiping across his dry lips, made you think he would simply laugh at you again if you told him that.
"o-okay," you mutter sheepishly. and the second the agreement leaves your lips, toji's burying his entire face against your heat, groaning into your pussy as he rubs his sharp nose up and down your sopping folds.
when he first slides his rough tongue across your sensitive skin, you swear you go cross-eyed for a full moment before regaining control of yourself. it's like nothing you've ever felt before, wet and warm and so deliciously lewd.
"fuckin' sweeter than candy," toji grunts against your skin, the vibrations causing your body to instinctively attempt to wriggle away. but he's not having it, his beefy arms wrapping around your thighs to keep you in place. "ah ah, no runnin', baby."
while before you might've tried to argue a little in protest, your brain has already turned to mush from just his finger and his tongue, so you can only let out a few unintelligible murmurs.
"yeahhh," he snorts as he continues to sloppily lap at your folds, gathering as much of your syrupy slick on his tastebuds as possible. "don't hear none of that backtalk now."
god, he's so messy with it. you can hardly manage to keep your eyes open to gaze at him, but when you do, it only makes your pleasure heighten to new levels.
you've never seen your roommate so focused on anything before — not even those storage wars shows he likes to shout at on the tv. his eyes are half-lidded, his thick fingers are digging into your thighs so hard you can visibly see the marks forming, and his tongue is ruthless as it delves in and out of your dripping hole.
"t-toji, shit. feels so good," you manage to stammer out, your head thrown back and your hands traveling up to tangle in his messy dark hair without thinking, tugging on it gently.
your action draws a raspy chuckle from low in toji's throat, and his sloppy, shameless tongue seems to speed up even more in response. you vaguely register a glob of saliva landing on your pussy, but just as quick as it falls there, he's already licking it back up. "c'mon, girl, i know you can pull harder than that."
you attempt to tug his dishevelled strands harder, but your hands feel weak, and your thighs are starting to shake slightly around his head. you notice a familiar spring coiling in the depths of your stomach, but it feels more intense than any build-up to an orgasm you've given yourself before.
"t-think i'm close." you gasp out, your mouth hanging open as you try and keep your body from collapsing back against the mattress. he's quick to help, his hands sliding up the back of your skirt to support your back.
toji hums in satisfaction, a shit-eating (or, in this case, a pussy-eating) grin spreading across his lips as he continues to devour you, his tongue repeatedly massaging your g spot.
it feels like he's trying to eat you whole, and it's completely overwhelming in the best way possible.
"yeah?" he mutters against your cunt, wrapping his lips around your puffy, swollen clit and sucking the sensitive bud harshly. "go on then, baby. cum for me."
it feels like a part of you was instinctively waiting for his permission, because the second those words leave his mouth, your entire body starts convulsing in his strong arms, a strangled cry leaving your open mouth as you orgasm.
your earlier suspicion was right, because this is the hardest you've ever cum before in your entire life. (not that there's really much competition). your limbs feel all tingly and airy, and there aren't really many thoughts left in your mind except from toji, toji, toji.
"hmmph," toji grumbles, pulling back from your cunt after he's sure every bit of your sweet release is down his throat. he looks up at you, snickering gruffly at the utterly dumb look across your features.
you look completely fucked out already, and he hasn't even fucked you yet. that's what happens when you make a deal with a virgin, he assumes.
while you attempt to come down from your high, toji shifts slightly, his knees aching slightly from spending so long on the floor. but even worse than that, is the raging erection he has straining against the material of his sweatpants.
it's been there since he started kissing you, and it's only gotten progressively worse as the time stretched on. he's so hard now that it actually hurts, and the small stain of pre-cum darkening the front makes him feel like a damn teenager again.
toji gets to his feet, ignoring the way his stiff muscles protest, and sheds his sweats and his boxers in one swift movement, kicking them somewhere across the room. he makes his way between your legs, spreading them even further apart to make room for his body.
"wait..." you mumble dazedly, your words adorably slurred as you blink lazily up at him, reaching out a hand as if silently asking for something. "don't y'want me to return the favour first?"
he snorts, although it makes something inside him warm the slightest bit at your consideration. "nah, dollface. you're paying me, not the other way 'round, yeah?"
your pouty expression from earlier returns, but before you can argue further, your eyes fall on his cock, which you only just notice is free from his sweatpants. it's bigger than any you've seen videos of online before, with a prominent vein running down the length and pearly rivulets of pre-cum leaking from the pudgy tip.
your mouth falls into a small 'o' shape, a sudden sense of dread filling you at the mere thought of trying to take that inside of you. why did you have to make this deal with someone who has such an unnecessarily large dick?
toji chuckles deeply at your reaction, cocking his head to the side with a smug smirk. "what? don't tell me you're g'nna chicken out on me now, sweets?"
you could just smooth down your skirt, hand him your credit card as payment for what he's done for you already, and walk right out of his room the way you came in.
but you don't. you've come too far already to back out now — you're this close to finally losing your virginity.
"no," you murmur meekly, swallowing thickly and tearing your eyes away from his cock and meeting his eyes again. "i don't wanna stop. it's just... is that thing really gonna fit in me?"
he barks out an amused laugh at this, his rough palms on your thighs squeezing in what's probably his way of giving you a reassuring gesture. "it'll fit, baby. i loosened you up a little already, so that'll help."
"okay," you mutter, your eyes flickering back down as he wraps a large hand around the meaty base of his cock, lining it up with your entrance and rubbing it along your puffy folds, gathering some of your creamy slick on the head. "is it gonna hurt? it's gonna hurt, isn't it?"
toji huffs at your hurried rambling, leaning his head down to shut you up with a quick kiss to your lips. "it'll only hurt at the start," he grunts in as soothing a tone as he can muster, bracing a hand against the headboard above you.
this seems to ease your nerves, if only a little, and you nod in a sign of silent permission. but he doesn't appear satisfied with this, and he grasps your chin with his free hand. "that ain't good enough, dollface. use your words f'me."
"y-you can start now." you murmur in response, your eyes glued to the way the muscles in his arm flex above you as he begins to slowly push himself in.
"fuckin' shit," he groans, the sound more guttural than anything he's let out so far as his cock breaches the first ring of muscle inside of you, his beefy arm visibly shaking as he tries to hold himself back from just plunging all the way in. "so damn tight in here."
your face contorts into a grimace as a rush of pain pangs through your body, your hands clutching at the sheets for purchase. you'd heard about it hurting online, but then again, most people didn't take a cock as big as toji's for their first time.
"sorry, babydoll." he mutters hoarsely, his gruff tone holding an underlying tone of genuine sympathy instead of the amusement he's shown so far — he's clearly aware of the strain he's having on your body.
he gives you a few moments to adjust to the intrusion, gritting his teeth to hold back any sounds that threaten to spill out of his mouth when he feels your cunt clenching and unclenching around him.
"you can keep going now," you manage to say, your eyes screwed shut and your hands fisted in the bedcovers as you try to deal with the pain. "i'm okay."
he grunts in response, the hand that was around your chin moving to grasp one of your balled up hands as he continues to sink himself inside inch by inch. he can feel how hard you squeeze his hand the entire time, probably cutting off the circulation to his arm in the process.
but he couldn't care less about that. not when he so close to finally being balls deep inside of his pretty little roommate.
"biiiig stretch." toji hums, a low, drawn out sound, when he finally feels himself bottom out, your spongy walls contracting and fluttering around him as if they can't decide whether to push the intrusion out or pull it in deeper. "there we go."
you, on the other hand, couldn't manage to string together a single syllable. it feels like toji has buried himself into your guts, like he's physically rearranging your anatomy right before your eyes.
toji lets his own eyes flutter shut for a moment, his adam's apple bobbing as he swallows thickly. he knows you need a while to adjust to taking all of him, but damn if he doesn't want to pound you into the mattress right now.
you let out a strangled groan, wriggling around against the covers as your body stretches to accommodate his sheer size. it feels like he could split you in half without much effort. "p-please... start moving, toji."
"you sure?" he rasps gruffly, his hand gripping the headboard so hard his knuckles have gone completely white. "once i start i prolly won't be able to stop."
"i-i don't care. just..." you begin, unable to even finish the thought when he shifts slightly, unintentionally pushing into you even deeper. "move."
he snorts at your desperation, but the sound turns into something akin to a growl when he pulls out slightly, before shoving himself right back in all the way.
"ah!" you sob pathetically, clinging onto his hand even tighter as he starts to shallowly thrust into you. shit, you're pretty sure you just felt something inside of you snap.
you're officially no longer a virgin.
"yeahhh." toji grunts above you, his lips spreading into a pussydrunk grin as he moves he moves his hips leisurely but expertly. you're starting to understand why his hookups always cry his name so loud through the thin walls separating your rooms.
the initial pain slowly starts to fade, being replaced by an overwhelming sense of pleasure and fullness. you bring your shaky legs up to wrap around his beefy back, your ankles locking against his skin.
"jesus, girl," he groans, his hips subtly stuttering in their pace in response to your actions. "y'er pullin' me in even deeper."
you open your mouth to apologize, or retort, or something, but it comes out as a slurred garble when you feel toji's fat cockhead brush against your cervix.
"uh huhh." he grins smugly, his hand that was interlaced with yours moving down to grip your hip and keep you in place as he quickens his pace slightly. he's being a little gentler than he usually would be just for you, but this is still toji here.
"t-too much!" you cry out, reaching up to grasp onto his bicep above you for some sort of support. your entire body is jolting against the covers in response to his increasingly hard thrusts, your mouth hanging open dumbly.
"nah, dollface," he grunts in protest, his fingers digging into the skin of your hip as if to ground you. "i know y'can take it. doing so damn well f'me."
toji brings his palm up from your hip to slide under your previously bunched up shirt, fondling your breasts and rolling one of your hardened nipples between his fingers.
this makes a loud mewl escape from your throat, your cunt clenching around him in response to the dual sensations. if you thought his tongue made you reach new heights of pleasure, his cock is a completely different beast.
you can already feel something strange stirring in the depths of your stomach. it's not like your previous orgasm, it's unfamiliar — it almost feels like you're about to pee.
"t-toji, feels weird," you slur out, squirming against the covers as you try to hold the rising sensation at bay. "like i'm gonna pee or something. m-maybe y'should pull out."
he barks out a laugh at this, as if he knows something you don't. his hand moves down to pat your stomach, right where the prominent bulge of his cock is moving in and out.
"that means you're gonna squirt, baby." he utters simply, making your eyes widen in surprise. now that's something you've definitely never managed to make yourself do before.
looks like you're gonna be ticking off more than one first from the list today.
"makin' ya squirt for y'er first time," he proclaims cockily, smirking to himself as he effortlessly keeps up the languid rolls of his hips. "i'm damn good, ain't i?"
"i haven't even squirted yet." you grumble, heat flooding to your cheeks in response to his teasing. he's still your annoyingly smug roommate, even when he's fucking you into his mattress.
"key word — yet." toji shrugs in response, his lethal thrusts quickening in pace. his rough palm pushes down right above your bulging tummy, causing you to let out a strangled gasp.
your cunt clenches impossibly tighter around him, your ankles digging into the skin of his back as you feel your second orgasm of the night start to wash over you. "fuck. g-gonna..."
"yeah? c'mon, baby, make a mess all on me." he grunts gruffly, his hand moving down to rub lazy, sloppy circles against your puffy clit, the nub pulsing under his touch.
"tojiiii!" you practically sob, the added stimulation sending you hurling over the edge before you can process it. your vision goes completely white with the intensity of your high, your breaths coming in heavy gasps.
"oh, thattt's it," he hums in satisfaction, lightly patting your pussy as he watches the gushes of clear liquid squirt out, lewdly coating the base of his cock and balls in your essence. "fuckin' good girl."
it only takes him a couple more strokes for toji to know he's close too, and he quickly pulls out, slapping his thick cock against the flushed skin of your tummy and giving it a few final jerks.
as much as he'd love to fill you up, he figures that since you're a virgin, you probably wouldn't be on birth control.
and he's not about take that risk.
toji lets out a low, raspy grunt as he spills his creamy, pearlescent cum all over your stomach, tainting the supple skin with his sticky, oozy mess.
he lazily tugs his boxers and sweatpants back up, wiping some sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand before leaning down and giving your cheek a quick, wet kiss.
then he saunters out of the room, leaving you panting and limp on his bed while he rifles through your purse on the living room table.
"i would've done that for free, by the way." toji mutters amusedly as he pulls out your credit card, waving it tauntingly in front of his face with the smuggest grin yet stretching at his lips. "see ya in thirty six hours, dollface."
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© 2024 SUGOROO. please don't copy or translate any of my works without my explicit permission. all rights are reserved to me.
i’d like to dedicate my first proper fic to @screampied because her works inspired me to begin writing my own! <3
LIKES AND REBLOGS APPRECIATED!
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afterglowsainz · 2 days
Text
the great war | max verstappen, lando norris
pairing: max verstappen x reader x lando norris
summary: no one knows that you’re dating max and lando and everyone just assumes the worst
fc: amaya crichton
a/n: p1 and p2 in singapore… you know what that means 🤭
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liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and others
yourusername last few days in the big apple 🗽🍎
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username a rhode girlie yesss
username so chic i love her
username so gorgeous
username the most beautiful 🤩
username ariana what are you doing here 🤣 (max and lando)
username not them liking the same girl 🤣
username jesus is just a like chill
username so gorgeous i wish new york was real 😍
yourusername’s instagram stories
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[caption 1: comfort movie💗] [caption 2: short break🌞]
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liked by landonorris, yourusername and others
maxverstappen1 enjoying summer break ☀️
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username ohhh he’s with lando that’s sweet
username DAMN
username i cannot handle the second pic right now
username he’s so babygirl
landonorris 😎 (liked by maxverstappen1)
username thinking unholy thoughts 😮‍💨
martingarrix 🤪
username both at the same time
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liked by f1wags and others
f1gossip max verstappen and lando norris where seen enjoying the summer break together with friends
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username max 😮‍💨😮‍💨
username barking like a dog
username who’s the girl 😩😩
username wait isn’t that y/n y/l/n?
username yes! i knew i recognized her from somewhere
username who is sheee
username some influencer i think, max and lando had been liking her pictures for a while now
username ahhh she’s very pretty
username im gonna need some context as to how my girl y/n knows max and lando
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liked by maxverstappen1, martingarrix and others
yourusername 🌺🌊🏝
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username BEAUTIFUL
username ughhh the prettiest
username love that bikini
username she seems like a gold digger 😭 get away
username okay i get max and lando
username girl are you with lando? or max? i gotta know 😩
username so mother
username mmm no i don’t like her
username INSANE face card
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liked by maxfewtrell, magui_corceiro and others
landonorris summer days ☀️
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username cute🦦
username max the ultimate wag
username i need someone to look at me the way max looks at lando
username sir the last pic??? who are we trying to soft launch here?
username my boyfriend and his wag 😍
maxverstappen1 😊
landonorris 😚
username no cause this is a totally normal interaction
username who is he soft launching i’m not gonna be able to rest 😩
lnfour 👀
username what do you know ???
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liked by f1wags and others
f1gossip driver max verstappen was seen on a romantic date last night with influencer y/n y/l/n in monaco
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username i hope you’re okay knowing this information killed me
username they’re dating omggg 🥰
username they really look so cute together!
username please say sike right now 😭
username she gives me the WORST vibes i can’t
username you’re just jealous omg he’s and adult he can date whoever he wants
username why does he have such bad taste in women? 🤮
username love them! they look perfect together 😍
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liked by f1wags and others
f1gossip driver lando norris was seen on a romantic date earlier today at the beach with influencer y/n y/l/n in monaco
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username uhmmm what
username 😭😭😭
username is this a joke?
username see how all the girlies that were supporting y/n are very quiet now.
username is she playing both of them? HAH
username i knew she was a gold digger omg
username lando baby stand up
username this is such disgusting behavior honestly 🥱
username she doesn’t deserve any of them
username people can be friends 🤷🏽‍♀️
username bestie look at the pics again they are most definitely NOT friends
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liked by f1gossip, pietra.pilao and others
f1wags influencer y/n y/l/n this weekend at the paddock. it seems she was for a little while in the mclaren garage and then she went to red bull
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username absolutely not 🤢
username can this girl be any more obvious?
username girl keeps swapping omg just pick one! or leave both of them alone!
username who invited her? no one wants her there 😭
username well if she was there someone obviously wanted her to be
username you guys just critize her all the time yet ignore how lando and max where looking at her the whole weekend
username and that’s exactly the reason … why does she have to play with their feelings like that?
username we don’t care!
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liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1 and others
yourusername birthday in austinnnn with my loves🧡💙
tagged landonorris and maxverstappen1
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username oh she clocked everyone and their mothers
username what were y’all bitches saying about her playing them???
username THE HARD LAUNCH ATE
username now those comments between max and lando make more sense 😭
username the hate this girl got and it was all for nothing! she’s beautiful and everyone was just jealous
pietra.pilao happy birthdayyyy 💘 (liked by yourusername)
alexandrasaintmleux happy birthday my y/n!🤍 (liked by yourusername)
username the fact no one thought they could all be dating is CRIMINAL
username hot throuple hot throuple 🚨
maxverstappen1 happy birthday liefje, ik houd van jou❤️ (i love you)
yourusername love you too max❤️
landonorris can’t say i love you in another language but i love you 3000❤️‍🩹
yourusername 😭😭😭 i love you
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maxivstappen · 2 days
Note
congratulations for 1k, you really deserve It !!
for your event: can i ask for a carlos sainz fic based on "break my heart, and I swear i'm moving on with your favorite athlete" by sabrina carpenter in good graces
thanks xx and ily
౨ৎ YOUR FAVORITE ATHLETE ! ‧₊˚.
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౨ৎ 1K EVENT — short n' sweet series (not posted yet) ౨ৎ
pairing — carlos alcaraz x reader / carlos sainz x reader
summary — break my heart and i swear im moving on with your favorite athlete! angst & sweet revenge (again lol)
warnings / disclaimer — none, just my not so perfect Spanish (please correct me)! hope you liked this <3 thank you lots for your support and sorry for my absence - school is really time consuming at the moment :( i'll be updating more frequently again soon — masterlist (not updated sry) / prev. work
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12th of January - TWITTER
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4th of February - @.yourusername ✓ just posted on INSTA !
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liked by landonorris, alexandrasaintmleux and 1,723,981 others
yourusername girls just wanna have fun or whatever 😝 love ya @.alexandrasaintmleux
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user1 omg why did she unfollow carlos?
user2 @.user1 she follows carlos wdym
user3 @.user2 no they mean carlos alcaraz the tennis player, y/n‘s boyfriend (if they’re still together). I suppose you’re an f1 fan?
user2 @.user3 yes haha sorry i didn’t know that, and I don’t watch tennis so that’s why i was confused
alexandrasaintmleux ✓ my only love🥹 never ever leave me again!!
-> ♥️ by @.yourusername ✓
charles_leclerc ✓ @.alexandrasaintmleux what do you mean ‚only love‘?? don’t you think you’re missing someone?
alexandrasaintmleux ✓ @.charles_leclerc so sorry, of course i love my baby leo just as much🥰
charles_leclerc ✓ @.alexandrasaintmleux 😔
user4 oh they’re so HOT
user5 @.user4 CARLOS FUMBLED IF WHAT I‘M THINKING IS TRUE
user6 ONE CHANCE Y/N JUST ONE
landonorris ✓you can finally focus on the better sport now 🙌
-> ♥️ by @.yourusername ✓
user7 @.landonorris WHAT DOES THIS MEANNNNN
user8 @.user7 i think carlitos and her broke up 😭
yourusername ✓@.landonorris only saying that cause i keep beating you at tennis
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5th of February - TWITTER
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。    ✧    ⁺     。
5th of February - TEXTS
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。    ✧    ⁺     。
6th of February - @.yourusername ✓ just posted on INSTA !
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liked by carlitosalcarazz, carlossainz55 and 1,576,971 others
yourusername if i speak i am in trouble 🤭
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landonorris ✓ AHHHHHHH
yourusername ✓ @.landonorris AHHHHHHH
user9 @.landonorris LANDO SPILL
user10 guys alcaraz liked😧
user11 @.user10 HES JELLYYYYYY
alexandrasaintmleux ✓ hope you had the best night ever☺️
yourusername ✓ @.alexandrasaintmleux wasn’t as fun as it would’ve been with you🙂‍↔️
alexandrasaintmleux ✓ @.yourusername let me take you out next time 🤭
carlossainz55 ✓ @.yourusername @.charlesleclerc they’re flirting again😞
charles_leclerc ✓ @.carlossainz55 they will never stop😞
user12 THE LAST PIC
user13 @.user12 MYSTERY GUY SPENT THE NIGHT
user14 @.user13 THATS CARLOS SAINZ
user15 @.user14 i was about to call you delulu but…. i think you’re right
user16 @.user15 guys go get some sleep it’s okay … delulu isn’t always the solulu 😚
user17 HES HOLDING HER SHOES
user18 SOFT LAUNCH BUT WHO TF IS SHE LAUNCHING 🗣️🗣️🗣️🔥🔥🔥
carlossainz55 ✓ ❤️
-> ♥️ by @.yourusername ✓
user19 @.carlossainz55 @.user18 WE KNOW WHO SHES LAUNCHING🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥
user20 @.carlossainz55 OHMYGAWWKDKSKALSKSKS
user21 TENNIS WAG TURNED F1 WAG AND IVE NEVER BEEN HERER FOR IT
user22 @.user21 you’ve never been what?
user23 @.user22 you need to learn matching people’s freak fr😣
。    ✧    ⁺     。
A Couple Weeks Later - TEXTS
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20th of October - @.carlossainz55 ✓ just posted on INSTA !
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liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc and 3,445,912 others
carlossainz55 won the race and got the girl😉 great work from the team (and me)
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yourusername ✓ love you baby
- comments have been disabled -
。    ✧    ⁺     。
20th of October - @.yourusername ✓ just posted a story on INSTA !
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hope you liked it <3 guys please correct my spanish PLEASEEEEE (the question marks are weird like that on purpose because i’m a lazy bitch)
gen / sns taglist :: @norrisdriver @1655clean
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hanbinics · 2 days
Text
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!husband matt hates when another man flirts with his wife.
matt’s waiting for you in the car while you flirt with another man.
he’s noticed it happening before at a few other drop-offs and pick-ups. it’s the same guy every time, his hair sort of messy in a way that he thinks is an attempt at trying to maintain a younger image and his smile far too wide to be considered just kind instead of a little creepy too. matt knows you’d never cheat on him, especially not with this idiot—but that doesn’t mean you won’t toy with him.
his blue eyes are glued to the way you toss your hair over one shoulder, exposing more of the soft skin of your neck as you laugh at whatever stupid fucking thing this stranger has just said to you. he’s sure it isn’t that humorous—and you confirm that when he catches you glancing over your shoulder towards your family car—but it’s enough to have matt gripping the handle of his door to push it open and climb out of his seat regardless.
usually, he doesn’t bother leaving the quiet of the vehicle if he doesn’t have to. he’s never really been all that social, so standing around and listening to other parents chat animatedly about their snot-nosed kids and what amazing things they’re doing at such a young age doesn’t really interest him; it’s probably why you’re so confused when you feel the brush of his long fingers wrapping around your hip.
only, you’re not that surprised. in fact, you can’t help the subtle twitch of a smirk on your mouth when you feel him behind you. you vaguely wonder what set him off—the other man before you eyeing your breasts in the little floral dress you’re wearing, or maybe the way he’s been shifting a little closer to you the longer your conversation goes on. either way, you feel a gentle thrill in the pit of your stomach when you feel your husband brush against your backside.
you don’t have to turn to know it’s him. you can feel it in the brazen way he grips either of your hips, can see it in the way jackson’s eyes widen the slightest bit at the sight of the man behind you. you have to suppress a smile, knowing exactly how your husband must look in the moment—smug, you’re sure. perhaps a little intimidating with those intense blue eyes you adore so much.
head cocked to the side, you raise a brow. “you were saying?” you all but hum in encouragement to the other man, waiting patiently for him to continue despite the silent interruption behind you, fingers digging so snugly into your plush hips.
jackson looks from matt to you, almost like he can’t believe you’re putting him on the spot here. but you feign innocence, furrowing your brow gently as if to say we were only talking about our children, right? it’s the guise he’d approached you under, so backing off now would only allude to ulterior motives, and he isn’t about to do that with the fucking doberman behind you.
an uncomfortable laugh bubbles up from his throat, but it’s cut short when neither of you reciprocate. “no, i was just, ah—” he pauses, an awkward smile on his face as he searches for a safety net. finally, he comes up with one. “i was just saying that it might be nice for our daughters to have a play date some time.”
you can’t help but smile in spite of yourself, a little impressed with his commitment to the act. matt, on the other hand, cocks one eyebrow just as you part your lips to insist that it could be a nice idea.
“which kid is yours?” he asks from behind you, watching as jackon’s face settles into something a little more relieved at your husband’s sudden interest, like maybe he’s gotten off the hook.
“just over there.” the other man points, all eyes shifting to the opening doors of the building your daughter attends dance classes at. “that’s my little willow.” he smiles proudly as you all watch the little girls begin to file out with their instructor, hearing sweet giggles and excited exclaims for their mommies and daddies fill the air.
“huh,” matt huffs shortly, watching as you turn your head slightly to catch his eye, “was she not the one with the biting problem?”
jackson’s eyes widen slightly at the blatant call-out, his face reddening with anger or maybe embarrassment—you aren’t entirely sure. either way, your husband simply hums low in his throat when everybody seems to be at a loss for words, taking that as his response. he doesn’t wait any longer, instead delivering one last firm squeeze to your hip in a silent end to the conversation just as your daughter is barreling towards the both of you, arms spread wide and an excited grin on her face at the sight of her parents.
“there’s daddy’s girl,” matt greets your little one, bending down low to the ground so that he can scoop the excited little bundle into his arms, resting her on his hip as you listen to him ask her about her day while heading back to the car.
you’re thoroughly amused by his ending to the situation. you listen to the brunette hold an animated conversation with your daughter during the drive home, blue eyes bright and engaged with the little life in the backseat, but you know he hasn’t let you off the hook. it’s clear in the way he glances over at you every so often, gaze dropping from your pretty features to the bare skin of your thighs. thinking about the fact that another man had probably checked out all the same things makes a muscle in his jaw twitch.
when you get home, he still doesn’t immediately say anything to you. as soon as your little family is bursting through the front door, you’re promising your daughter an after-school snack and listening to matt insist that she show him a backpack that doesn’t include homework before she’s allowed to go play. the fact that he still hasn’t said anything about what happened allows this anxious feeling to creep into your body, but it’s not entirely unpleasant—it’s almost thrilling.
still, it doesn’t compare to the feeling of matt’s lips on your neck, hands braced on either side of the kitchen counter you’re currently caged in against, the hand that had been pouring a glass of tea suddenly shaking slightly with your new position. almost immediately, you tilt your head to the side, allowing him more access to the skin there.
“knew you wouldn’t be able to hold out much longer,” you quip, a small smirk on your lips as you set the teapot down, your drink long forgotten.
your husband nips at your skin spitefully. “how could i? seems like my wife needs a reminder about who she belongs to after letting that guy eye-fuck you back there.” his mouth is growing greedier in its pursuit of your skin, and you’re pretty sure you can feel a purple bruise beginning to bloom across the area he’d just nipped at.
you pout at his accusation. “i wouldn’t say i let him,” you argue, but your breath hitches in your throat when you feel his teeth graze your skin again, one hand abandoning the granite countertop to roam your thighs instead.
you decide to push your luck. “besides, looking never hurt anyone...”
matt snarls against you, nose brushing along your neck as he uses his free hand to slide up your torso until he reaches the soft flesh of your chest, squeezing your left breast in his large hand and eliciting a quiet gasp from your mouth.
“yeah?” he breathes into your hair, the hand that’s been brushing along your inner thighs suddenly moving higher, taking the fabric of your dress along with it. “what was his name again? jackson?” he asks tauntingly, daring you to confirm his question.
you want to say something snarky in return, maybe tease him and say you don’t remember, but any coherent thoughts leave your brain the minute that your husband gathers the fabric of your panties in his hand, creating a thinner band of it nestled between your lips before he’s pushing it to the side entirely, his middle finger teasing your slit.
“tell me, sweetheart,” matt hums into your ear, his crotch pressed into your ass as he toys with your slick cunt, “do you think about jackson’s fingers in your pussy?”
as if to accentuate his question, he dips two wet fingers into your awaiting hole, eagerly swallowing the digits as your mouth falls open at the sudden pleasure, stomach jumping into your throat. he doesn’t even allow you the chance to respond, adding to the stimulation by teasing your puffy nipple with his other hand after pulling your dress down enough to expose your cleavage.
suddenly matt pulls his fingers from you, delivering a wet slap to your sensitive pussy that has you yelping in surprise. “answer me.”
“no—no, i don’t, baby,” you ramble, shaking your head fervently. “only think about you inside me, only you.” you can’t help the way you press your ass back against him, trying to find some friction there and offer a little bit to the growing bulge you can feel in his pants, but matt is quick to release your chest in favor of delivering a quick slap to your ass in retaliation.
“don’t get fuckin’ greedy,” he reprimands you, although he does ease two fingers back into you, groaning softly at the way you suck him in almost immediately.
you moan at the feeling of him inside you once again, your knees nearly buckling at the way he begins to fuck you with his fingers. “matt,” you gasp, your tone bordering on pleading now, “need your cock, baby, not just your fingers.”
but the brunette simply snorts despite the labored breaths he’s panting near your ear. “yeah? think you deserve it, huh?” he sneers at you, hips grinding into your ass he uses you to ease a bit of the tension there. “well i think you should probably be a little more apologetic for bein’ a fuckin’ attention-seeking brat if you want my dick, sweetheart.”
your instinct is to frown at his name-calling, but it’d simply be for show. you love the cruel edge to his voice, and he knows it. on top of it, you can’t form the correct words when you feel his fingers plowing your greedy cunt, sucking him in so eagerly as he angles his wrist so that his calloused palm is pressing into your clit, grinding into the swollen nub. the combination of the two is so overwhelming that you can feel this intense, tight knot growing in your abdomen, like you might just burst at the seams, and you’re quick to let him know.
“oh—fuck, baby please slow down,” you cry out as quietly as you can to him, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. “’m gonna come, matt, please.” but as soon as you plead your case, everything stops.
your knees seem to give out as soon as matt pulls his fingers from your pussy with an embarrassingly wet sound effect, your body all but collapsing against the counter to support your trembling figure. your breathing is labored as you try to come to terms with what happened, as you try to collect yourself, only then realizing the fact that matt has just fucking edged you.
you feel the brunette’s lips brush over the bare skin of your shoulder just before he’s pulling away from you, your eyes wide with bewilderment as you watch him retreat. you can hear your daughter calling for her daddy from her bedroom, insisting that he come play with her, and you can only watch as your husband sticks two long fingers in his mouth—the same fingers that had just been inside you—and sucks them clean of your arousal like he’s just finished the last of his favorite fucking dessert.
“’m comin’, baby,” matt calls out to your daughter, already beginning to walk out of the kitchen.
the walls of your pussy are still fluttering now that there’s a void where his fingers just were, and you feel like you’re damn near on the brink of tears from your orgasm denial. but as you watch him disappear around the corner, your heart flips in your chest at his next words, your selfish cunt throbbing gently.
“hey princess, what do you think about going to visit grandma and grandpa tonight?”
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charliemwrites · 1 day
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Part 12 SpecGru reader!!
No content warnings for this chapter.
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You mull over your captain’s words in the hours before dinner. Sitting behind Nova in her temporary room, Doctor Who’s opening theme warbling from your laptop’s speakers. You gently work oil into her scalp, following the precise alleys formed by her braids.
It’s a soothing ritual, not just for her, but for you. An act of care for a woman who’s been so kind and patient with you. Who always stood her ground on your worst days, and never allowed herself to be goaded into a useless argument. She’s warm beneath your fingers, soft against your chest, the scent of coconut and cinnamon sweet in your nose.
Slowly, you begin to card through memories you put great care into neglecting.
The day you left the hospital, feeling more pathetic than you ever had in your life. A packet of care instructions folded over in one hand. You remember the way Gaz hadn’t quite looked you in the eye, mouth tight and regretful at the corners. Almost guilty. Even when he handed over a bag of fresh clothes, saying he was glad to see you on your feet.
Did you know then? Was there some twinge of foreshadowing in your gut? Did you hear a foreboding whisper in your mind, of how the following twenty-four hours would devolve?
Maybe you did or maybe hindsight is a liar.
What really stands out, even after all this time, is how betrayed you felt (still feel) when you reflect on that interaction with Gaz. That the best he offered was a weak warning that Ghost and Price were pissed off at you. The hurt that he didn’t even ask how you felt before disappearing for the rest of that awful day. You never saw him after your initial discharge, he might as well have borrowed his lieutenant’s namesake.
And then there was Johnny.
Soap, who made himself perfectly visible, if only to express how pissed off he was. He never bothered to ask how you were doing either – didn’t even seem relieved to see you conscious and in one piece. He was tight-jawed and tense; the few times he deigned to speak to you was clipped and terse.
When you finally left, you remember how your chest ached, knowing (intending) you’d never see his thousand-watt smile again. A fair few of your tears on that flight had been in self-deprecation for expecting anything but his total, unwavering loyalty to Simon. It stung that for all his crowing about being a team, looking out for each other, no one left behind – he couldn’t spare you a crumb of forgiveness for a mistake in the field.
Price and Ghost had almost made sense, really. But Gaz and Soap had been a peculiar sort of pain. Your fellow sergeants, who had made you feel welcome and comfortable in the beginning – who had been the bridge and buffer between you and your intimidating superiors. And maybe it wasn’t their fault that you never quite felt like you had a seat at their table, but they’d tried.
Still… at least you can look at them. You can’t imagine opening your mouth to face Price or Ghost and anything but acid pouring out.
“What’s on your mind, babes?”
You blink, palms automatically cradling Nova’s head as she tilts it back to peer at you. On autopilot, you dip down to kiss her forehead, then the gentle curve of her lips.
“Hmm?”
“Don’t get me wrong, the massage is nice,” she teases, “but you’ve gone over my whole head at least twice now.”
“Oh,” you intone, swiping your thumb behind her ear. “Just thinkin’ is all.”
“I can tell,” she giggles, “there’s practically smoke comin’ outta your ears.”
You grimace a bit, arms lowering down to circle her shoulders in a hug. She curls her clever, slender fingers around your forearm, tracing soft patterns with her blunt nails.
“Sorry, love,” you mumble, flicking your eyes to the screen. Realize you’ve only got a vague idea of what’s going on. “I’m being a bad date.”
“You’re not,” she insists, squeezing your wrist. “This s’all been a lot, yeah? I just don’ want you being on your own in there.”
She taps two fingers against your temple. You used to spend all your time alone in your own head. Not because it was safe – it wasn’t – but it was familiar. It took her and the rest of the team concerted effort to pry anything of value from you.
Now, you muster up an appreciative smile as you nuzzle into her hand.
“I’ve just been trying to decide…”
She pauses the show and wriggles to get a better look at your face, hums for you to continue.
“If I should try talking to the 141,” you continue. “Cap said I should consider it. See if we can put all that old shit to rest.”
“Do you want to put it to rest?”
“I should.”
“But do you want to?”
The question brings you up a bit short. Being mad is easy. You’ve been mad at them for so long, one step short of loathing, that you’ve settled into the feeling. Dug your heels in. It’s an easy way to put a stopper on all the complicated hurt lying beneath.
“I want to talk to them the same way I want to go to the dentist,” you muse.
She picks up what you aren’t saying.
“You don’t want to, but you know it’s healthier if you do.”
You grunt, still too proud to admit it outright.
“The wound closed over, but it never healed properly,” she says. “Maybe you’ve got to reset it, yeah?”
You sigh. “Yeah. Just not sure where to start.”
She shrugs. “Wherever you want to. Do it on your own terms. Only way you’ll be able to stomach them.”
You chuckle. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”
“’Course I am,” she chirps. “I’m used to navigating bad weather.”
You nip at her fingers, prompting a bright peel of laughter as she tries to squirm away. As you wrestle her back into your lap, your nerves soften and settle.
Even if you excise this wound, you know you won’t be left bleeding alone. Not ever again.
You haven’t come to any concrete decision after dinner. Not that anyone asks. Nova isn’t one to push and your captain has already said his piece. You haven’t told Nikto or Keegan about your dilemma yet, and you’re not sure if you will.
Nikto’s take on the situation isn’t obvious – though if you had to guess, it would be similar to Nova’s. But Keegan? You already know what his answer would be.
Of anyone in SpecGru, he had to work the hardest to earn even an iota of warmth from you. He reminded you too much of Ghost – and how could he not? The perpetual mask, the sharp one-liners. Gruff and closed off, frighteningly capable, and a crack shot with a sniper rifle to boot.
It used to take everything in you to pull your punches during spars. The rare instances that you would agree to eat with your new team were never if Keegan was present. And more than once, you walked into the rec room, saw his looming figure, and turned right back around.
The only time you could stand to look at him was during missions, but your captain was always sure to receive a killer glare if he paired the two of you together.
Keegan was your partner on the mission that changed things.
It had been a week straight of shit sleep and bad memories, sick on loneliness and anger. When boots hit the ground, you stormed right in, eager to prove to yourself (but really, to them) that you were valuable. Didn’t wait for Keegan, but that had never stopped him from keeping pace with you before.
You didn’t clear your corners, got sloppy and hasty.
Took two stab wounds before Keegan shot the hostile in the temple. When he tried to call the others, you demanded that he finish the mission first. Would have rather bled out than be the reason another mission failed.
The pain and blood loss dragged you under as soon as you choked out the demand.
Then, Keegan’s face was the first thing you saw in the hospital room. Not the mask, him.
Even with dirt and black paint smudging his face, you could see the dark, worried circles beneath his eyes. Could read regret in his angular jaw, relief in the slant of his scarred mouth. For the first time, you looked in his eyes and saw more than an echo of your former lieutenant.
You saw your teammate. The partner you’d left to fend for himself because you’d been handicapped by your own pride. You saw Keegan.
“Did you finish the mission?” you rasped.
He frowned, but your captain stepped forward. “He did – once we were there to stop the bleeding.”
You never saw Ghost in the weave of his mask again.
And soon after, Keegan was the first person you opened up to about the 141.
It was that very same week. You’d been sick on shame and embarrassment, using your injuries to nurse your wounded ego. Skipping meals in exchange for raiding your snack drawers and moping in your cot.
Keegan hadn’t made himself scarce after your discharge. None of your team had, really – but he’d made a point of checking on you. And lacking your usual sharpness, he hadn’t been deterred by your comparatively mild standoffishness either.
Which was how you found yourself stubbornly tucked into the corner of your cot one night, while Keegan sewed the holes in your shirt. He kept shooting you amused looks – probably because you hadn’t taken your eyes off him once. Half wondering why he was there, half waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“You gonna say something, or you just glare all night?” he drawled eventually.
You narrowed your eyes. “Do you plan to stay all night?”
He shrugged, but his eyes flicked to yours, the corner of his mouth ticking up. (No mask. He hadn’t worn one around you since the hospital. Not unless people outside your team were around.)
“If you’ll have me. Been meaning to get you caught up on the show we’ve been watching.”
You huffed, frustrated. “Why?”
He arched his brows at you, needle paused. “Because I like you, despite your best efforts.”
You stared, a little appalled, a little touched. Keegan just chuckled and went right back to mending your shirt. You drew your knees up tighter and hid your quivering mouth with your arms.
“Cap says your last team was shit to you,” he said into your sullen silence.
You scowled. He put a hand up as if in surrender.
“He hasn’t said more’n that, don’t worry,” he continued, “I’m just sayin’… I don’t take any of it personal. You’re a good teammate, I trust you with more than my six.”
Why, you wanted to demand, flabbergasted and all the guiltier because you knew you didn’t deserve it. Why did he trust you? Why was he so patient? Why was he there at all?
You sniffled, but he just kept talking.
“I want to return the favor, ya know? I’m not askin’ you to trust me after the mission, but you don’t gotta be on your own either.”
You were crying quietly by that point, face so hot that your tears felt cold, stomach aching from more than stab wounds. He finally looked up, saw how you were falling apart. But he didn’t shy away, didn’t close himself off. It wasn’t pity or sympathy that softened his eyes.
“The shit you and I carry, we’re not meant to do it alone, sweets.”
And what else could you do, but spill your sorry guts?
You remember the expression on his face when you got to the part about Ghost. Remember how tightly he held you on your cot, all the distance (emotional and physical) closed between you two. Remember waking up the next morning, Netflix still open on your laptop and flopped gracelessly over Keegan’s stomach like a childhood sleepover.
You couldn’t have iced him out again even if you wanted to, after that.
No, there’s no question what Keegan would tell you, if you asked about talking to the 141. He would say there’s no good reason to waste oxygen on a single one of them.
So, you don’t ask.
You climb into his lap in your temporary room that evening, peeling his mask up and off with slow hands. His eyes are already half-lidded, the corner of his mouth curved fondly. His hands spread across your thighs, warm and rough. The scar twisting across his left palm is sweetly familiar when he draws it along your skin.
“I’m going to try talking to the 141,” you admit.
His jaw twitches, eyes flickering. “Now why the hell would you do that?”
You sigh, curl your fingers into the brassy crop of hair he’s been growing out. He’s got a quick temper, and a habit of misplacing it when it’s been triggered by something out of his control. You don’t take it personally, you never have – it’s gratifying to see how much he cares.
“There’s no good reason to waste oxygen on a single one of ‘em,” he growls.
“There might be.”
He sits back, skeptical but waiting.
You continue, “I’ve got a lot of shit to say to them, and they seem eager to hear it.”
“Why give ‘em the satisfaction?” he asks.
“Maybe it’ll help with the nightmares.” That gives him pause. You draw your thumb soothingly across his temple – a bullet graze from saving your life. “We’ve got too much shit to carry, you and me. Unloading some of it is as good a reason as any.”
His hand drifts up your side, grazes the tattoo coiling down your arm. (The second you ever got – a big piece that took hours, Keegan never leaving your side. Nikto, Nova, and your captain periodically dropping in to provide snacks and water.)
He cups your jaw, guides your face down until your foreheads touch. You stay there, breathing him in. He smells like yours.
“What if they make it worse, huh?” His thumb caresses over your cheekbone the way it has a dozen times before, wiping away tears. “I’ll have to kill ‘em.”
You huff softly, amused. “Then kill ‘em. But I’m stronger than I was, Kee. There’s nothing they can weigh me down with that I can’t carry.”
“I know,” he whispers, tilting his chin to drop a sweet, aching kiss on your lips.
“Besides, I wouldn’t be carrying it alone anymore.”
His expression lightens, pride shining from his eyes. “Damn right.”
It’s nearly midnight when you wake from a light doze. Keegan is snoring softly, an arm and leg each hanging over the side of the bed. Your mouth is dry, but you realize it’s your stomach that woke you – pangs of hunger from picking at your dinner earlier. You need to eat.
Quiet and careful, you crawl out from beneath the sheets. Keegan is a heavy sleeper compared to the nearly supernatural senses of Nikto; he hardly stirs as you pad for the door. The hall lights are dim, but you only open it a crack to slip out.
The hall is quiet, no lights on beneath any of the other doors. You hope that means the rest of your team is sleeping peacefully. If you remember right, Nikto and Nova crawled in with your captain this evening. They’re all in good company if nightmares creep in; you pray Keegan doesn’t have any while you’re up.
Thankfully, the rec room is only two halls away. Light is spilling out as you turn the corner – there’s a sensor that shuts them off if no movement is detected for a while. Someone is either in there now or was recently. You half hope it’s the latter, but that doesn’t deter you from entering.
Your surprised to find Soap leaning against the kitchenette counter, a steaming mug in hand. His expression is flat, grim. Tired. You pause just inside the doorway.
“Might as well come in,” he says, voice low and rough. “I’ll clear out in a mo’.”
Even from where you’re standing, you can see that his cup is mostly full.
You exhale and shake your head. “Don’t have to.”
“How gracious,” he rasps, brows twitching like he wants to scowl. Like he can’t quite commit to being as bitter as he should be.
You’re too tired for your usual acid, as well. Just sigh and reach for the fridge door.
“Is that how you want this conversation to go?” you ask.
“Is this a conversation?” he replies.
You pluck out a yogurt cup. “It can be.”
He’s glaring into his coffee now, index finger tapping at the ceramic. Thinking. Or maybe just leashing all the things he wants to say but knows will drive you right back out.
“Why now?” he says finally.
You shrug. “Because I’m ready now.”
A tendon in his jaw twitches. “That’s not fair.”
A hot flicker of anger ignites in your chest. You tamp it down with a spoonful of yogurt, measuring out your words and tone.
“How do you reckon?” you inquire.
“You left,” he says. It’s been a while, but you can detect the hurt underlying the accusation. You suspect it’s something he’s wanted to say for a long time. “You left us behind.”
You click your teeth off your spoon, take a deep breath. It’s factually true. You are the one that left but—
“I wasn’t going to wait for you all to kick me out officially.”
He finally raises his eyes, a dark storm of emotion swirling within them.
“We wouldnae have.”
You tilt your head, cynicism in the flat line of your mouth. “Didn’t seem that way to me.”
“I ken you and Simon were—”
“Don’t.”
His mouth snaps shut, brows furrowed. You point at him with your spoon warningly but bite back the sharp remark on your tongue. Arguing isn’t the point here.
Settle instead to say, “Don’t speak for the others.”
There’s a beat of silence as he digests that, then finally nods. “Alright. Just you ‘n me then.”
You turn back to your yogurt, swipe up another spoonful as you reorganize your thoughts.
“I didn’t leave because of Ghost,” you begin. “Not entirely. I left because I was never part of the team. And what happened after that mission just… made it all very clear.”
Soap frowns, opens his mouth like he wants to deny it, but you hold up a finger to stop him. He takes a long sip of coffee and waits.
“You didn’t check on me at all. You weren’t there when I woke up. You never asked if I was okay,” you continue. “You were too busy being angry on Ghost’s behalf.”
“You almost got the both of you killed,” he argues.
“But you cared more about Ghost almost being hurt than the fact that I was,” you say. And dammit, you feel your sinuses burning, but your eyes stay blessedly dry. The anger disappears from his face all at once as realization sinks in. “I mattered to you less than Ghost.”
His hand tightens around his mug, knuckles blanching. “No. No, lass, tha’s no’… you were always… you survived.”
“I felt the worst I ever had in my life, but you didn’t care because I crossed the almighty Ghost,” you insist.
“I cared about you,” he denies.
“But not more than you did about Ghost.” You drag your gaze up to his. Even his eyes look a little wet now. “And that… that wasn’t enough for me.”
You suck in a shuddering breath, trying to loosen the tightness in your chest. Clear your throat once you feel the threatening prick of tears subside.
“I didn’t… it wasnae that,” he rasps. “I ken you think I’m full of shite, but ‘s true.”
You do think he’s full of shit. Maybe not on purpose, maybe he really does think he cared about you as much as Ghost, but you know better.
“I was just… so angry wi’ you,” he explains. “You could have died. Nearly got Simon killed, all because you thought you knew better.”
You exhale hard. “You’ve never made a bad call?” you challenge.
“It wasnae your call to make. You should have listened to Ghost. Instead, you—”
“I what?”
Your fingers tingle, numb. Can’t even feel the spoon, or the chill of the yogurt cup anymore.
“You disobeyed orders, it was so—”
“I didn’t.”
He stops. Stares. “What?”
You stare right back, “I didn’t disobey orders.”
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hii do you write for franco? if yes can i request a fic where reader is short and insecure about her height so she’s afraid their relationship won’t survive his “f1 career” cause of the lifestyle and all the girls he’s going to meet so despite really loving him she tries to breakup with him but he won’t let her?
tell me that you’re still mine, tell me that we’ll be just fine 𖦹 FC43
PAIRINGS: franco colapinto x female!reader
SUMMARY: when you found out that franco will be racing for williams racing, you were so proud of him. though at the back of your mind, you can’t help but overthink about your relationship with him now that he’s finally in f1.
AUTHOR’S NOTE: hi! thank you so much for sending your request. it’s my first time writing for franco, but i really had fun. i hope you’ll like this one and it’s up to what you were expecting. enjoy! :)
REMINDERS: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.
WORD COUNT: 1.6k
WARNINGS: not proofread, typos, insecurities (mostly comparing self to others), cursing, low self esteem, overthinking, anxiety, and no use of y/n
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As you stand in the Williams garage, you can clearly hear the hum of the whole circuit buzzing all around, and you can’t help but feel so proud. Franco had just achieved what he had been dreaming of since childhood—his first official race in Formula 1. It should have been one of the happiest moments of your life, watching him stand there, helmet in hand, chatting animatedly with the engineers, that wide grin plastered on his face. You knew how hard he worked for this, how many nights you spent listening to his dreams, encouraging him through the frustrations of karting, and celebrating every win, every milestone. You were there through it all, and here he was now—your Franco, living his dream.
However, alongside the pride that you were feeling, a bitter feeling also crept in. It had been lurking at the back of your mind for days now, only growing stronger with each passing moment. It was not about Franco’s career, but more about where you fit into his new world. The glitz and glamor, cameras that seemed to follow every move, the polished and perfect people that surrounded him—people you had never imagined yourself fitting in with.
Lily, Alex’s girlfriend, had been nothing but sweet to you all weekend. You bonded with her quickly, her kind words and warmth is a welcoming comfort amidst the chaos. Yet, as much as you liked her, being around someone so gorgeous and effortlessly poised had only made you feel even smaller. You weren’t tall or glamorous like her or the other WAGs, nor were you used to the attention, and you barely have a successful career. You were just…you. A university student trying to get by through her classes, someone who barely knew what to do when a camera pointed your way, and someone who couldn’t help but wonder if you were truly cut out for this kind of life.
When Franco finally made his way back to you, you could hardly breathe. He greeted you with that same wide smile and a soft tender kiss on the lips, his eyes still sparkling from the thrill of the race.
“Can you believe it?” He laughed, pulling you into a hug. “I can’t believe I just raced in F1. This is really insane.”
You smiled weakly, arms wrapped around him. Trying to steady your racing heart. “I’m so proud of you,” you murmured against his chest. But the words felt heavy, there was something you needed to say, something you dreaded.
After the media frenzy died down and the team began to clear out, you knew it was time. You asked Franco if the two of you can go to his driver’s room, away from the lights, cameras, and the noise. He nodded and led you towards his driver’s room, completely oblivious to the storm brewing inside of you.
When you reached his driver’s room, he locked the room to give you two some privacy. Franco quickly sensed that something was off with you, immediately frowning.
“What’s wrong?” He asked, as your hands shook as you fumbled with the words. “Franco…I don’t know if I can do this.”
“Do what?” His voice is gentle but confused.
“This. All of this.” You gestured around vaguely. “I don’t belong in this kind of world. I don’t look like the other girls in this kind environment, I don’t act like them. I just feel like…I’m not cut out for this, you know. For you.”
He blinked at you, and then—he laughed. A soft incredulous sound that only made your chest tighten. “You’re joking, right?” But you just shook your head, throat tightening painfully. “I’m serious, Franco.”
His smile faltered, eyes searching your face, and then he grew serious. “You’re breaking up with me?” He sounded like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing at all.
You bit your lip, feeling your resolve crack under the weight of his words. “I think I have to.”
Franco stepped closer, shaking his head in disbelief. “No. No way. Hell no. You’re not doing this.” He grabbed your hands, holding them tightly. “Tell me why. What’s really going on?”
You stared at the ground, unable to meet his eyes. How could you even tell him? How could you put into words the overwhelming insecurities that you had been drowning in.
“I’m not enough for this life, for your life,” you whispered, voice barely audible. “I’m just…me. You deserve someone who can handle all of this, someone who doesn’t feel like they are drowning every time the cameras turn their way. I’m scared that this will change us, that it will change you.”
Franco squeezed your hands tighter, forcing you to look at him. “You’re scared?” He asked softly. “Of what exactly? That I’ll stop loving you because I’m in F1 now?”
You nodded, chest tightening as tears began to fill your eyes. “I’m not like them, Franco. I don’t belong here.”
He pulled you into his arms, resting his chin on top of your head. “Listen to me, and you listen well,” he whispered. “You’ve been with me through everything, literally everything. Since my karting days. You’re the one I want with me, not some random model, not someone from this kind of environment. You.” He gently cupped your face, making sure that you were looking directly into his eyes. “I’m not breaking up with you. Not because of this, not because of anything. I love you so much. If this life makes you uncomfortable, we’ll figure it out. Together.”
You shook your head, still overwhelmed with doubts. “But I don’t know how to—”
“I don’t care,” he interrupted softly. “I don’t really care about any of that. All I care about is you. I’m not losing you just because you think that you’re not enough. You’ve always been more than enough for me.”
Tears finally spilled over, and Franco wiped them away with his thumb. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily, okay?” He added.
You let out a choked laugh, burying your face in his chest. “Okay,” you whispered, feeling the weight of your fears slowly start to lift.
Franco kissed the top of your head as he kept you close, his voice soft but firm. “Look at me,” he said, lifting your chin so your eyes met his. “There’s no one else I see in my future but you. No one else who matters like you do. I don’t care about the noise or what other people say. Let them talk all they want, I don’t give a shit. You’re the most important person in my life.”
His words wrapped around you like a warm blanket chasing away the chill of insecurity. You couldn’t help the way your heart fluttered, how much you wanted to believe him. “But people will judge, Franco. They already are.”
Franco shook his head, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “I don’t care about them. They don’t know you like I do. I’ve seen you at your best and your worst, and I’ve loved you through it all. That’s what matters, not their opinions.”
You bit your lip, trying to push away the lingering doubts. “It’s just I don’t want to hold you back. You deserve someone who—”
“I already have someone I deserve,” he cut you off, voice unwavering. “You’ve been there for me through everything, you believed in me when no one else did, even when I wasn’t sure I believed in myself. I’m not letting you go because of some stupid insecurities about fitting in with this world. I don’t need someone from this world. All I need is you.”
Tears welled in your eyes again, but this time they weren’t from doubt or fear. They were from the overwhelming love you felt at that moment. “You’re sure?” You whispered, voice trembling. “You’re really sure?”
Franco smiled, the kind of smile that made everything else melt away. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. You’re my future, not them. Not anything else. Just you.”
As you stood there in his arms, you let yourself believe it. Because the way he looked at you, the way he spoke, it left no room for any doubts. You were the one he wanted, and that was enough.
After a long moment of silence, just feeling the comfort of being in his arms, you finally pulled back, wiping the last of your tears and giving him a small and sweet smile. The tension that had been weighing on you had lifted, already been replaced by the familiar warmth you always felt around Franco.
You wrinkled your nose playfully, trying to lighten the mood. “Okay, as sweet as this moment is, you really need to freshen up. You stink.” You teased, giving him a playful nudge.
Franco let out a laugh, the sound light and easy. “What? No way, I smell like pure victory,” he grinned, pulling you back into his arms, purposely trying to rub his post-race sweat on you.
“Franco!” You squealed, trying to push him away. “Ew, Franco! You’re all sweaty!”
He laughed harder, his arms tightening around you for a second before he finally let you go, raising his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright, I’ll go and freshen up,” he said, his grin still wide. “But don’t think I didn’t notice how you were crying on me. If anything, you owe me for that.”
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “Fine, fine. I’ll owe you. Just go clean up before I regret taking you back,” you teased, earning an exaggerated gasp from him.
Franco winked at you before heading off to freshen up, not forgetting to steal a kiss from you. “Don’t go anywhere, I’ve got plans for us to celebrate.” He threw a playful look over his shoulder.
You shook your head with a laugh, feeling lighter than you had in days. The doubts that once felt overwhelming now seemed small in comparison to the love you shared. Franco was right—together, you could figure out everything, just like how you both always do.
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cevansbrat0007 · 3 days
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Forget-Me-Not
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Summary: Ari forgets to do something important before leaving out the door...
Warnings: Mature Themes, Ari Being A Menace, Fluff, Implied Smut, Kisses, Chocolate Covered Strawberries, Cursing, Minors DNI
A/N: Part of my Sweet Renegade Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!
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You’re currently standing at the stove, slowly stirring a pot of freshly melted chocolate. For some reason, you’d awoken this morning with a craving for chocolate dipped strawberries. So, instead of paying an arm and a leg to buy them from some fancy shop, you’d simply decided to make your own. 
Humming under your breath, you’re surprised when you hear your front door open and shut. A quick glance at the clock suggests that it’s much too early for Ari to home for good just yet. More likely he’d probably forgotten something. 
Turning off the heat, you move to pour it into a bowl. Next up was your favorite part – turning your favorite fruit into a delicious confection. You run your finger along the spoon, wincing as the still-too-hot treat burns your skin.
But you don’t care. Not when it tastes so good. So good, that you can’t help the satisfied moan that escapes your throat. 
“Is it really that good, sweetheart?” 
“Mm.” You purr before helping yourself to another taste, this time using your tongue now that things have cooled a little more. “It really is.” 
Grinning, you take a moment to get a good look at your man. He’d been a man on a mission this morning, rushing out the door before you were barely awake and alert. And while you weren’t quite sure what business it was that had him moving so quickly, you were pretty certain that he’d tell you at dinner.
“You in the mood to share?” Ari rasps as he leans against the wall, looking exceptionally sexy in his dark blue Levi’s and black henley. You find yourself slightly disappointed that he’s not rocking one of his signature flannels. 
Mostly because you liked to steal them. But to be fair, your sweet Beast also never seemed to complain when he caught you wearing one. He mostly just sighed and grumbled about his diminishing wardrobe. 
Which was fine by you, considering the fact that he was the sole reason your entire panty drawer had been reduced to next to nothing. Those flannels were owed to you by right! 
“Just what are you doin’ back so early?” You ask, holding the spoon out to him. “I didn’t expect to see you until dinner.”
“Forgot to do somethin’.” He rasps as he moves towards you, his long, powerful legs bridging the distance between your bodies in mere seconds. “Somethin’ important.”
“Oh?” Guess you were right. The man had been moving so fast this morning that he’d likely left behind an important file or notepad. “I don’t recall seeing anything on the table, but–”
“That ain’t what I forgot, little Bird.”
Now he’s standing in front of you, his work boots almost brushing your bare toes. You’re caught off guard when Ari moves to tenderly cup his cheek, his roughened palm warming your delicate skin. 
“What…what did you forget?” Confused, you move to offer him the spoon in your hand, only to be surprised when he declines. You watch as his normally brilliant blue eyes darken as they stray to your waiting mouth. Your heart speeds up when his head descends, making his intentions all the more clear.
“Something much, much sweeter.”  
Squealing in surprise, you can’t help when your eyes flutter closed as his sinful lips capture your own. The kiss starts off soft and sweet, that is, until you feel Ari’s free hand make its way down your lower back so that he can grab a handful of your ass, pulling you closer to his big body.
You feel his tongue sweep against your bottom lip, encouraging you to open. To respond in the way you so desperately know he wants. Rising on your toes, you eagerly grant him access, wanting him to know that you were feeling just as hungry and wanting as he felt for you.
Feeling emboldened, Ari lifts you off your feet, prompting you to wrap your legs around his trim waist. Your fingers find their way into his hair, lightly tugging at his already tousled locks. Meanwhile both of his impatient hands busy themselves with kneading and squeezing your curves as he rocks his hips against yours, letting you feel the weight of his already impressive erection.
It makes you want him here. Now. So you can't help but feel disappointed when he slowly eases away, leaving you wet and needy.
“Fuck." He promises now that he's finally allows you up for air. "Promise I won’t forget to do that again.”
“Uh huh.” You breathe, your legs wobbling slightly the moment he releases his hold, lightly setting you down. It doesn’t help when he leans in once again to gently brush his lips against your temple. And his satisfied grin has you giggling as your head falls to rest against his broad chest. 
“Tell me what I interrupted here, baby.”
“I was making chocolate covered strawberries.” Nuzzling your nose against the fabric of his shirt, you continue. “I woke up with a taste for them, so…” You offer up a small shrug. “I decided to make some.”
“Well, that’s funny. On account of I woke up with a taste for you.” You feel his big palm come to rest on your head, stroking a path along your silky curls. “And these are about to make the proceedings even better.” 
You can’t help but feel a little dizzy when he pulls away. His teasing words were filling you with all kinds of spicy ideas.
“I’ve gotta run.” Ari tells you. “I only came back to rectify my mistake. But I want you to save some of these for tonight…” He glances down at your now cold bowl of chocolate. “Because I have plans to enjoy my little Bird for dessert before I even think about dinner.”
Reaching around you, he snags a ripe berry and lifts it to your mouth. His eyes never leave yours as he watches you bite down on the plump fruit, its juice lightly dripping down your chin. Groaning low in his throat, Ari leans in once more, lapping up the sweet trail with his tongue. 
“And Bird?” He calls as he turns to walk away, confidently striding towards the front door.
“Y-yeah?” Dear God, this man was going to be the death of you.
“No panties, alright? I don’t want anything between me and my strawberry delight.”
Fucking Beast.
END
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lizzieolseniskinda · 2 days
Text
TOM RIDDLE - soulmates don’t exist PT. 3
part one | two | three - x FEM!reader (POC!friendly)
(requests open)
SUMMARY: everything changes for you when snape gives you a certain memory. will you be able to do the task that dumbledore has given you?
WORD COUNT: 4677
GENRE: angst-ish (but not really)
CONTENT WARNING: soulmate (soulbound) & time travel au, english is not my first language, i took names of professor in harry's time (it's easier that way)
PROOFREAD - (24 SEP. 2024)
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You were walking through the Hogwarts courtyard, bundled up in your robes as the wind carried a hint of the colder months that were coming. The sun filtered through the canopy of orange and red; it was a cold day without the sun. As you approached the Gryffindor common room after breakfast, you spotted Lucas—tall, with his messy black curls and easygoing grin—leaning casually against the wall.
“There you are!” he called out, pushing off the wall and strolling over to you. “I’ve been looking for you. Fancy coming with me to Hogsmeade? I’ve got some things to pick up, and I thought you could use a break from all the studying.”
You raised an eyebrow, interested. “And by ‘things,’ you mean what exactly?”
“Important stuff!” Lucas replied with mock seriousness. “Like sweets from Honeydukes and a new quill, since I keep losing mine. And, of course, we have to stop at Zonko’s - can’t leave without some supplies for our next prank on Maeve.”
You let out a laugh, feeling the tension of the past few years slip away. You figured you could use a shopping day - it was a Saturday after all; you could just study after. “Sounds like a plan, though I’m not sure if Maeve would be happy with another one of your ‘masterpieces’.”
“She’ll survive. Besides, I’ve got a new idea that’ll totally blow her mind; just wait and see,” Lucas nudged you playfully.
As you made your way down the long, winding path to Hogsmeade, a sleek black cat caught your eye. It seemed to be lingering just out of reach; you’d seen the cat a few times today, always trailing a few paces behind, watching you with its bright, curious green eyes. It had followed you from the common room to the courtyard, through the grounds, and now it was walking behind you and Lucas as though it belonged with the two of you.
“Look at that,” you murmured, glancing over your shoulder at the cat. “It’s been following me this entire day.”
Lucas turned around, narrowing his eyes slightly at the feline. “Huh, that’s a little weird, don’t you think? Cats don’t usually follow people around for no reason.”
You crouched down and extended a hand toward the cat. To your surprise, it didn’t hesitate. The cat padded forward and nuzzled your palm; its fluffy and soft fur was warm, despite the chill in the air. You smiled, scratching it behind the ears.
“I think it likes me,” you said, looking up at Lucas. “Maybe it's a stray. What do you think?”
Lucas crossed his arms and looked at the cat with a suspicious expression. “It's a little too good to be true, don’t you think? A mysterious black cat following you around Hogwarts. You know there are loads of horror stories about witches using cats as spies, right?”
“You're paranoid,” you rolled your eyes at him, but smiled.
“I’m cautious,” Lucas corrected, though there was a small teasing glint in his eyes. “But if you’re set on keeping it, we should make sure it’s not... I don’t know, an Animagus or something. Better safe than sorry, right?”
“You think someone’s been using this little thing to spy on me?”
Lucas shrugged, but he was already pulling out his wand. “Could be, perhaps. There’s a simple charm to check for such things; it won’t hurt the cat - you have my promise.”
You stood up and took a step back, “Okay, but I’m telling you, it’s just a normal cat.”
Lucas raised his wand, pointing it at the cat as he muttered the incantation under his breath. A faint blue light shimmered from the tip of his wand. It surrounded the cat for a moment before fading away.
You both stared at the cat in silence, holding your breath, waiting for whatever was about to happen. But the cat just blinked up at you, then licked its paw nonchalantly.
Lucas let out a breath, “Phew... what do you know? It’s just a regular old cat.”
“Told you,” you smirked, “looks like you’re now stuck with me and my new pet.”
The cat - as if it sensed your affectionate words - let out a soft purr and wound itself around your legs once more. You knelt down and scratched behind its ears again. A bond was already beginning to form. The only problem was the lice and many more things that were scattered across its fur.
"Alright, alright," Lucas said, laughing. "I suppose it shouldn’t be a problem.”
With the cat in tow, you and Lucas continued down the path to Hogsmeade. The bustling village was already alive with students and locals; shops were gleaming with fresh stock and festive decorations for upcoming festivities. As you entered Honeydukes, the warmth of the shop’s interior enveloped you, along with the sweet scent of sugar and chocolate.
“So, what’s your go-to sweet?” Lucas asked as he grabbed a basket, eyeing the chocolate frogs with heart eyes.
“Maybe the peppermint toads?” you said with a grin, grabbing a small bag from the shelf. “They’re the perfect balance of sweet and refreshing.”
Lucas pulled a face, “You’re a maniac. It’s all about the fizzing whizzbees.”
Both of you wandered through the aisles, piling your basket high with various candies - sugar quills, licorice wands, jelly slugs. At one point, Lucas tried to sneak a handful of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans into your bag, but you caught him just in time.
“You’re not tricking me into eating vomit-flavored beans again!” you narrowed your eyes at him.
Lucas laughed, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. I'll save it for someone else.”
After stocking enough sweets to last almost a month, you and Lucas headed to Zonko’s. The shop was just as chaotic as expected, filled with exploding fireworks, laughing gas, and all manner of joke items. Lucas was in his element, darting from one display to the next with an excitement you hadn't seen since your first year at Hogwarts when you'd go shopping with the Weasleys.
It made you wonder if there was a Weasley in this timeline, or a Potter; surely there must—
“I’ve got it,” Lucas broke your trance, holding up a box of nose-biting teacups. “We’ll switch Maeve's regular tea with one of these. Can you imagine the look on her face?”
You shook your head, grinning, “You’re terrible.”
“Hey! You’re the one who agreed to come with me,” he replied, winking. “Makes you an accomplice.”
After spending almost an hour in Zonko’s, you finally dragged Lucas away before he bought the entire store. The two of you made your way back to Hogwarts, the pockets of your robes stuffed with sweets, joke items, and - in your case - also a black cat nestled happily in your arms.
“Already thought of a name?” Lucas asked as you strolled along the path.
You looked down at the cat, who had fallen asleep in your arms, still purring softly. “I’m not so sure yet; maybe something like ‘Shadow’?”
“Shadow,” Lucas mused, “hm, not bad; fits the whole ‘following you everywhere’ thing it’s got going on.”
You laughed, feeling the warmth of the cat’s fur against you. Despite the whirlwind of chaos that had brought you here, there was something so comforting about the small creature that had decided to be your companion.
And as you and Lucas made your way back to the castle, joking and teasing each other, you felt like things were normal, like you were just a regular student at Hogwarts, living in a time untouched by war and dark magic.
You went to sleep that day feeling better already, with the small feline curled up at the end of your bed, purring, its little collar having a little bell that you bought in a shop.
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The following morning, you made your way down the main aisle, the familiar hum of chatter and clicking of cutlery filling the air. It was officially your second week at Hogwarts, and though you were still getting used to the time period, you started to have a routine.
You reached the Gryffindor table and spotted your friends, already gathering around a platter of toast and eggs; some of them had pancakes. They waved you over and made space as you slipped onto the bench beside them.
“Morning, y/n!” Maeve greeted brightly, pushing a pitcher of pumpkin juice toward you. Her curly hair was a little wild this morning, as if she didn’t care. “Sleep well?”
You poured yourself a glass. “Pretty well, all things considered. I think I’m getting used to these weird ancient beds.”
Alicia snorted, her red hair falling into her eyes as she reached for a stack of pancakes. “Weird ancient beds? Try getting used to the weird ancient ghosts! I had Nearly Headless Nick hovering over my bed last night, telling some kind of story about jousting. I barely slept.”
“Better Nick than Peeves, though. That poltergeist kept chucking ink at me during Charms yesterday,” Maeve giggled, spreading jam on a piece of toast.
You laughed, feeling a warmth in your chest that you weren’t expecting. These girls had made everything feel… lighter. The constant worry in the back of your mind lessened. Here, in the morning sunlight with breakfast laid out before you, you almost forgot the real reason why you were here.
“Mm, speaking of Charms,” Maeve said, glancing at her timetable. “We’ve got it again this morning. Think Professor Flitwick will finally let us practice summoning spells?”
“I certainly hope so,” Lilith spoke as quietly as ever, but her eyes were sparkling with excitement. “Right? I’ve been dying to try action on something bigger. Imagine being able to summon an entire plate of pastries!” Lucas exclaimed.
“As if we need more reasons for you to get distracted during class, Luca,” Alicia rolled her eyes.
They continued to chatter about the day ahead while you found your gaze wandering around. The students were busy with their own conversations; some were studying, others were yawning over cups of tea, while some were also scribbling down last-minute notes for their morning classes. Everything felt so normal.
When your eyes landed on the Slytherin table, the illusion of normalcy shattered. You’d almost forgotten about him.
Tom Riddle. He was sitting at the center, surrounded by his usual group of admirers. He was composed, elegant even, as he buttered a piece of toast, speaking quietly to a blonde male next to him.
You looked away quickly before his group—or him—could notice you staring. “You’re awfully quiet this morning,” Maeve nudged you with her elbow.
“Everything alright?”
You gave a smile, hoping it didn’t look too strained. “Yeah, just thinking about today.”
“Don’t worry about it too much; it’s only the second week,” Lucas smiled. “Besides, you’re part of the group now. We’re in this together.”
“No backing out,” Lilith added, and for a second, you thought you’d melted.
You smiled, relaxing. You felt it reach your eyes; a sense of belonging wandered around in the back of your mind.
Breakfast continued, and so did the conversation to a more light-hearted topic: Alicia’s and Lilith’s excitement about the next Hogsmeade trip, Lucas’s plans for another elaborate prank on their dorm mate, and Maeve’s ongoing battle with Peeves. You listened, laughed, and chimed in the conversation whenever you could.
Maeve slung her bag over her shoulder and stood up. “Come on, y/n. Let’s see if we can make it to Flitwick’s class before Luca drags us to the kitchens for more pastries.”
“I resent that,” Lucas called over his shoulder, “but I do want more pastries.”
You smiled and grabbed your bag as you followed them out of the Great Hall, trying to savour the last few minutes of peace before the day truly began.
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⋆。⋆˙⟡charms class:
When you arrived at the Charms class, it was buzzing with quiet energy as tired students filed in, quills and textbooks clutched in their hands. You took a seat next to Maeve on your left side. Behind another desk with space in between you two sat another girl—Slytherin.
“Good morning, everyone! Today, we will be practicing summoning charms—Accio!” Professor Flitwick said loudly, standing on a stack of books at the front of the class as he clapped his hands to get the attention of all the students.
An exciting murmur passed through the room. You realized how, in their fifth year, they learn about summoning spells in this timeline, while in Harry’s timeline you learned more defensive spells or memory spells. The difference was huge.
Summoning charms were pretty basic, but growing up in times like you did, you almost had no time getting used to a simple spell like Accio while you could easily Obliviate someone or use the Patronus charm.
“Partner up!” Flitwick instructed. You turned to look at Maeve, who was already grinning at you.
“I’ve been practicing this all week,” Maeve said, wiggling her eyebrows. “Let’s see if I can summon a bigger thing than a quill this time.”
“Alright, but if you summon a desk by accident, you’re responsible,” you teased her, setting your wand on your desk.
Maeve pointed her wand at one of the cushions Flitwick had left for practice. “Accio cushion!” she shouted, her wand slicing through the air.
The cushion zoomed toward her, though it wobbled slightly before landing in her arms. “Not bad, right?”
You clapped lightly. “That was impressive!”
Maeve jokingly gave a little bow to you. “Your turn!”
You focused on a cushion that was lying a few feet away, envisioning it flying smoothly into your hands. After a flick of your wand, you called out,
“Accio cushion!”
The cushion shot toward you with more speed than you expected, hitting you on your chest slightly and knocking you back slightly. You laughed, catching it just in time. Maeve burst into giggles beside you.
“Well, at least it's working,” you said with a grin. Putting the cushion down, you glanced around the room and caught sight of Tom. He was practicing at the far end of the classroom. He performed the spell flawlessly, his cushion gliding into his hands with barely a flick of his wrist. His focus was intense, almost unnerving.
You quickly turned towards Maeve again, not wanting to dwell on him.
⋆。⋆˙⟡potions class:
The potion classroom in the dungeons was dark and cool; the only source of light was flickering. A mushy and earthy scent of ingredients filled the air as you sat down next to Alicia at one of the tables near the back.
“Right,” Alicia said, pulling out her ingredients. “I’ve got a good feeling about today’s potion. We’re supposed to make something simple, so there’s no way I can accidentally melt my cauldron like last week.”
You snickered. “Simple or not, I still think you have a way to make the easiest potions chaotic.”
Before Alicia could respond, Professor Slughorn’s jovial voice boomed across the room. “Today, my dear students, we will be brewing a calming draught. Quite useful for, uh, stressful situations.” He winked at the class. “-“I’m sure none of you feel stressed, though.”
You could feel the irony of the assignment, given how much stress you were actually under without anyone really knowing. You could probably use a calming draught or two just to get through the day.
Slughorn’s face was surrounded with enthusiasm as he demonstrated the first few steps, his eyes darting over the class with interest. You gathered the ingredients you needed and carefully measured out the valerian root, hellebore syrup, and the fluxweed oil.
“So, you think Slughorn’s going to invite you to one of his little parties?” Alicia asked as she ground some peppermint into powder.
You shrugged, keeping your focus on your cauldron as you stirred it clockwise. “Not very likely. I don’t really know what those parties are even about,” you lied. You went to one meeting with Hermione and decided to never go again. Simply a waste of time.
Alicia raised an eyebrow. “Well, Slughorn kinda ‘collects’ talented students. You’re smart, plus you’re new and kind. So, I’d say you're prime Slug Club material.”
You smiled at her. “We’ll see,” you said quietly. “Plus, I think Riddle is in Slug Club,” Alicia whispered.
You almost spilled the peppermint that you were trying to add into your potion. “Sorry, what?” you gaped at her. She scoffed at you and smiled. “Don’t act dumb; I always see you looking at him.”
Your potion turned to a soft blue—that was a good sign. “What??? No, I don’t…” you mumbled and glanced over at Alicia’s cauldron, which was bubbling a little too vigorously.
“Uh, Alicia... are you sure you didn’t add too much oil?” you asked her, eyeing the bubbles. “You’re not getting out of this conversation, Y/N,”Alicia said while she kept adding oil.
“No, no, I’m serious; look at those bubbles.”
“Oh, oops,” Alicia gasped and quickly turned down the heat under her cauldron. “Well, at least it’s not melting this time.”
You laughed softly, helping her adjust the potion before it boiled over. Potions was always a mix of stress and humor with Alicia. Seems like you're not as slick as you thought you were.
⋆。⋆˙⟡transfiguration class:
Dumbledore’s class, there was a different energy in the air. The room was spacious and bright; high arched windows were letting beams of sunlight in that illuminated against the desks. Dumbledore was standing at the front. “Today,” Dumbledore began, “we will attempt one of the more advanced transfigurations: turning inanimate objects into animals. Quite the leap from last week’s matchsticks to needles, wouldn’t you say?”
Maeve leaned over to you, whispering, “What if we give a four-legged animal six legs by mistake?”
You snickered quietly.
Dumbledore waved his wand, and a stack of stones appeared on each of the students’ desks. “Your task today is to transform this stone into small creatures of your choosing: a mouse, perhaps, or a bird. Be gentle and focus.”
You pointed your wand at the stone, visualising a small bird. With clear focus, you flicked your wand, saying the incantation softly.
To your surprise, the stone started shifting, wings sprouting from its sides as it transformed into a tiny sparrow. It fluttered its wings in confusion before hopping onto your desk.
“Well, aren’t you just the star pupil,” Maeve teased with a grin. She was still poking at her half-transformed stone, which looked more like a stone with some fur on it.
From the front of the class, Dumbledore’s eyes met yours briefly, and he gave a small approving nod. You continued helping Maeve when you caught a glimpse of Tom Riddle a few rows ahead. His magic was perfect—obviously. The stone in front of him had turned into a sleek, black raven that perched on his desk with eerie calm.
You sighed, forcing yourself to focus more on Maeve and her furry rock. There would be plenty of time to think about Tom later, but the time was ticking, and you knew it
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Shadow, the cat that you’d taken in, padded silently beside you as you made your way to the library. You smiled down at him; Shadow had proven to be nothing more than a sweet, lovely companion. The cat had followed you everywhere except for classes.
“You like books, don’t you?” you murmured to the cat as you entered the library, earning a few curious glances from other students. Shadow flicked his tail and trotted ahead of you, his sleek form disappearing between two towering bookshelves.
The library was quiet and warm, even after dinner. The air was thick with the scent of old parchment and dust. You loved it in the library; it felt like a sanctuary, a place where time stood still.
Wandering through the shelves, you scanned the spines of the books you passed. Every so often, you’d glance behind you to make sure Shadow was still with you. Reaching a shelf tucked in a quiet corner of the library, you found a book you'd been looking for - The Founder’s Legacy: A History of Hogwarts. It was a book you needed for your Muggle Studies.
You pulled it down and tucked it under your arm, turning to leave the aisle; but when you did, you noticed Shadow was gone. “Shadow?” you called softly, careful not to disturb the other students. The silence of the library seemed to grow louder, your eyes searching for the black fur you had grown accustomed to.
Frowning, you stepped out of the aisle, looking around for any sign of the cat. Only a few students were scattered around the tables, their heads buried in their studies. Then, out of the corner of your eye, you spotted him.
At one of the far tables, seated in his usual spot near the back of the library, was Tom Riddle.
With Shadow.
Your breath caught in your throat. The sleek black cat had made himself comfortable on the edge of Tom’s open book, his paws kneading the pages as he purred contentedly. Tom didn’t seem bothered by the interruption. In fact, he was watching the cat with an odd expression - almost as if he was amused, though his features remained calm and composed as always.
For a second, you just stood there, contemplating all your life’s choices. Seeing Shadow so comfortable made your heart race. Tom Riddle, the person you were meant to change, was casually petting the cat you had taken in, and it made your situation feel even more surreal.
But only you couldn't keep standing there forever, staring at Tom Riddle.
So, you summoned up your courage and slowly walked over to the table, forcing yourself to remain calm even though you could feel your chest preparing for a panic attack.
“Looking for this?” His voice was soft but cold as he gestured to the cat with a slight raise of his hand. Shadow meowed happily and stretched out his paws, pushing against Tom's book as if he had claimed it for himself.
Hearing Tom’s voice changed something in you; a warm feeling spread through you.
“Yes,” you said, your voice steady, trying to ignore all the feelings you were feeling at once. “I didn’t realise he’d wandered off.”
Tom’s eyes lingered on you for a moment, studying you with the same unsettling intensity you’d noticed in class. Then he looked back at the cat, one hand absently touching behind Shadow’s ear. The cat purred louder, pressing into the touch as though he had always belonged there.
“He seems to like me,” Tom observed. You had to hold back a scoff, so you forced a smile. “He’s a friendly one.”
“I can see.”
You weren’t sure how to respond to that. You cleared your throat and stepped forward, reaching for Shadow. “Well, I should get him out of your way; he’s probably disturbing your reading. Or studying, or whatever…”
Tom didn’t move at first, and for a brief second, you thought he might not let you take back your cat. But then he pulled his hand back. Shadow, oblivious to the tension, stretched lazily before hopping off the table and rubbing against your leg.
You cradled Shadow in your arms as you tried to steady your nerves.
You felt Tom’s gaze linger on you for a moment longer before he turned his attention back to his book, his expression unreadable. “Be careful,” he said, his voice low. “Not everything that follows you is harmless.”
You blinked, taken aback by the sudden shift in his tone. Was that a warning? Or something more? Before you could reply, Tom had already turned the page of his book, his focus shifting away from you as though the conversation had never happened
A chill ran down your spine as you hugged Shadow closer. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and you turned around.
Tom’s cryptic words echoed in your thoughts. You were halfway to the library’s entrance when you spotted Lucas striding toward you, hands tucked in his pockets, that ever-present grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. He seemed completely at ease, as though the world was just a big joke waiting to be told.
“There you are!” he called out in a low voice, somewhat mindful of the library’s strict silence policy. He walked right up to you, his sharp blue eyes scanning your face before flicking over to the spot where Tom was sitting. “I saw you over there, chatting with Riddle.”
“Yeah... Shadow wandered over to him,” you smiled slightly, still not fully calmed down, but Lucas’s presence helped a bit.
Lucas smiled. “Look, I’m just gonna say it: I’ve seen you stare at him at times, and you look like you’ve seen a ghost. Whatever he’s said to you—”
“He said something about not everything that follows you is harmless,” you interrupted him, needing to get it off your chest.
“Okay, stop. That’s freakishly creepy,” Lucas gaped, stealing a glance at Tom. “Just... try to ignore him. Riddle’s either got everyone thinking he’s the hottest thing to walk these halls, or they think he’s bloody weird.”
Your curiosity piqued. “And what do you think?”
Lucas paused, his eyes narrowing slightly as he considered the question. His grin returned. “Both.”
You chuckled at his bluntness. “Both?”
You walked out of the library, your book long forgotten on the table you were supposed to be studying at. “Yeah, he’s good looking. I mean, objectively speaking,” Lucas said. “But there’s something about him that’s off. Like, he’s too good at... well, everything. It's unnatural; people are drawn to him, but they’re also... I don’t know, scared of him. You know? Even if they don't want to admit it.”
You nodded, thinking back to how Tom had looked at you - the way his eyes seemed to see right through you. There was definitely something unnerving about him. “He’s strange. Almost like he’s always one step ahead of everyone.”
“Exactly,” Lucas agreed. “It’s like he’s playing a game no one else knows the rules to. Trust me, best to keep your distance.”
“I wasn’t planning on making friends with him,” you said, shifting Shadow in your arms. The cat blinked lazily up at you.
“Good, I’ve got enough trouble without having to rescue you from the dark and mysterious Tom Riddle,” Lucas replied, giving you a reassuring smile.
You let out a laugh. “Thanks, Lucas. I’ll be sure to tell you first if I get in over my head.”
Lucas grinned. “I’ll be there, wand at the ready.”
The two of you started to head toward the common room together, the tension that had been knotted in your chest since your encounter with Tom slowly began to ease. Lucas had a way of making things feel lighter, like no matter how complicated the situation got, he’d find a way to make it less scary.
“Anyway,” Lucas said, slinging an arm around your shoulders as you walked, “enough about Riddle. Did you get what you came for? Or are we heading back in for round two of ‘Tom the Cat Whisperer’?”
You smirked, shaking your head. “No more rounds with him for today, thanks. I think I’ve had my fill of mysterious brooding for the time being. But I do think I might’ve left my book in there.”
Lucas laughed again, his voice carrying through the halls. “We’ll get it first thing tomorrow. And if you do like him, just don’t go falling for that whole dark-and-mysterious thing. I won’t judge you.”
You rolled your eyes, nudging him playfully. “Please. You know I prefer my friends a little less brooding and a little more… fun.”
“See? That’s the right attitude.” He gave you a wink, his smile warm and genuine. “Stick with me. I’m way more fun than some dark wizard-in-training.”
You couldn’t help but smile back. As strange and intense as things had become, Lucas was a constant source of light. Maybe, just maybe, he’d help keep you grounded as you navigated the dangerous path ahead.
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a/n: posted a bit earlier, but umm, i was thinking of naming the cat crookshanks first - so she has a reminder of hermione, harry and ron. but idk :( alsooooo, i'll probably update on sunday for this serie (loads of homework)
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301 notes · View notes
jo-speaks · 3 days
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good graces ft. quinn hughes
in which…
quinn hughes realizes you'll be okay, with or without him.
warnings: MDNI. brief smut (again, it's like a paragraph), mature language, mentions of cheating, and i think that's all.
track three in short n' sweet (hughes brothers version) series!
When I love you, I'm sweet like an angel
Drawin' hearts 'round our names
And dreamin' of writing vows, rockin' cradles
“What’re you doing?” Quinn asked, wrapping his arms behind you as you shut the oven door, leaving the sweet treat you made to bake.
You took off your oven mitt before sighing and leaning back into his hold. “Baking cookies. You said you wanted some this morning, right?
He let out a soft laugh, “Yeah. How did you hear that though?”
“It’s not like you’re quiet when you’re on the phone with Conor.”
Quinn rolled his eyes playfully, dismissing your comment about how comfortable he was when talking to his teammate. He set one of his hands to lean back against the kitchen island where he felt a piece of paper under his palm. He furrowed his eyebrows, creasing the sheet slightly to pick it up. 
After a quick examination, he realized it was the recipe you had written down for the cookies. In the top corner of it, he saw his initials next to yours, enclosed in a heart. Quinn felt a warm feeling in his chest knowing you had done that, not caring if he saw it or not.
He held the paper in front of your face, which you had buried in the crease of his right elbow. “What’s this?”
You traced your eyes over the paper, “The recipe for the cookies? Don’t tell me you can’t read all of a sudden.” He gave you a thin-lipped look before tapping his finger over the childish drawing causing your eyebrows to lift in realization. “Oh, that. Got bored, thought it was cute. Something we could show the kids.”
Now it was his eyebrows that rose, “Kids? Like our kids?”
“Yeah, two of them. One of each. We can have them after our billion-dollar wedding.” You stated that like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 
Quinn knew you weren’t entirely serious. The two of you had this conversation a few months ago and he knew you wanted him to focus on his hockey career while you focused on your career. You both agreed you didn’t want to rush into anything until you were settled. And since Vancouver had been his home for 6 years and yours for 5 of those when you decided to move in with him, maybe it was time to start putting down those roots together.
Don't mistake my nice for naive
“Y/N, please. You’re being ridiculous. You were the one who told me to come in the first place!” Quinn called out to you as you walked away from him.
You stopped and turned back to face him, “Because I thought you’d have fun celebrating with your team here! Not flirt with the bartender the whole night!”
He rolled his eyes, setting you off even more. “I wasn’t flirting with her! I was getting Brock his drink!”
“Whatever, Quinn. I’m going home.” You sighed, not wanting to continue arguing with him in front of a bunch of people.
“I wasn’t flirting.” He mumbled, defeated.
You almost felt bad for reacting the way you did, but you knew him. The half smile and constant nodding all while keeping his eyes on her lips as they moved. 
You weren’t stupid.
I don't waste a second, I know lots of guys
You do somethin' suspect, this cute ass bye-bye
Like, ooh
Baby, you say you really like it being mine?
So let me give you some advice
After the whole bar argument, you decided to repay the favour a few days later when you had gone out to that same bar with your girlfriends. The same night you knew the Canucks would be celebrating their victory there. You watched the door attentively before a tap on your shoulder caught your attention.
“Y/N, this is Josh. He thought you were cute!” Was the only thing your friend said before walking away. The stumbling in her steps was the only thing you needed to explain the situation. 
Josh rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly as he placed his drink down on the bar and took the seat next to you. He cleared his throat, “Hey. Pretty interesting friend you have there.”
You snorted, “Tell me about it. You should see her sober, she’s still the same way.”
He laughed, “So, what’s a pretty girl like you doing sitting alone?”
Before you could answer, you heard the bar erupt in whistles and clapping. You didn’t even have to turn your head to know who had walked in. Josh glanced over your shoulder, getting a view of the team himself. His focus came back to you when you tilted your head to interrupt his view. 
“Sorry.”
“It’s fine. But to answer your question, I’m just here because I’m pissed at my boyfriend.”
You noticed his face drop before returning to the way it was before, “No way. I’m here because I’m pissed at my girlfriend!”
Your eyes widened at his confession, letting out a small chuckle. “Yikes, you’re an asshole.”
“Yeah?” He propped his arm on the bar, “How are you not?”
“Well for starters, I’m not approaching anyone. Second, my boyfriend just got here, so he knows where I am. And it doesn’t take a genius to know that your girlfriend has no idea where you are.” You answered, seeing the team take a seat at the tables next to where you were sitting.
As Josh sat in front of you, stunned at your words, you caught your boyfriend's eyes. He took a double take, not realizing it was you the first time. You looked away, bringing your attention back to the man in front of you as Quinn kept his on you.
“Who’s your boyfriend?” Josh asked.
You smirked slightly, “Quinn Hughes.
Josh’s eyes widened, “Bullshit.”
Shrugging your shoulders, you placed a hand on his shoulder, pulling him closer so you could talk in his ear and look over it to lock eyes with Quinn. “Don’t believe me? You’ll see who walks over to you when I leave.”
You backed up and got off your stool, heading to the bathroom as you kept eye contact with your boyfriend as you passed him. After you did, you heard him get up, his footsteps going the opposite way from where you were heading.
~
“What the fuck was that,” Quinn grumbled as he got into his car.
You shrugged your shoulders, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Quinn scoffed, “This is fucking gold, Y/N. You were all over my ass for doing the same shit on Tuesday, but when you do it’s all good.”
“Yeah, no. See, the difference between what I did tonight and what you did earlier this week is that I actually wasn’t flirting, I just wanted you to see what it was like to feel how I did when I saw you actually flirting with someone else.” You retorted, knowing how ridiculous the words coming out of your mouth sounded to him.
Yet on some level, Quinn knew you were right. He sighed before reaching over the center console to take hold of your hand. 
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t sober, but I still knew what I was doing. I don’t want to lose you over this, so please tell me what I can do to make it up to you.” He whispered.
You turned to look at him, “You like being my boyfriend?”
He nodded.
“Then don’t lie to me.”
Boy, it's not that complicated
You should stay in my good graces
Or I'll switch it up like that so fast
'Cause no one's more amazin'
At turnin' lovin' into hatred x2
I won't give a fuck about you x3
That was cool
I won't give a fuck about you (Oh) x3
Yeah
“She’s the last person I’d want to piss off,” Jack told his brother over the phone as Quinn finished up telling him the whole bar fiasco the two of you had gone through a month ago. 
“Tell me about it. I’m not just saying this because she’s my girlfriend, but she’s literally always right. It’s getting scary.” Quinn confessed, pulling his car into the parking garage of the apartment complex.
Jack sighed, “Well, shit. Good luck with that, bro. Lukey’s calling you later, I gotta go.” 
Quinn said goodbye to his brother, hanging up the phone as he stepped out of his car, grabbing the bouquet of flowers he had gotten you for no reason. After the whole situation, he knew he couldn’t only make it up with verbal apologies. So he went old-school, settling for getting you flowers whenever he felt like they were needed. 
He stepped into the elevator, rocking back and forth on his heels as he reached your floor, walking out the second the doors opened. 
As he unlocked the front door of your shared apartment, he could hear you talking in the kitchen. 
“Yeah, I don’t know. I didn’t want to forgive him, but he’s making up for it.” You said to whoever you were talking to over the phone. 
Quinn stepped in quietly, your back still turned and your AirPods in your ears as you cooked dinner for the two of you. Still unbeknownst to you, Quinn walked to the hallway across from the kitchen, wanting to hear your conversation. 
Was it wrong to eavesdrop on you? Yes. Did Quinn know this? Also yes. Did he care? Not really. 
You let out a sigh, “Listen. He knows better than to do that to me. He also knows that I’m the last person he wants to fuck with because I can switch up incredibly fast. If he wants to cheat on me, he can go right ahead. But he knows damn well I’ll be out replacing him that same night.”
His face dropped. He knew that you were telling the truth, which is what scared him straight. 
“I don’t give a fuck if he wants to go out with Bella Hadid. If he does that without breaking up with me, I’m going straight to his mother and maybe even social media if I’m feeling petty enough.” You laughed, but there was nothing you were joking about. 
By now, Quinn wanted to ignore any woman that came his way.
“Don’t get me wrong, I love him so much. So much to the point where I would get down on my knee and propose to him. But, if so much as lies to me about anyone or anything, he’s gonna need a good lawyer.”
I'll tell the world you finish your chores prematurely
Quinn lined himself up in between your legs, pushing into you completely in one swift movement. You let out a breathy moan as your nails dug into his biceps. He didn’t move, letting not only you but himself adjust to the feeling. 
“Fuck, Q. You feel so good.” You mumbled, your brain foggy from the feeling of him being buried inside of you.
He mumbled something you didn’t quite understand before pulling out almost all the way before thrusting back into you completely. He did this a few more times before letting out a guttural groan, spilling into you.
This caught you completely off guard. Quinn had never finished this quickly before nor had he cum before you did. When he came to, he realized what had happened.
“Shit.” He mumbled, too embarrassed to move or even look you in the eyes.
You cleared your throat, pressing a soft kiss to kiss lips. “It’s fine, babe.” You pushed his body back, pushing him out of you. “I can just use my hand.”
He shook his head, finding his voice once again. “No, let me do it. I don’t- I don’t know what happened.”
Break my heart and I swear I'm movin' on
With your favorite athlete
Shoot his shot every night
Want you every second, don't need other guys
You were scrolling on your phone, swiping up on all the notifications you were getting from Instagram, seeing as you had just posted. 
Quinn was featured in a few of the pictures, drawing the attention of his friends and fans to your account. Your head was propped up on Quinn’s lap as you lay on the couch as he played his video game on the living room TV. 
One notification caught your eye as you furrowed your eyebrows seeing the DM request that had come through. 
‘rjosi90 wants to send you a message.’
“Hey babe? Who’s this?” You asked, turning your phone around to show him the account.
He paused his game, looking down to look. “You don’t know who Roman Josi is? He was that guy you met at the awards ceremony, remember?”
“Oh! The one you never shut up about!” You teased as soon as you remembered the name.
Quinn rolled his eyes, nodding at your words before resuming his game but keeping his attention on your conversation. “What did he send you?”
You opened the message, your eyes widening as you internally debated on telling him the truth, not knowing how he would react. But, you knew you wouldn’t want him lying to you if he got the same message from another woman, so you decided to be honest.
“He said he thinks I’m pretty and that you’re a lucky guy.” You read, eyes quickly flashing back to Quinn.
His cheeks were red and his eyebrows were knitted together. You looked at his hands, which were now gripping his controller so tight that his knuckles were going white. “Are you gonna respond?”
Hesitantly, you shook your head, “Not if you don’t want me to.” 
Quinn had never been an insecure person, but he wasn’t always confident. And your delayed reaction probably didn’t help. You let out a breath before grabbing the controller out of his grip and setting it to the side. 
You sat up, swinging your legs on either side of his lap and taking his face in between your hands. “Hey. I want you. Only you.”
You pressed a kiss on his lips which he barely returned out of his own frustration. Pulling back, you started to litter kisses all over his face in an attempt to cheer him up. Trailing from his lips to his cheeks, then to his jaw, and stopping on his neck. You sucked on a sweet spot that caused his hands to come up and settle on your hips. 
“I don’t want anyone but you, Quinn.”
You do somethin' sus, kiss my cute ass bye
As you stepped into his room, he quickly shut off his phone and turned it face down. You furrowed your eyebrows as you stood in the doorway.
“Am I interrupting something?” You questioned.
He shook his head rapidly, clearing his throat as he rubbed his hands together before walking over to you. “Just caught me off guard.”
You scanned his face. His cheeks were flushed and his face was sweaty. Not wanting the answer you thought it was, you gave him a look before speaking again. “Was just gonna ask if you wanted to watch a movie with me. But if you’re… busy, I can just watch it by myself.” 
Quinn cleared his throat, “Uh, yeah. Let me just do something really quick and I’ll be right out.”
You simply shook your head, walking out of his room and heading back to your room and laying down on your bed with your laptop in front of you as you curled up in a blanket waiting for your boyfriend.
Even though the two rooms were separated by a small hallway, the walls were still relatively thin. You heard his door open and close but his feet remained still. You could hear the noise of his phone keyboard in front of your door, typing one last thing out before he walked into your room.
“So what movie are we watching, pretty girl?” He asked, setting his phone on your bedside table.
You eyed his phone before looking at him, “Everything okay?” 
He gave you a confused look, “Yeah, why?”
“Sounded like you were typing something important.” You shrugged, not wanting to make a big deal out of what could be nothing.
But, his wide eyes told you everything you needed to know. You sat up, raising your eyebrows in a way that said “Tell me what’s going on.”
Quinn shifted on his feet. “My ex texted me. She was saying she wanted to meet me for dinner and…” He cut himself off.
“And what?” You pressed.
“She wants to try again.”
You scoffed, “Okay. What did you say?”
He took a breath before answering, “I told her about us and that I’ll pass on the dinner because I’m very happy with you.” The way his words came out, you didn’t fully believe him. Yet at the same time, his face and body language told you he was telling the truth. You could tell he was nervous telling you, but you knew he wasn’t lying.
You nodded your head, “Okay.”
“Okay? What does that mean? I can show you the texts if you want!” He rambled.
Pulling him down onto the bed with you, you wrapped the blanket around him as well before setting the laptop in a way where you could both see it while lying down.
“I trust you, Q. If you say that’s what you told her, I believe you.” You whispered.
Boy, it's not that complicated
You should stay in my good graces
Or I'll switch it up like that so fast
'Cause no one's more amazin'
At turnin' lovin' into hatred x2
I won't give a fuck about you x3
Oh, no
I won't give a fuck about you (Oh) x3 
Oh
No, I won't
I won't give a fuck about you, no, I won't
(I won't, I won't, I won't) x2
Quinn sat in the parking lot of Roger’s Arena. You had driven home early, wanting to beat the traffic seeing as the score by the middle of the third period was 0-4. 
The loss of the game and your going home early left Quinn thinking. 
You didn’t need him. 
Sure, you loved him and you loved living with him and the company and affection he gave you, but at the end of the day, you were completely fine being alone. 
The realization had Quinn wiping a few stray tears from his cheeks as he started up the engine of his car. He drove back in silence, hoping you’d be showering and in bed by the time he got home. 
As he focused on the scenery around him in the late hours of the night, that feeling of sadness fizzled into a feeling of relief. If for whatever reason Quinn left you, you would be okay. And now that he understood that, he became even more determined not to lose you.
Because regardless, Quinn Hughes didn’t want to live in a world where you weren’t his.
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jimxnslight · 2 days
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Fool's Gold || Part III
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Summary: Sweet Y/N, with her fluffy pastel dresses, soft makeup, and ditzy mannerisms. She’s seen as a fool in a world where there is no place for such things, but little do they know, the only fools are them.
Pairing: mafia leader!Jungkook x mafia leader's daughter!reader
Genre: mafia au, arranged marriage au
Word Count: 15.5k
Warnings: most warnings associated with mafia fics (e.g. gun/physical violence, blood, dead bodies, etc), additional warnings might be added as the story progresses
A/N: it's finally here! Sorry for the wait, things have just been really busy lately... but I hope you enjoy!
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<< previous part || masterlist || next part >>
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Living with you has been an absolute nightmare.
Obviously Jungkook had known that dropping poison in his champagne and whiskey wouldn’t be the end of your little assassination attempt; he’d expected you to continue doing whatever was in your power to make good on your threat. He may have been a little cocky about it too, teasing you over the fact that he was standing before you unscathed, but the logical part of him still knew to keep his guard up constantly. 
What he hadn’t realised was how exhausting it would all be. 
You’d been here only four days and Jungkook had already had to evade poison in his toothpaste, a suspicious looking pin wedged into the insole of his shoe, and garlic juice in his cologne- the last one seeming far from a homicide attempt and closer to just pissing him off. 
Dealing with that alone was one thing, because it wasn’t something he couldn’t handle. But on top of it all, Jungkook hadn’t slept properly in days. He’d found himself dozing off for a few minutes here and there while holed up in his office at night occasionally, but he had mostly just stuck to spending his nights working, especially on the Park issue. He couldn’t risk actually sleeping in his office considering he knew that you had the ability to bypass the lock. And besides, as much as he would appreciate a few extra hours of sleep, Jungkook still had to be ready for if Jimin decided to attack again, even if he’d been quiet so far.
One of those preparations involved speaking with your father, which was why you and Jungkook were seated in one of the guest houses at 8:00 AM in the morning while your father was sat casually on the creme-coloured settee across from the mahogany coffee table before you both. The guest house was situated near the gates of Jungkook’s estate, still within its borders, but far enough that it had its own entrance and ensured guests wouldn’t end up too close to his house, just how he liked it. 
The initial meeting with your father had been awkward, though Jungkook may have been the only one to catch onto it. Your father hadn’t embraced you or kissed your cheek or told you how much he missed you, instead he had sent a formal nod in your direction before giving Jungkook a firm handshake. After that your father had barely spared you a glance, addressing Jungkook as if he were the only one in the room. You didn’t seem very offended by this either, your gaze instead drifting around the space looking almost bored as the two men conversed casually for a few minutes. 
It was an interesting detail, one Jungkook tucked into the back of his sleep-deprived mind. 
“The differences between the North and South have surprised me a ton,” Mr. Lee commented, taking a sip from the teacup in his hand. His accent was rough, no doubt a product of his upbringing in the South, “you guys do things a lot more softly here in the North.”
It was a jab, Jungkook wasn’t stupid enough not to know that, especially knowing how rough things were in the South. That comment was enough for him to know that your father was the type of man that liked to put others down to make himself seem superior. It only amused Jungkook though, because as per the culture, your father already had a bit of an upper hand since he was older, and yet he still felt the need to talk down to him.
Distantly, he wondered if your father’s personality had something to do with why you decided to hide your true personality even from him. 
“Yes, I suppose so,” Jungkook decided to reply dryly, not bothering to bite back. If he had learned anything, it was how to choose his battles, and an ego trip was not worth it in his books. 
Instead his gaze drifted towards your seemingly aloof form. It was a bit unnerving to see you look so quiet and proper, almost like he was being shown a third side of you. Your facade was still definitely up though, no one could miss the slight widening of your eyes and faint pout of your lips to feign an innocent look, but this version of your act was definitely more placid. 
Jungkook’s gaze travelled back to your father as he smiled, a sudden urge to get you to react overtaking him, “it’s definitely been an adjustment for your daughter.”
At your mention, your wandering eyes were reeled back to meet the gazes of the two men before you once again, but, unlike during the dinner with Taehyung and Chaewon, that was the extent of your reaction to the obvious dig. Jungkook’s eyes narrowed in your direction as you continued to sit silently beside him, an innocent expression still painting your already heavily painted features. 
Despite the topic, Mr. Lee’s gaze stayed fixed on Jungkook, “hope she hasn’t been too much trouble. She used to be quite the spitfire growing up, but thankfully I fixed her right up before she could bring that attitude into adulthood. Can’t imagine how I would’ve gotten her married if I hadn’t.”
The room became quiet as Jungkook shifted uncomfortably in his place, your father’s words, which sounded so casual on his tongue, unable to settle comfortably within him. Jungkook wasn’t so naive as to believe that “fixed her up” alluded to gentle parenting and stern lectures. And if his guesses as to how your father might have disciplined you growing up were correct, then you had his sympathies. Jungkook’s childhood wasn’t exactly filled with rainbows and butterflies, the son of a mafia leader’s childhood never is, but everything his father had done was for the betterment of the Jeons, not so Jungkook could be a good slave to a spouse. 
“No,” he finally decided to answer, “she hasn’t been any trouble at all.”
If your father’s comment had bothered you, you didn’t show it. But Jungkook was still eager to change the subject. 
Before he could, however, he was surprised when he felt you straighten up beside him and beat him to it. 
“How is Hannah doing, father?”
Despite all his research, Jungkook had no clue who Hannah was. He’d never even heard of the name before, which he found surprising considering how well he made sure to research the Lees before his marriage. Nevertheless it was clear to him that whoever this Hannah was, she was important. You’d asked the question with your usual soft voice, a casual hint in your tone, but Jungkook had known you long enough at this point to see past your act. He could see the way your gaze had turned calculating, taking in each and every expression that flitted across your father’s face as he took a sip from his teacup before he finally allowed himself to take you in. 
“She's doing fine,” he answered after a moment, voice void of any emotion, “very fine actually.”
Jungkook didn’t miss the subtle jump in your eyebrows at his words, so subtle that he doubted your father would notice it even though he was finally acknowledging your presence. 
“But you should start worrying more about this place, Y/N. This is your home now after all.”
Your gaze immediately dropped at his words as you gave him a timid nod, ditzy Y/N clearly back in full swing. Most would have witnessed this interaction and seen a loving daughter being rejected by her cold, heartless father. But looking past your act of innocence, Jungkook couldn’t help but feel that there was more to this interaction than that. The relationship you had with your father was weird. If Jungkook hadn’t known either of you, he wouldn’t have guessed that you were more than mere acquaintances with how distant you both seemed. No love, no animosity, just… impassive.
And yet, despite this clearly uncommunicative relationship, you’d spoken up only once in this entire conversation to ask about a person named Hannah - or rather you had wanted confirmation about something regarding Hannah, and judging from the way your expression had returned to that naively bored look, you had gotten the confirmation you were seeking. Neither of you had offered to identify who Hannah was to Jungkook either, so he doubted asking would prove to be very useful. 
If only Jungkook had the mind to figure everything out on his own at this moment. He’d already had to stifle three yawns since the beginning of the conversation, all of which he was able to hide only because your father had initially seemed very interested in scanning the contents of the guest house. Hopefully he’d get better at hiding his exhaustion as the day progressed, he had a long day ahead of him after all. 
Your father caught Jungkook’s attention once again when he leaned forward to place his empty teacup on the mahogany coffee table in front of him. The teacup clinked against the wood before he leaned back into the settee, giving Jungkook a questioning look. 
“So, now that we’ve got the chit chat out of the way, why’d you need to see me so desperately?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest. Jungkook ignored the arrogant structuring of his words once again, gaze instead drifting to you, who was keenly scanning the front page of a newspaper that had been haphazardly placed on the coffee table to give the room a more homey feel. 
He wasn’t entirely sure whether you knew anything about Jimin’s attack on the West Docks. Yes, you had broken into his office once, but Jungkook didn’t leave important stuff like that just lying around so technically you didn’t have any way of knowing about it. Jungkook preferred if you didn’t, because obviously the less you knew the better. You were trying to kill him after all, and as much as he liked to make a joke out of it, he wasn’t dumb enough not to at least partially take it seriously. 
So Jungkook shifted in his seat to face you, the action catching your previously wandering attention, before he placed a hand on your knee. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t hesitant, but thankfully you didn’t flinch at the contact. 
“Why don’t you go freshen up, princess? Your father and I have some business to discuss, and then after that you and I have somewhere to be.”
Jungkook watched your eyebrows twitch, though whether it was from the nickname or in question of where the two of you would be heading he didn’t know. But then your gaze flickered to your father’s direction for a moment before you quietly nodded. 
You stood from the settee, ignoring the way Jungkook’s hand, which had been resting on your knee, brushed against your skin as it fell. When you faced your father, hands clutched before you, he was already looking up at you with a familiarly indifferent expression. 
“It was nice seeing you again, father,” you said formally, keeping your voice light and soft as you offered him a small bow. You were returned a formal nod, another familiar action, before you turned away from the two men and pushed through the double doors of the guest house. 
A deep sigh escaped your lips the moment you heard the door shut behind you, feeling as though someone had lifted an anvil off your chest. Your father’s presence had always felt suffocating, you were just glad that the two of you being in the same room has also always been a rare occurrence in itself. 
You didn’t have time to dwell on that fact as the beauty of Jungkook’s estate now stood before you in all its glory. Lush green grass surrounding a stone walkway, colourful flowers popping out of strategically placed beds, and large, but maintained, Japanese Maple trees scattered here and there were all organised neatly to form a breathtaking courtyard. 
This was the one thing you could unconditionally appreciate about Jungkook’s estate. Most leaders’ estates screamed money with the various marble statues of themselves and their families littering their front yards and excessive landscaping drenching the flowers and grass in stone and metal. But Jungkook’s was filled with greenery, as if you were walking through an enormous garden. You loved it. 
While surveying the area your gaze dropped to the stone pathway before you, the one you and Jungkook had walked through to get to the guest house and also the one you were certain Jungkook was expecting you to take after being kicked out of said guest house. You stared at it for no more than three seconds, not even bothering to think it over, before you spun around in your spot and pressed your ear to the door you had just emerged from. 
There was something wrong. 
Although alliances were a very uncommon thing in the South, you were still smart enough to know that business deals between allies should be eased into slowly, not started four days after a marriage. This meeting was happening way too soon, which made you doubt it was business-related at all. 
Jungkook needed something from the Lees. The only question was what?
After leaning quietly against the door for a few minutes, you were only able to pick up a few words here and there between quick stifled yawns. It would’ve disappointed you if it wasn’t for the one name you managed to catch Jungkook say as clear day.
Park Jimin.
The leader of the Parks. The man whose close friend consisted of the ruthless Min Yoongi, leader of the Mins. Both mafias were located north of Taehyung and Jungkook’s territories. Personally, you’ve never heard of any ongoing disputes between the four, but if Jungkook was mentioning Park’s name in a meeting with your father, there had to be something going on. 
That would be perfect, because if you killed Jungkook while he was having a feud with Jimin, then Jungkook’s death would be more likely to be pinned on Jimin, allowing you to bear no consequences and be sent back to the Lees without a scratch. 
Except… it wasn’t perfect, because killing Jungkook had proven to be a lot harder than you had anticipated.
Killing your first husband had been child’s play. Even after you’d grabbed the gun from his waistband and shot him twice in the chest, his men had taken one look at the scene and ruled you out before you had even had the chance to construct a detailed tale of an assassin that had come through the window and shot him dead. They had been complete idiots, entirely unable to see the doe-eyed girl with frilly pink dresses and a soft airy voice as anything more than that. 
But this case was an entirely different challenge. You’d realised on the very night of your wedding that the people around Jungkook, as well as Jungkook himself of course, were not as stupid. You knew that if you tried to pull the same stunt again, you’d be pinned for the murder eventually. It’s why you hadn't even bothered to search for some kind of weapon in Jungkook’s mansion, nor had you tried to steal the gun you knew stayed sat on Jungkook’s waistband at every moment of the day. If you used a weapon to kill Jungkook, you’d be caught. 
That’s why you had stuck to poisons as your main choice of weapon. The collection of toxins you had managed to smuggle into the mansion, all thanks to Persilla of course, was made to make kills look like nature’s fate. Yet, despite dropping toxins into anything that could possibly make contact with Jungkook’s mouth or skin for the past four days, your efforts were proving to be futile. Jungkook’s knack for catching onto small details was just a difficult barrier to overcome. 
You knew H hadn’t sent you that note to pressure you into speeding up Jungkook’s murder, and you hadn’t taken it in that way at first, but now that four days had passed you were beginning to think about changing your methods. It would be more complicated, but you needed to get this done quickly. 
A gun would be the best way to finish him off in your opinion; it was the one weapon you were a master of and getting a hold of one shouldn’t be too difficult with all the guards milling around the estate. Then all you’d need to do was get Jungkook alone, shoot him dead, and then plant some evidence that pointed towards the Parks. You’d need to be careful, but it was doable a-
“Now look what I’ve found.”
You snapped away from the door and whirled around, startled entirely as a male voice suddenly spoke up from behind you. You were met with the view of a man, one you’ve never seen before, standing a couple metres away from your form, his hair as light brown as his eyes. He stood with his hands in the pockets of his dark jeans, while the buttons of his white polo shirt were open to reveal a sliver of his neck. 
“I seem to have caught a nosy little mouse.”
You wanted to ask him who he was and what he was doing here. Anyone within the gates of Jungkook’s estate had to be close to him, you’d learned that much during your stay here. Yet, Jungkook had failed to mention this man at all. 
But before you could voice your questions, the man stepped forward, brown dress shoes tapping against the stone beneath you both, and held out a hand, “I’m Daehyun, Jungkook’s cousin. We haven’t formally been introduced.”
Tentatively, because you still had an act to uphold, you reached out to shake his hand, making sure to keep your grip weak, “I’m Y/N.”
Then you remembered that eavesdropping on a conversation between Jungkook and your dad may not seem like the most innocent thing to Daehyun. So you quickly mustered up a believable excuse. 
“I swear I wasn’t trying to listen to their conversation! I just…”
You paused, pretending to shy away from him to give the illusion that you were embarrassed to admit the blatant lie that was about to escape your lips.
“I just wanted to know if Jungkook would talk about me,” you said, keeping your gaze on the ground as you started fidgeting with your fingers, “he’s not the most talkative man with me, so I just wanted to see if he would admit anything to my father.”
“Mhmm,” Daehyun replied, and you couldn’t help but feel that the tone of his voice gave the impression that he wasn’t paying attention. Finding that strange, you lifted your gaze from the ground hesitantly and observed him. The sight made you grimace inwardly. 
Daehyun’s lack of interest could be explained by the fact that he was too busy raking his eyes across your body, taking in your bare legs and neck, almost as if he were entranced. You noticed his fingers twitch as he took in the frills of your pink dress and the silk bow holding up half your hair. 
“God, you don’t look a day over 19,” he commented, as if you weren’t even there and he was simply talking to himself, “how old are you, darling?”
This was far from the first time a guy had looked at you as though you were a piece of meat. In fact, your act seemed to garner a lot more attention from the male species than it should. You liked to think that all the years of this had made you immune to moments like these, but deep down you knew it still made your skin crawl.
That being said, the implications of Daehyun’s words were beginning to register in your mind. This was Jungkook’s cousin, his family. It was customary for all male members of mafia families to have a gun with them at all times, which meant that there was a very high probability that, if Daehyun were to turn around, you would catch sight of a shiny black gun wedged into his waistband. He didn’t seem like the intelligent type to you either, which meant this would be a better opportunity to steal a gun compared to snagging one from a constantly alert guard. 
All you needed to do was get him a little closer to you. 
“Twenty-three,” you finally answered, keeping your voice soft and innocent-sounding. You took the opportunity to take a timid step forward, one that seemed to go unnoticed by Daehyun.
Instead he nodded, as if in approval of your answer, “Jungkook really hit the jackpot with you, didn’t he… I expect you’ll age beautifully. Lucky bastard.”
You pushed down the urge to throw up in your mouth. If you were being honest with yourself, you didn’t think you had it in you to lead him on in order to steal the gun. He was just way too slimy, saying things that were way too gross. 
But turns out, you didn’t really need to say anything as Daehyun took another step towards you, leaving only a hand’s length between yourself and him. You automatically felt yourself tense. If it were up to you, you’d have grabbed his shirt and kicked him where the sun doesn’t shine. But you were ditzy Y/N at the moment, and ditzy Y/N couldn’t fight back. 
Instead you tried to focus on the gun. He was close enough that you could snake your arm behind him without him noticing, but he still needed to get a little closer for you to grab it. 
“Relax, darling,” Daehyun soothed, and to both your distaste and relief he placed a hand on your shoulder, closing the distance you needed. Your hand crept forward slowly, stopping at his waistband, “you don’t need to be so tense-”
“Daehyun.”
Crap.
Your empty hand shot back to your side as your gaze snapped to the source of the voice, Daehyun’s following suit less quickly. Jungkook was shutting the door of the guest house behind him, dark eyes fixed on the hand on your shoulder. His voice had been low, the threat in them evident. Yet, Daehyun smiled, instead taking his time in removing his hand from your shoulder and taking a step back. 
“Jungkook,” he nodded, his hands returning to his pockets, “your wife and I were just having a small chat.”
You searched the space behind Jungkook, finding no sign of your father. The guest house had two exits, one that led into Jungkook’s estate and another that led outside of it. Your father must have gone through the latter. 
Jungkook gained your attention once again when he took a few steps forward, his sharp gaze fixed on Daehyun, “you can talk without touching.”
Daehyun raised his hands in mock surrender as Jungkook paused in front of you, scanning you from head to toe for a second, before he grabbed your wrist and began dragging you away from him, barely sparing him another glance as he started on the stone pathway you knew led to his mansion. There was this one patch of the pathway that you noticed hid the two of you from the attentive eyes of the guards. You took that opportunity to drop your act of innocence. 
“Cousin of yours?” You asked with an eyebrow raised. 
“Unfortunately.”
Your brows furrowed as you watched Jungkook spit out the word through gritted teeth, keeping his face forward. He was angry. He didn’t like Daehyun, you realised. Yet he seemed to have free access to his house? That didn’t make any sense.
You watched the patch eventually give way to a large circular driveway that laid before the front doors of Jungkook’s mansion. There was a sleek black car already parked on the grey concrete, obscured slightly by the fountain in the circle’s centre. It probably had something to do with what Jungkook was talking about earlier, about how there was somewhere the two of you would be going. 
With your innocent facade back up, because you noticed guards milling around this part of the estate, you turned to Jungkook with a curious look, “where are we going?”
He paused for a moment as his gaze dropped on you, and you immediately knew he was choosing his next words carefully, making sure to pick the ones that only allowed you to know as much as he wanted you to. 
“We’re going to meet some families,” he finally answered, but you’d already become distracted as you noticed a guard walk up to the window of the black car and begin speaking with the driver, the exposed gun at his hip suddenly looking very attractive to you especially after your failed attempt at snatching Daehyun’s. 
“And why is that?” You asked him absentmindedly, wondering if there was any way you could grab the weapon. You’d only need to brush past the guard for a moment to grab and shove it into the holster at your thigh. You knew the frills of your dress would do an amazing job at hiding its outline as well, even from eyes like Jungkook’s.
“There was an accident at the West Docks and a few workers died. We’re going to meet with the families and pay our respects.”
Your attention snapped back to Jungkook, the reminder to keep your expression light coming just a millisecond too late. It was a practically microscopic reaction, but it was enough for Jungkook to pick up on, making him tilt his head in question.
“I’m sorry, what?” You asked without much thought, because you honestly didn’t have anything smarter to say. Why was a mafia leader paying respects to people who weren't part of the family?
You weren't an idiot; it was no coincidence that Jungkook mentioned an incident taking place at the docks around the same time he had a meeting with your father in which he was mentioning Park Jimin’s name. You’d pieced together that said “incident” was more likely some kind of attack, and the one responsible for said attack was probably Park Jimin. If Jimin had attacked Jungkook’s docks, then that meant he was testing how strong the Jeons were at the moment, which further meant that he was interested in taking over the territory. Obviously Jungkook would have wanted to ensure that he had your father’s support if things were to escalate. 
People would have died in the attack at the West Docks, that’s how it always worked. Hell, people died at the borders all the time in the South since there was so much animosity between the territories there. 
But that’s just how things worked, or at least that’s what you’d heard mafia leaders parrot to each other growing up. “They knew what they were signing up for.” “They’re doing it for the sake of the mafia.” It was the kind of thinking that you loathed, and that exact thinking that you hoped to dismantle bit by bit until everyone, not just you, could see the flaws behind it. 
Yet… here Jungkook was, saying he wanted to value those lives lost by paying respects to their mourning families…
It was unbelievable. 
However, before either of you could speak, the door of the parked car opened to reveal a man wearing a standard suit. He stepped out onto the concrete, only to turn around in his place and open the door to the backseat. He continued to stay like that, patiently waiting for the two of you. 
Jungkook was the first to move, walking around the car to open the door himself and disappear behind the sleek black metal, while you eventually followed behind him, giving the man a soft thank you before sinking into the backseat beside your husband. In a matter of seconds, the doors were shut and you felt the car begin to move beneath you. 
There was an unfamiliar silence as you peered through the tinted windows, watching as the car passed through the front gates before submerging into a thick forest. The four days you’ve been at Jungkook’s mansion had been full of constant bickering, that was until someone else would enter the room. Then suddenly you were clasping your hands in front of you and bowing with a soft smile, all while Jungkook hid his cocky grins. 
“What? No snappy comebacks today?” Jungkook spoke, probably feeling the uncharacteristic silence as well. Despite noticing that there was a divider between the driver and you both, meaning there was no reason for you to keep your act up, you didn’t answer. 
You didn’t know why his earlier words weren’t sitting well with you. Just because Jungkook dropped a few condolences here and there didn’t make him a good person. He was the leader of a mafia after all, and you’d met enough of them to know the kind of people they were: cruel, merciless, and lacking in respect for the ones outside their families. Even the level of care they had for their families was questionable. 
But still… this was throwing you off.
You turned around in your seat as a sudden thought came to mind, causing Jungkook’s gaze to shift from the window to your form. 
“What do you mean by paying respect?” You asked. Perhaps the phrase meant something different in the North. Perhaps instead of meeting the families and expressing empathy for their loss, he was going to lecture them on the need for martyrs and how the families owed the Jeons for letting them live in their territories. Yes, that made a lot more sense to you. 
Jungkook, on the other hand, was looking at you as if you’d gone insane. 
“I won’t even begin to answer that question,” he scoffed. But then he seemed to consider something for a moment, probably the fact that you would also be the one paying respects and not knowing what that was might be a hindrance to his perfect image, and spoke with an annoyed sigh, “we will be meeting with the families, relaying a few comforting words. Let them know that we will be supporting them from now on so they can focus solely on overcoming their grief rather than on how they’ll make ends meet moving forward.”
You turned back to your window with a frustrated breath, his answer doing nothing to dissipate your confusion. You might have also faced away from him to hide a stifled yawn. Car rides tended to make you sleepy, and in combination with the fact that you haven’t slept properly throughout your stay at the Jeon Mansion, it was taking a lot of willpower to keep your mind alert at the moment. 
“Considering that this will be our first official public appearance, I should also repeat how crucial it will be for you to act like a good wife.”
You rolled your eyes as a huff escaped your lips, “Yeah, I get it.”
“If you getting it means you’ll act better than the way you acted in front of your father, then good,” he commented, which made you turn to him once again with a brow raised. 
“What is that supposed to mean? I was fine in front of my father.”
Jungkook shrugged, “you could have been better.”
“How?”
He thought for a moment, mulling it over before he responded with an amused look, “when you were leaving the room, you stood up and just let my hand fall away to the side. Some would take that as a sign that you’re mad at me.”
“I am not going to kiss the ground you walk on just so that a few jobless people will keep their mouths shut,” you shot back. If you were having any qualms about killing him earlier they were entirely gone now. You were going to enjoy each and every moment of gutting the man at your side, not even the slightest hint of guilt.
“Not to mention how quiet you were,” he continued, but this time you could feel the weight of his gaze deepen, “you do know that we’ll have to actually speak to the families, right?”
There was a silent curiosity in his eyes that he didn’t voice, but you knew it was there, though for what exactly it was for you didn’t know. Was he questioning why you were so quiet? If that were the case, you didn’t have an answer; you hadn’t even realised you’d been so quiet during the meeting. Or was he curious about Hannah? You doubted it. With all the research he had done on the Lees and your territory, you guessed he already knew who she was. 
“Relax, Jungkook,” you waved him off, “I’ve been acting as someone else for years. You’ll get your nice and loving wife.”
With that settled you turned back to the window, stifling another yawn with your hand. 
-
-
-
The first thing you notice when you wake up is the fact that you were actually waking up, meaning that at some point during the ride you had fallen asleep. The second thing you noticed as you were waking up was that whatever thing you were leaning on did not feel like the inner side of a car door. That second realisation had you sitting up in your seat instantly, eyes shooting open to understand the situation. 
Outside you could see that there were no longer thick-trunked trees surrounding the road in which you drove on, instead replaced by groups of houses and small apartment buildings. You watched as kids playing in the roughened streets stopped to stare at the sleek black car, their parents no different as they tried to see through the tinted windows with unfiltered curiosity. 
You turned away from the window to take in Jungkook, whose shoulder you realised you’d made your pillow while you’d fallen asleep, only to have your eyes widen. 
To your surprise, Jungkook had fallen asleep as well, with his head resting back against the headrest and lips just slightly parted. Small puffs of breath rhythmically escaped from between them when he exhaled, a telltale sign that he truly was asleep and not just resting his eyes or something. 
The image had you frozen for a moment. He looked so… peaceful. Not that he always looked stressed out. Despite having a killer for a wife, Jungkook seemed to be pretty relaxed most of the time, amused even. But this was a different kind of peace, one that came with a complete lack of thoughts, making him look almost innocent - not the hard leader that you knew him to be. 
Without his gaze on yours preventing it, you also noticed things that you’d never really noticed about him before. Like the length of his eyelashes, or the strong dip of his jawline. His lips had a red undertone and rounded into a slight pout, while his skin was flawless - not a very common characteristic amongst leaders, though not many were as young as Jungkook - aside from the end of a faded scar peeking from behind the collar of his black shirt. The side of his hair that was facing you was slightly ruffled, as if his head had been leaning against something before it had moved to lean against the seat behind him. 
God this man was fine. 
You forced your gaze forward, realising that you were staring. Were you really so deprived that you were finding the man that you were supposed to kill hot? Well, in your defence, you had eyes. Also in your defence, the leaders in the South were all old and slimy dudes that should have been put down years ago. Just looking at Jungkook was like a breath of fresh air after drowning.
But then you paused, realising the weight of the situation. Jungkook was asleep, the same Jungkook who you knew had a gun wedged into his waistband at this very moment. It was risky, he’d definitely notice it missing when he woke up considering his attention to detail, but if you were to grab the gun, and then immediately get out of the car, he’d have no choice but to let you hold onto it until the two of you were out of the public’s eye. It would be more than enough time to secretly kill him and then plant evidence incriminating Jimin. 
Judging from the houses outside, you deemed that you both were close enough to the destination that you could hop out of the car immediately after it stopped. So you turned around, making sure to keep your movements as slow as possible, before you snaked an arm around his torso. You could feel the soft inside of his black blazer as your hand slipped beneath it, fingers just barely ghosting over his equally black dress shirt. It was unlucky that his gun was on the side of his waist facing away from you, but thankfully after checking to make sure he was still asleep, which he was, your fingers wrapped around the metal handle. 
Or at least you thought he had been asleep, because as you pulled the gun from its confines, a hand suddenly engulfing yours made you flinch. 
Your gaze snapped up to him, surprised when you found him wide awake and staring back at you. In all honesty, it wasn’t the fact that you were caught that had you frozen like a deer in headlights, Jungkook was well aware of your intentions, but rather the position that you were in. You’d used your left hand to grab his gun, which left your entire front to be pressed against his chest, while your right hand was resting on his other side, practically caging him against the seat of the car. Barely a breath’s distance separated your face with his, making the intensity of his stare all the more intimidating. 
You tried to pull away from him, but his hand brushed higher to wrap around your wrist and keep you in place, dark brown eyes still boring into yours.
“Put it back.”
It shouldn’t have, but the deepness of his voice sent a tiny shiver down your spine, one that you did everything in your power to make sure Jungkook couldn’t notice. You’d rather be caught dead than having Jungkook think you were into him in any way whatsoever. 
A small part of you, the same one that had persuaded you to drop a good amount of garlic into his cologne just yesterday, also reasoned that you’d never be caught dead taking orders from him as well. Logically speaking, there was no way you could save this attempt at taking his gun, he’d caught you and that was that. And yet, despite that, you didn’t move, hand still clutching the gun which was now hovering over his waistband. 
You felt Jungkook’s fingers tighten slightly around the soft skin of your wrist, the lack of your movement not going unnoticed by him. 
“Put it back, Y/N.”
It only made you want to do the opposite, just to piss him off a bit more, but you knew you were only delaying the inevitable. So, with the tiny devil at your shoulder retreating back to wherever it had come from and with a frustrated breath escaping your lips, you slowly pushed the gun back into his waistband. The action was slow, still dragging it out for as long as possible, until you felt the trigger guard push against the edge of the cloth. Yet, even when you let the handle drop from your grasp, Jungkook’s hand didn’t drop from your wrist. Instead, the edges of his lips twitched upwards.
“So we’ve moved on from poisons now?” He asked instead, voice low as his satisfied gaze stayed fixed on yours, “is my whiskey finally free from your terror?”
Your reply was quick, though your voice was just as low and breathy as his, “I wouldn’t start trusting it just yet.”
You really meant that, considering the new bottles of whiskey Jungkook had ordered had already been spiked not even an hour after they’d been placed in his cabinet. You knew that he knew, making the action pointless, but you were weak in front of that little devil at your shoulder. 
The abrupt sound of the car’s door opening made you jerk back into your seat, ripping your empty hand from Jungkook’s, as you quickly fixed the ruffles in your dress. By the time the driver’s face appeared at the doorway, you were offering him an innocent smile, making sure to keep your eyes bright and lips stuck in a perpetually delighted turn. An amused breath escaped Jungkook as he turned to open his own door. You hadn’t even realised that the car had come to a stop. 
You accepted the driver’s hand as he extended it towards you, the short heel of your white shoes tapping against the grey concrete while you stepped out of the car, grateful suddenly for the fresh air. 
You didn’t know what exactly you were expecting when Jungkook had said that you were going to meet with families. Mostly you had pictured a stage, one that he would stand and speak on, and then a crowd of families standing before it paying close attention to his every word. But there was no such stage in sight, in fact, as you looked around the area you noticed that there was nothing out of the ordinary; just a simple neighbourhood with kids playing in the cracked street and parents standing in their worn front porches. Everyone was staring though, curious eyes staying fixed on Jungkook, and then on you. 
It was a bit daunting if you were being entirely honest with yourself. Yes, you were the daughter of a mafia leader, but you’d never actually been made to make public appearances like this, much less speak at them. Daughters of leaders were more like decoration pieces, hidden away until they were married off. 
Jungkook rounded the car until he was standing at your side, an arm wrapping snuggly around your waist. The action had been hesitant, as if he expected you to push him away or flinch at the touch, but you were beyond trying to fight whatever image of perfection Jungkook was trying to sell; there were bigger issues you needed to worry about now. And maybe a tiny part of you found comfort in it as you noticed all the eyes that were on you now. It was your first public appearance in the Jeon Territory after all, everyone would be curious about the Jeon Jungkook’s new wife. You needed to appear shy for the sake of your act, but you were still able to notice the mixed reactions, some confused, some sceptical, but most were just surprised. 
Jungkook also seemed to be scanning the crowd before he turned towards you, whispering the words in your ear, “let’s get going.”
You didn’t have time to notice the fuss that action had caused in a group of girls before you both began following a guard into a house on your right. He guided you through the doorway, the door already wide open, as you made your way towards what seemed like a living room. The space had a homey vibe, pictures of the family scattered across the walls and lit candles placed on the tables, but it was clear that whoever lived here was struggling: the paint was peeling off the walls, the wooden floor was littered with scuffs and dents, and the furniture looked a day away from crumbling. It pained your heart to see the kitchen barren. 
It was only when you and Jungkook managed to squeeze into the small living room that you finally noticed signs of life. There was an old woman sitting on the only sofa in the room, her expression dejected while her form was hunched forward in a way that you knew was a result of grief and not old age. At the sound of your footsteps her head raised, taking in the two of you with pained eyes. 
You had to mask your surprise when you watched Jungkook lower himself onto a knee before her, “hello Mrs. Hwang.”
The woman, Mrs. Hwang, ignored the greeting, instead shaking her head while keeping her gaze on the hands resting in her lap, “I don’t understand. They keep telling me he’s gone, but I just don’t understand… How could he be gone? How could my beautiful son be gone? What happened to him?”
“Mrs. Hwang,” Jungkook said slowly, his brows pulling together in sympathy, “your son and a few other workers were killed in a construction accident at the West Docks. I’m sorry.”
The tears that had been swimming in her eyes finally began to stream down her cheeks, the news coming from the leader of the Jeons finally confirming what she had seemingly been denying for a while, but you could only try to fan the flames of the anger that ignited in your chest. There was no construction accident, there had been an attack orchestrated by Jimin, and normal people who had nothing to do with the territorial feud had suffered the consequences. This poor woman, for example, had lost her son. She deserved to know the real reason he was gone, deserved to belt out her anger at the actual people responsible, not be fed a cover-up story you knew was only being promoted in order to prevent public unrest.
You watched as Jungkook tried to reassure her, his words artfully compassionate and reassuring, wondering just how much of those words he actually meant. He probably didn’t mean many of them, if any at all. Perhaps this was the method in which he maintained his power? Leaders in the South usually asserted their power by ensuring the public feared them, scaring them so much that even the thought of betrayal had them shaking in fear. But Jungkook was a smart man. Perhaps he realised that being loved by the public was a better method of manipulation, one that produced more loyalty. 
You’d been so deep in thought that when you felt the tap of Jungkook’s black dress shoe on your white ones you almost flinched. He was looking up at you with a pointed look, and it was then that you realised that the woman was staring at you as well, as if she were waiting for you to speak. Jungkook’s words, genuine or not, seemed to have stopped the tears that had been flowing down her cheeks while you’d been distracted because there was almost nothing left of them except the water staining her cheeks. 
Sensing your confusion, Jungkook gave Mrs. Hwang a strained smile, “you must excuse her, she’s still getting used to the North. It can be overwhelming at times.”
Mrs. Hwang nodded in understanding before she turned to face you once again. 
“That’s okay dear. I was just wondering how married life has been treating you. My husband passed away so long ago yet I still find myself missing the companionship even now.”
Oh… 
That was not the kind of question you hesitate at if you want people to get a good impression of your and Jungkook’s relationship, and the look on Jungkook’s face at the moment only confirmed those thoughts. 
“It’s been treating me well,” you answered finally, hesitating on what the right thing to say would be in this situation, “he’s been very good to me.”
It was the wrong thing to say, you realised that at the exact moment Jungkook grimaced and tears started to stream down Mrs. Hwang’s face once again. She nodded in your direction, “my husband treated me well too. How I miss him… And now my son is gone as well, who do I have left?”
Your voice died in your throat, mind unable to come up with anything that could possibly comfort the bawling woman who had lost so much. All you could do was stand dumbly and watch her crumble before you, wishing you could crawl into a hole and stay there forever hidden. 
Jungkook, on the other hand, immediately placed a hand on her knee and began to reassure her once again, comforting words falling from his lips like a gentle stream. He reminded her of how her son and husband were in a better place now, of the friends she still has in the neighbourhood, and then of her granddaughter who needed her to be strong. 
At the mention of her granddaughter, the door of the living room suddenly smacked open, revealing a little girl skipping into the room. She was wearing a sparkly pink shirt and washed out jeans which were fraying at the edges, while a worn doll hung from her fingers. Despite this, there was a bright smile on her face as she walked deeper into the room. 
The sight of Jungkook slowed her down in her tracks, replacing the once innocent smile with a deep blush painting her cheeks. Her gaze shifted away from him, clearly shy from her sudden crush. But then she caught sight of her grandmother and her gaze became worried. She made her way to her side quickly before gently placing the doll on her grandmother’s lap, also placing a comforting hand on her arm.
“Don’t cry grandma,” she said with a frown, using her other hand to push a few strands of her grandmother’s hair behind her ear. The girl turned in Jungkook’s direction, though the blush was back and her eyes wouldn’t meet his, “I keep telling her not to be sad, but she keeps crying.”
It was then when she caught sight of someone else in the room, making her turn to face in your direction. Her reaction was immediate, eyes lighting up in excitement as she took in your dress, then your shoes, and then your makeup. The girl quickly jumped from the side of the sofa and skipped over to you, eyes wide in childlike amazement. 
“Your dress!” She squealed, continuing to skip in a circle around you as she scanned you from top to bottom, “it’s so pretty! I’m going to ask Daddy to get me one just like it when he comes back!”
The last sentence felt like a hammer to your chest, and you could see Jungkook’s expression also sadden from behind her. How long would it take this little girl to realise that her father would not be coming back? That his life had been taken from him only because of the cruel way in which this world was structured?
Before you could think much of it, you slowly lowered yourself to the ground, knees touching the cold wood as you became eye to eye with the excited girl before you. It gave her the opportunity to marvel at your hair and the light sparkles on your eyelids, her small hand brushing against the frills of your dress softly as her excitement only heightened. 
“You look just like a princess!” She continued. But then a thought seemed to strike her, suddenly making her shy, “do you think I could grow up to be a princess like you one day?”
You smiled at her, using every bit of your self control not to cry for this little girl and her innocence, “I think you’ll grow up to be an even prettier princess one day.”
Her smile brightened again, her confidence restored in that quick way only a child’s confidence could. You wanted that confidence to stick though, knowing just how quickly the cruelty of this world could destroy it . 
“But do you want me to tell you a little secret?” You asked, to which she nodded hastily, also desperate in that way only children were. 
“You don’t need pink dresses and sparkles to be a princess.” You gently took hold of her hand, giving her tiny fingers a comforting squeeze. This new information seemed to shock her, her eyes widening as a surprised gasp escaped her lips, “what matters is your heart. Your grandmother lost someone very dear to her, and she’ll need someone to help her get through her sadness.”
The girl straightened up immediately, chin rising as if to meet the challenge head on, “don’t worry, Daddy always makes me in charge of helping grandma. I’ll always take care of her.”
“That’s very responsible of you,” you praised.
“I am! I’m very-” She struggled with the words for a moment until she finally seemed to manage the beast, “responsible!”
An amused breath escaped your lips at her childish confidence, despite the sorrow tugging at your heartstrings. 
“And when you realise what you’ve lost,” you continued, this time speaking to the girl she will become when the devastating news finally hits her, “your grandma will be there to get you through it as well. You won’t be alone, okay?”
She nodded innocently, the weight of your words flying over her head. But that was okay, she’d realise their meaning when the time came. You could only hope that they would provide at least some comfort when it really mattered. 
Without another thought, you reached behind your head to unravel the silky pink ribbon in your hair, making sure to smooth it out before you held it out to her. She squealed in delight, grabbing the ribbon and softly running a hand over the silk material. 
But then she suddenly looked up from it and threw her arms around your neck, the spontaneity of the action causing you to flinch. 
“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” She continued to squeal, “I think you’re the best princess in the world!”
With her chin laying on your shoulder, your gaze automatically met Jungkook’s as your hands hesitantly raised to rest on her back. He was still kneeling in front of Mrs. Hwang, but his hand had dropped from her knee to his own, realising that it was unneeded as a fond smile was overtaking her expression at the sight of her happy granddaughter. Jungkook’s expression was unreadable as he watched the girl jump excitedly in your embrace. 
The two of you only stayed a few minutes longer, only because the girl had insisted that you tie the ribbon in her hair, before Jungkook stood and cleared his throat, a clear sign that you both should get going. You hadn’t even realised how heavy the atmosphere had been in the house until you were walking through the doorway, finally able to take in a full breath of fresh air. A guard was already standing before the front door, turning around to lead you both to the next house when he noticed your presence. 
“Well… that was interesting,” Jungkook commented, his face turning in your direction to meet your gaze. 
You were quiet as you followed behind him, making sure to pull your act back up in the process. You hadn’t realised that it had sort of dropped when you began speaking to the girl, the heat of the moment enough to make you forget. 
You didn’t turn to meet his gaze, instead scanning the area and people that surrounded you both as you spoke, “I’m not very good at it.”
His head tilted in question. 
In hindsight, you should have told him earlier, but perhaps you were a tiny bit embarrassed of it. Now, though, the cat was out of the bag, so there was no point in trying to hide it from him now.
“The wife thing? The hugging and laughing and kissing? I can do that,” you finally admitted, “but comforting? I’m not the best at it.”
That was an understatement, but you were sure Jungkook probably knew that by now. His gaze felt heavy as he watched you for a moment, studying your expression. Then he turned away, keeping his eyes fixed before him as he spoke words you were not expecting in the slightest.
“You did alright.”
-
-
-
It was early in the evening when you and Jungkook finally visited the last house, the sun just barely visible above the horizon when you had crossed over the street to follow behind the guard for the last time today. You had visited at least 20 houses, all of which weighed your heart down more and more until you had felt like you were dragging it against the concrete beneath you. Some had lost their son, their brother, their husband, all of whom were important not only because they were loved, but also because they had been the sole provider of the family. You committed each grief-filled face to memory, promising that pain like that would be a thing of the past. 
It only made you more determined to accomplish your goal. 
Now you stood behind Jungkook as he spoke to a woman in her kitchen, listening attentively to her describe the kind man that was her late husband with a bittersweet fondness. His expression was sympathetic as she spoke, nodding every so often with a gentle smile, while the woman thanked him again and again for being here and helping them. 
If your observations proved anything, people certainly respected him around here. Whenever he would pass by in the street or when he spoke with the families, you watched many bow in his presence or express their gratitude for him. But no one ever invaded his space, and they definitely didn’t try to speak to him unless spoken to. It was all in all a respectful appreciation for the man they thought was a good leader. It was such an odd sight to you, being so used to people in the South trembling in fear in the presence of a leader, that it seemed almost foreign. 
Your gaze travelled around the room as you continued to stand with your hands clasped in front of yourself, casually surveying the small area while simultaneously making sure to absently follow the conversation in case you were spoken to. After your visit to the first house, you’d decided that it was best if you stayed as quiet as possible seeing as you were a trainwreck when it came to comforting people. Sure, you’d sort of saved yourself when you had spoken to the little girl, but you had clearly said the wrong things when you’d spoken to Mrs. Hwang. It was an embarrassing shortcoming on your part, but you also couldn’t really blame yourself. It’s not like you had any examples from when you were growing up to draw on. 
You were pulled from your thoughts, however, when you noticed a quick shadow flit in your peripheral vision, making you discreetly turn your head in that direction. For a moment, the doorway in which your gaze had settled on was empty aside from a guard who stood still in front of it, to the point that you thought you had imagined it. But then a fluffy black tail slithered from behind the wall, making you freeze in place. The tail brushed against the wooden floor before its owner turned around, the familiar face and collar moving into view. 
Persilla’s feline eyes stayed fixed on you as she sat herself down for a moment, tilting her head as she watched you meet her gaze in surprise. She was going completely unnoticed by everyone else in the room, though that part didn’t surprise you. That cat was a master of camouflage after all. She was only seen when she wanted to be. 
Which was why her presence had you wondering what she was doing here. 
The answer to that question came when she suddenly stood, walking dangerously close to the guard as she crossed him and made her way into the hallway slowly. She easily blended into the shadows as she paused and turned back for a moment, making sure that you were still watching her, before she finally slipped into one of the rooms which had a door that was slightly ajar. 
The message was clear to you: she wanted you to follow her. 
You glanced at Jungkook and the woman, who were still deep in conversation thankfully, before you silently shuffled to the doorway where the guard was standing idly. 
“Excuse me?” You spoke, voice soft as a feather. The man’s firm gaze shifted to you, “is there a bathroom anywhere that I could use?”
You could feel Jungkook sneak a glance in your direction, but the woman was still speaking with him, keeping him occupied. You’d made sure to keep your voice loud enough so that he could hear the bathroom excuse though, not wanting him to suspect anything. 
The guard nodded and began to guide you down the same hall Persilla had walked through. Then, to your relief, he stopped in front of the door she had disappeared behind, unknowingly making your life much easier. 
“Thank you,” you smiled at him before walking into the bathroom and closing the door behind you. You immediately began to survey the small space, taking in the toilet and small sink, but your brows furrowed when you failed to find your favourite black cat. 
You kneeled before the sink to open the cabinet underneath it, frowning when it also was empty. 
“Persilla?” You whispered, so silently you could barely hear yourself. 
That was when you took notice of the window beside the sink. It was high up and blurred, but what really made you pause was the fact that it was open. Perhaps Persilla had jumped out of it before you’d entered the room? If she was expecting you to follow her, though, she clearly underestimated your size…
You flinched backwards when she suddenly dropped from said window, paws soundlessly making contact with the tiles before she circled your form. When she was satisfied she sat in front of you, showing you her neck. Once again, wedged between her fur and collar, was a small folded piece of paper. 
“He better not make a messenger out of you,” you practically mouthed with a grumble before you reached out and slipped the note from her collar, unfolding it curiously. The handwriting was familiar as your eyes scanned through the words, though there was only one person the note could be from anyway. 
I heard he has a knack for detail, so I’m assuming that’s why it’s not done yet. No problem. But we really should meet soon, there’s something I need to tell you. (I would’ve let myself in now, but your husband is waiting right outside the door so I had to make good use of Persilla) 
~ H
P.S. I left you a little gift in the toilet tank. I think you might like it. 
Your brows furrowed at the last part, gaze immediately shifting to the toilet in the corner of the room. It was a standard two piece, one with a removable back cover that made it easier to access the tank. 
You pushed yourself off the tiled floor and made your way towards it before grabbing the heavy cover and hauling it upwards with a strained huff, eyes immediately scanning the inside. There were shiny metal pipes intersecting with each other and valves protruding in some places, but it was a black handle wedged between the mess that caught your eye. You grabbed it and pulled it out of the tank, easing the cover back into place with a smile. 
Finally…
Delight was all you could feel as you rotated the shiny new handgun in your hand, taking in its familiar shape. You pressed against the release button first, catching the magazine expertly in your other hand as it popped out of the handle and checked its contents. It was full of ammunition, allowing you to push it back into the gun in satisfaction. Then your attention shifted to the silencer that had been screwed into the gun’s barrel. It wouldn’t entirely silence a shot, but it was still better than nothing and it could definitely come in handy. He knew you well, didn’t he…
You unscrewed the silencer from the gun and then shoved both into the holster at your thigh, making sure to smooth over your dress quickly. One look in the mirror had you satisfied, even eyes like Jungkook’s wouldn’t be able to tell there was a gun concealed under here. He would have no clue what was coming. 
You crouched down to scratch Persilla’s chin, promising her some good salmon for being such a good girl, before she jumped out the window and scurried off. Unable to contain your own curiosity you walked over to the window and gave it a quick glance, but there was no one in sight. 
Just as you had been told, Jungkook was standing right outside the door when you opened it after flushing the toilet and washing your hands to give the illusion that you’d really used the bathroom. You weren’t surprised when you watched his eyes dart behind you to carefully scan the bathroom, but you knew there was nothing to see. Everything that mattered was now strapped to your thigh discreetly hidden underneath your dress. 
“Checking the bathroom after a lady uses it is a bit much, don’t you think?” You couldn’t help but comment, keeping your expression innocent as you noticed the guard standing patiently at the end of the hallway. 
Jungkook’s eyes narrowed in your direction, but there was an amused turn to his lips. You maintained your expression as you felt his arm wrap around yours and pull you closer, whispering the words into your ear as he began to guide you out of the house, “and trying to kill your husband isn’t?”
“A woman can’t have hobbies?”
He steered you along the street, passing by crowds of people who stood at a distance around the neighbourhood, as you both made your way back to the car. Because of that you had to keep a smile on your face as you spoke, despite the nature of your words. 
Jungkook raised an eyebrow to pair with his smile, aware of the crowd’s eyes on you both. There was no doubt that, through their eyes, you both looked like a nice couple speaking about nice things, far from the truth of course, “there are many husbands that wouldn’t be so understanding about your particular hobby. I think I deserve some credit.”
“Dead men don’t get credit.”
“Good thing I’m not dead yet, princess.”
You wished you could shoot him a nasty glare to wipe the cocky grin off his face, but you could only watch him innocently as he opened the door of the black car and waited for you to get in, an arm resting on the top of the car’s door nonchalantly. Taking the opportunity, you placed a hand on his shoulder, giving the impression that you were thanking him for the gesture, but instead said, “I wouldn’t count on that for long.”
Jungkook shut the door behind you in amusement after you sat in the car, ready to join you in the backseat until he felt his phone vibrate suddenly against his thigh. He stayed standing on your side of the car, resting a hand over its top as his other hand went to grab the phone out of his pocket and bring it to his ear. 
“What have you got for me?” He asked, casually surveying the area as he waited for a response. His brows furrowed when he heard the person on the other end of the line hesitate before he spoke. 
“Hello sir,” he finally said, to which Jungkook huffed, knowing whatever was about to be said wasn’t going to please him.
“Out with it, I don’t have all day.”
The man on the other end of the line sighed, “I was just contacted by the informant who has been working on what you ordered him to do…”
Jungkook frowned, remembering how he’d asked the informant to investigate your room and the man you’d been having hushed phone calls with before your marriage. He had wondered why it was taking the informant so long to get back to him, but Jungkook trusted the informant with his life, that’s why he had placed him in the Lee mansion in the first place. If things were being delayed, there was a reason. 
One that was about to be explained to him right now. 
“The informant just told me that he wasn’t able to identify the man.”
Jungkook’s grip on his phone tightened at the news, brows furrowing even further, “what?”
“He said he searched through Mrs. Y/N’s room from top to bottom, but was unable to find anything out of the ordinary, nor anything related to the mystery man. Then he traced her prior phone calls, but none led to anywhere significant. The only thing the informant was able to figure out was that the man goes by the letter H.”
Jungkook mulled over the information for a moment, tapping his finger against the hood of the car while deep in thought. H… that was practically nothing to go by. Why were you talking to a man that seemed so untraceable? What did he have to hide? What did you have to hide?
Jungkook’s jaw ticked. 
“What do you mean tracing the phone calls led to nowhere significant?”
“He explained that the locations were all scattered. Some were in the South, some were in the North, some were in the western and eastern regions, and a couple were even outside the country altogether,” he explained, then seemed to hesitate on his next words, “the informant mentioned that there were a couple locations that may seem slightly promising, but he admitted that he doubts they would prove to be very useful.”
“Tell him to send you the locations, and then send some men to check them out,” Jungkook said immediately.
His gaze dropped on you, who was already staring back at him from your seat. 
“That man is not a ghost. We’ll find him, whether he likes it or not.”
-
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-
Unlike earlier, you nor Jungkook slept as the car raced through the highway, nothing but the darkness of night visible from outside of the window aside from the occasional streetlamp. You’d already been on the road for about an hour or two, the entirety of the trip drenched in silence. 
Jungkook clearly had something on his mind, you could tell from the way his eyes were clouded over in thought as they stayed glued to the window. You hadn’t been able to hear what he’d talked about on the phone, so you’d settled for deciphering his expressions. He’d seemed frustrated by something he’d been told, that was as much as you could make out. 
The weight of the gun on your thigh felt heavy, the need to grab it and use it itching against your fingers. Technically speaking, you had an opportunity right at this very moment. You could shoot Jungkook dead, bang on the divider to get the driver to stop the car, and then shoot him dead too before he put two and two together. It would be simple, and you’d also be able to run to the nearest sign of life and dramatically explain how a man associated with Park Jimin had hijacked the car and killed Jungkook and the driver, leaving you alive to relay the message. They’d buy that in a second. It would be perfect.
The only thing holding you back was the fact that you would have to kill the driver. Jungkook was a mafia leader, and mafia leaders were cruel and merciless. He deserved what was coming. But this driver… he was just a guy doing his job. He might even have a family waiting for him at home, and after the day you’d had, the thought of another family losing someone dear to them made you squirm in your seat.
Realistically, you knew your goal couldn’t be complete without the deaths of a few innocents. But even that thought wasn’t enough to get your fingers to grab the gun at your thigh. A frustrated breath escaped your lips at the lack of your action, one that of course, didn’t go unnoticed by Jungkook. 
“Someone seems frustrated,” he commented, the first time either of you have spoken after entering the car. You rolled your eyes, refusing to face him. But Jungkook continued to observe you intensely, giving you the impression that he wasn’t ready to let the conversation end so easily this time. 
“You know, you seem so adamant on killing me,” he said slowly, “if I’m going to have my wife perpetually working on my death, I think I at least deserve to know why she’s so passionate for the cause.”
It didn’t go over your head that he was suddenly so interested in your intentions after that ominous phone call, and you had no problem calling him out on it, “I heard you had an interesting phone call earlier. Maybe you should focus on that instead.”
“I am. I’m trying to find a pesky man that goes by the letter H, you wouldn’t happen to know him would you?”
You froze, surprise freezing your limbs as you wondered where Jungkook had gotten that name from. Had you messed up somewhere? You’d burned the first note you received and flushed the second down the toilet, so there was no way he could have gotten hold of them. Besides that, you’d never uttered his name out loud since marrying Jungkook. No, there was no way he could have found out from you. 
Jungkook smiled, as if reading your thoughts, “it seems you do.”
You shrugged, trying to collect yourself, “H knows everyone and no one.”
“But you know him better than others. Tell me, is he the reason you want me dead?”
You turned to meet his gaze, the taunt in your voice evident, “maybe you should find him and ask him yourself.”
“I will. He won’t be able to hide from me forever.”
You chuckled, answer instant, “doubtful.”
That made Jungkook tilt his head at you, an evident question. 
“He’s only found when he wants to be found. Otherwise, he’ll have you running in circles like a clueless pet.”
For some reason your words seemed to irritate Jungkook as you noticed his gaze narrow.
“You seem pretty fond of him.”
You didn’t answer, your gaze instead drifting back to the window. Up until now you’d been driving through a thick forest, the concrete road surrounded by enormous trees that seemed to extend into the sky. But the window on Jungkook’s side showcased the trees starting to dwindle, empty patches emerging in the thicket occasionally until they finally gave way to a grand view of the ocean. If you squinted your eyes enough you could make out a large docks system in the distance, full of enormous ships and warehouses. 
The view had caught your eye though, distracting you from the sorry excuse of a conversation you were having with Jungkook. It was the light that had initially caught your attention, more specifically the sheer intensity of it. The docks were lined with the same street lamps that were brightening the road you were currency driving on, yet it looked like someone dropped the sun into one of the warehouses. 
At first you thought perhaps you were overthinking it, but then Jungkook followed your line of sight, peering critically through the window for a moment before he suddenly sat up straight. It was then that you saw it as well; at the edge of one of the warehouses, a roaring fire was beginning to destroy everything in its vicinity. It was only visible now because it had moved on from behind the warehouse, engulfing the structure itself at an alarming rate. 
A sudden explosion shook the docks, so powerful that you could feel the vibrations of the shock despite your distance from the area. At that moment you felt the car screech to a stop, the momentum pushing both you and Jungkook painfully against your seatbelts for a split second, before Jungkook’s phone suddenly started to ring. 
He picked it up on the first bell, not bothering to hide the call from you this time. You could hear loud sounds erupt from the phone the second the line was accepted, a man’s voice barely audible above the chaos. 
“What’s going on?” Jungkook asked hastily, eyes glued to the wreck. He looked as if he wanted to jump out of the car and run to it, but the distance was far too large for him to get there at any reasonable time. 
The man on the other line grunted for a moment, yelling orders to another before he shouted, “sir! There’s been a few explosions at the West Docks! Three of our warehouses have been destroyed, we’re trying to staunch the flames in the fourth one at the moment!”
“Forget it,” Jungkook shook his head immediately, “order thirty guards to the area to make sure there aren’t any actual threats around and to help out with the flames. And take anyone who’s injured to the hospital right away.”
“Of course, sir!” The man on the other line shouted instantly, but then he hesitated before he spoke again, “but sir… who could have done this?”
Jungkook was silent, and you knew you both were thinking of the same man’s name. 
“Just do as I’ve said. I want the least amount of casualties possible.”
There was an incoherent sound on the other end of the line that resembled a “yes sir” before it went dead. Jungkook’s hand instantly went to brush through his hair, the gears in his head clearly working overtime as he seemed to be deep in thought. Before you could say anything though, his phone rang again and this time your eyes widened as you got a clear view of the caller ID. It was the man that you both were thinking of not even a full minute ago. 
Park Jimin. 
This time Jungkook did wait to pick up the call, instead staring at the screen for a few seconds longer than he should have. The silence in the car stretched, nothing but the sound of his ringtone reverberating throughout the small space, as you noticed his muscles tense under his black suit and the grip on his phone tighten to a point that you were sure it would snap the thing in half. This was probably the most tense you’d ever seen him look. 
Jungkook finally grabbed the handle of the door and threw it open, stepping out of the car without so much as a sound. You watched him close the door behind him, only pausing for a moment to say something to the driver before you watched him disappear into the thick forest on your side of the road, leaving you and the driver alone in a dark and empty road. 
Wow… he really did not want you to hear that conversation. 
-
-
-
Jungkook cut through the trees of the forest, the sound of his ringtone practically mocking him as he continued to walk way deeper than he knew was necessary. He couldn’t help it. Park Jimin’s mere name angered him, and cutting through the trees of the forest was helping him direct that anger onto something unimportant. Because he wouldn’t be able to let it out on Jimin. He had to be calm, collected, and even amused in front of that bastard, nothing that could give away just how well Jimin managed to get under Jungkook’s skin. 
But he eventually came to a stop, realising that he couldn’t go traipsing through the forest forever. The phone still vibrated against his hand as he relaxed his muscles, slipping into the Jeon Jungkook that was unbothered and coolheaded. The one that wouldn’t allow Jimin to have the upper hand because of his practically ancient anger.
Jungkook brought the phone to his ear and, finally, accepted the call.
The line was quiet for a second, as if Jimin expected Jungkook to say the first greeting, but he was just as quiet, forcing Jimin to be the conversation initiator. 
“Hello Jungkook, I was just calling to confirm if you received my gift or not.”
His voice was just as melodically taunting as Jungkook remembered it from years ago, the words instantly causing him to clench his jaw. But he relaxed it once again, knowing that he needed to stay clear headed.
“All that just for me? I must say you flatter me, Jimin.”
“How can I not flatter an old friend?” And Jungkook could practically hear the smile in his voice, knowing how much the mention of old friend would make his blood boil. It did, but Jungkook pushed down the feeling of strangling him through the phone.
“But to what do I owe the pleasure of this sudden gift?” He asked, knowing full well what the attack meant. But he was interested in how Jimin would explain it, whether he would put it plainly or jump around the topic like a coward. 
The line was silent for a second, as if Jimin were choosing which angle he wanted to go by, before he finally spoke again. 
“Why don’t we speak about it over dinner?“
Jungkook’s eyes widened in surprise, the words catching him off guard. How could Jimin be inviting him over to his territory so easily, after years of silent animosity? Sure, Taehyung and Yoongi have been at each other’s throats the past few years, Taehyung constantly having to fight off the Mins at his border, but the border between the Parks and Jeons have been silent, much like their leaders. 
Jungkook’s brows furrowed, “you’re inviting me to the Park Territory?”
“Yes, I believe it’s time we settle a couple things, don’t you think?”
Settle a couple things was much too ambiguous of a phrase for Jungkook to decipher. Did he want to sort out the terms for a war? Or was Jimin beyond morality now and instead going straight to setting a trap? Jungkook wasn’t really sure what Jimin was capable of after the warehouse of bodies he’d witnessed a week ago. 
His doubts kept him from speaking, allowing nothing but the serene sounds of the dark forest around him to fill the silence. Jimin seemed to sense his hesitance, letting the silence stretch for only a few moments before he chuckled into the line. 
“Come on, Jungkook. What will it be?”
-
-
-
This was an opportunity.
Currently, your husband was alone, surrounded solely by trees, in an environment dark enough that you could very much get away with shooting him dead and not being blamed for it. You wouldn’t even need to shoot the driver to cover up your tracks, lessening your guilty conscience to a decent amount. It was perfect. The only issue now, was how you were going to get into the forest without arousing suspicion. 
You tapped on the divider, waiting only a couple seconds before you pulled the panel down to reveal the professionally dressed driver. 
“Excuse me? I need to use the bathroom,” you announced, trying to sound as urgent as possible while simultaneously keeping your voice naive. 
The driver, on the other hand, looked as though you’d slammed him in the stomach with a sledgehammer. 
“Ma’am…” He spoke hesitantly, “you’ll have to wait.”
“But I need to go nowww,” you whined, trying to put every bit of spoiled brat into your voice as you could. Then you turned your face towards the forest Jungkook had disappeared into, widening your eyes to give the impression that an idea had suddenly popped into your head, before turning back to face him, “I know! I’ll just go in the forest very quickly.”
Without a response, you pushed the door open and stepped out, causing the driver to scramble out of the car as well, pure panic washing over his expression at your determination. 
“Please ma’am! I can’t let you go out there in the dead of night.”
“Why?” You asked, sporting a confused, and very much dumb, look, “it’s fine! I’ll just go towards my husband. He’ll protect me.”
The mention of Jungkook seemed to visibly calm the man, though there was still a lingering hesitance in his expression, “let me walk you to him.”
You waved him off, praying that he let you go without a fuss. You didn’t want things to get more complicated than they needed to be, or it wouldn’t end well for the man before you, “he’s right at the edge, don’t worry! I saw him and everything!”
You turned around and began walking towards the thicket of trees and, to your utmost relief, you didn’t hear the sounds of the driver following. 
It took you about a minute of walking through the forest to realise that Jungkook was, in fact, not at its very edge, which left you trekking deeper into the thicket of trees, squinting as your eyes adjusted to the surrounding darkness. You could hear the occasional sound of a bird, that strange humm that always seemed to be present in the wilderness, and the skittering of small animals against fallen branches, but there was no sound of your own expert footsteps to your satisfaction. Jungkook wouldn’t be able to hear what was coming. 
Once you’d created a considerable distance between yourself and the driver, to the point that you were certain he would no longer be able to catch sight of you, your innocent smile dropped, replaced immediately by a look of focus as you reached for the gun at your thigh. 
Your gaze wasted no time in surveying the darkened wilderness around you, flickering down only briefly to double check the magazine once again. Your surroundings were still empty of human life, no signs of Jungkook anywhere near you for the time being. Your brows couldn’t help but furrow, wondering why he’d decided to go hiking to take one phone call, even if it was from Jimin. 
You grabbed the silencer from your holster and began to screw it onto the barrel, strolling until you caught the faint sight of a dark silhouette in the distance. The sight had you crouching instantly, fingers still twisting the silencer into the barrel as you began inching closer to the figure, using the thick trunks of the trees to hide yourself from view. The closer you got, the more the silhouette began to shape into Jungkook, his black hair falling into his eyes as his gaze was directed downwards while one hand held his phone up to his ear. 
You finally hid yourself behind a tree that was directly to his right, letting go of the now fully attached silencer to instead rest your finger against the trigger guard. You were close enough that you could hear his end of the conversation now, one that seemed to have just begun.
“All that just for me? I must say you flatter me, Jimin,” he said, voice cool and collected, but you could see the fist his other hand had become. 
Something about Jimin got under Jungkook’s skin, that was clear enough to you by now. But you wondered, why? Jungkook seemed like a man that was unmoved by a challenge, enjoyed them even, according to your observations these past four days and also according to his reaction to your presence. And yet, small attacks and calls from Jimin were enough to move him? No… there was something deeper to this reaction, something personal between Jimin and Jungkook that you didn’t know about. Some sort of history perhaps?
“But to what do I owe the pleasure of this sudden gift?”
You shook your head, ridding yourself of the thoughts. It didn’t matter anymore. You were about to shoot Jungkook dead, making the answers to these questions useless for you. This little mission of yours was over. 
You watched a squirrel scurry down the trunk of a tree to your left, the small animal cloaked in the shadows of the darkness. Eager to get this over with, you placed your hand on the top of the gun, slowly pulling the slide backwards. At the exact moment you heard a click sound from your gun, the squirrel crashed into a pile of leaves, muffling the racking of your slide. Still, your gaze stayed fixed on Jungkook’s expression just in case as both your hands went to hold the handle. His brows were furrowed, but his eyes were still turned downwards, giving the impression that perhaps Jimin had said something he wasn’t expecting. 
Distantly you wondered what it could have been, but physically you brought your gun up from the side of the trunk, pushing the thought out of your mind. 
You felt all thoughts flow out of your head like they always did whenever you were aiming, this time your barrel pointing straight in the direction of Jungkook’s temple. When you saw a lack of any reaction from him, you knew it was over.
Your finger finally pressed against the trigger.
Goodbye, Jungkook.
“You’re inviting me to the Park Territory?”
You froze, your finger stalling as it pushed the trigger by about a third of its pathway, the words making your eyes widen in surprise. It had to be a misunderstanding, your luck couldn’t be so good - or would it be bad in this case? - that Park Jimin was inviting Jeon Jungkook over to his territory? 
You strained your ears, desperately trying to hear Jimin’s answer to the question. You even dangerously pushed your head forward a bit, risking being detected by Jungkook, but he was much too busy staring at the ground with slightly widened eyes to notice your form, clearly just as surprised as you.
You pulled back behind the trunk when you managed to make out a yes from Jimin’s end of the line, causing you to suck in a breath. 
This changed things. 
If Jungkook were to be killed in the Park Territory it wouldn’t just cause tensions between the northern territories, it would instantly cause all out war. Killing a leader while he was visiting another territory was a huge no no, no matter what region of the country you were from. It signified at least some form of ethics in a world that was so unethical, and surprisingly you’d never met a territory that didn’t honour that rule. To the point that when leaders broke that rule, it was instant chaos. All it would take was for Jungkook to die on Park soil for both the Jeons and Kims to retaliate with full force, no room for negotiations or apologies. 
And the best part was that, if Jungkook were to go, he would have to take you. Leaders always took their wives whenever they travelled or visited other territories to assert their power. If Jungkook ended up going to the Park Territory without you, he would give off the impression that he was scared he wouldn't be able to protect you should something go wrong, making him look weak. Mr. Perfect Image would never have that, especially in the face of the one person clearly trying to take over his territory. 
Now it all depended on his answer. 
Your handgun continued to stay pinned on Jungkook’s head, finger still pressing against the trigger as you watched him stare into the ground before him. You could practically see the gears turning in his brain, going over the advantages and disadvantages of his options while his lips were pressed into a firm line. Whether he survived or not tonight was all dependent on the answer he gave now.
You could feel your muscles tensing in anticipation, the natural sounds of the forest blurring into the background as you focused on the man before you. 
Jungkook’s head suddenly lifted, staring straight ahead of him as the chaos of his thoughts seemed to subside. You automatically adjusted your aim, preparing yourself before he finally spoke.
“Fine.”
Your finger instantly lifted off the trigger to let it bounce back into place, pairing with the sound of Jungkook ending the phone call. Your arm dropped to your side as the realisation washed over you. 
The decision had been made, you were going to visit the Parks. 
But one thing had become more clear to you at this very moment. You had just given up a good opportunity to end this man, one that may not show itself again, which meant you could not let it be in vain. No matter what happened there, no matter how you had to do it, Jungkook was dying in the Park Territory. There was no room for failure now, only the end of what needed to be done. 
You’d do anything to make sure of it. 
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A/N: Things are about to get very physical 😏 Also comments, reblogs, and likes are appreciated!
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253 notes · View notes
highdefhoetry · 3 days
Text
a clash of sword and flame.
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cw: nsfw!!! mmf, competitive threesome, penetration (penis in vagina), doggy style, missionary, blow job/facefucking, oral sex, unprotected sex, creampies, spanking, hair pulling, praise, body worship, fingersucking, fingering, g-spot stimulation, multiple orgasms, biting/marking, possessive zoro, pussydrunk sanji
summary: zoro and sanji find out you've been fucking them both. a competition ensues, with you smack dab in the middle.
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You were in trouble. Big trouble. And no amount of sweet talking or sugar coating could get you out of this situation. 
Your eyes dart back and forth between your two furious crew mates - Sanji, who was half naked in bed next to you, clutching the white sheets in tight fists, and Zoro, fully clothed and standing in front of the closed door with his arms crossed and his face twisted into a scowl. Both looked at you expectantly, waiting for an answer, silently fuming as a thick and palpable tension wafted through the air. 
It was a well kept secret. Or so you thought. Only Nami and Robin were privy to your midnight visits to the kitchen and your early morning calls to the crow’s nest. You had made sure of that. There was no reason anyone else on the crew needed to know that you were secretly fucking two of your crewmates. Hell would break loose, knowing how intense the rivalry was between those two. 
But even the best kept secrets eventually came to light. And the consequence of your sex-driven decisions was staring you right in the face.
“Tch... you can’t be serious…” the swordsman sneered, shooting daggers at the blonde. “I can’t believe you fell for the shitty cook’s bullshit.”
“And what the hell is that supposed to mean?!” Sanji stumbles to his feet while struggling to pull up his briefs, his erection still visible through the white fabric. 
“She's smarter than that,” Zoro storms towards him until they’re both neck and neck. “She knows she can do better than a perverted cook who can't keep it in his pants.”
“Oh, so you think you’re better than me?!”
“I don’t think I’m better than you. I know I am.”
This is bad. Really bad. The two of them always bicker and argue, but they might actually kill each other this time if you don’t do something about it. You pull the thin bed sheets up to your chest, hiding your nude form underneath, and stand up to try and get between them. You created this mess, you had to at least try to stop it from escalating any further.
“Guys, don’t fight…” you try to reason with them, but your words go unheard as their argument continues.
“At least I know how to treat a lady! A brute like you has no concept of chivalry or romance!”
“I don’t need any damn chivalry,” a smirk creeps up Zoro’s face, twisting his expression into one of manic rage. “And I don’t need to smooth talk a woman to get laid.” 
“Oh, yeah?” Sanji’s voice falls, the quiet tone a stark contrast to the previous screaming and yelling. He tears his eyes away from Zoro and looks at you with both passion and scorn in his gaze. It breaks your heart, seeing him this way. This wasn’t what you wanted at all.
But strangely, it doesn’t last. Something shifts in his gaze, encompassing his body as he breaks away from the argument.
He returns to the bed, gently taking your fingers and leaving soft kisses from the back of your hand and up the rest of your arm. It happens so fast you don’t have time to protest, succumbing to his embrace as he wraps his arm around the small of your back. His soft hands glide across your skin, caressing every sensitive nerve with the most delicate touch he can muster. A fluttered moan escapes when his lips reach your neck and shoulders. You close your eyes, then open them again when you feel Zoro’s sharp glare boring into you. He watches on in shock, fists clenched tightly at his sides.
“A beautiful lady like her needs to be worshiped properly… something an ape like you could never do,” Sanji’s sweet words flutter in your ears, making you shiver as he leaves a trail of soft kisses across your skin. “Ma chérie, tu n'as pas besoin d'un imbécile comme lui.”
Zoro mutters something about “stupid fancy French bullshit” as you try to suppress your moans, melting at the praise Sanji is showering over you. It’s what you love most about fucking him; he treats you like a goddess, devoting himself entirely to your pleasure. You truly feel like he’s become your lover, as if the two of you are the only ones who exist in this moment.
But you’re suddenly reminded of the other’s presence when you’re pulled toward the other side of the bed and into a strong pair of arms. Zoro holds you tightly, muscles bulging as he wraps himself around your frame. He’s shirtless, and his black pants are laying on the ground beside the bed, leaving him in his boxers. You feel his erection press against your back and instinctively rub your ass against it. Just how he likes.
“You’re not doing it right,” he grunts, glaring at a shocked-looking Sanji while he pushes you onto your stomach. You start to say something, but you’re silenced when his rough, calloused hands take hold of your thighs and spread them out, pulling your hips back onto his while his tip pushes into your hole.
You cry out when his cock starts pumping inside you, slamming into your walls at an incredible pace. Your teeth sink into the pillow, muffling your cries of pleasure as the swordsman fucks you deeply, passionately, right in front of the cook. He grunts quietly, letting out short, labored breaths while enjoying the feeling of your walls clenching around his shaft.
“She’s not some… delicate little flower…” he grumbles in between strokes. “You need… to fuck her… properly…”
It was rough and intense, as it always was when you fucked Zoro. But you couldn’t get enough of it. You loved the way he’d manhandle you, tossing you around like a doll into whatever position he wanted. You’d melt when he told you how tight you were, how fucking good it felt to be inside you, how you had the best ass in the Grand Line. He spanks you a couple times, grinning when he hears the surprised little noises you make from the unexpected impact. His fingers run through your hair, then grasp a clump of your locks before pulling back tightly. Your head moves back, forcing you to look Sanji in the eyes as he watches Zoro fuck you into a dizzying headspace. He gawks at you wide-eyed, cheeks pink and cigarette dangling precariously from his mouth.
“Sanji…!” you gasp, earning another spank from Zoro.
“You’re mine, got it?” he sneers into your ear, tugging your hair a little harder. “Say it nice and loud so the shitty cook can hear it.”
“I’m yours.”
“Good. Say it again.”
“I’m yours!” you cry out, feeling Zoro’s cock throb inside you. He speeds up, the steady pumping turning into a wild, frenzied rhythm that is so intense you start seeing stars. Then finally, he explodes inside you, filling your hole with comforting warmth. You can feel him throbbing as he holds your hips, making sure he’s emptied every drop of cum inside you. Making sure Sanji knows who you belong to.
You lay down on your stomach, skin damp with sweat and flushed with heat. But you don’t get to rest for long. You’re pulled into another firm pair of arms that flip you onto your back, forcing you to look your French lover in the eyes despite your guilty conscience telling you to hide. Your eyes dart away, but when a gentle hand takes your chin and pulls it towards him, you bashfully meet his gaze. You expected anger, sadness, resentment… but all you see reflected in those eyes is worry and concern. 
“Ma cœur…” he runs his thumb across your bottom lip, cradling your cheek in his other hand. “Are you alright? Did that idiot hurt you?”
He runs a hand down your chest, flicking your nipples before caressing the soft, supple skin underneath. He gently gropes your breast, coaxing moans and other little sounds from your parted lips before running down your stomach and between your thighs. His fingers play with your clit, teasing it by massaging the hood of your clit. Your moans become louder, your body becomes more desperate for release. Sanji pushes a finger inside you, despite your hole still slick with Zoro’s cum, and curls against your walls until you erupt in an intense orgasm that causes your legs to shake. Zoro had brought you to the peak, but Sanji had pushed you over the edge.
Your cry of pleasure is so loud it makes your throat feel hoarse. Satisfied, Sanji smirks and pulls down his white briefs. It was his turn now. He enters you slowly, carefully, and calmly, asking every now and then, “Does it feel good? Am I going too fast? Are you alright, ma amour?” 
You nod and spread your legs, inviting him in.
His strokes are longer, deeper, more controlled. His dick pulsates within you, the slight curve of his shaft hitting your walls perfectly and spurring you towards another orgasm. He holds your legs at his sides, gazing deeply into your eyes without tearing them away for a moment. You’ve never felt so seen, so vulnerable. You almost forget there’s another person there with you.
It’s not long before you cum again, this time a little harder than before. Sanji cums shortly after, having kept himself in control until this moment. Ladies always came first. That was something he lived by, a motto that made sex with him all the more satisfying. You smile up at him, mirroring back the affectionate grin he’s giving you from above. He fills you with his own cum, pumping into you a few more times as if he was trying to shove his own seed past Zoro’s. He wasn’t going to let the swordsman one-up him. It was his own way of claiming you. 
You’re only given a small respite before the next round. A strong pair of hands grips your ankles and yanks you towards the other side of the bed. Zoro locks eyes with you, brows furrowed in displeasure as he takes in your blissed out expression. He leans forward and kisses you intensely, biting your lower lip while his tongue presses against yours. His teeth sink into your neck, leaving bite marks down to your collar bones prominent enough to see. He’s mid-bite when Sanji crawls on top and pushes him off. The blonde looks pissed as he notes the marks on your skin.
“You’re like a damn animal!” he yells, once again butting heads with the surly swordsman. “This is no way to treat a lady!”
“She likes it, you moron!” Zoro spits back, forehead pressed against Sanji’s. 
“Guys, please…!” You try to placate them, but it only ends with each man taking hold of your hands and pinning them down on the bed next to you.
“I made her cum, twice,” Sanji notes while planting his lips onto your wrist. “How many times did she cum with you, mosshead? Oh, right. Zero.”
“I can make her cum just fine, curlybrow,” Zoro sneers, lacing his rough fingers with yours while nipping at your neck. 
“Oh, yeah?!”
“Yeah,” he says with a smirk.
You feel another pair of fingers push inside your hole and dig into your walls, seeking out the ribbed spot he knows will make you scream. It doesn’t take long for him to find it, and within seconds you’ve reached another climax, an orgasm brought about by his expert hands and the steady way he’s pumping them inside you. He pulls them out and sticks them in your mouth, letting you suck the cum off his chapped skin. You see him smile as he watches your lips encompass his hands. Focused entirely on the feel of his fingers in your mouth, you shudder when you suddenly feel a soft, wet tongue lapping at your clit. And when you look down, you see a mop of blonde hair in between your legs, Sanji’s soft hands holding each of your thighs. He eats you out, his lips kissing and licking every part of your mound. His tongue darts in between your folds, circles around your clit, tastes the entrance of your hole and the puffy lips around it. Still dripping with both sets of cum, he licks that up too, tasting the sweet mixture of you and his arch rival. 
You arch your back and throw back your head, giving him further access to you. He buries his face in your pussy, inhaling the scent while eating you fervently, as if you’re the best goddamn thing he’s ever tasted. But as you’re enjoying yourself, something forces your lips apart and shoves itself inside your mouth. The taste of dick and sweat fills your senses. Instinctively, your lips wrap around Zoro’s shaft and take in his massive cock, lips sliding up and down before letting your tongue linger on his tip. The swordsman groans with every soft movement, carefully pumping in and out of your mouth and speeding up only when he’s sure you’re ready to deep throat him. You open your jaw wider, signaling that you’re ready, and within moments he cradles both of your cheeks in hand and fucks into your mouth with ferver. 
The next orgasm shocks your system, sending electric waves through every nerve. You cry out hoarsely, high pitched notes warbling through the air that are muffled by the thick cock in your mouth. The taste of salty cum fills your senses as Zoro finishes; the warmth slides down your throat when you swallow it whole. He pulls out, allowing you to catch your breath. Sanji tears himself away from your pussy, looking at you with a completely blissed out expression before collapsing beside you. The swordsman lays at your other side, squishing you between the two men on a bed that’s only just big enough for the three of you. 
“...Stupid shitty cook…” Zoro grumbles, pulling you into his chest. You can feel his racing heartbeat as your skin presses against his, sticky with sweat and other fluids. He glares at the blonde, who’s finally coming to his senses enough to argue with him again.
“Damn mosshead…” Sanji returns his scowl before grabbing your arm and pulling you against him. His heart is pound against his chest, a steady beat beneath flushed red skin. 
You look over at Sanji, then back at a now snoozing Zoro who still has his arms wrapped around your waist, clinging to you possessively. You hear quiet snoring from behind, and look to see that Sanji has fallen asleep, as well. 
You wondered what this meant for the three of you, if you’d wake up to another round of bickering or if the two of them had come to some sort of silent conclusion. Your own heart races as you consider the future, a selfish part of you hoping this wasn’t just a one time thing despite knowing the trouble it had caused. 
When your own eyelids start to close, you decide that the matter can wait until morning. You’re exhausted, and it would take more than the promise of treasure to tear you away from the two men you loved most in this world.
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littlelamy · 3 days
Note
reader wins an award at the country club maybe something with tennis but rafe gets so busy and ends up missing it
a/n: thank you sending a request 🤍 i hope you like it! 🐑
the day should have been perfect—a culmination of your hard work and dedication. you’d spent weeks preparing for the tennis tournament at the country club, and you’d been so excited to have rafe there, watching from the stands, cheering you on. he had promised he wouldn’t miss it.
but, of course, rafe was nowhere to be found.
you stood there on the podium, accepting the first-place trophy with a hollow smile plastered on your face, scanning the crowd one last time. nothing. no familiar face, no smirk, no quick thumbs-up from him. the excitement of your victory felt overshadowed by the emptiness gnawing in your chest.
back in the locker room, you stared at your phone, willing it to buzz with an explanation, a half-assed apology—anything. but nothing came through until you were already back at the after-party, trying to ignore the pang of disappointment every time someone asked where rafe was.
finally, your phone buzzed.
rafey💗: sorry. got tied up. i’ll make it up to you. let’s talk when you’re home.
you read the text, feeling the familiar frustration boil up inside you. he was always “tied up,” always “busy.” he’d promised he would be there today—he had sworn he’d make it.
you: you promised you’d be here. you missed it.
the reply came through quickly.
rafey💗: i said i’ll make it up to you. just come home.
you scoffed, locking your phone and deciding you’d finish your drink before leaving. maybe this time you wouldn’t let him off so easy.
when you got home, the house was dimly lit, and the smell of food hit you immediately. candles flickered around the room, and soft music played in the background. he was trying, you could see that. but as sweet as the setup was, it wasn’t enough to completely erase the frustration bubbling under your skin.
rafe appeared in the doorway, watching you with that familiar cocky glint in his eye. "you made it," he said, his voice low as he approached.
you crossed your arms, leaning back against the door. "yeah. i made it. too bad you couldn’t say the same for the tournament."
rafe sighed, his hands slipping into his pockets. "i told you—i got caught up. work shit. you know how it is."
"yeah, i know how it is. you’re always ‘caught up.’ it’s always the same excuse, rafe," you shot back, your voice sharper than usual. you couldn’t help it. you’d been holding it in all day.
he frowned, his expression shifting from apologetic to defensive. "jesus, are you really going to make this a big thing? i already said i was sorry. what more do you want?"
you let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. "i wanted you to be there, rafe. just once, to actually keep your word. is that too much to ask?"
his jaw clenched, his hands falling to his sides as he took a step closer, towering over you. "i do a lot for you, you know that? don’t act like i don’t try. i’m here now, aren’t i?"
you glared up at him, refusing to back down. "yeah, now that it’s convenient for you."
rafe’s eyes flashed with irritation as he leaned in, his voice dropping to a dangerous murmur. "watch it."
the tension hung in the air between you for a moment, both of you silently daring the other to say more. then, just as quickly as his anger had flared up, it seemed to cool. he stepped back, running a hand through his hair and sighing. "look, i messed up. i know. but i’m here now, and i’m trying to fix it. do you wanna keep arguing, or do you want me to make it up to you?"
his words were sharp, but you could see the frustration in his eyes—the way he was trying to pull himself back from snapping completely. he always did this, always danced on that line between anger and remorse.
you exhaled heavily, shaking your head. "fine. but this doesn’t just go away, rafe. you can’t keep missing things like this."
rafe’s lips twitched into a half-smirk, the edge of arrogance still lingering as he closed the distance between you again. his fingers grazed your waist, pulling you closer. "you’ll forgive me," he murmured, his voice softer now, but still laced with that confidence that always made your stomach flip. "you always do."
you hated how right he was.
he pressed his lips to your neck, trailing kisses slowly upward until his breath was hot against your ear. "let me make it up to you tonight," he whispered, his hands tightening around your waist, grounding you in that familiar pull he always had over you.
you sighed, the frustration still simmering, but already slipping away as you leaned into his touch. "you’ve got a lot of making up to do," you muttered, not wanting to give in too easily.
rafe chuckled lowly, the sound vibrating against your skin. "i plan on it."
he scooped you up effortlessly, carrying you toward the bedroom as the tension between you shifted from frustration to something far more intoxicating. and even though you were still mad at him, even though you knew this didn’t fix everything, it was hard to resist him when he looked at you like that.
he set you down gently on the bed, leaning over you with a grin that was half apology, half arrogance. "let me make you forget all about that stupid tournament, baby," he murmured, his lips hovering over yours.
for now, you let him. you’d deal with everything else later.
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enmi-land · 2 days
Text
✶ DRUNK IN LOVE
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𝓘.──── . . . 𝒷𝖺𝖻𝗒, 𝗂 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎
💭 엔하HYUNGLiNEXFEM!OC ꗃSCENARiO. hyung line being needy after their first time with mila. ( 2022 ) 𓈃 REQUESTED. 𝅄CONTAiNS. smut, swearing, jealousy & possessiveness, pet names, unedited !MDNi! ꒰ NOTES ✦ Just letting you guys know that smut isn’t my forte so umm yeah. No further comment.
SMUT WARNiNGS ⋆ implied unprotected sex (zon’t zo it), mentioned loss of virginity, implied oral (m & f receiving), tit sucking, cockwarming, corruption kink, slight somnophilia, masturbation . . .
GO BACK HOME ?!
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IF THERE IS ONE THING MILA IS NOT, it’s innocent. No matter how many people she may fool with her doe eyes and pouty lips, those coy smiles and that sweet face, she is not nearly as pure as they think. She’s equal parts devil and angel—and every part of their fantasies.
When Mila first initiates intimacy with her boyfriends, she’s a virgin in every sense of the word: unkissed, untouched, and wholly inexperienced in everything that lovers do when they’re alone.
Jay is proud to say that he was the same way. It wasn’t something to be embarrassed about, but rather something he took pride in—that every one of her firsts was also one of his, that they were experiencing things together, with neither one ahead or behind. And yes, even though he is a gentlemen, he is still a man.
It’s why he can’t help the way his eyes travel down her body when she’s not looking, as if he’s in a trance. She’s not doing anything in particular, but he still can’t take her eyes away from her.
Mila is wearing a white dress, he notes, like the one she wore when they first had sex together. No, it is the same one. There’s no way he can mistake it. It’s a cute thing, really, the way it cinches at the waist and flares around the plush skin of her thighs; the way the material of the top clings to her bosom, moulding against her mounds perfectly and revealing just the slightest bit of cleavage.
At least, it should be cute. But all he can think about in that moment is how they first ended up in bed together, and the things that led to it.
He remembers the way he had just left the shower, water dripping down his torso and to the towel wrapped loosely around his waist, when the doorbell of his hotel room rang. He had opened it to see her standing there, her soft, cherry-pink lips parted softly at the sight of his half-naked state.
It was hardly the first time she had seen him without a shirt, but this time, it was different. She had always been shy with showing appreciation for his figure, and had the cutest habit of looking away shyly buying her lip. But that time he noticed the way her eyes drifted down his body, pupils dilated i with desire as she drank every feature of him in with her pretty eyes.
It filled him with pride to see Mila that way, knowing he was the cause of it. But, fuck, he was no better when he found himself growing hard when the little (devious) angel of his had pressed her soft curves against his still wet body, transferring the droplets of water onto that adorable little dress of hers that clung to her body, more transparent than white, and leaving little to the imagination.
“You’re getting wet,” he had said to her, gulping down his growing desire to kiss her senseless as she looked up with those doe eyes of her. He fully intended on being the rational one of the two of them, and to make sure they both attended that reservation he booked at the fancy new restaurant down the road.
But all of that flew out the window when she oh so innocently said, “I don’t mind you getting me wet,” her fingers trailing down his abs.
Fuck, why did he have to remember that now? Hems supposed to be paying attention to her as she talks to him about something that happened earlier today, when she was out with friends. But god, if he wasn’t going crazy as he remembered their night together.
He vividly remembers everything about it. The way he had fallen for her allure and carried her to his room, still dressed only in the hotel towel, before laying her on the bed, watching her hair sprawl around her head like a halo. He remembers the way his hands travelled up her skirt and to the skin of her waist, bunching her dress up to reveal a lack of safety shorts, and a pair of white lace panties. It felt almost sinful to slide her panties down her thighs, marvelling at how soaked they became without even touching her.
“Fuck, angel, you were going to go out like this?” He asked. “All it would take is one gust of wind and they would know that you were dipping. Is that what you want Engenes to know?”
“They wouldn’t,” Mila whined.
“They would,” Jay pressed firmly, sinking to his knees at the edge of the bed. “They would see just how wet you are for me.”
It wasn’t the first time he found himself kneeling before her, but every time he saw the glistening folds of her pussy as he peeled the sticky layer of her panties away from it, he was in awe. And one lick up the strip of her folds would have him groaning, eyes rolling to the back of his head at the taste of her on his tongue.
Great. Now he’s getting a hard-on.
“Oppa, are you paying attention?” Mila turns to face Jay at that very moment, but he is even quicker, pulling her down to his lap as she squeals in surprise. “Oppa?! What’s—?”
Mila’s eyes widen as her ass is planted on his lap, where she can feel the prominent bulge in his pants. Her breathe hitches in he throat, while Jay’s lips plant themselves on her neck. A hand travels to her thigh, and his thumb rubs soothing circles on her creamy soft skin. “Sorry, angel,” he whispers huskily, “but I don’t think I can concentrate right now.”
“Oh,” is all Mila can manage to say. She can feel her thighs clench together as he kisses the column of her neck. She squirms in his lap, grinding against his hard length, earning a deep groan from her lover. The sound that goes straight to her pussy, and immediately the tell tale signs of arousal making make itself known.
“I promise I’ll listen to your story,” Jay says. “But do you think you can do me a favour first?”
Mila is putty in his hands as his rough palm glides up the skirt of her dress in a familiar manner. “Anything,” she whimpers pathetically.
Jay chuckles. “Good girl,” he purrs. Mila whines as his hands find their way to her hips, and he grinds her ass back on his length, causing her to moan for the friction against her pulsating pussy. “I just need you to keep moving your cute ass like this, okay? And you can tell me all about your day while you’re at it.”
If she can talk, that is. Jay has a feeling neither of them will be able to.
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SUNGHOON WAKES UP TO AN EMPTY BED, and immediately is on alert. He jolts up, the sheets falling to his still naked lap, and his eyes dart around to find no trace of his girlfriend anywhere. He slept like a baby after last night, and had been expected her to do the same when he woke up, considering they spent most of it doing anything other than sleeping.
Fuck. The images come flooding back like a memory from a night of drinking—only much more pleasurable, and a thousand times more intense. He still remembers them the way Mila was writhing under him, moaning and whimpering his name as he thrusted into her, their hands entwined up her head.
He can picture the way her skin glistened under the light with sweat, her features contorted into pleasure as she changed his name over and over again like a prayer. Pleading, begging for him to give her release she was chasing as her hips rolled up to meet his, driving his cock deeper into her walls, and egging him on to go faster than before.
His first time with her is simultaneously everything he imagined, and yet better. His dirtiest fantasies would never do justice to the pure pleasure and bliss of reaching his high while inside her, and feeling the way she clenched around him as she reached her own. He had already been helpless for her, but going all the way has been the final nail in the coffin, securing his unending fixation with everything that is her. As if she’s the sun his whole world revolves around.
The only thing that could have made it better is if they woke up the same way. Sunghoon grumbles as he scrambles for his pants, which lay forgotten in the corner of the room, lazily running a hand through his hair after buttoning it up.
He spots a pair of panties and a bra on the way out and smiles to himself as he remembers how they ended up there. It was a petty argument that led to it all, surprisingly enough. He can barely remember it after last night, which proves how petty it was (or just how whipped he is), and was a misunderstanding that could easily be resolved if they just stoned being stubborn.
But everyone has their flaws.
Mila had been upset to find that Sunghoon had been approached by someone who didn’t know he was an idol, and certainly didn’t know he was taken. They aren’t in South Korea, seeing as they’re in the middle of a tour, so it’s an easy mistake to make. Except, Sunghoon—with his minimal English—didn’t recognise that the woman was “flirting” with him, and that by outsider’s point of view, he seemed to be receptive.
Mila promptly shut down the woman’s attempts and then walked off without sparing Sunghoon a glance. A petty move, honestly, but expected from her. Sunghoon chased her down until he cornered her in their hotel room, where he had kissed her senseless after realising the reason for her attitude.
“I don’t like the way she was look at you,” she mumbled. And Sunghoon felt a surge of possessive pride in knowing she had gotten so territorial over her. Except, he didn’t appreciate the cold shoulder.
“How cute,” he growled, as he harshly attached his mouth to her neck with hot open-mouthed kisses, fangs scraping harshly against her skin. His long fingers weaved their way into her hair, tugging on the roots to expose her flesh to him like an animal snapping his prey’s neck with his teeth. “I should spank you for being such a brat.”
He didn’t know where the words came from. Actually, that’s a lie—they most likely came from the porn he watched to prepare him for when he eventually had his first time with Mila. And it worked like a charm, because Mila was whining and whimpering in his hold, her knees weak and her cunt absolutely dripping with arousal.
“I’m sorry, Oppa,” she mewled pathetically.
“Sorry won’t cut it,” he growled. “Get on your knees. You’re going to suck me off until I forgive you.”
And Mila had been such a good girl, doing exactly as he said, taking his cock as he pushed her head down onto his length until he came in her mouth. But that hadn’t been enough, and he had her grinding against his thigh until she was begging for something more. For all of him, for everything he had to give her.
“Are you sure?” Sunghoon had asked, finally giving into his gentle instincts.
“Please,” she begged—and oh was she adorable when she did so, cuddling to his chest. “Please, Oppa, I need you inside me.”
He almost wished he had a tape so he could rewatch the scenes all over again.
Sunghoon sighs as he opens the door to reveal the smell of food wafting in the air, followed by the sight of Mila on the kitchen, humming as she cooked an egg on the frying pan—wearing his shirt and, apparently, nothing underneath.
The light of the morning rays are forgiving. They grant him the perfect view of her curves hiding beneath the material of his white tee, and he wonders if he will be able to see the canvas of marks he left her skin the night before. If his fingerprints and love bites are even more visible now than when he was dragging his lips and hands against every inch of her body last night.
He bites his lips as he approaches her from behind, stealthy and silent, like a predator in the wild, hunting down its prey. She doesn’t notice him until he’s wrapping his arms around her, caging her agains the kitchen bench top as she removes the frying pan from the heated stove.
“Oppa!” She spins around to face him with that look of pure adoration in her eyes that never fails to make him melt on the inside. “You’re up! Are you hungry?”
Sunghoon hums, resting his cheek against hers. Truth be told, he’s starving—but he doesn’t want to let go of her so soon, wanting to feel her as close to him as possible. Now that he knows what it feels like to be inches inside her, he wants to be nothing but their skin against each other and to hold her soft body against his firm one.
“You left bed,” he says, with a small hint of a pout on his lips. He would die before the others see him this clingy, but Mila finds it adorable and plants a soft peck on his cheek.
“Sorry,” she says, “but someone had to make food, and you were out like a light.” She then giggles to herself, earning a raised eyebrow from Sunghoon. “I guess I tired you out.”
Oh, really? So that’s how she wants to frame it? Sunghoon chuckles deeply. He turns Mila around so that they’re facing each other, before completely cornering her against the bench top, his hands on both her hips and his head leaning down against hers.
“That’s funny,” he starts.
His eyes look down the front of Mila’s (or rather, his) shirt, to see her hardened nipples straining against the fabric—and, fuck, he can’t be distracted now. Not even when he knows that underneath that shirt of hers (his), her plump mounds are begging to be held in his palms. But she doesn’t seem to be fairing any better, her eyes travelling down his bare torso, and his tongue flicking against her lips.
She’s just as affected as he is. And he loves it.
“If I remember correctly,” Sunghoon teases, “you were the one who kept begging me that you couldn’t take it anymore, isn’t that right, princess?”
Mila has a pretty flush on her face, and it reminds him of the absolutely fucked look on her face as he fucked her last night. She pouts up at him, tempting him with her plump lips. He can’t help it. Everything about her is irresistible to him; everything about her has him obsessed.
“You’re mean,” she whines. And, oh, if the sound doesn’t make his cock twitch him his pants.
Sunghoon simply catches her lips between his, suckling on her pout. She whimpers against his mouth—such a sweet, sweet sound—and he nibbles on the flesh, before his tongue flicks out to lick it clean. “Don’t start what you can’t finish.”
At this Mila giggles again. “You mean like you finished last night?”
Sunghoon groans. But, yeah, he walked into that one. He digs his fingers into her side, causing her to squirm as he tickles her gently. “Now who’s the one being mean?”
“Stooooop—eep!” Mila jumps as he slaps her ass, her tits bouncing before they are pressed against him when she clutches his frame for support. “Oppa!”
Sunghoon doesn’t say anything this time, instead placing another kiss on her lips. She melts into him, chasing his mouth with her own, fingers locked in his hair. His hands pat her waist softly, before travelling to the hem of the shirt she’s wearing, pulling it up softly. It gives her more than enough time to pull away, but she doesn’t.
His hands travel up the material to grip her thighs before lifting her up in one smooth hoist, balancing her thighs around his hips.
“Fuck breakfast,” Sunghoon growls. And Mila seems to agree.
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JAKE CAN’T HELP BUT FEEL GUILTY. He’s acting like a teenaged boy whenever he’s around his girlfriend, and every little thing she does turns him on to the point that he has to jerk off himself quietly under the sheets of his bed. Not even porn can make him lose it so quickly—not after he’s gotten a taste of what it’s like for him to be the one instead.
It’s only worse because Mila wants nothing more than to innocently cuddle on her bed and watch movies, and yet he’s sporting an embarrassingly uncomfortable hard-on under their blanket.
He can’t help it. She’s wearing a pair of short satin shorts and a matching camisole that does nothing to take his attention away from her tits (she’s definitely not wearing a bra), and the curve of her ass. It’s only worse when she’s pressed right against his side, leg hooked over his stomach as she clings to him.
The last time they were alone like this in a dark room, he ended up losing it while she was she riding him, the move nothing but a backdrop to their passionate love-making that ended up on the the of them being complete messes of bodily fluids.
He had always imagined that his first time with Mila would he romantic, with gentle touches and soft loving. It wasn’t like that at all. But if you asked Jake, if was far better. It was messy, it was desperate, it was a jumble of rushed undressing and the pure need.
It was Jake not being able to make a coherent sentence as Mila straddled his lap, before sinking down onto his cock, her warmth eveloping his length with a vice grip. It was him gripping her hips until they bruised, head thrown back as she bounced on his lap with unforgiving rhythm. It was Jake losing all senses as she clenched around him upon her impending orgasm, writing him dry until he couldn’t even keep his eyes open for more than five minutes after they were done.
“Jakey, are you okay?” Mila asks sweetly, eyes gazing at him wide and unblinking. And while Jake appreciates the sentiment, all he can think about is the way her eyes look the exact same as whenever she’s kneeling in front today him, taking his cock in her mouth as she bobs her head down his length.
Shit. His pants are uncomfortably tight now, and it’s all because he can’t get a fucking grip. He never used t be this easily hot and bothered before—why did it have to start now!
“I-I’m good,” he assures—albeit weakly.
Mila doesn’t look convinced and shifts (Fuck, he wants to scream, please don’t move!), her breast pressing further against Jay, and her thigh brushing dangerously close to his prominent bulge. She pouts, and places a hand on Jake’s forehead. “Are you sick? You don’t look too good.”
At this rate, she’s definitely going to know he’s sporting a boner—and damn it, if that isn’t embarrassing after the way their first night went together.
“Awww, you’re so cute,” Mila had cooed as Jake became a whining mess under her. “So sensitive. Don’t worry, baby, I’ll take care of you.”
As if he hasn’t been the one who wanted to take care of her instead. But seeing as she had already slept with Jay and Sunghoon, Mila has an advantage over him, and was able to keep her calm a bit more easily. She didn’t even get to cun until after he did, and he still hadn’t gotten over it.
But at the time he was too lost in everything that was her. It was too much. She was too much. He didn’t even realise how they had gotten to that point. All he knew was that she looked absolutely divine wearing his shirt and no bra (just like now), and he had gotten lost in feeling her up, his lips attached to hers as if she were all the oxygen he needed to breathe.
His hands had peeled the shirt off from her, before lips found themselves down the valley of her breast, his finger rolling an erected nipple in one hand while his mouth latched to the other. His tongue swirled around the bud, and Mila had arched off the mattress, hands digging into his hair as he played with her breast, and suckled like a baby.
“God, Jakey, your mouth feels so good~” she had whined. And of course, he had to use it properly, or he wouldn’t forgive himself. He had kissed his way down to the hand of her pants, and then her panties. He tore them from her and left her bare, legs open and thighs on either side of his his head.
It was a routine he grew all too familiar with. He had fucked his tongue into her right hole—in and out again—while she clenched around him, her thighs threatening to crush his head as he ate her cunt like a starved man, right until she was cumming all over his tongue.
“Good boy,” she said. For some reason, that had been enough to make him lose all sense of himself. And before he knew it, she was taking his length in her hand as he moaned, begging and begging for her to take him inside her—to let him feel her warm cunt around his cock.
And now really didn’t the time to remember that.
“I’m fine, baby—aahh~” Jake can’t help the sound thay escapes when Mila is sitting up, her thigh rubbing against his hard-on in the process. “Fuck, baby, what was that for?”
“Sorry,” Mila squeaks. “I didn’t… I didn’t know…”
She looks so cute embarrassed, Jake thinks, as if she’s in the definition of a siren in bed—or at least, when they were in bed. Now she looks just like a startled little animal. Absolutely adorable.
“Jakey, do you want help?” Mila asks shyly, her hand reaching down to his pants. “I can—”
Jake grabs her wrist before she can go ahead, causing her to pause. “No, no—let me do you first.”
Before Mila can protest, Jake flips them over so she’s beneath her, eyes looking up at him with a mixture of surprise and arousal. He’s lost all sense of control now that he’s been caught, and he would be more ashamed if it weren’t for the fact that Mila is whispering his name with a desperate note.
“Please baby,” he begs, his lips leaning down to capture his. He groans against her lips as he sinks between her parted legs, her hips slotting against his perfectly. He grinds against her, practically jackrabbiting against her covered cunt. She moans helplessly against his assault, meeting his enthusiasm work her own. His senses now overridden by her and the feeling of her against him. “Fuck! Please, I need to see you cum for me before you do anything else.”
He’s not just desperate. He’s just desperate for her pleasure as he is for his own.
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HEESEUNG STIRS IN THE DARK. It’s still too earthly to be up, if the lack of light filtering through the curtains is an indication, but he can’t help it. He feels his girlfriend before he sees her—feels the way she’s clenching around his length in her sleep, whimpering and moaning like she had been a few hours ago, before they feel asleep with her warming his cock for him.
It might not have been a good idea to do so, Heeseung admits. But he’d be a liar if he didn’t say he was too obsessed with the feel of Mila around his cock, enough that he couldn’t even bare to pull out of her when they were finished last night. It was a long night, which he made sure to draw out, and even now he feels it’s not enough.
Mila had been so innocent when they started dating. His little angel hadn’t even kissed a man before, let alone wrapped around a man’s cock like she was now. He, on the other hand, was a little less pure—he had at least done more than her, at any rate.
His previous girlfriend had been an older one, and taught him the ways to pleasure a woman—something he was no grateful for, since it meant he could do the same for his baby, make her feel good until she was so fucked out in bliss she couldn’t speak. And he savoured taking her there step by step.
He got her used to his fingers, then his tongue, and now he was dead set on making her addicted to the feeling of his cock. Last night had only been the first step.
She had been so adorable, pouting as he refused to pay attention to her—playing hard to get as he focused on his game instead of her precious face. It wasn’t easy to do, but it was well worth it when she found herself boldly straddling his lap, acting like a little kitten trying to win affection. Her soft lips kissed their way up his Adam’s apple, teeth grazing it slightly—just the way he liked it.
He couldn’t resist giving into her, lips teasing hers and hands on her hips as he moved them back and forth against his clothed length. But then she was audacious and wanted more, pawing at his clothes in clumsy attempt to take them off which had him chuckling fondly to himself.
He remembers the way she had whined as he positioned himself at her entrance, teasing her slightly, before pushing all the way in, his impressive length reaching a depth his fingers never could. He watched as she became a mess beneath him, crying out his name in ecstasy as his hips rolled in steady motion, hitting that spot that had her seeing stars.
“How’s that?” He whispered.
“Feels so good~” she moaned. “So full…”
“Yeah? You can feel me right in here, can’t you?” He pressed down once abdomen, feeling the way he filled her up inside.
As the oldest and most experienced member, it was only right that he was last—or he will ruin any other man for her. She already seemed ruined enough though when she accepted his request to stay inside her.
“Let’s stay like this, okay?” He asked. “You feel too good to pull out.”
“Mkay,” she said obediently.
“Such a good girl for me,” he cooed, “keeping me warm.”
And she had babbled incoherently before falling asleep on his cock, and he had rolled over so she lay on top of him, breasts pressed against his chest, and their breaths exhaling and inhaling in unison. He had been having such a peaceful sleep, too, until she started to shift on her length, causing him to harden inside her with all her movement.
He was so lost in her that he even dreamt of them together like this, and caught himself moving his hips on his sleep. And, fuck, if that weren’t enough to make him fun on the spot, Mila had been feeling it all even as she slept. And now, he has to wake her up. It’s depraved, he knows, but now he has finally felt her around him, and it’s going to drive him insane if he doesn’t get his fill again.
He needs to fuck her, and see her expression twist with pleasure like it did before. Romantic, no. But he’s absolutely whipped, seeing her ruined beyond repair for his cock.
“Baby,” he groans into her ear, rubbing her back. “Baby, wake up.”
Mila stirs. “Oppa?”
Heeseung hums. “Shhh, I got you,” he says as he flips them over, so that he’s on top. “I’m sorry but I need to borrow your pretty little pussy for a bit, okay?”
Mila groans as she rubs her eyes. “Now?” She clenches around him, and Heeseung groans.
“Yeah, now. Is that okay, my love?” Heeseung pressed, wanting nothing more than to hear her permission. “I just need to fuck your pretty cunt again and you can go back to sleep, okay? It will be just like before.”
Mila moans, her walls pulsating around him. “Can you stay inside again?”
Fuck. Heeseung’s cock twitches inside Mila, and he thanks heaven that he’s been given such a perfect girlfriend.
“Of course. Anything for my sweet girl,” Heeseung coos, peppering her face with kisses as he slips out of her, before getting ready to thrust into her again. “I’ll make you feel good I promise. And we can cuddle again like before.”
He’d do it again and again and never stop if he could.
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© ENMI-LAND, ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, REPOST.
149 notes · View notes
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A/N: Not proofread, i’m just stoned and horny
TW: Beel is obsessed with you. brief, light mention of vore (not like actually though), they aren’t like, together so potentially dub consent (but reader is very enthusiastic so kinda not), alludes to MUNCH Beel.
Beel imagined you tasted sweet- like a nectarine.
Round cheeks, soft curves- pretty like a nectarine too. Even now, as you scolded him for eating the cookie dough you had in the fridge, eyes flashing as your finger jabbed his chest.
Beel was large even by demon standards, and you were short by human standards.
He wanted to take you seriously- truly he was very sorry for eating the cookie dough. It was just so sweet.
Like you, too sweet for him to really take you seriously.
You waved a hand in his face, realizing that his face was dazed.
“Hello? Beelzebub? Are you even listening?” Irritation lacing the sweet bell of your voice.
“Huh?” he blinked owlishly at you, blush coating his cheeks when he realized he’d been caught.
One hand perched on the swell of your hip, glaring at him in confusion and annoyance.
“You okay?” concern laced your sweet voice.
Beel couldn’t help but stare at your lips- wondering if you’d let him have a taste. Let him lick against your lips, into your mouth. Maybe even trail it down your skin, teeth grazing every now and again as if he was going to sink them into you, tear the flesh away.
He could nearly taste your confusion, your sweet concern.
Your hand pressed against his cheek, frown lacing your face.
“Do you have a fever?”
Beel felt his restraint slipping, stomach growling loudly.
Hunger frayed his conscience as you continued to fuss over him, concerned the raw egg had turned his stomach.
Your soft perfume reached his nose and he snapped.
His hands flashed to your hips, digging into the squishy flesh and dragging you closer.
His chest heaved as he sucked in your scent.
He was sure his eyes were blown out, his gluttony clearing any thoughts of shame.
A pulse of fear shot through your veins at the ravenous look on the large demon's face. Sure, he was a demon, and a gigantic one at that. But never once had you imagined him as dangerous towards you.
His fingers gripped you as if they were the only thing holding him in this plane.
Ragged breaths ripped from his chest as he hunched over you, all but panting- looking like a rabid animal.
“Beel?” your sweet voice reached his ears and he surged forward, lips slamming into yours, eagerly swallowing down the sugary taste of your surprised squeal.
His hand dug into the counter behind him as his other pressed you firmly against him as he growled into your mouth. His tongue dug into your lips, desperate to explore your mouth.
You moaned into his mouth, allowing his tongue to coax yours out, sucking the muscle into his mouth.
A new smell filled his nostrils-syrupy sweet, causing his stomach to growl loudly.
“G’nna try more of you,” he slurred out, and you yelped as you were suddenly on the counter, his fiery hair between your legs as he lewdly sniffed up your skirt- on his knees.
His mind was hazy at the saccharine scent, eyes rolling back.
He knew you were sweet…
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pretentious-blonde · 2 days
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birthday
pairing: steve harrington x reader
summary: steve never really cared for his birthday, his girl takes it upon herself to make sure he feels special. showing him how far he has come
warnings: none, fluff
a/n: steve likes madonna, fight me
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The morning was quiet, still. The sun had just about emerged over the horizon as you stepped out of the car, balancing two coffees and a small paper bag in your hands. You had made the effort to get up early, driving a little further to visit the little cafe you knew Steve loved. He practically begged for you to let him take the detour every time, which you did. You could never say no to him. Not when he asked so nicely, pinching his eyebrows together in a sorrowful expression. Pitiful, truly. 
You got there a bit after it opened, just to make sure the croissants hadn’t sold out. Steve had a soft spot for chocolate. All sweet things really, especially in the mornings. He wasn’t particularly vocal about it, but after months of observing him ordering pancakes from the diner and never skipping dessert after date night, you figured he would appreciate the sugar. 
Standing at his front door, you reached into the plant pot, grabbing the spare set of keys. You were one of the few people he allowed to have this information. You did mention to him that the majority of people keep the spare set in a place like that, but he disagreed, telling you that at least it wasn’t under the doormat. 
It had been previously, until Dustin found it and entered his home without warning. 
You unlocked the door as gently as you could manage, slipping inside and removing your coat and shoes. Gently, you placed the small bag of gifts for him by the door. He could open them up later. 
You tiptoed up the long staircase, coffee cups wobbling in your hands as you made your way to his room. It was miraculous that you didn’t drop them in your efforts to keep quiet. The door was slightly cracked open, you could make out his silhouette in the dim light. 
He was sprawled out on the bed, one hand under the pillow and the other lying next to him. He always had a habit of sleeping on his stomach, limbs tangled in a chaotic heap, it looked as though he had a battle with his sheets whilst he slept. His broad back rose and fell in tandem with his deep breaths, hair tousled and messy, face half-buried in the cushion underneath him. 
The sight brought a smile to your face, it was endearing how peaceful he looked. He was usually so put-together, but this? He seemed almost boyish, relaxed, unaware of the weight of the world on his shoulders. It was a sight that was reserved for you and you only. It was something precious. 
You carefully set the cups and bag down on the bedside table, knowing it was time to attempt something impossible. Waking Steve Harrington up. 
You leaned closer to him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, shaking him ever so slightly. 
“Steve…” you whispered, trying the kinder approach to wake up the man. If Robin was here she would have just told you to open up the curtains, but you couldn’t do that to him. At least not today.
“Mmmph,” was the groggy response you earned, he shifted his legs under the covers, burying his face even further into his pillow. 
You had to bite your lip to stop the giggle from escaping. You decided to shake him a little harder, trying to rouse him from his slumber. “Steve, come on. It’s time to get up.”
Ever the drama queen, he let out an exaggerated groan, a rouge arm flailing out from under the cover to try to bat away whatever was disturbing him. “Too early,” he mumbled, voice thick with the remnants of sleep.
You shake your head as you laugh, deciding to change tactics. You poke him playfully in the ribs, which earns you another groan, this time more awake but definitely more annoyed. 
“If you don't let me sleep, I swear to God…,” his voice trailed off, but there was no real threat behind his tone. 
Steve was certainly not a morning person by any means. He had no problem waking up if he needed to be somewhere, but he was certainly not fond of being woken up without prior knowledge. You had lost count of how many times he slurred that he needed five more minutes when you stayed over, giggling every time he shushed you with his embrace. 
“Yeah, yeah, tough guy,” you tease, perching on the side of the bed next to him. “I brought breakfast.”
That worked a bit better, a small but noticeable reaction—a low but sleepy moan of appreciation, as if the promise of food might be enough to drag him out of bed. You waited for a few seconds to see if there was any movement, you huffed when there wasn’t, his face now completely hidden by his arm. 
You prodded your finger on his back once again. “Steve…”
With a melodramatic grunt of effort, he finally rolled his body over onto the side, amber eyes blinking slowly as they adjusted back into focus. 
“Oh…hey, honey,” he greeted groggily, rubbing a hand over his face as he fought against his fatigue, completely forgetting about his previous comments. His brown hair was a complete mess, sticking up in all directions. You grinned as you took in his dishevelled appearance. “It’s early…what are you doing here?”
“Did you forget what today is?” Your eyes widened, slightly suprised at his question. You couldn’t have got the wrong day, could you?
Steve furrowed his brows, seemingly still stuck between the realm of sleep and reality. “Day? What…oh.” The realisation was quick to dawn on him as his brain started to function. “My birthday, right.”
The reminder sent a wave of embarrassment through him, his lips turned into a small, sheepish smile as he realised his mistake. It never was a big deal to him, something he never really celebrated. Back in high school, he would just throw a house party, which would essentially just be a gathering filled with people who couldn’t care less about what day it was. 
His parents were hardly home, and even when they were, it was just a card handed to him when he woke up. He used to get some cash in them when he was younger, but it seems they even forgot that too. It wasn’t the money that mattered, they probably only did that because they forgot to get him a gift. But at least it was something. 
The last few years he honestly never remembered it. Only when it got dark, just him alone in the big, empty house he pondered celebrating it. But the idea just made him feel hollow. 
He glanced over to what you had placed on the side next to him, heart leaping when he recognised the familiar logo, he placed his hand on your leg as you continued to look down at him. “Thank you, honey…but you really didn’t have to.”
“Well, I did,” you gave him a stubborn look before crossing your hands over your chest, your expression not filled with any malice. “And I’m not done either. I have a few other things for you downstairs.”
His eyes grew bigger, his shock evident. He shuffled up, propping himself on his elbows as he stared at you. It was vulnerable, a look you rarely saw on him. 
“Ok, now you really didn’t have to,” he murmured, tone softer now. 
You waved your hand in front of him dismissively. “Just enjoy it, okay? I’m giving you the whole ‘breakfast-in-bed’ treatment here.”
Now that forced a grin on his face as he sat up fully, his movements still slightly sloppy. “Breakfast in bed, huh? You’re gonna make me spoiled.” You went to stand up but were immediately stopped by a pair of arms winding around your centre. “Where do you think you’re going? I’m not eating alone.”
You squealed in surprise as he dragged you up the bed, only releasing you when you were firmly settled by his side, under the duvet and everything. “Fine, fine. But if you get crumbs in the bed, it’s on you.”
He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, already tearing the croissant in half, not caring about the mess. “Worth it,” he smirked before popping a piece into his mouth, holding the other out for you along with the coffee. 
You rolled your eyes as you took a sip from the cup, nudging his shoulder with your own as you both ate. The morning sun was creeping through the cracks in his blinds, illuminating his features just right. He sighed as he leaned against the headboard, shoving the last piece of pastry into his mouth before gathering up the rubbish from the two of you. 
He slid out of bed, reaching above his head lazily, his shirt lifting slightly to reveal a slither of his toned stomach. He gave you a sly grin when he caught you staring at him, feeling a sense of pride. 
He loved it when he felt wanted, especially by you. 
“Careful, sweetheart. Staring like that could get you in trouble.” 
You grinned wide, leaning back against his headboard, making a deliberate display of looking him up and down. “Who me?”
He shook his head and chuckled under his breath. God, you were trouble. He made his way over to his wardrobe, pulling out a pair of blue Levi’s and a classic Steve Harrington polo. He tossed the clothing items on the bed, glancing over at you, his tone low and teasing. “If you keep looking at me like that, I might just forget the plans downstairs.”
You raised an eyebrow at his suggestion, holding in a sly grin. “Who says I mind?”
He tilted his head back with a groan, as he stripped out of his pyjamas, leaving him only in a pair of boxer shorts. He grabbed his jeans and pulled them up with deliberate slowness, knowing you would be watching his every move. “Oh, trust me,” he smirked as he reached for his belt. “I could make it worth your while, but…” He tugged on his shirt over his head, raking his fingers through his hair in a weak attempt to fix it. “I think I’d rather make you wait.”
“You’re such a tease, Harrington.” You glare at him playfully.
He raised an eyebrow, walking slowly over to where you were sitting. His arms were crossed as he leaned over you, lips purposefully brushing against your ear, sending a shudder down your spine. 
“I think you like when I tease you, sweetheart,” he whispered before pulling away. 
Your cheeks heated as you tried to recover, shifting your attention away from his comment. “Finish up in here, or you’ll be the one begging for attention later.”
He grinned devilishly, finally backing off and tugging some socks over his feet. He opened the door dramatically holding his spare hand out in front of him. “After you, honey,” he said, his voice now sickeningly sweet. 
You shoved the covers off with a giggle, smiling as you passed in front of him. Steve was close on your heels, placing his firm hands on either of your shoulders as you descended the stairs. As you reached the bottom, his eyes landed on the gifts you left by the door. He was overcome with a sense of tenderness at the sight of them, all wrapped up with cheesy wrapping paper. 
“Angel,” his voice now lacking the teasing tone present before. “This is…this is really sweet.”
You carried on walking towards it, picking them up before leading him to the living room. Pushing him down on the large couch and taking a seat next to him, your legs now brushing together. You were buzzing with excitement as you handed him the first package—a small box which he eagerly tore into. Paper falling away to reveal a tape. 
He looked closer at the label, in your swirly handwriting were the words ‘BMW Bangers’. It earned a full-bodied laugh from him. He deduced this was gonna be the new go-to when driving around with you. 
He turned it over to look at the tracklist, also written by you. He nodded his head as he read over it, all of his favourites seemed to be present, Duran Duran, Bruce Springsteen, Womack and Womack, and a few other hits. He paused when he spotted the last name causing a guilty smile to spread. 
“Madonna?” He asked in an accusatory fashion. 
You beamed. “Hey, I saw you singing along to her on the radio. You’re not slick.”
He shook his head, opened his mouth and began to protest. “No, you didn’t.”
“Yeah, I did.”
Steve huffed, pushing your head away from him in a teasing manner, turning the cassette back over in his hands. “Okay, fine. But you can’t tell anyone.”
“Your secret is safe with me.”
He looked at you then, eyes softer despite his teasing demeanour. “This is amazing, sweetheart. Seriously.” He tells you truthfully, he was itching for a reason to get in his car now. Wanting nothing more than to spend the day driving around with you in the passenger seat, singing along terribly. 
“I try my best,” you say cockily, planting a gentle kiss on the corner of his mouth.
With slightly pink cheeks, he placed the first gift down on the table and took the second from your hands, removing the wrapping just as carefully. When the present was finally revealed to him, his face lit up. 
“Oh man, look at this,” he said whilst rubbing his chin. In his hand is a framed picture of him and the kids, all with huge smiles at the pop-up Christmas market a few months back. He was looking mildly irritated, most likely with you insisting on a group photo of all of them. The memories of that day replayed in his mind over and over, it was one of the best holidays he had.
“Damn,” he laughed again, shaking his head slowly whilst taking in every detail of the image in his hands. “It’s like the cover of some crappy sitcom.”
“I know right?” You leaned in closer to him, eyes scanning over it. “The Brady Bunch 2.0. We could aim for a reboot.”
“Could be my big break,” Steve snickered. He was joking, but as his thumb brushed over the glass, you could see how much this meant to him. The family he never had. The family that chose him. That would always choose him. 
“Don’t let the kids see this,” he set the frame down gently next to the cassette. “Can’t let the little shits think I’ve gone all sentimental.”
“Steve, they already think that,” you tell him, tone light but honest. 
“My reputation is ruined,” he complained sarcastically, but he couldn’t deny how proud he was. How far he had come. “You know that Dustin even called me ‘dad’ the other day? It was an accident but…”
You chuckled at the idea of it. You couldn’t deny it though, Steve most certainly took on a parental role with the kid. Being the father figure he missed so much growing up, it was something both he and Dustin could relate to. You admired how deeply they cared for one another.
“Thank you. For—for all of this,” he rested his hand on your thigh, turning to face you fully. “Really, it means a lot.”
You brush his hand off as you wrap your arms around his midsection. He returns the embrace immediately, holding you close to his warm chest, resting his chin on your head. 
“You’re welcome,” you say, voice muted by the material of his shirt. “But, uh…don’t get too comfortable.”
He pulled back slightly, hand resting on the back of your neck as he held your gaze with curiosity. “Oh?”
“Well, I kind of… may have arranged for everyone to come over later,” you admitted, suddenly second-guessing your decision. “I mean, you didn’t have anything planned, so I thought maybe a surprise would be nice, but now I’m telling you, so it’s not really a surprise anymore, and—shit—I should’ve asked first—”
“Shh, angel,” he cut you off gently, placing a finger against your babbling lips. His voice was, calm, reassuring, laced with pure affection. “It’s fine. You’re fine. It’s perfect.” 
You blinked up at him slowly, taking in the familiar, easygoing grin that spread across his face. 
“I wasn’t exactly planning on throwing a rager,” he wrapped his arms around you again, feeling lonely without you pressed up against him. “You really went all out for me, honey. I love it.”
“Okay, good,” You sighed in relief. “I was worried I’d ruined the whole thing.”
“Nah.” Steve pressed a soft kiss to your lips. “You just gave me a reason to be excited about my birthday again.”
You felt your stomach warm at his words, his affirmation overwhelming you with a rush of affection. You glanced up at him one more time, only to find his gaze locked on the photo on the table. I guess now would be as good a time as ever to break the news. 
“Oh, by the way…” you began, a hesitant grin creeping onto your face. “Eddie is in charge of the food.”
“Eddie?” His face froze in stunned disbelief at your statement. “Eddie in charge of food?”
You nodded, choking down the giggle building in your throat at his expression. “Yeah, he said he could handle whatever barbeque you have. Thought you’d appreciate the help.”
“Absolutely not!” You laughed at his horrified expression, which only spurred him on further. “No way am I letting Munson anywhere near a grill. He’ll burn the place down!”
You burst out laughing at the thought, picturing Eddie dramatically waving a spatula over a flame, maybe even wearing a ‘kiss the cook’ apron. “Come on, Steve. How bad could it be?”
Steve shot you a deadpan look, truly baffled as to why you cannot see that this is a terrible idea. “Do you remember the last time he tried to cook at a party? We ended up ordering pizza because he set the stove on fire. Twice.”
“Alright, alright, maybe I’ll keep an eye on him,” you give in as he breathes a sigh of relief. “You can handle the burgers, grill master.”
“I like that better,” his body relaxing once more underneath yours. “No calling the fire department on my birthday. Please.”
You snuggled further into his chest, hiding the smile in the fabric. “Glad you like it.”
“I love it,” he tells you, gently placing his hand on your jaw, using his index finger to lift your face to meet his eyes, his smile was rich with adoration. The soft look was so intense it nearly took your breath away. He pressed his lips against your own, holding onto you for a little while longer. Until the inevitable chaos arrived at his front door in just a few hours. “I love you.”
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Hi can I request first time with chan with shy reader? 🥺👉🏼👈🏼
i’ll help you through it, yeah?
pairing: chan x virgin reader
genre: smut, fluff, friends to lovers
word count: ~2.6k
warnings: mutual pining, pet names, protected sex, praise.
authors note: i have this request in my inbox for other members as well, so look out for those in the future. i have so many requests (tysm btw) so it’s taking me a little while to get through them. i’m trying to do the oldest ones first because y’all been waiting so long. - not me blushing while writing this. i wish my first time was this sweet. lol
masterlist
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"i’m just sick of it, ya know?" you complained. "i’m sick of feeling like this. like im unwanted and missing out on something."
your best friend looked at you, intently listening, but worry starting to mar his features. "are people being mean to you because you’re a virgin?" you could sense the anger threatening to rise up out of him at the thought of someone being mean to you.
"no. this is just pressure i’m putting on myself at this point. im too old to still be a virgin."
"i don’t think that’s true." chris said. "i thought you were saving yourself for someone you really loved? wasn’t that the point?"
he was right, you had always said that since you and chris were kids. you didn’t want your first time to be some fleeting, gross experience. you wanted it to be sweet and full of love. but, it didn’t seem like that was working out and you were tired of waiting.
"yeah well i don’t think that’s going to happen." you said, your voice soft, almost sad. "the person i love doesn’t love me, so im just going to have to give up on that." you chuckled sadly, the sound almost a scoff.
"i understand that. im in the same situation." he confided. "but i haven’t given up. i don’t think you should either."
you looked over at him, the space between you both on the couch was small. you could feel the warmth radiating off of him. that’s just how chris is. he’s warm. he’s warm and he’s safe and.. how could you not be in love with him? your heart longed for him to be the one to take your virginity. your heart ached with the thought of it.
he looked back at you with his big brown eyes, his curly hair tickling his eyelashes. and he thought you were the most beautiful person he had ever seen. why couldn’t you just see how in love with you he is? he hated himself for not being able to confess to you. for not being able to just come clean and tell you how you are the center of his universe. but he was scared. to have you as his best friend and to long for you but never have you was better than telling you and losing you all together. but maybe.. he could try to help you with your current problem? see how things went and then he could decide from there what he would do.
"i could maybe.. help you." chris said shyly, rubbing his sweaty palms together in his lap.
you were shocked. "help me? with this?" why would he offer to help you unless he also wanted to? you felt a small bit of hope bloom in your chest.
"only if you want to." he said quickly. "i’m not trying to push myself on you. i’m just trying to help. we don’t have to."
you thought about it for a moment, your body screaming at you to say yes. but your mind was telling you everything that could go wrong. what if he hated it? found you gross and laughed at your inexperience? you brushed those thoughts off. you and chris has been friends for over fifteen years. he would never do something like that to you. he was kind.
"i would be okay with that.." you said. "but it might not be very good."
"i’ll help you through it, yeah?"
you loved him. god you loved him. this was the right decision,you knew that.
he scooted closer to you on the couch, your thighs pressed against each other. he touched your face, turning you to look at him. he looked in your eyes before saying "if you want to stop, just tell me,okay? i won’t be mad." you nodded as he looked down at your lips. and ever so slowly, not wanting to overwhelm you or scare you, he leaned it. his pillow soft lips made contact with yours and you were done for. he moved his lips against yours, his hand moving to cradle the back of your head. your hands found their way around his neck, tangling in his curls.
this felt so right, but your stomach churned with worry. your body was still tense.
"sweetheart, relax." he whispered against your lips. "you know me." he kissed you again, his tongue grazing your bottom lip. you felt embarrassed. kissing chris felt like the first time you had ever kissed anyone,even though that wasn’t the case.he had you so flustered, your lips weren’t listening to your brain’s commands. you opened your mouth and let his tongue in. he tasted sweet.
he pulled away, admiring your flushed cheeks. "do you want to move to your bedroom?" he asked. you nodded, and he stood, offering you his hand. he led you though your apartment and to your bedroom, knowing the way by heart. standing at the edge of your bed, he pulled you close. he kissed you again, his hands finding their way under your shirt, tickling the skin of your tummy.
"can we take this off?"
your hesitation made him pull away, studying your face for any signs of wanting to stop. "would it help if i took mine off first?" you nodded again, thankful for his suggestion. "you want to help me?"
you grabbed the hem of his black shirt and pulled it up and over his head, discarding it on the floor. you looked at him, at his body. you had seen him shirtless multiple times over the years. summers spent together swimming and early mornings at his apartment after late night study sessions, but this was different. his chest was bare because he wanted you to see it. and that made your skin hot.
"now you.." he said, reaching for your shirt slowly, giving you time to protest. but you didn’t. you let him pull your shirt off, leaving you standing in front of him in your jeans and lacy black bra. his eyes grew wide, his breath catching in his throat. could he do this? you were so beautiful and he hadn’t even seen all of you yet. you were starting to squirm under his stare. his hands were warm and soft as they grazed over your skin, his arms wrapping around your waist as he moved to kiss you again. his fingertips danced up your back, until they unclasped your bra and it fell to the floor. he continued kissing you, not looking at your bare chest right away, giving you time to get used to being bare in his presence. you nipples brushed against his chest, growing harder. arousal pooling between your legs as his kisses moved to your jaw and then your neck.
he took his time with you, slowly placing wet kisses on your skin as he guided you to the bed. he laid you down gently, his body hovering above you. he kissed down to your collarbones, across your chest and down to between your breasts. he looked up at you, his lips still pressed to your skin. your cheeks were red, your mouth slightly open as you tried to draw in breath. he saw no signs of stopping in your eyes. no , they begged him to continue. his lips closed around one of your nipples, his tongue gently caressing the nub. his hand gripped your waist as he sucked on your nipple, your hands balled into fists at your sides.
"you can touch me if you want to, baby." he said, his breath blowing cold against the wet skin of your breast. "don’t hold back."
he kissed his way across to your other nipple as you brought your hands to his hair. he started to move lower, until his lips were against your belly button, and even lower still until his tongue was running along the top of your jeans. "can i take these off?" he asked, fingers grazing over the button and zipper. with your approval, he carefully unbuttoned them and slid them down your legs, revealing your panties that matched your bra. he looked up at you, his face only inches from your center. "you’re so wet, baby." he said. "i can see a little wet patch on your panties."
your face flushed and you turned your head, hiding your embarrassment in your pillow.
"hey.. hey.." he said, his hand finding yours, tangling your fingers together. "don’t hide, baby. let me see your pretty face." you did your best to look at him, trying not to focus on your insecurities, but trying to focus on him instead. you squeezed his hand, his kind brown eyes showing nothing but love. he kissed your hip, and across your skin until he was placing a gentle kiss on your clothed clit. you jerked slightly. "is that the spot baby?" you nodded, biting your lip.
he pulled away, standing up. he chuckled at your pout, your little whines of protest. "just let me take these off." he unbuttoned his jeans, and kicked them to the side. he was only wearing his underwear now, his erection causing the material to stretch uncomfortably. he admired your body from this angle. your arms wrapped around your middle, your legs bending, trying to cover yourself. "don’t." he said, grabbing one of your wrists in each hand and holding your arms out. "let me look at you, baby. god, you are so beautiful."
his hands found their way back to your breasts,squeezing slightly before his fingertips grazed down your skin to the elastic of your panties. he hooked his fingers around them. "can i take these off? can i see your little pussy?" you lifted your hips in answer, helping him slide them off. you were completely naked in front of him now but you didn’t have time to be self conscious about it. his lips were already back on your skin,kissing everywhere he could reach. "fuck you’re so pretty." he mumbled against your tummy. "been dreaming about this."
what did he mean by that? you wondered.
"can i see you too?" you asked, your voice sounding so loud to your own ears, having been silent for so long. but you were starting to feel more comfortable. he made you feel so safe.
"of course you can." he said, straightening again to take his briefs off. and now you got to admire him for a moment. the hard muscles of his chest and abdomen leading down to his hard and leaking erection. the first thing you thought was that he was big. but honestly, you didn’t really have much to compare it to.. so what did you know? "don’t worry baby. we’ll go slow." he said, sensing your hesitation.
he leaned down to kiss your lips once again, his fingers making contact with your wetness. he rubbed soft circles on your clit. you grabbed onto his shoulders, your small whimpers falling into his mouth.
"does that feel good?" he asked.
"yes.." you breathed. "so good."
his fingers traveled down through your folds and teased your entrance. "i’ve got to prepare you a little bit, okay? like this.." and he slid one finger inside of you slowly, pumping in and out. you had done this to yourself before but this was completely different. you had never felt like this before. "there you go, baby." once he felt you had gotten used to the first finger, he added a second. he moved them in and out slowly, his thumb rubbing softly on your clit. you could feel your orgasm building. you were embarrassed by how quickly it had come. but you had been waiting so long for him to touch you like this, you couldn’t help it. he could feel you fluttering around his fingers. "are you going to cum?" he whispered against your neck, his lips pressing soft kisses, his teeth nibbling.
"yes.. yes fuck." you panted.
"go ahead, baby. let go."
and you did, you clamped down on his fingers, his name falling from your lips as your body shook.
he had been fantasizing about you moaning his name like that for so long now that it took everything in him not to bust right then. he took a deep breath, pulling his fingers out of you. you watched as he brought them to his mouth and licked them clean, your pussy dripping and pulsing, begging for more. he leaned over the side of the bed and fished a condom out of his pants pocket.
"are you ready?" he asked, holding the condom up.
"yes please." you said, breathless.
"ooh so polite." he teased, giggling as he tore the foil pack open. you watched as he pumped himself a few times, precum leaking from his swollen tip, before sliding the condom down his length. he leaned down and cupped your face, kissing you softly. "remember, we can stop at any time. just tell me. okay?"
"i don’t want to stop." you said, desperate. "please don’t stop."
he smiled. "i won’t unless you tell me to." he knelt in front of you, his hands on your knees, spreading your legs. he lined himself up with your entrance before slowly pushing the tip in. you gasped and his head fell back, his mouth open. he slowly inched his way inside, giving you time to adjust. you whined under him, your eyes squeezing shut at the stretch. "i know, baby. i know." he said. "you’re doing so good." once you felt his thighs on the back of yours, he stilled. letting you properly adjust to his size. he could feel you pulsing around him, his cock begging to cum. "i’m gonna move now, okay?"
you nodded frantically. "yes. yes please, please."
he slowly pulled out and pushed back in, his pace increasing with each thrust. he wasn’t going to last much longer. he knew that. "fuck— baby you feel so g—good." he stuttered. his hands were digging into your hips as he pumped into you. his mouth open, his eyebrows scrunched together, his hair sticking to his forehead. "are you doing okay?"
"fuck yes.." you gasped. "gonna— gonna cum."
he could feel you squeezing around him. he fell down on to his elbows, his arms caging your head, his panting breath in your ear. he continued pumping in and out of you, the wet sounds filling the room. "cum with m-me baby." he said. "fuck- fuck-"
you squeezed him tighter as your orgasm washed over you, you vision going dark. his thrusts got sloppy and then stopped all together as he spilled into the condom. he collapsed next to you, his panting matching your own. he lazily kissed your jaw and your shoulder. "i love you.." he said.
you froze.
"shit- sorry." he said. "i- i didn’t mean to ruin the moment.. it slipped out."
you turned to face him, his brown eyes looking worried. "i love you too.."
his hand caressed your cheek, his thumb rubbing softly back and forth. "really? you’re not just saying that because your overcome with emotion right now?"
you shook your head no. "i’ve been in love with you for a while now.." you confessed.
he chuckled. "i’ve been in love with you for a while. guess we were both too scared to say anything."
you nodded, feeling blissfully happy. you nuzzled into his chest, wrapping your arms around his waist.
"are you okay?" he asked. "was that.. okay?"
"i feel amazing." you said, your voice muffled by his chest. "i’m glad i waited for someone i truly love."
"gahh my heart." he said, squeezing you tighter,
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