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#boy sweater Producer
customsweaterproducer · 9 months
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jumper cardigan Maker
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YS-SWEATER MANUFACTURING https://sweatermanufacturing.com
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kpop-bbg · 5 months
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sweatermakers · 9 months
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cashmere sweater set manufacturer
YS Sweater Manufacturer https://knittedsweater.net
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kittyhui · 3 months
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woozi baby fever + texts
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woozi x afab! reader
- jihoon never thought he would have baby fever
- tbh he didnt even think he wanted kids; being so busy with work anyways
- he definitely changed after meeting you though
- after dating for more than 6 months, he’ll be thinking about marriage and children hopeless romantic ugh
- after marriage or a few years of dating, his baby fever goes through the roof
- if he sees you with a baby or a small child, he will practically keel over with the thought of you with his child
- he acts like he hates children but he stays up at night thinking about you pregnant with his baby
- He feels insane when he makes lullabies instead of demos for his group. He has a folder named ‘for FC’ (for future child) full of songs for his non existent baby and he avoids any questions from his members and you when asked who FC is.
- Whenever he sees dad’s with their children he dies inside. He imagines that being him and him taking his baby out for a walk and taking them to his studio, playing them music
- one day, he hit his breaking point. He was hanging out with seungcheol and hoshi and they were talking about their babies (kkuma and latte LMAO) and how they were thinking of buying them cute winter doggy jackets and sweaters. they showed him picture after picture of clothes for their ‘babies’, sending his mind into overdrive. He wanted a baby. He wanted to buy his baby cute clothes and spoil them the way he spoils you. He didn’t just want it. He needed it.
- The moment he came home you could tell something was up. Sometimes jihoon would be a bit out of it, usually because of work and lyrics. This was different though. He was clinging to you unusually, his head resting on your stomach and his hands gripping your waist soft but firmly, not wanting to hurt you yet not wanting to let you go. He refused to talk whenever you asked what was wrong and would just blush deeper and deeper
- “Jihoon.” You finally say, tired of him evading your questions. Your stern voice makes him lift him head to look at you. “Is something going on? You’re acting strange today?” you were beyond concerned now as his ears turn a deep red and his eyes look away from yours.
- “I was with cheol and soon earlier…” he trails off nervously, “and I realized that I want a child with you. So badly. I’ve just been thinking about filling you up and I just want you to have my kid so badly. I’d take care of her so well, spoil both of you to death…” he cuts himself off, feeling embarrassed seeing your shocked face.
- “She?” is the first thing you say, smiling at him. jihoon quirks his head to the side confused, “you said, you’d take care of her so well. What if it’s a boy, hoonie?” you giggle at him, before leaning in to kiss jihoon’s cheek.
- “Boy or girl, id take care of them” he looks you in the eyes, “promise”
- You giggle at his seriousness, nodding at him. “Let’s have a baby then, ji” his smile is so wide it hurt, kissing you hard.
- “Thank you, baby. Thank you...”
- Now, after you get pregnant.. he’s actually insane.
- He tried to act calm and collected but if you try and carry anything heavier than your phone, he will carry it for you.
- He calls you every 40 minutes when he has schedules, asking you if he needs to come home early or if you need anything
- He bought a crib, walker, and a changing board for his studio as well as for your home. He spares no expense
- The moment you start showing, he will have his head on your stomach 24/7.
- “I felt them kick!” “Hoonie, I’m only 13 weeks, I don’t think the baby’s kicking” he doesn’t believe you btw
- Now, he will finally show you his ‘for FC’ folder, playing the songs in his studio for you and the baby to listen to
- He is always worried once you get close to your due date, convincing his company to put him on hiatus and work from home producing songs until the baby is born.
- “I’ll be fine, jihoon. The guys need you” “pretty, you are going to have a baby any minute now. They understand that you need me more.”
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a/n: this is so funny cuz i actually dont want kids but woozi baby fever is so real argue with a wall
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Simmer #9
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CH9. Simmer | The Menu 18+ [6K] Eddie Munson x shy fem!reader: a line cook au.
“We’re gonna be late.” 
Your voice wasn’t much more than a high keen, a breathy thing that you managed to squeak out between Eddie’s kisses. You were at an awkward angle - not that you cared - leaning over the stick shift in the boy’s van to meet his lips. It was early, almost eight in the morning, your work day ready to start in only a few minutes. You weren’t even in uniform, not yet, still in a pair of worn jeans and one of Eddie’s stolen sweaters. 
September had crept in without you knowing, the heat leaving town with every new morning. The skies were still blue, an endless stretch of it, the clouds still big and white. But the suffocating warmth gave way to cooler mornings and colder nights, the sun dipping behind the diner by seven in the evening and leaving the tables in navy shadows. It was nicer. It gave you an excuse to curl into Eddie on the nights you shared a bed. 
Not that you needed one. 
“What do you mean we?” Eddie laughed, the noise vibrating against your throat, his mouth pushed there in an affectionate kiss. He nosed at the skin along your jaw, stretched over the centre console so he could sneak a hand underneath the maroon sweater, fingers grazing your ribs. “I’m not workin’ until tonight.”
You whined at the reminder, a needy, frustrated noise because even though Eddie had spent the night at your apartment, you still hadn’t had your fill. It had been weeks of seeing each other - dating - letting the boy take you out like he’d promised, dinners and movies and walks and late night conversations that bled into sleepovers that were filled with kisses and tangled legs, shared pillows and new pieces of information about the boy that you collected like jewels. 
Eddie Munson liked sleeping with the window open no matter what the weather. 
Every Saturday morning, before the sun had really risen, Eddie drove to the next town over to a place called Duck’s Farm and bought all the fresh produce he could from a man called Mr Duffy. They shared a coffee and swapped recipes under the shade of the apple trees. 
There were seven cats in the trailer park that Eddie fed every evening on his porch. Sushi, Mochi, Ramen, Cheeseburger, Toast, Nacho and Lasagna. Tiny plates full of kibble and leftover chicken beside a bowl of water and Eddie didn’t close the door until each cat had had their full and curled against his legs before hopping off into the night.  
Eddie liked to press kisses to your cheek when you least expected. Awfully sweet things, making your throat thick with fondness, sticky in affection. He’d dot them over your skin, across the apple of your cheeks and towards your temple, one on your forehead when your head lay next to his on his pillow. 
Eddie had an awful habit of insisting on driving you to work even when he had a day off or a chance to lie in, but then loved to make you late by pulling you into a soft kiss that turned into a make out session in the front of his van.  
Eddie Munson made you feel like a schoolgirl with a crush, an agonising thing that took up every waking thought. 
It was lovely. 
You hadn’t done more than kiss, albeit heated, all encompassing, hot and messy in the cradle of his lap, pressed against your apartment walls, the side of his van after work. But that’s as far as it had gone, for now. 
For now. 
“You’re awful,” you pretended to complain, titling your chin up so Eddie could kiss down your throat. “Leaving me all alone.”
The boy hummed, mouthing along your jaw until you were squirming, his big hand squeezed between the tops of your thighs as you pressed your legs around his fingers. “I know, m’the worst.” Another kiss, to the corner of your mouth. He still tasted like your toothpaste, the coffee you’d poured for him in your mug with the little fried eggs on it. “I’ll see you later, though. Bring you in something sweet, if that’ll keep me in the good books.”
You wanted to beam, you wanted to squeal. You wanted to scrabble into the boy’s lap and bury your face in the crook of his neck so he couldn’t see the effect he had on you. “You don’t have to,” is what you murmured instead. “It’s your afternoon off.”
Eddie nipped at your jaw, teeth grazing and making you jump. “I know I don’t have to,” he whispered back. He smoothed his love bite with a kiss. “But I wanna, that okay?”
You nodded, shy even after spending the night tucked into his side, his shirt in lieu of pyjamas, his sweater keeping you warm now. “Yeah, that’s okay.”
“Good,” Eddie grinned, smile matching yours although his seemed brighter, more lovely. “I’ll see you soon, don’t get any prettier, alright?”
You flushed hot and rolled your eyes to hide the way he’d got you flustered, gathering your bag as you opened the van door, leaning over to meet Eddie halfway. You hummed when his hand cupped your cheek, bringing you in for the fortieth kiss that morning, or at least there abouts. A longing thing, full of flirt and affection and built up tension. Then two short ones, lingering when you didn’t have time to, dots of Eddie’s lips on each cheek and then he was letting you go. 
“Have a good day, sweetheart.”
You wanted to pout and tell him you couldn’t possibly without him, but that seemed a little pathetic even for your standards. So you smiled and told him to do the same, your bag heavy against your side, packed with your uniform and a flask of tomato and basil soup eddie had made the night before, complaining with a smile about how your knives weren’t sharp enough, your pots too small for his big hands. 
—————
You were tying your apron when Chrissy caught you coming out the staff room, Eddie’s sweater swapped for your dress and you missed the smell of his cologne almost immediately. 
“Was that Eddie? Dropping you off?” Chrissy asked sweetly. Her hair was down today, curly and she smelled like lavender. “That’s sweet.”
You didn’t trust yourself to talk around the girl, not even now, too worried your voice would come out too small, too weak, cracking down the middle with anxiety. For what reason, you weren’t really sure, but if you thought about it hard enough, the image of Chrissy lounging over Eddie’s workstation was still stuck in your head even weeks later.  
“Mmm,” you hummed instead, smiling tightly as you both walked out through the kitchen and into the diner. 
It was a quiet day, the lunch service was slow and Steve was talking to a girl in a summer camp T-shirt in the corner booth, grinning at her with pink cheeks and bright eyes. Jonathan was whistling along to the radio, scooping fresh beans into the coffee machine with one hand as he played hacky sack with Argyle through the kitchen hatch with the other. 
It wasn’t until you were placing new cutlery on a recently cleaned table that you realised the girl was still lingering. Bubblegum snapping against peach tinted lips, Chrissy appraised you with a tilt of her head. “So, what’s Eddie doing today?”
“What?” You didn’t mean to sound so defensive, so snappy. But Chrissy sounded so sure and so confident with Eddie’s name in her mouth and it set your teeth on edge. “Uh, I’m, I’m not sure?”
“You’re not?” Chrissy pouted and pulled on a strawberry blonde curl. “You mean, you don’t know what your boyfriend is doing today?”
You placed the fork down a little too hard, the metal clattering against the table top, your chest a little too tight. 
Chrissy leaned in, dainty fingers straightening it up for you. “He is your boyfriend, right?”
You didn’t know the answer to that. Eddie had called you his girl, a public declaration for sure, but since that day there hadn’t been anymore talk about relationship statuses. And between the sleepovers and dates and kisses and the rides to work, you hadn’t worried about it, didn't doubt it. But now, with Chrissy staring at you with an expectant smile on her lips, question after question came back. Insecurity flooded your head, your chest, your thoughts. Had you read too much into it? Was Eddie looking for something serious? 
You thought back to Eddie’s words, what he liked to call you, hands on your hips, in your hair, lips on yours. Pretty girl, sweet girl, shy girl. And ‘my girl,’ you couldn’t forget that one. But the absence of the world ‘girlfriend’ seemed more apparent than ever in your relationship. 
“I, uh— yeah? Yes.” You sounded so much more confident than you felt but the regret stabbed you sharp as soon as you let the words leave your lips. 
Chrissy’s mouth curled up but it didn’t seem like a smile, not a particularly friendly one anyway. “Yes, he’s your boyfriend? Or yes, you don’t know what he’s doing today?” 
You blinked, heat rising up your neck in a way that felt familiar. It felt like panic, like being tricked and trapped and suddenly you wished you could turn on your heel and scramble for the safety of the kitchen, the safety of Eddie’s arms. But for now, the walk-in might just have to do. 
“Um. Uh, both?” 
You didn’t hang around for more questioning. No, you dropped the cutlery and breezed past Mr Creel, ignoring the way he scowled at you over the rim of his coffee mug. And when you skittered into the kitchen, Argyle was dicing chicken and Steve was dumping empty plates into the sink. Both boys looked up as you burst in, surprised at your sudden appearance but you held your breath and smiled tightly before heading straight for the walk-in. 
“Is everything oka—?” The door snapped shut before Steve could finish his sentence, but he reckoned that as long as you came out before your fingertips were blue, it wasn’t a concern. 
That’s how the rest of the shift went, the afternoon clinging onto the last of the sunlight as it faded into evening and you tried your best to avoid Chrissy for the most part. You waited on the few tables that filled, had some of Eddie’s soup and talked to Argyle over the sizzle of grilled chicken, disappearing into the walk-in whenever Chrissy said something that made your heart stutter and stop. 
“I can’t wait for Eddie to come in, think he’ll make me some of his ramen?”
“Oh my god, did Eddie tell you about the time there was a storm? The power went out and he drove across town to get me home safe, isn’t he such a sweetheart?”
 “How long have you and Eddie been official? Did he buy you a present? Did he ask you in a super cute way?”
So by the time the boy did appear for his shift, a whole six hours after he’d dropped you off, your fingertips were numb and you couldn’t feel your feet. But you lit up at the sight of him through the kitchen hatch, scribbling down Mr and Mrs Adele’s order in a messier scrawl than normal as you watched Eddie button up his chef whites over the shirt you’d watched him pull on that morning. 
You tried not to skip your way into the kitchen and honestly, you couldn’t even let the fact that Chrissy was already lingering pull down your mood. You put through your order before sliding up to the boy, smiling as he grinned at the sight of you, his hands busy tying back his curls but he still ducked his face down to yours, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. 
“Thought I told you that you weren’t allowed to get any prettier?” He scowled, dramatic and grumpy and lovely all at once. 
You wrinkled your nose at him, knowing fine well you had a collection of stains on the front of your apron and your hair wasn’t anywhere as neat as it had been the last time you saw him. “You’re a liar, Eddie Munson,” was all you could say, cheeks warm enough to make you forget about your cold hands. 
“I’m ain’t no such thing,” he murmured as he tucked a dish towel into his own apron. He didn’t even seem to notice Steve swanning into the kitchen, snorting at the sight of you both. “Y’had a good day?”
You hummed, noncommittal, too aware of the other girl who was pretending to look at the pantry shelves. So you shrugged and nodded at the same time, giving into your urges and letting yourself lean against the boy, your head against his chest. 
“You just missed me, huh?” Eddie whispered against the shell of your ear, all faux conspiracy and your skin prickled at the feel of his lips against you. 
That question gained another hum as an answer, but this one was much warmer, softer, much more agreeable. “You could say that,” you whispered back. 
The question was on the tip of your tongue, an awkward one for the workplace, sure, and you didn’t dare ask it with an audience but the not knowing ate away at a piece of your heart. And surely you couldn’t survive that. Right?
What are we? Are you mine? I know I’m yours. Do you want me? Can I have you? Can we do this? Please, let’s do this. 
Eddie must’ve sensed your mood, your apprehension, because he pulled back enough so he could see your face, one big hand cupping your chin so he could guide it upwards until your eyes met his. That grumpy face came into view, that lovely, pretty, frowning expression you’d come to understand so well. It meant he was worried, it meant he was concerned. It meant that he cared. 
“You okay?” 
You nodded after a beat of hesitation, smiling enough that your eyes crinkled in the corners. 
“You had food?”
You nodded again, heart aching as your hands reached out almost as if you couldn’t stop them, sliding around his sides and clinging to his clean chef jacket. 
“You gonna come hang out w’me after dinner rush?”
Your hands weren’t cold anymore and although you couldn’t see it, you heard the swing of the door as Chrissy left.  “Yeah,” you finally spoke. “Yes please.”
—————
Jim’s emptied out after eight o’clock. No one in Hawkins seemed to crave any burgers or shakes on a Tuesday night and that was okay with you. Steve’s shift had long ended, Chrissy was getting ready to hang up her apron at nine o’clock and hand over to Nancy. But when Argyle turned off the last grill, Eddie looked out the hatch at the empty tables, he turned to Nancy and told her to take the night off. 
She’d raised a pointed brow, suspicious. “Will you take me off the timesheet?”
Eddie scoffed, “no.”
“Will you tell Jim?”
“You callin’ me a snitch, Wheeler?”
So Nancy took the night off, the diner stayed empty, the neon light above the bar flickered and you and Eddie were alone. 
It was tempting to lock the door, but the roads and the parking lot were quiet, lit by old street lights, the air turning cooler now the sun was gone. You watched Eddie pull out a mixing bowl, the radio playing a song you didn’t know, perched on the countertop with your apron in a crushed heap beside you. You swung your legs to the beat as you watched him, eyes curious as he dumped heaps of flour, brown sugar and cinnamon into the bowl. 
Butter and eggs, huge chunks of chocolate and fudge. 
“What’re you making?” You asked, smiling warmly as Eddie grinned and sauntered over to you, leftover chocolate between his fingers. 
Eddie hummed, nudging at your knees with his hips until you spread them for him, cheeks warm as the hem of your dress slid up a little. He stood close, curls pulled loose, a chunk of sweetness between his finger and thumb. He lifted it to your mouth, brushing at your lips, his eyes tracking the movement the whole time. 
You were sure you heard him breathe out a little heavier than before when you parted them for him, lips grazing his fingertips, tongue barely touching as you took the piece of chocolate. Eddie didn’t say anything when you bit into it, milky, sweet, rich. With nothing to hold, his hands fell to your thighs, palms warm and strong as they gripped you tighter than expected. You watched the boy swallow, throat bobbing and his gaze still on your mouth. 
“Cookies,” he murmured distractedly. “Was gonna make cookies.”
“Going to—?”
Eddie leaned in without much preamble, catching your lips in a kiss you almost didn’t expect. It wasn’t the soft, gentle kind you had been used to, the coaxing type that he always began with. This was a kiss that reminded you of the night in the trailer, the night with grilled cheeses and distractions. He was on you fast, desperate and you met him with just as much eagerness. 
You gasped into his mouth, lips parting immediately, sighing when his tongue licked over yours. It was easy for your hands to wind into his hair, nails scraping nicely over his scalp, making him groan and pull you closer to the edge of the counter. His hands were already wandering, a needy touch, fingertips skating upupup under your dress, skimming over the elastic edge of your underwear and suddenly all the kisses you’d shared weren’t nearly enough anymore. 
Maybe it was insecurity, maybe it was possessiveness. Maybe it was just the way Eddie was kissing you, but suddenly you needed all of him, all at once. 
“Eddie,” you sighed his name, gave it to him on a breath and it tasted like chocolate, sweet and sugary and you. It made his expression crumple, his hands pulling you closer still, fingers digging into the dough of your ass and suddenly you were flush enough against him that you could wrap your legs around his hips. “I— I just—”
The boy nodded like you knew, even if you weren’t sure what you were asking for yourself. So he let you throw yourself back at him, lips pressed almost clumsily to his, teeth clacking before your nose bumped his and you tilted your head just the right way. Eddie made pretty noises for you, hands roaming up to your hips, trapped between the cheap material of your dress and bare skin. Fingers gripped at your underwear, tugging just enough for the cotton to peel away from you. 
“Fuck, fuck,” Eddie gasped, breath taken from him, sounding wrecked. He pulled away just enough to rest his forehead against yours, chest heaving. “Shit, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t— we should… stop…”
The rejection stung for just a second, maybe two, but you watched Eddie’s gaze fall back to your mouth and he didn’t take his hand away from your bare legs. You shook your head, lips parted and glossy from his kisses, your nose nudging up against his as you leaned in again, needy, wanting. 
“Please don’t,” you murmured and Eddie thought it was the sweetest thing he’d ever heard.  
“Should be takin’ you to a bed,” Eddie told you, stern sounding but he was kissing across your jaw, dotting his lips over your chin, the apple of your cheek. 
You whined, not agreeing or disagreeing, but you tugged at Eddie’s curls all the same, coaxing Eddie back into a kiss and it was heated, it was longing, it was teeth and tongues and everything you weren’t supposed to be doing in the workplace.  
“Should be takin’ my time with you,” Eddie groaned, sucking marks into your neck, palming at your ass and hissing when you rocked yourself against him, trying to gain some friction to ease the throb between your thighs. “Should be stripping you down and getting you in my sheets.”
The idea of it made you keen but Eddie was popping the top buttons of your dress and nosing at the collar, pushing it out of his way so he could see the swell of your breasts and kissing at your shoulder over your bra strap. “You need to tell me to stop, sweetheart, or—”
“Nonono,” you told him, “don’t wanna stop. Don’t need a bed, don’t need— Eddie, I just want you, please.” You sounded as shy as you did desperate, cheeks warm, eyes heavy with need, squirming on top of the metal station as you tried to keep yourself together. 
“Hey, hey, don’t ever gotta say please for me, ‘kay?” Eddie’s brows knitted together, hands leaving your legs just to cup your cheeks. His thumbs smoothed over your cheeks, pressing sweetly into them until you nodded. “Gotta be quick though, yeah? M’gonna take my time with you later, promise, baby.”
You nodded as you both spared a glance at the empty diner. Luckily, the hatch was at an angle where no one would see much if they happened to walk through the door, but Hawkins seemed to be asleep and the night was just for you and Eddie. 
“Hold onto me,” Eddie ordered and he sounded gruff, voice heavy with emotion, with want and you watched his lashes flutter when you did as were told, looping your arms around his neck. It helped you lift your hips for him, made it all the easier for the boy to hook his fingers into the sides of your underwear and pull. “Atta girl, there you go.”
He pocketed the cotton and lace, glancing back at the door one more time and the radio changed, static interrupting the station before a new song kicked in, a familiar voice crooning through the speakers. 
“Well, here I am, my honey. C’mon, you cry to me.”
No time was wasted when Eddie pulled your legs apart, thumbs sweeping at the sensitive skin on the inside of your thighs, a soothing touch that only made you burn worse, the heat from the summer coming creeping back into the autumn night, the kitchen burning, a simmer under your skin. You reached up, searching, looking for a kiss but Eddie shook his head, curls falling into his eyes and the softest of smiles on his lips. 
“Wanna watch, yeah? Can I do that?” He asked, a hand sweeping from your neck to your chest, fingers played over your sternum, sneaking into the open buttons until they flirted with the lace edge of your bra and he could push you back a little. You leaned onto the palms of your hands, stretched out for him, waiting, breath held. “You’re so pretty. Prettiest girl, my shy girl, huh? So good for me.”
Eddie spoke quietly, praise mixing with the music and you keened, eyes shuttering closed as his thumb swept softly over your folds, barely parting you, just letting you get used to his touch. If he’d had more time, if he’d had you in his bed, he would’ve kissed his way from ankle to hip bone, pressed kisses and marks into your skin until you looked like a painting. But for now, he watched your face crumple and scrunch when his thumb pushed in and found your clit, wet and slick for him, your mouth falling open in a quiet moan as he rubbed small circles. 
“Good?” He asked and it wasn’t cocky, it wasn’t dirty, it was an earnest question. Teach me, it said. Help me make it good for you, show me what you like. “Like that, sweetheart? Or harder?”
You gasped, nodding your head and trying to keep your gaze locked on Eddie’s. He moved his hand perfectly, pace steady and his touch gentle, before it built a little, pressing a little firmer and your toes curled. “Like that,” you whimpered, voice cracking. “Just like that, Eddie.”
“Good girl,” Eddie told you, his free hand sweeping up your ribs, fingers dancing over the buttons he didn’t dare undo. Not here. Not yet. Not like this. He leaned over you, dotting kisses where he could reach. Your cheek, your nose. “You’re so good for me, baby. So fuckin’ cute, you know that? Those noises? Gonna knock me dead, sweetheart, Christ.”
You made that noise, a gasping, breathy thing as Eddie slid a finger into you, a slow, tight stretch that had you spreading your legs for him again and this went against so many health code violations it wasn’t even funny, but you were past caring. Nothing else mattered except the way Eddie was looking at you and how he crooked his finger just right.
“I need you,” you told him, a hot whisper, an almost cry and you leaned back into him, tugging at his collar until he got the hint and kissed you something filthy, tongue licking over yours until your cunt got a little tighter around his knuckle. “Eddie, now, please.”
“Barely got you ready, babe,” Eddie panted, another finger joining the first and the stretch was delicious. The boy swore when you rocked your hips against his hand, pushing his own into your thigh so he could gain some friction on his aching cock. “Shit, shit, okay, fuck—”
“This isn’t what I had planned,” he rasped as he tore off his chef's jacket and let it bundle on the tiles. His hands were shaking as he popped the button on his jeans, the noise of his zipper quiet under the music. 
“Loneliness, loneliness, such a waste of time, woah, yeah…”
“Wanted to treat you right, wanted to take my time,” Eddie assured you again, but he groaned when your hands took over from his and you went searching under the band of his boxers. You found his cock, thick and hard, twitching at your touch. “Shit, sweetheart. Wanted to make you mine.”
There it was, the words that filled the hole in your chest. You were kicked into high gear, surging forward to press kisses to the boy’s neck, upupup until you were mouthing along his jaw, catching his lobe between your lips as you pumped your hand a little faster. Eddie clung to you, hips jerking as he rested his head heavy against the side of your own, his cheeks warm, his breath catching. 
“I am,” you told him. Your voice sounded watery, emotions caught between your teeth and tongue, your heart pounding so hard surely Eddie could hear it behind your bones. “Already am, okay? You’re mine right? That’s what this is?”
“Christ, yeah, sweetheart,” Eddie gasped, hands cradling your cheeks so he could kiss you, messy, distracted kisses that were broken up with groans and cries. “Thought you knew? Huh? You didn’t know that?”
You shrugged, half hearted because you were still too caught up in touching the boy, your fingers curled around his cock, revelling in how heavy it felt for you, how thick and hot and ready. “I wasn’t sure,” you admitted softly, teeth leaving marks on your bottom lip and you leaned in, forehead against Eddie’s as you watched him, transfixed, loving the way he was falling apart for you. 
Another gasp, Eddie’s jaw hanging open as you pumped him slowly, fingers getting tighter around him when you stroked over his tip. He was all pink cheeks and a wrinkled brow, his expression everything from pouty and flustered to completely gone. “Fuck, shit, slowdownpleasefuck— baby, you’ve had me since the day Wayne told me to drive you home. Made myself dumb over you,” he laughed, breathless. “Thought you knew you were my girl.”
“S’nice to hear it again, I guess,” you whispered and there it was, the thing you’d wanted. Reassurance. “Just felt… silly.”
Eddie pushed your hand away from him, soft, gentle, before he threw an uncaring glance over his shoulder at the empty diner and then pulled you in by the crooks of your knees. You let him hold you there, legs hitched around his hips and he pumped himself once, twice, before lining up his cock with your entrance, the tip of him brushing through your folds, slick and warm. 
“Gonna tell you all the time, ‘kay?” He whispered and he ducked his head down to yours, kissing you soft and sweet, his breath heavy against your cheek as you widened your legs, spreading open for him. “Jesus, sweetheart, alright? You ready?”
You nodded, mumbling your agreement against Eddie’s lips because your brain was too fuzzy to work properly. He was solid against you, holding your legs around his hips, broad shoulders under your hands and he smelled like brown sugar and chocolate, like smoke and your laundry detergent. You tensed, just a little when he pushed in, blinking at him when he paused and swept a thumb over your cheek. 
“Babe?”
“S’just been a while,” you admitted. “Keep going? Please?”
This wasn’t the quickie you both needed to have for the situation but the doors stayed closed and there hadn’t been any headlights from the road bouncing along the diner walls in an age. The evening was fading into night fast, a late night hour that usually stayed dead, the diners neon signs lighting up the tiles and the empty parking lot and the only thing that made a noise was the radio. 
“I’ll go slow, I promise,” Eddie assured you and he held you close as he pushed in, your body giving way to him and you gasped at the stretch, the heavy pressure of him filling you up until you were biting down at his shoulder and trying not to groan too loud. “There you go, baby, that’s it, you good?”
Eddie was panting, the breath punched from him at the feeling of you tight around him, clenching down on his cock until he felt his vision go a little sparkly. You were too much, looking at him with those big, glassy eyes all while your cunt fluttered around him, lips parted, red and swollen because of him. 
“I’m good,” you whined, breathless. You squirmed, both of you moaning at the feeling and you nodded, hands fisting Eddie’s shirt. “You can move, it’s okay.”
“M’not gonna last long,” Eddie admitted, his face buried in the crook of your neck as he hooked his arms under your thighs and started to flex his hips. “It’s been a while for me too - fuck - and you feel so fuckin’ good, sweetheart.”
It was a slow slide, in and out, in and out, Eddie’s hips meeting the cradle of yours, flush and warm and you were so wet, obscenely so, enough for the dirty sounds of the boy fucking you to fill the kitchen and suddenly gentle wasn’t what you needed anymore. A car drove past, lighting you both up in yellow-white light for just a second and the need to come now was too much. 
“Eddie, Eddie,” you cried for him, eyes wet with all the emotion, all the pent up tension you’d held on to for today and longer. “Faster, go faster—”
You didn’t need to repeat yourself. Eddie moaned, eyes fluttering as he pushed you back just a little, readjusting his grip on you until he was taking more of your weight than the table was. One arm under your knee, keeping you open for him, the other palming at your ass and he picked up the pace tenfold, pumping his hips into yours until his cock was pushing into a spot that had you keening high for him. 
“That’s it? Yeah? Right there, pretty girl?” He cooed, dipping down to kiss you, moaning filthy into your mouth as you got wetter still, the slick sounds filling the kitchen. “Touch yourself baby, touch your clit for me, that’s a girl, fu-uck—”
If someone had to have walked in then, you were you both would have had to leave town, never mind the job. One of your legs hanging off the from the table, muscles lax, dress hitched up around your thighs, your other leg bent of Eddie’s arm and held open so he could fuck into you, your ass barely perched on the edge of the table. Tits spilling out the top of your bra, one shoulder exposed, Eddie’s teeth marks on your skin and the chef himself was whispering dirty, sweet things to you, kissing at your cheeks, your chin, the corner of your mouth, his curls wild and the muscles in his arms flexing every time he held you still and thrust his hips into yours. 
“I’m close,” you told him, eyes watering at the white hot pleasure of it, crying out when the hook in your tummy got tighter and tighter, your fingers swirling messily over your clit as Eddie watched and groaned, his skin slapping against yours. 
“Yeah?” He asked and his voice was wrecked, his gaze heavy lidded and dark. He was a pretty picture, pink cheeked and a damp forehead, his curls clinging there, bottom lip pressed between his teeth. “Want me to tell you again, hmm? Tell you that I’m yours? That I’m all fucking yours, sweetheart? ‘Cause god, I am, I really am.”
He punctuated each word with a thrust, groaning every time his cock slid into you a little deeper, coming back out glistening, soaked. His words did magical things to you, breath hitching and back arching as you came, forehead falling lax against Eddie’s cheek before he nosed at your jaw and trapped you in a kiss, his thrusts stuttering as your cunt clenched down on him again and again and again—
He pulled out, almost too close, pumping himself over your thigh, cum dripping onto your skin and Eddie groaned into your mouth, letting you swallow down his moans as you petted over his cheeks, his hair, coaxing him through it with soft sounds. 
When you both caught your breath, you were both messy, hair everywhere, uniform askew, sweat dotting your brows. But the bowl of cookie mix had fallen to the floor without you noticing, a sludge across the tiles along with a dropped bag of flour. The radio was still playing, there was a spatula and three whisks on the ground and the worktop you were sitting on had made a crack in the tiles behind you. 
You laughed first, a soft, breathy thing that Eddie joined in on, smothering his joy with a kiss to your cheek, a happy, smacking thing against your skin that made you feel warm all over. 
“Need’t clean you up,” Eddie murmured sweetly. “Then this place, Jesus.”
You hummed, too lazy, too relaxed to talk. So you let Eddie swipe at your thighs with a dish towel he then shoved at the bottom of the bin, grinning the whole time. You helped him sweep up the mess with shaky legs, mourning the loss of your cookies as he laughed, eyes brighter than they should’ve been for the late night hour. 
And when you were perched on your stool at his station, sharing a plate of fries, Eddie reached out to brush away a crumb from your lip and said:
“I guess I should’ve asked you, huh?” He squinted at you, cheeks flushed, a little embarrassed. “So, uh, not too sound like we’re in middle school or anything, but you wanna do this properly? Be my girlfriend? God, I sound like a dumba—”
You cut him off with a laugh, a happy, bright thing and nodded, stealing his insult with a kiss as you nodded, murmuring yes against his lips. 
2K notes · View notes
tinydeskwriter · 7 months
Text
Lando NorrisxWolff!reader
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words: 2825
requested: no
A/n: This is going to be a multi-chapters, most of the chapters won't be social midia or something. It is going to 'follow' the 2023 F1 season. Reader is Toto's eldest child by a fictitious ex- first wife. I just watched Break Point, with is another sport Netflix docuseries from the same producing company that makes DST, and since then I have this idea of a prodigy tennis player reader.
next part»
GQ 10 things Y/n Wolff can’t live without
“Hi GQ, I am Y/n Wolff and here are my essentials.” The young woman opens her arms looking at the objects displayed on the table, before looking up and smiling to the camera.
# Sugar
“My trainer may not agree. My coaches may not agree. My performance coach may not agree. My parents definitely don’t agree.” She points out, “But I need sugar.” The young woman brings to the centre of the table a small pile of sweets, a tall cup of caffeinated drink and a can of Red Bull, “I live of sugar and… sugary things…”
“My day starts with this lovely peppermint iced mocha sweetened with vanilla sugar… a ton of vanilla sugar.” Y/n laughs taking a sip of her drink “I am weirdly obsessed with mint and chocolate combinations…” She comments looking at the camera, “I drink perhaps two or three of those per day,” The young woman then places her hand over the top of the Red Bull can, most people who follow her already know that she is an athlete sponsored by Red Bull, “sugar-free Red Bull, which ironically is sweeter than the regular one.” She puts her hand on the pile of chocolates, “Milk-chocolate, I am not going to lie and say that I eat the healthy stuff, I don’t, I have the taste buds of a child,” the tennis player smiles mischievously at the camera, “right now I am really into this Finnish chocolate, Geisha and the blue Fazer, daddy always keep those in his offices for me.” She wrinkles her nose a little, giving the camera a lovely—childish—smile.
“Aero Mint bar, Chocolate Orange, Maltesers, Bounty, Kinder, truffles…I'm honestly starting to wonder how we managed to get through customs.” She laughs looking at her entourage behind the cameras. “This is like… a fraction of what I usually travel with, this is more like what I have in my bag for the day.”
#Photos
Y/n played a little with a golden square object in her hand.
“I travel a lot, I am on the road from January to November playing at tournaments around the world, so I can’t always be surrounded or in touch with the people that I love,” she says in a slightly more serious tone, taking the golden case in her hands and pressing the button to open, showing pile of polaroid photos, “those are mini Polaroids, so I can bring them with me wherever I go, I keep them inside this vintage cigarette case that belonged to my maternal grandmother, she was a absolute rockstar and I miss her very much.”  The camera takes a close-up on the golden case with rope motif and small colourful stones. “As I don’t smoke, I had to find another use for it.”
The first photo she shows is five adults together, smiling around a table, in what appears to be a ski resort.
“I have a very patchwork family, and somehow the adults in my life made it work…which I am very grateful for, not everyone is lucky to have so many amazing parents…so here I have my mum and my two other mothers, Stephanie and Susie, papa and my other father, Phillippe,” the second photo is her with a boy not much younger than her, two teenage girls and a small child in front of a Christmas tree, “my siblings, I have four, I am the eldest whatever way you go, huge flex,” the photo is followed by one of a pyjama party with several girls in matching pyjamas, and another of the tennis player with a blonde in front of the Eiffel Tower, “My gurls! This is my best friend, she is also my PA… so amazing to have someone I trust so much with me all the time…” a golden cocker spaniel with a crystal necklace, silk bows in its ears and a Gucci sweater appears on the screen, “this is Éclair Wolff, my emotional support dog aka my child, she actually goes with me mostly everywhere, but sometimes I leave her with my mum so she won’t be stressed by the long flights.”
She points to the next three photos, the first has the Mercedes drivers in Tommy Hilfinger, posing for the photo. “Lew and Georgie, the adopted older brothers I never asked for, but I love them.” The second photo has three other familiar faces making faces at the camera, “C2, my Ferrari boys, feat Pear, there is something wholesome about good looking men looking so silly, I love those guys and I love this picture, it is very on brand with them.”  The tennis player smiles at the camera. “Sharls, Carlitos and Pear are three of the nicest guys I have ever met, it is truly a blessing be able to call them friends and having them in my life.”
McLaren driver Lando Norris, in his third or fourth season, apparently not even realizing he was having his photo taken, it's a spontaneous photo, the soft sunlight highlighting the driver's profile as he smiles.
“Because of karting, I’ve known Lando since I was a head taller than him, he was my first crush…he was so shy, so adorable, so babygirl coded.” Y/n blushed a little as she shows the photo.
“I think most of the current grid is in here…oh, look, it’s Lance! Friends from life, from tennis…” She quickly changes showing another photo. “I think I easily have about sixty photos here..."
#Camera
“I don’t have a specific camera I like more than the others, but as a rule, I prefer vintage cameras just for the beauty of the final result, I inherited a few, I bought a few, I usually develop the photos when I'm at home for longer periods of time, edit the videos, digitalize a few…” She points to the cameras in front of her, a Bolex, a Digital Bolex, a very iconic Rolleiflex and a Super 8, “It is a very nostalgic experience to just go through a year worth of memories…” She says resting her face in her hand, “I have a hundred boxes with pictures and film rolls.”
“I love going through old pictures with my mom and Cass, my younger sister, from when we were babies, my parents in the 90’s, my mom when she was young, the wonderful life my grandparents lived, and is such a lovely moment to share with my mom.” Y/n has a soft smile on her lips. “One day, when I have my own kids, I want to have those moments with them, and not just scrolling through a phone or an iPad.”
#Journals
“I keep journals since I was a child, I get a new one every year,” She holds up the leather hardcover notebook, a deep indigo blue, a little worn around the edges, “after I turned thirteen years old, I started to get it in this specific shade of blue, with my initials in gold,” The girl opens the journal, leafing through it briefly, “I am never going to write an auto-biography, it’s kind of a little bit too egocentric to my taste,” She knocks it closed, but keeps it up, looking at the camera as she speaks , “but if someone ever write about me, fifty years from now… the facts will be straight, at least from my point of view… but even if no one ever writes about me… when I am old and grey and memory starts to fail me, I will be able to come back to the thoughts of twenty years old me…”
There is a moment of silence.
“That was kind of dark.” Y/n laughs to break the tension.
#Art Supplies
“I love to draw and paint, it eases the anxieties of life,” The tennis player shows the large sketchbook, a small aluminium case with the watercolours, and the rolling leather case with pencils and brushes, “I always bring a watercolour travel kit with my sketchbook wherever I go.”
She displays for the internet some of the landscapes she painted during her travels around the world.
#Hoodies
“I like to be comfortable after a match,” she spreads her arms across the perfectly folded hoodies on the table, “and nothing is more comfortable than a hoodie, feels a little bit like home.”
“I have my collection of hoodies with Adidas, they always provide me with new cool colours to try out and see if I want to add to the next collection,” Y/n opens sage green hoodie, running her hand over her initials and the Adidas logo. “Enchanté by Dani Ric, I have a bunch of those, Daniel is always kind enough to drop them at my house in Monaco, VIP treatment baby.” She points to the white hoodie. “Quadrant hoodies, Lando’s merch, ridiculously comfy, I would really like them in pastel colours or dusty rose… just putting out to the universe…” Y/n smiles and winks at the camera. “Valtteri, MV1… those all came with me for the US Open.”
#Skincare
“This is part of my daily routine.” The girl opens the toiletry bag, taking out the products inside, “I am always in different countries and different hotel rooms, so is nice to have this little sense of routine.”
She lines the pearlescent bottles with opaque round lids on top of the table.
“I launched Muse when I was seventeen years old, it is my skincare brand, and it is very me. I wanted it to be un-complicated and complete,” The young woman explains passionately looking at the camera, “skin is the body’s largest organ, and it is not only your face.” It affects the hair on your face, tucking it behind your ear before going back to the product bottles. “The line goes from body wash to suncream to night-time routine.”  
#Travel Pillow
“If I mess up my neck and shoulder, I am f***ed, my match is over and possibly the tournament.” She holds up a medium-sized pillow to the camera, the pillowcase light pink silk with red buttonholes around the edges and her initials in the corner. “So, this baby goes with me everywhere, it is a memory foam pillow with a silk pillowcase. Best sleep, best hair.”
#Sport Gear
“I generalized here, sport gear, I travel heavy, always,” she points to the array of equipment on the table, “this is my racket, I go to each tournament with around ten of those, just in case I wreak one on the ground,” Y/n passes her hand over the racket, “those are custom Yonex Ezone 98, they made it in Mountbatten pink with some cool pattern and my initials,” she smiles as she pulls the helmet close to her chest, “my helmet, also custom Mountbatten pink, with my initials in rose, I love to try new karting tracks, most people don’t know I used to race karts when I was younger, won a couple of trophies, went as far as F3 before I choose to go pro with tennis, car racing is a huge thing in my family…my dad used to race, my stepmom was a driver, my little brother probably going to be a F1 driver,” she recounts with a smile, “I joked once with my dad that we are at a window that if I have a kid in the next year or two, in twenty years we can have a Wolff’s drivers line-up for Mercedes.” The young woman smirks to the camera. “My dad almost passed out, and now I am not allowed to date until I am thirty.”
#Headphones
“Those are custom made for me, again, they are Mountbatten pink and rose with my logo, super comfortable on the ears, I usually have problems with headphones due to the piercings and earrings, but these didn't give me any problems, they fit well, and I can spend the whole day wearing them." She takes the gadget out of the case, showing the details. “It's not wireless, because I always forget to charge it, so it has a wire, they made this lovely, thick cord that is durable and super resistant,” Y/n wraps the rope around her fingers, “it is noise cancelling and it is always with me before every match as an essential part of my pre-match rituals.”
“The right music kind of puts you in the right mood, I usually go with Eminem in 80% of my matches, I feel like it unleashes my inner fighter, these are matches where I'm not really worried about my opponent, it is just raw and a little bit thoughtless, I just play,” she comments, “when I know that my opponent is going to be hard on the mind games, which is not an uncommon move in tennis, I tend to listen to calmer and more melancholic music, piano, it keeps me in a more peaceful zone, I don’t get pumped up and full of adrenaline, my game tends to be far more calculated…”
 #
“That’s it. Those were my ten essentials,” the young woman smiles, “thank you, GQ, for allowing me to share my essentials, much appreciated, and thank you guys for taking the time to watch it! Much love and see you next time!” The athlete says, blowing a kiss and winking to the camera as the credits shows up.
__________________________________________
2,109,963 views   Aug 29, 2022
978 Comments
 userone
i was todays yrs old when i found out that tennis superstar Y/n Wolff is the eldest child of THE Toto Wolff
            user1
            From what little she talks about her dad here, u just get the vibes that Merce boss Toto is a softie girl dad, he keeps her favourite candy in his offices and forbids her to date until she’s thirty, this is so sweet
haterone
a billionaire’s nepo baby, talking about her millionaire friends and her unrelatable lifestyle and things
usertwo
Y/n’s hair is probably the healthiest hair i ever seen i need her hair routine
userthree
I am so obsessed with her career! I want to see her continue to succeed and be one of the biggest tennis players of all times. She deserves it. Such a talented, humble kid.
userfour
i loved hearing her talk about her family and friends!!! it is so crazy that she is close friends with a bunch of F1 drivers.
            hatertwo
            Not so crazy since she’s literally a f1 nepo baby, her daddy is part owner of Mercedes.
userfive
She's like that one super popular chick in school who's actually a total sweetheart.
usersix
I totally relate to her being a sweet tooth
@userseven
I love that she was not talking to the camera. She was actually talking to the people there behind the scenes
usereight
i love how a lot of these items are usually a stereotype of being pretentious—a vintage cartier cigarette case, a film camera, a leather bound custom hermes journal, art supplies--but she talks about all of them with such genuine interest and attachment that it doesnt seem pretentious at all
usereighteen
U r the one name dropping the brands she uses…
usernine
Her nicknames for Charles Leclerc, Carlos Sainz Jr and Pierre Gasly… I died dead…
            user9
            The fact that she’s gushing about lando and being so sweet about her childhood crush on him oml
            user10
            Omg it is so cuuute!!! Like, she had a crush on little Lando and not McLaren glow up Lando Norris
            user11
            I used to be so conflicted shipping her with the drivers, because she dates that tennis player, but her insta has a bunch of her and Charles and her and Pierre and her and Lance and it is so cute and kind of gives such soft vibes, those boys look half in love with her in most pictures, also ...the chemistry. but seeing the way she talks about Lando… they r my new diehard ship…
userten  
Are we going to ignore that she confessed that Lando Norizz was her first crush???
            user1
            They would be so cute together… and they ate both single now… at the same time… we can dream…
            user12
            i went ten steps further and in my head, they are already getting married and having cute future Mercedes world drivers’ champions…
user13
 Can we already dream of Lando at Mercedes???
usereleven
Ok… but didn’t Lando once commented like, very briefly, in a McLaren video, that he used to have a crush on a girl that used to go karting with him??? The girl who wore red ribbons in her hair… do you guys know who uses red ribbons in heir hair since she was an actual baby?? Y/n! There is a pic in her insta of her in a karting track with her dad, and she has red bows in her hair…
            user11
            Not gonna lie… It would be kinda of cute if they actually had a mutual childhood crush and then eventually end up together as adults…
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hwaightme · 7 months
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Both
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THIS IS 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI FOR STAR’S SAKE (nsfw tags under the cut)(masterlist) (taglist)
❤️‍🔥 pairing: husband!seonghwa x gn!afab!reader ❤️‍🔥 genre: smut, fluff, pwp, established long-term relationship ❤️‍🔥 summary: all work and no play makes seonghwa a needy boy; your husband wants you. now. and he will use any means necessary to get you where he wants you. being in the office is not a problem when you are one message away... ❤️‍🔥 wordcount: 8.6k total ❤️‍🔥 warnings/tags: semi-edited, hwa duality, businessperson!reader, mention of offices/presentations/corporate culture, nonidol!hwa, married but permanently in honeymoon phase, two people very in love, petnames, mutual respect, trust and adoration, seonghwa is smitten, reader wears heels, words crazy+drunk used ❤️‍🔥 taglist: at the bottom of the fic ❤️‍🔥 a/n: spiralled into ponderings with @byuntrash101 (ily), and my fingers slipped. oops. any notes, asks, reblogs appreciated <3 much love!
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❤️‍🔥 taglist: sexting, praise, petnames (love, darling, my love, pretty, gorgeous...), consent is king, unprotected sex (consider before you deliver), mating press/missionary (vanilla but make it spicy), 69 (blowjob+eating out), creampie, cumeating, slight spit kink, sprinklings of body worship, possessive terms (my/mine), light overstimulation, implied aftercare
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“How do I look?” you called out to your husband, who was sitting behind you on your shared bed, feline in the way he was leaning back on his arms, regarding you through half-shut, curious eyes. 
Unlike you, he had the day free, but even so decided to go through the motions of a morning routine with you, though finalising it with a considerably less formal outfit. Dressed in a black sweater and matching black trousers, Seonghwa had stated that he was going to go out to get some fresh produce from the market while it was still early, and the rush of crowds did not plague the city just yet. Patiently, he was waiting for you to be ready to head out to work, and he, to comfortably support the home front for today. 
“Hm, you look like me having to come to work with you and me having a blast telling waves of potential suitors that you are off limits.” He responded as a matter of factly. Nevertheless, you caught a cheeky grin in the mirror as he scanned you up and down with the intensity of a burning sun.
“Oh … Hwa, what if I want the attention? And what are you going to do about the stakeholders I’ll be speaking to, hm?” You asked him coyly, finally managing to get your second earring on and tapping it with your manicured finger for good measure.
“Something tells me that I’ll have to step in and act like security.” 
You chuckled, taken aback, pleasantly lightheaded because of Seonghwa’s early morning flirtations. With one final once over, he smoothed the bed sheets on either side of him and rose up to step right behind you, placing both hands under your suit jacket and on your waist, leaning closer and closer until he could place a soft kiss on the side of your neck which, thanks to your hairstyle, was exposed to the attention. 
The sleek, deep navy suit was an elegant number, peaked lapels on the single-breasted jacket perfectly pressed, the wide-legged trousers perfectly guiding towards the heels - pumps in a nude beige, and the white asymmetrical short-sleeved shirt underneath all combining to create perfect harmony. You had chosen elegance over daring energetic appeal today, picking pearl-based jewellery which, upon inspection, was exactly how you had imagined it would be with the outfit. A delicate balance was struck, and was reminiscent of how your husband was gingerly manoeuvring over and around you, until he appeared to have had enough with stalling.
Seonghwa’s arms lazily slid forwards, wrapping a little tighter around you, while his head moved to nudge you towards himself with his chin, until he could rest his head on your shoulder comfortably. Initially wishing to pry yourself away given how little time you had left if you were to make it to the office at a reasonable time, your hands rushed to his own, but as your husband began to sway side to side, blissfully taking in the image in the mirror, you left them there, admiring the priceless scene, and the way in which his hands fit perfectly over yours, the rings matching, another sign of your union completing the masterpiece in the reflection.
"Come on, Hwa, I’ll be late at this rate."
"What's it got to do with me, ma'am? I finished getting dressed fifteen minutes ago, was sitting here, all good and ready for you-" ignoring the word choice, you persisted:
"Because a certain someone was hogging the shower-"
"I told you, you could join." heat flushed to your cheeks as you caught Seonghwa’s less than innocent expression, making you remember exactly why you were not planning to get into any intimate shared space with this alluring schemer before work. Planting a feather-light kiss on your sensitive skin, he was threatening to make you lose track of time entirely. Attempting to wipe the action from immediate perception, you focused on the sensation of tugging on one of your earrings, anything to ground you and to return you into the headspace of the meetings you had scheduled and been booked into for the day, along with the details and key takeaways for each one. 
You had always been a fighter in the professional world, and this was one of the many things that Seonghwa adored about you. Having met at a networking event, that was the side of you he had come to be acquainted with first, and had fallen head over heels for. A sublime intensity that came with the passion you had for your work, a fire that ignited when you planned ahead, led teams and managed international ventures were so beautifully contained within you and formulated the intricate maze of your psyche that Seonghwa could not help but want to drown in it, and spend eternity observing you in action. He himself had stepped away from the strict and rigorous structures of the corporate world, instead preferring to offer independent consultation services, but to see you flourish, and to be there for your journey and to have you unconditionally support his decisions and experiments too was nothing short of a blessing. Perhaps the one side effect, a tiny challenge that came with having you as his life partner, his love and his spouse is mornings like this, when you were in the process of escaping for work, driven and ready for battle, your armour being one of the stylish suits of impeccable quality that you took great pains to keep pristine. And the more you did so, the stronger was his desire to see if he could ruin just one, at least one, perhaps the one you were wearing right now. Despite the fact that he had seen you in such garments more times than either of you could possibly count or remember, it made him more drawn to you and involuntarily seduced than he would ever dare admit. Seonghwa’s grip on your hips inadvertently tightened as gaze flashed upwards, settling on the reflection of your perfectly plump, tinted lips in the mirror. 
“Besides… As you know, I was making sure that the adjustments were all fine and the overall outfit would be fine for the quarterly review meeting,” you recalled your last-minute concerns over whether the selection was reasonable for meeting persons from the executive office, even though you were not sure if you even had outfits in your job-related arsenal that would not be appropriate, “You could have helped by the way.”
"I did! I gave the fit the Seonghwa seal of approval, but now... honestly am regretting it because you look illegal..."
He turned his attention back to the delicate skin around your neck, planting a couple more kisses with mischief glowing in his eyes. You giggled as his breath left a ticklish sensation and you nearly knocked your head with his in an attempt to shy away.
"And how do you think I feel, leaving you at home like this?”, you let your gaze settle on your husband, a ghost of a smirk revealing itself on your lips, “I need to brush up on my cat fighting techniques, mister handsome, and maybe learn how to teleport" Put him in a rag and he would still look spectacular. Like this, in a relaxed, casual outfit that ideally matched his dark locks, highlighted the broadness of his shoulders and the jawline models would be jealous of, he was heavenly - something which you never failed to remind him of no matter what he was wearing. It was almost a shame that you had to leave for work instead of admiring this beauty for the entire day and an eternity more. You bit the inside of your cheek, banishing less than safe for work ponderings from your mind.
"Woah, Y/N, fighting for me? That's kind of - I do not think I should say what I am thinking."
"You’re being awfully cheeky this morning!" You lightly slapped the back of his hand and spun around, coming closer until only a mere couple of centimetres separated you. "What else can a kitty do with her claws?"
"I mean... my back has no complaints." He speedily responded, tightening his hold on your waist and attempting to capture your lips with his. But at this point, you had gotten good enough at reading Seonghwa to move away at the last second, resulting in a loud smooch right against your jawbone, followed by a purposefully childish whine, "Oh darling you are being a tease."
"Naugh- ty- Seonghwa, no kisses. I took too long to line my cupid's bow. I'm not about to let you ruin it." 
You tried to wiggle away, wondering if your suit was actually creaseproof as the assistant at the boutique had advertised, but he was having none of it, now grabbing your hands and swinging them side to side. With his prior seductive aura having subsided after your decisive, playful rejection, Seonghwa’s glances were in many ways boyish, permission-seeking. The most miniscule hint of a pout made its way to his lips as he peered what had to be directly into your heart and intertwined your fingers together, stopping the motion.
“Y/N…”
“Keep this thought in mind, lovely, will you be able to?” you purred, amused at your husband’s slow blinking, reminiscent of an affectionate cat.
“Of course,” you dodged another attempt by him to nuzzle into your neck with a soft, melodic laugh, and pulled Seonghwa to follow you out of the bedroom, “Ah, careful,” he rushed to block the door frame, chuckling at your eagerness to get to the hustle and bustle of your day, even though just a little while ago you still were retaining that light nervousness, likely overthinking every interaction that was not even likely to happen. After all, this was a job only you could do, and it was something that you did better than anyone else. You owned what you did, and everyone knew it.
As you grabbed your keys, and were about to bid farewell to your husband before starting your commute, you sensed his energy shifting to that of scheming. 
Seonghwa had a trial to face, and it presented itself with how stunning you looked in the glimmering golden light of the early morning, and how your every step almost sent a shiver up his spine. Wherever you were, he always managed to find you in one sweeping gaze, whether you were on the other side of a room or a few steps away. One of a kind, captivating, the world turned around you whether you would agree with Seonghwa or not. It was a simple fact. And here, in your apartment, where it was just you and him, it was impossible to ignore how his vision was occupied by you, and only you. He was consumed by the effortless charm you radiated, and when you caught him staring, how you lifted one shoulder and responded with a cheeky grin - a gesture of faux coyness. He clenched a hand hidden behind his back into a tight fist until his knuckles turned white, mutely regarding your final preparations before you would disappear behind the door. His thoughts were far away from what he had planned to do today, cursing how you had teased him and blaming routines - your husband would have preferred to take you and himself apart right here right now, unravel the tension that was so obvious he could almost taste it. He bit his lower lip as you leaned down to shift your footing in one of your heels, and barely suppressed a hiss as you glided back up, the pace of the motion highlighting how your curves were complemented by the suit. You were enticing, and watching your back Seonghwa could not help but remember the sensation of running his hand across it, caressing your body, guiding it as you turned into a goddess in the dimmed lights of your shared bedroom, connected with him in every way possible. You smiled at him as though you were not aware of the lustful darkness that began to consume his mind, lips tantalising, dangerous, his favourite heavenly nectar. This was unbearable.
It was impossible to ignore the searing gaze that seemed to have never left you since you had first returned it in the mirror, and was the last thing you experienced as you shut the front door. You kept the radio in your car silent, afraid that your thoughts would be louder than the music either way. Your husband was up to something, determined, and focused on you. And it was beyond exciting. This undercurrent of energy that was eternal, and ran through anything and everything he did was one of the multitude of reasons why you loved him. He was enigmatic, and yet so easy for you to explore. He had opened himself up to you so readily, revealing the edges of his vibrant soul that was so unparalleled and high octane that you swore that after meeting him, you ceased to breathe oxygen and could only ever inhale the adoration he provided. He was a dreamer, an ideator, a man devoted to the search for happiness, and that balanced you out so perfectly - it had only been a month when you had decided for yourself that Seonghwa was the one for you, and you would never let go. He was an eternal surprise, an enigma that was as soft and lovely as a cat, but wrapping itself around you like a serpent, slow and sensual. You wondered, as the day commenced and you were pulled into your first meeting, then another, just what your husband had crafted in his beautiful mind palace.
It did not take too long for the plan to reveal itself. Fortunately, because you did not enjoy facing unknowns. Unfortunately, it was in the middle of a meeting with some rather senior people. On the brighter side, you had proposed a five minute break before continuing the session so you had at least a couple of breaths to re-compose yourself, but other than that… it was only you, the phone that you were squeezing so hard in your hand that it could break, and the daring photograph blaring on the screen, setting you on fire. You had exchanged a couple of messages with Seonghwa prior to the meeting, his responses being cryptic and dizzyingly abstract, but nothing could have prepared you for the surprise.
Your other hand quickly found your thigh, gripping onto it so that you would not break your stoic disposition with a shaking leg, and you glanced side to side to make sure that the colleagues next to you had not returned to the room yet, and the others were preoccupied with their own devices or were deep in mundane conversation. So, this was what he was so enthusiastic about down following the morning antics. Clearly, you had not been passive enough for him to dismiss your glances in his direction - if you were to be honest, you had been eyeing him up and down from the moment he intentionally walked into you while changing, making you wonder how it was possible for you to want him more and more with each passing day, rather than feelings of attraction and enamourment subsiding with marriage and with sharing all the ups and downs. Instead, both of you were each other’s paradise, and that presented itself in all forms of desire. As you regarded Seonghwa’s form in the picture, lightly biting your lower lip as you tried to think of how you could respond to it, you could only be amused by how he knew exactly what buttons to press, and how to reignite what you had tried to pause earlier this morning - simply as an attempt to retain your sanity for handling paperwork and handshakes.
Resting on the chair that was in your bedroom, he made sure to accentuate his impeccable form, and how his long hair suited him so spectacularly. He had changed outfits - just for you, and that made you want to devour him all the more. Your precious husband who looked like sin. The vibrant beige jacket, which appeared almost brown in the sensually dimmed lamplight, hung freely over his upper body, revealing a tastefully bare abdomen, and consequently, the lovebites you had managed to leave above his heart and towards his collarbones after a particularly intense night a couple of days ago - they had only now begun to show signs of fading. Towards the very bottom of the picture you could spot the edge of a matching pair of trousers, black belt intentionally loosened to make your imagination run wild. A centrepiece, his black silver necklace and a perfectly paired earring, were the icing on top of the cake, their shimmer beckoning you. It was impossible to choose what to focus on; the head tilt, the elegant hand on which he was practically resting his head, how one leg had been thrown over the other - confident, in his element, so very Seonghwa that it made you hurt; and want him. Desperately. You shut your eyes and rolled them as you imagined the smirk on his face as he sent the image, knowing exactly what state he would pause you in, and hurl you into. When your husband was in the mood, it gave him an additional thrill to either catch you off-guard completely with bold advances and compliments, or fluster you until you were melting in his arms. And you did not mind one bit; that was your time to let go, to give up your stresses and iron grip and let all strains snap and become threads with which Seonghwa could pull at your very essence, praising you for how well you could follow his guidance, and just how perfect you were for him. You did not notice how your thumb was merely hovering over the keyboard until another message slid into view, and you barely suppressed a gasp, again looking up to make sure no one was watching you.
“Missing you, your taste, your everything, darling,”
This was the last straw, as you almost forgot what meeting you were in, where you were, how you were supposed to behave. You jolted upright, standing straight and excused yourself with a bow of the head, pointing at your phone - with the screen turned towards you. It was easy enough to get out, and storming down the corridor until you were out of everybody’s earshot, you pressed onto the call button, only to be met with a deep chuckle after a single ring. You could envision him still sitting on the chair, head tilted back to stare at the ceiling as he toyed with your passions, beckoning you to race home to him. He knew you couldn’t until the day was officially done, and that was part of the fun. It only meant that when you were to finally open that front door, you would be more than ready to give yourself up to his tender love and care.
“Park Seonghwa, what do you think you are doing?” you hissed, pressing the phone right against the side of your face as your foot tapped an abstract rhythm on the carpeted floor.
“What do I think? I think I am talking to you right now, what about you?” he replied, purposefully feigning obliviousness.
“Hwa, the photo… the damn message....”
“Oh! That… yeah, it’s nothing special, really, I just did not send you any in quite some time, so thought I could spark… something,” he paused, indulging in your shallow breathing before finishing the sentence.
“Well you sparked something alright. Seonghwa. Or should I say, my demon of a husband?” you raised an eyebrow as you were met with a silence on the end of the line, but not long after, a sweet, resonant hum of agreement.
“Mm, what a title. Is that how I am making you feel, precious? Are you missing a certain something too?”
Missing. What exactly did both of you imply the other was missing? The word was laden with ambiguity and promise, imagination running wild from the emphasis that Seonghwa had placed on it, lifting it onto a pedestal, above rationality and stability. Inhale, exhale - you counted your breaths, knowing that in a minute you had to be heading back to talk numbers, strategies, even though only your husband would be on your mind.
“I-... yes, damn it,” you mumbled, lashes fluttering as a shiver ran up your spine.
“Mhm, I see… Now, don’t be shy, tell me, what is it that you are missing, what do you feel?” if there had been any hope of you remaining focused on work for the rest of the day, it was most certainly wiped now. You were mesmerised, clinging onto Seonghwa’s voice as though it was your only salvation in the midst of a storm. Quickly, you were losing all sense of your surroundings, too focused on his breaths, his sigh when he was obviously displeased with having to wait for your answer, and finally, his subtle command:
“Don’t be shy, tell me what’s on your mind,” you could not bring yourself to even part your lips, eyes darting to what you could see through the blinds into the meeting room. Your senior colleagues were still lethargic, unfocused, scrolling away or engaging in idle chatter. Maybe it could be advantageous, but judging by the heat that began to rise over your body you would definitely struggle stringing words together with eloquent cohesiveness. Seonghwa. The devious man. Your favourite drug. Your worst and best addiction.
“Perhaps you might need a little… inspiration… yes?”
“I…”
“...wouldn’t mind having you right on my tongue, writhing, falling apart…”
“Park Seonghwa-”
“I want to taste you. Want to keep you close for a long…” he paused, indulging in your electric silence, “long time, warm my cock while keeping you in a tight embrace, kissing you until we cannot breathe… how does that sound?”
“G-good…” you struggled to mumble out, wondering why your knees were transforming into jelly. The coolness of the wall against which you decided to lean provided some illusion of support.
“Your turn,” his tone turned more commanding and that did not go unnoticed. You bit your lower lip, not caring if that was going to smudge your lipstick. Nothing mattered, “I didn’t spare any details,” he waited. You remained frozen in your own thoughts, thousands of desires darting around your mind, but none being brave enough to escape and reveal itself to your husband. Perhaps for the better:
“Please don’t make me beg,” he must have heard you stifle a sound that was far too inappropriate to ever be heard in the workplace - the airy laugh that you were met with over the line was downright sinful, and made you curse your job. You needed him. Needed the release he was so readily offering. 
“Or do you want me to pry your dirty little secrets out of you until you are the one begging?”
A shaky inhale, an equally shaky exhale. You uttered his name, in a low voice only he had ever heard. Simultaneously hostile and tantalising. He now knew that he had you hooked.
“Mm… fine. Please, my darling. Please, tell me all those precious filthy musings swimming around in that delightful brain of yours,” you clenched the phone tighter in your hand and crossed your legs. You knew you had no time, despite easily imagining the position that Seonghwa was in, where he was and how lost he was in a lascivious dreamland. Eyes glossed over, lips wetted with his own spit, tension building in his core which he refused to unwind. Without you, at least. With a sharp intake of cold air, you steadied yourself. You were not about to reward demands with treasures. 
“Now, what would be the fun in that?”
“Come on… Y/N, I-”
“Be good, and you might just find out.” you cut him off, offering a fake smile to a colleague who walked past you. You needed to come back. Immediately.
“So you will be heading back on time today, right?” he was daring you, but at the same time it was easy to notice the notes of desperation. Untouched, riled up, overwhelmed. Needy. Just how you loved him.
“Hm… I do have a couple of things I could do…” who were you kidding? You had already gone through the fastest route home in your mind.
“Is that refusal I am hearing?” you heard him shift in his seat, the image of him leaning forwards to put an elbow on his knee so vivid that it was as if he was before you. 
“Not at all, love, not… at all…” giving up due to your growing distraction, you let your husband have at least a little bit of hope. Clearly, the words worked wonders as with newfound vigour, Seonghwa bid you farewell.
“Then see you soon, Y/N darling.”
Soon could not come soon enough. You were glad no one could see your leg shaking under the table, and that you were well-practised in discreetly checking the time. Teasing, tugging you along to follow his game, striking you out of the blue and opening the door to the world that only you two shared. You would be lying if you said that you were thinking about anyone else while debating with an executive, or when you were brave enough to point out a blatant assumption that was used to support a projection earning yourself a few pointed questions. But nothing compared to the blaze that caressed your skin, spurred you on and made you feel alive. Your favourite deviant, seductive god, king of your heart and keeper of your soul, he gave you control just as much as he could take it away. Wiping away anxiety, he left anticipation. Erasing doubt, he left a blooming confidence.
And with that feeling and darkened gaze, you were racing against the clock, accompanied by the sound of your soles clicking against concrete, accelerating away from the skyscrapers that housed your professional victories and into winding tunnels. You mutely cursed at every delay and every pause in your commute, but nonetheless made it home in record time, astonished by the vista of the setting sun which you normally could not catch in the winter months.
---
The jingling of the keys alerted Seonghwa of your presence, and he set his phone screen down onto the kitchen table, turning to perch himself on the doorframe. He crossed his arms, a ghostly smile on his lips. Aside from going through the regular domestic chores he had planned for himself - a feat in his far from concentrated state, he had decided to be a little more forward with his demands, much to your shared excitement. This, of course, began with his appearance, or rather, a casual exposure of himself in a way you had always encouraged him to do, loving his body so genuinely that it translated into an unparalleled self-appreciation for him. At the same time, that meant that in moments just like this one, he could use your infatuation with his mind and his physique against you. All for a little bit of harmless fun.
He was right, as always. The moment you lifted your head and were about to announce your arrival, a breath hitched in your throat and words died on the tip of your tongue. Hair loose, bangs neatly falling to frame his face, and that damn jacket with a leopard print inner lining, casually thrown over his bare upper body, befitting him so well that you needed to give yourself some time before choking out a quick, feeble ‘I’m home’ and kicking off your heels. He grinned, outwardly innocent, pretending to ‘just be happy to see you, when in fact his imagination was already beginning to forgo every article of clothing you had on. Scanning your form, Seonghwa could not help but bite back a groan. Since the moment you had left this morning, he wanted you back because he wanted you. On the bed, on the table, on the counter, he did not care about the mess. In fact, if there was to be a mess, he would be all the more satisfied. His skin was burning worse than if he were to have a fever, and every moment that passed while you were going through the regular after work motions was pure torture. 
As you finished washing your hands, and were about to tiptoe past him, likely to set your bag aside in your home office, he stopped you with one, quiet utterance.
“I’ve been thinking about you all day…”
Your heart was pumping an unsteady, deafening rhythm, and your hands were on the verge of shaking. Nothing was stopping you from simply giving in… except maybe an inkling of rebellion that clung onto you. He already had you in his hold, mouldable to whatever form he wished for, but if he was to play the long game, so were you. 
“Mmm… don’t know about that. Missed the memo,” you huffed, wasting a little too much strength on forcing the phrases. Rushing past your husband, you headed to your office and pretended to be taken by both your bag and the miscellaneous stationery left on the desk. 
You heard Seonghwa stalking behind you loud and clear, hyperfocused on his catlike steps, but remained rooted to your spot. Taking every item out of your bag, painfully slow, you were rapidly succumbing to the vision of your husband taking you apart. Gorgeous tanned skin, which you knew he was purposefully flaunting to you, intoxicating plush lips which were so vivid in your mind you could almost taste them, and his skillful hands… which just so happened to now be hovering over your waist. You clenched your jaw when they found purchase on your hips, and almost guided you to stand up and be pressed right against him.
Heat was rolling off your stunning lover in waves, and it was downright unbearable to have your back be connected to his toned chest. Seonghwa had no plans of letting you go. He pulled you closer, until you could practically trace his half-hard cock with your ass. He sighed at the contact, air softly passing over your skin, and let his lips trace a broken line upwards to your ear.
“That won’t do at all…” he flexed his arms as his hands roamed your body, “Fortunately, I know exactly how to show you,” you completely blanked, “what a good husband you have.”
As he was about to toy with the buttons at the top of your shirt, the one on your jacket having been long undone, you sprung into action and stopped him, barely suppressing a smirk as you turned your head and spotted a dash of confusion in his glossy eyes.
“I do have a wonderful husband, indeed. Too bad he does not know how to behave properly,” using the moment you slipped out of his embrace, and sauntered towards the door. Seonghwa was left in shock, starved and needy, having been thinking about you, you and only you all day. But his composition returned just as rapidly as it had faltered. You slowed down before reaching the door, as if being pulled back. 
Seonghwa was, indeed, magnetic. Lithe, agile, he reminded you of a panther, slinking across the couple of metres that separated you. You were aching to rip off the beige two piece right where he stood, and involuntarily darted your tongue between your lips, much to your husband’s amusement. He was not quite as gentle this time, grabbing a hold of you until you were chest to chest and securing your position by pressing on your lower back. His breath tickled your face; your hands snaked under his jacket, running over exposed skin, worshipping every part you could both see and visualise. 
“Really, Hwa. So eager,” you mumbled, brushing your lips over his, testing the waters and seeing a lustful, desperate storm clouding his dilated pupils.
“Do you want me to stop?” he whispered against your cheek, leaving a tentative peck. You dared to glance at him, poking his nose with your own.
“You’re acting out… disrupting me at work… sending such dirty things to me… calling me to tell me how you want me… is this to be rewarded, my love?” a shudder rolled over Seonghwa’s body, resulting in him planting more feverish kisses over your face, moving towards your jawline and finally across to your ear, nipping it.
“How could I ever behave when I need you, and you are looking like this…” his fingers caressed the collar of your shirt, scalding hot, “and are wearing my favourite perfume…” he inhaled, as though he was drunk off your scent - it was nothing more than what had come to be your signature, a bouquet of notes that defined you, but soon enough turned to being another way in which you occupied Seonghwa’s senses. 
Both of you subconsciously moved towards the door, getting impatient. Fingertips mapped the hickeys with violently cautious touches, and Seonghwa swore that if he did not act now, he would go mad. It was ridiculous. You were his life partner, a person to whom he had committed with his entire being, and yet with every passing day his desire for you kept on growing and he was falling deeper and deeper in both love and lust. With you in his arms he was a man lost at sea, blanking out, spiralling and devoted to passion. A big difference between your time dating and your married life, however, was that he did not have to hold back on his own wishes anymore, being as explicit as he was comfortable with, knowing that you would do the same, and no matter what, pleasure would be mutual and adoring. And, he needed it. Seonghwa needed you now. His hand moved on its own accord to cup your face and guide it towards his own. Millimetres apart, he set you ablaze along with him.
“...please…” spilled out, a feeble plea. Seonghwa’s eyes were darting all around you, trying to get some kind of answer, permission, anything. You nodded. And the thread holding you two back snapped.
The kiss was messy, animalistic, far from the calm lover with whom you shared your daily life. Seonghwa did not give you a chance to breathe, instead pushing his lips against yours with the ferocity of a starved man. Unparalleled sweetness graced you as his tongue slipped inside, and he eagerly revisited the movements he found most entrancing, his occasional rough and low growls sending you into a frenzy. Your muted whine spurred him on, and he pushed your entangled forms out of the office, and into the bedroom, the door to which had been left open.
One nip, another, it was as if he wanted to mark you as his everywhere, teeth leaving a pleasant blend of satisfaction and a dull pain to spread from your lips and shoot straight to your core. You began to push off his jacket, a request which he readily accepted, leaving him constrained only by his bottoms. Seonghwa would not give you any false advantages, speedily tugging your jacket off you. His erection was pressing into your thigh, and you could not resist grinding against him, eliciting a delicious groan.
 Soon enough, your shirt and bra hastily joined your jacket on the floor, while Seonghwa spared no time in kneading one of your breasts, while feeling the air with the other in an attempt to reach the switch on the floor lamp, growling into the kiss when he missed the first couple of times and hand to open his eyes. You broke away from your husband, resting your palms on his abdomen and admiring just how pretty he looked in the warm, dimmed light that washed over the room in a flash. So it was that kind of night.
“...Want to see you…” he mumbled as he pressed his forehead against yours and locked your lips together once more, guiding you backwards towards the bed. When your legs hit its edge, he hooked his strong arm around you, a quick “careful,” escaping him.
“Let’s get this off, shall we?” gliding a finger on the inner side of the trouser waistband, he waited for you to comply. It did not take much time for you to get rid of the remaining clothes, and be left only with the full awareness of just how wet you really were.
You pressed your legs together, only for Seonghwa to inch his knee and push it in between, forcing them back apart. It was times like this when you realised that he really could read you better than you could read yourself, and any gesture, thought or fantasy, was his as much as your own.
“You’re so beautiful, no need to hide from me,” he scanned over your body, and you felt like you were on fire, melting into him. While your husband’s eyes were glazed over with lust, within them they still held so much love that your heart could burst. “Ah, wait a minute,” you watched as he removed his bottoms, and with a hiss, let his hard and leaking cock spring free. His low chuckle was music to your ears, “now we’re good.” 
“Mhm… oh Hwa… I really did make you wait…” you lowered your gaze to his cock, finger tracing a line down his stomach and stopping right before its base. He sucked in a shallow breath, nuzzling his face against yours to hide how close he was to being pushed completely over the edge. Patience was a virtue, and he barely had any left. “Let me take care of you, hm?” you suggested, trying to move to the side to gesture for Seonghwa to sit down on the bed. He remained still, and whispered against your cheek:
“No… I wanted to do that- ah-” your leg brushed against Seonghwa’s sensitive cockhead, pulling a gasp out of him.
“Then I have an idea, if you’re with me on this. Lie down for me?” pulling away, you switched where you were standing, and tilted your chin to gesture at the bed that was now in front of you. Seonghwa peered around his shoulder, and back at you, a soft, tiny smile, albeit a meek one, dancing on his lips.
“Baby you’re doing too-”
“Shush, we can make each other feel good,” promptly following Seonghwa, you were now hovering above him, playing with his necklace. 
“I love you,” he said breathlessly, making the side of your mouth curl into a half smile. 
“I love you too.”
“Now I’m craving something sweet,” you lightly slapped his chest and shook your head in an attempt to hide your amusement.
“Oh stop it…”
“I think I’ll go crazy if I don't have you sitting on my face in the next few seconds.”
“Can’t have that happening.”
You adjusted positions, and once you had your back facing Seonghwa, he pulled your hips towards him to lower your pussy over his face. Carefully, you leaned forward, relishing in the sight of your husband’s impossibly stunning body, every muscle a work of art. After finding a comfortable balance, and waiting for the initial shock of Seonghwa tasting you to turn into a continuous thrum of pleasure, you spat into your palm, and wrapped the hand around his cock. His thighs tensed in response and his grasp became tighter as he rolled his tongue over your clit.
Mirroring him, you teased his cockhead, and only then proceeded to take his length into your mouth, relaxing your jaw and moving slowly to ensure that he would not reflexively buck into you. You flattened your tongue, dragging it along the shaft and spreading spit and precum. You took him deeper until he hit the back of your throat. With hollowed cheeks you began to bob your head at a leisurely pace and not caring for the mess you were making at the base of his cock, clear liquid running down past the corners of your swollen lips.
Seonghwa produced a muffled noise, unable to stay completely focused while you were driving him towards his high, but not breaking contact. He sucked on your clit, making you whine while deepthroating him. Your eyes were starting to water as you wanted more, always more, and you reached to fondle his balls, pausing to get some air. Strings of saliva and precum momentarily connected you still, and the lewdness of the scene was downright pornographic. You were relentless, addicted to this man whom you had the exclusive ability to call your husband. You were the one who knew how to take him apart and put him back together. 
The wanton sounds of Seonghwa devouring your pussy stimulated you further, and the coil which had been growing tighter with every pass of his skillful tongue was ready to snap and release. A hint of a trembling sensation passed through your legs, and you sped up your own motions, your hand jerking off the base while you swirled over his tip in preparation to take him fully again. 
Seonghwa dipping his tongue between, in and out, and through your wet folds had you seeing stars, and you grinded against him. He gripped you tighter so that you would not be able to instinctively squirm and lift yourself upwards, and circled around your aroused clit, sucking it in between his lips and returning to fucking you with his tongue. His vision was clouded, he was in a daze, unable to process anything anymore, except the static fuzziness in his brain and how delicious you were.
He used up what little attention he had left on your clit, and repeated ministrations had you tipping over the edge and shuddering in his hold. Seonghwa remained buried between your legs as your climax hit you, and held you to prevent your hips from leaving him, and continued to lap at your sopping heat, catching your release. You moaned against his cock, freezing in place and letting your husband chase his high by bucking his hips upwards and using you. In no time, he was painting your mouth and your throat with thick strings of white, falling back onto the bed while you followed to try and swallow as much of his release as you could. Cum and spit was dribbling down your chin and his shaft when you were finished, and once you, with Seonghwa’s help, were laying on your side and face to face with him the unmistakable glistening fluid on his face made you love him all the more. One kiss, another, you tasted yourselves on each other’s lips, choosing to make your lungs scream rather than let go.
He was so beautiful. His loving, electric gaze - a permanent feature of his expression when it came to you. Everything about him was a reason to adore him. You brushed away a strand of hair, one which had stubbornly stuck to his forehead, only for Seonghwa to take your hand in his and plant a soft kiss on its back. You giggled, enjoying the contrast of this intimate, but lighthearted moment as opposed to the passionate exchange earlier. This was how he was, and you would not want him any different. 
You took your time regarding him, and he did the same to you. Blissful, overflowing with a want for more. His lips were on yours again, and you deepened the kiss by bunching his long inky hair in your hand. Every reaction, every gasp was your favourite music. Seonghwa rolled over and positioned himself between your legs, arms on either side. Hair perfectly framed his elegant features, and the shadows cast shapes akin to a painting you would see at a gallery. He was a masterpiece. 
“Lift your hips for me,” you followed his request, wriggling into position while he lifted himself up to take your legs and bend them towards your torso, “thank you, my love… such a pretty pussy, all mine,” the dirty talk came naturally to him, and it was not your first time hearing it, but nonetheless had you biting the inside of your cheek.
Still sensitive, you whispered his name when he glided his hardened cock between your wet folds. Coated in slick and cream, Seonghwa met no resistance and bottomed out in one stroke. Your loud moan prompted words of praise and adoration, and he was certain that nothing could ever be better than this. 
“Ah- just perfect-” you watched his face contort , eyes threatening to roll back as he started to thrust into you. 
You could barely form words, sinking into the pillows and peeking at Seonghwa through half-lidded eyes - the most you could muster. All your senses were filled with him, and you swore you were going to fall apart at any moment. Grateful for his arms supporting your legs, you physically couldn’t resist the drowning pleasure, instead trying your best to keep up with his cock drilling into you, failing whenever it brushed over your sweet spot.
“H-hwa-”
“Mm?”
“Kiss me,” you pleaded, making him push your legs further apart and crawl a little ways over you until his orbs, near black in the dimly lit room, were boring into you.
You intertwined, overlapped, transposed into something greater than yourselves. Sharing the same air, you panted in time with your lover and captured his lips with yours over, and over again. His body was so close to yours, that you could feel his necklace brushing over your chest, occasionally touching your neck. Seonghwa filled you to the hilt, the slight stretch turning your moans into barely audible mewls.
“Please- h-harder- I l-love your cock so mu-uch-”
Seonghwa cursed under his breath, drunk from your choice of words, and with one final kiss curled over you and quickened the rocking of his hips to a brutal euphoria. You were on the verge of melting, bodies turning agonisingly hot with each passing second. Your hands searched for his wrists, weakly wrapping around them for some form of support. Carnal; you were infinitely turned on by how instinctive his reactions were. You could not care for anything in the world, words turning to a garbled mess and moans loudly echoing in your husband’s ears. 
“F-fuck, you feel so good I’m-” he was fisting the bedsheets, ruthlessly pounding into you, the slapping of skin against skin and your sounds making him fall apart. 
His pace faltered as he came, legs shuddering, voice breaking as he unleashed an airy and high-pitched moan, but he still continued to thrust while he filled you with his warm load. He pushed his release deeper inside you, breathing heavily and pressing you more and more into the bedsheets. The squelching was downright filthy, but you wanted to capture every drop and threw your arms around Seonghwa as much as you could given your position, simply so he could be flush against you. He hissed through gritted teeth as your walls began to clench around his aching length, prompting aftershocks from his orgasm.
“Hwa-a, I’m coming, I- don’t stop please-”
“Come for me, love,” his gentleness, even in such a feverish moment, was your undoing. The thread you had been clinging onto snapped.
Your head fell back against the pillows, and if it wasn’t for Seonghwa’s form securing you from above, you knew you would be arching off the bed, uncontrollable. You called out his name like a mantra, and in your ecstatic haze could sense him slowing down, helping both of you ride out your intense climaxes. Vision spinning, you did not dare move, instead transforming into a pliable doll for Seonghwa to rearrange. Shakily, he let go of the bed sheets and sat upright, tapping your legs to relax. Lazily, you stretched out, heart still racing, and barely registered the dip of the mattress next to you. 
When you turned, your husband was there, head resting on his hand, propped up by his elbow. He was studying you with a small smile, and when he noticed you were more present, leaned in to give you a quick kiss on the cheek.
“Hello,” it was almost unbelievable, just how honey sweet he could be in a matter of seconds, making you more shy than during sex. This made you all too aware and critical of your current state, and you turned your head to search for something to cover yourself with, until you heard a sigh escape your husband, “It’s like I’m dreaming. You’re so enchanting.”
He fell fully by your side, draping an arm over your upper body and gingerly massaging your hip. It was rare for him to not rush to clean both of you off, but you were not complaining about this kind of moment of closeness. It felt raw. It felt real. You got to fall in love for the nth time. Seonghwa’s face was rosy, blushed, and he was just barely steadying himself, but even then, was not letting go of you, choosing to retain all physical proximity in favour of going about routines. HIs cum is smeared over your folds, was dripping onto the covers and had smeared across your inner thighs, you had remnants of spit and release on your face, and yet he was still looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky. His one and only. 
“Not too sore? Shall I run a bath?” He poked your nose with his own, grinning when you ran a hand over the side of his face.
“Mm… I’m fine. But a bath would be nice. Can we…”
“Want me to join?”
“Mhm. Want you to give me a head massage.”
“Ah, of course, at your service-”
“Come on…” you chuckled at his joke and trailed off, pausing to stare deep into his eyes, musing everything and nothing all at once.
“A penny for your thoughts?”
“Just thinking how you should send me pictures more often,” a hint of darkness flashed in his eyes; mischief, future schemes formulating themselves. You traced past love bites, ran a finger over his plump lips which were equally as red and swollen as yours, you bet. 
“Mm, you changed your mind I see. None of that ‘I am at work’ anymore, then?”
“Maybe you should be the one who is worried now,” you shot back with a smirk.
Seonghwa sat up, swinging his legs over to the edge of the bed, but turning back to give you one last adoring look before launching into a routine long-familiar to you. In no time, you would be taking careful sips of water while waiting for the bath to fill, and your husband would be telling you to stay put, having returned from the clouds and back to finding it unbearable to have clothes on the floor and creasing. Your heart swelled. He was everything at once, flipping switches, changing from one second to the next while still being his gorgeous self. Before, it had made you confused, flustered. Now, you just loved him. There was no other way to put it. You got to see every curve and edge, and always discovered something new. 
“I’ll be impatiently waiting.”
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aunt-bridget · 2 months
Text
Night In With Aunt Bridget
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It was a pleasant evening with Aunt Bridget. A few drinks with her favourite nephew and an opportunity to relax for the weekend. They laughed and joked and she sat, crossing those long, booted legs…..something that her nephew was paying close attention to.
The nephew adored his Aunt. She was the younger and glamorous sister of his frumpy, strict mother. Her dress sense was sexy and very appealing to a young man. He stirred uneasily as Aunt Bridget once again crossed her legs. She noticed his discomfort as she sipped her wine…..he in turn took a massive gulp of his drink as she asked him what the matter was.
He blurted it all out. The sissy fantasy he harboured since being a teen. The desire to wear lovely clothes, be made up and to shamefully be forced into sissy bondage and whoring. Too much drink had loosened the boy’s tongue and Aunt Bridget nodded sympathetically. You see, she knew all about his little habits. Many previous visits resulted in her panty drawer being disturbed, her shoe collection had also been touched. Her special dress up box was left open, with her range of wigs obviously taken out. Aunt Bridget loved to play all manner of games with her gentlemen friends and her wardrobe reflected those fancies.
With the nephew looking slightly dazed at how he confessed so readily, Aunt Bridget rested a perfectly manicured hand on his knee and told him to come upstairs with her. They entered her bedroom and she flung the wardrobe door open along with her panty and nylon drawer. She commanded him to pick an outfit, some underwear, heels and a wig of choice. With a trembling hand, he selected a mustard yellow sweater, short black skirt, patent heels and dark shiny nylons. She ordered him to pull on the nylons first as she knew the feeling against him would be heaven, and she was right as he then put on the pink panties he knew so well, with the strawberry blonde wig finally placed on his head.
Aunt Bridget smiled and with some help, he had an impressive rack stuffed under the sweater to go along with the rest of the ensemble. The makeup was applied and little sissy nephew was seated in front of the dressing table mirror hypnotised by his reflection.
But things weren’t going to end there were they? The bondage fantasy was now the true elephant in the room…..and dearest Aunty revealed the box hidden at the bottom of the wardrobe. Nephew had always been very curious, but the container was always locked. Aunt Bridget went to her jewellery box and found the key, slipping it into the lock and lifting the lid. The box was a haven of bondage equipment….gags, cuffs, rope, bandage wrap and tape. There were other things in there that her innocent nephew wasn’t sure of, but they would be explained soon enough.
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The rope was expertly applied around his torso and legs. To nephew’s shame, his cock was bulging through the pink panties and Aunty hitched the skirt up to confirm her suspicions. She felt the offending lump and he had leaked a little through the nylons and panties. She tutted as she pulled her own panties off and balled them up. He opened his mouth without any prompting and she placed her warm, moist underwear behind his slutty red lips. The red bandage was wrapped tightly to seal the gag in place and he moaned softly, struggling against the ropes and trying to dry hump Aunty’s booted legs. Another tut was his reward as Aunt Bridget sat down on the bed and retrieved her phone.
She snapped a few pics of sissy nephew and told him that his fantasy would be a reality tonight. Aunty knew some friends who loved their games too….a charming couple who were very open minded. She made nephew watch as she sent the photos to her friends and the resulting replies. He whined at the thought of being seen like this and who knows what else. He stared down at his stiffening cock, betrayed by the thought of being a used sissy.
Aunty gently kissed his gagged mouth and produced a gleaming steel chastity cage. It seems she was more than used to dealing with these situations and she shushed the wretched slut as she called her sister. Apparently, sweet nephew will be staying over tonight.
So don’t wait up, Mother.
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kaciidubs · 27 days
Note
sooo....i have returned with more crazy shit 😋
i dunno if you read,write,or like tarophilia or whatever its called. its like monster sex basically or just fairlytale sex in general i think.
but anyway i wanted to ask for alien!jisung with human!fem!reader? like a ship crashed into the forest next to readers home in the forest so she went to check it out. when she looked it was an alien boy. brown curly hair with black glasses perched on their nose with a stripped sweater and black sweatpants. she felt bad for him because he was bleeding from his head. she took him in and helped his wounds. after waiting he woke up. they talked since he asked what happened and ended up being friends (kind of)
after months of being friends then best friends, they got together. they were happy and reader liked her alien boyfriend. and jisung liked his human girlfriend. a bit later into the relationship they realized they never had sex. just making out and grinding. no more than that. but one day jisung wanted to eat out reader. she let him of course and when the sweet taste of her cunt hits his tongue he lost it. he went tongue deep into her tight hole. purple tongue trying to find the source of the sweet treat. while reader whimpered and whined about it being too much and telling him to slow down. clenching hard around his tounge. after hours of being down there and reader once again whining about it being too much and no more, he says "jus' one more baby. ill stop after yeah?" before going back tongue deep into her with his pale purple tongue. (he ends up being down there for another hour :])
(p.s. if you dont like this type of stuff it’s totally fine! i was half asleep doing this so dont feel bad and do it anyway since its long :] if you couldnt tell i have a oral fixation ˙𐃷˙)
-🪼
My darling jellyfish nonnie, I love this thought so much - also, I'm 100% a monster fucker [as shown by my Naga! Minho spooktober fic, plus the fact that I'd go on all fours for Werewolf! Chris in a heartbeat] so Alien! Jisung is right up my alley!!
I don't even know how I could expand on this other than sharing more horny-ish thoughts about it; like the fact that not only is his tongue purple, but it's long and he seems to produce more saliva than necessary - since, you know, he's an alien and all.
How the first time reader found that she had more than platonic feelings for Alien! Jisung, was when he discovered the joy of cheesecake and whipped cream - the pure joy that illuminated his face after the first bite, followed by the ecstasy after he finished his piece and looked at her with round eyes that begged for more.
Perhaps their first kiss, how it came about after watching Howl's Moving Castle [or, rewatching it, in her case] - the credits hadn't been running for more than two seconds before Jisung's face came into view and his lips were on hers. It didn't last long, and it was obvious that he didn't fully understand the connotation behind kissing when you questioned his very sudden, but not unwelcome, move. "Happy!" He'd reply, as small, fluttering chirping noises emanated from him - a sound she'd grown familiar with to understand it was something that occurred when he was, indeed, happy.
And then, it was when those timid, innocent touches of a curious first, actual, kiss turned into chasing that feeling of desire and need - the moment where best friends and something more became blurred, but neither one of them cared. It was when Jisung learned that feelings could be acted upon, that kissing wasn't the only way humans expressed their passion, and that maybe there weren't that many differences between your kind and his.
At least, not when it came to pleasure.
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daisynik7 · 10 months
Text
cw: established relationship, smut - PIV sex, cunnilingus, ass slapping, pet names (good girl, good boy) - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Author's Note: This is so so silly y'all, I'm sorry. As an avid fan of ugly sweaters, I just couldn't resist this one. 😬 Divider credit to @/cafekitsune!
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It’s the ugliest sweater he’s ever laid eyes on, yet Nanami finds himself wearing it, grimacing at his own reflection in the mirror. “Honey,” he calls out to you. “Are you sure about this?”
The distinct sound of jingling bells grows louder the closer you approach him, wearing the same exact sweater. There’s tinsel haphazardly spread across the chest, puff balls sporadically glued throughout the fabric, and of course, bells littered in what seems like every inch. You found it at a local thrift shop and just had to buy it for the upcoming holiday party with your friends. With this, you’re determined to finally win the contest against reigning champ Satoru Gojo, who always wears the same sweater every year, one that plainly has the word “HO” stitched on it. 
You stand beside your husband, beaming at the mirror, admiring your outfits. “What do you mean? It’s an ugly sweater party! This is perfect!”
He pinches at the sides of it, cringing at how each movement emits a ringing that’s already grating on his ears. “It’s so…loud.”
You shimmy, sounding like a tambourine. “I know, isn’t it great?!” You grab onto his hips, forcing him to sway with you. “Come on, sweetie! Are you going to be naughty or nice for me tonight?” you tease him. 
He finally cracks a smile, giving into your silliness by wiggling in place ever-so-slightly to produce a jingle. You giggle, sliding your arms around his neck, giving him a big smooch on the lips. “Thank you. You’ve been a very good boy this year.”
He lingers on your lips, voice low and sultry now. “How about you? Are you going to be a good girl for me tonight?”
You bite your lip. “Kento…”
Soon, the both of you are naked from the waist down, ugly sweaters still intact. You’re bent over the edge of the bed, legs spread apart, ass cheeks stinging from Nanami harsh slaps on your flesh, enjoying the way it jiggles with each solid smack. “Good girl,” he says, squeezing your cheeks in his firm grip.
You can’t help but think this is some sort of payback for making him wear the ugly sweater, though you don’t mind it one bit. “Fuck me, Kento,” you whine, pussy already wet from foreplay.
“Not yet,” he growls, turning you over to face him, laying you flat on the mattress. “Your good boy is going to be very naughty first.” He dives into your arousal, licking your clit with long strokes of his tongue, lubed-up fingers pumping in and out of your slit. You squirm in pleasure, the bells of your sweater ringing with each little twist of your pliant body, yielding to his every touch. He puckers his lips around your swelling bud, sucking on it until you’re gushing all over his face. 
The cacophony only gets more intense when he’s pounding you from behind, you on all fours, him slamming into you. Each thrust produces a new chime adding to whatever symphony of sex you’re creating in the bedroom. After your third orgasm, Nanami flips you over one last time, a wicked grin on his lips, relishing the fucked-out expression on your face as he strokes his cock fast in his fist. “Naughty girl, getting our sweaters all filthy. I guess it won’t hurt if I get them a little messier, right?” He moans, shooting his load onto you, spilling his seed all over the bells and tinsel. 
You’re absolutely certain now that this is revenge for the whole ugly sweater thing, though you don’t let it deter you. After carefully hand washing it, the two of you manage to win this year’s ugly sweater contest, and Nanami can no longer contain the hard-on he has as you parade around in it, reminding him of when you first christened it. He rushes home that night to fuck you once again in that sweater, finally making his peace with it. 
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cheriden · 2 months
Text
「 double extra large 」 。。。
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"You grab his right hand without delay when he raises it to the cashier, and the item he’s been trying to conceal drops flat on the floor. The box shines in gold, the letters ��XXL’ embossed in bold, large letters.  He quickly bends down to grab it. At the time that his head is level to yours and your eyes meet his, both widen with yours in shock, his in embarrassment"
── synopsis 。You’re at the grocery with your roommate, and as you empty the cart at checkout, you see a purchase that snuck itself onto the shopping list.
inexperienced!kai x (slightly)experienced afab!reader
.ᐟ genre 。fluff kinda, smut, mdni!
.ᐟ tags 。lotus-style so i can look at you and confess, ab-riding & frotting, praise kink, taunting, sex (the p-in-v kind), unprotected sex (don't do it!), mutual masturbation, creampie, sub!top kai, overstimulation
.ᐟ status & word count 。oneshot | 3.34k
.ᐟ warnings/notes 。sorry folks we mentioned the condom but we will NOT be using it! reader is afab but is not referred with any gender specific pronouns/nicknames. as always my ass is to lazy to proofread
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The supermart is busy and fast-paced, but not too crowded to the point that it brings you fatigue. In your hand is your notes app full of groceries, and as you call out each product, Kai brings it up within your range of vision, prior to moving it on one side. “Oh shit, I missed the toothpaste. Be right back” You mumble. The other nods at hollering, “'Kay. I’ll just meet you at the counter.”
Rushing to the hygiene section, you nearly trip over yourself trying to recall the type you use. You have no idea what difference the toothpaste with cooling crystals has over the one with cooling menthol chips, opting to grab both and just asking Kai instead.
Over at the checkout, the ash-haired boy isn’t hard to spot. Tall and broad all around, he sticks out like a sore thumb in his gray sweats and large beige sweater. He waved over at you, and you see that you came just in time to help him clear out the pushcart. You squeeze your way past the others in line, settling on his left and bringing up both types of toothpastes up to his face. He smiles, grabbing the other, to which you toss the other on one of the go-back shelves filled with toys and candies from children who didn’t have their way.
Kai is nice and considerate, knows which item to place on the conveyor belt first for the bagger’s convenience; separates frozens and hygiene, poultry from other produce.
About three-fourths through the basket, you notice Kai favoring his left hand over his right. His right hand stays unmoving by his side, though his face shows he’s unbothered. Still concerned, you inquire, “Everything okay?” He’s evidently surprised that you notice, shaking his head as he continues hauling the products. 
You’re aware that Kai has a tendency to keep things to himself, fear of becoming a burden or hassle. You always tell him the opposite, and this instance is no exception. “Are you hurt? Let me see your arm.” He jolts back dramatically when you lean toward him, and with a skeptical look, you back down. 
For one second.
You grab his right hand without delay when he raises it to the cashier, and the item he’s been trying to conceal drops flat on the floor.
The box shines in gold, the letters ‘XXL’ embossed in bold, large letters. 
He quickly bends down to grab it. At the time that his head is level to yours and your eyes meet his, both widen with yours in shock, his in embarrassment.
The cashier taps the register with an impatient look, “Um… Am I going to ring that up for you?”
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The commute home is silent and awkward; all you can think about is the box of condoms stored in the pockets of Kai’s bottoms. 
“It’s right next to his extra-extra large dick.”
You smack your head against the doors, and the other, maybe even the entire train, looks at you like you’re stupid. You mentally scream at yourself to shut up, to stop pondering over it. Though it’s hard not to when a seat clears up, and you’re sat head-to-head with his nether region. The more you tell yourself not to think about it, the more you torment yourself by doing the exact reverse subconsciously. You turn your entire body away from him and onto the window, your legs to your chest, truly cementing yourself as the crazy lunatic on the transit.
Walking uphill to your apartment at the peak of the sun’s presence—a whole workout in itself, isn’t even enough to take your mind off it. Though now you were speculating about why he didn’t just bring it onto the belt like a normal person. “Kai’s a healthy adult man,” reason with yourself, “of course he’d be active.” You’re no virgin either. Maybe you overreacted earlier, clutching your pearls like chastity was something you practiced. 
So why didn’t he just tell you? Were you not close enough to know stuff like that?
Kai knows the ins and outs of your love life, and upon retrospection, you’ve realized he doesn’t really share anything about himself. Not unless you see it unfold in real time, questioning follow-ups then and there. 
The front door unlocks, and you hurriedly drop the bags onto the counter, taking a seat on one of the high stools. 
You observe the other, taking his time to lock the door and organize the shoes by the door before rolling his sleeves to put the groceries away. 
You think about how good a partner he’d be, if he was anything like how you see him around the house—around you. He’s fun and lighthearted, careful and honest. He’s let your faults slide over a thousand occurrences before, never failing to say sorry for his own shortcomings no matter how inconsequential they are. Quite literally the perfect boyfriend. You apologize for only appreciating him like this because of the box of condoms.
You wonder if he has a girlfriend and what his type would be. He doesn’t really bring anyone over, besides a few shared friends to rot on the couch with. “Maybe he’s gay?” You consider, “Or bi?”  If he was, wouldn’t he tell you? 
Maybe you’re a shit friend.
Determined to get to know the other better, you peer over at him as he places fruit into the fridge. “Hyuka?” 
He turns his head with an inquisitive look. “What’s up?” Clearing your throat, you prepare yourself for the corny words that come next. “I want you to know that, I would never judge you or whoever you have sex with. You can trust me with that crap.” Your words of friendship render him speechless, mouth parting and closing without any sound leaving it. He shuts the refrigerator, taking up a seat directly across from you. “I appreciate it.” He returns, the corners of his lips curving up slightly as it purses into a line. “It’s just,” he whispers, looking around and leaning in as if there were other people present, “I’m a virgin.” 
You nod, leaning in to match his stance. Proud of this bonding moment, it’s like the two of you have a little secret. Though you suppose it’s a bit mean-spirited to celebrate over Kai’s clear insecurities, watching him nibble at the bottom of his lips, bouncing his leg in his seat. “That’s totally normal.” You tell him, placing a hand over his, to stop him from picking the skin of his index fingers. “So you’re a virgin too?” He beams, and you’re almost sorry that you have to correct him that you’re not. When you do, his face portrays a red hue, apologizing for assuming almost immediately. You shake your head and say it’s fine. “So who’s the lucky recipient of your…” Regretting it almost immediately, you can't stop yourself, pointing at his crotch. You feign confidence and nonchalance, resting your chin on your palm.
You think it was impossible for him to turn darker, but he flushes to a bright cherry red with his face in his hands, voice muffled as he speaks through it. “I’m… Just going to practice. With a friend.” “Practice?” You press further, and he tells you the name of the person who offered to help him. You’ve heard about them before, one of the friends he used to work part-time with. 
You shouldn't be thinking this, but you’re jealous. You’ve been roommates since legality! How could he trust some rando over you?
“Not the point, this isn’t about you!” You mentally note once again.
Kai presses his cheek on the cool marble, avoiding your  gaze. “In case I do get… Intimate with someone I have feelings for. I don’t want them leaving me over my mediocrity.” In opposition to your better judgment, you nod along instead of hyping him up, knowing it would’ve done nothing to console him in all of his anxious glory.  
As a great friend—you know one surefire way to instill confidence in him.
“Your partner,” you start, throwing caution to the wind as you mentally prepare for the words you’ve scripted haphazardly, “They’re receiving?” 
Kai answers yes hastily, and you’re in awe of the unimaginable scene you’ve concocted as he hides behind his sweater paws. Maybe you’re just really horny, or ovulating.
With one last breath, your voice a tad too loud and fast, as you tell him: “I can do it.”
“Do what?” He asks, though he’s ninety-percent sure on what you mean. Regardless, you clarify, “I’ll be your first. I’ll help you practice and stuff.” 
Truthfully, you can count all of your sexual encounters on one hand, subtracting further when you take away over-the-shirt makeouts.
Kai’s brain goes into overdrive, half-paying attention as you list all of the pros and cons of you being his partner instead. “Plus, we can stop or go anytime. I won’t take it personally, ‘cause I know you.” 
His breathing is wobbly as he whispers, “Okay.” 
With a grin, you take his hand and tug him to his room. “Sorry Hyuka, but since I’m helping you out, it’s your sheets that will have to suffer the consequences.”
It’s a bit unfair, you know. Unorthodox? Absolutely; however you pay little to no mind as you kneel in the center of the mattress, patting your side giddily to call him over.
He’s hesitant and timid when he rounds the bed frame, and you wonder if he’s uncomfortable with you, if you’re forcing him to do this and he’s too nice to do anything about it. Your brazenness falters a bit. “Hey, don’t think like that,” As if he can read your mind, Kai sits next to you and caresses your cheeks, “It’s just my first time is all. I’m sure you’ll be wonderful.” 
Even in his own worry, he’s there to soothe you. You straighten your posture and ask: “How can I make it more comfortable for you?” He purses his lips in thought, eyeing your body. 
You get the signal, taking your top off, him mirroring your movements. “So I guess we can just start—”
Cut off by the force of his lips against your own, you lurch at the sudden contact. He pauses when you don’t kiss back, but when you do, it causes him to fall onto his back.
His kisses are open-mouthed and pliant, as if he was waiting for your actions before mimicking them. You move to straddle him, asking if he’s kissed before. He has. You ask if he’s made out with anyone before, and he shakes his head. “You’re a great learner.” You praise, and he smiles, tilting his head to kiss you again. 
Kai keeps his hand above your hips, slightly urging them to grind against his abdomen. You take him up on the offer, completely malleable to his wanting. As time passes, you can’t help but get curious at the hardening mass beneath you, brows furrowed as you detach your lips from his. You trace the garter of his jeans, mute signal to make sure if you can take it off.
He nods, and the action is slow and painful for him. You giggle as he whimpers at the view of the wet spot over his boxers, taking your time to register every facial expression he makes. He moans your name to get you to stop, hands over his face upon seeing you sneak a finger into the waistband, trailing along the sharp end of his pelvic bone. He chants your name some more, and you think it’s an angel’s calling, so heavenly and gasping for air that you can’t help but ramp him up further. 
You make it a point to pave marks leading up to his jaw, mouth working harsher while you slide the undergarment to the lower end of his thighs. 
You do nothing but wince at his length, eyes flickering between him and his dick. Kai’s gone red again, clearing his throat as he says, “Is something wrong?” 
Frankly, you’re a bit petrified, shaking your head regardless. “So you’re XXL for real?” He’s confused, watching you remove your bottoms. “Yeah?”
“I thought that was just you overestimating.” He grabs your hand to stop you from removing your underwear, a sheepish smile from him as he comments, “Keep it on, wanna see it later—and why would I lie? That just defeats the purpose of buying a condom.” You take your hands off the tight band, and it ricochets onto your skin with a prominent smack. “You’re so kinky.” Kai avoids your feedback, rambling about the hassle of having to google condom brands and their sizes. “It’s so humiliating, I think I’m on some freak watchlist—” He interrupts himself with a moan, focusing on you as your hand swipes at his tip. He grumbles with his head against the wall, breathing unsteady as you bring his fingers near  the inners of your thighs. His demeanor says he’s more than eager to give you satisfaction, watching you rub yourself onto the knuckles of his fingers. His fingers are long and elegant—thin and precise. You revert your attention to his cock, working on the upper shaft as you pout at your own hand. Kai asks you what’s wrong, and note that your hands aren’t as pretty. They’re shorter and stout, nails carelessly cut with a few nicks and scratches here and there. On the contrary, he’s enthralled by the scene. The other responds by taking the hand that rests above his, kissing each finger as he remarks how lovely they are. He carefully encircles your entrance with his middle finger, silently asking for permission. 
With an exasperated sigh, you tell him he can do whatever he wants. “You’ll let me know if you’re uncomfortable right?” You nod, informing him to do the same. He slowly inserts a finger, moving it in and out, grazing your clit each time. He watches as your mouth hangs open, and he takes it as his cue to insert another. You bid yourself not to get distracted, spreading the pre-cum from his tip on the sides of his member. 
He’s too wet, and so are you. At this point, you’re humping his hand, jerking his dick erratically with you calling out each other's names. You come on his hands and pursue balance on his arm as he flexes, coming down from his own high when you squeeze his dick tighter. It paints his stomach like a canvas, stare lingering  as you recollect yourself. 
Suddenly you’re pulled back down to Earth, watching his chest heave while you inquire about lube. He nudges over to his nightstand, and you bring out the box of condoms from earlier. “Do you know how to put on a condom?” Kai says he learned how in high school. You laugh, throwing the box somewhere onto the floor. “I’m clean, and on birth control. You’ll be fine. And besides,” you move, dragging your soaking clothed pussy over his dick, “Don’t you want to feel all of me for your first time? I know I want you to come inside me.”
You’ve gone insane, cock-drunk as you watch the lust sparkle in his eyes when he nods.
No time is wasted; ridding yourself of the heavy fabric and messily empty the bottle of liquid onto the both of you, the other making an even bigger mess as he spreads it across your cunt, his other on himself. His back shoots up when you sink lower halfway, sitting up to tangle his hands in your hair. You reassure him you can take it; he pulls you in for a kiss, long and deep to preoccupy you from the pain as he slowly forces you to drop further. You bite at his lower lip, and he comforts you by caressing the curve of your waist. 
Kai waits for you to stop hurting, and when you start grinding on him, he can’t help the sharp thrust that meets your form. “More!” You yelp, detaching your lips from his. Your command is fulfilled as he pummels into you at an unrelenting speed, head resting below your chin as he kisses the sides of your breasts. He makes sure no area is left blank, leaving dark violet patches littered on your curves. He’s bouncing you up and down his cock, mesmerized by the vision and sound of you malfunctioning over his dick in you. It doesn’t take long for you to adjust, playful behavior back as you tease, “Can’t believe you were gonna fuck your old co-worker instead.” Your legs wrap around his waist, nails digging the plush of his thighs. The other looks genuinely sorry, eyes glossy as he mutters his apologies. “Can’t—not you, only you.” Your pace stammers, “Only me? What—”
“I like you,” He gasps, rolling his hips slowly, “Had—shit, have for a long time now.” He lifts his gaze to meet yours, eyes soulful and seeking approval. “So you were practicing for… me?” “If you’d give me the chance!” He rushes to say, “Wanted to make sure I did well.” You free a hand to forcefully grab his face, grinning down at him. “Pervert,” His cock twitches in you, causing you to wince in return, “but it’s fine. You make me feel good.” Throwing his head back at your statement, he spreads you  flat on the mattress, palms holding your wrists down. “Shit—no, wait,” He whines—watching you writhe underneath him, unable to stop his hips as they hammer into you. “It’s okay,” barely managing your words, “I’m close too.” He versus your name over and over, drool forming on the corner of his lips as you clamp down on him, Kai fucking you through your orgasm. He moans at the applied pressure, rolling his hips when yours arch off the bed, thick cum spurting inside you.
Breathing is a luxury that he denies you, flipping you over and pounding within you mercilessly. “‘M sorry,” he inhales, making no effort to stop, “so tight and warm, ‘cunt’s sucking me in.” Your figure jolts violently beneath him, moans caught in your throat while you beg for him. “Too big—too much!” You shriek, flinching at the sounds of him slapping against your ass. “S—slow down.” Kai’s brain is too shrouded in ecstasy, ignoring your pleas as you come on him again, his own cum mixing as it overflows and drips onto the sheets.
He finishes with one more passionate kiss, followed by a series of chaste ones as he entraps your body in his arms and lays you down on top of him.
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“What the hell was that all about?” Kai’s confused, Peering at you with a curious gleam in his eyes. You gesticulate between the two of you. “Sex. Where did that come from?” He hums, lying back down onto the bed. “Porn? I just did whatever felt right.” Scoffing, you lie closer to him. “Yeah right, nobody learns from porn.” The other scrambles to get a pack of wet wipes, calling himself “naturally gifted” while patting the both of you down. 
He fakes composure, hands giving him away as they tremble out of nervousness. “So are we, like, a thing now?” 
He looks adorable when he’s unsure of himself. Like he would implode if he assumed incorrectly. “I don’t know, did I ever say I liked you back?” The other halts almost immediately, face ready to plead when you reply: “Kidding,” Laughing at his animated reactions, he shares a large exhale of relief when you reply. “Take me out on a date first, then we'll see.”
“We’ll see,” He mocks, bunching the wipes into a ball, tossing it in the bin. “Like we didn’t just have sex. I’m really hurt.” Kissing the pout off his lips and littering his face with tiny pecks, you can feel his cheek tense with his wide smile, eyes forming crescents as he basks in your affection.
Somehow, out of all the kisses he’s received in the past hour, this one set his heart racing the most.
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think i've gone insane because ever since the start of the year my kai brainrot has been so bad. also his full name is a tick word for me, it's ust so fun to sayy
thank you for reading! feedback, reblogs and tags appreciated♡
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everyonewooeverywhere · 3 months
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ATEEZ MASTERLIST
18+ MDNI - minors, ageless blogs & blank blogs will be blocked
(💞) - smut
(🥝) - angst
(🌷) - fluff
(🌱) - request
(🌸) - series
(🤍) - popular
(💚) - personal fav
last update: september 5, 2024
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face sitting 💞🌱 | may 24, 2024
studio sex 💞🌱 | july 7, 2024
behind closed doors 💞 - guitarist!hongjoong x f!reader
posted: feb 4, 2024 | wc: 1.7k
↳ synopsis : guitarist hongjoong fucks you in your hotel room.
taking care of you 💞 - producer!hongjoong x f!reader
↳ synopsis : studio sex‼️
posted: july 28, 2024 | wc: 2.1k
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worst behavior 💞 - dom!seonghwa x bratty!f!reader
posted: mar 28, 2024 | wc: 2.2k
↳ synopsis : he told you not to wear the dress. you did it anyway. and he's not usually very forgiving.
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domestic morning sex 🌷💞 | july 23, 2024
limitless 🤍💞🌱 - soft dom!yunho x f!reader
posted: mar 7th, 2024 | wc: 2.1k
↳ synopsis : nothing makes yunho feel better than knowing he can make his baby cum. nothing. of course, you can certainly cum more than once.
hoodie strings 💚🌷🌱 - caring bf!yunho x gn!reader
posted: mar 21, 2024 | wc: 1.2k
↳ synopsis : yunho absolutely loves it when you play with his hoodie strings. even though you rarely notice you’re doing it.
cry for me 💞 - dom!yunho x f!reader
posted: may 16, 2024 | wc: 1.5k
↳ synopsis : yunho loves you to the moon and back, but god if he doesn't love to make you cry.
adrenaline 💞 - dom!yunho x f!reader
posted june 27, 2024 | wc: 1k
↳ synopsis : yunho's adrenaline when he comes off stage is through the roof. sure, he there are many ways to get it out of his system, but he'd rather take it out on you.
it's okay to cry 🌷 - bf!yunho x gn!reader
posted july 31, 2024 | wc: 500
↳ synopsis : just a reminder that it is in fact okay to cry. yunho comfort fic.
good boy 💞 | wc: 1k
posted aug 1, 2024 | wc: 1k
↳ synopsis : he just wants you to come home. he misses you so so much. but you left your panties on the bed...so maybe he'll be okay.
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needy shower sex 💞 | may 31, 2024
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college boyfriend 🌷| sep 5, 2024
always available 🌷 - bf!san x gn!reader
posted: apr 19, 2024 | wc: 1k
↳ synopsis : San is always available. Especially on your bad days.
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back tattoo 💞 | may 29, 2024
face sitting 💞 | july 24, 2024
toxic best friend situationship 💞 | sep 2, 2024
college boyfriend 🌷| sep 4, 2024
assert your dominance 💞🤍💚 - mechanic!mingi x f!reader
posted: jan 22, 2024 | wc: 2.5k
↳ synopsis : when a random girl keeps shamelessly flirting with mingi, despite his many attempts to ward her off, he still needs his knight dressed in his own sweater and a black mini-skirt to fend her off.
under the radar 💞🌸 - fuck boy!mingi x party girl!reader (feat. best friends!woosan)
ch 1 | ch 2
updated: feb 26, 2024 | wc: 5.3k
↳ synopsis : you like to party but that certainly doesn’t mean you’re always dtf, so, when notorious fuck boy song mingi takes an interest in you, you’re quick to turn him down. but something about his constant insistence is incredibly attractive to you. when they see you start to play into his game, your best friends do everything in their power to keep you away from him. so mingi has no choice but to fly under their radar.
play hooky 💞🌷 - sub!mingi x soft dom!reader
posted: apr 2, 2024 | wc: 1.3k
↳ synopsis : mingi really likes your boobs. so much so that he's willing to skip work for them.
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my sunshine 💞🌷🌱 - newlyweds!wooyoung x f!reader
posted: feb 15, 2024 | wc: 1.5k
↳ synopsis : wedding night shenanigans but wooyoung can't stop smiling at you.
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minor nuisance 💞🌷💚 - bf!jongho x f!reader
posted feb 16, 2024 | wc: 2.5k
↳ synopsis : when you come home from a less-than-perfect day, your boyfriend is nowhere to be found, but you don't want to call him and ask him to come home while he's out with friends. even though he'd drop everything if he knew you were struggling.
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gojos-thot-patrol · 1 year
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Starring Vampire!Gojo, who's become obsessed with his favorite barista at an overnight cafe. He knows that they're soulmates. He just has to convince her that they are as well.
CONTENT WARNING: This fic contains Yandere typical behavior, kidnapping, obsession, noncon/dubcon, blood kink, (spit kink if ya squint), unprotected sex, references to murder, and mind control. Obviously I condone none of this behavior, and reader discretion is heavily advised.
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Satrou watched as you fluttered around your apartment, lighting candles and turning on Over the Garden Wall. You had on your coziest sweater, and not a single overhead light was in use- opting instead for the warm glow of your table and floor lamps. You were welcoming in fall with everything you had in you. You looked warm, cozy, and safe. And despite all of that, he couldn’t help but imagine just how much warmer, cozier, and safer you would look trapped in his mansion.
He adjusted his sitting position on his tree branch, watching you pumpkin spice your tea as you cuddled up on the couch. He loved that you left your curtains open just for him, just so he’d be able to keep an eye on you. He knew it had to be for him, who else could watch you on the fifth floor? And if you didn’t want to be watched at all, surely you would close your curtains. It didn’t make sense for you to just leave them open for no reason. Not with the amount of creeps running around in this town. Creeps he would protect you from.
He thought back to the first time he met you. A brand new barista at his favorite overnight cafe, seemingly hand picked for him. Your sparkling eyes and dazzling smile drew him in, but your irresistible smell is what trapped him. Like warm cinnamon and honeyed apples, already nostalgic to him even if it was his first time experiencing the smell. He was hyper aware of the fangs in his mouth, the need to sink them into whatever was producing that intoxicating smell threatening to overtake him. He felt like a cartoon character drawn to a fresh pie on a windowsill. Your voice sounded damn near angelic. He could still remember the poetry you relayed to him, the first words ever spoken between the two of you. Words he'd treasure forever.
“Hey, I like your glasses!” You smiled, definitely being nice to him because you liked him not just because you wanted a tip. He almost blushed. His glasses- round with red lenses- were more for utility than they were a fashion statement, or something he even liked wearing. They hid his eyes, making them appear to be intensely blue rather than the bright red they really were. Still, if you liked them he’d wear them until the inevitable heat death of the earth. 
“Oh, thanks.” He chuckled nervously, giving you a tight lipped smile. He didn’t want to freak you out with his…condition. At least not yet. 
“No problem man, what can I get you tonight?” It was then and there he decided you would be his one day.
And it was here and now he decided one day was today. He stood up on his branch and leaned against the trunk of the tree. He watched as you did your regular bedtime routine, going to sleep safe and relaxed, knowing your prince charming was coming to take you to his castle tonight. He knew you were on the same wavelength as he was. He knew from the friendly smiles you gave him every time he came into your cafe, from the way you spoke to him as if he was an old friend- with trust and understanding.
Like, when you first started talking about your boyfriend for example. At first, he thought you were trying to discourage his affections, hint at him to go away. But, he quickly came to his senses. You were his one true love, and he was yours, why would you try and throw that away for some mortal asshole? It wasn’t hard for him to figure out that you were asking him to take out the trash. 
He remembered how pathetic that boy sounded as he pleaded for his life. It disgusted Satoru that he was able to get so close to you. You deserved someone that could defend you, not some child that cried the moment things got dicey. You deserved him, Satoru Gojo. No one else would do. Still, it was an honor to take care of this chore for you, even if he wished it had been more of a challenge. He was glad to have taken on the task. It reaffirmed his love for you, and the desire to give you what you deserved. 
The lights in your neighbors windows finally went out, assuring him that no one would try to be a hero if you decided to play hard to get. He waited another hour to make sure everyone was asleep before he dropped out of the tree, taking on his bat form and flying to your window. He turned back into a human, catching himself on your brick windowsill. It was around now he realized he didn’t exactly think this through, but- it’s fine. It’s fine! This is true love, this is fate, things were going to work out. Probably. 
He pulled himself up, balancing with one arm on the thin ledge and opening your window with the other. He smiled when he found it unlocked, confirming that not only were you on the same page as him, you were waiting for him. Good girl. He slid into your studio apartment, and immediately had to brace himself against a wall. It was overwhelming just how much this space smelled like you. It made sense, of course, you spent more of your time here than anywhere else. He expected it to be rich with your smell, but he didn’t expect it to be so intoxicating. He could feel his fangs buzzing with the need to feed, and his body flush with lust. He was down right giddy at the realization that soon, his home would smell like this. 
But he had to get you there first. He straightened up, coming to his senses as he turned took at your sleeping form. He felt his chest tighten with affection. You looked so peaceful when you were asleep, softly snoring and completely content. You looked ethereal in the pale moonlight, snuggled under your fluffy blanket. If he saw a picture of you like this, he wouldn’t believe you were real. Which, is saying something cause he’s, ya know, a fucking vampire. 
He strode over to your bedside, gently running the back of his knuckles along your angelic jawline. “Rise and shine, beautiful. It’s time to go home.” He whispered softly into your ear, his rich voice filling your mind and causing you to stir.
“Mm- wha..” You muttered softly, not fully understanding the gravity of the situation in your groggy state.
“Come on darling, our bed is waiting for you at home.” He cooed again, taking your warm hand into his ice cold claws. 
“Wha..wait, Gojo?”
“You can call me Satoru. Or Love, that would work too.”
“GOJO?!” Oop- you were awake now. You ripped your hand from his, scrambling to get away from him. So you were going to play hard to get. “What are you doing in my home?!” You demanded. He tried to push back his annoyance. 
“Darling girl, this isn’t your home.” He gently reminded you, “Your home is all the way on the other side of town, with me.”
“Oh, fuck That!” You yelled, grabbing your bedside table lamp, a heavy porcelain antique, and smashing it across his head. To your credit, if he wasn’t a supernatural being- that would have really fucking hurt. If he didn’t know you were just playing, he would have thought you were actually trying to injure him! But, even if you were just playing, he couldn’t let violence slide. 
“Now now baby girl, Is that anyway to treat your lover?” He asked, pulling you into his arms with a speed that you quite frankly could not comprehend. His grip was impossibly strong too, not only rendering escape out of the question, but making it hard to breathe. You could feel bruises forming where is fingertips met your flesh, and bile rise in your throat. 
“I’m not your fucking lover Gojo-”
“Darling, please it’s Satoru to you.”
“You’re fucking crazy!” You snapped, trying to wiggle out of his grip, despite the futility of it. 
“Crazy for you Babygirl.” Oh great, not only was he out of his fucking mind, he was going to be cheesy about it too. 
“Let me go!” You demanded, trying to thrash but only managing to squirm. You tried kicking him, but it was about as affective as performing CPR on a corpse.
“I will, as soon as we get home.” He “assured” you. It was then you realized he was leading you to your open window. Oh no. Oh no no no no no! Was he going to fucking kill you?! Was home the afterlife?!
“What the fuck are you doing?!” You screamed, clawing as his arms and struggling against him in any way you could, “Gojo-”
“Satoru.” He was starting to lose his patience with your insistence of using his family name. 
“Motherfucker, we are on The. Fifth. Floor. You’re gonna kill us!”  Ohhhh riiight, You were human! You had never flown before! Of course you were freaking out, the first flight is always a little scary. He reminded himself he needed to be more sympathetic with you while you were adjusting, and mentally berated himself for forgetting in the first place.
“Don’t worry darling,” He said, sitting on the ledge and holding you even tighter to his chest- if that was possible, “I won’t let you fall.” He said before promptly falling back first out of the window. You don’t know what was louder, the sound of the wind rushing past your ears, or the screams ripping from your throat.
And then the wind got softer, as if you weren’t falling but-...You looked up to confirm your suspicion. Gojo was holding you on his chest as coasted through the air, looking as relaxed as he would if he was on an inner-tube on a sleepy lake. You suddenly understood what was happening.
“Oh, I’m dreaming!” You all but laughed at the realization.
“It is a dream come true, huh?” He smiled, “I thought we might share dreams.” You rolled your eyes at him, but noticeably relaxed. If you were dreaming, that meant there was no danger. You weren’t flying through the air with a sociopath that was trying to kidnap you, no. You were at home, safe in your bed. In the morning, you would throw away the expired clove in your pantry, and watch The Lost Boys as this fucked up dream slowly seeped out of your mind. All would be well.
That was the thought you were clinging onto as he landed in the lawn of an old southern gothic mansion on the edge of town. You were familiar with this property. The kids spread rumors of it being haunted, overrun with ghouls and ghosts and all things that go bump in the night. Most of them wouldn’t go up to it’s front door, even on Halloween night, with the promise of candy hanging in the air. They believed that once you knocked on the door, your days were numbered. Even the adults spoke about it in hushed whispers, sharing conspiracy theories about who the home owner could possibly be, and why no one ever saw them. Many assumed it was abandoned. 
And now that you were in the front lawn, you understood where all the fear came from. The house was overwhelming, a dark aurora clinging to it and a sense of dread radiating off of it. But, you were dreaming! You couldn’t be hurt! You let Gojo lead you into the front door with zero fear, knowing that you were impervious to danger at the moment. 
Inside you were greeted with a surprisingly warm interior. The outside seemed more like a defense mechanism now, like a bug that disguises itself as a much deadlier creature, when in reality the bug was harmless. Antique table lamps bathed the room in warm light, The red vintage wallpaper making the old black furniture look inviting. The class and elegance of the home put you even more at ease. Leaving you vulnerable. 
You didn’t even notice the amount of locks he was locking behind you, or the fact that some of them required a code. “Welcome home darling,” He said as he finally finished securing the million latches, returning and wrapping his arms around your waist, “What do you think?” He purred.
“It’s…cozy.” You said. It was, in it’s own weird way. “I always wondered what the inside of this house looked like.” 
“Well, it’s yours now, so feel free to make any changes you want.” He smiled, kissing your forehead. You felt a chill as his cold lips pressed against your skin. Your brain may have known it was dreaming, but your body didn’t. You still felt shaky, your heart was still racing, and your palms were still clammy. Your body was in super-hyper-defense mode. Which, was to say you felt like you were seconds away from a panic attack. He must have noticed the blood draining from your face.
“It’s late darling. The grand tour can wait, let me show you to our room.” Oh, good idea. If you slept, you could wake up in your bed and get this dream over with. You nodded and let him lead you up the ornate, spiral staircase, and down the hall to the master bedroom. An absolutely massive room that matched the living area, only instead of red it was a powder blue, A truly extravagant bed was the center piece of the room, a large canopy hanging over it. You noticed there were no windows in the room. Come to think of it, you hadn’t seen any windows at all, other than in the living room. And even still, they were boarded up.
“Thanks for the room, I uh…I think I’m going to go to sleep. You can go now.” You told him. His laugh sent a blizzard through your body.
“Go now?” He cackled, “Darling, this is my room too.” He said gently, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close. “We share everything…” He leaned down and pressed his nose into the juncture of your neck, taking a deep breath and getting lost in your scent. He felt you try to push him away, but you would have had an easier time trying to push Mount Fuji over. 
“Gojo, I-”
“Satoru.” He growled, “For the last time. My name, is Satoru.” He very gently reminded you, gripping you tighter and digging his long black claws into your side. You gasped from the pain, feeling drops of blood leak from you new would. You felt the pain. You felt pain.
You weren’t dreaming. You weren’t dreaming.
 You felt a sharp icy chill rip though you as he dragged his cold, slimy tongue along your neck. “You smell so decadent my love.” He praised. You lost your words as you felt him run his hands under your sleep shirt and up your bare skin. His chilled fingers left frigid trails along your body, reminding you of where he had touched- where he had violated. Your heart felt like it was going to explode out of your throat, and your stomach turned as he pressed your hips into his, making it painfully clear just how happy he was to have you here. 
He could smell your blood leaking from your side and it was clouding every other thought he had. He hadn’t fed in weeks. No one else was worth it, no one smelled nearly as appetizing as you. Every other disgusting mortal tasted rotten to him now, and no matter who he chased they were never you. They may have had your skin color, or your eye color, but none of them could hold a candle to you.
But he had you here now. His darling, his world. His perfect meal. And he was fucking starving. “I bet you taste as good as you smell.” He purred, dragging his fangs across the thin skin on your neck.
“N-no, don’t-!” Your words turned into a scream as he dug his fangs into your flesh, your scream dying in your throat as he bit down. You felt his sharp fangs pierce into you, opening up your veins and letting the blood flow freely for him. You felt his cold tongue collecting the very crimson that give you life, greedily feeding on you as if you were the finest meal he had ever had.
Probably because you were. The flavor of fresh apples and salted caramel spreading in his mouth and through his being, making his cold body buzz with your warmth. You tasted better than he had ever imagined. He roughly grabbed your hair, tangling his claws in it as he pulled your head to the side, giving him more room to feast. It restarted your nervous system. You found your will to fight again, thrashing in his grip and trying even harder to push him away. He growled at your sudden insolence, forcing himself away from your throat.
He grabbed you by the chin and forced you to look in his eyes. “Why do you insist on fighting me, Love?” He groaned. You realized he wasn’t wearing his normal glasses, and his eyes were still as red as the blood currently flowing through you. Fuck, how could you have been so blind? You tried to break away from his grip again.
“Because you’re a fucking monster!” You snapped. Well that was harsh. He didn’t want to do this so early on in your living with him, but really you left him with no choice. “Let me go!” You demanded again.
“Why would I do that?” He asked, his eyes burning into your very soul. “You want to be here.” You watched as his eyes changed. Red irises now ringed with violet, then gold, then violet again. It was so…mesmerizing.
“No I-...” Your words fell from your lips, and you couldn’t bring yourself to finish the sentence. You could feel your brain filling with fog, the edges of your vision becoming a vignette. Slowly you could feel the ice he filled you with melting from your body, leaving you feeling something much warmer instead.
“Yes you do. You’re my girl, of course you want to be here with me.” He purred, a soft smile looking so misplaced on his bloodstained face. “You do want to be with me, don’t you Y/n?”
“I do.” N-no. No that's not what you meant to say. What the hell?
“Then why are you trying to fight me?” Because he’s a fucking creep that stole you out of your bed and was now practicing the ancient art of BLOODLETTING on you!
“I don’t know.” No! Why weren’t your words matching your thoughts?! Why couldn’t you say what you meant!?
“If you don’t know Darling, then there's no point to it. I don’t want to hurt you my love, please don’t force my hand.” he sighed, cupping your cheek in his palm. You wanted to jerk away, but you felt your body lean into his cool touch. It felt nice against your warm cheek.
“I’m sorry.” You absolutely were not sorry.
“It’s okay Beautiful. I know how you can make it up to me.” His grin was wicked with ill intent as he returned to your neck, licking at the blood flowing there. You could feel your body temperature continue to rise, what was once almost pleasant slowly becoming unbearable. You whined softly at the unpleasantness of the heat.
“You’re warm,” He noted, running his cold hand along your side. The ice he held wasn’t unwelcome anymore. Now it felt like the cool waves of the ocean on a hot summer day. You felt you head nod limply at his obvious observation. Of course you were warm, you were on fire. 
“Let me help.” He whispered, pulling your shirt over your head. You’d think being exposed to the cool air in this drafty mansion would have helped your situation, but you felt no change. You didn’t feel a change when he slipped your bottoms off either, and you almost whined when he pushed you onto the bed, the fluffy fabric of the blanket making everything worse. 
And then his lips were on yours, like the first chill breeze after a heat wave. More, more, you needed more. Your hands fumbled with his shirt buttons, struggling with numb fingers to fit the brass through the holes. Finally, after undoing three, you gave up and ripped the shirt off over his head- possible ripped fabric be damned. 
“I knew you wanted me darling,” He grinned, your eagerness to have him undressed fueling his undeserved sense of confidence. You didn’t care though, because his skin was finally on yours. His chest pressed against yours, you finally felt some sense of relief, like putting aloe on a bad sunburn. You moaned softly as he trailed kisses from your jaw to the wound on your neck, still bleeding but much slower now. He gently sucked on the dripping injury, and instead of pain, you felt euphoria. You moaned softly, pressing your thighs together to try and relieve some of the building pressure.
He gave you a tight lip smile, red covering his lower face, as he moved down on you, spreading your legs. His grin grew once he saw what you were working with. He knew it would be pretty, he had imagined it more than a few times while fucking his hand- chasing a high he knew only you could give him. But honestly, he didn’t think it would be that pretty. You noticed his lack of commentary just in time to find out why he was keeping his mouth shut.
He leaned down and spit your own blood out and onto your cunt, making an already pretty pussy prettier. You were embarrassed to say you moaned, but the blood chilled by his mouth felt do fucking good on your burning body. 
“God, you’re a freak.” He laughed, showing blood stained teeth. “Yet another thing we have in common.” He cooed as he massaged the sangria into your clit, sending waves of euphoria through your body. His hand moved down, slowing tracing your entrance before slipping a long finger inside, quickly followed by a second. 
“Oh, fuck!” You gasped as he curled his fingers up inside of you, gracing your g-spot with an expert precision. You felt your hips buck up against your will, reacting to him in ways that would have made you nauseous in any other state. 
“You like that Darling?” He asked with a smirk, curling his fingers again and again. You whined softly, chasing the chill of his touch. “Answer me.”
“Yes.” You grumbled. You wanted to tell him no. You wanted to tell him to fuck off and stop touching you, but at the same time that was the last thing you wanted him to do. It felt like his touch was the only thing that could regulate your body, not to mention the fact that it just felt so fucking good. 
You were sure whatever he did to you was causing this heat, but you had also never been this sensitive before. His every movement sent waves of electricity through your nervous system. Your body craved him in way it had craved no one else before, responding to him like it was made for him. You felt a cool pool of pleasure forming in your stomach, your body buzzing with desire and anticipation.
He bit his lip as he felt you clench around his fingers, and immediately he had to feel that clench around his dick. He pulled his hand away, placing his two fingers in his mouth and sucking them clean, eyes rolling back at the sweet taste. You whined at the loss of contact, hips bucking in search of the pleasure they were robbed of. You wanted to cry, the frustration of a lost climax clouding your already cloudy brain. “Noooo!” Was all you could manage to say, and god did you sound pathetic saying it.
“Don’t worry Darling girl,” Satoru chuckled as he pulled out his cock, “I got something even better for you.” You watched as he pumped his dick, the angry red tip looking so much redder against his pale skin. He rubbed his hand over the leaking tip, using the fluid there to slick himself up. You wouldn’t say this about a lot of guys, but you thought even your normal brain would be able to admit he had a pretty dick.
A pretty dick he was about to shove into your soaking cunt. You bit your lip in anticipation as he lifted your hips up to meet his. “Ready pretty girl?” He purred. You nodded an aggressive affirmative and he almost laughed. “No no Beautiful, with your words. Tell me you want me.”
“I want you!” You whined, hearing your voice but not your words again, “I want you so bad, please. Please I need you, I need you to fuck me until I can’t walk anymore, until I can’t think straight, I want to be ruined for anyone else, please!”
“Atta girl,” He praised, finally pushing into your needy cunt. He shuddered as he did, your warm velvety walls enveloping him and pulling him deeper than he realized possible. He almost came right then and there, like an untouched virgin, but managed to contain himself. Your moans weren’t doing him any favors, but you couldn't help it. He felt like a snowstorm inside the inferno that was your body, controlling the fire that raged there and finally giving you some relief. The stretch stinging at you was just an added bonus.
“You feel so fucking good Darling,” He praised, pulling back and slowly pushing himself back in, perfectly rubbing against your g-spot. You curved your back in pleasure, electric waves of euphoria crashing into your body, and quickly dragging you back to the edge. 
“It’s like you were made for me,” He cooed, “My perfect meal, my perfect fuck toy, you were designed to be mine.” He moaned, tangling his fingers into yours as he looked you in the eyes, painting a scene of what he thought intimacy looked like.
“Fuck, you feel so good Satoru..” You moaned, cunt fluttering around him as your climax quickly approached. Something in his brain switched. Before you fully understood what was happening, you were folded into a mating press, his cock reaching places inside of you you weren’t even sure were possible to reach. Your veins felt like they were full of smoke and your entire body felt like it was made of stars, ecstasy exploding inside you every time he moved. 
“Say it again.” He demanded.
“Satoru!” You yelped, honestly a little pissed off he expected you to talk now.
“Again.” He demanded, pumping into you with a vengeance.
“Satrou!” You whined, digging your nails into the pale flesh of his back, dragging your nails and leaving angry red claw marks in your wake. 
“Who do you belong to Y/n?” He asked, eyes burning into your again. You knew the answer he wanted. You clenched your teeth and sucked on your tongue. You used any willpower you had left not to say it. He may have taken your body, but you couldn’t let him take you. 
“Come on Darling, answer me. Who do you belong to?” He prompted again, this time coupled with the perfect thrust of his hips, lining up perfectly with your sweet spot, and using a free hand to rub your clit. The wave of lust and pleasure that overtook you washed away any willpower you may have had left.
“You, Satoru.” You whined, feeling tears prick at your eyes.
“That’s right darling,” He grinned wickedly as he licked at your neck wound, letting the blood flow over his tongue. “You’re fucking mine.” He started pounding into you with a vengeance, and you felt the strings in your stomach start to snap. Your entire body tensed up vision went white hot as galaxies exploded inside your veins, euphoria crashing into your body in seismic waves, making your cunt quiver from the after shocks. Your head felt like it was filled with cotton and you could feel your thighs trembling around him as you struggled to catch your breath.
“Satoru I-” You tried to communicate but couldn’t get the words, your already altered brain turning to much and leaking out of your ears as he fucked you through your high. His was close, he wouldn’t be far behind. The way that your cunt fluttered around his cock mixed with the pretty sounds you were making were frying his own nervous system, and all he could think about was how pretty you’d look with his cum dripping down your thighs. 
“Y/n,” He panted as he pounded into you. Your eyes met his. You lifted a shaky hand to push his snowy hair out of his face and he was done for. The small intimate act leaving him gushing deep inside you to the point of overflow. “Fuck I love you,” He moaned as he fucked you through his high, “I Love You, I love you so fucking much.”
He all but collapsed on top of you as he finally finished, pulling you into his cold chest. Your body temperature finally felt normal again, and you could feel the effects of his hypnosis slowly wearing off. He noticed too, and kissed away the tears that slipped down your cheeks. 
“I’m sorry Darling, did I overwhelm you?” He asked, genuine concern filling his voice. You wanted to scoff at the question, but choose to keep quiet instead. You were locked in his house. You had to play his games now to stay alive. He took your silence to be an affirmative.
“I’m sorry Darling. You don’t have to say it back yet, it’s okay. I know you love me.” He smiled, your blood still staining his fangs and making you sick. He finally pulled out, and you hated the empty feeling that followed. “Come on, let’s go get you cleaned up, okay?”
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daddy-issues-99 · 1 year
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Brahms Heelshire x f!reader smut
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Can we all agree he looks so precious in this gif
PLOT: Brahms had been horrible throughout the day and you lose your temper when confronting him, making him cry. Realizing you messed up you decide to treat him for making him cry.
(1k words) Lots of fluff, p in v, mommy kink, praise
Usually you were by yourself in the Heelshire Manor aside from the usual visit from Malcolm to deliver the groceries and do the yard work. It was normally just a quick visit, minimal talk, and you would both go on with your day.
However, Brahms thought otherwise.
Throughout the day while he was there, certain items would go missing, strange noises would be heard throughout the manor and little 'accidents' would happen. When Malcolm would walk past dressers and paintings they would mysteriously tip and fall, almost hitting him every time he came over.
He knew these incidents weren't as 'accidental' as they seemed and tried to keep his distance from the house and you. But today he had brought in a rather large load of groceries and decided to help you put them away.
"Its nice to see you for more than 2 seconds" you said with a chuckle "Well, this house isn't exactly welcoming." he said placing some produce in the fridge. "Well, its nice to have some company." You two continued putting things here and there, continuously hearing odd noises and scuffling throughout the house and walls.
After you finished you decided to walk Malcolm out, exchanging small talk in the meantime. As you walked to the door a small painting fell in front of the two of you close to Malcolm causing you both to jump.
"This house is falling apart" Malcolm said stepping over the painting. "I don't know how you live here, especially with that damn doll" As soon as that phrase left his mouth a porcelain vase came flying through the air, directly hitting Malcolm in the head, knocking him to the ground and shattering on the floor.
You whipped your head around to see where the vase came from only to see and empty doorway and the small display table wobbling where the vase used to sit.
After a moment Malcolm left, luckily only with a few scratches and a bit startled. You quickly cleaned up the vase, slowly picking up the sharp pieces and tossing them into the trash. You knew this wasn't an 'accident' and it needed to be delt with.
You tossed the broom aside and marched up the stairs. You looked throughout the rooms and in all the typical spots but you could find Brahms and after a good hour of searching and calling, he was nowhere to be found.
It had gotten late and you were getting ready for bed when you heard the small creek of the secret door in the corner. You turned around to see Brahms cautiously peeking out of the door holding the nightly to-do list, pointing to the last line: "Kiss Goodnight".
"No Brahms, you've been very bad today, go to bed." You continued getting your pajamas ready until Brahms was standing next you you "kiss...?" "No Brahms" You turned to the bathroom but Brahms grabbed your wrist. "Kiss." "No Brahms! You've done nothing but cause trouble today! You've been a bad boy and you don't deserve a kiss!"
Brahms went still. You weren't usually harsh like this but he had gotten on your nerves today and was definitely out of line. You looked up to see him staring at the floor, hands shaking slightly. He let out a small sniffle "I don't deserve it?" He asked, his voice quiet and shaking.
'You fucked up' was all you could think. You had never seen him cry before and it shook you to your very core. "Hey, hey, Brahms I'm sorry, I lost my temper I'm sorry." You brought your hand to his cheek, or rather his mask and caressed his face, your forehead resting on his.
"...I'm sorry" Brahms said barely above a whisper. "I accept your apology Brahms, we were both out of line. I think we could both use a kiss goodnight." You said gently pushing him onto the bed.
You slowly began taking off his sweater and tank top, going painfully slow, enjoying the desperate look in his eyes. He went to place his hands on your hips but you quickly pinned them to the bed "Did I say you could touch me Brahms?" "N-no" You smirked hearing him stutter.
You stood back up and slowly began to strip your clothes off. His bulge seemed to grow with every piece of clothing your tossed to the side.
After what seemed like an eternity you were completely exposed. You walked over and pulled his pants and boxers down, causing his cock to spring free, pre cum dripping down the side.
You straddled his lap once more positioning yourself over his member "Ill make you a deal, if you can go the entire time without touching me, Ill let you cum. Deal?" You asked rubbing the tip of his cock against your folds. "Y-yes!" "Such a good boy"
You plunged down onto his cock causing his head to fall back, letting out a breathy moan. His hands gripping the bedsheets so tight his knuckles turned white.
The only sounds that could be heard from the room were skin slapping against eachother and the breathy moans from both your mouths.
"You feel so good inside me Brahms, you were made for this pussy." The pleasure was to much for him to respond with something other than a strangled moan.
You looked down at Brahms's sweaty form, holding onto the sheets for deer life, trying his hardest not to touch you. "Is it hard baby? Not being able to touch me, caress me, touch mt flesh?" "Y-yes" "Yes what?" "Yes mommy!" "Good boy, have you learned your lesson?" "Yes mommy, Ill behave, I-Ill be good I will! Just let me tough you please!"
"I dont know, I like seeing you like this, pathetic, begging as I ride your thick cock. Why would I change that?" "P-please mommy! Ill do anything! Just let me tough you!" "Well if you insist"
His hands instantly went to your waste, caressing your side and moving up to your breasts, pinching your nipples and squeezing your flesh. "Thank you mommy, your so soft~" The compliment made you giggle "My good little slut, my precious boy"
You could tell he was close, and so were you. He gripped your thighs, bucking his hips "Mommy, Im close." "Me too baby" You quickened your pace moving one hand to your clit and the other to his chest to support yourself.
You quickly circled your clit, bouncing on his cock as quickly as you could, Brahms leaving bruises on your hips and thighs from his grip.
"Such a good boy Brahms. My good boy." With that Brahms let out a loud moan, shooting cum deep inside you. You followed close behind cumming on his cock continuing to ride his cock letting you both ride out your climax.
You fell onto his chest pulling off of his cock. "Thank you mommy" "Your welcome baby. I believe you deserve this for being such a good boy." You lifted the mask up just enough to see his lips and gave him a gentle, passionate kiss.
"You're my good boy Brahms, my good boy." "I love you." "I love you to baby."
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so-sangthearcher · 4 months
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The Lovers, The Dreamers, And Us || Josh kiszka x F!reader
Warnings: recreational drug use
Pure fluff, crack treated seriously tbh
wc: 1.7k
-
Josh had invited you over for a night in with him and the boys.
You knew what that meant. Getting high off their fancy, expensive weed, and getting loose with each other while step brothers plays on the large screen in the background. Ten minutes after getting the message, you were in a soft sweater, grabbing your bag that was full of snacks, and heading out the door. They only lived about 15 minutes away, so you decided to send Josh a text, letting him know you were on your way. Upon your arrival, you noticed that Josh’s jeep was the only car in the drive way. This made you raise your eyebrow, but you figured they were still on their way.
You parked and made your way to the door, knocking with the jaunty tune of “shave and a haircut,” alerting Josh to your presence. You stood back, shifting from foot to foot while you waited for him to let you in. In true Josh fashion, he took his sweet time. Just as you were about to knock again, the door came swinging open, a slight plume of smoke making its way out onto the porch. “I see you got started with out me,” you hummed, eyeing him as you pushed your way past him, making yourself out home with no hesitance. You met his eye as he grinned at you. “You sure keep me in check, don’t you,” he laughed, making his way over to the couch that you had settled yourself on. You let your head fall back against the plush cushion, watching as Josh reached for the bong, making sure the cherry was still bright, and producing smoke. He took a deep inhale, smirking at the way the water bubbled, before letting the smoke settle in his lungs and pushing it out. He thrust the glass object towards you, shaking it lightly. You rolled your eyes and grabbed it, taking a decent hit to get yourself started. “I usually wait for the others, y’know,” you teased, the last little bit of smoke flowing through your lips as you talked. Josh shifted in his spot next to you, “Yeah.” He signed, letting his head roll to the side so he was facing you. “They aren’t coming.”
“What?” You asked, a little startled, “Why not?”
Josh groaned, “Danny roped the other two into going out tonight, after I had already invited you. But I didn’t want to cancel on you, so… I figured you and I could keep up the tradition.”
It wasn’t uncommon for this type of thing to occur. Though, there was something different about getting high with just Josh. Something… Tender, secretive, yearning almost.
You giggled and sighed, letting the weed make its way into your psyche. “It’s fine, they’re a bunch of weenies. We’ll just get high enough for all of them.” You said, matter-of-factly. Josh nodded in agreement, your glassy eyes meeting each other for a second that was just too long to be platonic. You tore your eyes away, grabbing your bag and plopping it down in between the two of you. “We feast,” you said, tone flourishing, as you grabbed the copious amount of junk food you had stuffed in there. “Ugh, you are, an angel,” Josh groaned as he packed another bowl, eyeing the selection you had laid out in front of him. He held the flame under the bowl, letting the glass heat, small plumes of smoke rising from the bowl. He took another hit, letting the smoke permeate his lungs before grabbing a bag of hot Cheetos and tearing it open. “The heartburn is gonna be wild,” He sighed, releasing the smoke from his lung. You rummaged around in your bag before pulling out the tums, slapping the bottle in his hand, “I came prepared,” you said, watching the dopey smile spread across his face. “My angel,” he sighed, repeating the term of endearment from earlier. Your cheeks burned, there was that yearning feeling again.
The peaceful atmosphere and your altered state heightened these feelings, making them harder to ignore. It wasn’t like you were ignorant to your feelings about Josh, it’s just that they were that much more obvious in this room alone, with your thighs pressing against Josh’s. You allowed yourself to feel, letting your head fall onto his shoulder, cheeks heating once more as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. You sat up, grabbing the bong, taking a few more deep hits, letting your head spin. “Jesus, y/n, we have plenty to go around, it isn’t going anywhere.” Josh laughed, you laughed too, for a reason unbeknownst the the both of you, before you were laid over in his lap in a fit of giggles. You let your head rest against his thighs as your laughter settled, his hands tangling themselves into your hair.
You could feel the way his stomach rose and fell with his breath.
You shifted so you were looking up at him, only a little bit surprised to find him looking back, eyes glassy, a wide smile across his face as he continued to play with your hair. You smiled at the feeling of his hands, letting your eyes fall shut, laughing softly at the familiar sound of Will Ferrel and John C. Reiley arguing about drum kits. “That’s Sam and Danny,” You stuttered out, laughing at your own joke before it even finished leaving your lips. You watched as Josh threw his head back and laughed loudly, body moving as he did so. He wiped his eyes, taking a breath, before spluttering into laughter once more, you following suit, tears pricking at your eyes.
You loved these moments, blissful, unashamed belly laughs, were sure to cure the things of the world. You quited down, eyes still on Josh, as they always seemed to be lately. He bent over slightly, face resting just above yours. “You are one of a kind, angel.” He breathed, you could feel his breath hitting your lips. “I could say the same thing about you, Mr. Kiszka, super famous rockstar.” You sighed, eyes flicking down to his lips, and back up to meet his eyes. “Please, you’ve always been the better singer. Writing those songs, just for you to sing them to an empty room. Though, no body would be worthy of hearing a voice as beautiful as yours,” He said softly. You looked away, lips parting. “Sing to me,” Josh said, leaning back, head falling against the couch once more as his fingers resumed their movements in your hair.
“Why are there so many, songs about rainbows…” You started softly, holding back the giggles, “and what’s on the other side,” Josh finished, voice coming out strained and nasally in a poor attempt to mimic kermit the frog. “Rainbows are visions, but only illusions. So we’ve been told and some choose to believe it. I know they’re wrong, wait and see.” Your voice was soft, “Some day we’ll find it, the rainbow connection…” Your voice slowed as Josh leaned back over you, returning to the close proximity. “The lovers, the dreamers, and me,” you finished, blinking slowly at the man above you. You shifted, sitting up, before maneuvering yourself into Josh’s lap. “Am I reading this wrong?” You asked, feeling suddenly bold, the weed taking away your inhibitions. Josh shook his head slowly, leaning in ever so slightly, inviting you to close the gap, and so you did. Your lips met softly, kiss deepening as you got used to the feeling of each other.
The door swung open, banging against the wall, “WHERE’S THE P-“ Sam’s voice bellowed, stoping at the sight of you and Josh in a somewhat compromising position. You pulled away from him, startled at the new presence. “Hey guys,” Josh giggled, “Y/n its supposed to go ‘the lovers, the dreamers and ME’ not ‘the lovers, the dreamers and SAM,” Josh choked out, smile practically breaking his face in half. You squawked, laughter bubbling up from your chest, you leaned into Josh, head falling on his shoulder.
You caught your breath, just for your eyes to land an a semi drunk Sam, Danny, and Jake who were still awkwardly standing in the doorway, making your laughter start up again. “I think we need to be on their level,” Danny says, walking deeper into the house before settling next to you and Josh on the couch. “What so were going to start kissing each other? Revealing deep-seated feelings for each other?” Jake laughed, flopping down on to the rocking chair in the corner. “You have feelings for me?” You whispered, searching Josh’s eyes. “You haven’t told her? Josh what the fu-“ Sam started cut off by Jake and Danny simultaneously shushing him. Josh rolled his eyes, “Way to ruin it Sammy, but yes. Y/n, I like you,” he sighed, “Love, he means love,” Sam interrupted. “Jesus, Sam! We’re having a fucking moment, pack a bowl or something!” You hissed, earning snickers from Jake and Danny, before turning your attention back to Josh. “Yes, I love you. I would give up everything if It meant I would be able to just sing kermit the frog with you, I’d never smoke again if it meant I get to hold you, I’d smoke every day if it meant I get to hold you like this again. Even if it was just for a second,” Josh rambled. You giggled, quieting him with a kiss, “I love you, so much, Josh. I alway have.” You admitted, planting one more kiss on his plush lips. Cheering erupted from the other side of the room. “Finally!” Jake cheered, fake British accent making an appearance as the weed and alcohol mixed.
You smiled and rolled your eyes fondly, resting your forehead on Josh’s. “Can you believe those guys,” Josh scoffed before smirking, “C’mon babe. Pack us another bowl.” You flushed at the nickname, knowing the truth it held. You moved from your straddling position, grabbing the extra bong on the table and packing it, before flopping back down into Josh’s lap, throwing your legs over Danny’s.
That secretive, tender feeling, was now filling up the room, and you couldn’t be happier about it. You and Josh should’ve gotten high together without the boys a lot sooner, but you were looking forward to the new moments you two were going to share, rather than the ones you may have missed out on.
-
hehe i hope yall liked this
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icycoldninja · 3 months
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I thought of one! Could you do the Sparda men with a female s/o who loves Halloween and all things spooky?(Maybe add that she loves fall too, the colors and coziness of it) And maybe even looks like Morticia Addams? 🕷🕸
Sure, sure, enjoy!
Sparda boys + V x Halloween-loving!Reader headcannons
¤ Dante ¤
-Being a seasoned demon hunter, Dante is not at all bothered by ridiculous Halloween decorations and thinks they're little more than goofy plastic props.
-He does get confused when he sees fake spiderweb though, wondering if those are just for decoration or if your house needs to be cleaned.
-He likes fall colors, though. They're warm and oddly cozy.
-He finds himself accompanying you to the store to buy decorations and other fall-themed furniture for your home.
-Is always down to make monster-shapes cookies and carve pumpkins with you, even if it isn't Halloween.
-If you happen to be an elegant goth girl like Morticia AAdam's, Dante will attempt to dress goth to match. It....doesn't suit him.
■ Vergil ■
-Vergil claims he doesn't like Halloween because it's all so "foolish", with the exaggerated costumes and unnecessary practices.
-However, you'll still find him stealing candy from the big bowl in the kitchen when he thinks you're not looking.
-Honestly hates most Halloween decorations as they "hurt his eyes". He'll let you decorate the house, as long as you don't go overboard with the plastic nonsense.
-Fall colors are mostly boring to him, except red, maybe. You won't catch him in the decor section of your local supermarket, but you might find him in the produce aisle looking at pumpkins.
-Somehow, Vergil has grown to love pumpkin pie; it might be the only part of fall that he actually enjoys.
-While your attire is "spooky" to others, Vergil thinks you look very beautiful, like a dark queen--his dark queen.
□ Nero □
-Nero loved Halloween as a kid because it meant free candy. To this day, he still likes going out for Trick O Treating with the orphanage kids because he knows he will get free candy.
-Will help you decorate your house if you need it and likes to jumpscare you with fake spiders.
-Accompanies you to the store to look for whatever you need and ends up sneaking big bags of Halloween candy into your cart like a "stealthy" child.
-Likes fall colors, surprisingly, but he's not crazy enough to get your whole living room to match this one aesthetic.
-Really enjoys having scented candles for some reason; nearly every room in your house has at least one now.
-Thinks your fashion sense suits your personality perfectly. You're elegant and spooky, and Nero loves that.
● V ●
-V, being the goth poetry need that he is, enjoys Halloween as much as you are.
-Really enjoys those realistic ghost decorations that you can hang on your wall. Though they don't scare him, he finds them fascinating.
-Enjoys watching horror movies with you, even if neither of you are frightened by them.
-Fall colors are alright in his book, but you won't catch him donning an auburn sweater anytime soon.
-Will go with you to the store to pick out decorations but always gets lost whenever he ventures too far from you. You can usually find him in the outdoor furniture section, reading his book.
-Thinks that you look like the world's prettiest witch, and he uses that word in the best way possible.
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