#lemon

[daily-deliciousness]

Oven rotisserie chicken (faux tisserie chicken)

[fullcravings]

Lilac Lemon and Honey Cake

[soft-pxachy]

⤷  ❝voyeur❞ — jjk (s.m)

➤ Pareja: jungkook!voyeur x lectora!fem

➤ Recuento de palabras: 9.2k

➤ Género: voyerismo! smut y obscenidad!

➤ Resumen: La culpa de ser un mirón pervertido consumía a Jungkook cada día, no sabía admitir si eran sus propias tendencias voyeristas las que lo empujaban a mirar a escondidas a su vecina por su ventana, o si realmente ella estaba bromeando con él, de todas formas, todo era parte de tu elaborado plan para hacerlo enloquecer y jugar un poco con tu adorable vecino.

➤ Advertencias: 20+| lenguaje maduro y explícito | Jungkook es un mirón | masturbación | charla sucia | sexting | exhibicionismo | halagosy bromas durante el sexo | sexo oral (r. Jungkook) | juego y estimulación del clítoris | juguetes sexuales | mucha sobreestimulación | lágrimas | nalgadas | jalar del cabello | sexo duro | sexo sin protección | Jungkook tiene un gran pene!

➤ Si no eres mayor de 18 años, POR FAVOR, no leas. Si lo haces es bajo tu propia responsabilidad, ten en cuenta las advertencias.

♥︎ softpxachy's

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Jungkook sabía que estaba mal, Dios, él sabía que estaba mal, pero aquí estaba una vez más.

Actuando como si no tuviera la intención de dejar las persianas entreabiertas; inclinadas en el ángulo correcto que le permitía seguir viendo la vista que le otorgaba su propia ventana a solo unos cuantos metros de distancia.

Era divertido ahora, cuando compró la casa en la ciudad por primera vez, Jungkook odió lo cerca que estaban sus vecinos de él, y ahora aquí estaba, siendo un pervertido absoluto que estaba agradecido por la estrecha distancia entre sus edificios.

El autoproclamado pervertido con tendencias voyeristas, como se hacía llamar, simplemente se sentaba en su escritorio, revisando sin pensar demasiado en los correos electrónicos de su trabajo mientras sus ojos continúan mirando hacia arriba una y otra vez; observando a través de las ventanas de su habitación en busca de cualquier señal de movimiento al otro lado.

Podía sentir su pecho agitarse mientras esperaba, mirando el reloj en la esquina de su pantalla y viendo que a cada minuto la hora se acercaba más a las nueve de la noche y T/n, su vecina, aún no llegaba a casa.

Tal vez ella tenía planes para esta noche, salir con sus amigos, tal vez tenía una cita con algún chico, o simplemente salió a caminar, pero la mente demasiado preocupada para poder complacer un poco las sucias fantasías en la mente Jungkook lo tenían dándole vueltas a su cabeza. Le costaba admitirlo, pero se había convertido en su actividad diaria favorita echarle un vistazo a escondidas a su vecina, a veces viéndola hacer cosas simples como relajarse con una máscara facial o tener una fiesta de baile.

Por supuesto, todos esos momentos eran adorables, pero sus momentos favoritos eran aquellos en los que la miraba caminar por toda su casa en topless o cuando se cubría el cuerpo en loción después de una ducha, apenas logrando ver el destello de su piel brillando hermosamente y solo tentándolo a querer tocarla.

Incluso Jungkook podía asegurar que su vecina estaba llevando las burlas más allá de lo que él podía manejar; viéndola abrir las persianas de su habitación casi por completo y solo dejando que la cortina transparente se interpusiera entre él y su silueta sombreada, atrapándola en el acto de lo que solo su mente estimulada podía suponer que era ella mastubandose, y casi podía jurar que la vez que dejó una ventana abierta; pudo escucharla gimiendo tan hermosamente a sus oídos.

Y como era de esperarse, aquella vez tuvo una noche bastante acalorada con su mano, sus dominantes fantasías y la soledad de su habitación, dando fugaces vistazos hacia la ventana frente a él mientras frotaba su miembro duro a lo alto una y otra vez; alimentando su propia excitación y deseando que fuera T/n la que estuviera frente a él ayudándolo a calmar un poco el calor en su cuerpo que ella misma había instigado, y a decir verdad, ni él mismo entendía la fijación tan intensa que tenía por su vecina, solo sabía que la deseaba, demasiado, y sabía que se volvería loco en cualquier momento si no podía tenerla.

De cierta forma, Jungkook solía pensar que todo lo que pasaba era puramente accidental, solo una vecina descuidada que no tenía idea de que su habitación tenía la vista perfecta a la suya, pero Jungkook podía jurar que T/n había hecho contacto visual con él demasiadas veces como para que esto no fuera intencional.

Y antes de que su mente pudiera girar más en espiral, el repentino parpadeo de luz alumbrando el departamento frente a él lo hizo fijar sus ojos como un imán en su objetivo; viendo a T/n entrar a su habitación con una toalla pequeña sobre el hombro, un sostén deportivo y unos diminutos pantalones cortos para hacer ejercicio, mostrándole en primera fila como su piel y cuerpo brillaban en sudor.

Empujándose lejos de su escritorio, la silla rodó rápidamente a lo largo del piso para poder tener una mejor vista, completamente interesado en ver la forma en que su vecina intentaba relajarse y sentirse cómoda después de su viaje al gimnasio.

Llámenlo espeluznante o atento, pero Jungkook había aprendido horario de cada día de T/n;y de alguna forma sabía que ella disfrutaba dándole espectáculos, por lo que no fue difícil darse cuenta de la rutina habitual que tenía. Sin embargo, ésta era la primera vez que la veía regresar del gimnasio tan tarde.

Jungkook gimió de frustración al darse cuenta de eso, la palma de su mano frotó su rostro mientras podía escuchar sus propios pensamientos, casi comportándose como un hombre que tiene un cuaderno donde anota cada uno de sus horarios.

No lo tenía, pero aun así, se sentía como un pervertido. Un jodido pervertido.

Con los ojos bien cerrados, movió la silla de regreso al lugar que le correspondía como un niño avergonzado por sus pensamientos, inclinando su cuerpo hacia su computadora para evitar que sus ojos errantes miraran a través de la ventana una vez más, sintiendo como la vergüenza lo carcomía una vez más como lo hacía cada vez que caía en cuenta de su estado.

¿Realmente su vecina hacía esto a propósito?

Por supuesto que sí, T/n no era tonta.

Desde el momento en que Jungkook se mudó a su vecindario rápidamente se convirtió en la comidilla de la cuadra; las amas de casa suburbanas, las jóvenes adolescentes, incluso su vecino, el anciano del #13 comenzaron a preguntarse quién era el chico lindo que salía a correr por las mañanas.

Él gritaba atractivo sexual por todos lados, sin siquiera darse cuenta de lo desmayados que tenía a todos con su entrenamiento matutino, y no fue extraño que Jungkook pensara que todos lo saludaban y le sonreían por pura amabilidad, y aunque no tuviera idea de lo sexy que se veía, T/n había sido bendecida con el don de la buena vista y el sentido común. Sólo le tomó una mirada de él saliendo de su casa, con el cabello largo parcialmente atado hacia atrás y pantalones cortos para correr abrazando sus gruesos muslos que fácilmente T/n quedó encantada con él.

Y cuando se dió cuenta de que era su vecino de al lado, fue como si una bombilla se encendiera sobre su cabeza, ese simple hecho era una bendición disfrazada y T/n no iba a dejar pasar la oportunidad de que esto fuera a su favor. Darle un asiento de primera fila para ella y todo lo que tenía que ofrecer eran las cartas que escogió para jugar, y hasta ahora todo había ido de maravilla.

Eso fue hasta que salió de la ducha, podía sentir la emoción recorrer todo su cuerpo mientras se preguntaba cómo iba a burlarse de él esta noche. Con la toalla colgando holgadamente alrededor de su pecho T/n estaba lista para el pequeño espectáculo, pero cuando se colocó en su posición habitual, rápidamente notó que las persianas del departamento de Jungkook estaban bien cerradas, sin espacio entre ellas para permitirle verlo ni que pudiera verla.

Esta era una cadena de eventos repentina e inesperada, con un pequeño resoplido de decepción se sentó en el borde de su cama, directamente frente a la ventana mientras pensaba que sus planes descarados para esta noche se habían arruinado por completo.

Y prácticamente se pasó toda la noche preguntándose qué podría haber hecho que Jungkook no quisiera ver un poco de acción de su parte, así que cuando lo vió llegar a su casa de su rutina matutina justo cuando estaba punto de irse a su trabajo por la mañana, no lo pensó ni siquiera dos veces antes de hablarle.

Tuvo que reprimir soltar una risita al verlo estremecerse cuando lo saludó de buenos días, y no pudo encantarse más con la forma en que se puso nervioso al estar tan cerca de él.

— Ah, buenos días…— Jungkook respondió sonriendo cortésmente, al mismo tiempo que sacaba su AirPod para detener la música por completo y brindarle toda su atención sintiendo las palmas de sus manos sudar de repente, solo había hablado con ella una sola vez y no sabía a dónde iría esta conversación, ¿Acaso estaba a punto de llamarlo un pervertido repugnante?

— ¿Tuviste una noche tranquila? — T/n preguntó al instante formando una suave e inocente sonrisa que no revelaba sus verdaderas intenciones, pero Jungkook lo supo de inmediato, y la forma en que sus ojos se abrieron ligeramente ante sus palabras lo hicieron todo mucho más obvio.

— Sí…— Balbuceó a medias limpiándose las manos sudorosas en sus pantalones cortos negros, odiando la forma en que su corazón se aceleró al escucharla, ella lo sabía, y su culpable consciencia le hizo creer que lo que su vecina había hecho fue intencional para que él no se sintiera como el mirón que claramente era, pero escucharla admitir que sabía que no la había observado anoche lo hizo sentir como si le hubieran echado un balde de agua fría encima.— No he estado durmiendo muy bien últimamente, así que...

Y T/n simplemente asintió con la cabeza mientras él se desvanecía en una mentira, sus labios se abrieron en una sonrisita mientras lo miraba detenidamente, enfocándose en la apretada camisa que estaba usando y en la forma en que exponía por completo su brazo musculoso y cubierto de arte en forma de tatuajes, y cuando su vista bajó un poco más no pudo evitar imaginarse a ella misma brincando sobre su polla y sobre esos gruesos muslos una y otra vez, gimiendo de pura felicidad, tuvo que suspirar levemente ante esa fantasía dándose cuenta de que su vecino realmente estaba ciego a su buena apariencia.

— Lamento no haberte dado una buena bienvenida cuando te mudaste, ¿puedes darme tu número? — T/n habló al mismo tiempo que sacaba su teléfono de su bolso sabiendo muy bien que Jungkook no diría que no, pero aún así agregó una mentirita inocente para que su coqueteo fuera un poco más sutil.— Los vecinos tienen un chat grupal, te agregaré para que puedas obtener todos los chismes del vecindario.

Si Jungkook sabía que estaba mintiendo, no lo demostró, en cambio su semblante cayó a uno decepcionado de que T/n quisiera su número para agregarlo a un chat grupal del vecindario. Pero independientemente de eso se apresuró a recitar su número con una sonrisa y al momento su teléfono vibró en su palma con un mensaje de texto de ella; un amistoso "hola vecino" con un emoji saludando al final.

— Te enviaré un mensaje de texto si alguna vez necesito azúcar… u otras cosas de vecinos.— T/n agregó por lo bajo llamando su atención una vez más.

La provocación sugerente en su tono no se le escapó a Jungkook, sintiendo sus mejillas sonrojarse ante las implicaciones detrás de sus palabras, así que asintió con su cabeza mientras mordisqueaba levemente el piercing en su labio inferior antes de responder.

— Sí, lo que necesites.

Era cierto que Jungkook estaba aún más que decepcionado cuando el hilo de su mensaje se agotó por completo, y T/n ni siquiera lo había agregado al chat del grupo de chismes por el que tenía curiosidad. Ni siquiera le había dado un espectáculo desde la noche en que cerró las persianas, pero todo era parte del plan de T/n diseñado por expertos para ir a su favor.

Porque mientras estaba en su trabajo, recibió el correo electrónico que pondría todo en marcha, una notificación de que su paquete estaba listo para ser entregado. Un juguetito color rosa bebé muy lindo se colocaría en el escalón de su puerta en un paquete discreto y, si las cosas salían como T/n esperaba, haría su debut esta noche, con suerte con una audiencia de uno.

Jungkook se alejó de la pantalla de su computadora cuando su teléfono vibró sobre su escritorio, el nombre se iluminó en la pantalla de inicio e hizo una pausa por un momento, preguntándose si esto era simplemente un mensaje de texto de que había sido agregado a ese maldito chat grupal que no tenía idea de que en realidad no existía, pero cuando lo desbloqueó y abrió el chat, vio que solo era su vecina.

T/n: Hola Jungkook, lamento hacer esto, pero hoy me entregarán un paquete súper importante, ¿podrías mantenerlo seguro hasta que llegue a casa más tarde esta noche? 🥺🖤

Quería que cuidara un paquete, solo cosas de vecinos, exactamente por lo que le había dicho por la mañana.

Jungkook: Claro, ¿Qué es?

Y de inmediato se sintió estúpido después de presionar enviar, sus manos se cerraron en puños mientras miraba la pantalla, ¿Por qué demonios iba a preguntar qué era el paquete? Ser un mirón claramente no era suficiente, no, él tenía que saber acerca de sus compras en línea.

T/n: Solo algo para los músculos adoloridos 😅

Al igual que lo haría un típico adolescente cachondo, su mente vagó por lo que podría haber exactamente en la caja, y rápidamente le envió un mensaje de texto con un "¡bien! 👍🏻" antes de bloquear su teléfono por completo. Estaba seguro de que iba a perder la cabeza.

Todo según el plan.

Jungkook guardó ese paquete con su vida, colocándolo delicadamente en el mostrador de su cocina desde el momento en que vió que el cartero lo dejaba en la puerta de su vecina, y había estado pegado a su sofá desde entonces, mirando regularmente por encima de su hombro para asegurarse de que la caja marrón no fuera a desaparecer espontáneamente.

Y justo cuando estaba punto de mandar todo al carajo e intentar abrir la caja, unos suaves golpes en la puerta principal lo hicieron saltar de su sofá, deteniéndose a unos metros de la puerta mientras miraba la perilla antes de volver a mirar el paquete. ¿Debería saludar a su vecina con él en sus manos, o parecería que estaba tratando de alejarla rápidamente?

Cuando T/n tocó por segunda vez, Jungkook optó por abrir la puerta de una vez, viéndola allí de pie con esa sonrisa amistosa, vestida con una pequeña falda y top a juego, mostrándole que acababa de salir del trabajo, sus ojos rápidamente se posaron en sus piernas expuestas por un momento demasiado largo hasta que su voz lo sacó de eso.

— Hola, Jungkook…— T/n lo saludó con esa dulce voz de miel, y el pequeño brillo en sus ojos casi la traicionó pero él no lo notó.— ¿Recibiste mi paquete?

— Hola, sí lo hice.— Jungkook respondió encontrando su voz y dejando la puerta entreabierta, adentrándose más en su casa, recuperando rápidamente la caja y regresando con ella hacia su vecina que todavía lo esperaba pacientemente con esa sonrisa, como si no supiera lo que estaba empaquetado dentro de esa caja.

— ¡Eres un ángel! — T/n habló sosteniendo el paquete cerca de su pecho con un pequeño suspiro.— No sé qué habría hecho si me lo robaban…

Jungkook pudo sentir que su rostro se calentó de inmediato ante eso, incapaz de evitar que su boca funcionara en piloto automático, y sin querer mostrarse como un vecino extremadamente observador.

— Debes estar muy adolorida por ir al gimnasio todo el tiempo, ¿eh? — Preguntó y el silencio que vino después de su pregunta casi lo hizo querer golpearse la cara, casi pudo jurar que la mirada de T/n parpadeando con la misma picardía de antes se posó sobre él, haciéndolo tragar en seco.

— Definitivamente…— T/n respondió con una risa antes de regresar a su postura y despedirse de él.— Gracias de nuevo, ¡Que tengas una buena noche!

Y así como así, su vecina ya se había ido de su departamento, dejando a Jungkook con la frente presionada contra la puerta de la entrada mientras se sentía como todo un idiota. "¿De verdad, debes estar adolorida?" Se burló de su propia voz poniendo los ojos en blanco antes de enderezarse y retirarse a su habitación para terminar el trabajo que había descuidado por proteger el dichoso paquete.

El mismo paquete al que T/n se estaba aferrando mientras subía las escaleras de su casa con un par de tijeras en la mano opuesta, y no pudo evitar no sentirse como una mujer loca cuando las clavó en la cinta transparente para romper el sello, quitando las solapas antes de soltar una risita maliciosa cuando vio la elegante caja blanca con una foto del dispositivo impresa en el frente.

Se apresuró a sacar el preciado juguete, tirando descuidadamente las cajas vacías a un lado y escuchándolas aterrizar con un ligero ruido sordo al piso. La sensación de la silicona suave contra sus dedos la llenó de anticipación duplicada, y el clic silencioso contra el primer botón apagó la emoción en su cuerpo cuando se negó a encenderse.

— Malditos estúpidos cargadores.— T/n gruñó dejando el dispositivo de lado e inclinándose para buscar entre todas las cajas descartadas en el piso hasta dar con el diminuto cable blanco para enchufarlo.

El folleto que venía junto al juguete indicaba que la carga estaría completa en una hora, eso era mucho tiempo para que pudiera controlarse un poco, todo lo que necesitaba era abrir las persianas y encontrarse cara a cara con su vecino caliente y comenzar con la acción, pero ya se había divertido demasiado viéndolo todo nervioso, realmente no necesitaba asustarlo antes del evento principal.

Y claramente Jungkook no la estaba pasando nada bien mientras se deslizaba sin pensar a través de los datos interminables de su computadora frente a él, sus ojos flotaban a través de los números de una manera aturdida y su mente estaba demasiado ocupada pensando en ese estúpido paquete. Sabía exactamente lo que era, orgullosamente descifró el código de algo que era supuestamente algo para los músculos adoloridos para terminar deletreando vibrador en letras gigantes de color neón.

¿Lo estabas usando ahora, en tu dormitorio a un metro de distancia del suyo, sobre tu cama directamente en su línea de visión? Su mente continuaba representando todos esos escenarios lascivos uno tras otro y solo lo hacían desear estar contigo para comprobar si sus sospechas eran ciertas. Pero sabía que era algo imposible, algo que nunca pasaría, y eso era lo peor de todo para él.

Para cuando T/n terminó de darse una ducha y mientras aplicaba su loción corporal favorita notó como los botones del juguete rosa sobre su cama parpadeaban indicando la carga completa y sonrió sabiendo que su plan estaba de nuevo en marcha. Abrió lentamente las persianas de la ventana, formando un puchero al darse cuenta de que las de Jungkook estaban cerradas, miró hacia el cielo viendo cómo se oscurecía lentamente; formando nubes sobre su cabeza y una sonrisita se dibujó en sus labios mientras pensaba la forma perfecta para hacer que su vecino abriera las persianas para el espectáculo.

El teléfono de Jungkook vibró con un mensaje de texto unos segundos después, y sus ojos se abrieron un poco cuando se dió cuenta de que era de T/n.

T/n: Jaja, ¿Te parece que va a llover?

Su cabeza se inclinó hacia un lado con confusión ante su pregunta, sin embargo, se levantó de su escritorio, subiendo completamente las persianas para mirar al cielo y dándose cuenta de las nubes grises, miró su teléfono de nuevo para comenzar a escribir cuando el pequeño destello de movimiento desde el otro lado lo hizo congelarse en su lugar; viendo directamente a través de la ventana de T/n una vez más, ahí estaba; sentada en su cama y mirándolo con una sonrisa felina en todo su rostro.

Jungkook casi juro que se quedó sin aire cuando observó con atención su posición, con una pierna cruzada sobre la otra y descansando sobre sus palmas, con la cabeza inclinada hacia un lado mientras T/n lo saludaba con la mano, teniéndolo justo donde ella quería.

Su mano se elevó para devolverle el saludo, pero la voz en su cabeza estaba gritando todas las obscenidades que se le ocurrían y que quería hacerle a su vecina en ese preciso momento mientras intentaba sonreír a medias, y la mueca en su rostro casi le hizo difícil a T/n no reírse al verlo.

Empezó despacio, queriendo darle el tiempo suficiente para cerrar las persianas si realmente no quería participar en esto, su mano se levantó para comenzar a quitarse la bata de su hombro solo un poco más, apenas dejando expuesta una pequeña porción de su piel a los ojos de Jungkook, quien quería gritar al verla mientras su cabeza caía hacia adelante golpeando contra el vidrio de su ventana levemente viendo la forma en que su piel brillaba, sabiendo muy bien que se había aplicado aquella loción que siempre le encantaba ver.

Y cuando Jungkook no se movió de su posición, T/n dejó caer la otra manga de su bata, la hinchazón de sus senos sostuvo el suave material contra su piel, protegiéndolos de su vista por otro momento más, sus ojos no dejaban de ver el rostro de Jungkook, sabiendo que necesitaba ver la reacción de su vecino cuando se sentó derecha sobre la cama; haciendo que los extremos de su bata se deslizaran por su pecho y se acumularan en sus caderas, dejando sus senos completamente expuestos para que él los pudiera ver.

Y por supuesto la reacción de Jungkook valió la pena, abriendo sus labios levemente al ver la forma en que sus rosados pezones se endurecieron en el aire expuesto, su frente casi chocó contra la ventana una vez más cuando vió a T/n elevar una de sus manos para delinear el contorno de uno de sus pezones suavemente; acariciando su piel con calma y haciendo rodar su pezón entre sus dedos antes de darle un pequeño y juguetón pellizco, y Jungkook pudo sentir como su pene se agitó dentro de sus pantalones viendo a T/n dejar caer su cabeza hacia atrás y abrir sus labios para dejar escapar lo que él sabía era el gemido más bonito antes de volver a mirarlo fijamente y morderse el labio inferior.

Jungkook no sabía que hacer mientras seguía observándola, viendo hipnotizado la forma en que las curvas de su cuerpo resaltaban gracias a la bata color negro que todavía enganchada alrededor de sus codos, y fue ahi cuando la vio inclinarse hacia un lado de la cama para tomar el juguete color rosa que había comprado hoy, la tapa metálica brilló con la poca luz de su habitación y lo hizo tragar duro mientras la veía exhibirlo a él.

Por un momento, su atención se movió de la figura casi perfecta y mirada maliciosa de su vecina para aterrizar en su teléfono, viéndola escribir rápidamente un mensaje antes de dejarlo a un lado una vez más. Y al instante su teléfono cobró vida en su mano, casi asustándolo con las vibraciones.

T/n: Tócate, por favor.

Y Jungkook pudo jurar que soltó un gemido ahogado ante eso, sintiendo como todo el calor de su cuerpo se acumulaba en su creciente erección, apenas pudiendo escribir un rápido “bien” y enviarlo, un mensaje que T/n obviamente ignoró por completo mientras encendía el juguete. Un destello de emoción brilló en sus ojos sintiendo como el dispositivo vibraba en su mano, y sonrió divertida viendo a Jungkook mover sus dedos ansiosos hacia la hebilla de su pantalón, desabrochando el botón casi con torpeza justo cuando la vió comenzar a arrastrar la cabeza vibrante del juguete por su pecho, pasándolo sobre sus pezones levemente y haciéndola jadear por la sensación de cosquillas contra su piel.

La vista de T/n regresó a la ventana, notando la mirada de Jungkook clavada en ella, la silueta de su cuerpo estaba iluminada por la luz de su habitación, lo que le permitió ver sus manos bajar apresuradamente su pantalón llevándose su bóxer al mismo tiempo, viendo su como su erección salía disparada a lo alto, y le fue imposible no morder su labio inferior al verlo elevar su palma para escupir desordenadamente sobre sus dedos antes de volver a bajar y apretar la base de su pene para empezar a masajearlo lentamente de arriba a abajo notando como el pecho de Jungkook se agitaba con un resoplido cuando trasladó los movimientos de su mano hacia arriba y hacia la punta rosada e hinchada de su pene, cubriendo su palma con las gotas sueltas de líquido preseminal que goteaban por todo lo largo de su pene.

Eso solidificó aún más que Jungkook era un pervertido, al menos en su propia mente, quién más estaría tan ansioso por masturbarse a la vista de su vecina tan fácilmente. Pero sin embargo, T/n no lo veía así, más aún sabiendo que cada una de sus acciones tenían un propósito, Jungkook no era un pervertido por ser un chico predecible, solo estaba haciendo exactamente lo que ella quería que hiciera.

A medida que la punta del juguete bajaba por su pecho, T/n se tomó su tiempo sólo para verlo perder la cabeza un poco más; moviendo el juguete sobre su vientre hasta llegar a sus caderas, deslizándose hacia abajo al mismo tiempo que comenzaba a separar sus piernas tan lentamente que Jungkook no pudo apartar la mirada de ella, y cuando finalmente se reveló ante él, los pliegues húmedos de su entrada brillaron con su excitación ante sus ojos, cubriendo la parte interna de sus muslos y permitiendo que el juguete se deslizara con facilidad.

Jungkook gimió en voz alta viéndola pasar el juguete zumbante sobre su clítoris de a poco, casi en un toque similar a una pluma que fácilmente la hicieron temblar y gemir sobre la cama, su mano se apretó firmemente alrededor de su pene mientras su pelvis se movía hacia adelante a la par de sus movimientos, bombeandose a sí mismo y buscando desesperadamente un poco más de fricción, y ahí se dió cuenta de que T/n era el pecado personificado frente a él; dándole un espectáculo mientras jugaba con ella misma, separando sus labios en un gemido cuando finalmente presionó el juguete contra su clítoris firmemente; haciéndola jadear y retorcerse sobre la cama antes de que soltar una risita entrecortada por la sensación mientras volvía a mirarlo los ojos con timidez.

Joder, Jungkook sólo quería poder escucharla gimiendo de puro placer, solo podía pensar en lo que haría para poder tocar su piel, ser él quien sostuviera ese juguete contra su coño hasta que se retorciera de puro placer.

Y T/n podía verlo en sus ojos, ese deseo carnal nublando su visión mientras la miraba, con su mano aún bombeando su dura longitud cada vez más fuerte y su rostro arrugándose en muecas de placer, y cuando alejó el juguete de su entrada las cejas de Jungkook se fruncieron en desconcierto, liberando su pene de su agarre para colocar su palma pegajosa contra la ventana, preguntándose qué estaba planeando ahora mientras la veía alcanzar su teléfono una vez más.

A T/n sólo le tomó unos segundos escribir el mensaje y presionar enviar, volviendo a mirarlo con la misma mirada depredadora que había estado usando toda la noche, y cuando lo vió desbloquear su teléfono, se puso de pie, dejando que la bata se deslizara por completo de su cuerpo, cayendo alrededor de sus pies mientras se acercaba a la ventana, con los brazos cruzados debajo de su pecho para empujar sus senos hacia afuera mientras lo miraba.

T/n: Ven.

Jungkook leyó ese mensaje tres veces, todavía con su pene de fuera para que su vecina lo viera mientras contemplaba todas sus opciones, y finalmente, cuando elevó su vista de nuevo hacia arriba casi se ahogó al ver la forma en que T/n estaba parada frente a la ventana, completamente desnuda y con esa dulce y maliciosa sonrisa en sus labios, y eso fue suficiente para tomar su decisión; bloqueando su teléfono y gimiendo mientras deslizaba su polla dentro de su bóxer y volvía a ponerse los pantalones.

Los ojos de T/n brillaron cuando lo vió darse la vuelta y salir de su habitación, la luz se apagó cuando Jungkook bajó las escaleras hacia la puerta principal y cuando salió al porche vió que el suelo estaba húmedo, las pequeñas gotas de agua comenzaron a caer con más fuerza y el frío se deslizó a través de su ropa mientras caminaba a través de las entradas conectadas de los apartamentos, haciendo todo lo posible de cubrir con sus manos el bulto extremadamente prominente en sus pantalones.

— Gracias, dios…— Susurró por lo bajo con alivio cuando giró la perilla de la puerta y cuando esta se abrió, ni siquiera le importaron los modales cuando entró cerrando la puerta detrás de él, subiendo instantáneamente las escaleras de dos en dos, sabiendo ya dónde estaba su habitación ya que la casa era una copia exacta de la suya.

Y cuando finalmente empujó la puerta de la habitación para abrirla, fue bienvenido con la vista de T/n sentada en su cama, completamente desnuda y esperándolo con ese mismo juguete arrastrándose hacia arriba y hacia abajo por su abdomen haciéndolo jadear de solo verla así, la necesidad de presentaciones se desvaneció por completo cuando cruzó la habitación a pasos firmes hasta llegar donde ella para sentarse a su lado, fue rápido para ahuecar su rostro y atraerla hacia él para poder besarla con dureza de una buena vez.

T/n ni siquiera pudo reprimir el pequeño gemido ahogado que dejó escapar de pura sorpresa contra sus labios, su vecino normalmente tímido que se ponía nervioso cada vez que lo sorprendía mirándola fijamente no esperaba que fuera del tipo que perseguía lo que quería de esta manera, y la forma en que tomó el control de ese posesivo beso la hicieron apoyarse en su toque.

Sus labios eran suaves pero la forma en la que la estaba besando dejaban de lado toda ternura, y tembló contra él cuando su caliente lengua se unió a la de ella, chocando la una con la otra y llenando el espacio con sonidos húmedos y respiraciones pesadas.

A menudo T/n había fantaseado con besarlo, preguntándose si Jungkook era del tipo que se burlaba, el que retrocedía y te dejaba con ganas de más, pero la desesperación en su cuerpo era la que guiaba sus movimientos justo ahora y la que le imped��a no cumplir sus propios deseos. Jungkook la besaba con pura pasión, y el hambre dentro de él lo llevó a empujar su cuerpo hacia atrás y hacerla caer sobre la cama de espaldas, sus manos bajaron para sujetar suavemente su cuello y un nuevo gemido escapó de T/n al sentirlo, haciéndola arrojar el juguete hacia un lado y llevar sus manos hacia su cabello, deslizando sus dedos entre su largo cabello negro cuando lo sintió mordisquear su labio inferior.

— Quítatela…— T/n murmuró contra su boca, arrastrando sus manos por su pecho y tirando con fuerza de la tela de su camisa, decidida a arrancarla de él para finalmente poder ver su glorioso cuerpo y solo ganándose otro rápido y húmedo beso de Jungkook antes de verlo arrodillarse frente a ella para quitarse su camisa por el cuello, dejando cada centímetro de su piel expuesta a sus ojos.

T/n ni siquiera podía apartar la mirada de la forma en que sus músculos se ondearon y se tensaron cuando tiró la tela negra hacia un lado, abultándose cuando finalmente se relajó, ni siquiera pudo evitar no relamerse sus labios cuando pasó sus dedos entre cada surco de su abdomen, y una especie de jadeo pesado salió de sus labios cuando trasladó su atención a las líneas de cada uno de sus tatuajes por todo lo largo de su brazo hasta llegar a su hombro, antes de escucharlo soltar una risita oscura.

— ¿Te gusta lo que ves? — Jungkook preguntó con su voz ronca mirándola con sus ojos entrecerrados y mordisqueando su labio inferior dándole un repaso a todo su cuerpo, sintiendo su boca salivar al notar el rápido ascenso y descenso de sus senos con cada respiración que daba y la forma en que sus caderas se movían hacia arriba; buscando cualquier tipo fricción que pudiera encontrar.

— Eres jodidamente irreal.— T/n admitió en medio de un jadeo dándole un par de caricias más en su abdomen antes de ponerse de rodillas frente a él y comenzar a desabrocharle los pantalones, con toda la prisa por ver su polla sin la distancia que los separaba.

— Esto es lo que querías, ¿no? — Jungkook preguntó con firmeza, dándose cuenta de todo y con su mirada completamente desfasada en su rostro y en el movimiento rápido de sus manos, los textos perfectamente ejecutados y la entrega del paquete, solo sabiendo que había hecho todo lo que querías que hiciera.

— Fue divertido, ¿verdad, Jungkook? — T/n preguntó de la misma forma, bajándole los pantalones de un solo tirón junto a su bóxer para lanzarlos junto a su camisa en el suelo.— ¿Dime, qué te gustó más? ¿Verme hacer cosas cotidianas o mirarme tocándome y jugando conmigo misma?

Jungkook ni siquiera tuvo tiempo de responder cuando un gemido ahogado se le escapó de sus labios al sentirla envolver una de sus manos alrededor del duro eje de su pene, comenzando a bombearlo de arriba abajo una y otra vez mientras lo interrogaba, disfrutando de la forma en que luchaba por responder a sus preguntas.

— Dios, eres tan sucia…— Gruñó apretando su mandíbula al verla inclinar su cuerpo a la altura de su pelvis, quedando frente a frente con su enorme erección antes de clavar su mirada sobre él mientras pasaba la punta de su lengua por sus labios, justo antes de verla sonreírle con total astucia.

Y esa misma sonrisa le hizo saber que ella sabía muy bien que lo era, T/n sabía exactamente lo sucia que era llegando al punto de usar todo a su favor solo para obtener lo que quería, Jungkook contuvo el aliento mientras observaba la forma en que T/n avanzaba poco a poco hacia él, sacando la lengua para lamer suavemente la punta hinchada de su pene; atrapando la gota salada de líquido preseminal que amenazaba con escurrirse por todo lo largo para saborearlo con hambre, escuchándolo gemir sobre ella.

Y eso fue suficiente para envolver sus labios alrededor de su grosor por completo; haciendo rodar su lengua varias veces en la punta rosada antes de darle una ligera succión y comenzar a mover su cabeza de arriba abajo por todo lo largo de su pene, Jungkook soltó un suspiro al sentir el calor envolviendo todo de él, amando la forma en la que la humedad y calidez de su lengua lo cubría por completo haciéndolo tensar su abdomen evitando empujar su pelvis hacia su boca.

El pequeño gemido que T/n dejó escapar contra su longitud al sentir su pene duro y caliente sobre su lengua la hicieron envolver su mano en la base para estabilizarse mientras movía su cabeza una vez más hacia abajo, tratando de tomar todo de él, pero era tan jodidamente grande y estaba cien por ciento segura que esto era mucho más satisfactorio que verlo masturbarse a unos metros de distancia, los suspiros y gruñidos que brotaban de sus bonitos labios la animaban a seguir adelante, deseando verlo desmoronarse solo por ella.

Jungkook ni siquiera supo en qué momento sus manos se enredaron en su cabello; tirando con la suficiente fuerza de sus mechones para guiar sus movimientos de arriba hacia abajo por todo lo largo de su longitud, marcando un ritmo firme y constante; los sonidos húmedos y obscenos inundaron todo su cuerpo y solo lo hicieron obligarla a moverse con más fuerza, empujando su cabeza contra su pene y follando su boca con fuerza una y otra vez, gruñendo guturalmente al sentir como su garganta se cerraba alrededor de su punta en una audible arcada y formó una sonrisa cuando se encontró con su rostro, viendo sus ojos llenos de lágrimas y su nariz presionada contra su ingle mientras gemía alrededor de su polla, y estaba seguro que te veías tan bonita así.

Jungkook la apartó de su pene unos segundos después, el húmedo jadeo que T/n dejó escapar rasgó el aire mientras intentaba recuperar el aliento sin borrar esa sonrisa burlona de su rostro mientras observaba su longitud desordenada y húmeda balanceándose ligeramente de lado a lado con cada movimiento que hacía, sintió a Jungkook inclinarse sobre ella y a su mano tomarla por su mejilla con total ternura.

— Joder, apuesto a que te ves tan bonita cuando lloras…— Murmuró por lo bajo pasando su pulgar por su labio inferior hinchado y resbaladizo, notando las pequeñas lágrimas en sus ojos y en sus pestañas inferiores, casi a punto de deslizarse por sus mejillas.

— Hazlo.— T/n susurró sintiendo como el tono ronco de su voz hizo que su estómago se retorciera y que más humedad cubriera sus muslos, sonriendo cuando vió sus cejas levantarse en forma de pregunta.— Hazme llorar Jungkook.

Y Jungkook juró que sintió su polla palpitar ante sus palabras, queriendo nada más hacer lo que T/n le pedía, convertirla en un desastre de llanto mientras rogaba que la follara con fuerza.— ¿Estás segura?

Con un pequeño asentimiento T/n se arrastró hacia atrás sobre la cama antes de girarse sobre tus manos y rodillas, arqueando su espalda y poniendo su trasero en pompa; exponiendo su entrada húmeda frente a Jungkook justo antes de mover sus caderas levemente de lado a lado.— Estoy segura.

Y Jungkook no necesitó nada más convincente que eso, envolviendo una mano en su pene para bombearse un par de veces mientras se acercaba a ella, colocando sus rodillas entre sus muslos y siseando cuando apoyó su polla contra su húmedo coño comenzando a rodar su pelvis una y otra vez hacia enfrente; haciendo que la punta se deslizara entre sus pliegues con cada movimiento y escuchándola gemir cuando rozó su necesitado clítoris un par de veces antes de alinearse correctamente en su entrada y empujar su pelvis; presionándose dentro de ella poco a poco.

Los ojos de T/n se cerraron con fuerza ante la sensación, sus manos apretaron con fuerza las sabanas mientras sentía a Jungkook deslizar cada centímetro de su longitud dentro de ella, ajustando su interior a su tamaño y llenándola de una forma tan deliciosa, un gemido de placer goteó de sus labios cuando Jungkook le dio un tirón a sus caderas hacia su pelvis, asegurándose de que todo su pene estuviera dentro de ella, apenas deteniéndose para respirar correctamente, viendo hipnotizado la forma en que su coño lo tomaba, amoldándose tan bien a su alrededor como si estuviera destinado a estar allí.

— Esto es…— T/n balbuceó por lo bajo, quejándose cuando sintió a Jungkook deslizarse un poco hacia fuerza antes de recibir una nueva y rotunda embestida.— Así es como me lo imaginé…— Agregó en medio de un jadeo antes de soltar una risita baja que despertó el interés de Jungkook, inclinándose sobre su cuerpo para verla con la cara presionada contra las sábanas y una sonrisa burlona en su rostro.

— ¿Si? — Jungkook preguntó con su voz aireada y apretando el agarre en su trasero; clavando sus dedos en su piel y sin duda marcándolos para que los pudiera ver más tarde.— ¿Te imaginaste siendo follada por detrás por tu vecino?

— Mhm-hu…— T/n musitó sin poder evitar la risa ahogada que salió de sus labios cuando Jungkook comenzó a follarla con fuerza, saliendo casi por completo de su interior solo para volver a introducirse en una dura penetración, haciendo que el sonido de sus pieles chocando se mezclara con su risa y gemidos.

— Lo sabía…— Jungkook gruñó mientras deslizaba una de sus mano por toda su espalda desnuda hasta llegar a su nuca; rodeando su cuello con sus dedos hasta que su palma presionó su cara contra el colchón con fuerza, sosteniendo su cuerpo debajo de él mientras sus penetraciones se volvían más duras y desordenadas.— Sabía que lo estabas haciendo a propósito, joder, ¿sabes lo culpable que me sentí? — Un nuevo gruñido salió de sus labios al sentir su interior apretarse ante sus palabras, deleitándose con los sonidos húmedos y lascivos de su coño cada que volvía a hundirse dentro de ella cada vez más fuerte.

— L-lo siento…— T/n susurró con falsa inocencia en su voz rota por sus bruscos movimientos, pero Jungkook sabía que no lo decía enserio y la sonrisa juguetona que se sintió contra su palma le dió la razón.

— Oh, ¿lo sientes? — Jungkook preguntó tomando un puñado de su cabello y dándole un tirón hacia atrás con fuerza, escuchándola gimotear feliz cuando aceleró aún más el ritmo de sus penetraciones dentro y fuera de ella, sabiendo que había encontrado el ritmo correcto cuando la vió arquear su espalda más para él; rozando ese punto dulce en su interior una y otra vez, T/n podía sentir las primeras chispas de su orgasmo destellando dentro de ella, y el hecho de que obtuviera lo que quería la acercaba al límite más rápido de lo esperado.

— No, no lo siento.— admitió gimiendo descaradamente con cada embestida. De ninguna manera se arrepentía, si este fuera el resultado, haría todo de nuevo y exactamente de la misma manera.

— Sé que no lo haces, te encantó montar un espectáculo para mí, eh, sabiendo que te estaba mirando desde mi ventana mientras jodías conmigo.— Jungkook escupió deshaciéndose de la culpa que alguna vez llegó a sentir, soltando su cabello y viéndola colapsar de nuevo sobre el colchón, su mano volvió a presionar su cabeza contra las sábanas ahora siendo reemplazada por hambre pura que sólo aumentó cuando sus gemidos comenzaron a volverse más entrecortados, calientes y pesados contra su mano.

Sus palabras fácilmente hicieron que la mente de T/n diera vueltas, el balanceo embriagador de sus caderas contra su trasero la estaban arrastrando al mismo estado de desesperación en el que Jungkook estaba, fueron semanas de tortura sin sentido que los alimenta a ambos con más que suficiente frustración sexual para follarse como tantas veces habían deseado e imaginado.

— Me encantó hacerlo…— T/n se quejó en medio de un nuevo gemido roto sintiendo como su cara era empujada con más fuerza contra las sábanas, la aspereza que Jungkook le estaba mostrando hacía que su estómago se retorciera, como pudo se las arregló para abrir sus muslos más para él y dejó escapar un gemido tembloroso cuando lo sintió hundirse más profundamente en ella rozando ese punto dulce en su interior con cada rotunda embestida que daba solo arrastrandola al borde.

T/n iba a correrse, Jungkook lo supo por la forma en que su cuerpo se tensó, por la forma en que sus paredes se cerraron a su alrededor haciéndolo maldecir mientras continuaba embistiéndola, sin poder evitar sonreír al escucharla gemir con fuerza ante otra dura penetración; viéndola tirar de las sabanas con desesperación hasta que de repente, la sintió correrse alrededor de su polla con un grito de su nombre.

— J-joder, Jungkook…— Gimió una vez más sintiendo sus piernas temblar con la fuerza de su orgasmo, escuchando a Jungkook gruñir detras de ella sintiendo como todo su interior aprisionaba su pene dentro de ella, goteando por sus muslos y cubriendo su pene por completo con su orgasmo; dejándolo resbaladizo con su excitación y solo haciéndolo tararear de puro gusto.

Jungkook no perdió ni un segundo saliendo de su interior para girar su cuerpo hacia él, haciéndose espacio en entre sus muslos necesitando ver su rostro mientras se volvía a hundirse de nuevo dentro de ella en una deliciosa penetración, amando el suave gemido que T/n dejó escapar cuando tocó fondo una vez más, sus brazos se envolvieron alrededor de sus fuertes hombros cuando comenzó a moverse dentro de ella antes de sentirlo volver a estampar sus labios juntos.

El gusto salado de su transpiración potenció mil veces más su excitación, todo era tan carnal y tan sucio, el calor de sus cuerpos se fusionaba con cada empujón duro y decidido que Jungkook daba dentro de ella, sus lenguas calientes se juntaron, pero apenas y pudieron mantener la unión a causa de los desesperados jadeos en busca de oxigeno, y fue ahí cuando Jungkook se alejó solo un poco para poder mirarla; formando una sonrisa aturdida al ver su rostro sonrojado y su cabello húmedo cayendo sobre sus ojos, y T/n apenas y pudo sostenerle la mirada; admirando cada una de las expresiones de placer que hacía, creando un espectáculo privado tan erótico y sensual solo para ella.

— Quiero hacerte llorar…— Jungkook confesó inclinándose sobre ella para besar una vez más sus labios al mismo tiempo que su mano derecha golpeaba la cama torpemente hasta que encontró lo que estaba buscando, ese maldito vibrador que había guardado con su vida antes.

En el momento en que las pequeñas vibraciones llegaron a los oídos de T/n sus ojos se abrieron de par en par, apenas captando la sonrisa malvada en los labios de Jungkook mientras sostenía el juguete entre sus cuerpos, jugueteando con los ajustes hasta que las vibraciones fueron lo suficientemente bajas como para comenzar.— Espera Jungkook, soy muy sensible…

— Me dijiste que te hiciera llorar, ¿no es así, bebé? — Jungkook recordó comenzando a arrastrar la cabeza del juguete por su vientre y por su monte de venus lentamente, burlándose de ella mientras llegaba poco a poco al lugar deseado.

La emoción atravesó el cuerpo de T/n una vez más, haciéndola soltar un jadeo tembloroso cuando la cabeza del juguete apenas y rozó su sensible clítoris, todo su cuerpo se sacudió de placer y su interior se apretó con fuerza alrededor de su polla haciendo que Jungkook cerrara los ojos ante la sensación, volviendo a presionar el vibrador contra su pequeño clítoris, los ajustes bajos hicieron un zumbido a través de ella y sus uñas se hundieron en sus hombros.

— ¡Ah, Jungkook! — T/n lloriqueó su nombre una vez más, sintiendo su pecho agitarse con cada desesperada respiración que daba cuando Jungkook comenzó a follarla de nuevo; haciéndola girar sus caderas hacia arriba y contra su pelvis, sin saber exactamente si quería alejarse del juguete o presionarlo con más fuerza, el ligero dolor entre sus cuerpos rápidamente se transformó en placer cuanto más sentía su pene moviéndose dentro de ella.

— ¿Qué pasa, cariño? — Jungkook preguntó con falsa inocencia, elevando los ajustes del juguete hasta que un gemido particularmente fuerte resonó en la habitación, haciéndolo reír al sentir sus muslos apretarse en su cintura por reflejo, pero él sabía que a T/n le estaba encantando esto, con sus dientes mordisqueando su labio inferior mientras lo miraba con sus ojos llenos de lágrimas, instándolo a follarla más fuerte, rogándole silenciosamente por más.

Y por supuesto que Jungkook hizo lo que T/n mudamente le pedía, empujando sus caderas dentro de ella con la fuerza suficiente para empujar su cuerpo contra la cabecera de la cama, creando un audible y repetitivo golpeteo contra la pared que estaba seguro despertaría a más de uno de sus vecinos, pero eso le importaba una mierda, demasiado perdido en las olas de placer que se mezclaban con las vibraciones contra su clítoris. Jungkook podía sentir su propio orgasmo acercándose sigilosamente a él, arrastrándose por su columna vertebral con cada embestida húmeda y con cada gemido de su nombre.

Con unos cuantos clics más el vibrador alcanzó la configuración más alta, zumbando intensamente contra su sensible clítoris y casi haciéndola golpearse ante la sensación repentina, arqueando su espalda hacia el pecho de Jungkook mientras jadeaba una serie de cosas sin sentido que ni ella misma entendía, solo escuchándolo reír sin dejar de verla mientras presionaba el juguete con más fuerza.— ¿Vas a correrte de nuevo en mi polla, bebé?

— Jungkook…— T/n volvió a lloriquear su nombre buscando desesperadamente con sus manos sujetarse de su cuerpo, necesitando algo que la conectara de nuevo a tierra del abrumador placer al que estaba siendo sometida.

— Vamos, quiero verte llorar…— Jungkook la animó una vez más, observando con asombro cómo su cuerpo se tensaba por completo por un momento, sabiendo muy bien que estaba a punto de correrse de nuevo.

— Joder, joder...— T/n gimoteó sintiendo como sus palabras se mezclaban con los espasmos de su orgasmo brotando alrededor de su pene, sintiendo todo su cuerpo temblar cuando la sensación de euforia la inundó por completo, sus cejas se fruncieron mientras maullaba ante la sensación de su orgasmo llegando al punto máximo y fue ahí cuando las lágrimas finalmente se derramaron por sus mejillas, sintiendo todos sus sentidos abrumados por la cantidad de placer que sentía.

— Tan jodidamente perfecta…— Jungkook murmuró ante las altas vibraciones que se sentía contra su pene, el aleteo de sus paredes aterciopeladas evitaban que quisiera apagar el vibrador, deslizándolo un poco más cerca de su entrada hasta que él también jadeo.

— Es demasiado…— T/n suplicó por lo bajo, mirándolo con sus ojos empañados y aún llorosos de placer, los labios de Jungkook se abrieron en un gemido silencioso cuando aumentó sus embestidas buscando su propia liberación y elevó su mano libre para ahuecar su mejilla y poder limpiar las lágrimas perdidas que habían caído sobre su piel, corroborando que realmente te veías bonita cuando llorabas.

— Ya casi llego bebé, ¿estás bien? — Jungkook preguntó en medio de un suspiro, cerrando los ojos al sentir su interior palpitar alrededor de su longitud.

Su preocupación hizo sonreír a T/n, asintiendo levemente mientras colocaba su mano sobre la de él, luchando un poco más con la hipersensibilidad de él para obtener su propia liberación.— Sí, córrete dentro de mí, por favor…

Y Jungkook gimió en respuesta a sus palabras, deslizando el vibrador más abajo hasta que descansó contra la base de su pene, las fuertes vibraciones se arrastraron por todo lo largo de su longitud en cada una de sus desordenadas y torpes embestidas que daba dentro de ella, y cada zumbido solo hizo que su cuerpo se estremeciera.

— Ah, mierda…— Jungkook gruñó empujando su pelvis contra su coño con más urgencia, hundiéndose dentro de ella descuidadamente, sus ojos se abrieron hacia ella mientras llegaba, y la mirada llena de lujuria que T/n le dio fue todo lo que necesitó para dejarse ir por completo.

Un gemido murió en su garganta cuando se hundió dentro de ella lo más profundo que pudo con una descuidada y fuerte embestida, sintiendo como los chorros clientes y espesos de semen brotaban de su punta; llenando su interior y empujándose superficialmente unas cuantas veces más para asegurarse que todo estuviera dentro de ella hasta que finalmente se detuvo de a poco para apagar el juguete con sus manos temblorosas, lanzándolo a un lado de la cama sin cuidado antes de colapsar sobre el cuerpo de T/n en puro dramatismo. Ni siquiera se preocupó por su peso sobre ella y solo se concentró en tratar de recuperar el aliento mientras sentía a T/n pasar sus dedos entre su cabello húmedo.

— Me siento sudoroso y sé que hice un desastre en tus sábanas.— Jungkook murmuró después de unos segundos, con su mejilla presionada contra sus senos y los ojos cerrados mientras intentaba darle sentido a todo lo que acababa de pasar.

— Está bien, me gusta el desorden.— T/n respondió de la misma forma, y aunque parecía ser una broma, la forma en que el pene de Jungkook palpitó aún dentro de ella demostraba que él se tomaba en serio todo lo que decía.— Eres un pervertido.

— ¿Yo soy el pervertido? — Jungkook se burló sintiéndose completamente ofendido mientras salía de su interior, y cuando la vió asentir con su cabeza no pudo evitar soltar una risa y señalarla con su dedo.— ¡Lo dice la que me daba espectáculos gratis todas las noches!

— No es mi culpa que seas fácil de atrapar, te enganchaste en el segundo que me viste tener esa fiesta de baile aquí, ¿eh? — T/n preguntó de forma divertida y Jungkook asintió de inmediato sabiendo exactamente de qué noche estaba hablando.

— Bien, ¿Qué debería hacer ahora? — Jungkook preguntó poniéndose de pie y entrando al baño para tomar una toalla, pensando que lo mínimo que podía hacer era limpiar el desastre que había causado entre tus muslos.— ¿Debería enviarte un mensaje de texto sobre el clima mañana, y llamarte a mi departamento esta vez? Dejaré que me ahorques si te gusta eso.— Agregó de una forma tan casual que hizo que T/n soltara una risa ante sus palabras.

— ¿Te gusta eso? — T/n preguntó sintiéndolo limpiar con calma sus muslos y alrededor de su entrepierna, sintiéndose más que sorprendida cuando lo vió regalarle una mirada traviesa.

— Tal vez...— Jungkook agregó antes de formar un guiño coqueto, regresándole la bata y colocándose su bóxer de nuevo para dejarse caer sobre la cama a su lado.

T/n estaba segura que eso era algo con lo que podía trabajar, pensando en la próxima vez que torturaría a su vecino, preguntándose cómo se verían sus manos envueltas alrededor de su cuello, quién sabe, tal vez podría ver si se veía bonito cuando lloraba.

Y por supuesto que Jungkook notó la travesura en todo su rostro, pero antes de que pudiera sugerir una segunda ronda, había una cosa que lo estaba devorando por completo.— Por cierto, nunca me agregaste a ese grupo de chismes de los vecinos.

Los labios de T/n se fruncieron en una sonrisa tensa mientras sus manos regresaban a su cabello, haciendo girar un dedo alrededor de un mechón suelto y tratando de aguantar la risa, sabiendo muy bien que tal grupo no existía en absoluto, pero no estaba de humor para aplastar su espíritu, sabiendo que él quería desesperadamente conocer los chismes del vecindario, así que simplemente se encogió de hombros en una falsa disculpa, diciendo otra mentirita piadosa.

— Mi error, te agregaré mañana.

Y Jungkook sonrió en respuesta inclinándose para presionar un beso contra su muslo, mientras en su mente también se imaginaba cuán lindas se verían tus manos alrededor de su cuello.

N/A: He vuelto por aquí titis🥺 yo sé que no me van a perdonar haber desaparecido así como así pero espero poder recompensar mi ausencia con este OneShot que muchas de ustedes me pedían que publicará de Jungkook y su vecina y no podía decirles que no porque estos dos me tienen mal sooo les prometo publicar la segunda parte de este oneshot muy pronto ♡

Una disculpa enormee por la tardanza, la vida de adulto no es muy bonita que digamos 🥺

Prometo estar más seguido por aquí ♡

taglist: @guvgguk @lessuwu @cometaart @AnnieKCV @darysnowflwr @nunubly @choco-linny @aavacaf @wtffktt7 @minmin-cat @18fernanda @ariggukie @Katherine Murillo

@lizxz @onixbae02 @piligt @youtis @tessacereza

[innocentsandsofdreams]

John Price x Reader Head Canons

Tags: soft Price, Price x Reader, reader is not gender specified, slight birth description, reader is higher rank than 141

Word Count: 826

Any ageless or minor blogs DNI

SFW

Honestly, how you and John got together was comical. Laswell had to call you in for help (against everyone's choice) and you came.

During the mission, you and Price was a squad and no one (not even the both of you) knew what happened

An explosion was set off and you and John were sent flying; you landed on each other and rolled down a hill and you eventually stopped. You're on top of Price laying on him, inches from his face. How movie cliche is that?

John remarks "You know, the least you could do is ask a man to dinner before laying on 'im"

"Well how about after this mission, you pick a restaurant and I'll pay", you say playfully.

John actually took you up on your offer -against everyone's groans of "cheap cliche".

Now 10 years later; having been married for five years, people start asking "Oh have you thought about starting a family?"

Well, both of you thought of it. Both of you didn't know how to bring it up. Finally, it came to a boiling point

On a date in a park, you and Price laid on a blanket in the grass

Just listening to the laughter of parents with their children, surrounding the both of you

Both of you blurt out, "Do you want to have kids with me?"

A moment passed and you both laugh. Elated both of you want the same thing.

Interested, John suggests you both go home and start trying

NSFW

He's an old school gentleman; walks you home and cooks you, dinner. Price just overall set the mood- what a standup guy™

Afterwards Price led you to the bedroom. He takes his time with you. After this, he tries to take his time, but it doesn't work out that way

Mans eats you out like a munch if you will. Live and die in between your legs like a three-course meal. Price swallow your juices like it was a desert oasis

John slowly fingers you, not wanting to stop eating you out yet

It takes you 2 orgasms and a lot of begging for him to come around and fuck you. finally

Putting multiple pillows under you; John puts your legs on his shoulders and starts driving his cock into you with a goal in mind

After relentlessly abusing your soppy hole, Price fills you with his cum and he is so horny happy just from the thought of it

Multiple trysts of deep fuckings and quickies, having been fucked one last morning before the sun came up; your efforts came to fruition

PREGNANCY

John has you go to a med bay and do at home pregnancy tests religiously until finally one of the at home tests came back positive. He was so thrilled, that to make sure, you guys got medically checked out and the tests do not lie my dearheart; you are with child

John supports you through everything with the pregnancy; the sickness, the fainting spells, the cravings, the emotions. He's just happy to be with you

All though he never judges (or at least tries not to) he really does side eye the ice cream and pickle juice

[inserts meme of the girl staring at the man's chest with big side eyes]

That being said, Price went through it all with you. For you

John loves you and his baby so much, if he could stop the world he would

Near the end of your pregnancy gets very distressed and never lets you do anything. He's on everything like a HAWK

Being so close to your due date, you thought the baby would be late; but no, you were so wrong

Your water broke a week early, in the early morning

It's 3AM and John thought you might have wet the bed. In all honesty you did too.

Then the contractions started and both of you realized it was the amniotic fluid

Price having over prepared the hospital bag, (since you guys were first expecting) took you to the closest hospital

You are screaming and squeezing the hell out of Price's hand (poor hand) as he's driving

Upon arrival John miraculously carried you inside and got you a room before even thinking of moving the car and grabbing the bag

After being situated John goes and grabs everything and then goes and park the car. Upon return, the man got everything you ever needed and more

Need to move around? Man is getting you up. Need ice chips? Already in hand

Eventually choosing the process of water birth, John got in with you, behind you of course so he can take care of you

Hours go by and finally the baby arrives in this world

Having you hold the baby for only a moment, John let the nurses take the baby and helps you out the tub

He helped you get dressed and helped with getting into bed before bringing the baby to you

Having held his baby, he can't help but crawl in bed with you and hold the baby between the two of you

(he's definitely not crying - lying)

Man is in for a treat ✨😌

[spyroforlife]

Bigger is Better

Jimmy likes them big. Scar is able to provide, but Jimmy cheekily suggests using the current wildcard effect to get even bigger. Well if that's how he wants to play. Scar's gonna give him exactly what he asked for. Rating: Explicit Word Count: 4,133 One-Shot

hello Wild Life SMP enjoyers. I bring you Scaridarity (is that their ship name?? idk) size difference smut. huzzah

[daydreamtofiction]

The Feature XXI // Benedict Cumberbatch x Reader

Series Overview | Previous Part | First Part

Chapter Summary: (Female Reader) While on assignment at another glamorous event, Quinn takes the opportunity to have some fun. Though it doesn't quite go the way she'd hoped.

Chapter Word Count: 8K

Chapter Warnings: Morally-grey reader, strong language, adult and sexual themes, tones of jealousy and possessiveness, fake event, op-ed excerpts contain graphic imagery. Quinn back at it again with her nightmarish antics. Readers must be 18+

Join the Tag List Here*

Julia would bounce her knee when she sat at her desk; one leg crossed over the other, the heel of her Louboutin slingback clinking against the table leg with an irritating rhythm. You were sitting across from her as she read your final draft, your gaze focused on the blood red sole of her shoe, the remnants of the discount sticker she hadn’t fully peeled off. 

She placed the papers on the desk and cleared her throat. You looked up at her, only then realising you’d been making a face; eyes narrowed, lip curled disdainfully. It wasn’t intentional, your face just settled that way sometimes. So you softened your edges, rounding your eyes and relaxing your jaw as you waited for her to speak.

“Quinn…” she sighed.

Your thorns quickly returned; lids turning heavy with indignation as you rolled your shoulders and pressed your back into the chair.

“You know what I’m going to say,” she continued with a patronising smile. “It’s well written, there’s no denying that, but it’s not going in the mag.”

“Why not?” you asked bluntly. 

She picked up the papers and licked her thumb, using it to flick to the second page where she began to read aloud. “I just wanted those men to stop looking at me. I wanted to erase myself, piece by piece, I imagined my face sloughing away, then my arms, my breasts, until there was nothing left but a pool of flesh and marrow where I’d once stood. But then, I thought, would they even care? Or would they still find pleasure in my remains; dig their hands into the slurry and let it slip between their fingers. And that scared me more than disappearing altogether...”

You blinked at her, waiting for her to explain the problem. But the way she was looking at you made it seem like you should have already known. 

“It’s quite graphic,” she said.

“It’s a metaphor.” 

“Yes, obviously I understand that. But it’s not the most pleasant of visuals, is it? Really, the topic of the op ed on a whole, it’s- It’s dark, heavy-”

“It’s about gender, sex, inequality, how I’ve learned to navigate society as a woman, it’s not meant to be all bubblegum and rainbows. And it’s not like the magazine hasn’t shed light on these kinds of topics before.” You shrugged.

“Yes but not this… Brutally.” 

You furrowed your brow. 

She sighed, flicking to another page. “I thought sex was supposed to make me human, make me whole. But in the end, he was just a prop, an object. They all were. I could always tell they wanted me to love them, and they thought I might if they gave me everything. But nothing ever seemed worth taking.” She looked at me. “You can’t seriously think Draft would publish this?”

“It’s an op ed,” you said, your tone growing snippy. “It’s supposed to be personal, subjective, opinionated-”

“But there’s a fine line, Quinn, between sharing your views and experiences on important topics and oversharing to the point where it becomes disturbing and completely indigestible for readers.”

“Disturbing?” You breathed out a laugh. “So this, a woman’s real, lived experience of men and sexuality and emotional connection is ‘disturbing’, but the piece we let that dick head comedian write back in August where he said Hitler ‘wasn’t such a bad guy’ was okay?” 

“It was a joke he made in poor taste and a retraction was published almost immediately.”

“Still made it to print though.” 

She pinched the bridge of her nose, exhaling slowly. “Look, I’m not saying this isn’t a good piece of writing. Because it is. I know you’ve been working on it for months and it shows. It’s important and it’s relevant, I get that. But we have to give readers balance; some escapism, y’know. And that’s the job of our staff writers, to uplift the magazine with stories about celebrities and fashion and lifestyle and-” She sighed. “We have the hard hitting stuff covered. What we need from you is-”

“Fluff.” You inhaled sharply through your nose and crossed your arms over your chest. “I just thought after the Benedict Cumberbatch interview and how well it was received I might finally get to write something with more… substance.” 

She let out a single, clipped laugh, shaking her head at you condescendingly. “Quinn, one feature on a big name celeb doesn’t fast track you to serious journalism. You wrote about his films, his love life, what he does in his spare time. It wasn’t exactly an exposé.” 

You bit back a retort, crossing one leg over the other and glancing out at the office through the glass wall. “What did Ellen Ford say about it? The op ed.”

“I haven’t shown her. And I’m not going to.”

“Julia-”

“I’m not having this conversation anymore, Quinn. I was given this position permanently because I know what I’m doing. Ellen trusts my judgement and my judgement is that this piece is a no go. If you want to write something for the next issue then you can cover the London Arts and Culture Gala tonight. Kate was supposed to be going but she just called to say she’s sick.”

You groaned, pressing your fingers into your eyes. “Why do you keep sending me to fucking galas?” 

She tutted sarcastically, pushing out her bottom lip. “Getting dressed up to have free food and drink while rubbing shoulders with celebrities all night, how evil of me.” 

You glared at her. 

“I hear Benedict Cumberbatch is on the guest list,” she said, a slight snarkiness in her tone. “Maybe you can cosy up to him, get yourself a follow up interview. Not exactly Pullitzer material but hey, it’s another step towards those doors you’re so desperate to open.” 

You already knew Ben was going to be there. You wanted to tell her that you knew; that he’d told you about it as you lay together in bed last night - still not having sex, to your utter dismay - and that you’d scoffed when he asked if you were covering it for the magazine. You wanted to punch her for suggesting you cosy up to him, as though he was nothing more than a rung in the ladder of your career. 

“The last editorial assistant that suggested I get ‘cosy’ for a story ended up escorted out of here by security,” you said with a cold, flat smile.

She held your gaze, her foot bouncing more quickly now. “I know you like to think the world’s against you, Quinn. But I actually think you’re a good journalist. Hence why I keep sending you to fucking galas…” 

You paused a moment before finally giving in and standing up with a huff. “Can I get another dress?” 

 “I’m sure you have something at the back of your wardrobe you could wear.” 

You rolled your eyes, leaning over and snatching your papers off the desk before turning to leave her office. 

The back of your wardrobe had provided you two options: the first was a short, bright chartreuse dress with a boned bodice and sparkly straps. It was awful. So awful that you grimaced when you pulled it out, wondering what kind of fugue state you’d been in when you bought it. But then you noticed the tag was still attached, realising you must have come to your senses and decided to never let it touch your body or see the light of day again. 

The second option was plain, black, high neck and sleeveless. It hugged your figure like a second skin, skimming just above your ankles as you stood on your tiptoes in front of the mirror. You wondered why you’d never worn it before. Then you remembered you’d bought it for a funeral, only to get it home and realise your dead uncle’s family probably wouldn’t appreciate being able to see the outline of your arse at his wake. 

You put your hair up and did your makeup, feeling pangs of excitement in your stomach at the thought of seeing Ben’s face when you arrived. You hadn’t told him you were coming, much preferring the idea of him spotting you from across a crowded room, having to hide his surprise and keep his cool, to pretend he barely remembered your name. You slipped into a pair of heels, stuffing your ticket and press pass into your bag alongside a notepad and pen, your fully charged phone and the perfume he always complimented. 

When you arrived at the Claridge’s hotel, you stepped out of the cab to a mob of flashing cameras lining the carpeted entrance. There was something humbling about being unimportant, being able to weave through a sea of celebrities and influential figures like a ghost as paparazzi screamed for them to stop and pose for photos. It was comforting, almost, to be overlooked. 

You made your way inside, the grand hall warmly lit with ornate chandeliers, large round tables covered in pristine tablecloths and floral centrepieces. The room buzzed with the sound of clinking glasses and reserved conversation, servers weaving between guests with trays of champagne and dainty canapés. You took a glass from a waiter with the most dazzling smile you’d ever seen, unable to resist a glance at his backside as he walked away. 

The press table was at the other end of the hall. You took a large swig of champagne and began the long walk, meandering through tables and crowds of famous faces you never got used to seeing in person. Olivia Colman was at a table to your left, close enough for you to reach out and touch her - and you thought about it, just for a moment - but you resisted. 

You hadn’t been watching where you were going, an elbow almost knocking the drink from your hand as you walked right into it. You looked up to see an actor you recognised but couldn’t remember the name of, his surprise softening to a friendly laugh as he placed his hands on your arms to steady you.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Sorry,” you said. “I was distracted by Olivia Colman.” 

“Ah, we’ve all been there,” he replied. 

He was tall, smartly dressed, with a crooked smile and reddish hair. He’d been in a TV show you watched. Or was it a movie? God, what the hell was his name? 

You gave an awkward laugh. “Sorry again.” 

He waved his hand, as if telling you not to worry. You smiled appreciatively and turned to walk away, but his voice suddenly made you halt.

“Benedict! How’ve you been, man?” 

You glanced back over your shoulder to see him pulling another tall, suited man into a hug, the pair smacking each other hard on the back in that weird way only men ever seemed to do. The corner of your mouth curled, threatening a smirk when you saw the side of Ben’s face.

You tilted your head, waiting for him to notice you. And when he did, it was as delicious as you’d imagined it would be. It began with a flicker of recognition, followed by the slow widening of realisation, his expression changing so subtly that only someone who knew him as well as you did would notice.

He composed himself quickly, giving the man he’d been hugging a final, firm pat on the back before stepping away with a slight smile. You kept your face neutral as you stood in his eyeline, as if seeing him was no big deal, as if you hadn’t spent the majority of your evening fantasising about this very moment; the way his eyes travelled down your body, his jaw clenching as he lingered on your curves. You brought the glass to your lips, taking a slow sip of champagne, never looking away from him as he tried to engage in polite conversation. 

It didn’t take long for him to excuse himself, squeezing the man’s shoulder as he stepped around him and made his way towards you, his long strides closing the distance far too quickly. You’d wanted to make the moment last, to savour it, make him sweat a little while longer.

“Quinn,” he said, his voice low and warm as he came to a stop in front of you. 

“Benedict,” you replied coolly, giving a slight nod.

He glanced around before returning his gaze to you. “You said you weren’t coming.”

You smiled, giving a casual shrug. “Didn’t think it was worth mentioning.”

He gave you a look, one that told you he wasn’t buying it. Then his eyes flitted down again, taking you in once more. “You…” He trailed off, his gaze returning to your face, and for a second you thought he might lose his composure. “You look… Nice.”

“Nice?” you repeated, feigning offence. 

His mouth twitched, his voice darkening. “Very nice.”

You could feel his restraint, the effort it was taking for him not to touch you, to close the distance between you.

“So.” He cleared his throat. “I take it you’re here for the magazine?” 

You rolled your eyes dramatically, taking another sip of champagne. “Mhm. Julia, the editorial assistant, completely shat all over my piece, decided I was more useful rubbing shoulders than writing anything of actual substance.” 

His brows came together for a moment with a sympathetic smile. “Well clearly she’s an idiot.”

“Tell her that.” 

He leaned in slightly. “I’ll tell her, if you want.” 

You laughed and rolled your eyes again. “Yeah, that’ll go down well; getting the guy I’m fucking- sorry, not fucking, to pull strings for me at work.” 

He smirked, dropping his head and fixing the cuff of his blazer. “Just say the word.”

“Stop it,” you laughed, holding back the urge to push him playfully in the chest. 

“Well I suppose there’s worse assignments you could’ve ended up with.” 

“Yeah.” You looked around at the glitzy hall, the man he’d been talking to finding his seat at a table. “Oh my god, what’s his name by the way? It’s been driving me mad.” 

He looked over to where you’d pointed before turning back and opening his mouth to speak. But before he could, a sudden presence appeared at his side. 

“Benedict, good to see you again!”

You recognised Leo McGrath immediately. He was a documentary filmmaker, award winner, known philanthropist. Yet it was his recent appearance at the Oscars that had shot him to sudden, unexpected internet fame. You wondered what it must feel like, to be so unbelievably attractive that just standing there on a red carpet could send the whole world into a frenzy. To have millions of people suddenly know you, not because of your work, but because they fancied you. 

It was true, he was undeniably stunning; green eyes framed by masses of dark lashes, full lips and thick wavy hair long enough to tuck behind his ears. When he smiled, his cheeks dimpled, his imperfect teeth giving him a charm that made it hard not to swoon, even just for a second. 

“Ah, Leo,” said Ben as he shook his hand. “It’s good to see you too. How’ve you been?” 

“Good, yeah, it’s been… intense.” He breathed out a laugh, running a hand through his hair. 

“I can imagine.” 

“Well I suppose you don’t need to imagine, you’ve been there too. What did they call you? The Internet’s Boyfriend?” 

Ben rolled his eyes, nodding with a laugh.

Leo’s gaze shifted to you, his eyes lighting up as if he hadn’t noticed you until now. “Sorry, I’m so rude!” he said, reaching out to shake your hand.

“Oh, of course, sorry. Leo, this is Quinn Armitage. She’s a writer for Draft.” 

“Pleasure to meet you, Quinn,” he said, looking you up and down, far less subtly than Ben had.

You shook his hand with a smile, catching a fleck of irritation on Ben’s face. “Likewise. And congratulations on your Oscar win.” 

“Ah, thank you very much.” He took a step back, his eyes bouncing between the two of you. “So are you here together, or?” 

“No,” Ben replied, and you couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at the speed of his response. “Quinn wrote a piece on me at the end of last year. We were just catching up.”  

“Oh right.” He seemed pleased to learn you were there alone, his interest in you piquing, attention lingering on your face. “So you’re here for work then?”

You nodded, watching Ben’s jaw tighten from the corner of your eye, like he was grinding his teeth. You held back a grin; the sight of him ruffled was a rarity, and you couldn’t help but take some pleasure in it.

“Well you should join me at my table,” said Leo. “It’s near the front, a much better spot for you to get some good material.” 

You glanced up at Ben, the slight flush in his cheeks, how hard he was having to work to stay calm. He was jealous. You liked it. 

“Yeah,” you said with a smile. “That sounds good, I’ll take you up on that offer.”

He gestured for you to follow him, and you did, meeting Ben’s gaze as you stepped aside and began to walk away. You couldn’t hold back the smirk as you watched his eyes darken, a silent warning etched on his stony, unamused face. 

You followed Leo to his table, the weight of Ben’s eyes heavy on the back of your neck. You couldn’t help but feel excited, perhaps even satisfied; Leo’s sudden interest in you was undeniably flattering, and Ben’s barely contained jealousy made it all the more enjoyable.

He pulled out a chair for you and you thanked him as you sat down. The view was indeed better from here; the stage only feet away, every guest visible with the turn of your head. He took a seat beside you, getting comfortable as he chatted casually to the other people around the table. 

Then he turned to you, snatching you out of a daze.

 “So is this what you do for Draft then?” he asked. “Report on parties and events and stuff?” 

“Well I’m a staff writer, so I pretty much just do what I’m told,” you said, your voice laced with cynicism. 

He smiled. “I sense some… unrest.” 

“You could say that.” You drank down the dregs of your champagne, twirling the stem of the flute between your fingers.

He leaned back in his chair, cocking his head as he looked at you with narrowed eyes, an amused smirk creating a deep dimple in his cheek. “Let me guess, you’re trying to work your way into serious journalism, but all they’re giving you is celebrity gossip and… listicles.” 

You pressed your lips together, exhaling a laugh through your nose. “I wrote this piece - it’s my best work to date - put it forward for an op ed but they weren’t interested. Sent me here instead.”

“Y’know, this industry is… brutal. You fight to be heard, to have your work taken seriously, amplified, given the platform you know it deserves. Then you finally get recognised for that work after years and years of graft, and yet somehow it still ends up overshadowed by how fuckable women on the internet think you are.”

“You are quite fuckable though, to be fair,” you replied bluntly.

He dropped his head to disguise a laugh, before composing himself again, lifting his head to meet your gaze. He stretched his arm along the back of your chair to lean in closer, speaking quietly. “What I’m saying is that no one in this industry gets anything without going over heads and stepping on toes. It’s a fight. And even when you get to the top, you have to claw at it if you want to stay there. It’s like… the Hunger Games but for losers who watched the news too much as kids.”

You gave a slight smile, allowing a quick glance over your shoulder to Ben’s table where he sat fidgeting with his hands, watching you beneath a heavy brow. You looked down at Leo’s arm draped behind you, your smile quickly turning into a smirk. 

You leaned in closer to Leo, mirroring the intensity of his gaze. “So you’re saying the only way I’m going to transition to serious journalism is if I… play dirty?” 

“Exactly,” he replied in a low, husky voice.

“How do you suggest I do that?” 

He thought for a moment, running his tongue across his top teeth. “When I first started making docs, I got turned down by every production company, every channel and network. No one would give me a penny, wouldn’t even agree to broadcast. So I said fuck it, went out there with my camera, whatever money I had in my account and I made them anyway. Then when these companies saw that people actually gave a shit about the things I was documenting, they came running to me.”

“So you’re saying I just go rogue?”

“Potentially.” 

“Hm. There’s just one problem with that; there’s this thing called rent, and erm… needing to eat…” you said sarcastically.

He laughed. “I’m not saying you go and quit Draft and start a fucking blog or something. I’m saying… check out. Quietly quit, as they say. Attend the fancy events, write the fluffy articles, do whatever you need to do to keep your affiliation with the magazine and use it to your advantage.” He reached up and took your chin between his finger and thumb, turning your head towards the sea of tables behind you. “See all of these people? Actors, producers, investors. You have direct access to them all right now. You could charm and persuade and get numbers in your phone and your name on people’s radars. And all you have to do in exchange is write a silly little article about their clothes and how they spend their evening.” 

You turned your head back to him slowly; his insight like an epiphany, turning the banality of your surroundings to an abundance of possibility. Ten minutes ago this man was a stranger, yet now here he was with his face inches from yours, giving you the best advice you’d ever heard.

“Let me interview you,” you said.

He leaned back, brow furrowed in curiosity. 

“What? I’ve made a connection and I’m using it to my advantage.” You shrugged. “Isn’t that what you told me to do?” 

The corner of his mouth curved into a smile. “Fair play. Though, an interview… with Draft…” He scrunched his nose with scepticism.

“I won’t write anything about your looks. Won’t ask a single question about anything other than your work.” 

“It’s tempting,” he replied with a hum. 

The lights of the hall dimmed as a single, bright spotlight illuminated the stage. A woman stepped up to the microphone holding a stack of cue cards and clearing her throat. Leo turned away from you to listen, and you felt your chest heave with a breath you hadn’t realised you’d been holding. He was intense. Beguiling, even. 

“Welcome everybody,” said the woman, her voice creating a screech of feedback through the speaker. She took a step away from the mic with an embarrassed laugh. “Thank you so much for coming…” 

Your phone buzzed inside the clutch bag on your lap as the woman continued to speak. You dug it out and opened the message waiting on the screen. 

I know what you’re doing. 

You subtly turned your head, giving Ben a mischievous wink from across the dark hall. 

What am I doing? you replied. 

Flirting. Stop it. Now. 

Your stomach fluttered as you pictured the tension in his fingers as he typed each word, the firmness of his jaw as he grit his teeth.

Flirting??? 

Quinn. I’m serious.

Not my fault he fancies me. I’m actually quite enjoying the attention. 

As if on cue, Leo turned his attention back to you, leaning in to speak directly into your ear. “What’s so interesting on your phone?” His breath was warm against your skin, his hushed tone filled with playful curiosity. 

You looked over at Ben again, smiling as you put the phone face down on the table, turning your attention back to Leo. “Nothing.” 

“Good. I’d hate to think I was losing your attention so soon.”

The woman on stage continued her speech, her words fading to a muffled hum as you lost yourself in the game you couldn’t resist playing. 

“You haven’t lost my attention,” you said, keeping your voice low. “I still want that interview.”

He chuckled. “You’re persistent, I’ll give you that.” He leaned in again, his lips almost brushing your ear. “But I don’t think a formal interview is what you really want from me…”

Your heart began to race, his proximity sending shivers down your spine. You could sense the shift in his demeanour, the hunger in his eyes. If this had been a year earlier, you were sure you’d have ended up in Leo’s bed by the end of the night. But instead, you found yourself more thrilled by the idea of Ben watching you; the power you wielded to make his blood boil from across a crowded room.   

“What else could I possibly want?” you murmured, tilting your head slightly towards Leo, your lips nearly grazing his cheek. 

He let out a low, throaty laugh, his hand sliding from the back of your chair to your thigh. You wondered how far you could take things before your actions became indefensible, before the flirting verged beyond a game and evolved into something less playful.

“I have a feeling there’s a lot of things you want.” His touch was soft yet bold, his fingers tracing swirls that tickled, even through the material of your dress. “Some I might be able to… help you with.” 

You bit your lip, unable to hold back a smirk, before leaning in close. “And here I was, thinking you invited me to sit at your table because you wanted to do a good deed for a struggling journalist.” You pressed your lips to his ear. “Turns out you just wanted to fuck me.” 

He turned his head to look at you, his face so close you could feel his breath. “Can I not want both?” 

“You can,” you replied simply. “Doesn’t mean you’re going to get it though.” 

The room erupted with applause, quelling the tension between you as you turned your attention to the stage. A young woman made her way to the microphone with a guitar in hand. She smiled shyly as she waited for the clapping to fade, before pressing her fingers to the strings and beginning to play. 

Your palms were beginning to itch; every speech and performance receiving a lengthier round of applause than the last. You had no choice but to join in with it, no matter how boring or mediocre you thought it was, putting down your little notebook and pen with a quiet groan to bring your hands together in feigned appreciation.    

You’d been nursing your second glass of champagne for most of the evening, knowing it was your last and taking small sips to savour it. Julia warned you not to get drunk, and you’d taken offence to the insinuation that you couldn’t be trusted to stay professional. But when you realised Leo’s arm was still draped along the back of your chair, you thought perhaps she’d had a point.

The last wave of applause rippled across the room as the host made her way offstage; the spotlight dimming, chandeliers regaining their warm glow as the atmosphere began to relax, the hum of conversation drifting through the air like a sigh of relief. You skimmed over the pages in your book, trying to decipher the chaotic notes you’d scrawled in the dark when Leo turned to look at you. 

“Get everything you need?” he asked, nodding to your notebook.

“Eh, I’ll probably have to employ some creative writing here and there,” you replied as you looked up at him. 

He smirked. “You weren’t paying attention to any of it, were you.”  

“More than I would have if I were back there at the press table.” 

“Well it’s a good job I had a spare seat.”

“Mm.” You allowed your gaze to flit from his eyes to his lips and back again, just enough to keep him interested. “I better do a few rounds, get some quotes from people before they start to leave.” 

Mingling had never been your thing, the idea of approaching strangers or interrupting conversations creating a pit of dread in your stomach that made your skin clammy and your mouth dry. Usually you came with someone else; dragged Nick along or found yourself on assignment with another writer who would do most of the talking. This time, you had no choice. . 

You moved around the hall, weaving through a maze of tables as you searched for targets. And with each interaction, it became easier. You took quotes from a table of theatre directors, had surreal conversations with celebrities, and when you finally plucked up the courage to speak to Olivia Colman, the only thing you managed to write down was ‘aaahhhh’. 

You took a moment to breathe, scanning the room to see Ben still at his table, deep in conversation with another actor you vaguely recognised. You watched him for a moment, noticing how his usually easy smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, how he kept brushing the tips of his fingers over his bottom lip. To anyone else, he seemed happy, comfortable. But to you, it was clear he wasn’t nearly as composed as he appeared.

You made your way over, navigating the scattered chairs and waiters topping up champagne until you were close enough to hear their voices. 

“...and everyone I’ve spoken to about it has said I should do it,” the other man was saying. “But it’s just such a big commitment.”

Ben nodded, his eyes flickering in your direction for just a moment. “It is a lot. But you’ve just got to weigh up the pros and cons…” 

He trailed off as you finally made it to their table, turning his attention to you as though he hadn’t known you were coming. 

“Sorry for interrupting,” you said as you cleared your throat and held up your notebook. “My name’s Quinn, I’m a writer for Draft Magazine. I was hoping I could steal you for a second to ask a few questions?”

His eyes stayed on you for a moment before returning to the actor beside him. “Sorry.” 

“Ah no worries, duty calls.”  

“But if you want my honest opinion, I think you should go for it.” 

The man smiled appreciatively as he rose to his feet, raising his glass in a mock salute before walking away.

You quickly sat in his place; the seat was still warm, turned towards Ben at an awkward angle. You shifted it further to face him, leaning back with the notebook in your lap. 

“Hi,” you finally said, holding back a smile.

“Hi,” he replied, his face calm, tone unreadable.

“So, the question I have for you is…” you flicked to another page. “Do you have any thoughts on how we as a society, and as individuals, can foster the arts in ways that don’t involve funding or monetary-”  

“What the fuck was that?” he interrupted quietly, gesturing subtly towards Leo’s table across the hall. 

“What was what?” you replied casually, defiantly.

He didn’t answer right away. Instead he mirrored your posture, leaning back in his chair and lowering his chin slightly, his eyes darkening beneath the shadow of his brow. “His hands were all over you…” 

“So?”

“So you knew exactly what you were doing.”

Your stomach fluttered with a mixture of excitement and apprehension. You cocked your head, widening your eyes to feign innocence. “What was I doing?” 

“Trying to piss me off.” 

You pushed out your bottom lip. “Are you jealous?” 

“Jealous-?” He exhaled a laugh through his nose. But there was no amusement in it. Then he lowered his voice. “I was jealous when I saw him eyeing you up. I was jealous when he invited you to sit at his table. But now? I’m not jealous, I’m furious.” 

You regarded him for a moment, taking undeniable pleasure in his silent rage. But when you finally opened your mouth to speak, a hand on your shoulder made you still. 

You looked up to see Leo standing at your side, glancing down at both of you with a charming smile.

“Sorry for interrupting,” he said. “Quinn, my team and I are heading to an afterparty at the Edition. I wondered if you wanted to join me?” 

“Oh, I…” you looked at Ben, then back up to Leo. “Thanks, but I can’t. I’m still working.”

“Your boss doesn’t have to know…” 

You breathed out a laugh. “No really, I think I’m going to be good for once and actually do my job.” 

“Or you could come with me to the afterparty and start being good tomorrow…” 

“She said no,” Ben interjected firmly. 

It caught you off guard, raising the hairs on your arms and sending a shiver down your spine. It was his unexpected harshness paired with a friendly smile, the restraint it was clearly taking him to keep his cool. 

Leo seemed taken aback too, turning to him with raised brows and parted lips, like he wanted to speak but had no idea what to say. He eventually gave up with an understanding nod, before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a business card. 

“Give me a call some time,” he said as he handed it to you. “If you want, of course.” 

You took it with a smile, waiting for him to walk away before turning your attention back to Ben. 

“That was rude of you,” you said.

“Sorry… Rude of me?”  

You rolled your eyes and slid the card between the pages of your notebook. 

“Are you really keeping that?” Ben asked. 

“He’s a documentary maker, I’m a journalist. It might come in handy.” 

He pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek and shifted in his seat, crossing one leg over the other as he continued to glare at you. 

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Wow, you weren’t joking when you said you were furious…” 

 “No. I wasn’t. I told you the mind games and manipulation wouldn’t fly with me. I told you that.” 

“You are taking this way too seriously.”  

He leaned forward suddenly, his movement sharp, teeth clenched. “Too-” But he stopped himself, pressing his lips together and looking around the bustling hall as he slowly reclined again. “We’re leaving.” 

You furrowed your brow as you watched him stand up. “Did you not hear what I just said? I’m working, I can’t leave yet.”  

“I said we’re going.” 

You hadn’t seen him like this since the first night you met. You’d almost forgotten he was capable of it; the hard angles and stern tone, the dominance of his demand sending a flutter through your core. The thrill of it was undeniable, but his anger was palpable, making you stutter as you tried to speak. 

“Ben, I’m- I’m not-”

“Now.” 

You yielded with a sigh, shoving everything into your bag and tucking it under your arm as you rose to your feet. Your heart was pounding as you began to follow him, almost tripping over the leg of your chair as you went. He didn’t speak as he made his way to the exit of the hall, his fist opening and closing at his side in a steady rhythm, face brightening with a polite smile whenever someone greeted him as he passed. 

He gripped your wrist as you neared the exit, leading you out into the large, echoing foyer. The indelicacy of his touch surprised you, flooding you with a fleeting rush of panic, like a child preparing to be scolded once their parents got them home. 

Your heels clicked against the marble floor, your quick, uneven footsteps struggling to keep up with his long strides as he walked you towards a quiet, hidden corner.

“Don’t you need to tell people you’re leaving?” you asked. “Like your publicist or whoever you came with?” 

“I came alone,” he replied, stopping once you were out of sight.

“Really? Why?” 

“Because I drove here.” He glanced over his shoulder, assessing the paparazzi as they waited outside. “You’re going to go and wait for me by the car. I’ll follow in a couple of minutes.” 

You did as you were told, emerging into the mild spring night and slipping through the chaos with ease. When you got to Ben’s car, you waited with your arms folded over your chest, watching from a distance as an explosion of camera flashes illuminated the darkness like fireworks. 

You pressed your lips into a straight lined smile when he finally reached you, hurrying around to the driver’s side without a word. He unlocked the door and pulled it open, glancing around to make sure he hadn’t been followed. You raised onto your tiptoes to look at him over the top of the car, breathing out a laugh when he almost scowled back. 

“Are you seriously still annoyed with me?” you asked. 

“Of course I am,” he replied. “I can barely look at you right now.” 

He slipped into the car and pulled the door closed. You paused for a moment before deciding to climb into the back seat instead.

He looked at you in the rearview mirror, brow furrowed in confusion. “What are you doing?” 

“You said you didn’t want to look at me,” you replied brattishly. “You don’t have to if I’m back here.” 

He rolled his eyes, letting out an exasperated breath. “Get in the front.” 

You thought about defying his demand, but you quickly gave in; choosing to clamber arduously over the centre console instead of getting out, purely to annoy him that little bit more. You settled into the front passenger seat, turning to look at him as you dragged the seatbelt across your chest. 

He drove in silence at first, the journey ebbing and flowing between heavy traffic and dark, deserted streets. You’d been waiting for him to speak, but with each silent wait at a red light, you found yourself growing impatient. He turned his head towards you, and you glanced back at him hopefully, only to realise he was looking past you, checking the road was clear before driving across it. 

You huffed. “Fine, you win, I apologise for flirting with the sexy man, alright? Can you stop acting like I slapped your mum now?” 

“You really don’t get why I’m pissed off, do you.” 

“He was just giving me career advice-”

“Career advice? What career advice requires him to touch you like that? To whisper in your ear, run his hand up your thigh?” 

You couldn’t resist; the old Quinn taking over with a shrug and a surly glare. “I was just having a bit of fun-”

A deep growl rumbled in his throat, his grip tightening around the steering wheel. “Nothing about that was fun.” 

“Maybe not for you…” 

“Quinn. I swear to god.”

 You threw your head back and let out a groan. “It was flirting, Ben. He clearly fancied me and I took the opportunity to tease you, wind you up-”

“Oh yeah, and I’m sure you got no pleasure out of it whatsoever,” he quipped cynically. 

“Oh I’m so sorry,” you said sarcastically. “Y’know, it’s almost like I haven’t gone the past four months without sex because the man I’m seeing refuses to touch me anywhere below the fucking neck. I mean, Jesus, I’ve been masturbating so much I could give a teenage boy a run for his money; forgive me for indulging in a bit of physical affection for one night.” 

“So you did like him then...”  

“No, Ben-” You stopped yourself, pinching the bridge of your nose and letting out an exasperated breath. But when you composed yourself again, your brows came together in sudden realisation. “Actually, what if I did?” 

He took his eyes off the road for a second, glancing at you in confusion.

“What right would you have to tell me I couldn’t flirt with him? Couldn’t let him touch me?” You sat up straighter, turning your body towards him. “What if I wanted him to do that? What if I enjoyed sitting with him and decided I wanted to go to that afterparty? What authority would you have to tell me I couldn’t?”  

He rolled his eyes.

“What if I went with him? Danced, drank, let him take me home, undress me, kiss me…” 

Your words were getting to him; crawling under his skin, making him roll his shoulders like he was trying to shrug the image away. 

“I mean, you said it yourself to whatshisface back at the gala; I’m just Quinn, the journalist you met once back in November. Why would you care who else I fuck?” 

He turned the wheel sharply, pulling the car into a layby with a sudden stop. It was dark, void of streetlights, thick trees lining both sides of the road. You jerked forward as he broke, the seatbelt pressing firmly against your chest. 

“Jesus Christ, Ben.” 

He shut off the engine and turned in his seat to face you. “You know full well that neither of us want people to know about this. You don’t get to use it against me to justify flirting with someone else.” 

“I flirted with him to annoy you. Clearly it worked… A bit too well.” 

“But why? Why would you think I’d find that amusing?” His voice was raised, his hands moving in time with his words.

“I didn’t. I thought I’d find it amusing.” 

He growled, letting out a hot angry breath through his nose. “You are the most infuriating fucking person.” 

“Then why have you stuck around for this long?” 

“Why have you? If taking it slow and doing things right has been such a fucking chore for you then why are you still bothering?” 

You opened your mouth to argue, but he didn’t give you the chance, unclipping his seatbelt to lean in closer.

“I’ll tell you why. It’s because you know I’m the only man who’s ever been able to handle you. Who sees you for who you really are and likes it.” 

Your heart began to race, your back pressing against the passenger door. He was right, and you hated it. 

“Because even though I haven’t touched you in four months, you still aren’t bored of me.” His voice was dangerously soft now, his eyes fixed on yours. “Because even as another man threw himself at you tonight, you still found yourself looking for me.”

“So if that’s what you think, why do you care that I let him touch me?” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. 

“Because I don’t like watching someone else touch what’s mine.” 

You swallowed hard, your defiance faltering as his words sank in. He was so close now, one arm outstretched along the back of your seat, the other holding back the urge to reach out and touch you. 

Your eyes flitted from his face to his crotch then back again. “You want to fuck me right now, don’t you…”

His gaze flickered with something dark, primal. He exhaled slowly, the angles of his face sharp with anger, partly with you, but mostly with himself. 

A rush of excitement flooded through you as he reached out to cup your face, pulling you into a sudden, intense kiss. You could feel his possessiveness; the way his lips moved with a firm pressure, tongue sweeping impatiently into your mouth. 

You fumbled for your seatbelt, unfastening it quickly and letting it snap back against the door, your hands immediately snaking around the back of his neck, pulling yourself into him. His hand dropped to your side, his touch rough, almost painful as he pressed and squeezed his fingertips into your waist. You felt him pulling you closer, his body radiating a heat that almost made it hard to breathe. His hand travelled lower, pushing up the material of your dress and allowing his fingers to graze the bare skin of your thighs. He ran his palm over the place Leo had touched, as though he was cleansing you of it, wiping it away and replacing it with his own. 

You’d been starved for so long that even his hand on your thigh made you tremble, a soft moan escaping your parted lips as he kissed you. The sound stirred something in him, and in moments you found yourself straddling his lap in the driver’s seat. 

He was hard. You could feel it straining beneath his trousers, pressing against your centre as you tangled your fingers in his hair, your breaths hot and heavy, anger and lust fogging the windows like steam. You rolled your hips, the steering wheel letting out a short, loud beep as your backside knocked against it. But neither of you paid it any attention, giving in to the fevered, passionate release you’d been denying yourselves for so long. 

His hands settled on your hips, gripping you firmly as he pushed himself against you, the friction drawing a satisfied groan from his throat. You’d missed those sounds, the way it felt to have him desperate to fill you. But you knew he was losing himself, intoxicated by his own frustration. You were in a car, parked on the side of a quiet, winding road. This wasn’t how he wanted it to be, and you weren’t sure it was how you wanted it to be either.

You broke away, letting your head fall back as he began traipsing hot, hungry kisses down your neck. “Ben,” you whispered breathlessly. “If we go any further I won’t be able to stop.” 

You felt him pause, his lips still, breath tickling your skin. 

“This isn’t how you wanted it to be,” you said softly, masking your disappointment. “We need to stop.” 

He lowered his forehead to rest on your collarbone, letting out a quiet sigh. “Fuck,” he whispered, his voice hoarse, thick with lust. 

He pulled away from you, his hand lingering on your waist for a second longer before finally letting go. He sat back, his head tilting against the headrest as he closed his eyes, trying to compose himself. 

You slid off his lap, climbing back into the passenger seat and fixing your dress. You looked over at him, watching him in silence, fearful of what awaited you when he finally opened his eyes. You’d spent four months wanting nothing more than to see him break, to give in to you, and if it were anyone else, you would have taken full advantage of this lapse in judgement. But you couldn’t. 

The silence was awkward, moonlight casting a soft glow through the steamy windows, your slowing breaths providing the only sound. When he finally looked at you, there was a clarity in his expression; his jaw softening, eyes rounding. 

“Thank you,” he said. 

There was something about the way he said it, like your restraint had renewed his faith in you, shifted something inside him.

You nodded slightly, reaching behind you for your seatbelt.

He nodded back, his gaze lingering on your face for a moment longer before finally starting the car again. The engine rumbled and he leaned forward to wipe the windshield, using his sleeve to clear it. 

The tension remained as he drove, but it was different now. He was no longer angry, and you no longer cared to push his buttons. After a while, you gathered he was taking you to his house, and it filled you with a sense of relief you couldn’t quite explain. 

The road was empty, quiet, yet still the traffic light turned red. He slowed to a stop, resting his hand on the gearstick as he waited for it to change. 

“I’m sorry,” you said. “About Leo. I really was just teasing you. I never would have-”

He reached out and took your hand in his without a word, giving it a gentle squeeze. You relaxed back into your seat, looking down at your intertwined fingers as they rested in your lap.

*Reader Tag List: @blondekel77 @evelynrosestuff @bakerstreethound @annesthaeticc @aephereal @sharp-cheekbones-locked @sherlux @veryladyqueen @graciebear47 @allurenia @jamerlynn @cottagecore-cat @aysamuka @thegardenerofeden @cumbercatchmebaby @inspirationalandrandom @turkisherlockian @swds @weepingdreamerpanda @elzabethann @childofgod215 @briecantopme @lovecleastrange @jaspearl31 @paola-carter @greatburger @azu21 @xourownsidee @hunterofshadows04 @asgardianprincess1050 @teddycrimson @sherlocksgirl91 @oliveoilthoughts @hai-kbai @shjl15 @bloodyxsaint @charleighsblog @stephenstrangeaddictions @omgstarks @sleutherclaw @bisciwri @theevilsupreme @druggedbyfiction @gwoods123 @classickook @coffee-d0t @strangeobsessed @januarycolor @strangeions @lonadane @downtownshabby @diabaroxa @stllbrln @thealleydog @cakesandtom @irisbutterfly @coffeebeing @lexlexigogh @mun7on @svntnpldis @belan-the-dilf-hunter @blxckdragonfly @detective-sherlocked @xdelulu @nicoletk @filmlock @bensherstrange @midnightramyeoncravings @coldnique @dearwatson @scailedandisolated @aphroditesdilemma @bergararyans @txylorrvelasco @classicrebound @hthrevr @happybunnyclumsyduck @c00letha @j3mj3rrica @ironstrange1991 @vi0letdaze @theothersideofthescreen @alessandra-cumberbatch @indiefilmfatale

[iheartchv]

Hey, can you do a vampire, Leo x F!Reader, but in Bayverse with prompts and can you do it in a lemon too

79. “Lay back and let me take care of you.” 74. “Just relax.” 89. Mating season 142. “Bite me.” 58. Turtle bedroom 123. “Don’t hold back.” 132. “Argue all you want, we both know you belong to me.” 32. “Do you trust me?” 5. “MINE.” and turning into a vampire

Could you add this request to your Masterlist

Sorry this took sooo long, I've been working on my life and trying to figure out/ plan what I'm gonna do in the next 2 years ( I'm living with and supporting my dad until he is able have steady income somehow or someway.) Im sorry if this seems rushed or all over the place, it's been a while since I've written anything and... I've run out of ideas for the vampire TMNT AUs. Hopefully the spooky season can give me inspiration/motivation to start writing again🎃😈🧡💜🖤

Prompts used (c) @turtle-babe83

Everyone involved in the story is 18+ This was written by an adult for adults. ⛔No one under 18 here please.⛔ By clicking Keep reading you give consent that you are mature and of age to read the content below⚠️

💙🐢💙🐢💙🐢💙🐢💙

He was taught to stay hidden in the shadows. But the way you looked under the moonlight was enough to make him feel alive, something he hadn't felt for a long time. You were... different, and he couldn't help but to be drawn to you... like a moth drawn to a flame.

💙🐢💙🐢💙🐢💙🐢💙

Leo stood before you on the rooftop of your apartment, the pale light of the moon bathing the both of you in the spotlight for an invisible spotlight. He had sent you a text saying that he needed to talk with you. And here you both were, safe from any prying eyes.

"What is it, Leo?"

You crossed your arms across your chest, waiting to hear what the turtle in blue had to say. The way the moon made his eyes glow made him look dangerous. It caused your heart to pound, feeling like a prey to a hunter. You knew that he was a vampire after sometime, knew he was dangeous but... you couldn't stay away from him. You couldn't stop thinking and dreaming of him.

Leo's ocean blue eyes looked you up and down. He felt a stirring inside him. It was a powerful urge to do more than taste your blood... He knew what this hunger was. He had dealt with this feeling for so long, but since meeting you it had intensified. It was getting harder and harder to resist the temptation of taking you as he mate.

He knew you had feelings for him, too. Right now, he could read your mind, hear the sound of your heart starting to race. Even without his vampiric powers, he could tell by the light blush of your cheeks what you were thinking. He took a deep breath and then started to speak.

"Y/N, do you... believe in fate?"

What kind of question was that?

"I... don't know. I've never thought about things like destiny or fate."

"I've thought and meditated about it, and... I believe that you and I were meant to be."

You had so many thoughts running through your mind. Thoughts of you and Leo being immortal, together forever... This was all of a sudden and it had caught you off guard. What was you supposed to say?

"How can you say that? How can you be so sure? We've only known each other for a short time." You continued to spout out nonsense, anything to deny and lie to yourself about the way you felt toward him.

Leo stepped forward and replied,“You can deny and argue all you want, we both know you belong to me.” He could see through your meaningless words. Because whether you knew or not, you belonged to him before he knew you. He claimed you the first time he laid his eyes on you.

"Leonardo..."

You felt tears burn your eyes and turned your back to him, thinking that not by looking at him you'd be more rational with your thoughts. However in your minds eye you could see the terrapin's glowing blue eyes, drawing you into the luminious orbs. With a heavy sigh and a soft voice you said to him,"We're both from different worlds, it... it wouldn't work out between us even if we tried."

'You're so cruel to make me feel this way, Leo... I'm just trying to protect us from heart ache... I care for you too much to hurt you.'

Strong arms were wrapped around you in an embrace from behind. Leo had pulled you in, burying his snoot into the crook of your neck and shoulder, letting his senses be enveloped by your scent. He wanted to be intoxicated by you.

He could feel the pain in your heart just by looking into your eyes. He breathed as slowly and as calmly as he could to control his unquenchable thirst for you. This wasn't easy but for you he'd do anything to protect you.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. That was out of line and selfish of me... I'm not usually like this, but.. you're the only one who makes me feel this way."

There was a silence between the two of you for a moment and then your hands gently touched one of his arms. The pebbled texture of his skin against the smoothness of your palm was an interesting sensation.

"I know. I... just need some time to think about all of this."

"Whenever you're ready, I'll be waiting for you, y/n."

💙💙💙💙💙💙💙

After a few months, and a few times of spending the night with Leo, you were ready to accept the leader's proposal: to make you his forever. Call it being overconfident, or maybe just being completely stupid, but your feelings for Leonardo made itself be known and in your heart of hearts you loved him. There was no turning back, and there would never be someone who could treat you the way he did. 'Just relax. Lay back and let me take care of you,' he had said to you during your first time with him.

And right now, you were underneath him panting and moaning, with his hands holding your legs back as he rocked in and out of your dripping pussy. He was huge compared to a human and had made you orgasm a few times already... he was just getting started.

Leo was chasing his orgasm, knew he wouldn't last much longer. The urge to bite you, taste your blood, and fully take you as his grew stronger and stronger everytime. But with the last sliver of self control he had he stopped himself before he could sink his fangs into your neck.

“D-don’t hold back," you panted.

“Do you trust me? I... don't want..."

“Yes, bite me, please, Leo~ I want you, I want you," you softly whined.

He heard your mewling plea. How could he resist the look of wanton desire that burned so brightly in your eyes? After all, he vowed to give you everything you wanted.

He purred near your ear then growled, “MINE.”

Then he pierced his fangs into crook of your neck, tasting your sweet warm blood as it coated his tongue and down his throat. As he was doing that, he was slamming his hips against yours, becoming lost in the euphoria he felt right now. The sounds of your mixed crys of pain and pleasure spured him on, wanting to bring you to highest point of paradise.

This time with Leo was different from those other nights. After being spent, you fell into a deep sleep. That is until Leo softly woke you, his voice echoing in your mind. You knew in that instant that you and him were to be together forever more.

If you'd like to support me or my works, tip my Ko-fi ☕

[elsecrytt]

Kinktober Day 6

Threesome | Cock Ring | Hypnotism

Pairing: Sukuna/Reader/Gojo (poly)

Warnings: semi-public sex, situationships.

Sukuna and Satoru fucking hate each other.

It’s no news to anyone. Two powerful sorcerers at Jujutsu Tech – one of them from a great clan, the other from nothing. Both exceptional in a way none of their peers were.

There were a lot of strong sorcerers this year – look at Suguru, or Shoko, or even you – but the two of them had this weird fixation on who was the strongest.

What did that matter, really? They were both strong enough to defeat the most dangerous spirits all alone. What did it matter which of them was stronger?

Satoru would shrug, Maybe it doesn’t matter. But I am.

Sukuna was less generous, That Gojo brat is too arrogant for his own good.

On principle, you’d agree with Sukuna, but Sukuna is a raging asshole, and Satoru’s just an annoyance. They don’t pick on you so much these days, though.

As much as he started out as a self-centered jerk, Satoru’s got Suguru’s calming influence on him, softening out his mean remarks and obnoxious behaviors. You have a shared sweet tooth that means he likes to hang around with you after class and try out new candies together.

Sukuna usually just can’t be asked to speak to you, gruff and shoving his way through the hallways of the classes, glaring as though a blue-eyed menace could pop up from any corner - a sentiment you could relate to.

One day you’d caught him sulking in an empty classroom during lunchtime (from Satoru’s mocking words, he’d given his lunch to his “stupid little brother” who’d lost his), and you’d offered to share.

It was surprising that he took the offer. You’re almost more surprised that he actually splits it with you, instead of taking the lion’s share like Satoru does with your foreign imported treats.

And after your years at the school together you’re hesitant to call yourselves friends – you think of them more as starving dogs you were foolish enough to feed.

Either one would show up now and again for your attention, rarely together. They come to you for food and entertainment, not quite company, you don’t think.

But then, there’s a lot of things you think you know about Satoru and Sukuna. Not all of them are right.

Maybe it shouldn’t have been as surprising as it was when you walked in on them making out in an empty classroom.

Lips parted, hands grasping and clawing at one another as if they wish to tear the other apart –

A shove, a shuffle.

Two pairs of eyes, red and blue, wide and staring straight at you.

Open, panting mouths. Flushed cheeks. Red and purple marks littering their throats.

You cock your head. “Oh. Sorry, don’t mind me. Go back to eating each other’s faces, or whatever you were supposed to be doing.”

“Fuck, no – ”  “It’s not like – ”

They speak in unison, only to stop and glare at each other at the overlapping voices.

Satoru is leaning back against a desk, his coat uncharacteristically undone at the top. Sukuna’s collar is always loose, but you catch teeth marks underneath it.

The excuses they make are actually really funny.

They interrupt each other, Sukuna even shoves Satoru for blithe remark about how I wouldn’t even if he paid me, teeth bared as he scoffs and growls, Oh but you sure moaned like you were being paid to, you little porn star –

“Enough!”

You shut the door behind you, locking it, and slide yourself up to sit on a desk. The two of them stare at you while you rest your chin on your hand.

“I told you,” You say, “Don’t mind me. Go back to what you were doing.”

There’s a hint of red that creeps over Satoru’s pale cheeks. It’s just as noticeable on Sukuna’s face, the blush of his hair bringing out the pink on his face.

“Well? I’m waiting. Go on. The least you could do is give me a show.” You lick your lips, “The catfight thing is cute and all but I’m super curious.”

Were they just making out like a couple flighty virgins, or was someone’s dick going to come out at one point? You’re kind of excited to find out.

“I-” Sukuna is cut off as Satoru’s lips press into his mouth. He growls and pushes back on pure instinct, shoving hm right into the desk you’re sitting on.

“Hey!”

Red eyes burn in satisfaction, a wide hand reaching around Satoru to cover your ass.

Satoru moans (oh wow, he was like a porn star), jumping up to sit himself in your lap.

You’re not sure what to think, as Sukuna grabs your mouth for a kiss and you watch Satoru whine and nip at his ear. You’re not even sure what they’re doing with each other.

You know that Satoru grabs your hand, tugs it to the front of his pants where you dig out his long, slender, pretty cock, already hard and weeping.

Sukuna’s comes out too, brushing against your fingertips, his hands with yours clenching their cocks together to jerk them in unison.

Soon you know what Satoru’s pretty pale skin tastes like, sweat-dewed and trembling with his pitiful whimpers.

Sukuna shoves his fingers in your mouth, coated in their cum. He stares into your eyes with a wild grin, pressing down onto your tongue until you drool and Satoru licks it up.

You know how it feels when Satoru sinks down to his knees and slips aside your panties, diving onto your leaking cunt like it’s another dessert he doesn’t want to share.

How hard Sukuna’s teeth dig into your throat, leaving marks just like the ones you’d seen on Satoru’s neck.

Satoru’s hair is as soft as it looks, that the way he moans when you tug on it is enough to bring you over the edge.

It must do something to Sukuna, because he drags your chin, forcing you to hold eye contact while you cum.

You know when Sukuna pulls Satoru up for a kiss, tugging his mouth open to lick it clean, like he's impatient for a taste of you - it sends a thrill like no other dripping down your spine.

You know all these things, but you don’t know what’s going on.

That’s okay. You don’t think they do, either.

Even if the liaison between them came as a surprise, you’re somehow not surprised to find either of them spending more time with you, in the coming days.

Suddenly, it’s not Suguru who’s Satoru’s constant companion, though you see him eye you with a smirk every now and then. Satoru clings to you like a shadow, whinier than ever – but Sukuna can’t seem to leave you alone, either.

It’s hard to tell what you are. A buffer? An excuse? They include you enough. You don’t stand by and watch them dance around you. You can reach out and touch – they’ll let you. They’ll thank you for it.

You’re still working on Sukuna, but his gratitude is silent. Doors held open, extra lunch boxes or vending machine snacks. A coat when you’re cold, a glare at anyone who bothers you.

Satoru is more open about it. People ask if you’re his girlfriend and you just laugh it off, but he’s not afraid to sling his arm over your shoulders and pull you close. Even though Sukuna is glaring harder than ever.

They’re not a team, never a team, not Sukuna and Satoru. The two of them are always in competition.

"Be my girlfriend," Satoru whispers, "Sukuna doesn't take anything seriously, this is just a game to him. But I like you for real, I'll go on dates with you out in public, tell everyone you're my girl-"

"The fuck you will," Sukuna grumbles, wrapping his own arm around your waist, “She’s my girl as much as she’s yours.”

So you date both of them.

And dating them, you learn a lot. Not about jujutsu or how strong they are. About Sukuna, and Satoru, the boys you’re dating.

You learn that Sukuna is actually a cuddler. He’s much better at it than Satoru, too.

Satoru is clingy, long limbs wrapping around anything and everything he can.

Sukuna likes to get into a nice comfortable position, you or Satoru or both of you on his broad chest, arms strewn in an easy, wide embrace.

Perfect for lazy hours spent laying down listening to them bicker, flirt, or complain – often including you too. Kisses peppered in with nips or smacks on whatever place was easiest to reach.

Sukuna’s the quiet type, the type that can enjoy just sitting in the same room while you do things.

He’s not a bad study buddy, all things considered, although getting him to help with anything is like pulling teeth – purely because it entertains him to make you work for it.

But if you want someone to just give in and hand you everything, that’s what Satoru is for.

If Sukuna is a stray cat with his independence and pride, Satoru is a puppy who would follow you to the ends of the earth. Constantly at your heels, making Sukuna frown and growl in envy at the closeness.

He’s too darling, really, your Satoru. If you need someone to talk, to chatter on and distract you or make you feel like the center of the universe, Satoru could do that. Always ready with a kiss or a credit card, eager to help in any way he can, rub it in Sukuna’s face how much better he is. He loves to be used.

With Sukuna, your fondest memories are his little gestures of kindness.

With Satoru, your most cherished moments are you doing things for him. You hand him a candy and his face lights up. You bring him a drink, you remember the homework from last night, you offer to dry his hair.

Satoru drinks in affection like he’s been starved all his life.

You think him and Sukuna are alike in that way.

Satoru learned to give everything he could in hopes of getting something back. Sukuna learned to expect nothing and take whatever he could get.

They’re so alike, and yet so different.

You learn that Satoru likes it when you cum on his mouth. He likes it when Sukuna does, too.

It’s an attention thing, you think, from how he looks up at you when his mouth is on you, fluttering his lashes, moaning sluttily.

He especially loves having his hair pulled, and Sukuna’s brutal with it, shoving Satoru up and down his cock. It’s hotter than you’d imagined – no one should look that hot sucking dick. It makes you nervous to go down on either of them, sometimes.

It doesn’t make a difference, though. Sukuna likes eating pussy more than he likes sucking dick, so Satoru is delighted whenever you go down on him.

For his part, Sukuna’s more careful with you than he is with Satoru, but Satoru’s an insatiable whore who likes to join in, either touching you while you suck Sukuna off or putting his mouth right on that dick with you.

Sukuna likes it hard and rough. He’s brutal with Satoru; they love to maul each other and throw you in the middle, seeing who would back away first.

They love it even more when you watch, when you goad them on, striving to impress you. Sukuna says he doesn’t care what other people think, but you see him lifting Satoru’s face for you to better see (or ride).

When he comes to you, he’s the picture of control, wielding a sadism tailored to your tastes. He’s always eager, always excited to push you to some new ledge, to find your limit and dance exactly on the line and no further.

He’ll let Satoru come between you only to wear him out completely, turning back and taunting him with the sight of you on the precipice, begging and pleading for release.

Satoru comes to you for gentleness. He loves a good fuck but his favorite is classic missionary where he gets all needy and teary-eyed, desperate for kisses and praise.

Every ounce of affection you pour into him is repaid tenfold, with eyes that look at you like you hung the stars, a mouth that worships you with word and tongue alike.

Sometimes the gentleness is slapping him around, shoving him down, dominating him in a way that he doesn’t have to fight.

Sometimes Sukuna’s cruelty warps, demands hastening and sharpening into something more than plain desire, hands clasped against you to do more than just hold you in place.

They both have things they don’t want the other to see.

You learn they have some tacit agreement to leave each other some alone time with you.

The vast majority of your time is spent in both their company, but there are days you get to spend exclusively with Satoru or exclusively with Sukuna.

Whoever got left out always seems ravenous for company after. A little rougher, a little more demanding.

You learn it’ll be a cold day in hell before either one talks about his feelings.

This is another contest, another waiting game they’re playing against one another. Who can win you over, who can fuck you better, who goes weak or slips up first.

If there were a knife to your throat, you couldn’t say who the winner would be.

You don’t think either of them ever will.

Satoru won't stop whining about how the pistachio ice cream is out of stock. It's getting on your nerves - you know he won't shut up about it if you don't change the subject, but you really just want to relax.

"Satoru, get under the table and eat me out if you're so hungry.”

It’s not a full minute before he’s down there, lifting your skirt, kneading at your thighs as he plays with your panties.

Sukuna's nose scrunches up with his scowl, the one you can't call cute to his face for fear of Satoru never shutting up about it.

"What, Gojo whines and you’re rewarding him?" He complains, like a damn child.

It's funny how similar the two of them are when they're not at each other's throats.

Sukuna scoots closer since you can’t move. Wrapping an arm around your shoulders, pulling you against him, nuzzling lazily into your neck as Satoru fucks you with his tongue.

You’re lucky this place isn’t busy, the server doesn’t say anything about Satoru being ‘missing’ – not that either of them would care, anyways.

If you’re stuck flushed and squirming while Sukuna smirks and Satoru licks your cum off the inside of your thighs, nobody else seems to notice.

It's surreal, how easy it is to fall in step with both of them. How easily your life twists to accommodate them in every aspect.

How easily you bend for them, even when you're not trying to.

If it was just a competition, why do all this?

Are they enjoying it? Just doing whatever’s the most fun?

You know the answer is yes, the answer must be yes, that you’ll have them for as long as they’re entertained and not a second more, but –

When you’re sick one day, they show up to your house – separately, one after the other.

Sukuna comes first, actually, knocking on the door and then breaking the lock to get in. Loudly announcing his presence, making himself at home in your kitchen. Bringing you warm soup, water, helping you sit up and stand.

It’s hours later that Satoru arrives with bags of convenience store painkillers, electrolyte water, cooling pads and your favorite takeout.

He rubs it in, too, gets into an argument with Sukuna like it’s an old pair of shoes, the conversation sliding into the air easily. Sukuna pets your hair and he massages your shoulders as they argue over who the better boyfriend is.

Maybe this is just the next step in their eternal contest to be the strongest. They just want to beat each other at something, and you’re lucky to be that something.

Maybe they’re just having fun, and you’re thinking too much about it.

Maybe this is something real, and you’re all too afraid to say it.

They’re all distant thoughts that fade under Sukuna’s strong embrace and Satoru’s grasping hands.

When you fall asleep, it’s with a warm body on either side of you – and you wake up like that, too.

Kisses in your hair, on your neck, a swat and a hypocritical chastisement as you’re offered water, breakfast, an orgasm (“Seriously, Gojo?”) – and a healthy dose of cuddles and companionship for the rest of the day.

“What do you mean, seriously? Of course it’s a serious offer! I’m always serious!”

“Shut it, you dumbass, they’re still napping. Let them fall back asleep, they’ll recover faster.”

“An orgasm would be even better for that – ”

“Well who fucking says you should be the one to do it?”

…you hope they never stop fighting.

[lazygyodza]

POV: faces u make when...

... u went on a monster hunt during monster heat season and, instead of catching one, u got caught by a vigorous beast and now u will spend the rest of heat season being properly loved and filled w copious amounts of thick and warm monster 💕💕💕 ... What can I say - beware when u travel through the monster lands.

Good Catch Lady working hard to be a proper monster's wife - it takes a lot of stamina, she's enjoying it, don't worry.

***

As always more of juicy sneak peeks r on my ✨pillowfort✨ and 💦bluesky💦

***

[aggressiveviking]

this is where i will be posting my nsfw art p🔺treon gets to see it first tho ❤

[punkeropercyjackson]

Zagreus and Megaera

[lovelesscherub]

639 words of nsfw steddie ♡

Eddie is desperate to graduate. Really, it's something he wants to achieve so, so bad. And he's really close this time. It's not like he's stupid, not at all, he's really smart. But for the life of him, he can't seem to sit down and focus for more than a few minutes at a time before he gets incredibly bored and fidgety.

Because, let's face it, sitting down and revising is really fucking boring when Eddie would rather be doing literally anything else, and nothing seems to motivate him enough despite his drive to pass his exams to finally graduate.

Enter Steve, who comes up with a very creative plan to motivate Eddie.

He doesn't tell Eddie about his plan, just invites him over one evening for a study session. Eddie shows up with no intention to get any actual studying done.

Eddie walks up to Steve's room and bursts out laughing at the doorway, because Steve is standing there, wearing layers upon layers of clothes and looks like the fucking Michelin Man made of sweaters.

"Stevie, what the hell is this?" Eddie asks, barely holding in his laughter.

"I'm gonna be your motivation to study", Steve answers with a confident smirk on his face.

"And how are you gonna do that, hm?" Eddie questions, slowly approaching Steve.

Steve just lets Eddie watch him for a while, gives him time to get over his amusement, before he speaks up.

"Every time you get a question right, you can remove a piece of clothing off of me."

That makes Eddie stop in his tracks, suddenly very interested, the tip of his tongue darting out to wet his lips as his imagination runs wild.

"So by the time we're out of questions", Steve continues, but Eddie hurries to interrupt him by finishing his thought for him: "You're gonna be out of clothes."

"Exactly", Steve muses, grinning at Eddie, proud.

"Fuck, baby", Eddie sighs.

"Yeah, that'll be your reward", Steve snickers, pleased with his plan after Eddie's reaction.

Eddie lets out a dramatic groan before he slumps to sit down at the desk Steve points at so that they can get right to work.

It feels like hours upon hours of torturous teasing as Eddie forces himself to focus, and Steve keeps him in check when he gets a question wrong but still tries to sneakily trick Steve into stripping.

He keeps getting closer and closer to his reward with each correct answer, though. And it's always a sweet victory.

But it gets harder the less clothes Steve is left with, until Eddie's achingly hard in his jeans while Steve stands next to him in nothing but his underwear, waiting patiently.

It takes everything in Eddie to focus on that last question, a stupid fucking math problem that turns out to be easy-peasy and he gets it right. Before Steve can even open his mouth to congratulate him on this very successful study session, Eddie is tugging him closer and grabbing at his underwear.

"You're gonna pass with flying colors, Eddie", Steve hums as Eddie bends him over the desk where he has just been so viciously tortured all evening long.

Steve spreads his legs wide open and Eddie parts Steve's cheeks to find Steve's been plugged up and ready to go the whole time.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Stevie, you're such a tease", Eddie moans, undoing his jeans and getting his aching hard cock out. "You're gonna be the death of me", he groans as he slowly tugs the plug out, listening to Steve moan softly, as Eddie admires Steve's wet hole and strokes his straining cock.

"Told you I was gonna be your reward", Steve all but purrs, and that's the only coherent thing he can say before Eddie fucks him six ways to Sunday for the rest of that night.

[inkformyblood]

stuck on you (COD Kinktober 2024 Day 20)

09 Ghoap, Stuck in a Wall, Ace-spectrum Ghost. Canon Era. Lemon.

Riley didn’t think this day could not get any fucking worse until it did.

“All right there, Riley?” Captain MacTavish isn’t quite in view; there isn’t enough wriggle room for Riley to tip his head back so he can see the man looming over the collapsed door frame above him but he still tries, lashing one leg backwards, heel angled up just enough to— 

There’s the dull impact against something solid, not MacTavish’s bollocks like he’d been aiming for, Riley’s foot caught securely and fucking raised to be hooked under MacTavish’s arm like he’s a fucking toddler throwing a fit. 

“Fuck you, you fucking gobshite. If you’re not going to make yourself useful, then fuck off.”

MacTavish doesn’t even flinch at the barrage of curses thrown at him, continuing to trace his fingers over the exposed sliver of skin at Riley’s calf. Riley doesn’t need to see him to be able to picture his grin, the slow languid spill of it like ink dropped into water, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes cut into sharp multifaceted relief. “Warm out, isn’t it, Riley?”

Not only is Riley stuck in a literal hole in a wall, just enough space to breathe and swear and not enough to wriggle free, but his Captain is going batty. 

Riley snarls through gritted teeth, “If you say so sir.” He couldn’t tell anymore, sweat pooling on the nape of his neck, soaking his balaclava, stinging his eyes with every misplaced blink. His sunglasses had slid down his nose earlier, harsh daylight carving a sundial across the floor as he waited.

”’s only acceptable that I try to keep you shaded while we wait for the exercise to finish and you can get to medical.”

“Not fucking going to medical.” Riley knows he’ll wind up in medical one way or the other, knew it when the dust had settled and he wasn’t immediately dead, but he’ll be damned if it’s not going to be an argument first.

“So,” MacTavish continues like he hadn’t even spoken, his voice as measured as would be if he’s reading from a mission briefing, “best if I stand closer, aye? Like here.”

Riley’s head snaps up, nearly knocking himself out on the rubble behind his skull. “You’re enjoying this.”

MacTavish huffs out a quiet laugh, his hips flush against Riley’s arse, the heft of his cock unavoidable. “I am, my mouthy little lieutenant stuck in a wall? If I was any younger, would’ve cum in my boxers at the sight of you.”

He rolls his hips once and Riley tries to follow the motion reflexively, his raised leg tugging against MacTavish’s hold as his other leg wavers, grit catching against his sole. 

“Give me a yes, Riley,” MacTavish murmurs. “Or we’ll stop and wriggle you free and send you off on your way to medical with a sticker for good behaviour. Can sort myself out no bother.”

Would be easy to just keep quiet. He’s not had much of a libido since his resurrection, barely enough to be noticed before, but he likes making MacTavish feel good, a warm sense of pride getting to warm his belly when the other man bruises his hips and groans into his neck. 

“Yes,” Riley says, tipping his hips into MacTavish’s cock as best he can, and the other man groans, his grip tight on Riley’s leg before he hooks his other hand against Riley’s hip and begins to grind in earnest.

[amethystarachnid]

MUTANT BODYGUARD - part II

⤷ JAMES LOGAN HOWLETT

ᯓ★ Pairing: James Logan Howlett x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Click here to read part 1

ᯓ★ Genre: fluff and spicy (I mean, it's Logan...)

ᯓ★ Story type: short story

ᯓ★ Word count: 6k

ᯓ★ TW(s): jealous and a little possessive Logan, reader has to play a love interest in a movie and her co-star makes stupid jokes and flirts with her

ᯓ★ Timeline: doesn't follow a timeline in the x-men movies, just...maybe before days of future past?

ᯓ★ Request: Can you do a part 2 on the bodyguard Logan with the actress like shes playing another famous actor love interest and Logan gets jealous ( @st4rrlighttt)

ᯓ★ From: Marvel Bingo, Bodyguard romance x Age Gap

ᯓ★ Comment if you want to be added to the taglist (specify if you want the everything taglist or for a specific character)

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo (requests open)

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ If you are a Charles Xavier lover click on this link!

ᯓ★ English isn't my first language and this isn’t proof read

As the weeks pass, your relationship with Logan seems to settle into a strange sense of normalcy, despite the whirlwind of public attention surrounding you both. The tabloids are relentless, but true to Logan’s word, he brushes it all off with a shrug and a smirk, never letting the flashing cameras or whispered rumors affect the way he treats you. He’s present, caring, and somehow, the protective nature that once seemed intimidating now feels like a comforting constant in your life. You’re not used to this—to someone being so entirely in your corner, unbothered by the world’s judgment.

But as the days roll into weeks, you feel the pull of your career tugging at the edges of your quiet bubble with Logan. The script for your next project—a romantic comedy—arrives, and it’s everything you’ve ever dreamed of. The lead role is challenging, a huge opportunity to show your range as an actress. The director is a big name, and the production is star-studded. It’s exactly the kind of role that could elevate your career to the next level.

But there’s one complication. Your co-star, the love interest in the film, is none other than Jason Reed—a rising actor with a notorious reputation for being charming, flirtatious, and a bit of a womanizer.

Logan hasn’t said much about it, but you can tell it’s been on his mind. You’ve noticed the way his jaw tightens whenever the subject comes up, the way he changes the topic whenever the script or Jason’s name is mentioned. You didn’t want to bring it up either, unsure of how to navigate the delicate line between your career and your personal life.

That evening, you’re sitting on the couch, the script in hand, when Logan walks in, looking as brooding as ever. He glances at you, and his eyes flicker to the script on your lap.

“You start shooting tomorrow, right?” His voice is casual, but there’s a tension underneath that makes your chest tighten.

You nod, biting your lip. “Yeah, first day of filming.”

Logan crosses the room and sits down beside you, his presence as grounding as ever. He’s quiet for a moment, then he speaks, his voice low. “You gonna be kissing that Jason guy?”

The question catches you off guard, and you glance at him, searching his face. There’s no anger there, just… something else. Something raw and unspoken.

“It’s just acting, Logan,” you say softly, placing your hand on his arm. “You know that.”

He grunts, clearly not convinced. “I’ve seen the way he looks at women.”

You sigh, not sure how to ease the tension. “I’m a professional. So is he. We’re just doing our jobs.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve seen guys like him before.” Logan’s voice is a low growl, and you can tell he’s trying to keep his emotions in check. “And I don’t trust him.”

You place the script on the coffee table and turn to face him fully. “Logan, you have nothing to worry about. This is my job. It doesn’t change anything between us.”

He runs a hand through his hair, leaning back on the couch with a frustrated sigh. “It’s not you I’m worried about, it’s him.”

“I know,” you whisper, leaning closer. “But you don’t have to protect me from this. I can handle it.”

Logan’s gaze meets yours, intense and conflicted. For a moment, you think he’s going to argue, but instead, he reaches for your hand, pulling you into his lap, his arms wrapping around you in a way that feels both possessive and protective.

“I trust you,” he says, his voice rough but sincere. “I just don’t like the idea of some smooth-talking actor putting his hands on you, even if it’s just for a role.”

You kiss him gently, hoping to soothe the storm brewing behind his eyes. “You’re the only one I want, Logan. You know that.”

He kisses you back, his lips firm against yours, but there’s still a trace of tension in his body. “Yeah, well, don’t expect me to sit around and play nice if this guy steps out of line.”

You smile against his lips, knowing full well that Logan means it. His protective streak is part of what makes him who he is, and while it can be overwhelming at times, there’s a part of you that finds comfort in it.

The next morning arrives all too soon, and you find yourself standing on set, dressed in character, nerves buzzing under your skin. Jason Reed is already there, flashing his trademark grin as he saunters over to you.

“Y/N! I’ve been looking forward to this,” he says, his voice smooth and charming, his eyes scanning you in a way that makes you feel a little too seen.

You give him a polite smile, keeping your distance. “Ready to work?”

“Always,” he replies, but there’s a glint in his eye that makes you wary. He leans in a little closer, lowering his voice. “You know, I’ve been hearing a lot about you and your new… boyfriend.”

You stiffen slightly. “Let’s keep things professional, Jason.”

He holds up his hands in mock surrender, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “Just making conversation.”

The first scene goes smoothly enough, but as the day progresses, the tension between you and Jason becomes more palpable. He’s good at what he does—charming, charismatic, and undeniably attractive. The camera loves him, and you can see why audiences swoon over him.

But with every take, every lingering touch or gaze, you can’t help but feel a gnawing sense of unease. It’s not just about the scene or the acting—it’s the way Jason looks at you when the cameras stop rolling, like he’s testing the waters, seeing how far he can push.

By the time lunch rolls around, you’re more than ready for a break. You head to your trailer, hoping for a few minutes of quiet to collect yourself. But when you open the door, you find Logan sitting there, his arms crossed over his chest, a stormy look in his eyes.

“Logan,” you say, surprised. “What are you doing here?”

“I thought I’d stop by. See how things were going.” His voice is calm, but the underlying tension is unmistakable.

You close the door behind you, walking over to him. “You didn’t have to come.”

“I wanted to,” he replies, his eyes scanning your face, searching for something. “So… how’s Jason?”

You sigh, sitting down beside him. “He’s fine. It’s just work.”

Logan’s jaw tightens, and he leans forward slightly, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “He better remember that.”

You reach for his hand, squeezing it gently. “Logan, I can handle him. You don’t need to worry.”

“I know you can handle yourself,” he says, his voice softening slightly. “But I also know guys like him. And if he crosses a line, I won’t be sitting on the sidelines.”

You smile, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

As the afternoon unfolds, you can feel the weight of Logan’s presence on set. It’s both a comfort and a reminder of the delicate balance you’re trying to maintain between your professional life and the man who’s quickly become so much more than just a protector.

When the final scene of the day comes—a pivotal moment where your character shares a passionate kiss with Jason’s—you feel Logan’s eyes on you, watching from just off-camera. You take a deep breath, reminding yourself that this is just acting, just a scene.

But when Jason leans in, his lips brushing against yours, you can feel the intensity of Logan’s gaze burning into you. And as the scene ends, you catch a glimpse of him, jaw clenched, eyes dark with a mix of jealousy and something more primal.

As the director calls it a wrap, Jason pulls back, his grin easy and self-assured. “Not bad, huh?”

You force a smile, trying to shake off the awkwardness. “Yeah, good work.”

But as you turn to leave, Logan is already by your side, his hand finding yours, pulling you close. His touch is possessive, a silent reminder of everything unsaid.

Jason’s eyes flicker to Logan, and for a brief moment, there’s a challenge in the air, an unspoken tension that lingers between the two men.

“See you tomorrow,” Jason says, his grin never wavering.

Logan’s grip tightens around your hand. “Not if I see you first.”

You stifle a laugh, nudging Logan as you walk away, but the tension between them is impossible to ignore. As you leave the set, you realize that the lines between your world and Logan’s are blurring more and more, and you’re not sure where this story will go next.

The next morning arrives with a bright sun streaming through the windows of your trailer. After a quick breakfast, you’re buzzing with anticipation and a hint of anxiety about filming your scenes with Jason. But knowing Logan is by your side eases your nerves. You’re both navigating uncharted waters, but you’re determined to keep everything as professional as possible.

As the day progresses, the energy on set fluctuates between light-hearted banter and intense moments of focus. You do your best to keep things casual with Jason, but his flirtatious demeanor makes it increasingly difficult. Each take, every lingering look feels heavier, and you can see Logan’s tension growing with every interaction.

By lunchtime, you’re more than ready for a break. You sneak into your trailer, hoping for a moment to collect yourself. Just as you settle in, the door swings open, and there stands Logan, looking ruggedly handsome as always.

“Hey,” you say, smiling as you watch him step inside, closing the door behind him.

“Hey yourself,” he replies, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Thought I’d find you in here.”

“I need a break from all the flirting,” you joke, rolling your eyes. “It’s exhausting.”

“Yeah, I can imagine,” he says, his expression shifting to something more serious. He steps closer, his hands finding your waist, pulling you in as he lowers his voice. “You don’t have to deal with that alone, you know.”

You lean into him, feeling the warmth radiate from his body. “I know. That’s why you’re here, right?”

“Exactly.” He tilts his head, capturing your lips in a soft kiss. The world outside fades away, and it feels like it’s just you and him in this moment. You melt into him, deepening the kiss as your hands tangle in his hair.

Time seems to slip away, and you’re lost in the warmth and comfort of his embrace. The kiss is soft and tender, a reminder of how far you’ve come together.

But just as you pull away, breathless and smiling, there’s a sharp knock on the door, causing both of you to jump apart.

“Y/N! Are you in there?” Jason calls from the other side, his tone light but a hint of impatience evident.

Logan’s expression darkens slightly, and you can see the muscles in his jaw tighten. “Just a minute!” you shout back, shooting Logan an apologetic look.

“Perfect timing,” he mutters under his breath, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

“Logan, it’s fine. We’re just—”

“I’m not letting him come in here,” Logan interrupts, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’re my girl now.”

You feel your cheeks flush at his words, a mix of warmth and pride flooding through you. “I know,” you reply softly, stepping closer to him, drawn to his protective energy.

The knocking grows more insistent. “Y/N! I need to talk to you about the next scene!”

Logan huffs, clearly agitated. “Yeah, well, he can wait a minute.”

“Logan,” you say gently, trying to ease the tension. “Let me just talk to him. It’ll be fine.”

He watches you for a moment, the intensity of his gaze penetrating. “Just remember, you’re with me now. You don’t owe him anything.”

You take a step back, feeling the weight of his words. “I know, but I want to keep things professional. We can’t let this interfere with work.”

He gives you a reluctant nod, still looking a bit possessive. “Fine, but I’m staying right here.”

You chuckle, knowing he won’t budge. You head toward the door, preparing yourself for the encounter. You take a deep breath before swinging it open.

Jason leans against the frame, a confident smile plastered on his face. “There you are! I was just wondering if we could go over the scene together.”

You nod, doing your best to keep the situation light. “Sure, let’s go over it.”

But as you start to step out of the trailer, Logan moves to stand beside you, his posture relaxed but his presence impossibly dominant. You can feel the tension radiating from him as he folds his arms and leans slightly closer to you, as if to make it clear to Jason that you’re not going anywhere without him.

“Hey, man,” Jason greets Logan casually, a hint of surprise flashing across his face. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Yeah, well, I’m just making sure Y/N is good,” Logan replies, his tone edged with an unmistakable possessiveness. “You know how demanding the job can be.”

Jason raises an eyebrow, a smirk creeping onto his face. “I get it. Protecting your girl and all.”

You shoot Logan a warning glance, but he doesn’t seem to care. The way he’s standing, shoulder-to-shoulder with you, sends a clear message: you’re taken.

“Just remember, it’s still a work environment,” you interject, trying to ease the tension. “We’re here to focus on the film.”

Logan looks down at you, a soft smile breaking through his seriousness. “Right. But that doesn’t mean I can’t keep an eye on things.”

Jason chuckles, though there’s a flicker of annoyance in his eyes. “No problem. Just let me know when you’re ready to rehearse.”

You take a step forward, hoping to diffuse the situation. “We’ll be right out, Jason. Just give us a second.”

As Jason turns to leave, Logan leans down, whispering in your ear, “You know he’s going to be trying to push my buttons all day, right?”

You can’t help but laugh softly. “I know, but we can handle it. Just remember, I’m with you. Always.”

Logan pulls back, his gaze softening. “Yeah, I just want to make sure he knows it.”

With that, you step out of the trailer, feeling Logan’s presence lingering beside you. As you walk back to the set, you catch Jason’s eye, and he flashes that charming smile again, but this time you’re not swayed. Not with Logan standing strong beside you.

Filming continues, and though Jason attempts to play up the flirtation during scenes, you feel a new sense of confidence in your relationship with Logan. Each time Jason leans a little too close or delivers a line with a little too much innuendo, you can feel Logan’s gaze on you, fierce and protective. You catch his eyes, a silent conversation passing between you: you’re in this together.

The final scene of the day arrives, and it’s the climax of the movie—a passionate confession followed by an even more passionate kiss. You and Jason stand across from each other, the tension in the air electric.

“Ready?” Jason asks, a hint of mischief in his voice.

“Let’s just get it over with,” you reply, feeling a twinge of nerves. You glance toward Logan, who is watching from the side of the set, arms crossed and an expression that says he’s not impressed.

As the director counts down, you take a deep breath, channeling all your emotions into the moment. Jason steps closer, his face hovering inches from yours, and as you start the scene, you can feel the weight of Logan’s gaze burning into your back.

The kiss comes, and you pour everything into it, knowing that the reality of your feelings lies just beneath the surface. As the kiss deepens, you feel a spark of rebellion against the situation, and you realize just how much you want to distance yourself from Jason’s advances.

The director yells “Cut!” and as soon as the command rings out, you pull away, your heart racing. But as you step back, you catch Logan’s gaze again, and this time it’s different. There’s an intensity in his eyes, a silent acknowledgment that you’re his, and he’s yours.

As Jason makes a joke about the scene, trying to lighten the mood, you can see the way he’s trying to maintain his charm, but it doesn’t faze you. You turn to Logan, who’s stepped closer, his presence radiating a sense of ownership that sends warmth cascading through you.

“Good job out there,” he murmurs, his voice low as he tugs you closer.

“Thanks,” you reply, feeling a rush of warmth at his proximity. “I was just thinking about how much I’d rather be kissing you right now.”

Logan grins, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Trust me, you’ll get plenty of that later.”

Just then, Jason approaches, his confidence unshaken. “So, Y/N, you think we can work on that scene a bit more later? Maybe grab dinner?”

You don’t hesitate. “Actually, I have plans,” you say, shooting a quick glance at Logan, who looks like he could take on a bear if he had to right now. “With Logan.”

Jason raises an eyebrow, his smirk faltering slightly. “Really? You’re going to let him keep you from doing some real work?”

You don’t flinch. “Logan isn’t keeping me from anything. I’m choosing to be with him.”

A flicker of surprise crosses Jason’s face, but he quickly recovers, his charm returning. “Well, I guess you’ve made your choice then.”

You smile sweetly, a sense of triumph surging through you as you turn to Logan, who’s watching the exchange with an amused expression.

“Let’s get out of here,” he says, the possessive glint in his eyes returning.

As you walk away from the set, hand in hand with Logan, you feel

a rush of exhilaration. You’ve stood your ground, and for the first time in a long while, you feel empowered.

The world beyond the set may be full of distractions and complications, but in this moment, with Logan beside you, everything feels right.

The night of the premiere is electric. Flashbulbs flicker in rapid succession as fans line the barricades, shouting out for autographs and pictures. The energy is infectious as you step onto the red carpet, the roar of the crowd sending a rush of adrenaline through you. The premiere of your romantic comedy has been highly anticipated, and tonight feels like the culmination of all the hard work you and Jason put into the film.

You take a deep breath, standing tall in your stunning gown, feeling the press of eyes from every direction. Beside you, Jason looks every bit the charming leading man, his arm casually draped across your back as the two of you wave to the crowd. It's all part of the act—selling the chemistry you had on-screen—but tonight, there’s a difference. Logan is here.

Your eyes dart to where Logan stands just behind you, dressed impeccably in a dark suit, but not in the way that draws attention. He blends into the crowd of security personnel and handlers, his gaze steady as he watches over the event. He’s doing his job, but you know him well enough to sense the tension beneath his cool exterior.

As you step onto the main stretch of the carpet, reporters rush forward, jostling for your attention. Jason leans in, giving them his signature grin as he holds you a little closer, making the moment look picture-perfect. But you feel Logan’s gaze on you, like a tether grounding you in the midst of the chaos.

A reporter thrusts a microphone toward you and Jason, her eyes wide with excitement. “Y/N! Jason! You two had such amazing chemistry in the film. What was it like working together on this romantic comedy?”

Jason is the first to answer, his voice smooth and confident. “It was fantastic. Y/N is an incredible actress, and working with her just made everything feel natural. The chemistry was easy—when you’re working with someone as talented as her, it just clicks.”

You smile graciously, playing along, though your thoughts are half-focused on Logan’s presence just behind you. “Jason made it really easy to get into character. We had a lot of fun on set, and I think that translated on screen.”

The reporter’s eyes light up, sensing an opportunity for more. “You two seem to get along so well. Was there ever a moment where the lines between acting and real life blurred?”

Jason chuckles, leaning in closer to you, his voice dropping just enough to seem intimate. “You know, there were definitely moments where it felt very real,” he says, giving you a wink that sends the crowd into a frenzy of excited murmurs.

You feel a flicker of discomfort, though you keep your smile firmly in place. It’s all part of the show. But as you glance toward Logan, you catch the flash of something protective in his expression, though he remains stone-faced and professional, arms crossed as he keeps his distance.

You clear your throat, quickly steering the conversation back to the movie. “Well, we were definitely dedicated to making sure the audience felt the connection between the characters. We wanted it to be as authentic as possible.”

The reporter nods eagerly, then shifts her attention, sensing the drama just beneath the surface. “Speaking of real life, Y/N, the press has been buzzing about your relationship with Logan Howlett. It must be a bit strange to have your boyfriend here tonight—especially since he’s working as security. How does that dynamic play out, especially with all the chemistry between you and Jason?”

The question hangs in the air for a beat, and you can feel the intensity of the moment building. The flashes from the cameras seem to grow brighter, and for a second, you wonder how Logan is feeling, hearing his name brought into the public eye like this. He’s always been fiercely private about your relationship, careful to keep things professional in public.

You force a confident smile, even though you know the question is loaded. “Logan is amazing, both personally and professionally. He’s been so supportive, and I’m really lucky to have him by my side.”

Jason jumps in, clearly enjoying the extra attention. “Logan’s a good guy. We all know this is just part of the job. Y/N and I have great chemistry on screen, but off-screen? She’s got her guy.” He says it with a playful tone, but you can sense the way he’s subtly stirring the pot.

You glance toward Logan again, your heart tightening slightly when you see the set of his jaw. He’s doing his best to remain neutral, but you know him too well. He hates being reduced to just “the bodyguard” in moments like this, especially when Jason’s tone carries a subtle undercurrent of smugness.

The reporter doesn’t miss a beat. “It sounds like there’s a lot of respect between everyone involved, but there’s no denying the fan theories out there—people are rooting for a real-life romance between you and Jason. How do you handle that?”

You laugh lightly, the sound carrying over the crowd. “I think people always want to believe in the stories they see on-screen. But the reality is, we’re actors doing our jobs. Jason and I had a lot of fun working together, but off-screen, we’re just friends.”

Jason leans in again, this time more for the cameras than the conversation. “Well, friends with great chemistry, right?”

The fans nearby scream in excitement, but you feel Logan’s tension like a heavy cloud hanging in the air. You can practically sense the way his muscles have gone rigid, his eyes locked onto the scene unfolding before him. It’s clear Jason is playing it up for the cameras, leaning into the narrative of a possible romance to feed the buzz around the movie. But it’s a fine line he’s walking, and you know it’s testing Logan’s patience.

Before the conversation can go any further, another reporter jumps in, changing the subject to the film’s themes and comedic elements. You breathe a silent sigh of relief, grateful for the brief reprieve.

As the interviews wind down and you begin to make your way down the carpet, you feel a hand gently press against the small of your back—Logan’s hand. He’s finally close enough to offer a small, reassuring touch, hidden from the view of the cameras but grounding you nonetheless.

“You okay?” he murmurs, his voice low enough for only you to hear.

You nod, giving him a quick, grateful smile. “Yeah. Just the usual.”

His eyes flicker with something protective, but he keeps his expression calm. “He’s pushing it,” Logan says quietly, nodding toward Jason, who is now posing for photos with a group of fans, all smiles and charm.

“He’s just playing the game,” you reply softly, squeezing Logan’s hand in reassurance. “But don’t worry. Everyone knows who I’m really here with.”

Logan’s gaze softens, and though he says nothing more, you can feel the weight of his unspoken words. He’s here, standing by you—always.

The night on the red carpet had been buzzing with excitement, and for the most part, you had managed to navigate it smoothly. Between the interviews and the endless flashes of cameras, you had kept your cool, smiling for the press, exchanging quips with Jason, and doing what you were there to do—promote your movie. But Jason was testing Logan's patience, and deep down, you knew it was only a matter of time before things came to a head.

It happened just as you were wrapping up your final photo op. Jason, standing far too close for comfort, leaned into your ear and said in a voice just loud enough for the reporters to catch, “You know, Y/N, if we ever wanted to try out that chemistry off-screen, I wouldn’t mind.”

His tone was playful, clearly intended to stir the pot for the cameras, but the implication was unmistakable. You shot him a sideways glance, your smile faltering for a split second. The crowd ate it up, eager for any hint of drama or flirtation, but you could feel Logan’s eyes burning into the back of your head.

You knew that was it. The moment Logan would break his iron-clad professionalism.

As soon as the cameras were out of view, Logan was by your side, his hand resting firmly on your lower back, guiding you through the narrow hallway leading to the back of the theater. His grip was tight, possessive, and you could sense the tension rolling off him in waves. You barely had time to register what was happening before he steered you towards a nearby restroom.

With a swift motion, Logan pushed open the door, pulling you inside with him. The click of the lock echoed in the small, dimly lit space, and suddenly, you were alone with him, the noise of the premiere muted behind the thick walls.

“Logan—” you started, but your words were cut off as he turned you to face him, his hands gripping your waist, pulling you flush against his body.

His gaze was intense, darkened with something primal and possessive. “He doesn’t get to say that to you. Not in front of me, not in front of anyone,” Logan growled, his voice low, rough, and vibrating with frustration.

Your breath caught in your throat at the intensity of his words, but there was something thrilling about it, too. The raw need in his eyes sent a shiver down your spine.

“He was just playing it up for the cameras, Logan. It’s part of the game,” you said, your voice a little breathless as his grip tightened.

Logan’s lips curled into a smirk, but there was no humor in it—just a simmering, barely controlled jealousy. “I don’t give a damn about his game. You’re mine, Y/N. And I’m going to make sure you remember that.”

Before you could respond, Logan’s mouth was on yours, crushing against your lips with an urgency that took your breath away. His kiss was fierce, claiming, his hands sliding down to your hips as he backed you up against the cool tile wall of the bathroom. You gasped, your hands instinctively grabbing the lapels of his jacket, holding on as the heat between you two surged.

His lips moved from your mouth to your neck, kissing a path of fire along your skin. “No one else gets to make you blush like that,” he murmured against your throat, his stubble grazing your sensitive skin and sending a wave of desire coursing through you.

“Logan,” you breathed, trying to keep your head clear, but it was hard to focus with the way his hands were roaming your body, fingers sliding over the fabric of your dress, exploring every curve. His touch was possessive, almost territorial, but it ignited something deep within you—a craving that only he could satisfy.

His hand slipped up the slit of your dress, fingers brushing against the bare skin of your thigh, and you could feel the restraint in him, the way he was trying to hold back even though every fiber of his being wanted to take things further.

“Do you know what it does to me, hearing him talk to you like that?” Logan’s voice was a low rumble, his lips brushing against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “Knowing that you’re mine, but he’s standing there, acting like he has a chance?”

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. “Logan…you know you’re the only one I want.”

His eyes darkened at your words, and he captured your lips again, this time slower but no less intense. His hands slid up your sides, teasing the edge of your dress as his tongue danced with yours, a slow, intoxicating rhythm that made your knees weak.

You could feel the heat between you growing, the way his body pressed against yours, hard and unyielding. The tension that had been simmering all night finally boiled over as Logan gripped your hips, pulling you even closer, as if he needed to feel every inch of you against him.

His mouth moved back to your neck, biting gently at your skin before soothing it with his tongue, leaving a trail of heat that made you gasp. “I need you to say it,” he growled, his voice rough with need. “I need to hear you say you’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” you whispered breathlessly, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. “I’ve always been yours.”

That was all it took. With a low growl of satisfaction, Logan’s lips crashed against yours again, his hand slipping further up your thigh, fingers teasing the bare skin there. The feel of his touch, the intensity of his kiss, made everything else fade away—Jason, the red carpet, the cameras. None of it mattered.

Logan pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, his breathing ragged, his hand still resting possessively on your thigh. “Good,” he whispered, his eyes locking onto yours. “Because I don’t plan on letting you forget it.”

The tension hung thick in the air between you as he pressed his forehead against yours, his body still flush against yours, the heat between you practically crackling. There was a promise in his gaze, one that sent your pulse racing.

“Now let’s get back out there,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear one last time. “Before I forget myself completely.”

With a final, searing kiss, Logan reluctantly pulled away, his hands slowly releasing you, leaving you breathless and wanting more. You straightened yourself, smoothing your dress as best you could, trying to regain your composure, even though your pulse was still racing and your mind was spinning from the intensity of it all.

Logan unlocked the door, stepping aside to let you exit first, his hand brushing the small of your back as you reentered the chaos of the premiere. But the look in his eyes as he glanced at you, that dark, possessive glint, reminded you that tonight, no matter what anyone else said or did, you were his girl. Always.

The soft morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room. You lay nestled against Logan’s chest, his arm draped around you, holding you close. The events of last night still played in your mind, each moment more vivid than the last. Logan’s possessiveness, the intensity of his touch, the way he had claimed you without hesitation—it left you breathless. Now, in the quiet aftermath, wrapped in the warmth of his embrace, everything felt right. Safe. Like you belonged here, with him.

Logan stirred beside you, his grip tightening around your waist as he nuzzled his face into your hair. His chest rumbled with a soft, contented sigh, and you couldn’t help but smile, feeling the heat of his body pressed against yours. The night had been intense, filled with passion that neither of you had been able to hold back. But now, in the calm of the morning, it was peaceful, comforting.

Your phone, which had been resting on the nightstand, buzzed. At first, you ignored it, not wanting anything to break the serene bubble you and Logan had created. But then it buzzed again—and again.

With a groan, you reached over, grabbing it. Logan, still half-asleep, tightened his hold on you and mumbled, “Ignore it.”

You chuckled softly. “I wish I could.”

Unlocking your phone, you were immediately greeted by a flood of notifications. Texts, social media mentions, even missed calls. Your brow furrowed as you scanned through them, trying to make sense of the sudden flurry of activity.

Then, one message caught your attention. It was from your publicist: "We have a situation. Reporters are already running with a story about you and Logan being… intimate at the premiere last night. They saw you leave the bathroom together."

Your heart skipped a beat as the realization hit you. The bathroom. The heated moment with Logan. You hadn’t even considered that anyone might’ve seen you. The adrenaline, the need to be close to him—it had clouded everything else.

Logan sensed your tension and lazily opened one eye. “What is it?”

You hesitated, biting your lip, then handed him the phone. He glanced at the screen, scanning the message, before tossing the phone back on the nightstand with a nonchalant shrug. “So?”

“So… some reporters saw us leave the bathroom,” you said, half-embarrassed, half-amused. “It’s already making headlines. I guess they didn’t expect us to be so… open.”

Logan chuckled, the sound deep and rough, sending a shiver through you. “They can write whatever the hell they want. Doesn’t change anything.”

You tilted your head to look up at him, his expression completely relaxed, almost amused. “You really don’t care, do you?”

“Why would I?” His fingers traced lazy circles on your bare skin, a slow, deliberate motion that made it hard to focus on anything else. “Everyone already knows we’re together. So now they know we can’t keep our hands off each other. Big deal.”

A laugh bubbled up from your chest at his carefree attitude, and you rested your head back against his chest. “I guess I’m not used to being so… public about things like this.”

“Trust me, sweetheart,” Logan murmured, his lips brushing against your temple, “this might actually do us a favor. If Jason or anyone else was thinking about getting too close, this’ll make ‘em back off. They’ll know exactly who you belong to.”

His possessiveness, that underlying hint of jealousy, was so distinctly Logan. Protective, fiercely loyal, and unapologetic about claiming what was his. It was one of the things you loved most about him. There was no pretense, no games—just raw honesty.

You shifted, propping yourself up on one elbow so you could look at him fully. “And what about you?” you teased, your fingers tracing the outline of his jaw. “What if the press decides to make a bigger deal out of this?”

Logan’s eyes met yours, a glint of mischief in his gaze. “Let them. I don’t care what they say. What matters is right here,” he said, his hand coming up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing across your bottom lip. “You. Me. That’s all that matters.”

The sincerity in his voice made your heart swell. Logan wasn’t like anyone else you had ever been with. He didn’t care about the opinions of others, about the noise that came with being in the spotlight. All he cared about was you—and making sure that the world knew you were his.

You leaned down, pressing your lips to his in a slow, languid kiss, letting the warmth of his touch sink into you. “I love you, you know that?” you whispered against his lips, feeling the truth of the words settle deep inside you.

A soft smile tugged at the corner of Logan’s mouth as he pulled you closer. “I know,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble in his chest. “And I love you.”

The phone buzzed again, but this time, you ignored it. Whatever the press had to say, whatever headlines were spinning—none of it mattered. All that mattered was this moment, wrapped in Logan’s arms, where everything else faded away.

You had never felt so sure, so secure. With Logan by your side, you could handle whatever came next—reporters, Jason, the whirlwind of public attention. It was all noise compared to the quiet, steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your cheek.

And as the morning sun streamed through the window, casting a golden glow over the two of you, you knew that no matter what the world said or did, Logan was right. This — right here — was all that truly mattered.

I'm a sucker for soft Logan I'm sorry. If you like the story don't forget to like, reblog and maybe even leave a comment or a follow to read more of my stories! <3

[pusheen]

[e-grill001]

Lemons. Yes....

Лимоны. Да. Кто как, а я люблю их только в чае☕