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🎵Now I know ya’ll be lovin’ this shit right here. L. I. M. P. Bizkit is right here🎵
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visionsofmagic · 7 months
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day 6: roronoa zoro [cock warming]
࿓ synopsis • you ask to zoro whether he needs any help or not, and in return, he makes you sit on his cock so that it can get warm while he’s sleeping.
―❦ nsfw, opla!zoro, f!reader, reader is being needy & brat, pussy slapping, pet names, teasing, swearing, ‘is all! • 1.2k • a man that takes all my attention to himself in an instant in every type of universe; live action, manga, and anime. I chose to write for la!zoro version ‘cause why not? enjoy, hope I did everything right! [kinktober m.]
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“stop moving, you're distracin' me.”
his deep voice cuts your actions of trying to stay still on his lap, adjusting your position so that your numb legs will fix, but, the struggle causes your pussy to clench around his length because of sudden movement which ends up by earning an unsteady thrust. looking at his face, hands gripping the collar of his sleeve, you see his closed eyes, trying to continue the nap he’s taking in the middle of the day.
 “sorry –“ you say, smiling innocently knowing he cannot see, “I didn’t mean to, it’s just –“ you try to find a solid word to describe the situation you’re in now but the weight of lust running through your pussy takes your brain away, wanting to break free, letting yourself go and wasting the last thirty-four minutes waste, waking zoro up, being a greedy brat – only to make him not sleep, instead, fuck you. “so much.”
you can’t bring yourself to say what you’re thinking aloud – just fuck me already! Just move this thick cock and fill me up! – pathetic.
you’re here, sitting down on his cock, warming it, being useful.
the moment of the morning came into your mind; the crew went to bring food and new clothes to the ship, and when they left, only you and zoro were on the ship, you said ‘I wanna be useful for you’ because he’s still healing and you wanted to help – anything, you added, which was a bad idea – maybe, it wasn’t that bad though.
zoro, being a greedy boyfriend even if he tries to hide it, decided to make you a useful one – for his damn cock – to warm it up!
“so much?” he teases you, taking you back to reality, making the sensation on your pussy grow bigger each passing time, moving his hips, acting as if he just adjusts his position like you did minutes ago – only this time, it’s an act – to try you, seeing how much you can handle this. folding his arms, he opens his eyes slowly, an eyebrow is raised, questioning, “what’s so much? I even didn’t begin to fuck you, did I, doll?”
opening your legs wider, challenging him, a whimper leaves your mouth yet zoro doesn’t show any sign of being greedy to fuck you – oh, what self-control!
but you’re not done yet. “it seems you will never do,” you say, shrugging, hands on his shoulder building up to his neck, playing with the hair on his neck – the most breathtaking man you have ever seen – he’s so beautiful that you would beg anytime now but you should try first – to break him into the point in which he will let himself go and move his hips. “I know I am here for the help – to warm your cock,” you point to the sight in front of him – your pussy beautifully covering his thick cock, wetness that comes out of you soaking his veined length. “am I helping?”
opening his arms, he puts them behind his head’s back instead as he leans to the wall of the chair you’re sitting on – eyes travel from your tight pussy to your face, meeting with your innocent smile and sparkling eyes.
“u-huh,” he says, trying to understand where you’re heading with this question, because he knows you well enough to realize you want him to move, yet stubborn and prideful to beg, not until the right moment which zoro waits to arrive. “warming my cock so well that I can feel you dripping into it – hot.”
nodding to him, heat rushes to your face at the sudden compliment, making you gain a confident manner, and continue on with your act; being a fucking brat, using his jealousy to achieve your goal – you would feel bad under other circumstances but not today, not when you want him to devour you – he’s hard to resist, and you’re so greedy to be a good girl.
“anything for my crewmate,” not boyfriend – a crewmate. it takes his attention, eyes on your face, daring you to go on with piercing gazes, jaw getting tight, straight face expression that screams danger. it only turns you on further. “I will make sure to provide my service to the captain as well than because he can need – agggh – zoro –!”
your words are cut by him; raising your body up a little until his tip releases you, and then, without missing a heartbeat, putting it down on his length, thrusting into your dozy pussy, earning a scream out of your mouth.
holding his shoulder tightly, you try to stay in balance while he keeps doing that without any particular rhythm and steadiness so that you get cockdumbed mind right away – all dizzy, just moaning, feeling him shoving his dick into you, balls hitting the ass – finally!
“is this what you wanted, brat?” he asks, hands open your skirt by damaging its buttons, nearly tearing it apart, cupping the breasts through the fabric of your bra before letting them watch how they bounce in sync with your body, raising up and down on his cock with more rapid pace now – devouring you – the things you wanted for a long time. “want me to break that pussy, pretty doll – ohhh – uhmm – y/n – you – you will fuckin’ get it!”
his hands are positioned on your waist, looking down, seeing your clit getting wider with each of his hard and strong thrusts, warming it with all the juices you make – you literally soak now, close to the edge, and zoro smirks at you the moment he hears the crew entering the ship.
his possessive and rough side takes control of his mind – his soul as he picks you up, you already begin to beg for him to put his cock inside, pleases coming out of your parted pink lips that you bite so hard. you let him turning your body, abdomen touching the surface of the bed, cock’s tip resting on the entrance of your pussy, then, he slaps it with his dick, a hand finds your neck, putting your face down onto the pillow – his body hovering behind you as your ass gets higher and higher.
it feels so vulnerable to be in this position as if you’re his own fucktoy to play with, and you can’t deny the fact that even the thought of it can make you cum in an instant.
“zoro – aggh – I –“ you try to say when his dick slaps your clit once again, your body jumps – feeling both shy and shameless at the same time but he cuts you out, cock enters you in one go, jolting your body forward.
“cut it. you don’t want to waste your breath now, you will need it when I make you scream my name enough to make all the crew hear it,” he chuckles – the rings of danger echo inside your head, making you look behind and see him; standing on his knees, eyes on your face, a smirk is visible that gives chill down to your spine at the sight – his glory has one meaning – is that he will not leave this room until others – and your brat brain understands only he can have you like this.
“will make sure everyone knows who’s fuckin’ you day and night, including you, you dumb doll. should’ve learned it sooner, but, I’m always open to teaching you how to be a good fuckin' girl for me.”
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❦ tagging: @lilvampirina & @snowprincesa1 & @dookiemeshibear *cuties*
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hairmetal666 · 3 months
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They start kissing on stage as a joke.
The night before the first time, they're at an afterparty, pounding shots, and Eddie is reading aloud a piece that just came out in Rolling Stone. "'One of the most noteworthy parts of Munson and Harrington's unlikely pairing is their chemistry on stage. It's like these two men--one on his way to being the latest metal god, the other an indie rock wunderkind--are two parts of one musical whole. Their singing, their playing, even their bodies twine and flow with assuredness; where one goes, the other follows without question. They share a single brain-cell and that cell is music'."
Steve giggles, pours some more Grey Goose into the glass. "If they say that now, could you imagine what would happen if we, like, kissed on stage or something."
"What the fuck, Harrington?" Eddie splutters, having just thrown a drink back.
"I don't know, other bands do it!"
Eddie snorts. "I'm cutting you off." He reaches for the bottle and the suggestion is forgotten for wrestling over the liquor.
Steve barely remembers it in the morning. Doesn't think about it at all as he gets ready to go out on stage.
They're playing one of the instrumental breakdowns when it happens. They're leaning into each other, Eddie smiling over his shoulder at him, their eyes locked, bodies moving together. "You wanna?" Eddie mouths at him.
Steve nods before the question actually registers and by then Eddie's warm, soft mouth is against his and he just-- completely forgets what he's doing. His hands still on the guitar strings, and he melts a little, going completely boneless when Eddie grips the back of his head, pulls him deeper into the kiss. t's over almost as quickly as it started, Eddie pulling away and swirling to the mic to start the next verse.
The kiss sinks into Steve's bones, and that's before it becomes a regular feature of their performances. After that night, they're never at the same time during the show, all initiated by Eddie, all over before he can catch his breath; each one chaste and surrounded by people but somehow more intimate than any make out.
He and Eddie, they're friends, bandmates, collaborators. They've known each other since they first started out, forging an immediate connection with they stumbled upon each other hiding out in the garden at some industry bigwig's party. And as much as he loved his friend, never once in that time had Steve considered wanting Eddie.
But now, now he falls asleep with the ghost of Eddie on his lips, goes into each show with a thrum of anticipation, catches himself thinking how beautiful his friend is when he's all rumpled and disheveled from a night in the tour bus bunks.
They've always been easy with physical affection, but once the kissing starts they're constantly in each other's space, idly playing with hair, laying across laps, heads on shoulders, twisting together on the tour bus couch. Steve is ruined with every touch, every moment; he can't get enough.
The first time Eddie uses tongue destroys every last piece of Steve's composure. They've added a new song to the setlist, a remixed version of Eddie's hit "Prince Charming". It's hard, heavy, sexy, one of Steve's favorites. And in the middle of it, right in the middle, Eddie shoves him against a low platform, kisses him like he's trying to own him, tongues twining eager and wet and full of sinful promise. It's like that every show after, Eddie kissing him deep and thorough, like he's trying to lick up every drop of Steve.
He is, unquestionably, fucked. Unquestionably falling. Can't properly fathom how he'd gotten himself here, desperate for Eddie's kiss, as performative as it may be.
They're packing up equipment after a show. Eddie's hair is piled in a messy bun and Steve is trying not to blatantly stare at the curve of his neck, the stray curls against his pale skin. Eddie's gesturing at something, says, "Can you grab those cords, swee--Steve?" He hands them over without thought, notices that Eddie's face is shining red. He's called away to deal with packing the guitars, forgets all about it, but at their next show, Eddie doesn't kiss him.
They don't talk about it.
Eddie doesn't try to kiss him again.
A week after Eddie stops the kiss, they have a night off between shows. He needs to get out of his head, goes out with Robin. He gets back fairly early, but all the lights are off in the bus. It makes him panic in a way it shouldn't; they've always done their own things. Still, he rushes on board, flips on the lights, his absurd heart beating too hard.
Eddie is curled up on the couch, face pressed to the pillows and covered with his hands. The panic kicks up a notch.
"Eddie?" He steps closer, slowly reaching out to grip Eddie's shoulder.
He jerks upright, earbuds slipping free, phone sliding down his hip. "Steve?"
His face is wet, tears actively slipping free from his eyes as Steve watches.
"What happened? Are you hurt?" His hands flutter around Eddie's arms and face, searching for bruises or wounds.
"I'm fine, Harrington," he chokes out. "Though you were out with Robin?"
"Yeah, I was, but Chrissy called. You know how useless she gets. But that doesn't--you--you're crying. What's wrong?"
Eddie's smile is a wobbly little thing, refusing to stick on his face. "Oh, you know, the usual. Fell for the wrong guy."
Steve forces down the gut churning hurt at hearing that Eddie's in love with someone, intent on comforting his friend. He tries to slip his arm around Eddie's shoulders, but Eddie shrugs him off. It jostles Eddie's phone again, slipping it toward Steve and activating the screen. He has a split second where he's looking at the cover of his own first album, before Eddie's snatching it out of reach, scrambling up from the couch.
"I'm fine." He swipes his sleeve over his face. "It's nothing."
And Steve is putting it all together, the being in love and listening to Steve's music, the kissing and how it ended.--
"Eddie." He sounds all wrong, choked and garbled.
Eddie doesn't turn around, is stuffing his feet into his boots. "I'm--I gotta go clear my head."
He walks towards the door and Steve just--"I've been obsessed with you since the first kiss," he says. Eddie stops, hand curled against the door. "We've been friends all this time and I didn't--I never realized. And then we kissed and--it's all I've been able to think about."
Eddie turns then, facing him, expression unreadable."Steve, what are you--"
"I love you. I'm in love with you." It comes out fast, all jumbled, but he can't stand Eddie leaving, not now.
"You--?" Eddie blinks, bites his lip. "That's not possible."
Steve smiles, can't help it. "It is, though. Turns out, I can't get enough."
Their eyes lock; neither speaks. Steve's heart pounds so hard it might spring free of his chest. Eddie moves first, crosses the small distance between them to pull Steve into his arms.
It's not a kiss, but Steve buries his face against Eddie's neck, breathing him in, feeling the echo to the pound of his own heart. "How long?" Steve asks.
Eddie's soft laugh vibrates through him. "Since I saw you walking in that garden and thought, 'jesus christ, Prince Charming is real'."
Steve pulls away to stare at Eddie in disbelief. "But that's--your--the song?"
"They're kinda all about you, Stevie. But that one most of all." Eddie whispers. His eyes glisten.
"Fuck, Eddie." He doesn't mean to whine, but he's not in control of his voice anymore. "I'm sorry I didn't--" He shakes his head. "I'm all yours, Ed. Whatever you want."
Eddie's thumb catches against Steve's bottom lips, eyes transfixed on his mouth. "Everything, sweetheart. I want it all."
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saetoru · 9 months
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。the dictionary definition of a rich boy
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synopsis. that rich guy who won’t stop asking you out is your partner for this project—send help
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contents. pre dating rich boy! gojo, college! au, implications of a zenin being pushy on the first date, satoru being distraught you went on a date lol, pre relationship shenanigans with the cutest loser boy !!
word count. 3.8k (it’s literally all just him being a handful)
notes. thank you niku my most cherished gojo stan for comming this (and giving me the most ridiculous tip) i adore you so much :,) mwah 💋
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he’s late—gojo is late. in fact, he’s very late, by forty-five minutes and thirty-two seconds to be exact. you aren’t really the count-by-the-second type of person, but somehow when it comes to that irritating, smug, too-talkative brat that you’re stuck with…well, you can’t help but be petty and use the seconds against him too.
he shows up close to an hour after your agreed time, waltzing in with a grin on his face—and, oh, you should kill him. he has the audacity to send you a wink when he walks over, coming up to your table and pushing his sunglasses down his nose just a bit to look you in the eyes over the lenses. 
what kind of person wears sunglasses indoors? surely only the kind that are nothing but trouble.
“aw, you’re here already,” gojo hums, “that excited to see me?”
“you’re late,” you spit.
“am i? i could have sworn—”
“now it’ll get dark by the time we get through what we planned for today,” you glare. he looks enthused, positively delighted by the statement—it’s almost as if you’ve offered him candy. 
“well, then i’ll just have to walk you to your apartment,” he offers smoothly. 
what a jackass. of course, just as expected, he’s still attempting to worm his way into your personal life (and likely your pants) in the most obnoxious of ways. over your dead body, however, will you ever allow him to know where you live, let alone accompany you on the way. you value your sanity, and having a conversation with gojo satoru longer than you absolutely have to seems like the most efficient way to fry every nerve and brain cell you have left.
“absolutely not,” you grit, “you can call me an uber. you pay.”
“alright,” he nods, “i’ll get an uber for you. but i’ll need your number to make sure you made it home safe. otherwise, what kind of partner would i be?”
typically, any normal pair of partners are meant to exchange numbers for a project—it would be the easiest form of communication, and more importantly, you can spam call if gojo decides not to carry his weight instead of just hoping and praying he checks his socials. but you can’t let him have your number—he’s not trustworthy enough for that. the last thing you need is him bombarding you with texts, or worse: calls, in the middle of work and class. so instead, you strictly inform him that any and all communication will occur via social media.
he pouts at that—it’s a cute pout, you have to admit. it’s slightly dangerous, too, because had you not had the self-control you do, you might have caved. but then he lights up at the prospect of you adding him back on socials. 
i’ll get your number one of these days, he says confidently. his confidence is as aggravating as the way he clicks his pen in the middle of class. he still chooses to sit right beside you despite all the free and very available seats the entirety of the lecture hall has. 
but no, he insists on sitting right next to you—and you? well, you have to hope you don’t get charged with homicide by the end of every class from the constant clicking he makes you endure. despite all that, gojo is surprisingly smart, which means your project might not be so doomed. 
he’s annoyingly smart, actually—he never takes notes, and just when you think the professor has him cornered by asking him a question when he’s seemingly dozing off, he answers immediately with the correct answer. 
you hate him.
“absolutely not happening,” you grumble, opening your laptop, “anyway i think we should start with—”
“well, i hate to inform you,” he sighs sadly as if it genuinely pains him to say this, “but i’ve actually deleted all my socials.”
“what?” your eye twitches.
“yeah,” he nods, “it’s a bit of a cleanse if you will. staring at your screen all day and finding value in fake posts is not good for mental health, you know? i’m trying to be more in tune with myself. it’s been a real self-journey.”
before the end of this project, you might either be a college dropout or an inmate at the county jail. you’re not sure, either is equally as possible.
“gojo satoru, i am sick of your games,” you spit, “we both know—”
“and i would hate not being in touch with my partner since it’s a crucial part of this project for us to work together,” he hums, something of a smug look plastered on his aggravatingly gorgeous face, “that thirty percent deduction for ineffective partner communication would be such a shame to get when we’re working so hard already on this, wouldn’t you agree?”
is he threatening you? for your number? with your grade? he is, you realize—and you clench your fist tightly around the phone in your hands as he eyes it with a knowing look on his face. he has you right where he wants you, whether you like it or not.
“you’re an asshole,” you spit.
“i’m a mental health advocate,” he gasps—he has the nerve to act offended, even as he’s so obviously enjoying working you up like this. you wish he’d drop dead immediately. maybe you could take his card from his wallet as his cold body lays lifeless on the table and order yourself a new laptop if he did—that would be ideal. 
“i saw you post on your story last night—”
“you didn’t watch it,” he pouts, “i posted a shirtless gym selfie just for you—wait a second, you pay attention to my story, huh?” he cuts himself off with a smirk, wiggling his eyebrows at you, “c’mon, you don’t have to force yourself to skip them. you know you wanna watch them.”
“no, i don’t,” you seethe, “it was just the first one at the top. stop being self-important—”
“anyway,” he drawls, eyeing your phone again. you want to splash your coffee in his face. “i’ll need your number,” he sniffs, “the crushing disappointment of you skipping my story made me realize i’m too focused on getting social media validation, so i’m taking a break. it’s the best thing for me to do in my headspace right now. hope you understand.”
“are you kidding me?” you stare at him. he grins before shaking his head.
“i would never joke about mental health,” he says seriously—it’s not as serious as your desire to slap him, however.
“fine,” you take a long, slow sip of your coffee to calm down, “give me your phone.”
“oh, you’re gonna set your own contact?” he brightens, immediately handing you his phone. it’s brand new—the newest model, in fact. it’s barely been a few days since it dropped. truthfully, you’re not even sure why you’re shocked—of course, he, of all people, would upgrade immediately. “how intimate,” he gushes, “it’s almost like we’re going on a date—”
“do not text me outside of project purposes,” you interrupt, thrusting the phone back into his hands, “got it?”
“you got it,” he grins triumphantly.
—————
like all things he does, gojo finds a roundabout way to keep his word without actually keeping it. it’s his secret talent, you think—finding loopholes through all the technicalities of things.
hey when ur free can u read over my portion? i just finished
btw r u going to that frat party this wknd? u don’t seem the party type haha but u should come 
i’ll introduce u to suguru! he’s my best friend he’s super nice u’ll like him
oh and when do u wanna meet this week? promise i’ll be on time this time ;)
you make sure to only respond to the questions regarding your project—just because he technically kept his word and started the conversation centered around the project before getting off topic doesn’t mean you have to indulge him. and the way he types is infuriatingly annoying—who shortens every possible word like that? only him, you think.
okay, maybe you’re just nitpicking now, but every time you see his name pop up on your screen, your mood sours tenfold. you decide to answer as dryly as possible.
k i’ll look. we meet same time as last.
the period at the end should add the perfect touch—you grin to yourself in pride at that one. instantly, bubbles pop up and indicate he’s typing again. your smile very quickly drops.
wow ur a rly dry texter aren’t u?
that’s ok i don’t judge
so how bout the party? 
i can be ur escort ;) 
it’ll be fun!
from his side of the screen, gojo watches as your contact shows notifications silenced at the bottom. he pouts to himself—no party, then, he thinks.
—————
gojo satoru, the guy who seemingly has everything he could ever want, likes you. 
frankly, he’s not really sure why—at first, he finds you mildly amusing, and he thinks it’d be fun to have a short fling with you perhaps. somewhere along the line, however, that changes. he watches you dedicatedly take notes in class, no matter how tired you seem from work the night before. he notices the way you chew on your bottom lip when you’re really focused—it’s actually very cute, he thinks. and he’s entertained by the way you always have some smart little retort waiting on your tongue. you’re not boring—and more than anything, you leave him a little humbled. it’s refreshing, and he kind of likes it, if he’s being completely honest.
he’s never liked anyone before—it’s a weird feeling. at best, he’s had a crush where he could appreciate that someone is generally pleasing to the eye and has a personality that might mesh well with his, but he’s never yearned for someone before. 
it just so happens to be his luck that the same person he wants more than anything in the entire world (for the first time ever, too) seems to hate his guts. it also happens to be that the same person he wants more than anything is currently getting asked out by some kid from the zenin family. right in front of him. and you’re saying yes. 
why on earth would you say yes to a zenin of all people? don’t you value yourself? 
gojo can admit that he’s had his fair share of heart robbing and tear inducing moments—he’s not exactly someone with the best track record for commitment, but at least he doesn’t use people for his own benefit. plus, he does, in fact, actually plan on committing to you. that zenin boy most certainly can’t be any good news if he’s anything like naoya, who gojo has met on a multitude of occasions, and knows very well is a scoundrel of a guy. 
“see you at nine?” he hears the zenin (what was his name again?) ask you. you nod, smiling sweetly. 
why don’t you smile sweetly at him like that? he buys you coffee every week. sure, he only gets to buy you the coffee because you have no choice but to meet him for the project, but he even offers to get you a slice of cake—you don’t ever accept, though, so he ends up eating both. but you do like coffee, very strong coffee that’s probably not sweet enough for his liking, but you enjoy the coffee he buys you nonetheless, and that has to count for something.
“sure, see you at nine,” you hum.
gojo watches in absolute shock (and abject horror) as you look down shyly. as soon as the zenin boy walks away, he stomps up to you.
“hey, what gives?” he asks petulantly, making your face paint on that irritated look that it always seems to adopt when he’s in the vicinity—how rude.
“what do you mean?” you ask tiredly, “i don’t speak toddler, so please use your words—”
“why’d you say yes to that zenin boy—”
“he has a name. it’s—”
“who cares what his name is? he’s an asshole! he won’t treat you right even if his mother’s life is on the line—”
“oh, and you would?” you raise an eyebrow, glaring at him. how is it his place to tell you who’d treat you right and who wouldn’t? how is it his place to even care?
“i would,” he gasps at the accusation, “you’d date a zenin but not me? how come?”
“because you’re annoying,” you counter like it’s obvious.
okay, now that is technically fair—gojo has heard his fair share of you’re annoying’s from people in his life. in fact, a good amount of them come from his own mother, but he’s also dashingly handsome, very good in bed, has soft hair, is tall and muscular, can buy you whatever you like, and can be smart and funny too if you really don’t care for those kinds of things. he’s the entire package and more. and more importantly, he’s not from the zenin family, and that automatically means you’ll actually be treated with an ounce of respect.
he looks at you incredulously, feelings a little hurt. “that’s not true! name one annoying thing i’ve done—”
“you laughed in the middle of me speaking in class.”
“that wasn’t at you! suguru showed me something funny on his phone—”
“and you took like twenty minutes in line ordering the most sweetest drink on the menu while i was running late—”
“you can’t use that against me, that’s not fair! i’m a paying customer, i should be able to get whatever i want. plus, it’s technically not my fault you were late.”
“you rubbed in the fact that you had a black card.”
“you mentioned it first!”
“you were late to our first meeting for the project.”
“okay, that was an honest mistake! people are allowed to make those, you know—”
“i don’t want to go out with you,” you say frustratedly, “and it’s really annoying when you act like a spoiled brat that can’t handle the word no and keep on insisting, okay? so leave me alone unless it’s to discuss our project—which weighs fifty-five percent of our grade, by the way, so don’t even think about getting lazy.”
he is not lazy, he wants to argue.
but before he can, you roll your eyes and take a step to walk around him, leaving him there to blink in shock. okay, he thinks with a huff, so you’re playing hard to get. that’s no matter, he’s good at the chase anyway. 
—————
the date doesn’t seem to have gone well. gojo can tell because your eyes are slightly red and puffy, and you’re extra grouchy today in class. your professor seems to have noticed, too, because instead of calling on you today, she calls on gojo extra as a rare show of mercy. 
gojo doesn’t mind—this class is surprisingly easy, and he’s bored half the time anyway. he might as well indulge the uptight professor in an ugly brown pencil skirt and answer her pretentious questions that aren’t as complex as she thinks they are. 
“so,” he finally breaks the silence, “how was your date—”
“if you’re looking for a chance to say i told you so, just get it over with, you jerk,” you grumble. he raises his eyebrows in surprise before both hands go up in surrender.
“i wasn’t,” he says genuinely, “you just…uh…you look upset, is all.”
you hesitate for a short second, gauging his sincerity for a moment before sighing and slumping on the desk, cheek resting on your arm. gojo resists the urge to poke the soft flesh—it’ll probably make you mad, and you’re already in a bad mood. 
“he was…pushy,” you say quietly, “i don’t really believe in taking things far on the first date. he didn’t like that.” instantly, his fists clench tightly, eyeing you from the side carefully, almost in concern. “nothing happened,” you wave off, “but he did make me feel disgusting,” you mutter.
“yeah, well, he is a zenin,” he points out, “they’re…well, my family’s known them for a while. my mom hates them.”
you look over at him in mild interest, raising an eyebrow. “don’t tell me there’s drama in the rich community,” you gasp, “i thought you all just came as one to sip fancy wine and laugh at the poor together.”
he snorts, throwing you a toothy grin that you think for a moment is kind of cute—but that doesn’t mean he’s any different from the rest of the rich folks. someone of gojo satoru’s caliber has no business mixing with someone of yours—it’s common knowledge. gojo has everything he wants, and if he doesn’t, it’s a simple matter of asking before it’s his. there’s simply no way you can mold into his world to be what he needs you to be, and when the time inevitably comes when he realizes you’re not what he wants, well…you’d like to save yourself the wounded pride and crushed soul while you can. 
“sometimes we have fancy appetizers too with the wine,” he jokes, “don’t forget those.”
“oh, my apologies,” you chuckle. gojo likes it when you laugh, he decides. it looks much better than when you’re glum—he thinks seeing your lips quirked in anything other than a smile is a waste of your perfect features, and he can’t have that.
“my mom married my old man in this stupid arranged marriage or something,” he explains casually, like it’s just the norm. you suppose it is—for the rich, at least. you wonder briefly if gojo will have a marriage planned for his future, too, and you wonder if he’s okay with that. surely it’ll be some wealthy and fancy socialite of a girl that fits his family’s standards. someone who’s not you—not that you care anyway, you wouldn’t marry him regardless. “my grandma wanted her to marry the zenin, but she said no. said he treated her like a piece of meat every time they met, so she settled for my dad instead. lucky her, 'cause now i’m her son,” he beams. 
settled—something about the way he says it makes you think his parents must not really care for each other as a husband and wife should. it makes you think briefly about what his childhood might’ve been like, not watching his parents happy and in love the way they should be. but still, the way gojo talks about his mother is fond, with a gentle smile on his face as he recalls the things she’s told him. you can’t help but smile a little too.
“i think that makes you the lucky one,” you snort, “you’d still be her son. just that you’d be a zenin.”
he crinkles his nose at the thought, dramatically shivering and making you giggle. “gross,” he gags.
“well, now you have her to thank,” you hum, “your dad would’ve been…whoever the zenin she was supposed to marry is.”
“yeah, well, trust me,” he mumbles, his smile dropping ever so slightly, “my old man’s not that big of an upgrade from a zenin. even my grandfather’s sick of him. imagine being such a douche, your own dad can’t stand you.”
you’re learning more about gojo in one sitting than you ever imagined (or planned) to learn—part of that is because he seems like he’s the type to overshare on the first meet; the other part…well, you have to be honest with yourself, it’s not exactly a bad pastime hearing him talk about himself. gojo is an odd piece of work, and you can’t say you hate learning about the little pieces that come together to make him so weird. 
okay, perhaps weird is a bit rude, you think—he’s…unique.
“oh, so you’re the dictionary definition of a rich boy, huh?” you hum, resting your cheek on your hand as you sit up and face him—gojo, for a quick moment, feels his heart stutter when you talk to him like that: with your undivided attention like he’s the only one in the room. 
“what makes you say that?”
“daddy issues is like…the first thing in the rich boy starter pack.”
he laughs at that, smooth and almost sweet—it’s a dangerous thing. it’s easy to attract you to him, like a bee to honey, with the way his lips curl like that, showing off his dimples. but the bees can easily turn into maggots—and you don’t want to find yourself as a dead carcass by the end of this.
“i don’t have daddy issues,” he says smoothly, “that old man should sleep with both eyes open. if anything, he has son issues.”
“you’re hands down the oddest person i have ever met,” you mumble.
“what was that? did you say hottest? yeah, i know—”
“shut up, jackass,” you scowl, shoving his shoulder when he leans closer with a bat of his lashes. he laughs, and so do you—and just for one, quick, momentary instance, gojo satoru is not so bad. dangerous and a bad choice maybe, a setup for a big mistake perhaps, something you should stay away from, in fact. 
but not so bad. 
“how about i show you what it’s like to go on a date with a gojo,” he grins, winking easily. he’s persistent—very persistent, you note. “you might like it a lot more than a zenin.”
“no, thank you,” you hold a hand up, “never going to happen.”
“never say never,” he hums, “you might eat your words.”
—————
“hey, satoru?”
“that’s not my name.”
“that actually is your name,” you say tiredly.
“hmph,” satoru rolls over, dramatically tugging the blankets over his body as he shuffles away from you, “not to you, it’s not.” 
you sigh, pursing your lips at his antics. “oh my god. okay—hey, toru?” you correct yourself. and just like that, he turns back around, grinning brightly as he inches closer until his head is resting on your chest.
“yes, baby?” he says sweetly, earning a roll of your eyes as your fingers weave into his hair. it’s soft—you don’t think you ever want to let go.
“it’s way better dating a gojo, by the way,” you murmur, “than a zenin.”
“oh yeah?” he grins smugly, arm draping over your body as he kisses your jaw, “i told you it would be, didn’t i?”
“i haven’t dated other rich families to compare, though,” you tease, “you might get replaced.”
“unlikely,” he chuckles, “no one,” there’s a kiss to your jaw, “will love you,” another kiss to your cheek, “like me.”
finally, there’s a slow, soft kiss to your lips—and when he kisses you like that, you have no choice but to believe him.
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satoru sooooo sends multiple texts back to back he just like me for real
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sluttywoozi · 25 days
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The Hair Tie Test
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Jihoon didn't mean to classically condition you to get wet every time he puts his hair up, but he can't say he minds the result.
Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~2.5k | Pairing: ljh x reader | Genre: smut
Warnings: implied consent, oral reader rec., somnophilia mention, fingering, jihoon is in love w u and ur pussy
Reader notes: uses hair ties, has breasts and a vagina, wap
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Jihoon first started keeping a hair tie on him when his hair was still short and the relationship was still new. 
He picked up the habit after noticing that you always have at least two, one for you and one for anyone else who might need one. One night about three months in, you gave both away to people you didn’t even know, and then later when you got warm, you had nothing to put your hair up with. 
So before Jihoon saw you next, he bought a pack of the brand he knew you liked and tried to get used to the feeling of the elastic around his wrist. It was tight and constricting at first, but soon enough, he grew accustomed to the sensation and stopped perceiving it at all. 
The next week when you gave both of them away again, he was prepared. He acted nonchalant as he brandished his wrist, but the joyful gasp and squeal you responded with had him biting back a grin the rest of the night. 
Now that he’s let his hair grow so long, he’s started keeping two hair ties on him as well, one for you, and one for him. 
There are a few reasons why he might tie his hair up in the day to day: he gets too hot, the wind blows it into his face, he needs it out of the way to work out. 
At night, there’s only one: he’s getting ready to eat your pussy till you cry. 
You laughed the first time he stopped to pull it back in the middle of his descent, but by now, you know exactly what it means when he reaches for that hair tie. 
He’s almost sure he accidentally conditioned you, because every single time he gets between your legs after putting his hair up, you’re wet. Even if you’re fresh out of the shower, or winding down in bed, or tired after a long day of work, you’re ready for him as soon as his hair is tied back. 
He wonders if that happens during the day too. When he answers your facetime call after a workout and you see his hair is up, do you get wet? What about when he picks you up from work on a hot day? Or when he took you on that picnic date last weekend and it was particularly windy? Did you want him then too?
Today, he’s decided to find out. 
You’re having a relaxed day at home, just lounging on the couch together and catching up on shows, so there’s no ostensible reason for him to tie his hair back.
Which is exactly why he does. 
He doesn’t say a word as he starts to gather it up in his hands, brushing the strands back with his fingertips and forming a pony before looping the hair tie around it one, two, three times. He can feel your gaze on him but he keeps his eyes on the TV and returns his hand to the leg you’re resting in his lap, rubbing soft circles around your ankle bone with his thumb. 
He sees you shake your head in his periphery as if to clear it, and lets the corner of his mouth turn up in a smirk on the side you can’t see. You’re restless for the next few minutes, checking your phone and wiggling your foot and tapping your fingers on your thigh, and he decides he’ll only make you suffer till the next commercial break before checking the results of his little test. 
As soon as an ad starts to air, he’s turning in place and tugging one of your legs to rest behind him, shifting to lay on his stomach between them and tucking his fingers in the waistband of your pajamas. You look at him with wide eyes but raise your hips when he starts to pull them down, bringing your knees up to your chest so he can take them all the way off. 
He gently pushes your legs apart, waiting for you to let them fall open the rest of the way, and feels a grin stretch his lips as soon as he sets eyes on the mess of your pussy.
You’re glistening with arousal already, so wet and so fucking pretty, and he’d laugh at the fact that he accidentally Pavlov’d you if he wasn’t already busy sucking open-mouthed kisses up your thigh. 
Usually, he’s desperate to get you on his tongue, but on a lazy day like this, he feels like he should take his time, work you up slowly, tip you over the edge gently. 
So he doesn’t rush as he licks a fat stripe up the center of your cunt, languidly dragging his tongue from your entrance to your clit. He exhales a soft moan at the taste of you, lifting your left leg over his shoulder and wrapping his arm around it to reach your pussy. 
His fingers push your lips further apart so he can lap more directly at your clit, rubbing the tip of his tongue up and down before pursing his lips around the bud and sucking lightly. 
You let out a delicate sigh, one of your hands coasting down your body to pet his head, your nails scratching at his scalp and making him shiver. His other arm winds around your right leg, his hand resting on your stomach where you intertwine your fingers with his. 
Jihoon loves the quiet intimacy of moments like this, loves how you want to make him feel good when he’s doing the same for you, loves that you and him don’t need words anymore, not when you have tender hands and an unbreakable connection. 
He loves your pussy too, you’re so warm and soft and fragrant, and getting to put his mouth on you is one of a great many privileges in his life. Getting to make you cum is another, though he’s not in a rush to make that happen. 
It will, of course it will, but before that, he wants to savor you, treasure you, cherish you. 
Today, he’s about the journey, not the destination. 
You don’t seem to mind, thankfully, just laying back and letting him explore you like it’s his first time between your legs rather than his five hundredth. He’s meticulous in his study of you, his gaze traveling up your body to watch your face as his tongue glides through your folds. Your eyelashes flutter when he ever so slightly digs the tip under the hood of your clit, so he does it again before wrapping his lips around it and taking slow, deep pulls. 
That makes you gasp, makes your brows pinch together and your pretty eyes grow hazy, makes him want to abandon his plans and go faster, harder, make you cum now. But he can be patient, he will be patient, because he knows that his slow and steady perusal of you will be all the more rewarding when he finally guides you into your release. 
But if he keeps sucking your clit, that will happen before he’s ready. He moves down a bit, firming his tongue and pushing it into your entrance, groaning quietly at the heady essence that coats his taste buds. 
Jihoon loves to eat, that’s a fact everyone knows, but whenever they ask his favorite meal, he always has to lie. He’ll say steak or salmon or some kind of pasta, but if he could be honest, his answer would be your pussy. Not just pussy, but yours, specifically. 
There’s just something about the way you taste that sates his every craving, that has him thinking about it even when he shouldn’t be, that makes him want to enjoy you loudly, messily, voraciously. 
That’s how he usually is when he goes down on you, today being an outlier. 
It’s a welcome one, though, and perhaps long overdue, because he can tell how much you love it at this pace. You’ve got a dreamy look about you, and your thigh is so relaxed on his shoulder, he can feel it weighing him down. Then there’s your sounds, your sighs and hums and muted gasps telling him he’s doing something very right. 
It almost makes him want to put you to bed like this, eat you out so leisurely, you fall asleep with his head between your thighs and cum without even knowing it. He can wake you up the same way, pull you out of your dreams and push you straight into pleasure with just his tongue.  
Your pussy is luxury incarnate; beginning and ending the day with your taste in his mouth would be both a privilege and an honor. 
But then, this is too. The way you gave yourself over to him without even a word exchanged, let him get you naked and spread you out right here on the couch in the middle of the day. You’re not rushing him as he takes his sweet time relearning every inch of you, and oh, the time is sweet. 
Your pussy is sweet too, but not sweet like candy. It’s sweet like falling asleep in a patch of sunlight, like coming home after a long time away, like flowers blooming again once the frost of winter fades. 
He could live and die here, with his tongue inside of you and his nose buried in your folds. 
He’s sure he could subsist on just your pussy. Food isn’t a requirement when he has something he loves to eat even more, and your arousal wets his throat just like water does, flowing generously enough that he can drink you down and tasting so luscious that he won’t have need for anything else. 
You probably wouldn’t be opposed, you love his mouth on you as much as he loves to put it on you. He’s still obsessed with how responsive you are, even after almost two years together. 
You don’t hide a thing from him, always let him see and hear the way he makes you feel, unselfish with your noises, your reactions, and your desires. 
When your fingers tighten in his hair and you sigh out his name, he knows that means you want more, and he’s inclined to give it to you. Slow and steady wins the race and all that, but his aim is always to give you what you need, and if you need him to go faster, to go harder, he will. 
It helps that his hunger is beginning to overtake his patience. He was hoping to work you up softly, methodically, lead you into gentle waves of pleasure rather than the crashing tsunami you’re both used to, but he doesn’t have the fortitude to make you wait when he wants it just as bad as you. 
It turns out he can be disciplined in every area of his life except for eating your pussy, and maybe that should feel like a defeat. Instead, it just feels right, like he’s worshiped at your altar and now he gets to revel in your benediction.   
He shifts his greedy mouth back up to your swollen clit and starts to suck hard, his sights now set on making you cum all over his face. His bangs fall over his forehead into his eyes, obscuring his view of you, and you push them back for him, staring down at him with parted lips. 
You watch as he devours you until you can’t keep your eyes open anymore, the falling of your lids telling him you’re starting to get close. You’re making the prettiest sounds, your little moans and whimpers going straight to his cock, which is already achingly hard for you. 
This isn’t about him though, so he ignores the throbbing and doubles his efforts, groaning into your clit when your fingers tighten in his hair, pulling slightly at the roots. He’s got a sensitive scalp, not in an ‘ouch’ way but in a ‘moan when you play with his hair’ way, and that’s something you discovered very early on with how tactile and affectionate you are. 
You take advantage of this discovery often, but this isn’t one of those times, no, you’re just so close to the edge that you can’t control your hands anymore. The one holding his is squeezing his fingers, and he can’t help but think about how your pussy would do the same if he slid two inside. 
Having something filling you up makes your orgasms stronger anyway, so he decides to take back the hand holding your pussy open, giving your thigh a loving knead on his way to your cunt. He primes one finger at your entrance, and when you feel it, you sigh out a long, “Yes,” like it’s something you’ve been waiting for. 
You clench down as soon as he slips it inside, your walls fluttering as you grow closer and closer. He’s quick to sink in another, curling the tips up toward your belly and pressing them into your sweet spot. He doesn’t fuck them in and out, just rubs that ridged patch and sucks your clit until your back arches and your moans rise in volume. Your thigh starts to quiver on his shoulder and he knows you’re right there, that it’s only a matter of time before you-
“Jihoon,” you whine as your pussy contracts around his fingers in pulses, wetness seeping out around them as you tremble and buck into his mouth. He uses your combined grasp to hold you down so he can carry you through to the other side, his lips still suctioned around your clit, taking deep pulls to prolong your pleasure. He watches you the whole time, watches the bliss play out through your expressions, the look on your face combined with the feeling of your pussy swallowing around his fingers almost enough to make him cum too. 
You melt into the couch when it’s over, your face and your hands relaxing, a sleepy hum escaping you as you pet his head in thanks. 
“What was that for?” You ask drowsily, blinking your eyes open just as he pulls his fingers out and slides them into his mouth. He never wastes a drop when it comes to you, and that’s something you know well. 
Something he knows well is that you love tasting yourself on him, so before answering, he gently lifts your legs off his shoulders and rises up to press his lips to yours. 
“Do I need to have a reason?” He murmurs into your mouth, kissing you again so you don’t question him further. 
The test can stay his little secret for now, especially when he’s gathered so little evidence. 
He’ll have to try it out a few more times, just to be sure. 
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AN: fully inspired by this ask thank you anon ily
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honey-on-your-tongue · 8 months
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Nsfw/smut
Part 1 here!!
You don't know how to work with Miguel. You can't meet his gaze, can't talk to him. How are you supposed to just keep going on with your life when you heard everything? When you took a peek and saw what he was doing while calling your name?
He was jerking off to you! How are you supposed to just keep going as if nothing were wrong?!
You can't stop thinking about it, the way he'd groaned, the thick breathing, the look on his gorgeous, gorgeous face...
You shake yourself out of it. You've got work to do. The spiderverse won't protect itself...
...Maybe just for a minute?
As the memories of Miguel rush through your mind, you can feel your body grow hot. You can't stop thinking about how he'd bitten his lower lip, or how big he is. Granted, Miguel is huge in every aspect, you were just curious about that last one. And now you know.
An uncomfortable little bubble of arousal grows between your thighs, your pussy pulsating with desire.
You glance around your small corner office. No security cameras, no one else around, door closed...
Miguel did it. Why can't you?
You slide your hands down your body, between your legs, tracing your middle finger against your clothed cunt. You add pressure on your clit, shuddering at the slight relief and pleasure that flows at the touch.
You spread your legs some, adding more strength, more need to each movement. Soon, you're sweating, panting, images of Miguel invading your brain.
You can hear his breathing, see his eyes shut tight, his fist around his enormous cock...
You touch yourself until you're close. So close. Your orgasm is right there, just a few seconds away—
A knock sounds on the door before it unexpectedly swings open.
You manage to pull your hand away at the last second. And there stands the man himself.
“Miguel!” you just about squeak, trying to keep your breathing regular.
He eyes you suspiciously. “You okay?” he asks. When you don't answer immediately, he glances around your office, searching for something.
You look flustered, nervous. You're sweating and he could hear you panting across the goddamn hall.
And then he smells it. The scent of your sweet, thick arousal.
He turns back to you, not a doubt in his mind about what you were doing. His eyes sharpen, grow dark. The tips of his fangs peek between his lips.
You find yourself pressing your thighs together involuntarily.
“What's going on?” he demands, voice thick and rough.
You swallow thickly. “N-nothing. Nothing's going on.”
His eyes grow impossibly darker. “No me mientas.” Don't lie to me.
“I'm not!” you insist.
He doesn't buy it. After a long, tense pause, he pinches the bridge of his nose and says, “Don't make this harder on yourself. I know what you were doing.” The firmness and unwavering belief in his voice lets you know he really does know.
“Well I-I know what you were doing,” you blurt. Your eyes widen and your cheeks blush when you realize what you've said.
He frowns, putting his hands on his hips. “What are you talking about?”
There's no taking it back now. “I saw you,” you say. “Yesterday afternoon. In your office. I saw you and I heard you.”
By the expression on his face, you know he's aware of what, exactly, you're talking about.
“Mierda,” he curses. You just kind of sit there, eyes on his. “Mierda.”
For some reason, you can't shut yourself up. “I...I heard you say my name,” you admit, blushing as if you had any reason to be embarrassed. Well, maybe you shouldn't have stayed and watched but...still, it's not your fault he's jerking off to you.
“La puta madre,” he hisses, pinching the bridge of his nose again. “Fuck. I...I'm sorry—”
“It's okay—”
“I didn't mean—I didn't know you were listening, obviously—”
“Miguel, don't worry about it—”
“I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable—”
You keep fucking talking. “If it makes you feel any better, I was thinking about you while I did it too.”
That shuts him up. He stares at you, blinking. “What?”
You feel the need to explain. You keep fucking it up. “I-I was thinking about you while I touched myself,” you tell him. “I...don't know if that makes you feel any better, but I thought you should know.”
He takes a few steps until he's standing in front of you. “Tienes idea de lo que te va a pasar?” Do you have any idea what's going to happen to you right now?
You shake your head, terror spreading through your veins. Are you...fired? Is he going to send you back to your universe? Is he going to ban you from the spider society?
“Bend over the desk,” he instructs, his voice low and quiet, sending a shudder up your spine.
That takes you by surprise. “W-what?” you stutter.
He picks you up and roughly bends you over the desk, pushing your chest against the wood and kicking your feet apart. “I only say things once. I don't like repeating myself. You won't get warnings with me.” His hand grips your hip roughly, squeezing it hard. “Have I made myself clear?”
“Y-yes, sir,” you whine.
He grins; you can hear his smirk. “Atta girl.”
-----
@yagirlheree @sukioyakio @obi-mom-kenobi @celestia80s @manlikemilesmyguy @zaunsin @naniiiii12 @everlastlady @avatar-lover @siidmm @dhollandhs @spikedhe4rt @missing2socks @itzraven101 @miguelspookiebear @mochikomochisoft @sunset-euphoria @kishibeswh0re @m4dyy @icreatedthisat317am @keiva1000 @jakescumdump @ravisinghs-wife @tengens4th--wife @oceancerulean @pookiesmookie69 @juwandiko @aisyakirmann @ninebluehearts @vampireluvvr @saturnstringz @4imhry @iheartlinds
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Blog masterlist
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cooking up some fun with the sainz’
dad!carlos sainz jr x wife!mom!reader
summary - y/n sainz is a successfully famous chef with her own restaurant and ever since covid, she has been cooking on instagram live once a week. fans adore the sweet interactions between her and carlos and their little baby girl. 
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“mi amor, i am about to go live while cooking dinner,” you nod over from behind the kitchen counter, towards your husband whos sitting on the couch. he sets down his phone and turns to face you while you continue, “if you could just keep up with santana while i’m doing so, you know i still don’t want her face all over the media, porfa,”
“por supuesto, cariño. but you do know you don’t have to ask me to watch our child,” he lets out a chuckle as he stands, sauntering over to the kitchen where you are finishing wiping down the counters and adding extra tidiness to your lived-in kitchen. he slowly grabs both of your hands from the counter, removing the cleaning spray and rag, and intertwining your fingers. you inched closer to him and rested your head against his chest. carlos plants a soft kiss onto the top of your head as you begin your reply, “i know, carlos, but i just don’t want her running around the kitchen which is dangerous or having her face pop up more onto my screen than it already has. she’s four, she doesn’t deserve to be subjected to our lifestyle just yet,” you let out your vulnerable admission as carlos lets your left hand go and steadily strokes the back of your head instead.
“i know, i’ll keep a close eye on her,” your husband looks down at you with a quick smile before he eases you more, ”you have nothing to worry about,” with his last word he begins to bend down in order to place a kiss onto your lips.
“EWW!” your four year old yells out from the bottom of the stairs. she had very obviously just woken up from her nap with her dark hair flying in all different directions, her favorite meerkat plushie hanging from her grasp, and most importantly, a very happy piñon trailing behind her. ever since she was born, the dog followed santana absolutely everywhere. call it protection or just puppy love, it was still the cutest part of your little family. 
“and when did you wake up, señora?” you pull apart from your husband with a laugh in order to look at your daughter properly, but don’t miss carlos’ pleading gaze to ignore your daughters wishes and give him a kiss. you took one more glance back at him and kissed his cheek to meet in the middle as he released his signature smile and wrapped an arm around your shoulder. 
“ahora,” she responds while rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand and slowly beginning to trudge over to the couch. 
“mama is about to begin dinner, mija. why don’t you and i find a game to play while she does?” your husband proposes.
“okay, papi,” she says quietly before she gains some energy, “but only if we get to play hide and seek!” she squeals out in excitement. carlos laughs as you move around his hold to set up your phone and put away your cleaning supplies. 
his voice graces a higher octave, one saved particularly for your pride and joy, while matching her adorable enthusiasm, “hide and seek! santana, that is a great idea! how could i not have thought of it?” he laughs along with her as she pulls herself to stand up on the couch, legs bouncing underneath her.
“no se, papi! but i thought of it! so we do it?” she asks, looking up at him with her big, brown, wide eyes inherited from the man himself as he strolls over to her place. your husband easily scoops her up into a fit of giggles as he runs her into his office in order to plan out their game. you take this brief moment of quiet to begin the live, and continue to pull out your necessary ingredients as people begin to join. 
once enough people had joined, you share a bright smile and begin your discussion, “hola, everyone! today we are venturing over to italy for our dinner, and making some homemade pizza,” you begin to take out tomatoes and slice them as you carry on, “it sounds very simple, yet you can make it anything you want with toppings, which is the magic of cooking,” you glance up at the camera to notice the brief display of comments and continue to explain, “everything is going to be homemade here, the sauce, the dough, and the cheese! it’s a great meal especially when you have a little one who is just now becoming a bit picky,” you let out a chuckle as you think on to the many ‘no’s’ that came from your four year old as you presented her with different cuisines. one that never misses will always be pizza. 
“okay! i already made my dough last night since i knew i’d be pretty busy today, but i do have a video on how to make that if you want to know, it’s on my story in the highlights of my 'how to's',” you finished chopping up all your tomatoes and threw them into the pan with a bit of oil, “now we’re working on the sauce, so i just chopped up maybe a cup and half - ‘measure with your heart’ - as my abuela always told me, of tomatoes and toss it into a low/medium heated pan with some olive oil to cook it down,” you were about to continue, but instead were interrupted by a little giggle at your feet. you looked down at your smiling daughter as she reached a finger up to her lips in order for you to keep her location a secret. you shot her a wink and then pretend to zip your lips and throw away the key. your peripheral caught your husband sneaking around and looking near and far for the little fit of laughs that was sitting on your feet. 
“next up that i’ll work on is the cheese, we’re making mozzarella so im just going to start by putting some milk on heat using m-” 
“psst” carlos cuts you off from behind the camera, attempting, attempting, to not interrupt. once you give him a confused look he begins to mouth out ‘donde?” while confusion etches his face as well. you stifle a laugh and give him an obvious glance down to your feet in order to hint. his head falls back with a smile and he rounds the corner of the counter to catch his daughter. you view the scene playout and begin to stir around the wilted tomatoes on the stove, santana screeching in joy as carlos comes onto the screen of your live, picking up his daughter while reciting the chant, ‘i’ve found you, mija!’ ‘i’ve found you!’ and you just look on in awe. 
the comments begin to fly by at lightning speed due to the domestic bliss your family carried onto the screen. carlos, still holding a giggly santana, checks you over while looking between you and your phone, “lo siento, amor,” he stretches his puppy dog eyes towards you and you can’t help but swoon, “it’s okay, enjoy hiding from this little detective next, baby,” before carlos could even respond, a resounding sound of disgust is let out from the four year old and she squeaks out, “i your baby mama! not papi,” she holds onto her pout and crosses her arms tightly as she looks between you two. you turn the heat low on the stove for both your projects and head over to where your husband and baby are, slowly repeating back to her, “you are my baby, princesa,” bringing your hands up to her tummy you begin to make her emit her loud and infectious laughter to you and carlos. 
the comments poured over on your phone as you left your love-bubble to take a look at them, one stuck out and you replied, still holding a slight laugh in your voice, “yes, we are very happy,” and you went back to smiling at your beautiful family. 
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buckyalpine · 8 months
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Mob Bucky x virgin reader
18+
Mob Bucky x virgin reader 
If you’re wondering how bad my procrastination is, I started this in November. Anyway, I forgot to add some lines from a different fic here. There’s no plot here, literally just a scene I imagined. Please read the warnings. 
Warnings: dub con, degrading, virginity taking, innocence kink, mentions of blood, horny, feral Bucky is a warning, porn and little plot. Honestly, no plot. 
-
He knew he wanted you from the moment he saw you. Cute little sun dresses, beautiful eyes, your perfect lips, every single one of your delicate features making him crave to have you. He didn’t know what to do with himself the day he found out you were a virgin; you said it so quietly he would have missed it if you weren’t curled up on his lap. 
“My sweet innocent baby” He cooed, trying his best to contain his erection, desperate to fill you. “No ones ever touched you?” 
N-no” You shook your head keeping it buried against his neck while your cheeks burned with embarrassment. You were told to wait until marriage to do anything so you did exactly as you were told. It hadn't been a problem up until now, your heart rate beating faster, squeezing your thighs together to make that feeling go away. He was intoxicating; rough fingers tracing over your smooth skin, skimming up to the hem of your dress.
“I-I can’t” You shook your head when he nearly reached your panties, his hand coming to tilt your face up to meet his eyes. 
“Why not, darling”
“We’re-um-” You fumbled with your fingers, choking on your words "We’re not married” 
“Is that all baby?” Bucky chuckled, kissing your cheek, “You know it doesn’t count if I just touch you sweets, would that be okay?” 
You swallowed thickly, knowing it was a bad idea to give into his temptations, the words of your mother and father screaming at you to behave yourself, that were omitting a grave sin, giving into lust-
“O-okay” 
-
“It’ll be more comfortable this way, darling” He reassured you as he spread you out on his large bed, all your clothes torn off while he stripped the last of his boxers before crawling beside you. Your eyes flicked down to his thick length, your stomach clenching as it bobbed between his legs while he settled himself. 
“You can look baby, you don’t have to touch if you don’t want to” His husky voice sent shivers down your spine when he caught you struggling to look away, your eyes now fully trained on the way a stick liquid was beading from the tip of his cock. He gently parted your thighs, moving to kneel in between them, the pads of his fingers brushing over your clit making you squeak in surprise at the feeling. 
“Just your fingers?” You looked at him nervously with doe eyes as he gave you a wolfish grin. 
“Just my fingers love, you’re not doing anything wrong” He rubbed the side of your thigh comfortingly while he coated his fingers in your slick, pressing the middle one into your entrance. “Still such a good girl” 
You gasped at the gentle stretch, gripping onto the sheets when he slowly added another, pumping in and out of your pussy, groaning at the way your thighs parted further to give him better access. 
“Look at this little button” Bucky whispered, rubbing deliberate circles around your clit, watching the way you started to fall apart when he crooked his fingers, fingering you faster. Your moans were music to his ears, his other hand pulling your lip away from your teeth to keep you from silencing yourself. “C’mon, I know you feel it princess, you can cum pretty girl” 
“I-I’m gonna-Bucky-Please!-” The squelching sounds of your sopping cunt got louder as you came closer and closer to the edge, blinding pleasure finally pushing you off as you convulsed around his fingers. “Oh God!” 
“That’s it baby” Bucky slowed down, gently pulling his fingers out and licking them clean, smirking when you cracked your eyes open again, sweat making your skin glisten. He was still kneeling in front of you, precum dribbling down his shaft, his balls achingly full while you shyly peered up at him through your lashes.
He was gorgeous. 
Gorgeous enough you’d want to-
No. 
As if he could read your mind. Bucky took your hand in his, placing your palm on his cock, nearly growling at how soft you felt compared to his rough hand wen he touched himself. 
“You can touch baby, you’re still my good girl” Bucky’s voice was breathless as you hesitantly wrapped your hand around his velvety shaft, stroking his heavy cock. He kept his hand over yours, jerking himself into your fist while his eyes raked up and down your body. 
“Let me touch you darling” He nearly fell forward when your thumb swiped over his slit, “Just let me rub it on you baby, it doesn’t count sweets, you don’t have to worry” 
“Are-are you sure?”
“Of course baby” 
He promised again while you bit your li hesitation before giving him a shaky nod. Bucky groaned, slotting himself between you legs, pumping his cock before rubbing it between you folds, his swollen tip leaking all over your already soaked pussy. 
“So soft bunny” He growled, throbbing when his tip caught against your entrance before rubbing against your clit again, “Feels s’good” 
“Bucky” You moaned in his ear as he started to hump against your pussy, slotting his cock snugly between your folds, his cockhead bumping against your clit with each thrust. “Bucky please” 
You weren’t sure what you were begging for, the feeling of him slipping up and down against you between the grunts and groans he made each time made your belly clench, your eyes growing wide when he was pressed against your entrance again, 
“Bucky-Bucky we can’t-” You looked at him with frantic eyes, his heavy body now fully resting on top of you while he continued to tease his cock, softly pressing against you.  
“That’s not what you call me love, you know better” Bucky had tested the waters earlier, loving how flustered and shy you got when he insisted you call him by something else, making you even more needy for him. 
 “But-were not married daddy” You whimpered, feeling the blunt tip of his cock starting to press against your entrance while he hummed with approval. 
“I won’t move love, just-just let me put the tip in, alright? Just the tip darling” He barely waited for your permission, breaching your hole as soon as you nodded, the sharp sting making you cry out in pain. 
“DADDY!, DADDY s’too much!” You shook your head as he kept pushing in more, stretching as if he were trying to split you in half. 
“I won’t fuck you, just wanna feel it” He gasped as soon as he was fully sheathed in you, your tight walls choking his cock. “Oh fuck angel, you’re so tight, make room for my cock baby, c’mon, let daddy fuck you baby” 
“It’s too big, it hurts” You cried out, squirming and withering on the bed, your legs squeezing and tensing around him while he brought his hand to wipe your tears, pushing away the strange of hair that clung to your forehead. 
“But you feel so good love, you gonna let daddy take your virginity baby?” 
“I-but-we-”
Bucky cooed at your stammering while staying fully buried in your cunt, precum already leaking. He pulled his hips back before thrusting forward making you squeal, his eyes locked with your as he started to fuck you. 
“Stop daddy!” Your nails clawed at his back pleasure, pain, shame, guilt, lust, one too many emotions flowing through you as he moved faster, his muscles tensing, rippling down his body. “Slow down, please!” 
“But you’re making daddy feel so good baby” Bucky groaned, lost in his own world, feral over how tight you were, how you pleaded for him to slow down, his cock was too much for your tiny pussy to take. He loved the way you hiccupped and choked sobs, your greedy virgin cunt sucking him right back in each time he pulled out.  
He was sure he could smell the light scent of iron in the air, looking down at where the both of you were connected, his shaft covered in your creamy slick. Spots of red stained his white sheets, but that only seemed to spur him on more, growling and pounding you harder. 
“Oh sweet girl, did I stretch you too much?” 
“It-hurts” You whimpered, clinging onto him, biting down on his shoulder to keep from crying, you wanted to be so good for him but you could feel the pain radiating through your body, shame melting into pleasure as he drove his cock in deeper. He could feel his length swell, his balls starting to pull tight against his body when you bit down harder, the pain making him throb. 
“Gonna let daddy put his seed in you princess? Hmm? We’re not even married darling, are you gonna let my cock bust in you?” It was so wrong, all of it was so wrong but you were too far gone, too deep, your foggy brain caving, giving into everything you’d always wanted. 
“Yes daddy yes!” Your thighs trembled, squeezing tightly around his waist as the wiry hair at the base of his cock rubbed against your clit. Spots clouded around your vision as you clenched around his cock making it hard for him to move, your second orgasm ready to wash over you. 
“That’s a good slut, taking all of her daddy’s dick and letting him making a mess in her” He let out a dark chuckle as his hand came up to wrap around your throat, softly squeezing the sides. 
“M’m-not a slut” Your whimper turned into a guttural moan as he pounded you with everything he had, the bed shaking, his balls slapping your ass. “Ah-AHh fuck!!” 
“Oh but you are baby, all naked and spread out on my bed, fuck princess, m’gonna give it to you so hard, m’gonna cum so fucking hard, shit-FUCCKK” Bucky roared, as bursts of cum streamed out of his cock, the feeling of his seed making you feel warm inside. “You’re milking my cock you slut, gonna milk my fuckin’ dry the way you’re choking me, go on and milk me sweets, take it all” 
You cried out as you came around his cock, emptying him for all he was worth. He wrapped his arms around you, keeping himself warm while you nearly passed out from pleasure, shuddering in his hold. He smirked at your fucked out state, pushing his hips up making you whimper, cuddling into his chest. 
“Rest darling, daddy isn’t finish yet”  
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itadorey · 5 months
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𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐖— gojo satoru
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pairing: gojo satoru x gn!reader summary: it's hard to hide your relationship when your boyfriend has a staring problem. genre: fluff, humor (?), secret relationship notes: inspired by a real incident (aware). not revised, sorry for any mistakes </3 wc: ~2.4k
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he’s staring.
you're sitting on the couch, curled up in the corner and chatting with shoko about your hellish weeks, and he's just staring.
you keep your gaze on shoko, refusing to look at gojo as he stands in the doorway and all but ignores geto's greeting. it's a little embarrassing, really, and you can't help but spare a glance in his direction in order to give him a sharp glare. the corners of his lips tug up at your action, and he reluctantly tears his eyes away from you and greets geto with an enthusiastic hug.
"i brought cookie dough!" gojo announces proudly, puffing his chest out as the rest of you groan. he all but wilts at the sound you all make, and you can see his lips forming a pout as he gives you all an expectant look. "what's the issue?"
"last time you tried to bake cookies, you burnt them," shoko says dryly, letting her head fall back against the couch as she complains. "for someone who claims to be good at everything you sure seem to love proving yourself wrong."
"that's because i didn't read the instructions, shoko," gojo explains patiently, face smug as he smirks. "but it'll be fine this time because you'll be the one making them."
"like hell i will," shoko snaps, eyes narrowing as she turns her head to glare at gojo.
"then i'll just try my luck again, i guess," gojo says breezily, meeting her glare evenly. the two of them stare each other down for a couple of seconds before shoko lets out a loud sigh and stands up, stalking over to gojo and snatching the container out of his hands. a snicker leaves his lips as she starts to walk towards the kitchen, and it only turns into a full blown laugh when she picks up the nearest thing (which happens to be geto's water bottle) and launches it at him.
"suguru!" shoko yells once she's in the kitchen. "get in here! you're going to help me."
"i'll be right back," geto says, smiling amicably before slipping through the doorway. you turn to finally face gojo, smiling as he bends down to pick up the fallen water bottle before placing it on the table beside him. the smile remains on your face as he approaches, and he can't help but smile in return as he casually points to the now empty space next to you.
"this seat taken?"
"yeah, by shoko," you scoff lightly, shaking your head lightly when he ignores your words and plops himself down next to you. he rests his arm on the back of the couch, and his added weight has the cushion sinking in a way that forces you to lean into him.
"oh? is that so?" gojo asks, an innocent smile on his face as he inches forward the slightest bit.
"yeah," you breathe, eyes darting towards the kitchen to make sure that geto and shoko are still occupied.
"but she's not here right now," gojo teases, chuckling when you roll your eyes.
"she'll come back eventually."
"and she can sit on my other side," gojo states confidently, leaning in even further with a cocky little grin on his face. "besides, we both know she likes curling up and resting her head on the arm rest."
"but she always insists on sitting next to me," you argue, giving in and leaning in as well.
"then you can sit in the middle," gojo whispers, his lips brushing against yours the slightest bit. "that way it's a win-win for everyone involved."
"what about suguru? where will he sit?"
"who cares?" gojo murmurs, eyes fluttering shut as he leans in fully to kiss you.
"the cookies will be ready in fifteen minutes!"
the two of you spring apart, almost leaping to opposite ends of the couch as shoko peeks her head into the living room. there's a moment of silence as she glances between the two of you, and it isn't until she turns to look back at who you assume is geto that you share a mildly panicked look with gojo.
"do we wanna wait or should we just start the movie?" shoko asks, drawing your attention back to her.
"let's just start the movie," you say, willing yourself to sound as normal as possible. shoko nods in return, stepping back into the living room with geto trailing behind her. she makes her way to the couch as geto approaches the tv, gingerly plucking the remote from behind it before settling down on the ground. shoko comes to a stop in front of gojo, motioning for him to move from his spot so she can sit.
you shuffle awkwardly across the couch as gojo makes his way to the other end of the couch, sinking into the middle seat as shoko curls up on the edge and rests her head on the arm rest. you turn to look at gojo when he plops down next to you, only to be met with a smug expression that screams 'i told you so'. the tv comes to life as geto nestles himself into the spot between you and shoko, his broad back pressed firmly up against the couch and preventing you from moving to the left in fear of accidentally kicking him.
"so what are we thinking?" geto asks, tilting his head back to look at the three of you. "comedy? action? romance?"
"horror," you reply flatly, choosing to ignore the look geto had sent your way when he had suggested romance. you smirk when you notice his expression fall, and he merely grumbles something under his breath before shifting his attention back to the tv.
"any objections?" geto asks, sparing a glance at shoko and frowning when she shakes her head. "any at all?"
"just choose a movie," shoko sighs, lightly kicking the back of geto's head. it's silent as geto finally settles on a movie that you know you've all seen before, and you decide to let it slide this time because you know that dealing with a scared geto is worse than sitting through a rewatch.
you reach across gojo to turn off the floor lamp, effectively plunging the living room into near-darkness. the glow from the television is bright enough to highlight geto's uncertain expression, and you resist the urge to snicker as you lean forward to tug at his hair. he looks up at you in annoyance, rolling his eyes when you speak. "if you get too scared, you can just sit on gojo's lap, okay?"
a low snort leaves shoko's words at your comment, and geto shushes her as the movie begins to play. you quickly find yourself engrossed in the film, and you let yourself melt into the couch as the first scene plays. you make sure to stay aware of geto's reactions when you realize the first jump scare is coming up, and you're rewarded with a sharp jolt as geto does his best to hold in his gasp.
a swat to the calf is all you receive when he hears your quiet laugh, and you throw a glance at shoko in hopes of sharing an amused glance, only to stop when you notice her already looking at you. or rather, looking past you and directly at gojo.
you feel yourself stiffen as you force yourself to look back at the film, waiting for shoko so turn her attention back to the tv before glancing at gojo through your periphery. a soft sigh leaves your lips when you see him staring at you, and you waste no time before elbowing his side and subtly tilting your head towards the tv. you don't wait to see his reaction, but you do feel him shift in his seat, stretching his arm across the back of the couch before running his fingers over your shoulder lightly.
you shiver lightly at the contact, and you don't even have to spare gojo another glance to know he's back to staring at you. the next few minutes consist of the same few actions: gojo shamelessly stares at you, shoko shoots him suspicious glances, and you do your best to ignore the two of them while you watch the movie. it isn't until a phone goes off that the strange cycle finally gets broken.
"what was that?" geto asks, eyes wide and voice low as he pauses the movie. you shake your head, trying to suppress a smile at his reaction.
"my phone," shoko says, her eyes glinting with amusement. "the cookies are ready. c'mon, suguru."
"no, i'll help!" you say, jumping to your feet. you watch as shoko watches you with narrowed eyes, and can't help but sigh in relief when she merely shrugs and starts making her way into the kitchen. you pointedly ignore gojo's stare and geto's curious look, slipping into the next room just in time to see shoko pull a tray out of the oven.
"i wanna wait for them to cool down, but i also know how impatient those two are," shoko mutters, a hand on her hip as she looks down at the tray. you hold up a finger, skirting around her and rifling through one of geto's drawers before finding a spatula.
"we can just transfer them to a plate and take them back with us. besides, gojo likes them warm," you suggest, earning a nod from shoko. you trade places with her while she pulls out a plate, and you begin scooping the freshly baked cookies onto it as she leans on the counter next to you.
"so, gojo," shoko says offhandedly. "y'know, he's been staring all night."
"oh? has he?" you ask, mentally patting yourself on the back when your voice remains steady.
"yeah," she continues, watching as you place the last of the cookies on the plate before grabbing it. "just pay attention and you'll notice. it's kind of scary, if i'm being honest. if he kept looking at me with those eyes of his, i'd put in a complaint with yaga."
you can't help but giggle at her words, and you quickly wash the spatula and dry it before placing it back into the drawer. "i'll keep your words in mind."
shoko gives you a lazy smile before plucking the tray of cookies off the counter, already making her way back into the living room. "make sure to keep an eye out!"
"yeah, yeah, whatever," you grumble under your breath, following after her and taking your seat once again. you flinch when she plops the plate into your lap, but you're given no time to say anything before geto and gojo are digging into the cookies.
"they're still warm!" gojo exclaims, earning a soft smile from you. shoko watches you closely, making sure to give you a knowing look when you finally glance her way. she remains silent when geto starts playing the movie once again, only reaching for a cookie herself and curling back up on the couch cushion.
five minutes after resuming the movie, you feel gojo's knee bump against yours as he shifts in his spot, sinking lower in his seat and spreading his legs apart before leaning against the armrest on his side. you can feel shoko's prickly stare as you keep your own gaze focused on the tv, and you simply tuck your legs under you and refuse to acknowledge either one of them. it isn't long until you can feel gojo staring at you too, and you feel your face grow warmer due to all the attention.
by the time the movie ends, geto is the only one who can say he actually watched the film, and he wastes no time before leaping to his feet and letting out a groan as he stretches.
"well, i need a drink if we're going to continue with the horror movies," geto announces, turning the floor lamp back on. he leans over to snag the last cookie, breaking it in two before offering half to gojo.
"me too," shoko agrees, suppressing a yawn as she joins geto's side. "i could go for a drink."
"me three," you chime in, making a move to stand up only to be stopped by shoko.
"nah, stay here," she says smugly, placing a hand on your shoulder to keep you in place. "i'll get it for you."
"um, okay?" you respond hesitantly, watching as geto follows shoko into the kitchen. "thank you!"
"well, well, well," gojo says quietly, leaning in and drawing your attention back to him. "it seems like we're all alone."
"you're so stupid," you snort, gently pushing him away from you. he pouts at your action and you find yourself shaking your head fondly at his expression. "shoko's been noticing all the staring you've been doing."
"well can you blame me?" he asks, grabbing your hand and pulling you close. he lets his lips skim against your knuckles, and you roll your eyes when he finally presses a firm kiss to the back of your hand. "how can i not stare when i have the most beautiful art i've ever seen sitting right next to me?"
"you're so cheesy!" you hiss, ignoring the way your stomach lurches when he gently intertwines his fingers with yours.
"yeah but you love it," gojo responds haughtily.
"yeah, i do," you say softly. gojo's eyes soften at your words, and he leans forward slightly before pausing, hesitation clear on his face. you let go of his hand to cup his cheek, pulling him even closer as you run your thumb along his cheekbone. "c'mere."
gojo's lips meet yours eagerly, and you resist the urge to smile when you hear him hum happily. you scoot yourself closer to him, half on his lap as he tilts his head to the side in an attempt to deepen the kiss. you respond eagerly, giggling when his hands settle on your waist and pull you onto his lap entirely.
"i told you they were making out!"
the two of you pull away from each other when you hear shoko's voice, and you turn to give her a mildly annoyed look as she gives you a smug one in return. geto stands right behind her, lips pursed as he does his best to hold back a smile.
"yeah, we were," gojo mutters bitterly, giving shoko a dark look. "before you so rudely interrupted."
shoko only laughs at his words, and you don't have the chance to explain anything before gojo is pulling you into another kiss.
"you owe me five bucks, suguru!"
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reblogs are appreciated <3 ty for reading !!
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plumdiggity · 3 months
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There’s a standing event with my friends, we all come over to a place to hang out and drink and catch up and watch movies. The last couple of times I’ve blacked out but that’s kind of my fault for drinking on an empty stomach and no one else seems to mind me staying the night.
I’m the last to arrive, stuck in traffic, and the only spot free is right in the middle of the couch so I wedge myself in between and am immediately handed a drink. We’re just watching old vine compilation videos so it’s not weird that the video ends and another starts every few minutes. It takes me a few seconds to realise the next video isn’t vines or memes. It’s… porn. People with backs hunched wordlessly moaning and thrusting into some girl whose face is covered by another girls thighs assumedly being eaten out. It sounds brutal, balls slapping so loud I’m surprised if it doesn’t hurt. I laugh a little, about to make a joke about someone accidentally adding in their porn collection but stop when I recognise the couch. It’s the one I’m currently sitting on. I look around to gauge everyone else’s reactions but all eyes are on me.
“We were surprised that even after the 5th time we drugged you that you still never caught on. So we thought we’d skip that this time.”
“Yeah. Either you’re completely oblivious or way more of a slut than we thought.”
My eyes pivot back to the screen in time to see the camera pull back and the angle change and I’m watching myself getting manhandled into a new position. Straddling someone and hands shoving me down onto their thick cock, then pushed forward so my ass was more exposed for a second to slam into me as well. My cries are muffled and the camera turns so I see my drugged out self struggling to deepthroat a huge strap on that I’m told is going to split my tight ass if I don’t slobber it up enough.
I barely register that my glass had been taken out of my hand and my best friend has started sliding her hand up my thigh under my skirt. I don’t hear the rustling of clothing being removed but I let out an involuntary whimper when my bestie rubs her fingers over my panties and leans in close to whisper “I’m gonna make you squirt with that strap in your ass this time.”
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yawnderu · 4 months
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>Simon doesn't go to clubs, yet he'd do anything for bimbo!reader, even if it's out of his comfort zone. Adding a small dialogue of Simon being painfully brit when drunk from this post because I still giggle about it ejhfehjb
“C'mere, baby.” Your bare feet make contact with the floor as you walk to your boyfriend, who's waiting for you on the couch, a pair of stiletto heels next to him. It's a routine you know too well, putting your feet on his lap before you even realize it while he massages your ankles, offering you a small smile.
“Make sure you don't fall.” He teases and you push him away with your feet, only making him hold them in both hands and push back until your legs are folded, getting up just to steal a kiss from you.
“You rat!” Your giggle rings across the room as you try to push him away again, yet he's too strong to even move until he feels like it, sitting back down and starting to put your heels on, making sure the straps are safely secured before he helps you get up from the couch. He still can't wrap his head around the fact that you walk around in 6-inch stiletto heels with ease, but they were on your wishlist and whatever his princess wants, she gets.
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Simon doesn't do clubs. It's loud, it's crowded, and he looks just about ready to take you back home until you strut to him, a big smile on your pretty face as you pass him a third glass of bourbon. He downs it after mouthing a small ''thank you'', feeling the warmth travel down his body.
“Come dance with me, Si!” You have to scream over the music, taking his free hand before he can even think about it. He reluctantly lets you pull him to the dance floor, despite feeling so out of place. He can't resist denying you, not when you look so happy and excited to be here with him.
Your arms wrap around his neck, your body rubbing against as you dance is almost intoxicating. He looks down at you, brown eyes fully taking in the sight— your hair moving with your body as you dance and sing, a happy smile on your face before you take a sip of your pretty drink. You're the most breathtaking thing he's ever seen.
His hand goes down to your waist to support you in case you twist your ankle while wearing your pretty stilettos. He looks down at your lips for a second before his gaze locks on yours, unable to look away. Maybe it's the alcohol affecting his body, but he dares to lean down to capture your lips with his, pulling you closer and allowing your bodies to move together to the rhythm of the music. He pulls away, his hand going up to the middle of your back before he does something really stupid.
“I'm getting us more drinks!” You yell over the music, already walking away before he can stop you. He's used to drinking one or two glasses of bourbon, not four while out in a club, the flashy lights just making him dizzier. He pushes the thoughts to the back of his head, feeling your arms wrap around him from behind, taking the glass from you before you can spill it.
“Thank you.” Simon was never one for PDA, yet he's leaning down to kiss you again, his hand lingering on the small of your back for way longer than it should have. You turn around, sipping on your drink as you grind on him, too used to the clubbing scene to think about how Simon hasn't done anything like this before. Despite his stoic expression, he's actually having plenty of fun, his hand holding onto your waist to support you as you dance.
His attention is focused strictly on you. He loves how you're dancing for him and him alone. You're not dancing like this for other men or flirting with anyone— you're simply having fun with your boyfriend, and despite some of the men looking at you, you're only looking at him.
Simon lasted way longer than he thought, only making you turn around after an hour or so of dancing.
“Tired yet?” He lets your bodies sway to the generic pop song playing in the background, half-lidded eyes struggling to stay open. He drank more than he should— more than he has drank in public, and he's aware of it, yet he wants to bring you home before he's too drunk to be aware of his surroundings. You plant a small kiss on his nose now that he's laying down and he offers you a lazy grin, letting you guide him out of the club.
“Buss me a blem, love.” You raise an eyebrow at his words, his arm wrapped around your shoulder as you help him walk, not wanting him to stumble around as you make your way back home. You have the route memorized, unlike him.
“A fag.” He clarifies, making you giggle nervously as you look up at him.
“Why do you want a gay m—” A stifled chuckle comes from above you, looking at the way Simon is trying to hold back his laughter. He's way too drunk for this shit.
“A cigarette, angel.” Realization hits your face as your glossy lips turn into an ''o'' shape, face lighting up when you can finally understand what he's saying.
“Don't have that either. The other one would have been easier to get...” You drag out, fumbling with the keys to your shared apartment before going inside, locking the door behind you. You go sit on the couch and Simon immediately beelines towards you, managing to sit down in front of you and attempt to undo the straps of your heels.
Was the buckle always this tiny? His fingers feel way too fucking big for the strap, yet he somehow manages, softly rubbing your feet to help ease the pain he knows you always feel after wearing them for a long time. His cheek is resting on your lap, your hand instinctively running through his short hair, massaging his scalp with your long acrylics.
“You okay, baby?” God, he could die right now. Your words are slurred, voice becoming even sweeter, your tone laced with concern. He can only manage to nod, trying his best not to fall asleep despite how comfortable your lap is. He can barely register how you get up, dragging him up by the arms— or well, trying. The bastard is way too heavy and tall for it.
“Up.” You say softly, not wanting your boyfriend to fall asleep on the couch. He grumbles before getting up, letting you make him lay down on the couch, making sure he's on his side. He didn't drink enough to throw up, but... just in case.
You disappear into the bathroom, coming up with a wet cloth and a basket full of skincare that you want to use on him. Your drunk brain is absolutely brilliant— wanting to take care of his skin while he's about to fall asleep. You steal a kiss from his lips before running the wet cloth over his face with care, wiping down all the sweat and grease on his skin.
His brown eyes focus on you as you start to massage a cool liquid all over his face, massaging it in circles with the pads of your fingers, careful not to poke him with your long nails.
“I love you.” It slips out of his lips before he can even think about it, looking away from you. You can see his Adam's apple bob up and down, anxiously waiting for something— anything. He flinches in surprise as your arms wrap around him tightly, small giggles of relief and happiness escaping your lips.
“I love you too, Si.”
Bimbo!Reader Masterlist
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joelscruff · 1 year
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you know i don't mean it (joel miller x reader) 18+
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welcome to my 300 follower celebration! \o/ i polled my followers on which character they'd most like to see in some new smut and joel won (not surprised). this was supposed to be a drabble but ended up getting a bit longer than i anticipated, hope you enjoy! summary: you and joel get off together. that's pretty much it. you also have some unresolved feelings for him and he's being closed off. rating: 18+ explicit (mdni) warnings: smut, age gap (reader is mid 20s, joel is mid 50s), praise kink (the term 'good girl' is used maybe 432534 times), dirty talk, dom/sub dynamics (but make it soft), mutual masturbation, come-play, come-eating, this is filthy word count: about 2.5k | ao3 link
"This is the last time," he mutters under his breath, belt buckle jangling as he lays down across from you, "We can't keep doin' this."
"Yeah, yeah," your hand is already buried in your panties, index finger lightly rotating against your clit, "That's what you said last week too."
He grunts and you watch as he slips his hand inside his jeans and palms himself, squaring his shoulders and trying to relax. He pretends he's doing this for your benefit, like its you who needs help getting off, as if he's not a middle aged man who hasn't been touched by a woman in years. And it's not like you haven't offered, you've genuinely tried to give yourself to him more than a few times, but it's simply a line he won't cross.
Other lines, however, are much easier to cross. It had started out relatively innocent, something that had happened completely by chance, or at least you both led yourselves to believe it was. You'd both had the same idea one night and had ended up getting off together in the same room, you in the chair beside the fireplace of the abandoned ski lodge you'd both been posted in, him on the couch.
"Are you -" he'd gasped into the darkness when he'd heard the wet sound of your fingers a few feet away, plunging in and out of yourself at a steady rhythm.
"Like you're not," you'd hissed back, "I'm not deaf."
"Thought you were sleepin'," he'd muttered, hand stilling on his cock where seconds ago he'd been stroking like his life depended on it.
"And that makes it less weird?"
He'd groaned, releasing himself and sitting up to squint at you in the darkness, "So what are you gonna do about it?"
You glared at him, not bothering to remove your hand from your underwear as you continued to finger yourself, breathing deeply, "I'm not gonna do anything about it, Joel. I'm gonna keep going. And you can stay here or you can go, doesn't matter to me."
After a few seconds of silence, he'd flopped himself back down on the couch and reached for himself again, fucking into his fist, "No talking," he said through his teeth, "Let's just do it and forget it even happened, deal?"
"Deal," you'd replied, and roughly added a third finger as you watched the dark silhouette of him jacking himself off barely six feet away from you.
One night turned into two, turned into five, and now ten. It wasn't every night, only when you were on patrol together. You'd privately asked Tommy to make sure that Joel was your patrol partner as often as possible, because you felt "safer" with him... you're not sure if he'd really believed you.
You're back in the ski lodge again tonight, both of you situated on the couch in your usual positions, on opposite ends and facing each other. It's ridiculous how quickly it's taken you both to get used to these sessions, the casual feeling of it making it even hotter somehow.
"How many fingers are you using this time?" Joel murmurs, eyeing you where you're touching yourself, unable to fully see what he'd like to.
"Up to you," you breathe, still prodding your clit, "How many do you want me to use?"
"Three," he replies, and you watch as he pulls his cock free from the confines of his jeans, jutting large and solid against his stomach, "Real slow, then real fast."
You nod, lifting your hips up to pull your panties free and expose yourself to him, legs wide.
"Stick to my rhythm," he tells you, watching as you trail your middle finger through your folds, "If I stop, you stop. If I tell you to stop-"
"I stop," you answer for him, throwing him a smug smile, "Same rules as always."
He stares at you without speaking, just waiting. You get the hint and begin to slide your finger inside slowly, making eye contact with him under your lashes and smiling languidly. He fists himself just as slow, looking down at your finger and licking his lips.
"Slow enough for you?" you whisper, adding a second and grinning when his eyes darken, "Should I go a bit faster?"
"Not yet," he whispers, thumbing the head of his cock and fucking into his hand at the same pace as your finger, "Keep it nice and slow for me 'til I say so."
You obey, fucking yourself with your middle and ring finger at the slowest pace you can muster. No matter how annoying his orders are you always do as you're told, not because you're afraid of any sort of consequence, but because you like seeing him enjoy himself, seeing him take control. You've only known him for about six months but you've known for a while that he's been lacking any sort of control in his life for a long time; you're glad to be the one who can give it to him.
"Add your third," he whispers and you oblige, slipping your index inside yourself alongside the others, "Good girl," he breathes, "Such a good girl for me, aren't you?"
You nod, your smugness immediately starting to fade. When he talks to you like this, praises you, it's impossible to keep your hard exterior up for much longer, feeling yourself submit to him. In any other circumstance you love to challenge him, to argue, but in these moments it's the last thing on your mind. You do as you're told, and that's the end of it. He needs control, you need submission.
"Tell me," he whispers.
"I'm your good girl," you breathe, shivering and continuing to shove your fingers in and out at his pace.
He smirks, "Yeah you are."
You continue to fuck yourself at his painfully slow pace, watching him fist his cock at the same speed. He likes to tease you, to build you up until you're begging for it. You thumb your clit and start to whimper, legs trembling.
"Okay, faster now," he tells you, voice low and sultry, "Not too fast, though. Watch me," he tugs at his cock at a bit quicker of a pace, still much too slow for you but you can't do much else but obey him, mirroring him with the thrust of your fingers, "That's it, like that."
After several more thrusts he suddenly stops stroking himself, stilling in his palm. You groan, halting your movements, following the rules.
"How is it that you follow orders so God damn well when you've got your panties around your ankles?" he asks, voice rough, "Yet when we're actually patrollin' you don't listen to a word I say?"
"I'm not your good girl when we're patrolling," you reply with a teasing smile, "But I could be, you know."
He rolls his eyes, "Enough, it's not happening," he nods to your hand, still motionless at your core, "Play with your clit for a second, give me a chance to breathe."
There it is, the line he won't cross. You've already told him that you're willing to give yourself completely over to him, be exactly who he needs, but no matter how many times you try he just won't budge. It's disappointing, truly, because you really do like him. Sure, he's a bit of an ass, plus he's about thirty years older than you, but you've seen the side of him he doesn't show to others. Maybe only hints, but you've seen it. And you care about him.
"I don't do this with anyone else, you know," you whisper, pressing your index finger against your clit and rubbing small circles into it, "You're the only one I'd let treat me the way you do."
He looks at you curiously, raising an eyebrow, "I treat you good, don't I?"
You nod, whimpering a bit as you rub yourself harder, "You do, but you're the only one I'd ever submit to like this, you know that, right?"
He hums, brushes the wide head of his cock with the tip of his thumb, "I know, baby. But it feels so good, doesn't it? You like being my good girl, don't you?"
You bite down on your lip, core aching as your fingers lay still against your folds, save for the index that continues to furiously stimulate your clit, "I do," you whisper, cheeks warming, "I fucking love it."
"There you go," he murmurs softly, then begins to move his fist again, "Use your fingers again, baby, get your pussy all full for me."
You don't need telling twice, your three fingers plunging deep inside yourself without any hesitation. You whimper when your fingertips brush against your favorite spot, so close yet so far. You eye Joel's cock and try to imagine what it would feel like for it to really be inside you, the fat tip of it pounding relentlessly against the deepest parts of your cunt, his girth stretching you out so much your whole body would be shaking. You feel your mouth drop open involuntarily, brow furrowing.
He follows your gaze and frowns at you, pumping himself a bit faster, "You can't have it," he whispers, like he can read your mind, "I know you want it, pretty girl, but you can't. I'm sorry."
"Why?" you mewl, sounding absolutely pathetic as you keep fucking yourself, "I want it so bad, Joel."
"I know you do," he closes his eyes and leans his head back, "Don't ask me why, you just can't."
You'd pout, tease him a little, but he's not looking at you anymore and it physically makes you ache, the way he avoids any allusion to actual sex, an actual relationship. You've asked him so many times and it's always the same answer, never a real reason. You wish you knew why, wish you knew if there was anything at all you could do to make him open up to you.
Instead you mirror his position, tilting your head back against the arm of the sofa and fucking up into yourself, listening to his labored breathing and the slap of skin whenever his fist hits his belly.
"Fast as you can now, baby," he mutters gruffly, close to the edge, "Need you to come for me, need you to be good."
"I'm always good for you, aren't I?" you whimper, opening your eyes to peer at him again, "I always listen, I never break your rules."
"That's right."
"So why can't you fuck me?" you sit up suddenly, yanking your fingers out of yourself and looking at him angrily. He sits up just as quickly, eyes narrowing as he releases his cock and stares at you, "I'm serious, Joel. I want an actual answer."
"You just broke a rule," he mutters and you sigh exasperatedly.
"I'm sorry for breaking the rules," you genuinely mean it; you know how important this control is for him, but you can't help it, "I'll submit again if you just tell me why you won't fuck me. Do you...do you not want me? Is that it? 'Cause I can accept that, I just want to hear you say it. I'm sick of not knowing."
He stares at you incredulously, hand coming up to squeeze the space between his brow and nose, "Jesus, of course I want you, but it's not that simple."
"Yes it-"
"It's not," he interrupts you, shaking his head, "I can't...this isn't..." he exhales deeply, "This isn't the time for this conversation, okay?" You hear raw emotion in his voice, buried deep but still present. Fuck, you didn't mean to make him feel bad.
"...Okay," you finally whisper, "I'm sorry."
"S'okay," he runs a hand through his hair, "Look, we can stop-"
"No," you lean back and open your legs wide again, putting yourself on display for him, "No, I wanna be your good girl again, please let me."
"We don't-"
"Joel," you whimper, slipping your fingers back inside, "Let me be your good girl."
His hard expression fades, eyes softening as he peers at you, watching you fuck himself for him.
"It's all yours, even if you won't touch me," you whisper, using your other hand to pull yourself open for him, showing him how full you are, feeling your orgasm start to build in your tummy, "It's yours," you repeat, whimpering.
He nods, stroking himself again hard and fast, brow furrowing in pleasure as he keeps his eyes trained on you, "That's right," he murmurs, "It's mine. You're mine."
You close your eyes tight, "I'm gonna come."
"Go ahead, pretty girl," you hear him groan, the snap of his wrist making you completely come undone, "Squeeze around those fingers, pretend they're mine, okay? You can do that, you can pretend."
You shudder at his words and feel your orgasm overtake you, the image of Joel's thick fingers pounding into you enough to send you over the edge. You moan loudly, crying out his name and tossing your head back as you come.
"Good girl," he groans, voice strangled, "Such a good fucking girl for me."
You close your eyes as you ride out the waves of your release, fingers still pumping gently inside of you until it's too much and you pull them out. Sighing contentedly, you open your eyes again and watch Joel relentlessly fuck into his fist, belt buckle still jangling against the couch as he gasps. You want nothing more than to reach forward and take him in your own hand, help him ride out his own release, but you don't. Because those are the rules.
Instead you just watch him, smile at him as he shuts his eyes tight and groans deeply, coming into his fist. You watch the thick white liquid cover the sides of his fingers and you involuntarily salivate, jaw going slack.
"Fuck," you breathe, "Wish I could taste you."
He groans again, hand stilling as he breathes heavily and starts to come down, eyes closed. You sit quietly, panties still hanging off one of your ankles. You'd usually already be putting your clothes back on at this point, but something tells you to stay still, don't move, he's gonna do something different.
He swallows and looks up at you, stares at you for a few moments. You're unsure whether the regular Joel is about to come back, tell you it's time to go back on patrol, grab your gun and be quiet. Or is this still your Joel, the one who tells you you're pretty and good, makes you feel less alone in this shitty world.
"Here," he says, shaking his head and bringing his come-coated fingers up to your mouth, "If you wanna taste, you have five seconds."
Your mouth pops open in surprise, hesitating only for a second before you lean forward and wrap your lips around his fingers, feeling the salty taste of him flood your mouth. Your cunt begins to throb again, your eyes closing as you suck and lick and take everything he's giving you. When you open your eyes again he's still looking at you, but his expression is soft, tender.
"Good girl," he murmurs.
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this is now a series, and other parts can be found on my masterlist.
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jjungkookislife · 4 months
Text
Home for the Holidays Pt. 2 (M)
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pairing: jungkook x f. reader
genre: fake dating au, f2l, christmas au, smut [18+] Put your age in your bio so you don’t get blocked please 💜 this is an 18+ blog
summary: Jungkook is in desperate need to find a girlfriend for Christmas. His mom has nagged and nagged about him bringing someone home for the holidays. Determined, Jungkook recruits his friends in hopes of finding the right girl to take home. In need of a place to stay, and no plans for Christmas, you answer his friend’s ad.
You have 25 days to convince not only his parents but his grandmother that you’re in a real relationship, solid enough to get through Christmas with the Jeons.
wc: 14.3k
warnings: pet names (babe, baby, sweetheart, honey, love, darling, good girl, doll), food/food mention, mention of conning JK's grandmother, mention of a blowup doll, making out, marking (scratching, biting, hickeys), jungkook has a motorcycle but his grandmother forbids him from using it while she's there, mention of jungkook's grandfather's death, one-bed trope, mention of slot machines, mention of a breeding kink, reader is on the pill, mention of being self-conscious (reader), mention of drowning in melting snow due to embarrassment, hair pulling, jungkook is a consent king (and it's hot af, okay?), fingering (f. receiving), handjob (m. receiving), oral sex (f. giving), unprotected sex, spanking, multiple orgasms, creampie
a/n: a HUGE thank you to @btsgotjams27 for allowing me to scream about this JK in her inbox for weeks! and for helping me go over the ending! thank you, thank you, thank you!
read part one here
date: January 12, 2024
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The moment you set foot in Jungkook’s family home, it was like stepping foot in a department store the day after Thanksgiving. 
Holiday decor sits on every inch of the living room wall—there are snowflakes, snowmen, Santas, and jolly words on every bit you see.
A giant Christmas tree takes up a large portion of the living room in a corner far from the fireplace. Large red bows hung from the branches, and a gold star sat on the top. A candle on the coffee table burns, filling the home with its vanilla cookie scent. 
The dining room had an elegant arrangement of candles and ribbons. A glass jar of red and gold ornaments sat in the middle as a centerpiece. 
“Jungkook!” Came an elated greeting from the kitchen. An older woman came rushing toward him, her hands cupping his cheeks as she hugged him tightly. 
Jungkook grunted when he was pulled to her height, swaying side to side as she hugged him. 
“Never leave me,” she nearly sobbed dramatically. You bit back a laugh. 
“Mom,” Jungkook wheezed. “You’re scaring my girlfriend. She doesn’t know you’re joking.”
“I’m not joking,” his mom laughs as she squeezes him one last time before releasing him. 
“Mom!”
Jungkook’s mom ignored him as she stepped toward you. 
“Hello,” you wave meekly. You introduce yourself, and she smiles. 
“I’m Aera,” Jungkook’s mom introduces herself as she pulls you into a hug. “It’s so nice to meet you! Jungkook said nothing but good things about you. I swear he’s so in love!”
“Mom!” Jungkook hissed as he ran his hand over his face. 
You giggle, linking arms with Aera. “Is that so?”
Jungkook watches as the two of you head toward the kitchen, arm in arm, while he rolls the suitcases further into the house after shutting the front door. 
“Oh, Jungkook,” his mom says as she has you sit at the table. “You’re in Seojun’s old room, and this sweetheart is in yours.”
Jungkook nods as he locks eyes with you, silently asking if you’ll be okay for a few minutes while he takes the luggage upstairs. 
“Here,” Aera hands you a small dessert. “Seojun made these just for you. You’ll meet him tomorrow along with his fiancée, Saraí.” 
“Ooh, chocolate,” you grin as you take the chocolate and take a bite. You moan from how good it tastes, melting right on your tongue. 
Aera claps her hands, turning on her heel as she grabs a few more desserts for you to try. 
By the time Jungkook joins you, you’re on your third dessert. 
“Mom,” he sighs. “Please don’t force-feed my girlfriend. She just got here.”
Aera frowns at her son. “Fine. You open up.”
Jungkook dodges a brownie bite and sits beside you. His mom heads back to the kitchen to grab drinks as the front door opens and shuts. 
“Sorry,” Jungkook apologizes. “I told her to wait at least thirty minutes before she stuffed you full of chocolate and desserts.”
“Hello,” a voice calls. You smile, though nerves still eat at you when you realize Jungkook’s father has arrived home. 
“Dad!” Jungkook rises from his seat to hug his dad tightly. Jungkook looks just like him, though a little taller and broader. 
You rise from your seat, wiping your hands on your pants in a poor attempt to clean them. 
You introduce yourself to Jungkook’s dad, shaking his hand. 
“Nice to meet you, honey. I’m Dae.”
“We’re gonna go get settled in,” Jungkook says as he takes your hand. “We’ll be down for dinner.”
“When am I seeing Jimin, Joon, Tae, Jin, and Yoongi?” Aera asks her son. “It’s bad enough that Hoseok won’t join us this year.”
“He had plans, Mom,” Jungkook explained.
“Love, the kids just got home to their parents. Let them take their shoes off before you host a reunion,” Dae chuckles. Aera nods, going for her house phone to ring up Jimin’s mom across the street to chat about their boys. 
Jungkook uses the distraction to lead you toward the stairs. 
“I’m so sorry,” Jungkook groans as he plops down on the desk chair of his old bedroom. “I thought I had a minute or something before she started feeding you.”
“It’s okay,” you giggle as you wrap your arms around his neck. “Your mom is just excited.”
“I’ll say,” Jungkook grumbles as he wraps his arms around your waist. “Thanks for doing this.”
“No problem! Besides, those brownie bites are delicious!”
Jungkook chuckles. “There’s plenty more downstairs. Lemme show you around.”
Jungkook shows you where the bathroom is. His room is across the hall from yours, while his parents' room is further down the hallway. There’s another stairway upstairs that leads to the entertainment/game room. Downstairs is an office, a guest bathroom, and a laundry room. 
The backyard is through the back door in the kitchen, and the door near the living room leads to the garage. It’s all pretty simple to memorize. You’ll mostly be on the second floor unless you have to use the kitchen or living room. 
By the time you’re back in the kitchen, Jimin’s sitting at one of the chairs with a plate full of brownies and a glass of milk. He gives you a chocolaty smile as Mrs. Jeon sets a plate of cookies beside him. 
“Got enough to share, Jimin?” Jungkook asks as he pulls a chair out for you before he sits beside you. 
“No,” Jimin swallows his bite and downs half a glass of milk. 
“Jimin,” Aera laughs, and Jimin reluctantly pushes the plate of cookies toward you and Jungkook. 
“So,” Dae smiles at you. “How did you and Jungkook meet?”
“School.”
“Jimin.” You say, cringing at Jungkook’s answer being different from yours. 
His parents look confused for a moment before Jimin speaks up.
“I met her in one of my classes, and we became friends. Then Jungkook stole her from me,” Jimin jokes. 
Jungkook turns red. “I didn’t steal her! You said you were just friends!”
You laugh with his parents. The two men bicker back and forth like children. 
“I always had a crush on Jungkook. The moment I saw him, I knew he was special,” you admit. Jungkook pauses his fake fight to look at you; his eyes are soft, and something sparkles deep within. 
Even Jimin stares silently. He knew you had a crush on Kook the moment you laid eyes on him, but there was no way you were this great of an actress. After all, he had been the one to go with you to audition for Cinderella, and you tanked. Sorry to say so.
“Oh, isn’t that sweet?! True love!” Aera sings as she clasps her hands. 
“Mom!” Jungkook protests, feeling his ears burn from embarrassment. Perhaps he should have prepared you for his over-enthusiastic parents. 
“I hear wedding bells!” Aera continues until Dae grabs her and leads her out of the room. 
“Come on, let’s go get their pajamas.”
The three of you wait until you hear their footsteps disappear up the stairs. 
Jimin exhales dramatically. “You couldn’t even get the first lie correct?”
“We tried!” Jungkook hisses in response.
“Yeah,” you nod vehemently. “We got it right anyhow. We just fumbled a bit. No biggie.”
“The group chat isn’t gonna like this,” Jimin sighs. “Are you sure you can pull this off without us here?”
“It was just a little mishap,” Jungkook waved his hand. “We’ve got this.”
Jimin looks unsure but says nothing else as he gulps his milk down and rises from his seat. 
“Okay, I better get back to my family. I only snuck out for treats.”
You laugh as you hug him after he’s set his glass in the dishwasher. 
“Come around whenever,” Jimin instructs, kissing your forehead before waving to Jungkook. 
“What’s up next?” You ask your boyfriend. 
“Probably Christmas pajamas and a movie, then dinner and bedtime,” Jungkook replies as his parents' footsteps come down the stairs.
“Here they come.”
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The evening flies by after you receive your pajamas. You thank the Jeons profusely as you put them on. 
The couple has gone to bed, leaving you and Jungkook to finish the last two minutes of the movie. 
Jungkook begins to clean up as soon as the credits roll before the two of you head up the stairs. 
Hushed voices greet you as you reach the landing. 
“I don’t know, Dae. Something seems fishy,” Aera said softly. 
“You’re overthinking this, love. Maybe they’re just respectful or shy.” Dae countered. 
“Well, Saraí and Seojun were always kissing and hugging. It just seems a little off.” Aera states. 
Jungkook looks at you, worry evident on his face.
“Maybe they’re not as comfortable with PDA. That’s fine by me,” Dae chuckles as he tells his wife to go to bed. 
Aera does so reluctantly.
Jungkook takes your hand and leads you to the bedroom you are occupying for your stay. He shuts the door as quietly as possible before he sits on the bed and pats the spot beside him. 
Once you’re on the bed sitting beside him, he wrings his hands in his lap. 
“I suppose we need to be more hands-on,” he states nervously.
“How about we wake up early tomorrow and watch a movie in the living room? We can cuddle and kiss a little when we hear them get up,” you suggest. 
Jungkook nods in agreement. 
“Do you need anything before I go?”
You walk Jungkook to the bedroom door. You bite your bottom lip, suddenly feeling shy. He is your fake boyfriend, though.
“A goodnight kiss?”
Jungkook’s cheeks warm at your words, but he gently grips your chin with his fingers before he presses his lips to yours. Your hands grip his shirt, holding him close as the kiss deepens and your lips muffle his moans. 
“Good night,” Jungkook whispers with one last kiss to your lips. 
“Good night,” you whisper as you watch him go. Your heart flutters as you shut the door and press your back against it. You squeal in delight and faintly hear Jungkook chuckle as he heads to his room. 
You ignore the heat that rises to your cheeks before scrambling to get into bed. 
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The next morning, Jungkook shakes you awake gently. “Come on, darling.”
“Mmh,” you whine, swatting at him in your sleep. 
Jungkook dodges the next swipe, capturing your hand and kissing your palm. 
“Baby,” he whispers as he shakes you again. You curse, peering open one eye and then the other. 
“You’re lucky you’re cute,” you grumble as you sit up. Jungkook grins smugly. “Or I’d bop you on that cute nose of yours.”
Jungkook laughs, shaking his head. “Come on, babe. My parents will be up soon.”
“I’m sleepy,” you huff but get out of bed and follow Jungkook downstairs. He’s already got a movie playing in the background and two mugs of hot chocolate sitting on the coffee table. 
You try not to squeal in excitement when you see he’s poured yours into a snowman mug. 
By the time Jungkook’s parents make their way downstairs, the both of you are cuddling on the couch. Jungkook’s got your head on his shoulder, feeding you pretzels and holding your hand. 
Aera and Dae exchange a look but say nothing other than their morning greetings as they get ready for work. 
Dae is out in ten minutes, promising to be home early, while Aera stops by the living room to kiss each of you on the top of your head on her way out. 
“Seojun and Saraí will be here for dinner,” she calls as she grabs her keys and heads out the door. 
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You spend the day with Jungkook watching movies and playing video games upstairs. Jimin and Joon pop in for a quick visit, but their parents call them home for lunch and they leave you alone with Jungkook again. 
“I think we’re doing pretty well,” you muse as you hold Jungkook’s hand while he waits for the game to load on the TV screen. 
He chuckles. “Seojun might mess it up.”
You giggle, shaking your head. 
“I think we’ve got this,” you state as you kiss his cheek, his jaw, and the mole beneath his lip. Jungkook sighs happily, dropping the controller on the carpet before he cups your face. 
Fake or not, he genuinely enjoyed kissing you. He wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to do so now. 
You moan when he pushes you back onto the couch, your legs on either side of his hips. His lips feel soft against yours as your hands slide under his shirt. 
“Kook,” you moan softly as you move your head to allow him more room, his lips burning in their wake as he trails kisses down to the collar of your shirt. 
Your fingers weave through his long black hair, tugging when his lips nip at your skin. He moans your name softly, groaning when you beg him for more. 
His hand grips your hip, squeezing as his hips rock against you. A curse escapes you as you melt beneath his broad shoulders, your nails dragging down his back. 
“Fuck, baby.” He groans, his lips finding yours as his tongue pushes past the seam of your lips as the kiss deepens. You whine as you feel him press against you, your hands greedy as you pull him impossibly close. 
“Shit!” A voice startles you.
You pull away from Jungkook, face warm as Jungkook gets off you. 
“Sorry, we should have knocked.” A woman apologizes. She’s shorter than Jungkook and the man beside her. Her hair is curly and black, falling in waves down her back. Her beautiful golden skin appears glowing and rivals the brightness of her smile. 
“We did knock,” the man says, looking at her. She jutted him in the ribs with her elbow before turning to Jungkook. 
“We’ll be downstairs,” she announced in a rush as she shoved the man out the door before shutting it. 
Jungkook groans, hiding his cherry-red face in his hands. “That was Seojun and Saraí.”
“Oh!” You exclaim with wide eyes. “Fuck.”
“Well,” Jungkook said, carding a hand through his hair. “At least Seojun will believe us now.”
You laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. You wrap your arms around his waist and kiss the corner of his mouth. 
“To be continued?” You’re not sure where this bout of confidence has come from, but you know what you felt, and Jungkook wanted you just like you did him. 
“Tonight?” He asks in a sultry tone that makes you tighten around nothing. His dark-hooded gaze makes your pulse rise, and it takes everything in you not to push him onto the couch and continue where you left off. 
Jungkook holds your gaze, his tattooed hand resting on your lower back, a little too close to your behind. You bite your bottom lip, and his eyes watch you carefully as you slowly take a step back. Fire builds between you, nearly suffocating you, and you’d gladly let it for another taste of his lips. 
“Tonight,” you whisper as you head for the door. You swallow thickly as you eye him up and down, a hunger pooling deep inside you. 
Jungkook presses his thumb to his bottom lip as he devours you with his gaze, knowing one more lingering look will be all it takes to have you screaming his name as loud as your lungs allow. 
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Ten minutes later, Jungkook and you join Seojun and Saraí in the living room. Jungkook introduced you to the couple as he sat beside you on the loveseat.
“It’s so nice to meet you!” Sarai exclaims. “Seojun thought you were imaginary.”
“Babe,” Seojun protests. 
“¿Que no?” Sarai asks him with a raised brow. “Didn’t you say Kook probably had a blowup doll?”
 Jungkook and Seojun burn brighter than Rudolph’s nose as they sink into the couches. You laugh along with Sarai at the men’s expense. 
“I like you,” you said with a bright smile. “We’re gonna get along just fine.”
Sarai smiled, “We have to stick together.”
“Saraí,” Seojun whines. “We just got here. You can’t recruit my little brother’s girlfriend against me already.”
“Why not?” Saraí asks with a mischievous grin. 
Seojun groans as he shakes his head, but his smile never dims as he looks at his fiancée. You cuddle up to Jungkook, and his arm drapes around you before he kisses the top of your head, almost second nature. 
-
A few hours later, Saraí and you share the couch upstairs while the Jeon brothers fight over the working controller. 
Saraí follows you on all your socials as she lies beside you. The both of you laugh as you show each other funny TikToks. Despite only knowing her a short amount of time, you’re glad she’s easygoing and loves to talk. It takes the pressure off you having to recall any information from Joon’s PowerPoint and flashcards, though the information is ready to be pulled at any moment should you need it.
“So then he takes me to the very top of the building,” Saraí gushes as she shows you a photo on her Instagram account. “You know, the ones with the glass panes you can stand on to overlook the city? Well, I was busy looking at the city while Seojun was turning green behind me! He’s terrified of heights, but he knew I wanted to go up there since forever, practically!”
“I almost threw up,” Seojun comments as he gives the controller to Jungkook, he’s no longer interested in fighting his younger sibling over the controller that doesn’t stick. 
Saraí laughs. “I turned around to tell him to join me. The view was incredible!”
You hang on her every word as she swipes to another photo. 
“And that’s when I noticed the mariachis and Seojun down on one knee. He even had my family there!” Saraí wipes a stray tear as she recounts her proposal and shows you more photos of the grand event. 
Seojun smiles at Saraí, hearts in his eyes. He turns to Jungkook with a raised brow. “It’ll be you two before you know it.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Jungkook coughs as he looks at you for help. His eyes have tripled in size from panic. 
“Yeah,” you nod, feeling like a bobblehead. “We’ve only been together for a bit.”
“Four months?” Seojun asks.
“Five!” You and Jungkook answer in unison, startling the happy couple. 
You clear your throat. “Almost six.”
“Nowhere near you guys time together,” Jungkook adds as he nervously tweaks the buttons on the controller. 
Saraí waves her hand. “You’ll hear wedding bells before you know it.”
“Yeah,” Seojun chuckles. “Ours.”
The two giggled before you and Jungkook exchanged nervous looks. 
How far would you take this?
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Dinner passes without incident. Aera and Saraí are elbow-deep in wedding plans, scheduling lunch with Saraí’s mom before the evening ends. 
You excuse yourself when your friends show up, and the lot of you head upstairs with a plate of warm cookies accompanied by a tray filled with glasses of milk and mugs of hot chocolate.
Seokjin is on the lookout, watching the door as Joon gets comfortable beside Jimin and Yoongi. 
“How’s it going?” Taehyung asks as he takes Jungkook’s phone to upload a few more pictures to Instagram. 
“Yeah,” Joon says through a mouthful of cookies. “Jimin says you fucked up the first question Momma Jeon asked.”
“Jimin,” Jungkook hisses. 
“The first one?” Seokjin scoffs as he looks over his shoulder at you. “Babe, I would have done better.”
“I’m the one who needed to date someone!” Jungkook hisses louder. 
Seokjin shrugs. “I said what I said.”
Jungkook rolls his eyes at his friends and calms down when you grip his arm. 
“His parents thought we weren’t all over each other like Saraí and Seojun. We have to kick it up a little for them,” you state, your lip caught between your teeth. 
“Damn,” Yoongi sighs. “If they see through it, your grandmother won’t fall for it, Kook.”
“Don’t give up now,” Jimin insists while holding a rough sketch. “We’ve worked so hard for this. I already started designing my room in Kook’s new place.”
“Give me that,” Jungkook rips the paper from Jimin’s hands and crumples it. 
“I have copies,” Jimin smirks. 
“Look,” Taehyung speaks up. “We’ve all done our part. We just gotta get through it.” 
Namjoon nods. “Tae’s right. We all did what we said we’d do, even Hobi. He’ll be in town before the new year, and we can’t tell him the plan tanked. We all worked too hard for this. Let’s see it out.”
“I’m in,” Seokjin shrugs, feigning nonchalance by looking at his nails.
“Same,” Yoongi and Jimin add with a firm nod. 
Joon and Tae look at the two of you.
Jungkook looks at you, and you nod. You were already knee-deep in it; might as well make it to the other side. 
“Alright, we’re in,” Jungkook states ruefully. 
“Don’t worry, one of us will try to be around when Grandmother Jeon arrives. It’ll be a piece of cake!” Jimin grins. 
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It was not a piece of cake. 
And if it was, it was a shit cake.
Grandmother Jeon rolled up with enough suitcases to rival a traveling circus. 
“Mother,” Dae gasps as he greets her at the front door. “What’s all this?”
“Oh, you wouldn’t believe the day I’ve had!” Jungkook’s grandmother huffs as Dae and Jungkook help bring in the suitcases. 
Aera dashes to the kitchen for refreshments, and you hurry after her in a panic. 
“First, I misplaced my bingo winnings on the train. Then, they threatened to kick me off because Luna wouldn’t stop barking!” Grandmother Jeon looks at all her bags until Jungkook holds one away from him while he pinches his nose. 
“Oh, there she is! Kook be a dear and take her outside. Rinse her dog carrier for me. These old bones aren’t what they used to be,” she says as Dae helps her to the couch and then shuts the front door. 
“Mother,” Dae said as he sat beside her. “Why didn’t you call?”
“Oh, I didn’t want to be a bother!” She waves her hand about. Her glasses slip down her nose, and her hat is tilted. 
“You’re never a bother, Mom,” Dae states as he helps her out of her shoes and faux fur coat. 
“Good,” Grandmother Jeon states firmly. “Because Luna and I need a place to stay for the holidays.”
Jungkook freezes with Luna, a yapping black and white chihuahua in his arms. “What?”
Dae sends a glare at his son. “Of course, you can stay with us. What happened?”
“Dang cellphone made my reservations for next Christmas,” Grandmother Jeon huffed. “Dang things are called smartphones, more like dumb phones. Scheduled me for the wrong year!”
Dae exchanges a look with Jungkook, but neither says a word as you and Aera walk into the living room with coffee and cookies. 
“Oh, Aera! You look lovely! Keeping my boys in line?” Grandmother Jeon asks with a smile. 
“Always! We're so glad you’re staying with us,” Aera says genuinely, hugging the older woman. 
“Ooh, you know me. I gotta spread a little holiday cheer everywhere I go,” Grandmother Jeon jokes before she spots you. 
“And who is this marvelous woman hiding behind you, Aera?” 
Jungkook opens the back door, puts Luna out, and rushes to your side before you can blink. 
“Grandmother Jeon, this is my girlfriend,” Jungkook tells her your name, and her eyes light up like the fairy lights on the Christmas tree. 
“I’m Grandmother Jeon or Minji, whichever you prefer, dear. Let me look at you,” she coos as she takes your hands and looks you up and down. 
“You’re beautiful,” Minji grins widely. 
“Thank you,” you smile shyly. 
“And you know how to take a compliment. I like that! Confidence and a tough exterior are what you need to wrangle in these boys. They’ll give you more heart attacks than you can handle. Troublesome they are,” Minji shakes her head. 
“Mom!”
“Grandmother!”
“What?” Minji raises a brow, daring them to protest further. “Am I lying?”
“No,” Jungkook and his father shake their heads, avoiding eye contact. 
“Thought so,” Minji laughs. “Don’t worry, dear. Jungkook is the least troublesome of them all, though that motorcycle I saw on the driveway is enough to earn a lecture, Jeon Jungkook!”
“But-!”
“Jeon Dae, what did I tell you about my grandbabies riding those!” Minji sighs heavily as she lets you go. 
“Mother,” Dae starts as Minji rises from the couch. “He’s old enough to make his own decisions.”
Minji whirls on Jungkook, a sharp, well-manicured nail poking his broad chest. “You stick to driving while I’m here, sweetie. I don’t think my old heart could take it seeing you riding around town on that motorcycle.”
“I promise,” Jungkook raises his hand, and Minji grins, reaching to pinch his cheek. 
“Good boy,” she states before releasing him. “Now who’s gonna show this old bag of bones and her pup to her room?”  
“Mother, you’re only-” Dae is cut off by a glare so icy it could freeze Hell and all its inhabitants. 
“Get my dog, son. She gets cold without her winter wear,” Minji grumbles as she heads towards the stairs. “She’s your little sister, after all. You should treat her as such.”
“Mother,” Dae sighs heavily, but he knows it’s a losing battle. He opens the back door instead, and Luna walks into the home after wiping her feet on the mat. 
“Jungkook, sweetie, be a doll and get her wipes from the pink bag for me. I have to get her cleaned up before dinner,” Minji says as Dae hands her the little chihuahua. 
“She’s not going to expect Luna to have a seat at the table, is she?” You ask Jungkook’s mom as you watch Dae and Jungkook carry her bags up the stairs. 
Aera says your name with a whimsical smile. “Expect the unexpected.”
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Jungkook knows you’re trying your best not to stare, but you fail miserably.
Dinner is in the dining room with the large dining table that seats twelve, but there are only eight of you tonight. 
Dae sits at the head of the table with his wife on the left and his mother on the right. Beside Aera, Jungkook has taken his spot while you sit beside him. However, you can’t help but look at Luna in her high chair across from him. 
Seojun sits across from you with Saraí on his right. She smiles politely as she tries to muffle a laugh in her napkin. She was as surprised as you the first time Minji rolled into town with her dog and the high chair. 
You’re sure Luna is eating out of a crystal bowl and drinking from a crystal goblet. The only thing that sparkles more than both is the ring sitting on Saraí’s finger.
“So, sweetheart,” Minji starts as she dabs at her mouth. “How did you meet our Kookie?”
“Mother,” Dae shoots an annoyed look her way that she waves off with a perfectly manicured hand. 
“I’m merely curious,” Minji smiles softly, her pearls draped over her bubblegum pink dress. There’s not a silver hair out of place, nor is her lipstick smudged from eating and enjoying a glass of wine with dinner. 
“We met through Jimin,” Jungkook answers for you, but Minji continues to stare at you, awaiting a response. 
“We met through Jimin at school. Jimin and I shared a class and introduced me to Jungkook and his friends. I had a crush on him since the first time I saw him,” you can feel the heat rise in your cheeks as Jungkook takes your hand in his, kissing your knuckles before setting it on the table. 
“So, who broke first?” Seojun asks with interest, ignoring his “aunt” as she chews on her steak. 
“Jungkook,” you giggle as you recite the story Yoongi had concocted. “We went on a walk after dinner one night and he confessed. Asked me out for the next night, and we’ve been dating ever since.”
“We went to the beach for our first date,” Jungkook adds. “Shared a milkshake on the boardwalk.”
“My Kookie finally found someone!” Minji claps her hands, startling the dog beside her. 
“Do you have pictures?” Aera questions as she rises from the table. 
Luna finishes her meal, and Dae takes her outside while Jungkook and Seojun clear the table. You send Jungkook a wary look, but he smiles in reassurance, mouthing, “You’ve got this.”
“Let’s head to the living room for tea and hot chocolate,” Aera said as she dashed to the kitchen to grab drinks and desserts. 
Saraí goes to help her while you help Minji to the couch. 
“I don’t know how to snoop on the phone like Seojun loves to do,” Minji laughs as you take your phone out of your pocket. 
“Ah, there’s my boy,” Minji says as she adjusts her glasses to look at your Lock Screen. A photo of you and Jungkook in matching Christmas sweaters greets her. 
“He looks at you the way his grandfather looked at me before he passed. Love is a magical thing, dear. It can get you through almost anything,” Minji says, full of wonder as she stares off into the distance for a moment before she clears her throat. 
Your heart sinks in your chest. Jungkook hadn’t mentioned his grandfather before and seeing Minji now and going through with this plan was making you feel sick. 
“I hope we didn’t miss anything,” Saraí sings as she sets down a tray of hot drinks. She hands one to Minji before she takes one for herself. 
Aera and Dae join you, while Luna curls up under the Christmas tree on the tree skirt beside the presents. 
“I hope we did,” Jungkook utters, only to be elbowed by his older brother. 
“I saw a few photos on Instagram this week,” Seojun comments as he grabs a cookie. “You both look cute.”
Saraí helps Aera log into her account so she can see the photos on Instagram while you show Minji the pictures on your phone. 
“The two of you are adorable,” Minji coos as you show her another photo. Jungkook watches on from beside his father, the two sharing the couch closest to the fireplace. 
For a moment, Jungkook can pretend that it’s real. That you fit into his family perfectly, just like Saraí does. That they adore you just like he does and that you could possibly love him.
Thirty minutes later, Minji is yawning and calling for Luna. The two head upstairs slowly, yawning and wishing everyone a good night. 
“Oh, dear,” Aera says as she looks at you and Jungkook. “We gave Grandmother Jeon Seojun’s old room.”
You look at Jungkook with wide eyes. 
“You don’t mind sharing Jungkook’s old room, do you?” Aera asked as she and Saraí cleared up the drinks and cookies. “It’ll be just like at home.”
“Um… yeah,” you cough as you look at your feet. “Just like home.”
“Perfect,” Dae says as he helps clean up. “Why don’t the two of you unpack in Jungkook’s room, and we’ll see you in the morning?”
“Sure, Dad,” Jungkook takes your hand, saying goodnight to his family before leading you up the stairs. 
On the landing, you hear his grandmother and Luna snoring already, and you wonder how they could fall asleep so quickly. 
Jungkook leads you into the bedroom and shuts the door, pressing himself against it. 
You’re careful not to trip on his suitcase as you open yours to get your pajamas out. You’ve been following Hoseok’s strict clothing schedule and you’ve sent Hoseok photo confirmation every day so far.
“I’m so sorry,” Jungkook whispers as he walks toward you. “I never thought this would happen.”
“What do we do?” 
“I’ll sleep upstairs in the game room,” Jungkook answers. His back already hurts from imagining a night on the lumpy couch. 
“Your parents will know something’s up,” you hissed in response. 
“I’ll sleep on the floor, then,” Jungkook shrugs. “Problem solved.”
“But it’s your room. Your bed.”
“And I got you into this mess,” Jungkook frowns. “It’s only for a few nights, anyway. No biggie.”
You bite your lip but say nothing as you take your pajamas and step out of the bedroom to go to the bathroom. You change and brush your teeth before going to the room once again.  
Jungkook goes to the bathroom to brush his teeth and do his skincare routine before returning to the room. 
He grabs extra blankets from the closet and a few pillows before he lies down on the floor.  
The two of you stare at the ceiling in silence. 
“Well, this is awkward,” Jungkook chuckles.
You throw a stuffed animal at him. 
“Jungkook!”
“What? You were thinking about it!”
“You didn’t have to say it,” you grumble as you roll on your side to stare at him. You pull the covers over your shoulders, shivering in your oversized tee and pajama shorts. Hoseok dropped the ball with this one outfit, but maybe he didn’t care too much about your sleeping clothes. 
“Goodnight, sweet girlfriend of mine,” Jungkook coos, wiggling his toes in those dreaded toe socks. 
“Goodnight,” you huff, sticking your tongue out at him.
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Wednesday greeted you with Luna’s obnoxious barking. 
You groaned as you placed a pillow over your head, hoping to drown out the sound, but alas, it was no use. 
“Koo,” you whine, throwing a pillow at him. He grunts in response from his makeshift bed on the floor. 
“I hear it too,” he murmurs as he tries to cling to sleep, but it’s useless. 
Cursing, Jungkook sits up. He stretches and yawns for a minute before getting to his feet and folding his makeshift bed of blankets and pillows. His back and neck would be hating him all day. 
With all the excitement of Grandmother Jeon and your new sleeping arrangements, there wasn’t any time for any practice. 
Now you have bedhead and morning breath, and god, you hope you don’t have dried drool on the corner of your mouth. You can’t let Jungkook see you like this!
“Close your eyes!” You hiss as you scramble out of his bed. 
Jungkook's eyes widen in alarm. “What?! Why?!” 
“Just do it! Don’t look at me!” You hiss as you hear the barking move further away. You try to step over your fake boyfriend but trip on a blanket and fall beside him. 
Jungkook grunts when you elbow him in the stomach, and before either of you can move, the door opens, and Jungkook’s mother stands there with wide eyes. 
“Um, breakfast will be ready in a bit,” she says as she shuts the door as quickly as possible. Perhaps next time she’ll remember to knock, but after the commotion, she was worried someone was hurt. 
“Great,” Jungkook sighs as he falls back into his pillows to stare at the ceiling. 
What a great way to start his morning.
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Jungkook’s parents and grandmother are gone for the rest of the day. Something about slot machines and Grandmother Jeon feeling lucky… or did she say she was gonna get lucky?
“Luna Patrice Jeon,” you huff, stomping your foot as you try to get her coat on her, but she wriggles in Jungkook’s beefy arms. 
The two of you were supposed to be outside five minutes ago, and all your friends and their dogs were waiting for you and Jungkook. 
Jungkook had managed to put Luna’s booties on, but she was a squirmy little thing when it came to her coat and earmuffs. Minji had been very thorough with her instructions, and Jungkook promised to watch his aunt. 
His dog-aunt.
“Hi, pretty girl,” Seokjin coos as he lets himself into the Jeon home. 
Luna pants as Seokjin rubs between her ears and easily gets the coat on her. About four inches of snow had fallen overnight, and the dogs were eager to play at the park just down the road. 
“There we go, Luna. That wasn’t so bad, huh?” Seokjin grins as he kisses the dog on the forehead and puts the earmuffs on. 
“God, he’s a dog whisperer,” Jungkook rolls his eyes, but Seokjin ignores him as he sets Luna in the stroller with her blanket and some treats. He zips the stroller shut and carries it out onto the sidewalk. 
“I can’t help it if the ladies love me,” Seokjin smirks as he sends a wink your way. You smile bashfully, giggling when he blows you a kiss. 
“Hey!” Jungkook stomps his foot. His cute bunny nose scrunching. “You’re my girlfriend!”
“Better keep her close, JK!” Jimin teases as he pushes his dog stroller. 
Namjoon and his little dog wear matching coats and booties, leading the group down the road. Taehyung pushes his stroller, where his Pomeranian sleeps wrapped in a fluffy blanket, and Seokjin carries Hoseok’s dog that he may have snatched for this outing. 
“Who knew we’d end up pushing strollers this Christmas break instead of clubbing,” Yoongi chuckles as he meets up with you at the end of the block. In his stroller with the spinning rims sits his dog, Holly.
“Almost seems like we’re growing up,” Taehyung wipes a fake tear from his cheek as the group pushes the strollers on the sidewalk. 
“Who do you think will push one of these with an actual child first?” Namjoon asks as his dog sniffs the snow, his nose freezing at the contact. 
“Jungkook,” the group answers as Jimin and Taehyung push their strollers in a light jog, racing to the first tree they see a few feet away. 
“Pfft, why me? I’m the baby,” Jungkook protests. 
“Aren’t you the one with the breeding kink?” Yoongi smirks as he walks past the two of you.
Jungkook is left flabbergasted. His face rivals a tomato’s as he feels his ears burn just as bright. 
“I told you that in confidence!”
“Whoops!” Yoongi cackles as he joins the race between Tae and Jimin.  
Jungkook wonders if four inches of melting snow would be enough to drown him.
You push the stroller with Luna, giggling as you jog past Jungkook.
“Sucks for you!” You call over your shoulder. “I’m on the pill!”
Jungkook curses Yoongi, running after him as he threatens to end the Min line with him. 
Namjoon smiles as he walks beside Seokjin, enjoying the chaos he created from his question. 
“You’re an evil little man,” Seokjin cackles as Namjoon laughs and follows the group.
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Thursday afternoon is filled with last-minute Christmas shopping. 
Seojun and Saraí have joined you. Seokjin and Jimin tagged along, but it seemed they weren’t as necessary now as they thought they would be. 
Sure, Seokjin still curbed the conversation when you or Jungkook failed to answer a question or two about your relationship, but it wasn’t anything detrimental. The group honestly thought you had this in the bag, and with Christmas only three days away, there wasn’t a whole lot to worry about. 
Jungkook rubs his neck for the fifth time. He can’t seem to get rid of the soreness he’s gotten from sleeping on the floor. 
You pull him away after you lose Jimin and Seokjin in a department store with blasting Christmas music. 
“Sleep with me tonight,” you said as you held Jungkook’s hand in a surprisingly empty aisle. The hustle and bustle of shoppers falls into the background, and all Jungkook can hear is the rapid drumming of his heart.
“W-what?” He stutters with wide eyes. He toys with his lip ring, a nervous habit of his. 
“Sleep with me on the bed tonight, Kook. You’re obviously in a lot of pain, and I feel bad.” You frown as you turn him around to rub his neck and shoulders. 
Jungkook resists the urge to curse, biting his lip to hide a moan as you get into the muscles. Fuck, he really needed to sleep in a proper bed soon. 
“Are you sure?” Jungkook asks as he slowly pulls your hands off him to hold in his.
“It’s only for a few more days,” you shrug. “Grandmother Jeon leaves for her cruise before the new year, so why not?”
Jungkook is reluctant, but as a cramp hits his neck. 
He nods. “If you’re sure.”
“Definitely,” you smile as you lace your fingers with his to lead him out of the aisle. You lead him out of the store and toward the giant Christmas tree in the center of the mall. 
You take your phone out and snap a cute picture of the two of you before looking at it and see mistletoe on one of the branches above your head. 
Jungkook blushes as he pecks your lips, but you pull him back in for another kiss. You fist his jacket in your hand as you pull him close, your lips moving with his perfectly as the cool metal of his lip ring brushes your lips. You moan when he nips at your lip, gently sucking it before releasing it. 
His dark gaze sends tingles down your spine as you wrap your arms around his neck, and he leans in to kiss you again. 
“Tonight,” Jungkook murmured against your lips, the two of you stuck like magnets, unwilling to pull apart. 
“Tonight,” you agree as you kiss him again, your fingers tugging on his lush locks just enough to make him curse against your lips. 
“You’ll pay for that, baby,” he groans when you do it again.  
“I can’t wait, Koo.”
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Your shower takes longer than usual that night. You shave, exfoliate, and lotion every bit of you that Jungkook might touch. 
You’re nervous but excited at the thought of him touching you. Just kissing you nearly sends you over the edge sometimes, and the way he grips your hips as if he must be anchored to you to breathe, well, it’s a nice feeling. 
By the time you’re climbing into bed, the house is silent. Jungkook turns on his mood lamp, and his playlist plays softly in the background. 
He’s made sure to lock the door this time to keep his mother out. 
A purple towel is draped over his shoulders as he plops down on the desk chair. He gives his hair one more rub, but he’s already had the hairdryer on it for a bit. 
You try not to ogle his bare chest, the colorful sleeve of tattoos grabbing your attention almost 
immediately as he sets the towel down.  
“Mind if I sleep without a shirt on? I tend to run hot,” he explains as he tongues his ring. 
“That’s fine,” you squeak as heat rushes to your cheeks. You pull the covers to your chest, wiggling your toes as you avoid meeting his gaze. Though his abs are now in your view, and your thighs press together in response. What you wouldn’t give to kiss every beautiful ridge of his torso, taking your time on his sensitive brown nipples. You wonder if he’d ever get them pierced. 
“Need anything while I’m up, babe?” Jungkook asks as he stretches, his arms raised over his head and you nearly whimper as you feast on his perfect physique. 
You’re nearly salivating by the time he’s finished stretching. He tilts his head as he waits for your answer but you blink owlishly and finally meet his gaze. 
“Hmm?” You ask as you blink again as he laughs. He shakes his head as he crosses the distance between you, moving the blankets out of the way as he gets into bed with you. 
“You’re adorable,” he whispers as he pecks your nose.
You smile, clearing your throat as you lie on the bed. Jungkook turns on his side to face you, and you do the same. His arm drapes over your waist, and you snuggle in closer.
“I’m glad you’re here,” he whispers, almost as if it were a secret. Perhaps it is with the way he strokes your waist, refusing to make eye contact; afraid of what his words will shift. 
“I’m glad I’m here too, Kook. I don’t want to be anywhere else,” you admit as his gaze meets yours. He studies you for a few moments. His beautiful eyes sparkle like the stars in the night sky, shining brighter and brighter with each passing second until they flutter shut and his lips mold to yours. 
“Jungkook,” his name rolls off your tongue so sweetly. 
“Yeah, baby?” He asks in between kisses, his hands never straying from your hips until you guide them upward to cup your tits. He curses, dark eyes piercing through your soul as you make him squeeze them. 
“Fuck,” you whimper. 
Jungkook kisses you again, swallowing your moans as his thumbs brush your pert nipples. Your hands settle on his broad shoulders, nails digging into his skin as he trails kisses down your neck until he hits that one spot that has you seeing stars behind your lids.  
“Jungkook,” you sigh as you part your legs for him. He settles between them as your nails rake down his broad muscular back. You’d love to kiss every inch of it. Leave your mark behind for all to see. For now, you’ll settle for your scratch marks, storing each of his delicious sounds for later. 
Fiery lips meet yours as his hips rock against you. His hands feel every bit of you, moving when he notes any hesitation.
“Is this okay?” He asks softly, his gaze locked on yours. 
You nod.
“I need words, baby,” he says as he brushes his thumb along your jaw. “I need to hear it.”
“Please,” you swallow thickly, mesmerized by his soft doe eyes. “I want it. Want you.”
Jungkook traces your bottom lip with his thumb, admiring your beauty for a moment before he kisses you again as if it were the last time. 
Time means nothing to you as you melt beneath him. His hands are hot against your flesh, needy where they meet to pull you closer. Your name escapes him between moans and gasps, your hand guiding him between your legs. 
“Please,” you beg as he pushes your shorts to the side, groaning when he feels how wet you are. 
“No panties, darling?” He grins as he kisses your jaw and trails downward. 
“Didn’t think I needed them,” you gasp when his fingers brush your clit. He’s teasing you. He wants to see how far he can take you before you beg him for more, plead and whine until he gives you just what you need. 
Jungkook licks his lips, shaking his long hair out of his eyes before he tongues his lip ring. His breath fans against your heated skin, teeth gently nipping your earlobe as he whispers, “You were right.”
Your thighs shake at the sound of his seductive tone, spreading further for him as he lifts your shirt to bunch above your breasts. 
“Keep that right there, baby. Can you do that for me?” He raises a brow, and you nod. 
“Yes.”
“Good girl,” he praises, kissing your lips before making his way down until his fingers are tugging on your flimsy sleep shorts. 
“Can I take these off?” Jungkook asks as he meets your eyes. You nod, feeling fire pool deep in your belly. You want him desperately, almost embarrassingly, with how soaked you are for him already. 
When he doesn’t make a move to take them off, you remember he wants you to be vocal about your consent.
“Yes, please.” 
Jungkook pulls the shorts down your legs at a snail’s pace, giving you enough time to change your mind if you wish to. You encourage him by lifting your hips and kicking the shorts off to be lost on his bedroom floor. 
You don’t get a chance to be self-conscious as he cups your face and kisses you so deeply, that you almost wonder if he’s in love with you. 
The pounding of your heart is deafening as the kiss deepens and his hips press against your cunt. Your name rolls off his tongue, cursing and groaning when his hard cock grinds against you. 
“You’ve soaked my sweatpants,” he laughs breathily, and you clench around nothing. Your face feels like it’s burning, but from lust or embarrassment, you’re not sure. Jungkook kisses your cheeks, your nose, and finally your lips. 
“S-sorry,” you apologized as he rubs your clit, his nimble fingers circling it just to make you whine. Jungkook teases your entrance with his tattooed fingers, loving the way you whimper and beg for more, biting your bottom lip to keep from getting too loud. 
“Fuck, baby,” you moan when he finally sinks two fingers in knuckle-deep. You clench around them as he slowly fucks them into you, his thumb rubbing your clit as he focuses on the rise and fall of your chest.  
Jungkook palms his cock with his other hand, moaning softly when your eyes lock. He smirks as you reach for him and he places your hand on his cock. 
“Can you take them off?” You ask bashfully, and he chuckles before slowly taking his fingers out of you. He sucks them into his mouth, eyes nearly rolling to the back of his head as he gets a taste of you. 
Fuck, he’d have you for breakfast, lunch, and dinner every day for the rest of his life if you’d let him. 
Your thighs tremble as he steps back, cunt soaked and dripping onto his sheets. You’re the first girl he’s had in his bed like this and he hopes your scent lingers long after you’re back home. 
Jungkook is a vision. An Adonis among men. Michaelangelo himself would have shed a tear upon gazing at the masterpiece that is Jeon Jungkook. 
Speechless, you reach for him as he chuckles. He takes your hand and brings it to his lips, kissing it gently before placing it on his chest. 
“Do as you wish, my love,” Jungkook says as he follows your hand with his hooded gaze. 
Your brain seems to be empty of all thoughts except Jungkook. His name, his body, that sinful smile that tugs at the corner of his lips. He’s eyeing you with mirth, licking his lips as your hand descends until it’s cupping his erection. 
“Fuck,” he breathes as you stroke him, your fingers sliding under his boxers to feel the weight of him in your palm. He groans, whispering your name as you continue to stroke him, pausing only to spit in your hand. He takes the moment to tug his boxers off.
Jungkook kisses you as you touch him again, his fingers finding their home between your thighs as he gets you to nearly sing his name in praise as you tighten around him. 
“Wish you were wrapped around my fat cock, babe. I’d make you scream even louder,” he goads as you muffle your cries in his broad shoulder right beside his little scar. 
“Jungkook, please,” you beg as he kisses you deeply. It’s hot, messy, all teeth and tongues and desperate touches as his cock pressed against your clit. You’re soaking wet, dripping onto the sheets and allowing his cock to glide easily, the fat head bumping against your clit as your legs wrap around him trembling at his sides. 
“Koo!” You whine, biting down on his shoulder. Hasty kisses meet his skin as you soothe the pain of your love bite. Your body becomes overwhelmed with pleasure, arching into him as you orgasm, squeezing his fingers until they’re soaked beyond his wrist. 
Jungkook cries out your name, lips finding yours in a sloppy kiss that swallows his moans and groans as he cums all over your cunt. His hips rock against you until he’s well spent, cock too sensitive to go on. 
“Shit!” He breathes as he lies beside you with his arm over his head. 
You’re warm and sticky beside him, his cum coating your skin generously. Jungkook kisses your cheek as he pulls you to him, using his other hand to fix his boxers. 
He doesn’t like the way they cling to him and he’ll be sure to clean himself up as well as you before you go to sleep. 
Silence fills the space between you as you stare at each other with bashful smiles and gentle touches. Jungkook kisses your lips softly, his fingers caressing your cheek.  
“I really do like you, ya know,” he admits, and it sends your heart soaring into the heavens. 
You bite back a giant grin as you lace your fingers together. “I really like you too.”
Jungkook blushes, kissing you once more before he climbs out of bed to get cleaned up. He assures you he’ll be back in a few minutes and he cleans you up with a warm washcloth and helps you to the bathroom. 
Once you’re both in bed again, he snuggles into you. His fluffy hair splays on your chest as he snores softly. You smile to yourself as you hold back a yawn. 
Jungkook sleeps soundly as you stroke his hair, hoping this can be more than just pretend. 
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Christmas Eve brings a blanket of snow and Seojun and Saraí. 
Though you and Jungkook haven’t done more than fool around that one night, you’ve found it hard to keep your hands to yourself. 
Seojun, Saraí, and Jungkook took you sledding at one of their favorite spots. 
Jimin, Taehyung, and Yoongi were already there when you arrived, holding hands with Jungkook. 
“Where are Joon and Seokjin?” You ask as you hide your face from the wind on Jungkook's shoulder. He laughs as he tightens your scarf and kisses your head. 
“They went to pick up Hoseok at the train station. Hoseok’s parents are busy prepping for Christmas Eve dinner, and his sister is bringing someone home,” Jimin explains as he hands his sled to Taehyung to take a turn.  
“Sounds serious,” Yoongi comments with a sly grin. 
“My parents keep asking when I’ll bring someone home,” Jimin sighs. “Are you free next Christmas?”
Jungkook scoffs. “As if.”
“Not you.” Jimin rolls his eyes before saying your name. 
Yoongi laughs as Taehyung comes back. 
“I don’t think passing me around as a fake girlfriend is what your parents mean, Min,” you shake your head as you take the sled from Taehyung. 
Jimin shrugs. “Worth a shot.”
Jungkook glares at him before you tug him away to the top of the hill. He helps you onto the sled before he gets on behind you and pushes. You scream and close your eyes as you go down, laughing when you come to a stop moments later. 
“Wanna go again?” Jungkook grins as he helps you up. You shake your head as you pat the snow off your clothing. 
“I’m good,” you laugh. “Once was enough.”
The trek back up the hill is rough as you stomp in the snow to reach your friends. Jungkook hands the sled to Yoongi as he wraps his arms around your waist, resting his head on your shoulder. 
Despite admitting to liking each other, you haven’t talked to determine what that means. For one, you kind of like this limbo you’re in where you’re not not together but also not truly faking either. 
At one point or another, you’ll have to have that conversation, but it’s Christmas Eve, and Jungkook looks too cute with his giant snowball. 
Oh, no.
He’s heading toward you and Jimin. This is what happens when you get lost in thought. Jimin grabs your hand and pulls as Yoongi and Taehyung run in the opposite direction.  
Jungkook cackles as he chases after you and Jimin. The snowball rises high in the air as he shouts, “Come get your Christmas gift, Park!”
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Luna herds the family up the stairs later that night when she’s ready for bed.
Jungkook and you wear your matching pajamas. An evening of food, laughter, and photos has drained you as you go up the stairs after Minji and Luna. 
Jungkook keeps his hand on your lower back, guiding your sleepy self up the stairs and down the hall. 
“Goodnight, honey,” Minji kisses Jungkook’s cheek and then yours. 
You smile as you climb into bed with Jungkook beside you. His mood lamp is on, and you’re grateful for the pink stars that light the ceiling. Even at your age, you’re still a little scared of the dark.  
“What’s on your mind?” Jungkook asks as he rolls to his side to face you. 
You face him, your fingers laced with his. 
“I’m just really glad I came to your home for the holidays. It’s been amazing. You, your family, everything has been perfect.” you smile warmly as he brings your knuckles to his lips to kiss gently. 
“I’m glad you came. I know this whole thing has been a little odd, but getting to know you and being here with you has been the best part of this Christmas.” Jungkook pecks you on the lips, unable to control the smile that lights up his face. 
Your gaze holds his, the sparkle in his eyes making you fall for him a little more as they grow brighter with each passing second.
“Kiss me,” you whisper as you lean in closer, and he closes the distance between you with his lips. They’re soft and taste like strawberry chapstick when they brush against your lips. You break apart for a moment, his eyes revealing more than you want to speak of now. 
Instead, you whisper, “Kiss me again.”
Slowly, Jungkook kisses you again. He cups your face while you tug on his shirt, quickly removing it from him. 
His breathy laugh brushes your skin as he noses at your throat. “Eager?”
“Shut up,” you hiss, climbing on top of him as his hands grip your hips. 
Jungkook groans at your words, licking his lips as you take your top off to discard on the bedroom floor. Your fingers make quick work of your bra and soon you’re left topless and horny on top of him. 
“Fuck,” Jungkook curses as he gets an eyeful of your breasts and nearly drools as his hands move upwards to cup them in his hands. You moan his name when his fingers brush the sensitive nipples, making them peak. 
As much as he loves seeing you on top, Jungkook wants to take his time with you. This was a turn of events he wasn’t expecting, otherwise, he would have waited for your first time together to be at his place, in private where you could scream his name as loud as you wanted. 
However, he won’t pass up the chance to have you. You’ve had such a hard time keeping your hands off each other even around your friends. Stealing kisses and sneaking off to make out in dim hallways and busy restaurant alleys. Light touches under tables, lustful looks shared across the room until you could sneak off together and kiss as if your lives depended on it. 
If Jungkook could do this all over again, he would. Only he’d make you his from the get-go. But that’s a thought for another time as your hands glide up his torso, moaning at the sight of him. 
“Jungkook,” his name tumbles so sweetly from your kiss-swollen lips. 
His breath fans across your face as he chuckles. His dark locks create a curtain between you. Slowly, your fingers push his hair out of the way to find his sparkling eyes locked on yours. You melt beneath him as he kisses you. 
Your hands grip his strong shoulders as your legs wrap around his hips to pull him close. Jungkook laughs at your eagerness, teeth nipping your bottom lip before releasing it. 
Jungkook kisses his way down to your neck, sucking on the sensitive skin until his name fills the bedroom. You cover your mouth to muffle your moans, but he’s quick to remove it. 
With lust-filled eyes, you watch as he takes your hand and brings it to his lips, kissing each fingertip until he’s kissing your palm and moving upwards. 
Jungkook wants to take his time with you. Show you his appreciation from the crown of your head to the tips of your toes. He knows you’ll only let him do so much before you beg for more, more, more…
Like clockwork, your fingers thread through his hair directing his lips to yours as you kiss him with everything you’ve got. He moans against your lips, cursing when you tug on his bottom lip. 
Your hands move downward across the massive expanse of his back, each muscle rippling beneath your touch as you arch into him. Your hips grind against him, the thin material of your shorts already soaking wet with your arousal. 
Jungkook nearly growls when he feels it, cock throbbing in the next moment. He hikes your leg up higher on his waist, his hand grabbing your ass as his lips feverishly seek yours. 
Gasps and moans fill the space between you in between hot, needy kisses that make your toes curl. Panting, you beg him for more as his hands tug your shorts off to toss on the bedroom floor; forgotten until morning. 
You lay bare beneath him as he sat back on his haunches. His hands lace with yours, a soft bashful smile on his lips. 
“You’re beautiful,” he whispers, his eyes never straying from yours as he leans in for a kiss. 
Jungkook’s had enough teasing. His hands grip your thighs, cursing when he feels your wetness on your skin. He slowly rubs your clit, his dark hooded gaze on yours. 
“Fuck, baby,” he curses as he moves his fingers downward and slowly slides them inside you. He watches you closely; loves the way your eyes flutter shut and your teeth sink into your bottom lip as he curls his fingers and rubs your clit with his thumb. 
“Kook,” you moan when he goes faster, slipping a little deeper just to watch you tremble. “Fuck me.”
You’re tired of waiting. You’ve wanted this since before you shared your first kiss and now being naked in his bed is becoming too much. You’ve dreamed of this time and time again and it’s about to become a reality if Jungkook can stop teasing you and just split you open. 
You’ll beg, plead, and cry if you have to just for a taste of him. Just for a moment of sweet bliss. 
“Please,” you beg as your hands palm over his cock in his pajama pants. You’re quick to tug them downward and Jungkook laughs at your excitement. He gets off the bed to kick them off and your mouth waters at the sight of his thick cock as he wraps his hand around it and strokes it. 
You bite your bottom lip, watching him intently until you’re getting on your knees and crawling to the edge of the bed. 
Jungkook groans when your hand wraps around his length. Your tongue licking the head teasingly. His gaze burns into the top of your head as your lips wrap around him. You relax your jaw as you take him in further, drooling all over yourself as you remind yourself to breathe through your nose. 
He feels heavy on your tongue as you open wider. His hands grip your hair hesitantly before you pull off him. 
“Don’t be scared,” you giggle. “I won’t break.”
“Fuck,” Jungkook groans as you wrap your lips around him once again. He lets you find your pace, not pushing too deep before he’s guiding you. Your hand rolls his balls while the other strokes him. 
“Just like that. Fuck,” Jungkook throws his head back, the mood lamp illuminates the room, accentuating the veins in his neck, and he curses again. You moan around him, slurping as you get messy, bobbing up and down, gagging on his fat cock while Jungkook loses his mind over your pretty lips. 
He pulls on your hair, using it to fuck your mouth until your nose presses to his abdomen. You choke, pulling off him to catch your breath. 
“You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth,” Jungkook tongues his lip ring as he takes you in. You’re breathing heavily trying to catch your breath. Your hair is mussed from him tugging on it, and your lips are smeared with spit and his pre-cum. You look beautiful.
Jungkook leans forward, kissing you. All teeth and tongue, unable to resist how gorgeous you look in that moment. 
It’s not too long before you’re back on the bed with your legs spread wide open for him, begging for his cock once again. 
“So needy,” Jungkook coos as he strokes himself, the fat head of his cock brushing your clit. 
“Please,” you whimper, trying to raise your hips in hopes that he’ll just slide right in. “Fuck.”
Jungkook bites his lip. He’s never seen anyone so desperate for his dick. It makes him throb as he teases your entrance and a whine of his name escapes you, nails digging into his back. 
“Don’t make me find someone else,” you huff. 
Jungkook rolls his eyes as he kisses your jaw, trailing upward to your ear before taking the lobe between his teeth. 
“They can’t fuck you as good as I will,” he laughs cockily. 
You arch into him, lips meeting his in a needy kiss as he slides into you. The stretch is wonderful. Stars illuminate your vision as Jungkook’s lips muffle the moan that threatens to wake the whole house. 
The two of you have managed to keep the noises down to a reasonable level but Jungkook knows his luck might run out if he gets too carried away. Shit, he should have waited until he had you to himself at his apartment or even your dorm. 
“Gotta be quiet, baby. Or I’ll have to stop,” Jungkook whispers as he sinks in further. “You don’t want me to stop, do you?”
“No, please don’t stop. Koo,” you press your lips to his shoulder as he goes deeper, gripping your thighs with his large hands. He settles between your legs perfectly, cursing at the ceiling at how warm and wet you feel wrapped around him. It’s better than he could have ever imagined. 
Jungkook grabs both of your legs, throwing them over his left shoulder as he pummels into you. 
Tears flow down your cheeks. The pleasure is too overwhelming, lighting your body ablaze with each deep thrust that rewards you. 
“So tight,” Jungkook grunts as his hair falls over his eyes. He pushes it back with his tattooed hand before moving it down to grope your breast, his fingers rolling your nipple just to listen to the sweet cries that escape you. 
You tighten around him, soaking his cock as you cover your mouth with your hand. 
Jungkook smiles, fucking you deeper, harder. Your cunt clings to him, thighs shaking as he holds your legs to his chest. His lips press a kiss to your calf before you dig your nails into the sheets beneath you, beyond ruined. 
The creaking of the mattress is louder than Jungkook would like, but you look like you’re about to combust. His name leaves your lips in quick succession, nearly panting as tears roll down your cheeks, leaving behind stains as you bite your hand to keep from screaming his name as you tighten around him when you cum. 
Jungkook fucks you slower, eyes focused on where your bodies connect. He waits for you to calm down, leaning forward to kiss your lips. 
“Can you go for one more?” Jungkook asks in between kisses, your tongue meeting his as he cups your face. 
“Yes,” you answer honestly, wanting more of him. 
Jungkook kisses you one more time, moaning into the kiss as you clench around his cock. He nearly growls when you do it again, moving your hips against his.  
“Let me get you on your hands and knees, darling,” Jungkook says as he pulls out of you and you whine at the loss. 
Jungkook chuckles. “Easy, doll. You’ll have my ego growing bigger.”
You laugh, flipping him off. Jungkook laughs, leaning forward to gently nibble on your finger before you rip it out of his mouth.
Smirking, Jungkook helps you onto your knees as you plant your hands on the bed, arching your back. 
Jungkook runs his tattooed hand over your back, gently slapping your ass just to watch it jiggle. He couldn’t lie, seeing you in jeans made his mouth water and there were a few times he had to excuse himself after staring at it for too long. 
“Kook,” you say his name in a wanton tone that makes him melt. 
Your eyes lock and he smiles as he grabs your ass in both hands, spreading you open for him. Your face grows hot as you turn around, unable to handle the dark lust-filled gaze he rewarded you with. 
Jungkook doesn’t waste any more time as he lines himself up at your entrance, cursing when you welcome him easily. 
His hands grip your hips tightly, almost enough to bruise. His name rolls off your tongue. You nearly drool when he reaches places others have only dreamed of. 
You're so warm, so wet. It nearly drives him insane as he spears you on his cock. You’re soaking him, absolutely drenching him, and ruining him for anyone else. You’re the only one he wants, the only one he could ever want, and as he throws his head back in pleasure, he loses himself to thoughts he’d only shared with Yoongi. 
“Fuck, baby,” Jungkook growls, gripping your ass as he continues to fuck you. He cards his hand through his hair, feeling sweat bead on his brow as you grow restless and fuck yourself on his dick. 
“Just like that, baby. Use me. Use my cock. Fuck,” Jungkook groans as you fuck yourself on him, panting and moaning. He can see you biting down on his pillow, cunt pulsing around him as you scream into the pillow trying to keep quiet. 
Jungkook watches you for another moment or two before he’s slamming into you. You cry out, face buried in his pillow as he grabs handfuls of your hips and ass, unable to decide what to use to anchor himself as he fills you again and again. 
“Fuck, darling. You feel so good wrapped around me,” Jungkook grunts as his eyes flutter shut. His body tingles all over, and your moans are growing in octaves despite the pillow clenched between your teeth soaked with spit and tears. 
The obscene smacking of your coupling is almost too loud but Jungkook can’t be damned to give a single fuck as you clench around him, nearly milking his cock. He moans your name and curses as you tighten around him, moaning incoherently as you orgasm once again. Your poor legs shake as you ride it out, sobbing unintelligibly into the bed as praises you. 
“Want to fuck you full of my cum, baby,” Jungkook can’t help himself as he thrusts in deeper. He’s so close. His lip is caught between his teeth as you fuck yourself weakly on his cock, your body still tingling. 
“Please, do it,” you spur him on as you clench around him, tempting him. 
“Baby!”
“Jungkook!”
“Gonna fill you up until you’re dripping. Gonna fuck it all back into you, baby. Make you think of me all day.” Jungkook curses as you meet each of his thrusts, his fingers finding your sensitive clit as you muffle a wail of his name in your hand.
“Come on, love. Just one more for me, pretty girl,” Jungkook encourages as he nears the edge. He curses, losing himself as he fills you, and you tighten around him, soaking him and the sheets. A whimper escapes you as you fall forward on the bed, utterly spent. 
Jungkook exhales deeply as he fills you to the brim before pulling out. He’s tempted to spread your legs and set them on his broad shoulders, lick you clean, and put you to bed. 
But you’re spent, eyes barely open as you reach for him. 
Jungkook kisses you gently. “Gotta clean you up, babe.”
You groan, legs already feeling sore. Jungkook helps you out of bed. He puts a shirt on you and opens his bedroom door as quietly as possible. He peeks into the hallway, making sure the coast is clear before he leads you to the bathroom. 
Jungkook made sure you were steady enough to not fall before he ran to the room to change the sheets and pillowcases. By the time you’re back, he’s in a pair of boxers. 
“Get in bed, babe,” he instructs as he helps you in and tucks you in. “I’ll be right back.”
You watch him go, waiting for him and smiling when he comes back a few minutes later with some water. He lets you drink a bit before he gets into bed beside you. 
You curl into him, still unsure of what all this means, but you don’t care much when he wraps you up in his arms and holds you close. 
“Sleep well, darling.”
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Christmas morning passes in a whirlwind of breakfast and movies. Lots of stories from Jungkook’s childhood; few you heard from the man himself and more from his parents. Jungkook grows embarrassed soon, but nothing beats the flush on his cheeks when his mother pulls out the photo albums. Lunch came and passed with more stories and photos as Jungkook hid his face on your shoulder.
It’s not until after dinner that you’re all gathered in the living room with Minji and the Jeons. 
“Come here, dear,” Minji pats the spot beside her as she holds a large pink photo album in her lap. One she brought for your arrival. 
Jungkook sits on the arm of the couch next to you, curious eyes on the album as Minji opens it and takes out two envelopes. 
One she hands to Jungkook and the other to you. 
You’re confused. The family had exchanged gifts just after dinner with good wishes and warm coffee and cookies. Wrapping paper and gift bags still littered the living room floor. 
“The two of you are so good together,” Minji comments as Jungkook kisses the top of your head. “I had this same talk with Saraí and Seojun when he first brought her home. Same with your father and your mother, and now you.”
Minji places a hand on yours. “I first met Jungkook’s grandfather at the Christmas parade in town. Oh, we couldn’t stand each other one bit!”
Jungkook chuckles as he listens to his grandmother.
“We were assigned the same parade float, and I swear that man was as stubborn as a mule! He wanted goats instead of reindeer, fireworks instead of candles, and he wanted me to be Santa! He said he’d be an elf! He was over six feet tall! An elf!” Minji shakes her head as she points to a photo of her as an elf and who you assume to be Jungkook’s grandfather as Santa. 
“I arm wrestled him for it!” Minji exclaims proudly. “In front of his friends, and I won fair and square! I grew up with three brothers.”
You laugh as she turns the page, and Minji sits with her brothers. They all smile in the photo and make silly faces. 
“I thought he’d be embarrassed that I beat him. But I got my way. I stood my ground and he claimed that’s when he knew I was the one for him,” Minji continues as she flips the page and runs her fingers over her wedding photo. 
Tears pool in your eyes as you look at Jungkook. He looks like he’s about to cry, and guilt fills your chest. 
“That man gave me a wonderful life. Beautiful children and cute grandkids. I miss him every day. Stubborn man he was, but there was nothing we couldn’t get through together.” Minji wipes a stray tear before smiling fondly. 
“Anyway,” she sniffles as she sets the album on the coffee table. 
“I wanted to give you two something special to get you started. I know you haven’t been together for too long, but Jungkook looks at you the way his grandfather looked at me and you the way I looked at him. I know it deep in my soul that you two belong together.” Minji smiles warmly as she takes your hand and Jungkook’s. “Be good to each other.”
You wipe a few tears and look at Jungkook. He opens the envelope, and it holds a photo of a home (not an apartment) with the address written on the back and a small gold key. 
You can’t do this. 
Not anymore.
The Jeons have welcomed you with open arms and all you’ve done is lie to them. Guilt washes over you in waves as you force yourself not to cry. This is wrong. 
You hand the envelope back to Minji before rising to your feet. Your heart pounds in your chest, nearly deafening you as you try (and fail) to steel yourself. 
“We lied,” you state, wringing your hands in front of you. 
Jungkook frowns as he hands his envelope back to Minji. Guilt bubbles deep in his belly, and he knows this has gone too far. He should have never gone on with this scheme. Conning his grandmother? He felt terrible. He should have told the truth from the beginning. 
“We aren’t a couple,” Jungkook admits, feeling the confused stares of his family. “We lied to you all.”
Aera and Dae stare at their youngest son and then at you. 
Minji shakes her head.
“I lied,” Jungkook continues as he takes your hand. “She had nothing to do with it. I begged her to help me. I’m so sorry, Grandmother Jeon.”
Seojun stares with furrowed brows as Saraí places her hand on his shoulder. He couldn’t fathom why his little brother would lie.
“I thought Grandmother Jeon would give me an apartment or something if she thought I was seeing someone seriously like Seojun.” Jungkook hangs his head in shame. “The lie kept growing and growing until I was too embarrassed to tell the truth. I never meant to hurt anyone. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s not all his fault, Grandmother Jeon,” you said as you squeezed his hand. “I agreed to help. You’ve all been so welcoming, and I didn’t have a place to go for the holidays, and I agreed. We never intended to harm anyone. We’re both so sorry.”
Minji laughs from her seat, surprising Aera and Dae. 
“I know all about your little scheme,” Minji laughs, shaking her head as if this were the most comical thing she has witnessed. “Jimin’s grandmother hits the slot machines with me, and that boy sure loves to open his mouth. I’ve known since I arrived, honey.”
“Jungkook! Why would you lie? You know you could have told us anything!” Aera crosses her arms as she scolds her son. 
“I just felt pressured,” Jungkook admits, and his mother sinks. “I hadn’t dated in a while, and I know you’d like to see me married like Seojun, but it just seemed like this is what everyone wanted from me.”
“Son,” Dae approaches him, hugging him. “We know we can be a little pushy, and I promise you will no longer feel pressured to settle down. We just got excited over Seojun. We wanted you to have the same happiness and partnership he and Saraí do.”
“Your father’s right,” Aera nods as she hugs Jungkook. “Oh, my baby! I’m so sorry for pressuring you! I just worry about you being alone so far away.”
“I’m fine, mom. I’ve got friends, and now I have her.” Jungkook reaches for you once his parents release him from their hugs.
Aera hugs you. “I’m so sorry for all this. We enjoy having you here. You’ve made our son and family so happy with your presence. It’s been a joy getting to know you and seeing how happy you’ve made our Kookie.”
You smile, hugging her tight before Minji hands Jungkook the envelope again. 
“That’s yours to do as you please,” she states as she hands you your envelope.
You open it and gasp when you see two tickets to a resort you’ve wanted to go to. They’re dated for Spring Break.
“I’ve got a place down there that you’re welcome to visit during your vacation, but Jimin’s grandmother and I will be busy partying.”
“Mother!” Dae exclaims in shock. 
“What? I’m old enough to drink! I’ve been old enough to drink.” she shakes her head with a laugh. 
“I can’t accept this.” you try to return it, but Minji won’t take it. 
“No takebacks!” She grins as she rises from the couch, and Luna follows her, yapping at her ankles. 
“Should we go see the Christmas lights?” Seojun suggests as he rises to his feet and helps Saraí. 
The family heads out to join the rest of the neighborhood on a walk. Jimin, Taehyung, Yoongi, Namjoon, Hoseok, and Seokjin join you as you let your families go on ahead without you. 
“How’d it go?” Hoseok asks as he shivers, his ears peeking from his beanie. 
“Yeah,” Seokjin grins. “Did you get the apartment?”
“Did the plan work?” Taehyung questions. 
“Yes,” you say with a wry smile. 
“And no.” Jungkook shakes his head. 
“Huh?” Yoongi furrows his brows. 
“Jimin needs to learn that gossiping with your grandmother can bite you in the butt!” Jungkook hisses as he laces his fingers with yours. 
Jimin pales, turning his head and whistling to appear nonchalant. 
“Yeah, Min!” You agree with a laugh as Jungkook kisses your cheek. 
“I thought she’d forget!” Jimin defends as he gets playfully shoved by his friends. The snow crunches beneath your feet as you continue to walk, the glow of the Christmas lights reflecting on the snow. 
“Oh no,” you giggle. “Jimin’s grandmother told Grandmother Jeon.”
“And she knew the moment she stepped into the house,” Jungkook sighed with a shake of his head. 
“Whoops!” Jimin laughs. 
“So much for ‘Con Jungkook’s Grandma, huh?” Namjoon sighed as a chill ran through him. His scarf fluttered in the light wind as snowflakes fell from the sky. 
“Shut up!” Jungkook laughs as he stops to form a snowball. 
Seokjin laughs, pulling Yoongi with him as they run away from Jungkook. 
Hoseok and Jimin slam into each other in their haste to escape the ricocheting snowball that smacks Namjoon in the chest. 
Namjoon curses, forming a snowball as Taehyung runs away, following Yoongi and Seokjin, begging them to protect him. 
You laugh as you take off, running with Jungkook as Namjoon hurls a snowball in your direction. 
Laughter fills the streets of the neighborhood as more people join the snowball fight while you jog away with Jungkook, holding hands as you hide behind a tree for cover. 
You’re pressed to his chest, peeking to see if you’ve been discovered yet, but being so far away from everyone just means silence surrounds you. 
The evening is quiet as snow continues to fall, and Jungkook wraps his scarf around you to keep you warm. You’re wearing matching coats, hands warm in your gloves as he pulls you closer. 
Everything fades into nothingness as his gaze meets yours. His hand is gentle when he cups your face. His gaze flits to your lips and back to your eyes. 
“You know this is the best Christmas I’ve ever had,” Jungkook whispers. 
“Me too,” you whisper as you hold his gaze.
“There’s only one thing that would make it better,” Jungkook smiles softly.
“And what’s that?” You ask as you bite your bottom lip.
“If you were mine,” Jungkook said with a dimpled smile. “For real this time.”
“I think I can make that happen,” you tease with a coquette smile. “But only with a kiss.”
Chuckling, Jungkook cups your face. “As you wish, baby.”
Jungkook captures your lips with his own, moaning when your fingers thread in his hair. He kisses you deeply as snowflakes coat your hair and his. 
There’s nothing better than kissing Jungkook, your boyfriend. The word makes your heart skip a beat as he deepens the kiss, soft moans escaping the both of you as your lips move in sync. 
Jungkook can’t help but be elated. His heart flutters as he realizes this is your first Christmas together. The first of many. He can see his future in your eyes—a home, a marriage, and children running down these streets covered in snow and Christmas lights. 
There’s nothing more he could ever want.
When he catches your gaze, a bashful smile appears on your lips as you ask, “What?” 
Jungkook shakes his head slightly, “Nothing. Just thinking about next Christmas.” 
“Oh, will I be back?” You ask cheekily as he pulls you closer, the laughter of your friends ringing in the background as they grow closer. 
“Definitely.” Jungkook seals his promise with a kiss just as your friends arrive, hooting as they circle you.
 “Come on, lovebirds,” Namjoon huffs. “Momma Jeon’s got hot chocolate and cookies waiting for us.” 
You laugh as Jungkook takes your hand, smiling as his friends race down the sidewalk to be the first on Momma Jeon’s porch. You smile, imagining all your Christmases like this, with your friends and Jungkook at your side. 
Before you reach his home, Jungkook stops you just beneath the door frame before pointing up. Mistletoe hangs above your head, and you share a smile. Jungkook gently places his hand on your cheek, his thumb caressing it as he whispers, “Merry Christmas.” before he kisses you.
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<&lt; part one
© jjungkookislife - I do not allow reposts or translations of my work on any platforms, this includes Youtube.
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kgficz · 4 months
Text
Trust
Bucky Barnes x Reader, The Winter Soldier x Reader
Summary: Set during the end of ‘Captain America: The Winter Soldier’. You had been forced to work as a nurse for Hydra’s soldiers, you never expected The Winter Soldier to be one of them. What happens when he starts to care about you?
Word Count: 1.3k
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Soldiers gripped your arm tightly, dragging you through the corridor and into an open room. Your eyes immediately found Bucky sitting back in the chair in the middle; guards standing all around him with their weapons drawn. His eyes followed you as you were pulled in.
The soldiers pushed you over to Pierce and held you still as you struggled, attempting to break free from them grasp.
“He’s not listening to us.” Pierce says firmly before looming over you, his breath grazing your cheeks.
“I know you two have… a connection” he says with a scowl. “Get him to listen to us, or.. watch me break him”
You let out a deep breath as your eyes darken. You glance over at Bucky to see his head facing down to the ground; you’d never seen him like this before. When Hydra forced you to work as a nurse for his soldiers, you’d never thought The Winter Soldier would be one of them.
“Get everyone out” you demand, wanting to be left alone with him. Pierce raises a hand and the soldiers let go of you before leaving the room.
“You too” you say to Pierce as you stare him down. You weren’t afraid to make it known how much you hated him. Pierce looked you over as he licked his bottom lip. “You have 10 minutes” he growled before storming out of the room.
Within seconds you’re moving over to the Bucky, crouching down in front of him in hopes to get his attention. His eyes flicker up to yours as he scans your face. His memory was wiped so often, he could barely recognise who you were.
“Are you alright..?” You asked softly, careful to not alarm him.
His eyes continued looking you over, taking in your features as he listened to your words; your voice growing familiar.
“What is it..?” You asked softly, almost whispering.
His chest rose and fell as he breathed in slowly.
“There was a man..” he said quietly “on the bridge. I knew him” he added before looking up at you.
Your chest ached as he spoke; Hydra had taken so much away from him. Although he was slipping through the cracks; you knew they would push him back into submission. You sighed as he finished speaking, wishing you could do more to help him.
“He called me.. Bucky” he continued as he looked into your eyes.
“That’s my name.. isn’t it?” He asks with a gentle tone. All you could do was nod in response; you’d seen enough of his file to know the basic details about him. About what Hydra had turned him into.
His head hung low, his mind racing with memories he could not understand. You wanted to reach out, to somehow console him. You couldn’t pull your eyes away from him; it pained you to see him like this. Your hand reached out to move the strands of hair from his face. His eyes were focused, watching you but not pulling away from your touch.
“They- they will keep hurting you” you say softly. You hated what Hydra had done; but who knew what would happen to him if he fought them back on this. “I don’t.. know how to help you” you added quietly, your eyes falling to the floor as they grew teary.
Bucky’s eyes followed your movement, almost as though he was studying you. He couldn’t understand your care for him. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone did care for him.
Pierce and his men burst through the door, rushing over to you. His men pulled you up from the ground, their hands gripping your arms tightly causing you to wince in pain. Bucky’s eyes were glued on you as he fought the urge to stand up.
Pierce pressed a gun to your head as his eyes stayed on Bucky.
“Are you ready to comply?” He said, cocking his head as he finished speaking.
Bucky took in a deep breath and nodded before two soldiers pushed him back into his seat. The soldier on you pulled you out of the room; the last thing you heard were Bucky’s pained screams.
-
Your eyes were glued to the TV, watching it all unfold. Watching Hydra finally being exposed. You couldn’t believe it. The news had reported signs of “The Winter Soldier” and “Captain America” involved. Watching all the explosions on the screen caused you to cry. You knew he must be dead.
As the hours passed, you finally managed to leave your apartment. You needed to get some food and clear your mind. You’d clearly just lost your forced job for Hydra.. but what the hell were you supposed to do now.
When you returned to your apartment, you opened the door and reached for the light with one hand whilst you held a bag of food in the other.
A figure stood in the corner of the lounge causing your heart to feel as though it had stopped in your chest. You let out a gasp before stepping back against the door. You squinted your eyes as your vision began to focus.
“Bucky…” you whispered as you stepped forward.
“Don’t” he replied quickly. “Don’t get too close” he added.
You stopped in your tracks and your heart pounded in your chest. Your eyes scanned his features. His face had been wounded from what you could see. You couldn’t believe he survived.
“You’re hurt..” you say quietly, trying to make him feel comfortable as you spoke.
“I’m fine” he answers quickly.
You place the food down on the table in front of you, moving slowly. You watch each other carefully.
“Would you like something to eat?” You offer with a soft smile, trying your best to break the tension. You can see him contemplating, his mind appears to be racing. His eyes are scanning your features, as though he is unsure if he can trust you.
Eventually, he nods and steps forward. You place a container of food down in front of him; he eats slowly and carefully. You can’t help but watch him, wondering when was the last time he ate a genuine meal. When the two of you finished eating, he stood back again.
“Can I see your wound..? Please” you asked gently, referring to the cut on his cheekbone.
His eyes looked down to the ground as you finished speaking. After a few seconds he gave you a small nod; putting his trust in you. You quickly grabbed some supplies and pulled a stool out for him. You ask him to sit and he did.
As you cleaned up his wound, his eyes followed you; focusing on your movements. He was analysing you, dissecting you. You could see the confusion in his eyes as you worked carefully; gently. ‘When was the last time someone treated him with genuine care?’ You thought to yourself.
Eventually you stepped back, looking over his face. “That should do it” you said with a gentle smile as he locked eyes with you. His lips parted as though he wanted to speak but he soon shut them.
“If you want, you can use my shower?” You began to say. “I don’t exactly have anything.. your size. But I could get some” you add with a soft chuckle.
His eyes darted back and forth, debating on his next move. He didn’t truly know why he had come here in the first place.
He nodded again, accepting your offer.
You smiled at him; he noticed the way your eyes sparkled from the overhead light. You walked him over to the bathroom, showing him where everything was.
“Take as long as you need” you said quietly. He turned back towards you, looming over you and yet you knew he was no threat.
He shut the door behind him, leaving you out in the hall. He could not understand what was happening; all these memories were coming back to haunt him. For now, he at least knew that he could trust you. That you would not hurt him. He would hold onto that thought, and get through the night.
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igbylicious · 4 months
Text
knockout [woosan x reader]
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pairing: woosan x f reader
rating: 18+
genre: smut, boxer au, friends with benefits
summary: Wooyoung invites you over to play after San wins his latest match.
wc: 3.9k
warnings: boxer San, manager Wooyoung, threesome, consensual somnophilia (San is the one asleep), blow job, hand job, spit kink, face-sitting, cunnilingus, face-fucking, choking on cock, cumplay (eating and sharing), dirty talk, San has bruises, they use the pet names ‘baby’ and ‘good girl’ for you but no pronouns, established Woosan, San is whiny while he sleeps but gets cocky when awake, Wooyoung is a mischievous lil’ shit (affectionate) the whole way through
a/n: my first ateez fic! please consider a like/reblog if you like it (❁´◡`❁)
-☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧-
Your phone buzzes late at night, and you already know who it is before looking. You tear yourself away from the TV and check your messages, where you find a selfie from Wooyoung.
His hair is getting longer, pushed back with sunglasses resting on top of his head. (Even though it’s already dark out. Poser.) He wears a black-and-white shirt with a busy pattern and just one button too many undone, a heavy silver necklace around his neck. But all of that is just a sideshow to the main point of the selfie; Wooyoung is winking cheekily at the camera, holding up a big wad of cash. San won the match.
does this mean takeout is on you guys next time? you text him. After a brief pause you add, also congratulations i guess
(But the dismissive tone is just for show, riling each other up a natural part of your relationship with Wooyoung. You’re smiling as you press send, knowing how much a win means to him and San, how hard they work for it.)
Your phone buzzes again. you should come over
for takeout?
idk about takeout but there’s definitely a meal in it for you 😏😜😘🍆💦
You can’t decide whether to grin or roll your eyes at the message and its string of emojis at the end, but you do send Wooyoung an affirmative text back. Your face decides on a grin as you put your phone down, a spark of excitement coursing through you. Guess you’re going out tonight after all.
This thing between you and San and Wooyoung has been going on long enough that usually you don’t even bother dressing up for them anymore, but hey, it’s a special occasion, right? So you slip on some lacy underwear and wiggle into a cute dress, and do a quick check in the mirror to make sure you’re looking at least halfway decent. (Not too much fuss. Wooyoung did text you in the middle of the night.)
Just before you go, your phone buzzes one last time; Wooyoung warns you to send a text once you get to the apartment, not ring the door. At first you do not give it too much thought; they do live in a crappy old place, might just be that the doorbell is broken.
But then the added photo loads, and you see San is conked out on the couch, sitting with spread legs and his head lolled back, mouth slightly hanging open. Apparently he hasn’t even changed clothes since the match, wearing a dirty white tank top and a smattering of bruises across his tanned skin. His dark hair is a mess, pretty lips set in a natural pout while he sleeps.
Immediately, a fresh buzz of excitement surges through you. There is a whole new layer of thrill to this invitation now.
After driving over, you send Wooyoung a text that you’ve arrived. He opens the door for you with a bright grin, and puts a quick finger to his lips to indicate you have to be quiet. His sunglasses have disappeared somewhere between making a selfie and your arrival, saving him a roasting from you. He gives your dress an appreciative once-over, and casually kisses your cheek as he lets you in, resting his hand on the small of your back. His good mood is incredibly obvious, fingers brushing against the top of your ass.
You slip off your shoes and step further into the apartment. The place is a bit messy as always, furnished with a combo of thrift-shop finds, stuff they won off bets, and random things donated by friends. (Even their old van is a hand-me-down, though you have no idea where they got it from.)
The result is a home that’s chaotic, but friendly. Shelves piled with keepsakes, stories attached to everything they own. And for all the messiness, at least they do keep it somewhat clean.
There is a desk in the corner, with a few neat piles of paper money on top. Clearly Wooyoung was in the middle of counting — and accounting, his books laying open with a pen next to them. Despite all his antics, Wooyoung is actually pretty responsible with money. He knows that he needs to be, never sure when they’ll get their next win. (You suspect they run a few less-than-legal stints on the side, but neither seems too keen on making that their main gig.)
And then there is San, sitting on their old couch. Still fast asleep.
“Look how tired,” Wooyoung murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear. “He worked so hard today, I thought we should reward him. How about it, hm? Don’t you think he deserves a prize for taking home the victory?”
You lick your lips, a sharp craving growing in the pit of your stomach at the sight of San’s soft, sleeping face. As far as you are concerned, you are the one getting a prize here. It’s been a long time since you last had the chance to indulge in this particular kink; it can be tricky to coordinate when you don’t actually live in the same house.
And San makes such pretty noises when he’s asleep.
Wooyoung grins at the expression on your face. “Good girl,” he whispers indulgently, pressing one last kiss on your cheek before he playfully slaps your ass, pushing you towards the couch.
You glare back at him, even if the slap sent a crackle of pleasure through you. Just out of principle, to let Wooyoung know he can’t get away with everything. (He can absolutely get away with everything.)
But then you shift your focus to San, getting on your knees in front of him as quietly as possible. He usually is a deep sleeper but still, you are not about to risk waking him too early. You do take a moment to just look at him; to take in the way his broad chest moves with slow, even breaths.
The hard, battered muscles of his body are completely relaxed now, arms laying uselessly on the couch. There are marks on his knuckles, and it’s odd to think he was using those same fists to beat someone up, all for a cash prize, just a mere few hours ago. He looks so soft now. Not for the first time, you marvel at how handsome he is, the sharp cut of his jawline, pronounced cheekbones and pouty lips. So damn gorgeous, even with bruises marring his face, a particularly nasty one on the corner of his mouth. You want to kiss it, but you tuck that thought away for later.
San’s legs are already conveniently spread for you to shuffle close; could be a happy coincidence, could be that San was expecting this. Expecting you.
(This was a conversation you had long ago, where he’d given you a free pass to ‘wake’ him if an opportunity presented itself. It is entirely possible that he and Wooyoung discussed this before contacting you, and something about the idea of San falling asleep while thinking of your mouth on his dick makes you squirm in the best way.)
You press a hand against the front of his sweats, feeling the outline of his cock. You squeeze it with a light touch, give the impressive length a gentle stroke, and delight at the little “Hmm” that San sighs out.
Encouraged by the sound, you pull down the waistband of San’s sweats just enough so you can take his cock out, heavy in your hand. Still soft, though he gives a beautiful twitch when your thumb runs across a vein across the underside.
Your eyes glance up when Wooyoung sits down, just as carefully as you had been. He is slouched next to San with an arm slung across the back of the couch, fingers ghosting against San’s hair but never touching, while he raises his other hand to bite at his thumb. Uncharacteristically quiet, watching with rapt attention.
Heat pools between your thighs, you love being on display for him, teasing a sleeping San. You’re keenly aware of how your dress has ridden up, your ass sticking out, your neckline low enough for an ample view of your cleavage — though you’re sure it’s your hand that has Wooyoung’s full attention right now, wrapped around his lover’s slowly hardening dick.
You gather saliva in your mouth, then let it dribble down on your fingers and San’s cock. He moans, shifting slightly, lips parting a little wider as you take advantage of the easier slide of your palm. The sound goes right to your core; San’s moans are just a bit shallower when he is asleep, a bit more high-pitched. More needy.
More noises start to slip from his lips as you slowly stroke the length of his thick cock, thumb playing against his slit. Sometimes his hips shift to follow your movement, but he does not wake, his conscious mind unaware of your fist working him to full hardness.
San is getting beautifully flushed, a redness blooming across his cheeks and neck as he lets out a faint whimper, brow furrowed. It is always a fun game, to see how far you can take him before he wakes up — before you are treated to that toe-curling moment of aroused disorientation on San’s face, that split-second where he can’t quite figure out why he is so fucking horny until he sees you, nested between his thighs, and a sleepy yet cocky grin breaks out on his face.
But it’s not come so far yet; San is still under the hold of his tired slumber. His breath hitches as your fist twists around the head of his cock, almost like a little hiccup, precum mingling with your spit. You know you can’t hold off your impatience for much longer.
Wooyoung is still staring, though his eyes wander between San’s cock and the wiggle of your ass, his cheeky tongue dipping out to wet his lips. His gaze is heated, intense, and the slight asymmetry of his eyelids makes his stare only more attractive and striking, dotted by the little mole under his eye. He worries his bottom lip with his teeth as he watches, but grins when he catches you watching him in turn. He leans forward, elbow on his knees, and beckons for you to offer your hand.
You do so, and watch how Wooyoung decadently works his mouth and lets a thick globule of spit fall past his lips, onto your waiting palm. His grin widens when you moan weakly as his saliva mingles with yours, with San’s precum, and generously gives you more until your hand is messy and slick. Finally satisfied, Wooyoung leans back with a flirty wink.
You make good use of Wooyoung’s ‘contribution’, pumping San just a little faster now. His noises start to pick up, face contorted with unaware pleasure as a small trail of drool escapes the corner of his mouth. It won’t be long now before he wakes. Honestly, you are surprised it has lasted this long at all; San’s fight must have been particularly strenuous tonight.
Just when you contemplate whether it’s time to get your tongue involved, Wooyoung suddenly gets up from the couch.
You try not to get distracted by him moving around behind you, keeping your focus on San, but then you feel a little tap against your ass. You turn your head to see him lying on his back, head between your feet with a shit-eating grin on his face.
Lift your ass up, he mouths and gestures simultaneously.
You do exactly that, allowing Wooyoung to slide under you with his hands on your waist, his face right underneath the flimsy scrap of lace that covers your dripping core, barely worth the name ‘underwear’. “Seriously?” you whisper, though even just the sight of him, raised eyebrow and ready to eat you out, has more arousal leaking into your thong.
“Hey, San isn’t the only one who worked hard for this match,” Wooyoung whispers quietly, wetting his lips. “Don’t I deserve a reward, too?”
Well… If Wooyoung’s idea of a reward is to have you ride his face, then who are you to deny him? You really keep getting the better deal out of their hard-earned victory. Still, you roll your eyes at him, just to let him know how ridiculous you think he’s being, though the increasingly damp spot on your underwear tells Wooyoung all he needs to know.
He lets out a pleased, dark chuckle as you lower yourself down, his hands gripping tighter onto your waist as he positions you for the best angle. He does not even bother to pull the scrap of lace aside, happily eating you out through it.
San whines when your fingers squeeze around him, liquid oozing from the tip, his hips stuttering lightly before he settles back down. His cock is flushed dark, pulsing in your hand, but it is hard to focus on him right now. A lazy hand continues to stroke him while you struggle to focus on anything but Wooyoung’s muffled moans against your sopping heat.
You bite your lip to keep silent, hips moving on their own accord as Wooyoung’s nose presses against your clit, his mouth undeterred by the obstruction of lace as he makes a sloppy mess of your cunt, eagerly lapping away.
Wooyoung is rarely this quiet, but today he foregoes his usual dirty talk and running commentary to direct his full attention on reducing you to a mindless mess. He is a fiend with his mouth either way, thick swipes of his tongue and grazing teeth, mouth suckling at you through the now-ruined lace.
It takes all your self-control to stay on task, to not get distracted by the sound of a zipper, and soon after the wet noise of Wooyoung jerking himself off, still moaning against your leaking cunt. You shake yourself out of it, wrapping your lips around just the head of San’s cock, licking at the steady stream of precum while you use both hands to work his length. He twitches in your mouth, and for a moment you wonder if he’s going to cum without even waking up at all.
But then Wooyoung uses his nose to nudge your thong aside and sucks directly at your clit, and you moan loudly around San’s cock at the sudden stimuli.
San starts awake at the vibration, his hips reflexively jerking forward. You happily meet his thrust to gag on him, making San hiss a throttled curse. “F-fuck, what’s-ahhh—”
His hand flies to your hair, instinctively holding you in place. Your eyes tear up as he hits the back of your throat and stays there, but you can still glance upward to look at him — and he’s a fucking sight to behold. Bleary-eyed and disoriented, his mouth slack and panting hard for breath as he tries to get his bearings. Eyes landing on you, his cock twitching as understanding dawns. The moment is every bit as beautiful as you had imagined.
“Look who it is, Sannie,” Wooyoung grins when he notices San is awake, taking a break from tongue-fucking you. “Came over just to congratulate you. Ain’t that sweet?”
“Fuck,” San chokes out, his voice gravelly from sleep. He hisses sharply when you hollow your cheeks and give a light suck, drawing a low groan. Slowly, the sleep retreats from his eyes and is replaced by a dark alertness, though his face is still flushed, his body tired.
Lazily, he lets you continue doing what you do, only stroking your hair in encouragement as he releases you, letting you return to shallower bobs of your head. “Fuck, baby, just like that,” he groans, biting his lip. Once again, your attention is drawn to the bruise on the corner of his mouth, aching to be kissed — but your own mouth is preoccupied. Later, you promise yourself. There will be time for that later.
As expected, San’s moans are a little deeper now he is awake, slowly rocking his hips as he watches you take him further with every pass of your mouth. You wonder if he’s even aware of the difference in his sounds, or if that’s just a little secret for you and Wooyoung to know.
Speaking of Wooyoung — now that he doesn’t have to keep quiet for San, he gets talkative again. “Use me, baby,” he groans, his fingers digging into your ass. “Come on, ride me a little harder. Don’t be shy. Smear that wet pussy all over my face.”
You don’t need to be told twice, enthusiastically granting Wooyoung’s request. He moans happily as you fuck yourself on his tongue, any further words muffled between your thighs. You’d worry about whether Wooyoung can even breathe, except he has a death-grip on your hips and refuses to let you slow down. His nose repeatedly bumps into your clit, sending sparks through you every time, your moans reverberating around San.
San grunts at the feeling, voice husky and low. But as attractive as the sound is… some part of you wants to hear his whimper again. Just to see if you can make him do it.
Well. There are a few sure-fire ways you know to push San to the very limit and beyond — and one of them is immediately available to you.
He was already pushing deep inside your mouth, but you do your best to relax your throat and surge forward, your nose brushing his pelvis as you choke yourself on his cock, then pull back to do it again. And again. A lewd, wet gurgle filling the room every time, your throat constricting as you strain around his thick shaft, tears burning in your eyes.
San groans at your renewed efforts, a greed shining in his sharp eyes when he realises what you’re doing, what you are asking him to do. His fingers scrape your scalp as they embed tighter around the strands of hair. Recognising the unspoken invitation to fuck your mouth as hard as he wants.
“That’s it,” he growls, “you know how I like it. Choke on my cock, hm? I’ll stuff you until you can’t breathe.”
You can barely breathe already; it’s hard to pull in air through your nose like this, with San steadily rocking his hips forward. You go slack in his hold, just letting him use you to his liking, trying to curl your tongue around the underside of his cock in the way you know drives him up the wall.
Wooyoung makes a noise when you slump down on his face, and you try to catch yourself but he won’t have it, only sucking more eagerly onto your clit as he grabs onto your thighs to keep you in place. You moan loudly, and San curses in response, his breath getting pitchy.
It’s working, you realise. It’s not as much as when he is asleep, but slowly a whiny lilt creeps into San’s voice as he uses your throat, his face contorted with pained pleasure.
Your head starts to spin, the barrage of sensations threatening to overwhelm you. Slick sounds and deep moans, a heady scent of arousal permeating the air. San’s cock obstructing your breath, his little whines; Wooyoung’s tongue nimbly flicking against your clit, his hands squeezing at the soft meat of your thighs. You’re tilting, slowly but surely, right over the edge when Wooyoung sucks harshly, exactly when San whimpers.
It hits you like a freight train, the violent force of it enough to have you sobbing around San’s cock. You tremble and shake as electricity surges through you, only held up by San and Wooyoung’s hold on you.
Your garbled cries take San over the edge with you, though he still has enough restraint to pull back slightly, no longer nudging against your gag reflex. He shudders with a tight hiss, clumsy fingers catching in your hair as he spills hot seed inside your mouth.
You almost choke again; it’s messy, and there is a lot, leaving you to wonder if San has been abstaining before the match. Lately you certainly haven’t done more with them than casual texts or hangouts, but can make no assumptions about what he and Wooyoung get up to when you’re not around.
You try your best not to swallow it down — and not spill a single drop, either. At the latter, you don’t succeed entirely, a thin wet trail dribbling down your lips when San pulls out and slumps back onto the couch with a final, loud groan. But when Wooyoung gets out from underneath to sit next to you, and pushes a thumb on your bottom lip to show him, you can proudly stick out your tongue to him, sticky whiteness on display.
“Good girl,” Wooyoung purrs, fondly cupping your cheek. “Don’t even need me to tell you anymore, huh? So well-behaved for us.”
You moan contently at the praise, and again when Wooyoung eagerly puts his lips on you, sloppily lapping up San’s cum from your chin, your lips, until his tongue invades your mouth for a proper meal. You can taste yourself on him while Wooyoung tastes San, who is watching it all with a small, cocky grin, teeth flashing at you.
Wooyoung lets out a needy moan as he drinks deep, his tongue sliding against yours in a heady dance. He grabs for your hand, guiding you down to his still-hard cock, hot and weeping precum. Your fingers are still messy and slick, making it easy for you to jerk him off while he continues to hungrily kiss you, licking up every last drop he can reach.
It’s less of a challenge to make Wooyoung whimper, but the sound is no less exciting for it, his high-pitched moans like music to your ears. He cums messily in your hand, some spilling onto your dress. With a final bite to your bottom lip, he pulls away from your mouth, eyes heavy-lidded and looking thoroughly fucked out, lips swollen and shiny from the essences of both you and San. You grin at him, lifting your hand to suck his cum off your fingers.
Only then do you turn to San, who is indulging himself with slow strokes on his cock while he still watches you and Wooyoung intently.
“Congratulations on the match,” you say casually, cum-stained fingers lingering on your lips.
San’s grin returns to his face and he grabs your hand to pull you into his lap…where you finally get to kiss that bruise on the corner of his mouth. He winces as you press up to him, and you can hear Wooyoung grouse next to you.
“Be careful with him, alright? That’s my meal ticket you got there,” he complains, dusting himself off as he gets back on his feet.
But San wraps his arms around you, keeping you captive. “You don’t have to be that careful,” he murmurs against your mouth, his hands firmly planted on your ass as he grinds you against his crotch. The night is not over quite yet.
-☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧-
An indeterminate time and a thorough shower later, you are sitting snugly between San and Wooyoung on their shabby old couch. They graciously borrowed you some clothes, leaving you cosily wrapped in a pair of San’s sweats and one of Wooyoung’s oversized hoodies. In your hands you have freshly delivered takeout, enjoying a hot meal together with the guys.
Their treat, of course.
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parkerpeter24 · 10 months
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HIII i am begging can you write a Peter Parker x reader one shot where peter and reader are married and have a toddler and maybe the avengers team find out PLISSSS ANS TYYYY 🫶🫶🫶
baby 🥺
pairing ➳ peter parker x reader
requests are open (but i barely write stuff)
masterlist
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“what is he doing on the ceiling?!” kate yelled as soon as you entered the lobby, searching for your little toddler ben. you rubbed your eyes as you approached a very baffled kate, “your child is on the ceiling! how are you so calm?!”
“it’s 7 in the morning.” you winced as you looked at ben, him giving you an excited look and extended his arm towards you, making you do the same, “come on, benny, come to mama.”
and he did so as, un-sticking himself from the wall as he perfectly landed in your arms.
your two year old was way better at this than peter when he had started out as spider-man. his hand kept getting stuck to different places and after a bunch of ripped t-shirts and a couple of haircuts, you bought him rubber gloves. however, that didn’t work either.
as your little boy nestled against your chest, you looked over to kate who still had surprise written all over her face, “he’s spider-man’s child.” you explained simply.
“but- what if he fell down?”
“oh, he wouldn’t. he’s way too smart for that, aren’t you, benny?” you booped his nose and he gave you a grin.
“yes, mommy.”
you and peter had kept your relationship secret for a couple of years, at least from peter’s superhero gang. so it didn’t come off as a surprise when the avengers found out that you two had a one year old. they were very disappointed in you two for not telling this big a thing but the second they saw ben’s cute little face and his smile, you were forgiven and everyone was happy.
when you agreed to move into the avenger’s tower, tony was more than excited. he added a bunch of toys to the huge playroom that was originally built for morgan.
you were surprised to see that thor was the most attached to your baby. he spent time with him and thursdays were reserved to thor and ben taking a tour of the city. you trusted thor, however you had only allowed this after ben turned two, which was only a few weeks ago.
whenever natasha was around, she would tell ben all kinds of stories about how she kicked bad people’s butts so that little kids could sleep peacefully at night and ben would adore those “tales” even though they were real.
“next time you find him on a ceiling, just show him a cookie, he’ll come right down.” you told kate as you patted ben’s back, gently lulling him back to sleep.
“if you say so.” kate replied, chuckling as she watched you for a minute, “you should get some more sleep too, you look tired.”
“he refused to sleep last night because tony let him have extra ice-cream.” you rolled your eyes.
you noticed ben had fallen asleep, already drooling over the material of your t-shirt as you carried him back to his crib, placing him securely under his blanket before you made your way to your own bed. your husband, peter was still fast asleep. you laid down on the bed, peter already pulling you closer as if it was a reflex. you felt his arm relax against you, his head resting close to your shoulder and soon you felt the soft caress of sleep take over.
the bedside clock showed 10:34 as time when your eyes opened again. the room was empty, peter and ben both gone. you quickly freshened up before making your way out of the room and into the main gathering area once again.
only this time you were greeted with everyone sitting around and laughing as steve held his shield on his lap with ben sitting on top of it.
“hey, babe.” peter was the first one they greeted you as he placed a kiss on your cheek and dragged you in the middle of whatever was happening.
“uh, what’s happening?” you asked, looking around.
“your child is stuck to cap’s shield.” tony said, an almost proud smile spread over his face to which steve gave him a glare.
“guess who inspired it.” natasha rolled her eyes at her two friends, however a small smile remained on her face at the little banter going on.
just then kate ran into the room, holding a cookie in her hand as she handed it to steve, “got it!”
“come on, kid.” steve said, waving around the cookie in the air in front of him. ben’s eyes lit up and steve smiled, “it’s yours if you leave the shield.”
however, cap’s efforts failed as ben reached out one hand to grab the sweet but didn’t move a bit to release his shield.
“i bribed him good.” tony shrugged as he sipped on his black coffee.
you watched the whole scene unfold, amused to say the least. you noticed peter snickering as he stood beside you. you smacked his chest lightly, “you think this is funny? go get your child.”
“and forget the spider-bike mr stark promised me? never.”
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