#fic: pinch of sugar

[sailoryooons]

Dominus | Drabble | kth (m)

☾ Pairing: demon!Taehyung x unnamed f. character

☾ Summary: Taehyung is a demon that has needs. Some of those needs include feeding off of fear and fucking until he's numb. Thankfully, he knows how to do those things at the same time.

☾ Word Count:  2,628

☾ Genre: Smut, pwp, strangers to one-night stand

☾ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately. 

☾ Warnings: PLEASE TAKE THESE WARNINGS SERIOUSLY. THIS DRABBLE INCLUDES INCREDIBLY DARK THEMES SUCH AS: explicit language, manipulation, power dynamics, explicit sexual content including spit play, breath play (intense choking), mentions of getting off on fear, unprotected vaginal sex, pet names (Tae calls her kitten), honorifics (she calls him dominus which means master in this world), masturbation (female) voyeurism, rough sex, orgasm control, light mentions of blood, no after care, mentions of alcohol and drugs, trance like state post sex, Taehyung is a demon and he is REALLY terrible in this - please read this IF YOU ARE OKAY WITH THE WARNINGS.

☾ Published: September 4, 2022

☾ A/N: This is a side drabble to my series Carved. The series is incredibly dark. You do not need to read the series to read this drabble, but it would make a teeny bit more sense. Carved Tae seems to have a lot of stans (cough cough myself included) so I decided to write this to get myself out of my intense writers block.

☾ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

Masterlist | Ask | Carved Series 

Glittering lights make Taehyung dizzy. He stares at them, coalescing purples and blues and pinks. They flicker in the fog of the club - or maybe it's the smoke that Jimin is blowing in the air as he breathes out vampire, luscious lips pursed. The smoke smells like candied fruit, pleasant among the smell of sweating bodies pressed against one another. 

Taehyung sips the blue drink. He has no idea what it is but he looks up at the lights and they are alive. Fuck. Synth makes the alcohol so much better. He is buzzing, his arms like TV static and head cottony. 

As usual, they have a private booth. It’s just Taehyung and Jimin tonight. It’s not unlike Jungkook to turn them down for a night out, especially now that he has that Carved to worry about. 

Not for the first time, Taehyung feels a rush of anger that he purchased her for Jungkook. He should have just bought her for himself. He could think of several things that he could do with her.

Taehyung adjusts the body chain laying down his middle. It loops around his neck and his waist, made from demon stone and Parthos steel. Though it glitters prettier than any other metal in the world, it could cut through Vanir skin and decapitate a Vaesen if pulled tight around the neck. 

Tan skin peeks out from the collar of his low cut shirt. The ruffle of his jacket snakes up the right side of his neck, curling around the back like a serpent on his shoulder. He’s always had exquisit taste: clothes, food, art, Vanir slaves, drugs. 

Tonight is no different. 

Spreading his legs wide, Taehyung runs his tongue on his bottom lip, and drags his dark gaze from the lights flashing over the dancing bodies to the lone Valkyrie in front of him. She sits rod straight, her gold eyes cast down. Taehyung taps the edge of his glass with his nail, slowly evaluating her from head to toe. 

Caramel skin covered in some cosmetic glitter that makes her shimmer like the drugs Jimin snorted earlier. White, leather skirt that does nothing to hide her generous ass or her little pink panties underneath. Tan planes of stomach that Taehyung wants to sink his teeth in. White, leather bralette, breasts spilling out the top.

Mouth watering. 

The valkyrie is afraid. Her fingers twist in her lap and she chews the inside of her cheek. She uses her dark hair, silky and smelling like rose to hide her face as her male companion climbs into Jimin’s lap. 

Taehyung has no mind for Jimin as he shoves his tongue down the witch’s throat. He stands up, stretching his long limbs. The room tilts on its axis and he laughs, utterly delighted by how fucked up he feels. 

As carefully as possible, he collapses onto the booth next to the valkyrie. She flinches and he grins further, slouching in the seat next to her so that he has to look up at her through his lashes, eyes round. 

“Hi,” he offers. Up close she smells like roses and vanilla - and fear. “You smell divine.”

“Thank you, dominus.” Her voice is soft and accented.

Taehyung resists the urge to bite his fist. Up close, he can make out the freckles across her nose and cheeks. The longer he stares, the more they appear. They move, swirling on her skin like constellations. He is hypnotized, open-mouth staring at her as the freckles dance. 

He blinks and they return to normal, unmoving and simple. 

“Why so afraid?” he murmurs. Taehyung’s head leans, almost resting on her shoulder. She glances at him and he bats his eyelashes at her. “You don’t have to be afraid of me. I’m harmless.” 

“You are powerful, dominus. It is difficult to be in the presence of greatness.” 

Liar, Taehyung thinks. He smiles, pointed canines on full display. She chews her inner cheek again. Taehyung slowly brings a finger to her cheek, brushing her skin. It’s so warm he almost moans, his eyes fluttering at the touch of her. 

To his pleasant surprise, her eyes shutter and she leans towards him a bit. He bites his bottom lip, dragging his fingers across her cheekbone and down the slope of her soft jaw. 

“You shouldn’t bite the inside of your cheek,” he whispers. “Might hurt yourself, kitten.” 

“I’m sorry, dominus.”

“Hmm. Don’t be.” 

Taehyung spreads his legs and pats his thigh. She hesitates for a moment and he drags his fingers up his dark trousers slowly before patting his thigh again - much higher this time. The valkyrie moves slowly, bottom lip between her teeth as she shifts. She throws her leg over his waist, facing him without meeting his eyes. Her ass settles on his cock and his blood thrums. 

Cold hands skate up and down her arms as he seeks the warmth of her skin. Taehyung is cold by nature, craving that warm blood rushing through her body. Her face isn’t hidden behind a curtain of hair now. Her eyes are large and round, button nose small on her heart-shaped face. She is the perfect Vanir: soft, supple, pliant, thrumming with vitality. 

Burning gold eyes that belong to the race of the valkyrie look at him tentatively. Her heart rate skips as Taehyung’s fingers settle on the hem of her skirt, brushing back and forth on the curve of her ass cheeks. 

Taehyung’s eyes go to her collar. It’s pink, a tiny E resting on the hollow of her throat, glittering with diamonds. He lifts one hand, going to her neck to trace the leather. She closes her eyes and sways in his lap. Taehyung smirks. 

“What’s the E for, hmm?”

Dark music pulses from the first floor. It hums through the floor, through Taehyung’s feet and through his ribcage. It’s a pleasant vibration, mixed with the alcohol and demon dust Jimin offered him before coming to the club. 

“Eden, dominus,” she whispers. “I belong to the club, dominus.”

“Such a pretty little thing, what a waste to be in this club.” Taehyung pouts up at her. He splays his hand at the base of her neck. He’s transfixed for a moment. His hand is so large in comparison to her delicate, tender neck. It would take a simple squeeze to end it all. Her little life is nothing in his hands. 

Instead of choking her to death like he wants, Taehyung tilts his head to the side. “Have you been treated well?”

“Of course, dominus.”

He tsks. “Come on, kitten. Be honest with me. You’re so afraid, sitting here with us. I don’t want that for you. I want you to feel safe. Has someone made you feel unsafe here?”

The valkyrie’s eyes water. She looks down, chewing on her bottom lip as she worries at the hem of her skirt. Taehyung gently brushes his hand from her chest to her bottom lip, pulling it lightly with his thumb. She stops gnawing at the flesh, but the damage is done. Her lips are roses and thrumming with the blood from the pressure of her teeth. 

“Some are rough, dominus. But it’s okay, we deserve it.”

“Hmm. Such a shame, to be rough with you. Do you like it here?”

“It is fine, dominus.”

Taehyung hums again. “What would you say if I offered to buy you?” Her wide eyes fly up to meet Taehyung’s. He hears the way her breathing stops. Starts again. Stops. Starts again. Her heart patterns like the wings of his father’s hummingbirds. “Your face is a waste here. You could come home with me.” 

“I-I am not good enough for a lord, dominus.”

Taehyung’s hand on her face goes rigid, gripping her chin harshly as he forces her to look at him. Her fear spikes, sour scent making Taehyung salivate. “I’m not a lord, kitten.”

He relaxes. Takes a deep breath. Caresses her skin for a while to get her to calm down. She melts into him after a time. 

“I don’t deserve it, dominus.” She whispers. She tangles her fingers together. Taehyung watches her, gaze fiery. “I’m just a Vanir. It would be an honor to be a part of your home, dominus.”

“We’ll do it then.” She looks up at Taehyung sharply. “When I leave, you’ll go with me.”

“Truly, dominus?” 

Taehyung gives her a wolfish grin. “I promise.” 

Bathrooms at Eden are pristine on the upper level. Taehyung doesn’t bother to lock the door. The valkyrie is looking around the room, eyes round like a doe. Taehyung watches her. The pink lights of the bathroom make her look magenta, her skin shimmering as she marvels at the vines and roses climbing up gold, carved mirrors.

A waterfall trickles behind Taehyung, the water spelled to be shimmering gold as it falls from the eyes of a weeping angel, hands clasped up to the sky. Foliage and flowers cover the walls, making the bathroom smell like jasmine and honeysuckle. It smells almost as delicious as the valkyrie who leans against the skin and looks at Taehyung with desire.

She opens her legs slightly, hips tilted up so he can see her panties. He grins ferally at her - perfect. 

“I bet you have the prettiest pussy,” Taehyung purrs. “Hmmm? Will you let dominus see?”

Sucking her bottom lip in her mouth, she nods. Slowly, she traces her hand under her skirt, pushing up the hem. Taehyung leans against the wall, legs spread with his hand resting on his cock. He’s hungry - not for food, but for the Vanir in front of him.

She pulls aside the delicate lace underwear and Taehyung smirks as she spreads her legs a little more. “Like this, dominus?” 

“Get on the counter.” 

She scrambles to listen to him. On the counter, she spreads her legs wide for him. He is fixated as she pulls the panties to the side again, opening herself up to him. She’s wet and pink. Taehyung hums in approval. 

“Play with yourself for me, kitten. Get it nice and wet so I can fuck that little cunt of yours.” Her chest starts rising and falling as she looks at him. He smiles. “Then we can go home, yeah?”

The valkyrie nods. She obeys immediately, hand tracing up and down her glistening folds. Taehyung strides forward, watching as her movements stop. He grins and leans over her mound, spitting directly onto her cunt before walking backward and leaning against the wall again. 

“Continue,” he says.

She complies, spreading the spit around her clit in lazy circles. He tells her to trace her hole with delicate fingers - she does. He tells her to pinch her clit - she does. She follows his every command, absolutely flushed and read all over, sweat beading on her brow as he has her edge herself.

Finally, Taehyung pushes himself off the wall. His movement is so quick that she barely tracks it, dazed as she looks up at him. Taehyung lifts her off the counter and throws her on her stomach. She lets out a soft sound of surprise and a whine as her forehead smacks the mirror glass. He ignores it in favor of unzipping his hands, stroking his heavy cock in his hand.

The valkyrie watches in the mirror. Taehyung is transfixed by the way his cockhead splits her hole. He grins, prodding her with the tip as she moans and clenches before he sinks into her on the upstroke, throwing his head back and gasping. 

Taehyung draws pretty little sounds from her mouth as he fucks into her cunt. He knows if he looks down in the mirror, he’ll see her eyes rolling back in her head. Her screams are of pleasure and border on pain as he digs his nails into the flesh of her ass, drawing blood. 

But he’s not watching her. He watches himself, watches the flush on his neck and the way his hair sticks to his forehead as she bends her further into the counter. Watches the veins throb and the way shadows begin to twist around him as he splits the valkyrie open. 

Her pussy flutters around him and he realizes she’s going to orgasm. Taehyung grabs her by the hair, pulling her back as he growls into her hair. “Don’t you dare fucking cum.” 

She whimpers in response, but nods. 

With one hand holding her down to drill into her, Taehyung uses his free hand to lift the loop of chain around his neck up and over his head. She lifts her head for him, watching him in the mirror as he drapes it around her head. 

Taehyung gathers the chain in his fist, pulling gently at first, just cutting off a little bit of air. She moans and he wraps the chain tighter, gripping it as he fucks into her harder, her hips slamming agaisnt the bathroom counter. 

The valkyrie pants against the mirror. Breath mists the glassy surface, her spit smearing across it as Taehyung shifts so that he’s leaning over her, pulling up on the chain and cutting off her air supply completely.

Taehyung begins to count the strokes it takes for her to panic. Someone enters the bathroom - a shinigami woman who gives him a grin in the mirror as she drifts to a stall. Taehyung barely acknowledges her as he twists the chain a fraction harder. 

“Cum,” Taehyung barks at her. 

Underneath him, the valkyrie’s hands curl into fists. She clenches around him once - twice and convulses, cumming with a scream and her last breath. 

He doesn’t stop. Cum drips down her legs, he can see it dripping down the tan flesh. 

It takes almost two minutes for her to start gasping for air. She grips the counter, red in the face as she fucking takes it. Taehyung feels a sliver of appreciation - a Vanir who knows not to fight back. A Vanir who takes what her master gives her, who pants against the mirror and lets her eyes roll back into her head. 

Another thirty seconds goes by and her heart begins to give out. 

It’s all he needs. Taehyung cums with a growl, letting go of the chain. The valkyrie gasps for air, sagging underneath Taehyung as he falls on top of her, crushing her into the sink.

For a few moments, Taehyung feels like he’s floating. There’s a buzz in his veins and his mind is somewhere else where it’s fuzzy and electric. The valkyrie doesn’t move under him, but he can feel her panting, struggling to catch her breath. She is still shaken from the choking and he grins, laughing as he finally pulls himself off of her.

The valkyrie melts to the floor like a puddle. She sags, still breathing heavily as she looks up at Taehyung. There are stars in her eyes as she watches himself tuck his cock into his pants. She smiles at him, dazed and delighted. There is spit all over her face, makeup running. A soft bruise has formed where she hit her head on the mirror. 

Rolling his shoulders, Taehyung heads to the door. 

“Dominus?” her voice is small behind him. He doesn’t even glance at her as he opens the door and lets himself out, leaving her dripping and disheveled. “Dominus wait!” 

Taehyung doesn’t wait. He walks back out into the cool interior of the club, the music swelling around him again. He stops by his booth - Jimin is gone. Taehyung doesn’t care. He knocks back one of the glasses full of blue liquid and snaps his fingers toward an attendant who shows him a bill. He doesn’t look at it - just flourishes the pen and heads toward the stairs.

As he passes the bathroom, he hears the valkyrie sobbing. 

Taehyung grins. 

#kim taehyung #taehyung smut #kim taehyung smut #reader x taehyung #bts v #v smut #tae x reader #taehyung fanfic #kth fanfic #kth smut #kth x reader #idol!au #bts smut #bts fanfic #minors dni #minors do not interact #haliiimede writes #bangtan boys #fic: pinch of sugar #tw abuse #tw dark fic #tw dark themes

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。i know you still think about the times we had

synopsis. satoru will always comes when you call him, he just never thought you’d stop calling

— word count. 5.2k (where did i go wrong)

— contents. college au, rich boy! gojo, break ups and make ups <3, it’s the cliche trope where the rich guy’s parent forces you to leave him aka gojo’s father is the villain, angst with a happy ending—i don’t want my cause of death to be angry rb! gojo stans, emo gojo ft. marvin’s room (iykyk), cliche rain scene—this fic is so cliche i’m sorry, reader is gn! but gojo is mentioned to like pics of girls on instagram (he was being petty)

— notes. well, it finally happened. the long awaited break up. this one’s for you niku 🤞🏽 AND DABITEE ANON

you open the door when satoru knocks—just barely, though. it’s just enough to hand him the bag with the remaining things he’s left at your apartment. it feels familiar, being here, but it feels so different too. it’s always been happy knocking on your door—he never thought he’d dread letting his knuckles meet the cool wood. it’s like taking the last bite of something sweet when you’re too full. when the sugar is too decadent on your tongue and your head spins and your stomach twists and it’s too much even though it used to be so good.

it’s too much being here. it’s too much trying to meet your gaze and get nothing in return. it’s too much being handed back that sweater he basically let you keep. and yet, it’s good to see you. he wants nothing more than to be here with you, wherever you are, even if you don’t want him to stay.

“that should be everything,” you murmur, still looking down. “let me know if there’s anything missing.”

satoru would never tell you if there’s something missing. he’d never come back and demand back something he gave you, he doesn’t think he could ever take back something he gave you—being handed back his heart after pressing it to your palms is hard enough. but then again, maybe he should look for small things you probably missed. just so he can come back. just so he can see you—how else will he see you now?

“no, it’s alright,” he says quietly. he doesn’t miss the way you quickly let go as soon as his hands grab the bag, almost like you’re being careful enough not to let your fingers meet each other. “you can uh…you can just keep them. or…throw them out if you don’t want them,” he mumbles.

you nod, standing there silently. it’s quiet, and then it’s quiet some more. and finally, you look up at him for the first time since he got here, staring at him a little expectantly. oh, right. now would be the part where he leaves.

“can i…can i just know why?” he croaks. fuck. he’s not supposed to cry. you ripped his heart out and threw it at his feet, you didn’t even care to hand it to him even after you tore every artery apart. but he sniffles anyway, lips wobbling as he stares at you. “why are you leaving me?”

your fingers twitch, like you itch to reach over and wipe that tear that rolls down his cheek. in the end, you cross your arms instead. “i already told you, satoru—”

“that’s bullshit,” he clicks his teeth, shaking his head as he stares at you frustratedly, “you gave me some bullshit reason.”

satoru has worked so hard to be here—to be with you. hadn’t he done enough? hadn’t he told you about himself, things he didn’t want to? hadn’t he tried to become something, someone more than just a guy swimming in trust funds? hadn’t he worked for your attention, waited outside classes and walked opposite directions in the hall with you just to seem dedicated? fuck, he even burned his hand trying to learn how to make pancakes to impress you, let the maids laugh at him as he twisted the stove the wrong way to try and turn it on. 

why wasn’t it enough? what more could he give you than everything? how can the guy who has everything not have enough to give? he doesn’t understand.

“satoru, we weren’t gonna work,” you pinch your nose—it’s like you’re the one who doesn’t understand why he’s being like this. “the sooner you accept that the more hurt you’re saving the both of us—”

“we were working just fine,” he says exasperatedly. it’s like you insist he’s crazy when he’s nothing but sane. like he’s trying to tell you the sky is blue, and you’re refusing to believe it’s anything other than green. it’s clear. it’s practically a fact. you were doing just fine—why don’t you see that? “we were happy,” he takes a step forward and cups your cheeks, pressing his forehead to yours, “was it someone? did they tell you something? just tell me who, baby—i’ll fix it. i’ll put them in their place, okay? no one can bother you if i get them to leave you alone—”

“then you leave me alone,” you whisper. he stills. you pull away from his hands. “sator—gojo. please just leave me alone. it’s better that way.”

you close the door, and he stands there. numb. maybe a little shocked. entirely ruined.

gojo. he laughs quietly after a moment at that—it’s a laugh meant for men who’ve lost the last thread to sanity. gojo. it’s like a slap in the face, being called the name he worked so hard to get you to drop. it took him weeks—months, even, to convince you to call him satoru. then he upgraded to toru. then it was baby. sometimes you teased him and called him pumpkin—he called you peaches in return. when you introduced him, you called him your boyfriend. 

not anymore. now he’s back to gojo—that god-forsaken name with everything but what he really wants attached to it. his grandfather’s legacy. his future. business deals. fancy invites. more money than he knows what to do with. the name gojo comes with everything but you.

but he had you for a bit, didn’t he? when he was just satoru—but now he’s gojo again, and you’re gone. the only sign of you left is in the faint traces of your perfume in the sweaters you’ve returned. 

and satoru still isn’t sure what brought the break up on. he thinks it’s the part that stings the most—when everything seems perfect one second, and then it’s not. had he not tried enough? maybe he was too much. maybe he didn’t understand you the way you needed him to. maybe he was too overbearing. maybe he asked for too much too fast. 

he’s not sure. he tried asking when you broke it off—you only shook your head and said it wasn’t going to work out between the two of you, that it was a mistake to try at all. mistake? how could you call this a mistake? things were so perfect, weren’t they?

satoru doesn’t think there was even one second he wasn’t smiling when he was with you, and he used to think the same was true for you too. had you been faking it this long? or was it real at one point—had he really failed you so badly, seen past you so blindly that he didn’t notice when your smiles stopped reaching your eyes?

it’s too late, he figures. you and satoru are broken up. 

you ask him to come over one morning, and he does—because he always comes when you call. he brings your coffee order from that cafe you like, the one you don’t go to often because the coffee is more overpriced than any other coffee shop you’ve ever seen. he’s grinning when you open the door, leans in to kiss your lips excitedly. you turn your head then, and his lips meet your cheeks instead—he supposes he should’ve known it at that moment. he should’ve seen that your lips weren’t smiling. your eyes were tired, a little red. you were hugging yourself in that way you do when you’re nervous. you didn’t let him kiss your lips, you made him kiss your cheek. 

and then you sat him down on that worn-down couch of yours, took off that bracelet his mother gave him to gift you on your anniversary, and pressed it to his palm as you said we should break up. break up. you wanted to leave him—and satoru didn’t understand, still doesn’t understand. 

he’s tried for so long, replayed the last month of your relationship in his head over and over and fucking over. you always smiled. you kissed him first. you held his hand, and even squeezed. you asked to see him. you laughed when he was around. you said i love you. you were happy. but then you weren’t—when did you stop being happy? and how could you have stopped feeling it with him?

—————

breaking up with satoru is the hardest thing you’ve ever done. how long can people live without the sun? you think not longer than a few minutes—that’s what it feels like without satoru’s warmth, anyway. 

gojo satoru has always smiled as long as he’s been with you. he smiled smugly on your first meet, smiled bitterly after every rejection, smiled in pure glee when you finally said yes, and smiled like his fingertips could touch the sky every time he saw you after that. 

satoru has never looked sad for long in your presence—you have that effect on him, you make his lips curl and his eyes brighten in that way that they deserve to shine. but for the first time ever, his eyes dim with you around, his lips curl into a frown at your words, and he cries for you. his eyes glisten with tears instead of wonder, and you think for a moment that you might be making a mistake. 

but then you remember that this is for the best—that if you really love gojo satoru, you’ll let him go instead of clipping his wings.

“he’s picked up his things,” you speak quietly into the phone. you don’t sniffle even as you desperately need to—it’s the last bit of control you have left, and you intend to keep it. “i won’t be seeing him again.”

“good,” his father speaks, “that’s good to hear.” 

satoru’s father is a cold man, you learn that on the first meet. he doesn’t look at his wife with a soft look that tells you there’s any love built between the decades of marriage, and he doesn’t look at his only son with any affection for the boy he raised. instead, he stares at satoru like any businessman would an opportunity—with a calculating gaze that tries to work out the best course of action for the most profit. 

satoru is young, but he’s charming and conniving and knows how to get what he wants when he wants—he’s quick on his feet and rarely lets himself get cornered into a wall. in the last three generations of the family business, no heir has shown as much promise as gojo satoru. that’s what his father tells you, anyway. you believe him—satoru is smart and knows how to play his cards right, you won’t deny that. his future is set to be comfortable, and he’s never known anything outside of that, never built any other plans for himself. 

you can’t rip that away from him—not for your own sake, not for your own happiness. 

“you promised you wouldn’t freeze his trust funds once i ended things,” you remind him, “and that he’d keep his inheritance.” somehow, because the world grants you this one favor, your voice doesn’t shake—it’s steady and firm as it reminds the stone-cold man at the end of the line of your agreement—and he offers a slow chuckle that makes your jaw clench. 

“yes, i do recall,” he hums, “i’m glad we could come to agree. you understand, don’t you? it is my job as his father to do what’s best for him.”

you know what he’s saying—what that means. you’re not what’s best for him. maybe he’s right—maybe satoru needs someone who’s equally as promising to build a successful company into even more success. maybe he needs someone who can take him out for a change to those fancy places he takes you every few weeks. maybe he needs someone who’s heard of half the brands he wears and doesn’t scold him to turn the lights off so the electricity bill isn’t high. maybe he needs someone who can keep up with everything that gojo satoru is—and that someone is not you, no matter how deeply you love him. 

“—the offer still stands, should you change your mind. i’m willing to compensate you for the trouble this must all be.” 

your lips curl into a scowl at his words. that’s the thing about rich people, you think—money is always enough to sugarcoat everything. why worry about the dead grass in your lawn when you can paint it green? but you don’t leave satoru for extra cash on your hands—nothing can be worth auctioning off the only man who’s ever made you feel anything. you leave satoru because he deserves to continue living comfortably, to make a name for himself that isn’t just a ghost of his father’s. if that means being cut from the corner of the picture, you’re willing to pick up the scissors yourself. 

“no thanks,” you hiss, “i don’t need the money.”

“i would disagree,” his father sneers, “but suit yourself.”

the line ends, and for good this time, satoru is no longer yours. was he ever to begin with? 

—————

you try to forget your ex-boyfriend—keyword, try. every hour of your life consists of you using your burner account to refresh his instagram page to see if he’s posted anything new. you unfollow satoru from every social media platform the same day he picks up his belongings—you know he’s noticed within the first thirty minutes because all of his pictures with you are gone, just like all your pictures with him. 

in what you assume is an attempt to be petty, he likes every picture of every girl he sees, and he even blocks you on twitter—you know he picks twitter because twitter is the only social media that blatantly states you’re blocked. but then you’re unblocked in two days, and you know he must be missing you now that the initial anger is faded. 

it makes you laugh a little, even through your tears. satoru is not satoru without petty fits of emotion, and you can’t bring yourself to be mad, not when it’s your fault he’s hurting like this. he’s extra sad today, you gather—if the way marvin’s room is posted to his instagram story on a blank screen is of any hint. it makes you scoff in amusement that in true gojo satoru fashion, he’s effectively told all eight-thousand-something of his followers he’s pathetically in his feelings. 

you scroll through suguru’s story, too—he didn’t unfollow you even after satoru temporarily blocked you, but you figure suguru is the only person satoru really has. you shouldn’t keep yourself close to him, not when it could hurt satoru more, so you remove him too. 

suguru is, as always, drinking at some fancy party with obnoxiously rich college students who have not a care in the world for midterms around the corner. who needs to pass when you’re swimming in money whether or not you have a degree? the first thing you learn about the rich is that most of them are only at college for the experience—they don’t see college as the stepping stone to better opportunities, there’s nothing education could offer that trust funds already don’t. but satoru attends college for himself—he enjoys business classes, you learn, and especially finance ones. for someone who spends money so carelessly, he understands it particularly well. 

there’s no sign of satoru at whatever party it is suguru is at, there’s no trace of strikingly bright white strands anywhere in any corners—you do see naoya in a corner, though, and you crinkle your nose in distaste. if satoru were here, he’d say something bitterly under his breath about the asshole, and you would giggle. but satoru is not here, and even naoya the women-hating jackass makes you miss your obnoxiously whiny ex-boyfriend. 

everything reminds you of satoru. that bear he won you at the fair (after maybe six tries) by your pillows, those polaroids at your desk that you can’t bring yourself to take down, that sticky note on your fridge he left promising to replace the creamer he finished (he’s replaced it more times than he’s needed to by now), that extra big blanket you keep on the couch because the old one barely covered his legs, that pair of silly matching mugs you both had for coffee in the mornings. 

every corner of your apartment has something that reminds you that satoru was here, that he was yours, that for a short while, he was the best thing you ever had. it’s your fault, you think—that satoru and you are here in this mess in the first place. he’s always looked at life through a hopeful lens. having everything does that to you, makes you ignorant to the misfortunes of the world, makes you think everything is within the realm of your reach. you, on the other hand, knew this was bound to happen. the two of you together is like hot oil and cool water—what feels like sparks is just the oil shooting out to burn you. you should’ve known this would have never lasted. 

in a way, you think you did. it’s why you hated him so fiercely at first—maybe deep down, you always knew you wanted him, that he would never be yours. maybe that’s why you were so adamant about rejecting him, that even when he was clearly trying, it would never be enough. satoru has always been enough, has always been what everyone has wanted—you’re not so sure you can say the same for yourself. 

you love gojo satoru. he loves you too—he falls first, and you think maybe, he might have fallen harder too. no one loves like satoru. they say if you press coal hard enough, it turns to diamonds—you think if you gave satoru coal, he would hand you back the sun and all of her stars. it’s just the kind of guy he is, the one that turns everything dull into something bright and warm and worth it. you wish you didn’t have to break his heart, you wish you could’ve walked out of this the only one hurt. but maybe, at the very least, if you break him good enough that he hates you, he’ll move on quicker, maybe have something to look forward to while you continue to work your way up and cheer him on. 

before you can refresh suguru’s page one more time to stalk his story, you’re pulled from your thoughts as someone knocks on your door—correction: pounds on your door. you jolt on your couch, standing up and making your way to the front door quickly and looking through the peephole. 

satoru. of course.

he’s soaked to the bone—it’s raining outside, and of course, just as on brand as always, he must’ve rushed here without an umbrella.

you shouldn’t open it.

but you can’t just leave him in the rain, can you? but he’s not your problem anymore, you agreed to leave him, didn’t you? but how could he not be your problem when he’s all you think about? but this could cause him trouble if his father found out he was here, right? but can you really leave someone, ex-boyfriend or not, in the pouring rain? you can’t be that cruel can you?

before you can make up your mind, he speaks up, “i know you’re standing there. open the door,” he demands. 

“satoru, go home,” you sigh, head pressing against the surface that separates you, “don’t make this anymore difficult than it has to be.”

“if it’s difficult, that means you don’t really want to do this,” he argues. he’s still as good as ever at sweet talk, still as persistent and charming as ever at getting what he wants. “please,” he croaks, “just let me in.”

you know it means more than one thing. you know it means more than just your home. but you shouldn’t, you can’t let him know why you did all this—how can you protect someone from something if they don’t let you? satoru would never let you if he knew, and that’s why you can’t let him know. 

“satoru, if you don’t leave…i’ll…i’ll call the cops,” you warn. 

“no you won’t,” he says instantly. “i’m not leaving until you open the door. and if i get sick, i’ll send you my bill for the emergency room visit.”

“you’re not going to the emergency room for a common cold, you idiot,” you scoff. 

the rain doesn’t slow—in fact, you can hear thunder. satoru is still stubbornly outside, knocking away. 

“i’ll start screaming,” he insists, “your neighbors will complain for noise again. do you want to be kicked out of this apartment? just let your cold, wet, heartbroken ex-boyfriend in if you have a heart.”

and because you are, and always will be, weak to the charms of gojo satoru, you open that damned door—even though you shouldn’t, even though you can’t, even though you said you would never again. but you do. because it’s satoru, and he always comes when you call, and you’ll always let him in when he’s here. 

“you don’t come to your ex’s house less than one week after the break up,” you sigh once you open the door. he takes a step in, shutting the door behind him. 

“why did you leave me?” he asks. 

“satoru, you can’t keep bringing this up—”

“why? just tell me why.”

“i don’t have to—”

“tell me why and i’ll stop bothering you. i just need to know why,” he insists. 

and then you break.

you’re only human. you’ve lost the man you’ve given everything to for over a year in the span of one week. you’ll never see his lovely mother again who spoiled you rotten, you’ll never hang out out with his funny best friend who treats you like family, and you’ll never be enough for gojo satoru, the rich, loud, sheltered, obnoxious, handsome jackass you met and had to do a project with and accidentally fucked over and over again until you fell in love. 

so you shove his chest, once, then twice, then a third time, each time getting weaker and weaker than the last as tears slip down your cheeks as you simply break down. “just leave, satoru,” you sob, “why can’t you just leave? why do you keep coming back?”

you hate seeing him here. you want him gone. you never want to see him again. you hope he never leaves. you’re glad to see him. you hope this isn’t the last time. you hate that he seems to not be getting enough sleep. his eyes are hollow. he must not be eating properly. he probably hasn’t attended class. he has a quiz next week. he most likely forgot about that. his clothes are wrinkly. he definitely hasn’t showered in days. 

“last month you said i was it for you,” he glares at you, his eyes red and swollen and every shade of heartbreak. you miss when they were blue—that beautiful, bright, perfect shade of blue. “last week you said we were a mistake. what the fuck do you mean, huh? what are you playing at?”

“you can realize a lot in a month—”

“not enough to erase over a year,” his voice booms. it makes you flinch and hug yourself tightly. tears slide down your cheeks, your vision is blurry. this might be the last time you see satoru, and even if he’s angry, you want to remember the curves of his features. so you wipe them away. they keep coming back. “so tell me,” he clenches his jaw, “did you string me along for a year or did something happen last week that you’re not telling me?”

“i realized you were bad for me,” you say quietly. 

satoru stares at you. it’s a piercing gaze—his eyes are electrically blue and his lashes are unfairly long and every time he stares at you, you think he almost sees into your soul. they’re tired—there are purplish bags under them on that pale skin of his, and the whites of his eyes are concerningly bloodshot. he stares, and stares, and for a second, you think you’ll die like this. watching him stare at you as your heart bleeds out. 

“i spent weeks,” his voice shakes, “i waited outside your class. i followed you to the next one. i memorized your fucking schedule.”

“satoru, you need to leave—”

“and then you fucked me and left every morning like i was nothing,” he glares, sniffling. you don’t know where the rain drops on his face start and where the teardrops end. “and then i begged you for a chance—begged. i burned my hand, got laughed at by the maids to learn how to make those stupid fucking pancakes for you.”

“i didn’t ask you to—”

“it took you two months to call me baby for the first time. did you know that? i waited two months to hear that. i thought it was the best two months i ever waited.”

“satoru,” you plead. 

you’ve given up on trying to wipe away the tears—he’s given up on crying altogether. you’ve never seen him so hollow, so dead in the eyes and so, so tired.

satoru has never gotten tired—not when he’s fighting for you.

“and then you kept pushing me away, acting like i was some shallow guy who wanted to get in your pants and leave cause i had some money to my name. i took you everywhere, introduced you proudly, let everyone say what they wanted to say about me because i loved you, and…and i thought you loved me too,” he shakes his head. 

his voice breaks, and god, so does your heart right along with it.

“i do love you,” you admit it before you realize what you’re saying. 

“then why did you fucking leave me?” his voice is loud.

satoru never yells, not at you. his voice is always gentle, patient, like he worships the ground you walk on, like he’ll get on his knees if you ask him too. satoru never yells—but he does tonight. 

“because i had to,” you sob, fingers digging into your temples as you shake. the words spill from your lips faster than the tears, like a swarm of angry bees, one following after the other. “or you’d lose everything. the trust funds, the inheritance, the company. i couldn’t let that happen to you—not for me,” you whisper. 

it feels like defeat—in the end, you couldn’t keep satoru, and you couldn’t leave him either. you couldn’t love him like you wanted, and you couldn’t let him go like you should have. what else is there left to fuck up? what more can you ruin in less than a week? the bees feel like maggots in your mouth, swarming a dead carcass.  

“so you left me because my old man threatened you with my trust funds?” he asks in disbelief. you think something in satoru dies at that—something in his shoulders falls and his eyes almost seem gray. 

satoru gets his blue eyes from his mother—they’re bright and kind and deeper than the ocean. but unlike the ocean, they’re not scary to fall into, to lose yourself in no matter how far you are from shore. his father’s eyes are gray—cold and blank and not laced with a single hint of emotion. 

you can’t help but think that blue suits satoru so much better than gray ever could. 

“it wasn’t just that,” you shake your head, “that’s not fair, satoru. what was i supposed to do? know you were about to lose everything and stay?”

“you could have talked to me before you decided for me,” he hisses, “what do you want me to say? thank you? thank you for breaking my heart? thank you for making me feel like a worthless piece of shit who wasted a year for someone who didn’t seem to care? thank you for walking out on me?”

“you know i’d have stayed if i could,” you argue, voice breaking.

“then why didn’t you? why the fuck didn’t you?”

“because i couldn’t!”

“you could!” he screams—you realize, for the first time in your life, you hate when satoru screams. he never screams. “all my life, that old man has been making decisions for me. satoru, wear this. satoru, go here. satoru, don’t do that. satoru, put that away. satoru, stay away from them. satoru, come with me. that’s all he’s ever fucking done—make every choice for me. and now…now you’re just like him,” he breathes, lips wobbling as he stares at you with hurt. 

it’s like that for a bit—you stare at him as he crumbles, and he stares at you like he doesn't know you anymore. you don’t know who leans in first, if it’s your hand or his face, but one second you’re feet apart, and the next second his face is cradled in your hands, thumbs swiping away at his tears. you catch them, one by one, waiting to wipe them away no matter how fast they come. because satoru always comes when you call, and you’ll always be there for him to find you. 

“i don’t want to leave,” you mumble, “i never do. you are it for me, i meant that, you know. who else will melt extra chocolate in my hot chocolate?”

“then don’t leave,” he begs, voice cracking, “i don’t want you to. i’ll handle that old geezer—my grandfather will knock some sense into him. fuck, suguru and i can even hide his body, it’s fine. just don’t leave, okay?”

you let out a watery chuckle, pinching his cheek as you shake your head. “i don’t know if i’m worth homicide, satoru.”

“i think you’re wrong,” he huffs, “you’re wrong about a lot of things, you know. so wrong.”

“i never said i was perfect,” you pout.

he buries his head into your neck, clinging to you tightly—you cling back, because nothing is as safe as satoru’s arms. you’d melt into his skin if you could, live in that spot right where his heart is so you can make sure it’s always beating. 

“you’re still perfect,” he mumbles, “but you’re always mean to me. this was the worst you’ve ever been.”

“i’m sorry,” you murmur, slipping your fingers into his hair—it’s still wet, you realize. he’s soaked, and he could catch a cold but you don’t care. satoru is back. he’s here in your run-down apartment with the mugs and the blanket and that toothbrush you forgot to return and that pair of socks you found in your drawer. satoru is finally home. “i’ll never leave you again.”

“promise?”

“yeah. as long as you don’t block me on twitter again.”

“you deserved that.”

“and for the love of god, toru, delete that marvin’s room story. that was so dumb.”

“are you stalking me?” he pulls away with a grin, making you glare with a huff. he chuckles, kisses your forehead as he murmurs, “missed me that bad, huh? yeah, i would too.”

“well, obviously not enough to post marvin’s room on my story.”

“you can’t be mean to me after you broke my heart!” he whines.

yeah, you think, satoru is home. he’s still that loud, obnoxious, pestering brat that he always was—and he’s still the only love you’ve ever known. 

“i love you,” you press your forehead to his, kissing him slowly. you want to kiss him harder, you want to kiss him desperately like you’ll never kiss him again. like you lost him and miraculously got him back. like you’ll never see the sun again without him. 

but there’s time for that—lots of it, in fact. because satoru is home.

“i love you too,” he whispers, “wanna shower with me? if you really love me, you would.”

read the makeup sex sequel ;) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

if this fic was a person i would want it dead.

#teepods.writings #fics. #rich boy! au #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo angst #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen angst #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk angst #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru angst

[eddiesxangel]

Show Me Pt.2 | Older!Neighbour!Eddie X Reader

Summary: Eddie finds your little treasure chest and decides to have some fun with you.

Cw: established relationship, age gap, use of sex toys on reader, oral, p in v, breeding kink? (Reader is on birth control but not disclosed in fic), creampie, dirty talk, daddy kink, pussy slapping, orgasm denial, anal play, possessive Eddie, soft!Dom Eddie x f!sub reader.

WC 3.2k

Read part 1

“Sunshine, can you come up here?” your boyfriend calls out from your loft.

He had run up to take a shower not too long ago after coming home from a long day at the shop. He won’t admit it but he much prefers your sweet smelling expensive soaps and lotions to his off brand 2 in 1.

“What is it baby?” You ask as you walk up the stairs to see your boyfriend clad in a low hanging towel, reminding you of the first time you had met him six months ago. His wet happy trail lead to that delicious bulge he is packing.

He was standing in front of your bed like he was trying to hide something with his wide frame.

“I don’t know you tell me?” He shrugged.

You could tell he was up to something. You give him a pointed look before he continues.

“I thought we were good, Sugar? I thought that we had trust? but now I don’t know who you are anymore?”

“Eddie, baby what are you talking about?” Now you were worried. What did he think you did?

“We have such a strong relationship, and you think you could hide this from me?” He steps to the side, revealing what is on your bed.

Your eyes widen as your multiple vibrators, dildos, and other play toys are splayed across the floral duvet.

“Eddie!” You rush over, trying to cover them up, mildly embarrassed. Eddie was the only one you’d been with; you didn’t want to scare him away with your collection.

Eddie stops you before you can do anything.

“Nuh-uh, I don’t think so, missy; you can’t just pretend that you have all these tools and not think I’m not going to play, do you?”

A wave of arousal washed over your core at his words. Eddie using your toys on you? That’s something you never dreamed of. However, it’s your most desired need right now.

“I-I-“

“Now, you’ve been a naughty girl, keeping this from me.”

“No! I’ve been so good!” You counter back, only knowing it would rile Eddie up even more, and you could feel his stiffening cock on your thigh.

“I think we should start off slow… tease you until you’re begging for it. How’s that sound?” Eddie’s hot breath fanned across your ear and neck, sending a shiver up your spine.

“Oh-okay,” you stuttered.

“Good girl,” he tapped your ass before telling you to strip.

Your clothes came off instantly, and Eddie’s towel had been hung up on the bathroom door to dry.

His half-hard cock bounced as he walked over to the bed before picking up a small pink vibrator, one of your favourites, and sat down in the middle of the bed up against the pillows. He patted his thick, hairy thigh as he instructed you to come sit between his legs. You crawled up to him before turning around, resting your back against him, and letting your head fall on his shoulder.

“Lean back and open your legs for me, Sugar, yea that’s it.” His rough, thick hands explored your inner thighs as he made sure you were sitting and as widely spread as possible.

He kissed the side of your neck as his hands travelled up and across your stomach, around to your breasts, making sure to pinch your nipples as his mouth explored your delicate skin.

He let his hands roam your soft body a little bit more before picking up the vibrator and turning it on.

A low buzzing filled the silent room before you let out a breathy moan as Eddie gently teased you. He let the little silicone toy glide across your arms, down your cleavage all the way past your belly button to your little thatch of hair that covered your mound, then back up again. You quivered as the vibrator tickled your nipples.

“More please.” Your hand gripped Eddie’s wrist.

“Not yet.” He mumbled in your ear.

“Please”

“No, Princess. You have been naughty. This is your punishment.”

“I’m sorry,” you pleaded. You would do anything for him, your touch, your already-soaked pussy. You could feel your slick, cool against the air of the room, but he kept building up the anticipation of finally touching you where you wanted it most.

“Oh, now you’re sorry,” he tutted.

“Yes,” you gasp.

Eddie’s free hand found your nipple, tweaking and pinching it to his desire. This only flooded your pussy once more with arousal. You could feel it start to run down your thighs as you tried to close your legs for any sense of friction.

“No,” Eddie growled once again, unlatching his fingertips from your nipple and vibrator to wrench your legs open once again.

“You’re going to keep your pretty legs open so Daddy can play.” his hot lip brushed against your exposed throat.

A wet slap filled the bedroom as a sharp sting struck your clit when Eddie’s fingers slapped your swollen clit.

“Fuck!” You jerk your body back further into your boyfriend, only pushing his stiff cock into your back. You’re sure there will probably be a penis-head-shaped bruise there in a few hours, and the thought made you giggle.

“Oh, you like that baby girl?” His condescending tone only made you wetter.

His thick tattooed fingers came down on your pussy once again before pinching your clit between his thumb and forefinger.

You grip his forearms needing something to dig your fingers into, and let out a breathy moan, and Eddie’s cock twitches at your shaky voice.

“I think you’re enjoying this a little too much” he picked up the vibrator again, clicked it on the second strongest level and finally placed it on your clit.

Your hips automatically started gyrating into you as your orgasm quickly built.

“You going to cum?”

“Mmhm,” you nod your head.

“Not yet,” he growled.

“Okay” you whined as you tried your hardest to stay still, you hold on but Eddie was teasing you so good you couldn’t help but feel the need to cum right now-

“Good girl,” he swirled the vibrator around and around.

“I wanna cum, please!”

“I decide when.”

But you couldn’t hold on any longer. “Daddy, I’m cumming!”

Eddie ripped the toy away from you the second the words left your lips, denying you your pleasure.

“This one doesn’t seem to be working,” he clicked it off and threw it to the side.

“No, no, please,” you cried.

“Don’t be a brat” he slapped your throbbing pussy once more before pushing you up off of him so he could crawl to the end of the bed and get a fresh toy.

“No! I was so close-”

“Let’s try this one.” He plucked up your rabbit, and you stopped arguing.

You frantically nod your head as you crawl back, splaying your legs wide open for Eddie. His eyes zoned in on your glistening pussy lips. They were puffy and swollen and the prettiest shade. You watched as his eyes glazed over with lust; you knew he wanted to dive in.

“I know you wanna, Daddy,” you teased, slipping your middle finger through your folds.

“No, mine.” Eddie pushed your hand away and replaced it with his own.

You let your head fall back as his thick fingers ran through your folds, collecting your slick before he pushed it up inside of you.

A throaty moan left your lips and your overly sensitive pussy clenched down on Eddie’s finger.

“Your pussy is so tight, baby, I can’t wait to stuff it full with my cock”

“I need you!”

“Greedy, greedy girl, so greedy for my cock”

“Only yours!”

“That’s right, baby girl, this pussy is mine, mine, mine,” he worked his fingers inside your pussy as he spoke.

“Can I cum, now?” Your eyes watered; you needed it so badly.

“No, Sunshine. We haven’t even started.” He smirked and removed his fingers and sucked them clean before he reached over for the rabbit you had forgotten about.

Eddie ran the tip of the toy through your puffy folds before breaching your tight hole. Once it was fully submerged and the ears were pushed against your clit is when he turned it on.

A throaty growl left your mouth when he started up the toy.

“This one your favourite princess?”

You nod your head frantically, not able to speak. The vibrations on your clit mixed with the thrusting in the dildo made your head spin.

“Tell me how you use it.”

“Wh-what?” You were fucked out already, and you hadn’t cum once yet.

“When you’re all alone, dreaming about me, needy for my touch. What. Do. You. Do?”

“Eddie! Eddie! Eddie!” You chant his name like a mantra as he pumps the purple toy in and out of your needy cunt.

“That’s what I like to hear, but I prefer Daddy. You know that princess” he slipped it out fully, and you cried out again. Your orgasm was so close, just ripped away from you once again.

“Daddy, please!” You slam your fists in that bed with frustration.

“I’m sorry, baby girl.” He wasn’t sorry at all.

His cock was throbbing. This was the longest foreplay he’d ever put you through, and you’d yet to touch him.

“I think it’s Daddy’s turn for a little fun.” He sat up, crawling up your body to kiss you for the first time since this little punishment started. He was only a man; he could only hold out for so long.

Your lips were hungry as your tongue slipped past his lips. You needed any kind of comfort and contact from your boyfriend.

You let out a whimper as his large tattooed frame pulled away.

“Now, now, Sunshine, you get to have fun too.” He laid back beside you, and you quickly shuffled your way down to rest between his legs.

You lay flat on your stomach, aligning your mouth with his bright pink cock.

His cock lay flat against his trim stomach aligning with the happy trail covering his belly button. His clean dark hair surrounding the base of his shaft and his full round balls only made his cock more tempting.

Your mouth watered as you grasped it in your hand. Your fingers hardly touch as his girth was so wide. You waisted not another moment as you brought the tip up to your lips. Eddie’s eyes found yours as he gazed down at you lovingly; he couldn’t hold back his smile as his good girl took his cock so well.

“Yes, that’s it, baby, good girl,” he praised as your mouth took him further. His usual briny, salty taste was replaced by floral sweetness as he used your soaps and shampoos not an hour ago.

You hummed as he hit the back of your throat, and it sent a wave of pleasure through Eddie. Your hair was pulled taut from Eddie’s fingers, gripping it in his fist.

As you gripped the base of his cock in one hand, your other travelled under to fondle his balls; your mouth worked its way up and down the long thick shaft before your mouth found his balls. You continued jerking him while you kissed and sucked his perfect balls.

“Fuck Princess, you’re so good at that, my perfect girl. My good girl” his lean stomach clenched as he tried to hold off his orgasm.

“But I thought I was naughty, Daddy?” You pout innocently. You knew what you were doing.

“You were, but I think you’ve shown me you’re sorry.” He shifted his weight to crawl back to the end of the bed where the toys were still gathered. You scanned the options, excited for what he would choose for you next.

“Now, Princess. There is something that we haven’t tried yet. Now you are in control with this, so you can tell me no, but-” he reaches down on the bed, and your eyes widen when you spot the toy he fondles.

“Yes,” you don’t hesitate. Your pussy floods once again as Eddie brings up the silver bejewelled butt plug to view.

“You sure?”

Before Eddie could finish speaking, you’re already on your hands and knees, arching your back and presenting yourself to your boyfriend. You eagerly wiggled your cheeks at Eddie, and he just about came right then and there.

“Fuck” Eddie fucks his fist as he watches his girl spread herself for him with all the confidence and need. “What did I do on God's green earth to deserve you?”

“Probably something realllllly good,” you smirk over your shoulder, biting your lip as you watch Eddie watch you. “Lube is in the same drawer,” you motion to the nightstand.

Quickly, Eddie hops off the bed and gets the lube before he busts a nut by just looking at you.

You hear the hard plastic of the lid snap and the lewd, wet sound of the lube being squirted out of the bottle. The cold liquid hits your puckered hole, and you flinch a little at the temperature shock, but Eddie quickly warms it up with his fingers, and he circles your tight hole with his fingers before slowly pushing them inside.

You breathe in sharply as Eddie’s thick fingers spread you open. You feel so full as he pumps them in and out, slowly spreading you open.

“Good girl, just like that. Relax for me, Sunshine.”

“So good,” you whisper, pushing your ass further into Eddie’s penetration.

“I think you’re ready, princess.”

“Yes,” you agree.

Eddie twirls the little jewel in his hand, admiring it before he gently pushes it into your ass.

“Fuck” you both breathe out as it enters you.

Eddie can’t help but stroke his cock in his fist again as he takes a mental picture. There was no way he was ever forgetting this moment; this spank bank material would last him a lifetime.

“Daddy, please,” You wiggled your ass once more, and you swear you heard Eddie whimper behind you.

Your glistening pussy was so inviting, especially with the little silver jewel perched right atop your needy hole, only making it more pleasurable for both of you.

“Gunna mark my pussy, gonna fill it with so much cum” Eddie finally slipped his cock into your dripping cunt.

You let out a guttural moan as his thick cock splits you open.

“Fuck me, you’re so tight,” Eddie grits through his teeth; he can feel the butt plug inside you as he pushes through your wet canal.

You felt so full, so good, and so fucked out as Eddie started to pump himself in and out of you. He couldn’t believe how fucking sexy you were. He couldn’t be that you let him play with you like this. He could use his own little doll to his pleasure.

He snapped his hips into your wet pussy, and his balls slapped against your clit, only aiding your pleasure. The sounds of wet slaps and moans of pleasure filled the quiet loft. Eddie grazed against your g spot on each snap, and Eddie could see the creamy ring collect at the bottom of his cock. Your slick coated his thick thatch of hair at the base of his shaft, but he didn’t care; he wanted you to mark him.

“God, your pussy is so good, so tight, so perfect, my perfect little princess”

“Eddie!” You cry your orgasm building and building. You prayed he would let you fall apart this time.

“I can feel you, baby; your pussy is clenching my cock so good.” He slapped your plush ass cheek, and that made you quiver. Your elbows give out, and your head falls into the bed below you, only making your ass stick out further.

You feel Eddie grip each cheek in both hands, his whole palm covers most of your ass, and he spreads you open even wider. He loves watching as his cock disappears as you suck him in.

“Fuck, you’re being so good for Daddy.”

“More,” you whimper.

Eddie reaches over at your request and finds the pink vibrator, and flicks it on to the highest setting before placing it in your swollen clit.

You can’t hold off for ten seconds, and your body convulses under Eddie’s touch.

“I’m cuming!!” Your body washes over with a bolt of pleasure rippling through you.

“Fuck, such a good girl, fuckin’ gripping my cock so tight. You want this cum so badly, don’t you? Squeezing me so good, you make sure that I’m going to pump you so full”

Eddie’s hips only worked faster; the vibrator was still latched to your clit, you were overly sensitive, but Eddie didn’t care you were going to cum on his cock again.

“Eddie, please, too much.” You were vibrating along with the toy attached to your cunt.

“You wanted more, Princess, I’m giving you more.”

That condescending motherfuck-“DADDY!” You scream out as your second orgasm takes over your senses. This time, your knees gave out, and you fell flat against the bed.

“Oh, I fucked you that good baby?” He chuckles.

You can only moan in reply.

The new angle tightened on Eddie's cock, and he couldn’t hold off any longer.

“You’re going to take all this cum, baby; you’re going to let me pump you so full it will be dripping out of you for days. Your little belly is going to swell; you're going to carry my baby. Do you want that? Want me to fuck a baby into you?”

“YES,” you cry; his cock gets so good you can’t think about anything else than how Eddie made you feel. You wanted his cum so bad you clamp down on his cock again, and Eddie can’t take it.

Hot ropes of white seed are shooting into your cunt as Eddie continues to pump his cock deep into you, making sure he fills you.

Reluctantly, Eddie pulls out of you as his cock starts softening within you. All you can do is lay there as your body still tingles.

“Let me see you, pretty girl” Eddie takes your leg and flips your effortlessly so you’re on your back and spread open for him to see his hot cum leaking out of your used cunt onto the butt plug that’s still fully submerged in your ass.

“So fucking pretty” Eddie squeezed the fatty meat of your inner thigh before placing a kiss on your clit, making you jerk.

“Oh, she’s so sensitive,” he smirks before placing two more kisses on your pussy before sitting up to help clean you up.

“You okay, Sunshine?” He returned with a warm cloth to clean up the big mess he made of you.

“More than okay” you’re in heaven. You haven’t experienced sex like that before. It was fun, it was hot, it was tense, it was exciting, it was everything you needed.

“Good girl,” he grins as he places a gentle kiss on your lips. You couldn’t believe how good he was to you, and you moaned at the praise.

“Don’t tell me you’re ready to go again?” He chuckles.

“How could I not when you’re so sexy? You turn me on so bad” You roll on top of him, spreading your still-wet pussy over his soft bush and starting to grind down on his crotch.

“Fuck you can’t say things like that. Eddie sits up so he can kiss you.

“I think it’s your turn, Mr.Munson.” You reach over to your toys and click on the vibrator.

“You minx” he smacks your ass, and you get ready for round two.

tags: @edge-just-edge @skyline4446 @nailbatanddungeon @reidsbtch @snowflowersstars246 @eldermayfield @eddies-puppet @blue-slushy22 @birdysaturne @babyexpertlampskeleton @gri959 @starksbabie @bl00d-puppy @xxhellfirebunnyxx @amira0303 @ali-r3n @lavendermunson @fairykissesaresweet @minorlystuck13 @feral-pumpkin-energy @asimpforthe80s s @flawiette @munsoneightysixx @localemofreak @babybimbo777 @elegantkolalapaper @stayonmars @harringtonxkeery @hellfiremunsonn @eddiestans-blog @sp1dyb0y1008 @shadyhologrambanana @babygorewhore

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #older!eddie munson x reader #older!eddie munson x you #mechanic!eddie munson x reader #mechanic!eddie munson x you #Eddie Munson imagine #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson #eddie munson concept #eddie munson fan fic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie x fem!reader

[hoshigray]

Now look here, it's sugardaddy! x sugar baby! reader time >>:3 So here's the rundown: the reader is a college senior who works part-time in a diner and finds out that their favorite customer, Toji, is a sugar daddy and wants to initiate courtship. Although it is a proposition you fail to see yourself saying no to, is this something you can see yourself being in the long run?

A/n: This prompt was picked on a poll to celebrate getting over 50 followers, only for me to get to 100 right after!!?? Y'all...can I give you a hug? ;w; No, oh okay. Anyways, I won't make another poll, BUT I'll be opening thirsts/requests soon!! >:D I just gotta make myself a disclaimer list before we let those lil fantasies of yours fly, lol. But yeah, this is my first time posting a fic over 1k+, so I hope y'all like it. Also, bonus: there's art drawn by Moi (@hoshigaby)?? You'll have to scroll down to find it tho :33 Okay, I'm sorry, go ahead and read!!!

Cw: soft dom! Toji x fem! reader - implied age gap (the reader is in their early 20s, Toji's around early or mid-30s) - mating press - cervix fucking - oral (fem! receiving) - pussy drunk Toji - breeding - daddy kink - overstimulation (fem! receiving) - pet names (baby, babygirl, darlin', good girl, honey, kid/kiddo, mama, princess, sweetie, sweetheart) - praise - clitoral play (Toji pinches your clit) - reader isn't a virgin but, it's the first time you and Toji have sex.

Wc: 4.9k

"Oh look, your favorite is here."

10 o'clock, it's closing time. All the servers and bussers are ready to buss down tables and sweep the floors, hosts at the front split up tips and head straight home, and the cooks clean the kitchen and throw out the trash. All there's left is the silence of the dining area, where not a single customer is in sight.

Well, minus the one Utahime points out to you.

You turn to the bar area, where almost all the tables are empty, and all the high-rise televisions are turned off. All but for one, which was showing a football game.

A man is watching the screen, sitting in a booth at the far end with a glass of beer on the table. He's wearing a black turtleneck covered with a denim jacket, white fur on the collar, and a silver chain contrasting the black clothing. You gaze downwards to his black jeans pants, where his left foot seems to be tapping the ground. He's waiting for someone.

Once his eyes catch your approaching figure, his deadpanned face shows a smile in recognition. He was waiting for you.

And you smile back as you walk towards him.

The familiarity with this man comes from a year working at the diner. His name is Toji Fushiguro, and he's been a regular even before you started working here. And to make things funnier, he was the first customer you served after a week and a half of training. You can recall when you accidentally put milk and sugar in his specifically requested black coffee, to which you apologized profusely ("Heh, it's alright, darlin'" He flashed a smile that was meant to reassure you. "The first time that's ever happened to me.").

It was there that you found yourself being the only person that's served him. At first, you thought of it as some sort of joke after the coffee mishap, but now, unless you're there to take his order, he'll only have a beer or black coffee with all the other servers. The crew often pokes fun at you, stating you're the older man's favorite. And you gotta admit, it makes your heart swoon knowing this is true.

"There she is," Toji watches you approach him with his foot finally stopped tapping the checkered floor beneath him. "My adorable lil' server."

You giggle as you sit on the cushioned booth seat across from him. "It's good to see you, Mr. Fushiguro. I hope life's been good for you." You wave goodbye to the guy behind the bar counter, who turns off the TV still on as Toji focuses on something else. You promised to be the last person to turn off the lights and lock the doors before leaving, so now it's just you and Toji.

"I thought I told you to drop the Mr. Fushiguro, kid." He reprimands you with his playful smile, the right corner of his lip quirking his scar upward. "And I could ask you the same thing. How's college goin', darlin'?"

An exaggerated sigh leaves your system. "It's going alright. Can't believe I'm about to be done after the next semester, but the senioritis hasn't hit me too strong yet, thank God. And I can't wait to graduate with all this debt on my back~!" You flash the fakest beaming smile with two thumbs up.

Toji chuckles at your fraud enthusiasm. "Mmmm, I bet. But I know you're smarter than me and most people who work for me, so I'm sure you'll do just fine."

"Yeah, I'd like to think so, too." Your chipper attitude dwindles, and Toji notices the change in tone.

"What's up? You don't think you'll get yourself a job?"

"Umm, well," You cough to clear your throat from awkwardness. "I tried signing up for plenty of internships. Some of them shut me down, others just haven't replied back. And I guess it's just me overthinking, but I worry that I won't get a job in something I like..."

"Aww, princess," Toji rises from his cushioned spot to move to your side, sitting close to you with his big jean-covered thigh brushing yours. He places a hand on your back to rub comforting circles. "That's just the thoughts in your head."

You groan into your hands. "I know, that's why I don't know why I'm beating myself up about it so much... But it's okay! I know I'll be fine because I still have this job keeping me going for a year."

Toji raises a brow. "You wanna be a server all your life? Wanna serve me my black coffee and BLT sandwich til my last breath?"

You hit his chest in amusement. "Well, no, but if it comes down to it, I don't mind. I'll just take up more jobs or maybe make a side hustle. Either way, I know Mei Mei will help me out. I'm sure everyone here will if they have the chance."

"I could also help you."

Your hands instantly go up defensively. "No, Mr. Fushiguro, I wouldn't want that! I'm sure you're pretty busy, and I don't want my troubles to burden you."

Toji's eyebrows knit together, his sharp eyes surveying your defensive stance. "It wouldn't be trouble if I'm the one offerin' to help you, honey."

"Yes, but even so..." You look at your lap as your fingers dance with each other to ease your anxiousness. "It would feel unbefitting to have a customer — a valuable one such as you — to help me with my financial problems. Seeing you smile at me when I serve you your coffee...I'm perfectly content with just."

Your gaze locks into your fidgety fingers, saying the last part was probably unnecessary. Yet it was true; Toji had always been patient with you whenever he stopped by, even going the extra mile by giving you a seriously generous tip after his meals. You know you didn't deserve it, but he's already at the door before you can argue with him. If his gracious action was just a mere small percent of what he could do, then he's done plenty for you than needed.

Toji, however, didn't see it that way. He hums as he leans back onto the booth seat, his hand now snaking to the back of your neck, his thumb caressing the nook of your neck and trapezius.

"Well," He breaks the silence, you're listening. "What if we take this outside of customer service?"

The brows are pulled together as you turn to him in slight confusion. "What do you mean by that?"

"I've been thinking for quite a while," with his hand maneuvering to rest on your shoulder, he sighs and straightens himself up. "Your manager, Mei Mei, right? I talked with her not too long ago, telling her how much of a hard worker you are and how even while still in school and suffering with assignments, you still smile and make sure the customers enjoy their time here."

You give him a thanks, and he continues on. "Which is why I told her about what I wanna do. So here's my proposition: I'll pay for everything for you. Your debt, bills, clothes, whatever it is your pretty lil' head is worryin' 'bout."

Toji's promise does sound comforting to the ears, but you think about your part in all this. "So, do I have to work for you?"

He chuckles. "No, baby, not working fr' me. But there is something I want you to do."

"Yes?"

Toji doesn't give you a clear answer, staring at your face with a soft smile. You wonder why he's being odd until his face leans forward, and the hand on your shoulder pushes you into a kiss. You let out a yelp into his mouth, but the shock diminishes once you succumb to his warm, intoxicating lips. He tastes like beer, definitely from his drink.

He removes his lips from you, and you faintly exhale in an unsteady breath. "Mmmm, yer too much fr' me, sweetie." Toji groans and kisses down your neck while you place a hand on his chest to grip his turtleneck for support before you dissolve into his arms. And although you shouldn't be at your work at this time of night doing this, it felt too good to end.

"I want you to be with me," Toji says in-between smooches on your neck, moving to paint the other side with his pecks. "You're so good to me, darlin', always being such a good girl." He nibbles on your clavicle, and a soft gasp rewards his eardrums. "Lemme take care of you, y/n."

All that's going through your head is the feeling of his lips on your body and the arousing throbbing sense happening in your nether core.

"Hmm, whaddya say, baby?" His lips are too close to your ear as he playfully bites the lobe. Your thighs rub against one another, and you know there's a wet spot in your panties. "Gonna be my perfect girl?"

If you don't give him an answer quick, you're bound to melt right on this seat, and being a whimpering mess to his touch is embarrassing enough.

"Haaaah...Y-yes," You finally answer in weak whispers, mind spinning and eyes glossy. "I wanna—Ahaaa...I wanna be yours."

You can feel Toji's lips curl into a smile. He lifts his head to look at you, and a hand comes up to cup your face before he gives you a soft kiss on your quivering lips.

"My good girl."

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊✩₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

A few months have passed since you and Toji formed this new relationship. And getting used to certain things is still a challenge.

For one: covering up your new lifestyle is never easy when you're out with people you know. During winter break, you went to dinner with your friends and offered to pay for the whole table. They looked at you as if you were talking nonsense ("Girl, where the hell you get that kind of money to be covering for all of us?" "For real, is this the same diner you've been working at? Are they hiring?").

Another thing that wasn't easy to get accustomed to was Toji spoiling you. Since you're a college student, Toji only sees you every other weekend when he has time. During those days, Toji doesn't hold back in showering you with gifts and affection. Between the fancy dates in expensive restaurants, riding rides at fun amusement parks, or the bags of new clothes you bring back to your dorm, it was something you didn't expect to happen so quickly. Your roommates constantly tease you about this "mystery man" who makes it known you're his special lady.

But outside of that, the most significant change was you and Toji. To say you two got closer was too easy to put into words. Sure, the money was there, so you could finally get a good night's rest without worrying too much about your school debt or bills. However, you knew this went beyond the dollar bills and the fancy clothes.

Come to find out, Toji knows and remembers things that amaze you. There was a time he bought you a whole wardrobe worth of dresses because he remembered you had to cancel dates with your friends since you had nothing cute to wear. Or the time he got you a box of your favorite teas, even though you briefly mentioned them to him during a talk way back from recollection.

And even away from the materialistic things, you can feel how much Toji loves you. You can feel it in his eyes whenever he's looking at you. You can feel it when you try to argue yourself out of trying an outfit you don't think will be good on you, but Toji coaxes you into it because he knows — not thinks, knows you'll look good wearing it. You can feel it in his hands when they hold yours, when he places a hand on your thigh and rubs it in loving warmth, or when he caresses your cheek when he kisses you goodbye when you two have to return to your own lives.

It's a type of love you didn't see yourself being on the other end of. The more immersed you are, the harder it is to imagine yourself out of it.

Spring break is now upon us, and Toji has invited you to join him overseas for a business trip. You tried to decline, saying it's his trip and you don't want to intrude on his business. That argument was immediately shut down ("Tch, believe me, sweetheart, you're saving me from bashing someone's head in if you're close to me than not. Plus, I wanna see you wear that cute swimsuit I got you."), so he dragged you on his private jet, and now we're here.

During the day is when he's away for work, so you spend the morning either in the penthouse suite you two are staying in, outside taking pictures to show Toji later or looking around at the little shops nearby. Toji is done with work around the early afternoon, so you two spend time together exploring the country, trying new foods, and taking walks around the area while talking about how your day went until the sun goes down.

Everything goes well until Thursday when Toji texts you saying something happened at work and that he'd be at the suite later than usual. Well, it's 7:45, the sun is starting to go down, and Toji is still nowhere in sight. I hope everything is alright on his end.

You're unsure about going outside for a walk on the off-chance you stay out too late. And if something happens to you while Toji isn't close by, that'll give him more to worry about on his plate, and you definitely don't want that for him.

So, you look around the penthouse to see if there's anything to keep you occupied until Toji's return, and then what catches your eye is the swimming pool outside on the terrace which you haven't tried yet. That'll do!

You go to change into a swimsuit, a cute two-piece that Toji bought for you when you two went shopping together. After a quick shower, you enter the pool and enjoy the calm waters while watching the sunset, leaving a beautiful array of colors painting the sky over you.

Tomorrow is your last day here while Toji will do business, and then you're back to school on Monday. The fact that you'll be graduating debt free still blows your mind. Toji really fulfilled his promise and took care of your worries.

Is that to say that your relationship ends once you touch that diploma?

You lift your feet and lay on your back to allow the water to hold you up, ears covered in the water and face looking into the sky as you're lost in your thoughts.

It wouldn't be too far off if Toji wanted to close this whole thing off when you graduate, as the point was for you to not worry about debt and such. That much you understood from the very beginning. But what happens after that? Do you two just go back to being acquaintances that only meet at the diner? And what about the stuff he got you? Do they stay with you forever? And do you have to fight memories of him every time you see them?

What about all the touches, all the hand-holding, all the cuddles, and all the kisses? Are they supposed to mean nothing to you the next time you see his face?

You're thankful for the water keeping you afloat in the pool, but having these thoughts attack your brain just makes you want to sink in loathing.

Until you feel something tickle your feet, having your body react in a state of panic. No longer floating on your back, you search for whatever is torturing your feet. Only to find Toji in front of you wearing black trunks, he chuckles lowly, and your heart sinks in embarrassment.

"T-Toji," You swim up to greet him. "How long were you back from work?"

"For about 10 minutes," He watches you move through the water, following you to sit in the shallow part of the pool for you two to talk. "I saw you in the pool and thought I'd join. I tried callin' out to ya, but the water was blocking your ears."

"Hehe, sorry about that. I was thinking about something. How was work?"

His face went into a deep scowl with rolled eyes, and you giggle at his nonverbal response. "Had I not known I was comin' back here to see you, I'd probably fucked that rookie up."

"That bad?"

He hums and brings you closer to him with his hand on your shoulder. "But don't worry 'bout it. And you? What were you thinking about?"

"Hmm? Oh, it was nothing," your encouraging response is fictitious.

Toji lowers a brow. "Try again."

"No, honest! It was nothing, Toji."

"Don't make me tickle you again, kiddo." You freeze and look at his face. His sharp gaze and slight grin speak for themselves about his seriousness.

A sigh is withdraw from your lips. "I was just thinking about how I'd be leaving on Saturday and being halfway done with my senior year of college."

"And?"

"And, uhh," You gulp and avert your eyes to your lap, your fingers swaying with the pool water. "I was also thinking about me... and you?"

There's silence, the lack of response eating you alive. Then you feel Toji's hand grip your shoulder.

"Are you scared I won't be with you after you graduate?"

He hit the nail because you don't answer for a few seconds. Your eyes still avoid him.

But Toji still persists. "Do you not want to be with me?"

Your head turns to face him in haste, taking you aback at how fast you were. "No! I don't want this to end. I'm grateful for how close you and I have become. I want... I want..." You fall silent once more as your head moves back to your lap as if you'd find the words you want to express lying there.

Using his free hand, Toji grabs your chin to look his way again. "What do you want, baby? Use your words fr' me."

The intense gaze of his jade-green eyes captures your attention, practically daring you to look away from him. The warmth of your cheeks spreads around your face, and you gulp before answering.

"I really appreciate all that you've done for me. And I...I really like you, Toji. I want to be with you." His face doesn't change as you ramble on, causing you to move your eyes to avoid the awkward stare. "But I wouldn't blame you if you want to stop with where we—"

Your sentence was interrupted by Toji's kiss, and a squeak was suppressed between the two lips. You exhale in bliss as your hands find purchase on his solid chest. He deepens the kiss when his hand is posted at the back of your neck.

You break the kiss to breathe, Toji's gruff chuckles fills the warm air.

"You're too adorable, princess. Do you really think I'd want to let my precious girl away from my sight?" You open your mouth to interject, but Toji lifts your hand and brings it to his lips, kissing each knuckle. "Listen here, darlin'. I didn't offer to take care of your debt on a whim. I adore the fuckin' shit out of you, and I was gonna wait til your graduation to ask if you'd still want this thing to be official."

"But now that I hear you're interested," his big hand holds yours, fingers intertwined as his thumb brushes your forefinger. "Are ya up for it?"

You breathe slowly to ease your heart, beating at an irregular tempo. You grip his hand in return and offer a sheepish smile.

"Yes. I'd like that very much, Toji."

He smirks and kisses your cheek. "Good girl." Toji has his arms placed behind your back and under your legs. Then he stands up while picking up your figure bridal style. He grins hard when you squeal in surprise as your arms sling around his neck.

"Let's shower," he walks out of the pool and into the suite. "And then afterward, I'll show you how much I've been itchin' to make you be my girl for real."

The heat on your face grows tenfold, and Toji barks a laugh when you hide your face. You can only mentally pray for yourself for what's to come.

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊✩₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

That little prayer did absolutely nothing!

Now you're lying on the bed nude and wet from the shower as the water droplets on your body slide down to the satin sheets beneath you. Your hands cover your mouth, trying to suppress the moans and sobs from exiting your lips.

And the cause of this is the man currently nestled between your legs. You can see the raven hair between your inner thighs, but you feel a wet muscle lapping around your vulva. The lewd noises of Toji eating you out fill the room and has you writhing in discomfort, and you try to slowly move your lower region away from his ravaging mouth.

"Aht aht, you're not goin' anywhere, mama." Toji's rough hands grip your waist and pull you back down, his nose brushing your clit as you jerk upwards. He lifts his head to look at you, and the image of your slick smeared all over his mouth and chin almost makes you faint.

"Put those hands down, baby. Let Daddy hear that sweet voice of yours." He uses one hand to play with your pussy, middle and forefinger abuse your inner lips as his thumb grinds down on your sweet bud. Your eyes shoot up for the stars, and you're forced to do what he says, hands gripping the sheets while your cries are out for him to hear.

"Aahhhh!! Haaah, T-Toji!! 'S too much, too—Ooohh!" His tongue returns between your cunt, licking and tasting the sticky fluid coating your pussy. Your eyes are watering, your mind starts to feel dizzy, and your legs can't stay still to save your life. He's been doing this for 15 minutes!!

You clutch his hair and wail out his name in pleasure, earning a moan from Toji as his grip on your thighs gets tighter.

He can tell you're close to finishing, so he helps you. His tongue slides from your wet center to your clitoris, licking and sucking on the extremely sensitive bud, his teeth lightly pressing down on the pearl.

Your release comes instantly, and your walls spasm as you cry in pure euphoria. Your head pushed deep into the pillow below you, letting your body finish reacting to the climax. However, Toji doesn't wait for you when his mouth drinks your essence. His tongue attacked your sore velvety walls, having you gasp for air.

When he's done, he finally withdraws from between your legs and kneels before you, taking in your disheveled figure. Your tear-stricken face and hooded eyes peer up at him as he wipes his face of your excess come, licking the rest from the back of his hand.

Toji snickers hoarsely. "Sorry, sweetheart, you tasted so fuckin' good I couldn't help myself. Besides," you watch his hands trail down to his dick as he places himself on your messy vagina. "Gotta get you prepped up fr' me."

He puts a pillow under your lower back to raise your hips more. Seeing his dick for the first time has you in mental turmoil. Toji notices you looking and sneers, pulling your hips to him so his balls practically kiss your opening, his dick on full display on your lower abdomen. The girth alone has your cunt pulsating in anticipation, and good God, the length of that thing. It's not the first dick you've seen in your life, but it's definitely the biggest challenge you've come across.

I hope those 15 minutes of prep were enough.

You come back to your senses when you feel the tip of his hefty member circling the corners of your folds, and your slick aids him as a lubricant.

"Ready, babygirl?" You exhale a nervous breath and nod for confirmation. "Okay, we're gonna start real slow."

Toji began to push the tip in, your folds being spread open to accommodate the foreign object intruding into your tight hole. You close your eyes and hold your breath, the pain worsening by the second. You take one breath, and Toji pushes further. With another breath, he goes further. Another-

A giant gasp takes over you as the tip of Toji's cock enters you. And Toji takes his time pushing himself further into you, using every fiber of his being not to rut into your tight walls off the jump.

"Haaah, hmmm, oh fuck," That's easier said than done with you gripping onto him like your life depended on it. Once he's pushed his whole cock into you, your words come out as a babbling mess, gripping his arms for support. He looks down at your disarranged self, chuckling at such a wonderful sight. "You look really fuckin' sexy layin' under me, baby."

"God...Toji," Tears stream down your cheeks, wincing at the pain down south. "'S too muuu-ch, too big for—Hnnngh!!" A sudden thrust of the hips has you biting down on your bottom lip.

"C'mon now, I thought I told you about that. I already let it slide once or twice." Toji places your legs on his shoulders and leans close to you, his body weight adding onto yours as the base of his cock grinds into your sex. "What's my new name, mama?"

"Ah!! I'm sorry, Daddy." The title comes through sobs.

Toji grins from ear to ear, wiping your tears with his calloused fingers. "Good girl," he kisses your forehead as you adjust to his girthy length. "So fuckin' pretty fr' Daddy." He takes your lips with his soft ones before moving his hips in a slow yet rough rhythm.

The mating press has your body submit to him, taking in his cock as it sinks deep into your swollen core. And it only gets worse when his pace gets faster, hitting your sweet spots accurately. At this rate, you're bound to cum earlier than necessary.

Then you feel his tip abruptly touch your cervix, and the wail you let out is picked up by Toji's ears. "Oh? Think I found what I was lookin' for." His hips grind deep in you, his tip abusing your poor cervix to the point you speak in tongues. "Feelin' good, princess?"

"Fuck, Daddyyyy, please, I'm-Ahaaah, Ohhh!" His irrational pace has your brain turning to mush, his cock bullying your insides. The sound of his balls slapping against your squelching folds has you squeezing him harder. "I'm gonna cu-cumm!!"

Toji hisses into your ear, the tone of his voice dominating your senses. "Oooooh, don't grip on me like that, sweetie. Gonna end up — Mmmph! Shit, shit, shit, shit...Gonna give you a baby."

You reach to cup his face through watery eyes glazed in a haze. "Please, Daddy, I want it," You know you're talking nonsense, but why care when you're feeling this fucking good. "Inside, I want it, inside!"

"Heh, be careful with what you wish for, mama." He kisses you again as his hips become erratic, and he moves a hand to your clit and pinches it, whining into your mouth when you're cunt clutches onto him one final time.

You cum around his cock and push your head back on the pillows, your gushy walls spasming around his length, prompting Toji to cum inside you after a few more thrusts. You two moan into each other's mouths, riding each other's high until your bodies calm down.

The two of you pant heavily once the kiss is broken apart, and his deep emerald orbs take in your dazed expression. He smiles when he notices drool on the side of your mouth, using a thumb to wipe it off for you.

"My sweet darlin'," Toji kisses your cheek and sighs deeply into your embrace. "You're too good fr' me, baby."

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊✩₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

"Did I say that I want your babies?"

You're resting with Toji, your head relaxed on his chest as you sit between his legs. The television in the bedroom plays an episode of a sitcom, anything for you two to look at and enjoy a moment of peace together.

He snickers at your question, his chest rising and falling as you lay on him feels nice. "Yeah, you kinda did."

"Wow, that sex must've screwed something up in my head."

"Yeah, my dick had you wanting to risk it all." He snorts when you playfully hit his arm. "Don't worry, we can find some plan b in the morning."

Turning to face Toji, still watching TV, you furrow your brows. "We? What about work?"

"I have tomorrow off. It's your last day, and I don't feel like going back to work, or else I'll be sour all fuckin day. Much rather spend it with you than with some morons."

You look at Toji for a little longer before you smile and kiss his cheek, catching the older man off guard as you nestle into his warm body. "Thank you, Toji. For everything."

The thanks carry a deeper meaning. Not a single ounce of doubt clouds your mind now that you've gotten the closure you wanted. Thinking about how your life brought you to this moment, you're happy with your decision to pursue this relationship and more. And it's thanks to this man for making it possible.

Toji still stares at you before he scoffs and kisses your temple.

"No problem, kiddo."

#𝑯𝒐𝒔𝒉𝒊 ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ 𝑾𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔: 𝑭𝒊𝒄𝒔 #edit: if you ever read any typos/grammar errors no you didn't bc i totally didn't finish this while doing an all-nighter 🙃 #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk thirsts #jjk imagines #jjk fanfic #jujutsu toji #toji #toji fushiguro #toji fushiguro smut #toji fushiguro x you #toji smut #toji x reader #toji x female reader #toji x y/n #toji fanfic #dilf toji #smut #fanfic #toji fanart #anime smut

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐎𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫 | Christmas

Feelings become warmer as the weather outside gets colder.

Tags/Warnings: Aged up!Jungkook, Younger!Reader, Age Gap (9 years, JK is mentioned to be 34/35), Angst, Mature romance, Jungkook's ex wife, fluff, flirty Jungkook, fluff!!, smut, Mutual masturbation, my heart is so full

Length: 4k words (oops)

There is no taglist for this fic.

-> Masterlist

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If you ask Jungkook what he’d like for Christmas, won’t the surprise be ruined?

Then again, what if he genuinely doesn’t want anything from you for such an intimate occasion? You’re not really the textbook definition of a couple after all, the dreaded ‘L’ word having never been spoken, so maybe that’s moving too quickly too soon.

Maybe just some sweets? But he seems rather conscious about his physique, maybe he won’t eat it because it doesn’t fit his diet or something. Wait, does he even diet? How come you never thought about that?

You whine loudly in your apartment, letting your head fall into your arms on the table as your laptop offers you no advice on what to do these days. Every question that’s similar to you always includes the mention of a sugar daddy situation or whatnot, or their partners are more than twenty years apart in age, and that’s just not your problem. Jungkook isn’t.. really your sugar daddy or anything. Sure he's been paying your rent, but he’s been doing that because he wants to- you’re offering him nothing in return, and neither does he ask for something.

What are you two, really?

Is he getting you something for Christmas? He seems awfully busy these days after having returned to work from his accident, despite doctor's advice to rest a few days longer. You’re not sure why he was so eager, but you guess that that’s just who he is.

You could ask Taehyung, but that guy could never keep a secret even if held at gunpoint. One stern look from his friend and he’d spill your plan, you’re sure of it- so who else could you ask?

You wonder if Evelyn ever got him anything for Christmas. You’d love to know just to have at least some sort of measurement to go for- but then again, maybe that’s not the best idea to get inspiration from his ex wife.

Something’s heard from your bathroom. You frown.

The moment you open it, water greets you- old washing machine having given up for real now this time, as it’s got just about half an hour left of the current program running, water seeping out from the side of the door. You quickly shut it off, ripping the plug out from the socket on the wall to at least not make an even worse mess, socks soaking up the soapy smelling water.

Great.

At least your mind’s been taken off of your earlier predicament by that.

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Jungkook sighs as he leans back in his office chair, reading over the schedules and meetings again and again. He needs to make sure everything’s alright before he announces his plans to the rest of the company, not wanting to cause trouble for the new year just because of his own selfish reasons.

His secretary brings in a few signed documents, smiling kindly. “everyone’s on board with the dates.” She offers, and Jungkook nods, taking the documents to check the signatures.

“Thank you. Could you file them for me?” he asks, and she nods as always, taking them back.

“and, your uhm.. Miss Evelyn is in the lobby again, asking for you.” She cringes out a smile, making Jungkook groan in dramatized pain as he throws his head back, flinching a bit from the sudden move.

“What the hell does she want?” He whines, making his secretary send him a shrug.

“she refused to tell, as always.” She sighs. “demanded to see you.”

“And I’m about to demand a restraining order..” he mumbles to himself, pinching the bridge of his nose. “send her up. We both know she’s not going to leave on her own accord.” He waves off, and his secretary bows politely before she disappears out of his office.

The second Evelyn enters, he’s feeling odd again. Like he’s just even more agitated to see her than normal.

“Why did you change the pass code on our apartment?” she demands to know, and Jungkook frowns harshly at that.

“Because you no longer live there, nor have any right to enter.” He explains. “what were you doing there in the first place?”

“You said I could have my Christmas party there?” she huffs, crossing her arms.

“I said that last year, because I was not in the country anyways. “ He sighs.

“so?” she wonders, caught off guard.

“so?” He parrots. “this year I’m spending Christmas home. And I no longer need the apartment- its been up for sale since June.”

“But I need it? And you shouldn’t be alone on Christmas anyways, you could’ve attended the party.” She says, walking closer now. “I know we no longer-“

“Who said I’m spending it alone?” He asks, arms crossed to block her off, leaving back in his office chair. “Evelyn, I’ve moved on. You should do the same.”

“You can’t be serious with that kid.” She scoffs. “Jungkook do you know how ridiculous you look? They’re talking about you, you know?” she complains.

“who? Your friends?” He asks. “as if they didn’t talk about me before.”

“That’s different.” She shakes her head. “You’re in your late thirties, Jungkook. She’s what, twenty? Is she even legal?” she laughs, but Jungkook doesn’t bite the bait.

She’s got no business with you.

“I can assure you that our relationship is that of two consenting adults.” He makes sure to pronounce. “and what I do or who I’m doing what with, is none of your business, and it hasn’t been since we divorced. A choice that you happily agreed to, might I add.” He says, hitting a sore spot for her. “I ask you to leave me alone one last time, Evelyn.”

“or what.” She sneers, leaning on his table now.

“the next time you overstep a boundary, no matter which, I will be speaking to you through legal means.” He simply answers. “if I can’t get through you, maybe my lawyer can.” He shrugs off.

“Jungkook I know we ended on not so great terms, but this is stupid.” She begs. “I told you we could try again-“

“Evelyn I’m in a relationship with this woman because I want to, not because I’m in some strange crisis over the loss of you.” He hisses. “not everything is always about you, get it through your head.” He shakes his head, before he gets up to open the door of his office. “and now leave. Or I will have someone help you with that.”

It's quiet, even some of the staff outside looking anxiously as to what’s about to happen, when Evelyn walks into the doorframe.

“I hope you come to your senses soon.” She sighs, disappointed. “before you hurt another woman.” She says, before she leaves, heels loud on the floor as they disappear along with her, leaving him to close his office, and sit back down.

He's not hurting you. He’d never.

He knows he’s been very lenient with Evelyn even long after they divorced, but that was because he truly didn’t care anymore. It didn’t matter, but these days, it does. He doesn’t want her in his life anymore, because that spot she was taking up is now filled with you-

And you fit it so much better than her.

He takes his phone out to call you- a strange urgency inside of him to hear your voice right now as the call is sent out, waiting to be picked up by you. When you do, you sound out of breath. “Hey.” You say, and he chuckles.

“You sound busy.” He greets. “is it a bad time?” He asks, and you don’t answer for a second.

“A little? Not really.” You sigh. “honestly I could use the distraction.” You laugh.

“What’s wrong?” He wonders, signing out of his work laptop.

“my washing machine broke. There’s soap everywhere!” You whine. “my apartment smells like a laundry service.” You complain.

“Is it bad?” He asks, shutting the lid of his laptop. “I can come over in like, half an hour and help you clean up. Did you turn it off?” He worries, getting up to walk over and turn off the AC.

“Yeah I.. pulled the plug in a panic.” You answer. “and no, it’s not… that bad, just my bathroom flooded, it’s already draining.” You sigh. “don’t worry.”

“Hm, too late.” He teases. “I’ll come over as soon as I get out of here, okay?” He asks.

“Alright, but I’m not letting you do much anyways.” You say. “I’m still upset you went to work already.”

“I know.” He agrees, looking out the tall windows for a moment. “thank you for worrying about me.”

It’s quiet for a moment, and he’s wondering if you hung up- when you answer, softly.

“of course.” You say. “that’s what.. you know.. people like us do.” You say.

“people like us?” He wonders.

“Yeah. People who.. like each other.” You tell him.

“I think our feelings extend that of.. liking a little, don’t you think?” He chuckles.

“Maybe?” You ask. “I’m not sure. Like, I feel.. a lot more than just like I like you, but, you know..”

“I’ve not been very clear, haven’t I.” He sighs. “I’m sorry. I’m.. a bit out of practice you could say.” He apologizes.

“No, no its fine.” You wave him off. “just… we’ll figure it out, I’m sure.” You encourage- both of you, in a way.

“I’m sure of that too.” He agrees. “text me what you’d like to eat later. I’ll pick up some food on the way over to you.” He offers.

“Will you stay over?” You wonder.

“Do you want me to?” He asks.

“…yes.” You answer, for the first time actually requesting something from him. “I want you to stay.” You say, and he can feel his heart beat faster, louder.

“Then I’ll stay.” He answers.

Unaware that after you end the call, you’re squealing into your hands like a teenage girl, while he hides his face behind his own hand, a little overwhelmed by it all.

This truly feels like love.

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“The sealing around the door has become loose.” Jungkook mentions as he inspects the old machine for what might’ve caused the soapy disaster, sleeves of his white button up rolled up to his elbows as he finds the issue. “You can just buy a new one, but to be honest, I’d rather you have an entirely new machine.” He shakes his head, leaning back on his heels where he sits on the bathroom floor. “this thing is over ten years old.”

“But they’re expensive..” you huff. “and it’s still working though?” You wonder.

“Sure, but it’s not efficient. It’s too costly to run it.” He shrugs. “what you’re saving in not getting a new one, you basically throw out every time you use it.” He explains. “I’ll buy you a new one, it’s really no big deal.” Jungkook offers as he gets up, moving to dry his hands with a towel. “For now you can wash your stuff at my house. I don’t mind at all.”

You wonder. Does he really not mind?

You’ve only spent a little less than a week at his house, but it felt a little strange. Like he was a guest in his own home the entire time. He didn’t know where certain things were, other stuff like cooking utensils seemed way too new to be used.

“What’re you thinking about?” He wonders, walking up to you to move your hands, lifting them onto his shoulders in a request to have you hug him. His own palms find their resting place on your waist, swaying you a little to the slow beat of the TV playing a Christmas commercial.

“Nothing.” You deny, hands moving to play with the short hairs on his neck.

“liar.” He accuses. “What’s on your mind?”

“Christmas?” You burst out, before you shake your head, Jungkook looking at you a bit confused. “I- I mean, do you want to.. maybe spend, you know, a day of Christmas with me?” You ask, meekly so, averting eye contact. “we could I don’t know.. bake something or..” fuck, you think. Baking?! How childish is that-

“I’d love to.” He answers, an oddly shy grin on his face as he looks at you with eyes sparkling. “I’ve never done that before.” He admits.

“never?” You ask, and he shakes his head. “what do you.. how do you usually spend Christmas?” You ask, and he shrugs.

“I don’t.”

What?

“Evelyn held her Christmas parties, but I’m not a very social guy. So I usually worked during the holidays to escape the whole trouble.” He chuckles.

“Oh.” You simply say, unsure now. You didn’t really think about the possibility of him not wanting to celebrate Christmas at all.

“But, I’d like to have a.. quiet Christmas.” He says suddenly, stepping closer to you. “with you.”

“Oh?” You wonder, finding his gaze again.

“If you’ll have me, that is.” He shrugs. “I’m not upset if you say it’s.. too fast too soon.”

Your lips part-

Before you laugh, tearfully, hiding in his chest as you begin to cry a little. He’s not sure what’s wrong, all he can offer a hand in your back as he lets you calm down.

“I’m sorry- I don’t know why I’m crying.” You laugh, wiping your eyes. “its just- I was.. I was thinking the same. The whole week.” You confess, tired of keeping it all in. “I was stressing- I want to, I want to do so many things now because I feel like I finally have a person to do them with, but I’m worried I might be doing too much now and-“

“Hey.” He says, helping you breathe for a second as he holds your face, cheeks in his palms. “Thank you so much.” He answers.

“..what?” You wonder, sniffling.

“For telling me. For.. trusting me.” He simply answers, wiping your tears. “I thought christmas presents are meant to be given on the 24th?” He chuckles, and you laugh along.

“I was actually wondering what to get you.. if you even want anything..” you shrug, looking down now.

“it really doesn’t matter.” He confesses. “You can simply.. spend that day with me, and I’m happy.”

“But, can I give you a present?” you ask, and he nods.

“if you want to, of course.” He accepts. “I.. actually have a bit of a confession of my own.” He laughs a bit shy now, sitting down on the couch with you. “I’ve worked a bit overtime. To.. do something special, not just for us, but the company as well.” He shrugs. “and you’re the main reason for it.

“Huh?” You wonder, as he opens his phone, showing some of his emails coming in.

All of them are replies to a Company schedule he’s sent out- and all of the preview texts are a variation of gratitude towards it.

“I’ve given most of the company the option to take the holidays off.” He says. “it’s not much- just the last two weeks of December, but.. it felt right.”

“How am I the reason for that?” You wonder.

“You made me realize that there’s.. things more important than work sometimes.” He shrugs, locking his phone to put it on the small coffee table. “I have so many fathers and mothers in my company. Just because I didn’t have children, or a family or just a single person to spend those days with, I never thought about them potentially needing those days off.” He shakes his head. "and if I take those days off to be with.. my own family, why not give them the option as well?” He offers. “it’s only Fair.”

“Do you never visit your parents?” You ask, unsure.

“not really. I didn’t want them to.. ask questions.” He chuckles. “when are the grandkids coming, why is your wife never here, all that.” He laughs. “Eve.. never visited my family much.”

“That sounds like she never really cared much about the holidays.” You mumble.

“She did.” Jungkook denies. “she just didn’t care about me.”

For a moment, you’re quiet- before you jump over your shadow, boldly leaning over to peck his lips, making him almost chase after you a little.

“Well, I care about you.” You confess-

And at that, he truly can’t help but lean over to kiss you properly, eagerly, to make up for the lack of words he’s able to find.

Whatever this is, he no longer cares. He just wants to keep it close, never lose it, bind you to him and have you sheltered in his own home to never have to face any bad things the world seems to throw your way ever again.

“I care about you too.” He breathes against your lips, keeping you close, hands on your waist happily welcoming you onto his lap. It’s the first time he’s seemingly demanding now- taking the upper hand as he encourages the movements of your hips grinding on him with a bit of hesitance.

He'd love to take you, right now, right here- but he also doesn’t have any protection with him.

Maybe he should always have one on hand when meeting you. His hunger is starting to grow with each time he has you, after all. “we don’t.. “ you breathlessly try and argue, as he leans hisnhead into the crook of your neck, kissing the skin. “I have no-“

“Figured.” He chuckles. “Do you want to stop?” He asks, leaning back to look at you.

“I mean.. we have to..” you shrug, and he can see the slight disappointment in your face as you try and adjust yourself.

“Not really.” He shrugs. “There’s more to sex than.. just that, after all.” He suggests, and you look at him, before your eyes can’t help but travel a bit, unsure. Of course he’d be more experienced than you- he’s got a lot more time to have been fooling around after all, and you’re not at all upset at that-

You’re just a bit.. pressured now. What if he thinks you’re boring if he realizes that your past sexual experiences have been.. standard at best?

“don’t feel like you have to.” He makes sure to tell you, and you nod.

“I do want to.” You confess, and even thought you can’t look at him, he still thinks it’s a huge step for you to even reveal this. “I just.. it’s like the Christmas situation, you know?” You shrug. “I want to do so much but, I also worry I might be overwhelming, or that I screw things up and then you got excited for nothing-“

“Hey.” He chuckles, holding your face in his hands again, pecking your lips. “let’s agree that we will probably not get everything right all the time.” He tells you. “we’ll both screw up. I’ll do something that going to make you upset, you’ll do something that’ll make me upset. That’s called living together.” He laughs. “But I’m convinced that we’ll figure it out.”

“Why?” You ask, looking at him- surprised to see his eyes swimming with emotions, not used to seeing him so vulnerable.

“Because I want to believe.” He answers, voice barely anything above a whisper.

And it makes you realize that it’s not just you who got attached. He’s obviously just as invested in you as you are in him, and maybe, just maybe, you’ve never really thought about that. About his worries, what he might fear, what he struggles with. For you, he’s always been that person who has full control over everything.

But can you control who you fall in love with?

“Then..” you adjust your position a little, before you start to play with the buttons of his shirt. “I’ll believe in it, too.”

The kiss you’re offering is gentle, it’s a promise given, and also something more than that. You’re giving yourself to him with this, trusting him to both care for you- but also accepting his trust to handle him with just as much care. You feel sorry for not understanding his situation sooner, but you do now- and it makes a lot of things look a lot less scary.

Living together means making mistakes. And loving each other means working through those mistakes.

You’re moved by his hands to sit on his thigh instead, hips moving over the muscles beneath his pants, while your hands have undone his shirt by now, causing him to shiver a bit, both from the cool touch of your fingers, but also from the gentle manner in which you treat him.

He feels valued. Cherished.

Loved.

The moment your hand undoes his belt to gain access to what’s beneath, his kisses grow more heated, needy almost, his own hands guiding your hips over his leg. But he needs more, moves your legs again to straddle him once more, one of his hands easily slipping into your underwear to find you more than just a little affected.

There’s frustration in him. A need.

He really needs to start carrying a condom around for situations like this.

And it’s obvious this stress is shared by you, if the expression you have and the way you shamelessly run into his fingers are anything to go by. But it’ll have to do, he doesn’t want to risk things, and considering that he’ll spend Christmas with you anyways, it’s not like this is the last time he’ll ever see you.

And he can’t deny that your hands make him feel good enough already.

Mostly because it’s yours that touch him- the emotional connection you both have established at this point making him feel even more sensitive to every form of affection you offer. He feels comfortable and frankly safe enough to let himself fall into your arms freely- trusting you enough that you’ll catch him, just as much as he’d always catch you.

Your hands aren’t even on him- his underwear still between your fingers and his very obvious election, and yet he’s sure he could cum from this alone. You’re clearly chasing your own high as well by now, head leaned on his shoulder, soft whines beneath your heavy breaths causing him to twitch in your hands.

It's when two fingers slip inside you that you become restless, hands on him moving with more urgency as he plays your body like an instrument he’s been professionally trained in. Thumb flicking over your sensitive bud, slick making an almost obscene sound, but it oddly adds to the intimacy of it all.

This is your moment. No one can take this from you.

Your hands stutter a bit in their movements as you reach your peak, but you push though nonetheless to push him over the edge as well- a very particular movement as your fingers trace his outline making him spill, seed staining the fabric of his underwear a darker shade of its grey color.

It's quiet as you catch your breaths, his hand lazily wiping itself on your cotton shorts.

“You want to come to my place for tonight?” He whispers, slowly calming down again.

“Cause you need to change?” You tease, and he chuckles.

“That too.” He admits. “but mostly because I don’t want to sleep without you tonight.” He tells you, leaning over to kiss your cheek. “we could.. uhm. You know, the stores are still open.” He mumbles a bit more hesitant now, as you open your eyes to look at him. “if you.. want to help decorate the house with me.” He tells you almost incoherently.

Just for you to grin brightly, giggling happily into the crook of his neck.

“I’d love to.”

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts jungkook imagine #bts smut #bts jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #bts jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagines #jungkook imagines #jeon jungkook smut #bts jeon jungkook imagine

[astralnymphh]

rouge cherries, lace panties 𖤐 | ellie williams

☠︎︎࿐-ˊˎ farm!ellie x fem!reader

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

✧˖ ° 🕯 bright blessings!

AN: a bit more simpler, lazier and shorter fic, might take a break after this but i grant you with sumn from my favorite ellie era at least!! cw/tags: NSFW 18+ MDNI! proposal, picnic, somewhat proofread, sexual jokes, takes place before santa barbara, sucking on fingers(almost choking on them), fingering (receiving), almost-oral (receiving), dirty talk, doing the deed in nature. WC: 4.2k designated song: sugar- she wants revenge

synopsis; you and ellie have been living on this farm for at least a year now, tucked in the towering mountains of wyoming and just a quaint trek from jackson. just you and her. you, her, the sun, and the moon. what could today entail? what makes this midsummer's day so special?

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

it's another day on the farm, yet like no other. it's harvest season, and your crops have got you cut out of your day and preoccupied. plucking fruit and tugging vegetables from the lavish soil in your garden with a certain ellie onlooking from your dusty oak porch. she's observing you in your most natural nature, tending to your art, the garden, and supplying you with a bountiful reaping of food for the inbound month.

there lay a tract of terrain beyond your fences, this beautiful pasture gilded in a magnificent solar ray every afternoon, and ellie's got an itching to bring you there today. with your knees sewn in the dirt surrounding a planter bed, wicker basket beside you and snapping blueberries off their stems, it's got you in a pretty tranquil state that doesn't include the awareness of ellie watching. so when dual warm hands plant on your biceps, it jolts you by instinct.

"how's the harvest babe?" ellie's silhouette looms over you and the berry bush, eyeing the pile of blueberries cradled in the basket, "looks good, when will you be done though, d'you think?" a smirk adorns her lips.

"umm.." your fingers pinch a lone berry, "I haven't gotten to the vegetables yet.." you remind her and yourself, rolling the navy berry between your fingertips.

ellie crouches behind you, "do you haaave to harvest everything now?" she whines, wrapping her lithe arms around your shoulders akin to a sloth and rocking you along with her see-saw motion.

"yes els, if you want food." a quaint giggle erupts from your chest. 

"but we have food, babe. our pantry is full of it." ellie attempts to coax you, voice pitching at the brink of her sentence. her lips brush the hairs on your nape and leave damp marks of adoration.

"did you come out here just to distract me?" your mouth creeps into a sheepish smirk, extending your hand out to pluck the last cluster of berries.

"you can tell me to stop." her pecks don't falter, dotting the length of your placid shoulders, "should I stop?" the question phases through you like a tantalizing breeze.

a melody thrums from your hum, eyes drifting closed in the blissfulness that is her velvety lips, puckering against your jawline and tickling your skin slightly with her hair. 

"els! that tickles.." you shrug your shoulder against your ear, nudging ellie's face off.

"so.. stop?" she reiterates and streams her steady palms down upon your hips.

you plant two cupped hands over her legs that now settle on both sides of you, whirling slowly to face her and furrowing your brows, "you're a menace. what happened to your little art project you started this morning?" 

"well, I saw my wife working outside and just had to join." she draws out an emphasis.

"wife? wife? we aren't married."

"not like we can have a wedding, so I just declare it." her lips resume to your neck, chafing that earthy auburn hair against your cheek.

"you didn't even propose or anything." 

"'chn ch-nge th-t." ellie's speech muffles in your collar, tender grips hugging the crests of your hips.

you don't catch her inaudible words, "huh?" you question, grasping the woven handle of your basket and returning it to your line of sight beside ellie's splayed leg.

"nothin'." her raspy voice clarifies as her head peeks up, melting foreheads and poking nose tips together.

you connect constellations dotting her cinnamon freckles with your eyes, trickling down and charting her coral lips. a smile tints yours, whispering, "what'd you wanna do today?"

"hmm?" her visage turns bumbled, "I never mentioned any-"

"you always bother me when y'want to do something.." you interrupt her, earning a hung-open-jaw look from her as she withdraws from your space.

she heaves, yet a cheeky nasal-lined smile summons on her midface, "you.. know that clearing in the woods, back there?" she juts her head in a vague direction, thumb swiping over her bottom lip.

you glimpse at the distant fence ellie points her head to and nod in understanding.

her hand lands on her thigh, "why don't we have a picnic there?" she offers, prodding your elbow with her raised knee.

"you trynna woo me, els?" you tease, easing your hand on her swaying knee.

"baabbee.." she whines, pleading for an answer that sounds a lot like 'yes'.

her whining casts a reminisce to this morning, you clawing your way out of bed, sorry, out of her locked embrace as you tried to prepare for the day. her tousled auburn hair buried in your chest, fingers drawing shapes on your back, pressing her bare torso against your side and begging for you to stay in bed.

"baabbbee.." her soft wail echoed.

"ellie, I gotta get up." her ardent skin was caressing yours and legs intertwined in a knot.

"nuh-uh, no you're not." ellie snorted and further tightened her bear hug to your demise.

"baby, we needa get out of bed, it's harvest day." you coaxed with a cherished kiss to her crown, weaseled only an inch from her before you got lulled back in.

her lengthy limbs, damn those things, can trap you well and remain unmoving. she only wore her nude toned underwear to bed last night, and you a lace panty. not a moment of your memory is blurred, in fact, what took place last night was well etched in your brain. ellie reeks of sex and so do you, she has traces of jasper red scratches on her back to prove it.

"need you babe.." she reaches for your furled hand, sowing soft and needy kisses on your knuckles.

you sighed and just gave up, curled your body with her and combed solace rows into her jumbled mullet.

"so, what do you say?" her voice in reality reels you in, breaking your chain of rememberance.

you take a gander at her features momentarily before deciding, "yes- sure, picnic sounds good." without hesitation.

"good, cause I'm fuckin' famished." ellie's face slants towards yours, her devious fingers slithering beside her, snatching up a blueberry and popping it in her mouth.

you spot this in your peripherals, "ey! don't eat my berries!" you chuckled.

"your berries? there's only one- two berries of yours that I know of, I'm actually quite acquainted-"

you lightly smack the silly smirk off her lips, fraudly disgusted by her immaturity, "you're so inappropriate!"

"not like anyone's gonna hear.." she ovalizes her lips and gusts the linear bang from her cheek.

"you're weird." you roll your eyes prior to standing up with the scratchy basket handle tucked in your elbow.

ellie follows suit, her hand wrapping and clutching yours loosely, "c'mon, I'll help you make the food." her stature stands a few inches above you, wriggling her bottom lip to the side in a crooked peculiar smile that invites those signature dimples to play.

you shun your pupils to the back of your head, giving her the once-over before pacing through the backdoor with her all giddy in hand.

♡

the iridescent glade comes into view as you're strolling towards it, ellie adjacent to you equipped with a basket in hand and worn out bookbag on her back. you haven't ventured into the woods much after moving here, but with no signs of infected in months you simply deem it safe. she hasn't taken you out like this anyways, not for a while. the last time was her birthday, since it only occurs on special occasions, so why today?

ellie fashions a proud smile shrouded by you being slightly ahead of her, definitely holding hands but you're too thrilled to explore this parcel of forest to take notice. she wore joel's buckskin leather jacket over a plaid shirt, usual jeans with slits in them and sturdy brown boots.

"hurry up babe! I can see it already.." you exclaim with a bounce to your step, swinging her arm around to usher her feet swifter.

a laugh enchants her, "i'm right behind you.. the spots' not goin' anywhere." she assures you calmly trailing a chuckle, but inside, her heart is blooming with beats and sending shrills of tension through her nerves. her mind was up to something.

"it's right there!" you steam off a squeal of elation just seeing the open pasture. the grass is of a radiant jade shade, smothered in a divine ray of sun casting down on it, it looks like it came straight from elysian fields itself. you tear from ellie's hold and dash towards the glade with eagerness.

"babe!" ellie shouts but not without a following chuckle, adoring the pure felicity you expressed brought by this mere sight of nature. she trots after you with a bit of struggle from all the baggage she carried.

you halt just as you reach the center of the glade, staring at the trees surrounding and the canopy provided by their outstretching branches creating crown shyness, all with a bright beam spread across your lips.

ellie catches up with you and sets the basket on the ground, observing the space in detail, "y'want it right here?" she peels the bookbag from her shoulders and tosses it to the grass.

"mhm.." you pump your head in agreement and swivel away from her, admiring the spires of bark and fauna that look like they came from a painting.

she unzips the bag in one swoosh, yanking out a slightly frayed, faded and old beige cotton blanket with little embroidered florals along the hem. ellie dusts it off and thrashes out all the crinkles, laying it flat against the earth and smoothing out all the ripples.

you tilt your head over to witness her squatting down, pulling various objects from the bag and hesitating before she places them down. she appeared to be deep in thought, decorating the empty canvas of a blanket like it was important to her.

ellie's forehead tauts, an arrangement of fine china at her feet, "does this plate look better here.. or here?" her voice chromatically turns gravelly.

"it looks good anywhere.."

"yeah- but I want it to look perfect for you." 

"..." you stare with an amused grin.

"hmm, what's so funny?" she coos and hones her focus on you while carefully tossing the plate to one corner of the blanket.

"just you.. you're goofy." you comment with a dim-witted smile.

her gaze narrows and bares her teeth in a matching dumb smirk, tutting her head, "you wanna see goofy?" she challenges you and crawls closer.

"no, I wanna see a set-up picnic. don't get distracted." you tease and parry her with a nudge from your foot resting on her collarbone.

"tch, okay- okay." she leans back on her heel, hastily creating the idyllic picnic with your help. 

soon, you're cuddling between some small pillows, bowl of dark rosewood cherries to your right and a knitted blanket draped over your bodies. 

ellie lies beneath you, her legs cradling yours and advancing her fingers to the bowl of delectable cherries. she picks one up and hovers it above your lips, beckoning you to bite it. 

"what d'you mean we can't get more sheep?" she wheezes a whimsical laugh, chest jittering underneath your back.

"we already have a dozen, babe." you sink your teeth into the cherry and yank it from the stem, juices oozing over the hill of your chin.

"i have more names for them in mind!"

"you can't even get the names of our current sheep right." 

she flicks the leftover stem into the patch of grass, "uh- yes I can!" she scoffs and jossles her woody auburn locks up a bit.

"sure babe." you goggle.

you allow the conversation to diminish in peaceful serenity, before raising the interrogation, "why'd you bring me here today?" you shuffle atop her, jabbing her palm to keep feeding you. you're spoiled.

ellie snickers and leverages her hand towards the bowl once again, dangling a cherry from between her fingertips. her throat gritts harshly as she clears it, "i.. have something to show you.." her tone lingers on the vowels.

"oh?" a hint of subtle enthusiasm curls in your voice, "got me a present?"

"you'll see, just- get up." she heaves you upwards and hops onto her feet alongside you.

you clasp hands behind your back, a bit of a bumbled facade shadowing your expression when she just stands still like a statue. "umm.. is it not a present?"

"turn around." her lips curve into a mischievous glint across those pretty rosy lips.

"what the fuck are you gonna pull-"

"turn around!" ellie's grin broadens as she gestures to you to spin 'round on your heel, eliciting a dorky giggle from you.

you cave in and twirl on the tip of your shoe, mindlessly gazing heavenward to the scattered wisping clouds.

"you remember the day we started dating?" her voice flows past you, seeming to erupt from a lower stance like she was crouched.

"uh, vaguely." 

this bestows a throaty chuckle from ellie, "and you remember what I gave you when I.. confessed?" 

"yeah, you gave me bent daisies that you tore from the poor ground." you bash her, one brow inclining up your head.

"i'm not a botanist." she nicks the rear of your ankle, shambling against the fabric-veiled grass.

a tingle sprints up your leg at this contact, making you shy away from it slightly. a specter of stillness corrodes the air, so you perk, "can I turn now?"

"yes." ellie's speech trembles yet is laced with certainty, planting a seed of curiosity in your noggin.

you teeter over slowly like a creaking wheel, pupils hastening down to materialize ellie in your mind, propped by a knee, the other raised, pinching a tiny flock of daisies with their honey pistils staring back at you. her face bruising of an apple hue to her skin behind those sun specks, her verdant rings peering from those lashes and a brazen half-moon to her strawberry lips. they part as the realization begins to plague you,

"will you be my wife?"

your body goes hollow and nerves wrack up in shock, an elusive beam of emotions vibrate in your heart and collide your shaken knees to the blanket. a hand quivers against your mouth, the words stolen from you. the love just boils over.

"els- i.. i.." the boulder in your throat clogs, managing to swallow it up and brim you with warm tears, "yes.. yes!"

she practically springs up and coalesces with you, arms wrapped around you and elevating you off the ground with blazing elation. you feel her wide smile plastered against your lips as they make merry, smoothing out to drag her lips over yours in a fervid kiss.

she parts, "no ring but.. we don't need that, right?" 

"mhm, don't need it.." you sever your weight from your feet to her, sticking close, "I love you.. so much." 

"love' you too baby.." she hankers down and sits criss-cross in front of you, easing you into her splayed lap. "now i can call you my wife."

"should we have our own little wedding? just us, like, as if it's some ritual or.. stating our vows or.. handfasting and declaring our love before empty seats.." you ramble nonsensically, assuming it just whooshes right over ellie's head.

"we have our picnic here," she opens her arms to signify the space around you, "we can tie that all up here, including the honeymoon!"

"hmm, 'weird that you mention the honeymoon. I think you said that so it happens now."

"no! I'm just.. throwing stuff to see what sticks.." she diffuses a dumb visage, knitting her brows together.

"i think you wanna get a fuck on in the forest." you leer in your suspicions and creep over her body till' she meets back to ground.

"and if you guess right? would you?" her demeanor shifts to boot a seductive one.

ellie still had some drive in her, even to last night's depictions. the way her lean vein lined arms are still pumping with detectable lust, yearning for your body in ways that should be bound to the bedroom only, but she doesn't give a fuck. she needs to fuck. a fucking given to her. 

"fuck yes I will." you grind your pelvis longingly on her thigh, kneading your confined bud in one long swipe, a good start-up.

not an inhale later and ellie already has her jacket reeled off by the sleeves, a series of stripping set in motion when her shirt's buttons get popped one by one.

you follow through with one sweep of your top over your crown, tethering the bare skin surrounding your bra to the midsummer breeze, giving you a hare of raised bumps that are quickly cured by ellie's ardent skin adjoining yours. 

her lips suture themselves to your plender gap, lapping at the groove of your collarbone delicately while her keen hands roam your legs, squeezing the soft plush padding of your inner and outer thigh with her fingers.

"I'm gonna make you feel.. s'fuckin' good.." she whispers in hushed mists of heat, sanguineous nibbles forging up your chin and gluing your lips together in a lustful frenzy.

"I need you ellie.. now.." you intone against her captivating lips and take hold of her wrist, guiding it to cusp your bra-clad breast.

"so bold of you.." she rewards a praise, tucking her nimble fingers behind the clasp of your bra and pinching it free. her hands tug the straps from your arms and whisk them away to some unknown plot of grass. 

the course of wind grazes past your nipples, making you shiver. you watch her pupils dilate at the sight of your two perky buds reacting to the breeze.

"mm- fuck.. love these." ellie's mouth latches to one of your breasts, suckling the nipple lavishly with a damp suction and playing the other one like a flip-switch lightly with her thumb.

the barely-there feeling of her thumb summons a flurry of carnal want in your core, preluding to your now lubricious panties sopping for physical attention. this seeps through and forms a miniscule spotting on your inseam.

the hand that still had a gripe on your thigh fleets to your crotch, distinguishing this faint blot of wetness, welcoming a proud smirk to dent her midface, "fuckin' wet already.." her voice rasps hauntingly, "gonna get my fingers all pruney.." 

you chafe in desire against her stationary digits, making her snatch them away and repel your pelvis with a push.

"nuh-uh, pants off first."

her face displaces from your hanging breasts, creasing the blanket back up and crunching the grass to gaze back at you. she peruses your zipper and deftly unfastens it to pull your pants down with a might. once they're off, her hands zip into the underside of your knees, flipping you over and mountaineering over you with an undeniable hunger in her manner.

"ellie!" an entranced giggle beams from your throttle, low-key turned on by the daring action.

"god, really soaked these huh?" her voice flows in a higher pitch, referring to your ocean-drowned underwear.

"yeah.. you did that.." 

"mhmmm~” she vocalizes behind shut lips, “don't think I even need to remove 'em to taste you.." 

you witness her descending into the depths between your legs, biting down her cushiony lips and nearly salivating at the front-row seat view to your sobbing cunt. her own arousal starts to stain her own panties and even little riffs of repressed whimpers vibrate from her lips. she graces you with one pour-over before smashing her mouth against your clothed slit, puffing a humid cloud over your entrance and licking up the seeped puddle of slick.

you jerk in sudden sensation, "babe! oh~ fuck!"

"yup, tastes so fucking good." she's like a beast to your crotch, slathering the soiled fabric with even more wetness likes she's fucking starving. her forehead is taut and eyebrows flit in concentration, you can already hear the eulogy ringing for your soon destroyed pussy.

your fingers nest in her hair, massaging and stamping into her scalp at the pure feeling of her tongue, you need her in indescribable ways, "need your fingers ellie.. need u're.. need.." you chant in fleeing breaths.

she grumbles in swelling arousal and unlatches from your puffy slit, brazen giggle chilling her throat at the sight of your avidness.

she huffs, "kay, gonna take these off.." ellie anticipates the moment she gets to stuff your pretty pussy to the brim, drowsy eyes never drifting from the lace concave between the valley of your lips. she slews those panties off instantly and brings them down to your ankles, making sure they'd never be found among the meadow around you.

you spread your legs for her sights to soak in, burgeoning a redness to her face like time and time again, a satisfied grin tugging the corners of her lips.

she sticks two ready fingers in her mouth, moistened them up, "gonna make you see stars, hmm babygirl?" 

you gnaw your lips inwards at her affirmation, eyeing the route her hand takes from mouth to lower regions, forking your slit open and running them clit to hole, hole to clit, repetitively. this coats her digits in a glistening film of your arousal, visibly pleasing her.

"mm- that fucking sound.." the parting of your drenched folds entices her ears like a melody, "hear that baby?" ellie's voice chimes in a honeyed whisper.

"yes.. yes.." your essence shudders in her thrall, vulnerability afflicted by your neediness.

ellie beholds your figure in one final glance before aiming on your center and jamming duo digits in your aching pussy that vacuums her up with the help of your dripping nectar overflowing at the base of her knuckles. you wallow in the gratifying gauge she has brought you to, a fluxing whine tinting your tongue.

"good girl.. taking my fingers in so nicely.."

you contract around her, letting her know how much those words truly thrill you and she rebounds by thrusting her fingers in and out of you at a sluggish pace.

your jaw quivers open in the whirling ecstasy that begins to dribble into your void brain strictly honed on the pumping motion of her willowy fingers.

"hmm.." a visualization prompt in her noggin convinces a plan to unravel by her hand snailing to your mouth, luring it ajar, "open babe." 

you obey with moving lips, flattening the plateau of your tongue beneath her fingers.

"like this don't you? mm- fuck." ellie grunts seeing you engulf her paired index and middle in your warm mouth without a gloom of delay splitting your will. her other fingers meddle with the crux of your delight, sloshing with every insert of her lengthy fingers piping you.

"oh my heaven on eart- auck.." a spastic cough tickles your throat around her digits.

"just suck baby.. just suck." 

you resolve your words and pucker your lips down, swirling your tongue around her still fingers. muffled vibrations of moans string out around them, rattling your teeth.

each flick of her skilled wrist occurs in short breaks, meanwhile pumps hasten inside of you, thumb unfurling to patten down your clit in rigid circles. she coos, "gonna cum on my fingers?" in reply to your writhing contentment.

"fast- fhster.." you shear your chords forcing a plead on fingers narrowly itching the back of your gullet.

"awhh, u're such a mess." her hand forceps your jaw, locking her fingers wedged between your front teeth.

"guh- mmmm!" your body shrivels in unfathomable bliss and an inbound phantom orgasm overwhelming your senses.

ellie starts snapping her hand at an aggressive velocity that slaps against your swollen folds with wet smacks striding the open air, scrunching her nose up at the sheer speed she’s going.

"cum baby- cum.." 

"I- ahh.."

"soak my fuckin' fingers, soak them in that pretty fucking pussy." she encourages in husky mewls, finger pads jostling your g-spot in a rhythm that drugs your mind with numbness, repeating, "cum for ellie.. cum for me.." 

you swear your walls convulse prior to tightening up like a wringed towel and releasing a stinging orgasm upon you, growling on her fingers still present on your tongue.

"ghnnnn.. fck!" you curl up in pleasure and screw your eyes shut. this orgasm hits you like a bullet train and it shows in practice, clawing and digging your mark on ellie's available wrist with clamoring wails from the sanctum of your chest.

"yeah? so fucking hot.." she notes to herself in a low navelly tone, slipping her sticky fingers out trickling in your juices.

you chase your breath stranded in another galaxy, "can't feel my.. legs.. fuck, ellie, where'd you come from?" you quip in emphasis, face still beating red like a volcano.

"from boston, precisely." she sneaks in a dorky response.

"shut up.." you knock on her head with your foot, gasping when she grabs it and plants it on her shoulder.

she bucks her hips into your ass, squeezing her torso between the basin of your legs, levitating overhead. there's a solace moment of a love-staring-contest casting those green circlets infused with devotion and appreciation. staring back up into those eyes assures you, she's home, she's heaven and she's never leaving you. although, ellie, like the freak she is, breaks the innocent moment, "think this'll continue in the bedroom?." she peppers a solemn kiss to your forehead hazed in underlying intention.

"probably, knowing you."

"knowing me what?"

"you know." 

"I don't."

"ellie!"

"we'll find out, hmm?" ☆

hope u enjoyed!! ☆ MASTERLIST!!!!

#ellie williams smut #ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie williams fic #ellie williams x fem!reader #ellie x reader #lesbian #sapphic #the last of us #the last of us 2 #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams x reader #ellie the last of us #tlou part 2 #tlou #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams x you #farm!ellie #farm!ellie x reader

[forays-into-fiction]

Bambi

Eddie thinks he’ll be the one to corrupt her, little does he know she’s already kinkier and more depraved than his wildest dreams.

Eddie x Bambi Masterlist

Minors DNI

I keep getting carried away with these, this is over 7000 words! I tried to balance fluffy, sweet and goofy with filthy, smutty and kinky, hopefully I pulled off the combo and it’s not too cringy lol.

@hard-candy-writing​ is to blame for this one, she put the idea in my head with this post and I just ran with it. It’s maybe not quite exactly the same as that post, but still in the same spirit. Also, check out her fics too they’re brilliant!

Contains: Perv!Eddie/Not So Innocent!Girly!Reader, Fluff, Mutual Masturbation, Corruption Kink, Unprotected Sex, Sex Toys, Bondage/Handcuffs, Mentions of Oral/Hints of Oral Fixation, Cum Eating, Dirty Talk, Honorifics/ Petnames (Sir, Bambi, Baby, Sweetheart, Princess), Collaring, Praise Kink, The Slightest Degredation/Name-calling (Slut), Dom!Eddie/Sub!Reader

You practically skip over to his table where he sits surrounded by the rest of the Hellfire Club. Eddie can’t imagine what you’d want with him as you approach him, all frills and ruffles, your hair tied into pigtails with little bows. You come to stand beside him bouncing on the balls of your feet, hands clasped together in front of you over your little, pleated snow-white skirt.

“Hi Eddie!” Your tone sweet as sugar, giving him a bright, dazzling smile.

“Uh… hi there, sweetheart. What can I do for you?” He asks, eyeing you quizzically.

“I was wondering if you’d wanna go out for milkshakes with me?” You ask shyly glancing down, toying with the charm bracelet around your wrist. What Eddie doesn’t realise though, is that your eyes end up glued to his little handcuff belt buckle as your mind races… wondering if he’d have an actual set of cuffs or if that was just part of his ‘style’.

He looks at you sceptically, “Me? You wanna go out… with me?” he points to his chest.

You look back up at him giggling, “Duh, silly that’s why I asked you.”

“Really? This isn’t some kind of joke or something?” His eyes narrow at you.

It breaks your heart to hear him say that, “Of course not, that would be horrible! I would never do that!” You insist, pouting at him.

“Alright. If you say so.” He shrugs, still can’t believe his ears.

“Ok, so I guess I’ll meet you by your van after school?”

“Yeah, sure.” He replies unconvinced.

“Ok, well bye guys! See you later Eddie!” You wave to the group before bouncing away.

He spends the whole day thinking this had to be some sort of prank, there’s no way you’d actually be waiting for him. But lo and behold there you are leaning against the side of his van at the end of the day, he watches as you bend to peer in a sidemirror, reapplying your lip-gloss and smacking your lips.

As you stand back upright you catch sight of him, grinning and waving with your arm stretched up high, calling his name excitedly. He almost has to pinch himself, he can’t believe his eyes.

“So… milkshakes, was it?” He confirms as he approaches you.

“Yes, please.” You nod hopping into his van as he holds the door open for you.

The pair of you sit in the diner in a booth opposite one another, he orders chocolate, you order strawberry. When your milkshakes arrive, topped with whipped cream and cherries, Eddie picks his cherry off placing it beside his glass on a napkin. 

You pluck the cherry off of yours popping it between your lips, humming in delight, “Mmmh, my favourite.” Then swiping a finger through the cream and sucking it off the tip. 

Eddie gapes at you, you can’t know what you’re doing right, there’s no way, but you barely notice his reaction. You eye his cherry greedily, “You gonna eat that?” You point to it.

Eddie chokes in response, “Nope… uh, all yours.”

“Thanks.” You reply swooping in to steal it off his napkin without hesitation.

He’d never tell you, but he’d actually been saving the cherry for last.

He soon finds that there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for his little princess. All too quickly becoming your personal chauffeur anywhere you wanted to go. He’d even let you listen to all your girly pop music, just to see how happy it made you. Not that he’d ever even pretend to like it, but he tolerates it, for you.

Until one day when you suggest, “Hey, Eds. Why don’t we listen to some of your music for a change?”

And he leaps at the chance, scrambling to find one of his cassettes popping it in for you. He’s surprised to find you actually like it, as you nod along, tapping your foot to the beat.

“What’s this song, Eds?” You hum curiously.

“Oh, uh it’s called Rainbow in the Dark, it’s by Dio.”

“Oh, like on your back patch, right?” You ask eagerly.

His chest swells more than he thought possible, full of happiness, “Yep that’s right, sweetheart. Can’t believe you remember things like that.”

“Is this the sort of music your band plays?”

“Yeah, I guess kinda.” He shrugs.

“Maybe I could come see you guys play at that bar you guys perform at.” You suggest hopefully.

He shakes his head, “Oh, no, no, no sweetheart The Hideout isn’t the type of place for you and plus it’s on a school night.”

You pout in response, going to protest, “But…”

Your protests die on your lips as he offers, “But you could come to band practice… if you wanted.”

“Really? That’s perfect, thanks Eds.”

“I can’t believe I didn’t think to invite you sooner. I guess I just thought you wouldn’t be into it.”

“Of course I’m into it. You’re my boyfriend, why wouldn’t I want to support you?”

He jerks in his seat, stuttering awkwardly, “I’m your… your boyfriend?”

Your stomach drops, was it too early, you’d only been on a handful of dates, this’d be your fourth, “Oh, uh yeah… unless… unless you don’t want to be…”

“No! I mean I do… want to be your boyfriend… want you to be my girlfriend … I just… it’s… never-mind. Yeah, I’m your boyfriend.” He settles back into the seat goofy grin plastered across his face.

When you get to your destination, he leaps out trotting around the hood of the van to open your door for you as usual, offering you his hand to help you down. You giggle and take his hand, he shuts the door behind you and you lead him away from the van, his hand still clasped in yours.

An idea strikes him all of a sudden, tugging on your hand gently and spinning you to face him. He’s blurting out, stumbling over his words, “Uhhhh, hey sweetheart, I know it’s not really your style or whatever, but uh… I want… now you’re like officially my girlfriend I want to… to give you something. Show everyone you’re mine.”

He fishes around under the collar of his shirt as he speaks. You bite your lip, without even knowing it, he’s got you pegged right from the start. You wanna be his, let everyone know it, let him claim you.

He pulls out his guitar pick necklace and twists your hand so that it faces palm up. He drops the pick into your hand, slowly lowering the chain to coil up alongside it.

He looks into your eyes nervously, hand reaching up to rub the back of his neck “You don’t have to wear it or anything if you don’t want. I can get you something better once I save a bit more money-”

You cut him off with a short kiss to his lips, before slipping the chain over your head, squealing, “No! Eddie, I love it! I’m going to wear it all the time!”

He stares down at your chest as his pick settles between your breasts, wrapped up as they are in your snug, little pink cardigan before gazing back up at you.

He breathes out a sigh of relief, she likes it, thank fucking Christ, he thinks to himself with a dopey grin. Floating back down to earth his grin fading slightly, but not disappearing, he clears his throat, “Alright, come on let’s go before we’re late for the movie.”

He swaps positions with you now taking the lead, making sure he stands curb-side as he pulls you to walk alongside him. You tug on his arm and he pauses turning to you as you speak, “Wait… I wanna give you something too.”

You reach into your hair tugging on the end of a ribbon, you’d had wrapped around like a headband. It falls away and you bring his hand closer to you, looping it around his wrist beside the chain bracelet that’s already there and tying a bow.

He glances down, watching your nimble fingers working the soft, pink material. It stands out on his arm, a pop of colour amidst the darkness. He feels like his heart is about to burst out of his chest, still can’t believe any of this is real.

He stares at his wrist for a beat, before you break him out of it, “Ok, now let’s go.”

“Yeah, sure thing Bambi.” He mumbles.

He’d started in with that nickname a little while ago, but you’re still not quite sure why. All the little nicknames he called you brought you so much joy. Every ‘baby’, ‘sweetheart’, ‘princess’… you cherished them all.

Despite being your boyfriend now, he’d never felt like more of a perv than when he’s around you. He wants to take it slow with you, not rush you into anything you’re not comfortable with. 

However, he finds he can’t contain himself, stealing your dirty panties, peeping on you in the shower, jerking off into your lotion imagining you rubbing it into your skin the next day.

When you offer up your shower to him one day with a, ‘…why don’t you just shower here, silly. I don’t mind’, he does the same with your body wash this time. He’s surrounded by you, your scent, absolutely falling to pieces.

The smell of you clings to him for the rest of the day, can’t resist twisting his hair in front of his face, smelling your shampoo grinning stupidly. He ends up jerking off about three more times that day.

He feels conflicted about it though, he shouldn’t be thinking of you like that, cute, innocent little y/n. There’s a part of him that wants to corrupt you, give in to all his devilishly, sinful thoughts, have his way with you. But it’s wrong, so wrong and the guilt eats him up.

It takes a while before you convince him to let you visit him at his place, he’s never been embarrassed about where he lives per se but when he compares his trailer to your perfectly, picturesque white picket fence suburbia he feels he doesn’t quite measure up. You on the other hand couldn’t care less.

“Oh, look Eds! A puppy!” You squeal pointing at the dog behind the fence trotting off to get a closer look, dirtying your white trainers in the mud without even noticing.

You bend at the waist offering your hand for the dog to sniff before scratching at its head. Your skirt rides up and flutters with a gust of wind, Eddie catches sight of the black ink at the junction of your hip, eyes bulging out of his skull, almost choking on his own tongue, “You have a tattoo?!”

“Mhmm.” You hum distractedly, fully focused on the dog in front of you.

“Can… can I see it?”

“Oh, yeah sure.” You stand turning to face him.

You scan the street for any potential witnesses, seeing none, you flip your skirt up, the little, trussed up kitten on full display beside your little lilac and white polka dot panties. Eddie chokes out a gasp, barely getting a glimpse at it before he’s rushing over to you pulling your skirt back down to cover you, “Bambi, you can’t just do that in the middle of the street!” He shrieks in a pitchy voice.

“What, why not? There’s no one here.”  You protest, his hand grips your wrist and he’s dragging you into his trailer.

As soon as he gets you inside, he rounds on you, answering, “Anyone could see you out there, you don’t know the kinda pervs that live here!”

“Awww, you one of those pervs Eds?” You giggle.

He splutters, “What? No! Why would you think that?”

“It’s ok, I’m only teasing.” You prod at his shoulder, “Hey, uh I wanted to ask… um, can I paint your nails?” You give him your very best puppy dog eyes.

He looks down at you quizzically, “Uh, why?”

“I think it’d look hot, especially with your rings. Don’t worry I got black, got it special just for you.”

“Oh, sweetheart that’s adorable, you got it just for me?”

You nod eagerly, “Uhh huh. What do you think? Can I?”

He smirks, “You really think it’d be ‘hot’?”

“Yeah, sooo hot Eds, you have no idea.”

“Ok then. Did you wanna do it now?” He concedes.

“Yes, please!” You bounce, unable to contain your excitement and he chuckles at you.

“Come on, let’s head into my room then.”

He leads the way and you trail along behind him, he’d tidied up his room specially for you, hiding away a few choice items he thought you shouldn’t see. You don’t notice when he stiffens a little as he realises there’s something he missed. He spots a pair of your panties, stained with his cum poking out from under his bed he surges forward kicking them further under before doing an odd twirl spreading his arms and shouting a little louder than necessary, “Well, this is it!”

You grin at him, looking around the room you announce, “It’s great Eds, very you, I like it.”

Slipping your little powder blue backpack off your shoulders, setting it down on his bed and digging through it to pull out that bottle of black nail polish. You hold it up triumphantly before sitting on the edge of his bed, waving him over, “ You got some tissues or something around, don’t wanna ruin my skirt.”

“Yeah, just a sec.” He mumbles rushing off.

You take another glance around his room, giddy with excitement, you were in his room, on his bed.

He tumbles back in clutching a box of tissues, thrusting it into your arms, “Here ya go.”

You set the box down beside you, pulling a couple out and laying them over your thigh before looking up at him, “Sit please. On the floor, just there would be good.” You spread your legs a little giving him a space to slot into in front of you.

“Oh… uh… ok I guess.” He sinks to the floor on his knees.

“Thank you.” You grin at him sickly sweet. “Now I just need your hand.”

He nods offering you one and you grip it gently, bringing it to rest on your thigh over the tissue there. His fingers tremble slightly, breath catching in his throat as you let go of his hand leaving it there to open the nail polish. 

He’s suddenly hyperaware of his position between your legs, his hand on your thigh. His thoughts drift to the panties under his bed as a blush spreads over his cheeks, down his neck and his dick swells between his legs.

You get to work painting his nails, tongue poking out between your teeth in concentration. When you finish one hand you bring it up to your lips, blowing over his fingers gently. His eyes dart between your glossy lips and your eyes, he has to fight back a moan.

“Next please! And careful with that hand it’s not going to be completely dry yet. Don’t want it to smudge.” You instruct him.

He nods mutely, painted hand dropping to rest on the bed beside you, you grab at the other and repeat the process.

“All done!” You hum smiling at him, “Now you gotta let them dry, you can blow on ‘em too. How about we put on one of your records and just relax for a bit?” You suggest.

He nods in agreement and you extricate yourself from your spot on the bed. Moving over to his record player that you’d spotted earlier, flipping through his collection and picking out one at random you set it up. Music fills the room, through the crackly speaker and you flop back onto his bed. He remains on the floor beside you.

You lean back sighing contentedly staring up at the ceiling when a thought occurs to you, propping yourself up on one arm you turn to him, “Hey, Eds?”

“Hmmm?”

“Why do you call me ‘Bambi’ all the time?”

“Well, it’s cause you’re all cute and innocent.” He states matter-of-factly.

“But I’m not though.” You pout back at him.

“What do you mean, sweetheart?”

“‘M not innocent, don’t know why everyone thinks I am.”

“But you are.” He insists.

“I’m not, you’ll see.” You protest.

He chuckles to himself, “Ok, sweetheart, if you say so.”

“You will see, next time we’re at my place. I promise.”

He scrambles up the trellis outside your bedroom, hoisting himself onto the roof. Just as he pops his head around to peer into your window, hand raised to knock against the glass he sees you. Completely bare… scratch that, bare except for the frilly little panties tangled around your ankle and his guitar pick bouncing around between the swell of your breasts. 

His breath catches in his throat, did you forget that you had invited him over? He can finally get a good look at that tattoo on your thigh by your hip. A fluffy kitten, paws under its chin, all knotted up in baby pink rope, a shibari design, the tail end of the rope clasped in its mouth, golden bell hanging off of it, surrounded by berries and leaves. Cute and innocent but also so very filthy at the same time, his mouth waters at the sight.

You’re sitting atop your large stuffed white tiger, Mr Stripes as he recalls from when you’d spread out all your stuffies introducing them all to him by name, one by one. 

You’re thrusting away with abandon, grinding against the tigers back, clutching at the stuffed head in front of you, your head thrown back moaning wantonly. He can hear it even through the glass, then suddenly your eyes are drawn to the window and you spot him, crouched there staring at you slack jawed. 

You hop off the tiger eyes lighting up, your panties slip away onto the floor as you bounce over to the window calling out his name. Pushing it open you pull him in with a hand scrunched into the front of his shirt. 

He stumbles through the window and you drag him over to sit on the edge of your bed. He grabs for the nearest item to shove into his crotch, hiding his raging erection.

“Wh-what’re you doing?” He gasps.

“Eddie don’t be silly, you know what I’m doing, I was just about to cum when you got here… can I… can I keep going?”

“Bambi, I don’t think I should… we shouldn’t…”

“Please, Eds wanna finish. I want you to watch.” You pout at him

“Fuck… I… ok, yeah you can finish.”

You squeal and kiss the tip of his nose, “Thank you. Now watch, ok… and you don’t need to hide behind Miss Flopsy ya know, I already know you’re hard.”

He glances down at his lap and realises he had in fact grabbed your fluffy, floppy eared bunny, slowly removing it and placing it to the side a little awkwardly.

You hop back on top of the stuffed tiger resuming the roll of your hips and bringing one hand up to tweak at your nipple as you look directly into his eyes. He balls his hands into fists at his knees, clenching and unclenching them, swallowing harshly his Adam’s apple bobs up and down.

You moan and whine grinding into the fuzz beneath you, when an idea springs to your mind, “Edddiieee… can you take your cock out for me, please? Wanna watch you touching yourself when I cum.”

He splutters and chokes at your words, hesitating before he responds, despite everything in him screaming to do exactly what you just asked for, “Are you sure? Like really, really sure?”

You pout at him, “Yes Eds, I told you I’m not as innocent as everyone thinks I am, ok. Please I want this.”

“And you’re not just doing this to prove a point right? I don’t want you doing anything you’ll regret.”

“No, Eddie please just let me watch you, let me give you a show.”

His hands fumble at his belt as he breaths out heavily, “Jesus Christ Bambi, where is all this coming from?”

“Hurry up Eds, need to see you, ‘m so close.”

He hurriedly pulls his cock free of its confines, his wet tip glistens and you gasp at the sight, “Yes Eddie, thank you.”

His hand glides up and down his length with ease, precum already bubbling up at the head adding to the slick shlucking sound that is produced as he fists his cock desperately, he’s almost embarrassed at how close he is already.

You moan encouragingly, “Such a pretty cock, look how pink it is… and shiny. Just wanna suck on it. Bet it’s sweet like a lolly, will you let me taste it?”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck… I’m gonna cum… you gonna cum with me Bambi?”

“God yes! Eddiiieee…” You wail as your hips move to match his pace, the dam inside you breaking and giving way to your body wracking orgasm. Your head thrown back, eyes rolling into your skull, hands digging into the stuffed toy beneath you in a vicelike grip as you ride it out.

“Fuck, y/n.” He groans coating his fist in his release as it sprays all over the blush pink duvet on the bed. He falls back limply, eyes drooping, gasping as he tries to catch his breath.

You pant, chest heaving, as you look at his messy hand still clasped around his cock. You slide off the stuffed toy inching closer to him, you grasp his wrist pulling his hand up to your face. His eyes snap open, looking at you curiously. You lick away his thick, white cream, your tongue laving over each digit, paying extra special attention to his ring-clad fingers. He lets out a guttural moan and you suck his pointer finger all the way into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it.

He pulls his hand away, gasping “Stop, stop. What are you doing?”

His reaction stings, an awful feeling settling in your belly… you’d done it again, gone too far. Tears well up in your eyes, and you blubber, “S-s-sorry…”

The urge to comfort you overtakes all else and he’s scooping you into his lap, completely forgetting that you’re totally naked, that he’s still got his pants rolled down, cock out. He pulls you against his chest, you press your face into the crook of his neck, shoulders shaking as he rubs your back soothingly.

“Hey, no, no, don’t cry. I should have stopped it sooner. You were too far gone, I should have known better.”

All at once he becomes acutely aware of your wet, puffy folds on top of him, his dick swelling in response… Oh god, no not now, not like this, not when she’s so distraught and crying… fuck… that’s it, he’s done for, he thinks.

“No, I’m sorry… I-I…”You whimper.

“Bambi, talk to me. Tell me how I can make it better.”

“Wh-what…?” You look up at him blinking away tears, “You’re… you’re not mad at me? You don’t think I’m gross?”

“What?! Why on earth would I think that?”

You can’t hold back the weepy tirade, and he lets you blubber on, “W-well my… my last boyfriend he… he couldn’t handle the stuff I was into either… he called me a freak, said he never wanted to see me again… an-and I tried to take it slow, hold back with you.”

You take a big, shaky breath before continuing, “Didn’t wanna scare you o-off too… cause I really, really like you Eds… b-but you’ve barely even tried to touch me li-like that and we’ve been dating for weeks now… I was going crazy, I just had to do something.”

He holds up a hand huffing angrily, “Hold up. First of all, what do you mean ‘scare me off’, who said I can’t handle this? That was hot as fuck. And second of all, who the fuck was that creep, there has got to be something seriously wrong with him… if he-he…”

You cut him off squeezing his shoulder, “Eddie, it’s ok, it’s fine forget about him. Please, tell me why you stopped me. Why do you think we should have stopped sooner?”

“Come on Bambi, why do you think? Look at you always so cute and innocent. I shouldn’t corrupt you like that… I shouldn’t be dragging you down with me like this… turning you into some pervert.”

“Eddie, enough with the ‘cute and innocent’ stuff… and I can feel that, by the way. The way your dick twitched when you talked about ‘corrupting’ me…” You grind down on him and he whimpers hanging his head in shame.

“I’m sorry-”

“Don’t be, this is what I wanted, ok. Wait. Wait here a minute let me show you what I really mean.” You slide out of his grip trotting off into your walk-in wardrobe.

You emerge carrying what you had affectionately dubbed the treasure chest, a moderately sized wooden box that you’d covered in stickers. You’d been dying to do a little show and tell with him, just like you had with all your stuffies. Again, in the interest of not scaring him off you’d held off, but now seemed a good a time as any to really make your point.

“What’s that, sweetheart?”

“More toys.” You grin at him.

“I thought you showed me all your toys, told me all their names and everything.”

“Yeah, I did show you all those toys, but I didn’t tell you everything about them. Let’s start there, ok? So, you saw me riding Mr. Stripes. He’s one of the best for that, firm but soft and fuzzy. Perfectly shaped cushion to sit on, something to grab on to, it’s like he was made for it.”

“Fuck, yeah saw the way you were bucking against him.” You notice his hand twitching, making slight moves towards his fat dick resting between his thighs.

You nod towards his crotch, “You can keep touching yourself if you want.”

“God, sweetheart I don’t know if I can take much more of this. My poor little heart might just give out. How did you keep all of this hidden away for so long?”

“Told ya didn’t wanna scare you off, I care about you too much Eds. Anyway, Mr. Stripes was my favourite stuffie for a long time, but then you gave me my little Eddie Bear.”

He gasps, hand drifting towards his cock gripping it lazily, “Yeah, uhh huh. I remember Eddie Bear.”

He recalls the day he’d gifted that to you, he’d cut a small hole into the bear and fucked it ‘til he came deep inside. Stitching it up carefully afterwards so you’d never notice.

“And when you did, he smelled just like… you. And then I rode him so much, over and over, just thinking of you. So many times, ‘til he didn’t smell like you anymore. I was a bit sad about that, though.” You lament.

He groans, a rumbling sound deep from his chest, as he continues stroking his throbbing cock, thumbing at the tip, “Yeah, what else? Tell me more, Bambi.”

“Well, sometimes I like to make all the other stuffies watch while I ride one of them, but the really fun toys are in here…” You hold up the chest.

“What’s in there sweetheart, you gonna show me like you did with all your other toys?”

You nod eagerly, placing the box on the bed and take a seat in front of it cross-legged, he chuckles at you, “Um these ones don’t really have names… except one. That one is my absolute favourite! Do you want me to show you that one first?”

“If that’s what you want, sweetheart.” His hand drops to fondle his balls for a moment as you continue.

You swing back the lid of the box on its hinges, holding so it blocks his view of everything inside, “Ok, so I call this my little treasure chest…”

“That’s cute, Bambi, I like that.” He remarks as you shuffle around the box in search of a particular item.

“Ok get ready, this one is called Mr. Flopsy…”

He grins at you, but that falters and his hand moves to squeeze the base of his cock firmly, eyes widening as you pull out a six-inch, translucent pink, sparkly rabbit vibrator, it’s almost the same circumference around as it is long. It’s not the most intimidating one in your collection but it is one of your favourites.

He inhales sharply before groaning out, “God fucking damn! That is not what I was expecting when you said ‘toys’. Jesus H Christ Bambi if you asked me yesterday, I wouldn’t have even thought you knew what one of those was!”

“Well, I do mister, so now do you believe I’m not just little Miss Innocent?”

He nods and hums in a strained way, “Uh huh, yep mm hmm.”

“So, see Mr. Flopsy is my favourite cause he’s all pink and sparkly and look a little bunny… that’s why I call him Mr. Flopsy.” You flick the ears on the toy and Eddie groans in response, just the thought of where those little ears have been drives him wild.

“He might not be the biggest in the collection, but he makes up for it in every other way.”

He resumes stroking along his length, whining, “Please can I see you use Mr. Flopsy?”

“Yeah, you really wanna?” You smile up at him sweetly, eyes lighting up.

“Fuck, absolutely sweetheart. You gonna do it for me?”

“Yes, but not now, there’s still a whole lot more to show you first.”

“Can’t we do that some other time?”

“Nope.” You reply cheekily.

“Ugh, do we have to go one by one though? Can’t you just dump it all out?” He groans frustratedly.

“Ok, I guess… for you, but you’ll have to help me pack up later.” You concede, tipping over the chest and letting everything tumble out.

Piles of rope and collars and nipple clamps and chains and dildos and fuzzy handcuffs, and more, in all shades of pastel colours cascade over the bed. He drops his slick, leaky cock, wiping his hand off along the duvet before rummaging through the pile in front of him. His cock bobs up and down in his lap desperate for attention.

“Oh, this is so much better than anything I could have ever imagined. Who knew you were such a kinky, little…” He pauses abruptly, you can tell he’s holding back.

“Go on Eds, call me dirty names, tell me I’m a kinky, little slut… is that what you were going to say? ‘Cause I’ll be your little slut, all yours, just for you. I’ll be your little present all wrapped up in bows, let you tie me up, split me open on your cock…”

He cuts you off pulling you in by the back of your neck, his lips colliding with your own over the paraphernalia laying beneath you. You break apart breathlessly, whining “Need you Eds, please…”

He rushes to strip off his clothing, tossing his jeans clear across the room in his haste. He glances down into the items scattered before him, in search of something…

“You gonna tie me up?” You ask hopefully.

“Sorry, Bambi not this time…” he spots what he was looking for, “…but I will be using these… if that’s ok?” He holds up a pink, fluffy pair of handcuffs, dangling them off a finger.

“Oh, that is more than ok Eddie.”

“I’m going to guess you’re familiar with the traffic light system, right?”

You nod proudly, “Uh huh, sure am.”

“Good, we’ll use that for now, ok?”

“Ok, Eddie, all green from me.” You offer him your wrists without him even asking.

“Oh, what a good girl you are, but first I’m going to need you to make some room on the bed. Just scoop all of that back into its box and set it on the floor, we can deal with it later…” 

You nod mutely and do as you’re told while he continues, “… and you can tell me all about every little thing in there while we do. Your stuffies can stay and watch the show though.” He smirks at you.

Once the bed is clear, you kneel in the centre, resting back on your heels, all your stuffies and flowery, fluffy pillows propped up behind you. You look up at him through your long lashes waiting with baited breath for his next move. He cups your cheek, caressing it with a thumb, “You wanna be my good girl, my good little slut?”

“Y-yes please. Can I… can I call you ‘sir’?”

“Oh, Bambi so precious, so cute… yes, you may call me ‘sir’.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Anything for you princess. Now, how would you like to be cuffed… hands behind your back or to your bed frame?”

“To the bed, please.” You scoot back closer to the head of the bed, bringing your knees to your chest and squishing up against the toys and pillows.

“Such good manners. Did your mummy and daddy teach you that? Are they home now?” Coming up beside you he guides your hands one at a time, first closing a fluffy cuff around one wrist, then looping it through the bed frame and cuffing the other hand.

You shake your head, sinking down into the mattress your legs falling open, “Nuh uh, they’ve gone out. Won’t be home for hours.”

He moves to rest between your spread legs, humming in your ear, a finger brushing stray wisps of hair away from your face. “Hmmm, that’s strange why did you tell me to come in through the backyard then? Why’d you ask me not to use the door?”

“‘Cause… ‘cause I wanted you to catch me, thought maybe if you did…” You trail off distracted by his breath heating the side of your face.

Drawing back slightly he questions, “What did you think sweetheart? Did you think I wouldn’t be able to control myself? That I’d just take you right there as soon as I saw you?”

“Maybe… something a little like that.” You admit shyly.

“Well, aren’t you lucky then, that worked out quite nicely for you, didn’t it? I think it was very naughty though, don’t you?” He teases with a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Sir?”

“I think someone needs to be… punished.” He proceeds cautiously.

“No, sir please I’ll be good. I’m your good girl remember.”

He gives you a slightly concerned look, “Colour?”

You grin back at him, “Green, sir.”

He runs a hand over your thigh, you shiver in response squeezing your legs together around him, “Ok, I have an idea… maybe more of a fun punishment. How’s that?”

“O-ok.” You agree shakily.

He continues “Well, since you decided to tease me with Mr. Flopsy, how about I use him on you… but you’re not allowed to cum.”

You pout, “Aww, that’s not fair.”

“Ah, ah, thought you said you were going to be my good girl?” He tuts at you, “The next time you cum I want that tight little pussy wrapped around my cock. Want you to get it all wet and sloppy for me.”

“I-I can do that for you.” You assure him breathily.

“I know, just wait right there for me while I find Mr. Flopsy.” He leans over the edge of the bed and riffles through the ‘treasure chest’.

You giggle, jiggling the cuffs around your wrist, “I can’t go anywhere Eds.”

“Ha got it!” He pulls out the toy holding it up proudly, before fiddling with the buttons on its base.

You’re practically shivering with anticipation as he cycles through the settings getting familiar with it. When he finds the button that makes the shaft thrust back and forth, with a gasp his head snaps to you, “I didn’t know it did that!”

You smirk at him, “Yeah, it’s good, isn’t it?”

“Why, don’t we see just how good it is, sweetheart?” He turns off the vibrations and the thrusting tip before making his way back to you. He trails the toy over your body slowly, lingering when he brings it up between your breasts alongside his guitar pick.

He looks up into your eyes, his pupils blown wide with lust, “Why don’t you start by getting Mr. Flopsy all nice and wet for me with your mouth?”

You nod in agreement and he holds the toy against your lips, they part. You lick up and down the shaft, letting your drool dribble all over it before wrapping your lips around the tip giving it a suck.

He groans in response as you try to take more of the shaft into your mouth. He pulls the toy away, “I think that’s enough now, are you still trying to tease me? Still being a naughty girl?”

You shake your head, “No just… just like having something to suck on. It feels good for me too… really like sucking on dick… ‘s like a little treat, like a lollipop, but better.”

“Fuuuuck, baby we are going to have to explore that a whole lot more soon-”

You interrupt him eagerly adding, “Balls! I like balls too! Wanna worship every inch of you Eds.”

A strangled groan escapes his lips, he grits his teeth, “God you really are gonna give me a heart attack ya know.”

“How’re… how’re you doing Eds?” You ask, checking in with him too.

“Oh, I’m green. I’m so fucking green I’m an emerald, ‘bout as hard as one too.”

You giggle at the comparison, “Well, come on let’s get to my… funishment then.”

“Oh, little princess thinks she can give orders now. Well, you’ll soon learn to be careful what you ask for, sweetheart.”

He takes the slobbery toy and runs it through your folds, prodding at your clit a few times before turning it on. The vibrations start out gentle as he continues his motions, slowly he begins easing the toy into your slick entrance. You gasp at the intrusion, sighing as he eases it in further and further. The little rabbit ears press into your clit and he starts the vibrations on those to.

“Oh, Eddie feels so good.” You whine.

“Remember no cumming on your toy this time.” He warns.

“I promise Eds, I’ll be good.”

He groans along with you and increases the intensity of the vibrations, “Let me know when you’re close ok?”

“Yes, sir,”

He gives an experimental thrust with the toy gauging your reaction, your wrists pull on their restraints and you moan. He ups the intensity yet again before remembering the thrusting feature, he pushes the toy all the way in and you feel your wetness flood around it.

He starts the thrusting action of the toy then waves his hands around grinning, “Look Bambi, no hands.” 

Your giggle turns into a broken moan as he increases the speed of the thrusting toy inside you. His hands moving to cup your breasts, kneading them and rolling your nipples between his fingers.

Your hips begin to raise off the mattress, attempting to match the movements of the toy buzzing away inside you. You gasp, “Please, sir… please, please, please. I’m so close…”

And then all at once all sensation is gone, ripped away from you right at the precipice as he removes the toy. You whine at the loss, hips still bucking away in search of more.

“Oh, I know, I know…” He coos down at you, pressing your hips back down into the mattress.

“Fuck… Eddie, please I need you. Please fuck me.”

“If only I knew what a little slut you really were, we could’ve been doing this ages ago, you know that right?” He switches off the toy and licks it clean of your juices before dropping it down on the bed beside you.

You whimper beneath him, “Yes, sir I know. ‘m sorry I made you wait. Please I need you now, we can make up for all the lost time.”

“Oh, my pretty little princess, we will be making up for it…” he growls before guiding his slick cock into your wet heat. He slams in all at once. The toy is nothing compared to him and his impressive length, but the preparation and all your arousal is enough to have him sliding in with ease.

He rests there for a moment gazing down at you, before checking in breathlessly, “You… hmmm… you good down there?”

You look up at him nodding, “… mhmmmm… perfect Eds, green.”

That’s all the confirmation he needs before he’s pulling his hips back and slamming into you once more. “Don’t… don’t know if I’ll be able to last long… ya got no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this.” He manages to pant out. Head hanging forward his hair flopping into his face as he braces himself with his hands on the bed frame by your own.

“I-I think I have some idea… hey, Eds?”

“Yeah, sweetheart? You still good?”

“Yep, just… hngh… just… can you cum inside me, please?”

His hips stutter and he groans, “God fucking damn, you really are trying to kill me, aren’t you?”

You look up at him desperate and needy, “Please, sir. Please, wan’ it nice and deep.”

“Fuuuuck… shit yeah, yeah gonna cum soon. Gonna give it all to you.”

You strain at the cuffs in a pathetic attempt to grab a hold of something… tug on his long hair that dangles in his face, crumple the sheets, squeeze your stuffies, a pillow… anything. Instead, you wrap your legs around him, drawing him in deeper mewling desperately with each thrust.

“Are you close?” He pants above you.

“So close Eds, so close… you gonna cum with me when I soak that perfect cock of yours?”

He lets out the most hopeless, pathetic whine, “God… fuck… yes, yes, yes…”

He grabs the discarded vibrator turning it on and pressing it into your clit sending you into orbit, you pulse around him rhythmically, gushing all over his length with a scream and call out his name.

It doesn’t take long for him either, the feeling of you clamping down around him, the added vibrations from the toy. He unloads into you with a cry of his own. The feel of his warm, thick cum painting your walls only prolongs the sensation for you. When he slides his dick out, your combined fluids dribble out, running between your cheeks and pooling on the bed beneath you.

He’s still holding the toy against you as you tremble with aftershocks, “S-stop, ‘m sensitive Eds, please.” You gasp out.

“Oh, right. Sorry.” He grins sheepishly, removing the toy, turning it off and tossing it aside.

He hooks a finger into the chain linking your cuffs, “Keys?”

“Bedside table. Top drawer. They’re pink.”

“Of course they are.” He chuckles and leans over to retrieve the keys.

He undoes the restraints and rubs at your wrists soothingly before scooping you up into his arms and manoeuvring you to lay against his chest.

His fingers trail along the chain draped over your neck, settling on the guitar pick, toying with it, “So, you kept this on, huh?”

“Yeah, uh it’s… it’s kinda like a collar in a way, but… more. More personal. More special. Been wearing it more than my actual collars now. More than any pretty little ribbon too.”

He gives it a gentle tug and you whine in response.

“You like wearing it, like it’s your own little special collar showing everyone who you belong to?”

“Yes Eds, God yes.” You breath out, pausing for a beat before asking hopefully, “What about you, do you still have the ribbon I gave you?”

“I could never part with my lady’s favour.” He declares, spinning the bracelet around his wrist to show the chain side where he’d woven the ribbon through the links.

You reach down running your fingertips over it, overwhelmed by your emotions, it has you blurting out, “I love you, Eddie.”

He sighs, “I love you too.”

“Do you think after we clean up, we can go for milkshakes?”

“Absolutely, sweetheart... with whipped cream and extra cherries too.”

You squeal in delight, “Thank you, Eddie! Best boyfriend ever!”

He pulls you in for a lingering kiss, before pulling away whispering, “Alright, then better get up if we’re gonna get to the diner.”

#eddie munson fic #eddie munson smut #eddie x reader #perv!eddie #perv!eddie x reader #perv!eddie x innocent!reader #eddie x innocent!reader #perv!eddie munson #eddie x girly!reader #perv!eddie x girly!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie x y/n #eddie x bambi

[cuubism]

I've written something very silly. Dating apps, texting fic, crack, smut. desire messing with dream. onlyfans creator hob. trans dream. Enjoy.

--

U up?

The notification from an unfamiliar app stared up at Dream from his locked phone screen. He frowned, perplexed. Nobody texted him. Certainly not with such vernacular.

Dream opened the notification. It pulled up the messaging page of a dating app, one he himself had certainly not installed—

Desire. He grit his teeth. Unfortunately, they weren’t nearby to receive his ire.

Dream looked again at U up? on the message interface. He clicked on the profile of the man who’d sent it, a “Kyle” who would not have looked out of place shotgunning a beer at a rager. Of course, Desire had not only gone to great lengths to establish him on this insipid app, but had also spent time matching him with the exact opposite of his type, presumably to cause him never-ending grief and annoyance. As usual.

Dream should probably have just deleted the app. Instead he responded, For?

What he received in response, a few minutes later, was a poorly-lit photograph of Kyle’s penis. Dream pinched his nose between thumb and forefinger with a sigh. He should have known.

I have seen better, he replied, and closed out of the app.

He had been back at his writing for ten minutes or so when his phone buzzed again. He checked the notification.

Brad: you could be MY good boy, kitty cat 😽

Dream gagged, but opened the man’s profile out of perilous, morbid curiosity.

Brad, 28, Hedge Fund Manager, “Looking for something casual on the DL”, likes golf and cryptocurrency— oh, dear. Somehow, Dream doubted this Brad truly wanted Dream to become a part of his life. Nor did Dream want to be his ‘kitty cat’.

He was going to have words with Desire.

You strike me as a man who brings choking into the bedroom without knowing what a safe word is, he wrote. Am I accurate?

I can choke you if you want, baby 😜, wrote Brad. Which may as well have been a yes.

Dream did not think that Brad was the person he wanted that from. Not to mention that his utter lack of kink safety knowledge would probably land Dream in hospital, and there were more interesting ways for that to happen than mediocre sex in a finance associate’s penthouse.

I would prefer to keep my brain cells, he wrote, and closed the app.

Over the next few days, Dream fielded many strange, annoying, and obscene messages from people on this app. He certainly had not “swiped right” on anybody himself, so he could only assumed Desire had done so on his behalf and had now left him to suffer the consequences of “matching.” By all rights, he should have just deleted the app off his phone. But Dream rarely communicated with anyone, certainly not strangers, and there was something a little bit entertaining about seeing what kind of drivel was being thrown his way. Was this how people attempted to court over the internet? Or perhaps Desire had merely “matched” him with the dregs of humanity.

By the end of the week, Dream had received seven “dick pics”, four offers to share one or more of his body parts in exchange for cash, and a request to become a seventy-five year-old man’s “sugar baby.” He was uncertain precisely what that entailed, but he was fairly certain he would not like it.

He had also received a text from Desire that read, enjoying yourself? ;) to which he did not respond.

His meager entertainment expended, Dream was on the verge of finally deleting the app when he received a different message:

Hob: Do you think it’s possible to cheat death by force of will, or are you too busy craving its sweet release to consider it?

Dream frowned, perplexed by the specificity of the message. Finally it occurred to him to actually look at the profile Desire had made. He swiped over to said screen, and sighed in aggravation.

Desire had, at least, chosen flattering photos of him. He supposed if the goal was to have Dream sexually harassed over the internet, this would have been a requirement. The photos definitely suggested something other than “serious, committed relationship”, but they weren’t terrible, at least.

As for the text—well, Dream finally understood where some of the more unhinged messages he had received had come from. He read through the given prompts, and Desire’s answers to them:

Dating me is like: You found a stray cat and brought it home and fed it and you were going to take it to the animal shelter but now it won't leave. It’s pretty cute if a bit mangy but it won’t stop biting your hand and mewing pathetically. The sex is pretty good tho.

“Pretty good.” Desire had written all this and couldn’t even manage to make Dream sound like a satisfying hookup. Typical.

He read on:

I’ll fall for you if: You tell me I’m a good boy 😳

Things were falling into place in Dream’s mind now.

Hob’s strange message seemed to arise from the main part of Dream’s profile, where Desire had listed his “religion” as “worshipping l’appel du vide.” An interesting element for this “Hob” to focus on. Dream did not think it was typical for messages on these apps to open with a discussion of death.

He switched back over to the messaging page of the app, and replied: I consider death often. As to your query, it depends: are you thinking of death as an entity one could escape, or a force like gravity? Or perhaps a place one must go?

Hmm, Hob responded, good question. I think it’s like a state. But a state of nothingness. See, if I thought it was a *place*, might be willing to go, see something new and all. But what’s the point of nothingness?

Nothingness is its own satisfaction, wrote Dream. It seemed peaceful, to him. Quiet. The lack of need for satisfaction in the first place.

But you won’t be there, so you won’t get to experience it, said Hob.

Precisely.

Huh. The void really is calling to you. You don’t like experience, then?

Is that innuendo? Dream asked.

Could be. If it is, do I get to be part of the toxic codependent relationship that ends horribly for everyone?

Another reference to Desire’s profile choices. What Dream was apparently “looking for in a relationship.”

That depends on the quality of your experience, he wrote.

I’ve received good reviews, said Hob.

You’ve yet to call me “kitten,” so I suppose I must concur on that front, replied Dream.

You started that one, little stray cat, said Hob.

Technically Desire had started it, but Dream had to grudgingly admit that his profile did invite such comments.

Having a smashing time in your dm’s, then? Hob continued.

I have received several unsolicited pictures of genitalia, wrote Dream.

Oh yeah? said Hob. Anything good?

Random strangers’ genitals did not interest Dream. There was a reason he did not watch porn. Mediocre at best, Dream said.

There was a long pause, and Dream hastily added, Do not send me a picture of your dick as comparison.

My dick is already all over the internet, you don’t need to get it here 😛, said Hob.

Dream blinked several times at his phone screen, as if to clear away a fog before a message that might make more sense.

What, he wrote.

Before Hob could reply, it occurred to Dream that perhaps he should actually look at Hob’s own profile. He had gotten too caught up in the strange conversation to remember to do so.

He opened it and— froze.

Dream had already deduced that Desire had intentionally matched him with whoever they thought Dream would be least interested in. He could see why they had thought the same of Hob, primarily because he was very different from Dream. In the past, Dream had tended to have flings with people who were rather like him, in some respects. “Tortured artists,” Death would say.

This was not Hob. For one, unlike Dream’s pouty and morose profile photo, Hob was actually smiling in the first picture on his page. And what a smile.

He was handsome, too. At least, Dream thought so. Handsome in a homey, comfortable way, the type of handsome that suggested really good hugs, and coffee in the mornings, and someone to come home to. Dream scrolled through more photos, and caught the spark of mischief in his eyes that belied his easy nature. This best matched the way Hob spoke in his messages, he thought.

It was not so much that Hob was his usual type, and more that Desire had unintentionally uncovered a type Dream had not known he had. He swallowed hard. Scrolled back up to read the details of Hob’s bio, in search of answers to the strangeness of Hob’s response.

Ah. His profession was listed as “OnlyFans creator.” That would explain it. He supposed he could track down Hob’s profile on said app. Dream was historically not very interested in porn, however. But he was finding himself interested in Hob.

He moved back to the messaging page, and wrote, before Hob could question why Dream was confused about information that was clearly stated in his profile, Ah. I see. I’m afraid I don’t watch porn.

That a moral stance? Bcuz I get enough of that already, trust me.

Personal taste, said Dream.

Prefer to get it in person, eh? said Hob.

Yes.

You’d do numbers on OnlyFans just fyi, Hob wrote. If u ever wanted more cash. Or does Poetry & Malaise pay better than I thought?

Dream’s “career,” according to Desire.

He supposed Hob's comment was flattering, in a way. Is that your own bias, Hob? Or your considered opinion as a professional?

Both ;), said Hob.

If that is your situation, then why are you on this app, dare I ask? Most people I have encountered seem to just be interested in sex but I doubt you are suffering from a dearth of it.

What, porn stars can’t want to get married? :(

Dream could imagine his pout. It was surprisingly endearing.

THAT is why you are here?

Sure, be judgmental about it, mister “I want to get consumed.” Or was that about vore and I misread it as metaphorical?

Dream spluttered, though Hob was not physically present to see it. Indeed, Desire had written that Dream wanted “someone he could consume and be consumed by in turn,” which was surprisingly accurate considering its intention had been to mess with him.

It is not VORE, he wrote. Then followed it up with, I have frequently been accused of being intense, possessive, and overbearing.

Well then we have that in common, Hob replied. By the way, sex for work is not the same as sex with someone you really care about. Or would you feel emotionally fulfilled after fucking your colleagues?

I don’t have colleagues, said Dream.

Right, right. Poetry and malaise.

And have you achieved much emotionally fulfilling sex from this app?

No :(, said Hob.

You are too handsome for that to be the case, wrote Dream, and realized what he had said a moment after he’d hit send.

He panicked internally until Hob replied, And here I thought I was just annoying you 🥰.

I might be having a crisis over your photos myself, Hob added, but let’s not discuss it or I’ll embarrass myself.

We could discuss it in a different venue, Dream wrote, heart in his throat. I am interested also in hearing your plans to thwart death. Perhaps over drinks?

Thought you’d never ask :)

So they set a time.

--

Drinks turned quickly into tumbling into Hob’s flat turned quickly into Hob pushing Dream up against the door and kissing him senseless turned quickly into falling into Hob’s bed. Dream was feeling quite happy about his decision to go on a date with this weird, death-obsessed OnlyFans creator. He had been right about Hob giving good hugs, he had learned that when Hob had greeted him at the bar. He had also learned that Hob really knew how to use his tongue.

“Fuck, Dream,” Hob said, looking up at him, lips wet. He had his hands wrapped around Dream’s thighs and his face between Dream’s legs, and yes, Dream was feeling very satisfied with his decision, indeed. He might even have to send Desire a gift basket. “You taste so good.”

“Your mouth is ungodly,” said Dream, tipping his head back against the pillow with a groan as Hob continued teasing him with that mouth, swiping his tongue through Dream’s folds and sucking on his clit.

“Converted you to a new religion? You’re done with the void, then?”

Dream twisted his hands in Hob’s hair, holding on tight, thighs trembling, heartbeat racing in his throat. “Perhaps.”

“Is Dream your real name, by the way?” Hob asked, pushing one finger into Dream, and then quickly two, as Dream moaned and clenched down on him. “I kind of thought it was fake.”

“No,” said Dream, though it came out as another moan. “It is real.”

“Fascinating.” And he went back to torturing Dream with his mouth, fucking him deep on his fingers, until Dream was squirming and writhing under him, trying to get away from Hob’s relentlessness even as he wanted to throw himself into its fire. He felt hot, feverish, taut all over, Hob’s hands were so good, and his mouth—

“Hob,” he whined, “please.”

Hob paused, looked up at him, lips and nose wet with Dream’s fluids. Then grinned cheekily. “Yes, kitten?”

And why did something that had sounded so revolting coming from anonymous strangers only make Dream laugh when Hob said it? He laughed, a horrible, choking laugh, and Hob laughed too, incredulously. Dream could not remember ever laughing during sex, it had always been a torrid and serious affair. But Hob was so charming and handsome and Dream wanted to kiss him.

“Come,” he commanded, drawing Hob up towards him by his hair, and Hob went, and Dream brought their lips together. Hob’s mouth was slick and tasted of Dream. It was heady.

Dream wrapped a leg around his waist and pulled him closer until their bodies were pressed together, and Hob ground his cock between Dream’s legs, between his folds and against his clit. He didn’t try to actually fuck Dream, though, which Dream figured was Hob’s professional good sense considering they hadn’t discussed birth control or anything in that vein in their haste. He imagined what might have happened if he had instead gone home with Brad of the un-negotiated choking kink, and laughed despite himself.

“What are you laughing at?” asked Hob, lifting his head to look at him. He really was so appealing, with his dark eyes, hair falling long over his forehead, his voice that was much more honey-warm than Dream could have imagined over text.

“I was thinking of the catastrophe that would have resulted had I slept with one of the questionable individuals I’ve encountered on that app, and my good fortune in finding you instead.”

Hob smiled, and kissed him, a proper first date type kiss, sweet and kind. Then he said, dragging his hand through Dream’s hair, tugging on it, “Don’t think about anyone else.” He kissed Dream’s jaw, then down his neck, nipping at his skin.

Dream dug his nails into Hob’s back, into his strong shoulders as Hob ground against him. He wished Hob was fucking him. His cock felt so good even just moving between Dream’s legs, and the weight of his body over Dream’s was so grounding. Next time, maybe.

He shivered as Hob moved faster over him, claimed his mouth with a hard kiss. “Come on me,” Dream urged, pulling Hob in tighter again with his leg wrapped around his waist. He reached between them and got his hand around Hob, and Hob groaned.

“Dream—”

Dream pulled him off in time with Hob’s own thrusts, and soon felt Hob’s hips stuttering, his grip tightening in Dream’s hair. He came over Dream’s hand and stomach, breathing hard against Dream’s throat. But he didn’t pause very long to recover himself, instead slipping three fingers back into Dream, making Dream arch against him with a shout.

“Hob!”

Hob worked him mercilessly until Dream was clenching around him with a gasp, body shaking as his orgasm ramped back up and hit him, fast and hard. Hob grinned against his throat as Dream panted, then gently pulled his fingers free and raised his head to look Dream in the eye as he brought them to his mouth and sucked them clean of Dream’s spend. Fucking. Hell. And this man couldn’t find someone to marry him?

Hob kissed him again, and again it was sweet, and firm, like his hugs. Dream kissed him back, petting Hob’s hair. Pleased with the position he’d found himself in. Pleased with Hob.

“Good?” Hob asked, stroking a hand up and down his side.

“Very,” Dream sighed.

“Good,” said Hob. “For me, too.”

He kissed Dream’s cheek, and then went and got a soft wet cloth to clean them both up, and even brought Dream a glass of water. Truly Dream’s good fortune was unparalleled on this day.

Hob slipped back into bed beside him, and Dream laid on his side, head pillowed on his arm, gazing at him. Tucked an errant strand of Hob’s hair behind his ear. Ran his fingers over the stubble on Hob’s cheek. He really was quite handsome, especially mussed from sex, in the low bedroom light. Perhaps Dream was going to have to find his OnlyFans. Just so he could… take this home with him.

“You really are even prettier in person,” Hob murmured, studying him. “Although I don’t think the rest of your profile was really doing you justice.”

“That is because my sibling initially created it to annoy me,” Dream admitted. “However, I think I am the one who’s come out on top in the end.”

“That does explain some things,” Hob said with a chuckle. He took Dream’s hand and kissed his fingertips, met his eyes again. “I promise I won’t break your heart. If you stay.”

My BFF’s take on why you should date me, Desire’s profile fills had read: With luck you can be the next person to break his heart <3

Once again, it had not been entirely inaccurate. But perhaps it would be this time.

“I think I am inclined to,” he said quietly, and Hob smiled, that warm, endearing smile.

So Dream did stay that night, cuddled up in Hob’s arms. Feeling all warm inside, even when Hob had fallen asleep, and Dream was still awake, lying beside him. He often had a hard time sleeping, but he didn’t mind so much, right now. Hob was pleasant to cuddle up to, even if Dream couldn’t sleep. Hob was pleasant all around, in fact. Dream tended to fall fast and hard and he could already feel it hovering over him like a cresting wave. Fortunately, Hob didn’t seem inclined to be any more casual about him than Dream was feeling about him.

Dream thought he could get used to this.

With Hob’s arm still wrapped around his waist, Dream swiped his phone off the nightstand and opened his text thread with Desire, which still had enjoying yourself? ;) as the last message, as yet not responded to.

Having made Desire wait for several days already, Dream wrote, with a little smile, I think I am going to get married, and turned off his phone.

#yes i did create a fake hinge account mockup for dream. i will share it in a bit XD it's very silly. it took me 3 hours in photoshop #dreamling #hob gadling #dream of the endless #my writing #nsft

[cillianhead]

Red Eyes || Cillian Murphy x Reader

summary: You and Cillian take a plane trip and a certain Jackson Rippner steals his spot.

PART TWO to A New Pair Of Glasses

put my vibrator on and smoked a j and then wrote away on this one so i'm so very sorry if it is bad or strange or something.

Enjoy my lovely readers <3

warnings: SMUT!!, unprotected p in v, DUBCON AND NONCON THEMES!!!, Daddy kink, vulgar language, swearing, choking, car/airplane sex / public sex, tight spaces, handjobs, oral sex (f and m receiving + reader sucks on his balls?!), slapping, spitting, claustrophobia, roleplay (Cillian is roleplaying as Jackson Rippner), some mentions of subspace/being in subspace sort of, some more dacryphilia, degradation, overstimulation, talks of FAKE! Explosives and talks of FAKE! plane crashes, biting, fake cheating scenarios, vibrators, and general adult content!!!

LONG FIC!!

18+ MINORS DNI

Standing in the crowded airport, you leaned against Cillian for support as you waited in line to check in your bags for your flight. You were going on a trip to New York, and the flight would be almost eight hours.

"How are you feeling, love?" Cillian whispered, subtly kissing your neck. "You nervous about our flight?" "I feel a little nervous... yeah..." You nodded, smiling softly up at him. "But we'll be fine... just... you know how I get..."

"It's alright, I'll be right there with you... the whole time," He hummed, resting his chin on your shoulder. The line was long and the waiting was tedious but at least you had the comfort of your boyfriend beside you.

After checking in and waiting for your flight, which wasn't for another hour and a half, Cillian and you decided to stroll along the airport stores, hand in hand.

"What's happening with that interview you have tomorrow?" You asked, leaning on him a bit.

"Oh... erm... I've forgotten his name..." Cillian sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "It's literally something I had written down 'cause I t'aught it was funny..." Cillian groaned. "Oh... it was some bloke literally called Neil Lewis... some American guy..."

"No way," You laughed loudly, and Cillian looked at you, grinning fondly. "That's awesome, what's the interview even for?"

"I betcha a million bucks it's gonna be like sumn' about like..." He said these words while painting the air with his hands to make imaginary captions. "Neil Lewis.... and how he would react to different characters of mine..." He snickered and you laughed.

"That's a fun idea, though! Neil Lewis has always been a sweet spot of mine..." You sighed dreamily. You remembered when you and Cillian had first started talking and were only really doing all that sugar daddy stuff; you watched 'Watching The Detectives' for the first time. Of course, you hadn't seen all the Batman films at that point. You saw Inception when you were high and in some guy's Mom's garage and weren't comprehensive of what was happening except for when that one really sexy guy, Robert Fischer, showed up. That's when the movie had your attention. The guy was kissing your neck, and suddenly Robert showed up, and you didn't give a single shit about how hot the guy kissing you was; you'd look at the TV and moan louder than you did before. Neil Lewis had really awakened something else inside of you, though.

Something a little more tender.

He was just so cute, and as Violet said, 'You're like the sweetest guy I've ever met' (or something along those lines). You were sitting in a cute new little nightgown Cillian had bought you (oh, and a new vibrator with his initials carved in the middle). It was Valentine's Day, and unfortunately, he was in America shooting a film, and he wouldn't be back until the 17th. You were bratty and whiny, but you were grateful, and he knew that; you just liked to get sassy. You put on the romcom, an obvious choice as to why you picked it.

'Watching The Detectives' Starring Lucy Liu and Cillian Murphy.

You were already riled up when you saw him in the opening shot, but as time went on, you grew increasingly jealous of Violet and more in love with Neil Lewis, thus falling in love with Cillian Murphy. You remember calling Cillian up, despite the time difference, and rambling on about how cute he was in the movie.

Anyway... as you walk through the airport together and look at each other with your blazing love. Cillian lovingly kissed you on your forehead as you walked back to your gate.

"So about this flight..." Cillian cleared his throat after you walked along quietly.

"Yeah?" You hummed, tearing your eyes away from the cute dress you saw in one of those window stores and looked to Cillian with a grin.

"I won't be... erm... boarding on with you," Cillian cleared his throat. "I'm sitting in a different part of... de.... er... plane."

"What?!" You exclaimed, eyes widening and grabbing onto his arm tightly as you two swayed along. "What do you mean, Cill?"

"This flight is quite packed... and so I couldn't manage to fit us together so... yer gonna be in first class while I'm in coach..."

"What? Cillian? No... y-you take first class... you need it more than me..." You were pouting at him with the most pitiful eyes.

"No, baby... it's okay," Cillian hushed. "I'm sure you're gonna meet some guy in first class... who you can pretend is me..."

"I would never do that," You whispered, shaking your head insistently as you fiddled with the red ruby around your neck, thinking about Jonathan Crane. "Why would you say that?"

"It's okay, baby... you'll be able to sleep..." Cillian and you walked into a quiet little cafe. "They'll wake you right before we land... I doubt you'll be sittin' next to anyone since you're in first class..."

"Cillian... why didn't you tell me this sooner?" You whined, sitting down right beside him and clinging onto him while you still can.

"'Cause I know you'd never come if you realized we won't be sittin' together..."

"That's a fair point..." You mumbled, resting your head on his shoulder.

After sitting for a while and sipping the teas you had gotten from the airport coffee shop, it was time to board the plane. You wrapped your arms around Cillian and kissed him passionately.

"I'm gonna miss you so much... Cill..." You whispered against his lips breathily.

"I know, baby," He hummed, stroking your hair. "You're gonna do so good for me... you can handle it... I love you so much..."

"I love you..."

You couldn't dare look back as you walked off with just the weight of your onboard bag. You found your seat... and fuck, it was nice, you had plenty of legroom, and you could even push your headrest back so you could lie down. You watched people start to board the rest of the plane, waiting to see Cillian walk past, but he never did. You sighed and rested back in your seat, buckling up for the takeoff that always made you anxious.

"...F7... F8... Oh, here we go..." You heard an American accent from behind you and turned to look Cillian in the eyes. He had styled his hair differently and was wearing a completely different outfit from what he was wearing before. Cillian smirked as he coldly approached, and you realized what he was doing. He was being Jackson. Honestly, you had completely forgotten about that conversation you two had and didn't expect Cillian to follow through with it. "Oh, hello, seems we're sitting together?" He gave you a strange smile as he sat beside you and smirked. "The name's Jackson..." He reached out his hand for you to shake.

"Oh... it's... it's Y/N..." You smiled, playing along. It was unnerving the way he moved and spoke. It was truly like it was just another person who happened to look exactly like Cillian. Jackson shook your hand with a nod before receding back into his chair beside you.

The flight took off, and you clutched onto your seat for dear life, trying to ignore the feeling of having Jackson's eyes on you the whole time.

"You're a very pretty girl..." He hummed once you were in the air and could unbuckle yourself, looking at you with a tilted head and lustful eyes. "You got a boyfriend?" He asked as if he were interested.

"Y-Yes..." You nodded, feeling flustered, playing along with a hidden grin.

"Aw... that's a shame," He cooed mockingly. "If only he had been here... to protect you..."

"Wh-What?" You looked at him with furrowed eyebrows, laughing nervously. He just shook his head, scratching at his stubbly chin.

"Oh, don't worry," He reassured, mocking your trembling lip with a pout of his own. "I'm gonna take good care of you... sweetheart..."

"How... how...?" You stammered.

"You stupid slut," He spat, rolling his eyes at how pathetic you were. "You know how I'm gonna take care of ya..." Jackson's mouth got real close to your ear as he spoke the words, "I'm gonna fill that perfect little pussy with my seed..." He hissed.

"No... you can't... please..." You whimpered. About five or six people were sitting in the first-class cabin, yet luckily, none were sitting in front of you or behind you. "My boyfriend's in the... other cabin..."

"Oh, I know all about your little boyfriend... in fact... in the left pocket of his jacket... you see... I've been taking some sewing classes... and I was in your room one night while you were there, and he wasn't..." He laughed dryly, licking his teeth as he sucked in more air to speak. Your eyes were wide with horror and dismay... yet your legs squeezed together with arousal. "Anyway... as I was saying, in the pocket in his jacket is a tiny... yet very powerful explosive..."

"Wh-What...?" You panicked, speaking a bit too loudly. Jackson slapped a hand over your mouth to keep you quiet.

"If you don't do everything I say, I've got the remote here in my pocket and this whole fuckin' plane will go down over the Atlantic," He whispered, only loud enough for you to hear. "Do you hear me, bitch? I'm an impatient man. You're going to do every fuckin' thing I tell you to do or say bye-bye to your boyfriend and the death of everyone on this fuckin' plane..."

You nodded your head desperately, tears slipping down your cheeks. He pulled his hand off of your mouth and wiped your spit off his hand with your shirt. "I understand..."

"Good," He said gruffly, checking his watch. "They won't be bringing out any of the meals for another hour, so I say we have a little... fun while we wait for our meals... and then, of course... there'll be dessert after our dinner..." Jackson smirked.

"We'll get caught... we'll get in trouble," You protested, tucking your knees up into your chest.

"Oh babydoll, don't you know what I do for a living?" He snarked, flashing his sharp teeth at you in that cold, threatening smile. "I know how to do many things... and not get caught..." He whispered into your ear, biting at your neck. "Now open your legs for me. I'm gonna put this cute little vibrator in your pussy, do you understand?" "Al-Alright..." You slowly opened your legs. Your shorts were loose and thin, so you felt him slip his fingers up your thighs and in through the sides of your underwear.

"Fuck, you're soaking for me, princess..." He panted in your ear as he easily pressed two fingers into your cunt. "Doesn't that boyfriend of yours treat you well enough?" He teased. "I wasn't expecting you to be this turned on... I bet he doesn't make you cum enough, is that it?" His fingers began massaging your already sensitive G-spot.

"O-Oh... god..." Your head fell low as he continued panting in your ear, clearly getting affected by how good it felt to have his fingers inside of you. His cock strained against his tight sweatpants. "Jackson..."

"Wow, you gave in to that easily," He laughed, and you felt ashamed at how good you were feeling and how hard you were trying not to make much noise. It was good. The lights were quite dim since it was an overnight flight... everyone else was asleep or had their earbuds in. "You've gotta stay quiet, don't make me gag you," He demanded quietly as you saw the small pink vibrator that perfectly sucked on your throbbing clit. He slipped it into your underwear and turned it on... it was dead silent, but you could feel the intense vibrations. "Look at you, squirmin' for me, and that's only the first setting." His American accent was sickening and impossibly sexy.

"Jackson... I can't... it's too much," You dug your fingernails into the leather seats, clenching your teeth together. Your pussy quivered as he slipped his left hand into your underwear and covered you in a blanket provided to first-class flyers. Anyone walking by wouldn't even notice where his hand placement was. "I'm too... sensitive... it's too much, Daddy..." You whined, pressing your face into his shoulder and biting down on the material of his coat to quieten your stifled moans.

"Wow, look at that, I've got you calling me daddy..." He snorted, leaning back in his chair as he finger-fucked you and turned up the setting on your vibrator that sent crippling waves of pleasure through you. "Bet your real daddy wouldn't be too happy to hear that sweetheart..."

"You're not... you're not my daddy... it was a mistake..." You mewled quietly.

"I am right now, sweetheart," He took a whiff of your hair and bit back a groan. He was so turned on right now, and he wanted to drag you into the bathrooms and fuck you right now, but he wanted to prolong the pleasure for as long as possible. "I'm your daddy, say it... I'm gonna fuck you so much better than your daddy... gonna show you how a real man likes to fuck."

You caved in on yourself, squirming further into a ball as your entire body tensed. Your pussy clenched onto his fingers. Every time he flicked them out of you, a quiet yet distinct squelch of your arousal would be heard. Your orgasm lit you on fire, and he didn't slow down. In fact, his fingers moved even more precisely against your G-spot, causing you to croak and bury your face in your hands. You saw stars as you gushed around his fingers, and Jackson showed no signs of stopping as you came down from your high.

"Jackson... stop... stop it..." You cried, tears streaming down your face. "It hurts!"

"Oh, shut up, you spoiled brat," He grumbled, continuing to fuck you brutally with his talented fingers. "I saw what you did with that little doctor last week," He chuckled. "Your blinds are never closed... anyone passing by could see you whoring yourself out to other men..."

"Jackson, please... I just... I just need a break..." You whispered, flinching every time he massaged your spongy walls. He slowed down his fingers just a bit, it was enough to give you some relief.

"Does your daddy know about what you did with that doctor?" Jackson chuckled. "Imagine when he finds out about that... and finds out about... what you did with me on the plane..." He was getting off on your tears of guilt. "What a shame..." He whispered. "Especially since this means he'll have to cancel the reservation at that restaurant where... I'm pretty sure I saw him out shopping... the same day you fucked your doctor... could he have possibly bought a ring?" Jackson laughed mischievously. It would sound like someone told a funny joke to anyone else but to you... it was bloodcurdling at the realization of what he was implying.

"N-No..." You whispered, clutching at his wrist to slow him down.

"Would you have married him, or are you too much of a whore to settle down?" You could tell there was a deeper meaning in that question. Obviously, he was still playing along with the character. But you realized he wanted to know if you were ready for him to propose.

"Of... of course, I would have... I want to spend my whole life with him..." You whispered. "I... I... he doesn't have to know about what happened between my doctor and I..."

"I'll keep my mouth shut," He smiled with a rosy blush on his cheeks... burning through his cold demeanor. He grabbed a hold of you and kissed you sloppily, tongues and spit clashing together. He made out with you as he picked up the speed, and he was probably playing a dangerous game here by reaching up and groping at your tits. But the plane was dead silent, and he was getting desperate.

"Oh fuck... oh fuck..." You whimpered as he ran soft circles over your shirt, perfectly teasing your hard nipples. "I'm... cumming...." You whispered, arching your back into his hands, and you heard the familiar sound of him clicking the button to turn the vibrator up. You quietly thrashed around as he milked you for all you had.

"That's it... make even more of a mess all over my fingers..." He cooed, watching you throw your head back with your vision going black. "Such a fucking slut..." He grunted as he pulled his sticky fingers out from your underwear and popped them in his mouth. You watched, still mewling and squirming around with pleasure as you came. He closed his eyes and groaned with satisfaction as he licked his fingers clean. "Open your mouth,"

Hesitantly, you opened your mouth, and he grabbed your jaw roughly and spat onto your tongue. You moaned at the taste.

"Swallow it, bitch," He barked quietly, turning off the vibrator and slipping it back into his pocket. You had no idea how he managed to get that thing through checkage, but right now, you were too fucked out to care. "That's it..." He sighed happily as you gulped his spit down.

"Jackson..." You whispered, chest rising rapidly. "Need a break..." Jackson scoffed. "You're not gettin' one, princess," He chuckled darkly in your ear. "Right now, you're gettin' up and going into that bathroom there..." He points to the first-class bathroom. "And in five minutes, I will follow in after you... and you're going to take my cock... like a good girl..."

You opened your mouth to protest but he looked away with a firm nod of his head. "Go on, Y/N, or I'll fuck you right here."

You hurriedly stood up on shaky legs, smoothing out your shorts, and tried your best to act casual as you made your way to the tiny stall at the end of the aisle. Jackson's eyes burnt holes in the back of your head. You glanced back at him momentarily to see him smirking at you devilishly.

The bathroom was small and tight, but it was enough to fit you in it {almost} comfortably. The following five minutes were long and torturous as you looked at yourself in the mirror. Your once neatly combed hair was now messed up like you had just gotten out of bed. Anxiously and insensibly, you looked over yourself in the mirror, making sure you looked good and fuckable for your boyfriend. Two soft raps were heard in your stall.

"It's me," Jackson mumbled. "Let me in."

You quickly unlocked the door, and just as quickly as it opened, it was closed and locked. Jackson didn't say a word; he just grabbed you by the throat and pushed you up against the wall. Fuck, it was cramped in here with the two of you. He immediately latched himself onto your neck and you had to slap a hand over your mouth to stop you from crying as his hands worked to undoing your top and bra.

"Fucking hell, of course you've got perfect tits," Jackson groaned, lowering his mouth even more to pop your nipples into his mouth. Jackson's mean glare relaxed into shut eyes and furrowed brows of concentration. He moaned into your tits as he now slid down your shorts til you were just in your shorts and your blouse was wide open. "Whore..." He growled demeaningly as he was now face to face with your throbbing cunt. "Look how wet your panties are..." He whispered, tracing his fingers along your clothed slit. "This all for me?" He smirked as he pushed your panties to the side and kissed your clit.

"Oh... oh... god... J-Jackson..." You whined breathily, pushing your hands into his hair as he sucked on your clit like it was a cherry lollipop. His lips sucked harshly on your bud as his tongue slipped down and lapped your arousal up. His mouth was sinfully talented, and with the impending pleasure, you squeezed his head with your quivering thighs. "Fuck... you eat my pussy so good... fuck... oh..." You were giving it everything you had to not scream as he slipped two fingers into your juice-gushing cunt.

You were simply the sweetest of them all. Cillian grew high off of the way you tasted. It was like no other, truly incomparable to anything. None of the ripest and sweetest fruits could even begin to beat the taste of you. He'd happily die right here with your pussy in his mouth and the sound of your pretty sighs. Despite the deafening grip your thighs had on his skull, he was reveling in the way he was completely wrapped up in you. Like you were a spider luring in prey, and now you've caught it. But let's not forget who's in charge here... of course, it's Jackson. He's not eating pussy to get her off. He's eating pussy to get himself off. It doesn't matter if she screams or cries for him to stop. If that's what he wants, he'll drink her up like the essence of life for the rest of time. And oh, how good your fucked out pussy tasted. Jackson made you cum over and over again on his tongue until you were sobbing and trying to shove him away from you, but you were so fucking dizzy and still in the middle of cumming, so you had the strength of a twig.

"Pl-Please... Jackson..." You mewled, tugging on the roots of his hair to get him off of your pounding cunt. "It's too much... please... it's too much... fuck... stop... please!"

Tears were streaming down your face, and with your blurred vision, you looked down to see Jackson's newly opened ice-cold eyes staring straight up at you. You had seen that look from him a million times. You knew how much Cillian loved eating your pussy, and at this point, it wasn't even about being his character but enjoying the feeling of your heavenly sex in his mouth. The look in his eyes was identical to what a blood-drunk beast would look like as it devoured its unwilling and innocent victim. His pupils were blown wide, and his nostrils flared at the sight of your overstimulated tears. And this only made his cock that much harder.

"I'm serious, stop... please..." You whimpered, eyes falling in and out of focus. It truly felt like he was consuming you. "F-Fuck... you've had enough... please... Jacks... Jackson..." Your head falls back as you dissociate from reality. The confined space of being in this airplane bathroom with him wasn't helping with the overstimulation. Jackson had you cornered, as a predator would with its prey, and there truly was nowhere else for you to go from here.

"Alright..." He panted, lips smeared in cum and arousal as well as his own spit. "Time for me to fill you with my fucking babies."

"Just need a break... please... I need a break..." You wheezed, leaning against the wall for support. "Please... Jackson... I don't think I can handle it..."

"Oh, but that's not what your cute little pussy is saying... is it now?" He purred, spreading your folds open with two lazy fingers to peek at the sight of your dripping hole. "I'm fucking you whether you like it or not, princess... don't fucking deny me of what I'm so fucking entitled to..." He growled as he manhandled you into being in a more bent over position. You were completely helpless to him now. "If you even make a noise, I swear to god..." He huffed as he shoved your now discarded panties into your mouth to gag you. You let your head hang low with shame as you heard him undo his belt and zipper. "You're gonna enjoy this, I know you are," He whispered condescendingly into your ear, swiping a falling teardrop off of your cheek and licking it off of his thumb.

Your eyes squeezed shut as he poked at your entrance with the thick head of his cock, slowly teasing it in and out. Not enough to honestly give you anything, but just enough to rile you up. You pressed your ass back into his hips, and he willingly slipped in his cock. Despite how overstimulated you were just moments ago... your pussy changed its mind and decided it needed cock like your entire life depended on it.

"Look at that," He cooed as he slowly rutted his dick in and out of you. "I didn't think you'd fit so snugly around my cock. I thought you were gonna be a loose whore based on all the men you sleep with..." He said, and you mumbled through your cotton panties, but it barely made a sound. "Fuck... I see why he wants to marry you now..." Jackson hissed as he began truly pistoning his cock in and out of you. The wet noises were disgustingly loud, and anyone walking past could hear what was happening and immediately be suspicious. As well as the sound of his hips clapping with your ass as he fed you with his cock. Your mind was completely blank, like a loading screen almost the feeling of his dick was the only thing that mattered to you, your mind barely perceiving anything else.

The claustrophobia you felt before was non-existent, and it no longer was clear to you that you were literally in an airplane bathroom. You felt like you genuinely just were made to be fucked in the best way possible. Only by Cillian, of course... or well... uh... Jonathan... or Jackson...

"Excuse me?!" A knock from the outside pulled you out of your dumb whore state and made you look back at Jackson with a panicked expression. "How much longer are you gonna be in there? I really need to use this bathroom!"

"Too bad, wait for another one," Jackson grunted to the unwanted customer. "I'm gonna be a while."

"For fuck's sake..." The stranger grumbled before you heard the sound of them waddling away.

"You heard that?" Jackson growled in your ear, piercing your G-spot with every thrust of his hips. "I'm gonna take my sweet time with you, princess..." He moaned, hips trembling a bit at how good it felt to fuck you like this. The thrill of doing this was also an aphrodisiac to this situation, only fueling the fire. Of course, you'd done sneaky little things like this with Cillian before, but nothing this... outrageous... this risky. "How will your boyfriend feel about getting back to your hotel to find you full of another man's cum?" Jackson was groaning quietly. He was on the edge of bursting inside of her, but he wanted to hold on just a little longer. "He's not gonna be very happy, hmm?" He laughed at your tears, feeling the way you squeezed around him and told him you were starting another orgasm. And holding on to the edge was getting much harder for Jackson... with the way your cunt was absolutely trying to milk him for his cum.

"Mmmphhff!!" You moaned through your cotton gag, now soaked in your spit. Jackson laughed at the sounds you were making. He grabbed ahold of you by your hair while also keeping a steady grip on your lower back to keep you in place. He yanked on your hair like you were just a doll and looked at your big red eyes, sore from all the crying.

"Keep on cryin' like that, baby," He huffed, squinting his eyes on your orgasmic face. "Gonna spill my load into you cause of how fucking pretty you look when you cry..."

You cried in shame and embarrassment but also in pure pleasure that he was making you feel with his cock alone. You felt the hot spurts of cum begin to fill you up, and with that sensation alone, you felt yourself coming undone again. Jackson used you like a fleshlight, painting the inside of you white with his seed and getting off on how fucking pathetic you looked with tears smeared all over your face as well as your tits hanging out of your top. He looked away from your wet face to your coincidentally gushing pussy. He had never seen you so wet before, and his cock slid in and out of you like a waterslide. His cum was spilling out of you as his orgasm intensified at the beautiful sight of what his cock was doing to you.

"Shit," He hissed. His movements were sloppy, but it didn't matter to you because you had pretty much left this realm with how fucked-out you were. "Fuck, I need you to have my kids," He cried out, and you noticed that little bit of Irish slip out in his shaky voice. "Need to see ya pregnant... and fuck... fuckin' plump with my baby in ya... and... everyone will know who you fuckin' belong to..." Cillian whimpered, his hands now on both of your hips as he stilled himself completely. He shot the last squirts of cum deep into your womb.

He panted heavily as he remained inside of you. You both came down from your highs collectively. He slowly pulled out of you and that softness that lingered in the air immediately dissipated as he pushed you roughly down on your knees, face smushed against his wet cock.

"Lick me clean, slut," He commanded, hand placing your head firmly against his cock. "Want to see how good you are with your mouth."

You closed your eyes as you sucked off his cock. He was biting his lip to keep in the soft moans. His cock was still highly sensitive, but fuck... the feeling of you licking and sucking on him like he was a lollipop or some kind of sweet treat. He watched you with hooded eyes as you kissed down his clean shaft, now only coated in your saliva. Your lips wrapped around one of his balls, and swirled your tongue around them softly. He let out a loud gasp, growing properly hard again at the feeling of your mouth on his balls.

"Fuck... open your mouth... I'm gonna cum again... fucking hell..." Jackson grumbled, pushing you off of him and stroked his cock with his tip on your tongue. "I want you to swallow every last drop..."

"Yes... sir..." You nodded obediently, mouth watering, ready for the taste of his cum on your tongue.

With one last groan, he released his sperm into your waiting mouth. "Oh... fuck... princesss..." He sighed, cum spilling from your full mouth. As you tried to gulp it all down. His cock twitched a few more times before he stopped and pulled away, panting for air.

You licked your cum-covered lips and chin, smiling dopily like you were stoned. He tucked himself carefully back into his underwear and did his pants and belt back up, all while smirking at you.

"Jackson..." You whispered, melting to the floor after putting your underwear back on.

"Cillian, now, love," He whispered, crouching before you to help you back onto your feet. "You did so good for me... I'm so in love with ya..." He kissed along your face, holding you in his arms. "It's okay... baby girl, I'm right here," You buried your face in his neck and breathed heavily. You stood there while hugging until Cillian was fully dressed and stepped out. You waited it out in there for a little longer. You looked at yourself with red eyes and a dazed expression on your face. What had just happened to you, if anyone were to see you, was pretty clear. So as you slipped out of the bathroom, you didn't notice the two air hostesses watching you leave the bathroom that reeked of sex and cum now.

Cillian was sitting calmly, reading a book, and when he looked up at you, his eyes were full of love and also a look of concern.

"You alright, baby?" He hummed, stroking your hair affectionately. You nodded and pushed your face into his soft shirt, whining. "What is it? Did I hurt you too much?" He whispered with knitted eyebrows.

"N-No... daddy..." You whispered and he knew immediately what was wrong.

"Oh... baby," He hummed, quickly realizing you could push the armrest between you up, and he did just that, scooting closer to you and pulling your legs over his lap to cradle you more. "You sweet thing... you did so good for me," He praised lovingly, leaning down and kissing you softly. The position was a little suggestive to onlookers but not quite enough to necessarily get you in any trouble. "You're so fuckin' beautiful," He whispered with your spit drenching his lips, teeth, and chin. "Best girl... my best girl," He muttered before placing wet, sloppy kisses on the crowns of your forehead. "I love you..."

"I love you... Cill..." You smiled sleepily up at him, pussy mildly throbbing as you looked up at him. You just felt heavy with love and primal desire. It was hard to even focus on what you were saying or doing. Too preoccupied with taking in everything Cillian was doing. In a way, it was as if you were feeling everything he was feeling as if you had become one in mind and soul, both just existing, eternally connected and synced. It was symbiotic and so full of love. "You take such good care of me..."

Cillian laughed softly and kissed your face harder. "I could never care more about anything than you..." He hummed into your scalp. "You're my girl... you're... my world."

After those six words, nothing else really was comprehensive for you. You two cuddled up for the rest of the flight until you were made to buckle up for the touchdown. The long and treacherous journey of getting off an airplane into one of the busiest airports in the world was all a mind-numbing bore to you, and all your mind could really focus on was that Cillian was by your side with his hand resting on your lower back, guiding you through the maze-like hallways. In fact, you were in a trance at the way his arms looked carrying the heavy bags. You practically drooling with your lips parted, nearly wanting to take a bite from him. His arms drove you crazy, and the pure strength that he radiated from his body... that older, warm man.. sort of energy.

"C'mon, honey, this way, we're catchin' a car," He wrapped you up in one of his arms as he pushed along the trolley with your suitcases on it. "Don't wanna lose ya in New York City..." Cillian chuckled, and you just smiled up at him, silently looking around in amazement. "Still bein' quiet for me? Tha's okay, love, take your time..." He whispered sweetly.

You sat in the back of a black car, headed to a hotel on the city's other side. You sat in the middle, leaning on Cillian to rest as he looked down at you, the rising sun shining on his face angelically.

"Cillian..." You mumbled into his shoulder. "I'm cold."

"Yeah, baby, that's okay... you can hug me, c'mere... let me hold ya..."

This time, Cillian wrapped you up into his arms and ran his hands up and down your body. Checking into the lobby was long and tedious and dealing with Americans and other women ogling at Cillian made you want to puke your guts out. Like... stop looking at him like that. It was irritating the way they looked at you too, but at this point, you were too tired to care.

"Go on, baby... they've already sent our luggage to our room. I'll meet you there... Just gonna get us a snack..." He whispered in your ear as he was speaking to the receptionist. "It's okay..." He slid you one of the key cards to the room and patted you on the back. Hesitantly, you looked at him with a pout before walking to the elevator to find your room.

You were on one of the top floors of the tall building, and the hallways were long and white and blinding. It took you around another ten minutes to find your room. You sighed as you unlocked the door at the sound of a loud *BEEP* and waddled your way in; you let out a bloodcurdling scream at the sight of a man sitting on your bed with a sickening smile.

"Hello, darling," Jackson's cold voice chuckled in the dark. "I guess you weren't expecting me..." He laughed as he stood up from the bed. Your heart dropped, and part of you panicked... stupidly, you knew it was just Cillian continuing this little affair you were having. But part of you genuinely believed that it was Jackson, and you thought Cillian was downstairs, utterly unaware of this. He was so convincing.

"Wh-What...?" You murmured dumbly as he walked over to the door and locked it behind you.

"Oh darling, did you miss me?" His eyes in the dark were still eerily bright and unnerving, pupils blown wide as he looked at you like an owl in the night. "I bet your little pussy did," He said in faux sympathy, his hand cupping you through your shorts. You still hadn't fully recovered from what you two did just four hours ago, or however long it had been. "I can feel how hot you are for me..." Jackson spat. You were so entranced by what was happening that you didn't notice the complete outfit change. He was wearing a full suit. How would Cillian have time to beat you to your room and also get changed into a nice suit? But you didn't care. He was here, and that was all that mattered.

"Jack-Jackson... Cillian will be back... at any moment..." You whimpered as he pinned you against the wall and tugged your shorts down. "He'll... He'll hurt you... for touching me!" Jackson laughed wildly at your whimpering.

"Oh baby, I'd like to see him try," His laugh was sadistic and that of a villain's. "Think I'd... strap him to a chair and make him watch as I fuck you better than he ever could..." Jackson growled, pulling off his clothes. "Imagine how jealous he'd be... seein' me treat you like a whore, taking my cock so nicely... bet he'd never be able to look at you the same way again..."

"Jackson..." You said with tears in your eyes.

"Oh, you gonna cry more?" He snickered as he curled his fingers around your throat and pushed you down onto the bed. As quickly as you fell, he was on top of you, undoing his pants. "Fucking hell... thought about this tight pussy... gonna have to fill it with all of my cum..."

"Pl-Please... I'm still too sensitive..." You whispered and squeezed your eyes shut as he pulled your shorts down completely and ripped open your shirt. He was treating you like an inanimate object.

"Oh shut up, I know you fucking want me," He huffed. Your underwear was pushed to the side now, and the tip of his cock was pressing into your used hole. "Fuck..." Jackson groaned, shutting his eyes as your cunt squeezed around him like a vice.

"Please... I can't... I can't do anymore..." You cried, trying to push him off you, but it was no use. Your arms were like noodles at the moment. "Jackson..."

"Your pussy says otherwise," He laughed menacingly before slowly pulling back out with just his thick head in you. "You're so cute when you cry..." He snapped his hips back into you roughly, and you mewled as he brushed against your G-spot.

"Oh!" You cried. His hands groped at your tits as he began fucking you like some sort of inanimate sex doll. You couldn't deny the pleasure that was mixed in with the pain. It was all-consuming and truly debilitating. "Fuck..." Tears were slipping down your face as your body bounced with each thrust.

Jackson was fucking you like a feral animal, with absolutely no concern as to how you were feeling. Sweat was dripping down his neck, his pelvis slapping against your swollen clit, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your trembling body. God, it was shameful how good he fucked you. Cillian was really giving it his all to be this character.

"So fucking easy," He grunted. "You're such a fucking whore..." He growled. His American accent was spot on and eerily felt like someone else was talking and not Cillian.

"J-Jackson... you need to slow down... you're hurting me..." You whined as he pulled out of you and shoved you over onto your stomach before shoving his fat cock back in you. "O-Oh!" You choked out, reaching out your arms and gripping the bedsheets. "Slow... slow down... Jackson..." You whined, pressing your face into the sheets as you moaned pathetically.

"Shut the fuck up," He hissed, holding your plush hips in his hands as he rocked you back and forth on his cock. Jackson was loving the sight of your ass bouncing back and forth while he fucked you like a doll. The way he was fucking you was simply animalistic. Like he was the predator and you were the prey, he had found your weak spot, and he was now tearing you open, licking his teeth as he prepared you to eat. "Take my cock like a good girl would, bitch."

"Fuuuuuuck...." You cried out dizzily, mouth gaping wide as he tugged on your hair from behind. It was like a shot out of a porno, the sickening way his skin slapped against yours, or the way his hips were like literal pistons, drilling in and out of you. Meanwhile, the harsh grip on your hair was lulling you into a state of pure sex. You truly did not give a fuck what was happening, too distracted and in love with the fullness of his cock, fucking like all you were good for. "Jackson... Jackson.... please... fuck... please!" You weren't quite sure what you were trying to say. Your brain was no longer in coerce with your teeth and tongue and you were just spewing out broken sentences.

"What? You gonna cum?" He laughed sadistically. "That's right, cum on my dick, get it wet."

"Ernghhggghhg....." You drooled, moaning as he dropped your hair and quickly grabbed at your ass to fuck you further into your orgasm. Gee, you hoped the walls were thick with how loud you were being. With the slamming headboard and the way you were screaming for it, the surrounding hotel guests and people passing by in the hallways outside would surely hear every echo of it.

"So pretty when you're cockdrunk," Jackson grunted. "Bet your pretty boyfriend never fucks you like this... bet he's never got you seein' stars," His American accent made you squeeze. And in a way, he was right. You had never been so thoroughly spent as you were right now, and every nerve in your being was lit in some sort of rampageous flame and was endlessly burning in the pleasure. "Mmmm... I'm right... and you know it." He slapped your ass hard, having you seeing stars hanging around the room.

"J-Jaaaaccck...." You whined, pussy clenching down on his cock.

"Fuck..." He hissed disapprovingly. "Don't fuckin' do that, bitch... I'm not cumming in you yet."

"Please..." You whined. "Please, I need you... daddy... please..."

At this point, you were too dumb to realize it truly wasn't Cillian who was fucking you. You'd never call another man daddy if it weren't Cillian, no matter how in love or obsessed you were with that person, no man could ever be your daddy the way Cillian is. There was something fundamentally twisted inside of you that you didn't realize or immediately recognize the fact that this cock wasn't uncut and was a different shape. But anyway... on with the story...

"Aw... daddy?" He cooed mockingly. "You need your daddy?" Jackson cackled, gripping your hips in a painfully hard way, enough to leave hand-shaped bruises. "That's right, I'll cum in you... you can make me a daddy..." He smirked. "You're gonna take all that cum I give you and make us a fuckin' baby."

"Fuck... whatever you want..." You sighed, still delirious on pleasure. "Please... just want you to cum in me... please..."

Jackson chuffed cheekily and continued using you like some sort of cum-dump. "You're gonna do good in being full of my cum... I think you'll be able to handle it."

You nodded helplessly; your ass and your hips were throbbing with the way he was holding you. A never-ending give-and-take pushing you over the edge over and over again. It was a miracle when he finally came, groaning and moaning.

"Fuck, take it, milk my fucking cock," Jackson moaned loudly, throwing his head back and his hair splayed out on his face. His cum was thick and strong, hitting you like some sort of shotgun. You moaned with each spurt, gasping for air with how much arousal you were spilling from your used cunt.

"Oh... fuck..." You whispered, biting into your arm. "So good... so good... daddy..." He groaned as he pulled out of you and pushed you down onto the bed carelessly, not even bothering to watch how his load slowly leaked from your pussy or even to watch you finger it back in cherishingly.

"Wh-Where are you going, Cillian?" You asked softly, looking back up to meet him in the eyes. A chill went down your spine at the sight of his slightly longer hair and lighter-colored roots; he stared at you with the face of a thirty-year-old man, not a forty-year-old one. You were so confused and still so out of it.

Jackson just laughed and pulled his pants back on, grabbing his things before waving goodbye as he walked out of the room. What the fuck just happened? Cillian was doing a convincing job at how he was playing this Jackson character. You wondered how long he would be gone for. You needed comforting. You tucked yourself into bed with shaky legs and tears because Cillian wasn't there. You really needed him to hold you and to hear his voice.

Eventually, after about a dozen tears were shed, the door cracked open, and Cillian came with two small plates of cake for you to eat. "Oh baby, was I gone that long?" Cillian whispered, setting the plates down neatly on the bedside table. "I'm so sorry, my sweet girl," He whispered, sitting on the edge of the bed and kissing you on the forehead. He seemed... so... not sweaty... and different. You stayed quiet and just nodded sadly as he pulled away and quickly got changed.

He crawled into bed with you, pulling the covers up, and quickly wrapped you up in his arms. "Daddy..." You whispered.

"Mmm?" He hummed while brushing your hair with his fingers.

"You were really rough with me... just then..." "What?" He asked with a confused tone. "What do you mean? I'm so sorry... did I sit on your hand or something?" "N-No... I'm talking about when... you were just in here... doing Jackson..."

"What do you mean?" He sat you up now. You two were sitting in each other's arms and staring at each other. His eyebrows were knitted as if he didn't recall what just happened. "I did pretend to be Jackson... on the plane? Yes?" He nodded, trying to see where you were going with this.

"No... I'm not talkin' bout the plane, silly..." You shook your head, laughing softly. "Just now... in the room... when you... you know... from behind..." You bit your lip, looking down at the sheets that were covering your bare legs entangled with Cillian's.

"I haven't been in here for..." Cillian hummed while checking his watch for the time. "Twenty minutes or so?" He looked back up at you, blue eyes flashing even more confusion. "Did you fall asleep and have a wet dream about daddy?" Cillian teased, leaning in and nuzzling your cheek while giggling.

"N-No! It was real... what do you mean?" You asked, now slightly offended that Cillian was trying to trick you. But part of you was putting the pieces together in your head, even if they didn't make sense. "Cillian... I've still got your cum... dripping out of me..."

"That must've been from earlier," Cillian sighed as he laid you back down, still in a laughing fit. "You're so cute... baby... can't believe you dream about me..." Cillian laughed, not noticing your silence. He looked up at the ceiling with a big grin on his face while you just pressed your face to his chest in hopes of it calming you down. Your eyebrows were furrowed deeply, and your mouth held a heavy frown. "Do you dream about me often?"

"Yes... but this wasn't a dream... Cillian... why are you trying to make that up? I'm being serious..."

"Love, I haven't been in here this whole time..." Cillian said a bit more seriously. He ran his thumb along your cheek lovingly. "You must've just fallen asleep... and had a little sexy dream about 'ye old Jackson Rippner."

"Yeah..."

"I know how sleepy you can get," Cillian whispered before pecking you softly. He talked against your lips, and for a brief moment, as if a screen were flashing, you saw Neil Lewis talking to you hotly against your lips, his breath and yours connected. He had you pinned on the couch. It was straight out of that scene with Violet and Neil on his couch. But as quickly as it came, it left. "We did travel quite a lot."

"Yeah..." You whispered, still taken aback by your vision. "Erm... let's just go to sleep... Cillian... I'm really tired..."

"Okay... yer not upset by me are ya?" He asked softly as you laid down and got into your usual spooning position. You faced away from him with that look on your face.

"No, baby, I'm just tired..." You whispered with red eyes. "Please just hold me... I love you so much..."

"I love you too, darling..." Cillian hummed, kissing along your shoulders. "Goodnight, my love, sweet dreams."

"Goodnight..." You murmured back absentmindedly.

Eventually, Cillian was snoring softly behind you, and though you felt sleepy, you just lay there and stared at the glowing clock face. You truly felt like you were going crazy. Why would Cillian lie to you and say that that was just a dream? You glanced down at your hips, which now held faint purple bruise-like indents from where Cillian had held you so hard. That did happen, right? You didn't dream that. Your dreams are never that vivid... or realistic.

Or maybe you were that tired? You have been traveling a lot. It was literally impossible for a movie character to come to life and fuck you. Right? You're just tired and confused, that's all. It was a dream. You convinced yourself.

Just a dream.

Just a...

Harmless...

Little...

Dream...

You repeated in your head as you let yourself fall asleep.

Was it?

-

EHEHEHEH ENJOY <3 I CAN'T WAIT TO RELEASE THE THIRD PART YAYAYAAYAYY!!!

(there will be a part 3 and it'll be the last part)

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x reader #cillian x fem!reader #cillian murphy fanfic #peaky blinders imagine #thomas shelby #tommy shelby #peaky blinders #neil lewis #neil lewis smut #neil lewis x reader #watching the detectives #jackson rippner #red eye #jackson rippner x reader #jackson rippner smut

[sailoryooons]

Pinch of Sugar | One | kth (m)

Summary: As a powerful CEO - Kim Taehyung cannot afford any mistakes to his image. He has taken to the employment of sugar babies - women paid to keep quiet about how he lives his life and to positively influence his public image. But when a contract goes sour and his last sugar baby exposes Taehyung, he needs someone softer to sweeten up his image. And you are just the pinch of sugar he needs.

♦ Pairing: sugardaddy!Taehyung x sugarbaby!Reader

♦ Genre: sex worker, strangers to lovers, angst, smut

♦ Word Count: 12,472

♦ Rating: NSFW & 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging with this content. Any minors discovered interacting with adult content will be blocked immediately.

♦ Warnings: Explicit language, reference to sex work and paid relationships, mention of Taehyung experiencing hate and homophobia (he is a bi-sexual king) in the media, anxiety about paying bills, a little bit of ranting about economic stability and socio-economics, a little bit of insecurity about power dynamics from a monetary point of view at the end, mentions of toxic relationship with Taehyung last sugar baby - sorry, there's no sugar in this one :)

♦ Type: Series

♦ Main Masterlist: here

♦ Series Masterlist: here

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A/N: THIS STORY AS BEEN DISCONTINUED FOR NOW.

Kim Taehyung does not like inconveniences. He taps his nails on the table of the teakwood desk. For a moment, he stops to examine them. The cuticles are slightly overgrown, nails longer than they should be. He makes a mental note to ask Jimin to make an appointment for him to get a manicure. Perhaps an entire spa day.

He’s certainly stressed enough to spend an entire day somewhere in a tropical paradise while he soaks in a seaweed wrap.

The thought is pointless. Taehyung can hardly relax for an hour, much less an entire day. The thought is a funny little dream he has for himself. Something like a private joke that when he’s sitting in his office at 11 pm while all of his friends are out celebrating another promotion or a birthday, or someone getting engaged, and he can think Ah, should have taken that spa day.

The stress, however, isn’t from work today. It’s from the fucking thorn that has been growing in his side since the one thing Taehyung did indulge in to relax, got it in her head that they were an official couple.

He had addressed that immediately. Not only is it always in the contract, but it is something that Taehyung makes a topic of conversation any time his lovers get too comfortable. He is not there to date them, they are not there to change him.

Convenience.

Taehyung, above all else, admires easy. Not because he had it easy his entire life, or because he is lazy. It’s the opposite: Taehyung is constantly busy with work on the day-to-day, running an empire as a well-oiled machine and expanding technologies under Kim Tech while constantly jockeying with his father’s and peers' various demands.

He isn’t just a CEO of his father’s company. He is a lead thinker - a brain that brings an insane amount of progress, function, and ideas to the table. Taehyung must split himself between being a designer and a dreamer for their tech and being the CEO, the decision maker, the person who signs on the dotted lines.

So convenience is important – no – convenience is imperative outside of his life from work. He must move around the demands of his father and his job, and he needs efficiency. Like the artificial intelligence that he creates.

Machines are so much easier. Their idiosyncrasies make sense to him. If there’s a bug, he can go into the programming and work it out. Coding and running diagnostics and numbers are so much easier than people. Than feelings. Than people who want more of his time, who want more of him, who want more of an emotional investment that he doesn’t have time for.

First, Taehyung had tried casual dating. There are plenty of men and women looking to get their rocks off on dating apps. He's always in social settings for work: events, happy hours, galas, ribbon cutting ceremonies, charities, birthdays, anniversaries.

There's no shortage of hookups in the world.

But without boundaries and clear definitions of where things ended and began, it began to get messy. People calling and texting him when they knew they weren’t supposed to, showing one hookup favoritism because they were closer to his villa or because he liked the way one sucked dick better than the other became an issue.

Jealousy is an ugly motivator in his world.

Inconvenient.

Which is why Taehyung sought to invest in the world of people he could pay for their time. But it's more complicated than that. Taehyung is an extremely successful businessman and his father’s company that he built from the ground up had a reputation. An important name in the world.

Discretion is Taehyung's second item on the needs list, right after convenience. So he had asked around a few of his business friends: how do you go about paying someone to be discreet? What is ethical? How soundproof is this? What are the limitations?

He was given a company: Eden.

Where angels fall, Taehyung thought the first time he entered the building to meet with the founder and CEO, Kim Seokjin. He still rather likes Seokjin, despite Taehyung’s most recent contract with a veteran employee going the worst way it could.

There are still unopened text messages from Taehyung’s father. It's been almost three months, but Taehyung doesn’t have the stomach to look at them. There is no point when Kim Jaesung can tell them directly to his son’s face.

Running a hand over his face, Taehyung feels the tension twisting in his shoulders. It creeps up his neck, making it stiff and aching to turn. A spa day would be nice, but he cannot afford the time off, not when he’s close to launching an entire new artificial intelligent assistant to rival the creation of KAIA.

Kim Artificial Intelligence Assistant.

KAIA had been his father’s child – his real child if Taehyung’s childhood was anything to go by. It's changed the way the world integrated technology into everyday life. Siri vanished from phones. Alexa was no longer a household name. Google could not compete with the reactive thinking and cognitive ability of KAIA.

The many iterations of KAIA are each better than the last, and now KAIA is almost sentient. At least, it feels like that at times when Taehyung cracks a joke to himself and the robotic voice humors him. Taehyung works on KAIA’s personality coding himself, a series of complex learning behaviors and statistical numbers that make her grow with the user.

Now, he’s working on a smaller integration and one that is more cost-effective, and most importantly: affordable.

Taehyung's still fighting the battle of the pricing for whole and commercial sales - as well as in general - what the value of MAIA is. MAIA – Mini Artificial Intelligence Assistance – is a smaller version of her big sister KAIA and is meant to be accessible by the lower income division and used in charity integrations among school districts and various government-funded programs.

We already do charity, the board – including his father – has told him many times. Taehyung doesn't care. Enough people on the board of governors and investment team think that it gives them a good look – to hell with actually helping people – the PR is great.

But the god damn price. It’s something that Taehyung takes a stance on every day because affordable to the one percent is not affordable to the mass population, and definitely not affordable for those in lower income cities and neighborhoods.

Inconvenient.

Much of his work is inconvenient, and now Taehyung has gone three months without getting fucking laid because Amaya became inconvenient and outed herself as a paid employee of Kim Taehyung whom he uses for sex.

A sugar baby. A sex worker. A prostitute. An escort.

Amaya has been called all kinds of names, but she's never cared. She preyed on Taehyung’s tolerance for her breaking rules and contract.

Now he was fucking paying for being too tired to fight with her.

Taehyung’s cell phone goes off on his desk. He frowns when he sees his housekeeper calling. In all the years Merallta has worked for him, he can think of maybe two times that she's called him. One time was because Miss Ysabel had broken into Taehyung’s office and the other was because his stepmother had let herself into his home – something she never did.

So Taehyung picks up the phone, a crease already in his brow and his tone hushed. “Hi, Merallta.”

“Mr. Kim, there is something wrong with Yeontan. I think he had an allergic reaction. I’m taking him to-“

“I’ll meet you there.” He stands swiftly. “Text me the address.”

Because if there is anything in Taehyung’s life that he will tolerate being inconvenient, it is that damn dog he bought on a whim and that he loves more than anything else on the planet. Even work.

Taehyung grabs his coat and storms out the door, asking KAIA to bring the car around as he does.

-

Your eye has been twitching for two weeks. You feel it as you push the rolling chair backward, reaching to shove a manila file back into its proper place. You glance at the clock and try not to yawn. The night shift at Midway Veterinary isn’t bad – it’s usually the emergencies that happen in the middle of the night, but few are ever really life threatening.

It’s traditionally the same: my dog ate a toy, my dog has a really bad rash, my dog ate a roach trap, my cat started vomiting all over the couch.

Pet emergencies at night always feel more dangerous than those during the day. It's something about the threat of not getting to the animal hospital in time or being worried everything is closed that gets to people.

That’s where you come in.

Keeping a calm voice on the phone when pet owners dial at midnight to tell you that they dropped their hamster is always incredibly important. Though you cannot physically treat the pets themselves, your job as the front desk admin for the night shift is to keep them calm, keep them rational, and get pet parents to tell you exactly what happened.

There are plenty of times you can talk them through something on the phone. My dog accidentally ate a piece of chocolate, is he going to die? My cat swallowed a grape, what will happen?

Those are the easy answers, usually. You’ve been at Midway long enough to know when to tell them to come in or when to walk them through purging their pet’s stomach on the phone.

The door to the waiting area rips open and a man strides in through the front door. You notice several things at once, and mostly in an order that you know is not most to least important.

First: he is absolutely stunning. His golden hair looks like it's originally been styled with gel in a careful, brushed-back look with an exposed forehead. A few strands escape now – hanging artfully over his brow. It looks good – though anything would look good on him.

Dark brown eyes wide with panic, honey skin that is unblemished to the point that you feel the need to touch the breakout on your chin, a sharp jawline that you read about in smutty romance novels, and a carefully sloped nose that would look too large on anyone else but is perfect on him.

Second: you realize that he’s dressed like he just strolled off a photoshoot set somewhere. Vogue, perhaps. You’re not too in touch with fashion, much to Hoseok’s distress, but you can recognize that he knows how to dress. Black trousers, a velvet black vest, a jacket that fits specific enough to hint at it being personally tailored, and a charcoal tie.

He is exquisite.

The third thing – and probably the most important – that you notice, is the fluff in his arms as he starts speaking to you over the counter. You blink up at him, dazed and confused for a moment. He repeats himself and your brain is still trying to put the pieces together.

Very cute black and tan dog – beautiful coloring for a Pomeranian – held tightly in his arms, snout swollen and eyes bulging slightly.

“Looks like an allergic reaction,” you say, barely hearing your own voice. “Are you a current patient with us?”

“Yes, Kim Taehyung.”

Fuck. No wonder this man looks the way he does – you know the name instantly and you’re unsure how you did not recognize him in the first place. Not only was his company worth billions of dollars and in the very computer you pulled up his – Yeontan’s ­– file, but he had a massive scandal a few months prior.

Shoving all of that aside, you check them in and assure Taehyung that Yeontan will be just fine. A vet tech is out within moments, greeting Taehyung with familiarity before taking the dog from his arms and telling him to wait. Taehyung protests but you say his name with a soft voice, drawing those eyes to you.

His eyes are the most beautiful thing about him. You don’t know him at all – you know of him. In the media, in magazines, in interviews. But that cannot tell you much about a person, and from looking at the way his eyes water and the way a tech billionaire stands in front of you about to crack, you know that he is kind.

“He’ll be okay,” you assure him with a soft smile. “I sent over everything you told me. You only can’t go back because it’s a bit of a full house back there tonight with some stay overs and we’ve got a big girl back there who doesn’t like men much. Sadie is a sweety to us, but she’ll give you a good snap.”

“That’s a dog, right?”

Laughter bubbles to your lips as the joke goes over his head. “Yes, Sadie is a German Sheppard. She came from an abusive home and hates men. Though I’m sure you’re great.”

He sighs. “How long?”

“Probably not very. They’ll give him an antihistamine and give him a good check just to make sure there’s no respiratory issues.” His eyes go wide. He’s standing close to your desk, so when you reach toward him without a second thought, it’s easy to touch his hand delicately. “Yeontan will be okay. Namjoon – Doctor Kim is a wonderful vet. I’d even trust him with me.”

Taehyung deflates a little, letting out a slow breath and giving you a shaky smile. Your hand is warm where your fingers touch the top of his. You snatch your hand away, realizing how inappropriate it is to touch guests without asking.

Clearing your throat, you gesture to the waiting chairs in front of your desk. He nods and takes one, knee bouncing up and down as he begins scrolling on his phone, chewing his bottom lip.

You try to get some filing done and paperwork sent out while Taehyung waits, but it is nearly impossible. His presence eats up the room. You can smell the faint lavender and rose – a surprisingly light scent for a man who radiates something akin to power.

Now that his eyes aren’t on you, you study him over the top of your computer. His really is dressed well and the watch on his wrist that glints in the light looks expensive. He types away furiously on his phone, looking up occasionally to look at the door where the vet tech took Yeontan.

When he looks for the tenth time, you snort.

“Mr. Kim, looking at the door won’t make it any faster. It’s been ten minutes.”

“Well you said it wouldn’t take long.”

“I said it wouldn’t take long, not that it would be miraculously fast.” He sends a frown your way. You squirm under his gaze. “I spy, with my little eye, something…. Green.”

His frown deepens. “What?”

“I spy something green. Come on, you never played I spy as a kid?”

“No.”

“Well do you know how it works?”

“In theory.”

“Then what do I spy, Mr. Kim?”

His lips are rosebud pink. You wonder if they’re always that color, soft like a petal, or if perhaps its just the contrast from his tan skin. The corner of his mouth tilts upward and he raises his brow. You raise yours in return, determined to take his mind off of the obvious stress he is showing, and to entertain yourself – he is the only other person in the room.

Sighing and narrowing his eyes, Taehyung looks around the room with a renewed focus. He begins naming the obvious things – plants, books, magazines, the spray on the shelving that you sell, pictures on the wall.

Taehyung grows frustrated. You lean your chin on your hands, content to watch him purse his lips as he looks around the room.

“I think you’re cheating,” he finally concludes.

You gasp and sit up straight. “I am not cheating! I would never do such a thing.”

“I have named everything in this room that is green!”

“You have not, sir.”

“You can call me Taehyung.

You’re caught off guard by how nice he is. Though you have seen Taehyung in interviews and your friends cannot stop talking about how handsome he is, you did not entirely expect his.

He crosses his arms. “Sir is my father. I’d like it if you called me Taehyung.”

Your stomach flips a little at that. “You have not named everything in this room that is green, or you would have guess it already.” He rolls his eyes upward and you grin. “Keep guessing, Taehyung.”

“You haven’t told me your name.”

“You get my name when you find the green object in question.”

Taehyung’s face scrunches up. You fold your mouth, suppressing the urge to laugh. He looks so different than the man on the magazines. While rationally, you know what you cannot judge a book by its cover, you didn’t expect him to be… endearing.

“I’m going to tell Joon to hire a new admin.”

“Start guessing. The clock is ticking.”

Before Taehyung can make a guess, the door behind you opens. You turn as Namjoon comes out with Taehyung looking around dreamily in his arms. Taehyung shoots to his feet, approaching Namjoon with a friendly familiarity.

“Allergic reaction,” Namjoon tells Taehyung. “Has Merallta used a new cleaner or anything with rosemary in it?”

“Yes, she switched to a more environmentally friendly cleaner.”

“I think that’s what it is. While I admire your efforts to save the world one cleaner at a time, Tae, switch back to the old one.” Namjoon holds Yeontan out to Taehyung, who takes the puppy carefully in his arms. He kisses the Pomeranian on the head briefly. “I gave him some antihistamines, so he’ll be pretty sleepy. Let me know if the rash and swelling get worse.”

“Thanks, Joon.”

“No problem. Tell your brother I said hello. It’s on the house – I’ll send his report over in the morning.”

Namjoon leaves to the back. Taehyung nuzzles Yeontan slightly – you smile and look away, cheeks heating at the sight. While you are certainly not working the grave yard shift at the animal hospital for the men and their pets, it does help.

Taehyung approaches the desk, absently stroking Taehyung’s fur lightly.

“So what was it?”

“Hmm?”

“The object.”

“I guess you will never know.”

“But I wanted to know your name.”

“Hmm.” You giving him a thoughtful look. “I suppose I can take pity on you this one time. It’s y/n.”

“Y/n,” he repeats. “Cute.”

“Thanks, my parents gave it to me.”

He smirks. “I wasn’t talking about the name.” He glances you up and down and you feel a flush through your cheek and neck. Suddenly, your desk area is too warm and your hands feel clammy and sticky. “Have a great evening. And thanks.”

“For what?”

“Distracting me,” he smiles.

You watch Taehyung leave while cooing at Yeontan. Cute. He called you cute. While it feels novel, you know that it means nothing. Because though you shared a few moments with Kim Taehyung, someone that most women and men alike would kill for, it doesn’t mean anything. It is a moment you’ll think about later when you go home and stare at the leaky ceiling of your apartment, but chances are that Kim Taehyung will never think about it again.

You’re just not in the same world.

-

Pressing your fingers into your temples, you close your eyes. You want to forget the number on the bill, to pretend that you can’t see it. But even behind closed eyes, you see the daunting figures there.

You always knew that being an adult is work. You never realized that being an adult is work, and then additionally constantly worrying about weather or not you were going to be able to pay a bill. With the way the world is going, rent is already impossibly high, gas is so bad you started taking the train to your weekend job despite it often making you late, and electricity is going through the roof.

Something about gas being more expensive worldwide – though in reality, you know that it was another reason for corporations to squeeze money out of the masses.

God. You’re starting to sound like Yoongi, thinking that way. On his worst nights, he nurses a glass of terrible whiskey and pretends he's been able to afford something smoother, and rants about the way the world is built to crush anyone who isn’t in the one percent.

While you're inclined to agree with him, it's something that you try not to consider.

Yoongi comes stumbling out of his make-shift room, hoodie pulled up over his head. You look up at him. His face is swollen with sleep, eyes barely open. His black hair is hanging in his face – you realize you're going to need to give him a haircut soon – and he has dark circles under his eyes again.

Wordlessly, you slide a cup of coffee over to him that you had poured five minutes prior. It’s how he likes it – single splash of milk, no sugar. He grunts and takes the mug, sipping and making a face.

“It’s a shitty brand,” you defend before he can complain. “I don’t know what you want from me.”

“Can’t you steal coffee from work?”

“Yeah right. Brian takes employee theft so seriously. Hoseok took a cup of tea home with him when he wasn’t on break and Brian threatened to fire him.”

“Brian is a prick.”

“Yeah, well he’s a middle-aged white man running a coffee shop owned by a corporation.”

Yoongi huffs. “Fair. Are you at the vet today or the coffee shop?”

“Coffee shop.” You pause, chewing on your lip. Slowly, you push the electricity bill over to your roommate. He looks at it before choking on his coffee, holding the piece of paper closer to his face as though he is reading the numbers wrong. “Yeah.”

“We already keep this place on fucking 80 and unplug all of our shit.”

“I know.” He slams the bill down on the counter.

Living with Yoongi has always had perks. He’s silent, he’s incredibly clean, he minds his business, and most importantly, pays half of the rent. But over the last few years as you searched for writing jobs to better support you than working four days a week at a vet desk and three days a week – sometimes four – at a coffee shop, you’ve been unlucky.

Yoongi is already working insane hours at a music store down the street, pulling extra shifts to do inventory and working holidays. With the money between you, you are just making rent and bills with enough left over to pay for food and one or two miscellaneous items.

And things just keep going up. Rent. Gas. Food. Utilities. Neither of you have insurance – you suffer through cold months hoping you don’t get respiratory infections and you cannot image what either one of you will do when the air conditioning finally bites the dust. It’s been leaking freon for months, kicking on and off at odd times.

“I’m going to apply to that corner store.” He runs a hand over his face. “I’ll head there today-"

“Yoongi, you have so much going on with music, no. I’ll pick up extra shifts.”

But he’s already shaking his head and waving you off. “You can’t. You’re already going straight from one place to the other already. Music can wait. It’s not like it’s getting me fucking anywhere.” His tone is final. You deflate. “We’ll be fine.”

Yoongi’s words play in your head on loop as you finish paying your student loans on your phone while riding the train to the coffee shop. You’re working the afternoon shift on a Saturday, which is a bit unusual for you, but someone put the shift up for grabs and you weren’t going to turn down money.

Grey skies stretch overhead. You can smell the rain on the air as you tie an apron around your waist, standing in the grimy alleyway that leads to the back of Sugar’d, a ridiculously named and ridiculously overpriced coffee shop. It’s one of many in the city, but it’s the closest to your apartment downtown.

It smells like sticky syrup and food when you enter through the backdoor. You don’t know how else to describe the smell to anyone who has never worked in food and beverage. There is a specific scent that carries throughout the concrete floors always wet somewhere from a sink or sanitary machine leaking, and there are endless amounts of spilled syrup and residual whipped cream from someone opening a new canister wrong.

Hoseok glances up as you walk front of house. It smells like coffee grinds and vanilla – a scent you actually enjoy. The small café is decorated in muted neutrals and browns. Tinted windows make it darker inside than it really is as the storm clouds gather outside.

A single patron sits in the corner of the café with headphones tucked in his ears and knees pulled up into the chair, book in front of him capturing his attention entirely. Hoseok tosses you a rag as you walk up.

“Please help me wipe down. We haven’t had a chance since the rush earlier and Jungkook exploded like three cans of whipped cream and broke a syrup bottle.”

You grimace but take the rag anyways, always willing to help. “Where is the kid anyway? You let him go early?”

“After the morning he had? Yeah. He was going to go work on some paintings anyway. He has someone interested in showing his work.”

You nod and give a noncommittal hum. Jungkook is the only other coworker beside Hoseok that you love dearly. He’s at your apartment most days, sleeping on your couch instead of the very flat mattress that lays on the floor of the kitchen of a studio apartment he shares with three other guys.

Young, dumb and broke, you used to joke when you first met him during orientation at the coffee shop. He is desperately trying to finish art school which he is on a scholarship for, but it only covers the books and the classes. He is totally on his own with rent and other living necessities and he is no better off than you or Yoongi.

Every movement has a steady rhythm. You let yourself get carried away in the mindless task, making a face when you realize just how sticky the back of the bakery case is. You work in silence, letting the carefully curated playlist that Brian insists stay on pull you into a focus. You’re tired, but you’re content.

A sheet of rain begins pelting the window. You stand up from where you had been crouching, pausing a moment to watch it come down in opaque sheets. The windows blur with the rain, drawing the attention of the patron in the corner and Hoseok for just as second as lightning flashes, purple and white against the windows.

Thunder hums as someone rips open the front door to the café, a gust of wind and mist chasing him as he closes the door, panting and cursing. He turns to look at the storm behind him before looking to see where he has entered to escape the torrential onslaught.

You blink in surprise.

A very wet, yet still divine Kim Taehyung stands in the entry way. He’s looking around, golden hair a few shades dark and heavy with rainwater. He’s dressed in all black again, except this time he sports no jacket. A black button up tucked into black pants with a black vest over the top. There’s a glittering gold pocket watch pinned to the vest, making you tilt your head. How… fashionable.

“I can’t promise coffee will dry you off,” you call to him, surprising yourself by speaking. He looks at you and you see surprise followed by a smile flash across his face. You feel blush creeping up your neck immediately as he approached, shaking the water off his hands. “But it might warm you a bit.”

“What a delightful surprise.”

“Is it?”

“A surprise? Of course it is.”

Taehyung wet is more stunning than he is dry. He stands on the other side of the counter from you, crossing his arms with now wet sleeves that stick to him like a second skin. Running a single hand through his hair, he gives you a wide smile, but you’re too hypnotized by the simple act of brushing his hair back to hear what he says.

“What?”

He smirks. “I said it’s nice to see you again.”

You are acutely aware that Hoseok is watching the two of you from the corner of his eye. He has been wiping the same steamer nozzle for the last two minutes, his motions lazy and unconcerned.

“You too. Though I’m sorry you’re all wet.”

“You know, if I knew you better, I might think that’s a euphemism for something.”

Your eyes fly wide. “Oh gosh – sorry. It’s not, I didn’t mean-"

His laughter creases his eyes as he holds his hands up, allaying your fears. “I’m just poking fun at you.” He glances at the rain pelting the windows. “I suppose I should have checked the weather.”

You hum. “Don’t you have all that fancy software to do those things for you?”

There’s a twinkle in his eye. “You’ve caught me on an off day.”

“Sorry to hear. Can I get you anything?”

Taehyung seems to think about it. “What’s your favorite coffee?”

“I don’t think we’re going to have the same taste.”

He leans on the counter with his elbows, bent over slightly as he holds his chin in his hand. He looks up at you through long, dark lashes and you feel your breath quicken. “Why’s that?”

“I like my coffee terribly sweet.”

His eyes darken and he drags them up and down your figure. You hold your breath. “I like all kinds of things that are sweet.”

“Is that like, built in?”

“What?”

“The switch you flip when you start to flirt. Is that built in or did you learn that?”

He folds his mouth to stop his laughter. “I don’t know what to say.”

“You could order a coffee? I’ll even throw it in for free.”

“Really? So the flirting worked.”

“I’ll give you free coffee if you can guess what I spy: it is tall and shameless.”

His laugh is rich and deep. You smile, chewing the corner of your lip as you watch the way humor makes him light up. “Alright, no free coffee for flirting, then. I will take a vanilla latte, though.”

Taehyung does pay. You don’t actually try to give him free coffee. Kim Taehyung could buy the city if he wanted. But you do try and protest when he shoves a fifty-dollar bill in the tip jar, swatting at his hand. You lose the battle.

You set about making his order, trying to stop the smile on your face. Hoseok is on you in a second as Taehyung trails to the wall of vinyl records hanging on the west side of the shop. He elbows you and you glare at him, trying to give him eyes that say shut the fuck up he’s right there.

Hoseok is persistent.

“What the fuck?” he whisper yells at you. “That’s Kim Taehyung. How do you know Kim Taehyung? You share a one bedroom apartment downtown that you converted with an airwall and he….”

“Owns the biggest tech company in the world with his family? Yeah, got it.”

“How the fuck did you meet him?”

“He brought his dog into the vet a week ago.”

“Did you hear about-"

“Yes,” you hiss and Hoseok has the decency to blush and mouth sorry as you finish making Taehyung’s coffee. “Stop making it weird.

It makes sense why Hoseok is freaking out.

Though you and Yoongi don’t own cable, you do have the internet. And you can read magazines at the corner store while you’re waiting for the unbearably slow cashier moves to scan your late night snack.

Kim Taehyung is mostly known as a tech mogul and for his leadership of his and his father’s company, Kim Tech. You've seen him all over social media at events, galas, movie premiers, and charity showings. Taehyung is always alone, making him the city’s – no the world’s – most eligible bachelor. He keeps a relatively private life outside of his social responsibility, keeping off social media and managing to keep himself out of the press on a normal day.

Until three months ago.

You remember your brows shooting up into your hairline when you read the headlines.

Kim Taehyung Slammed for Paying for Sex

Daddy? Kim Taehyung is Not Sorry as he Pays Sugar Babies

Life is Sweet – and Full of Sugar For Kim Taehyung

You can’t imagine why someone who looks the way Taehyung does has to pay someone for sex. Yoongi had wondered aloud one day on the couch about it, laughing at the fact that in a world where people like Kim Taehyung existed, maybe Yoongi was better at sex than a billionaire and that’s why Taehyung paid men and women.

And there were men and women.

Watching the horrible, disgusting things being posted and said about his sexual preferences turned your stomach. It was like the media were hyenas in wait, lurking for any scrap of meat they could tear from Taehyung’s bones.

At one point, it seemed like people were angrier that Taehyung was bisexual than the fact that he was involved in elicit and morally-questionable sexual activities. You went home after train rides of hearing people talking about it, letting their hate rot in your stomach until you felt sick.

Why did people care so much?

There was no answer.

So you tried not to get too deep into the articles, interviews and social media rantings that the woman in question was participating in. Taehyung's ex-sugar baby was going on any tell-all she could get herself invited to, sharing her truth: Kim Taehyung pays for sex and relationships.

The thought strikes you like an adder as you reach out to hand him his coffee. Suddenly you can’t meet his eyes and your hand trembles when he accepts the cup with steady hands and a warm smile. Warmth is the last thing you expect from someone known for being a hard ass in his company and paying thousands of dollars for the company of others.

“Smells amazing.”

It shocks you when he speaks. You had been going down the rabbit hole of thoughts when he gives you another grin before turning over his shoulder and looking out the window. The rain has fallen to a very light mist, manageable without an umbrella.

“I guess I should go to my meeting.”

“That seems pertinent.”

His mouth twitches at the corner. “I hope you have a good day, Y/N.”

-

Taehyung does not have a good day. Being drenched in the rain starts him off on the wrong foot, though he hopes seeing you meant that it was turning around. You had been a pleasant surprise, both at the veterinary office when you provided him with a brief moment of respite, and again with the subtle humor you offered at the coffee shop.

Fate is not something Taehyung believes in. Hard work, dedication, sacrifices and putting aside desires is what got him and his father to where they were. It was what makes Taehyung’s world turn round. There is no pre-determined destiny marching him down his path.

But as he leaves the coffee shop, a little bit drier and definitely much warmer, Taehyung things that it is a funny little coincidence to have seen you twice in a week. Especially that you remember him, though he has to remind himself that he is not a fraction as invisible as he wishes he was.

The rest of the walk to the crumbling parking garage he intends to buy and condemn to build a new facility strictly dedicated to MAIA isn’t unpleasant. The air is a little humid and the sun doesn’t come out, but it doesn’t douse him with rain again. He made the mistake of wanting to take public transportation to the meeting sight as a way to show that he was, in fact, a human being in touch with reality.

In the heart of downtown, the new site is surrounded by neighborhoods in need. He would need an entirely new staff, and Taehyung has spent months building a proposal and financial reports: how he's going to make it work, what he wants the company culture to look like, what kind of financials they need to produce to pay livable wages, what their hiring standards need to be like.

Unlike his father, Taehyung had come back from university liberal. It drove his father and most of the members of the board to no end that Taehyung wasn’t a blood-sucking vampire who wanted to bleed the masses to fill his pockets.

Taehyung’s pockets have been full his entire fucking life. He doesn’t need more.

If there is a single thing that he likes about himself, it’s his need to try and make the world a little less unsufferable. He won’t admit that to anyone, but his actions speak for him.

Which is why he had taken public fucking transportation this afternoon to meet with the man who owns the garage. Taehyung is in a bit of a bidding war with a property management company that wants to replace the out-of-use garage with a new, loft-style apartment complex.

Taehyung already has his argument and a ton of financial reports ready for his meeting: the apartment complex is going to be priced out of range for any of the local residents looking for a place to rent. It’s another building that will cost millions to build, and then sit empty because no one can afford to live in it. It will bring in no jobs, no incremental revenue, and ultimately be a waste of space.

The problem? The owner of the parking garage is certainly not fond of Taehyung, and already seems to have an idea of what Kim Taehyung stands for.

Can he blame him? No. The entire fucking city now knows that for the last two years, he has been fucking paying for relationships. The ethical conversations are through the roof and there are now thousands of people calling him a sick fuck, preying on people who they think are beneath him.

In fact, he had read an incredibly insightful article about just how awful he is, abusing his power and money to exploit the poor.

Except every single person Taehyung has ever had a contract with is very much not in need of money and are some of the most recommended escorts in the city – perhaps the fucking country.

The smell of wet pavement chases him into the shadows of the parking garage, where Malcolm is standing and scrolling through his phone. He’s dressed modestly in jeans, a shirt and a blazer thrown over it, his orange-hued beard trimmed neatly and eyes unfocused behind owl-like glasses.

“Malcolm,” Taehyung greets politely. He keeps the warmth out of his voice. Being friendly or overly welcoming is not going to win him the purchase of the building. Straight finances and economics is going to. “It’s good to see you.”

Malcom looks up at him and frowns. “I’m sorry – I thought we cancelled this meeting?”

Taehyung pauses. “No, it was still on my calendar. My apologies – if we cancelled then why are you here?”

“Mr. Kim, there seems to be a misunderstanding. I called your office two days ago to cancel. I’ve decided to pass on your acquisition of the building and sell to GreyStar.”

Taehyung feels a vein tick in his jaw. “I see. I’ll have to connect with my admin on that. I was under the impression you were excited to discuss a possible sale to Kim Tech. May I ask why you changed your mind.”

Malcolm stares at him, brown eyes squinting. “It’s just ethics.”

“Ethics?”

“You hire prostitutes, Mr. Kim. I have no desire to be affiliated with that.”

-

“Fuck,” Jimin says. “He said that?”

“Yeah he fucking said that,” Taehyung snaps. They’re at Taehyung’s private bar in the backyard of his villa. Behind them, the sun sets over the world, rolling green hills looking as though they’re on fire. Jimin swears again and sips the martini carefully. “There was no fucking message for me about cancelling the meeting.”

Jimin winces. “It’s… Carina. She hasn’t been going through all the voicemails.”

“Hyeon’s niece that he hired out of nepotism?”

“That’s the one.”

“Fire her.” Jimin groans, throwing his head back up, dark hair falling. “I’m serious, Jimin. I let it slide because Hyeon does good work but that is exactly the fucking opposite of what my human resources department is supposed to be doing. She’s been working here for five months and can’t listen to a fucking voicemail.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll work on it.”

They both know by now that when Jimin say’s that he’ll work on it, he will absolutely do it.

Jimin is an unlikely friend to Taehyung. He had been a model when they met – struggling to pay bills despite being one of the most rapidly growing faces on high-end magazines and social media. Worse – Jimin hated modeling. Hated the way people thought that he was vapid and conceited, hated the way he felt as though he was selling his body, soul and his mind for the job.

Taehyung thinks Jimin is so fucking smart. They had met at a charity gala for some large organization that Kim Tech made annual donations to. They’d been sat at the same table, and Taehyung couldn’t help but marvel at the way Jimin let the other men and women at the table think that he was utterly helpless and offer him all sorts of things: my sister’s friend’s cousin works at Vogue, I’ll give her a call; my wife’s cousin-once-removed has an apartment in Paris, you must stay their next month on your trip.

People doled out offers and favors to him after a subtle word, a blush on his cheeks, or simple wide eyes.

You’re a fucking hustler, Taehyung had laughed when he sidled up next to Jimin at the bar. Come work for me. You’re fucking smarter than everyone else at that table, and I need an admin who can shark everyone like that.

At first, Jimin had resisted. He thought that perhaps Taehyung was another pretty-faced boy with a rich daddy who was trying to get in his pants. Only two of three of those things were true, and to this day, Taehyung had never in his life made a sexual advance on Jimin.

Now, they're best friends. Jimin is Taehyung’s personal assistant, but he's so much more than that. He's a lifeline, someone who keeps Taehyung’s life in order, someone who can be brutally honest with him without Taehyung getting upset, someone who can help Taehyung navigate the insane lows and the moderate highs of his current lifestyle.

And Jimin ia impossibly good at his job, even if he's no longer the one answering the front desk line or checking voicemails when the likes of Malcolm called the company line instead of Taehyung directly. (A move that Taehyung thinks is deliberate).

“I should meet with an image consultant like my father says,” Taehyung sighs. He knocks back the rest of the whiskey. It goes down smooth, the burn pleasant. It’s his first of the night, but after losing the new space for expanding MAIA, he needs another. “Fix my fucked-up media presence. It’s obviously effecting my job more than I thought. Maybe I should step down.”

“Please spare me the dramatics.” Jimin glances at Taehyung from the corner of his eye. The older man is dressed in a light, white shirt that is open at the collar and tucked into jeans. Though he no longer models, it doesn’t make his style or beauty any less effortless. “You should ask Jin if there’s a division that’s dedicated to making you look better.”

“I love Jin but I will never use Eden again.”

“You know, since everyone thinks you’re this terrible, sex maniac who preys on the weak-“

“Get to the point fast.”

“And they think you’re like this cold, hateful vampire who is just rich and unkind.”

“The point, Jimin. The point.”

“Just maybe you should perhaps find a nice person and date them.”

Taehyung looks at him, brow arched. “Excuse me?”

“I am serious. You’re someone who has never had a partner seriously. If you actually found someone nice and-“

“I don’t date.”

Jimin pushes on, undaunted. “If you managed to be in a relationship that was healthy, and with a nice person, people might think differently. People love that shit. Someone who has saved the bad boy – who has turned around the heartless CEO.”

“You’ve come up with these insults rather quickly.”

Jimin sips his martini and makes a face. “I’m online all the time, these aren’t things I think.”

“Whatever. I don’t date.”

“Ever think that might be the problem, Tae?”

Of course Taehyung has never thought that his lack of dating was the problem, but the words chase him for a week straight. Taehyung thinks about it as he showers every night, and as he laying in bed with a diffuser pumping as much lavender in the air as it can.

Dating isn’t for him. He doesn’t have time for it. It’s an inconvenience. It’s not that he doesn’t want that connection with someone. He’s not hiding. He just doesn’t know how to give enough of himself over to someone without them becoming attached and offended that he works more than he has time for anything else.

It wouldn’t be fair. Right?

Jimin’s words plague him so much that without really making a decision, Taehyung drives downtown. The choice to leave the house on a work-from-home day is on a complete whim. It comes after a call where he had to tell his board of directors he still had not found a home for MAIA, but he's working on it.

Dressed in jeans and a loose, patterned button-up, Taehyung walks into Sugar’d before he even realizes where he is. He doesn’t know your schedule, and he realizes that perhaps he should have called the vet’s office to see if you were there.

Luck has it, you’re behind the counter talking to a coworker of yours. Afternoon sun shines through the window, hitting you just right that for a moment, you seem suspended in time. Your hair shines, pulled up and you smile at something your coworker says to you. Your laugh is warm and relaxed, not forced or practiced.

Jimin’s words nip at Taehyung’s heels as he approaches the counter, eyes darting back and forth between you and the man next to you. Neither have really noticed Taehyung yet, and he can’t help but get suddenly shy and worry that perhaps you have a romantic relationship with the tall, dark-haired and tattooed guy.

You turn to greet him, eyes crinkling at the corner with your smile before you blink in surprise. Your eyes get round and your mouth forms the perfect ‘o’ as you look at him.

“Hi,” you greet, giving him a toothy smile. “What a surprise.”

“What can I say, I really liked the vanilla coffee.”

“Huh. I’ll tell Hoseok. He’s the one who taught me to make them.” Taehyung’s eyes trail to the guy standing behind you watching with narrowed eyes. “That’s Jungkook. He has taught me absolutely nothing.”

“Untrue. I taught you how to use acrylic paint.”

“He taught me how to use acrylic paint poorly.”

Taehyung’s brows are raised as he watches the way you throw a glance over your shoulder at Jungkook. The man seems to get whatever face you’re making and rolls his eyes, backing away. He gives Taehyung a lingering stare. Territorial, almost.

“Same order?”

“Yeah, thank you.”

“You know, it’s free if you can-"

“Spy the shameless asshole?”

You smirk. “Today it’s an object. Something…” You look around and he has a moment to notice the way you're slightly flushed. You look a little tired, but there’s an eagerness he likes. Cute. “Brown.”

Taehyung glances around. “There is quite a lot of brown.”

“You’re a big tech CEO, you’ll figure it out.”

Taehyung stares for a moment. You cock a brow at him. What comes out of his mouth next surprises him as much as it seems to surprise you. “Go out with me.”

“What?”

“You know, like on a date. Two people enjoying an activity in which they get to know one another, usually with romantic intention.”

“Thanks, Webster, I know what a date is.”

You narrow your eyes at him before looking down at the register to tap in his order. Your silence makes his heart thunder, and Taehyung decides that he is going to absolutely throttle Jimin when he does home. His abrupt question is driven by the long-lasting damage of his previous activities, and Jimin is right – someone nice wouldn’t be terrible for him.

“Guess what I spy correctly and perhaps I’ll think about it.”

“Winning doesn’t get me a yes?”

“Not everything worth having is so easily given, Kim Taehyung.”

He feels chastened. Your voice isn’t impolite, but it’s careful. You glance up at him, eyes soft. Glowing. Expectant.

Once more, Taehyung looks around and his eyes settle on a record. He points at it and says, “That album.”

You grin at him and for a blissful moment, Taehyung thinks he’s won. His triumph plummets as you answer, “Nope,” popping the ‘p’ particularly hard. “There’s always next time.”

-

“He’s here again,” Jungkook mutters as he walks through the back. You’re sitting on a half-caved in box chewing on a sandwich when you look up from your phone. Jungkook crosses his arms over his broad chest, as he adds, “Kim. The big CEO.”

Swallowing your sandwich becomes difficult as your throat goes dry. It’s the dozenth time that Kim Taehyung has come to the coffee shop in a matter of a few weeks, and he has entertained your little ‘I spy’ game every time.

Every time he shows up you’re still surprised. Sometimes he’s in business suits and is particularly in a hurry, rushing through his guesses. Other times, he’s dressed a touch more casual, but still just as elegant as always.

You give him the same color every time. He’s named the most obvious things in the café at this point: the drink sleeves, the tables, the cookies in the case, the caramel syrup. He still hasn’t managed to guess what you spy that is brown, and you’ve purposefully done it.

Because while he is warm with you and according to your coworkers, has come on multiple days that you’re not there, something about him seems like a giant red flag. You’ve looked into him more now that he has turned into a regular customer.

What there is to find isn’t the best. The recent news is a total mess with rumors, additional allegations and of course, the big scandal.

But it’s what's before that looks just as unpromising: pictures where he does not smile much, interviews where he is abrupt and to the point. He looks so different from the version of him that you get at the cash register that it throws you that he can be two such different people.

Wiping your hands on your apron, you sigh. “I can always kick him out,” Jungkook offers. “He brings really good tips though.”

“Wow, your loyalty can be bought?”

“I have bills.”

It’s a joke, but it hits a little too close to home.

You pat Jungkook’s arm as you walk out, looking Taehyung up and down as he waits with his hands tucked into the pocket of a pair of ripped jeans. Today he’s in a plain white t-shirt, though you’re sure it’s designer, and his hair is soft and hanging in his eyes.

Beautiful.

His smile is infectious when he sees you. you can’t help it as the corner of your mouth curls upward, typing in his order. He gets the same thing every time, a vanilla latte with no alterations. You already see the ridiculously large bill in the tip jar, making you roll your eyes.

“I spy, with my little-"

“My eyes.”

You look up at Taehyung sharply, your mouth open. “You know, I kept going home and really thinking about it. Tried to think what in the hell you would pick that was so difficult. Because you see, you didn’t want me to guess it. You wanted to present me with a challenge, an answer that was impossible for me to guess. It could have been something you were changing every time we play, but you don’t seem like the type to play dirty. I bet you admire being fair.”

“You think so?”

He leans on the counter, a wolfish grin on his face. “I do think so. So it got me thinking: if she wants an impossible game that is still fair, it needs to be something that I’m not seeing. And that’s when I realized it: you spy something brown. My eyes.”

Taehyung is smug as you look him up and down. You cross your arms. You really didn’t expect him to get it, but Taehyung is absolutely right. The answer had been his eyes: brown, but not dark brown all the time. Sometimes they were light brown, like dark honey turned to liquid. Other times his eyes were dark like the roasted grinds behind you, fathomless and endless.

Right now, they were glittering brown, almost gold with giddiness that he has cracked the code. You really hadn’t expected him to get it, but you remember that he’s a leading mind in his tech company. Though there is a single screen in the back office dedicated to a security system run by KAIA and you have the software on your phone (who doesn’t) you’re mostly unfamiliar with his work.

“So did I get it?”

You tap a finger on your arm. “You did.”

It’s hard not to be enamored by his grin. He wears his victory subtly, though there is a new tilt to his chin and a strength in his shoulders as he straightens them and says, “So you’ll consider going out with me, then?”

“I don’t know.” He offers you his credit card and you shake your head. “You won.”

“It was never about the free coffee.” He lowers his voice and you feel your heart flutter. “Trust me, there were much higher stakes.”

Hesitantly, you take his card and run it. When you hand it back, Taehyung’s long fingers brush yours lightly. It’s like a spark jumps between the two of you, your eyes flickering up to meet his. He’s frozen for a single moment before he’s looking down, tucking the card in his wallet.

“What kind of date did you have in mind?”

“Simple dinner.”

“Simple?”

“Simple,” he promises. “Just one night. Please.”

Taking a long, deep breath, you let it out. You know it’s a bad idea. You know it is, but you want to do it. You feel it in your gut that something is going to go wrong. You’ve always believed in fate, though, and it feels like someone is putting Taehyung in front of you over and over again. Is making him determined.

You take that leap of faith and nod once. “When?”

-

“I’m going to vomit.”

Yoongi looks alarmed when you say it, sitting up on your bed as though you’re going to puke right onto him. Instead, you’re pacing in front of your closet, which is shoved so tight with clothes and items that it looks like a bulging pinata.

The best thing about your room is that it does not look as desolate as it could. While Yoongi’s room is an absolute nightmare – mattress on the floor, hand-me-down furniture bought at consignment stores and an airwall that took you both a week to install in the living room correctly – yours looks thoughtfully designed in muted pinks, tans and greens.

“Do I need to?” Yoongi vaguely gestures to the bed and you shake your head. He visibly relaxes into your mattress, which is better of the two in the apartment. “What’s the big deal now? You already said yes to the date.”

“He told me simple – Yoongi we’re going to Límon.”

“Holy fuck. That’s simple to him?”

You let out a loud shriek.

Límon is not only a five-star restaurant – it’s the top of the fine dining list in the city with a waiting list of months and months at a time, and a has been given five Michelin stars. It’s a Hispanic fusion restaurant that sits at the top of The Mandarin Hotel in the business district, and it is wildly expensive.

You begin to sweat. You should have known that simple to Kim Taehyung was a ridiculously fancy dinner. You have no idea what in your closet would even be passable for dinner – are you supposed to dress formal? Is there a dress code? There has to be a dress code.

Yoongi remains cool as a cucumber after his initial surprise. Peeling himself from your bed while you sit and bend over with your head between your legs, he goes through your options meticulously. You’re too busy hyperventilating to see the options he’s pulling.

Had you known that he was going to take you somewhere exclusive to a tax section you would never see, you would have said no. You debate texting him and telling him that you can’t go. That you’re going to pull an extra shift somewhere and that you’re unavailable for the night.

You type out the excuse. Delete it. Type another one and then delete that.

Because even though you are absolutely panicking, there is intrigue there. The worst thing that can happen is that Taehyung is horrible just like the media thinks he is, or he finds you completely boring and unsatisfactory.

You have a significant amount of money at the moment in case of emergency and being stiffed with part of the bill, direct results from his insane tipping at the coffee shop. But he doesn’t seem like the type for that.

So you put on the black slip dress that Yoongi suggests. Something you’ve worn once but definitely got taken home in. The strap is a little frayed so you wear your hair down to hide it. Your heels are a little scuffed but with some buffing via generic brand paper towel, they look less scratched and more shine.

Nerves eat away at you when you text Taehyung your address. Though you gave him your number at the coffee shop, his texting was incredibly minimal and to the point. So clinical that it almost felt like you were making a doctor’s appointment until he answered your address send.

Kim Taehyung: Oo she lives downtown. Is she artsy?

Me: No, she took what she could afford 🤪

Kim Taehyung: You’re cute

Me: I’m not as cute when I’m hungry…

Kim Taehyung: Five minutes, angel

The finished product isn’t bad by any means when you look in the mirror. Yoongi is on his way out and escorts you downstairs through the winding stairwell that smells like cigarettes and the cat piss because Ms. Norris keeps dumping her liter outside.

Taehyung is just outside your building, leaning against a sleek black car. It’s cliché, really. The black sports car, the black three-piece suit with the gold timepiece pinned again. He’s looking down on his phone as you walk on unsteady feat.

Seeing him hits you with a sudden sense of imposter syndrome. You shouldn’t be going out on a date with Kim Taehyung. The man who clearly doesn’t know how to date, and who has taken an interest in you because… well you don’t know why. Which is part of the problem.

You hesitate, but Yoongi nudges you before walking toward his beat up Honda. “Call me, yeah?”

It’s code for call me if you need me at any time, at any second.

“Yeah,” you agree waving him off.

Taehyung’s eyes are on Yoongi for a moment. He watches your roommate with an unreadable expression before his eyes drift over to you. He slides a hand in his pocket, letting his dark eyes look you up and down. And then up and down again. You almost shiver under his gaze – he hasn’t looked at you like that before.

“You look beautiful.” Taehyung pushes off the car, opening the door and offering you a hand. Shyly, you walk forward and take it, letting him help you sit in the cool, leather interior of the car. “You look like absolute heaven.”

“You look pretty good yourself.”

“I always look good.” Taehyung grins before he gently closes the door to the car.

You have no idea what kind of car or model it is, but the screen hums with the KAIA system and it smells cleaner than any other car you’ve been in before. Taehyung slides into the drivers seat, offering you a lopsided grin as he puts it in gear and drives.

Nerves fade away as you chat on the drive there. Taehyung looks effortlessly handsome, one hand on the wheel and the other on the gear shift. He doesn’t move to hold your hand or touch your thigh, and you’re grateful because you’re sweating absolute bullets from your anxiety and because it took effort to get dressed.

Taehyung is an easy person to talk to. You almost forget where you’re going as he tells you about his search to find a new building for his company’s MAIA project. He doesn’t think it’s a stupid question when you ask what that is.

His way of speak entrances you. His voice is dulcet and smooth, a rich baritone that you could listen to all night. Taehyung is confident when he speaks, and confident when he pulls up to the hotel and has valet take the car. He’s quick to open your door and help you out, delicately taking your hand in his.

This time, Taehyung doesn’t let go of your hand. You look up at him, eyes slightly rounded as he hands his keys to the valet who seem to be somewhat familiar with him. He looks down when he notices you’re staring at his side profile: sharp and shadowed and so beautiful that you think Jungkook would want to paint it.

“You okay?” he asks, brows furrowed. He squeezes your hand, which is warm. Your hand feels tiny in his, but you nod. He flashes a smile. “Great. Did you look at the menu beforehand?”

You almost expect him to drop your hand but he doesn’t.

Instead, Taehyung strides confidently into the hotel lobby and toward the elevator, warm fingers laced with yours. You nod and say, “It was a little overwhelming, to be honest with you.”

“Are there any hard no’s?” You snap your head toward him as he pushes the button to the elevator. He sees your expression and laughs. “With the menu. Although I’d like to know what exactly you thought I was talking about.”

“Ha ha.”

“Hey,” he jests as the elevator opens. “Your mind, not mine.”

Upstairs is a whole new world. You feel nervous in the intimate lighting. The rooftop is split between inside and outside. Taehyung leads you to the back half of the inside part, nodding at the hostess as he goes by.

You are not unaware that eyes are on you. Taehyung transforms as you pass by tables of curious eyes and people turning to look at him from the bar. He’s taller, suddenly and his face is inscrutable. The change is so sudden that you knock into someone’s chair, gasping and apologizing vehemently.

His hand is on your hip, steadying you and looked down at you with a softer expression than a moment before. His micro expressions make you dizzy as you assure him that you’re alright. He nods and his concern melts back into a cool exterior as he leads you to a very private room at the back, the two of you the only people inside.

Taehyung lets go of your hand and lets you walk over to the floor to glass ceiling windows. The entire world unrolls, a kingdom beneath his feet. Your breath fogs the glass for a moment before you find your seat across from him.

The table is directly next to you, city lights drawing your attention again as Taehyung orders a bottle of wine for you after asking your preference for white or red. You’ve barely looked at the menu, and when you draw your eyes away from the city to look at Taehyung, you freeze.

The menu hasn’t been touched, and he’s staring intensely at you. You suddenly feel small, squirming in your seat. Perhaps your hair doesn’t look right or he’s realized that bringing you here was a mistake. You adjust the hem of your dress and shift in the seat again, wondering if-

“Don’t do that.” You look back up at him. His gaze is burning – more intense than you have ever seen it before at the coffee shop. “You look divine. Don’t get nervous.”

“Well you’re looking at me like…”

He leans back in the seat. There is a cool confidence that is new to you. He’s always been confident, but this is different. Like he has shifted and is more comfortable being… sexy, perhaps is the word for it.

“Look at you like what?”

“So intensely.”

“I apologize. But you really do look like a work of art.”

Your neck flushes and you bite your bottom lip. To diver the attention you mention, “You know, when you said a simple date, this is not what I had in mind.”

“Dinner is as simple as it gets.” You snort. “What? Is it not?”

“I was thinking dinner at like – Outback Steakhouse.”

“I’ve… never been there.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Of course you haven’t. We are from very different backgrounds.”

“Doesn’t mean much. I still think we share things in common.”

You throw him an amused look. “Like what?”

“Like… do you like cheese?”

“Yes I like cheese.”

“See!” he leans forward eagerly. “Match made in heaven.”

“Everyone likes cheese!”

“Untrue. You’d be surprised at how many people I know that don’t eat dairy products.”

Tension evaporates. Taehyung has a way of taking the pressure off, and though as you get to know him, there are still complete differences in your lives and where you’re at. It doesn’t bother you as much as you expect it to – you have no idea where this is going to go, or what he wants out of the date.

Feeling overwhelmed by the menu, you let Taehyung order for the two of you. He does so confidently and easily that you rub your thighs together at the cool aura he emits. Sleeping with him had not even occurred to you, but suddenly as he argues that Inception is not a terrible movie, you can’t stop thinking about it.

Dirty thoughts of Taehyung plague you the rest of the dinner, making you a blushing mess, especially when a little bit of wine slips down your chin and he leans forward to brush it with his thumb, bringing it up to his sultry mouth and swiping his tongue over the pad of his finger.

He looks at you dead in the eyes and murmurs, “Sweet.”

By the time you’re finished eating the best fucking meal of your life, the wine has you feeling warm. You lean back in your seat, needling Taehyung about his personal philosophies.

“I just don’t believe in fate!” He laughs, shaking his head. His gold hair is styled back again, single lock falling devilishly over his forehead. “There’s no way there is just a divine future for everything. Hard word is what gets us where we are.”

“You’re so nihilistic. What about for the things that aren’t as simple as hard work and a little bit of luck? Coincidences?”

“I think you put too much weight in coincidences.”

“And I think you could do with a little more magic in the world, Kim Taehyung. You have such a dry view of everything. Why?”

He shrugs a shoulder. It’s the first time that he doesn’t have a flirty answer. He grows quiet for a moment, spinning the red wine in his glass. You sip yours, waiting patiently as he finds the words.

“I don’t have time for the dreamy shit,” he says eventually. “My life is business and work and then extending that business and work, and bettering and furthering myself.”

“That sounds… boring.”

“Not really. I like being successful. I like creating. But it doesn’t leave room for the fantasies of romance and fate and love at first sight.”

“Why ask me out, then?”

“What do you mean?”

You set the glass of wine down. Your heart thuds loudly, amped by the alcohol and the warmth that is buzzing in your veins. You have a little confidence, putting meaning behind your voice when you ask, “Why ask me out if you don’t have time for romance?”

“Ah,” he laughs. “That.”

You frown. “Yeah? That.”

Taehyung lips his lips and resettles himself in his seat. He leans his elbows on the table, hands clasped and chin resting on top of them. The candle on the table reflects in his dark eyes, flickering and beautiful.

“I asked you out,” he says slowly. “Because you are wildly different than anyone I’ve been with before.”

“Like… poor?”

He guffaws. “No! That hasn’t crossed my mind for a second that we have different economics. Please don’t – fuck, don’t ever think that’s why I did. I meant that you’re incredibly kind, and firm in a soft way, and I don’t know. You seem genuine.”

“You’re not used to genuine?”

“In my line of work? No.”

You hum and chew on the inside of your cheek. The question hasn’t really been answered, though. So you push again. “Still, though. I’m different – but you don’t have time for romance? Or this is to make a friendship I just…” You lift a shoulder. “What do you want out of this, I guess is what I’m asking.”

“You value honesty, right?” You nod your head and he heaves a sigh. “I’m not stupid, I know you’ve probably heard about some things I’ve done. Both true and untrue, it doesn’t really matter. I meant what I said when I don’t have time for the romance. This, right now? It’s the first date I’ve been on in years. Me chasing you at the café for weeks? That’s the most effort I have put forth in a long time.”

“Thank you, I think?”

He smiles. “I like you. I think you’re smart, and I think that you’re honest and a different change of pace. You don’t have any arrests, which is nice. And you volunteer at an animal shelter in your free time, while working two jobs.”

A stone drops in your stomach. “You had a background check on me?”

“With what happened to me recently? Yeah. I did.” You award him that small lenience and nod, but there is something sour twisting in your stomach now. “Speaking of that, my reputation right now is a mess. You saw the way people couldn’t take their eyes off me when we walked in. Everyone is talking about me. I’m losing work deals because of it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. My decision to pay people for their time was based off of a need and an assessment of what I could and couldn’t spend time doing. I needed discretion, I needed trust, I needed people who wouldn’t go through my things or reveal things about my private life.”

“I have to admit that… makes sense.”

“It’s hard to find people who are willing to give up the ideals of romance. I won’t ever be able to attend a birthday, or go to a wedding as a date, or just take you out to the movies.” Taehyung slows his speech as he looks at you with a level gaze. “I cannot go to friends gallery openings or be there for you if something bad happens. I travel, I work, I barely sleep. But what I can promise you is financial stability, someone to blow off steam with, and someone who will be loyal to you.”

The stone in your stomach syncs further. You hear a high-pitched ringing in your ears as you lean back in your seat, staring at Taehyung. “I’m confused- are you propositioning me?”

“Sort of, but not similar to the ones before. I don’t need sex – unless that is something you’re interested in because I would fuck you stupid over this table right now if that’s what you wanted – but I need someone softer. Someone no one knows. I need someone I can trust to come with me to events, who can help me fix my image.”

“And you think that person is me.”

“I think you can help me out, and I would be willing to financially compensate for that.”

“For sex?”

“For whatever you’d be welcome to. But I would in no circumstances be a boyfriend – not really. I don’t have the capacity or the time.”

Silence stretches between the two of you. Taehyung’s words sync in.

Financial compensation.

Taehyung said it wasn’t about being from different economical backgrounds, but what he’s not saying is that it would be mutually beneficial because you’re working two jobs and he’s working one. Because you live downtown in a shitty building and he lives somewhere nice, and owned. Because even though you look nice – you do not look like the women sitting outside of the private room.

Taehyung said it wasn’t about being from different economical backgrounds, and yet he’s offering to pay you as a favor if you do him one.

You don’t know how it happens. You don’t remember making the decision. For a moment, it’s just you and Taehyung staring at one another over empty dessert plates and glasses of wine.

The next moment, he is dripping in red wine, and the empty glass is in your hand.

-

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#kim taehyung #taehyung smut #kim taehyung smut #reader x taehyung #bts v #v smut #tae x reader #taehyung fanfic #kth fanfic #kth smut #kth x reader #bts smut #bts fanfic #minors dni #minors do not interact #haliiimede writes #bangtan boys #fic: pinch of sugar #haliimedes readers choice

[jungkookschin]

older: sneak peek one

think i need someone older, just a little bit colder, take the weight off your shoulders

READ IT HERE

synopsis: you are obsessed with jungkook, your parents' friends' son, and he adores you. but does jungkook adore you because you've been acquainted since childhood? or because he sees you as a woman? he remembers you obnoxiously doing cartwheels in his room as a kid, but he doesn't remember you becoming so alluring.

word count: 300 (?), actual fic is 17k

pairing: older!jk x afab reader

genre: age gap au (seven years), childhood acquaintance au, fluff, comedy, angsty, outta pocket, alludes to sexual innuendoes

author's note: this is a scene from like the middle of the fic!! if u want to be tagged in the actual fic, lmk! also yn is a snorlax girl and i love that for her

Your arms linked with Yunjin, you skip around from one club to the next, dancing and partying your little hearts out. When the night comes to a close you prance to the local ramen shop by campus.

From a distance, you can already make out Jungkook's figure. He’s always so animated when he’s with his friends, dramatically gesturing and hip thrusting in the air while his friends laugh at his immature jokes. He’s got a cigarette between his pointer and middle finger, taking slow puffs, allowing the smoke to fill his lungs before he tilts his head to exhale a long plume of smoke into the atmosphere. 

That’s right. Jungkook smokes occasionally but never lets you do it. What a hypocrite. 

His eyes drift off for a second until they land on you, and his lips curl up in your presence. 

“Well look, if it isn’t my favorite girl,” he teases, letting out low laughter at the way you crimson when all his friends’ heads whip in your direction. 

You narrow your eyes at him, giving him a dirty look that Jungkook coos at. Even when you were trying to intimidate him you were akin to a cute Snorlax, so adorable, eyebrows pinched and lips pouted- how could he feel anything but adoration at that? 

“Aw angel,” he jests, throwing your words right back at you, “Don’t ignore me, ‘m sorry for teasing you,” he catches you as you walk past him, pulling you towards his chest before resting his chin on top of your head. 

He casually smiles at Yunjin. “How’s my angel been doing? Has she been behaving?”

Yunjin’s jaw drops at the bold statement and you attempt to wrestle out of his firm embrace to berate him. 

“Just kidding. It’s getting late, though. Do you girls need a ride home?” he asks, finally letting you go just for you to stumble out of his grip and almost land on your face, but luckily Jungkook pulls your shoulders back without even looking in your direction. 

“Jungkook, it’s literally 10,” you deadpan. 

“Oh c’mon, I don’t want you girls to get kidnapped or something,” he snarkily responds. 

“How about you give us some money instead?” Yunjin jests, clearly joking, but Jungkook takes it so, so seriously. He raises a brow at both of you. “How much do you need?”

“Wait no- I was kidding,” Yunjin quickly clarifies, her ears becoming slightly red, “you don’t have to..”

Jungkook looks from you to her, then back at you before whipping out his phone, taking another puff of his cigarette before blowing the smoke upwards, careful so you don’t inhale any smoke.

Ping!

Your eyebrows pinch in confusion when you get a notification, and you unzip your mini purse to grab your phone, allowing the screenlight to illuminate your pretty features.  

JEON JUNGKOOK HAS TRANSFERRED YOU 500 DOLLARS VIA HYBETRANSFER.

“250 each, alright?” Jungkook laughs, taking another puff of his cigarette before he saunters off, his friends pushing him around and teasing him. 

“Ayo, when did Jeon turn into a sugar daddy?”

You and Yunjin are left dumbfounded, even more so when Jungkook turns around and makes kissy lips at you. 

You fall to your knees.

#jungkook imagines #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenarios #bts jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook series #jungkook x reader #jungkook fic

[planet-marz1]

Some of my favorite fics! 💜

more of my favorite fics here

A Strangers Heart Without A Home by @morning-star-joy

A Safe Haven by @darkroastjoel

Fear Of God by @netherfeildren

Cruel Summer by @proxima-writes

Sun Bleached Flies by @breakfastatjoels

Refuge by @cool-iguana

The Way You Miss Me & Trial & Error by @thetriumphantpanda

Lavender & Yearling by @justagalwhowrites

Linger on , Surrendered Innocence , and Treat you Right by @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin

I Know the End by @mondaychildsworld

A Lover's Pinch & Under the Night by @hier--soir

Reflection of the Moon & Belong to me by @chloeangelic

Aquatic rehabilitation by @psychedelic-ink

Literally everything by @toxicanonymity

Poor Baby and Hard work gets rewarded by @walkintotheriveranddisappear

Unforgivable Mistake by @lionlena

MaintenanceMan! Joel Miller by @gracieispunk

Your summer dream by @swiftispunk

Only angel by @bastardmandennis

Stockings by @atticrissfinch

Does your mother know? by @cupofjoel

Texas Sun by @from-the-clouds

The Waffle House Chronicles by @softlyspector

Wednesday Nights by @wakandas-vibranium

Dirty Lies by @lizi-writes

Soft & Sweet and Sugar & Spice by @cavillscurls

The Farmhouse by @astrid-sorensen

All glory & Sinful Reunion by @dev1lm4n

Who Do You Belong To Mr. Miller? by @tightjeansjavi

Bad Fun by @javiscigarette

Pierced by @thot-of-khonshu

Seams by @fuckyeahdindjarin

Dad's best friend by @jrrmint

Rock Me to Sleep by @randofantfic

Soft spot for trouble by @millerscoffee

A Learning Process & Exit Wounds by @strang3lov3

Rest in the cup of my palms by @tinycozycomfort

Elementary by @guess-my-next-obsession

Willow by @jenispunk

Feelings on fire by @joelscruff

Come Away With Me by @thetriumphantpanda

Deaf Ears, Loud Hearts & Of Reunions and Regrets by @blissfulbarbie

Study break by @rottenblur

Relax, baby by @party-hearses

Psycho bitch by @hellishjoel

Help, im stuck! By @nosesitter

March by @the-widow-miller

Thank you, Mr. Miller by @lovers-liability

Comfort You by @northernbluess

A Cup of Joel by @elvinaa

Of course this isn't all of them, just the ones I could remember at the top of my head I read soooo many fics💜 I'll try and keep this list updated and add more :)

If you have any suggestions send them to my inbox! 💌💗

#mari's fic recs #fic rec

[the-bad-batch-baroness]

Suckers

Fives & Echo

Summary: Hilarity ensues when Fives spots a lollipop in the shape of a clone.

Pairing: None

Characters: Fives, Echo, Rex, Fox

Tags & Warnings: humor, crude humor, sexual humor, sexual innuendos, art comic at the end

Word Count: 337

Author's Note: I blame cursed clone wars merchandise on eBay, late-night Discord chats, and @kimiheartblade for this abomination 😂 It's pretty much just dialogue. I don't even know if I want to call this a fic, considering how thrown together it is. But sometimes you just have to write funny stuff. As always, please enjoy 💚

"Hey, Echo, look at this!" Fives yells. He grabs Echo's arm and pulls him towards the candy storefront.

"What?" Echo huffs, then yanks his arm back.

"It's us!" Fives exclaims.

Echo raises an eyebrow. "Huh?"

"They made us into suckers!" Fives smiles. He points to the clone-shaped lollipops nestled in a stand next to the candy store window.

"And you're excited about that, why?" Echo asks.

"We're famous!" Fives grins.

"Right," Echo rolls his eyes, "because minors and middle-aged single women sucking on us is peak fame."

"Aw, come on, Echo," Fives says. "It's a novelty!"

Echo crosses his arms. "It's disgusting."

"I'm gonna buy one," Fives says, then walks towards the door.

"Wait!" Echo yells, trying to stop him, but he can't.

Fives buys the lollipop and returns to Echo, who is waiting for him outside the shop.

Echo sighs. "Happy now?"

Fives smiles and then shoves the lollipop in Echo's face. "Here, have a lick."

Echo cringes away. "Ew, no way!"

"It's just a lollipop," Fives says.

"I don't care," Echo huffs.

"But don't you want to know what flavor they made you?" Fives asks.

"No!" Echo says. "I don't have a flavor."

"But it looks like you," Fives says.

"I'm not sucking on something that looks like me," Echo says.

"Then it looks like me," Fives says.

"I'm not sucking on something that looks like you either!" Echo exclaims.

"It's kriffing sugar!" Fives retorts.

Rex taps his foot against the pavement, his arms crossed, while staring at his two arc troopers who are currently sitting handcuffed on the edge of the curb.

"Does someone want to tell me why the Coruscant Guard got called out here?" Rex asks.

Fives and Echo look away from each other in embarrassment.

Fox clears his throat. "Several passersby complained of two men in an altercation with one of them repeatedly yelling, 'suck on it'."

Rex takes a deep breath and pinches the bridge of his nose.

"We can expl–"

"Don't," Rex interjects with a wave of his hand. "I don't want to know."

Comic by @chiliger

Masterlist

AO3

Tag List: @nahoney22 @commander-sunshine @sunshinesdaydream @padawancat97 @verndusk @sun-roach @coraex @lickylickylicky @homemade-clones @523rdrebel @clonemedickix @starrylothcat @moonwrecked @ladyzirkonia @stunkbiggu @cdblake1565 @ladytano420 @moonlightwarriorqueen @anxiouspineapple99 @clonethirstingisreal @dreamie411 @trixie2023 @cw80831 @ca77m3anna @reader6898 @kimiheartblade @dukeoftheblackstar @totally-not-your-babe @t3mpest98 @novas-daydreaming @thestarwarslesbian

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[fic-over-cannon]

Strawberry Pie

jason todd x gn!reader

summary: you spend a lazy morning finishing baking the pie that Jason started

tags: kissing, fluff, domestic jason todd

rated teen | wc: 1.1k

a/n: a loosely inspired song fic. can be read as a future scene from A Soft Touch or as a standalone. just wanted something light and fluffy and was possessed with the urge for pie so here it is.

It’s warm this morning, but there’s a cool cross-breeze coming in through the open window. It’s not late enough in the spring to start turning on the AC yet, the breeze currently lifting the sheer curtains enough to keep the apartment fresh. You reach over to the empty side of the bed, let your hand bunch up into a fist before pushing yourself upright and out of bed. Jason had told you, between parting kisses, that he’d be late coming home, the planned stakeout likely to go on until noon. You’d expected this, unworried by his absence but still secretly hoping he’d have returned safe to you.

You make yourself a cup of tea and drink it leaning against the countertop, the Formica countertop digging into the small of your back, the thin cotton of your tank top barely blunting the edge. Feeling hungry, you go looking for breakfast ingredients in the fridge. There’s a note from Jason, stuck to the top of the strawberries you’d bought at the farmer’s market yesterday. For pie, do not eat! signed off with a little heart and smiley face. A few shelves down is the pie dough, covered in plastic wrap and exactly where Jason had left it, in a hurry to follow up on the lead his lieutenant had called in.

It’s a lazy Saturday morning, time stretching out in front of you. You pull out the dough and berries, set them onto the counter. Go rummaging through Jason’s box of recipe cards, one of his last keepsakes from his mother and added to by Alfred, until you can find the one for strawberry pie. The recipe is easy enough, Jason having done all the hard work of making the dough.

You start by turning on the radio, an old analogue thing that Jason had been determined to fix by himself, and setting the oven to preheat. The strawberries go into a colander, washed and ready for slicing. You pop one into your mouth and it just about bursts on your tongue, bright and sweet like sunshine. They’re smaller than the kind you can buy at the grocery store, seeds more prominent and scent stronger. It’s a shame that these wild strawberries are only available a few months of the year but it makes them that much sweeter. Humming, you slice through the quart of berries, juice staining your fingertips. Put them in a bowl with cornstarch and sugar, a dash of lemon juice to finish.

Turning to the dough, you start rolling half out onto the floured countertop. It fits into the pie dish Jason had brought back from one of his missions almost perfectly, only a few hanging edges in need of trimming. Feeling adventurous, you decide to braid some of the lattice work for the top. It comes out a little lopsided, but it’s a good first attempt. Fingers pinching, the fluted edge of the pie takes shape. A light hand with the egg wash and a sprinkle of Demerara sugar later and it’s done. You step back to admire your work. It makes a pretty picture, the pie on the marbled countertop, white tulips in a vase from your one foray into pottery, mid-morning sun bright and white through the kitchen windows.

The pie goes into the oven, and you start cleaning up the evidence of your morning’s activities. The dishes go into the washer, the countertop wiped clean, leftover berries into your stomach. So engrossed in your tasks, you don’t hear the door open or the duffel bag hit the floor of the entryway. Arms circle around you, pick you up and spin you in a circle. Jason sets you down, buries his face in your neck.

“Something smells good,” he murmurs into your hair. And it does, the air filled with the scent of golden pastry and roasting strawberries.

“It should. I’ve been working away on that pie all morning.”

“Thought that was my job.” He tries to pout, but you swat at his hip with the dish towel. The timer on the oven goes off, interrupting the moment.

“Well that,” and you gesture at the oven, “can be your job now.”

He accepts his new job with minimal pouting, scooping up the bee-patterned oven mitts and taking out the pie. It’s perfect, golden with rich red juice bubbling through the lattice work. Steam rises off the top in a way that’s got both of your mouths watering. Jason reaches out to pinch off a piece of crust with his bare hand, but you swat his hands away before he can burn his fingers.

“Not yet! It’s got to cool first Jay.” Looking him over, you finally catch on that he’s still got his jacket on and fully zipped up, despite the warm day. He only ever does that when his shirt’s got bloodstains on it. “Go on, take a shower. By the time you’re done the pie’ll be ready and you can have some for breakfast.”

Jokingly holding his hands up in surrender, he starts heading for the bathroom. “Okay, okay, I’m going!”

“Oh and don’t forget to throw anything bloody into the washer, not the laundry basket! I want to run the next load before the stain really sets in this time,” you call over your shoulder. Last time Jason had left it too long, had ended up having to throw away a previous favourite shirt when neither of your combined efforts had gotten the dried blood spatter out.

He makes a noise of assent and you get busy unloading the dishwasher as you can hear the spray of the shower turn on, leaving out two small plates beside the pie. Some forks, a large knife, and an ice cream scoop join them on the counter. You’re just getting the ice cream out of the freezer, the expensive kind with real vanilla beans that Jason splurges on, when he walks back into the kitchen. He hasn’t dried his hair properly, a habit you haven’t gotten him to break in all the time you’ve known each other and grown to just accept.

You hand the knife over to him with a careful kiss, let him carve up slices for the both of you, hands sure and steady. You’re struggling with the ice cream, frozen solid and unwilling to be scooped. Jason notices, gently nudges you out of the way with his hip and takes over, depositing two perfect spheres of ice cream on top of each slice of pie.

Picking up a fork, you feed him the first bite, hand cupped below it to catch any droplets of ice cream. He closes his eyes, goes silent for a moment. You start to get worried that somehow you’ve messed it up, maybe mixed up the salt with the sugar but you were sure it had tasted just fine when you’d licked the filling syrup off of your wrist.

“So? What do you think?”

He smiles before opening his eyes. “I think it tastes like home.”

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x gender neutral reader #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #jason todd imagine #jason todd fic #red hood x you #red hood x reader #jason todd #Spotify #header images from pinterest #header by benkeibear

[rottiens]

What are some random headcanons that come to your mind about Stalker Geto and Priest Toji? Both nsfw and sfw are welcome 😌

LURK | GETŌ SUGURU

✮ tags. . fem reader, stalker!getō, canon au, 18+ mdni ꒱₊˚⊹ divider credits. — playlist.

✮ wc. . 1.1k

✮ notes. i had to physically restrain myself from making this a whole fic, lord have mercy. what have you done to me? i'd like to explore this au more in the future and i'll be talking about toji in another post but give me time bc i need to recover from this.

the thing is, he justifies everything he does. he knows exactly the order of your coffee, and he sneaks into your apartment at night for the same reason: your good. he's just looking out for you, let him take care of you.

Satoru manages to get his friend to finally admit it.

"It's not being in love," he says. "I just admire her. she's strong." that's all, he assures him.

Despite Satoru trying, and provoking him with the situation, laughing in his face and joking about it, Satoru fails to make Suguru break down and admit it. Suguru inwardly recognizes that it's nothing more than a fleeting admiration that will pass soon, he's nothing more than infatuated with you and the way you deal with problems, kill curses, talk to people. He likes that about you, he doesn't like you, there is an abysmal step between one and the other— He tries to reason with himself.

However, he can't help but slide his eyes over you as if it's a must every time you enter the room, he doesn't know and hasn't asked Satoru if he feels it too but there is a magnetism to which he is attracted when you enter the room. He stops talking suddenly, clenches his jaw and Satoru notices the muscles tense —of course he does it with those all-seeing eyes—, before he can turn around in search of what his friend is admiring, Suguru speaks again, pushing the oval glasses on the tip of his nose up with his middle finger to cover his eyes completely and watch you in peace.

Oh, you're cute. He has to bite his lip and fake a laugh at something obviously not funny so his friend won't notice. He slyly looks you up and down, your hair is tousled, he imagines you running out of your house, leaving your phone behind and having to come back to get it because you're always early, that's why he's here.

But it's 10:48AM, he checks his wristwatch before returning to Satoru. You're forty minutes late and the thought makes him frown. Before he can stop the train of thought he's thinking about you, and the scenarios that could have happened to keep you from being early. You are always on time. He knows that.

You catch him looking, not really. You don't know because you can't see his gaze, but Suguru knows you're watching him out of the corner of your eye and with the sunglasses in between serving as a shield, he lets himself immerse in you without being overwhelmed by the fear that he'll be caught. You glance sideways at him again and soon flee to the table before you weighing up the idea of whether you should have tea or coffee.

You go for coffee, of course. With three sugar cubes, a pinch of cinnamon powder and a spoonful of honey. He's realized for a while now that he's good at those things, at remembering things you do, at remembering your coming and going patterns, how you take your coffee, the wrinkles your nose makes when you laugh, how uncomfortable you feel in your uniform sometimes, how dirty your shoes almost always are.

He sees you pick up honey and a spoon and it makes him smile. Next to him, Satoru laughs.

"Man. You really like her."

At some point Satoru moved to his side to look at you from the same point of view as Suguru. You turn to catch both teachers staring at you, suguru purses his lips into an awkward smile and raises his hand to wave at you. Satoru on the other hand, yells at you as if you’re not a few feet away from them and calls out euphorically with his hand for you to come closer. Suguru knows he is going to try to do something to leave you two alone talking and only this time Suguru allows it.

With coffee in hand you approach them both. His heart is about to burst out of his rib cage, his muscles tense as if ropes were squeezing them, he licks his upper lip looking to moisten his mouth and when you are in front of him he inhales slyly, you smell as if you have just stepped out of the shower, fresh, sweet, maybe that is the reason for your disheveled hair, maybe that is the reason for your tardiness.

And well, maybe he did have a crush, he could admit that to himself at least. A crush that would die soon, because Suguru wasn't one to date the same person for too long, people made him lose interest fast and he knows it would be the same with you.

That was two weeks ago. It's just a crush, he keeps repeating himself.

You're just his co-worker, another teacher, he tells himself. He's doing this for your sake.

He was supposed to check your apartment, exorcise a curse he saw slipping through a window as he walked past your place early in the morning, it's all a funny coincidence that he was in the right place, at the right time really and he decides to sneak out because he wants to look after you, that's all. He was going to come in and out and not touch anything, the sound of rain coming from the bathroom tells him that you'll be early for Jujutsu High today and he should get out of there soon. It's just that he didn't plan to find the red thong laid out as an offering for him on the bed, next to your pillow.

Suguru bites his cheek hard, his teeth that make him bleed control him just a little, the pain brings him lucidity but not enough to stop him when he takes two long strides to the bed. As if in a stupor he stands rigid on the edge of the bed contemplating the fabric that glistens with a wet trace in the center.

Suguru stretches out his fingers as instructed and takes it in his hand. Trembling he brings it to his nose and inhales shamelessly, his breathing heard in the four silent walls. His chest aches, his heart pounding. It smells like you, and he rubs the tip of his nose on it, closes his eyes, his long eyelashes flutter and all the blood rushes to his cock, he's so hard he can't think.

He flutters his eyes open returning to the warmth of your apartment, to the dull noise caused by a silent house, he hears footsteps upstairs from the neighbors or maybe it's yours because he no longer hears the water falling and without wasting time he puts the thong in the pockets of his uniform pants. There is another place where he should be now.

He was supposed to be in the teacher's room first when you arrived, he was going to see you earlier today and that's what matters most to him right now.

#cw dark content #stalker geto #wr #geto drabbles #jjk drabbles #geto x reader #geto x you #geto x y/n #geto smut #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #geto suguru x y/n #geto suguru smut

[tremendum]

So glad you're back bestie! I just read Personal Lies [it was so so good! Thank you for the tag] and it made me imagine Dark!DBF!Joel sneaking into your room at night to use you.

You're asleep laying on your side, he crosses your arms over your chest and then crosses his own over yours to keep you pinned against him 👀👀

omg hiiiiii thank you bb!!! so happy to be back :') hope ur doing well and thanks for the love <33

also holy shit this has plagued my mind for days since i got this omfg. i got carried away bc this idea is sooo yummy thank you and god bless. i honestly dont know what this is im sorry can be read on its own or as part two to Personal Lies!

rating: explicit. (18+. mdni.)       word count: 1k  warnings: smut, dark!DBF!Joel, sort-of cnc, somnophilia, age gap (reader is 23+ & Joel is unspecified older), manhandling (Joel holds reader so they can't move), so much dirty talk, pet names - sugar, darling, pretty - degradation, dom!joel & sub reader. creampie.

masterlist Joel fics: Personal Lies i've got headaches... Mr. Miller Series fever landmines

"darlin'," a voice curls in the dark of your bedroom - a deep thrill rolls through you as you shift under the sheets. the lock clicks in its place, as it has several times before, while you stir awake gently.

"Joel?" you call out quietly, schooling the shock from your face in case he can see through the dim moonlight. a hand trails up your leg, catching on the swell of your ass with a squeeze.

you don't even try to fight your sleepy sighs, too warm and comfortable in your bed - the dream you'd been roused from too enticing, delicious, seductive...

something in the back of your mind whispers that he probably would prefer if you were asleep, anyways - it sends a thrill through you. chills cascade over your legs at his touch as he crosses to the other side of the bed; the dip in your mattress sets butterflies through your chest, but you slightly shift to sit up. "Joel, I-"

a hand on the bare of your chest has your voice dying in your throat. "baby, c'mon, your daddy's just in the other room." he purrs, "you gotta stay quiet, now."

you swallow shakily, your heart thundering against the clamminess of your chest. "just keep sleepin' if y'need to sugar. gotta be inside you, though."

his words, his hands - your breathing shudders as your nipples pebble under your lousy tank top. you're throbbing in arousal, your body melting under the rough hands of the man. "Joel-" your voice sounds like a whine as you shift your thighs, his hands coaxing you back onto your side. "please." you whine.

he hums lowly, "shh, baby, be quiet. jus' be good and let me fuck you." sliding your sleep shorts to the side, your back arching with a jolt as two rough fingers part the seam of your cunt, his breath on your neck, body pressed hard to your back.

you think back to the first time - his hands on you, hard, eyes even harder. the look he'd given you when you'd returned from your old college town back to your dad's house for the summer, graduated and proud.

he'd wiped that proud smirk from your face, replaced it with bitten lips and bleary, blissed eyes.

you gasp out as you feel his thick cock, the head prodding between your lips, spreading your slick arousal as he rocks against you. involuntarily, your hips cant towards the edge of your bed, but strong arms grab you and pull you back swiftly.

you bite your lip as he rocks into your folds again, prodding your clit and making you suck in a gasp at the pleasure. "that's it, baby, spread your legs-" his hands grasp at your hip, pulling you back. you part your thighs, gasping as he bites on your neck, "wider."

you let out a breath at his hands, sliding over your frame and pinching a nipple. but then he's in you within seconds and you gasp - his hand clamping over your mouth and pressing, concealing the shuddering gasp from the stretch.

your eyes nearly roll back as his strong arms slink around you, pressing your arms hard into your own chest and snaking around you, pressing you impossibly into him. his scent surrounds you; plagues your sheets, your pillows with pine and amber and beer and him.

you can't move - your arms, held tight against your own chest with his as he starts to pound into you; one of his hands slides up, pressing against you and concealing your whimpers as they leak out of you with every slap of your ass against his hips.

"fuck," he hisses, "lettin' me do whatever I want t'you." he grunts, hot in your ear as you take him, hard and deep. he hits the spot in you that almost has you straining against him, your eyes drooping as sleep laces through you. "pretty little thing, waitin' for me all night with a warm wet cunt and a pretty smile. 's that right?"

he pulls your head to the side to try and see your face; as your eyes have adjusted in the faint moonlight, you can just make out the devastatingly handsome stare, his jaw set and teeth caught on his bottom lip. his eyes are dark pits that swallow you whole as he thrusts into you, lurking with the knowledge that you fell asleep tonight hoping he'd sneak in to take you.

his hand releases your mouth and you suck in a breath, his arms crossing back tightly over you as he edges you closer and closer to your bliss.

"show me that pretty smile." he utters quietly, sternly.

he pounds into you, hand pressing you back as you strain, letting yourself get fucked hard, wondering absently how badly this headboard creaks against the wall.

you smile anyways, staring back at his face, the dark twist of his features. you can see the glint in his eyes as he smirks, "tell me how much you love it."

you gasp, whispering with a heat in your cheeks, legs shaking, "I love it, Joel." your voice is weak, warbling as your smile melts into something more fucked-out, his thrusts sharp and deep.

he bites your neck, a particularly deep stroke into you sending your body careening away, his arms restricting you from moving. "that's right. you love getting fucked by your daddy's best friend."

you swallow, his words melting in your ear, your cunt clenching as you near your high, feeling full to the brim, fighting your hardest to stay quiet.

he always does this - tells you to be quiet, then pushes you, teases you, makes you talk until you're nearly screaming. it's... it's like he wants to get caught.

it's sick, and it coils something in your stomach.

you whimper into your pillow, shutting your eyes tight. his growl echoes into your ear as his hand hand frees your breasts from your arms and top, letting one hand cover them, pressing you tight against him once again.

when he cums, it's hot and sticky inside you, his chest shuddering with a deep groan.

but he doesn't leave; no, he holds you tight against him, letting your exposed breast shiver and peak against the exposed air as he gently rocks his spend back inside you.

"just go back to sleep, darlin'," his voice purrs once again, falsely kind, "you'll wake up when I need more."

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(begging) send requests!!! for Joel and Din!!! im begging! taglist: @satansgoatt @elissaaa @queerponcho @bbyanarchist @lapricot @umavvitch @asreadbyaj @dinsbaby @cottoncandytomu @switchbladedreamz @missannwinchester @abs-2020 @afandomidiot @cosm1c-babe @rogersbarnesxx @carleenphillips-blog @bonnibuckets @nightlovechild @jazzyspasms @girlboybug @cannolighost @pastelnap @userpedros @feministfanboi @frogers @grhowls @daddy-din @gothoppered @totallynotastanacc @robbatlover @casssiopeiaaa @wannab-urs @redhotkitchen @joelapologist2001 @silkiers @alltheseperfectimperfections @whorror-s @scarletthefierce

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#joel miller smut #joel miller x reader smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel x reader smut #joel x reader #joel smut #tlou fanfiction #dbf!joel #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller the last of us #the last of us (tv) #the last of us x reader #the last of us smut #pedro pascal smut