#lets fucking!!! get this damn event rolling!!!

[dontyoufeelitangel]

Bit by Bit

There’s many factors that led to you and Adam falling in love. Many small, small things. But it’s the thought that counts right?

So what are some of the events leading up to you and Adam falling deeply, deeply In love?

To start, nobody quite knows how the two of you met, it was a very long time ago. Hundreds of years ago your sure.

Many have rumors that the two of you hooked up after a concert, others say you were created by god to be a plaything for Adam. There of course were many other rumors

None of which were true though.

To this day it’s still a mystery to the public as to how you two met. It’s obvious to everyone around that the two of you are more than friends.

One event that led you to fall for him was the flying incident.

One day the two of you bumped into eachother while flying. This is an event that happens a lot in heaven, so he wasn’t surprised.

When Adam noticed it was you he teased you and made fun of your “intolerable fuck-ass flying skills” -his words not yours.

In a fit of playful rage you threw a cup of coffee at him,

It obviously caught him off guard because while you laughed your ass off, he just kinda sat there in shock.

Later that day you offered to take him to a laundromat.

It was almost like a date, the two of you talking and giggling in an empty laundromat.

Aside from both of your voices flooding the room, there was also the soft sound of his clothing tumbling in the dryer.

You offered to pay, he was pretty much infinitely rich, but despite that fact he had no coins on him.

You giggled and put more quarters into the machine. You shushed him so that you could both listen to the sound of the coins rolling down inside the machine.

You told him how the sound was so interesting to listen to.

To your surprise, Adam actually listened to you AND stayed quiet. He found it so intriguing that someone could find comfort from a sound.

The two of you continued talking.

He sat on top of a washer while he listened to you talk about the cafe in which you had got the coffee from. 

After awhile his clothes were done.

When you took them out, you held them up to his form,

Your face drained of colour. The clothes had shrunk,,,,

You must’ve messed up something on the wash settings.

You were visibly freaking out and scrambling around the empty laundromat, apologies spilling from your lips as your head was shaking.

He just sat on the washer watching your freak out as his wings made small flaps.

He wings fluttered so he’d fly off the washer and land on the ground. Once standing he grabbed you shoulders and you looked at him.

He was smiling,

Was he making fun of you?

Your eyes filled with small tears as you avoided eye contact with him.

You can’t believe you just ruined the first man Adam’s clothes.

His hands rubbed up and down your shoulders, an attempt to calm you down.

“Whoa whoa whoa! Calm down, damn!” He spoke softly, still letting his dickhead personality shine through.

You settled down and looked at him, worry filling your eyes.

“I am so so so sorry, I didn’t mean to, really!” You exclaimed,

“It’s chill, it’s chill!” He explained, you stiffened and looked at him.

He was smiling,

“Really?” You squeaked,

“Yeah really, it’s not a problem, I promise babe” his hands dropped from your shoulders. You let out a huff of relief.

You payed no attention to the nickname he added to the end.

You held your head in your hand,

“I really don’t know what to do-“ you started before getting cut off.

“I have a great plan actually” Adam grinned, you didn’t know what he was thinking.

And that’s how you ended up with Adam’s shirt.

He told you to keep it, it no longer fit him, but was a perfect fit for you.

You didn’t exactly hate the idea of having one of his shirts but what would the public think?

You can’t just waltz around heaven wearing another man’s shirt, for heavens sake, you two weren’t even dating!!

Regardless, it was a nice gesture.

You payed for his clothes to get washed, and in return he’d let you keep the outfit.

Plus,, he didn’t mind not one bit that you’d have his shirt. In a way, he almost felt proud that you got to keep it.

Though he’d never admit it out loud.

So it the next day when he say you flying around heaven in some biker shorts and his t-shirt, it’s safe to say his heart melted a bit and a goofy grin adorned his face.

.

Another instance when the two of you fell for each other was a day to remember.

Adam invited you to a carnival.

Filled with rides, games and food stations.

Adam had promised to win you a prize.

It was a cute idea, a very stereotypical guy-wins-a-girl-a-gift-at-the-carnival.

It was adorable seeing him try to win you gifts.

But after each game he still lost, maybe games weren’t in his skill range.

Adam being Adam would blame the games,

“They’re rigged!!” “These are scams!!” He’d say. You’d just giggle and pat his arms in attempt to comfort him.

In all honesty you didn’t care to win a prize, you just enjoyed your time spent with Adam.

Maybe Adam couldn’t win any prizes, but he was rich. Loaded actually.

As an apology for not winning you any prizes, he went to each and every food stand and bought one of everything from the menu.

Fries, and potatoes, and burgers, and pizza, and hot dogs, Carmel apples, cotton candy, lemonade, candy on top of candy, you name it.

Anything edible, was bought for you.

When he arrived at the picnic table with his arms full of food you let out a gasp,

“Adam! We can’t eat all of this, are you crazy?” You smile at him.

“Maybe not, but we can sure as hell try!” He dropped all the food on the table with a huge grin.

So for an hour an a half you and Adam attempted to finish the food.

You managed to have a cheese burger, half of a hotdog, two bites of a candy apple and a couple fries.

Adam on the other hand ate two cheeseburgers, the other half of your hot dog, the rest of the candy apple, a serving of fries and two cups of lemonade.

There was still a ton of food left, enough to feed multiple families.

“What’r we gonna do with all this food?” So said between bites. You were munching on some fries and ketchup.

“I don’t know bro, I’m stuffed tho” he said, letting out a sigh as he leaned back in his chair,

You sent him a side eye

“Hey! I’m not your ‘bro’” you said, mocking him. You have a slight push then a pat on his shoulder.

You giggled before leaning close to him,

“Don’t you think I’m more than that?” You teased. A wide smile covering your face, you blinked at him.

He seemed not to have gotten the joke because he let out an awkward laugh as his face turned red.

He quickly looked away from you, which only caused you to laugh at him more,

“C’mon I’m just teasing! We can give all this food to other people, let’s go” you offered as you started standing up.

Adam only nodded his head and followed behind you still flustered.

The two of you walked around and gave the extra meals to families, children and couples you saw walking around.

The candy and sweets were mostly given to the children, and the rest was dished out to adults.

You didn’t expect Adam to interact with the children, in fact, you thought he’d hate kids.

Apparently not.

Adam was extremely nice and playful with the children.

Giving them candy and treats as they walked up to him, he crouched to their level whenever they talked to him.

It was nice, seeing Adam being so kind to others.

Adam was a nice man, he just often times spoke before he thought.

You found peace in watching him be so kind and sympathetic to others.

.

There are many many reasons as to why you fell for Adam. To many to count actually,

But one event truly led you to falling in love with him.

In heaven there is always light, and time doesn’t exist either. But still, human souls in heaven need rest. Because of this, there was a large area built in heaven. A place where angels can live, and in this area there are millions of buildings and houses. This part of heaven also has a night schedule.

Higher ups in heaven managed to pull some strings so that a portion of heaven will function like earth, with sun and moon cycles.

This is where the majority of new angels stay, because their souls are still used to sleeping.

The way old souls just stay in other parts of heaven where it doesn’t get dark at all.

You and Adam both lived in the night schedule portion of heaven. Not in the same house of course.

Adam lived in a penthouse and you lived in an apartment complex in the city.

Each morning the sun would rise, and each night the sun would set. The night would bring darkness to this select part of heaven.

In actuality, you freaking loved it. You loved sleeping and relaxing when the moon came out.

In fact, you’d go as far to say the whole “night cycle” thing was the best invention since peanut butter!

Adam knew your sleep schedule, not in a weird way or anything.

He just knew you’d sleep when the moon came out.

And because of the fact the two of you spent quite a lot of time together, he had started sleeping when the moon came out as well. It was bound to happen after the hundreds of years you two spent around eachother.

It was a typical night, like any other.

You were getting ready to sleep, you’d preen your wings and wash them. You’d wash your hair and face, get your night clothing on and lay down.

You’d watch the sun set from your window then you’d go to sleep shortly after.

You did this every night, it was sorta your thing.

You were one of the few angels who actually followed a strict sleep schedule, it was very good for your health.

But like anyone who sleeps, you also got dreams.

Dreams in heaven were better than any dreams on earth. They felt ten times more positive and every second you spent dreaming was pure wonder.

So when you had a nightmare you freaked out.

You woke up fast and jerky, you body in a cold sweat and tears beading in your eyes.

Your first thought was how horrible your nightmare was. Youll hadn’t experienced nightmares (until now) since you were a human, and that was a very , very long time ago. So naturally it came as a great shock and jolt of fear to you.

Your second thought was the fear that something was wrong with you. There is no sorrow in heaven, there is no fear. You shouldn’t be scared at all. Nobody had ever felt pain or fear in heaven since the beginning of time. You were afraid that something was wrong with you, that you didn’t belong I heaven, that you were a flaw in the system. You didn’t know what to do,

You stayed in your bed shaking for a couple of minutes, grabbing handfuls of your blankets and at one point even violently grabbing your own wings.

Shaking, you reached to grab a phone from your nightstand,

You called Adam,

He didn’t pick up.

A part of you knew he wouldn’t, he was probably sleeping. But an even bigger part of you wished he would.

You let out a few sobs.

You called him again, no answer.

You were starting to freak out. You held your phone to your chest as you looked around the room.

What were you going to do?

Nobody can know that your feeling pain or fear,

But you so desperately felt the need to tell Adam, even if it would get you out of heaven. A part of you wanted to use Adam as an anchor, to reel yourself back to reality. You wanted him to tell you everything would be fine and that you had nothing to worry about.

You looked at your phone again, in a hurry you messaged him.

Adam please.

Was all the message wrote. You were to shaken up to form actual sentences.

Your shaky hand moved fast, another message was sent.

Adam.

You sent to him.

You growled at the screen angrily before you threw the phone against the wall.

You cried and cried, for this was your first time feeling fear in awhile.

You tossed all your blankets off of you. It took a second because your legs were tangled with the fabric.

You nearly fell off the bed before running to the nearest window. You opened it as the moonlight flooded into your room.

You crawled through it and jumped out, opening your wings to parachute you.

With a few flaps of your wings you were steadily in the air, you looked back to your window,

You were gonna fly away, fly to the section of heaven where there was no night, so that you’d never sleep again. No sleeping meant no nightmares.

Of course to get to this section of heaven you’d have to cross a giant city by wing.

In a fit of fear you flapped your wings as hard as you could, flying fast through the sky with no sense of direction.

You were flying with no direction, just going fast and straight in hopes of somehow leaving the city.

You flew past building and houses, your body shaking and tears falling from your eyes.

You didn’t know what you were going to do,

It seemed like everything crashed on you at once,

You were never supposed to feel this way, not in heaven atleast.

You were so lost in your own head, you only looked up before running into something.

You collided with it hard, enough to temporarily shock you.

Your wings stopped flapping and you fell a few feet before being held up by two hands.

It was Adam.

He was the thing you ran into.

Now he was holding you up,

You noticed him and the second you did you burst into tears.

“Woah woah woah, what’s wrong!” He said, checking your body for wounds, he must’ve thought you were hurt.

You had no injuries, you were just shaking and crying.

You let out a sob and then grabbed onto him, hugging him in the air. Your wings were not flapping, it was only Adam who was holding you up.

“Hey hey hey” he cooed, an attempt to calm you down.

“Adam” is all you managed to mumble out between sobs.

Your voice was wobbly and squeaky.

He help you and started to fly to his home.

The entire flight you spent crying, Adam just shushed you and cooed at you. He didn’t know what was wrong but he knew he couldn’t let his dick-headedness get in the way of him talking to you.

You arrived at his house and even when he landed you still were crying.

He carried you to the bed and tried setting you down.

You still clung to him, your arms around his form as your head was in the crook of his neck.

Instead of laying you down he sat on the edge of his bed with you in his lap.

Your cries had become sniffles, and you finally looked away from his neck.

“Talk to me” he said softly.

After a moment of silence, you spoke up.

“There’s something wrong with me” you voice came out slightly less wobbly.

“What? No there’s nothing wrong with you, who made you think that-“

“No adam…” you cut him off,

“I- …something strange happened” you said, he silently awaited another response. I look of sadness and worry on his face.

“I had a nightmare… I haven’t had a nightmare since I’ve gone to heaven,,, is something wrong? I’m I gonna get sent down?” Your voice wobbly, with each word you spoke you were sent farther and farther into your freak out. You began to cry again.

Adam must’ve noticed your panic because he held you close, his arms wrapping around your form.

“No, no, your fine, your fine” he cooed, hushing you into a sense of security.

He held your face in his hand,

“I promise you, no matter what you will not be sent down” he kissed your head, soft and sweet.

You leaned into his touch,

He must’ve had a touch of gold because each time you felt him,

You fell deeper and deeper in love with him.

.

.

.

.

Sorry for the spelling errors, ummmm yeah.

Anyways based off this song, because I saw the band a couple months ago.

#hazbin hotel fanart #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel mimzy #hazbin hotel oc #hazbin husk #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel charlie #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfiction #adam hazbin x reader #hazbin adam #adam hazbin hotel #adam x reader #hazbin hotel adam #adam #alastor x reader #x reader #Spotify

[slytherinslut0]

Why Not Both.

PAIRING: Mattheo Riddle x Reader x Theodore Nott

INFO: Lucius Malfoy, fueled by disdain for your family's wealth and competitive Pureblood status, makes an unwanted advance at a public event. Fortunately, two old friends from your Hogwarts days come to your rescue, and grateful for their intervention, you seek a meaningful way to express your thanks.

TAGS: 18+, THREESOME. complete filth. slight sexual aggression/unwanted touching, violence, an ungodly amount of flirting, SMUT, fingering, hickeys, drug use, mentions of blood, throat fucking, oral(mrec), piv, degradation kink, praise kink, italian!theo.

"Please, for the love of all things magical, conduct yourself appropriately tonight, figlia."

Hidden behind the obscurity of your tinted black sunglasses, you executed an eye roll so pronounced you half-expected your eyes to vanish into the depths of your skull. The subtle percussion of your tongue against the back of your teeth preceded the moment as you composed yourself enough to deliver a response.

"I already told you," you retorted, curtly. "I'll play nice if he does."

Your father reciprocated the eye roll, reclining back against the supple leather of the limousine seat with an irritated huff. His gaze lingered on you, a silent calculation etched across his face, contemplating what tempting offer might sway you into comportment. He knew that you were not going to make it out of this gathering alive if you let your attitude get the best of you.

"What's the price tag this time, hm?" He tutted, fingers deftly adjusting his tie while sharing an anxious glance with your mother, perched nervously beside him. "A new purse? Some shoes, perhaps? Or are we gunning for another car?"

Suppressing a smirk, you lowered your sunglasses down the bridge of your nose, casting a pointed gaze over their rim at him.

"Are you seriously resorting to bribery, padre?" The feigned disbelief laced your voice, but your mother's glare sliced through it like a knife--a silent command to hush, one you chose to disregard. Adjusting your glasses, you exhaled a theatrically exasperated sigh. "Your lack of faith in me is genuinely disheartening. I assure you nothing but the epitome of professionalism from me tonight."

"Stronzate," (bullshit) your father snapped back, his eyes smouldering with a frustration intense enough to sear through your facade, clearly fed up with your antics. "Last time you peddled that line, you ended up with Lucius Malfoy's hand around your throat during what was supposed to be an informal business dinner."

You scoffed, a smirk playing on your lips before you could restrain it. "Not my fault that lunatic can't handle the damn truth. Would you prefer I let him take advantage of you? Step on you like a fucking cockroach?"

"Listen to me," he shifted to the edge of the limousine seat, his elbows finding a perch on his knees, hands firmly clasped together. Leaning forward, his gaze locked onto yours, his serious demeanor demanding your full focus. "Just because we have money doesn't mean I will bail you out if you happen to land yourself behind bars tonight. Do not fuck with the Malfoy's, figlia, I mean it."

"You sound afraid of him," you fired back, your expression a stoic mask, unruffled. "I wonder how your esteemed associates would feel about that...one of the wealthiest Pureblood wizards...intimidated by a bleached blonde-"

"Enough," he exhaled, weariness tainting his tone as he implored, "For Merlin's sake, behave your age for once--just tell me what you want."

Pouring a measured amount of champagne, he lifted the glass to his lips, the subtle clink echoing a blend of frustration and reluctant acceptance in his gaze. You huffed, reaching into your purse and retrieving your lip gloss and flip-open mirror. As you leisurely applied it, your thoughts raced, contemplating what might rein you in.

"I want him to stop mentally undressing me in front of his wife," you declared bluntly. "It's just plain rude."

Tossing your lipgloss and mirror back into your purse, a ripple of annoyance traversed your father's features, his countenance ready to unleash a torrent of reprimands in Italian, ones you'd heard a countless number of times before. It didn't take much to get under your father's skin.

However, before the first word could escape, your mother intervened with a firm, "Cut that out, figlia--just answer the bloody question."

Her intervention carried the weight of both authority and exasperation, effectively halting the imminent linguistic storm your father was about to unleash. With another dramatic eye roll and a matching huff of irritation, you straightened out against the leather, flattening the fabric of your tight black dress out against your thighs.

"Fine," you ground out through clenched teeth. With your chin defiantly raised, your gaze flicked back and forth between your parents. "Bags. A new Fendi, a replacement for the Christian I lost, and another Prada."

Your father grumbled something discontented in Italian, the disappointment clearly etched across his features as he parted his lips to respond; his brows pinched so tight it looked painful--until your mother swiftly raised a calming hand, quelling the potential storm.

Turning her eyes to you, she wore a wry smile and declared, "Deal."

A devilish smirk played across your lips as you nodded in agreement, satisfaction colouring your calculated arrangements. Handbags were hardly a necessity, considering you already owned more than you knew what to do with--but, if your father was determined to buy your silence, to keep you from retaliating against the biggest assholes in the entire wizarding world, one of whom was intent on tearing down your family's name out of sheer jealousy--then the price wasn't going to come cheap.

As the limo glided to a stop outside the opulent venue, you composed yourself, aware that tonight meant facing a sea of influential figures. Pureblood wizards--from the Nott family to the Riddles, the Malfoys, and the Berkshires--were all gathered at this prestigious ball, amongst many others. You knew tonight carried immense importance for your family, and you harboured every intention of keeping your opinions in check, and keeping your mouth shut.

But you couldn't say the same about your legs.

Stepping gracefully from the limousine, the resonance of your red stilettos hitting the cobblestones beneath them echoed in sophistication. A subtle adjustment of your dress against your thighs preceded your purposeful stride toward the entrance. Cameras relentlessly flashed from all angles, rendering the protective shield of your sunglasses almost futile against their blinding onslaught.

Squinting, you ascended the velvet stairs, only to feel a sizable hand rest on the small of your back, accompanied by a honey-like drawl in your ear.

"Easy there, Bella...we wouldn't want that perfect ass meeting the cobbles, now would we?"

You scoffed, your smirk undeniable. Turning your head, you caught a glimpse of the charming Italian boy you hadn't seen since graduation. The desire to fling yourself into his arms simmered within, yet you reserved such greetings for the more private confines indoors.

"Gods, how I've missed that sexy voice of yours," you teased, a pleasant warmth enveloping you at the sight of him. Clad in a crisp black suit, his hair styled to perfection with light stubble grooming him nicely--he looked even better than your memory served. "Remind me to grant you a proper kiss once we're inside."

"Missed more than just the voice, I hope," he quipped, a smug grin playing on his lips. Adjusting his suit jacket with a casual flair, he leaned in, his voice a low murmur. "Inside or outside, Bella, I'm not one to decline such tempting offers."

"Believe me, I'm keenly aware," you retorted, a sly grin playing on your lips. "You never were good at resisting temptation."

"Can't resist the irresistible, principessa,"  he replied, his tone laden with a provocative confidence. "I'd take your ass right here if you asked."

"Aren't you as bold as ever," you quipped, a grin playing on your lips as you finally reached the grand double doors. Theo's hand reluctantly left your back as he positioned himself behind you, gently ushering you forward. "Perhaps you could at least buy me a drink first?"

He huffed. "Anything you want--it's yours, angioletta."

Theodore graced your ass with a subtle smack as the two of you glided into the grand ballroom, its excessive expanse pulsating with the energy of wizards and witches converging from every corner of the globe. The occasion? A celebration for the new Minister of Magic--a matter that scarcely held your interest. The real allure? A night to revel in intoxication and reconnect with the charming Slytherin boys you'd wanted to see since graduation.

And here you were, the night only just unfolding, already engaged in a provocative exchange with one of the men you'd been yearning for. His hand rested tantalizingly low on your back, skillfully guiding you through the bustling crowd.

You drew nearer to Theodore as the two of you continued weaving through the crowd, lowering your voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "My parents gave me strict orders to steer clear of the Malfoys tonight, specifically Lucius."

"Huh, can't say I'm shocked," Theo chuckled, his grin stretching across his cheeks. "After that little incident at the meeting, I'm surprised they're letting you share the same room with him."

"So you heard about that." A flush warmed your face as you peeked at him over the edge of your sunglasses. "Was I really that terrible?"

He cast you a sidelong glance, his eyes twinkling. "Let's just say, your mouth has a reputation for getting you into quite a bit of trouble."

"Maybe," you quipped, your gaze confidently drifting towards the bar across the room. "Then again, it's also been known for getting me out of a fair bit of trouble."

Theo slipped behind you as you navigated through a cluster of witches, their dazzling diamond necklaces almost blinding, even through your shades.

"Mm, I wouldn't doubt it," he husked, the audible smirk in his voice. "That mouth of yours has its own set of skills, Bella...some men just can't handle it."

"Well, lucky for me, I prefer those who can handle a little challenge," you purred, turning to shoot him a sultry glance over your shoulder. "I intend on staying far, far away from him tonight."

"As much as I want to take your word for that..." he replied with a sly grin, cocking an eyebrow. "We both know how you are."

As the two of you finally reached the bar, a dazzling array of diamond bottles adorned the shelves against the wall. The counter, a masterpiece of ornate gold foiling on a white marbled surface, beckoned with an air of opulence. Theodore leaned over it, flashing a cheeky grin at the bartender.

"Two glasses of Dom Pérignon champagne," he requested smoothly, the words gliding off his tongue like silk, "per favore e grazie."

"Dom Pérignon?" Your jaw fell open, and you drew your sunglasses down the bridge of your nose to look at him. That champagne was over three hundred dollars a fucking glass. "Are you trying to get me to fuck you, or fall in love with you?"

He choked, snorting at your bluntness. "Why not both?”

Your grin was untameable as Theo's laughter resonated through the bustling room. Collecting himself, he accepted the glasses from the bartender, presenting one to you with a deviously charming grin. His eyes sparkled with desire as they traced the curve of your lips, before falling to observe the way your red-manicured nails delicately wrapped around the crystal glass.

Shaking himself from his reverie, he met your gaze again, his smirk growing wider. "Not to burst my own bubble or anything...but if it weren't for my parents picking up the tab, we'd be toasting with sparkling cider."

A soft laugh escaped you at his cheeky admission, and you raised your glass to meet his with a playful clink. "To your parents' tab."

As you toasted, you couldn't help but savour the familiar charm that had always intrigued you about him. Despite the magnetic connection and your undeniable attraction, the boundary between friendship and something more had remained uncharted territory throughout your school years.

You had every single intention of changing that, tonight. 

As the liquid elegance glided down your throat, leaving behind a lingering warmth steeped in opulence, you held Theo's gaze as you lowered your glass, acutely aware that his eyes had yet to stray from yours. Taking a measured step closer, you tilted your head back slightly, maintaining the captivating connection as you closed the distance between your bodies.

"I believe there's still something I owe you, hm?" you purred, your voice a sultry whisper. "And perhaps...given the circumstances," you gestured to the expensive champagne in your hand, moistening your lips, "I might now owe you more."

Theo's response was a low, husky chuckle as his free hand found its place on your hip. His fingers pressed into your side with a possessive grip, while the hand clutching the glass tightened, threatening to shatter within his fingers.

Spurred on, you continued. "Unless, of course, we consider it a mere indulgence on your parents' generous tab...either way-"

"Oh no, no," he interrupted with a knowing tut, his gaze piercing through half-lidded eyes. "My parents appreciate repayment just as much as I do...consider me their collector."

"Mm," you breathed, red fingernails on your free hand trailing up his chest. "I suppose I better get to work, then, hm?"

His response was a low huff, a smouldering spark in his eyes. "Dio mi aiuti..."

A smirk played on your lips, a rush of heat colouring your face as his teasing plea to God sent a surge of desire through your thighs. Gliding your fingers higher up his chest, you seized his tie, drawing his mouth down to yours in a deliberate, unhurried kiss. With no sense of urgency, you explored his mouth, savouring the moment for all it was worth.

Until, abruptly, a curt voice sliced through the charged air, instantly extinguishing the flames that had been blazing between you and Theo. The sound made you want to vomit near instantly, the feigned niceness in its tone grating on your nerves like nails on a chalkboard. You knew there was only one fucking man a voice that sickening could ever belong to.

"Well, isn't that just adorable...young love in all its glory," he sneered, and as you and Theo reluctantly pulled away from each other, you released your grip on his tie, taking a measured step back. "...never thought you'd be able to find someone who would put up with that attitude of yours...colour me shocked. "

As your gaze met the tall, arrogant blonde man peering down at you, you bit your tongue hard enough to taste the metallic tang of blood. His eye twitched as he shamelessly scanned your body, tracing over every curve and inch of body that his evil gaze could find. You were grateful for your sunglasses now more than ever, as they perfectly concealed the intense eye roll you were directing at him.

And then, just as you were poised to respond, you caught sight of his son, Draco Malfoy, and his nephew, Mattheo Riddle, two more of your old housemates. Draco, accompanied by his wife, Astoria Greengrass, sauntered up beside his father. Each of their eyes widening in disbelief at the unexpected sight of you.

As Mattheo Riddle approached, clad in a crisp black suit and tie, his curly brown hair framing gleaming dark eyes and a strong jawline, your body ignited once more. The charm he exuded brought forth a desire you had worked extremely fucking hard to suppress during your school days, now resurfacing with an intensity that left you breathless.

"Holy shit," Mattheo breathed, moistening his lips as his dark eyes roamed over you from head to toe. He pulled you in for a hug, the smell of his cologne filling your nostrils and making your head spin without effort. Against your neck, he muttered. "Now that's a fucking sight for sore eyes."

Heat flooded your veins, spurred on by the sight of him and his compliment. You let your hand rub tender circles into his back, feeling the taut muscle tense beneath your touch.

"Flattery will get you everywhere, Riddle," you purred against his ear, your grin impossible to conceal, the warmth of his embrace intensifying the heat that flooded your veins. "I see your charm hasn't lost its touch...surprised you're not locked down yet."

"Never been more glad that I'm not," his hand slid lower, finding the small of your back, calloused palms catching on the fabric. "You're leaving very little to the imagination, wearing this..."

"Little something to fuel those late-night thoughts," you murmured, your voice a sensual drawl, heat rolling off your tongue, overflowing your veins. "Better enjoy the view while you can."

"Mm," his hand found your ass, giving it a harsh squeeze. "Don't doubt that I will."

As Mattheo finally pulled away, stepping over toward Theo and embracing him in a bro-hug, Lucius peered down at him in disgust. The atmosphere was filled with the low hum of conversation as Theo, Draco, and Astoria were deep in discussion.

Lucius was busy rambling on to Theodore's father, who had now also joined the group, seemingly oblivious to the tension simmering beneath the surface--but then abruptly shifted his attention to his nephew.

A wry huff of arrogance escaped him. "Do you possess any self-control?"

"Some, on a typical day," Mattheo replied, undisturbed, and with his gaze drifting back to you, he smirked. "Currently, almost none.”

"Right." Lucius' voice was flat, devoid of any emotion as he turned back to you. "Where are your parents? I've been needing to discuss some things with your father."

"They're around," you replied flatly, taking another sip of champagne, determined to deflect his probing. "I'm sure you'll run into them eventually; no one would ever dare ignore you, Lucius."

"A compliment from you? How peculiar." Lucius tilted his head slightly, a malicious glint in his eyes. "Similar to your father's recent behaviour...I must say he has been raising a few eyebrows lately."

"And how is that any concern of mine?" you retorted, your tone laced with partially-restrained irritation. "I don't keep tabs on my father's every move. Perhaps you should address him directly with your concerns."

"Perhaps." He smirked, his gaze lingering on you as he stepped closer--Theo, Mattheo, Astoria and Draco lost in their own conversation now. "But I believe you're easier to talk to, more...amenable."

Your eyes narrowed at his implication, but you maintained a stoic exterior. "I have no interest in entertaining conversation with you."

As he closed the distance, his gaze briefly shifted to the boys beside you, ensuring they were sufficiently distracted before refocusing on you.

"You should," he murmured, an insidious charm lacing his words. "You should want to hear what I have to say."

"Your arrogance is outstanding." Through gritted teeth, you practically snarled at him, "Get to the point."

"Your father has been dabbling in rather dubious dealings of late. It reflects poorly on me and those associated with him." Lucius leaned in closer, his voice a low murmur filled with calculated venom. "If something doesn't change, I'm going to have to take matters into my own hands."

"I try my best to stay out of my father's business," your pulse quickened, a surge of anger coursing through your veins, the air around you growing tenser with each passing second. "But, if I'm being honest, Lucius, I don't appreciate the way you're running your mouth. My parents-"

"Ah, ah," he raised a hand, silencing you. "You'd do well to remember your place, little witch." Lucius's eyes glinted with a sadistic satisfaction, and a smirk played on his lips. "Though I do suggest you start caring about your father's affairs; it might save you from the consequences of his foolish actions."

"I never asked for your advice," you hissed, the thread of restraint in your voice now frayed. "But if we're trading favours, I suggest you leave me the fuck alone before this gets ugly."

Lucius eradicated the remaining space between you, his imposing presence sending a shiver down your spine, the strong scent of whiskey enveloping you. Your gaze remained locked with his, refusing to yield, but as he leaned in, your body tensed. His lips brushed your ear, and you swallowed, fighting the discomfort.

"Women shouldn't curse, little witch, it isn't very ladylike..." he sneered, his voice dripping with vindictive amusement, the words crawling over your skin. "Perhaps your parents failed to teach you that? Amongst other things, it seems..."

You fought the urge to retch. "Get fucked, Lucius."

He huffed, his touch ghosting your hip as he muttered, "I just might."

The moment you felt his fingers graze your body, your hand rose instinctively, before you even had a chance to process it--delivering a swift slap to his cheek, making his head whip to the side, blonde locks flinging upon impact. A moment of tense silence hung in the air as you watched the anger seep into his features, witnessing his eyes darken with fury. Mimicking a move he'd pulled on you before, he seized your jaw, forcing your back against the edge of the bar.

But then, before he could utter a word, the scene unfolded like a rapid, chaotic dance. Strong hands forcefully grappled his shoulders, ripping him away from you within an instant.

"Keep your fucking hands off of her." It was Theodore's voice. Followed instantly by Mattheo's. "The fuck is wrong with you."

In the blink of an eye, Theodore was in action, hooking his arms around Lucius to restrain him, while Mattheo, fueled by raw anger, threw a powerful punch that landed square on Lucius' jaw. The room buzzed with gasps and whispers, the unexpected altercation taking center stage in the glamorous event.

Your stomach fell dramatically. There goes the handbags you'd bargained for.

As Lucius seethed with fury, he forcibly pulled himself out of Theodore's grasp, retaliating by landing a punch on his nephew. The impact split the skin over the bridge of Mattheo's nose, but undeterred, Mattheo swiftly retaliated with another punch, forcing Draco to step in and restrain him.

Sensing the escalating tension, you rushed forward, attempting to break up the skirmish. However, Draco hissed at you, his arm darting out to halt you, eyes narrowing in warning, "Just get out of here. You've done enough damage."

"Are you kidding me?" you snapped back, the clink of your glass punctuating your frustration as you discarded it on the bar. "You've always been a sickening little daddy's boy--wake the fuck up, Draco. Your father is an absolute asshole."

Before Draco could respond, the voices of your parents, entwined with Mattheo and Theodore's parents, resonated through the room, silencing and halting every single one of your collective movements. Your father unleashed a barrage of reprimands in Italian, while your mother shook her head in utter disappointment. She gripped your arm with enough force to make you groan.

Her words were no less than a snarl in your ear. "You had one fucking job tonight. One."

"I didn't do anything--he started it," your heart pounded, vision tinged with red as you spat back, uninterested in the ridicule. "He fucking touched me."

Lucius, now somewhat composed, turned to the security guards standing amidst the commotion and pointed decisively at you, Theodore, and Mattheo, his stern tone leaving no room for negotiation. "I want them removed. Immediately."

Your mother's grip on your arm loosened, her voice now softer as she said, "We'll talk about this later."

The security guards seized you, Mattheo, and Theodore by the arms, forcefully guiding you away from the group. Under the intense scrutiny of Lucius' gaze, you were pushed through the concealed back exit, leading to a row of valet cars waiting in the shadows. The door slammed shut behind you, leaving the chilly night air to greet you as the security guards swiftly retreated back into the vibrant chaos of the celebration, leaving you, Mattheo, and Theodore standing alone in the dimly lit alley.

Without missing a beat, Mattheo smoothly extracted a small container from his pocket, revealing a blunt that he quickly found a comfortable spot for between his teeth.

An irritated huff escaped you as you yanked off your sunglasses, shoving them into your purse. "What an insufferable prick."

The night air became tinged with the scent of both smoke and potent weed as Mattheo exhaled, Theodore hastily loosening his tie around his neck as Mattheo passed him the herbal offering.

"He's got his eyes set on you," Mattheo stated matter-of-factly, the words casually hanging in the air as if discussing the weather. "Not exactly discreet about it either, especially when his wife's not around."

As Theodore passed the blunt to you, you took a long, slow drag--the bitter taste of the weed lingering on your tongue as you mulled over Mattheo's words.

"He’s just looking for another thing to hang over my father's head." A sardonic smirk curled your lips, and you passed the weed back to Theo. "I'm not interested in anything he has to offer...there’s nothing he can give me that I can’t get myself.”

Theo smirked, the dim light casting shadows across his features as he took another drag of the blunt.

“I'll have to admit, it was quite the sight watching you slap Lucius bloody Malfoy..." he purred, smoke twirling around him as he paused, passing it back to Mattheo now. "Not many would dare."

“Well, he had it coming,” you chuckled, the tension of the evening dissipating slightly. “...I'm not one to back down."

"Oh, we know." Mattheo laughed, smoke escaping between his lips, wiping the blood off his chin with the back of his hand. "Your bad ass is always stirring up trouble, don't think that'll ever change."

You smirked, the corner of your lips curling with a hint of mischief. "What's life without a little trouble, hm?"

Theo chuckled, practically a scoff. “A little?"

"Please," you teasingly nipped at your bottom lip, head tilting in a seductive manner. "You know you love it."

Stepping closer to them, you sensually reached out, your fingers making deliberate contact with the fabric of their suit jackets, covering the strength of their strong arms. Moving slowly and deliberately, your touch trailed upward, both of their eyes locked onto every nuanced movement, captivated by your enticing grace.

"I believe I owe you both a special thanks for coming to my defense back there...my heroes." Your voice dipped lower, a sultry edge creeping in as you trailed your fingers upward, grazing their shoulders. "How could I ever repay you for such...courageous acts..."

"Sexy little damsel in distress…" Mattheo smirked, the blunt dangling from his lips as he leaned in, eyes dipping over your lips before falling lower, tracing your curves. "I can think of a few ways you could show your appreciation.”

Theo's grin mirrored Mattheo's as he added, "I think we'll have to discuss those options somewhere more private...back at my place, perhaps?"

"Mm," your stomach leapt with excitement, your stomach tightening in anticipation, you slowly withdrew your hands, stepping back. "Lead the way, boys."

Without needing to hear another word, Mattheo and Theo exchanged a knowing glance before they began to move toward the valeted cars, Mattheo's eyes scanning the line until they landed on a sparkling blacked-out Range Rover. Discarding the blunt with a casual flick, he turned back to you, a smirk playing on his lips.

The night air shimmered around Mattheo's dark pools as he confidently asserted, "We can take my car."

A casual wave set the valet into motion, retrieving his vehicle for him within an instant. The driver expertly guided the sleek black Range Rover to the forefront, its glossy paint reflecting the ambient lights. Mattheo opened the back door with a flourish, gracefully sliding in and making himself comfortable on the far side. A sly grin danced on his lips as he gestured for you to join him.

"After you," Theo's purr accompanied a playful smack to your ass, forcing a slight squeak from your throat, and you tsked at him before obliging.

As you settled into the lavish embrace of the Range Rover's spacious backseat, Theodore smoothly slipped in next to you, closing the door behind him. The interior exuded opulence, the cold leather meeting the warmth of your thighs. Mattheo leaned forward, parting the partition to share Theodore's address with the driver, his cologne enveloping you in an intoxicating embrace.

The air crackled with anticipation as he ended the conversation and slid the partition shut, reclining back against the seat with a provocative spread of his legs. Loosening his tie, he extracted a small bag from his pocket, revealing a white powdery substance within its confines.

"Fuck sakes," he grumbled, catching Theodore's attention. You both met his eyes. "Any chance you've got a mirror in that purse?"

"Who needs one when you've got her?" Theo huffed, snaking an arm around your waist, pulling you snug against his chest. His lips hovered over your ear, and he added, "She's got more than enough to work with, hm?"

As Theo's lips brushed your earlobe, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine, you couldn't ignore the electrifying sensation that danced across your skin. Mattheo's intense gaze fixed on you, adding to the palpable tension in the air as he waited, seemingly holding his breath for your response.

"Mm." Your voice came in a breathless, shuddering whisper, "go on then, Riddle."

Mattheo's eyes darkened with a mischievous glint as he inched closer. Unhesitatingly, he tapped a sprinkle of white powder delicately above the neckline of your dress, right on the edge of your chest. Theodore pulled you even closer against him as Mattheo leaned in, his head lowering to quickly sniff up the line of powder. A cascade of goosebumps erupted across your skin, and your back instinctively arched.

After he'd finished, lingering tingles traced along your skin, intensifying by the millions as Mattheo sensually licked up the remaining powder. His tongue danced against your skin, brushing the delicate tops of your breasts, provoking a series of deeper breaths from your lungs. Your thighs clenched involuntarily, all while Theodore chuckled softly into your ear.

Mattheo pulled up, his lips dangerously close to yours as he whispered. "You want some?"

When you shook your head, Mattheo shrugged, moving to pour more onto your chest--your heart racing as you watched him, eyes dark, jaw tensed. On instinct, you tugged your dress down a bit further, offering him better access. Arching your back into him, your breasts spilled out as you tugged the fabric a little too far, now nearly entirely revealed, nipples just barely covered by the black fabric. At the sight, Mattheo sucked in a sharp breath, jaw falling open.

"Fuck me," he murmured, his hand instinctively coming up to grope the one not covered in cocaine.

Theodore groaned against your ear, watching the entire show with just as much exasperation as Mattheo. His hold on your waist tightened, fingers digging into the fabric of your dress as through he was trying to tear it apart within his grasp.

"That's what you've been keeping from us...." Theo's voice rumbled with dark lust, the words almost tangible in the air as his lips grazed your skin. "…for all these fucking years."

The tender caress of Theo's lips on your neck elicited a soft whimper, matched by Mattheo burying his face in your chest, sniffing up the rest of the drugs, his fingers tightening their grip on your breast, kneading it with a primal urgency. Theo's initial gentle kisses on your neck evolved into hungry bites and passionate flicks of his tongue, sucking vibrant welts into your skin.

Your body wrestled with conflicting waves of sensation, not knowing which to focus on first--blood pooled beneath Theo's teeth as he broke the vessels and marked you violet, inspiring an electrifying surge between your legs, growing more desperate with each passing second. Each touch and graze intensified the sensitivity of your skin, leaving your mouth slightly agape, head tilted back, giving both men easier access.

Mattheo groaned into your chest, a primal sound echoing desire. His rough hands moved lower, finding the hem of your dress and sliding beneath it with urgency, hiking the fabric higher up along your thighs. Your legs willingly surrendered, drawn onto his lap as he pulled them there. His nails dug into your skin as he shifted his mouth higher up your neck, capturing the side opposite Theo, working his teeth along your pulse as he too began marking your skin, sucking purple possession marks to life.

A low, sensual moan escaped your parted lips, a delicious shudder rippling through your spine. As Theo pulled his lips from your skin, you turned your head toward him, drawn by an irresistible force. The moment your eyes locked, an electric charge sparked between you, and in an instant, his lips claimed yours--a blend of sweet champagne, the faint taste of cigarettes, and the lingering hint of weed creating an intoxicating mixture, dizzying your head even more than it already was.

Mattheo's grip tightened around your thigh, a deep, primal groan escaping him, reverberating against your neck. You gasped against Theo's mouth, your fingers moving to find Mattheo's big hand, squeezing him tightly, conveying a silent, unspoken urgency--inviting him to go higher.

Taking the invitation, Mattheo's fingers crawled upwards, pushing your dress further up your thighs until your thong was nearly visible. Theo's hands left your waist, curling around your stomach before moving higher, cupping your breasts and tightening his hold on them; palming and groping and squeezing as much of the supple flesh as he could.

As you whimpered into his mouth, he groaned in response, bucking his hips against you as his long fingers worked to tug them free, exposing your entire chest to the thick, heated air within the Rover.

"Fucking hell." Mattheo muttered, instantly stalling his movements, his plush lips glistening with saliva as his eyes hungrily took in everything you'd just exposed to him. "Now this is fuel for my late night thoughts..."

Lowering his face to your chest again, taking one of your nipples in his mouth without hesitation while Theo gently rolled the other one between his fingers, their collective movements causing you to whimper and squirm against them, eyes rolling back as they each panted against you; lips and hands and teeth claiming as much of your body as they could.

Mattheo's palm slipped higher, grazing your heat over the fabric of your panties, the pads of his first two fingers catching your clit through the thin layer--immediately causing your hips to buck toward his touch as he swirled his warm tongue around your nipple, sealing his lips around it, teeth giving it a gentle tug before he released it with a wet pop.

You moaned, entire body shuddering with need as Theo's teeth tugged on your bottom lip. Breaking the kiss, his mouth moved to press hot, moist kisses against your cheek before falling to your jawline and softly nipping at the ridge. You met Mattheo's gaze, his face flushed with lust, his eyes drilling into yours as he teased you, rough fingers ghosting over your slit, catching on the hem of your panties, watching every single subtle ministration of your face as he did.

"Please," you whispered, the desperation in your voice palpable. "Stop teasing me, Riddle."

"Eager little slut..." Mattheo huffed, amused, and you could feel Theo smirk against your skin, each of their grips hardening to iron. "Look at you...spoiled little rich girl--fuck...you need to be finger fucked in the back of my fucking Range, don't you?"

A guttural groan escaped you, your head falling back against Theo's shoulder. He huffed in your ear, and there was a shared satisfaction between the two of them as they reveled in the newfound ways they had you wrapped around their fingers, surrendering to them in ways you had never dreamed of before.

Mattheo exhaled, a visible effort to rein in his self-control, brushing his thumb against your clit, his free hand coming up to grip your jaw, redirecting your eyes back to his.

"You wanna make a mess all over my expensive fucking leather, huh?" His voice was torn, shredded, a snarl past his teeth. "Tell me."

Theo's hand inched lower, his teeth nipping at your earlobe, and you nodded, swallowing the knot of lust clogging your throat. "Yes-fuck-I do-please."

"Say it," he muttered, voice low, leaning closer to you as he brushed your clit again, sending a burst of electricity through your veins. "I want to hear you fucking beg for me."

Theo's hand found your thighs, slipping between them and pulling them further apart, his heavy breathing washing over your ear.

"Mattheo, fuck-please," you grumbled through a heavy breath, lungs hitching as he teased the band of your thong, slipping under and trailing down to your mound, pausing there. "Please stop being insufferable."

"Oh, Bella...wrong fucking answer..." Theo chuckled, nails biting into your thigh. "Try again."

You groaned, attempting to inch your pelvis forward, attempting to coax his hand further, but Mattheo was unyielding, instead choosing to shift his hold on your face, forcing your jaw apart with your thumb.

"Did you forget that we saved your pretty little ass back there, hm?" His thumb pressed on your tongue, eliciting a gag, his dark eyes taunting you, revelling in your vulnerability. "Drop the fucking attitude or I'll do it for you."

You nodded against his hand, tongue fighting him to no result. His fingers jabbed into your skin, craning your head back, forcing the back of your skull to rest against Theo's shoulder. He relieved your mouth of his thumb, quickly shifting his hand to your neck.

"Tell me you need it." He commanded, tightening his grip, partially obscuring your airway. "Tell me how bad you fucking want it."

"Please," you gasped, spit leaking from the side of your mouth. "I need it so bad, I need you to make me fucking cum-fuck-please..."

"Look at that...much better bambina..." Theo murmured against your ear, his warm breath inspiring a rush of heat to your cunt. "Who knew the spoiled little rich girl could beg."

You rolled your eyes, and Mattheo caught it, returning his thumb to your mouth while simultaneously rewarding your obedience. The pad of his finger drew slow circles around your clit, warmth flooding your body, your lids fluttering in relief. Your hands shifted, one clutching Theo's thigh and the other wrapping around Mattheo's shoulder, thrusting into his hair as Theo pulled your thighs further apart.

"Mm, you're already fucking dripping..." Mattheo growled, rubbing faster in response, sending shocks of pleasure through you, your hips bucking. "Filthy little bitch."

His words, accompanied by his movements, made you groan--and Mattheo huffed, craning your head back further. You were looking into the ceiling--not that it mattered. A haze of pleasure was clouding your vision, drool spilling from your mouth as he massaged your tongue with his thumb.

You felt Theo's fingers creep lower, tugging at the fabric of your panties before slipping under, slicking two of his slender digits in your wetness, teasing over your throbbing entrance. You mewled against Mattheo's thumb, causing him to retract it; and he shushed you with his mouth, capturing you in a slow, breathless kiss, long lashes fluttering shut as he increased the pace on your clit.

Theo's chest was rising and falling against your back as he slowly thrust two fingers into your wet cunt, provoking a restrained squeal as your entire body jerked in response, your cunt clamping hard around him. He growled against your ear, curling his fingers inside of you, scissoring you open as he began to pump them in and out.

"My fucking God, principessa..." Theo husked in your ear, his voice torn. "Such a tight little cunt...so fucking wet..."

As Mattheo pulled back, lips falling to attack your jawline, you were working hard to stifle your moans, spreading your legs wider, hips bucking toward their touch. Their movements were frantic and unyielding, as though they were trying to drive you toward orgasm as quickly as possible, your eyes rolling back and your chest reaching for oxygen it failed to find.

"You want to cum, don't you?" Mattheo muttered, his own voice cracking. You bobbed your head frantically, chewing on your lip hard enough to make it bleed. "Let's hear you say it, pretty little whore..."

"Please," you whispered, your voice shredded, trying your best to keep your voice down as Theo increased his pace, the slick sounds of his fingers pumping in and out of you filling the heated silence within the Range. "Please-please-please-"

"Please, what?" Theo husked, his voice breathless, driving his fingers deeper into your cunt.

"Let me cum," you pleaded, eyes squeezing shut, unable to stop the tightness coiling in your core, unable to slow your impending release. "Please, please let me cum."

"Mm," their response was a collective groan, Mattheo's lips trailing back up to find yours as he murmured against your lips. "Cum for us."

Theo grunted, working a third finger into your cunt, rolling his wrist, and Mattheo increased his pace, the two of them collectively dragging you over the edge--and without being able to control it, you wailed, hips bucking and walls pulsing as you came around their fingers, your ears ringing and your heart pounding as the results of their overwhelming, cumulative movements wracked through you, drowning you in a sea of pleasure.

"There we go..." Theo cooed against your pulse, the deep husk of his voice rolling through your body like thunder, your orgasm wracking every nerve, every cell. "I feel that little cunt squeezing me...fuck-I need to get inside you..."

"Oh Gods...oh fuck-" you whimpered, gasping and trying to catch your breath against Mattheo's mouth as the two of them continued to run their fingers along your slit, switching places as Theo brushed his first two fingers over your clit, and Mattheo thrust two of his own into your still sensitive cunt.

Your nails dug into Theo's thigh, the other gripping Mattheo's curls with force. "Fuck-oh...I can't--Theo-Matt...Gods-"

You broke open, moans flowing from your lips like water, unable to keep yourself quiet, unable to take the onslaught of pleasure that was encompassing you. Still sensitive, you were squirming, whining, whimpering into Mattheo's mouth, and they both shushed you, cooing softly as they increased the pace on your cunt.

Mattheo's free hand kneaded your tit, muttering against your lips. "Come on, little slut...you can take it..."

"We know how much you like to be spoiled, principessa..." Theo husked, lips pressed to your ear. "Don't pretend to be shy now...

You whimpered, squirming as you fought through your overstimulation, and this only seem to spur them on as Mattheo grunted before moving back to the side of your neck, hungry to consume any inch of your skin his eyes could catch.

With another groan, he latched on to you and sucked broken capillaries to existence, littering you with his possession. His hips rocked into the side of your thigh, the bulge between his legs becoming more insatiable with every passing second, electrifying the already unfathomable sensations sweltering inside you.

The atmosphere in the car was quickly changing, the two of them becoming far more aggressive, far less patient. You were flying, heart hammering in your chest, every single inch of your skin buzzing and shaking with pleasure. You knew it wouldn't be long before you broke again, your body screaming and begging for more.

"Such a pretty cunt..." Mattheo purred, curling his fingers inside you, jabbing you deep, rocking his wrist in ruthless rhythm. "You like that, little slut? You like letting us make you cum like this?"

"Yes-fuck-" the response was immediate, involuntary. "I love it-I fucking love it..."

"We wanted to do this years ago, bambina..." Theo purred, his voice like a soothing melody in your ear. "All those years in Slytherin...seeing that fat ass in the common room every fucking day..."

"Complete fucking torture." Mattheo added with a groan, the strain in his voice palpable. "I'm going to fuck the life out of this tight little cunt...fucking cum for me, slut."

You whined, your thighs quaking with the onset bursts of ecstasy, Theo moving his fingers over your clit in short, rough strokes--wetness seeping from between your legs and moistening the leather beneath them.

And as much as you tried to keep it together; to not crumble so fucking quickly, the two of them were too skilled, knowing your signs too well, and began to increase their paces, thrusting you deep under the surface of bliss once more--eyes lolling back as your body shivered in wake of your second orgasm.

"That's right." Theo purred, praise lining his lips. "Good girl... così buono.”

Gasping, you swallowed, noting the drool that had began trailing down your chin, and once you were squirming in sensitivity, they both pulled off--conveniently synchronized with the moment the vehicle's movements slowed, before finally coming to an abrupt stop. A discreet knock on the partition signaled your arrival at the destination.

As you readjusted your dress in an attempt to regain some form of decency, Theo popped open the door, gripping your hand and practically dragging you out of the car. Mattheo's palm lingered on your lower back, holding you steady and guiding you until you stood upright, each of them waiting until you'd regained some form of composure before moving. The two of them led you towards the villa, with Theo's firm grip wrapped around your wrist and Mattheo's hand planted securely on your lower back, your heels clacking off the stones with each step.

They ushered you into the opulent house, a stunning display of luxury that stole your breath. Mattheo swiftly took your purse, carelessly placing it on a polished bench by the entrance, shedding his jacket as he disappeared down a hall. Guided by Theo, you marveled at the plush furnishings and elegant decor as he led you toward the kitchen, his grip on your wrist tight enough to bruise.

The second you entered, the atmosphere shifted, the air becoming charged with anticipation as Theo's lips crashed onto yours once again, hungry and urgent and unyielding. He shoved your back against the marble counter, his hands gripping bunches of your dress and tugging it up your thighs, stomach, chest, before urging you to raise your hands--tugging it off and tossing it to the floor beside you.

His eyes widened, tongue darting out to wet his lips as he took in your exposed figure, inch by inch. "Oh mio Dio..."

A mischievous smirk played on your lips as you took hold of his tie, pulling him closer. Your lips collided passionately, and with a sense of urgency, your fingers worked swiftly to strip off his suit jacket and move toward his belt. The desire for release consumed you; you needed him now.

"Fuck, you're so hard..." you murmured against his lips as you'd undid the clasp and grazed your fingers over his throbbing length, wasting no time before tugging his pants down, revealing his black briefs. "Does this make us even?"

"Not quite, but it's a good start," he groaned, his words a breath past his teeth. "You one time inside that little pussy can settle a fucking three-hundred dollar debt?"

You huffed, biting back your smirk. "Only one way to find out."

In a swift, intense motion, Theo seized your hips, spinning you around and forcefully pushing you against the cool kitchen counter. Your breath hitched as he pressed his body against yours, hard cock grinding against your ass as his hands deftly hooked around the band of your panties, smoothly sliding them down your trembling thighs.

As soon as the fabric hit the floor, he groaned, knocking your legs further apart with his knee. His rough palm caressed the curve of your ass, before following it with a sharp spank, making you yelp, jolting forward as pleasured pain rang out over your skin.

Instinctively, you clenched, and from the border of your vision you noticed movement--Mattheo joining back in from where ever the fuck he'd ran off to, his tie removed and the first of his buttons undone.

Bringing himself to the side of the counter opposite you, his eyes traced your form, bent over, breasts pressed against the cool marble, Theodore looming behind you as he began to tug down his boxers, his thick length springing free in relief; tip glistening. The part of the counter you were bent over was not very wide, giving Mattheo the perfect position to loom in front of you, entangling his hands in your hair as he leant down, softly pressing his lips to yours.

"You want this, puttana?" Theodore cooed, teasing your cunt with false thrusts as he slicked himself along your slit, palm caressing the burning flesh of your ass. Before you could even think to respond, he spanked you once more, your flesh quaking from his power as you whimpered into Mattheo's mouth. "You want to take this cock like a good little slut?"

Mattheo pulled back, allowing you the ability to speak--his dark eyes boring into yours as he murmured. "Answer him."

You swallowed, yelping as Theo whacked you again. "Yes! I want to..."

"What to, what?" Mattheo purred, the sadistic nature of his voice drawing heat from your veins. One free hand shifting to palm his crotch.

“I want to take your cock..." you groaned, and Mattheo cocked an eyebrow, a silent gesture telling you to finish the sentence. "...like a good little slut."

"There we go..." Mattheo murmured, leaning in to kiss you again. "Such a good girl."

"Mm-so fucking wet," Theo groaned, teasing you with the head of his cock. "Shit..."

With his hand on your hip, he plunged into your warm, wet cunt, choking on his breath as you whined and pulsed around him, enveloping him to the base. Fuck--he was big--his thick girth stretching you open, the sweet sting causing you to moan helplessly into Mattheo's mouth.

"Fuck..." Theo cursed under his breath, hissing your name as you clenched around his length, head slamming into your cervix with the very first thrust. “Porca puttana…you're so tight..."

Mattheo pulled back, straightening out and smirking down at you as he fumbled with his belt, undoing the latch before pulling out his throbbing length, your stomach instantly doing a cartwheel at the sight of it. He was just as big as Theo, and equally as fucking needy--cock pulsing as he wrapped his fist around it, pumping himself a few times as he eyed your body--took in the sight of his best friend fucking you against his kitchen counter.

And then, Mattheo's hand resumed its place in your hair, yanking your head back as he directed your eyes to meet his. He leaned in slightly, dark gaze burning wounds into your skin. "Open that filthy mouth...stick out your tongue."

Moans were flying from your lips as Theo quickened his pace, pulling out and slamming back in, pinching your hips between his fingers, cursing under his breath in Italian. Through the haze of pleasure, you obeyed Mattheo's command, jaw dropping open before sticking out your tongue.

Mattheo leaned in, closer, and spat into your mouth. "You want to suck this cock?”

Your eyes rolled back, quickly losing yourself in the hurricane of pleasure Theo was providing you with, a deep growl leaving Mattheo's throat as he tightened his grip on your hair.

“Yes, please-“ you whimpered, scalp stinging. “Please let me suck your cock.”

With an approving groan, Mattheo moved closer, guiding his twitching length past your lips, using the hold on your hair to crank your head back, the angle allowing him a long, deep stroke into your mouth, and you groaned, gagging around him.

"Shh," Mattheo purred, head falling back, lids fluttering. "Relax your throat for me."

You choked, drooling and panting as he overwhelmed your throat--but he was so far gone, so encased in fogging fizzles of lust that he didn't even put anymore thought toward your struggles, his groans growing louder with every thrust.

"Fuck..." he breathed, tightening his fist in your hair, tugging the strands with force. "That's it," pushing further, he released a moan when your neck bulged, swelling with the invasion of his cock. "Choke on it, whore."

He snapped his hips, pushing deeper, and you gurgled against his dick, but it only caused him to increase his pace, adjusting your head back as he started fucking into your throat. Every thrust brought a noise from your mouth, and every noise he ignored, fingers scraping your skin as bliss overwhelmed his senses.

Your body was throbbing, desperately fighting off its third orgasm, tears stinging your eyes as Theo fucked you deep, stretching you wide, your wails being suffocated by Mattheo's thick cock, your body physically convulsing in overwhelming, toe-curling pleasure.

"She likes this," Theo breathed, his hand snaking under your hip, fingers connecting with your clit, and you wailed against Mattheo's cock, eyes rolling back in your skull as you drowned in pleasure. "…she likes being used like a piccola troia del cazzo.” (little fucking slut)

"Mhm," Mattheo breathed, voice hoarse with pleasure. "Yeah she fucking does."

Delight resonated at their words--you were so drunk on the euphoria of being fucked that you could only moan helplessly in agreement. You were close, your orgasm a quickly rising tide, ready to crash over you at any given moment. Your body was trembling, near convulsing, cunt clamping down around Theo, pushing him dangerously close to his own peak.

"Fuck-" Mattheo choked, lungs sputtering--Theo's fingers swirling your clit harsher, quicker. They were both close, you could tell. "Fucking pretty little mouth feels so good wrapped around me..."

As your eyes fluttered, dangerously close to reaching your own peak, both men stalled, pulling out abruptly. You almost wailed in protest, almost chewed them each out for abandoning you so fucking close to orgasm like that, until they moved, switching places as though it was a silent understanding, as though they communicated without you hearing it.

Theodore stepped around to your side of the counter, quickly fisting your hair and forcing your mouth to his cock. You whimpered, tasting your own juices on his thick length, but before you could even generate a thought in your head, Mattheo sank into your wet heat, sucking in air through his teeth as it swallowed his heavy, hard length.

"Fucking hell..." he groaned, hands sliding up your sides and finding your tits, cupping them as he began pummelling your cunt. "Fuck-this pussy was worth the wait...so fucking worth the wait..."

You howled in ecstasy, moaning and gagging simultaneously as Theodore fucked your throat with no mercy, thrusting in and out with an animalistic pace. Mattheo slid a hand down your stomach, trailing over the mound of your pussy, connecting with your clit and rubbing vigorous circles against it. The reaction was immediate--your whole body jolting and withering under each of their massive frames, your lungs gasping and panting for air.

"Fuck-you're squeezing me so hard-I'm gonna cum in this tight cunt..." Mattheo breathed, free hand giving your swollen ass cheek another harsh smack. "Fucking slut-shit..."

You whinged, your climax fast approaching, and Theo jerked your head further back, meeting your glossy eyes. "You want to cum, huh?" He muttered, fucking deep into your throat. "You want to fucking cum for us?"

You nodded, or tried to anyways, and Theo grinned, gracing your cheek with a playful smack. "Go on then."

Body obedient out of habit, you snapped, pleasure storming through your raw, shredded nerves, stripping them of any control they had left, legs twitching and lids squeezing shut while you screamed onto his dick. He cursed in satisfaction, his hands squeezing fistfuls of your hair while he held off his own peak, fucking into you until you began to struggle for breath, your lips and jaw going numb.

"Fuck me,” Mattheos voice was shredded, physically in pain, free hand whacking your ass. "She likes cumming on my fucking cock…sexy little bitch-fuck-“

Theo groaned, the sound doing unspeakable things to your body as Mattheo pulled his fingers off your clit and returned to clutch your hip. You knew they both were close, their movements turning erratic--Theo's chest sputtering with each breath until as you felt his hot cum shoot down the back of your throat, you mewled--swallowing every last drop.

You must have blacked out, you must have disconnected from your own body for a moment, because when you came to--all you knew was you could feel Mattheo's climax rupturing through him--you felt the violent fucking into your cervix, the hitching, stuttering of his hips, felt him silence himself against your back while he poured jets of cum into your cunt, felt him throbbing at the hilt as he stopped, wiping the sweat from his brow as he pulled out, tucking himself away.

The room was silent, and for a few moments you were paralyzed, focused on trying to bring breath back into your lungs, focused on trying to return your heart rate to a normal pace. At this point, you weren't sure what was intoxicating you anymore--wether it was the alcohol or the buzzing, overwhelming lust that was slowly fizzling off your skin--but you knew that you were spent, your body nothing more than a limp, exhausted, sweaty mass of flesh.

Mattheo gripped your arms, tugging you off the counter. Theo passed him his white dress shirt, and Mattheo aided you in slipping your arms inside before wrapping his arm around your waist--walking you over toward the couch, plopping down and lying back along its length. Theodore joined in, moving to your other side, the both of them nuzzling up against your exhausted body as the three of you worked to come down from your highs, worked to return your pulses back to a normal pace.

After a moment, once your head had stopped spinning, you flicked your gaze over the both of them, smirk teasing your lips. “Round two?”

#theodorenottsmut #theodore smut #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott smut #theodorenott #theodore nott #mattheosmut #mattheoriddle #mattheo smut #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo #draco malfoy smut #tom riddle smut #tomriddle smut #tomriddle x reader #theo nott x reader #theo nott smut #riddle smut #riddlesmut #lucius smut #lucius malfoy #harry potter #mattheo x you #mattheoxreader #mattheo riddle #tomriddlesmut #tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #draco smut

[littlemiss-yeehaw]

You're Gonna Be Quiet

Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Summary: It's just an undercover mission, anyone could be married for one night - even you two.

Warnings: profanity, flirting, yucky old men, suggestive content (?), possessive Bucky <3

MINORS PLS DNI

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: y'all.... im not an author. im an artist, not an author, so PLS go into this with that knowledge. but I have been convinced, no, coerced into posting this little funsy by @ellemj

she threatened to withhold vacation pictures from me as if I didn't draw her bucky barnes dick earlier today and I'll be damned

anyways,, please enjoy and manage your expectations :,)

“Okay, rumor has it the target, Mr. Beaumont, has a thing for married women,” Sam says casually as he holds a ring between his thumb and forefinger, “so for this mission, you get to be Mrs. Barnes.”

He tosses the ring in your direction and you catch it with a sour expression. You slip the rock on your finger and admire it, your scowl slipping just a moment as you watch how it catches the sun. That is until you see Bucky with an equally foul look on his face. Suddenly, your frown reappears.

“Sam, I feel like there is certainly someone better suited for this than me,” you grumble as you put your hand down and look back up at him, “I mean, aren’t these undercover missions more of a Natasha thing?”

Sam rolls his eyes before turning to face you, a hand on his hip. You were in for a scolding. “Natasha has her own mission. So today, you get to be Mrs. Hart. And you,” he turns to Bucky with a smug expression, “will be Mr. Hart. Any questions? No? Good, you two lovebirds go get your outfits on.”

You turn quickly, but not quick enough to miss the death stare Bucky shoots Sam. This one seems even more lethal than his typical one.

~~~

The ride to the gala is silent. Bucky is always silent, but this silence seems more… suffocating. You fiddle with the ring on your finger before glancing over at him. “Are you planning to even look at me before we get there? I mean, we’re supposed to be a marri-”

“You’re supposed to be a woman in an unhappy marriage who's looking to fuck a billionaire,” he says bluntly, not even turning towards you, “I’m just making sure that you look plenty unhappy.”

He would never admit out loud that the real reason he won’t spare you a second glance is because the first glimpse of you dolled up sent almost all the blood in his rational mind straight to his cock. He needs to preserve what little sense he has left.

~~~

You get out of the car with a huff. Just as Bucky intended, you look unhappy and thoroughly irritated. You pull the hem of your little black dress down in an attempt to recover some of your dignity, but all Bucky notices is how the little tug causes your breasts to be even more apparent. Yep, there went the rest of the blood.  

He sighs and grabs your hand before plastering a fake smile onto his lips. “Let’s get this over with, shall we?”

You sigh and forget anymore yanking on your dress, looking up at him with a grim expression. “Let's,” you mutter under your breath before letting him lead you into the gala. 

As expected, the event is extravagant and no doubt costly. You feel out of place, and you can’t help the way you move a little further into your ‘husband’s side. You let a breath of air past your lips as you look around the room for your target. Nowhere to be seen, you nearly move further into the room before Bucky squeezes your hand gently and nods to his left. You’re quick to ignore the flutter of butterflies that his touch sends shooting through you and casually look where he’s pointed. Surely enough, at the bar, sits a piggish man nursing a flute of champagne. Your eyes find Buckys and you shoot him a look before you drop his hand and make your way over.

You take a seat a few bar stools down from the man, making sure to fail at getting the bartender's attention. “Sir? Sir, could I-” You drop your hand with a sigh, feigning a disheartened expression.

“Sir, this lady would like a drink,” like a mouse in a trap, Mr. Beaumont waves him down for you and orders you a drink, “you look like you’d drink something fruity, a little thing like you. Maybe a sex on the beach?”

You wish you’d missed the way his lips pulled up in a foul grin and the way his eyebrow raised ever so slightly, and you really wish you hadn’t seen his greedy eyes rake over your body. Nonetheless, a soft laugh and a bat of your lashes grace him instead of the scowl that wants to pull at your lips.

“I’ve never had one before,” you say with a saccharine smile, “maybe we could share.”

You notice how his eyes nearly bug out of his head and then slowly trail to your hand. He slides his fingers, not dissimilar to link sausages, down to your left hand where he trails a thumb over your ring. “Are you sure your husband wouldn’t mind,” he asks with that same vile grin, moving his hand to rest on your knee.

“Not particularly, but I’m sure I don’t care,” you whisper teasingly, leaning forward and showing off your tits that practically beg to fall from your dress. ‘Hook, line, and sinker’ you think as the man runs a heavy hand up the side of your leg and his eyes trail down your neck to your cleavage.

Trembling anger washes over Bucky as he watches the man practically feel you up in the middle of the bar. The beads of perspiration running down the target's neck and the way he keeps nervously licking his lips give Bucky all the indication he needs to know this man thinks you’re his. Then Bucky turns to look at you. You. You’re just letting the man have his way, no, you’re encouraging it. Yes, it’s the mission. And, no, Bucky has no reason to feel such vile hatred for the target in any sense other than the professional one. But for some reason, he finds himself wanting to dismember any part of the man that graces your body where he hasn’t yet.

Yet?

Yet.

~~~

“Who’s this, darling?”

You bristle as you feel a breath of air pass your ear before the deep timbre of Bucky's voice even registers in your mind. You whip around to look at him, an expression of anger and bewilderment replacing the flirtatious grin you were just donning. You look back to the target, trying to mask your surprise.

“Honey,” you manage to say through gritted teeth, “I didn’t even see you come over.”

You pull your hands from the target's grasp, nearly cringing at the moist feeling left behind on your skin. You feel Bucky’s firm hold replace Mr. Beaumont’s slimy touch, and your body reacts all too positively. You lean back hardly at all, but it’s enough to feel his chest rigid against you. Was he standing too close or were you too eager? There was no way to be sure, but one thing you could be sure of was the fact that neither of you shied from the contact.

“Hmm,” he hummed lowly, a disapproving air oozing from the short sound, “when you never brought our drinks over, I got curious as to where you’d disappeared to.”

His eyes shift from the side of your face to the man across from you, who grows increasingly uneasy at the sight of your tall and broad ‘husband’. Bucky leans down close, so close that his lips brush against the curve of your ear and you hope he can’t hear your blood rushing in your head.

“I’ll ask again, who is this?”

You’re not sure if it's what he says, or the way he says it, but his words send a wave of arousal through your body. Suddenly, the too-tiny dress feels too hot and you’ve nearly forgotten his question. That is until he quirks an eyebrow and tilts his head expectantly. You clear your throat and look back to a flustered target, presumably intimidated by your colleague.

“This,” you reply before turning back to the sweaty man, “is Mr. Beaumont. He owns a software company and..”

You turn to the target, a ditsy smile on your lips as you try to recover your role, “what else did you do? I forget.”

He laughs nervously, shifting on his bar stool to make himself appear taller. Still pitiful in comparison to the man currently staring daggers at him over your shoulder. “I develop software and coding for various companies and organizations to use where they deem fit.”

Another low hum sounds from Bucky’s throat as he lifts his head from your ear, he meets Mr. Beaumont's eyes and sighs.

“Very impressive, Mr. B,” he says condescendingly. You frown, peeking over at him. What is he doing? This was not a part of the plan, “so you must be a smart man?”

The man in question smiles smugly and nods. “I’d think so, yes.”

“Well then, pray tell, why have you been feeling up my wife,” he asks coolly, Bucky’s turn to look smug. You, on the other hand, whip around to stare at him with an irate expression. He looks down at you with a matching frown, hardly able to mask his irritation, “Don’t worry, dear, I’ll handle you later.”

You’d like to think you were subtle in your shock, in the way his words leave you flustered. You had no idea Bucky could smell the wave of arousal that flooded your panties, or that he could hear the beat of your heart like a snare drum. Neither of you even noticed the target’s pitiful stuttering, too caught up in the most sexually charged staring contest ever.

~~~

“What the fuck, Barnes,” you hiss quietly, walking ahead of him to the car with steam practically flooding out of your ears, “I mean, what the actual fuck!”

You don’t wait for him to catch up before you get into the passenger seat, slamming the door shut behind you. You didn’t care for appearances, your mission having been sabotaged by your own partner. What appearances did you have left to keep up?

He gets into the driver's seat a few moments later, pulling his gloves off with a sigh before running his flesh hand over his face.

“Are you done?”

“No,” you snap, turning to face him, “I’m not. You have the audacity to call me reckless, but you go and pull a stunt like that? I had it under control.” Your cheeks are red with irritation and your hair is a mess from you running your fingers through it, but he’s too caught up with thinking what else would have you looking so flushed.

“If you’d just shut up and listen-” he starts, but you’re quick to cut him off.

“I was getting the intel,” you’re practically ranting now, “and you just had to swoop in. And for what? To be all macho? To fluster me?”

The scowl on his lips that once matched yours turns into a scoff, and you narrow your eyes at him. Why are you looking at his lips? And why can’t you pull your gaze away from them? “What? What now,” you ask with a huff.

“You really need to learn when to stop talking,” he mutters, looking at you out of the corner of his eye as he tries to wipe the smug smile from his face, “y’know that?”

You’re startled by his words, the flush on your cheeks no longer caused by his irritating actions but by his shocking words. Your eyes travel over him shamelessly, ready to jeopardize everything just to get rid of the tension that has lingered and grown exponentially over the course of the evening.

“Then why don’t you shut me up,” you ask softly, your tone opposite to the defiant one you’d held only moments ago. Judging by the minuscule way his eyes widen and the way his lips part around a sharp inhale, you’d be safe to guess he’d beat you to the idea.

You aren’t sure who moved forward first, or even if you’d moved at all. All you can be sure of is the feeling of Bucky Barnes kissing you like he’d never have the privilege again. 

Your lips move feverishly against his own, the car filled with quiet pants and sloppy smacking. His hands tangle in your hair and he tugs you away from him, his expression turning stern when you whine petulantly. “Did you know you were a fucking brat tonight,” he asks lowly, his stare hard. You swallow thickly, pressing your thighs together to relieve the ache between them.

“I was not,” you rebut, your brows furrowing and your lips turning down in a pout. He didn’t like that.

“You were,” he chides coolly, releasing his grip on your hair and sighing, “especially after we walked back to the car. You never even let me explain why I stopped you.”

You would like to focus on his words, but you’re too worried about the way his metal fingers nimbly undo the buckle of his belt. Silence sweeps over the car, the only sound being your shaky breath and the clank of metal on metal.

“So here’s what we’re gonna do,” he continues, “I’m gonna talk, and you’re gonna listen. Quietly.” You’re salivating as he tugs the zipper of his dress pants down, allowing the tent in his boxers some much-needed reprieve. “You know why you’re gonna be quiet?”

“Why,” you ask in a breathless whisper, only just now meeting his eyes again. 

“Because your mouth is gonna be full."

#bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes smut #mcu #the winter soldier #winter soldier #fanfic #reader insert #smut

[kithtaehyung]

would u? (3tan717) | myg

3tan717 drabble #1: would u? pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f) series: masterlist | three tangerines | 3tan717 rating/genre: pg (18+) ; fluff ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au summary: you see a certain fruit-centered trend online.. and decide to test it on yoongi note: i am so so so sorry this is out on the very last day of feb but things have been absolute bananas lately! tbh i’m surprised this is even getting posted on time and i have even more to do after this is shared but eff it shibal!!! note 2: as promised, this is dedicated to the people that submitted the answers i’m using for this drabble: anon, grapes / @yoongrace, and apryl @aprylynn for this idea hehehe! also i literally just finished this so it's legit unedited so i'm sry for any mistakes! off to go prep for events now! warnings: 3tan yoongi as always, working yoongi??, kitchen, period cramps suck but yoongi to the mf rescue drop date: feb 29th, 2024, 10:03pm est word count: 2.3k

-

-

Ugh. 

Why does this have to happen every fucking month. Why can’t it happen every three? Or six? Or never ever ever? 

Groaning, you roll over, burying your face into the pillow on Yoongi’s side. 

To some degree, you feel placated, probably due to his scent still lingering next to your dismay. He had to get up early to finish a track, but he assured you can be in the room. 

You can hear a little bit of what he’s working on as it bleeds through his headphones, and even just this sliver of sound gives you chills. Not just because of what it sounds like, but the sole fact that Yoongi’s letting you even listen in the first place. 

Huffing out a bit of amusement, you remember the last time Yoongi let you stay while he worked—albeit at his place while he went to the studio. 

Damn, how much you’ve grown since then. All those memories, those quiet times and tumultuous times, everything leading up to now. How time has molded you with knowing hands. 

However, no matter how much has changed all these months, some things have not wavered, like the fact that you needed to be sure he was okay with it—and his answer making you absurdly shy. 

Did he really have to say that you’re either staying or he’s gonna leave? That scheming motherfucker! 

Some drum beats hit your cheek before you realize the menace himself is playing multiple different ones. It’s only a couple hits before he moves onto the next, and you’re about to lift your hea—

“Fuck, where the hell is that kick?” 

Your laugh is stifled by cotton. As tickled as you are to hear Yoongi like this, you don’t wanna do anything to distract him. 

But by doing so, that causes your body to tighten and fuck, it hurts. It hurts to move, it hurts to laugh, it hurts to just exist. God, you want him to come back and join you so bad, but you don’t wanna be that person. 

…Yet. Maybe if it gets so bad you can’t even sleep? 

“Found you! Fucking finally. Thought you could hide from me, huh?” 

Oh, fucking hell, he’s adorable. 

Yeah, there’s no way you’re making him drop everything right now. This is too precious of an afternoon to stop. 

Exhaling a mile long breath, you fight through your pain and feel for your phone, groaning as you shift yourself. When in position under sheets and warm sunlight, you cycle through apps as a distraction. 

Scrolling. Scrolling. Smiling at some animal videos a bit before scrolling again. 

After all of five minutes, you start to see a trend on your feed, and suddenly get the idea to try it on Yoongi. It’s simple and harmless, right? 

You [3:30pm]: would u peel an orange for me 

Yoongi doesn’t say anything, and you lift your head slightly to see if he looks at his phone. 

When he does, he checks it really quick before setting it back down on his desk, back to clicking on his screen. 

Ah. Damn. He must really be in the zone because… 

Uhh. 

Blinking, you watch as Yoongi rolls his chair out to get up, setting his glasses down and heading out of the room with a light swing of his chains. 

Uh. What just happened? Did you upset him? You’re so stunned that his swift exit has you wanting to get up and follow him.  

But ow. Ouch. It’s maddening how much your cramps are getting to you. 

Bearing the punches to your gut, you start sliding out of the bed, straining and sucking in sharp breaths just to stand and pull Yoongi’s comforter over your tension. 

Padding out the bedroom, your worries make your steps tiny and heavy, and you regret sending that text because you literally just said you weren’t… gonna…

On the dining table—quiet—lie three tangerines, peeled and placed next to vibrant scraps while your lover peels a fourth with diligent, devoted hands. 

And you can’t even form words that match how you feel. 

Your vision swims right as Yoongi looks your way, his body stilling before he puts the fruit down. 

When he approaches with concern, you answer his silent questions through hiccups, “I—I thought you left cus—you were mad.” 

“Huh?” 

“I don���t even know,” you swallow, gesturing to all of your lower half and feeling him hold the slipping blanket. “It’s just… this, I guess.”

“Does it hurt?” 

“Like a motherfucker.” 

“Oh, shit, I’m sorry, doll. Hold up.” Handing you the comforter, Yoongi goes to his cabinets in the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of medicine before walking it over. “You gotta take something as soon as you feel it. Don’t let it get this bad.”

“I know,” you groan, resting your head on his shirt and inhaling his healing presence. “I didn’t wanna bother you.” 

Your forehead is kissed. “You’re not bothering me. Especially with something like this.” 

“Okay.” 

He walks away again to grab some water, and you watch as he pours some into an electric kettle before starting it up. 

Glancing back at the fruit, you sigh, clutching the bottle of pills while feeling the weight of his comforter. He’s probably not pleased with the way it might drag on the ground, so you gather it and pick the end chair to sit on. 

And then you sigh, “Sorry for making you peel those. I didn’t even plan on eating anything.”  

“Too bad. You’re gonna eat what I make you anyway.” 

Wait, he’s cooking? He has work to do! “You’re working, though. Don’t worry about me right now.” 

“It’ll be quick.” 

“What are you making?” 

A glass bowl and pan are procured from random places before Yoongi blinks in place. “Uhh.. You’ll see.” 

As he clunks them onto his counter and stove, you watch with hearts for eyes as he bustles around the kitchen space. Even doing things as simple as washing his hands, opening his fridge, and simply grabbing a knife gives you pause. 

And this is when you realize that you can watch Yoongi do absolutely anything and be amazed. 

Even when he stands, watching you with a look that’s wait why doesn’t he look—

“Take the medicine, baby girl.” 

Oh. 

Snapping out of your trance, you nod. “Sorry.” 

Yoongi continues to give you glances until you swallow down the painkillers, satisfied enough to continue his cooking venture when you take the second one. 

As the sun paints the apartment in marigold and light, you keep watching with a smile as he brings the kitchen to life. Butter sizzles in a pan, tangerines are getting halved on a board, and something is getting mixed with a whisk. 

Who knew that the neighborhood fuckboy would have a whisk on hand? Not the younger you, that’s for damn sure. 

But here Yoongi is, in the flesh, whisking away with veiny forearms that have you thinking the most absurd thoughts during this time of the month. The only thing that would cut through the raging horniness would be getting up to see what the hell he’s making. 

It’s starting to smell familiar though. But he put the tangerines in the pan so you don’t even know what to expect right now. 

Walking up—blanket left behind—you observe the kitchen before peering over his broad shoulder. “Mm.. Smells like pancakes.” 

Yoongi doesn’t answer, but when you see the consistency of the batter, you realize you’re correct. “Oh, it is! I’m smart.” 

“You are,” he laughs. “But you didn’t get it all the way right.” 

“No?” 

“Nope.” Yoongi then gently gets you to move before he pours the batter over the slices, and you crane your neck to watch as he evens it all out. “Just one tangerine pancake.”

“Oh, okay,” you scoff, earning a laugh at your side. “Whatever, chef.” 

“We’ll see what you say in a bit.” 

Is he gonna leave it or flip it? Probably the latter. 

“K. Gonna flip that once it’s done.” 

Nice. You smile to yourself, loving how you’re starting to really be on the same page. Nudging him, you keep watching as he lowers the heat and sets the lid on the pan. “What now?” 

“We wait,” he responds, dusting his hands together before cleaning up his mixing bowl. “And I’m gonna see if we have any sugar.”

Damn it, Yoongi cannot keep saying that two-letter word. It’s starting to be detrimental to your health. “I can help.” 

“S’ok,” he assures, nose upturned. “Just watch me work.” 

“Oh, I’m very good at doing that.” 

At this, Yoongi turns and gives you a smile that immediately reminds you of summer, and you almost feel like crying again. 

“I’ve actually never tried this, but. We’ll see if this works.” 

With nothing snarky, or teasing, or fake to say, you reply with a smile and a genuine, “I’m sure it will.” 

When he keeps staring, his eyes lower to your lips, and you don’t care that you probably look like a wreck, or feel like one. Because the way he’s looking at you now makes you glow. 

If only the kettle didn’t decide this was the moment to stop boiling. 

You were probably about to get the kiss of your life. 

But Yoongi halts in his tracks before shifting to get a mug, setting it down with a thud before checking on the pancakes. Pancake. Whatever that delicious-smelling thing is gonna be. 

“There’s some tea packets in that right drawer. Help yourself cus I’d rather you pick.” 

Chuckling, you oblige before scooting over. After seeing a small jar of granules on the counter, you start rummaging through the drawer, exploring the various options while hearing the sound of a plate behind you. 

Ah, Yoongi’s flipping it. 

As you turn, you’re just in time to watch the muscles in his back protrude through his shirt as he flips the pan, impressed as he sets the plate down because holy hell that looks great. 

“Sugar, sugar, sugar… Suga, suga, suga.” 

Laughing, you interrupt his silly search as you grab the jar you just saw. “Suga suga, how you get so fly?”

Yoongi stops to see what’s in your hand, and he huffs through a grin before grabbing it. “Thanks, doll.” 

You keep humming the song that’s now wedged into your head as you watch him sprinkle bits on the pancake. 

“I don’t have a blowtorch,” he admits, “But I do have this.” 

Rolling out a drawer, Yoongi takes out a long lighter before holding it to the sugary top, humming the same song you were just singing without even knowing it. As the sugar slowly but surely heats, you both keep humming and basking in a calm afternoon. 

And you don’t even feel the pain anymore. 

“Go ahead and sit, babe.” 

“You sure?” 

“Uh huh.” 

Following instructions, you make your way to the table, cocooning yourself in his comforter again as you await the cutest meal you’ve had in weeks. Months. Lifetimes. 

Speaking of lifetimes… You hope every version of you meets every version of him. No matter when. No matter where. Because you want every version of yourself to find happiness, and Yoongi has been the one to help you finally find it. 

And he certainly passed whatever the hell this orange theory thing was supposed to be. 

Plates are set down to break you out of introspection, and you glance up with eyes sparkling. 

When Yoongi raises a brow, you just smile. When he asks what’s gotten into you, a chuckle escapes before you shake your head, 

“Nothing, baby. Just didn’t expect all this from that text.” 

As he plops into the next chair, you love the way the sun settles on his skin. Highlights his hair. Shimmers in his eyes. 

“Don’t even need to ask, babe.” He captures your attention with a calm look. “I was waiting for any distractions anyways.” 

So this was for him, too? Good. 

Grabbing your fork, you giggle. “Sounded like you were having a little trouble over there.” 

“I was! This is what I get for not saving my shit.” 

Both of you sit back in laugher as you throw your hands out. “Do that!” 

“I’m lazy!” 

“Tough shit!” 

“I know!” 

Grinning, you loll your head before waving your fork out. “You’re gonna save those sounds, and you’re gonna remember this day and thank me.” 

Yoongi just tightens his lips in a smile, eyes creased and glimmering. “Maybe.” 

“Yes. I’ll stand there and watch you until you do it.” 

"Really.."

For the rest of the afternoon—with full bellies and clear minds—you rest on the edge of Yoongi’s bed, forcing him to find the files he needs and watching him groan his way through saving everything. 

Constantly laughing at the ridiculously random names he’s assigning them.

When he’s done, you watch as he spins around in his chair, heart thumping with anticipation as you’re met with a waiting pair of eyes.

Breathtaking. 

When he leans in, you feel incredibly shy. Always, always, always. This will forever remain the same.

And—just as well—Yoongi's kisses will forever taste like tangerines. 

Three of them, to be exact. 

-

-

fin. :)

-

how did the first 717 drabble go! | join the discord hehe

a/n: nothing much to say other than i love y'all so much! i will try responding to anything when i can (there's literally still all the 3tan12 feedback to get to) but i do read all the commentary sent in and it keeps me going strong :'))) so thank you again for being here and being amazingly patient with me. off to work on more things but i shall be back once the wild weeks are over!

a/n 2: suga suga how you get so flyyyy hahaha

#ahhhh here we go! #3tan717d1 #3tan717 #bts fic #bts imagines #*ryenfictalk #bts reactions #bts fanfic #yoongi fic #yoongi fanfic #three tangerines #yoongi fluff #yoongi x you #yoongi x reader #*latest #ryenwrites #bts fluff

[certifiedfreec]

・❥・close - gojo satoru x f!reader (crossposted on ao3!) ・❥・

⊹ oh nooo you’re trapped in a hotel room with gojo… and there’s only one bed… ahhhhh

⊹ 18+, smut, frenemies to lovers, a ridiculous amount of banter

⊹ word count: 9.8k (i’m so normal about him lol…)

“Well fuck.”

Mouth agape, you stand tiredly beside your overly cheeky partner-in-exorcises, surveying the last available hotel suite that’s closest to your current assignment. Cramped could describe it if you’re feeling generous, as the sparse amenities make the single queen-sized bed in the center of the room look like a California King. The overblown stock photos of generic flowers hanging haphazardly above the bed are nearly mocking the otherwise drab room, and the dim lighting makes it all look more dingy than romantic given the scenario you’re in.

One bed left in this overbooked “hotel…” This has to be a fever dream.

“I call the left side!”

Said partner, Satoru Gojo, is oblivious to your inner turmoil as he languidly steps into the room with his singsong tone, surveying what little it has to offer with an otherwise calm expression. God, this guy gets on your nerves, but not for any pertinent or extravagant reason. Really, he just carries himself a little too cockily for your taste, like he’s used to people fawning over him for doing nothing. While you work well together for the most part, there’s something about his presence that just makes you-

“You can take the whole thing,” you grumble dismissively, carefully moving around him to set your backpack down on the warped work desk. You’d sooner sleep in the bathtub even if it was soaking wet, you think.

Your eyes nearly fall out of their sockets with how hard they roll when you hear him let out a feigned hum of disappointment. You can sense him studying your every move, even through that stupid blindfold thing he’s always got on.

“Bummer. You scared you’re gonna catch some cooties? I’m not contagious.” Gojo tuts playfully, shaking his black jacket off and tossing it over the back of the chair. “Guess that means more room for me!” He wastes wastes no time in flopping onto the middle of the stiff mattress with a grin, and part of you can’t help but admire- no, simply notice, you tell yourself- how his shockingly white hair and pale skin contrasts the dull, dated comforter. He’s got a white button down on, and you’re tempted to call him a bloodsucking vampire with how translucent he looks. Humming to himself, he reaches for the remote that practically shrinks in his large hands, clicking the clunky TV on and watching it take a few minutes to whir to life.

You’re unsure what to do with yourself, but you’re determined to put some space between the two of you with whatever happens. It’s unfortunate when you realize that you really might not be successful with that endeavor, given your dwarfed hotel room that could trigger any sane person’s claustrophobia. It didn’t help that this guy already took up most of the lackluster room with just his body, either. Your eyes flicker over to your work partner, who appears unnervingly okay with this turn of events. With a deep sigh, you pull out the creaky chair and slump defeatedly onto the desk. You’re careful to scoot to the edge of the chair so your back doesn’t make contact with his resting jacket, and he doesn’t miss your obvious attempt at distance. It’s known by many that he’s always been a huge fan of himself, and you’d be damned if you ever let him think you were part of that club, too.

“Hey, careful with the outerwear.” Gojo’s selectively ignoring your clear discomfort, opting to poke at you anyway because he just does that. “That’s a pricey jacket, y’know.” His face is serene as he’s clicking through the available channels and making his own little noises when each show is less intriguing than the next.

“Right… I’ll try my best,” you reply disinterestedly with a yawn. You rest your face on the cool wood- anything to mentally take yourself out of the painfully tiny space you and this massive human were expected to share for the evening. It’s been a long day of mundane yet necessary work, and apparently the real work is supposed to happen tomorrow. Being instructed last minute to change your stopping point for the day, you were left with no choice but to call around in a new area until you found an option. Gojo simply shrugged and started searching, not even slightly irritated at the change of plans. It irks you how little your colleague is bothered by, well, anything, because it has to be disingenuous at some point, right? Over time you’ve realized that with him, it truly is a brazen confidence- a kind that you decided was more dangerous than reassuring in reference to your line of work. It’s just unnatural- then again, nothing in your field is, so what’s your real issue with him? The question always leaves you befuddled at your core, and now it’s glaring in your face with the close quarters you’re sharing.

After some time spent listening to Gojo’s disjointed chuckles at whatever was playing, you take out your phone to text Shoko about your dreaded situation. This’ll be a long night, you think, grasping at straws to reason that it’s only temporary and that the smell of his spicy cologne will soon fade away from your senses. You have to say though, the scent fits him pretty well…unlike this miniature room you’re both posted up in.

Your eyes betray you when they briefly flit over again at the man lounging across the bed. It’s quite the spectacle, as the ends of his gangly legs and feet are dangling awkwardly over the edge, yet his expression is serene. The word "cute" passes through your mind and you immediately shush it by reflex, but it’s not as strong as the newfound proximity that prompts you to finally tease him in a dry tone: “Jesus, you’re taking up the whole thing and it’s still not enough.”

“Tell me about it.” He’s quick to react to your statement, and you swear you see his broad chest huff with amusement out of your peripheral. “It must be the price to pay when you’re a dreamy, charming, six foot three Jujutsu Sorcerer,” he adds in a lighthearted tone that seeks feigned sympathy. You’re not looking at him anymore, but you can guess that he’s batting the long white eyelashes that decorate his electric blue eyes. Meanwhile, you’re battling a smile.

Shoko’s not answering your SOS texts, so you actually decide to take the bait in the meantime. “You poor thing,” you coo halfheartedly, “It’s just never enough for you.” You shift, draping your arm over the back of the cheap desk chair that warps under your weight.

“You’re so right! I’m glad someone finally understands.” He points a finger at you, clearly pleased that you’re bantering along, and then he rests that same finger on his pointed chin. “Speaking of nothing ever being enough, I’m starving.” He suddenly sits up, making the bed creak with his movement. It’s apparent that his focus has shifted from the lifeless television show to you. “Who delivers around here?”

Gojo’s nonchalant behavior has the opposite effect on you- it’s disconcerting. At the same time, a very quiet part of you wants to warm up to the idea of finding it endearing. Being annoyed by him was all you knew- how could you ever change now?

The noise that escapes him is pure juvenile glee when you wordlessly open up a delivery app on your phone and sling the device over to him, which he catches with ease before scavenging through the limited number of nearby restaurants. If anything, you’ve never seen him so locked in. You hear him murmur his commentary to himself as he swipes through, picking out his order from his spot on the bed (which is basically the whole thing), and then he abruptly stands up with a matter-of-fact tone in his voice. Without watching him, you hear his steps move somewhere behind your seat.

“Hey, your girlfriend Shoko is texting you. I had no idea I was such a hot subject! Well, maybe I did.”

Oh shit. The heart that previously resided in your chest has plummeted to your stomach. You completely forgot you’d been virtually begging her for moral support when you first arrived at your shoebox of a room.

You muster all your inner strength to maintain a semblance of cool. “Is she on her way to save me?”

The grin on his face is nearly glowing as he reads your screen. “Hah, you wish. It says, and I quote, ’Sorry I’m just now seeing these! How are you and your “Honored One” doing? I promise he’s not as bad as you think he is, LOL.’”

You can feel all the blood in your body rush to your face as Gojo continues to read the message, who is doing everything to refrain from bursting into a fit of laughter. “’At least he’s not the worst looking, and you guys are gonna have to share a bed anyway. Wink emoji, wink emoji.’”

Your world comes screeching to an ugly halt. In this moment, you remind yourself to never text Shoko while you’re in the same room as him- ever again.

“Oh my god… You’re lying. Stop it!” You feel a wave of sickeningly nervous giggles threaten to rack through your body as you fly out of your rickety seat, marching over to the lanky sorcerer and swiping at him for your phone. He tsks, holding the device up from your reach with a mischievous tilt of his head, and you’re sure that you’ve never been this flushed with humiliation before. His muscled arm holds your phone up revealing the chat, and unfortunately, he wasn’t lying. And his voice? It’s smug, obnoxiously so as he taunts you. “This is so much more interesting than ordering food right now. I think I’m gonna answer her. What should I say?”

“Give it back, Satoru Gojo.” You glower up at him, silently knowing your efforts are futile due to your drastic height difference- and that goddamn Infinity ability of his that he loved to show off.

“Oooh, don’t say my full name. It really scares me,” Gojo gasps mockingly before making a show of squinting up at the screen and beginning to type with his other hand. “Let’s try this.” His fingers begin to dance across the screen. “’Shoko, I think I might be falling for Satoru Gojo, all six foot three of him. We’ve had such a romantic evening-‘"

“Jesus Christ, hand it over already!” You’re reaching your limit with tolerating his antics, body teeming in some liminal space between annoyance and mortification. You stretch up again to try and pluck the phone only to make contact with nothing. Fucking showoff. He’s still got his blindfold on, and you’re unable to see how his eyes are completely shimmering with mirth and self-satisfaction.

“Aaand, sent! I think she’ll like that. Anyway, go ahead and add your order to the cart. It’s on me- I remembered to bring the JuJutsu High credit card this time!” Gojo carries on casually like he hasn’t just done the equivalent of planting an explosive in your text messages, feeling incredibly proud of himself as he plops the phone back into your open palm. Glaring up at him and his resilient grin, you are entirely uninterested in eating any kind of food right now. He thinks it’s kind of cute how quickly your face turns ruby red.

You stare at your violated device, blinking in disbelief before looking back up at him. “You’re a real motherfucker, you know that?” You challenge, though your voice isn’t as hostile as it should be.

His large hands fly up defensively. “Whoa, who says I don’t go for daughters either?”

He’s maddening. How do his students stand him? Your free palm has never moved so fast to your face. Resolving into your clunky self-assigned seat, your butt collides firmly with cold wood. “You’re right. Who don’t you go for?” You huff.

Gojo chuckles with his whole chest as he moves to sprawl out over the miniature bed, returning to the original position he was in before he hijacked your text conversation. With blindfolded eyes focused back on the hazy television screen, his hands lock behind his head as he shrugs indifferently. “Never been a big fan of Geminis, to be honest.”

Unreal. He could talk to you in circles like this forever, and only because he knows he gets under your skin that way. You resign, eyeing your phone screen and scrolling through the restaurant he picked to order delivery from. He’s got quite the spread in the cart, complete with an elaborate dessert that could’ve wiped out your savings account.

“Clearly a fan of cheesecake though, holy shit.” The jab doesn’t come out as mean as you intend it to, and honestly, you aren’t sure how much longer you’ll be capable of treating him with this much animosity. You’re already tired, and if you were any more awake you’d realize that your work partner was slowly wearing your guard down, quip by cocky quip.

“Right again. Don’t you just love getting to know me through our intimate time together?”

Shoko is spamming you with an endless barrage of confused and shocked emojis, and you’re far too sleep-deprived to reply. Your entire body flushes at his words as they reverberate in your mind. Intimate is not the right word. No, it shouldn’t be, more like invasive. Right?

“Couldn’t be happier,” you reply curtly, mindlessly picking out whichever menu items are at the top before punching in the room number and credit card info, which was smoothly slid onto the table by Gojo without your prior notice. With your back to him, his gratification is on full display as he pretends to watch whatever crappy show is playing. Winning is his favorite thing in the world, and grating on your nerves is a close second- though really, the two coincide. Part of him wonders how much further he can blur that line.

——————————————————————————————————-

The comically large bag of food is immediately torn open by an eager Gojo the second it lands on the hotel room’s table, and he’s forking together a messy array of sides onto his plate before dragging over a lounge chair from the corner next to yours. He’s sitting far too close for your comfort, but you begrudgingly comply. It wasn’t like he was going to go away anytime soon, even though the night would be so much easier that way. As he shovels his dinner into his mouth, your mind aimlessly ventures as to how he keeps his form so trim with an appetite like that. He’s got to have a strict workout regimen somewhere, though “strict” is a word not often associated with him-

“Hey, your food’s gonna get cold if you keep staring like that.”

Your eyes widen in record time. It’s a hideous realization that you’ve zoned out on watching the renowned sorcerer-turned-temporary-roommate inhale his overpriced dinner, all from being overcome with either exhaustion or acceptance of your cramped situation. At this point, it’s maybe a little of both.

“Sorry,” you mumble, not even caring to articulate a more acidic response. It seems you’re beginning to neutralize into Gojo’s presence, and he mentally takes note of your changing chemistry with him as you quietly stab at your steak bites.

He’s got the perfect opportunity to coo something vain back, like “Don’t apologize, I’d stare too if it were me,” but he doesn’t. He simply keeps eating, sparing you with a less than uncomfortable silence. It’s never been the worst thing between you two given your extensive work history, and you feel yourself soften slightly when the bland hotel room’s air isn’t filled with his assumptive commentary for once. As your plates both get emptier, he feels this sudden need to hold your attention, as you’re less likely to be as combative as you’ve been before. You’re... not so set on hating him.

“You tired?”

Gojo’s two-worded inquiry jars you, almost to the point of choking on your bread. It's something genuine. He closes up one of the empty to-go boxes and shoves it into the takeout bag before pulling out the monstrosity that is his slice of cheesecake. For some reason your heart stammers at how refreshing the possibility of a real conversation with him could actually be.

You’ve got the perfect opportunity to snap something defensive back, like “Yeah, of you,” but you don’t. His shiny eyes shift under the fabric of his blindfold to you, almost prompting you to answer.

“…Yeah, I must be making it pretty obvious,” you say, unintentionally yawning and proving his point. If you were any more relaxed with him, he would’ve told you how cute you looked doing that. You secure your leftovers and start to chuck them into the bag before a large hand suddenly stops you with a “gimme” motion.

“Judging by how easily you’re willing to waste that perfectly good food…it’s not hard to tell,” he prods at you with a grin that you would’ve unnerved you earlier, but at this hour it’s a little more welcoming. Is that a snicker that comes out of you? You hand over the half-eaten order of steak bites to his jubilation, and he’s already popping open the lid to pick one up with his fingers.

Curse your brain in its exhausted state, because it’s nearly hypnotized by his digits. They’re long, dextile, confident somehow. They’re slender and defined, yet capable of serious damage- this you know all too well, and that excites you more than it should. The slice of meat dwarfs in his hold, its shiny reddish myoglobin starting to trickle down his hand and wrist, and it decorates his fine veins and tendons there with its sheen…

No, there’s no way you’re jealous of a piece of meat right now. Did you seriously feel a flutter somewhere that you shouldn’t? Satoru Gojo is literally eating your leftovers with his bare, grubby hands, and you’ve made the fatal error of finding it attractive. Yeah, you’re definitely sleeping in the bathtub tonight before your conflicted mind wanders any further.

He munches on the remainder of your dinner before finally digging into the cheesecake, and you feel blessed for the distraction from your shifting thoughts when you two chat about the mission at hand tomorrow. Is he worried about the curses you’ll be dealing with? No, of course not. According to him, he’s only worried about messing up his hair. Oh, and that expensive jacket you were careful not to touch earlier. With that all that added up, maybe he is nervous about it.

When the conversation dies down, the only sound in the unimpressive hotel room is the game show now playing on the practically vintage television. You quietly scroll your phone while your colleague digs into the soft dessert, stopping suddenly to stick his fork out to you.

“Want a bite? And before you say no, I already told you my cooties aren’t contagious.”

Is this real kindness? You whip your head to face him, studying the glob of caramel-drizzled sweetness, and he’s waving the fork around like a magic wand complete with some convincing “whoosh” sound effects. It’s even more comical with the way he fills his seat, almost like he’s sitting in a doll’s chair. The sight beside you makes you stifle a laugh, and in that moment you realize something: while he constantly irritates you, Satoru Gojo is the brightest, liveliest thing in that damn room. It’s not saying much given the plain wallpaper, dull sheets, and dusty furniture, but it all amounts to him looking pretty good despite your surroundings. If you weren’t sober right now, you’d admit that he looks pretty good just about anywhere. He’s so unfitting, literally, in the drab, cramped space that you almost want to let that very laugh out.

“Eh…I don’t believe you, but even if they weren’t... I couldn’t avoid them in this room anyway,” you joke sleepily, reaching for the fork and pushing the bite of cheesecake past your lips. He’s sitting pretty close, near enough that his spicy cologne still dances in your senses, but if he were any closer you’d swear you could spot him watching how your lips attached so tightly around the plastic silverware. You’re trying desperately to avoid the fact that sharing the fork was like indirectly kissing him, because if you think about it long enough it’ll make you blush all over again. So much for keeping a distance between you two.

You realize something else: he might’ve had a point with his dessert selection. “That is pretty good,” you commentate, handing him back the fork. There’s almost a soft expression on his blindfolded face when he wordlessly pushes the rest of the heaping slice between the two of you, as if the sugary dessert could substitute for a peace treaty. This is how all truces should go, you silently decide.

“Here, have some more in case you die tomorrow,” Gojo tuts with a grin, knowing fully well that you’d be perfectly fine during your assignment the next day. He loves to poke at you, but he can also recognize all the hard work you do. Hell, putting up with him was a full-time job, he could admit.

Your mouth flies open to let out a lighthearted “You asshole,” and you reflexively move to smack his shoulder. You’re even more shocked when your palm actually makes contact with the muscle there..as is he.

Gojo had turned his Infinity off. He must’ve gotten so caught up in wanting to break down your guard this evening that he neglected to remember his own.

“No way, I actually landed a hit on the Satoru Gojo,” you beam. Triumphantly taking another bite of the cheesecake, you feel his gaze train on you. His face-chiseled, you have to say- is conveying something unidentifiable. There’s some surprise and some amusement, but there’s another emotion lingering in the slight rise of his light eyebrows and his relaxed jaw. Something deeper, almost longing. It honestly concerns you for a moment, but he’s quick to recover by slumping backward over the chair, clutching a hand where yours landed just seconds before.

“Abuse! How dare you!” He declares, gripping his shoulder in the throes of his dramatics. “Yaga will be hearing about this. I’m reporting you to the higher-ups!”

“Don’t even. I’ll tell them you sabotaged my technology then,” you counter, waving your phone. “Oh, and that you misused company funds.” You point accusingly at the heap of cheesecake between you both. “And then we’ll both get fired.”

His fists hit the table as he falls forward dramatically. “Ugh…But then we’d end up living here,” he sighs woefully, “and that would be the worst part of all.”

You openly crack up at his refreshing honesty, finally recognizing this room for the shithole that it is, and you feel a newfound warmth spread throughout your chest. “Hmmm… But then we could keep ordering this cheesecake.” Maybe you like bantering with him, you decide.

Gojo chuckles as he stands up from his seat, dragging it back to where it resided in the corner and going along with your bit. “Not if we can’t ‘misuse our funds,’ you tattletale. We better start thinking of a side hustle to keep our lifestyle going.”

There’s a certain weight to “we”s and “our”s that make your heart palpitate just the slightest. It’s like a promise of a future together, a future beyond the uninspiring walls you were forced to rest in tonight. Still in your fit of tired giggles, you close up the remainder of the dessert before sticking it in the hotel room’s loud, antiquated mini fridge. The change of pace between you both is almost freeing, allowing you to consider the idea of actually sleeping somewhat soundly tonight.

“Well, you ponder on that. I’m gonna get ready for bed.” You’re quick to tuck into the bathroom as your laughter dies down, taking your bag with you to switch into the pajamas you packed. All the while, you’re secretly wondering what the sleeping situation is going to look like. You know you’re desperate for rest and given how the evening between you two has warmed a little, the idea of sharing the tiny bed with Gojo is…less than awful to you now. You step out, only to gasp when said man is right outside the door. He’s leaning against the frame with his own bag slung over his shoulder, grinning wickedly and looking all too smug

“My turn, princess. Coming through!”

The novel nickname flutters through your system as he squeezes past you, closing the door in your face with another low chuckle. God, he’s an idiot, you think with a smile, opting to perch in the seat he used for dinner until he returns to the room.

You’re playing a mindless game on your phone when you hear the bathroom door squeak closed, and Gojo plops back into the stiff bed. There’s no shirt on his sculpted body, only a baggy pair of black pajama pants whose waistband barely kisses his narrow hips. Humbled is an understatement when you try not to ogle at the sorcerer before you, whose murder you were secretly plotting just hours before. The skin on your face is akin to the Sun’s surface as you summon every ounce of will not to stare, but his Six Eyes promptly detects the sheepish change in your demeanor.

“So, you sharing this thing with me or what?” He looks over at you in the chair as he stretches over the traverse of the mattress, head propped on one hand while the other toys with his blindfold. “Since you don’t seem to care about my cooties anymore.” The repeated movement of those long, deft fingers looping around the fabric is enough to conjure a flashback to him eating those damn steak bites, and you feel hot all over again. It shouldn’t be suggestive, it really shouldn’t, but the way he’s talking makes it seem like he wants you beside him.

You rest your chin in your hand as you reply with a frown, pretending to think, “Hmmm. That’s gonna be a tight fit.” He snorts in response, something devious but expected on the tip of his tongue, and you realize it as soon as you answer. “Don’t even say it, Gojo.”

He feigns surprise, scooting over and patting the pillow beside him. “Pffft. When have I been known to say anything out of pocket?” He can’t deny the thought of fitting tightly somewhere else, his aqua eyes flashing with a desire he’s never allowed himself to feel for a long time. “Listen princess, you’ve only got two choices for tonight, so pick wisely. There’s somewhere tight-“ he pats the pillow again, -“or somewhere wet.” The thumb previously tugging on the fabric around his eyes jabs toward the bathroom door.

There’s that nickname again. “How erotic,” you snicker, wordlessly complying and letting your exhaustion guide the way to the empty side of the bed. It’s not a ton of space, but you’ll do your best to make it work. Carefully, you slide in to avoid touching him, realizing just how difficult that task is going to be in your limited amount of territory. Should you make a pillow border between you two? No, because then that would take up even more precious space. Maybe if you bunched up some of your blanket-

“Alright! Wait till Shoko hears about this!”

Gojo visibly approves of your choice as he watches you timidly sidle in next to him, wearing that stupidly eager grin on his face and whooping like a sports game attendee. Shooting him a playful glare and an “Oh, enough with you, Six Eyes,” you feel the cool sheets hit your skin, and your body erupts in goosebumps through your thin-ish shirt and shorts. You quickly face the opposite way as him, but not before stealing another glance at his ridiculously toned chest and stomach as he reaches to turn the bedside lamp off. God, he smells so good, like minty toothpaste and his cologne. Darkness abruptly envelops you as your heart pounds, and you have a horrible thought: Who said I wouldn’t be wet sleeping here?

You hear Gojo release a barely audible sigh, almost as if he’s tentative to fall asleep beside you too. He’s not sure who to trust less, you or himself, but he hides his apprehension with a couple more quips as you settle into the compact mattress.

“You have any idea how many people would pay to be where you are right now? You are so lucky.”

He could talk in circles with you again for hours if it meant prolonging the inevitable vulnerability that is unconsciousness beside another person- though a deeper part of him reasons there’s nothing to worry about. Maybe there are other things you could do instead of talk, he thinks, doing little to shake the idea away. It’s kind of nice, way more than nice, the image of you all spread out below him-

The eye roll you respond with is felt by him but not seen in the lightless room. Clouded by an atypical hunger and pure fatigue, you murmur back, “Don’t worry, I tip well,” and a smug smile forms on your face. It’s kind of fun getting to poke back at him. That’s all it is, right? Harmless banter. Gojo senses your intentions on a level unbeknownst to you, though- and he’s not entirely upset at them.

“Listen to you! That was smooth. I just might give you a discount for that.” You hear the sheets rustle beside you, and you slowly turn. He’s fully facing you, boyishly propping his head up on his fist with his near-glowing eyes now exposed. You notice that his blindfold has now been placed neatly on the outdated nightstand. He’s keenly tuned in on you, finding your pajamas a little too cute for a pre-mission night of sleep. It’s clearly getting more difficult for him to deny how entertained he is by the sight of you all snuggled in on your diminutive side of the crappy hotel bed.

You pretend to cover your eyes after seeing his finally revealed to you, feeling thoroughly proud of yourself for matching his energy now. “Put those LEDs away, good lord,” you joke, allowing yourself to let out a sleepy laugh as you pull up the covers to give your bumpy skin some salvation. His intentful gaze is already doing plenty to send heat throughout your limbs though, and the act of grabbing the blanket is an effort in vain. As your eyelids flutter with the weight of tiredness, you understand just how close you two are in the moment. Mentally, you were so much farther away earlier in the evening than you are now- and it takes a second for you to process that you actually like the change.

Gojo laughs softly, and you can hear the late hour begin to seep into his tone. It grows more throaty, lower than before, and it’s entirely too pleasant. Part of you wonders if he’d consider the proposition of reading you a bedtime story. There’s a lingering tension in the air, nearly tangible, and it shifts when you note how his eyes flicker all over your face. Eyes, lips, back to eyes, back to lips.

“Maybe I wanna look at you a little longer. Are you gonna report me to the higher-ups for that, too?” Gojo bats his icy white lashes, his oaky scent further settling into the sheets. The only light in the shoddy room comes from his vibrant irises, and they’re spotlighting on you with piqued interest. The light has always come from him, and it’s an epiphany that has you scooting an inch closer.

“If those things blind me, I will.” You exhale through your nose, partially wishing you could reach out to the heat that radiates off his halfway bare body.

He blinks, and you swear the room flashes dark again for that split second. “Well, y’know, that might be a good thing,” he tries to reason lightheartedly, in a volume just above a whisper. “You wouldn’t have to look at this ugly room anymore.” You watch his hand- the same one you nearly salivated over earlier- land in the limited space between you two, almost as if it wants to cross that border. It takes the most willpower you’ve ever needed not to stare at it, feeling your face flush with a sick anticipation. “I’d be saving you.” Maybe it’s what he’s always wanted to do all along, you both think, and it encourages you to be just as coy back.

In this moment, you feel bold enough to say something you thought would never leave your mouth: “But then I wouldn’t get to look at all six foot three of you.” You pout sarcastically, and Gojo gets the urge to kiss it right off your face. His grin is proud; it’s everything he never knew he wanted to hear.

Your teasing is like a silent permission for his hand to move closer to you, and your entire body stills when you feel it land gently on your lower thigh to play with the frilled hem of your shorts. Must be a pattern of his, you realize. He chuckles, and the sound is so low that you can practically feel it.

“Hmm… You’re right. Again.” Your work partner’s head tilts down slightly at you, and his expression is overcome with what can only be described as relief. “Guess I need to save you some other way.” He notices the goosebumps adorning your figure, and suddenly you’re pressed up against his broad chest. God, he’s so warm, you don’t even realize the way you’re curling right up into him. Somehow, despite your height difference, you fit perfectly along his lanky frame.

“Better?”

You are tired, fatigued beyond belief, but you’d be stupid not to stay awake to experience Satoru Gojo letting his guard down for you. Perhaps this dismal hotel room was a test of will for you two, and while you’re not entirely sure what denotes passing or failing, you do know one thing: Satoru Gojo is unbelievably comfortable to cuddle with.

Still…you wonder what would unfold if you pushed further.

“Hmmm… still not warm enough.” The words leave you before you can tame them, and the unspoken invitation behind them makes his eyebrows raise. The hand playing with the fabric of your shorts squeezes into your skin just the slightest, prompting you to look up at him where you see no reserves on his handsome (God, it’s good to admit that) face. His soft pink lips hover inches from your own, drawing closer like magnets.

“Really.” You feel a thumb rub slow circles along your outer thigh. “I can fix that for you, yeah?” His words shoot straight to your core as his head ducks a little lower, just breaths away from yours.

Well, you’re definitely not tired anymore.

“If you’re still offering that discount…” you breathe out. A rush of smugness allows you to bring your hands to his toned chest, traveling up to trace his defined collarbone. His skin is soft, almost velvety, most likely from years of keeping his perimeter so trained to avoid any unnecessary contact, and the act of smoothing your fingers over it becomes soothing.

Gojo’s lopsided grin conveys the desire he’s suppressed for so long, seemingly caught up in this new dynamic with you. “Nah, we’ll put it on the credit card,” he finally laughs before confidently pressing his lips to yours.

He is an entirely new taste, and you’re not able to reference his movements to anything or anyone; it’s another level of tact and precision. Did he plan this? His kisses are the perfect mix of messy and firm, and it’s clear he’s doing all but holding back. Something unlocks as he goes through the motions, maybe the realization of the snapped tension or maybe the feeling of you kissing back just as passionately, and his mouth soon scatters everywhere from your lips to your jaw to your neck in a flurry of teeth and tongue. He’s somehow magically in tune with your most sensitive areas of the exposed skin as his lips wander, leaving you to grab his firm bicep and cling as if he’s grounding you to the earth. The details of the dingy hotel room are completely abandoned as you feel your senses envelop, finally, with all that is Satoru Gojo, and there was truly no beauty greater than that.

Chest heaving, you almost let out a laugh at how rapidly the night has shifted. His well-trained hands travel, one squeezing the tissue of your breast over your thin shirt while the other dances just below the leg of your shorts. With all walls down, it’s pointless to hide the effect his touch has on you. If his hand moved any higher, he’d discover how wet you were- part of you dreaded how inflated his ego would become after that, but the other, hungrier part of you needed him to do it.

“Anyone ever told you-“ Gojo breathes out between his attack, brushing a thumb over your hardened nipple, “how pretty you are?” He is all too focused on drinking in your features, finding your weakest and favorite points. Your back arches ridiculously easily into his touch as you struggle to find the words to answer him.

“N-no one else that’s mattered.”

You’re sure his ego will balloon rapidly upon that little admission, but you partly didn’t care- not when he was capable of making you feel so unbelievably good.

He’s rightfully amused at how blatant your desire is now. “Oh? So I do matter to you then.” His other hand roams up your thigh, threatening to reach where you wanted it most. You snicker before a shudder erupts from you when a long, hot stripe is licked down your neck and over your shoulder, and it’s all you need to swing your leg over his, straddling him on the stiff, narrow mattress. The flex of his abs as he sits up to accommodate you is nothing short of poetic, and you find more prose in the clouded, desperate fog of his azure eyes when he watches you with curiosity. He immediately rests his grip on your waist, pressing you down gently onto what can only be described as a monster underneath his sweats. You understand now why he carries himself the way that he does: He’s fucking huge.

You push your chest against his, unable to stop the twitch of your hips when you feel Gojo’s hardness brush against your heat. The wetness of your arousal is sure to be felt through the fabric, and he’d be silly to halt your admittedly cute display of attempts in chasing just an ounce of pleasure. Your flushed face, furrowed eyebrows, small noises, it’s motion picture to him. However, he selfishly wants to be that pleasure for you, and he’s quick to slide a hand down your body to cup your pussy through your pajamas.

Your jaw goes slack as Gojo’s hand makes contact with your most sensitive area over your shorts, and the circles he rubs help him collect some of the condensation from the fabric. It feels good, but not good enough, and you can’t help but huff at the restricted movement. He is all too cocky when his hand pulls away, eyeing it with an intense mirth.

“Damn, waterworks, you always get this wet?” He’s half-amazed and half-amused as he studies his glistening fingers, his other hand gripping at your ass. “That’s so hot.”

“Shut up, Satoru.” You smack his bare shoulder before burying your face into it, feeling your cheeks turn crimson. He chuckles, finding you adorable when you’re embarrassed yet hating that you feel that way. He knows just how to help you get over that, and he starts by slowly sliding his body down, holding your thighs spread as he maneuvers his head onto the flat-ish pillow. You glare down confusedly at him in his newfound position, only to meet with eager cerulean eyes that are practically begging to pull you closer.

“Fine then, I’ve got other stuff I wanna do with my mouth anyway,” you hear him murmur from between your thighs, and his hand brushes over your clothed, throbbing cunt again. “Now sit, princess.”

“Huh? No, you won’t be able to breathe, I can’t.” Your head shakes vigorously in disapproval. Not that you didn’t want them there, but there was no way… you’d probably end up suffocating the guy, and while you had a more murderous urge to do that earlier this evening you’d much rather-

“Fine with me, now lemme taste you,” Gojo insists with almost a whine in his tone, not letting you respond before pulling the soaked crotch of your shorts to the side and licking a long, forceful line from your hole to your clit. You moan when he does it again, and again, feeling your knees weaken to finally sink yourself onto his mouth. The groan that vibrates against your nerve endings makes you look down, only to see his frosty white lashes flutter as you fill his senses. This was well worth the hours of wearing down your resolve this evening.

His movements become frantic, desperate to experience you now that he’s let his guard down this long with no dire consequences. You feel his tongue lap at your sensitive clit, and his lips kiss in your heat so loudly and wetly that it sounds like a porn scene. Your hands fly to his ivory hair, gripping till his scalp stings. This makes him groan again, and you can barely control the way your hips start to rock along his mouth.

Gojo breaks away for a split second, tongue dragging along your inner thigh with his cock nearly in pain because of he’s got you where he wants you. “Just like that, baby, ride my face,” he huffs quickly before returning to flattening his tongue along your clit. You feel him squeeze the cheeks of your ass, forcing you onto the hot muscle and encouraging you to continue.

He seems to be breathing just fine, you realize- which of course he is, he’s Satoru fucking Gojo- he could handle just about anything. It gives you the confidence to rut your hips forward, moaning louder when his lips wrap around your overstimulated nerve and suck hard. You earn a playful smack on your ass when his name slips out of your mouth, and the stinging sends you further into your frenzy for pleasure as you start to build up a pace. It’s addicting, really, the way he’s lapping and sucking at your aching cunt like it’s his favorite dessert, and you’re suddenly thankful that he has the appetite that he does. He breaks away for a second to spit into your heat, spreading your slick folds wide with those deft fingers of his, and that only has you rocking harder along his mouth when he reattaches himself. To him, you are so much better than any sweet he’s had.

You don’t even realize you’re doing it, but you’re tugging Gojo’s snowy tresses in shallow efforts to further bury his face in your cunt as you ride it, and he’s all too happy that you’re using him in this way. As his tongue prods up into your tight entrance, he feels his cock throb again at the prospect of how it would feel inside of you. He groans at the thought, and you feel it all the way up in your ribcage. He’s already picked up on the fact that you’re close, judging by how your frantic movements have sped up and the way you’re babbling incoherent praises that only make him ache more.

“Fuck, Satoru, feels so- good- please…”

When Gojo lets out a little laugh at that, you feel your slick dribble messily down your thighs. That hot, blinding pressure grows stronger under your navel when you grind harder on his tongue, threatening to spill over when he starts to flick it along your clit to match your pace. It all feels so deliciously good that you pay no mind to his nails digging into your flesh, his own way of ensuring he’s leaving a mark- as if he hasn’t decorated your neck in shades of blotchy fuchsia already.

“I’m-so-close….”

He gives your ass another smack with your breathy cry, looking up at you with eyes that nearly beam. You look down while your hips continue to drag along his tongue, finding him just so damn pretty while he’s eating you so good, and you ease your fingers in his hair. That impending sensation grows stronger, and he quickly parts from your lips to murmur confidently:

“I know, princess, I got you. Lemme have it.”

His choice of words and the way he immediately goes back to lapping at your heat are both more than enough to have you coming apart around his tongue in mere seconds. There is nothing in your mind’s eye but Gojo as your high overtakes you, fizzling through your being and prompting you to cry out his name as if it’s a chant. He soaks it all in, helping you ride out your release before slowing to kiss his way back up your body. You’ve never come that hard- and somehow, he senses this too. Your legs feel like jelly when he’s finally face-to-face with you, and his is glistening with your arousal. If he wasn’t desperate to be inside of you right now he could do that for hours, he thinks.

You lean in, capturing your lips with Gojo’s and wrapping your arms around his neck to kiss him deeply. Your own taste on your lips does little to dissuade you from him, and for the next few moments, you both feverishly rip off whatever clothing is still unfortunately on your bodies. He, as gracefully as he can given the annoyingly small hotel bed, maneuvers you onto the pillow so you’re lying on your back, and you feel his heavy cock hit your stomach. He pauses for a second to study your features, finding that every inch of you is worth burning to memory. You’re stunning like this, all sticky and flushed and needy, and it’s all because of his efforts. He’s only more gratified when your mouth flies open at his impressive size.

“You're kidding. That's not gonna fit,” You sputter, still in your post-orgasm daze, but you feel your hole clench around nothing when you notice the filmy drops of pre beading around his thick tip.

His laugh is genuine, almost melodic as he pumps himself a few times. “Such a downer. We’ll make it fit, ‘kay?” Gojo promises with a goofy grin, letting his hand wander along your bare nipples and stomach before eventually revisiting your now sore cunt. You hiss in delight when he slides one of his long fingers in, and your legs spread automatically at the intrusion. Even in the most cramped bed ever, you’d realize you’d make room for him anywhere. You reach out, dragging your hand along his chiseled stomach, nearly in awe at how firm the muscles are there. He’s like if art was living, breathing, unrestricted from a canvas or frame.

Your hand slides further, silently encouraging his own to move so you can take over stroking his hardened cock as his finger curls along your hot walls. You moan quietly, watching his breath hitch in his broad chest- he’s not sure whether to watch your face or your movements, and there’s an eagerness within him that amplifies when he sees how tightly you’re sucking in just a digit of his. His hips jut forward slightly when your thumb brushes his sensitive tip, and he finally decides to look into your eyes. You stare back, wanting to say so much about how his are the perfect shade of blue.

“Y’know why I harass you so much?” He asks in a tone that reaches a new level of softness for him, and you entertain his question as he slowly introduces a second finger. The stretch is delicious, though you think it’s doing little to prep for the monstrosity that awaits you.

“‘Cause you’re Satoru Gojo?” You reply before letting out a hiss at a particularly sensitive spot he hits within you.

He snorts. “Well, yeah, and ‘cause I think you’re pretty. Inside and out. Gorgeous, actually.”

You blush a little at how he turns a silly banter into a very real confession, and you watch his eyelids flutter again. Actually, you feel kind of bad for being so lighthearted while he was being serious- that was his thing, anyway. Times like these were what made his bluntness endearing, and he continues, beginning to align his length with your dripping entrance after slowly removing his fingers.

“So, lemme prove it.”

Feeling all kinds of giddy you nod, angling your thighs so his hips can fit between them. His spongy tip drags through your slick folds, and it’s the most you’ve ever felt another person focus so directly on you. You look up at him, bringing your hands up his stomach and to his defined shoulders as his tip sinks into you just the slightest.

“Well, you’re pretty too, like otherworldly handsome,” you admit back with a timid smile, clearly trying to regain your breath. “Just couldn’t tell you ‘cause you were too busy harassing me.” You exhale when he submerges himself a little more, and he smiles back with his pearly white teeth. “You’re fucking huge, too… oh my god…” you add, moaning a little at how his cock feels nothing like his fingers. You hate to admit it, but it’s clear he’s set to wreck you.

“Naturally.” He’s using every ounce of strength to control himself from pounding into you, responding to your praise and your criticism all at once. Gojo slowly and gently pushes in until his hips are flush with yours, and it feels as if he’s tearing you from the inside. Your face is scrunched at the intrusion, and he has to cover his own mouth to stop a moan at how tight you feel. There’s no other convincing needed by him that your pussy was practically made for him, he thinks, and he studies your features for any indication of stopping.

“Look at you,” he coos, nearly mesmerized by how your cunt has already swallowed him whole. His hand slides down his face to tweak at one of your hardened nipples. “And you said I wouldn’t fit. Takin’ it like a pro, princess.” His lighthearted motivation makes you snicker a little, and it eases some of the stinging from the stretch he’s causing. He gives you a few shallow thrusts, and his eyes practically roll to the back of his head when your hot walls grip around him. It takes a few moments for you to adjust to his size, and when finally you do, you give him the silent go-ahead by softening your expression. His grin could blind a room full of people when he thrusts deeper, not only reaching that same sensitive spot but finding another, and it makes your head loll back to the pillow.

That reminds him. He pauses for a second to slide one of the cheap hotel pillows under your tailbone, and suddenly his cock feels like it’s colliding with your guts when he continues his movements. Your mouth couldn’t fall any more open as he starts to establish a pace, filling you so masterfully yet harshly with every stroke.

“Sa-to-ru…” you pant, digging your nails into Gojo’s sculpted back, and this only motivates him more. You have a realization that could either be horrible or amazing: How could you ever fuck anyone else again? Again and again he’s thrusting into that magical spot till the sounds of your wetness fill the otherwise lackluster room, spoiling you for any other and reassuring you that yes, he really is the strongest. Part of him knows how skilled he is, and he has to refrain from laughing- no one would ever be enough once he was done with you. Then again, he never wants to be done with you.

You feel his tactful hands roam your body aimlessly, a visible sign of his enrapture with how you receive him. He wants to focus on watching his cock slam into your cunt over and over, but he also wants to watch your face as you writhe and cry out his name- he’s clearly conflicted.

The little breathy noises slipping out of him aren’t helping your cause, and the way he abruptly throws one of your legs over his broad shoulder doesn’t either. He’s now rutting into your tight heat relentlessly, a stark contrast from how delicately he’s kissing up the thigh that’s pressed into his chest.

“Your pussy is...perfect,” you hear Gojo groan, drawing the words out, and his kisses along your thigh become animalistic as they turn into bites. You whimper, back arching with all the sensations filling your system, and that heady feeling in your tummy begins to strengthen again. “Wanna-fuck you- forever…”

“Please,” you agree as your ability to form sentences leaves you. “Don’t ever- stop…”

In a perfect world, he wouldn’t. As one hand holds your thigh to his chest and the other travels to your overstimulated clit, his shiny blue eyes watch your contorting face, smiling proudly when you moan at how his fingers rub tight circles along your nerves. He can feel his release approaching alongside yours, and your slick walls flutter around his cock as he pummels into you.

“Want another one, princess,” Gojo pants, making your skin smack against his as your orgasm builds up in your tummy. “Go on, come on- my cock…”

His wish is your command. You quickly lean forward, mashing your lips with his when the pleasure fizzles out of you all over again. You feel the tips of your toes burn at how powerfully your release hits you, wracking your body with an almost overwhelming amount of pleasure. You’re reduced to a heaving, shaking mess, convulsing around his length and left only able to babble his name against his mouth in your state of bliss. His hand cradles the back of your head as he fucks you through the aftershock and kisses you roughly, only to follow close behind just moments later. His movements falter before your name falls from his lips, and his hips stutter as you feel yourself start to fill with his thick seed.

Holy shit. Who would’ve guessed that this was how your evening would turn out? Just mere hours ago you wanted to claw at his throat, and instead you clawed at his back because of how good he was dicking you down. Your mind swims as Gojo slowly withdraws, slipping out of your sore cunt to collapse beside you in what little space the hotel bed offered. He’s even gorgeous like this, maybe more than ever actually. You’re observing how his ivory hair sticks to his forehead and his back glistens with the thinnest layer of sweat from his efforts, the muscles there decorated with thin red indents from your nails. It’s a sight worth recreating an infinite number of times.

Not having him envelop all your senses anymore forces you back into reality, where a mission lies just hours ahead of you and your shared hotel room isn’t any prettier. And unbelievably, those things don’t even matter anymore. All you can perceive and recognize in your afterglow is Satoru Gojo, who is already regaining his breath while you lie there like a fucked-out mess. Beautiful.

Gojo turns to face you, watching your chest rise and fall as you regulate yourself, and his delighted grin is all too perfect for someone who just obliterated you.

“So…you warm enough now?”

Your sticky body shifts to face him, vibrating with laughter as you answer “For now, yes…” and your head hits the pillow exhaustedly. That’s right- you were already tired before this “development” even happened.

His whole being is pure elation as he languidly drapes an arm over your bare figure. “Does that mean we get to do that again? I think she really likes me.” His hand brushes over your abused cunt, and your body flares at his touch yet again. It was a sick epiphany that he could destroy you and you’d still want more.

You snicker. “Yes, but she is super sore right now.” The sleepiness from earlier seeps into your brain, and you find yourself curling back into his lanky frame. He accepts you openly, resting a hand on your ass as he scoops you closer.

“I can kiss her better,” he pipes up quietly, already thinking of all the ways he could keep touching you. Even though you feel that droning buzz of want again, you tiredly shake your head, regretfully reminding him “Noooo, we’ve gotta get up in a few hours. Maybe after our mission.” You swear his eyes desaturate a shade before he sighs.

“Yeah yeah yeah. You’re gonna be tired and sore anyway.”

“Oh, and you’re not?”

“Nah.” Gojo moves to press a fresh batch of kisses all over your neck, and you shudder. He did have a point- you were already planning on shotgunning whatever energy drinks were in the dingy hotel lobby’s vending machine in the morning, as if they even had one. “I could go all night if you wanted, princess. Give you more of my cooties.”

You laugh freely, realizing he probably wasn’t exaggerating. It’s quite the offer from the one who just wrecked you so good- and you’d be silly to refuse despite your tiredness. You feeling your limbs tangle into each other’s, returning thoughts of the hazardous hotel drifting away once more, and your arousal slowly revisits you. What an incredible way to forget about your surroundings. You tug playfully on his icy tresses, you decide that this might be your new favorite kind of exhaustion. “As long as you don’t share your cooties with anyone else.”

Snickering, Gojo keenly zeroes on spreading your aching legs so he can see the aftermath from earlier, and he’s hardening again at the sight of his thick cum barely trickling out onto your thighs. With a mischievous smile, he assures you, “Never. This is just too pretty. Plus, you said you were gonna tip well.”

His hands trace you, and there’s not a more discernible indicator of your new bond with him than when you look down at his length, answering him in a familiarly cheeky tone, “Well, you already did.” He laughs, the warmest he's ever allowed himself, and it's certain he's keeping his promise.

Turns out, Shoko was right about him.

#jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #jjk smut #jjk gojo #gojou satoru x reader #gojo smut #gojou x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x you #mdni #jjk #jjk x you #satoru gojo

[ackerpretty]

Pervert Armin x black reader

MDNI & AGELESS BLOGS

Warnings: uhh EXTREME horniness and no self respect?

A/N: Y’all.. I barley proofread my shit so in sorry if there’s 500 typos and I just came outta writers retirement so I ask that y’all cut me some SLACK😭I’m done yapping now

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Armin knew he was going to be obsessed with you since the day you walked into the classroom. With your pretty brown gloss-covered lips and braids hanging hanging down to your ass. Your vanilla scent made all of the blood rush to his head…and dick. He had to have you all to himself. He wanted to take you back to him dorm and keep you there as his little pet. No one else would be able to see you on your knees like a puppy, tongue hanging out of your mouth and waiting for his next command. Maybe he’d tie you to his bed and stuff his shirt in your mouth so the whole residence hall won’t hear your screams (not that he’d care) . He was interrupted by his pervert thoughts when you approached him. “You Armin? I think were partners” of course y’all were partners. Armin made sure of that by rigging the professor’s spreadsheet. No, he simply refused to work with someone other than his pretty future wife. He talking bout some “Yeah! Let’s work at my dorm” knowing damn well y’all won’t be doing shit. He won’t make his princess do any work, he can bullshit this easy ass project as long as he can buy his face in your pussy for hours.

After 3 project sessions he had you wrapped around his finger….Literally. His two long slender fingers curled up into your pussy and tongue lapping up your brown-pinkish folds simultaneously.“Armin slow down please….I can’t” Amin simply ignored your ass, even flicking his tongue and a faster rate your sucking your clit until it was attached to his mouth. “just need to make you mine….wanna make my girl feel good” Your back arched off the bed as yours thighs shook around Armin’s head. Just when you were sure that you was finna squirt all over his, Armin stopped and flipped you over. “Want you to cum with my dick” This was the main event that Armin had fantasized. He opened up the little draw next to his bed and grabbed a baby blue ribbon to tie your hands behind your back with, and some vanilla coconut oil, your signature scent. That boy could not wait to oil up that ass, all for him. He slowly rubbed his hands all over your smooth brown skin, down to the back of your thighs. Armin squirts some oil of his hand, stroking his already hard dick. Without warning he slides into your pussy, almost nutting immediately after feeling your warmness. The small dorm was filled with sounds of your muffled moans and slapping sounds from Armin’s thighs against yours. “S’ the only dick you’ll ever need” He sneers through his teeth as his pace quickens and his grip on your hips create indents in your skin. Armin watched your arms struggle against the ribbon restraints and he took this opportunity to grab your arms and hold them behind your back while he fucked into your pussy.

Your breathing was becoming ragged and your walls began to spasm and clench around his dick. “Min im about to cum..ughh shit” He suddenly slows down his pace, making you whimper from the lack of speed. He grabs you by the throat, giving it a light squeeze. “Say you love me first…tell me your gonna be a good bitch for me” Your eyes are rolling into the back of your head and your mouth is hanging open, and that brain is struggling to put one word together. “Say it or you get nothing” he slowly starts fucking into you faster, hand still wrapped around your throat, trying to make you break “Love you min..m’ur bitch” Your whole body begins to shake as you cream all over his dick . When you’re done he pulled out made sure to cum all over your face, globs of white sticking to your cheeks, nose, and forehead. “my good girl, baby” he says as his fingers stroked your cum covered face. After y’all get all cleaned up, he gently placed you in his bed where you knocked out as soon as your head hit the pillow. Armin couldn’t help but to admire your unconscious body, sleeping peacefully on his side of the bed. Yeah, you ain’t ever leaving his room.

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#aot smut #armin x black reader #armin smut #armin arlet smut #armin arlet x reader #attack on titan smut #armin x reader #aot x reader #aot x black y/n #aot x black reader #attack on titan x black reader #attack on titan x female reader #eren x black reader #eren smut #levi x black reader #levi smut

[angelltheninth]

Having Miguel O'Hara as Your Bodyguard

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, kissing, secret relationship, missions, training, showing off, flirting, teasing, sort of enemies to lovers, bodyguard!Miguel

A/N: This AU has been on my mind for a while. Having Miguel always looming over you is the dream.

Bodyguard!Miguel who finds you so fucking annoying to deal with. In his mind you're just another rich daddy's girl who needs to be watched and pampered all the time and he hates it. He hates that he is the one stuck with this role but at the same time he also can't turn the job down cause of the money its paying.

Bodyguard!Miguel who at least tries to have some fun with this job by teasing. It's not his fault you make it so damn easy for him every time he comes near you. It's hard for him not to notice the way your eyes glue onto his forearms when he rolls the sleeves past his elbows, or how you grab onto his bicep in a crowded space. So annoying that he finds those traits cute.

Bodyguard!Miguel who gives you his phone number to call him in case of emergency. At least that's what it was for at first. But as your relationship deepened it became a way for the two of you to exchange flirty texts, calls and good mornings and nights without having to worry about someone spying on you.

Bodyguard!Miguel who wants to show you ways of defending yourself in case of danger. He will of course do everything he can to ensure your safety but some self-defense skills can't hurt. Now because you're on the smaller side, at least compared to him he will have you practice on him. If you can learn how to take down a man his size you shouldn't have problem with those shorter or less muscular.

Bodyguard!Miguel who takes his work very seriously despite the two of you not getting along in the beginning. It also didn't help that you seemed to think he was the biggest jerk in the world. He would pull you by the wrist to get you out of dangerous situations or to hide you in alleyways and you'd always find yourself both angry and flustered when you felt his body pressing against yours and his breath tickling your ear.

Bodyguard!Miguel who was the first person to dance with you at any party or event. Always kept himself really close to no matter what the song was and his hands always held you so possessively, eyes almost never stopping his survey of the surroundings. This wasn't just to make sure there were no threats around but also to let anyone who might be interested to back off.

Bodyguard!Miguel who is very surprised when you make the first move and pull him into a kiss by his tie. Ha, he knew it would come in handy some day. You got a lot more guts then he gave you credit for don't you? Or maybe you're just not the innocent princess he thought you were. Is a kiss all you want from your bodyguard or is there more? He won't tell on you.

Bodyguard!Miguel who tries to remain as professional as he can when he needs to be in the room with you as you change. Of course you're changing in the bathroom, he's just in your room for safety but damn, when you come out wearing that perfect dress he can hardly think about the mission or his role as your bodyguard anymore. All he wants is to grab and kiss you and hug you and tell you he loves you.

Bodyguard!Miguel who can only forget his role when the two of you are all alone in your bedroom. He shouldn't be doing this with you, he knows that much but he can't help but be effected when you pull his gloves off with your teeth and put his hands on your bare skin. You're so soft and cute, you're driving him insane and he can't help but stay the night.

Bodyguard!Miguel who poses for you as he's getting ready in the morning. It's not all for you, he also likes keeping track of his progress when it comes to his muscle gain. But knowing that you're watching him with so much love and hunger sure is a boost to his ego and his amusement. Thank god he took this job when your father offered it.

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x you #miguel x reader #atsv miguel #spiderman #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderverse x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse #spiderman into the spiderverse #into the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #marvel headcanons #marvel x you #marvel x female reader #drabble #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel fluff #spiderverse fluff #marvel fluff

[moralesmilesanhour]

teamwork (makes the dream work...?) pt. 2

summary: miles is not exactly a productive work partner

wc: ~800

A/N: not much plot movement here, but a tiny bit of exposition sort of. Miles will calm down in the following chapters...maybe 🥴

prev. next

"Oh Miles? He's in some of my AP classes. Honor student," Your friend's voice filtered through your phone speakers while on the FaceTime call. She popped a potato chip in her mouth as she sat in bed and sniffled, at home with a nasty cold.

"I've heard his name before. I think his dad died, that true?"

"Yeah, a couple years ago. Say he used to be really sweet, and now he don't talk no more."

"That's sad," you remark. "Maybe that's why I'm only seeing him now."

"You actually saw him in class?!?"

Your friend's face was the picture of disbelief, eyes wide as saucers as if this was a rare event.

"Yeah, he's my partner for the week cuz you decided to go and get yo ass sick!" you explained, dramatically jabbing a finger at your phone screen.

"It's not my fault that kid from AP Chem sneezed on me, damn!"

"He's really smart, but his attitude fucking sucks. He draws good, though," you think out loud.

“It’s just a week, sis, give it four more days, you’ll be fine.”

“You’d better hope so, for your sake.”

-

The following afternoon saw you asking around, trying to piece together a picture of this kid that everyone simultaneously knew and didn’t know. By the time lunchtime ended and Ms. Jones’ calculus class rolled around, you had heard the following:

‘Almost flunked out of school…on purpose’.

‘Did graffiti on the school walls once.’

‘Freakishly quiet’.

‘Secretly joined a gang’.

That last bit made your stomach turn a little as you approached your new temporary seat. Sure enough, Miles was already slouched at his desk, twirling that same pen between his fingers like a drumstick. You didn’t bother to say ‘hi’ this time. He didn’t bother to look up, either.

Miles didn’t say a word during the lecture portion of class, not even to answer questions. Would explain why you’d hardly noticed him until this week.

As the heavy-set math teacher scanned the classroom, she frequently craned her neck and made brief eye contact with Miles, but never cold-called him.

Her skin was a chestnut shade, and she kept her dark hair pinned back in a tight, slick bun. The way she pressed her lips together as she moved on suggested that they’d been through this before, and she'd be sorely disappointed.

When her lecture ended, Miles suddenly stood to his full height.

You weren’t able to tell by the way he sat, but the boy was quite lanky. Even with his awkwardly-broad shoulders slumped, he likely was a half a head taller than you. Ms. Jones stopped her slow pacing around the classroom and sighed.

“Miles, sweetie, what did I say yesterday?”

Miles looked up at the ceiling and sighed in exasperation before plopping back down into his chair. He raised his hand as if it pained him to do so.

“Yes, Mr. Morales?”

“May I please use the restroom?”

A few snickers could be heard erupting around the classroom, and the woman rolled her eyes. An innocent smile was plastered over Miles’ face, revealing two deep dimples in his cheeks. If the smile had actually reached his eyes, you would’ve thought he was cute.

“Go ahead,” Jones relented.

The boy dropped the smile and noisily pushed his chair aside; As he shot back up from his seat and strolled past your desk towards the door, Jones narrowed her eyes at him.

“Hold it. Sir, where are your glasses?”

Miles stopped in his tracks, groaning loudly.

“Oh my god, I don’t need glasses to go potty, Ms. Jones. I can aim, I promise.”

“Make sure you put them on as soon as you get back, your mother told me to remind you. Go,” Jones said, waving her hand dismissively.

“Uh-huh, thank you, ma’am!” The boy was already in the hallway, letting the door slam behind him.

Today's partner work was just a packet of long equations to simplify, so you were only mildly irritated that Miles never seemed to return from his impromptu bathroom trip until the last fifteen minutes of class.

You looked up as he sauntered over to his desk, hands in his pockets.

“Where were you? Class is almost over,” you demanded.

Miles ignored you and sat down, picking up his pen to work at a long string of equations at lightning speed.

Suddenly, you reached over and snapped your fingers in front of him. The boy looked up with his lips curled into a grimace.

"What's good witchu? You got through the work, didn't you?" Miles hissed in a low whisper to avoid catching Ms. Jones' attention.

You frowned deeply. "And what if I didn't? I'd be struggling while you were off running around the damn school-"

"I needed time to myself," he interrupted. "To think."

" 'Think' about what?"

"Personal shit," Miles resumed his problem-solving. "Any more questions, officer?"

The school bell rang, pulling from you a sigh of relief that you wouldn't have to see him again for another 24 hours.

#miles morales #earth 42 miles morales #earth 42 miles morales x reader #miles morales x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse #moralesanhour

[norrisleclercf1]

Whip ‘Em Out

Pairing: Charles x Reader

Rating: M

Warnings: Smut, flashing, slight hand collar, Dom!Charles to Soft!Dom Charles, p in v, oral (male receiving), soft sex, slight fighting in the beginning

Requested: Yes/No

Request: Could you maybe write a blurb for Charles . Just like the trend on tiktok, that you are having a argument with your boyfriend and during the argument you are flashing him with your tits?

A/N: Alright this was going to go completely different and I got really carried away with this request. It was going to be a quick and funny little thing but yeahhhhh. Anyways it wasn’t originally going to be soft sex but I’m in my feels today. So enjoy ☺️

It's a stupid argument. That's the only reason you thought about doing it. I mean, seriously, Charles was tired and had a little jet lag, and yes, he did ask to pick up his dry cleaning, but he was blowing it up.

"I asked one thing, baby, please pick up my dry cleaning instead. You didn't. Now I have nothing to wear to this damn gala event." Charles groans, storming down the hall to his closest.

You roll your eyes at your dramatic boyfriend as you watch the TikTok of the girl flashing her boyfriend mid-argument. You smirk, knowing damn well this would drive him crazy, but you just had to pick the perfect moment to do it.

His feet echo down the hall as he storms back to you. "I mean, what the hell am I supposed to wear, hm? Couldn't you have just done this one thing, love?" He asks, rubbing the exhausted look off his face, and later you might feel bad, but right now, you just wanted your boyfriend.

"Charles." You say his name making him look up and freeze as you lift up your shirt, well his shirt, and flash him.

You giggle, pull your shirt down, and walk over, pecking his lips that formed a perfect O. "Sorry, I hope that makes up for it." You whisper and head down to your shared bedroom to pick out his outfit for the night so he can leave on time.

Charles stands in the living room before chuckling and slowly walks to the bedroom. Your back is to him as he contemplates exactly what to do with you, especially after that little stunt you just pulled.

Slowly he moves and wraps his hand around your throat, careful not to hurt you. You gasp and pull away from him, but Charles pulls you right back into his chest, and you groan, feeling the stunt's effect on him.

"Char." You moan slightly, mind becoming fuzzy from his body against yours and how his hand is possessively wrapped around your throat.

"You think you can show me your gorgeous tits and then walk away without consequences?" Charles whispers, his grip tightening slightly in your ear, just enough to give you pleasure but not cause harm.

"Just didn't want to keep fighting Char. I'm sorry." You whine, giving your best puppy dog eyes, making Charles almost cave.

"Nah, uh." He grumbles and moves you to the bed, laying you down, making you giggle as Charles stares at you.

He always stares at you before he fucked you senseless. It was a moment that reminded you how much Charles really loved you and how sweet he could be before making you unable to move for the rest of the day.

Charles leans down before lifting your shirt and pulling it over your head, your view gets blocked, but you flinch, feeling warm, feather-like kisses on your collarbone. You shiver when his groan hits your skin as he locks eyes with your chest admiring it.

Charles is a tits man, and fuck did he love yours.

Your spine dances when his rough, calloused hand grabs a handful and tugs gently. His fingers twisted your nipple slightly before sucking it into his mouth. He loved how it felt against his tongue, how your chest heaved, and whimpers fell from your mouth when he sucked you.

"Char." You whine, lifting your hips to feel pressure to dull the ache between them.

He licks your nipple as he lets go of it, his other hand pulling and teasing the other. "Patience." He whispers as he pulls you into him.

A soft moan passes your lips, feeling how much Charles wants you between your legs. You never knew why, but leading up to sex with him always got you closer to your orgasm than anything. He used everything about your body against you, turning you into a pathetic whimpering mess

"Stop, or I won't make it much longer." Charles groans in your chest, and that's when you realize you've been practically humping him.

You know your hips, but whine feeling him twitch. It was becoming painful now, wanting nothing more than to have him in you; Charles was determined to make you drunk on him. Even if that meant Turing your chest into a gallery of his teeth and tongue.

Charles moves so you sit on top of him even though he is sitting up. Your chest was at eye level with his face; he loved you in this position. Nothing got him to come faster than watching you bounce and whine on him, your face filled with ecstasy.

"Please, Charles, please wanna feel you." You whisper as your boyfriend's hands slide down your waist and legs, pulling your shorts and underwear off in one failed swoop.

"I will, angel, but take it slow, okay?" He leans up, kissing your lips as you try to grind on him, but his hands are firm on your hips, stopping that from happening.

Huffing with impatience, you unbuckle his pants. You didn't care he wasn't fully addressed. Honestly, no, with was hotter than riding him like this, it was a weird thing to love, but you did. Charles lets out that giggle of his watching you with love and lust in his eyes. He enjoyed moments like these. Yes, he was still mad about his dry cleaning, and I don't think he didn't know about the new TikTok trend of flashing your boyfriend during an argument, but he loved learning you both craved each other more than air and still had these moments.

His thoughts are interrupted when he feels your hands on him as he groans, eyes fluttering close as he soaks up the feeling of your hand. Charles jumps slightly when you move your hand up and down, almost teasingly as, licking your lips, you look up at him, both of you freezing.

"I love you." He whispers, making your smile show as you remove your hands, trailing them up his body and into his hair, gently tugging the strands.

"I love you too. Sorry for not picking up the dry cleaning." You mumble, making both your chest rattle from his laughter.

"Fuck the dry cleaning, angel." He whispers, kissing your lips, cheeks, and all over your face, causing it to scrunch up.

"Well, can you fuck me first?" You ask, causing a sputter of laughter from both of you.

"I'm not fucking you-." "But-" Charles shuts you up, flipping you onto your back and gently sliding into you. "I'm going to show you how much I love you." He groans, pressing his forehead against yours as soft whimpers escape your mouth.

"Charles." You whine as he slowly moves his hips out, but not enough so you can adjust to him. Charles curses himself for being weak, but nothing makes him shake more than being inside you.

He drove at dangerous speeds and through crashes, weather, and anything else; he always got shakes from being with you.

"Y/n." He groans, slowly moving his hips out before plunging back into you, moans and soft words passing between you as Charles holds you close.

"M close." You groan as Charles nods, knowing what to do as he removes his hand from your hair and down your body to your clit.

Charles learned your body inside and out and read enough to know that people needed more than simple penetration. It's why he always got you going with the teasing and touching before even being with you. Your body craved it like a fucking drug. Even now, the way you clamp down him from his thumb, simply brushing your clit, he knew how much you were tittering on edge.

"Let go for me." He whispers, his thumb giving just enough pressure and moving in a small circle before going up and down that has you moaning loudly as your body spams. Charles stills, stopping himself from his own before your body goes limp, eyes hazy from the orgasm.

"Let me help." You whisper, pulling away and hissing from the empty feeling but shaking it off as Charles moves around you, not resisting your slight push to get him in his back.

Licking his lips, Charles watches as you move between his legs, getting comfortable before licking your tongue over his cock.

"God damn." He groans, knowing he won't last long but he doesn't care.

Giggling to yourself, you waste no time taking him into your mouth, causing him to let out more curses, mixes of English, French, and Italian. His weight on your tongue makes you relax as your tongue swirls around his head, throat relaxing and taking him further. Sometimes Charles loved your sloppy fast pace or slow and teasing style, but he was enjoying how you let him enjoy it. Bobbing your head, you move your left hand and grip his thigh, letting him know you are okay and taking your right hand to slowly massage him causing him to let out whimpering groans.

You loved turning him into a mess with your mouth, but you feel him twitch and know not to drag it on as long as you tighten your throat slightly and move your tongue faster.

"Angel, fuck, I'm- I'm-" Charles doesn't finish his sentence as he comes in your mouth. You don't stop your movements, still sucking him through his high. You pull off him slowly when you feel him relax in your mouth, and you quickly swallow as he pants, trying to catch his breath.

"Damn." He groans, his hands pulling you up so you lay on top of him, not wanting you far from him. Charles would never admit it, but after sex, he just needed you next to him to make sure you were okay and to know you didn't feel conflicted emotions sometimes.

"Apology accepted." He whispers, making you laugh and kiss his nose before laying your head on his shoulder, enjoying his scent and heartbeat against your hand.

"Hey?" He asks, fingers running up and down your back.

"Yes?" You reply, your own fingers trailing over his chest and abdomen.

"Next time we argue like that, whip 'em out again." He mumbles.

Your brain stops working before you slap his chest, making you shout in surprise as you try hard not to laugh.

"Your such a boy." You shout, which Charles laughs as he grabs your hands, stopping the assault.

"Yes, but I'm yours." He says, kissing your nose.

"Yeah, you are." You smile, running your hand over his jaw as both talk and laugh, the gala event wholly forgotten.

#f1 #formula 1 #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 fandom #f1 imagine #f1 scenario #formula one #charles leclerc #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc smut #boyfriend charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #f1 charles leclerc #f1 smut #charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc x reader #charles imagine #charles leclerc ferrari

[uplatterme]

aether and kaveh look like disney princesses i wanna fuck the shit out of

there is no need for elaboration

-🪸

—okay. you’ve got me hooked. rapunzel!aether in part 2! (tba)

—cinderella!kaveh/royalty!reader, sub!bottom!kaveh/top!dom!reader, amab!reader (referred with they/them pronouns) | cinderella au, semi-public sex, quickie, clothed sex, cum as lube, porn with actual plot (don’t let the tags fool u, this is so fucking soft)

You completely regret hosting this party.

It was something that your advisor had tasked you to do. Host a party, find a suitable partner, get an heir so the kingdom has someone to depend on, blah blah blah.

It’s not like you were even that old. 

You sigh, a cigarette on your lips as you lay your back on the wall of the balcony. So many folks festering you, for that chance that you’ll somehow hand them their crown. 

Your head aches at the number of conversations you have had to endure just to be polite, the amount of times you’ve had to shake off someone from hugging your arm without your consent.

“Oh, fuck!” You hear someone yelp.

And while the owner of this voice sounds overly anxious, you can’t help but want to hear it again, especially with the polite wording that the attendees have used to butter you up. someone swearing right in front of you catches your interest.

Hands reach the bottom of the balcony, and someone lifts their body up to get on the platform.

“Oh god, why is the entrance so crowded?” The person says.

Your ears perk up at that.

“Well, their highness did host it. it’s been a while since such an event has happened.” You answer.

The figure flinches, turning their attention to you. 

Your mouth gapes as you finally see who that voice belonged to. Everything about him is enticing that you can’t help but to drown in his gaze. 

He’s properly dressed as well, although not anything overwhelming to the eyes.

Now, which family had been hiding such a prince from you?

“Ah sorry, I didn’t realize someone was here.” He quickly apologizes. His cheeks flush, not expecting someone to catch him climbing up a balcony.

“You’re more than welcome to stay.” You offer, craving more of him.

He shakes his head, much to your disappointment.

“I’m actually here for something else.” he says.

You hum. “Also aiming for the heart of their highness, then?”

Take it, unknown prince.

“What?! N-No, not at all!” He screams in reply. “I mean, I'd be flattered if their highness even finds me a bit intriguing.”

“Have you met them?” You ask.

“Oh. I haven’t really got the time for that.” He answers, although he seems to be in a melancholy thought when he does.

Still, you breathe at his beauty. You think you can stare at him for your whole life.

You quickly try to change the topic.

“So, what are you here for?”

He points behind you.

You turn your head back but what faces you is nothing but the empty hallway.

“Sorry?” You question.

“The castle.”

His answers just keep surprising you.

He blushes, rubbing his arm as he paces around the small space of the balcony.

“You’re interested in the architecture?”

As soon as you mention that, he brightens up. “Yes! From what I've seen, it’s alright.”

You feel offended. It is your castle, one for which you’ve decided most of the structure. He seems to notice his mistake as he panics.

“But don’t tell anyone that! Especially not their highness…”

You grin.

“Perhaps, the inside can change your mind?” 

“Inside? I don’t think we’re allowed—”

“If we don’t get caught, it’s fine, right?” 

“Yes, but—”

You grab the stranger’s hand and lead him inside, he stumbles in after you, the warmth in your hand startling him.

You bring him into different rooms, hoping that one of them will at least suit his taste.

“This?”

“It’s a bit cramped, the furniture set is going against the wallpaper.”

You roll your eyes, he’s so damn picky. That, or you’re just really bad at interior decorating.

Still, you smile at every single word he says. Being royalty, you have no damn clue what he’s saying. But with that pretty voice of his, you could listen to it for hours.

“Don’t you think you’re being a bit too harsh? What if their highness were merely shown bad choices by their architects?” You say, hoping that wouldn’t risk the random attendee persona that you’re playing at the moment.

“If that’s true, they should’ve fired those architects.” He states confidently.

You laugh. “And what, hire you instead?”

He purses his lips, he didn’t expect you to get that so easily.

He stays silent.

“Do you want to?” You ask.

“Get hired?” The look on his face is so innocent like he can’t even believe that you’re asking such a thing. As if the answer is painfully obvious.

You shake your head. 

“To build a castle.”

He stares at you dumbfounded. His eyes glimmer as he grabs your hands and does so aggressively. You don’t mind even a second of it.

“Are you fucking crazy? T-That’s like my dream!” He admits. He’s smiling widely, his face nothing but only a few centimeters away from you.

He starts babbling about the materials he’ll make it with, the different types of rooms and decorations he’ll add. He’s so damn fascinating, you don’t even care about the speech that you’re supposed to give by midnight.

It’s like he has planned this for a long time. Everything he says is so intricate. His hands move as if he’s drawing it, he’s a bit shaky but it’s obvious that it’s from excitement. To your amazement, the way he describes everything makes it seem as if you’re actually in that castle in your head.

Once he realizes how much he’s talking, he stutters an apology.

“Sorry! It’s just that no one has ever asked me about this, I mean at home I—”

“Okay. I’ll give that to you.” You reply genuinely, your eyes are focused on his soft lips.

His chest heaves and his golden eyelashes flutter with grace…just looking at you.

“You know that’s impossible. I’m not even a professionally licensed architect.” 

“It’s not.”

You’ll make it happen, even if your advisor goes against it. It doesn’t matter if you have to demolish the entire castle you’re in right now.

“It is! You’re just flattering me, I get it. You’ve been nothing but nice to me, but you don’t have to promise and lie to about such things.”

“I mean it.” You say it so sternly that he almost starts believing it.

He sighs deeply. “Going to this party is already a dream come true. There was this little green fairy with white hair, I—”

The words slip out of your mouth, cutting off whatever stupid things he has to say.

“Meeting you is a dream come true.” 

The next few moments are a blur. Your hands are all over the unknown stranger. Fuck, it’s as if you’ve been hit with a love spell. You want to keep kissing his mouth, tell him that he has nothing to worry about when you’re with him. That you’ll do anything he asks.

Your prince whines and the sound has you going insane. 

You want more. 

You’ve gotten so addicted easily that your mind is insatiable. 

It doesn’t matter that the room is left unlocked, no one is going to keep your hands off him. 

“Hah—God!” He breathes enticingly. His mind is so hazy, so weak at how his heart is pounding each second.

You take off his coat, the clothing echoes as it falls down on the floor. His blouse is silk and you swear you can see the way his chest is lined underneath the white cloth.

Your fingers rubbed his hardened nipples and his entire body shivers. He holds onto your shoulders for support, the aroused moan that escapes his throat is just enough for you to keep doing it, and so you do.

“W-Wait! I-I’ll—” He pushes you for a moment, to take a breath as he slowly composes himself.

You watch him impatiently. You can see how his cock twitches from his tight pants, the wet spot in the center, and his dick dripping from precum as the white liquid seeps through it.

You keep your hands inside your pocket. Despite how your pants are perfectly fitted for you, your cock is begging for warmth, specifically from the blonde stranger in front of you.

He then nods.

“I’m okay…we can continue.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t have any—”

“I can take it. It’s fine.” He says as if he’s in a hurry. You’re not sure if it's just because he’s needy or if it’s something else.

You still indulge in his wants, however.

You’ll have to make do with his own fluids although you really don’t want to do anything that’ll hurt him.

Your fingers steadily prepare his walls and you’re trying your best to not be greedy. His needs first, more than anything.

He’s so damn tight, not that you need to worry much as the sounds he’s making are signaling everything but pain.

He’s so soft and so perfect that you’re starting to get jealous of even your own fingers.

“Are you..?”

He nods, and desire fills his eyes. It looks like you’re not the only one getting impatient.

When you finally feel his insides with your cock, the expectations you had were completely blown out of the water. Your hands find their way to his waist and it’s perfect.

The first thrust is enough to send you to heaven. 

“Keep going.” He pleads.

You continue to pound into him, enjoying how each one brings out a soft mewl from the blonde.

His cock is dripping white on the floor, and the carpet gets soaked. You know you need to get that replaced but instead, you want to keep the stain there, as if some kind of trophy.

And while you stir up his insides, a familiar noise bothers your ears.

You don’t let it even phase you, enjoying the pleasure that’s eating you up.

However, your prince decides otherwise.

“H-Hold on! What was that—”

“Just the clock. You don’t need to bother yourself with it.”

A groan escapes your throat, feeling how he tenses up all of the sudden.

“Is it twelve?” He asks.

“N-No, but it’s close. Five more minutes.”

“I need to go.” He says.

No way was he leaving you like this.

“What?”

“I’m so sorry, but I—” His words are cut off by his moaning.

The way you fill him up has him salivating. You didn’t even move but god, his walls clenching on you are betraying his choices right now.

“T-Three minutes.” He whimpers out.

“Thank you, love.”

Your fingers feel up his cock, stroking it up and down while still continuing to pound ruthlessly. He continues to scream out, his mind too overwhelmed from getting his ass and cock ravaged at the same time.

His legs quiver and you have to hold him still. You’re both close and you’ll make sure to have him finish in time at least.

“F-Fuck!” He sobs.

And the worries in your head disappear, cumming inside his walls as he splatters more onto the carpet.

You sigh, your chest thumping as you stand there with your clothes a mess.

He quickly slides off you, trembling but still hastily moving as if the adrenaline has gotten into his head.

“I-I’m so sorry, I’ll try to get in contact with you again. I swear!” He stammers out before fixing his clothes, nearing the doorway.

“Don’t go through the balcony! There’s an exit to the right of this room!” You say, helping him out despite your wishes to keep him here.

“Thanks!” He shouts back.

You swipe the sweat on your forehead, zipping your pants back on.

The clock chimes as it signals it’s midnight. What a fucking way to end the night.

You hear rushed steps from the hallway.

Your attention turns to the door. Did he come back?

Your disappointment is immeasurable when you find out it’s just your advisor.

“Your highness! I’ve been looking everywhere, you’re late for your speech—Oh my god, what did you—No, who did you?!” She looks disappointed.

You look down. Ah, right.

Who?

Oh fuck, you never got his name. 

“I didn’t ask. Oh no.” The realization slowly sets in.

“Excuse me?!” Your advisor answers offended by your words. You can tell how stressed she’s been, her teal hair in a mess.

“I’ll be right there. Let me clean up first, Ma’am”

“I’ll get everyone distracted. Jeez, young ones these days!” She says before rushing away.

The urge to punch the wall in front of you right now is high.

You look at the floor and notice the coat on the floor.

It smells just like him.

You lay your head on the cold table, mind filled with everything but your duties. The only thing that’s engraved in there is nothing but the sweet prince you met a while ago.

But no matter how many times you’ve gone through portraits of different royal families, even going through the nobles, you’re not met with a match.

“Your Highness. I see you’ve been distracted again.”

“Madame Faruzan, I cannot do this anymore.” You tell her wholeheartedly.

Your advisor rolls her eyes.

“Right after I caught you and that whole mess, you should be working.”

“He’s a great guy! He’s skilled with his hands.” You argue with her.

“I do not need to hear what he did with you.”

“That’s not what I meant! He’s an architect, he’s good! I’ve heard how he works, I’ll vouch for him.”

“You’re biased. Something that a ruler should not have. I told you this when you were younger.” She warns you.

It seems that she won’t hear you out no matter how hard you try. 

“I really cannot focus.” You say. 

It’s the truth. You’ve been sleeping with that coat for weeks, along with other things. As if it’s actually him to begin with.

“If he’s such a great architect, then why don’t you work with that?”

An idea enters your head.

“Ma’am, you’re a genius.”

“Of course.” She says confidently with a smile.

She shakes the compliment off, lord knows she's the smartest person you’ve ever met.

“So? What’s your verdict?” She asks.

A day after, a letter was sent out to the people of your kingdom.

Needless to say, everyone was freaking out.

“Goodness, that’s a big deal. Isn’t it?”

“Right! That’s a big opportunity.” 

The entire market was in an uproar as Kaveh shops for his family. He couldn’t care any, especially not with the consequences he faced from being caught out late in the night. They never knew that he went to the party, but he’s sure his snarky scholar of a step-sibling knows.

“Oh, Kaveh.” A friendly face greets him.

“Miss Nilou.”

She smiles at him, 

“Are you participating?”

The confused face of Kaveh is enough for Nilou to shake the soul out of him.

“You have to! Their highness is currently looking for an architect to turn the whole castle into something new!” 

Kaveh’s eyes widen. “…Actually?”

“Yes! Oh, you have to hurry! It’s only up till today!” She brings it up, and Kaveh rushes home as fast as he can.

It’s almost like a dream come true.

First, that little green fairy that gave him the opportunity to attend the party in the first place. Then, that person he met at the said party who he flushes at every time he thinks of them. And now, this?

He almost tears the whole place down from searching for his plates. 

Kaveh compiles it in an envelope. He feels rewarded as if everything that he’s gone through has finally led up to something.

“Fuck! Where is it?” He’s missing a folder. 

Technically, what he’s giving is already more of what was asked for. Still, the perfectionist in him cannot stand to not have everything in its place, especially not with the opportunity that he was presented with.

A knock comes from his door and he flinches, his family cannot know about this. They’ll get rid of it again.

“It’s just me.” He relaxes, rolling his eyes before turning back.

“Asshole,” Kaveh says.

“After I saw your folder in the living room and kept it? Alright, I’ll guess I’ll throw it out.” Al-Haitham replies sarcastically.

“You wouldn’t.”

“I kept it for a reason. I wouldn’t throw it out now.” Kaveh forcefully takes out the folder and shoves it into his envelope.

He wants to say thanks, but his pride is too high for that.

“Be home before your curfew, I won’t cover for you.” Al-Haitham says.

Kaveh knows that he will despite the annoying tone that he’s using.

He runs to the front of the castle as fast as he can, his legs were not made out for this kind of journey. Still, he won’t give up.

He reaches the gates luckily, just an hour before the deadline.

Now, all he had to do was wait.

“We got a lot of submissions…and most of them are barely even considered actual pieces. I mean, look at this. Who would turn a castle into a teapot?” Faruzan complains, searching through the different envelopes.

You take a look at the amount and you couldn’t help but agree more. It’s absurd.

“Everyone who’s a licensed architect can be thrown away.” You ordered.

“Did I hear that correctly?” She eyes you as if you’re crazy.

You are.

“It’s fine, I have faith in him.”

After that, the submissions are lessened quite easily. While there were some that had fit up to the standards, they weren’t simply what you were looking for.

You remember every single thing he said, if you could just match that up with an envelope then you’ll be fine.

“We have two left.” Your advisor states.

Two names in front of you. One was named ‘Albedo’ and the other one was named ‘Kaveh’. You hesitate to open, the anxiety that he never heard of this competition or that you have sorted away his piece is eating you.

Your advisor notices this and gives one of her very rare encouragement.

“You said you have faith.”

You sigh, trying to calm down.

“I do.” You say it just loud enough to believe it.

You and Faruzan both take one, opening them at the same time.

Your hands shake as you do. 

This ‘Albedo’ is good. God, it’s gorgeous. Though what he’s sent out are more artistic than they are architectural, you can see the vision that he’s presenting, it’s something you think your mystery man would find great fun studying.

You literally cannot do this.

You only had one chance left.

It’s this or nothing.

Faruzan holds your hand while you go through his envelope. It’s breathtaking, it’s almost as what you imagined that time Kaveh was talking to you were right here, laid out perfectly.

“Kaveh.” The name sounds so sweet on your tongue.

Finally.

You dress up in a nice outfit, sitting on the carriage’s seat, trying your best not to scream. You could have gotten the wrong person, but you’re sure that this Kaveh is him.

You’re not accompanied by anyone except your coachman. You’ve asked him “if you’re there yet” about five times.

You bury your face in your hands. This is fine, you’ll be fine.

You almost smack your head face-first on the seat when the carriage comes to a stop without any warning.

The door opens for you.

You hear the gossiping of the people around you and you give them that perfect smile you’ve been taught to do even if it makes you feel uncomfortable.

There’s a person by the door. One who’s certainly not the one you met at the party.

“Hello.” You greet.

“Your highness.” He replies, bowing his head.

There is an awkward silence between the two of you. It is clear that neither of you likes talking.

“I’m looking for—”

“Kaveh, I presume?”

You nod nervously.

He opens the door and shouts, an annoyed response can be heard from the outside.

Everything’s fine, you rule this kingdom. If it’s another person, you can just bomb the whole place away!

The joking in your head does not make it any better.

“I swear this better be important, I was busy—” He stops talking as soon as he meets with your eyes.

There’s a flushed look on his face that matches yours.

“Oh. It’s you…”

There come the gasps from around you.

“He did not just call them that.”

“How disrespectful!”

“Right?!”

You cough, unsure how to state why you’re here. You just hand him the contract.

He shakes as he reads it. 

“What…?”

“I told you that I’ll build you a castle.” You remind him.

Kaveh remembers and you can see everything click right in his face. He’s very expressive, not that you were a stranger to that.

“Y-Your Highness.” He stutters.

You wonder if it’s appropriate to go down on your knee.

Fuck it. You can have Madame Faruzan reprimand you later.

The people watching scream in shock as you go down on one knee.

“Now that we have that out of the way…Will you do me the honor of ruling by your side?”

Please say yes, please say yes, please say—

“What?!” Kaveh yells at you. 

“G-Get up! Oh my god, your highness!” He tells you.

“I’m not standing up unless you say yes.”

The man you talked to previously whistles before heading inside the house. Kaveh glares at him, he did just not leave him in a situation like this.

“I’m serious, Kaveh.”

“You’re crazy.” He says.

“I know.” You look up to him hopefully.

He’s so red, it’s almost painful to look at. Not that you were any different from his case.

“I—Alright! Yes! So stand up already, your cape is getting dirty and everyone’s looking so—”

You pull Kaveh down by his collar, drowning in his sweet familiar lips.

You pull Kaveh down by his collar, drowning in his sweet familiar lips.

#plattered writings #dom reader #sub genshin impact #dom!reader #sub genshin #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #kaveh x reader #sub kaveh #sub!kaveh #sub kaveh x reader #thirsts for blake

[fooled-around-and-fell]

Can I humbly request a part two to the Carmy fic you just posted? It had me kicking my feet and giggling

Of course!!! Here you go 🩵

summary: you're going to the awards event with carmy, and things happen in the big, fancy, chandelier-ed bathroom.

genre: smut

pairing: carmen berzatto x female reader

warnings: smut, 18+, mdni, unprotected sex, creampie, cursing, almost public sex, bathroom sex

part one (you don't need to read this to catch up).

Masterlist

-----

somehow--from all the teasing, the tension, the touching--somehow, you've agreed to go to the awards event with carmen. as carmen's date.

you're standing in front of your mirror in a navy gown to match carmen's suit, and as your palms are sweating, you pinch yourself mentally to make sure this is really happening.

how did you get here? what the fuck happened in the shop that-

you hear your phone ring. a text from carmen:

i'm outside. no rush. take your time.

okay, no time to panic and go through a crisis. it's go time. you take your purse, put on your heels and go down to meet carmen.

"holy shit." he whispers when he sees you step out of your apartment building.

"hi." you smile shyly.

carmen's smile grows. "you look beautiful."

"thank you. you look handsome."

"all thanks to you." he says.

"you two lovebirds done? we're running late." richie rolls down the window from the driver's seat.

carmen curses richie in his head before opening the door for you, letting you sit next to him at the back while syd takes the passenger seat.

the ride to the event venue isn't quiet. richie is arguing with syd about some stuff for the bear, but your mind is focused on one thing: carmen's hand on your thigh--

--oh, let me rephrase. carmen's left hand on your inner, upper thigh. his hand slipped through the slit of your dress, and he can feel the heat coming from your cunt. you cross your legs so that syd won't be able to see and to get some friction while carmen smirks, squeezing your thigh and sliding his fingers closer to your clothed cunt.

you slowly take a deep breath, gripping his elbow tightly, and he just kisses the side of your forehead.

"stay still." he whispers.

you feel tingly with anticipation, and just as carmen's finger is about to gently, ever so slightly touch your aching clit, richie stops the car and announces, "we're here."

"fucking hell." you curse lowly and earn a chuckle from carmen.

he steps out of the car and helps you out, arm circling your waist and pulling you close once you're on your feet. "don't worry. we've got time."

you can't stop staring at his damned blue eyes and lips. the way he smells so good and the way he looks at you makes your insides churn in the best way possible.

carmen intertwines your hand in his and leads you into the venue. for what carmen called a 'small event', it has more cameramen and is way fancier than what you imagined.

"this is... a lot of people," you comment when the doors to the ballroom open.

carmen's hand is on your lower back, keeping you close. "you want something to drink?"

you nod and carmen first takes you to the table you're all sitting at before asking one of the waiters for the specialty drink. it's some fancy fruit infused champagne that you don't really understand, but if it's alcohol, it'll do.

you're surprised when you see carmen one-shotting the champagne and you touch his leg to get his attention. "carmen, you okay?"

"yeah," he reassures you. "just a little nervous. nothing to worry about."

"carmen's nominated, that's why he's so nervous." richie says. "relax cousin, we all know you're gonna win."

"it's not a big deal, alright? it doesn't matter," carmen says, dismissing the conversation. though he says that, you can see his leg is furiously shaking under the table, so you give his hand a squeeze before standing up.

"i'm gonna use the bathroom." you excuse yourself, but not before giving carmen a look.

you're hoping carmen will take the hint. you didn't exactly have an agreement on what "i'm gonna use the bathroom" with that certain look means, but you're hoping what you're about to do will help with carmen's nerves.

and then you see carmen turning the corner, so while no one is coming, you pull him to the small hallway you're at to hide from the crowd.

"there you are." he smiles.

"hi." you smile back.

carmen's heart is beating fast, and you're hoping it's because of your little getaway. his hand moves to cup your cheek and he brings your face closer to his.

"can i kiss you?"

nodding slowly, you circle your arms around his neck and close your eyes, feeling carmen's soft plush lips against yours. the kiss feels euphoric, feels unreal. he's so gentle yet firm, and the way he holds you so close to him makes you feel safe in his arms.

while breaking the kiss to catch your breaths, carmen peeks out to see if anyone's around.

"what're you doing?" you ask.

carmen has a smirk on his face, and though he looks super handsome, what carmen has in mind is definitely what you thought of when you signaled him to follow you to the bathroom.

he sneaks you into the men's bathroom while it's empty and goes into one of the stalls. the door and walls of the stall is covered from floor to ceiling, so no one can really tell a woman's in there unless you make a sound.

"carmen," you whisper, eyes wide to tell him how crazy this is.

"what?" he chuckles, kissing you again.

"what if someone hears me?" you ask in between.

smirking again, carmen kisses the spot just below your ear. "then you'll have to keep quiet."

"but-"

your sentence gets cut off when you hear someone enter the bathroom. it's a big bathroom, which means the chances of someone catching you two is smaller, but it also means that voices echo.

your eyes keep staring at carmen in disbelief when he slips his hand through the slit of your dress and inches slowly to your core. you have to cover your mouth and hold back a gasp when he suddenly drags his thumb over your clit.

but he doesn't move his thumb. it's just there, touching your clit, applying just enough pressure to leave you wanting more. you'd unconsciously clench from the lack of friction, and carmen's smirk only grows.

you buck your hips up and carmen holds it in place with his other hand. "patience." he whispers.

with pleading eyes, you take his hand and drag it down to the wetness pooling between your legs. "please carmen," you whisper, "i need you."

"holy shit." carmen's jaw drops.

carmen pushes your soaked panties aside and his fingers come in contact with your wetness. almost instinctively, carmen drops down to his knees. and, while keeping eye contact with you, he bunches your gown up, pulls your sticky panties down, and slowly kisses just above your clit.

"jesus-" you almost say out loud and slap your mouth shut, just in time for the door outside to open and a few men come in talking.

carmen squeezes your thigh before kissing the same spot and placing your hand on his head. he starts licking just below the surface, softly, gently, but when your frustration leads you to pull a fistful of his hair, carmen gets the hint and picks up his pace.

not making a sound is fucking hard, but with carmen's head between your legs sloppily devouring you, your voice is the least of your worries right now. you gently pull carmen up to stand. "as much as i would love you to finish what you're doing... i don't think we the time or place for that."

you help him with his belt and pull his pants down just enough to free his constrained cock and stroke it a few times. carmen bites his tongue as to not moan out loud and turns you around, pushing your dress out of the way again and rubs himself between your slit.

"fucking hell." he sighs when he pushes into you, feeling your warmth and tightness.

he can't go too fast, because it'll be too loud. but going slow would kill both of you. he tries to control his pace so that his balls won't slap against your clit, but the few times that they do, you try your best not to cry out of pleasure.

carmen feels so fucking good inside you. it's as if he was made out of a mold and that mold is your pussy.

your one hand is still covering your mouth while the other is pushing your weight against the door. you feel someone checking whether your stall is available or not before going to the next stall. you look back at carmen to signal him to stop moving so he won't hear you, but carmen has a different idea.

one of his hands is holding your hips and your gown on the side, and the other sneaks around under to where you're connected and he starts touching the bundle of nerves that's already throbbing.

your eyes widen as you shake your head at him, trying to tell him "don't you dare", but carmen, indeed, dares. not so slowly, carmen rubs your clit while thrusting his hips, causing your eyes to roll back while you try to keep your panting to a minimum.

carmen bends over to fully push your body against the door and nips at your neck, urging you to come around him as he comes inside you, feeling your pulsing walls.

"fuck." carmen says out loud and your eyes snap wide open to look at him, as if saying "what have you done".

but there is no response anyone, just the sound of the sink being turned off and the door being closed. that was a close one.

carmen holds back his laughter and turns you around, kissing you over and over, and not letting you go. his way of saying "you're fucking amazing."

later that night, carmen wins the award and thanks everyone on his team, his family, and though he didn't specifically mention your name on stage, the knowing smile he sent you and the things he did to you after the show were more than enough to convey how special you are to him.

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x you #carmy the bear #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmy x reader #carmy smut #carmen berzatto smut #carmen x reader #carmen smut #carmen bear #smut #carmy x reader smut #carmy berzatto x reader smut #carmy berzatto smut #carmy x you #carmy x fem!reader

[uluvjay]

Plum- J. Drysdale

Jamie Drysdale x fem! Reader

In which the ducks anniversary jerseys are looking very good on your boyfriend.

Warnings?; SMUT, breeding kink, p in v, unprotected sex(Wear protection!), pet names, cursing, kissing, those fucking plum jerseys, talks of starting a family, I can’t think of more

Part of my 1kcelly:)

You hadn’t been able to sit still since he left the house dressed in the plum colored Jersey. The way it complimented his pale skin and dark hair had his eyes appearing brighter and jaw sharper.

You had always found the jerseys appealing ever since he told you that was what the team would be going with for their 30th anniversary.

But what you weren’t expecting was just how good he looked in said jersey. When he walked out of your shared bedroom wearing the jersey over a hoodie and a pair of joggers for the Ducks community event, you had just about dropped to your knees for him right then and there.

"Baby I'm home" you heard his voice call from the entry way of your new home, finally getting somewhat rid of Trevor allowing some more privacy.

"Living room!" you shouted back, acknowledging the boy of your whereabouts.

Strutting in still clad in the plum jersey he leaned down to give you a kiss in greeting, "Hi baby" he smiled when you two separated.

“Hi” you muttered out before hastily pulling the boy back down to your lips.

Jamie groaned as he felt you attempting to deepen the kiss, your nails had slipped into his hair and tugged at his dark roots causing Him to open his mouth in a gasp, allowing your tongue to enter his mouth.

“Mm, baby. What’s all this for?” He asked as he pulled away for air.

“Missed you” you whined as he pulled back when you tried to bring him down again.

“Missed me? Baby we’ve been together al-“ the boy cut himself off as he finally took a full look at you. Your thighs were clenched, lip slightly pouted and red, and your eyes were darkening with blown out pupils.

“Ohh, I get it. You just want some attention huh baby? Tell me what got you all worked up” he teased as he sat next to you and pulled you onto his lap.

“S embarrassing” you mumbled, face buried in his neck.

“How so?” He laughed, his hands running up and down your thighs smirking at the shiver that ran down your spine.

Playing with the strings of his hoodie you finally admitted just what had gotten you so turned on, “The damn jersey was the first thing and then I kept seeing videos of you all over Twitter playing with kids and holding babies, and god do you look good with a baby in your arms. It was quite unfair really” you grumbled into his chest.

Jamie smirked at your words, the two of you had been talking about kids for a long time but you knew it wasn’t the right time. But that didn’t stop the two of you from fucking like bunnies every time one of your breeding kinks kicked in.

Jamie tangled a hand in your hair to pull you head away from his chest, causing a whine to escape your throat at the pain. “You just want me to fuck you full huh baby?” He mocked as he felt you grind against him.

You let out a pathetic whimper in response, hips rolling against his in attempt to settle the ache between your legs.

“Please Jamie..” you breathed

“Take your pants off for me” he spoke before lifting his own hips to pull down his pants and boxers.

His hard cock springing out from the restricting material he wrapped his hand around it and slowly jerked himself while he waited for you to take your place on his lap.

“Come here baby” he called a hand reaching for one of you own to pull you on top of him.

He pulled you into a heated kiss, one that had your breath hitching and yearning for more when he pulled away for air.

“Jamie..” you breathed but he cut you off with soft shushes as he angled you over his cock.

“It’s okay baby, just breathe for me-there you go, good girl” he worked you through the stretch of your cunt from his cock.

“Shit Jamie, you’re so big” you cried at the feeling of him bottoming out inside of you.

A shiver ran down Jamie’s back as he slowly started to guide you up and down his cock by your hips, a slow and sweet pace.

He placed his head in your neck, lips sucking and nipping along your warm skin. He loved the way your body reacted to him, his cock coaxing whines from your throat while your manicured nails dug into the fabric of his plum jersey.

“Doing so good for me baby, such a good girl” he praised.

He loved fucking you slow but he couldn’t hold off much longer, he was getting close and he needed something more.

Pinning you against his chest with his arms locked behind your back, he positioned his feet against your coffee table before thrusting his hips into you at an unforgivable pace.

“Oh! Shi-Jamie” you mindlessly babbled at the new pace. His cock hit all the right places, his tip brushing right against your g-spot.

Your toes curled as you could feel the tightness forming in your lower stomach, cried becoming louder and louder.

“Shit I’m getting close baby” he groaned into your hair.

“Me to Jamie-fuck! Come for me please baby.” You encouraged the man beneath you, fingers slipping into his dark locks.

He brushed wet kisses along the skin of your bare shoulder before he sucked in a deep breath at the euphoric feeling washing over him.

“I’m coming” he shivered, spilling his seed deep inside your clenching core.

He could tell you were almost there by the way your walls were clenching around him tighter and tighter as he continued to thrust up into you, sharp breaths and whines coming from your throat.

“I’m coming Jamie!” You cried into his neck as you felt the shiver run down your spine and shaking of your thighs be unbearable.

You two sat like that for a moment, his hands running along your back while he placed loving kisses to the side of your head.

“I guess I should wear the plum jersey more often eh?” He teased.

“Shut up” you laughed placing a light slap to his arm.

-

#jamie drysdale imagine #jamie drysdale x reader #jamie drysdale #jamie drysdale blurb #jamie drysdale smut #nhl #nhl fanfiction #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #nhl smut #anahiem ducks #anaheim ducks #jays1kcelly

[sanjisblackasswife]

𝙲/𝚌𝚔𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙳𝚒𝚕𝚏𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝙾𝚗𝚎 𝙿𝚒𝚎𝚌𝚎

Ft. Gol D. Roger, Rayleigh, Ben Beckman, Shanks (This can be when they were younger or older idc)

Black Fem Reader in Mind

CW: Cockwarming, Fingering, Kissing, Dirty Talk(?)

Roger

Gol D is such a simple man when it comes to you and your pussy.

If you offer to sit down on his cock as he drinks the night away he’ll be over the moon

“Roger, we’ll be in front of the crew though…”

“Yeah, well…we’ll also be in a corner and you’ll have this pretty dress on.”

His infamous smile showing his deep dimples behind that nose hair of his never failed to make you roll your eyes and agree to his slutty plans.

You and him now cozied up as the party goes on his ship, his tip softly hitting spots in your pussy that makes you softly whimper whenever he adjusts his hips in his seats

“You’re like my personal little heater.” He hums drunkly in your ear, nearly about to grope your breast but you slap his hand

“Shut up Roger!”

Rayleigh

Big…Big..he’s so big.

It’s not the length that Rayleigh has that gets you it’s the GIRTH.

Whenever he offers you to sit down and say still it’s purely out of punishment.

“Seems I spoiled you too much today huh?”

You squeeze down at his words, his musky natural scent and his breath hitting your ear as you sat so painfully still on his lap as he read—

“Porn. Really…you’re reading fucking porn.”

“Ssssh.” He kisses the pout you have on your lips and a firm swat landed on your butt right after making your nude body jolt against his. “‘M reading, now.”

You knew if you rocked Your hips against his you’d be in trouble. You knew, and he almost read your mind from the glint in your eyes staring down at the wet mess connecting you both.

Rayleigh knew you wouldn’t last keeping him warm. You never do, so when he felt your pathetic ruts against his body he smiled. Giving you what your pretty supple body wanted this while time.

Picking you up swiftly you hold onto his wide frame, feeling him place you on his fluffy bed to then hold your legs as far apart as they can be. He spits on your little clit, thumbing it to soothe the tense feeling of his cock still inside you.

He was right. He spoiled you too much.

Ben

You both love to do it after sex

Purely because it lead to more sex.

Benny is an affectionate/touchy man when it comes to you. Your body and the softness of it always gives him a cloud 9 kinda of feeling that he refuses to let go of

“Stay.” Is all he says when he keeps you under him, his head in your breast, every once in a while licking/kissing on your bruised nipples from prior events.

As full as you already were, the way how his body caged you in, the way his hair felt in your hands, his warmth and weight. You didn’t mind it.

Sometime he will switch positions, leaving you on top and him leaning on the headboard so he can smoke, he’ll rub your nude/sweaty back to soothe you back to sleep.

However—

“Whatcha doin’?…hm?”

He felt you grind against him a little, kissing his neck, maybe it was the hint smell of your pussy in his breath, the way his fingers lingered on your ass when he rubbed you, or maybe you’re just THAT needy but—

“Wan’ more…” Your whispered, embarrassment creeped in your face realizing you both been at it since this evening and its such a late hour.

Benny smiles, bringing your chin to his mouth and shotgunning you before both of your tongues played with each other. His kisses were always so sweet, but messy.

“Use me then…” Benny laid flat on his back, one arm behind his head, “‘M all yours.”

Ben was never a man to tell you no

Shanks

You swear it’s because he is a pervert but really he loves to be close to you.

It usually never ends with sex, he can fall alseep right then and there when he plunges inside you.

It was a rough day, running around, training, stealing, you name it. It was a lot for Shanks.

You both are in your shared room, getting ready for bed after taking a quiet calm bath together, he watches you lather your body up, Damn—-you looked so good

But he was so tired, he didn’t want to ask you to ride him, it seemed selfish to use you for his own satisfaction but

He needed you.

“Sweetheart…Can…can you sleep with no panties tonight?”

Usually you would have scoffed at his offer, sounding like a pervert again but his voice was tired and his eyes were drowsy. You approach him, cupping his damp cheek and he leans in to kiss you slowly.

“Of course.”

He gave you his shirt to wear and you did, he decided to just stay in the nude.

You lay on your side, and almost immediately when shanks gets in the bed he plants his lips on yours, passionately kissing you, leaving you to moan in his mouth as he plays with your clit a little.

“So wet already…” He marvels, lifting your leg a little he shares a “fuck” with you, you’re so warm and tight, so eager to suck him inside.

You can hear his sigh of relief as he settles inside you from behind.

“Thank you baby.” He pecks your neck, you were exactly what he needed after today

He knew in the morning he’d have to thank you with his tongue.

#rayleigh x reader #silvers rayleigh #one piece rayleigh #one piece #black reader #one piece headcanons #one piece x female reader #one piece smut #one piece x black!reader #gol d roger #gol d. roger #gol d. roger smut #gol d roger smut #gol d roger headcanon #rayleigh smut #ben beckman #ben beckman smut #ben beckman one piece #shanks #shanks smut #one piece shanks #shanks x black reader #shanks x female reader

[https-florals]

The reader gets rlly flustered easily and she's so shy, her boyfriend JJ thinks it's hilarious and is always teasing her especially in front of ppl. Most of the time she hits his arm and yells at him but he js never learns his lesson 😭 then like one day he stops doing it and the reader is all like '???' And he says he stopped bc she didn't like it but she secretly loves it so she's a little pouty until he starts it back up 😭

(IF THAT MAKES SENSE ‼️‼️)

this was honestly such a cutie ask and i hope i did it justice with this lil drabble!!! tease jj is my favorite. i've been in such a writing slump lately and this was a nice little prompt!!

one thing about jj maybank- he loves to embarrass his friends. it is quite literally his favorite pastime, and his favorite to annoy is you. when you first started dating, he reigned it in, but lately it’s an unstoppable force. his compliments are constant, his teasing persistent. jj is hooking his fingers in the waistband of your sweats, just a way to stay tethered you in all honesty, but he loves to feel your skin heat and the way you swat him away. 

when the boys and kie surf, you and sarah sunbathe. he is shouting from his board, essentially catcalling you with whoops and whistles. he can’t hear you, but he almost falls off his board watching you groan and cover your face. 

jj is also a downright devil when tipsy- which happens at each and every social event. He’s pulling you down on his lap, holding you still when you try to wriggle out of his arms. for someone who blushes when they get called pretty, you’re damn near having a heart attack when he whispers the lewdest things in your ear. His first response when you roll your eyes at him (desperately trying to maintain your cool) is to tell you how much he likes it when your eyes roll back when he’s fucking you.

“jj!!” you jump up, and scold him. the only thought in his head is that you are very pretty when you’re yelling at him.

he loves this little back and forth, and keeps at it, until a new year’s party where he introduces you to someone as his exquisite girlfriend- you’re trying to figure out when he has ever used that word when he plants a kiss on the corner of your mouth and you go chili-pepper hot. that’s innocent enough, so you just fiddle with your pendant necklace and laugh and let him hang onto you. later, kie is doing a diy photobooth where she has out a polaroid camera and groups of people are lining up for a photo op. jj immediately drags you over there, and you both are just giggling quietly as you watch friend groups be silly and couples kiss for the camera. 

when it’s finally your turn, jj immediately asks the important questions. “sweet or silly!”

“silly, obviously!” his hand instinctively goes to the small of your back, and you lean into his hold so it looks like you’re about to fall. you make a scared face and wrap your fist in jj’s shirt because, truth be told, you’re a little afraid he will actually drop you. he doesn’t though, and when kie counts down and the flash goes off, jj tilts his head down and licks a stripe up your exposed neck. 

you hear a few lewd whistles and catcalls, and you jump straight up and hit him on the arm. “j! what the hell!”

he is grinning like a devil, cheeks a little pink but undeterred anyways. “yeah, baby?”

kie is laughing too as the camera whirs, and she shakes it under a light and lets out another giggle as it develops. jj snatches it out of her hands, and holds it just out of your reach as you swat at his arms, pinch his sides, anything to get that somewhat incriminating photo. in your opinion, it should sit in a drawer. instead, jj is showing everyone around him, saying stuff like “aren’t we so hot?” and, “look at her face!!”

you’re so embarrassed that you could just die, but you take the route of huffing and skulking into the bathroom. you would love to lie and say you didn’t hide there for about two hours, but you’re honest. you hid for two hours.

when you and jj catch a ride home with pope, he’s oddly quiet. his hand stays at your knee, and he’s not touching you anywhere else. not making jokes to pope, and not pressing his lips up against your neck as he loves to do anytime you’re both in the backseat. you don’t really think anything of it, and let your head drop against his shoulder. when you get home, jj shoves the polaroid into a drawer and it isn’t spoken of again.

a few days pass, and you’re convinced something is deeply wrong with your boyfriend. he’s normal enough at home- stage-5 clinger, loud, and horny at all times. but in public, it’s like someone has replaced him with a robot. the most contact you have is his hand on your waist or his arm around your shoulders. there’s no compliments in front of your friends, no butt pinches, no silly whistles. he doesn’t even plead you to shotgun with him when you’re all smoking! you never take him up on the offer, but it’s the thought that counts. the change affects you more than you like to admit, being a little grumpier than average. when you’re in the chateau living room with everyone and jj tries to kiss your cheek, you’re huffing and pushing him away. every comment he makes to you that isn’t the highest praise has you annoyed and ignoring him.

later, when you two are alone with his face pressed to your chest and your fingers lazily twirling through his hair, he makes a joke about being surprised you’re tolerating him.

“don’t be rude,” you snap back, “i’m not the one being super weird lately.” you ask him what���s been going on. he’s dismissive, as he usually is when little problems arise. 

“nothin’, honey.”

“don’t lie to me, maybank.” you tug his head up so he’s looking at you, and his lips pressed into an annoyed line, put off by the fact that his face is no longer up against your boobs.

“explain,” he says, not in a rude way, just genuine and questioning.

you shrug. “you’ve just been weird around our friends lately. not as… like touchy,” you gesture and pat his shoulder.

“ohhh, that!”

so he knows what you’re talking about?

“i just noticed you got kinda like, uncomfortable when i did that kind of stuff. like my jokes, or whatever. i guessed i needed to stop embarrassing you,” he grins sheepishly.

“i’m just shy!” you say defensively with a little whine. “i can’t help it.”

he nods, hand rubbing up your torso to console you. “ it’s okay to be shy, baby. it’s not okay for me to be mean.” jj mimics your pouty lip.

you sigh and smile, running your fingers down his neck. “i like it when you’re mean.”

he immediately pushes himself up so he’s over you, and grin. “really?”

“i’m serious!” you counter, but you don’t stop the way his knee starts to slide between your legs. “i like your jokes, and i like you making fun of me.”

jj pauses. “you’re serious?”

“yeah! i’m sorry, i thought i hated when you’d do that kind of stuff, but you’ve been so boring without it.”

“me, boring? i’m not boring.” to prove his point, you guess, he starts peppering kisses all over your neck. 

“you were boring!” you laugh. “Like, it wasn’t you. i like when you’re a tease.”

“i miss being a tease,” he groans. “i miss you getting all flustered and i really miss coming and finding you when you hide in bathrooms.”

that part does confuse you. “huh?”

“cause,” he kisses you in between the phrases, “you’d be so angry and pretty, and then we’d get to makeout in the bathroom. that’s my favorite part.”

“that’s my favorite part too,” you laugh.

later, when you’ve melted into each other and you’re sitting in the pretty quiet, you both come up with a new year’s resolution: always do the embarrassing things, and worry about the embarrassment later. 

your fun little polaroid no longer sits in a drawer alone, but in fact on your bulletin board, with a bunch of other pictures just as flirty, just as teasing, and just as sweet.

as always, likes, reblogs, and comments are greatly appreciated!!

#outer banks fanfiction #obx #outer banks #jj maybank #jj maybank blurb #jj maybank x reader #jj obx fic

[personasintro]

Mutual Help | #11

𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭: @kithtaehyung

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x reader

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fake dating au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, mature content

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.7k+

⇠ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯. | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢ 

"What the hell are you doing there? We're gonna be late!"

Jungkook's muffled voice reaches your ears, settling an irritation inside of you as you adjust your breasts in the red dress for the last time. He's been whining outside of the bathroom door for the past twenty minutes, mostly complaining about time and how much it's taking you to get ready.

It's easy for him, he just put on his suit and styled his hair – that's it.

You've been struggling to make a perfect eyeliner, making sure there are no smudges underneath your eyes from mascara and your concealer doesn't move, covering any skin blemishes. The real fight was with your hair, trying to style it in a proper hairstyle but you ended up straightening it into a sleek one instead. Throwing one side behind your shoulder, enough to show a glimpse of your collarbones and shining silver choker which is just imitation of diamonds, looks good enough.

"Seriously--"

Opening the door, you arch your brow in annoyance at your best friend who's pacing in front of his bathroom door. He stops, eyes trailing down your figure as you do the same with him.

You shouldn't be surprised when you're flashed with the sight in front of you. He's wearing a casual black suit, nothing special about it, but he looks fucking good. Those damn biceps bulge as his hands are tucked in the pockets of his slacks and you're trying not to stare too much at his puffed out chest and broad shoulders. The red tie matches with your dress, the one he bought for himself after you showed him the dress, making sure you both match together.

His sleek black hair is thrown back, exposing his forehead – a complete opposite of the boy with the coconut hairstyle you remember from four years ago.

"You look... good." he says, eyeing you down again as you chuckle.

"Wow, that sounded believable." you laugh at his tone, trying not to focus on the shock decorating that handsome face.

"No! I mean.. you look fucking gorgeous," he says right away, shaking his head as he finally meets your eyes with darkened gaze. "It makes me want to fuck you." he admits shamelessly, causing you to gasp in shock before a laugh erupts in your throat.

Jungkook always knew how to compliment people, he used to compliment you a lot. But with recent events and the deal you both made, he became more blunt and explicit. Is he saying that just because you started exploring each other sexually? Or he always thought of you that way? 

"Jungkook, you can't say stuff like that." you giggle, slapping his chest playfully as he grins down at you, licking those damn pink lips.

"I can," he shrugs, still grinning at you. "I'm your boyfriend."

Your heart jumps at that almost immediately. "Fake boyfriend." you remind him.

"Whatever," he rolls his eyes, arm wrapping around your waist before he dives in.

"What are you doing?" you stop him, chuckling when he frowns at your dismissal.

"I was going to kiss you." he pouts, arms slowly sliding down from your waist in disappointment.

"You're going to ruin my lipstick," you chuckle, pinching his cheek while he grunts in annoyance at you. "Now let's go. I believe you said something about being late."

Turning around, you leave him standing there but still hear faint curses thrown at your dismissal that makes you laugh. You're trying to put the heels on, glancing at Jungkook that stands there with a solid frown settled on his brows and lips.

"Don't sulk there, big boy. Come help me." you call out to him, a grin of amusement tracing your lips at the way he huffs out and makes his way to you.

You sit on the bench that serves as a shoe rack as well, before he kneels on his one knee in front of you. He delicately touches your ankle, making sure he puts the stripe around it the right way.

"Is that okay?" he asks you, eyeing your ankle to see if it's not too tight or too loose.

"Yeah," you breathe out, eyes focused on his black sleek hair meanwhile his scent causes you to mentally hum in praise. It's not too strong, but just enough for you to smell it and appreciate the expensive scent.

He does the same thing with your other leg, and when he's done you expect him to just stand up. Instead, his fingers meet your skin as he trails them up your leg, before he stops at your calf. Closely, you watch his every move while your body shivers at the feeling of his fingertips caressing your skin. He raises your leg as it becomes more visible through the cut, the dress slipping between your legs. Your breath hitches when you see him dipping down, kissing your leg as he makes his way up. He makes sure to kiss almost every inch on the way, before he stops at the top of your knee.

Deviously, he looks up, enough to show you a little smirk lingering on his lips before he stands up. He offers you his hand, enjoying how shocked with a lust in your eyes you look. You take it, not prepared to utter a single word as you let yourself be led out of Jungkook's apartment.

++

The place of Seokjin's wedding is beautiful. As expected, there's a white color everywhere although, it's matched with soft purplish color as well, creating a soft looking environment. There are flowers everywhere, making it seem like you're in one of those fairytales' forests. Even the room is huge, making you wonder how many people have been invited. Such a wedding must cost a fortune but then you remember, he owns a restaurant.

With Jungkook's hand on your lower back, he guides you through the crowd of people, greeting most of them that seem to be closer to your age with a brief greeting. You're busy looking around, barely noticing Jungkook is walking straight to Taehyung and Jimin who are already waiting for your arrival. You notice them when you hear their voices, greeting the both of you with whistles that make you roll your eyes at them.

"Yo! You guys look hot!" Taehyung calls out, hand covering his mouth to mimic his shock.

"Hey!" Jimin says right away, hugging you before he hugs Jungkook in a brief one. The same thing Taehyung does, before they start to talk about how it should start any second.

Just as they start chatting, about something you're not paying attention to, your eyes catch Kiko in the end of the room, talking with some other woman. They're all wearing pastel purple dresses, meaning they're bridesmaids. There's no doubt she's outstanding in all of them, even though their dresses are exactly the same. She looks beautiful even from a distance, and just as you look at Jungkook, you find him already looking at her.

He feels your eyes on him, but he lets his own linger on his ex-girlfriend for a few seconds before he looks at you. He gives you a weak attempt to smile, placing his hand on your lower back.

"Come on, it's about to start." he mutters gently, following Jimin and Taehyung who keep laughing about something, looking far more comfortable than you and Jungkook.

The wedding ceremony is beautiful, bringing you to the tears that you desperately try to blink away. You don't even know them personally, yet Seokjin's tears when he first sees his future wife makes you so emotional that you nibble on your bottom lip.

Surprisingly, Jungkook doesn't notice nor cares about your sniffling state, his eyes watching the ceremony the whole time. He barely budges, and when you glance at him, you know. He's low-key staring at Kiko, averting his eyes every now and then, a smart move not to look too obvious. Still, you catch him and push the urge to roll your eyes at him.

You feel a bitter taste on your tongue, mad and annoyed at your best friend for being so whipped for her. She broke up with him, broke his heart and he's still here trying to win her over. He deserves better and you wish he could see that. He's too blind in love to notice anything else. There's someone waiting out there for him, someone who will cherish him and not dump him over a dumb reason that doesn't even make sense.

The bride's vows are touching, and understandably, her long white wedding dress catches everyone's attention right away. The last wedding you've been to was when you were six years old, so you barely remember anything about it. But this wedding is one of the most beautiful weddings for sure, even though you haven't experienced that many of them.

The bride – Kiko's best friend – says her vows with a shaky voice, causing her best friend to wipe her tears as other bridesmaids try to cheer her up.

Noticing Jungkook's twitching hands, it's almost as if he wants to run towards her and be the one who embraces her shaky and emotional form.

You hate how bitter it makes you, but you swallow that feeling and clench your jaw instead.

As much as beautiful this wedding is, you can't wait for it to be over.

After you congratulate the newlyweds, it's time for the fun part – as most people call it – but you find yourself fake smiling at everyone Jungkook introduces to you.

However, your whole body stiffens when you see Hoseok walking up to you, to the group of people that Jungkook talks with. You saw him standing beside Seokjin at the ceremony, being his best man, but you avoided even looking his way. There's just something about him – like he can see right through you and the web of lies you and Jungkook created.

"Hey, everyone. Having fun?" he cheerfully calls out, arm slinging around Jimin's shoulder as he smiles at everyone.

A bunch of cheerful greetings can be heard from Jungkook's friends and Jungkook himself, luckily your lack of response to him is blending with others' voices. Everyone seems to be in a great mood, which is understandable, something that can't be said about you. You're standing next to Jungkook's side, a glass of wine in one hand as you silently sip from it every few seconds, with unbothered gaze.

Even though you appear to be unbothered, you're glad that you've blended with the crowd and nobody directly talks to you. Well, that's until Hoseok's voice resounds, shutting up everyone in the circle as they look at you.

"What about you, Y/N? Are you having fun?"

He smiles at you, silently taking a sip from his own wine, as his eyes stay glued to you.

Devil.

He looks innocent but you notice the glint in his dark eyes as he stares at you. What's his problem?

Jungkook glances at you, his shoulder brushing against yours and if there weren't so many eyes on you, he'd probably nudge you from your frozen state. Mustering one of your fake smiles, you smile at the man in black suit.

"I do, the ceremony was beautiful."

At least half of it is true.

You glance at Seokjin who gives you an appreciative smile your way, and you return it.

"Jungkook's next." he jokes, making you widen your eyes as Jungkookś choking fills the silence.

"What?" he manages to croak out, mouth widening at his friend that smirks.

"Well, you're the only one with a girlfriend," he says, pointing with a glass of wine towards you as you look at Jungkook. Your eyes meet before Seokjin adds; "When's the wedding?"

You hear the teasing in his voice, erupting an automatic reaction from you and Jungkook as you look at each other. One look into his eyes, and the both of you snort and start to laugh at the silly idea. Jungkook's scrunched nose and crinkled eyes with his bubbly voice, mixed with your laugh and hand clutching his shoulder for support, is enough to leave the whole group of Jungkook's friends speechless. They stare at you as if you were crazy, eyeing the both of you and nothing clicks inside your head, not until you see Hoseok.

He raises his brow at you with a total straight face, almost staring at you with an attitude that makes your laugh die down.

Oh, shit.

You're supposed to look like you're in love, not snorting and laughing right into their faces at the mention of the wedding. You know Seokjin was just teasing – however, you're not sure the same thing can be said about Hoseok – but that's what made your reaction even more weird.

Whipping your head in Jungkook's direction, your eyes meet and even though he looks completely neutral, you know he caught onto their stares as well. How could he not? They're literally staring at you with confused expressions, wondering what the hell just happened.

"Hyung," Jungkook chuckles, but you can tell it's strained and not natural. "We just started dating. Slow steps, right, baby?"

Staring into his crinkled eyes, you hide the shock when he pulls you closer, his arms securely wrapped around your hips as you bump into his side.

"Jin, look at her. You scared the poor woman." One of their friends snickers, jokingly poking Seokjin's shoulder as he grins but looks at you with apologetic eyes.

"Sorry, it was supposed to be a joke." he says, but you wave your hand.

"It just shocked me, it's okay. We haven't got to the point of discussing wedding plans yet, even though he was on his knees today." you let out a mere chuckle, trying to joke which proves to be successful when you hear their laughter.

"Well, excuse us," Jungkook says, hand delicately placed against your lower back. "I need a dance with my woman."

My woman. Oh my--

Giving your empty glass to the waiter that passes by, he leads you towards the dance floor, hand still pressed against your lower back making you shiver. His chest is almost pressed against your back, you can feel him just behind you, and when he finally stops you turn around. Taking your hand with the same gentleness like when he had led you to the dance floor, he places the other one against your hip. Your body reacts automatically, you place your hand against his shoulder, appreciating how soft his suit jacket feels.

But that's not what makes your heartbeat echo in your ears.

It's his dark eyes that stare right back into yours, a softest smile adoring his lips. The weirdest warm feeling fills your chest and you almost panic, wondering why the fuck he affects you so much. There is a need to know what he's thinking right now, if he can feel the same thing or something similar to it.

You watch him lick his bottom lip, smirking down at you – almost as if he could read your mind.

A low chuckle leaves his mouth, before he opens his mouth and you wonder what he's about to say.

"Almost got caught, huh?" he chuckles, talking about what just happened.

And you can feel it. The way your heart flutters, but not with the same warm feeling, but met with coldness instead. Not realizing your deadpan expression, you see Jungkook cocking his head to the side, swaying his body along with yours.

Mustering the best smile, you let out a dry chuckle. "Yeah, imagine that."

Before he can study your weird expression and non-verbal response, you lean your cheek against his shoulder, inhaling his scent. He doesn't question it, but you feel him pressing a soft kiss into your hair.

The gentle piano music is calm, contrasting with your beating heart, but you let yourself relax in his hold.

Eyes dancing at the guests, your breath is almost knocked out of your chest. Hoseok sits on one of the bar stools, his body turned to the dance floor as he takes a glass of wine from the bar. Looking right back at you, he raises his brow along with the glass, smirking before he gulps it down.

You've no idea why, but you feel like the two of you are utterly fucked.

#networkbangtan #ksmutclub #ficswithluv #btswritingcafe #bts smut #jungkook x reader #bts au #bts fluff #bts angst #jungkook fanfic #personasintro

[mikasa-imadebiscults]

“My Beautiful Tesoro”

(A/N- FELLOW DONNA SIMPS HERE YOU GO!! I love Donna so fucking much, she’s taken over my brain)

Resident Lover! Donna Beneviento x FEM! Reader

(Warning: Smut, swearing, mentions of insecurities, body worship, and pussy eating 😏)

Now playing: “Something About You” by Eyedress

Your girlfriend, Donna Beneviento, was the absolute definition of perfection. Her calm voice that’s so loving sounding when she praising you, her gorgeous scar that goes around her right eye, and let’s not forget about those sexy hands of hers. Whenever she’s feeling insecure about anything you’re always right there to confidently remind her about all her perfectness.

Unfortunately when it comes to you, you can’t seem to reassure yourself. You can’t shake off the insecure feelings and the terrible thoughts that fill your mind. Donna deserves better, you foolishly believe.

“Why must I look like this?” You questioned your reflection, looking at your pitiful body with tears developing in your eyes.

You close your eyes and rub your temples, tears roll down your cheeks as your thoughts become worse. “What? Beautiful?” You hear a calm voice say and felt a pair of strong arms wrap around your waist.

“Donna?! When did you get here? I thought you left to go to the shop.” You questioned, heart racing because of the scare.

“It doesn’t matter. Now tell me tesoro why are you being so harsh to yourself?” Donna muffles into your neck, upset that you don’t see your body like she sees it.

“Uhhh- well..I-” You stumble on your words, taking a deep breath before continuing “I just..feel a bit insecure..that’s all.” You confess as you feel Donna hold you tighten.

“Oh dear, damn that confused mind of yours for telling you all those untruthful thoughts. Say, cara mia, do you mind if I show you how much you mean to me?” Donna patiently asks, awaiting for your consent to move forward to something more..eventful.

“I definitely don’t mind, love.” You grant permission, smiling at your lover through the mirror.

Donna smiles into your neck, but the smile fades slowly as she kisses your neck tenderly, making your body heat up as she finds your sensitive spot with ease. She bites the skin, holding back a smirk when you let out a relieved sigh at the feeling.

She guides you to the shared bed which happens to be only a few steps from the tall mirror. You sit on the edge of the bed, watching as Donna takes off her maroon-colored gloves and throws them on the end table, revealing her hands to you.

Donna steps closer to you, grabbing your hand to place a short but lingering kiss on it, pulling away but still holding that same hand. God you loved her hands, not to mention her long fingers that take care of you in more ways than one. You could hold her hands all day long if you could.

“Strip from your clothes my dear.” She says softly but you can hear her loud and clear.

You obey her, letting go of her hand to take off your clothes as she watches you intently, admiring you even. You feel embarrassed by this but you can’t deny that the attentive stare is heating up your core.

Donna notices this and smirks, “Oh? Someone’s getting all hot and bothered.” She teases.

You have your clothes completely off now. Donna gets closer to you to bring you into a slow but passionate kiss, your thighs squeeze against each other to get some sort of pleasure down there. Pulling away to trail kisses all across your jawline and skips down to your chest, kissing where your heart lives “You’re so beautiful, dear. My life would be so boring if you weren’t here.” She stated softly, gratitude evident in her voice.

Donna gets on her knees and puts your legs on her shoulders, her hands holding your legs firmly on her shoulders. She kisses your inner thighs, biting the sensitive skin, making you moan. Donna loves all the noises you make during these intimate moments. She desires to hear them all day everyday.

“Please do tell me if it gets too overwhelming, cara mia.” Donna says, making direct eye contact with you, searching for any signs of discomfort.

You nod your head in acknowledgment, giving her the approval to keep going. Donna smiles before diving into one of her favorite meals, savoring this moment. You let out a loud breathtaking moan when you felt Donna’s tongue swirl around your clit. What a lot of people didn’t know about Donna was that not only is she skilled at using her fingers, she is also skilled at using her tongue too.

She wasted no time to wrap her lips on your clit to suck on the very sensitive nerve. “Ahh~ h-holy shit Donna~” you gasped as you experience waves of pleasure. Donna moans at the bittersweet taste of you, sending vibrations to your clit, causing an even louder noise to erupt from your throat.

You’re getting closer and closer to your orgasm as Donna continues her skillful motions. “Come on beautiful, cum for me.” She mumbles into your clit, sending more vibrations causing your climax to finally hit you. You yell out her name and squeeze your thighs tightly against her head, making Donna’s own core wet from how turned on she is.

As you start to slowly calm down from your climax, you let go of her hair and relax your shaky thighs a bit. Donna takes your legs off her shoulders to stand up and bring you into a soft embrace. She traces different types of flowers and plants on your skin until your breathing evens out.

She kisses your lips, “I’ll be right back darling. I just need to get something.” She says before leaving the room. She comes back in about five minutes with a tall glass of water in her hand.

“With all that moaning you did, I figured you needed it.” She teased, receiving an eye roll from you, making her giggle.

“There’s been a change of plans, instead of running the shop today is gonna be a you day. Whatever you want you get, understand?” Donna says in a caring tone, you know you can’t change her mind on this so you agree.

You take her hand and bring it to your lips, kissing her fingers before saying “Anything I want?” You try to seem all innocent, which that didn’t work since Donna got the message.

“Yes, anything for you love.”

Smiling at this, you think of all the things you and Donna can do today. All of your insecurities that filled your mind this morning had seemingly disappeared and that’s all thanks to your wonderful girlfriend. You can’t thank her enough, not only because she saved you from your tormenting thoughts but because she’s alive and here with you. The both of you will always be together forever until death pulls you apart.

....

#EAT UP DONNA LOVERS #I hope y’all enjoy this #Gotta feed the Donna lovers #>:) #resident lover #resident evil fanfiction #donna beneviento #donna beneviento x reader #donna beneviento smut #donna x reader #donna smut