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reidmotif · 9 months

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Popsicle Love

Summary: Reader and Spencer are at a ridiculously hot precinct station, getting on each other's nerves arguing. Reader realizes she can get back at him, using a certain sweet treat.

Prompt: Spencer can't deal with how much Reader loves popsicles/ice cream cones

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warning: Reader POV, rough sex, hair-pulling, dom!Spencer, coworker relationship, oral sex (m receiving), fingering (f receiving) , dirty talk, heavy making-out, unprotected penetrative sex, bathroom sex, hate-fucking, pure smut

Word Count: 3.2k

“It is too fucking hot for this” was my first thought as he began talking to me. Fuck Spencer Reid, because he was the who decided that today, in the sweltering Georgia heat, was the day he would annoy the ever-loving shit out of me.

“You’re going about this all wrong!” Spencer said, rolling his eyes. His sleeves were pulled up, and there was anger in his eyes. I crossed my legs, feeling my skirt ride up but I honestly couldn’t care less. It was scorching, and I was determined to not lose this argument to Reid. I let out a breath of air, meeting him with my own annoyed, exasperated expression.

“Reid, you’re being absolutely childish right now.” I retorted. “Sort through the paperwork first, then analyze it! Not everyone wants to do things the way you insist on doing them!” I say, furrowing my brows.

“Not everyone can.” He says, cockily, a smirk gracing his lips. That motherfucker.

I was about to get up and honestly hit him square in the jaw, half from my delusion in the heat, and half from how fucking smug he sounded. I wanted to knock that smirk off his face, and maybe ruin that pretty smile of his in the process, just as an added bonus.

Thankfully, before I could do anything rash that would definitely result in me losing my job, one of the officers of the station quickly came to interrupt us.

“Hey, one of the officers brought in popsicles. If any of y’all would like any, they’re in the breakroom.” She said, turning away. Thank God for Southern hospitality, I suppose.

I sighed, getting up from my spot. Spencer and I clearly weren’t getting anywhere when it came to our disagreements, and that’s how it was, and how it would remain to be. The man was a pain-in-the-fucking ass, and it was an honest shame, considering the fact he was actually pretty hot, especially when his mouth wasn’t moving.

Spencer walked ahead of me, the idea of something to cool him down enticing him just as much as it did me. We reached the breakroom and he opened the freezer, taking out the box of popsicles, and looking into it. He pulled out two, presumably one for me, and one for him.

“Blue or red?” He says, holding out the brightly colored packages, offering me a choice of one.

“Red.” I say, reaching over with no hesitation and grabbing the red-colored packaging in his hand. “Duh.” I added, starting to unwrap the treat. “It’s the best flavor.”

He scoffed a little, opening up his own, blue package, and I rolled my eyes at the sound.

“What, are you going to argue with me about my choices in popsicle flavor too now?” I say, with a disbelieving tone.

“No, it’s nothing,” He says, shrugging, with that same, shit-eating, self-satisfied grin.

God, I hated him.

I gave a deep exhale through my nose, forcing myself to calm down. I decided it’d be for the best if I walked out, left him here alone to avoid another fight. He called out before I could even walk two steps.

“You have to eat here.” He said, taking licks at his popsicle. “The officers- they’re old fashioned. I don’t know.” He adds, “If you wanna be yelled at though, be my guest.”

I grumbled internally at that, but I knew he was right. I didn’t want to be yelled at.

I took my place, leaning against a table that had been placed in the breakroom and taking my own popsicle out of the packaging, beginning to eat it. I sighed happily as I felt the taste settle on my tongue, the coolness blooming throughout my mouth. I began by licking the sides before taking it in my mouth. I suckled for a minute, and I could feel it already melting down my fingers a bit, due to the heat in the station. I released the popsicle in my mouth with a pop, before going to lick the sticky residue off my fingers. It was a little childish, sure, but it was hot and it wasn’t like anyone was watching me. I continued this cycle, softly sucking at the popsicle and wrapping my tongue around it until I heard what sounded like ... a whimper from across the room? I let my eyes drift up, noticing a seemingly flustered Spencer in the corner of my eye. He leaned away from me, crossing his legs. I knitted my brows, before putting the pieces together, realizing what had happened.

He was a guy, after all. And I suppose the way I was eating my popsicle could come off as suggestive, but come on! How else was I meant to eat it? And armed with the knowledge that my innocent action was enough to provoke him, I decided a little more intent in my movement couldn’t hurt.

I began to take the popsicle a little more vigorously, bobbing my head a bit. My lips wrapped around the treat, and I could feel Spencer’s eyes shamelessly on me and internally grinned. Good. He had annoyed me all day, and the idea of him dealing with a hard-on with no way to relieve himself was definitely karmic justice in my eyes. I closed my eyes, savoring the taste, but also in the way I could feel Spencer shifting around, trying to hide what seemed like a fast-growing erection. When I hollowed out my cheeks, and swirled my tongue around the sweetness in my mouth, I could hear a sound from the back of his throat escaping his lips. I let the popsicle out of my mouth, and in that moment, a melted chunk seemed to fall off, landing itself on my chest. I hissed, feeling the coldness of the tacky liquid running down my bare skin.

“Shit.” I said, trying to flick off the liquid off my hands and realizing I’d need to clean myself up. I dropped the remainder of the popsicle in the trash, not bothering to look back, before I walked over to the bathroom. I let out a breath of air as I opened the door to the precinct bathroom, looking at my chest and sighing, grabbing a handful of paper towels to run under the sink to wash myself with.

Before I could do that though, I heard the door swing open, and saw through the mirror it was none other than Spencer Reid. I crossed my arms, putting my back to the counter of the sink as I turned around to look him up and down.

“What are you doing here?” I remarked, with a displeased tone.

He looked absolutely furious, and there was a slight part of me that was excited, knowing I could rile him up like this. He was breathing heavily, and moving closer to me, trapping me in between the counter and his body, and what felt like a very noticeable hardness pressing against my thigh.

“The better question is, what the fuck are you doing?” He asked, his tone low and menacing.

I rolled my eyes, before feigning a look of innocence, making my eyes wide. “What do you mean, Spencer?”

“You know exactly what I mean.” He responds, gripping a piece of hair at the back of my skull and pulling slightly, forcing me to bare my neck to him. “Where do you get off doing something like that to me, huh?” He murmurs, leaning closer and letting his lips brush over the shell of my ear.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I retorted hastily, but I could hear the shakiness in my voice. The way he was speaking, the pull he had on my hair- it thrilled me, and contributed to a growing heat between my legs.

He pushed himself further and further against me, and I could feel his erection against my thigh even more so than before, and felt my stomach flutter at the feeling. My jaw dropped a bit, letting out a soft sigh, sensitive to the sensation.

“Oh is that right?” Spencer replies, nodding as he spoke a little cruelly. “You like acting like this? Like a goddamn slut?” He grunts out. He twists and pulls my hair a little more, eliciting a soft moan from my lips.

“You like it when I pull on your pretty hair like that?” He said, snarking the words at me. “Like how wet I make you?” He whispered, venom in his voice.

Without warning, he placed his fingers at the growing wet patch at my underwear, roughly pushing it aside before starting to rub harsh, tight circles around my clit. I nearly lost my mind at the sensation, nearly doubling over with pleasure.

I whimpered softly, and I could feel his smirk as he started to kiss up and down my neck. “So wet for me, mm?” He says, starting to move his fingers faster over my swollen clit. “I’ve barely touched you. You’re fucking needy for me, yeah?”

I groaned, not processing enough of what he was saying to warrant a response. My brain was foggy from how good he was making me feel. I tried to not think about the fact that this was Spencer, the Spencer who’d annoyed me from the moment I’d joined the BAU. The Spencer I despised, the one I was supposed to hate- but here was, making me orgasm in a precinct bathroom with his fingers alone.

He rubbed a bit faster, before thrusting two fingers into my needy cunt. I moaned again, louder, and he responded by burying his fingers even deeper into my core, pumping harshly. I could feel the room spinning, gripping onto the counter behind me to stabilize me as my orgasm began to approach me rapidly. He watched me intently, his gaze hot and intense before smirking. “Come for me. Come all over my fingers, (Y/N).” He whispered.

I did, nearly on command, convulsing against him as I felt myself clench around his long, slender digits, my moans reverberating around the small space.

He withdrew his fingers suddenly, leaving me painfully empty before he began to grab my face roughly, forcing me to look at him.

“Say that you want this, bitch.” He whispers harshly, pulling my hair and eliciting yet another moan from me as he pushed me up against the counter.

“Spencer..” I murmured, feeling my knees go a bit weak at how roughly he was manhandling me. He spun our positions around, and I felt him using the grip on my hair to push me down to my knees.

“Say it!” He said, a little more firmly now. “I need to hear you say it.”

I felt the desperation in his tone, weakly looking up at him from this angle before I nodded quickly.

“I want you. I want this.” I wailed, arousal coursing through my veins. I no longer cared about the humiliation of letting him use me like this. I wanted to chase this feeling forever, wanted to be at his mercy for as long as he wanted, as long as he could continue to make me feel this good.

I felt him groan above me, before he pulled me closer to his bulge, raising an eyebrow. He looked absolutely wild from here, sweat dripping down from his brow, and sleeves pushed up. He breathed heavily, his chest heaving up and down.

“Go on then. This is what you wanted, wasn’t it?” He mocked, but I could tell his voice was strained with the exact same need I was feeling in the moment.

I gave no protest, using my deft fingers to quickly undo his slacks, pulling them down along with his boxers, watching his heavy cock bob in the air for a moment, before looking up at him, my jaw slightly agape.

Was this really happening?

He nodded, as if to give me an okay, and I didn’t need any more encouragement than that. I swirled my tongue around his tip, watching in fascination as I heard a groan from him, his head falling back as he moaned. “Fuck, (Y/N). Just like that.”

I grew bolder with his praise. I began to take more of him in my mouth, using my hands where my tongue wouldn’t reach. I gripped and worked his base, while suckling on what my mouth could reach. As I got used to the intrusion in my mouth, I moved down slowly, eventually taking the whole of him. He moaned loudly at this, and gripped my hair tighter, starting to move me up and down his cock. I relaxed the muscles in my mouth, letting him use me as he pleased. I watched from the lower angle the best I could, the sight of him coming undone at my mouth absolutely gorgeous. I could feel the tears pooling in the corner of my eyes, the saliva dripping down from my mouth and covering my chest. I wanted to watch him fall apart, to be at my mercy just as much as I was at his.

He moaned at the feeling, and I could feel myself get wetter at the sound. “Oh fuck. You feel so fucking good.” He groaned out, before grabbing my hair yet again, and holding my head in place. He started to fuck my throat roughly, and the tears began to flow a little more rapidly, feeling the pooling of saliva down my chin as I felt him hit the back of my throat.

“You like this, huh?” He teased from above, between pants and sighs. “Wanted me all riled up, so we could do this, right?”

I nodded desperately, incoherent begs and whines coming from my mouth before he pulled me off with a tug. I felt delightfully dirty, as he forced me up again and kissed me roughly. I barely registered him turning us around in my lustful stupor, bending me mercilessly against the sink and lifting up my skirt, pulling my underwear down in a clean swoop. I could feel him squeezing the fat of my hips and moaned at the way he controlled me so easily, to which he let out a smug chuckle.

He gripped my hair again, pulling my head up and forcing me to look at myself. We looked sinful, his cock pressing against my wet folds, teasing me.

“See that? You look like a fucking whore.” He snarled, breathing heavily.

I wasn’t going to let him win so easily. Even though I wanted the same things as him, I knew the more I teased him, the better I’d get from him. I raised an eyebrow and breathlessly murmured, “Are you going to stand there and look at me, or are you going to fuck me, Reid?”

He bared his teeth at me, thrusting into me roughly with no warning. “Oh, you wanna be fucked? Then take it.” He groaned, starting to buck his hips against me like a man possessed.

I moaned at the sudden feeling, letting my jaw drop fully to let out all my noises. I could feel the slaps of his skin against mine, and the smell of sex filling up the small space. His fingers gripped so tightly into my stomach I swear I could feel the bruises already blooming over my stomach. I let him fill me up, his thick cock passing through me roughly, over and over again.

“So fucking warm and wet. You feel..” He paused, moaning and jutting against me faster. “So fucking good.”

I could see the sweat dripping down his brow, and the way it collected down his neck. In this moment though, the only heat I could focus on was no longer the one around us, but the one that came from every brutal pass of his cock, creating a delicious burn I reveled in with every moment he stayed inside me. I moaned loudly, feeling myself get hotter and hotter with every second.

I watched through the mirror as he fucked me into the counter with no restraint, his head thrown back, eyes shut as he continued to use me, plowing into me from behind. I could feel my knees getting weaker, feeling his cock twitch inside of me as I arched my back to take more of him. He groaned at the sensation of him bottoming out, the rhythm of his hips becoming irregular as he continued to rut into me. I rolled my hips against him, hoping to spur on our impending releases. He thrust into me once or twice , until I felt him come with a loud moan, a familiar warmth pooling into my deepest point, but even then his hips didn't still. He fucked his own arousal into me, and I could feel my orgasm rapidly approaching, his lazy thrusts doing me in, and soon enough I was spasming over his cock, moaning loudly.

He pulled out of me, and my eyes fluttered shut at the sudden emptiness. I could feel his cum dripping down my leg, and his eyes watching in fascination as the mixture of both of our releases leaked out of me. He pulled up my underwear, immediately soaking up the liquids, and I groaned at the feeling. He pulled me up, leaning me against the sink.

I watched as he panted against the sink, and I swear, I would’ve fallen over without his steady grip on my hips. He and I were both flushed, my hair absolutely ruined from how hard he’d been pulling it, my tear-stained face still contorted in an expression of pleasure as we both recovered from the highs of our orgasms.

“Did I hurt you?” He asks, in between his breaths, looking genuinely concerned. “I wasn’t too rough, was I?”

I laughed a little bit at that, shaking my head. “You were the perfect amount of rough. Don’t worry.” I say, waving him off a little, assuring him that I got just as much out of this as he did.

As he tucked himself back into his pants, he grinned at me for seemingly no reason. I met his eyes with a confused expression, raising an eyebrow, pressing my lips together. “What are you grinning about?” I ask, trying to fix my hair as I look at him.

He walked over to me, turning me to face the mirror. I felt his chest against my back, and one of his large hands came to wrap themselves around me, before he ghosted a finger over my chest and whispered against my ear. “You still have some of that goddamn popsicle on you.” He says, trying not to laugh.

I rolled my eyes, chuckling a bit as I remembered the entire reason he’d been provoked to do this, and went to go finally wipe off the sticky residue once and for all. “Oh yeah. Popsicle.” I said, teasingly.

“Never do that again.” He says, starting to move away from me as he worked on making himself presentable enough to leave the bathroom with me.

I paused, turning around to look at him, still appearing completely fucked out and dazed as I smirked a bit. “If it gets you to fuck me like that? No promises.”

wow! a short fic from me?! crazy!! i wanted to try my hand at writing something smutty, but short. this was specifically written for @imagining-in-the-margins summer sunshine challenge, so go check that out :3 thank you for any likes, reblogs or comments. <3 i'm eternally thankful

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds self insert #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #smut #writing prompt #writing challenge #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #mentioningmargins

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gb-patch · 4 months

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GB Patch Games: 2024 Intentions

[Adorable guest art by @dreamtydraw]

Welcome to 2024, everybody 🥳️

This is the year of Our Life: Now & Forever (and 2025 will be too, but let's not get ahead of ourselves that much). After a good five odd years of making Our Life: Beginnings & Always content, it's amazing to look ahead and see only the progress that will be done on this new game. Qiu and Tamarack are the center of the GB Patch Games universe now. But even though I'm not creating any new OL1 scenes, there may still be some exciting developments for the existing stuff. Cove hasn't been forgotten.

💚❤️️💙

If you want to know about what will be accomplished specifically in January, you can read that HERE. Now here's the entire year's goals-

Honestly, 2024 is gonna be the most basic year in a very long time, haha. There's not gonna be major launches of new DLCs, or a full game going live, or any bonus Moments. It's simply making progress on OL: N&F. That's pretty normal for game development. It's just not something we've had to go through since 2019. But we're hunkering down for the long haul on this one.

Specifically, Step 1 will be fully completed in 2024 and I'll make as much headway into Step 2 as possible. There will be two updates to the public demo, one probably in May and another sometime in Fall/Third Quarter 2024. Those will focus on Step 1 scenes still. I can't guarantee we'll be able to rework the Step 2 part of the demo with new content this year. As it is, the content was made to be a demo preview. A lot is gonna change for the complete version.

And that's about it for our main game. I appreciate all of you who decide to follow along with the process.

Beyond that, the Our Life: Beginnings & Always digital artbook is going to become available through Steam and Itch.io in early 2024! Maybe not January, but ideally no later than February.

Finger's crossed, we will also launch Our Life: Beginnings & Always for Mac on Steam and make it available for Androids through the Google Playstore. I can't state it with confidence, since there's constantly been roadblocks/issues with those, aha.

My final little note for this coming year is that, potentially, there could be more information coming out about the game that's going into production after OL2, "Project W".

▴ ▾ ▴ ▾ ▴ ▾ ▴ ▾ ▴ ▾ ▴ ▾ ▴ ▾ ▴ ▾ ▴ ▾ ▴ ▾ ▴ ▾ ▴ ▾▴ ▾ ▴

And that's what you can look forward to. Every year I'm amazed I can continue to do this as my fulltime job. I'm always wondering when that will end, but I'd be lying if I said I could see that point. The support GB Patch Games has gotten, and still gets each day, is more than enough to for it to continue for the rest of OL2's development.

I'm pretty confident in assuming that when that game does launch it's going to be successful enough for Project W to go into full production. It's a truly wonderful thing. Thank you so much for being here. We'll do our best with the time and attention you've given us.

Happy New Year 🥰️

#our life #visual novel #dating sim #interactive fiction #our life: now & forever #our life: beginnings & always #gb patch #gb patch games

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ponderingmoonlight · 5 months

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Gojo dressing up as Santa for his girlfriend, Megumi and Tsumiki

Pairing: Gojo x girlfriend!reader; dad!Gojo x Megumi and Tsumiki

Word Count: 1,1k

Synopsis: Satoru Gojo expected a lot of things, but not his girlfriend and two rescued kids making fun of him after he put on a Santa costume only for them.

Warnings: fluffness overload, there's absolutely not enough content for the dynamic between Gojo and his kids in the manga so we'll make our own, a little bit of spicy mentions especially in the bonus material so be prepared for cheeky Gojo

„I thought I told you I don’t want you to dress up as Santa in bed, Satoru. How many times do I have to tell you that this doesn’t turn me on at all?”, you moan, eyes roaming all over your beloved boyfriend.

There he stands, wearing a bright red costume, a way too big hat and the worst fake looking beard you have ever seen. What the hell has gotten into him again?

He turns around, sly grin beaming your way. At least that pants seem to fit him pretty well, they really bring out his strong legs and well, that special part between his legs. Huh, maybe it doesn’t look as off-turning as you thought it would…

“For once, I’m not doing this for you. Don’t you ever think about the kids, (y/n)?”, he teases you.

The kids? Does he talk about Megumi and Tsumiki? No, he absolutely can’t. Out of all people, your boyfriend should know best that Megumi will probably leave and never return if he sees Satoru dressed up like this. And Tsumiki? Well, she might not be as harsh as Megumi, but even she will just stare at him bamboozled. Yes, those kids aren’t particularly joyful when it comes to Satoru’s goofy side and everyone knows.

Except for him, apparently.

“The kids will hate you for this”, you clarify, fingers getting stuck in the fake hair of his beard.

He draws you closer, arms wrapping around you tightly while the poor fabric of his costume scratches against your cheek.

“You just can’t accept that they love me more than you. Just watch and see the magic in their eyes.”

A huff escapes your lips, head shaking by itself. Oh, you’ll definitely watch as he makes a fool out of himself in front of the kids. This will be fun.

-later-

“Hey (y/n), where is that freak?”, Megumi greets you, neatly dropping his schoolbag into the same spot as usual.

“Come on, Megumi-chan, don’t call him that”, you softly reply.

“I have no idea, I haven’t seen him since morning.”

“(y/n)!”, Tsumiki cries out and runs into your open arms instantly.

What a sweet girl she is. Despite the fact that both her mother and father are gone, she always wears a wide grin on her face, embracing you in a hug whenever she lays her eyes on you. Megumi on the other hand, just stares at you from afar with his arms crossed in front of his chest. How is it possible for siblings to be this different?

“Why do you talk about him this way, Megumi? Don’t you know we would have never met (y/n) if it wasn’t for him?”, Megumi’s sister reproves him in an instant.

“Huh, you’re right about that”, the petite boy mumbles to himself, eyes set on you.

“Ho ho ho children.”

You blink a few times, the voice behind the closed door being pitched so ridiculously low that your cheeks redden. He told you he’ll surprise the kids today, you should have seen it coming after he tried on that strange suit this morning. But to be honest, you hoped it was just to mess with you, that he was just playing around a little.

Until the door swings open and reveals Satoru Gojo in a Santa costume, wearing his iconic pair of sunglasses.

“You can’t be serious about that”, Megumi mumbles in the corner.

You don’t know what to do. Dying of laughter or dying of embarrassment? By the way he steps into the middle of the room with boots that look way too similar to the ones you just bought a few months ago, you have no time to think about that.

“Since I know (y/n) is always naughty, I’m here to check if at least you kids have been good this year”, he announces.

It’s hard to keep the corners of your mouth from shooting up and to suppress the little giggle that creeps up your throat. But there you stand, smiling like an idiot while shaking your head, watching the priceless drop on Megumi’s cute little face.

“You’ve got to be kidding, right?”

Tsumiki lets go of you, blinking over and over in an attempt to understand what’s going on. Everybody just stands dead still in their tracks, staring at what’s definitely Satoru Gojo in front of them.

“I see, you’re a feisty one, little man. Watch how you speak to someone my age!”

“You’re 18.”

“I AM NOT! LOOK AT MY WHITE BEARD.”

Tsumiki is the first one to break with a squeal, holding onto your body for hold while shaking uncontrollably in laughter.

“This isn’t funny, young lady!”, Satoru’s low voice speaks out harshly.

He sends you over the edge. Your little giggle escalates into loud laughter, making your stomach ache so badly that tears run down your cheeks.

“You look ridiculous. Take that off.”

With a swift motion, Megumi pulls down the fake beard that was set in place by a cheap elastic, exposing the pout of pure outrage on Satoru’s lovely face. Oh, how much you love that man. The man who lost it all last year, the man who cared about those kids he didn’t even knew enough to basically adopt them, the man who does everything to make Megumi’s and Tsumiki’s life as pleasant as possible.

Even if it means dressing up as Santa.

“Huh, how did you get it was me?!”

“Are you kidding? You’re even wearing your sunglasses, idiot.”

“HOW DARE YOU TO CALL YOUR DAD IDIOT, I RAISED YOU-“

“Raised me? You know me since last year!”

“He would never admit it, but I know that he really admires Satoru from deep down”, Tsumiki suddenly hushes into your ear.

You wipe your tears away, observing the scene laying itself out in front of you with a wide smile. It’s not a secret to anyone in this room that life has its ups and downs, that everything is shitty from time to time. But precious moments of joy like this that make even Megumi turn away with an ever so slight grin make you realize what life really is about.

“I think you were quite convincing”, you comment sarcastically.

“You…It was your fault! You told them about my surprise!”, your boyfriend cries out overdramatically.

It takes him not even seconds to be by your side, grabbing you by your waist and tickling your over-sensitive spots he knows so well.

“Stop! I didn’t do anything!”, you shout between multiple giggles, tears of joy streaming down your face all over again.

“B-but…I like that suit better than I thought.”

His hands stop immediately, eyes darkening in an instant.

“Is that so, huh? Maybe I can show it off better in the bedroom.”

“Yeah, maybe…”

“Come on, Megumi. Time to go”, Tsumiki hisses, dragging her brother out of the room by his small hand.

-dirty bonus-

"Tsumiki?", Megumi mumbles muted.

"Yeah, what is it?"

"Do you think (y/n) is okay?"

Tsumiki blinks into the darkness around her, trying to understand what her little brother means by his words.

"She definetely was when Satoru dressed up as Santa. Why?"

"When I went to the toilet, I heard her screaming. She even screamed his name. I guess I'm just a little...worried. Do you think we should go check-"

"NO", Tsumiki interrupts him immediately, her face heating up in an instant.

Oh god.

"Absolutely not. Just stay here and try to sleep."

"But what if-"

"NO. And never tell me about something like this again!"

Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso @gojosrealwife @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain @risuola @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez

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rodolfoparras · 8 months

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Thinking about Price and the kinks he likes to indulge in

Pairing: John Price x Top Male reader

Content tags: 18+, MINORS DNI, blowjobs, anal sex, hard dom! Male reader, sub! Price, possessiveness, make up sex, price likes to be photographed while nude?

Thinking about Price, who’s set on keeping his private life and work life separated, but then there’s a drawer in his desk, containing an album full of Polaroid pics, taken of him in many different obscene positions.

There’s one that’s taken in his dorm, with Price on all four, orange sunlight beaming over his skin, and with cum smeared between his thighs and cheeks. His neck is cranked to face the lens and there’s a dopey smile on his face.

BACK IN THE BARRACKS

It had been a long day at work, with him feeling more frustrated than usual. He had showed up to your room acting like a dark cloud was clinging onto his form.

You had offered to help him unwind, shoved him onto the bed and made him cum multiple times. There was one point where his body felt separated from his mind, feeling everything and nothing all at once. In the haze he heard your voice, honey coated words telling him to “turn around John”

He hadn’t even had the time to process, body reacting on reflex as a flash passed by his eyes and before he knew of it you had a nude Polaroid of him laying around.

Soon enough another Polaroid joined the ever growing collection.

There’s nothing tender about the picture. Your tags hang around his throat, with you clutching onto them to pull him closer for the shot. His skin is all marked up, lips rubbed red and eyes wide, as he takes your cock as far down his throat as he can.

A MOUTHFUL AND A HANDFUL

He doesn’t remember if you’d been in the middle of an argument, Polaroid taken amidst a moment of what was supposed to be make up sex but he remembers the flux of emotions bubbling in his gut, voice hoarse from continuously sucking on your cock with black and blue knees that was a result from the minutes spent kneeling.

Despite the rough vibe he didn’t mind, wanted to please you as much as he could even when you stripped him off of his title as captain and lover and treated him nothing but a gaping hole meant for your pleasure only.

Then a third Polaroid joined the collection, one he’s very much fond of.

It’s a picture of him sprawled out on your sheets, wearing nothing but a shirt with your last name on it. His legs are spread obscenely wide, and there’s a teal green plug nestled inside his ass, with streaks of cum staining the black material of the shirt.

MY JOHN

That day he remembers well, a shot prompted by your jealousy. Someone had attempted to flirt with Price, which wasn’t a crime, since they didn’t know he was a taken man. That’s at least what he had said when you had confronted him about it but you hadn’t been able to let it go especially when the person had been set on taking him out to dinner.

He had declined of course, showed up to your room to sooth the burn but didn’t know he’d be engulfed in the flames as soon as he had crossed the threshold.

You had pinned him to the bed, face determined and goal set. You were going to remind your boyfriend that you could offer him everything he’d ever need whether that be with three fingers thrusting into his slicked up hole, or perched on your face and riding your tongue or having him cum so many times on your cock he ends up losing count.

That very day he had only been able to remember your name, your cock, your face, hadn’t even be able to recall who you were talking about when you’d mentioned the person trying to take him out on a date.

Needless to say, Price likes to keep his private life and work life separated, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t like to indulge in things in his own way

(Bonus: it’s impossible for him to look at this picture without him getting hard. He’ll wrap a hand around his dick, jerking himself til he’s inching closer to his release, before ropes of cum end up all over the Polaroid pictures.)

#John price #John price x reader #John price x male reader #captain John price #captain John price x reader #captain John price x male reader #call of duty #top male reader #bottom male character

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koisuko · 6 months

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Pov: You are a cat (pt3)

how the mk1 characters react to you as a stray cat, one with an oddly familiar/fitting name

part 1, part 2, part 4, bonus

ft: Kuai Liang, Bi-han, Tomas, Johnny, Kenshi

TW: none, cute kitty stuff, fluffy, gn, this took way longer than the others

Kuai Liang

Kuai Liang often took leisurely strolls around the tranquil grounds of the Lin Kuei Temple during his moments of respite. The temple's surroundings were often blanketed in a soft, soothing layer of snow, but for the pyromancer, the icy chill of winter held no sway over him. His very essence exuded an inner warmth that countered the cold embrace of the environment.

On this particular day, as the delicate snowflakes gracefully descended from the heavens to blanket the earth, Kuai Liang found himself taking a deep breath, observing the intricate dance of the snowflakes as they twirled and twined their way to the ground. It was a serene sight, the aftermath of a recent snowstorm that had bestowed its wintry bounty upon the landscape. However, amidst this serene vista, something unexpected caught his eye. A small, light brown figure, in stark contrast to the snowy surroundings, lay curled in a vulnerable ball. Kuai's curiosity piqued, he approached cautiously, his steps leaving deep impressions in the pristine snow.

As he drew near, he realized the figure was not what he initially thought. It wasn't a person but a small, shivering cat, its fur glistening with frost, the cold wind nipping at its exposed form. You were too weak to flee, your fragile body barely holding onto the last vestiges of warmth.

Without hesitation, Kuai Liang swiftly but gently scooped the trembling feline into his arms. His inherent pyromantic abilities were brought into play, the heat radiating from his body increasing to provide solace to the freezing creature. He cradled you tenderly against his chest, his protective embrace serving as a barrier against the frigid elements. Quickly, he turned on his heel and made his way back to the warmth and safety of his quarters. The small cat, now in the care of the compassionate Lin Kuei warrior, was wrapped in a cozy blanket, offering a respite from the merciless cold that had threatened your life.

Kuai Liang settled onto the edge of his bed, you still nestled in his arms. His deep brown eyes reflected a mixture of relief and concern as he gazed down at your small form. "Feeling better, little one?" he asked softly, his voice a gentle whisper. In response, you emitted a delicate meow, your purrs growing in intensity as you basked in the newfound warmth and safety. With a fond smile, Kuai adjusted the blanket to ensure your comfort. His fingers traced gentle patterns on your head as he noticed a collar, the word 'Flame' etched onto it. It was a fitting name, considering the circumstances of you and his meeting. He held you a bit closer, and with a sense of contentment washing over you both, you drifted into a peaceful slumber within Kuai Liang's reassuring embrace.

Bi-han

As the sun climbed higher in the sky, its rays beating down on the earth in relentless waves. This summer was a scorching anomaly around the Lin Kuei temple, typically shrouded in snow or rain. Yet today, the weather was unforgiving, the heat making the air thick and uncomfortable. Bi-han, the cryomancer, remained unfazed, his naturally colder body shielding him from the oppressive warmth.

Returning from a brief mission, he noticed an odd mass slightly off the path, its black color stark against the dusty road. It might have gone unnoticed, but something about it drew his attention. As he drew near, the figure became clearer—a small feline, lying almost motionless and panting. Though Bi-han's expression remained stoic, a flicker of concern crossed his features. Kneeling down, he observed you, barely clinging to life as the heat threatened to consume you.

Uncertain how to handle the situation, he extended an ice-covered hand, hovering it near your limp body. The cooling sensation permeated your fur, offering brief relief from the oppressive heat. After a moment's hesitation, he scooped you into his arms, a determination in his gaze as he decided not to walk away from this. He navigated through the temple, giving a cold stare to anyone inquiring about the cat in his arms.

Reaching his quarters, he gently placed you on his bed, quickly fetching water in a small dish. Your weakened state required assistance, and he patiently helped you drink. Fearful of accidentally harming you, he handled you with care, holding you against his cold chest. A rare smile adorned his face as he stroked your back with a frigid hand. Your panting ceased, replaced by a soft purr. A collar around your neck bore the name 'Snow,' a subtle amusement crossing his expression, a chuckle leaving his lips at the contrast between your name and your black fur. "A brave little warrior, welcome to the Lin Kuei."

Tomas Vrbada

Tomas often found solace in Madam Bo's tea house, sharing his troubles with her during tough times. Today, however, a different kind of task awaited him and his brothers. Lord Liu Kang had assigned them the responsibility of testing two new recruits. The plan involved a staged "thug attack" on Madam Bo, with Tomas taking the lead to set the scene for his brothers, Bi-han and Kuai Liang. He stood at a distance, karambit twirling between his fingers, awaiting the orchestrated chaos.

As he stared up at the night sky, Tomas couldn't shake off the unease that Bi-han's recent behavior had planted in his mind. The Grandmaster had become colder, distant, and more callous since his promotion, leaving Tomas worried about the clan's future. The unknown intentions of Bi-han lingered in his thoughts like an unspoken threat.

His contemplation was interrupted by a sudden pressure on his lower leg. Looking down, he was met with the amber eyes of a small grey feline. A soft 'brrr' escaped your lips as you gazed at him, offering a momentary distraction from his concerns. Tomas' masked face softened into a smile, and he cooed, "Well, hello there, little one. Are you lost?" Kneeling down, he gently caressed the fur on your back, occasionally reaching up to scratch behind your ears. You purred, rubbing your body against his leg with your tail held high.

Tomas chuckled at the affectionate display, lifting you into his arms. As he petted your head, you playfully swatted at his mask. "You're so cute," he chuckled, noticing a shiny piece of metal around your neck with the name 'Smokey' engraved on it. "Seems like it was meant to be, mini smoke!" Tomas nuzzled his masked face against you before gently setting you back on the ground. With a loving tone, he said, "I must go. I'll see you after, little Smokey." Walking towards the tea house, he left behind the furry distraction and headed into the impending test.

Johnny Cage

The cold marble floor beneath your padded paws echoed your every step as you navigated the expansive mansion. Your tail swayed low, the anticipation evident as you sought out your human companion. The distant murmur of a familiar voice led you to the main living room, where Johnny, engrossed in a phone call with a client, occupied the elegant white couch. With a soft meow, you made your presence known, gracefully leaping into his lap. Johnny, unfazed by the interruption, allowed a warm smile to grace his lips, his hand gently stroking the top of your head. The white fluffy fur responded, obediently flattening against your small frame.

"Alright, yea, yea, I'll talk to you soon, bye," Johnny concluded his conversation, placing the phone down. He pulled you closer to his chest, addressing you with affection, "Princess, my sweet baby, what do you say we watch one of daddy's movies, hm?" Your enthusiastic, raspy meow signaled your approval, earning a chuckle from Johnny.

The two of you found yourselves engrossed in the second movie, your petite form peacefully curled up in his lap. Johnny continued to caress your fur, eliciting soft purrs that harmonized with the ambient soundtrack of the film. As a tender moment unfolded, Johnny couldn't help but gaze down at you, a genuine smile playing on his lips. An idea sparked in his mind.

A subtle 'psspss' sound reached your ears, causing them to twitch before lifting your head inquisitively, "brr?" The next instant, a pair of oversized human sunglasses adorned your feline face, prompting a slight recoil in surprise. Johnny, undeterred, exclaimed, "Look at you, Princess, now you're just like me!" You playfully wiggled your head, the sunglasses perched on your nose, gazing up at Johnny with a mix of curiosity and kitty confusion.

A vision of a perfect photo opportunity struck Johnny, and he swiftly retrieved his phone. "They will love you, Princess, say cheese for the fans!" he enthused. Clicking away, he captured the moment, immortalizing your adorable feline fashion statement. "So cute! Okay, one more," he declared, adjusting you on his shoulder for a different perspective. Setting up his phone again, he turned on the recording feature, transforming your lazy demeanor into an amusing cat dance routine. Your unamused expression didn't escape Johnny's notice, but the love between you two prevailed.

As he maneuvered your limbs in a playful imitation of a human dance, you yawned, the epitome of relaxed indifference. The entire scene painted a heartwarming picture of companionship and the quirky antics that made your bond with Johnny truly special.

Kenshi Takahashi

Restless, Kenshi tossed and turned in his sheets, his mind burdened with worries for his family and the constant pressure to break free from the clutches of the Yakuza. Blind, but keenly attuned to his surroundings, every other sense heightened to compensate for the absence of sight, Kenshi found himself unable to find solace in sleep. With a deep sigh of defeat, he kicked the blankets off, acknowledging that tonight, sleep was not his ally.

Deciding to channel his restless energy, he ventured outside into the cool night air. A thin sheen of sweat coated his skin, offering a stark contrast to the refreshing breeze that greeted him. A smile tugged at his lips as the temperature shift cleared his mind. Sento, his faithful sword, in hand, he stood on the grass, adopting a steady stance. Fluid movements followed, the dance of a man determined to regain control over his life. Each breath he took seemed to ground him, the rhythmic motions of his sword a manifestation of both skill and frustration.

Blindness had taken away his ability to see the world in all its vibrancy. Now, dependent on Sento and those around him, Kenshi grappled with the loss of independence. The dance with his sword was not just a physical exercise; it was a defiance against the constraints that bound him.

His movements grew more vigorous, muscles flexing, as Sento seemingly came alive, mirroring his every move. The dance reached its zenith, Sento flowing out of the blade, a spectral swordsman beside him. To an onlooker, it would be a mesmerizing spectacle, a testament to the bond between man and sword. Abruptly, the dance ceased, Sento returning to its sheath in a stream of ethereal blue.

Sensing eyes upon him, Kenshi pointed his sword in the direction of the unseen observer. "Who's there?" his voice, usually calm, now carried a commanding tone. "Show yourself!" Silence greeted him, the stillness almost convincing him that his heightened senses were playing tricks on him. Frustration etched across his face as he cursed the loss of his sight.

As he stood there, a small calico cat emerged from the shadows. Your presence surprised him, and he scowled, trying to discern if it was a figment of his imagination. You, undeterred, approached Kenshi, a silent companion in the night. His scowl softened into a smile as he bent down to pet you, his sword now sheathed on his back.

Unexpectedly, he felt something on your collar. Using his fingers, he traced the lines, realizing it spelled out "Sento." Kenshi's fingers lingered on the collar, feeling the cold metal inscribed with the name of his sword. "Sento," he whispered, more to himself than to you, a note of disbelief in his voice. You, seemingly unperturbed, purred under his touch, rubbing your head against his hand.

A soft chuckle escaped Kenshi as he continued to stroke your calico fur. "Well, Sento, it seems we have a namesake here. What brings you to my midnight training session?" he mused, as if expecting you to respond. You, of course, remained silent, but your presence was oddly comforting.

The night air carried a hint of mystery, and Kenshi, guided by instincts honed through years of combat, couldn't shake the feeling that this encounter held significance beyond the surface. "Perhaps you're a guardian spirit, watching over me," he mused, half-jokingly, yet a flicker of curiosity danced in his sightless sockets.

As if in response, you nudged his hand affectionately, a silent reassurance. Kenshi's lips curved into a genuine smile, a rare expression that spoke of a connection forged in the quietude of the night.

"Maybe I'm not as alone as I thought," he muttered, more to himself than to you.

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impale-me-radio-daddy · 23 days

Text

The Lookalike (Part 3)

☒ Summary: “Surely you’re not embarrassed,” he said, running his tongue thoughtfully over his teeth. You awaken in Hell as the near-spitting image of a certain infamous radio host. Unfortunately for you, you have fallen into his clutches.

☒ Warnings: Alastor X Reader, implied Vox X reader, hermaphrodite!reader, deer!reader, they/them pronouns used, explicit sexual content, injury and treatment, reader is in Hell for a reason, canon typical scenarios.

☒ Parts: Part 1! Part 2! Part 4! Part 5! Part 6! Part 6 BONUS SCENE! Part 7 !

Through half-lidded eyes, you helped Alastor undress you; peeling away your bloodied tailcoat and unbuttoning your shirt, slow and unhurried. You winced as he pulled your shirt off over your injured arm, and he paused, letting you shear the fabric with your talons to leave the section that was stuck to your injury in place.

When he came to your trousers he eyed the mess you had made with interest, one curious finger scooping up some of the cum that pooled at your adonis belt. Alastor held the sample to the light, sniffed it, and with a brief glance down at you, sucked it from his fingertip. The sight sent heat to your face, a twinge in your spent cock, and it must have showed in your expression because Alastor’s grin widened.

“Surely you’re not embarrassed,” he said, running his tongue thoughtfully over his teeth.

“A little.” You returned his gaze, the post-orgasmic peace you felt leaving you a little bolder than you might have otherwise been. It would be quite the sight, you thought, to see him lick your mons clean with his long red tongue. “Am I to your tastes?”

Alastor balled your ruined shirt in his hand and used it to wipe the remnants of your cum from your skin, the motion considered and almost tender. “The wrong question, little pretender. I think you are already well aware of where my predilections lie.” His gaze ran the path from your navel to your face, and his eyes locked with yours once more. “In this delectable little world of ours, you see, our forms are determined by our natures.” Lifting the balled up shirt from your skin, he gripped it tight in his fist, and green flame sprung from it, consuming the fabric. In the green light, his face was cast in eerie shadow, his eyes glowing red. “You would not resemble me like this if we were not very much alike.”

Naked, you sat cross-legged on the bed as Alastor fetched a polished wooden case full of surgeon’s tools. His gaze had none of the unconstrained lust for you that Vox’s had, which was hardly surprising since the forms you held were so similar, though the way Alastor had paused when stripping your underwear from you told you that you probably weren’t identical in all regards.

Alastor sat before you, picking scissors, needle and thread and disinfectant from his kit before he gestured for you to give him your arm. Your first instinct was to refuse, but you knew from experience that stitching up an injury one-handed was fiddly, so you held out your hand for him, palm down, and let him move you by the wrist.

The cuts from his talons were deep, and dried blood stuck the remaining piece of shirt fabric to the injury. Taking one end of the fabric between his fingers, Alastor began to tug it from the injury, and a hiss of pain escaped your lips as it welled fresh blood.

“Did you make a deal with the television demon?” he asked, casually, as if he weren’t in the middle of re-opening the gashes he had made on your forearm.

You controlled your voice, wincing as he tugged a little more of the strip away. “No, not with anyone.”

Alastor’s grin betrayed no surprise. “And he has no other leverage on you? No family, friends?”

“He doesn’t,” you said. “But how do you know I’m not lying about that?”

“Lying to me? With my own face? Now, that I’d like to see!” Alastor laughed to himself. “I believe we each have something the other wants, little pretender. If you’d hear me out.”

You swiveled your ears towards him for effect. “I’m listening.”

Alastor’s own ears gave a twitch of amusement as he soaked a wad of cotton in disinfectant. “First, I want a promise of silence from you. You speak of nothing that I offer you next, and nothing that I ask of you next, regardless of the terms we settle on.”

A Hellish nondisclosure agreement? Interesting. You held still, a small squeak escaping your lips as Alastor applied the antiseptic. It stung, worse than the original wound had. Swallowing your pain, you tried not to sound like you had felt it. “Sure, I'll shake on that.”

Alastor took your hand in his, his palm pressed to your fingers as he looked you in the eye. “A deal,” he said, quietly, and there was green light around you, the smell of brimstone. The sensation of the deal itself was a strange one, almost like vertigo, and you noted it for later.

“So, what is it that you want from me?” You held your arm steady as Alastor pushed the needle through your skin for the first of the stitches your injuries needed. It hurt, but not as badly as the disinfectant from a moment ago, the thread that followed a queasy pull on your skin through the hole, and you pulled a face. “I hope you're not wanting to lock me in your bedroom too.”

Alastor laughed. “And let your talents go to waste? I think not.” He finished another stitch, pulling it closed without making your skin buckle where the sides of the wound met, so that the injury would heal with minimal scarring. A surge of appreciation for the care welled in your chest as he continued. “It just so happens that I can think of a great many things that I could do with a body double.”

You gave him a frown. “I'm not going to agree to a great many things.”

“I think you'll be favorably disposed.” Alastor pushed the needle in once more, a sting with the puncture and a pull with the thread. “Let me spell out my conditions.”

“I'm a captive audience.”

“Hm. Quite.” Alastor paused his stitching, holding up the needle between thumb and forefinger. “The first condition, you will harm no-one within this hotel.”

“Physical harm?” you asked, watching Alastor’s face. It was hard to read him behind the smile, but your gut told you that he was amused rather than irritated by the challenge.

“No physical or metaphysical harm,” he clarified brightly. “Emotional harm is fine.”

“If I'm being attacked?”

“Then you'll call me for help.”

“And if you don't come to save me?”

Alastor sighed, threading the needle through the skin on your forearm once more as he resumed the stitches. “Then you have yourself a loophole.” He tied off the stitch, cutting the ends of the knot close to the skin, the whisper of cold metal from the scissor blades making you shiver. “The second condition- you bring no trouble to the hotel.”

“Trouble? Is Vox trouble?” The television demon was likely to come after you, and you couldn’t agree to a deal you had no hope of fulfilling.

Alastor gave you a laconic look. “Vox was coming for me long before you arrived, my dear.”

“Done, then. I like a quiet life.”

Alastor looked at you with something close to approval before moving to the second parallel gash on your arm, pulling the injury together with his talons as he lined up the needle for the first stitch. “The third condition-” He began, hesitating. “The Radio Demon must be feared. My reputation must be maintained. My detractors must be dealt with.”

“You seem capable of that yourself.”

“I have certain obligations.” Alastor’s smile did not falter, but it was easy to see that this was why he had asked for your consent to nondisclosure. “I am limited. You, however…” He paused to make a stitch, the drag of the thread through your skin almost familiar by now.

“You want me to hunt for you,” you finished for him.

“If that's what you want to call it.”

You frowned, lowering your ears. “I don't like the idea of someone else picking quarry for me.”

“Would you rather not hunt at all?” asked Alastor, tying the knot on another stitch.

You thought about it. You remembered the times when you had stopped. When you had been forced to stop. It had been an itch. You breathed out through your nose. “Give me veto rights. I don’t have to kill anyone I don’t want to.”

Alastor’s smile was tight. “That's hardly a fair deal. You're practically doing what you want, at that point.”

“Isn't that true of your end of the bargain too? I get the feeling that you don't want the television demon fucking someone with your face.”

Alastor’s lips pulled back from his teeth. “Are you sure you want to provoke someone who is currently stitching your arm closed?”

“I'm negotiating.” You watched Alastor carefully. Naked and injured, in his territory, you ought to have been the one at a disadvantage, but your mention of Vox had set him practically snarling. Part of you wanted to poke him more, just to see how he reacted, but the pragmatic part of you told you to play it gently. “And I'm not opposed to the deal. I just need a little free rein, that's all.”

“I could use an extra pair of hands around the hotel,” conceded Alastor, after a pause. “Janitorial work, front desk. Agree to that, and you can have your veto.”

“Regular hours?”

Alastor’s ear twitched, and he looked up from the stitching, the work nearly complete. “I’m not a slavedriver, if that’s what you’re trying to imply. You can have your nine to five, little pretender, two days off a week.”

You smiled at him, your expression matching his. “I think I can live with that.”

“We have a deal, then,” said Alastor, his eyes creasing at the corners as he tied the final knot.

#alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor x y/n #vox x reader #hazbin x reader #alastor hazbin hotel

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preciouslandmermaid · 26 days

Text

nothing’s gonna hurt you baby (carmy x f!reader) - bonus post-epilogue chapter

Note: I randomly wanted to write a wedding, but I don't actually include the ceremony, so this is more like a "pre-wedding/post-wedding" story if we're being honest ! Also it takes place about 2 years after the epilogue :)

Warnings/Tags: 18+ Content! (Explicit Language/Sexual Content).

(Read on Ao3) /// (Masterpost)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sydney held the wooden spoon toward you and the scent of the honey and ginger glaze tickled your nostrils. Earlier in the afternoon, she rolled the sleeves of her dark green sweater to her elbows and the beaded bracelet (a gift from Richie’s daughter, Eva) slid partway down her wrist.

“Alright, it’s your entree. You get to try it first.”

“I thought that was the chef’s honor?”

“Yeah, well, you’re the bride so…” she trailed off, shrugging. “I think that superimposes chef’s honor.”

You smiled and raised both eyebrows at Syd. She didn’t have to help, especially considering how busy The Bear is nowadays, but she offered and you gratefully accepted. Wedding planning – as it turned out – was a stressful affair. You and Carmy had your location set, but the guest list, wedding registry, and menu were woefully incomplete. You tangled yourselves into knots over the planning, but the goal remained firm in your mind; a celebration with Carmy and your friends mixed with the legality of marriage. You would overcome any hurdles you needed to cross because all of it would be worth it in the end.

Wordlessly, you closed your mouth over the spoon. Your lips puckered and your tongue recoiled to the safety of your back molars.

“Oh, oh shit,” Sydney said emphatically, “you hate it.”

“N-no!” You coughed, swallowing, and grabbing your glass of water. “The acidity is just a little...strong. It needs to be adjusted, that’s all.”

“Fuck,” she said, slapping her palm on the wooden countertop. “Okay – uh – that’s okay. We can – I can totally fix this. No biggie.” When she tasted the glaze, her expression pinched before she stuck out her tongue and gagged. “Yeah, nope.” She released a forced, short laugh. “There’s no saving that one.”

You loved Syd’s earnest, anxious awkwardness. Her blunt nature had been the first foundational stone of your friendship. You liked that she didn’t let Carmy off the hook, regardless of his experience and talent, and their partnership was an integral component to the Bear’s continued success.

“Back to the drawing board,” you said, drumming your fingers on the countertop. “Maybe ginger is too sharp? Do we lean more savory?”

“Interesting idea coming from the baker,” she teased.

“Hey!” You pretended to be offended and infused your tone with as much indignation as you could. “Just because I run a bakery doesn’t mean I have a sweet tooth.”

Syd laughed. “There is literally a bowl of candy by the entryway.”

“It’s for Halloween.” You crossed your arms and said, “There are a ton of families in this building.” In truth, your lack of nicotine intake after quitting smoking had manifested into a ravenous sweet tooth and, the lollipops – although bad for your teeth – were monumentally healthier than cigarettes.

“Dude, Halloween is seven months away.”

“We’re prepared.”

“What for like kids who don’t know how to like tell time and show up a few months early?”

“Obviously.”

She finished scraping the glaze into the trash. “You’re fucking ridiculous.” Her bright smile faded and the light entered her dark eyes. You recognized it as her ‘I have an idea face’ and your mood lifted—the overly sour glaze quickly forgotten. When Carmy said he wanted The Bear to cater your wedding, you had been shocked, and concerned about the additional stress it would add to your lives. However, with Syd in your kitchen, the pan gripped in her hand and her expression rapt with wonder, you realized that you had nothing to worry about. The wedding’s menu and food preparation were in the best hands.

“Do you have any soy sauce?” she asked, “Worcestershire sauce will work too, or liquid aminos if we’re desperate.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Carmy watched as your fingers held aloft over the keyboard and the spreadsheet glared menacingly in a harsh blue-white glow. The guest list had been easy to start. The obvious ones were Syd, Natalie, Peter, Richie and Eva, and your best friend, Taylor. The harder choices were family and how to arrange the tables. Your eyebrows angled in confusion and you drew your hands away.

“I’m not inviting my dad,” you said after a moment’s pause.

Carmy nodded. “Okay.”

His neck prickled uncomfortably. It wasn’t the flushed heat that arrived when he felt embarrassed. No. This discomfort traveled from his neck to his fingers. It raked across his skin like a thousand needles, pricking every nerve, and drawing blood. He thought about going to his coat pocket and withdrawing a crumpled pack of cigarettes. The quick, cold rush of nicotine would ease his headache and calm his nerves. But, if he smoked, then he’d need to walk downstairs and into the blustery sharp gray wind of March. And he didn’t want to bail on you. The puzzle of who to invite and who to sit with whom was a project for the both of you to untangle.

“I dunno if I should…” He cleared his throat and looked away when your eyes met his over the laptop screen. “I dunno.”

“Your mom?” you correctly guessed.

Carmy sniffed, scratched the side of his nose, and nodded. His heart thumped into his ribs. Maybe he should take a walk. Maybe the March air would clear this dreadful feeling from his skull. His stomach hardened into a pit at the idea of his mom coming to his wedding. But, at the same time, his dread and fear congealed into a sharp guilt that curdled his stomach acid. His mom was a force to be reckoned with. A hurricane of a woman. He loved her. He didn’t know if he wanted her at the wedding. He knew she’d be upset if she weren’t invited. But, both of you decided to keep the guest list small. The careful cuts were necessary, and not just due to the frugality aspect, but in terms of everyone’s enjoyment.

“She’d make it about her,” he said, “remember Sophia’s second birthday?”

You placed your hand on the middle of Carmy’s back, right between his tense shoulder blades, and he forced a harsh exhale through his teeth. They almost called the police, Carmy thought with a frown. His mom showed up and seemed fine, and then shortly before cake and presents, she buckled little Sophia into her car and claimed that Natalie hated her and didn’t want Sophia to have a relationship with her grandmother. His niece, at the age when separation anxiety often occurred, cried so much that she threw up on her special birthday dress.

“I do,” you said and your eyes softened.

“I’m a terrible son,” Carmy said, “I’m a fucking asshole. We have to invite her, don’t we? She deserves to be there.”

“Carmy, you’re not.” You rubbed his back. “Do you think I’m an asshole for not inviting my dad?”

He quickly said, “No.” The pit in his stomach gnawed at his smoke-deprived lungs. “It’s different.”

“How so?”

“He has another family.” Carmy stood, raking his hand through his hair. “My mom only has Nat and me.”

“So you have to sacrifice your happiness and comfort for hers?”

“Yes!” he said immediately followed by a quick, “No. I don’t know.” He reached into his coat pocket hanging by the door and fished out the squashed packet of cigarettes.

You trailed after him and wound your arms around him, pressing your face into his back, your hands coming to rest over his heart. Carmy froze. The pressure of your hands on his chest made him realize how fast his heart was beating. He squeezed the cigarette packet and it crinkled beneath his clammy fingers.

“Remind me,” you said, voice faintly muffled by his t-shirt, “what was the possible diagnosis your therapist gave her?”

“Borderline personality disorder.” His therapist also said his mom could have narcissistic personality disorder, but BPD was more likely, based on his descriptions of childhood. It helped to have a name for it. It gave him a better understanding of everything he went through.

“Which defines her behavior but doesn’t excuse it,” you said as you circled around him to face him. “Carmy, I love you.” You cupped his face in your hands. “I will support you if you want to invite Donna and I’ll weather any storms she brings with her. Who knows...maybe it’ll be a good day for her.” Your tone toward the end of your sentence became dubious.

Carmy sighed. “I don’t think I want to invite her, but I feel like I should.” He frowned. “That doesn’t make sense, does it?”

“No, it does. You feel an obligation as her son to share this big moment with her. I get it.”

“Do you feel guilty about not inviting your dad?”

“A little.” Your lips pursed. “But, if I visualize our wedding, the thought of my dad standing beside me doesn’t make me happy. I don’t feel excited about it. I just feel…”

“Dread?” he guessed.

You smiled faintly. “It’s more annoyance and anger for me.”

“Mm, yeah. Makes sense.” He leaned his forehead and touched it to yours. How did he get so lucky? He imagined the wedding. He imagined seeing you across from him, sliding the ring on your finger, and stuttering through his vows. The usual nervousness bubbled up inside his chest, but it was smothered by the overwhelming warmth and affection he felt for you that bled across his skin like thick honey.

“I don’t think I can invite her,” he whispered.

“That’s okay, Carm.” You kissed him softly. “That’s okay.” You repeated against his mouth. A sensation of cool and blissful relief extinguished the last lingering remnants of his dread.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Something is weird,” you said, leaning forward in the passenger seat. “Why are there two florist vans? Did we accidentally get two?” You didn’t recognize the name on the second van either. Must be a local shop, you thought, although that doesn’t explain why they’re here.

“I don’t think so,” Carmy said.

As everyone poured out of their cars, their garment bags slung over their arms or over their shoulders, a sharply dressed black woman emerged from the entrance and strode purposefully toward you and Carmy.

“You must be the Berzattos,” she said breathlessly as she shook your hands. “It’s good to meet you. My name is Vivienne and I’m afraid I have bad news.”

“What sort of bad news?” Richie said, “The kind that gets us a discount?” He grinned at Carmy and your husband-to-be rolled his eyes.

“Perhaps.”

Richie whispered, “Oh shit.”

“We’ve had some technical issues with our new scheduling program.” She wrung her hands together. “The venue has been double-booked.”

“Okay,” you said slowly, noticing all the additional staff buzzing to and fro across the manicured lawn.

Vivienne said, “I’m so sorry for the mistake. If you’d like, we can reschedule you.”

Your stomach dropped into your shoes.

“Absolutely not,” you said, “people flew out to be here. We can’t reimburse flights and accommodations, and nor should we have to considering this is your error.” You sighed, feeling a headache press into your temples. “Why didn’t you notify us?”

“How about a discount and you can split the venue?” she offered, “we only realized the mistake when the two catering companies showed up.”

“Well, that’s convenient,” said Richie.

“Fuck,” Syd said.

Natalie crossed her arms. “I’m sorry did they say double-booked?”

“Mommy!” Sophia pulled at Natalie’s pant leg. “Mommy, look! Sunflowers!” She pointed at the floral van carrying out their arrangements.

You shared a glance with Carmy. “Can we have a minute?”

“Of course. Again, we’re so sorry.”

You and Carmy broke away from the group of your closest friends and family. You rubbed your hands down the length of your face.

“We can’t reschedule,” you said, “but how the hell are we going to share the venue? They have one kitchen and we paid for our guests to stay the night.”

“Maybe the timing works out,” Carmy said, taking your hand in his. “You want to stay here?”

“Yes.”

“Then fuck it. We stay.”

“Okay, fuck it.” You smiled. “Let’s negotiate a good discount.”

“Say the word and I’ll send Pete in,” Carmy joked.

You laughed. “God, we might need him.”

The organization was a cluster-fuck. The venue manager, Vivienne, assured and promised that the space was large enough and that the other party – the Carmichael's – were having a noon wedding with a 2 PM reception and everything would be cleaned up for your 4 PM wedding and 5 PM reception. But, you noticed the proverbial cracks in the foundation. The necessary kitchen prep work, the clashing decorations, the intermingling guests, and the underlying stress and confusion permeated every interaction. You practiced intentional breathing and hoped you’d make it through the day without bursting into stress-induced tears.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The zipper was halfway up when it broke. You felt the snag, then the tug and pull, and the abrupt separation. You pressed your hand to your mouth and muffled the noise of discontent and frustration that threatened to break free.

Taylor pushed her long, thick dark braid over her shoulder and pursed her red lips at you. “We can work with this,” she said after a long moment of contemplation. “We can fix it.”

You released a strangled, “can we?” You blinked back your burning tears—you didn’t want to ruin your makeup.

“Yeah, most of these places have emergency sewing kits,” your best friend said while digging through the drawers, “also, this might be a bad time, but is the chef single?”

Despite everything, you laughed. “Which chef?”

“The tall blonde one with the accent.”

“Luca?”

Taylor’s eyes brightened. “Yes!”

“I’ll find out for you,” you said while reaching for your phone. You smiled at the sight of your phone background, a black and white photo of you and Carmy, and Taylor snickered.

“I remember when you told me about him,” she said.

“You do?”

“Yeah, you were all tied into knots about it...and now look at you! Tying the knot.” She winked. “I’m glad you guys figured it out.”

Your chest warmed with pleasure. “Me too.”

“Aha!” She held the little sewing kit aloft. It had the venue's name printed on the front of the bag. “Do you think they write this so nobody steals it?” She asked while tapping the swooping decal.

Before you could answer, your mom bustled into the room, her billowing lilac sleeves trailing after her arms.

“Oh! Look at you!” She grabbed your chin and kissed your cheek. “I’ve got something for you. A little tradition.”

“Mom, I don’t know if I can stomach any more surprises.” Taylor began to fix your zipper and the cold metal teeth periodically kissed your skin.

“You’ll like this surprise.”

Your mom removed a potted plant from her purse. The dark soil clung to her fingertips, the plant likely got knocked around more than once, as she set it down on the vanity. You recognized the wide, verdant leaves.

“A basil plant?”

“Normally, we give a flower of some type, but I chose a basil plant instead.” She smiled, pleased. “Nurture the plant as you nurture your future and it’ll thrive.”

Your throat tightened. “Thanks, Mom.” Your shoulders jerked as Taylor finished zipping and she whooped in triumphant delight.

“There we go, crisis averted,” said Taylor, “now we don’t have to worry about walking down the aisle naked.”

You rubbed your fingertips along the basil leaf and smiled at them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“God,” Richie said, fixing his tie, “I can’t believe you’re getting fucking married, cousin.”

“Yeah, me either.” Carmy scratched the side of his nose.

“I always thought Mikey’d get married before you,” he said, “he was just more charmin’, you know? He had a way with people, women especially, God…” Richie shook his head. “He couldn’t walk down the street without getting some chick’s phone number.”

Carmy stared sullenly at his reflection. “Yeah, well, maybe it’s a good thing he didn’t? ‘Cause then he’d have an ex-wife, or a widow, or a kid or somethin, I dunno.”

Carmy wondered if he’d forever be in rooms with Mikey’s shadow stuck to the corners. It didn’t suffocate him as much anymore. Mikey’s memory lurked within every conversation – like slivers of light through the paneled window shades. Today of all days though, Carmy suspected those slivers would blind him. Mikey should’ve been here, could’ve been, and he wasn’t.

“Yeah, good point.” Richie turned the side and smoothed his lapels. “Still, it should be him.”

Carmy’s neck flushed with indignation. Did Richie seriously have to be such an asshole? His brow furrowed. It was his fucking wedding day for fuck’s sake!

“Cousin—” Carmy began.

“Standing here, I mean, as your best man,” said Richie. “Look, there’s no takebacks and this would be a hell of a time to change your mind but it should’ve been Mikey. Not me. I get that, okay? That’s all I’m trying to say…” He fixed his tie again. “And I’m gonna do everything to make sure that this day doesn’t go to shit. I can promise you that, alright?”

Carmy blinked, at a loss for words at Richie’s admission. It had been six years and counting since Mikey’s death and Richie had been with him for every one. If he was being honest with himself and not caught up on nostalgia, if Mikey was here, then Carmy wasn’t sure he would have trusted him with all the responsibility. Hell, Richie organized a pizza-making bachelor party for him. He offered to trash the other couple’s wedding.

“Who else would it be?” he asked softly, “you’re family, Richie.”

Richie sniffed, nodded, and clapped his hand on Carmy’s shoulder, jostling him. When Carmy met his eyes, they were glassy and bright.

“I know.” His lips twitched up into a grin. “Let’s get you fucking married!” He pulled Carmy in a one-armed, half-hug and shook him. “Put a fucking smile on that face, Carm. Come on! Come on!”

He affectionately pinched Carmy’s face in one hand, squishing his mouth, and Carmy shoved Richie away, annoyed, but laughing—in the same way he’d get annoyed and laugh whenever Mikey goofed around with him.

“Fuck off,” said Carmy, without any heat.

“Hey,” Syd poked her head into the doorway, “you ready? The photographer wants to see all of the groomsmen.”

“Shouldn’t you say grooms-people? To be like politically correct or whatever,” Richie asked, “or groomsmen and women considering you’re among us.”

Syd made a face. “Richie shut up and come pose with us.”

“Hey, I’m just trying to be inclusive,” he said loudly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If someone asked you to recount all the details of your wedding—you didn’t think you could. It was the busiest and most stressful day of your life. You’d always remember the finer details like Carmy’s thoughtful, flustered vows, Richie starting a limbo competition, or Syd’s dad dancing with Taylor—at least for a while until she disappeared with Luca in tow. Good for you, you remembered thinking as you watched her form retreat down the hall.

But the rest of the day was an exuberant blur. It had been long and you were grateful to relax into the lush pillowcases with your short silk gown kissing your skin.

Carmy climbed into bed after showering and peppered kisses along your nose and jaw, his hands finding your hips beneath the covers and holding them.

“I can’t believe you’re my husband,” you said with soft laughter before chasing his lips with yours.

“And you’re my wife,” he said, lifting your wrists and placing them over your head, “keep those there.”

You said, “We’ve been married less than twelve hours and you’re already bossing me around?”

Carmy chuckled and his breath puffed over your peaked nipples. His tongue laved over the silk, and moistened it before he drew your nipple between his lips. The soft silk and warmth of Carmy’s tongue was a heady, back-arching mixture.

“Oh, fuck,” you whispered, plunging your hands into his damp curls and scraping your nails over his scalp.

“Yeah?” His calloused palm felt its way down your thigh, “Are you wet for me already?”

“A little,” you admitted as you parted your legs for him.

“God,” he muttered before mouthing along your breasts and wetting the silk with his tongue and lips. He held one of your breasts in his hand and squeezed, pushing the mound into his mouth again and sucking your hard nipple. The sensation turned to liquid, sticky heat between your legs. You moaned, pushing upward into his grasp and gyrating your hips in askance. His hand was frustratingly close to your cunt, but not close enough. He rubbed up and down your inner thigh from knee to apex, letting his knuckles occasionally brush your pussy, before drawing away without adding any pressure. The fucking nerve of him!

“My wife is so fucking hot,” Carmy said, and hearing the words sent a hot, fresh thrill trembling through you.

“And my husband is a fucking tease,” you said, digging your fingertips into his hard, sculpted shoulders.

Carmy pulled his mouth away from your wet breasts. The silk had darkened where his mouth had been and you could faintly see your nipples through the semi-translucent fabric.

“Am I?” He drew his hands away from you and grabbed your wrists again, pinning them above your head, “I thought I said to keep these here.”

You snorted. “When have I ever listened?”

“You’re a great listener,” he said honestly.

“I want to touch you, Carmy,” you said, matching his honesty with your own, even as his praise sang through your ears and warmed your skin.

He softened. “Okay.” He pulled your wedding ring-adorned hand to his mouth and kissed your knuckles. The moment he released your hand, you slid your fingers down his chest, smiling at the way his eyelashes fluttered and his cheeks darkened. You wiggled your fingers beneath the tight waistband of his boxer shorts and found him hard and pulsing within your grasp.

“Fuck.” He shuddered. “I feel like I could come just by looking at you.”

He jerked his hips into your touch as your fingers encircled him. You craned your neck upward and kissed him, finding the familiar rhythm of tongue and teeth, and moaning wantonly into his mouth when his hand cupped your wet folds. He hissed when his index finger pledged into you and your mind went white-hot and blank.

“Do you think the stress of the day has manifested into being super horny for each other?” You asked, your other hand cupping the back of Carmy’s neck, pinning his face close to yours so you could kiss him. His pretty blue eyes blinked at you.

“Maybe. But, I think I just want to fuck my wife.” His cock twitched in your hand and you grinned.

“It turns you on to call me your wife, doesn’t it?”

“It does.”

His admission made your walls clench around his index finger. Maybe you liked it too. Maybe. You felt Carmy smile against your lips. “Can’t wait to be inside you,” he muttered, “filling you, listening to you moan.”

You gasped and your eyes rolled back into your skull. It wasn’t often that Carmy engaged in dirty talk, so when he did, it was a rare and special treat that never failed to drench your core. Carmy ran his tongue along your neck, tasting your sweat before a second finger speared between your folds and coaxed that inner fire.

“Keep this on,” he said, dragging his teeth across the strap of your gown, “when I fuck you.”

“Mm – fuck. Okay,” you groaned.

“Actually, I—” his words were suddenly lost to a moan as you adjusted your grip on his cock, your fingers slicked with pre-cum. “Fuck, baby. I need you on top of me.”

“Gladly.”

Carmy rolled onto his back, yanking his shorts down, and you smiled at the sight of him – as desperate as you were with his chest heaving and his wet curls falling onto his forehead. Your walls clenched in anticipation as you hiked the hem of the dress over your hips. Carmy’s hands settled on your thighs and he watched hungrily as you held the base of his cock and slowly lowered yourself onto him. Your spine convulsed and the sensation of him stretching you and filling you wiped out every lingering thought in your mind.

“God,” his voice was strangled, “you feel so fucking amazing.”

You cupped his face, resting your forehead on his as you rode him, and said, “so do you.”

“I love you so much,” Carmy said reverently, “so goddamn much.”

Your heart threatened to break and regrow the from sheer tenderness of his words. Carmy, you learned over the years, expressed his love with acts of service and he said ‘I love you’ most often while having sex. However, something about this ‘I love you’ was different. It was more intense on your post-wedding night. You buried your face into his sweaty neck, your bodies and hearts joined, your futures intrinsically linked.

“I love you too.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You tilted the watering can over the thriving basil plant and smiled.

“Auntie.” Sophia, freshly eight years old, held something in her hands. “I found a worm.”

You blinked at her. “Put it back?”

“Okay!” She replied cheerily and dropped the worm back into the potted rosemary. She spun when the balcony door slid open. “Hi Uncle Carmy! Do you want to see the worm?” She pointed.

Carmy smiled, first at his niece, and then at you. “Let me see,” he said, crouching. He balanced his wrists on his knees and the sunlight gleamed off his wedding band. Your heart skipped. My husband. You wondered what your grandfather would say if you could tell him that his death led you to your soulmate, a second family, and a range of new friends. Knowing him he’d tell me that he would’ve died sooner if he knew how happy it’d make me. Your grandfather had had a wry sense of humor.

Carmy stood and put his arm around you. “We’re going to need to re-pot the basil if it keeps growing like this,” he said absentmindedly.

You leaned into him and kissed his cheek.

#carmy berzatto x reader #carmy x reader #carmy berzatto x you #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmen carmy berzatto x reader #the bear fanfic #carmen 'carmy' berzatto #carmen 'carmy' berzatto x you

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ahundredtimesover · 10 months

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Title: Please Love Me Drabble Bonus (10) - I want this so much.

WC: 12,663

Tags/Warnings: foul language; alcohol consumption; talks of pregnancy, explicit sexual content (kissing, dirty talk, fingering, breast play, overstimulation, oral (m & female receiving), straddling, unprotected penetrative sex), lots of fluff; Seven JK (18+)

Series Masterlist

A/N: Hi. I’m on a break from my indefinite break. Seven JK was a burst of inspiration (so were his WeLives bc dreamy househusband alert!) and PLM!JK definitely has reasons to f*ck his wife seven days a week. So please enjoy this fluff piece because it’s happening!💕

“Babe, is the curling iron still on?”

Your husband calls out from the walk-in closet behind you, and you yell out your yes as you place the item in question on the dresser, ruffling your hair up a bit and styling it as you wish.

You're so immersed in trying to figure out what look you want to go for that you don’t immediately notice Jungkook standing next to you, iron in hand as he curls the edges of his smooth locks. When your eyes flit to him, you’re momentarily hypnotized, your movements stopping for a few seconds before you’re able to regain your bearings and decide on a loose bun to match the low-back satin dress you have on.

“You okay there, babe?” Jungkook asks as he picks up on your silence, with you seemingly avoiding looking at him.

You nod in response and he smirks, feeling like he knows what’s got you acting like this. He’s known for a while that he affects you in a certain way; your trip to Busan not long ago reinforced that, given the way your body reacted to everything he did at your command. But still, knowing that he makes you flustered even with clothes on gives him that boost of confidence and that air of cockiness that he knows you adore.

“Are you sure?” He asks again, turning to look at you while you keep your eyes on the mirror.

You finally face him and release a deep sigh. “You look really good,” you admit, your cute little frown melting all the knots in his body.

“Why do you make it sound like it’s a bad thing?” He chuckles, flashing you that boyish smile that he also knows drives you wild.

“Because…” you start, your arms crossed now to establish some distance. “I’m gonna have to control myself around you and behave but that’s hard when you look… like that.”

“Who says you have to control yourself and behave? You’re my wife and you have my permission to keep your hands on me any time and you know, misbehave or something,” he cheekily responds, his smug face making you want to smack his chest and pull his hair out of lust and frustration.

“We’ll be in public, Kook!”

“Tae booked a private club, though.”

You frown at his teasing but it only urges your husband to tease even more.

“They also have private rooms so when you absolutely cannot help yourself, we can always get one and maybe I’ll let you put on a show for me. Or I can do that, it depends if you still have yourself together by then.”

“Kook! You’re not helping,” you pout, and much as he wants to keep going, he also just wants to wrap his arms around you and that’s what he does, pulling you close and softly smiling at you.

“I’m kidding. Sort of,” he chuckles. “But we can also just skip the party and stay in, you know? I’ll keep my clothes on until you take them off me, or until you ask me to, just like last time,” he smirks now. “And we can just do whatever we want. You won’t have to worry about controlling yourself or anything.”

“Tempting, but we did promise Taehyung that we’d come tonight,” you say, wrapping your arm around his neck while you fix the strands of his hair, knowing the style he wants to go for. “Opening an art gallery is kind of a big deal. And I am a featured artist in his collection so we absolutely have to be there.”

“I know,” Jungkook says. “I won’t hear the end of it if we skip it. But at least I’ve got a reason to swap the business wear for something different. And you know, fluster my wife because of it, make her speechless and tell me I look good.”

“Ah, is that what you expected to happen,” you arch an eyebrow, feeling called out because that’s definitely what happened.

He’s always been a little cocky but he’s amped it up recently and you’re not complaining; he has all the reasons to be. You know he knows that you love it when he is.

“Well, I actually expected you to be on my lap right now, marking me all over and moaning out curses,” he chuckles, his laughter increasing in volume as your face distorts in feigned annoyance once more. “But I guess the outfit isn’t sexy enough.”

“Now you’re just pushing it,” you playfully smack his chest. “You don’t even wear tight clothes like this. You always said they made you feel stuffy.”

Pulling away to fully absorb Jungkook’s look, you smack yourself internally for even attempting to take him all in, only because of all the scenarios playing in your head right now. And he’s right, being on his lap and claiming him as you cuss out your pleasure is what you would be doing if you weren’t running late. But you are, and acting out all your desires would have to wait.

“Well, since I married you, Mrs. Jeon, I’ve become quite the observant man,” he boasts. “I pick up on what turns you on and I use it to my advantage. You loved it when I had the sleeves of my white shirt rolled up and this is just the tight fit version of it.”

Much as you want to kiss him right now, you can’t help but soften at his words. He is observant, especially when it comes to things you like about him. You remember how he’d started buying colored and patterned tops after your honeymoon years ago because you said you liked them on him. Recently, you notice that he’s been wearing jeans for his casual wear a lot more now, and how he’s kept his hair the specific length that you once said you loved on him.

His best friends say that Jungkook was always just content on his monochromatic sweats and hoodies because they’re comfortable and don’t require much thinking when he decides to put them on, and so knowing that he keeps you in mind when he dresses up is quite sweet, especially knowing that he doesn’t really care what people say unless it’s you. And if you show that it’s something you like, Jungkook will definitely keep doing it to make you happy.

“And the leather pants?” You ask.

“Jimin suggested it, said it fits more with a plain white shirt than jeans for a club. Do you like it?” He wonders, looking anxious, as if there’s anything he wears that you don’t like. Maybe except for this one university shirt that has holes on them that he still wears.

“Of course I do, hun,” you say, wrapping your arms around his waist now. “You look like the sexiest, most beautiful man alive but I also don’t mind if you just wore whatever you wanted. You’ll look gorgeous either way.”

“Well, some people dress for themselves, and some people also don’t mind, like me. I’ll wear anything that’s comfortable, as long as it makes my wife happy.”

“But this outfit makes me horny though.”

Jungkook smirks before licking his lips, and right when you think he’s gonna kiss your mouth as he leans forward, he goes for your neck instead, sucking a bit of flesh before he trails upwards with soft pecks towards your ear.

“That’s better,” he whispers, sending shivers all over you that he definitely feels, earning you a teasing chuckle.

He turns to face you and sees the desire in your eyes, and he knows you’d both break eventually but still, he states, “I don’t wanna mess your lipstick, baby.”

“I don’t care,” you moan, feeling the wetness pool between your thighs now, and your words prompt Jungkook to crash his mouth against yours to taste the lust that’s expressed all over your body.

He tastes of mint cherry and yearning and smells of deep vanilla and ecstasy. His hands trail down to your ass that he ardently squeezes while yours travel towards his hair, the soft pulls eliciting moans from him, as your hips meet his thrusts the same way that your tongue battles against his, desperate and impassioned, your beings melding into one.

Time feels frozen as it’s just you and him. Until your phone starts ringing, incessantly, and it registers to you that it might be Nari, who you’d promised to pick up on the way to the club.

You pull away, telling your husband that you both have to go.

“Well, at least your lipstick’s not completely messed up,” he hums.

“Yeah, but my underwear is,” you groan, and it’s your pout and scurry towards your closet that lets Jungkook know that you’re serious. Your little make out session did turn you on and if it wasn’t for a disruption, maybe you would be on his lap right now just as he expected - more like dreamed.

“I take it back,” he states, walking towards the bathroom where you now are. “I think the outfit’s sexy enough, don’t you think?”

You enter the private club that Taehyung booked for the party and spot less familiar faces than the official opening of the art gallery earlier in the week. Given, tonight is specifically for the fashion and entertainment crowd, a strategic decision for him who wants to attract patrons other than the usual from the art and business fields. It’s a good way to make use of his family’s connections, and it’s also another means of exposing your work to a different audience.

It’s why Taehyung’s been excited to introduce you to the guests, making sure you meet all of them, as he goes around the space to greet them. You don’t mind, really. He has a great eye and a unique way of expressing and selling his art, and as he matches it to his target market, you find yourself learning from him, too. He even got one of them to commission you for a piece, someone who doesn’t mind waiting in line, given that you’ve been pacing your work due to health reasons.

Taehyung finally states that he now wants to get on with the actual party, so he heads to the bar to order some shots while you walk towards the table where your husband and all your friends are. You take the seat next to Jungkook who promptly looks at you with a cheeky smile on his face.

“Babe, why are you sitting there?”

“Where else would I sit?” You ask, sipping from a glass of water.

Jungkook spreads his arms and nods towards his lap, causing you to burst in laughter, although he doesn’t seem to find it all that funny.

“I won’t sit on your lap, honey,” you giggle. “I can do that at home.”

“Our friends won’t mind,” he huffs.

“I would,” you respond.

“He just wants to make a statement,” Jimin chimes in. “We can’t count how many girls have walked up to him asking if the seat - I mean, his lap - is taken. Why he’s even manspreading, we don’t know.”

You laugh along with your friends as you turn to your husband, as if asking him why he’s doing exactly that.

“I always had the image of men in leather pants sitting like this,” Jungkook answers. “I guess it fits the vibe.”

“Well, if you keep doing that, more women are gonna try their luck. And I can’t really blame them,” you say, moving your seat closer to him because suddenly, the idea of people hitting on your husband makes you just a little bit uneasy.

“And they’ll keep getting rejected. I don’t know why they think that line would work,” Jungkook rolls his eyes.

“Why did you think it would work on me?”

“Let’s just say, you have a track record,” he smirks at you. “And don’t think I’ve forgotten how just kissing me affected you earlier. Oh baby, you have it bad for me,” he whispers now.

You’d be annoyed at him if he wasn’t right, but of course he is. It’s the boyish charm and effortless sexiness that get you all the time, and that’s on top of all the other things that make him an amazing husband and lover.

His wiggling eyebrows let you know that he’s teasing, and your scrunched nose tells him you’re enjoying it.

But even then, he pulls you close and softly kisses your cheek. “And I’ve got it bad for you, too, baby. I’ll do whatever you want tonight, just tell me.”

“What about a message and cuddles?” You release a deep breath. “Meeting the guests tired me a bit.”

“Then I’ll do that. We can have a bath together and sleep in, too. Does that sound good?”

You nod in response, smiling at the thought that despite your incessant teasing, you and Jungkook could edge each other with your flirting but also wouldn’t mind if one of you decides for something soft and wholesome instead. It’s not so much self-control as it is the way your relationship has come to work - sure, sex is always good; you’d push each other’s buttons for fun or even as foreplay, but pillow talk while your limbs are entangled under the sheets are just as amazing. You’ve learned that every intimate moment with him is special as it happens; you could only hope it’s an aspect of your marriage that won’t ever change.

Your moment is disrupted when Taehyung arrives with a server and a tray of shots, with him insisting that each person has to take one. You give in even if you hadn’t planned on drinking at all, but when you say that’s all you’ll have for the rest of the night, none of your friends question you. They know you and Jungkook are actively trying to get pregnant, and consuming alcohol does affect that, so they let you be. Jungkook orders a glass of juice right after though, but you don’t question him, even if you’d expected that he’d go for another round or at least a bottle of beer.

As the host that he is, Taehyung urges everyone to get on the dance floor, the alcohol now kicking in after the rest of your friends downed more shots.

“We’re good here,” Jungkook says. “You tired my wife a little over there.”

“Nah, we all know you’re the only one who can do that,” Taehyung wiggles his eyebrows, his lack of filter causing you and your husband to just laugh.

“I’m okay, Kook,” you say, reaching out your hand for him to take. “I’d be silly not to dance with you looking like this. Plus, didn’t you want to make a statement that you’re taken or something?” You laugh.

“I do, actually,” he smirks, leading you to the dance floor where your friends have gathered. “But I’d also be silly not to dance with you looking like this,” he continues, running his hand down your bare back until it sits right on your ass. He squeezes it a little before holding you by the waist, swaying them in tandem with your hips as you dance to the music.

You’ve got your hands around his neck and your eyes locked on his, his smile turning more sultry as the seconds tick by. You feel him grind against you and you welcome the friction, as you find yourself lost in the sounds and the weight of his stare.

“Nothing like a song about fucking everyday to get us in the mood, huh,” he whispers in your ear, his fingers gripping your dress to control himself.

“Good thing we’re married and can do that, then,” you whisper back. “But that would also be incredibly tiring.”

Jungkook laughs. Much as he knows it’s something that his amazing stamina would allow him to do, he also knows that’s too much for you. But he’d never complain. Anything with you is enough; being with you is enough. Falling asleep with you is all that he wants, even during that rare time when he was upset. He’s learned that when it comes to you, no distance is farther than when he’s not next to you; he’d take any pain on either of your ends, as long as he has you by his side.

He’s overcome with emotion at the thought, so he doesn’t control himself when the urge to kiss you takes over him and you let him, capturing his lips for something gentle and languid. He feels you smile against him and he does the same, knowing that amidst the lust and intense yearning, the softness will remain. It’s why he pulls away first and envelopes you in a hug, finding purchase in your neck as he calms his raising heart and hardening cock that were caused by your impassioned movements.

He hears you giggle as you hug him tight and his heart softens now, savoring that sound even more because he was without it for weeks at one point. He’s also learned that days without your laugh and your smile are the hardest; he knows he’ll be lost in this world without them.

You pull away now and kiss his cheek this time, and you feel him smile again at the action. With all his cheekiness, Jungkook is everything that is love at his core. He gives and takes as he should, and it may seem odd that such thoughts are what’s swirling in your mind as you’re both dancing together at a club with people making out and grinding against each other around you, but you’ve come to learn that regardless of happening outside or inside of you, he’s the only one you want to share your little world with.

He takes your hand and leads you back to your table where your friends gather shortly after. He orders coffee while you settle for tea, knowing you’d be too tired to make one before you sleep. It’s more laughter and dancing in your seats for another hour or so before you and Jungkook decide to head home as guests start to leave as well.

You didn’t expect to be out until 2AM but you kept thinking that one day, you’ll be too old for this; one day, you’ll have kids to care for that you won’t have much time for nights out with your friends. You savor what you’re able to as a young married couple before children get in the picture, and as you watch Jungkook in the driver seat with his tattooed arm on the steering wheel, humming to the music while saying that he had a great time, you assume that he thinks the same way.

“Yeah, tonight was fun,” you muse. “We let go of ourselves a little bit and that was nice.”

“It was. You had your hands on me for most of the night so that was good,” he teases.

“I had to make a statement myself. Don’t think I didn’t see those two women who kept eyeing you and constantly passing by our table,” you huff.

“I didn’t even notice,” he hums. “I was too busy looking at you. But was that really it? You were just letting them know that I’m your man and they have no chance?”

“Of course not,” you giggle, taking his free hand and kissing it. “This look is really doing something to me. Maybe I’ll start asking you to wear this at home or something.”

Jungkook laughs at your words, his head briefly rolling back before he turns to you with his scrunched nose. “I wouldn’t mind that, actually.”

There’s a moment of silence, with you caressing his hand that’s found its place on your bare thigh, before you comment that he didn’t drink much tonight, knowing that their trio of best friends enjoy their alcohol when they’re out to party.

“I could’ve driven us back home, you know?” You say. “We haven’t gone out like this in a while so it would’ve been okay if you drank.”

“Yeah but… we’re trying to get pregnant and the doctor said that alcohol consumption affects sperm health, too,” he responds, his eyes looking soft as he glances at you. “I don’t want you to be the only one cutting back on things because we’re doing this together. I mean, that cup of coffee back there was only my second one of the day. I’ve been trying to limit myself to just two a day as well since I know you’re drinking less, and I survived the week.”

“Honey…” you say, your heart melting at the thought of him making sure that you’re not doing this all on your own.

This is just the trying phase, and if he’s committed to the pregnancy this early on, you can just imagine how present and supportive he’ll be when you do get pregnant. He’ll make sure you’re not the only one making sacrifices, and he’ll make sure to give you as much comfort and support as possible.

“And also, I’m gonna have to change my lifestyle eventually for, you know, when we have our child,” he continues. “I can’t be going out, drinking, and then driving because who knows what could happen? Plus, I don’t wanna kiss our baby with alcohol breath when I get home. And I—”

“Kook, you can still do the things you used to do even when we have a child,” you interrupt. “I mean, you can still party and drink and—”

“I can’t be reckless, though, and that’s what I was for a long time,” he counters. “I was also pretty selfish and always wanted things my way. Being with you changed that and yeah, parenthood will change me, but I should at least be good enough to begin with.”

“And you are, honey; more than enough, actually. I mean, we’ve been to the doctor twice and you already took what she said to heart,” you assure him. “I just know you’re gonna be great, okay? And this is my unfiltered mind speaking but I’m kinda excited to get pregnant because of how sweet and loving and… hot you’re gonna be when you take care of me.”

It’s that laugh again, his playful and endearing laughter that triggers the butterflies in your stomach. Jungkook’s eyes sparkle under the dim streetlights that you pass by, and the way he looks at you makes you feel like everything good is at your reach while it’s just the two of you in your own world.

“I’m excited for you to get pregnant because of how loving and needy and strong and fucking sexy you’re gonna be,” he says, earning him a chuckle. “But all that aside, I just want you to know that you have me. I’m obviously here for the actual baby-making but also for the massages and cravings and morning sickness and swollen everything, okay? I promise.”

“You are such a dream, Jeon Jungkook,” you giggle as you gaze at him lovingly. “I’d live through a thousand lifetimes just so I can have this one where I married you.”

He’s left speechless now, as he softly smiles and leans over at the stoplight for a gentle kiss on your lips. You think it’s enough for him to say all the things he can’t, and you kiss him back, a little more deeply, to say the things you still don’t have words for.

The rest of the ride back home is quiet, save for Jungkook’s humming along to the songs on his playlist. You’re both giggling over something silly that happened earlier by the time you’re walking back to the apartment, and taking advantage of the late hours and the empty elevators, your husband softly kisses your neck with his arms wrapped around your waist all the way to your floor. You sigh in relief; his lips are as good as his hands when it comes to relieving your tiredness.

There were some issues you encountered in your project at the firm that you had to manage, on top of helping Taehyung with his art gallery launch. Teaching the kids is not really stressful, but handling classes of 10 children each has its own challenges. You know your body and you’re perfectly fine, which is why you didn’t mind staying up late with your friends tonight. You’d missed out on a few nights out because you opted to rest, but tonight was too important to pass up on. But still, it left you just a tiny bit exhausted and you can’t wait for your warm bath and cuddles with Jungkook.

You pause on the idea once your phone beeps and a notification pops up. Suddenly your heart is racing, and you’re left standing in the middle of your living room as Jungkook turns off the lights and says that he’ll massage you as you both take your bath.

Seeing you unmoving when he expected you to be walking up the stairs, he asks if everything’s okay.

“Yeah, it’s just…” you say, turning to him with a small smile on your face. “I just got notified. My, uh, my tracker says I ovulate in a few days so, uh… My fertile window starts now.”

It takes a few seconds for Jungkook to process the information and once it clicks, he walks towards you and mirrors your smile.

Dr. Han explained in detail how things go, and Jungkook remembers that in non-technical words, having sex during your fertile window is the best way to get pregnant, and since everything is an estimate and no means of tracking can be entirely accurate, what he he really took from that session is that having sex everyday increases your chance of conceiving. The thought turns his soft smile into a smirk, and with his eyes boring into yours, he repeats your words.

“Your window starts now,” he says, earning him a nod. “I’m fertile, too,” he adds.

You chuckle at his statement. “I know, Kook. Of course you are,” you playfully roll your eyes.

But his gaze doesn’t falter, as he cups your cheek and takes you in.

“Do you think the bath and massage can wait?” He asks, his voice suddenly low.

“They can,” you respond, feeling your throat drying up.

“You’re not too tired?”

“Not anymore,” you answer, melting into his touch, especially as his breath starts to quicken.

“Good,” he breathes out, his mouth so close to yours.

Your noses touch before you feel his lips, soft yet wanting at the thought of being able to make love to you tonight, knowing there’s a chance that it could result in a baby that you’ve both been wanting. You grant him the entrance that he seeks, and he’s quick to explore as your tongue melds with his. He’s intentional, with both his hands cradling your face, wanting to say so much with this kiss. You return it just as eagerly, and your hands do what they’ve been wanting to since earlier in the night - they slide down his clothed chest, and then his torso, until they reach his crotch where you palm his hardening dick, letting him know that you want this just as much.

He moves to place open-mouth kisses down your neck, and you moan when he sucks that sensitive part of yours at the same time that you squeeze his length, earning you a groan that sends shivers down your spine.

“Can I claim my seat now,” you tease, wanting nothing more than to ride him until you lose your breath, knowing just how much pleasure that position gives you both.

“Fuck yes, babe,” he growls, kissing you again as he starts walking back, letting you guide him towards the couch that’s experienced its fair share of your lovemaking.

He pulls away to settle on his seat, his eyes not moving away from you as he asks you to undress yourself, leaving you in nothing but your silk thong.

With his legs spread slightly wide, the leather material hugging his thick, meaty thighs, and his arms laid over the back of the couch, you can’t help but moan at the sight. Your seat looks pretty comfortable, even more so when he unzips his trousers to reveal his hardened length, big and veiny for you to slide against and down on.

He’s coaxing you, as he touches himself to get you to come closer, knowing just how much this turns you on. You surprise him, though, when you get on your knees instead and take his cock from his hand, as if showing him that you can do it better. And of course you do; your touch electrifies him, it makes him weak and pliant, it makes him give in to whatever you want. He’s a generally impatient guy, but when it comes to you, he forces himself to have self-control, to wait, to let you take your time, only because he knows how satisfying it is once you give him what he craves.

A few gentle and teasing strokes later, you take him in your mouth and you surprise him again, as you dive in and take him deep right away, unlike your usual gradual descent that’s every bit torturous and euphoric. He’s caught off guard but it’s what causes him to obscenely moan, prompting you to do the same, the vibrations sending him close to the edge. But you keep going, bopping your head up and down as you try to fit him in your mouth, and Jungkook has to gather all his strength to not falter this quickly. There’s so many other ways he wants to feel you.

Knowing he’ll come soon if you don’t stop, he cups your cheek to get your attention. The loving way you look at him is a contrast to how ruined he feels, and just as he thinks you’d chase his finger with your mouth and suck it as well, you kiss his hand instead, tracing your lips up to his tattooed arm and it’s moments like this that make him feel alive. He’s always loved chasing a high, living for the thrill and the unexpected that pushes him to try different things, and he’s somehow found that when making love to you. You could look at him shyly, reverently, or sultrily; you can lick your lips or say vulgar things or giggle sweetly - he won’t know what he’ll get, but he’ll lose his mind either way.

Wanting to satiate his need, he finally pulls you to sit on his lap, capturing your mouth in his that leaves no room for either of you to breathe. Flushed against his clothed chest, you wrap your arms around his neck to try to take in as much of him as you can. You grind against his throbbing cock, and the friction isn’t enough, as you raise yourself to slide down on him, and your joint moans fill the room.

It starts slow but you eventually pick up the pace, and it prompts him to remove his trousers that are now definitely limiting his movements. Once he’s free, he focuses on what he can give. Jungkook pulls you down as he pushes inside of you, the quick and erratic thrusts sending you in a whole other dimension. You’re meeting his movements, your pants turning into squeals as you feel him so deep inside you, hitting the edges of your physical being.

You lose it when he grips your ass to keep you in place and then captures your breast in his mouth for him to suck. You feel the pleasure all over your body; it’s overwhelming and all-consuming - you feel him everywhere, and it’s exactly how you want to be made love to.

It’s the succeeding thrusts and the bite of the sensitive part of your neck that has you mewling and arching your back in intense pleasure and you feel like you’ve lost sense for a moment, as if you’re suspended with how deep and rough he’d gone. It’s almost numbing, as you continue to grind against him as you try to catch your breath but despite the overstimulation, you can’t get enough of it, of him. You came hard but you want more.

You kiss him as you come down from your high and he takes you in, moaning as your mouths meet again. It’s different this time, though - the kiss is desperate, it feels like; there’s the usual passion but a different kind of yearning, of eagerness. Devotion, too, it seems - towards you, towards the future child you’ll have, towards the family you’ll build - as he caresses your back, his hands gliding on your skin before clutching onto you, as if he’ll lose you if he doesn’t.

“I love you,” he mumbles against your neck, repeating it like a chant that devotees do to a being they revere. “I love you, fuck baby. I love all of you.”

“I love you, Kook, so much,” you pant, hugging him loosely, as it’s the only thing you have energy to do at this moment.

His arms are wrapped around your waist and he leans to kiss you there, his mouth seemingly unable to separate from any part of you.

You meet his eyes and you just know that you mirror the way he’s fondly looking at you. Jungkook boops your nose before he gently lays you on the couch, his eyes unmoving from your form as he kneels before you to remove his shirt, his perfectly-crafted torso making you salivate even more.

Spreading your legs, he dives in your cunt, licking your lips before he sucks your clit. You still haven’t recovered from earlier but you don’t mind. You’re still somewhat in a daze, and everything Jungkook does is both mind blowing and calming, intense yet numbing. Your leg starts to shake so he stops but you don’t complain. Just like him it seems, you want this drawn out.

“I want you inside me, baby,” you moan. “I want… I want to feel you all over me again. Please,” you beg. “I need you.”

The way you plead does things to him, so he lays by your side, slides inside you from behind, and takes you into his hold. With your body shifted and your legs raised, he cups your breast and sucks on your neck, as if cradling you while making you feel all of him - his mouth, his dick, his fingers… He’s thrusting against you so hard that you’re screaming in pleasure, asking him not to stop, and moaning out his name. You lose control of your limbs and you feel like your body now has a mind of its own but his kiss grounds you, and you hold onto him tightly for anchor as he does the same with you.

You come again - another hard crash - and he follows soon after, abrupt and drawn out that he feels like he’s suspended as well. He stays inside you, wanting to make sure that nothing of him is wasted.

You’re both panting from tiredness, your damp foreheads against each other, and it’s nothing but your warm breaths and slick bodies that you feel. You can’t really feel anything else, and that warm bath sounds good right about now.

Jungkook seems to read your mind, as he pulls away first and grabs your clothes. He reaches out his hand that you take, and he holds you close to him as you both walk up the stairs and into your bathroom.

You both don’t say much; the smiles and the soft kisses on the cheek seem to say enough. Maybe you’re just both really spent, but Jungkook exerting all that effort on you does not stop him from drawing your bath, sitting opposite you, and then massaging your feet and calves. He asks you to sit in between his legs right after so he can massage your shoulders, too, and the sigh you let out tells him you’re satisfied with his as well.

“That good, baby?” He still asks, and you lazily smile at him and nod.

“You might fall asleep here,” he chuckles, pulling you closer to him so he can nuzzle your neck.

“I wouldn’t mind that, as long as you sleep here with me,” you hum.

“Our tub is big but it isn’t that big,” he laughs again. “Come on, I’ll wash us up.”

You follow him and head to the shower where he promptly rinses the suds off your hair and your body. He’s gentle and thorough; charming, too, as his boyish smiles appear again when he sees you look satisfied. He helps you dress up before you both head to your room, your soft linens feeling like clouds after all that you did.

Jungkook goes under the covers and lays his head on your chest like he often does. Tired as you are, you don’t want to sleep yet, needing to have this moment with him first.

He’s rarely quiet, so when he is, you know something’s on his mind. You comb your fingers through his hair to calm him down; massaging him like this is also your way of letting him know that can say whatever he wants, and express whatever he wants.

“Do you think we did it?” He finally asks, sounding soft and unsure. “Do you think that was it?”

With his hand caressing your belly, you feel his anxiousness and his desire.

“I don’t know, honey,” you reply. “These things are never accurate. I’m just glad my cycle’s finally regular so at least I can better estimate when I’m due to ovulate and we can work from there. Maybe we did it. Maybe we didn’t. We won't know until I show symptoms and I take a test. And that’s weeks from now.”

The silence isn’t uncomfortable despite what seems to be a million things running through his mind. You’ve wanted this for so long but you’ve learned to be patient, to be trusting, to be accepting of whatever happens. You’d like to think that for all that you went through and for all the good that you’ve done in this life, the universe will grant you this wish. But you don’t want to think too much of how much you want it. You’re scared to be disappointed; more importantly, you’re scared to disappoint him.

“I want this so much,” he says, his voice low and desperate. “I… I knew I did but I didn’t know just how much until the other month when… when we had a false alarm.”

You recall that day. It was some time after you’d come back from Busan, the conversations from that trip perhaps clouding your mind, the excitement overtaking you that you’d thought you could be pregnant despite the minimal signs.

But you took the test anyway. It was negative, and Jungkook hugged you and said it was okay. You’d only gone to the doctor once that time, and you were both still adjusting and making changes in your respective lifestyles. He didn’t seem upset; he comforted you, cradled you that night, and made love to you softly as he whispered how perfect you are, and how much he loves you.

“I… I didn’t want to show it but it made me sad that it didn’t happen then,” he continues. “And I guess it hit me exactly how much I wanted it. To be able to create someone who’s half of the person I love the most and half of me… that’s amazing, right? I just suddenly couldn’t wait to give all my love to that child; I couldn’t wait for us to be gifted that.”

You’re unable to form words as you listen to him. It takes you back to the time when he didn’t want to have children yet, content with just the both of you and your little adventures and time alone. Jungkook wanted you all to himself, and he wanted him to be the only one you focused on. He’d hated himself for being selfish, but you suppose you both needed to have that time for each other - to learn, to love, to fight, to forgive, to trust, and then to love even harder, even braver, even kinder.

“It’ll happen, Kook,” is all you can say. “One day, it will. I’d like to believe that it’s meant for us, just as you and I were meant for each other after all these years.”

“I don’t want to think that I wasted so much of our time just because I wanted it to be just us,” he admits. “But sometimes, that fills my mind. What if we had tried earlier?”

“Do you think that helps? Thinking of the what if’s?”

“I know it doesn’t,” he responds. “But I guess the fear pushes me somehow, you know? I could be living a different life where I don’t have all this, and so I want to make sure that I take care of all that I have now - you, this marriage, this home. It’s ironic that I’ve always wanted to live my life without fear, only to realize now that fears could be good, too, that having something you’re afraid of means you’re actually living, because then, something’s good enough to lose.”

“And that something is so good that you can’t not have it,” you add.

He looks up at you with an assuring smile, knowing that you feel what he’s feeling, that you understand what’s bothering him.

“I worry, too,” you continue. “I knew when I’d fallen in love with you that I wanted a family, to have a child that bears both of us, you know? Someone who can receive the overflowing love I have for you. And not having that scares me.”

With your words, Jungkook shifts himself to face you, cradling you in his arms and kissing your forehead.

“You see what you did right there?” You ask him.

“What?”

“I tell you I’m scared, and the first thing you do is hold me,” you say, feeling the emotions overtake you. “We’re each other’s fears. I’m afraid to lose you. I worry when you’re in pain or stressed or confused or unwell. And I know it’s the same with you. But we’re each other’s shields, too. We protect each other, we gain strength from each other. That’s how we’ll get through this. That’s how we’ll get through anything. I’ll hold you when you’re scared and you’ll take me in your arms just the same. The fears are bearable that way.”

“They are,” he whispers, kissing you deeply. “We’re all we need, baby. You’re all I need.”

With your entangled limbs under the covers, you and Jungkook breathe each other in.

“I don’t know if we were successful tonight,” you hum, slowly succumbing to sleep. “We can always try again tomorrow.”

“And the day after. And the day after that. And then after that,” he responds, his cheeky smile making a sleepy appearance. “We can try everyday. We’ll make it happen; we’ll hold each other again if it doesn’t.”

“We will,” you answer. “We always will.”

Jungkook kisses your nose then your forehead, but it’s his pecks on your cheek that fully wake you up from an incredible slumber. It felt long and it was exactly what you needed after a night of partying and fucking your gorgeous husband, who happens to be smiling sweetly at you right now with his doe-eyes and semi-mussed hair.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” he giggles. “I was wondering when you were gonna wake up.”

“What time is it?” You grumble, stretching your limbs and feeling the tension slightly dissipate.

“Almost 1.”

“Seriously?” You gasp. “I’ve never woken up this late.”

“I know. I was kinda getting worried,” he chuckles. “But then again, we did sleep around 4:30 AM so it’s fine.”

“What did you do to me, honey,” you laugh now.

“Well, you know, the usual,” he teases. “And I’m not done with you yet. I promised you days of this.”

He sneaks his hand in between your thighs and presses lightly against your cunt, earning him a low moan.

“Hmm, you did,” you hum. “But I’d really love a hug right now.”

With your outstretched arms, Jungkook melts into your hold, burying his face into your neck like he loves to do. You smell of peony and vanilla; you feel soft and comfortable and every beautiful thing in the world. He’d live right here if he could.

But it’s the middle of the day and you’ve already missed your morning medication.

“I love this but babe, you need to eat so you can take your medicine,” he says, pulling away now. “I bought us some lunch so can you please wash up already?”

“Fine, Mr.,” you playfully roll your eyes. “I’ll be down in a bit. I’ll see you there.”

You walk into the kitchen with Jungkook humming to a song and shaking his hips while he transfers the stew from the pot into a big bowl. He places that on the dining table before taking the heated rice from the microwave. Dressed in sweatpants and a tank top under a loose zip-up hoodie that lets his shoulder tattoos peek out - a weakness of yours, you’ve learned - he looks like the perfect husband who’s sexy in every way.

You’ve noticed these past weeks how he’s been more keen on getting chores done. You’ve always divided the tasks but recently, he’s taking more initiative - planning meals, listing grocery items, and scheduling laundry day. Those are things you think about on a daily basis because managing a household is tough work; you can’t help but think that he’s started taking some of the load from you, perhaps in preparation for when you get pregnant, and especially when a little one joins your family.

The thought makes you smile. It’s why when he tells you that the food’s ready and pulls out your chair, you sit on his lap instead, wrapping your arms around his neck and tucking your face in there as well.

“Thank you, Kook,” you huff. “It smells good.”

“It does. Too bad I didn’t cook it,” he chuckles, returning your hug.

“I know. You don’t have the patience for that.”

He tickles you in response but you just hug him more tightly.

“Hey, I know I turn you on when I’m being a dreamy househusband, but the food will get cold,” he says, turning to face you now, a rare sight indeed since he’s often the hard-headed and pouty one. “Let us eat this first, and then I can eat you out after. Deal?”

You bite his cheek in feigned annoyance before you move to your chair, taking in the dish in front of you.

“What time did you buy this?” You ask, realizing only after the first spoonful just how hungry you are, reminding you of a certain physical activity you both did just hours ago.

“Hmm, around 10,” he answers. “I was up at 8 and was gonna drink milk only to find out that we don’t have any. So I went to the supermarket and got eggs and a few other things, too. Then I passed by the restaurant on the way home.”

“Dreamy househusband indeed,” you wink at him. “But how were you up that early after last night?”

“Taehyung, that annoying child,” Jungkook groans. “He kept calling and texting so I just picked up. He woke up early and couldn’t find his engagement ring for Ailee, and he doesn’t know if he lost it or if he proposed to her but he doesn’t remember anything because he was so drunk. And she was called for an emergency at work so he couldn't find out. He also doesn’t wanna ask her himself so I said I’d ask her if my best friend did anything stupid and well, yeah, he did propose; she just doesn’t know that he doesn’t remember.”

You’re cracking up by the end of your husband’s narration and you feel for the man. “Oh, poor Taehyung. What a terrible way to go about asking someone to marry them.”

“Well, I never actually asked you, did I?” Jungkook says.

“Well, you kinda didn’t want to, did you?” you shoot back, earning you an adorable frown.

Appeasing him, you take his hand and kiss it. “It doesn’t matter. We said I do, you kissed me for a millisecond, and then here we are!”

“Baby!” He groans again. “Why are you bringing up the wedding kiss, AKA the most embarrassing kiss of my life?”

“Because so-called loverboy Jungkook kissed his bride for a millisecond, that’s why,” you laugh.

“I did make up for it, though,” he reminds you. “And I still do. I mean, you can’t seem to get enough of my kisses now.”

“You’re getting cockier and cockier by the year, honey,” you tease. “Even if, yes, you are absolutely correct. I can’t imagine living without your kisses.”

“Good. Because these lips can’t imagine not kissing you,” he smirks, and all you can do is cover your face in laughter and slight embarrassment, but he scrunches his nose as he watches you lose it, and your heart softens again.

He could be cheeky as much as he wants; deep down, he’ll always be that gentleman who loves making you laugh and smile.

You both finish your meal then you take your medicine. You insist on doing the dishes this time and it doesn’t take long. You’re full from eating so you return to your seat next to Jungkook where you both video call with Taehyung and the rest of your friends as he presents his predicament.

“Just be honest with her,” you advise. “Honesty and communication are incredibly important in a marriage, Tae. Take it from me. Who knows? Maybe she doesn’t remember how it happened, either.”

“And then you can just propose to her again,” Jungkook suggests. “Seriously, dude. Being honest is probably one of the hardest things to do, but it’s freeing more than anything when you share things with your partner. It just sucks that you have to share your stupidity but yeah, she’s crazy about you so I’m sure she’ll still want to marry you.”

Taehyung rants again but decides that listening to the only married couple in your friend group is his best course of action, so he says he will and will keep everyone posted.

Wanting to have your only caffeine intake for the day, you walk towards the counter to boil water for your tea and then walk back to Jungkook. You lean on the edge of the table as you watch him remain seated and mirror your smile. You think about what he said earlier about being honest. You’re also reminded of your conversation last night and how open and vulnerable he was. You recall the moments where he’s trusted you and followed your lead. You think back at the instances where you were the same. You’ve both come such a long way, and the thought sparks a certain kind of desire in you, something that he sees.

He reaches out his hand and you take it. He guides you to his lap where you comfortably sit, aligning your clothed cunt to his cock, anticipating the friction and what would come out of it. You kiss each other deeply, both your hands mapping each other out. He pulls down your nightgown; you unzip his jacket and sneak your hands underneath his top. He’s smooth and taut and absolutely perfect; his hardened nipples tell you that he’s just as turned on as you are.

Rocking against his hips, he decides that he absolutely needs to taste you, so Jungkook nudges you and guides you to the table where you lay, your legs spread out to show him the view that he craves.

His tongue is warm against your folds. He presses it against your clit before twirling it around, knowing exactly how you want this to go. You like it slow at first, with kisses on the sides and underneath your thighs where you’re sensitive, before wanting it fast, rough, and desperate, as Jungkook sucks and nibbles and locks your thighs in his arms, pulling you closer to the edge so he can bury his face in between them where he also would like to live if he could.

It’s like he’s been starved as he leaves no inch untouched. Your legs are shaking now, your body begging for release and he feels it; he feels the tension in your limbs and hears your hypnotizing moans. These make him want you to wrap around him so he can feel your warmth, too, so he can be sucked into your velvet walls and drown in your essence.

He pulls away then undresses himself and then you, leaving you both heaving and bare, desperate for more of your scent and your kisses and your touch and your sounds. He strokes himself a little before pulling you closer again, this time for his cock to slide inside your wet entrance, and the moan that escapes him is obscene yet full of want and yearning.

With your legs suspended in air, he thrusts into you - slow at first, teasing even, as he draws it out before going rough and deep, sending shockwaves all over his body with how well you’re taking him, and how hard you’re letting him go as you ask for more and more and more.

His hands explore your bare torso - hands fondling your swell breasts, fingers pinching your pert nipples, and palms gripping your waist to keep you steady. You kiss each other for most of it all, adding to your pleasure but also tempering it, as your mouths capture your moans and the curses you both let out.

“So good, baby,” you groan, your deep, sultry voice still surprising him after all this time. “You fit me so, so well.”

“I’m made for you, baby,” he growls, assaulting your neck with nibbles that have you ascending even more. “Fuck, you’re so perfect for me.”

Your cries of yes urge him further and he quickens his pace, knowing from your sounds that you’re close and his erratic thrusting says that so is he. With your chest heaving and your arms weakening from supporting your weight, you crash hard, and your elbows buckle from the intensity but he catches you, his arms cradling you before he lays your back on the table while he tries to reach his peak.

You recover, propping one arm on the surface and the other, pulling him close to you.

“Come for me, baby,” you whisper, licking the shell of his ear right after. “Want you to fill me up so good. Please.”

You meet his thrusts and then clench around him. It’s what does it for him, as he releases a long groan that almost makes you come another time. Your pants match his and he hugs you tightly before kissing your neck.

He’s sweating and unsurprisingly so, but it makes him look even hotter, with the softness in his eyes turning into determination in seconds. He bites your lip before licking your mouth.

“I’m not done with you yet,” he smirks. “Gotta cover all bases and take you from every angle, baby.” Pulling away, he releases you from his hold. “Will you turn around for me? We’ve got the rest of the day for this.”

You’re left speechless at his words but you’re eager and pliant as you’re under his spell. You turn around as he asks and the feel of his tongue on your cunt overstimulates yet electrifies you. There’s no other way you want to spend your Saturday. You know your Sunday and every day after that will be the same. But Jungkook is an amazing lover, and you know that after all the roughness, he’ll hold you gently, pepper you with soft kisses, and tell you how much he loves you so you won’t ever forget.

It’s weeks later when you pick up the phone and make a call.

“Hey, babe,” Jungkook’s sweet voice greets you on the other end of the line. “I’m heading to McDonald’s. The meal served on the plane was so little and I’m still hungry. Do you want anything?”

“Just, uh, just fries,” you mumble, as you pace back and forth in your living room.

“That’s all?” He asks, knowing that you always want that with a sundae. “Do you want me to get something from somewhere else?”

“No, I’ve had dinner, Kook,” you say. “But uh, do you think you can pass by the pharmacy? I… I need a pregnancy test.”

You can hear a pin drop with the silence from both your ends. But it could also probably just be your mind going blank as you vocalize the words, a request that holds with it so much as you try to think of what will happen after the result comes out.

“Baby…” Jungkook manages to mumble.

“I didn’t realize that my period’s been late a few days,” you explain. “But the cramps have been bearable and I didn’t think much of the nausea but, maybe… I mean, there’s a chance that—”

You only ramble when you’re nervous and Jungkook can feel your anxiety even through the phone.

“Baby,” he interrupts you. “It’s okay. Are you feeling any pain right now?”

“No… I just… Come home soon, please. I… I need to be with you.”

“I’ll be home soon. I love you.”

He drops the call and makes his order through the window, then he asks Mr. Yu to head to the nearby pharmacy where Jungkook runs to the counter for the pregnancy test and then asks his chauffeur to quickly but safely drive to you. He wants nothing more than to be with you right now and calm your nerves, and while his mind is going haywire at the thought of a possible pregnancy, he knows he needs to be the strong one; he needs to be the one to keep you both grounded, even if another false alarm will crush both your hearts.

The time is ticking by too slowly and he opts to send you messages instead, updating you of where he is and how much longer it’ll take for him to get to you, hoping that this could at least help while you wait for him to arrive.

Back in your loft, you continue pacing around the living room. You’d been too busy with work to take note of your tracker, which is why you hadn’t realized until today that your period is late. Jungkook’s been in Japan since Thursday and took a late afternoon flight this Monday so he can get home to you right away. You know he’s worried; even with his calm voice, you know deep down he’s just as anxious as you are. You appreciate that he’s holding the fort for both of you; he probably could tell from your rambling that you’re a little out of sorts, and for good reason.

Since deciding on actively trying to get pregnant, there’s been an air of tension about the topic even if it’s something you both openly talk about. Perhaps it’s wanting it so much that the chance of not achieving it is a heartbreaking thought.

You remind yourself, however, that you had a go at it not long ago; you’ve been following Dr. Han’s recommendations of cutting back on things as well so the hopeful part of you thinks that there’s a big chance it could happen. Every part of you wishes it’s happy tears tonight and not sad ones.

Your door unlocks and you stand from the couch, meeting Jungkook, who places the food on the nearby flat surface, and hugging him tightly.

“I missed you,” he hums against your hair. “You don’t have to be scared, okay? I’m with you. We’re doing this together, and whatever happens, we’ll hold each other. We promised, remember?”

“I remember,” you mumble. Facing him, you say you’ll take the test in the guest bathroom. “We’ll wait and check together, honey. I love you, whatever happens.”

“I love you, whatever happens.”

You exit the bathroom and find him seated on the bed, his coat removed and his tie loosened. His hair is a little mussed, perhaps from constantly combing through it as a way to ease his nerves. You sit on his lap - your safe place - and hug him again, letting your joint breaths remind you that you share the anticipation and the fear and the excitement with him.

Your alarm beeps to signal that the waiting time is over, and he pulls you close for a deep kiss before you stand up, and you drown in his taste and his scent, knowing that you’ll need all forms of his comfort tonight.

Walking together, you stand by the counter and stare at the stick that’s been turned over. He’s hugging you from behind and you pull his arms tighter around you. With a deep breath, you turn the test over again to face you, and the way that he buries his face in your neck while he whispers I love you in your ears is what makes your tears fall.

Two lines signifying your hopes and dreams of a family that you’ll love with all your imperfect heart.

“We’re having a little one, babe,” he huffs. “We… We’re gonna be parents.”

You finally face him, your tears uncontrollable now, and all you can do is nod.

“Yes,” you whisper. “We… we’re—”

His chest buries your cries, as you’re unable to form words at the gift that you’ve been given. His strong arms cradle you against him and it’s all you really need - just his love, for you, for the child you’ll have, for the family you’ll build.

Jungkook kisses your forehead before kneeling down to face your belly that’s started to nurture your baby.

“I can’t wait to meet you, little one,” he whispers. “You’re gonna be so, so loved. Mommy and Daddy will make sure of that.”

There’s so much emotion, as you watch Jungkook sweetly smile at what’s now housing the most important being in this world right now. His glassy doe-eyes, small sniffles, and the way he caresses you give you a glimpse of how he’ll probably be starting now. He already looks at you with so much love and you can just imagine how much more affectionate he’d be with that little human growing inside you. He’ll be giving and showing love to two now; there’s something incredibly special about that.

The low grumble of your stomach breaks the moment, however, but your joint laughter is welcomed, as he nuzzles your torso and kisses it in places before standing up to face you again.

“I know you said you just wanted fries but I got you that chicken and mozzarella sandwich you like and strawberry McFlurry, too,” he says, wiping away your tears. “I thought that if it was negative, you’d want to eat your sadness away, and if it was positive, you’d be so happy you’d want to eat more. It could also be that you’re just really hungry.”

“That’s a fair assessment,” you giggle. “But I had early dinner and I think the anxiety got to me. Thank you, honey. You already know what I need before I even say it.”

“I'm a certified dream husband and a dad-in-training,” he winks, making your heart soar. “But also… is it okay to feed our child… grease?”

You pinch his cheeks adoringly. “Just this once, I guess. And then it’s all healthy stuff for me starting tomorrow.”

“You mean for us,” he corrects.

“For us,” you nod.

You both eat your unhealthy comfort food, with baby talk dominating throughout dinner, such as what you’ll name them, how you’ll tell your family and friends, and how the home setup is gonna be like. You both decide on waiting until this weekend for the announcement, wanting to go to the doctor first and just savoring this moment between the both of you. You’ll eventually transform Jungkook’s office space in your room to a nursery and contact Hoseok to look for houses that you’ll move into after you give birth.

Jungkook asks you to have a shower with him, admitting that he feels quite clingy given the news. You don’t mind at all, especially when he hugs you from behind under the warm water and caresses your stomach again while he languidly kisses your lips.

He makes love to you once you’re in bed.

It’s different from what you’d both done during your “baby-making week,” as he liked to call it, when he took you on different surfaces and on different angles all over your apartment. You’d even done it in the car in your building’s basement parking because he wanted to “cover all bases,” although you know he just wanted an excuse because that reckless part of him just liked the thrill of fucking you in a not-so-private space. You loved every bit of that week though, and even the days that followed, where despite his late nights, early mornings, and business trips, he made sure to express his love in different ways.

But tonight, he takes it slow and simple, as he gently yet purposefully pushes into you while he looks into your eyes with so much adoration. He intertwines his fingers with yours, filling all your spaces, and cups your cheek while he whispers words of love and praise.

It’s a gradual buildup and perhaps it’s why your orgasm is drawn out as well. It’s a different kind of pleasure, as you feel suspended in air while being pulled down before the acceleration comes when he sucks your breast, as if you’re orgasming again while coming down from it. But it’s Jungkook - some days he’s rough and teasing; sometimes he’s gentle and serious.

Everyday it’s love though. Whatever form or pace it is, it’s the only love you want to know.

It’s tough keeping news as big as your pregnancy from your family and friends, but you and Jungkook wanted to consult with the doctor first so you can answer their questions because you know that there’ll be many of them, including when you’re due. It’s why you canceled dinner with the girls that Wednesday and why you passed up on lunch with your siblings that Friday.

You made it to Saturday, where you and Jungkook offered to host your monthly hangouts with all your friends in your apartment and then casually said over dinner that you’re pregnant. It was silent for a good minute before they burst into screams.

Nari and Jimin cried, which you didn’t expect. Taehyung burst into an opera-like song to express his emotions, Yeji was taking a video of the chaos, and Minhyuk was the only sane one who hugged you tightly and said that your child will be so lucky to have a set of crazy and loving uncles and aunties who will spoil them to no end.

It’s Sunday now, and it just so happens that your and Jungkook’s grandparents are in town to attend a gala this week.

Enjoying your lunch in the indoor dining hall of your parents’ estate, the scene is a common one - lavish dishes on the table that Seokjin chows down while little Seungjun sits on his lap, Soojin announcing that she scored 3 goals in their recent soccer game and that her twin brother Sunghoon placed first in their school’s poetry-writing contest, big boy Jihoon feeding his little sister, and the rest of the adults talking to each other from across the table, leaving the room abuzz with laughter and squeals.

Your grandfather asks everyone to quiet down, wanting to hear how everyone’s doing, even if he’s really just looking at you and Jungkook.

“And how about both of you, my dear?” He asks. “How have things been since your visit to Busan?”

“We’ve been well,” you reply, immediately taking Jungkook’s hand. You don’t really have a plan of how you’ll tell everyone; just like how things have always been, you just want it simple. The news is a big deal, but you don’t want anything grand when it comes to announcing it. “We’re both busy with work but we’ve been making time for each other.”

“And your health?” Your grandmother asks.

“Back to normal. The new medication has been good so I think I’m all clear,” you smile.

“That’s wonderful,” your grandfather replies, pausing a bit, perhaps to let you continue should there be more you want to say.

You can tell he’s trying to control himself from asking something else; it’s not lost on you that your grandparents have been very vocal about their desire for you and Jungkook to have a child, considering that, in their words, they “don’t have much time left on earth.” You feel for them. This union was a dream and you hadn’t realized until the car ride this morning just how much a child would mean to them.

Your grandfather turns to Seoyeon, ready to ask her this time but you get ahead of him.

“Actually, I’m not really back to normal,” you say, earning you worried looks from everyone. “I actually… Uh, you see. I… We—”

“We’re pregnant,” Jungkook finishes for you. You nudge him at the sudden announcement but he just chuckles. “You were rambling.”

“I…” You turn to look at your family who are all wide-eyed, perhaps still processing the words - except for the kids, of course, who are all still munching on their food, with Soojin asking why everyone is so quiet.

“Jungkook and I are expecting,” you say now, more calmly and more certain. “I’m due in the summer and we’re really excited. And nervous. But we can’t wait to meet our little one soon. And—”

The emotions overflow at this moment - both your parents and siblings are all teary-eyed, expressing their joy and excitement in so many ways. Your mother walks to you for a tight hug, and your father does the same to Jungkook until you’re hugging each member of both of your families - with your grandparents taking most of the time - including the kids who just follow what the adults are doing.

Soojin squeals when you explain in kid language what’s happening, prompting her to hug your belly then remarking that you look the same.

“Your Auntie’s belly will grow big soon,” Jungkook says, rubbing your stomach. “Can I ask all of you to take care of her with me?” He asks the little ones now, kneeling in front of them and mirroring their adorable smiles.

“Yes, Uncle Kookie!” They say in unison, prompting you to kneel alongside him and hugging each of the kids.

Their kisses are long and sweet. They’re much older now so they feel more responsibility when it comes to you and the baby, so they ask a lot of questions like how big they are right now, what they’re eating, and how they’ll come out of your belly. You answer each question, trying to explain as simply as you can with all the patience in the world.

Jungkook watches you, knowing that this - and all the times that you’re with them - is just a peek of how you’ll be as a mother. And he can’t wait to witness and experience all that with you. There’s so much to be excited about; he knows every moment now is precious and one you both will have to savor.

You return to your seat once everyone’s recovered, even if your mother is still crying and your grandparents still have glassy eyes.

“I know it took a while,” you say. “But Kook and I just wanted to make sure that we were having this child for our own reasons. And well, considering how we started, we wanted to enjoy ourselves first and not feel like we’re missing out on things.”

“And that’s alright, sweetheart,” Jungkook’s grandmother assures you. “We’re just glad that this happened on your own terms this time.”

“It did,” Jungkook answers. “We had a lot of growing up to do but uh, that won’t stop. I… I’ll still need help.”

“You have us,” Junghyun says now. “Min-jun, Seokjin, and I will do the big brother thing and guide you, Kook. You don’t have to worry about that.”

Seoyeon winks at you to say that you have her, Yeri, and Mina as well. You and Jungkook have such amazing people to guide you and that you look up to; you can’t wait to get to know yourself and each other in this aspect as well.

The rest of the afternoon is spent with your parents and grandparents talking to you and Jungkook, expressing their joy and hope that everything will all be okay. Your siblings pull you both aside to talk about the next steps from parenting sessions, prenatal yoga, house hunting, and everything in between. They make it all exciting, knowing that the worries will come and go, and you appreciate them all for that.

Later that night, you lay in bed while Jungkook stays by your side, propped up with one arm while his hand caresses your stomach once more, something he’s been doing every night before you both sleep.

“Today was good,” you say, as you place your hand over his, caressing the fingers that wander around your bare skin. “It somehow reminded me of that lunch when they proposed this marriage and now look where we are. We’ve come such a long way, Kook. I’m glad we can finally share the joy with them.”

Jungkook responds with a hum, his eyes glued to your stomach, traces of deep thoughts in them.

“What are you thinking about, honey?” You ask, cupping his cheek. He closes his eyes briefly to savor your touch.

“Just… everything, I guess,” he huffs. “Everyone said so many things. My brother even sent me a long text that I still have to respond to. But I was thinking about the kids. They’re still a rowdy bunch but they’re so good to each other, babe. They’re so good to people. And they have such affection towards their parents. I… I want that for our child. I want them to be good to others, to be loving to others. I want them to love us.”

“Honey, they will,” you smile, “because we’re raising them. You have such a big heart, Kook. I just know that’ll be enough to make them kind and loving people.”

“I just… I just want to be a good dad,” he admits, revealing another layer of his vulnerability. “I want them to have fun with me, to trust that I’ll protect them always. I want to be someone they’ll be proud of; I want them to be happy that I’m their father. I want to do right by them, by you.”

“I bet as they grow up, they’ll want to do the same with you. That’s how loved they’ll feel,” you say, turning to your side so you can face him and he can focus only on you. “You’re already doing amazing, honey. They’ll feel how much you love them by how much you love me. And you love me so beautifully. That makes all the difference.”

“Thank you for making me so happy,” he responds after a beat of silence, his heartfelt words piercing through you. “I didn’t think I could feel more for you than I already do.”

“Me, too,” you smile, kissing him deeply. “We’re gonna be okay. Things will start to change but I want you to know that I’ll love you through it all, okay?”

“And I’ll love you through it all just the same,” he kisses your forehead now.

With you cradled in Jungkook’s arms as you listen to his steadying heartbeat and soft snores, you know that however hard this journey is gonna be, he’ll hold you no matter what, and you’ll be strong for each other through it all.

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hungharrington · 1 year

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Your last ask’s tag shfjfkdk BYEEEE. Giving Steve a handjob in the theatre, (bonus points if it’s a super fancy one byeeeee)

ALSO giving him a handy whilst staying at your parents’ house for the holidays because you both know you are way too loud to do anything else discreetly. He’s such a good boyfriend, and he really is acting like the model son in law, but you just want to ruin him ❤️😮‍💨 kissing his face, cooing at him, lifting your top and bouncing your boobs around his face, just doing the most so that he’ll whine

you 🤝 me obsessed with giving steve a handy in places you absolutely shouldn’t hehe

at your parents house oh my god yes - and look, steve’s known to be respectable enough around town, with his parents name and all that, he really shouldn’t be too worried but it’s undeniable how sweet it is that he is worried :) he just wants this weekend away with your parents to go well, okay? he’s been forbidden to date a girl once before and while you’re certainly worth the scraped hands from sneaking in windows, steve’s not sure his knees can handle it— so, yeah, he wants this weekend to go as swimmingly as it can. you, however, are feeling devious. you’re not outright with it, you know better than to do that especially around your parents but you certainly are pulling out the stops that you know drive steve mad — like those sweet short summer dresses he drools over every time, but forgoing a bra of any sort this time. it’s a lethal combination and you know it. best of all, is the like unspoken ban on sex between the two of you; even if your parents were trusting enough to put you in the same room, it’s only because they share a wall with it, meaning unless you figure out how to bounce on his cock without wrecking your vocal chords, sex is out the window

steve knows this- so really, he should be anticipating a little bit of tomfoolery from you — but it doesn’t cross his mind when you come and meet him out by pool. in fact, nothing crosses his mind at all when he see you in the sundress, rucked up in your hands, showing off a dangerous amount of thigh as you wind around the pool loungers to his. you smile down at him, shirtless and stretched out to soak up some sun. “budge up,” you say, knees leaning into the cushion and steve obeys without a word, scooching over so you get sit beside him— there’s not quite enough room for two people so you end pressed against him, head leaning against his shoulder as your hand comes to rest on his chest. steve curls his arm around you with a content hum, keeping a generous distance from anything too touchy — his hand firmly on your shoulder.

“what are you up to, hm?” he asks, pushing his sunglasses up atop his head. your fingers start to stroke lightly, soft touches along his chest as you think about your reply. “just missed you,” you say, pressing a quick kiss to his shoulder. your hand on his chest shifts a bit, swirling little patterns down across his tummy, which tenses for a moment beneath you. “miss touching you,” you murmur, pressing another kiss to his skin, adoring the way steve’s sucks in careful breath. his hand on your shoulder gives a light squeeze and he smiles, leaning over to brush his lips against your temple, “me too, honey,” he assures, voice low, “but we can’t—“ he swallows a bit as your hand wanders about, fingertips teasing along his v-line tantalisingly, just enough to get him interested. “your- your parents.” he reminds you, voice a bit shakier this time— his eyes are glued to your hand, muscles rippling under the skin wherever it scratches over.

“just be quiet then,” you counter, a teasing smile toying on your lips. “and be quick.” this time, when your hand travels back down, you follow his v-line all the way down to his cock, which twitches the moment your hand nears it. steve is protesting in an instant, a little ‘wait, wait, wait’ but it dies off when you palm against his cock and shit, the couple days apart must be getting to him because just one touch is enough to have his head dropping back, giving a raspy exhale, “fuck, honey.” his hardness grows beneath your touches quickly, cock pushing up against the fabric of his shorts but he’s still got that niggling worry in the back of his mind, “baby,” he pants a bit, his hips shifting about under your touch. he doesn’t try pull your hand away, just fixes you with a pleading look, “your- your parents could…” but his sentence trails off when your hand snakes up to tug on the front of your dress, letting your tits peak out and steve full on groans, lust clouding his gaze as he sinks his teeth into his bottom lip. your spit in your hand and resume, slinking your hand back down his body, this time you sneak your hand into his shorts, fingers curling around his hot, leaking cock and steve stammers out another breathy moan— bringing his fist up to his mouth to try quieten himself.

you pump his cock, starting slow, purposefully ignoring the head of it and instead starting to press more kisses into his shoulder and along his collar. steve’s breaths come a little heavier, coming out with a hint of a whine to them. you pull him out of his shorts, hidden behind your own body and greedily stare; his tip so pink and the vein down the side you always want to drag your tongue along. “missed this cock,” you hum sweetly, beginning to twist your hand, stroking him faster. steve’s tummy clenches, hips chasing your hand instinctively and when you finally thumb over his sensitive tip, steve whimpers loudly. “and your noises,” you say, almost teasingly, nosing along his collarbones and dragging your tits against his chest. “but you’re being too loud, stevie,” you pout, purposefully rubbing along his slit repeatedly in that way you know makes steve fall apart— he whines, jagged sweet little noises that accompany every harsh breath of his. “baby,” he whimpers again, pleading. “please, please, please,”

you pick up the pace, the slick sound of your hand on his cock getting louder and louder as you try bring him to the edge. steve lets out another soft moan, his volume climbing in his desperation. “christ, fuck, honey, y’gotta- ah, y-you feel so good,” and his eyes switch between clenched tight and staring hungrily at your tits. “c’mon, baby, gotta be quiet,” you insist in a rasp, “you can be good and quiet right? or else i’ll have to…” you change your pace, slowing til you’re barely stroking him and steve is hips buck up against you in an instant. “no!” he cries, too loud, then lowers his voice, brown eyes finding yours as he begins to plea. “no, please, i- fuck, i’ll be quiet and— oh my god, uh,” and his voice breaks off into another whine that he smothers into his fist as you work his cock faster again. steve tilts his head back, baring his throat, mouth open as another whiney warbles out, mixing with his whispered curses, “fuck, fuck, ah, fuck,” and it’s not until you speak with a tone of faux-innocence, nodding down to his cock and coo at him, “y'gonna let him cum? :( he just wants to cum, baby” and steve just falls apart, hot cum spurting from his tip and you just keep stroking him, teasing out those pathetic whimpery noises as he writhes in pleasure, all hot and bothered- he’s so noisy too, little, “thank you, ah, fuck, thank you” slipped between his moans as he fucks your hand through his orgasm, coated in his own cum. you actually consider stroking him through to another one, with his cum as lube, when there’s a faint call through the house for lunch and you just grin, releasing his cock and licking up what’s on your hand. steve’s chest is heaving, eyes still cinched shut as he tries to reel himself in — already thinking of ways to get revenge on you for making him sit through a lunch with you parents with his cum-stained shorts, especially considering you seem to enjoy his blushing face far too much

#have this!#im straying from my loving soft smut roots #i'll be back to em soon i gotta finish the sweet talk / sour talk series thing #but GOD yes anon ur so me #i do just want to hear him whine <3 especially in places we shouldn't be doing things hehe #jay writes #steve harrington smut #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve smut #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x reader smut

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harrywavycurly · 4 months

Text

Trouble Next Door: That Felt Good

Masterlist: Here

TW: One tiny mention of violence(keep your hands to yourself)

Tag List: @sinczir @rach5ive @bruher @kellyxo1 @tiannamortis @forrestfantasy94 @angelina16torres-blog @tlclick73 @gretavankleep37 @melaninjhs @amira0303 @robyn-118 @jaydaaasworld @squidscottjeans @rockstarmunsons @alanamarie @dandelionnfluff @aol19 @eddiesguitarskills @vampdaisy @br66klynbaby @raven-rust @daisyridleyyyy @i-love-ptv @josephquinnsfreckles @mrsjellymunson @hideoutside @eddiemunson-fanfic @paprikaquinn @burns-in-the-sun @cherrycolas-things @exploding-bonbon @krazyk99 @idkbbyx3 @amberpanda99 @munsonmecrazy

A/N: I have more planned for some bonus content but I hope yall enjoy this little look into what happened when Eddie and Steve run into each other✨

“I’ll take two more.” Eddie shouts towards the bartender as he gestures to the empty beer bottles he placed on the bar top. “Thanks Todd.” He adds when the bartender nods and gives him a thumbs up. Eddie lets out a sigh of content as he turns and leans back against the bar so he can scan the crowd that’s chosen to spend their Friday night at the Hideout. He runs a hand through his hair as he spots Dustin and Mike arguing in the corner by the pool tables knowing he’ll have to go break that up eventually if Dustin doesn’t stop poking Mike in the chest with his pool stick.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Eddie turns his head to the side and is instantly met with a pair of brown eyes glaring into his.

“Harrington?” Eddie’s question makes Steve roll his eyes as he crosses his arms over his chest. “What the hell are you doing here? You hate this place.” He asks as Todd places two fresh beers on the bar for Eddie.

“There’s only two bars in this shitty town and one of them is having karaoke night.” Steve answers as he gets Todd’s attention. “Double vodka soda please.” Eddie has to fight back the chuckle that wants to escape him as Steve orders his drink.

“Oh so you decided to spare the people at the Lucky Horse your rendition of Grease Lightning? That’s awfully nice of you Harrington.” Steve just ignores Eddie’s jab as he waits for his drink, he gets comfortable and leans against the bar next to Eddie and he knows to people passing by they’d assume the two men were friends but they’d be extremely wrong.

“Where’s your wife?” Eddie watches Steve’s eyes flicker to the gold band on his ring finger as he brings the full beer bottle to his lips. “I saw the announcement in the paper.” Steve’s voice is cold and sharp as Todd places his drink down next to him.

“She’s at home with Robin and Max having a girl’s night.”

“I knew she was in love with you.” Eddie stands up straight so he can turn and look Steve in the eyes as he takes a sip of his vodka soda. “You can’t tell me I’m wrong now Munson because that ring on your finger proves just how right I was…she never loved me…it was always you.” Eddie swallows hard as he places his beer on the counter and takes a step towards Steve who instinctively stands up so he can at least attempt to match Eddie’s intimidating stance.

“You’re such a dumbass Steve and I almost feel sorry for you…do you wanna know why I almost feel sorry for you?” Steve raises an eyebrow as Eddie just shakes his head and laughs to himself as he looks down at his boots. “She’d still be happily married to you if you wouldn’t have gone and fucked it all up…she was in love with you man and you just couldn’t see it could you? Couldn’t see how she looked at you like you hung the damn moon and all the fucking stars.” Eddie watches Steve’s face drop as his words hits him like a pile of bricks.

“No way…she never…she didn’t look at me like that.” Eddie just laughs and reaches for his beer so he can take a sip of it. “You’re full of shit.” Steve snaps making Eddie glare at him.

“She didn’t love me then at least not in the way you thought she did…she was just my bestfriend back then.” Eddie explains and Steve just stands there and Eddie knows he’s on the verge of losing it so he decides to just take one more small jab at him. “But then again I guess I should thank you or something because while she might’ve just been my bestfriend back then…she’s my wife now and that’s all because of you.” Steve’s eyes go wide at the realization of Eddie’s words sink in, he is the reason you and Eddie ended up together and it’s his own fault that you’re not his anymore.

“Fuck off Munson.” Eddie just smirks as he brings his beer up to his lips. “That ring is tacky by the way…gold isn’t for every-“ Eddie’s eyes go wide as he watches a fist collide with Steve’s cheek before he could finish his sentence.

“God that felt good.” Eddie just looks from Steve who is now slumped over a barstool back to Dustin who is rubbing at his knuckles with a giant grin on his face. “What a fucking asshole…this for me?” He asks as he grabs the full beer on the counter while Eddie tries to make sense out of what just happened.

“Uh yeah…yeah that’s for you.” He answers making Dustin smile as he grabs it and takes a long swig of it. “Let’s uhm maybe not tell my wife about this okay?” Eddie jokes as he and Dustin head towards the pool tables leaving Steve groaning in pain behind them.

“Yeah she’ll kick both of our asses so…you’ve got yourself a deal.” Eddie smiles as Dustin clinks his beer bottle with Eddie’s before going over and grabbing his pool stick so he can finish his game against Mike.

Eddie looks over his shoulder to see if Steve is still sitting there with his face in his hands and to Eddie’s surprise he’s no where to be found. Will comes up and stands next to him bringing him back to the moment at hand, Dustin and Mike’s pool game and the bet they’ve got going that Dustin can beat Mike because he’ll get so annoyed at how Dustin plays that he’ll just give up.

“Was that Steve?” Will asks as Eddie takes a sip of his beer.

“Oh no that was just some loser from highshcool…no one important.” With that Will just nods and Eddie goes back to enjoying his night out, he smiles to himself knowing that when he’s done here he gets to head on home where you’ll be up waiting for him.

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hxltic · 2 years

Text

ARTICULATE KENMA KOZUME

• Genre: smut

• Warnings: best friends, hands kink, squirting, eating you out, fingering, lap dance, face riding, age up/time skip

• For bonus points the realization he likes you vibe is

🎶 SWEATER WEATHER

You make it upstairs to Kenma’s bedroom, unlocking the door in full swing. He only casts you a glance.

This was a normal occurrence. You would barge into his room, go on a rant (unaware if he was listening or not), sleep in his bed, wake up, do his grown out hair, then bother him some more; all while he was on the game. The stream welcomes you, hi’s and hello’s flooding the chat each time he’s live.

His bed was comfy too. Had the really fluffy comforter with matching pillows, always in disarray. There have been many times where you even cleaned his room out of pure boredom, but you don’t mind. You’d rather be bored in his company than alone.

But little do you know, as you go on and on about your day, Kenma listens to the entirety of it even as he’s playing. Mixed calls of your voice and footsteps from the game he’s on confuse him sometimes, he won’t deny, but it’s never enough to tell you to stop talking. People get it mixed up; Kenma is actually a great multi-tasker, he just doesn’t want to. As you kick your legs on his bed and fiddle with his things, when he gets free time from the loading screen he looks at you rather than the countless missed messages he has. He’ll let you know he’s there and does truly enjoy your company.

Every time this will put a smile on your face. Knowing how he won’t judge you, but will sit in contentment and put up with you all day. You make yourself at home by changing into your shorts behind him. He already turned the stream off and his headset was wrapped around his neck. He definitely can see you reflecting through his monitor as well.

It takes everything in him not to turn around—not like you would’ve minded—but you are his best friend. Kuroo hates hearing it, and you always laugh in his face whenever Kenma refuses to answer the question. He quite literally is most comfortable with you, messing that up with these tucked away feelings is something he’ll never be okay with. Past girlfriends had issues with his lack of attention and that’s not how he wants to be with you. Yet, that’s also how these feelings came to be in the first place: your patience with him.

Settling on a bag of chips and a soda he keeps in his mini-fridge, you sit criss-cross on his bed, able to watch him play from afar.

Kenma can feel your eyes burning holes in the back of his head. This isn’t anything new, he is a streamer after all—but for the first time in a while, he gets shy. He feels obligated to play better than how he was before you were looking.

The gameplay was great, you thought, but his hands were mesmerizing. You’ve never thought about it in detail. You weren’t a very fast typer on a keyboard as nobody really taught you and you grew up with controllers, but he does it gracefully with so much ease.

You would say almost like his hands are an extension of him, but they are.

You’ve tried many times where someone would remind you just to practice. Never practicing on your own time, you still got all your documents and essays wrote the same.

“What?” He inquiries. He twists in his gaming chair to meet you.

“Oh nothing, just looking at the pretty lights on your keyboard.” You try to flash a convincing smile, but it wasn’t convincing enough. He curled his eyebrow up incredulously, 100% sure you were lying.

“I turned them off with the stream. It’s distracting.” He corrects.

Fuck. How did you not notice? The lie you subconsciously came up with would have worked in any other situation but this one. Now he awaits your reply as your face figuratively flushes.

“I was looking at how you play.”

“Mhmm.” The lobby pulls back up, giving Kozume all the time in the world. “You want a closer look?”

You go wide-eyed for a second. Him motioning you over was enough for your body to get up, and walk itself towards his setup. You loved his hands though. You’d get him to do little things like pass drinks or pick up something just to see them flex. You weren’t sure if he knew, but it was just a small thing you liked. Nothing major until you started imagining them inside of you.

You situated yourself on his knee. There were no other seats available and you hoped he wouldn’t think too much of it. He took your hands gently in his and placed them correctly on the keyboard. Left on ‘A,’ ‘S,’ ’D,’ and ‘F,’ and right on ‘J,’ ‘K,’ ‘L,’ and the semicolon. He used his own to flatten out yours after he told you how, then let you have the mouse.

The grown out blonde was pulled into a small ponytail. Some of it was left down to cascade over his face, just how he liked. He says it lowers his peripheral vision in public, making it easier to mind his own business. The original black of his hair is now the majority over the bleach yellow.

He was barely holding up. He knows exactly what he’s doing, but any self control he had left when he caught a glimpse of you comfortably on his bed, in your low tank top, staring at him. This was the moment he realized there was a pretty girl in his room, everyday. Then when you casually took a seat on him, he cursed at himself internally.

He started the game and you played. He constantly coached you through it.

“Your sensitivity is really high—I can’t see.”

“Turn it down, I’ll turn it back up next time.”

With his help and his hand over yours on the mouse, you finally got to the end of the game, with some screaming included.

“PLEASE WHAT DO I DO-”

His voice was raised too so you could hear him over yourself, just nowhere near your octave. “Take a left it’s right there.”

“OH GOD WAIT-”

“That’s right-”

You were too excited and almost fell off. His hands quickly wrapped around your waist as you were falling, pulling you back up, except farther with your back to his chest. He held you tightly when he caught you, not dispersing his strength correctly. Now you were sure you wouldn’t fall off.

“Thanks.”

Naturally you got comfortable, moving around and standing up a bit to fix yourself, but Kenma was practically dying behind you. You realize he never let go. You watch him focus downwards as you rub against him, seemingly lost in his own thoughts with his hands slowly moving down to your hips. You sit your hands on the arms of the gaming chair and stare back at him until he looks up at you.

No words are exchanged as you look curiously at each other.

Experimenting, you sink back down slow, twisting your hips, purposefully grinding on him. You observe his face slightly change then revert. Sitting all the way down and innocently wiggling, you ‘correct’ your shorts and pull them up, directing his attention there. You turn back around to his mouth left apart and golden eyes suddenly a dark mustard; still on your waist.

Time seems to have stopped as the blonde imagines you flipped in lewd positions. His eyes find yours once again, but almost instantly they go to your lips.

Fuck it, let’s make those a reality. He thinks.

His hand wraps around to your cheek, pushing your lips onto his. He pulls you even closer. Gently trailing his right hand down to your throat while his left rests caressing your hip, you moan into the kiss.

He is everywhere. Every place on your body seems to be occupied by him, and you wouldn’t want anything else. You didn’t even realize how much you wanted him (until you were sideways with his tongue down your throat), but those nicely manicured hands of his were being put to good use. His holding hand goes up to your chest to push through your bra and straight to your breast. He enhances his movements with bites on your neck.

There have been times where you’ve ranted about bad hook-ups, and all of it is being put into work now. He listened as you went on and on about that one spot right under your ear that was most sensitive, yet nobody seemed to find it even though it was marked with a tiny mole.

He listened as you preferred men who fuck with their hips rather than pure strength—off stream of course.

He listened as your friend went ballistic about you being at his house so often, leaving your scent in his bed.

No wonder he actually sleeps now.

“K-Kozume you’re-”

“Mmm.”

Still with your head thrown backwards over his shoulder, he puts two fingers of his in your mouth.

“Be nice for me and keep that pretty mouth shut.”

You couldn’t do anything but oblige as more fingers drag towards your center, slipping past your panties. He circles your clit, attentive to your body’s reaction through your eyes. He watches you gag on his digits.

It was all new to you, especially with him. You’ve never seen him like this, all riled up, the words he just spoke rolling so easily off the tongue.

He lets you breathe before removing himself and making you stand. He twirls you around like a doll, then pulls you back down by your chin, spreading your legs. Kenma would never admit how many times he’s thought about you straddling him.

Swift and unnoticed he unclips your bra. Rolling your hips seemed to be the best option at the time while your head twisted to suck his tongue. This position doesn’t last long when he gets a hold on your thighs, stands, then takes you over to his bed with your arms around his neck (in place of the long-discarded headset).

Almost dropping you on your back, you giggle. He smiles against your skin at your childishness and leaves small impactful kisses down to your belly button. You’re extremely ticklish, but that only added excitement to the feeling. An intimidating gaze flows through pretty lashes when he slowly pulls down your shorts, underwear following suit.

To be honest, this wasn’t the first time you’ve thought about something like this with Kenma. If anything you wanted your first to be him, the trust and (what you thought was platonic) love would keep the fine relationship between you two going. The occasion has passed though, and you could care less. Not when he was enjoying himself between your legs.

Pushing both thighs to the bed, he gives himself a clear view. Instantly he buries himself in you with his hair in his face. Starting off slow, his tongue spells his name on the bud repeatedly, sucking to punctuate. Anything that slips out of his mouth immediately goes back in wetter than it came out. He forms his tongue in different shapes too: sometimes it’s flat, sometimes it’s elongated; you stopped looking after a while when your head got tired of holding itself up. He closed his eyes as he occasionally slurped through you. Really, he ate you like you were the last thing he’d ever taste. From his point of view, this was almost everything he’s ever wanted anyway. You.

“You taste amazing.”

You whimpered, you had no idea where he got this from. It was short but he said it so casually. Your moans echoed through his room with the faint sound of the lobby music from his PC. Your back rose with each flick of his tongue, and when your hands found his hair, he groaned against you in…frustration? His pony fell out and the scrunchie was gone. The grip on your thighs tightened with the vibration, giving pleasure to the both of you. Kenma was undeniably good with his hands just as you expected.

His tongue explores you so well he has to keep you still. As you thrash and twist to run away (while also somehow attempting to get closer), he pulls you right back down every single time with no problem. On his side it actually wasn’t easy. You put up a hell of a fight.

He continuously sucks you, teasing both lips but keeping the nub occupied—nobody has ever ate you like this from the many who have tried. Once he added two fingers and they reached the one spot yours never could, you knew it was your last try. The thumb on the same hand cleverly rolled over your center while his fingers did work. He took this time to stare up at you and kiss your stomach as well. The legerdemain he had was alluring. Finally, he pulls you downwards for the last time, eagerly getting you to cum on his hand whilst sucking. He actually thought you tasted like cranberries.

“You wanna cum? Go ahead, I won’t stop you.”

Once your eyes were rolling back and you went silent, he knew it was over. Pulling them out quick, he smeared your already drenched clit quickly, stimulating you to the max. The bracelets on his wrist rattled.

“You love my fingers in more ways than one huh?”

Before you knew it you were gushing down his arm. He kept going, testing to see how much you could push out. You quickly looked up in shock with heaves, you never even knew you could squirt; but the clear liquid leaking down his hand was proof enough. You judged that if anyone could get you to, it was him. He only looked amused so the change in expression was refreshing…but what. the. fuck.

“Shit, you get better by the second.” He entertains.

You just squirted for your best friend.

Almost immediately going back down, he continued. He feeds off your pulsing clit, licking and slurping away. You watch as he sucks and stretches out the skin from the suction of his mouth.

“fuck-Ken please!”

And that was when he heard it: his first name. If he wasn’t as hard as he thought he could get, he was now. You only ever called him by his last name, just as he did you and Kuroo—he never thought he’d hear it.

“Say it again.” He came up.

“Kozume.” You whined out.

He made sure he had a good hold on your body before rolling over. With this, his movements never concluded. You naturally followed. With every rock of your hips, he grew more focused on making you cum again. You could never get over it, he was so pretty. Never in panic when doing anything. Your hair was a mess, your muscles were jolting; but what could you do? Stop him?

As you rode his face he looked the most content you’ve ever seen. It would seem like you were overstimulating yourself, and even though the hand you had in his hair brought forth grunts of his own, it was all him. Reaching back with any energy you had left you dipped your hand past his sweats to jerk him off.

It was big. You couldn’t even see it. Based on how it felt in your hand though, it wouldn’t be easy slipping that in your mouth. The second orgasm approached quickly rather than building up this time, making the task of helping him out harder. His hands roamed your spine, until one found your hair and pulled by the root.

“Mmmoh my goddd…” You slurred.

With your back arched, your voice contorted a few pitches higher than usual. Ken seemed to suck harder than before. He never wanted to disconnect from you so wherever your body moved away with desperate rolls of your hips, he just sat up and followed.

When you looked down at him, realization settled in that this was your best friend of six years, almost making you feel guilty. He instantly washed this away when his eyes opened to yours. You peered down at him, mouth agape, your second orgasm rolling over you as he held prolonged eye contact.

“Kozume…”

©hxltic

#haikyuu!!#haikyū!!#kozume kenma #kenma imagine #kenma smut #haikyuu smut #anime #kozume x y/n #kozume #hq kozume

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sankttealeaf · 8 months

Note

First of all happy birthday!!!!

Second of all omg I love your writing, and the prompts you just shared.?? Could I request gn Tav and Astarion for the:

⋆ "i'd still know you." Bonus points if it is not ascended Astarion saying this to Tav 👀

Thank you in advance if you choose to write this and have a great birthday!! ❤️

thank you!!! ended up thinking too much about astarion "ah yes i will manipulate tav into doing what i want - oh no i think am in love" baldur'sgate3 too much while writing this. i hope you enjoy it!!<3

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

"i'd still know you" [prompt list <- send me another!] [ao3]

pairing ; astarion x gender neutral!reader

summary ; Astarion's plan is fool-proof until you come along and start to break it down brick by brick.

other info ; may have gone a little wild with this. a deeper look into astarion and tav's relationship throughout the game and how easily astarion's walls were broken down by them. mainly astarion pov but kind of jumps between tav + astarion thoughts

warnings ; manipulation, astarion backstory, implied sexual content but nothing explicitly mentioned, things get resolved in the end

word count ; 3.2k

“I don't need to know where we begin and end, I'd still know you”

De Selby (Part 2) - Hozier

When he first meets you, Astarion thinks you are a fool.

He despises the way you offer to help anyone in need, no questions asked. It’s even worse when you deny any form of payment for it. He cannot help but allow the frustration to take over each time you get side-tracked. Why now must he meet someone with so much goodness in their heart after he spent centuries suffering? Why must you be so kind?

Your kindness consumes him as he spends his days trying to figure out ways to use it against you. He’ll need help with his own personal goals and it would be oh so easy to exploit how eager you were to help others. He buries you with pretty words and sultry looks and can feel you falling for his trap, hook, line, and sinker.

You begin to seek him out each morning and night, asking for his opinions on things and listening to everything he has to say. He finds it amusing each time you walk up to him with a list of things to talk about. You even start to offer your own blood to him after the rather unfortunate incident of catching him trying to feed on you. Really, this was too easy.

Laying with you after the party with the tieflings is only to cement the snare he places around you. It was hunting season and you were the poor deer that fell into his trap. A shame, but it mattered not to him. He gets what he wants and you get to feel useful helping someone. It doesn’t matter what emotions he has to exploit along the way. Each time he feels himself grow distant during the entanglement you brought him back, fingers tracing his skin and pulling him closer. When you feel the harsh lines of his scar and a frown appears on your face, he distracts you with a kiss, any questions melting away in your mind instantly.

A fool-proof plan, and Astarion is executing it perfectly so far.

As time passes on he starts to find himself waiting for you to approach him in the evenings. He pretends to not care but every time he hears you approach he feels anxiety gnawing in his stomach and if his heart could beat he was certain it would be pounding. He’s managed to memorise the sound of your footfalls whenever you get near his tent, a small thing he assumes is just another step in his plan. That’s what everything was, another box to tick, another thing to cross off. He was remembering things about you to use against you - no other reason.

Recently you have been giving him books you pick up along your travels, claiming you had heard him talking about the lack of “good reading material” to Gale one morning. He stacks each one neatly in his tent, keeping them to himself and refusing to share. You got them for him, after all. He searches his brain for days on ways to repay you for the ever-growing library in his tent and has to stop himself because that is not part of his plan. He isn’t supposed to want to thank you. It’s like you entered his well-defended home and started to disarm all the traps aimed at you. You broke down the walls with such care, placing the bricks to the side to rebuild into something else. He can’t stop you from doing so, no matter how hard he tries.

With each kind gesture he notices more about you. The way you laugh loudly at camp with the others or how you make each person you speak to feel like they are the most important person in the world. He yearns to speak to you, to get his share of loot or hear a funny story from your day. He wants you around him and it confuses him. Your kindness is infectious and Astarion begins to feel like a fever is brewing inside him. He needs to sweat it out yet the only thing he finds craving for is you. Always you.

Why must it be you?

He hears you approach before he looks up from his book, already throwing a suggestive comment your way to see your cheeks flush and your eyes dart around nervously. You ask if he’s doing alright and Astarion decides that this is the perfect time to be vulnerable with you. He wants to know if his plan was working, if you truly would do anything for him. You listen carefully with bated breath as he lays out his backstory to you, how he wants revenge on his master for all the years of torture and torment he was put through. Even though he had been hoping for it, he’s still shocked when you tell him you will help him get his vengeance in any way possible.

Of course you would help him. He has been betting on your kindness all this time, it’s why he chose you to begin with. Yet as you walk away he cannot help but feel seen for the first time in years. You want to help him. You are willing to put your life on the line to help him. He swallows down a bubble of guilt and ignores how sick he is feeling. Any more of this and he was certain he would perish.

For the next few days you talk to him first. Every morning and every evening you would check in and at first he waits for you to take back your offer to kill Cazador with him, but you never do. The only time he spots that you have doubts is when he mentions how he should be the one to ascend, not his master. He should have the power, right? It’s only fair after all. When you tell him that you didn't think that was a good idea, he’s caught off guard. Power is what he always wanted and you are refusing to help him? The conversation ends with a bitter taste in his mouth and you walking away from him. He wants to reach out for you but he can’t.

It’s fine, he tells himself. With enough convincing, you will support his need for ascension. You had to. He wants you by his side, after all.

There’s a lack of conversations with you going forward from that point, the whole talk of becoming a powerful vampire lord being something you weren’t entirely wanting to help Astarion go through with. You mention how he’s just continuing the cycle of abuse, that he’ll be as trapped as Cazador is, but you aren’t sure if Astarion is even listening to you. So, you decided it was best to give him space and let him come to that conclusion by himself. And if he doesn’t? Well, you suppose there will be two vampires you’ll have to kill in the future.

Even if you aren’t talking, you still look out for him when you find yourself in combat. A gentle touch of his arm as you move around him to flank an enemy, throwing your last potion of healing his way, finding high ground for him to run to for a better advantage. You seek him out at the end of the fight to check he wasn’t too badly injured and he notices you only give cursory glances at the others. When you’re happy he isn’t too hurt, you give a gentle squeeze of his arm before going to rummage through the dead bodies for loot. The warmth from your hand lingers on his arm long after you are gone and he finds himself holding the area, watching as you call over Lae’zel to show her some new weapons that could be of use. Still, after killing enemies, you treat everyone with kindness.

The walls around him are fully gone now and he can’t help but wait for you to come back to him again. Perhaps the traps in his metaphorical house aren’t there to keep anyone out, but to keep him in.

You begin to talk to him again, dancing around the topic of Cazador and his plans for taking his master’s place like a deadly waltz. The closer you get to Baldur’s Gate the more Astarion’s plans weigh heavily in the air. Your uncertainty that it is the best option begins to rub off on him and one night he finds himself doubting that this is really what he wants. Of course it was, he wants the power and the control. But that meant losing you - you made your stance clear one day as you travelled, catching him in conversation to tell him you would not be by his side if he chose to complete the ritual himself. You walked away before he could question you further.

Your opinion is ruining him. It’s wrecking everything in his mind and leaving him stranded on an island he isn’t sure he wants to be on anymore. His plan made sense when he could picture you by his side, probably not as an equal - he didn't want to worry about another vampire fighting for his rule over the city, after all, but maybe as a loyal spawn. You are already so loyal to everyone, it would be like nothing changed! But everything will change. You are in his head. He wishes he had never picked you to be the target of this plan. How could he be so foolish? Of course your kindness wouldn't allow him to grow in power. You are too, too kind.

Astarion thinks himself a fool.

Defeating Cazador is a brutal task that he has only ever dreamed of seeing to completion. He stands at a crossroads now, knowing he could easily complete the ritual for himself and ascend to the god-like power that Cazador wanted. It would be so easy to do so, yet he looks back at where you stand with the others and something in him breaks. Something in him snaps and it feels like all those traps he set up around him suddenly went off with him in the middle of it. It’s cathartic, with each plunge of the dagger into his master’s chest Astarion feels like this is what he deserves. Over and over again he settles into this weird mixture of grief and anger and allows himself to have his moment of complete power over Cazador. It’s not the ascension he wants, but the one he deserves.

You watch from the sidelines as he allows his anger to consume him, Cazador lying limp in front of him as he repeats the motion of getting his vengeance. You turn your head away to let him have this moment to himself.

He’s distant that night. His plans are complete and there’s nothing left for him to worry about except removing the parasite. He’ll return to the life of shadows and can only hope you would still want to be around him when all is said and done. No matter how badly the outcome of this drags him down he still can’t bring himself to be angry at you for causing him to doubt it. Frustrated or annoyed, maybe, but never angry.

So when he can’t find you at camp, he starts to worry.

Gale calls for everyone to grab some food and Astarion does not see you approach the fire. He does not see you sitting with anyone else, nor does he see you giving affection to the various animals you refused to leave behind. There’s no sound of your laughter or gentle touch from behind as you walk by him, no hint of you anywhere. It’s not hard to slip away from the group as he begins to do a loop around the outskirts of camp to try and find where you are. Concern rattles his bones as he wonders if something happened, if he would stumble across your dead body or worse - you decided to leave.

His anxieties are eased when he finds you sitting a few minutes away from camp on a fallen tree, your back to him. There’s no need to spook you so he purposefully steps on an old branch, breaking it to gain your attention. You turn quickly, hand coming up to ready yourself if there was a fight. With a sigh, you relax once you see him approach.

“Hello,” you say quietly, shuffling over to give Astarion room to sit beside you, if he wants.

“You’re not at camp?” It’s a stupid question but it’s the only thing he could think to say. There is so much he wants to tell you but finding the right words is proving difficult.

You laugh, and Gods he has missed hearing it. It’s such a simple sound but he is certain it was better than any healing from a bottle or Shadowheart. If he could make you laugh forever he would do so, if you only gave him the chance to. He takes a seat next to you, the cool evening air whipping around you both. Astarion sees you frown as you look down at your feet, hands fidgeting nervously. Despite himself, he reaches out to hold them still.

Looking up at him, you take a deep breath as you prepare for what you want to ask him. “You didn't go through with the ritual?” you ask, even though you were there to witness it. You saw him kill Cazador and give up the power with each stab he carved into the vampire lord and had no idea what made him have a change of heart at the last minute.

Astarion shrugs, wanting to blow it off like it didn't bother him at all, but it did. It really did.

“It was you.” The words sound threatening as he speaks and he winces as your eyes grow wide, worry spreading across your face that he was here to get revenge on you interfering.

“Astarion, I’m sorry, I didn't mean to ruin it,” you say quickly, moving your hands away from him and slinking back to put some distance between you both.

The way you move away from him in fear hurts him as he retreats back in on himself. Maybe he should have taken the power, that way you would have something to fear about him-- No. No. He refuses to think like that. Not at you. Never at you.

“What I meant is that you were the one to put the doubts into my head about the ritual,” he corrects himself and you are confused. Still, he continues. “You kept saying things that weren’t aligning with my plan and I thought-”

You interrupt him. “Plan?”

Maybe it is time to come clean. “I had a plan. Manipulate you, say and do whatever you wanted me to so that you would help me with Cazador. You’re so kind and compassionate I knew it wouldn't take me long to get you hooked on me.” He can’t stand to see the look on your face as he explains himself. “And yet I found myself wanting you more than I planned for…”

His words fade out as you begin to realise how foolish you had been to believe anything he told you was truthful. He’s pacing in front of you now, explaining how this all fell apart because of you and it feels as if he should be blaming you, but he never does. You wait for the accusatory points and looks that never come.

“So you used me?” you ask once he stops speaking, out of breath from how quickly he threw that at you and looking at you in a way you can only describe as sad.

He runs his hands through his hair in defeat, shoulders slumping and hands falling to his side. “Yes. At the start I used you. But things changed! You changed! You changed me!” He’s certain he’s not making any sense but carries on regardless. The floodgates of whatever feelings he’s been repressing have opened and he was going to drown in them if you didn't give him a hand to pull him out. “It’s you! It’s always been you. Even if I ascended it would still be you I searched for. You have ruined me, and yet I can’t help but want you to see me, to look at me, to simply exist in the space around me!”

“That’s what the Gods made me for, right? To ruin you?” You look at him with a smile as he stops in his ranting.

He’s confused, giving you a frown as the words hit him like a spray of water in the face. “Are you quoting me?”

You shrug. “It’s a good line. Even if you didn't mean it.” Your voice has a hint of sadness to it and Astarion knows if he throws any other sweet line at you you wouldn't believe him. He says your name softly like it’s the first time he’s ever said it and you look at him, conflicted at how you should feel right now.

“I mean it now. My plan was perfect until you started showing me actual kindness…” He sits back down, hands in his head. “How was I supposed to revel in power if you aren’t by my side? How was I supposed to live knowing you hated me?”

“I don’t think I could ever fully hate you,” you admit, giving his shoulder a small nudge. “Though I was fully prepared to kill you if you got too power hungry.”

“It would be an honour to be killed by you,” he replies, hand brushing against yours. He wants to hold you close, promise you that everything he says from now on was the truth but he wasn’t sure you would believe it. “I do regret what I did, you know. At first I didn't care what happened but then…”

“Then you started to care.”

It’s the truth yet Astarion feels so exposed when you say it. He cannot place when he started to care about you beyond his plan but he knows that he does. And he accepts it, here and now. He accepts that this is the ending fate has given him and wishes for you to hold his hand as you progress into the next chapter of life.

“You made me feel happy. You have no idea how long it has been since I was truly happy.” It’s like a weight is lifted from his shoulders as he reveals this to you. All those long days of mentally keeping himself in check and in line with what he was planning and now it is crumbling away. “I will gladly take the rest of my life in the shadows if it means I get to hold you in the morning. No matter what happens next, I’d still know you. And that’s all I care about right now.”

You pull him into a hug, arms tightly wrapped around him and keeping him close. He melts into your touch and is relieved that you haven’t pushed him away. Because after all this, he still knows you, and you are so very kind towards him. Even when he feels as if he doesn’t deserve it.

Astarion is foolish for believing your kindness wouldn't be his downfall. He’s a fool for you.

#astarion x reader #astarion x tav #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion x gender neutral reader #; tealeaf's writing

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bucky-barnes-diaries · 5 months

Text

Day 10 — Under The Mistletoe

Pairing || TFATWS!Bucky x Female!Reader

Word Count || Around 600

Contents & Warnings || Fluff, very mild Smut — mild explicit content/language.

Disclaimers || English is not my first language so I apologise for any mistakes or misunderstandings!

Advent Calendar 2023

A holiday tradition Bucky loved to uphold was the surprise of a passionate mistletoe kiss. What had begun as a modest tradition had evolved into a playful game, where the challenge was for you to find the hidden mistletoe Bucky had hung somewhere in your house. The reward? A passionate and unforgettable kiss from his truly. With each passing year, Bucky had to get more creative with it, hiding it in odd corners throughout your house, turning the hunt into more of a challenge.

During the annual Christmas decoration of your home into a festive wonderland, Bucky, with a mischievous glint in his eye, would slip away for a moment to discreetly position the mistletoe somewhere in your house. And thus, your hunt for the mistletoe began.

The next day, you spent the morning searching every nook and cranny and stopping beneath every doorway. Every hopeful glance at Bucky was met with a playful shake of his head and a teasing smile, indicating that you had not won the grand kissing prize.

It continued for two more days, and with each shake of his stupid big head and an annoying teasing smile on that stupidly handsome face, the frustration built. Bucky promised he would help you the next day with the search, even tell you where the mistletoe was hidden. However, that same evening, fate took a different turn, and you stumbled upon the mistletoe without even trying.

— — — —

As you entered the spare bedroom to stash away some Christmas presents in the closet discreetly, Bucky’s stealthy approach went unnoticed. It wasn’t until you felt his warm breath tingling down your neck and his hands gently asserting a soft grip on your hips that his presence became known.

“Look up, doll,” he murmured, his lips delicately grazing your skin.

Complying, your gaze landed on the leathery leaves hanging above the closet—the very mistletoe you had spent days searching. Mentally facepalming, you scolded yourself for overlooking the guest bedroom—stupid idiot.

With a smooth motion, Bucky turned you around, pressing you against the closet door. His heated body melded with yours, his hands finding a place on your waist, sending delicious shivers down your spine. As he leaned in, face mere inches from yours, your lips brushing, a playful smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

“Looks like you’ve earned yourself a mistletoe kiss, doll.”

He captured your lips in a searing kiss. As your lips met, a spark ignited in your chest at his passion, sending waves of trill through your body. Your fingers tangled in his hair, and you drew a deep moan from him as the kiss deepened. His lips parted yours effortlessly, tongue slipping inside to caress skillfully against yours, eliciting a whimper and almost causing you to buckle under his assertive passion. For a blissful minute or two, you lost yourself in the intoxication of Bucky underneath the mistletoe. His lips, tongue, and touch leaving you dizzy with desire.

When you eventually pulled away, breathing deeply, you hummed in appreciation, cupping Bucky’s scruffy cheeks as the rush of his intoxication still coursed through your veins.

“Wow, that was worth the three-day wait.”

“Definitely, but I’ll give you a bonus for being so patient this year,” he rumbled in his deep voice, his nose skimming down the column of your neck as he planted open-mouthed kisses on your heated skin.

“Y-yeah?”

“Mhm,” he responded, brushing his lips underneath your ear. “As a bonus for being such a good and patient girl, I’ll make you come on my fingers, tongue, and cock,” he groaned, biting your earlobe.

A naughty thought crossed your mind. Next year, you will deliberately struggle to find the mistletoe to be awarded the added bonus.

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wtfsteveharrington · 2 years

Text

tequila & strawberry lip gloss / robin buckley x fem!reader (featuring bf steve harrington)

context: listen - steve loves you. he also loves robin. you know what you and robin love? boobies. i fully believe in my heart that bf (boyfriend & best friend) steve harrington would want to see the two ladies he loves getting to have a night of exploration together.

contents: IMPORTANT & LENGTHY (i’d rather over explain than under)- there are zero sexual or physical interactions between robin and steve. zero. robin is into ladies and that stays true here. this is lady on lady smut. just with bonus steve moments.

that being said here are the interactions:

steve x reader: kissing, dancing/grinding, his assets are mentioned, and he observes the act. some praise thrown in / some teasing energy directed at both but not a focal point.

robin x reader: whew… it got away from me a little bit. kissing, begging, teacher!robin explaining what she likes, praising, nipple play, biting, fingering & oral (both receiving), a little degrading scissoring, overstimulation.

this story also includes mentions of drinking, smoking weed, cursing, all that good stuff.

author notes: this was a full labor of love and respect. sexualities & exploration is fluid & i just fully believe to my core steve harrington would share. this came purely from my pansexual heart that’s in love with both steve & robin. i have an idea in mind for part two if anyone’s interested

word count: almost 4.4k

part two | part three | part four

You’ve lost track of time since leaving Steve’s house. One minute you’re sharing a way too strong drink with Robin and Steve’s blowing a steady stream of smoke into your mouth.The next thing you know your back is pressed firmly against his chest at Cynthia Prescott’s party while Robin scans the crowd around you.

Steve’s thigh is between your legs, supporting your body as the two of you lazily “dance” together. All truth being told, he had gotten hard about five minutes ago and was torn between finding some near by closet to absolutely destroy you in and staying on the floor to keep a close eye on Robin.

Robin who was equally crossed.

You’re giggling now as Robin grabs your hands, trying desperately to drag you towards the crowd dancing. “C’mon! Unlatch yourself from Steve for just like ten minutes. Two, maybe three songs tops!”

Steve’s got his eyes closed and head tilted back when you move your ass just right. There’s no way you could leave him now. Not your pretty boy who’s rock hard in his pants.

“No can do, Robin. Your best friend here has a uhhh — situation at the moment”

Robin’s gasping when she realizes what you mean, reaching out to smack Steve’s arm. “Dude! So totally not cool!”

He’s keeping one arm tight around your waist, the other reaching over to give Robin a little shove back. “It’s not like I can help it! I’m in love and a generally horny guy to begin with. Get me high? Zero control over what’s going on down there. You can’t blame a guy.”

Robin’s pouting now, eyes flickering between the two of you and the crowd dancing. “Yeah well at least you get to be taken care of tonight. I’m high and horny too and I can’t even find someone to make out with, let alone anything else.”

It slips out before you stop yourself. “I’ll make out with you.”

Steve’s laughing behind you now, his chest rumbling along your back. Asshole. Robin’s cheeks flush a shade of red you hadn’t seen on her before, her hands anxiously fluttering around her body because she can’t decide where to casually place them now. “Again, not cool. You can’t just joke about kissing around me. I take that shit very seriously. Like, on the list of priorities if you took everything we’ve been through, kissing would still be so high up on the list.”

You’re opening your mouth to talk but before you have the chance to say anything it’s Steve that speaks first. “She’s not joking, Robin. She thinks you’re hot, has the whole time we’ve been together. I was a little worried about it until, you know, -… Well let’s just say I know she isn’t going anywhere.” It’s taken a few failed attempts at love but he knows he finally found it in you. You were just as whipped as him. Fully satisfied in all aspects that he could satisfy. Robin could just satisfy a different urge unreachable by Steve.

Robin’s eyes are shifting between you both, watching you closely as you lick your lips before giving her a little nod. “I like pretty people who make me laugh. You’re beautiful and you make me laugh. Why wouldn’t I want to kiss you?”

She’s a little hyper focused on you calling her beautiful. Like, kind of really focused on that part of it. Funny? Robin knows she’s funny. Beautiful? Well… It never hurts to hear someone say it, that’s all.

You’re reaching out to lace your fingers with Robin’s and bring her closer to you. “Is that something you’d want, Robin? To make out with me? I probably taste like tequila but my lip gloss is strawberry flavored. I think I’ll taste good.” There’s a groan coming from either side of you now. Both Robin and Steve imagining just what tequila, strawberry, and you taste like. Steve’s head is dipping down to press a wet kiss to your neck. His voice is low but you’re not sure if it’s low enough for just you to hear or if Robin’s even still listening but he just gives a simple, “You always taste good. All of you.”

Robin’s getting nervous again. Not to kiss you, but because she gets to kiss you. There’s butterflies in the pit of her stomach and she’s thanking the skies above for whatever strain Rick sold Eddie who sold Steve that lead to this moment. “Are you-… Are you sure you’re okay with this? Both of you. Because I’m down and I’m not gonna be weird about it but I don’t want to jeopardize our friendship or your relationship and-“

You feel Steve’s head snap up, rolling his eyes at Robin before reaching out to grab her shoulder and bring her close to you. “Just shut up Buckley and kiss her.”

That’s all the confirmation both of you need. You’re sliding your arms around Robin’s neck, giving a little chuckle as you bump your noses together. “Just let me know if this is too much, okay?”

Instead of giving a response Robin finally, finally leans in, connecting your lips in a gentle kiss. You’re tightening your arms around her neck and feel Robin’s hands cup your sides right above where Steve has his arms wrapped around you too. All this attention is making you dizzy.

Her lips are softer than what you’re used to.

Robin’s tongue gently licks between your lips, still a little timid nervous and trying to make sure this is truly okay. You reward her with a soft moan that has Robin pressing her thighs together. Her tongue swirls around yours now that she’s getting more bold and you feel Steve’s fingers dig into your waist at the sight. You slide your tongue along hers, the once dull throbbing between your legs picking up in intensity.

The power you hold in this moment…

You’re nipping Robin’s bottom lip as she pulls back to get some air. “You’re uh, you’re a really good kisser. Like really good. And that lip gloss? Like such a real strawberry flavor. You’ll have to let me-“ You bring your lips back to Robin’s, effectively cutting off her nervous rambling. She gives an appreciative hum at the interruption and rewards you by sliding your tongues back together. You had wondered what she tastes like before - tonight it was tequila, faintly weed, and the fruit punch she made the three of you stop at the gas station for on your walk to the party.

“Why don’t get go find somewhere more private for you ladies? It seems we have an audience.” Steve’s voice is snapping you out of the trance that simply is Robin Buckley. You glance over to see that a few people are trying and failing to casually glance over at the spectacle that is the three of you tangled together.

He takes your hand, lacing your fingers with a little squeeze before linking arms with Robin to lead the two of you down a dark hallway. Steve’s peaking into the rooms while you and Robin trail along before he finally makes a victory whooping sound at finding an empty bedroom. He’s shoving the two of you in, fumbling around with the lock before it finally clicks into place.

Your hands are back on Robin’s face, thumb stroking over her cheekbones and pulling her into another kiss. She’s got you walking back towards the bed now, her hands slowly sneaking under your shirt. Both of you being careful to make sure you’re not overstepping. Neither of you having any concerns of stopping.

When the back of your knees hit the bed, you’re pulling your head back to look between Steve and Robin. Neither of them look concerned, upset, worried. In fact, Steve’s just giving you a tender smile. Maybe some part of him knew this was always going to end up happening from the moment he introduced you to Robin and you both ended up a nervous mess. He knew you were curious and didn’t want to be the reason you never got to explore that side of yourself. Who better to trust you with than Robin? Your boyfriend’s stepping up towards you two, cocking an eyebrow at Robin which causes her to blush and lean away from you just enough to give him some space. He’s grabbing your chin, giving you a gentle kiss. And another one.

“Do whatever you two want. I trust you both. And this one -“ He’s bumping your shoulders together now, giving you one last kiss on your cheek, “- won’t stop talking about boobies. So enjoy Robin’s.”

Steve steps back with a smile, ruffling Robin’s hair. “Just take care of her, okay? My girl’s needy sometimes and she deserves to be taken care of.”

Robin’s glancing between the two of you now, grabbing Steve’s arm before he can head back out the door. “Watch.” All three of you look surprised at that. Her hands are letting go of Steve and back under your shirt quickly, fingers just brushing the bottom of your breast. “I mean… If you want to then you can watch. You know, to make sure she’s treated right and comfortable.”

Listen, he didn’t need to be told twice. Things like this? He’d have to try and steal a porno from the back of Family Video for the night to see two girls like this. The fact that it’s you, the love of his life even if he hasn’t admitted the depth of that love quite yet and his best friend whom he once upon a time also had a crush on?

Robin wastes no time falling to her knees why Steve panic moves further in the room. Desperately trying to not interrupt the mood but also making sure he doesn’t get kicked out. You’re half focused on him, your silly boyfriend who’s letting you hook up with his best friend so you - “Oh fuck, Robin.”

You were too caught up in Steve that you didn’t notice Robin’s head going under your dress until she’s kissing you over your panties. “You’re already wet.” Just an observation. You want to make some snarky reply like of course I’m already wet when you feel Robin’s tongue drag over your cloth covered pussy.

Her hands slide up to grip your ass and suddenly you’re much too worried about what you can’t see anymore. You’re reaching down, gripping at the fabric of your dress in an attempt to rid of it from your body. Once you do? You’re greeted by the sight of Robin looking up at you with playful, inquisitive eyes. “More of a visual learner?”

You just hopelessly nod and use every once of strength to keep your his from rocking against her face. Not wanting to overstep again. “Just appreciating my view.” Robin rewards you with a pinch to your ass that causes you to yelp out. While you’re distracted by the sensation she’s pulling your underwear down your thighs. “Let me focus on taking care of you.”

Robin’s leaning up, instantly burying her face into your wet pussy. No teasing, no taking her time. Maybe part of why she pinched you was because she still can’t quite figure out if this is real.

Fuck you can hear her licking you out. The smacking sound of her lips as she tries to clean up the mess you’ve made. Your hands lace in Robin’s hair as you give up on the resolve not to rock your hips against her face.

Between the buzz of the party outside and the buzz leftover from your pregame, your head feels so light. No thoughts. Just Robin pushing her tongue into you as her nails drag across your ass.

It doesn’t take long for you to learn if you move your hips just, right her nose will bump your clit and - “I’m already close. Why am I close? This can’t be over.”

To your… Horror? Amusement? Robin’s giggling into your pussy. Giggling. The vibrations against your folds driving you almost as insane as the fact that she’s giggling into you. “Do you wanna come on my tongue, pretty girl? Hmm? Let your boyfriend watch you come for me?”

Everything’s going right through that empty head of yours and straight to your clit. It’s as if she can read your mind because one of her hands is going from your ass and right between your thighs. She’s rubbing her thumb in circles over the sensitive bundle, pressing a kiss over your folds before dragging her tongue back down to dip into your hole.

It truly doesn’t take long for you to feel the tension building up in your stomach… Much quicker than you’d like to admit. One hand stays in Robin’s hair while the other slides up your body to tease your own nipple, rolling it between your fingers at the same time Robin rolls your clit between her fingers. You’re short circuiting.

You could yell out that you’re close but she knows. She feels the way your knees are starting to shake, getting weaker. Your breathing is more shallow and the once steady motion of your hips against her face has become broken twitches.

Robin gives your ass a firm squeeze, licking out your pussy for all that she’s worth. Every time you feel yourself clench just to be met by her tongue you’re on cloud nine.

Then, still so much sooner than you want, you tense up. Nothing more than a gasp and her name falling from your lips as your climax finds you.

Normally people back off when you finish. Not Robin. Her tongue moves softer now, just little kitten licks in lieu of the full out lapping she just gave you. You’re a whimpering mess. A little pathetic in all honesty. You black out for a second, just letting the waves of your orgasm run your body.

You’re being dragged onto the bed by Robin who’s managing to stumble out of her own clothes during your comedown phase. Once again not wanting to waste time. She’s pulling your body on top of her, seeking out your lips for a series of lazy kisses.

“Teach me.” Robin’s raising her eyebrows at your words, her thighs clamped tightly together and holy shit she’s dripping without even being touched. “I wanna make you feel good, Robin. Tell me how.”

She‘s getting too flustered. Like she’s in a dream and any second her alarms going to go off.

But you’re real.

And you’re on your knees between her legs.

You’re probably still wet for her. All she can think about is the cool air hitting your wet pussy and if it makes you miss her.

None of that comes out though. Nope. All you’re getting is just, “Holy shit. You’re so fucking hot.” Which has you giggling as you slide your arms under Robin’s thighs. You’re pulling her hips closer to your face, kissing a line down her inner thighs. “You have such a pretty pussy, Robin. Let me try to make you feel good.”

You dip your head down, lining your tongue up with the base of her hole before flatting it out to lick up between her folds and letting your tongue flick against her clit. Robin is, truly, a mess. Withering against the bed and gripping the sheets.

This whole time? Steve’s watching the two of you through hooded eyes, trying to burn this image into his head. The back of house pornos will never hold up. He’s not wanting to disrupt too much because holy shit it’s the hottest thing he’s ever seen. He can’t help but give a little - “C’mon Buckley, tell our girl how good she’s doing. She likes it if you’re loud…”

Our girl. No one will ever know who that turned on more. You’re trying your hardest to remember exactly what Robin did to you, but every ounce you lack in skill you make up for in enthusiasm. Your brain just nonstop trying to walk you through this. (Okay now flick your tongue over her clit. Not too much! Pull back and drag the tip of your tongue across her folds. You’re getting this.) Remember when Steve mentioned the praise thing? Yeah, he wasn’t lying. So when Robin finally, finally gets vocal? All the motivation you need. “You’re doing so fucking good. You’re -… Fuck it, you not a good girl, are you? No, girls who eat pussy like this are good little sluts. Is that what you are, Baby? A good slut?”

Now you know for sure that before she was still trying to tip toe this invisible line she’s worried about crossing with the two of you.

Like there was anything left.

“Can you - Oh fuckin’ hell- No, no that’s already so good.” Robin’s holding the back of your head in place, tilting her hips so your lips are directly on her clit. “Kiss me there. Again. Good girl. You’re liking this, aren’t you? Now wrap your lips around my clit and use your tongue to -“ She’s cut off with a gasp as you do exactly what you’re told. Your tongue flicking over her clit while your lips stay wrapped around it. It takes you a minute to figure out how much pressure to put on her clit, but Robin doesn’t mind laying there while you figure it out.

You pull a few inches away to catch your breath and the sight of you with a wet chin and glossy lips makes Robin’s clench around nothing. Absolutely nothing. She’s going a little crazy. You’re looking up at her now with the most innocent smile you can muster. “I like being a slut for you, Robin.” You’re trying to make sure she feels comfortable. All you want is for Robin Buckley to fall apart and you be the one to both catch her and put her back together again. One of your hands leaves the death grip you had on her hips, sliding down her sensitive skin to bring a finger between her folds. You watch her carefully before gently pressing your finger into her pussy. “Look at how fucking beautiful you are.”

Beautiful. There’s that word again. Robin’s going to go fucking crazy and quick. You duck your head back down and go right to sucking on her clit while slipping another finger in. Rotating your hand palm side up and dragging your fingers along her walls.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck. Please don’t stop. You’re such a good girl, aren’t you? Please, Baby. I’m gonna - Holy shit.” Robin’s thighs tighten around your face, one of her hands coming down to grab the back of your head while the other one clamps down around your wrist. You’re greedy now, licking her out through her orgasm. She’s whimpering now, squeezing your wrist while her thighs shake. “Sensitive, so sensitive.”

You allow yourself one more flat tongue lick from the base of her pussy all the way above her clit. Robin’s hips jolt up from the pressure, more soft whimpers falling from her lips.

This is the first time you get to see her, like really see her. Hair a mess and covering the pillow under her head. Her nipples still hard from the cold air. Thighs are slick and covered with bruises yet to fully form that you’ve left.

You’re smirking, clearly proud of yourself. Sure, maybe it wasn’t the best head in the world but no one was complaining. In fact, Robin wouldn’t complain about you using her to get better again. Not at all. You crawl on top of her, kissing a trail from between her thighs, up her stomach, a kiss to both nipples, before finally kissing her lips. Robin’s already broken or else the fact that she can taste herself on you would send her into orbit. She brings one of her legs around your waist, adjusting the two of you until one of your knees is next to her hip and the other knee is pressing in behind her thigh. She’s got a firm hand on your lower back now, the kissing between both of you becoming a little more sloppy. “Too sensitive for much, but I want you to feel.” If this is the only time you ever sleep with a girl, she wants you to have this experience.

Which, by the way, if it is the last time you’re ever with a girl then Robin’s quite sad this will never happen again. If it isn’t your last time as a whole but you’re last time with Robin, she’s jealous of whoever else gets to see you like this. Fuck whatever other girl you or may not sleep with.

You wrap your arms around her leg, gasping the second you feel her pussy press up against yours. She’s welcoming the distraction from mentally fighting whatever future bimbo gets this version of you. “Oh fuck, Robin.” All you can do is rock yourself down against her, your hands digging into the soft, fatty part of her thigh. You’re using this grip to bring her leg over your shoulder, a mixture of gasps and moans leaving you two as the new angle let’s one another feel whats going on better. You turn your head to the side and on instinct bite down on her ankle. Not too harsh, just enough pressure. She’s going to have bruises tomorrow… You both will.

Both of you are sensitive and over stimulated, so it’s just a couple of minutes of grinding against one another. The room is filled with nothing more than the sound of you two rubbing together, just so wet and slick. Your mouth is watering at the idea of licking both of you off of her. The only other sound is one of you gasping when your clit gets rubbed just right. You lick over the spot of Robin’s leg you’ve been biting at.

You weren’t planning on coming again. But the pressure in your clit? It’s almost too much to bare. Your hips were moving with grace but they’ve lost every ounce of rhythm. The pressure’s building up in your stomach and you could practically tear up with how many sensations your body is going through.

Robin’s nails start to dig into your skin, her head thrown back and you’re convinced one of the most beautiful sounds on Earth is your name coming from Robin’s lips. Her back’s arched up off the bed, her tits moving in time with your motions.

In all honesty? Your body takes over and before you realize it your hips are staling as a second orgasm over powers you. Robin’s hips buck up at the sight of you coming against her. “Look at how fucking stunning you are.”

Sure, the bedroom was getting a little too hot for your preference, but nothing compared to the heat in your cheeks when Robin compliments you. Your nails drag down her leg and you make eye contact as your hand sneaks inbetween the two of you. “Will you come for me, Robin? One more time? I’ve been so good, right? Show me how good I’ve done tonight and let me see you come for me.”

It doesn’t take much convincing. Robin’s once again a puddle of moans and crying out your name. Your pointer finger dips into her pussy and it’s almost pathetic insane how wet the two of you were. While using your thumb to tease her clit, you slide your middle finger into her pussy as well.

Then you feel her clench around you. “Holy fuck, Robin.” She’s gripping whatever inch of your skin she can, her whole body twitching under you as her orgasm wrecks her body.

You give her a moment to come down before adjusting your position. Your legs untangling from one another as you lean in to press a few firm kisses to her lips. “Thank you for doing this with me… It was, truly, amazing.”

Robin’s wrapping her arms tight around you, giving a breathless laugh. “Thank you? You are so, so very welcome.” She’s smiling at you, pushing your hair off of your face. “We kinda messed up your make up.” Which has you both a giggling mess. You lean in to give her another kiss, letting the two of you stay close together while you both let the night soak in.

After a few minutes of just soaking up Robin, you finally start to untangle yourself from her. Surely whoever this bedroom belongs to is going to want it back and soon. Your feet hit the cold ground but your body still isn’t quite ready to stand up yet. Across the room? You guessed it. Steve.

Who’s still entranced by the situation.

You’re greeted by the sight of your boyfriend, hands pulling through his hair and a soft cock in his lap. He notices you honing directly in on the fact that he’s soft. “Uh, I like totally came on myself maybe… Twenty minutes ago? At least? Honestly you were only about five minutes in when -“ He’s imitating an explosion sound and waving his hands around his dick. You and Robin can’t help looking back at each other and laughing. “Yeah, yeah, I would say fuck you two but since that’s already out of the way…”

He’s flustered at getting “caught” before springing into his typical caring boyfriend and best friend mode. Whoever this bedroom belongs to thankfully has an en suite bathroom that he’s stepping into, returning a few moments later with a hopefully clean hand towel. You and Robin gently clean one another up while Steve hunts down the clothing thrown around the room.

When all three of you tumble out of the bedroom together, there’s still a few eyes that are honed in. Girls ready to gossip about what who Steve Harrington’s into, boys giving Steve a proud smirk and winking at you linking arms with Robin. The two of you just roll your eyes while Steve steps up closer to put a hand on the small of both of your backs. “Alright, let’s navigate this sea of creeps and get the hell out of here.”

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