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#mark is such a comfort love him 🥹
cloudysafespace · 1 year
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Markiplier Stimboard
x x x | x x x | x x x
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i saw a post today which i think summarizes a huge reason (of the many) why i love hyunjin so much.
hyunjin just seems like the type of person who is happy. he can find happiness in the little things in life, like taking pictures, sunsets, drawing, playing with his dog.
he seems really down to earth, just the type of guy who is chill and nice to hang out with.
he’s famous, popular, handsome, highly desired, he can do anything and go anywhere, but he’s happy going on a walk and painting scenes from movies he likes.
he knows how to enjoy going as a vip guest to an exclusive ysl event in paris, but he doesn’t let that get to his head. you’ll catch him walking around observing nature and going to museums like a tourist in europe for the first time.
he gives his friends his own art as gifts, literally one of a kind, handmade, his own time and effort and dedication (most importantly love!), just for them.
he is so sweet. he just wants to drink his iced coffee and enjoy his life.
he makes me feel like a better person because i’m really inspired by him.
i think the first time i cried over/because of hyunjin was when i watched a clip from a live where he told a fan who had a terminally ill father he would pray for their father. he thanked them for telling him such a deep and personal story, and wished he could be there to comfort them.
he has a really pure heart and good soul. i don’t know him personally and i doubt i ever will, but i sincerely feel that way about him.
i hope he’s really happy and content with his life, always surrounded by people who love him and support him in everything he chooses to do. i hope he lives very long and very healthily and i hope i can see him perform some day!!
i hope all of stray kids are enjoying their time before their next comeback which i know will exceed all my super high expectations.
❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️
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7starlite7 · 3 months
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can we like, get jjk characters when the reader says they’re insecure about like their big boobs🥹🥹. i love ur writing sm and it makes me wanna write too but im scared
☆ JJK MEN WITH BOOB INSECURITIES ☆
They all comfort you a bit differently… either way they let you know that your boobs are perfect , no matter the size. A/N: also anonie, write , don’t be afraid too , there’s always an audience. Do it if it’ll make you happy. I’ll be your first fan 😊
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☆ Small boobs 
★ Gojo Satoru 
They are so cute. So fucking cute , the way they fit your small frame so perfectly. Gojo hates the way you cover them with your arms, face flushed and to the ground. “baby cmonn~ they’re so fucking cute lemme touch em”. He whined. Your feet shuffled towards him a bit, your face still red. Slowly moving towards him. You watched him roll his eyes as he yanked you by your arm close to him. Your face contouring in shock as you felt his warm tongue against your small nipple. “H-hey Satoru~” you whimpered , legs moving as his tongue swirled. His rough hands on your waist keeping you in place.
 “ please don’t ever hide em , they’re so cute”
★ Toji Fushiguro 
An impatient man. Who can’t understand why you don’t like em’. “ C'mon kid, I’ve seen so many tits..” he started , warm breath making your nipples erect. “ yours by far the cutest” he insisted confidently as his hands kneaded the flesh. They were small and perky, he liked them like that. His green eyes looked up at you as his tongue ran across your bud. You whimpered a bit into your hand. He never broke eye contact with you, even as his mouth enveloped your whole boob. Coating the round flesh in his slobber as you whimpered a soft “T-Toji~”
“Tiny , how I like em’ , they can fit in my mouth” 
★ Geto Suguru 
Cruel man. What’s new ? Pinches them all the time. “ What are you worried about?” He’d inquire , watching you squirm as his hands gripped your tits. Cold rough pads of his fingers grasping your nipples , making you whimper out. Your face burned whenever he tried to grip them. I mean he could but they were small , you just couldn’t help but feel insecure. “ Sugu~ don’t make me feel worse~” you pleaded, hands coming up to cover your face. Your hands were pried from your face and puppeteered by Geto. Him making you knead the flesh of your chest. 
“can’t you feel how soft they are doll?”
★ Choso Kamo 
This guy doesn't care , he just has to feel em’. He’s never touched a pair in his life. He probably lays his face in your chest, tongue practically glued to your small buds , lapping at them like he’s thirsty. He doesn’t even care about the size , just the fact that they’re boobs. “ omg they’re so soft “ he’d exclaim , cheek pushing flush against them. You felt like maybe he only liked them because he’s never seen real “ nice boobs” before. But he’d assured you that no matter who else was out there , he’d pick yours. 
“ so glad you’re the first I’ve touched“ 
☆ Big boobs 
★ Gojo Satoru 
He gripped him like his life depended on them. Sucking at them with vigor, kneeling the flesh like dough. Just fascinated.. THAT THEY WERE REAL ! When you first met he honestly thought you got a boob job or something. No way they could be that big. But the way they bounced while he fucked you let him know that they were. The way he could suck at the flesh for hours and how it would turn darker turning him on to no end. Loved the way you never showed them off , the way only he saw them in the comfort of your home. 
“Fuck baby , all for me right?”
★ Toji Fushiguro 
Biting them , rough too. Just sinking his teeth in until he feels the more firm part. Biting and licking his marks with a watermelon tongue. Biting until you place frantic little taps upon his head. “Ji , please~leave em’ alone” you yelp, your size always made you feel a little uncomfortable. “ they’re so big , I wanna see if I can..” he’d stop for a moment, mouth opening wide trying to take your roundness in. You’d giggle a bit at the sensation as he tried , falling short as he couldn’t. Only for him to try again, you laugh at his stubbornness , asking why he wouldn’t just give up. He’d only smirk at you. 
“Should be proud I can’t fit 'em kid!”
★ Geto Suguru 
Fucking them to no end. Squeezing them together while his dick fucks up between the two plush mounds. Your tongue giving soft kitten licks to his tip. Your hands are squeezing yourself together to help him. You loved the way you could please him like this. Just looking at his face seeing how much he loved it. Your boobs giving warmth to his already hot dick , rutting inside the confines of your chest with vigor. You always felt your size was overkill , disproportionate to the rest of you. But Geto assured you that you were the perfect size for him. 
“ fuck, perfect for keeping my cock warm baby”
★ Choso Kamo 
Staring. Just staring at them. You in your spaghetti strap tank top. Fuck! did it show on his face ? Was he staring too hard ? Was he blushing? Omg they were so perfect! sitting pushed up by your bra. The cold causing small goosebumps to arise just as  the hairs on the back of Choso’s neck. You noticed his staring. Walking to him and stuffing him in your tits with no regard for his breathing at all. Fuck , the adreline from his loss of air going straight to his dick. The ache came so fast and hard that he had to touch himself , whining muffled in your chest. Looking pathetic under you.
“S-so big and w-warm” 
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weeknd-ogoc · 4 months
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BEGGING ll ˳ ׄ ⟡  . CARLOS SAINZ JR.
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SUMMARY: in which carlos suffers the consequences of liking an influencer who is younger than him. (part one / part two)
FACE CLAIM: kelsey calemine
CONTAINS: reader is 21; 8 year age gap, first argument as a couple, smut & suprise ending!
AUTHOR'S NOTE: can't believe the season is over!!
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ynusername
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liked by carlossainz55, charlesleclerc, and 5,356,789 others
ynusername just us missing our dude 🏎️
view all 6,863 comments
username this is so cuteee!
username i love how much she loves piñon!!
ynusername he's my son 🥹❤️ username crying and throwinf uppp
carlossainz55 coming back right now! 🏃🏻‍♂️🏃🏻‍♂️
ynusername hurry up 😚
username oh you're so hot, carlos is so lucky
charlesleclerc pinon!!!
scuderiaferrari our favorites!
liked by ynusername
before carlos had left to japan, he tried everything to get you to go with him but since you were still upset you decided to stay at his house for the time being. he was hoping that you would maybe show up on race day but you never did.
"this is so childish..." carlos sighed as sat on the couch.
"if it's so childish, why don't you back with isa?"
he groaned once again and got back up, following you around the kitchen. "you know that i want to be with you and only you! i'm sorry for making you stay there another night but i just didn't want my fam-"
“you're so unbelievable carlos, you are a grown man! why do you care what your parents think of you?”
“i don’t expect you to understand, you don't even talk to your family!” he had slammed his hand on the kitchen table, his voice was loud and it left an echo but there was a hint of hurt underneath his tone.
piǹon had barked at carlos and you remembered it got quiet in that moment, maybe you pushed the argument too far — before you could even go hug carlos he had already made his way out of the kitchen, leaving you with piǹon standing right next to you.
this had been the ending of your first argument.
it took carlos about two days before he could call you but you never picked up, instead you guys found yourselves texting for the rest of the week.
you enjoyed staying at his house with piñon, you guys would go on walks, sit outside to eat and you even found yourself sleeping right next to him — but what you didn't like was that carlos wasn't around, it was really lonely without him.
as you watched carlos doing an interview on tv, piñon jumped up to the tv and started scratching it. "i miss him too."
ynspam
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ynspam love youu ❤️
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carlossainz55 love you the most amor ❤️
username me and who?
username can he fight??
carlossainz55 i can and will 🤺
landonorris theres kids on here!!
carlossainz55 close your eyes
username should be illegal to be the hottest couple
you had woken up to someone stroking your hair and you opened your eyes to see carlos sitting right next to you. “you're home"
he smiled and nodded before leaving a kiss on your forhead. "c'mon let's go to bed."
once the both of you got comfortable, you guys stayed looking at each other but couldn't find yourselves to speak so before you so instead his lips suddenly crash into yours.
that kiss led you to be in the position that you were in now.
"i missed you so much." his bare chest is against your back as he started to rock his hips into you slowly, a satisfied moan leaving your lips as your walls clung onto him tightly.. "i'm sorry for lying to you and leaving without saying goodbye..."
when you didnt answer him he leaned your head back and with his fingers he forces your mouth open. "c'mon say something mi reina." he then licks your bottom lip and bites it.
the position you were in had you feeling every inch of carlos's thick cock, repeatedly hitting your sweet spot. "it's o-okay..."
"te quiero mucho..." he began sucking on your neck, leaving marks behind for the next day. "promise i won't ever lie to again..."
once you heard carlos say that you felt like you were getting close and he felt it too. "i love you too carlitos."
you were now seeing stars as carlos continued to blow your back out.
carlossainz55
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liked by ynspam, ynusername, and 2,234,567 others
carlosainz55 little baecation dump
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ynusername 🥹 que guapooo
f1wagupdates ugh you guys are so cute!!
username carlos you are so lucky
charlesleclerc why wasn't i invited
carlosainz55 you're invited, come swim here
username if you look closely you could see me jumping off the cliff (i cant swim)
ynusername i'll save you carlosainz55 you cant even swim either ynusername 😧 now that was a secret
"c'mon stop worrying about the bugs amor..." carlos said as he helped you across a puddle. "they won't kill you."
you swatted a fly and continued to hold his hand as you guys walked across the field. "if i knew we were coming to a place like this, i wouldn't have worn heels, maybe some sneakers."
he smiled as you continued struggling to walk in the grass with your heels and talking about whatever nonsense that was going on in your life, piñon was just behind you guys sniffing the flowers.
carlos had never felt so in love with someone but yet again he never dated someone like you — you were constantly getting on his nerves, you'd cook him dinner, most importantly you've supported him and showed up to almost all his races.
"well i'm not worried about kids right now..." he remembered you saying. "maybe when you become world champion, we'll open this conversation back up."
you made him think about getting married, having kids, buying building a house just for you.
"alright close your eyes, we're almost there..." carlos said as he gently put his hands around your eyes, trying not to mess up your makeup.
he finally saw the boat and the red rose arch as you guys got closer.
"you better not leave me in a ditch or something." you mumbled.
"now why would i do that?" he chuckled before finally getting to the spot and letting you see.
"for getting cranky this morning wit-" you finally had looked and saw the marry me arch and the beautiful picnic boat he had set up. "car-"
you suddenly felt your heartbeat racing in your chest and felt your face getting warm, by the time you had looked back at him he was down on one knee with a smile. "will you marry me?"
you nodded as he stood back up. "that's a yes?"
"yes carlos, it's a yes!" you quickly pecked his lips before he slid the shiny ring onto your finger.
once you guys got on the boat he saw you smiling at him. "what is it?"
“oh nothing, you just move pretty fast.” you fed him a piece of croissant and placed it down. "we’ve been dating for abou-” 
“six months and four days.” he responded rather quickly and as your smile grew, he rolled his eyes. "but y'know who is really counting?”
ynusername
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liked by carlossainz55, francisca.cgomes, and 3,896,789 others
ynusername six months in, forever to go! ❤️
comments are limited
username f1 drivers really do move on fast 🌚
francisca.cgomes ahh congrats my love!!
username screaminggg
charlesleclerc congratualtions guys!
landonorris i'll be the best man
ynusername wont 🤺 carlossainz55 will
username the setup is so cute!
vinniehacker must've skipped a few pages
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my f1 & f2 masterlist!
© weeknd-ogoc, 2023
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scented-morker · 9 months
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Enhypen when you’re their Bite Me dance partner
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Idol!enha x background dancer reader (they’re female, but I didn’t use any pronouns so can be read as gn) 945 words. ⚠️PSA: just bc idols interact with the other gender doesn’t mean it’s romantic and I am in no way trying to imply that!! This is fanfiction and shouldn’t be taken too seriously!! ⚠️
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Heeseung
No because when you first meet him he seems so calm and polite and you’re like “wow this is gonna work out so well”
Because even tho he’s super hot (hello?) He’s not trying to use it on you
But we’re all very familiar with the switch up when he starts performing
suddenly he’s smirking and holding eye contact and just 😳
You feel like you might need to go take a lap and cool off
HAVE YOU SEEN THAT PART IN THE SECOND VERSE WHERE LIKE HE GRABS HIS DANCERS HANDS DOWN HIS CHEST??? (1:39 in the 230602 mubank performance 🫣)
He chills out eventually but the first time he literally made you run your hands down his chest 🫠🫠🫠
“You know you can touch me right?”
He notices your hesitant movements and literally grabs your hands to put them on his neck 🥵
“See that wasn’t so hard was it?” bark bark bark bark bark
Jay
Literally SO respectful
When you guys meet for the first time he goes out of his way to get to know you because he doesn’t want it to be awkward when you start dancing
He keeps it up later too, he always asks “is this okay?” before putting his hands on your back or anything (even when you’ve run the song fifty times)
Every time you come back on stage he gives you a little wink 🫠
And everytime you do the like dip/lean back thing he makes silly faces at you when you come back up 😭
So all the fancams are trying to figure out why you’re laughing in the middle of the dance 😔
Jake
Okay because he’s a flirt and he knows that he should keep it professional with you but you’re just so pretty 🥹 he can’t help it
You notice how he always seems to be touching you a little longer than everyone else
Like Jake the choreographer stopped everyone five minutes ago why are you still holding on 🤨
Always acts like he’s gonna drop you when you lean back in that one part (I hope you know what I’m talking about)
Like he’ll have his hands on your waist and then let go just to watch you drop and then catch you again
(He thinks your angry face is cute when the song ends and you smack him for it)
Bites his lip EVERYTIME on the part where you touch his chin 🫣
Sunghoon
He’s so awkward I’m sorry 😭😭
Like you’re ready to start dancing and make your choreographer proud but he’s really making it hard
You can tell he doesn’t love the idea of touching you (rude 😐) so you try to go a little easier on him
You just lay your hands on him instead of grabbing or anything, and you don’t lean as far back bc he’s not actually holding your waist he’s just putting his hand in front of it 😭
But then the choreographer yells at him because he’s gonna end up dropping you so he has to actually touch you
“Uh is this okay? Where- where should I?”
You try not to laugh at his bashfulness, grabbing his hand and putting it on your waist
“You have to support my back right here okay? Don’t let me fall.”
BUT HES THE ONE WHO FELL (for you) 🤭🤪🤩
Sunoo
Literally made you feel instantly comfortable, he has the least threatening aura ever
He was all “hi! I’m sunoo!! I can’t wait to dance with you 🥰😁”
And you were like ☺️
At one point when you guys had marked it a few times, not actually doing the partner stuff you looked at him and went “are you sure you can hold me up?”
It’s not like he had to hold all of your body weight but like dang you needed some support ya know, and he just moved so gently that you were a little suspicious
This offended him immensely of course, and he picked you up right then and there
Just threw you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes
“Yeah, I’ll be okay”
okayyyyyyyyyy 🥵
Jungwon
Slow burn x100 bc he’s a responsible and professional leader 👏
He asked Niki about how to better dance with a partner because he didn’t have any experience with it and wants to make sure he does a good job 🥹 (my baby)
He is DETERMINED to make this choreography perfect, and is not afraid to correct you
“Make sure you actually touch my chest when you do that, it doesn’t look as good when you just pretend.”
Okay Jungwon 🤭 I’m sure that’s why 🤭
When he starts really performing with facials and everything you’re literally losing it 😭
Like face burning bright red, what happened to the cute guy you were dancing with for the last month why is he staring into your soul mid dance
One time he touched your knee while you did the like drag up by their chin move and you literally had to take a walk
Riki
He knows what he’s doing okay?
Like I said previously, he’s the only one with experience in partner dancing
So you were worried at first that he’d be shy because you knew he was the youngest one
But then the first time you ran the song together he grabbed your waist and dropped you so low your ponytail wiped the floor 😭😭
He makes SO MUCH eye contact you literally are on the verge of combusting
When the boys point it out he says it’s because he has to watch you to make sure you don’t need anything because that’s what good observant partners do (boys a liarrr)
Since you’re one of the ones that has to start on the ground he always put his jacket on the ground during practice so you wouldn’t hurt your back/shoulders 😭😭
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Hi! I don't know if you already have an idea for the birthday post, if you do feel free to ignore this...my favourite trope is dad!harry too...what if H has to go for an emergency meeting somewhere else out the country even before his birthday and he has to spend his birthday there too and he is bummed about it...the fmc can fly out with their daughter/son and when he is back from his meeting his room is all decorated and stuff and she tells him she asked jeff to cancel everything...and they do a bunch of fun stuff but at night, after dinner she and the baby surprise him with another baby or something and he is like best birthday ever, 30 is already amazing
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Happy 30th Birthday, Baby.
masterlist || ask me anything <3
authors note - thank you so much to @missbearforfun for sending in this request, ive had had a fun time writing this, ive changed a few things up, so i hope that ive done it justice.
i can’t believe that my boy is 30….like i swear he was just auditioning for the x-factor yesterday. 🥹
word count - 4.4k
in which, harry gets called to do a meeting in italy, two days before his birthday, which means that he’ll be spending his 30th out there with just his manager jeff, what he doesn’t realise is that you, his darling wife, fly out to surprise him and hopefully give him the best birthday he’s ever had.
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You’ve been in Harry’s life for just over ten years.
You’ve spent five of those years as boyfriend and girlfriend, two of those years as his fiancé, and now, this year will be leading up to the third year being each other's husband and wife.
The first birthday of his that you spent with him, was his 20th all the way back in 2014. He had organised an intimate get together at a restaurant full of all of his closest family and friends, and it was the first time that you would be turning up together, as an official couple seeing as the only people who knew about the two of you were his band mates and his mother,sister, father and step father.
It was also the night that he confessed to you that he loved you, and that you were the one person that he couldn’t wait to spend the rest of his life with.
From that moment on, every birthday became a cherished chapter in your shared history.
Waking up in each other's arms has become a comforting tradition, marking the beginning of a day dedicated solely to celebrating Harry's existence. The warmth of those morning embraces symbolises the depth of your connection, a connection that has withstood the tests of time.
As the years unfolded, you've witnessed the evolution of Harry, both in age and character, yet the love between you two has remained unwavering.
From his 21st to his 30th birthday, you've made it a point to spend the day in a way that brings him joy. Whether it's exploring new places, indulging in his favourite activities, or simply relaxing together, the focus has always been on creating memories that reflect the essence of Harry.
Each birthday has become a canvas on which you paint moments of happiness and shared experiences.
You had spent every birthday with him, but for this one, it appeared to already be turning out in a way neither of you had expected.
A mere few days before Harry's anticipated birthday, an unexpected call from his manager, Jeff, sent ripples of disappointment through his plans. The urgency of an issue related to his beauty brand, Pleasing, required Harry's immediate attention in the Italy.
The brand we’re thinking of opening a pop-up shop over there, seeing as the country held so much adoration in both of your hearts, it was the place where you got married, the place where he proposed and where he now wanted his fans over there to have access to him and what he had to offer.
With flights already booked, he faced the heart-wrenching reality of having to leave just over two days before his special day. Devastation etched across his face as he contemplated the unforeseen disruption to the birthday celebration he had eagerly anticipated.
In a desperate attempt to reason with Jeff, Harry explained his deep desire to spend his birthday with you, sharing the disappointment that overshadowed the joy of the impending celebration.
However, the urgency of the matter prevailed, leaving Harry torn between personal desires and professional obligations. As his best mate and manager, Jeff empathised with Harry but emphasised the gravity of the situation, reinforcing the necessity of this unexpected journey.
Amidst the disappointment, you stepped in to comfort Harry, assuring him that celebrations could be postponed but his presence and well-being mattered most. You offered solace, reminding him that distance could not diminish the love and connection you shared.
The promise of a belated but equally meaningful celebration upon his return brought a glimmer of hope to the gloom that hung over his imminent departure.
You had promised him, that you would FaceTime him on his actual birthday and that you would both order the same takeaway that night and have a little over the phone date, just to celebrate this big milestone.
On the morning Harry was set to depart for Italy, the anticipation of his journey hung in the air. Dressed for travel, he stood before you with a small suitcase by the door.
Shoes on, cap snug, and sunglasses concealing his eyes, he exuded a mix of excitement and reluctance. Despite the January chill in London, the promise of Italy's warmth upon landing prompted him to prepare for a contrasting climate.
Your eyes held a silent plea as you stood before him, sorrow evident in your gaze.
"I wish I didn't have t’go," Harry admitted, his voice tinged with regret.
You nodded, understanding the weight of the situation, your silence echoing the unspoken emotions in the room.
Milo, your ten-month-old Rottweiler puppy, sensed the sombre atmosphere, wagging his tail as if trying to infuse joy into the moment.
Unable to contain your emotions, you wrapped your arms around Harry in a tight hug.
"I'll miss you so much," you whispered, your voice betraying the ache within. Harry's embrace tightened, and he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead.
"I'll miss y’more, m’love," he murmured, the sincerity in his words resonating with the depth of his emotions.
Crouching down to pet Milo, Harry spoke to the pup with a soft smile, "Take care of mummy for me, little buddy."
Milo responded with excited barks, seemingly understanding the impending absence.
Standing up, Harry looked into your eyes, his own reflecting a mixture of love and longing.
Your gaze locked with his, finding solace in the promise of a future reunion.
"We'll have the most amazing belated birthday celebration," you said, trying to inject positivity into the moment.
Harry smiled, his eyes reflecting gratitude.
"I can't wait f’that. Until then, stay strong f’me," he said, pressing a lingering kiss to your lips.
As the door closed behind him, the echo of his departure resonated through the silent space. Left with the imprint of his touch, the memory of his presence, and the anticipation of his return, you and Milo faced a home that suddenly felt emptier without him.
"I'll make sure t’send y’pictures from Italy," Harry called out from the hallway.
"And don't forget to spoil Milo a bit extra for me!" he added with a playful grin, the reassurance in his voice providing a small comfort amid the impending distance.
The day of his actual birthday, you woke up at seven am, which meant it was eight am for Harry.
It was a nice early face time call, in which you had called someone from the town near your shared beach house and got them to deliver flowers so they we’re scheduled to arrive whilst the two of you were calling, so you could see his face when he received them.
Little did he know, as the virtual celebration concluded, that you were already en route to Italy to surprise the love of your life.
His manager, Jeff, had orchestrated the clandestine journey, booking a flight that not only allowed your presence but accommodated Milo, your loyal puppy companion.
On the fairly empty flight, with just a few scattered passengers, you found solace in the quiet journey across the skies. Milo, nestled on the seat next to you, peacefully dozed off, completely unaware of the grand surprise awaiting his owner.
The hum of the plane engines provided a soothing backdrop as you envisioned the joy that would light up Harry's face when you appeared unexpectedly in celebration of his special day.
Upon landing in Italy, you and Milo were swiftly escorted off the plane by a discreet security team. The importance of maintaining the surprise for Harry became evident as the team efficiently navigated through the airport. The mission was clear: to whisk you away from the public eye, avoiding any chance of word spreading that Harry's wife had arrived.
Passing through passport control with just a carry-on bag in tow, the security team ensured a seamless transition. The anticipation heightened as you and Milo moved through the airport, surrounded by the subtle hum of secrecy. Every step taken was a careful manoeuvre to preserve the surprise and shield the unfolding celebration from prying eyes.
Exiting the airport, you were guided to a waiting jeep. The security team orchestrated a smooth transition, knowing that time was of the essence.
Jeff:
H just left for a meeting, so you’ve got at least an hour to get everything ready !!
As the jeep sped toward the villa, Jeff's text notification illuminated your phone screen. His message revealed that Harry was currently engrossed in a meeting, providing a valuable window of time to set up a birthday surprise.
The prospect of transforming the house into a beautiful haven of celebration filled you with excitement. Knowing you had at least an hour before Harry's return heightened the anticipation, and thoughts of his surprised expression fueled your determination.
The journey continued through the picturesque landscapes of Italy, the half-hour drive feeling like both an eternity and a heartbeat away from reuniting with Harry. Milo, sensing the energy, shifted restlessly in anticipation, adding an extra layer of warmth to the already charged atmosphere within the jeep.
The realization that the culmination of meticulous planning was drawing near only fueled your eagerness.
The mere thought of seeing Harry after two days of separation fueled your determination to make this surprise an unforgettable celebration of love and connection. The countdown to the reunion had begun.
"Here we are," the driver announced as the jeep came to a stop in front of the villa. You thanked him and handed over a ten-euro tip, expressing gratitude for the swift and discreet journey.
Grabbing Milo's leash and your bag, you stepped out into the Italian air, the scent of anticipation mingling with the promise of celebration.
As you approached the door, the distinct aroma of Harry's aftershave enveloped you, confirming his recent presence. A pair of his white vans neatly placed by the entrance hinted at the intimate details of his daily routine.
With a smile, you inserted the key into the lock, unlocking the door to a space filled with the essence of the man you dearly missed.
"Milo, we're home," you murmured to your furry companion, who eagerly bounded into the living room.
The atmosphere inside resonated with familiarity, and Milo, seemingly aware of the joyous occasion, leaped onto the sofa, his tail wagging in sync with the pulsating excitement in the air.
Upon stepping into the villa, you wasted no time. The suitcase that accompanied you served as a treasure trove of celebratory delights. With swift precision, you unzipped it, revealing an inflatable 3 and 0, along with vibrant banners that spelled out "Happy Birthday."
The living room became a canvas for your creativity, and the decorations unfolded in a dance of colors and joy.
Inflating the giant numbers, you strategically placed them to catch Harry's eye the moment he entered. The banners crisscrossed the room, creating a vibrant tapestry of celebration. The atmosphere transformed with each decoration, turning the space into a haven of love and festivity.
The decorating didn’t take long, maybe around half an hour, so that left you waiting, and each minute felt like hell.
You so badly just wanted him in your arms.
Seated in the midst of the festive setup, you pulled out your phone, eager to share the news of your safe arrival with your family. Fingers danced across the screen as you texted messages of reassurance and excitement, capturing the essence of this special moment.
The living room, now a symphony of color and joy, served as the backdrop to your messages, each tap echoing the anticipation of the grand birthday surprise awaiting Harry.
As you sat in the living room, engrossed in your phone, the jingling of keys outside signaled Harry's arrival. Swiftly, you rose from your seat, Milo by your side, his tail wagging in silent excitement.
Attempting to be as quiet as possible, you made your way to the entry hall, your heart pounding with anticipation. The festive atmosphere of the decorated living room served as a backdrop to the impending surprise.
Harry entered, shutting the door behind him with a sense of routine. His tote bag dropped to the floor, and in his initial distraction, he failed to notice the pair of women's shoes by the entrance.
His gaze scanned the surroundings briefly before turning away, only to snap back with wide eyes when he caught sight of you standing there.
His mouth parted in shock, a mixture of disbelief and joy washing over his face.
Time seemed to stand still for a moment as Harry processed the unexpected presence before him. The shock gave way to a radiant smile, his eyes lighting up with genuine happiness. Milo's tail wagged furiously, mirroring the palpable joy in the room.
Harry's initial shock dissolved into pure joy as he stared at you standing in the entry hall. Without a moment's hesitation, he rushed over, gathering you into a tight embrace. The warmth of his arms enveloped you, an unspoken reassurance of the love that bridged the distance between you two. Your eyes welled up with tears, mirroring the emotion evident in his gaze.
"Happy birthday," you whispered, the words carrying the weight of your love and the joy of this surprise.
As Harry lifted his head, his lips sought yours in a cascade of affectionate kisses. Each press was a testament to the depth of the connection shared, a celebration of love that transcended the days of separation.
The room, filled with decorations and the silent witness of Milo, became a sanctuary for this spontaneous reunion.
In the midst of the kisses, Harry's laughter bubbled up, the sheer delight of the unexpected surprise washing over him.
"M’can't believe you're here," he admitted, his eyes sparkling with gratitude. Milo, sensing the joy, wagged his tail energetically, completing the tableau of love and celebration.
“I couldn't not see you on your birthday," you admitted with a warm smile, still wrapped in Harry's embrace.
"Milo missed his daddy so much that we had to come and surprise you." You winked playfully, a cheeky smile tugging at your lips. "And, well, maybe I missed you a bit too."
Harry's eyes lit up with a mixture of surprise and delight.
"Y’really came all the way here just for me?" he asked, his voice filled with gratitude. Milo, sensing the joy in the room, barked in agreement, tail wagging enthusiastically.
Cupping his face in your hands, you responded, "Absolutely. Birthdays are meant to be celebrated with the ones you love, and we couldn't let a few miles keep us apart, now could we?"
“But I’ve got meetings the entire day,”he pouted, head getting thrown back slightly. “But I wanna spend the entire day with you.”
You played with the peach fuzz at the back of his neck. “Well it’s a good job I’ve cleared your schedule then, huh?”
“Wait,”he snapped his head over to yours from where he was staring lovingly at Milo. “So I’ve got the whole day with you?”
“We’ve got the whole day together, baby.” You confirmed, watching as his dimples appeared on his face.
In need of a refreshment, you and Harry migrated to the kitchen. As he poured himself an ice-cold glass of water, you settled at the kitchen island, nibbling on a cracker slathered with butter.
Looking at Harry, you asked, "Any cravings for today?"
He grinned and replied, "Actually, I've been craving a nice stroll around the town with Milo. Maybe we can stop for some ice cream and, perhaps, a cheeky bottle of rouge."
Harry's eyes sparkled with the prospect of a leisurely day. He reached for your hand, fingers intertwining, and continued, "What do you think, love?"
You offered a small smile, well aware that your current circumstances limited certain indulgences. "Sounds lovely," you responded, playing with the cross necklace around his neck. "I'm up for a walk and some ice cream.”
The wine….not so much.
/ /
As the day wore on, bathed in the warm glow of the Italian sun, you changed into a pair of comfortable denim shorts and one of Harry's shirts, embracing the casual charm of the town. The borrowed shirt hung loosely on your frame, carrying the familiar scent that provided a comforting connection to Harry.
Together, hand in hand, you and Harry strolled along the old streets, a timeless backdrop for the unfolding birthday celebration.
Milo, ever the enthusiastic companion, trotted alongside, his leash held firmly in Harry's hand. The cobbled streets echoed with the gentle sounds of your footsteps, creating a serene melody as you explored the charming corners of the town.
The quaint architecture and rustic charm of the surroundings added a picturesque touch to the shared moments of the day.
The narrow alleyways led you to hidden gems and inviting cafés, where the scent of freshly brewed coffee and sweet treats filled the air.
Each step carried with it the promise of discovery and the joy of simply being together. The sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a warm hue over the town, and the leisurely pace of the day allowed you to savor the simple pleasures of the moment.
As you continued your leisurely walk through the charming streets of Italy, Milo suddenly stopped in his tracks, his nose diligently sniffing around the ground. With an amused grin, you watched as he searched for just the right spot to do his business.
After a moment of consideration, Milo found the perfect place, and you turned to Harry with a playful expression.
"Happy birthday to you," you teased, handing Harry the poo bag with a grin. He laughed and fake gagged, taking the bag with a theatrical expression of horror.
Milo, seemingly oblivious to the lighthearted banter, continued with his canine duties, contributing his unique birthday gift to the day's events.
Continuing your walk through the enchanting town, you and Harry engaged in easy conversation, the cadence of laughter punctuating the air. The narrow streets echoed with the shared joy of the day, every step deepening the connection between you two. Silly anecdotes and playful banter flowed freely, turning the casual stroll into a delightful journey of shared moments.
As you meandered through the old streets, each corner unveiled new surprises, and every twist and turn became an opportunity for discovery. The simple act of being together, immersed in the charm of the surroundings, fueled the laughter and strengthened the bond between you and Harry.
As you continued your stroll through the charming town, the sight of a small bistro with a quaint outdoor seating area caught Harry's eye.
"How about we grab a bite there? it looks like a nice spot," he suggested, nodding toward the bistro. You agreed with a smile, appreciating the thought of a cozy meal in such a picturesque setting.
Heading towards the entrance, you were met by a friendly waiter.
"How can I help you?" he inquired. Harry responded,
"Just a table outside, please." The waiter, with a welcoming smile, gestured for you to follow, leading you to a charming table nestled in the outdoor seating area. The sun cast a warm glow, creating an inviting ambiance for a leisurely meal.
Seated at the quaint table, Milo by your side, the waiter handed you the menus. "Browse through these, a waiter will be over shortly, and let me know if there's anything else you need," he offered before leaving you to peruse the options. The aroma of delectable dishes wafted through the air, enhancing the anticipation of a delightful meal in the heart of the town.
Harry, glancing at the menu, looked up at you with a playful grin.
"What are you in the mood for, m’love?" he asked.
You.
Wait what?
As you and Harry enjoyed the cozy atmosphere of the bistro, another waiter, a friendly woman with a welcoming smile, approached your table.
"Good evening! Do you know what you'd like to order?" she inquired, pen poised above her notepad.
Harry, ever decisive, was the first to respond.
"I'll have a glass of y’house red wine, please," he said, glancing at the wine list.
Turning to you, the waiter asked, "And for you, ma'am?"
You flashed a smile and softly shook your head.
"I'll just go for a fresh lemonade, please." Attempting to steer away any suspicion, you added, "Feeling like something light today."
Harry, catching the cue, chimed in, "Just a light and easygoing evening, you know?"
He winked at you, his eyes filled with playful complicity.
The waiter jotted down your drink orders and nodded. "Certainly, a glass of red wine and a fresh lemonade. Now, what can I get for your main courses?"
You perused the menu, deciding on a chicken salad, and Harry opted for the salmon antipasto. You exchanged glances, sharing a silent agreement on the choices. As the waiter collected your menu choices, she remarked,
"Excellent choices! Your orders will be out shortly. Enjoy your evening!"
With the waiter's departure, Harry leaned in with a teasing grin.
"A fresh lemonade, m’love? Feeling like a saint today, are we?" he quipped, his playful banter laced with affection.
You chuckled, playing along. "Well, saints need a refreshing drink too, don't they? Besides, I'm saving room for that delicious chicken salad."
Harry laughed, raising an eyebrow in mock suspicion. "Alright, alright, I won't question y’saintly decisions. S’just enjoy this lovely evening and the meal to come."
The waiter returned with your drinks about five minutes later, placing a glass of red wine in front of Harry and a refreshing lemonade for you. As she walked away, leaving you two to enjoy your beverages, you lifted your glass and initiated a spontaneous toast.
"Cheers to your birthday, my love," you exclaimed, your eyes sparkling with affection. "I just wanted to take a moment to say how much I love you. I can't wait to spend eternity together, celebrating moments like these."
Harry's gaze softened, and he blinked his glass against yours.
"To eternity and beyond," he replied, his voice filled with warmth. "M’the luckiest person to have you by m’side. Here's to many more birthdays and unforgettable moments together."
The bistro's ambiance embraced the intimate exchange, and you continued to express your love and appreciation for Harry.
"You make every day special, but today, on your birthday, I want it to be extra magical for you," you confessed, your sincerity echoing in the quiet moments between sips of the refreshing lemonade.
Harry's smile widened, and he reached across the table to gently squeeze your hand. "Having y’here is the best gift I could ever ask for. Every moment with you is magical, and m’grateful for it all."
/ /
As the early evening settled around the villa, you found yourselves back in the comforting haven of your shared space. In the bathroom, bathed in a soft glow, you stood before the mirror, carefully removing mascara and eyeliner.
The simple act of cleansing away the day's makeup was a routine that marked the transition from daytime adventures to the quiet moments of the evening.
Meanwhile, in the bedroom, Harry lay on the bed, Milo nestled at his feet. He absentmindedly scratched at the short growth of hair on his head, a subtle reminder of a recent decision to shave it off.
The room radiated with a sense of tranquility as you each indulged in the rituals that marked the end of the day.
Wearing one of Harry's shirts that enveloped you in the familiar scent of him, you busied yourself in the bathroom, preparing a late evening birthday surprise.
The soft rustling sounds of your movements echoed against the backdrop of Harry's contemplative scratching, creating a harmony of shared space and intimate connection.
With a soft smile gracing your lips, you glanced at yourself in the bathroom mirror before deciding it was time to return to the bedroom.
Your hands were discreetly behind your back, holding a late evening birthday surprise for Harry. As you stepped into the bedroom, Harry, already seated on the bed, noticed your presence and sat up, beckoning you with open arms.
"I want a cuddle," he declared, his eyes twinkling with a playful warmth. Unable to resist his endearing request, you let out a soft giggle at his baby-like antics.
Playfully, you approached the bed as he beckoned you forward.
Crawling onto the bed next to him, you let yourself be enveloped in his arms. You laid your head on his chest, the rhythmic beat of his heart echoing comfort and love.
The anticipation of the surprise gift still hidden behind your back added an extra layer of excitement to the intimate moment.
"I missed you," Harry murmured, his voice a gentle caress. You pressed a kiss over his heart, savoring the warmth of the connection. His arms tightened around you, embracing the familiar comfort of being close.
Taking a deep breath, you looked at Harry with a warm smile, saying, "I've got one last present for you. Close your eyes."
Harry hesitated for a moment, a playful smirk tugging at his lips, before obediently shutting his eyes. With gentle steps, you moved towards him, the late evening's golden glow casting a soft ambiance around you.
In your hands, you held a delicate gift, and with a mix of hesitation and tenderness, you softly placed it in Harry's hands.
"Okay, open your eyes," you instructed, your heart fluttering with a secret that had the power to change your lives forever.
Harry blinked his eyes open, and as he glanced down at his hands, a flicker of confusion passed over his face. Then, his gaze landed on the small object nestled in his palms.
It took a moment for the realisation to sink in, and when he saw what it was, his eyes widened, and he gasped.
"What... is this?" Harry stammered, his voice shaky with emotion.
His trembling fingers picked up the small pregnancy test.
The room fell silent as the weight of the revelation settled in. Harry's eyes locked onto the test, and tears immediately welled up.
"S’this for real?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "This isn't some sick joke, right?"
You shook your head, a mixture of joy and vulnerability in your gaze. Leaning forward, you pressed your forehead against his, tears streaming down both your cheeks.
"It's true, H. I'm eleven weeks pregnant," you whispered, the magnitude of the moment engulfing you both in a wave of overwhelming emotions.
Harry's breath caught, and he pulled back slightly to look into your eyes.
"I... we're going to be parents?" he uttered, a mix of disbelief and elation in his voice.
A tender smile graced your lips, and you nodded. "Yes, Harry. We're going to be parents."
Tears rolled down his cheeks as he pulled you into a tight embrace.
"I can't believe it. M’going to be a dad," he mumbled against your hair, his voice filled with a joy that echoed through the room.
Overwhelmed with emotion, Harry leaned forward, his hand gently pressing against your stomach as if trying to connect with the new life growing within.
The tender touch conveyed a depth of love that words could only strive to express. His lips found yours in a sweet, lingering kiss, and as he pulled back, he whispered, "I love you, I love you, I love you."
“This is the best birthday ever,”he spoke, chocking out a soft sob. “Thank you m’love, thank you, thank you for making us parents.”
You softly placed your hands on his cheeks to get him to look at you, and when his green eyes met yours, you smiled at him tenderly.
“Happy 30th Birthday, Baby.”
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486 notes · View notes
goosita · 3 months
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I LOVE your writing I get so excited when you post! Could you write something about rivals taking Billy’s Girl and him going CRAZY till he gets her back? And then the comfort after that🥹
ooo ough oh my god he would go insane like i truly mean he would level an entire city for you if he had to
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the moment he finds you in the back of the house, bound to a chair and gagged, his emotions begin a war inside of him. he’s so filled with rage that his hands shake and his teeth with ache in the morning from clenching them so hard. blood is splattered across his shirt, flecks drying on his cheek from the men he’d gunned down and fought just to get in here, and here you finally were.
he lost track of how many rounds he’d fired. all he knows is that he’d dropped several bodies. if he counted, he would realize he’d taken out the entire gang who had plotted to take you and hold you for ransom with the eventual goal to turn in the famous outlaw. there was no way in hell billy would ever let that happen; he’d lay his life down in a heartbeat to keep you safe and sound.
“baby,” he breathes, voice trembling. he rushes over and makes quick work of untying you, releasing the handkerchief tied around your mouth to keep you quiet.
“oh, baby i’m so sorry,” he murmurs, pulling you into his arms. he can feel you shaking like a leaf, but you hug him so tight he thinks his ribs might crack; not that he’d care anyway. “i should have been faster, i should have known sooner that you—“
“shhh, billy. i’m okay. i’m fine, you’re here,” you soothed, clinging to him. he can feel your fingers digging into his back hard enough to bruise. he hopes they do, honestly. he wants any mark you leave on him.
“m’gonna get you home, okay? never gonna let you out of my sight. never, you hear me?” he shrugs off his outer flannel shirt, dressing you in it and pulling you in again to press a long and lingering kiss to your forehead. billy keeps you tucked into his side, leading you to the front door.
“i need you to close your eyes, darlin’,” he says, stroking your hair. “don’t want you to see…any of this. okay?” he doesn’t want you to see any of the trail of gore he’s left. you’re too sweet, too innocent to ever be subjected to the sight of such violence.
you nod and squeeze your eyes shut, but as he leads you outside, the sharp metallic scent of blood hits your nose and you suddenly understand just why exactly he doesn’t want you to see. things had gotten very intense, you knew this. billy was a dangerous man. he had been since the day you met him, but it never bothered you. you weren’t even sure if it bothered you now, when he was so kind and gentle with you.
he helped you up onto his horse and climbed on behind you, slipping his arms around your waist and clicking his tongue to get the animal to turn and head the other direction. after a few minutes, you felt his nose nudge your shoulder.
“you still got those eyes closed?”
you nodded, leaning back into his chest even more.
“you can open ‘em now, pretty girl. nothing bad to see out here,” he promises, kissing your cheek. your eyes flutter open and the sky above is a deep navy blue, clouds just beginning to glow with the promise of a sunrise.
“never gonna let anything bad happen to you ever again, i promise. i’m so sorry,” he whispers. you shake your head and turn to glance up at him behind you. billy stops his horse and drops one of the reins, lifting his hand to hold your chin gently.
“it’s okay, billy. i’m okay. you got there just in time,” you assure him. your eyes scan his face, now noticing the dried blood in a splash pattern on billy’s jaw. the way his bright blue irises looked stormy still, the tension in his body still tight. his thumb caresses your bottom lip, his face softening.
he looked down at you for a long moment before dipping his head, resting his forehead against the back of your shoulder. your violent man, your outlaw, your gunslinger. william h. bonney, billy the kid, wasn’t afraid of anything. that’s what most people assumed; but he was terrified of anything happening to you, his sweet angel. his darling girl who kept him sane.
“billy?” you whispered. you felt him hum, his chest vibrating against your back. “take me home.”
and so he did.
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stinkybuttwipes · 4 months
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Dragon ball characters 🖤Spicy🖤 headcanons~
Piccolo
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This man let me tell you-
You’ll only get a few grunts out of him, he’s more focused on what he’s doing honestly.
He will only moan when he’s about to cum but he isn’t very loud with it because he is really embarrassed (poor bb)
Piccolo isn’t very vocal in bed nor does he do dirty talk but he’ll slip out a few cute names for you every now and then when he’s going at it
Ehem- sweetie, Angel, Honey *explodes*
He prefers to be in the missionary position but sometimes he’ll let you ride him ;)
He’s also a Hermaphrodite
You’ll wonder where tf his pp at and he’s so flustered about it. Lets just say piccolo aint the only one eating out (you gotta work to get that cock)
Once you get his cock out wish your pussy good luck because this man is huge
(8-9 inches and FUCKING GIRTH?)
Sometimes when he’s so exhausted and pent up he’ll need a blowjob from you.
His fingers, HIS FINGERS.
They don’t reach as deep as his cock does but boy do they make you see stars.
His antennas are hella sensitive so if you play with them you’ll definitely hear a silent moan from him.
He is so good with aftercare though don’t worry he’ll always take good care of you.
Want a bath? He’s on it. Hungry? He’s on it. Cuddles? He’s already got you❤️
Broly
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Baby boy I love him so much
He’s a moaner! He’s a whimperer! He’s a crier!
This guy is a sweetheart in bed don’t let his appearance fool you.
He’ll be so gentle with you as he moans into your neck.
VANILLA SEX VANILLA SEX VANILLA SEX
He prefers not to be to rough or hard because he’s so scared he’ll accidentally hurt you doing it:(
Although if you want him to be rough or go harder whisper it into his ear please he’ll whimper for you and obey you so fast-
He’ll put his face in your chest as he rams into you , be careful what you wish for cause he is going to lose it eventually 🫣
Broly will start moaning reaaaal loud once he feels he’s going to finish (your pussy is to good for him ya know)
Be prepared for him to accidentally overstimulate himself-
He’s gonna either go harder and rougher or super saiyan on you. Either way you ain’t waking tomorrow.
This bitch will growl when he loses control and let’s be honest..it’s hot
Broly is PACKING he’s carrying a 10 inch veiny af cock when he’s hardened so he’ll be hitting you in all the right places.
Such a sweetie when it comes to aftercare. Play with his hair he’ll fall asleep immediately but right after he puts himself near your chest so he can hear your heart. It comforts him to know you’re still with him 🥹.
Goku
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He can’t even be serious in bed
He is definitely a dog In heat when he’s horny though.
And when he’s horny he won’t leave you alone-
This bitch will have the fucking audacity to moan in your ear and grind on your ass (IN PUBLIC SOMETIMES TOO)
If you touch the spot where his tail used to be he’ll tremble but overtime it does become sensitive and he’ll tell you to stop.
Is a sweetie though even if he’s rough in bed, he’ll leave marks on you going from your neck to your calves.
He loves cockwarming at night and keeping his seed in you making sure none spills as you have to listen to him snore (no sleep for you~)
HE DO GOT A BIG COCK THO
9 INCHES AND HELLA WIDTH
ITS A SAIYAN THING THEY ALL GOT FAT PECKERS.
He is so good at eating you out like, a MASTER at it’ll he’ll get you to squirt in a minute.
So good with his tongue too 🫣
Will steal your panties and use them to get off as he moans loud so you can hear (HES DOING IT ON PURPOSE)
Favorite position is 69
Loves his cock sucked but also loves to taste you it gets him going~
He got fat balls full of cum so he’ll keep you up all night and day!
His calloused hands are good for clit rubbing 😩
He has no shame in saying the most embarrassing shit ever
Example: Goku: “What’s for dinner?” You: “bro, stfu and fuck me you dumb shi”
He forgets aftercare but he ain’t gonna bail on you
He’s prob gonna just pass out, cock still in you and everything…..”I’m hungry”
Overall 7/10 in bed
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angelltheninth · 11 months
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hsr men with insecure reader?🥹how would they show you are more than enough,maybe a bit of suggestive 🤭love your writing!
I used to be really insecure before, and I'm sure a lot of people are too, hopefully this will make everyone feel more loved.
Pairing: Dan Heng, Gepard, Jing Yuan, Luocha, Sampo, Welt x Fem!Reader
Tags: fluff, comfort, slightly suggestive, kissing, insecurity, cuddles, public display of affection, protectiveness, jealousy, playful biting
A/N: Some comfort for you all this time around.
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Dan Heng isn't the best with words of comfort but he will always make you feel like the most special, no the only, woman in the room when you're out with him. He's always got his full attention on you weather you be talking, asking him to dance, or just needing him to hold your hand when you feel overwhelmed by the attention the two of you are getting. Although you're sure that its mostly due to him not you, still all these eyes on you, on him, they make you want to prove yourself somehow. He knows this, he notices how you tense up when someone approaches him and he makes sure to let them know that he's already taken by this beautiful woman by his side.
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Gepard can't stop talking you up to his friends and even his team. He thinks you're amazing. You could be doing the most mundane thing and he'll take a picture of it and smile over it the entire day. Always makes sure to kiss you when you feel proud of something, his hands cupping your face so gently because all he wants to do is care for you for the rest of his days, he wants you to know that he might be a protector and a knight to the people, but to you he's simply your boyfriend who will stop at nothing to show you how special you are to him and how happy he is to have you in his life and that he wants you to always, always be a part of it because you make it brighter.
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Jing Yuan shuts down any and all feelings of insecurity before they get the chance to make you feel like you're not good enough for him. It doesn't matter if he's the general. If you value his opinion so much and hold him in such high regard then won't you trust him when he says that you're everything he could have wanted and so much more? Perhaps a little demonstration is in order. Grabbing you by the wrist he pulls you against him and carries you to the couch where he props you on his lap, bearing his neck and telling you to mark him. He never lets anyone do this, but you, he will gladly be marked by you, be yours for all to see.
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Luocha knows that this isn't something he can just cure like he does with illness and injuries. This is something that he needs to show you, that you're more than worthy of being his lover. Whenever you walk into town he makes sure to hold your hand, fingers intertwined and to always insist on a single room with one bed so there's no confusion about you being a couple. Both of you are well aware of the looks you draw to yourselves and the fact that sometimes people can be blind to the signs, so in every town he makes sure to go to a stand and buy you something, a necklace, an earing or a bracelet, a matching set, one for you and one for him, showing you belong to each other.
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Sampo can get insecure too but he always plays it off pretty easily as him being playfully jealous of the guys always looking your way. However if he sees that you're the one who's getting down he will try to cheer you up, he won't be too overbearing but he will leave little notes in places around the house, like a secret message for you to discover, to find and that will lead you to him. Congratulations, he is your prize, you have him now, and always from now on. Yeah it was a little silly but you had fun right? He can tell by the big smile on your face, he wants to protect that smile with everything that he's got and make sure no one disturbs your happiness.
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Welt hates it when he sees you feeling insecure around passengers. Some of them can be a little flirty but he has no interest in anyone on this train other then you. Now, he can't quite put his job on hold right now but he can very quickly let you know what you mean to him, if you can stay silent that is. He doesn't mind waiting until you get home though, he'll just have to wear your lipstick mark on his neck for the rest of his shift. A little unprofessional of him yes, and will most likely get him a scolding but its a small price to pay for seeing your smile again.
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theostrophywife · 4 months
Text
kiss with a fist | chapter thirteen.
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masterlist 💋 chapters 💋 playlist
pairing: theodore nott x reader.
song inspiration: we made it - david hugo
author's note: you guys, it's the last chapter of my baby. kiss with a fist has truly been my labor of love and i'm so happy that everyone adored the story as much as I did when I was first writing it. a big thank you to anyone who has read, liked, reblogged, and commented on kwaf. love you my little pookies 🥹
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The rest of seventh year passed by too quickly for your liking. 
The last and final year at Hogwarts proved to be your best year yet, but in ways that you never expected. After the holiday break, you, Harry, and the rest of the Council worked hard to promote interhouse relations. Thanks to Pansy, many events and gatherings were held in which Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs, and Slytherins alike mixed and mingled. 
The first inter house quidditch game had gone off without a hitch. Theo was a natural at finding common ground with the other players, making them feel at ease despite the obvious tension between houses. Slowly but surely, ripples of change started to materialize at Hogwarts. 
The Great Hall was no longer separated in pockets of red, green, blue, or yellow. Each table consisted of an array of members from each respective house. The courtyards were the same as your classmates now felt comfortable to venture out of their usual groups to mingle with others. Even the professors marked the change in the classroom. Pairing students from different houses together no longer felt like pulling teeth. 
By the time graduation rolled around, you were confident that the younger years would carry on the work the Council started. You watched with a smile as your fellow classmates hugged one another. A fourth year Slytherin and a fifth year Gryffindor were both teary eyed as they promised to write to one another over the holiday. 
“You did great work, Y/N.” Harry said from beside you. 
“So did you, Potter.” He pushed his glasses up and smiled. “I think we’re leaving a very different Hogwarts than the one we entered during our first year.” 
“I’m glad we got to witness the change before graduating. It’s nice knowing that we’ve taken a step in the right direction.” 
“What’s your plans for the future then, Chosen One?” 
Harry rolled his eyes fondly. “I think…I’d like to travel a bit. See more of the world. Eventually, I’ll probably join Ron and the other Aurors, but for now I’m content taking a gap year.” 
“As you should,” you said with an encouraging smile. 
“Well, not everyone is brilliant enough to be accepted into the most prestigious university in England.” 
“Don’t let Theo hear that. He’d have an absolute fit defending his beloved Cambridge.” 
Harry chuckled. “So you two are doing long distance then?” 
As if it were the most natural thing in the world, your gaze immediately tracked a familiar mop of curly brown hair across the room. Theo was talking animatedly with a few Hufflepuffs and a couple of Ravenclaws, but he looked up the instant he felt your eyes on him. Those watercolour eyes locked onto yours, crinkles forming at the corners as he smiled. That smile—the way it lit up his entire face, his lips curved into a bright, genuine grin that was reserved for you and you alone made your breath catch.
Gods, you loved that smile. 
But not as much as you loved Theo. 
Cheeky tosser that he was, your boyfriend winked in your direction and smirked when he noticed the flush in your cheeks. 
You chuckled. “Yeah, we are. Teddy’s determined to get his license before the year’s end, but in the meantime, he’ll take the train to visit and vice versa.” 
“Theodore Nott on the tube? Now that’s a sight I’d pay to see.” 
A pair of arms circled around your waist. Theo pulled you against him and rested his chin in the crook of your shoulder. “I’ll have you know that I’m a proud owner of a bloody clam card.” 
“It’s called an oyster card, you helpless git.” Pansy said, rolling her eyes. 
Luna chuckled in amusement. “Be nice, Pans. Theo’s actually gotten quite good at taking the tube.” 
Theo nodded before sticking his tongue out at Pansy. “Thank you, Luna.” 
The rest of your friends followed suit. Mattheo had Enzo in a headlock, ruffling his hair as payback for bringing up the upcoming group holiday in Triora. The eight of you would be spending two weeks out in the Italian countryside, but Mattheo was heading there a week earlier than everyone else. He claimed it was due to convenience’s sake since it would be easier to floo from Romania after Charlie got him acquainted with the other interns than going all the way back to London, but you knew the real reason for his early arrival. Mattheo wanted a few days alone with Isabella before everyone teased the absolute bollocks out of them.
Despite all his cockiness and arrogance, Isabella had him completely wrapped around her finger. It was quite entertaining to see Mattheo’s transformation from big, bad Riddle to lovesick puppy Matty. Even better because your boyfriend seemed to be in utter denial about his best friend dating his cousin who was basically like his little sister. 
“I’m only going early so I can claim a room as far away from Theo and Y/N as I can possibly get. I didn’t get a wink of sleep during the last visit. It’s like you two heathens have never heard of a silencing charm.” 
“We’ve heard of them,” you said with a smirk. “But silencing charms take out all the fun, don’t they Teddy?” 
Theo chuckled and kissed the side of your neck. “I’d say sorry, but I’m not. Not even a little bit, mate.” 
Mattheo wrinkled his nose in disgust. “Absolute nutters, the pair of you.” 
“Speaking of nutters, where’s Malfoy?” 
The corner of Blaise’s lips curved up into a smile. “Across the room. Talking to his fellow Sorbonne admit.” 
Sure enough, Draco and Hermione seemed to be in a heated conversation by the doors of the Great Hall. As you watched their exchange, you couldn’t help but think that the Sorbonne was not ready for its two newly admitted students of wizarding law. The irony of Granger and Malfoy, previous bitter enemies, studying together in the most romantic city in the world wasn’t entirely lost on you. Harry seemed to be thinking the same thing. Although Potter appeared more apprehensive than anything else. 
“Don’t worry, Draco will play nice,” you said, nudging Harry with your elbow. “And if he doesn’t, well I heard Hermione’s got a mean right hook.” 
The green eyed wizard smiled. “Yeah, she truly does.” 
He perked up as Ron and Ginny called him over. Hermione, seemingly coming to a pause with her conversation with Malfoy, made her way over to her friends as well. Draco gave her an awkward handshake, which made you smirk. His infamous aristocratic charm flew out the window as soon as Granger smiled at him. 
“I’ll see you all later. Don’t be a stranger, Y/N.” 
“Wait, Potter,” Theo called as he fished something out of his pocket. It was the sports coordinator badge that you gifted him for Christmas except it looked shiny and new, unlike the worn and well loved pin that he’d taken to wearing every day. “I suppose Ginny will be needing this now, won’t she?” 
Harry took the pin with a small smile. “Cheers, mate.” 
“That wasn’t the one I gave you for Christmas, was it?” 
Theo shook his head and fished the original badge out of his pocket. “There’s no way I’d part with the best present anyone’s ever gotten me, so I had a new one made. This little guy is staying with me.”
You beamed. “My cute sentimental boyfriend. When did you get so mushy, Nott?” 
He peppered kisses all over your face, making you squeal in delight. “Since a surly little Ravenclaw stole my heart. It’s all your fault, cara mia.” 
You tugged at the front of Theo’s robes, bringing him down to you. “My sincerest apologies, Theodore. However can I make it up to you?” 
“I have a few ideas, darling.” 
Draco groaned in revulsion. “We’re still here, you know. Gods, you two make me sick.”
“Shut it or I’ll sneak purple dye into your shampoo,” you snapped. 
Theo laughed as Draco gasped in horror. “Have I told you how utterly in love I am with you?” 
“Love you too, Teddy. Now about those ideas.” 
Theo smirked as you curled your fingers around his tie and tugged. His arms circled around your waist, pulling you close as your lips met his. As you kissed, you heard Pansy and Draco groan while Mattheo and Enzo dramatically covered their eyes. Blaise shook his head at the boys, but smiled nonetheless. Luna, sweet, shy, demure Luna actually wolf-whistled. 
Once more, you looked around at your circle of friends standing in Hogwarts for the last time while kissing the love of your life and grinned. 
You couldn’t have asked for a better day. 
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The autumn leaves littered the sprawling campus, falling like rain in varying shades of red, orange, and gold across the spacious lawn. It felt bittersweet to witness such a visual representation of the changing season, not only in the sense that summer was giving way to fall, but also signaling your transition from Hogwarts graduate to Oxford fresher. 
The past summer had been the perfect send off. You stayed at the vineyard with your friends for two weeks before setting off to explore Rome, Milan, and Venice with Theo. The two of you spent your days visiting museums, eating gelato, and laying out in the Italian sun. Even when you returned to England, Teddy hardly left your side. His nonna insisted on having you over for dinner at least once a week while your parents hosted tea in the back garden, much to nonna’s delight. Her opinion of the dreary English weather hadn’t improved, but she did love chatting with your parents about their occupations in the muggle world. 
As it turned out, nonna was fascinated with your mother’s abrasive personality in and out of the courtroom and adored your father’s love for the arts as well. They talked for hours and hours while you and Theo curled up in the living room watching cheesy romantic comedies. He would never admit it, but you could’ve sworn that you saw him wiping away a few errant tears during Holly’s reunion with cat in Breakfast at Tiffany’s. 
The holiday bliss couldn’t last forever though. One by one, you and Theo said goodbye to your friends. Enzo was the first to leave. You hugged him tightly at the international floo station and shoved a box of chocolate frogs into his hands. A small gesture of thanks for all the treats you’d stolen from him during seventh year. 
“That should be enough to last you for a while.”
“It looks like you ransacked the whole store, Y/N.” 
“Well, I wasn’t sure if New York had a Honeyduke’s. I had to be certain that you were fully stocked."
Enzo grinned as you sniffled a little. "You better write back to us. I just know you’re going to break hearts in the States. Promise that you won’t do the typical Berkshire thing and actually speak to the American girls who fancy you, okay? Trust me, they will fancy you. The accent alone is a guarantee.” 
You were rambling, fussing over Enzo’s scarf. To his credit, he only smiled. “Yes, mum. Don’t miss me too much, I’ll be back for Christmas. Then we can gorge ourselves on chocolate frogs and gossip all about the American girls who fancy me.” 
Draco was next in the queue. You stood in King’s Cross, watching with a little smile as the boys awkwardly hugged one another. Narcissa was absolutely distraught about her only son’s departure, but you wouldn’t have known it by looking at her. As always, the Malfoy matriarch was perfectly prim and polished, but she did hug Draco more tightly than she usually did. She even waved to Hermione, who was boarding the same train to Paris. When it was your turn to say goodbye to Draco, you shook him by the shoulders and narrowed your eyes at him. 
“Don’t mess that up, ferret boy.” 
His gray eyes widened, following your gaze to where Harry, Ron, and the Weasley gang were exchanging hugs with Hermione. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 
“You and Hermione studying abroad in the most romantic city in the world? That’s not a coincidence. You better snatch her up before Granger makes the whole country of France fall in love with her because trust me, they will. She’s a catch.”
Draco smiled a little. “Yeah, yeah she is.” 
“So?” 
“Don’t mess it up, I’ve got it. Now get your freakishly strong hands off of me, Y/N.” 
Just as you released him, Draco pulled you in for a hug. He lowered his voice so only you could hear. “Thank you, for making Theo so happy. You don’t know how much we all appreciate it.” 
You ruffled his perfectly coiffed hair with tears in your eyes and a smile on his face as Malfoy complained about you messing up his beloved platinum blonde locks. 
A week later, you thought you were fully prepared to say goodbye to Mattheo on the same platform, but as soon as you saw him and Theo exchanging a tight hug, you burst into tears.
"Take care of my man," Mattheo said with a wink. "And remember, he may be your boyfriend now, but our bromance is forever."
You wiped away your tears and chuckled hoarsely. "I hate to say it, but I'll miss you Riddle. Try not to get eaten by a Vipertooth, yeah?"
"Being friends with you has oddly prepared me to face the dangers of dragon taming. I'll miss you too, Y/N."
The two of you hugged tightly. Mattheo chuckled as you tugged at his curl, resetting the sentimental moment with a typical brother and sister gesture. He flicked your nose in return before departing for the train. With a cheeky wink, Mattheo waved out the window until he disappeared from view.
When the time came to say goodbye to Pansy and Luna, you were a mess. In true Parkinson fashion, Pansy had rented a private jet to fly them to Brazil. You promised yourself that you wouldn’t cry, but the minute that you stepped out onto the runway, your eyes betrayed you. 
“I’ll have none of that,” Pansy said, her glossy bob skimming her chin as she gave you a disapproving look. “I will not have your tears staining my brand new pantsuit.” 
“Oh, shut up Pans.” The dark haired witch stiffened as you squeezed her into a hug. After a moment, she sighed in defeat and hugged you back. “I’m going to miss our shopping sprees and trashy reality television binges.”
Pansy chuckled. “I suppose I’ll miss them too. Keep an eye out on the boys for me, will you? Make sure they stay out of trouble?”
Your friend sounded a bit choked up. As strong as she appeared, you knew that it was hard for Pansy to be separated from her friends. They had taken care of each other all these years and she had been the glue that held the group together since they were kids, but it was time for her to have her own adventure now. 
You nodded. “Of course. I’ll send howlers on your behalf if they step out of line.” The two of you hugged for a moment longer. “I’d ask you to take care of Loons, but you already do that. I guess just make sure that my care packages make it through customs. You know how she is about her wotsits.” 
Pansy laughed at that and squeezed you one more time before saying goodbye to Theo and Blaise. The second you turned to Luna, the dam broke entirely. The two of you were in tears as you clung onto each other. 
“I’m so proud of you,” Luna said. “For getting into Oxford. For opening yourself up this year. For standing up for the people you love. You were the first friend I ever made. Everyone else thought I was strange and weird and slightly mental, but you didn’t care. You’re the best person to have in my corner, Y/N. I love you.” 
“You’re not just my friend Loons, you’re family. Thank you for being my voice of reason all these years. I couldn’t have survived the wizarding world if it weren’t for your kindness. I love you too, Luna.” 
If Theo hadn’t been holding you so tightly, you were sure you would’ve collapsed into a sobbing mess when the jet finally took flight. 
Those same arms wrapped around you now, pressing your back against his chest as Teddy rested his chin on your shoulder. He watched the autumn leaves fall outside of your dorm hall and nuzzled closer. 
“You know I love you, cara mia. But did you really have to bring your entire book collection? I almost ate shit on the stairs carrying all those boxes.” 
You chuckled. “You could’ve just used magic, you know.” 
“Well, I wanted you to know that you have a big, strong man who can do anything without the aid of magic. Even moving a whole bloody library all by himself.” 
“Oh good, tell him to come in here then.” Theodore frowned, which made you laugh. You pulled him in by the front of his jumper and pressed your lips against his. “I’m kidding, Teddy. Thank you for helping me move in.” 
Theo hummed against your mouth and smirked. “Hmm, wanna show your appreciation in your brand new dorm? I just laid your mattress out and I’m not opposed to breaking it in.” 
“Lead the way, babe.”
You squealed as Theodore picked you up bridal style. He captured your lips, smiling against the kiss as he nipped at your bottom lip. You snaked your arms around his shoulders, toying with the curls at the nape of his neck while your tongue danced with his. Theo kicked your dorm room open. By some miracle, you were assigned a single unit, which was just as well since Theo would be visiting often and the two of you weren’t exactly quiet when it came to certain activities. 
“Hey! I’d like to get my deposit back, you know.” 
“You shouldn’t have kissed me like that then, diavolina.” He pressed his forehead against yours and kissed your cheek. “As much as I love where this is going, I have something to show you.” 
You raised a brow as he lightly put you down. “Theodore Nott turning down sex? Is this the end of the bloody world?” 
Theo rolled his eyes before smacking your ass. “Don’t be a smartass. Besides, I’m not turning it down. Just postponing. I’ll have you facedown on those pillows in a second, right after the grand reveal. But first, you have to promise not to get mad.”
You narrowed your eyes in suspicion. “What did you do, Theodore?” 
“You’ll find out in a second. After your guaranteed promise.” 
“Yes, because every surprise constitutes a cover my ass clause.” Theo pouted and flashed his best puppy dog eyes at you. “Oh, that’s low, Teddy. You know I can’t say no when you do that.” 
Your boyfriend grinned in triumph. “Precisely why I used it. Desperate times call for desperate measures.” 
“Fine, I promise not to get mad. Just show me this surprise of yours.” 
Theo covered your eyes and steered you further into the room. When he placed you right where he wanted you, your boyfriend took a step away from you. 
“Alright, you can open them now.” 
At first, you weren’t quite sure what you were supposed to be looking at. The single unit dorm wasn’t anything new. Brick walls, wooden furniture, and a comfortable sized bed. Except the room felt much larger than you remembered. There was definitely more space now with enough room to store a bookcase, desk, and dresser that hadn’t been there before. And then you saw it. 
A fireplace. Not just any fireplace either—it was a fully functioning hearth with emerald green flames, which could only mean one thing. “Theodore Nott, did you install a bloody floo in my dorm?” 
“Well, technically I didn’t install it. Potter helped me get in touch with that Weasley bloke, the head of the Department of Magical Transportation. What was his name? Paul? Patrick?” 
“Percy?” you asked incredulously. 
“Percy, yes. Strange man. Not at all like the rest of his ginger clan. Anyways, he helped arrange this whole thing.” 
“You went and got the ministry involved?” 
Theo pouted. “You promised not to get mad.” 
“I’m not mad. I just—how did you even—when did you even—” 
“The first night we got back from Rome, I tossed and turned in bed all night because I had gotten so used to sleeping next to you that going without seemed like torture. Then I started thinking about how I’d have to endure that for two whole years and I realized that it simply won’t do, so I made a few calls. Bribed a few people. Now you’ve got a floo in your room.” 
“How did you even get the college to agree?” 
“About that…” Theo said sheepishly as he slid his hands into his pockets. “I may or may not have made a very sizable donation.” 
“How sizable?”
“Can money really measure my love for you?” 
“How much did all of this cost, Theodore?” 
“Ten thousand galleons.” 
“Ten thousand galleons!” 
Your boyfriend backed away, which was probably the smartest idea he’s had all morning. “Before you murder me, please know that the money is being put to good use. I worked with the University to set up a scholarship for muggleborn witches and wizards. I know it’s a passion of yours, so I thought, why not kill two birds with one stone? Because of you, the Alessandra and Damiano scholarship will help give other muggleborns an opportunity to study here.” 
You softened. As mad as you were at Theo for spending an absurd amount of money, you couldn’t ignore the fact that it was actually very sweet and thoughtful. Not to mention the fact that the donation probably hadn’t even made a dent in your boyfriend’s account. You supposed this was a better use of his riches than waking up to a very expensive espresso machine in your house, complete with a barista that Theodore had flown out from Milan to show you how to make proper coffee.
“You’re smiling,” Theo noted. “Which means…you’re not mad, right?” 
“I’m not saying that I’m not upset,” you started.
“But?” he asked hopefully. 
“Well, I can’t very well stay mad after such a thoughtful gesture, could I?” 
“So you like it?” 
You sighed, conceding with a nod. “The scholarship means a lot to me, Teddy. More than you know. I’m glad you named it after Alessandra and Damiano. It’s time the wizarding world heard their story.” 
Theo beamed. “I think so, too.” He caressed your cheek with a fond look on his face. “Do you remember what Coletta said when I first snuck you into the Slytherin dorms?” 
How could you forget? “La storia repetia.” 
“History repeats itself,” Theo said. “Alessandra fell in love with Damiano and they changed the world. When I fell in love with you, you changed my world. It’s the least I could do, cara mia.” 
With a grin, you pulled Theo down by the front of his jumper and kissed him. Your lips melded together perfectly like his mouth was crafted for the sole purpose of being kissed by you. A satisfied sigh left your lips at the thought of never having to go without this—without him ever again. 
“So what you’re saying is that we get to cuddle every night?” 
Theo grinned. “To cuddle, to kiss, to fu—“ He yelped when you smacked him on the arm. “To make love,” he corrected with a smirk. “We never have to say goodbye, only good night.” 
“Gods, I love you. You’re perfect.” 
The boyish grin on Theodore’s face made your heart skip a beat. Even after a year, you still felt like a giddy school girl with a massive crush. 
“The floo also connects to your house. I know how homesick you get, so I thought it would be nice to be able to pop in and visit with your mum and dad from time to time.” 
Tears lined your eyes. You didn’t even realize how badly you wanted it until this moment. You wrapped your arms around your boyfriend and squeezed him into a tight hug. He smiled against your hair and kissed the top of your head. 
When you pulled away, there was a little puddle of tears smack dab in the middle of Theo’s jumper. You sniffled as he swiped your happy tears away. “I can’t believe you talked my parents into all of this.” 
“It wasn’t that hard. They adore me, you know.”
Indeed they did. Your mum and dad had definitely fallen victim to the infamous Theodore Nott charm and you couldn’t blame them one bit. He was the perfect boyfriend and it was quite obvious to your parents that he made you ridiculously happy. 
“A little too much.” 
“Don’t blame them, amore mio. I’m just too charming for my own good.” 
“Yes you are,” you conceded with a sigh. Theo chuckled as you kissed the tip of his nose. “Shall we test out my new mattress then?” 
“You know you never have to ask me twice, but first—“ Theo held a finger up and fumbled with his pocket. 
“Another surprise? For Merlin’s sake, you're going to send me into cardiac arrest, Teddy. You're determined to turn me into a whimpering mess, aren't you?” 
“I guarantee you'll be whimpering in a minute. Scout's honor,” he said with a wink. “Although if you’re going to cry again, I’d prefer it if you did it while wearing this.” 
Theo pulled out a familiar locket—Alessandra’s locket. He opened the necklace. The right half of the heart still contained Alessandra and Damiano’s picture, but the left half was a picture of you and Theo. One that his nonna had taken of the both of you over the summer. The two of you were in the vineyard, the sun setting behind you with its golden glow, while you and Theo looked lovingly at each other like you were the only people in the world. 
You smiled, stroking the picture. “I love it, Teddy. But this is a family heirloom. Is nonna okay with me wearing it?” 
“Are you kidding? She was thrilled when I told her. Said you might as well start wearing it now since you’ll be part of the family soon.” 
“Oh?” you asked with a watery smile. “And do I get any say in this?” 
“Only if you say yes.” 
You nodded as Theo clasped the locket around your neck. The necklace sat just above your heart, making your boyfriend smile as he studied you for a moment. 
“My heart wearing my heart. Seems fitting, yeah?” 
“I love you, Teddy. You have my entire heart forever.” 
“I love you too, Y/N. Mind, body, and soul.” 
“Good,” you raised a brow and tugged him closer by the front of his jumper again. “Now if you’re done with your surprises…”
“Does the one in my pants count?”
You groaned. “For Merlin’s sake Thedore, just fucking kiss me already.” 
Theo chuckled at your impatience. “Your wish is my command, diavolina.” 
As Theodore kissed you in the middle of your new dorm in your brand new university, you realized that even as the seasons changed and the leaves turned, some things would still stay the same. 
Theodore Nott would always vex you, challenge you, and make you feel like you’re going out of your godsdamned mind every second of every day. 
There was nothing smart about falling in love with him. 
But for once in your life, you’ve never been so glad to be such a bloody lovestruck idiot. 
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521 notes · View notes
teyamsgrl · 4 months
Note
Hi Jade!
Do you think we can get a neteyam x human reader with stretch marks? Like the one with Lo'ak?
thank you so much for the req! i love these kind of fics and am more than happy to do one for neteyam as well! it's so important to create fics surrounding natural things like stretch marks that become insecurities as it can prove as great comfort for anyone struggling. enjoy 😊
opposite view ✧ neteyam
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°˖➴ warnings: fem human reader, established relationship, insecure reader, best bf neteyam, comfort and reassurance ofc 🥹 - yawne: beloved - mawey: calm/be calm - tanhì: star
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it was difficult having a boyfriend that was a different species than you, for many reasons. you already looked different as it is, but the small things like your stretch marks made this feeling even more intensified. stretch marks were a thing neteyam didn't understand, it just wasn't relevant for the na'vi. he was never one to judge you in any capacity, but the lurking thoughts in the back of your head came to the surface and all you wanted to do was hide.
it was a shock to neteyam when you began to change the attire your wore, a hoodie being a rarity for you to wear considering the humidity of pandora. his eyebrows furrowed when you came from the lab with a hoodie on the first time but nonetheless didn't say anything, figuring it was just comfy for you. but as each day passed he became more concerned and more intrigued by your reasoning for it all.
late one evening you hear large footsteps marching down the hall of the lab towards your room, instantly recognizing the sound as neteyam. you quickly slip on your nearby hoodie having only been in a sports bra while tidying your room before creaking open your door. "yawne" you call out as you peak down the hallway, giggling at the way neteyam is crouching as he walks. "hey" he smiles and ducks into your room, shutting the door quietly behind him. "missed you" he whispers, bending to securely wrap his arms around your middle. "i missed you too, always" you whisper back, short arms wrapping around his neck as you bask in each other's warmth.
he pulls back slightly, eyes scanning your face before diving in, lips catching yours in a passionate kiss. you hum and let your hands run into his braids, fiddling with them as you kiss back. his tongue runs across your bottom lip, your lips parting to allow him in. your tongue glides against his, kiss deepening with every second. his hands that were once on your back were now wandering, groping and holding whatever was available. one of his large hands begins to push up the hem of your sweater, your foggy brain taking a second to register the action before you freeze up. he detaches your lips and speaks slightly breathlessly, "what is it?" his worried stare makes you well up, tears lining your eyes before they start to spill over the edge.
"hey hey..." he whispers softly, pulling you into his lap as he sits on the edge of your small bed. you can't stop the tears that continuously drip from your chin onto neteyam's bare legs underneath you. "mawey, mawey.." his large fingers begin swiping away your tears and coaxing you to take deep breaths. "you're okay.. what's wrong? what is with this sweater?" he inquires, showing you that he's already caught on and has been for some time. "it's the stretch marks, teyam.. i'm just- embarrassed" you sigh, pulling your sweater sleeves over your hands as if to sink into yourself more. "stretch marks?" his head tilts softly as he thinks, "those white lines, you know, on my hips and stomach.." he nods along as you explain.
"those? i love those... what is wrong with them?" his question is sincere, hands resting comfortably on your thighs. you sniffle, "they're just- ugly! an eye sore, just... unnatural" "i would say the opposite.. i think they're beautiful. you're beautiful and they're a part of you. maybe they aren't on every human, but that doesn't mean you should be ashamed of your body and how it works, even if that means creating stretch marks" his words soothe the insecurity flooding your mind, finally settling down. "it will take time, to not feel so bad about them but i will help you do that, anytime. you're beautiful, tanhì" you smile at his words and hug him tight, your body language showing him the genuine gratefulness you felt in this moment.
sure, it would take time to not despise the lines that stared back at you so strongly in the mirror but you knew it would be okay, especially with neteyam by your side. anything is okay with neteyam beside you.
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sleeping-sirens · 1 year
Text
moles ♡‧₊˚ lee haechan
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pairing : haechan x gn reader.
genre : established relationship, fluff.
summary : you read something on the internet that made you feel jealous of a person you didn’t even know but haechan knows just how to reassure you.
word count : 833 words.
warnings : reader and haechan are whipped for each other, pet names (sweetheart, baby), mentions of an orgasm, naked bodies but no sexual activity involved just a lot of kisses, reader is slightly possessive of haechan, mention of nipple.
a/n : i’m so in love with haechan it hurts. thoughts always full of him 😵‍💫 hope you enjoy this little drabble, requests are open &lt;3
masterlist
buy me a coffee🥹🫶🏼
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warmth surrounded you like an orbit, spinning around your body and interweaving with your breaths. with every rise and fall of haechan’s chest beneath your head, your body fell into a never-ending galaxy of buzzing comfort and sparkling euphoria.
the tip of your finger danced around his skin. drawing circles on his bare chest, grazing over his flesh ever so slightly. you placed your palm flat against his heart, you were not surprised at the speed it was beating. both of you very much aware of the love you hold for the other.
and your hearts never lie.
“i read something earlier,” you replaced your palm with your head, tucking it nicely above his chest.
“yeah?” he hummed, his unusual deep and breathy voice vibrating from his body to send dusty ripples down your spine. “what was it about?”
his plump lips gravitated habitually to the top of your head. your hair slightly tickling his stubbled-chin that he hasn’t shaved for a while. he breathed in, your smell intoxicating him, his brain was full of you and every part of his body, from head to toe, was in love with you.
your response was a kiss on the spot where your ear was witnessing a symphony conducted by his heartbeats. you were his favorite song and he looked down at you with stars dancing in his eyes.
his entire body hummed with prickling goosebumps as you gently swayed your lips all over his chest. his breath hitched inside his throat when you ever so slightly teased a kiss over his nipple.
he was enchanted by the way you made him feel. and he enjoyed your sudden possessive demeanor.
you trailed your kisses up his torso, pecking his collarbones and working your way up his neck. your body moved on its own as you straddled him, lips still hot on his skin. on instinct, his hands attached to your waist. manly and slender fingers dancing across the naked skin of your waist until they nuzzled themselves into your hips.
he sighed against your temple as you placed loving kisses on his neck and smiled when he let out the tiniest whine that only you could enkindle in the loudest settings and quietest corners. and he burned in satisfaction.
you pulled away, watching him gently reach out after you. his beautiful neck, jaw and cheek on full display. all pretty and littered with moles you created constellations with inside the galaxies that your eyes held.
“you must’ve been very loved in your past life, and i’m jealous because it wasn’t me who gave you all these beautiful moles,” you pouted, your pointy finger tracing over the moles of his cheek, making out the shape of the constellation you loved so much.
“beauty marks are where your past lover kissed you the most. they sure loved your cheeks, jaw and neck,” you whispered as you kissed over his moles.
haechan laughed way out loud at your cuteness, thumbs swirling over your skin. his hands traveled up your back, settling on your head and pulling you away gently.
“where did this come from, all of a sudden?” he giggled up at you, eyes crinkling. you were sitting so beautifully on top of his body as he was leaning on the soft pillows behind him.
he wanted to engrave this moment in his heart forever.
“i’m so jealous of your past lover,” you curled your hands on his chest, head down and back slightly arched.
“you’re acting as if i just didn’t give you one of the best, most toe-curling orgasms ever, sweetheart. why are you jealous of my past lover and where did this thought even come from?” haechan was seriously so confused but amused at what you were blabbering about.
“i read it online,” you admitted, shrugging.
he wondered if you had even come down from your high. he sat up straight, holding your face with both hands until your lips pouted and he placed multiple kisses on top.
“baby,” first kiss.
“my baby,” second kiss.
“i’m all yours,” third kiss.
“there’s no such thing as a past lover,” fourth kiss.
“and even if there was,” fifth kiss.
“i can assure you that i love you,” sixth kiss.
“one,” seventh kiss.
“thousand,” eighth kiss.
“times,” ninth kiss.
“more than them,” tenth kiss.
“i love you so much, and i’ll love you as long as the stars keep shining in the night skies,” he flipped you over, snuggling you underneath his warm body. he planted multiple kisses down your cheeks and neck, setting up goosebumps to burn on your skin.
“i’ll forever be yours, forever and for a whole lifetime,” he reassured, smiling down at you and brushing his nose against yours.
“then let me kiss you,” you traced his moles again. you’ve always been obsessed with them but this time you couldn’t control your feelings with him. “let me kiss all the places you have moles on your body.”
“can’t turn down an offer like that, i’m all yours baby.”
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a/n : this drabble basically wrote itself, RIP. reader is me, i’m so whipped for haechan☹️💘 feedback is appreciated, let me know what you think of this 🫶🏼
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greg-montgomery · 6 months
Text
any other world - part 1
Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader - soulmate au
series masterlist
prologue
once again a huge thanks to this angel @criminalskies 🥹🫂🩷
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(38)
“Haley, I said no.”
“I don’t understand why you’re so opposed to that name.” She smiled; Aaron assumed it wasn’t a genuine reaction, but more of an attempt to lighten up the mood.
This happened a lot. She’d say something that made him think of you, he’d have a reaction, and she’d pretend she didn’t notice. It broke his heart, but there was nothing he could do about it.
“If you have a different name in mind I’m open to suggestions,” she added, taking his hands in hers.
He leaned in to kiss her. “Just any other name besides Jack. Please.”
“Okay.”
--
(20)
“Aaron…” you whined, kicking one of the pillows that decorated your bed on the floor. “Be done with it already.”
“My exam is at 8 am. I won’t have any time to revise in the morning. Just give me thirty more minutes.”
“I can’t sleep without you.”
“I know. But if I come to your bed to study, I will not be studying,” he argued, since there was no need of you to say anything for him to get what you were insinuating.
“I’ll just lay my head on your chest. I promise I won’t even talk to you.”
“Fine,” he said, always unable to say no to you; even though your weight on him and your sweet scent would definitely make the letters on his papers start dancing.
But you kept your promise. You carefully laid on him, letting him wrap one of his arms around you. The only thing you did before closing your eyes was kissing the inside of his wrist, just like you did every night.
“Good night.”
“Good night, tulip,” he whispered and turned his attention back to his notes. He’d ace the test and then he’d get to hear the words ‘I’m so proud of you, baby!’ from your sweet lips. Then all the sleepless nights of studying would be worth it.
--
(21)
That couldn’t be right. There was no way that was right.
H.B.
Aaron would never forget the heartbroken look on your face when you saw those letters. The way your excited smile faded into an expression that went straight through his heart and made it bleed.
He was desperate to comfort you, but how could he find the right words to say when his whole world was crumbling in front of his eyes too? Every single dream, every single plan for the future, every single promise had vanished into thin air.
“These are not my initials,” you said quietly. You were still holding his hand in yours, staring at the new mark on his skin.
“Baby…” he whispered, cupping your cheek.
“No, Aaron,” you said, your eyes slowly filling with tears, “These are not my initials.”
Aaron pulled you into his arms as you broke down crying. You were holding onto him with a strength he didn’t know you had. He rubbed your back, trying to clear up his own thoughts.
How could the girl in his arms not be his soulmate? His best friend, his lover, his partner in everything? You were his family.
“I don’t care,” he whispered in your ear. “I don’t care what the mark says. You’re my soulmate.”
“I’m not,” you sobbed, pulling back so you could sit face to face again.
“You are. You’re the love of my life.”
“Apparently I’m not though,” you raised your voice. He knew you weren’t angry at him, you were angry at life. “God, Aaron, what the fuck? How could we have been so wrong?”
“We haven’t been wrong. I’m not gonna let an unknown fucking force decide who I’m spending my life with. You’re the one I want and I’m staying with you.”
“That’s not how it goes.”
“That’s exactly how it goes.”
You closed your eyes and breathed deeply, the way you always did to calm yourself down.
“Maybe we’re just meant to be friends.”
Aaron grabbed your jaw with his hand and pulled your face close to his, “Tell me when I was inside you earlier making you cry about how good you felt, did it feel like we were meant to be just friends?”
You wrapped your hand around his wrist and removed his hand from your face. “It doesn’t matter how I feel.”
“That’s actually all that matters to me.”
A deep sigh escaped your lips. “What are we going to do, Aaron?”
“I don’t know. We’ll figure it out, as long as we’re together.”
“This isn’t how tonight was supposed to go.”
“I know, my tulip.”
“It’s unfair,” you added, like a kid whose toy was stolen by their sibling.
“I know. But I love you, okay?”
“Okay.”
Aaron was grateful you let him hold you when he pulled you into a warm embrace. But it was impossible to keep the thoughts from running into dark places. Like the clear skin on your own wrist which would be soon stained with initials that weren’t going to be his either.
--
(21)
It felt like the mark on Haley’s wrist was mocking you.
A.H.
The two letters you had been craving all your life to have them written on your skin, were decorating her wrist instead.
Haley was beautiful, smart, popular. The perfect girl next door.
You and Aaron had met her in high school. She was staring in a school play he was forced to participate in because of a bet he’d lost. You got along with her pretty well, and so did Aaron.
Back then you weren’t worried over the way they both used to geek over Star Wars – which you simply couldn’t get into, no matter how hard Aaron had tried to make you love – during rehearsals. You weren’t worried when he’d invited her to his birthday party that year and you had noticed her eyes sparkle when he had played his favorite Beatles’ song.
Back then none of that mattered. Because back then, Aaron was your soulmate.
Yet you still couldn't hate Haley, because she was in pain too.
Her birthday only a month after Aaron’s had confirmed your suspicions that his soulmate was her. And you could relate to her heartbreak, when Aaron had to break the news to her. When he informed her that no matter what their wrists said, he was choosing you instead.
Neither of you truly had him, and in that way you understood her.
--
(21)
“Here.” You placed the hot cup of coffee you’d made for Aaron, next to his book.
“Thank you, honey,” he said, reaching out his hand to touch your waist under your shirt. With that motion he pulled you close to him, so you were standing right in front of his chair.
He wrapped his arms around you and your own hands got lost between his hair. Aaron left a tiny kiss on your stomach and looked up at you. “I’m anxious.”
“You’re going to do great. You’ve been studying non-stop for days now.”
“I don’t feel like I’m doing enough,” he admitted.
“You’re always so hard on yourself.” Your thumb rubbed the short hair on his temples as you kissed the tip of his nose. The nose kiss was followed by a soft one on his lips, before you pulled away again. “You’re doing more than enough. And I’m so proud of you.”
His dimples made an appearance and your heart smiled at your success. “There’s my boy.”
“Shut up,” he laughed, rolling his eyes. You could just pinch his cheeks every time you made him shy.
“Do you want me to help? We can go through some questions together. I’ll ask, you’ll answer.”
“Yeah,” he said, looking through his notes. “Haley gave me-”
At the realization of saying her name, he paused.
“It’s okay, you can mention her around me, I’m not gonna break,” you said, hoping you successfully hid the fact that you were annoyed.
He cleared his throat and continued. “Her cousin took the same exams last year, so she gave me his notes. He has written down all the questions that were on the test.”
“Good then. Let’s get to work.”
--
(45)
“Good night, buddy,” he whispered, leaving a sweet kiss on his son’s forehead. Jack usually replied with a ‘Good night, daddy,’ but he was already fast asleep.
As Aaron made his way to the living room in order to clear up the floor from his son’s toys, he heard a knock on his door.
He walked towards it as silently as he could, and looked through the peep hole; the fear of a possible intruder still poisoning his blood.
But the face he saw on the other side of the door took his breath away.
A face he hadn’t seen in years. A face he saw every night in his sleep.
He didn’t let a second more to pass before opening his door.
“Y/N?” he said in a breath.
Your eyes were red, and full of tears. “I didn’t know where else to go.”
tag list: @magical-spit @lilsunshine1092 @hiraethrhapsody @cult-of-enji-todoroki @emo-markie
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sh1-n0bu · 1 year
Note
scara’s electro mark on the back of his neck would totally be an erogeneous/sensitive spot and no one can change my mind<3
⇝𝓨𝓸𝓾𝓻𝓼, 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓼⇜
characters: scaramouche/wanderer x nb!reader
warnings: fluff, light angst, reverse comfort, takes place after scara’s defeat, slight body dysmorphia and mentions of self harm, soft scara🥹
notes: honestly same tho. and as someone who has a very sensitive neck, i absolutely know how he would feel like lmao
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scaramouche hated the mark.
it’s hideous, disgusting, wrongly shaped to signify his failure as a puppet, the reason for him to get disregarded but moreover an eternal reminder of his mo- no. his creator.
wanderer hated the mark on the back of his neck.
no matter what happens, he always tries to keep in hidden, away from prying curious eyes. buried deep under layers upon layers of clothes to at least pretend that the mark is non-existent.
sometimes he would even end up clawing, scratching or even cutting at the small part on the back of his neck as if trying to cut out the electro symbol, carved deeply into his flesh since his creation. but the bloody marks, bruises and scars would end up healing faster than than normal due to him being a puppet of a god.
never leaving a scar. never leaving a mark. just the damned, cursed motherfucking purple electro symbol left behind. shining proudly and perfectly as if trying to mock him.
and this time it was no different. the young puppet sitting on the edge of your shared bed with a frown and a glare. hands twitching, waiting, wanting, wishing to reach out and claw at the symbol again.
taking a deep breath in and letting it out after a while, wanderer slightly shook his head. no. he shouldn’t harm himself any further. you would be sad once you find his neck angry, bleeding red with scratch marks and dried blood under his fingernails. he would hate to make you sad.
letting out a heavy sigh, the young man laid down on the bed, facing away from you- feeling ashamed about thinking of harming himself and breaking your promise.
sucking in a short breath, jolting harshly when arms came to wrap around his middle suddenly, pulling his smaller frame closer to cuddle with his back to your chest.
wanderer loved this feeling. being wrapped securely around you, feeling your warmth seep into his own cold skin, warming his body, warming his heart. the feeling of your heartbeat thrumming in a repeated rhythmic way against your ribcages, the feeling of the thumps against your chest soothing his pain, easing his own non-existent empty heart, pouring into the hollowness of his chest and filling it to the brim with your own.
wanderer loves you.
but sometimes he can’t help but scowl at you- more of a pouting- when you lean down and place a small peck against his electro symbol. face flushing in embarrassment, eyes narrowing back at you in a faux anger- a poor attempt to hide the small glimmer in his eyes- pouted lips twitching to try and control his muscles from forming a smile.
fortunately he always loses in this silent battle between you two. letting out a huff with mutterings of “you’re so clingy” or “you’re hopeless” slipping out from his lips which is already starting to curve up into a smile.
yes, the puppet loves you. hopelessly so.
shuddering with a suppressed groan when the short man felt your lips against the back of his neck once again, pressing on the electro symbol. a quiet, poorly attempted muffled chuckle falling from his mouth when you continue to press kisses against his neck, one hand coming up to rest on your hair- slightly tussling them in the process.
“yours. not hers” when wanderer heard that phrase muttered from you, he felt himself softly smiling. eyes crinkling upwards, lips forming a smile with his cheeks turning even more red.
yes. wanderer loves you so.
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dntaewithluv · 1 year
Text
Private Lesson | myg
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Your little sister finds it odd how you've been taking private lessons from her piano teacher for over a month now, but she hasn't heard you actually play even once...
🎹 Pairing: pianoteacher/pianist!yoongi x reader
🎹 Word Count: 5.5k
🎹 Rating: 18+
🎹 Genre: Friends with benefits to lovers, piano teacher/pianist au, smut, fluff, minor drama/angst
🎹 Warnings: Y/N is lying to her younger sister, explicit language, we love secretly hooking up with our sister's hot piano teacher 🤩, making out, biting/marking, Yoongi has some dom tendencies, groping, there's an actual piano lesson and it's wholesome until it's not™️, Yoongi plays his sabotage card 😈, explicit sexual content, lots of teasing/taunting, rubbing, fingering, multiple orgasms, cum eating/feeding, oral (f receiving), hair pulling, scratching, brief handjob, unprotected sex (pls be safe), sex on top of Yoongi's first love (the piano 👀), it's fluffy and wholesome at the end, Y/N lets Yoongi keep her underwear, really the only drama/angst is because they're hooking up in secret oof
A/N: Funny how I forget this man owns me until I see him again and then it's painfully clear 🥹 This was inspired by and spiraled into this™️ after the YTC concert this weekend. It felt really good to be inspired and motivated to write something again, so I really hope you enjoy this if you decide to check it out 🥰 Thank you as always for your patience and kindness and support I purple you always 💜
Masterlist
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“Okay, Faith, I’m heading out.” you called out as you made your way towards the front door, “Should be back in an hour or so.”
Your fifteen-year-old sister, seated at the kitchen table, looked up from her phone, “You know, I really just don’t understand why you don’t just sign up for one of his classes. I know he offers them specifically for adults. It’d probably be way cheaper than whatever you’re paying for all these private lessons.”
You laughed at her remark, trying your best not to let your nerves show.
“I told you, I don’t feel comfortable playing in front of other people. Too much pressure, and too many pairs of eyes on you. Having one person there makes me nervous enough.”
Your little sister stared back at you, seeming to search your face for some answer to whatever she was looking for.
“Yeah, but, Y/N, you won’t even play in front of me. And I’m your sister. You’d think after six weeks worth of lessons, you’d at least be able to do that. Wouldn’t it be cool for us to be able to play something together sometime?”
You felt a twinge of guilt pierce you at her words and the look on her face. You nervously chewed on your bottom lip as you wracked your brain for a response that would satisfy her.
“Tell you what, Faith. I’ll ask Yoo-I mean Mr. Min to teach me one of the pieces you guys are working on in class, and we’ll try to play together soon. Sound good?” you proposed, hoping it would suffice for now.
Faith’s expression shifted, and you were grateful to see that she didn’t look nearly as upset.
“Yeah, okay, sounds good. Have a good lesson.” she said with a small smile before turning back to her phone.
You waited to let out your sigh of relief until you were on the other side of the door. Well that had been fucking close.
Your anxiety only grew more heightened as you pulled up to the familiar condo. No longer feelings of guilt, but of excitement and anticipation. You felt yourself walk a little too fast up to the door, finger immediately reaching out to push the doorbell. You held your breath as you always did when the door was being swung open. And then there he was.
It was truly unfair how hot he looked today and every time you saw him. He had a plain white tee tucked into a pair of high waisted black pants, a single silver chain hanging from his neck. His long, dark, gorgeous locks cascaded down either side of his handsome face. Every single part of you was buzzing.
“And here I was starting to think that maybe you were going to stand me up for our lesson.” he greeted you, eyes giving you a very obvious once over.
Heat washed over you.
“You know I would never.” you voiced, a hint of playfulness in your tone, “I need the practice, and you and I both know it.”
An amused smirk took over his features, “You know I’m always more than happy to oblige a student in need. Please, come in, and we can get started.”
You sauntered past him and into the condo, feeling his gaze on you all the while. No sooner had he closed the door behind you, than you were being pushed up against it, Yoongi hastily crashing his lips against your own. You matched his urgency as your mouths moved together, and your hands slid up into his midnight strands.
He was always more worked up, more rough, anytime you were late. Anytime you had kept him waiting. Today was no exception as he practically swallowed you, his fingers surely making imprints across the skin of your hips from how hard he was pushing you against the door.
His teeth nipped harshly at your lips as his tongue tangled messily with yours. That wild look you had come to know all too well over the past six weeks was present in his dark eyes when he suddenly pulled back from you.
“Well, shit.” you rasped, laughing slightly, “I missed you too.”
Yoongi’s response was to begin hungrily kissing down your neck, and you sighed out as you held him against you.
“You were all I could think about all fucking day.” he murmured as his lips seared against your skin.
“Mmm, you might’ve crossed my mind a time or two.” you teased back, and Yoongi growled against your neck before sinking his teeth into you.
You cried out, your head falling back against the door. He pushed one of his legs between yours and pressed his thigh against you, making you let out a whimper as his tongue simultaneously soothed the spot on your neck. His leg pressed harder and you gasped sharply, “You really wanna be a brat today? After you were already late? Think carefully about your decision, darling.”
It probably wouldn’t be the best idea to be honest. And you knew you would struggle to come up with a reason to explain to Faith why you couldn’t walk the next day…
“No…no. I’ll be good, Yoongi.”
He kissed you just behind your ear, hot breath hitting your skin, “Smart girl. Looks like I’ve been teaching you something these last several weeks after all.”
He immediately went back to sucking color into your neck as his fingers slipped beneath your sun dress and began trailing up the inside of your thigh. His other hand roughly pulled down the strap of your dress to expose your shoulder and some of your chest. Your mind was starting to go fuzzy. The way it always did when you were with Yoongi. But the mention of his teaching reminded you of your promise to Faith.
“Yoongi.” you tried, but it came out as a moan from the way his teeth scraped against your collarbone.
His free hand groped at your breast over your clothes while his fingers started to dip between your thighs. It wouldn’t be long before you would be lost in your pleasure. Lost in him.
“Yoongi, wait.”
You’d actually managed to find your voice this time, and Yoongi was immediately pulling back to look at you as his hand retreated out from underneath your dress.
“Darling, what is it?” he queried, concern briefly flashing across his handsome features.
“It’s just…it’s my sister.”
Yoongi’s eyes went wide, “Wait, does Faith know about us?”
“No, no.” you reassured him quickly, “At least I don’t think she does. But, she is starting to wonder why after six weeks of lessons that she hasn’t heard me play. Like, at all.”
You watched as Yoongi processed this information, and marveled at how cute his thinking face was. You desperately wanted to be kissing him again, but it would have to wait for now.
“So, what you’re saying is, that you think our weekly “piano lessons” should actually be used for piano lessons?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at you.
“I mean, we can definitely still have sex. But I do think I should at least start becoming more familiar with the piano if we wanna keep this under wraps like we have been.” you explained further, looping your arms around Yoongi’s neck as you talked.
His hands came to rest on your hips once again, “You know, darling, I think I have the perfect solution.”
This time you lifted your eyebrows at him. You knew he was fucking with you, but you still decided to ask anyway.
“Oh, and what solution is that?”
Yoongi gripped you harder, making your dress bunch up slightly in his hold.
“I could fuck you on my piano. That would definitely help you become more familiar with it.” he mused, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.
You rubbed your thighs together before you could stop yourself, and Yoongi, of course, noticed immediately. You quickly tried to defuse the rapidly mounting tension.
“Yoon, I’m serious about this. It’s really important to my sister, and at least this way what I’m telling her won’t be a complete lie. Just teach me some of the basics so I have something to show from all these “lessons”. Pleeeeeeease Yoonie.” you pleaded sweetly, and the piano teacher revealed his gums when he smiled at you.
“Alright, alright. You’re right, it probably wouldn’t be a bad idea. And if anyone’s gonna teach you, it should be me.” he relented before taking both of your hands and leading you over to one of the many pianos he had in his luxurious condo.
This particular one was displayed right by his wall of glass windows. Sunlight filtered through the panes and fell on the inviting instrument. Yoongi gestured for you to take a seat on the bench, and you let out a slightly nervous giggle before sitting down. You only missed his warmth for a second before he was right next to you, hip bumping against yours.
His fingers hovered over the keys with such a natural grace, and all you could do was stare at him in awe for a moment. He belonged here. That was clear as day. He positioned his foot on the pedal below, closed his eyes, and began to play. The notes were soft and delicate, as was his touch against the keys.
He looked so beautiful like this, and you felt your breath catch in your chest. It was as if he and the instrument were one and the same, sharing the same soul. He was lost in it, and the music was lost in him. Out of everything you and Yoongi had done since the two of you had started hooking up, this, this, felt the most intimate.
You were overcome with the sudden realization that you were starting to fall in love with him, and nothing had ever scared you more in your entire life. Yoongi’s eyes suddenly fluttered open, and you weren’t prepared for the calm intensity in them when he turned to you. Without taking his hands off the keys, he leaned over and gently brought his lips to yours.
You felt yourself flush furiously because this was a different kind of kiss. Not the kind that had heat surging through you and craving more, more, more. The kind that made your heart stutter in your chest and sent every part of you fluttering. A kiss that made you think that maybe, just maybe, he was starting to fall for you too.
The two of you broke apart, but the closeness remained.
“I don’t know if I ever told you,” Yoongi began softly, warm breath hitting your lips, “but the piano was actually my first love.”
He grew shy suddenly, cheeks heating at the admission as his hands froze over the keys. He had really shown you something so precious. Something that was at the very core of who he was. All you could think about was how honored and lucky you felt that he had chosen to share it with you.
You smiled warmly at him, “Well, then, I’m honored to meet her. Thank you for sharing this with me. You really play so beautifully.”
He blushed deeper, and his gums poked out when he grinned bashfully back at you. The moment felt as delicate as the notes he’d just been pulling from the piano. You found yourself wanting to stay in it for as long as possible. But then Yoongi suddenly cleared his throat and brushed his hands nervously over his pants.
“Okay, your turn now.”
“You really expect me to follow that up?” you questioned back, the nerves beginning to settle over you once more.
Yoongi chuckled, the sound dancing in his eyes, “Of course not. I’m just gonna show you some basic scales.”
You playfully bumped his shoulder with your own.
“Show off.” you remarked teasingly.
“Don’t act like I didn’t just woo the fuck out of you with my piano skills.” he quipped back, flashing you a cocky smirk.
You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your face, betraying you.
“Okay, fine. Consider me wooed. I guess you can court me now or whatever. After our lesson of course.” you reminded him, and Yoongi swept his hand over the top of the keyboard as if to say “All yours”.
As promised, Yoongi taught you some of the basic scales. It was honestly so hard to concentrate though because there was something so sexy about when he went into teacher mode. Especially once he covered your hands with his own to guide them over the keys. Your brain just went completely blank anytime his hands were on you.
“You know, you could always just join one of my classes. If you wanted to.” he voiced as he helped maneuver your hands.
“Yeaaaaah, something tells me I wouldn’t be able to learn very much. I’d be too distracted by the hot teacher.” you replied cheekily.
Yoongi’s grip on your hands tightened briefly, and you smirked to yourself. But then he switched to teasingly trailing his fingers over your hands and up your arms and back down again, sending shivers through you with his phantom touch.
“I don’t think I’d be able to concentrate either.” he started, his mouth right next to your ear, “There’d only be one thing I’d want to have my hands on…and it wouldn’t be the piano.”
He pulled your ear between his teeth, and you squirmed next to him on the bench. His lips traveled along the length of your jaw, warm and hungry. You sighed out as you leaned into his touch, “Well I feel properly educated for the day. You were a great teacher.”
He hummed, and his mouth vibrated over your throat.
“Mmm, I want you to play the C major scale I showed you before we finish up our lesson for today.”
You pouted even though he couldn’t see it.
“Yoonieeee.” you whined, his teeth grazing your skin in response.
“Play the scale, and then we can start our real lesson.”
You hesitantly raised your fingers over the keys, trying to remember what he had literally just taught you. You pressed down on the first few keys, feeling a tiny victory at the familiar sound. You felt a little more confident going forward now. Until Yoongi sabotaged you by sliding one of his hands over your shoulder and down the front of your dress. He squeezed your breast, and you cried out as your finger struck the wrong key.
“Yoongi.” you scolded him, but he paid you no mind as he continued to knead your soft flesh and bruise your skin with his harsh mouth.
His thumb flicked over your nipple, and you jerked on the bench.
“Start again.” he said simply.
Fuck. This was going to be impossible.
Your hands were shaking this time as you positioned them back over the keys. You willed all your concentration and focus to be on playing the right keys in the scale, and not on Yoongi’s other hand, which was now starting to slip under your dress. You held your breath, making it about halfway through before your hands slammed down on the piano from the feeling of his fingers dipping beneath the waistband of your panties.
“How in the fuck do you expect me to do this?” you demanded in frustration, your body beginning to tremble slightly.
His long digits glided through your folds, teasing you, and your hands curled into fists against your knees.
“Focus. Start again. Play the scale.” he pressed, the words searing against the skin of your shoulder.
Maybe if you just got through the scale as fast as possible. You discovered, however, that when your speed increased, so did the speed of Yoongi’s fingers as they rubbed over your aching core. Your head had nearly slammed down into the keys. You whimpered and started again, slower this time. Yoongi immediately slowed down with you. It took all of your strength and willpower to block him out, but soon you had reached the second to last note in the scale. You prepared to play the final note, but suddenly shot up from the bench when one of Yoongi’s fingers pushed inside of you, “Yoongi, fuck!”
He used his free hand to push you back down and hold you in place before inserting a second digit, making you writhe on the bench.
“Again. You almost had it that time.” he taunted you, and you could see his wicked smirk out of the corner of your eye.
He opted for just watching you this time as you started the scale again, but his hand didn’t cease its movements between your legs. His fingers plunged inside of you, crooking and twisting in a way that was nothing short of sinful. You had reached the last few notes again, you were so close. Yoongi’s thumb brushed over your neglected clit, and you yanked your hands down to your lap to keep from playing a wrong key as you nearly let out a sob.
“Oh, darling, you’re so close. Finish it.”
Your hands were shaking so violently now, but you still somehow managed to play the last few keys without any more errors. All the built up tension and pressure had you releasing all over Yoongi’s fingers as soon as your hands left the keys, and he hissed next to you.
Your body was still trembling in his hold, and you panted heavily as you struggled to regain your senses. Yoongi reached out with his clean hand to pull the cover back over the keys before withdrawing his other one from between your thighs. His coated fingers were slipping past your lips a moment later and pressing down on your tongue. You were still feeling hazy, but you sucked them clean without needing to be asked, Yoongi humming in approval.
He stood up from the bench a moment later, and reached down to lift you up and perch you on top of the piano, your head still spinning. His hands slid up your thighs, fingers digging in slightly. He pressed a kiss to the inside of your knee before slowly moving higher, the feeling of his wicked tongue making you grip onto the sides of the piano.
His fingers twisted into your waistband before pulling your panties down your legs and setting them on the bench next to him. Yoongi pushed your dress up to your hips to expose your dripping cunt, and his eyes blew out at the sight. His gaze flicked up to meet yours, and you could see the desire, the hunger, pulsing through him. You clenched around nothing.
“Lay back for me, darling.” he instructed calmly.
Your heartbeat was deafening as your back met the wood underneath you. You let out a yelp when Yoongi wrapped his arms around your thighs and yanked you to the edge of the piano.
“Fuck. You have no idea how much I’ve been dying to taste you again.” he rasped out, and your fingers scratched against the wood.
He dove right in and started cleaning up your release, your back arching off of the piano as you gasped sharply. Yoongi ate you out messily, his grunts permeating the air while his face was buried in your cunt. The things he could do with his mouth, his tongue, had to be some kind of artform. A skill he had finely tuned much like his talent for the piano.
Your hands reached down to tangle in his long, fluffy hair as his tongue fucked into you. His nose kept bumping against your clit, making your nails scrape over his scalp.
“Oh my god, Yoongi.”
One of his hands snaked its way up your writhing body to roughly grab at your breast. Your body twisted on the wood when you felt his mouth suddenly envelop your bundle of nerves.
“Fuck. Fuck! Yoongi!” you cried out as he vigorously sucked at your clit, tongue flicking over the bud in quick strokes.
He always made you come undone with his mouth faster than anyone ever had, and today was no exception as you felt your high speeding towards you. His fingers dug into your skin harshly as he continued to eat your cunt like he was starving for you. You pulled hard against his dark strands, and Yoongi growled before grazing your clit with his teeth. Your desperate, breathy moans filled the air as you practically convulsed on top of the piano.
“Close…Yoon…” you panted out.
“Come for me, darling.” Yoongi coaxed, voice husky and dark, “Wanna feel you on my tongue.”
He nipped at your bud again, and you sobbed his name as you fell to pieces. Yoongi kept devouring your cunt until you were shivering in overstimulation and whimpering feebly. You felt him finally surface, and it took all your strength to even lift up your head to look at him.
His breathing was ragged, hair wild, chestnut irises nearly black, and his lips glistened with your release. You moaned softly as you watched his tongue swipe across his mouth to finish cleaning you off of his face. He looked absolutely wasted off of you.
“Always so fucking delicious. Could stay buried in your sweet little cunt all day.” he remarked, and you were caught off guard by how fucked out he sounded.
“I think I would die if you did.” you offered back weakly, making Yoongi laugh, his gums peeking out adorably.
“Alright, darling, watch out. I’m coming up there.” he said, and in your post orgasm haze you really thought he was joking.
But within a few swift movements, he had hoisted himself up and was hovering over your shocked figure.
“Wait, are you… You’re, you’re actually gonna fuck me on your piano?” you asked incredulously as you blinked up at him.
Yoongi shifted so you could feel just how hard he was as he brushed against you, “Wanna know a secret? It’s actually always been a fantasy of mine.”
You let out a small gasp as his admission washed over you.
“You mean, you’ve never done this? With anyone? Like ever?” you questioned further, genuinely feeling dumbfounded.
“Never.” Yoongi answered, flashing you a shy smile, “What do you say, darling? You wanna be my first?”
Your heart constricted in your chest at his choice of words. The fact that he wanted to share this first with you. That you would be the one to fulfill this fantasy for him. Warmth spread over your entire body.
“Yoongi Min, I would be honored to take your piano virginity.” you tried to say as seriously as you could manage, but as soon as Yoongi started chuckling, so did you.
“Please, taking you on my piano is my honor.” he voiced thoughtfully before leaning down to kiss you.
You immediately came to life beneath him, your hands finding their familiar home in his hair. You could taste yourself on his tongue as he devoured your mouth. Growing impatient, you made a grab for his pants. Yoongi smirked into the kiss as his hands joined yours to help free him from the confines of his clothes. He sat up momentarily to slip his white tee over his head and sweep his messy locks back from his face, top half bare except for the silver chain laying against his skin.
You shamelessly ogled his broad chest and defined muscles, your eyes trailing down his body to his achingly hard cock that bounced back up against his stomach.
“God,” you whispered as you reached for him, “you are so fucking hot.”
Yoongi flushed at the compliment, letting out a hiss when your eager hand wrapped around him a moment later.
“Like it’s seriously unfair.” you whined as you began giving him a few teasing pumps, and Yoongi groaned beautifully in response.
“What’s unfair is how unbelievably sexy you look right now. Fucked out on top of my piano, just waiting to be stuffed full of cock. Begging to be aren’t you, darling?”
God, he was so fucking hot when he was cocky. You needed him so bad, there was no point in delaying things any further. You released your hold on him and stretched your arms out above your head, inviting him with your eyes, “Do your worst, piano man.”
“Oh, I am going to wreck you.” he growled out before descending on you, and you let out a squeal as his body pressed down on you.
He intertwined his hands with your own, keeping them pinned above your head as his tip prodded at your entrance. He gave them a tight squeeze as he began pushing further past your walls, both of you moaning out at the sensation of feeling him inside you again. You arched into him at the stretch, and Yoongi placed a kiss on your shoulder.
“Always so tight, darling, fucking hell. You take my cock so well. Love fucking you open like this, feels so good.”
You preened at his praise, your head shooting up suddenly to connect your lips. Yoongi groaned into your mouth, finally bottoming out inside of you. Your legs came up to wrap around his waist as you kissed him furiously. Yoongi squeezed against your intertwined hands while he slowly drew back out before slamming all the back in with a harsh thrust that knocked all the air from your lungs. He quickly created a rhythm, driving his cock between your walls in swift, but powerful movements, your body sliding further up the piano with each stroke.
“Fuck…Yoongi.” you moaned brokenly as you lost the energy to keep kissing him.
He breathed hot air into your mouth as he continued fucking the life out of you. You held each other’s hands so tight it hurt, but it also served as an anchor to this moment and to each other. Yoongi grunted, hips snapping roughly with every thrust. Your head was starting to go fuzzy again, and you knew you wouldn’t last super long after he’d already pulled two orgasms from you today.
Yoongi released your hands suddenly, his fingers immediately snaking into your hair, tangling and pulling at the strands. Your hands latched onto his broad shoulders, and dug into his skin as he reached the deepest part of you again and again. Yoongi let out a snarl, “Fuck. You gonna scratch me up again today? Love when you leave your mark on me. A reminder of just how good I fuck you. Isn’t that right, darling?”
But you were beyond words, only able to respond with moans and whimpers as you clenched around him.
“Your perfect little cunt is squeezing me so tight, shit. You gonna come for me again, darling?”
Tears blurred your vision. Everything felt too good. Yoongi felt too good. His cock dragged inside of you at an agonizing pace, making you feel every inch of him. You bit down hard on Yoongi’s shoulder as your nails raked down his back, pulling a string of moans from him in response.
You felt one of his hands leave your hair and trail down the length of your body. His fingers strummed across your aching clit, and you let out a scream as everything inside of you snapped. Yoongi swore loudly as you came all over his cock, and he began fucking you with renewed vigor. You just held onto him for dear life, body shuddering, as he chased his own high.
He fisted your hair tightly in his free hand, groaning and panting as he continued rutting into you. His other hand gripped your hip hard enough to bruise, like he was holding onto you for dear life too. His thrusts began to stutter, and he leaned down to clumsily kiss you.
“Ah,” he moaned against your lips, “ah fuck.”
He twitched inside of you, and then he was coating your walls with his own release. Yoongi practically collapsed on top of you, his hair tickling your face as the two of you fought to catch your breath.
“Well…your fantasy…was it everything…you’d dreamed of?” you managed to ask, threading one of your hands through his fluffy locks.
You felt Yoongi smile against you, and your heart skipped in your chest.
“More…it was more. Reality topped fantasy…hands down. You topped fantasy.”
Your face warmed at his words, and it didn’t go unnoticed by Yoongi.
“I mean, technically…I actually bottomed fantasy.” you quipped back, and he nipped your neck in response, making you giggle wildly.
“Brat. I was trying to be sincere with you. I really like you, Y/N. And I hope we don’t always have to be a secret. I know you’re worried about everything with Faith, and I get it. But, at the risk of putting myself out there and sounding like an idiot, I want the day to come when I can be your boyfriend, and not just your little sister’s piano teacher that you fuck once a week. I want something real with you, and I want things to be okay between me, you, and Faith. Now would be a good time to tell me to shut up and stop wishing for a fantasy. That this is just sex, and that’s it. Just please, say something.”
You felt frozen beneath him, your tongue heavy in your mouth. One wrong word could shatter all of this. Or the right words, the true words, could be the start of something real and beautiful like Yoongi had said. He was laying so close to your heart, and the way it was rapidly pounding would probably end up giving you away anyway. He had taken the leap for you, and to you, Yoongi was more than worth the jump.
“Yoongi I, I’m falling for you. And it terrifies the hell out of me, but it also makes me feel excited, and hopeful. Being with you these last several weeks…it’s the best I’ve felt in a really long time. There definitely would have to be a conversation with Faith first, but I really want this, us, to be something real too. It’s not just sex for me anymore, and I don’t think it has been for awhile. I get butterflies when I think about seeing you. Not just fucking you. But seeing you and getting to be with you, even if it’s only for little bits at a time. Any time I can get is worth it to me, cause you’re worth it to me.”
You waited anxiously for his response, which came in the form of him covering your lips with his own, his hands coming up to cradle your face. It felt like the kiss at the piano earlier, only more sure, more confident. It was like you could feel everything that he felt for you, and you kissed him back, hoping that he could feel the same.
The two of you laid there for some time, just lazily tangled up in each other and in the fragile moment. Yoongi groaned loudly when you finally spoke up and mentioned that you should probably be heading back before Faith started to worry. He had the cutest pout on his face as he climbed down from the piano before holding out his hand to help guide you back to the floor.
“I can’t wait until you can finally just stay, and I can fall asleep next to you.” he voiced softly as he straightened his pants and retrieved his white tee from the floor.
“Me too.” you agreed, pushing up on your toes to kiss his cheek, and Yoongi immediately blushed.
“Hey, do you think I could hold onto this?” you added, gesturing at the shirt in his hands.
He gave you a gummy smile, “That’s not really keeping things a secret now is it, darling?”
“I’ll be careful with it. It’d just be nice to have a little piece of you with me.” you told him sweetly.
“Alright, it’s yours.” he said, tossing the shirt to you, “Can I keep these then? As something to remember you by.”
He bent down to pick up your panties from the floor and raised a mischievous eyebrow at you.
“Yoongi!” you exclaimed in shock, your cheeks burning.
“I’m kidding! Well, kind of.”
He flashed you a cheeky little smirk, and you shook your head at him, laughing.
“Well, if I just so happen to leave here without them, then I guess that really can’t be helped now can it?”
Yoongi hummed before stuffing the garment into his pocket.
“Yeah, guess not.” he agreed nonchalantly.
You felt your face heat once more, and you briefly turned your gaze to the piano, Yoongi’s eyes following yours.
“Shit!” he cursed suddenly, and worry immediately overtook you.
“What’s wrong?”
“It just occurred to me that I’ll never be able to play at this piano again without getting hard.”
You busted out laughing because you definitely had not been expecting that answer.
“Well, then, I guess you’ll just have to fuck me on every piano you own so that this one doesn’t feel singled out.” you quipped back as you gave him a knowing look.
Yoongi’s eyes were darkening immediately, “I think you better text your sister and let her know today’s lesson is running a little late.”
You grinned wickedly back at him, rising to the challenge.
“Whatever you say, piano man.”
2K notes · View notes
megamindsecretlair · 17 days
Note
Could you do a one shot with mob boss Tyrone?
A/N: My sweet Anon, you asked for one and I present to you seven. Why am I like this?
Blackbird, Part 1: Lust
Pairing: Mob Boss!Fontaine x Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader
Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Smut, fluff, angst, cursing, PIV, oral (female and male receiving), dirty talk, praise kink, all consensual. Use of n-word and non-inclusive language. Minor OC backstory.
Summary: You are a dancer trying to make it in a world not built for your body type. Fontaine is a gangster trying to rise through the ranks of a prominent gang. Will love truly conquer all?
Word Count: 10,810k
Interested in a Blackbird playlist? I'm not the greatest at curating songs but these remind me of these two. I may add or remove songs at my discretion.
A/N: Listen, I know. I couldn't get this idea out of my head and just kept writing. I'm trying something new here, so any feedback is welcome! Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios! Or get blockt!
Taglist: @planetblaque @dayjlovesromance @sevikasblackgf @melaninpov @amyhennessyhouse @henneseyhoe @justheretostan @black-fairy3 @superhoeva @jarfulloftears @hereformiles @montysstuffs @westside-rot @blackerthings @blowmymbackout @euphoric05 @miyuhpapayuh @nicolexnight @judymfmoody @notapradagurl7 @soft-persephone @justabovewater20 @soapjay @heyauntieeee @theyscreamsannii @eggnox @honeytoffee @thadelightfulone @tranquilfandomer @kindofaintrovert @l-auteuse @browngirldominion @sunkissedebony97 @lovedlover @issahyland @longpause-awkwardsmile @insburner @slippinninque @thecookiebratz @we-outsiiiide @babybratzmaraj @iv0rysoap @misskiki90 @harmshake @sageispunk @ciaqui @ms-angiealsina @satoruya @hopefulromantic1 @itsbackwoodsbby
Moodboard by the sweestes person ever, planetblaque 🥹🥹🥹
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You looked at your watch on your delicate wrist. Night chased the afternoon out of the sky, taking over in their delicate push and pull. Night was safer for confessions. For reflection. 
The sun’s rays slanted through the blinds and you blinked against the bitter light. “My apologies, would you like me to close them?” Your lawyer, Mr. Gates, asked you. 
“Please,” you said. You sighed and adjusted your neat teal dress across your knees. There was nothing to fix, but you supposed you were nervous. After all these years, you thought that you would carry these secrets to the grave. Everything was different now. 
Mr. Gates moved to the window and shut the blinds more fully, draping you in the safe comfort of his office. Mr. Gates had been part of the family for years now, a profession he took seriously. It was refreshing to speak to someone who couldn’t be bought. Who would never fold, not even under threat of death. 
The office had been cleared especially for you, per your request. People liked to gossip. Busybodies, your grandmother called them. The only sound was the low hum of the AC blowing cool air into the room and Mr. Gates shuffling around. 
He finally sat down at his desk, the chair creaking under his weight. He pulled out a small recorder and showed it to you, the exact model you requested. You dipped your chin in acknowledgement. He took out a notebook, new and clean of any writing. You hoped he had enough pens. 
“Are you sure you want to do this?” He asked.
You adjusted your dress once more, running your hands along the fine, silken material. You licked your lips and looked back up at him. “I don’t wanna die without marking the occasion first,” you said with a clipped smile. 
Each day it drew closer to the date, you got used to the idea of dying. You had a good run. It could have been better. But you weren’t one to be greedy. 
Mr. Gates smiled softly, perhaps a little sad. It was nice to know someone would miss you. There would be one person on this earth who’d care if you were gone. That was something. 
Mr. Gates wrote down something on his notepad and pressed a button on the recorder. He cleared his throat and introduced himself, the date, and the time. He asked you to state your name for the record. 
“...of sound mind and body do declare this to be read as my last will and testament.” 
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“Goddammit!” You yelled. Your fists thumped against the rough wood of the door as it finished slamming into your face. The asshole on the other side was just as faceless as the long stream of dance companies that tossed you out on your ass. There were plenty more, sure, but this one had been reputable. Fair. 
They took one look at your raggedy dance clothes, worn from too many times around the washer. At your hair, styled high above your head in braids they didn’t understand but were obsessed with. You didn’t have the time or the money to go to a salon. Just once, you’d like someone else to bother with your thick hair and its maintenance. You couldn’t be bothered. 
You’d shave it all off but you didn’t want to deal with the mean and hurtful comments about you looking like a boy. Your knuckles were just getting over being bruised and tender from the last mu’fucka that tried to talk out the side of their neck. 
“Asshole!” You screamed. It was open auditions. Open. Auditions. That meant that anyone could come in and try their hand. You had killed the routine. You only needed to watch something once to get it down. To feel it move through your body like a live wire and your muscles respond. To mimic it to near perfection and add your spin on it. Nothing fancy, just an extra oomph that these companies seemed to lack. 
You had waited to the side with the other girls, all wispy, wafer thin girls who took one look at your curves and deemed you less than. A joke. That you couldn’t possibly move your body like they could.
One had the audacity to allude to that, calling it doing you a favor. Next thing you knew, your fist was flying and she was crying foul, blood running down her aristocratic nose. You just gave her a little more character, honest.
You cursed under your breath and moved away from the building. To hell with them. You shifted your dance bag over your shoulder and walked backwards. The marquee above the door announced an upcoming performance. Below it, there was the name of the headliner, Gabriella Greywood. 
One day, and one day soon, your name would be up there. In bright lights. And no amount of racist, fatphobic fucks were going to stop you. 
You turned and headed down the street, running head first into a person, solidly built by the feel of them. 
“My bad, sweetheart,” a deep, rumbling voice greeted you. 
Your mouth was already fixing to give him hell for not watching where he was going and that you were nobody’s “sweetheart”. The words dried on your tongue as you looked up into a deep set of brown eyes that crinkled a bit in the corner when he smiled. 
He had a low fade and short beard, shaved close to his strong jaw. Pretty, long eyelashes that fanned across his cheeks whenever he blinked. He smirked, checking you out while you ogled him. 
“S’okay,” you said, adjusting your bag on your shoulder. He took in your tights and oversized gray sweatshirt. 
“You heading inside?” He asked. 
“Away from it. Those fucks wouldn’t know talent if it bit them in the ass,” you said.
The man chuckled and nodded, like he liked your honesty. Your words. “Fuck ‘em,” he said, gifting you with another smirk. You wondered what he’d look like when he really smiled. When he let it take up his whole face. 
Too bad you didn’t have time for men. You may be behind most of your friends in that department. Their heads were full of getting married and popping out babies while they were still young. Like they were checking off boxes handed down to them through the generations. Grow up, learn just enough, get married, pop out babies, and then your real life starts once they are grown up with babies of their own. Fuuuck that.
“Where you headed then?” He asked. A noise to his left made you look up and see an entire other man standing next to him. He was a bit taller, broader around the shoulders, with a narrow face and a mischievous look in his eye.
“Home, I guess. Until I find the next studio giving out auditions,” you said. Your attention was solely fixated on the man in front of you. His friend grinned and moved away, lighting up a joint. He put a foot on top of a fire hydrant and pretended to ignore you both. 
“Let me give you a ride,” he said. You couldn’t stop staring at his face. He was magnetic. Like he commanded attention whether you wanted to give it or not. 
You giggled, stomach doing tiny flips. “I don’t know you,” you said, giving him a hint of the attitude you’re famous for. None of this, giggly, braid around your finger nonsense. 
“Get to know me. Let me take you to Scarlet Lounge,” he said. His voice was smooth. Too smooth. 
You crossed your arms and tilted your head. “That’s a gangster bar,” you said. 
“What you got against gangstas?” He asked.
“They’re mean, amoral, kill for no reason, run drugs, and turn out little girls. They’re nothing but bad news,” you said.
“Damn, amoral. That’s a big one,” he said. He chuckled and licked his lips, calling attention to his mouth once more. Your body heated instantly, wanting to know what they taste like. What they feel like on your skin. What his hands would feel like on your skin. 
“Not all gangstas are the same. Maybe some just wanna get over in a life hellbent on kicking them in the teeth,” he said. He put his hands in his pockets and you finally noticed what he was wearing. Simple jeans and a black hoodie, faded from too many washes like your clothes. You felt a sudden kinship with him, an understanding passed between you in being in similar situations. Just two mu’fuckas trying to make it.
“Are you saying you’re a gangsta?” You asked.
“If I say yes, you gon’ hold it against me?” Oh, he was dangerous. Absolutely dangerous. 
You had gone on entire tirades about the level of crime in LA. It was insidious. The dangerous, hopeless underbelly that all kids from the hood grew up with was like a giant dome that prevented anyone from truly getting out. Truly making something of yourself. You either joined a gang, married into a gang, or rode the struggle bus ‘till God called you home.  
You could leave. You could find some area where the people would treat you like a freak or like you didn’t belong but you would be safe. None of them would look like you. Or understand you. Change had to start in the hood. There had to be hope some-fucking-where.
“Probably,” you said. 
He smirked and shook his head. “Cold game. What’s your name, sweetheart?” He asked.
You should walk away. There was no way you could entertain someone like him. No way. Your feet felt rooted to the spot, unwilling to walk away from him or this moment. The more you looked at him, the more you felt connected to him. That each minute you spent in his presence, you felt tiny stitches being woven in between you.  
“I’ll tell you what gangsta boy. We bump into each other again and I’ll tell you my name,” you said. You turned on the balls of your feet, walking backwards away from him.
“You gon’ do me like that? Forreal?” He asked. The corner of his gorgeous mouth lifted higher. It was almost worth staying to see if you could get a real smile out of him. 
“Byeee,” you sang. You giggled, heading towards the train station. You turned around and gave your hips a little extra swish. 
“I’m Fontaine!” He called after you. It took all of your strength not to turn back around. You waved your fingers high in the air but kept walking. You didn’t really think you’d bump into him again. You couldn’t afford the distraction even if you did. You’d head back home to your shitty apartment that you shared with your best friend and regroup. 
You needed to keep your eyes on the prize. You had a future to secure. And it did not involve pretty corner boys who talked smooth.
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You finished doing your makeup in the vanity, touching up the bright red lipstick one more time and checked over your outfit. Muted music and cheers reached you into the backroom, from the set before yours. 
Other dancers were touching up their outfits as well, skimpy little things that barely qualified as a costume. The leotards were black with thin stripes, sparkly silver edges that dug into your groin and under your arms. The designer, an evil little bitch with too much hair and a permanent sour expression, thought she was so damn important. Half the time, it was clear that she thought she was too good to design clothes en masse for a dance club. 
You wore fishnet stockings like the others, black leather heeled boots, and a tiny black hat in your hair. You had sparkly glitter dusted across your cheeks so that your eyes would pop. Not that anyone would see you. You were relegated to the back in every single fucking number. 
Everyone here had the same dream as you. It just came down to who was hungrier. Who was going to stick it out. You had been dancing your whole life and you’d be damned to let some wide-eyed, bushy tail ho from Minnesota steal your dream. You’d put in the work, you’d put in your dues, and soon, you’d be headlining your own show. Working with top directors and choreographers. Maybe even get into dancing on TV.
“One minute!” One of the stagehands called into the room. Kimmy approached you and looked at you in the mirror. 
“Another day?” She asked.
“Another dollar,” you said back. 
You both grinned and stood up, heading out of the dressing room and into the chaos backstage. Stagehands moved in a dance all their own, carefully moving around each other with headsets squawking with directions you couldn’t hear. Coordinating the lights and music, curtains, and set decorations. 
The previous music was coming to a close, ending on a loud roaring beat that you felt down to your toes. Adrenaline thumped through you. Despite whatever else you went through, this made sense. This was the time that your mind finally shut up. That your focus on your dreams drifted to the back and all you had to do was feel the music. The euphoria that came with losing all sense of identity while dancing.
You stood on the stairs on the left side of the stage, too far away to see the current set; you’d seen the performance so many times you had it memorized. The group before you had done a circus themed dance, full of contortionists, flips, and tumbles. The performers worked hard to make it look so seamless, you were in awe every time. 
They were due to exit on the right, to not interrupt your group. Their song ended, the curtains closing and claps echoing throughout the club. You were shuffled on stage, getting into position in the far back. Haters. Whatever. 
Stagehands used pulleys to change the scenery behind you, to an alleyway facade. There was a fake brick wall beside you getting rolled in. The announcer, the sleazeball Rusty, was on stage and getting everyone pumped up. 
You looked at Kimmy and made a face and she giggled, waving you off. The music for your number started to play, a slow and sexy jam. You were supposed to be a lady mafia, punishing men in a cold dark alley. 
Once the curtains were open and the spotlight hit you in the face, you were gone. There was only the part you played, filling in the background while the lead dazzled the audience. You told yourself not to care, but deep down you did. It was disheartening to know that in your heart of hearts, you were more talented. You were a better dancer. You just refused to suck Rusty’s dick to get to the top. 
So you focused on the music, on the dance, and executed it flawlessly. You were in the back now, but you weren’t going to stay there. You didn’t see the audience, you didn’t see the idiots at the bar, and you didn’t see any of the VIPs in the back, scoping out the dancers to see which ones they wanted to bring to the private backrooms for a “dance”. 
You didn’t play that shit. You were too spiteful, too hateful, too outspoken. And you’d continue to do so. You had to take a pay cut to not be involved with that shit. It was illegal and unfair, but it beat spreading your legs for dirty cops and gangstas. 
As you danced, your mind was partially split between what you were doing and the man you met the other day. Fontaine. You couldn’t stop saying his name. It rolled so well off of the tongue. Fontaaaine. 
You nearly missed a step and mentally slapped yourself. You focused on the dance, lots of gyrating and popping your hips. Lots of slow glides down to the floor and rolling your back. Invisible prop assistants threw you all fake uzis and you ended the dance facing away from the crowd. You jerked your hand to pretend like you were shooting a gun into the alleyway while a group of male dancers pretended to die.
The crowd cheered behind you but your mind was already beating yourself up. Already going over what you could have done better. It’d help if your performances were recorded but for the “privacy of its patrons”, Rusty wouldn’t let anyone record inside. Phones had to be off or silent and there were plenty of bouncers willing to break expensive phones to ensure everyone’s “safety”. 
Among the last to leave the stage, you turned to walk back to the dressing room. It didn’t feel like thirty minutes went by. You were sweating buckets though. Fat little droplets soaking your leotard and dripping from your temples. 
“Aye!” You turned to the sound. “Over here!” 
You knew better than to follow some strange sound around backstage, but the voice sounded familiar. Like warm caramel. You looked towards the front, where a bouncer stood to ensure that no one slipped past the curtain. 
“Over here!” You walked towards the darkened back, following the sound. There stood Fontaine, standing behind a storage door. He smirked when he saw you. 
“What are you doing back here?” You rushed over to him, pushing him into the storage room. You looked for people behind you. This area was where dancers left so it was hardly used for anything else. There were old decorations here, forgotten sets that needed to be stripped and repainted. 
Fontaine’s callused hands pulled you into the storage room. Somehow, he found the lone lamp that worked and the soft light filled the room. It was junky. Full of chairs, tables, tablecloths. The overflow supplies. 
“You said if we bumped into each other again, you’d tell me your name,” he said. 
“This isn’t bumping into each other,” you pointed out. Your hands were still around his arms and his hands had relocated your hips. 
“Sheeit, this is better,” he said. 
You shook your head. “What are you doing here, gangsta boy?” You asked.
“Tell me your name first,” he said. He cocked his head to the side, letting you get a glimpse of his dark eyes. 
A deal was a deal, you guessed. You told him your name and he rolled it around his tongue like cotton candy. “I like that, suits you,” he said.
“Your turn,” you said.
“Scarlets run this place, you ain’t know?” He asked.
“You work for Porter Sommer?” You asked. Porter Sommer was a ruthless drug kingpin that ran all of South Central. There wasn’t shit that went down in the hood that he didn’t have a fat little finger in. You’d only seen him once and it was enough to turn your stomach. He had dead eyes like a shark. 
“He ain’t all that, I swear,” Fontaine said, shaking his head. “He the only nigga that give back ‘round here.”
“Give back? He got kids doing drugs in the parking lot before their parents pick them up. He shake niggas down for every last nickel they got,” you said. 
“That ain’t us. That’s that bitch Shayne,” Fontaine said. He shook his head. “I ain’t come here for all that. I saw you on stage and I had to tell you that you were amazing.”
Now that you knew who he worked for, you weren’t sure if you wanted to continue dealing with him. You hadn’t given much thought to which side of the street he fell on. The Crips and the Bloods thought they were the top bosses in LA, aggressively defending square blocks they didn't own.
Porter Sommer and Shayne Blandford were the real OGs. They actually bought up the houses and stores on the blocks, doing their hardest to outbid each other at every opportunity. They both preyed on the weak and didn’t care who got caught in their crossfires. 
Fontaine looked at you with such admiration though. Like he saw you. Like you weren’t just another dancer on stage. That he saw you with the same lights shining on you that you pictured in your head. 
You stepped away from him to try to get some clarity. Obviously, touching him and getting that close to him was addling your brain. You were seriously thinking about entertaining a bad boy. One of the worst.
“What do you do for Porter then?” You asked. You crossed your arms. 
Fontaine sighed and leaned back against an old desk. It wobbled under his weight and he looked down at it but then turned his attention back to you. “Do it matter? You gon’ judge me for it anyway,” he said.
“I’m not judging that you’re a corner boy. I’m judging that you work for Porter. That man is…scary,” you said.
“He a’ight,” Fontaine said with a shrug. “And I ain’t no corner boy no mo. Ya boy moved up and shit,” he said. He smirked and you could see him puffing his chest out. You giggled. He looked so proud of that fact. 
You wanted to keep up your defenses against him. You wanted to walk out of the room and tell him to get lost. You could not get your head turned out by a gangsta. You didn’t have the heart for that kind of life. Why did you have to meet someone like him and he was bad news? 
“Moved up how?” You asked. 
“Protection services,” he said and waggled his eyebrows. You rolled your eyes playfully and couldn’t fight the grin that ran across your face. Whether he was outside or in this dingy ass room, he carried the same level of magnetism. Charisma. 
“I cannot with you,” you said. 
Fontaine stood up and slowly walked over to you. He had a mean ass lean to it that caused your stomach to flip in response. He was the total package, both in looks and wit. But, but, but. 
He stood before you and clasped his hands behind his back. “I feel something. And I know you feel something too. I’d like to get to know you, sweetheart. Let me change your mind about gangstas,” he said.
“I don’t pay attention to words, gangsta boy. Your world is dangerous,” you said. 
“You watch too many movies. Real gangstas talk and shit,” he said. He smirked and swayed from side to side. He was hypnotic. You swayed with him like he casted a spell on your body. Each word he spoke wove magic through your veins. 
“Oh, really? Bunch of backroom deals and offers people can’t refuse?” You asked. You began to back towards the door. The only way to survive Fontaine was to escape. To remove yourself from the situation. With his voice and the way he spun words, he’d be liable to talk you right off of the City Hall building. 
“Let me find out you like gangsta movies and you just giving me a hard time,” he said. He looked at you and slowly began to approach you. You had nowhere left to go. Your back was against the door. 
“Maybe I just like giving you a hard time,” you said. You moved your hand behind you until your hand touched the cool metal of the doorknob. Fontaine’s mouth twitched but it wasn’t a smile. Dammit, you wanted to see him smile. 
His minty breath fanned across your face as he leaned closer. You bit your lip. “I’on know if you heard me, but I’m in the protection game now. You don’t have to worry about anything ever again, I’m gon’ give you the world,” he said.
You smiled, letting his words fill up your head like fresh, doughy clouds after a storm. Plenty of people talked a good game. There was a long line of disappointing men who talked and talked but never backed it up. Starting with your daddy. Fontaine’s voice had the deep rumble of conviction behind it. He meant every single word. And you had no doubt that he could back it up. 
But, but, but.
“I can’t be bought, Fontaine. I never asked for the world,” you said. 
“I know. I’m gon’ give it to you anyway. With a matching moon,” he said. 
You dropped your eyes from his intense gaze. The light didn’t quite reach this far, so you two practically stood in shadow. He blended into the shadow. Welcomed it. Like he lived and breathed in it. 
“I’m a man of action. And I’ll prove it.” He dropped his head and kissed you. Electricity zapped your lips. His kiss was languid. Slow. Tongue already working its way inside your mouth like it owned it. Your hands came around his neck to pull him closer. 
The kiss was intense, disconcerting. He knew exactly what to do too, alternating kisses and little nibbles. Your wet lips smacked against his and your pussy throbbed. He pushed you into the door, hands gripping onto your hips like he was holding on for dear life. 
If he was magnetic before, it paled in comparison to touching him. Feeling him. You felt him everywhere. Each kiss sucked you further down into the shadows with him and you never wanted to taste the light again.
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You paused here and took a deep breath. Mr. Gates cleared his throat and paused the recorder. “Do you want to skip this part?” He asked.
So kind. Mr. Gates was always so kind. He was a rare breed compared to all the men in your life. Especially when compared to Fontaine. However, Fontaine had no equal. There was no one who came close. 
That first kiss ought to have been where you drew the line. You knew better than to sit in storage rooms with strange men and let them kiss you. Let them feel on your booty. Just remembering it, brought heat to your cheeks and to your core. You felt the ghost of Fontaine’s hands on your legs, on your hips. That playful smirk tickling your neck.
You shook your head. “I just need a minute. I-I need him to know that it was always real for me. That I went into it with both eyes open,” you said. 
Mr. Gates nodded and got up, leaving his office for a moment. Your mind wandered, thinking back to those early days. From bumping into Fontaine to everything that followed after. Like the Hand of God tripped you over Fontaine’s feet so that you would meet. Would know. So that you would know each other and know what it was like to love with your entire body. 
Moments later, you collected yourself. Mr. Gates seemed to know exactly when. He came back into the office without any prodding from you. You smiled at his kind, grandfatherly face. He had white hair sticking out the sides of his head. You bet he was a player when he was younger. 
“Would you like to continue?” He asked.
You took a deep breath. “Yes, where was I? Um…so, Fontaine did exactly that. He proved with more than his words that we had something songs got written about…”
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Fontaine attended every performance every night you worked. You were still in the background and he looked at you as if the spotlight was on you. He didn’t help your ego at all. 
After every night, he’d somehow sneak backstage with a single red rose to tell you that you were the best dancer up there. He stole kisses after each one too. At this point, you didn’t know why you were still resisting him. You weren’t some prude waiting for a man to drop to one knee; you didn’t believe in that shit. 
There was something a little hot about making him sweat it out. Something a little erotic about heavy petting and making out and living in the moment spent with your lips colliding and tongues exploring. With his hands around your ass and your hand rubbing him over his jeans. 
You hadn’t had many occasions to lust after someone. Sometimes guys made you crane your neck, but you had a single minded focus that saw you through your shitty childhood, through your awkward teenage years, through screaming matches, and slammed doors. You got what you needed from guys, the only things they were really good for, and you left them high and dry. You left them while spit flew from their mouths as they called you bitches, hos, and anything else their little brains could think of.
Funny how once you treated boys how they treated you, you were suddenly the devil incarnate. 
But you lusted. Every dip of Fontaine’s hips made your body respond in kind. Like he had a direct line to your pussy and constantly tugged on it to drive you crazy. He knew the effect he had on you too. 
He always made sure to blow you a kiss while you were on stage. When he smirked, he liked to look at you out of the corner of his eyes. He made sure to grab your ass while making out, squeezing them like trying to get juice from a lemon. Oh and when he got to rubbing his stubble along your neck, your eyes would roll back and he’d tell you to quit being so cute before he dicked you down. 
Fontaine made you hot and bothered. In more ways than one. As much as you were interested in him, you still hated what he had to do to survive. You understood the game, but it didn’t mean you had to love it. 
When you weren’t on stage and you were taking your break, waiting for the next set, you would sneak out to the front of the house so that you could see the performances, see what worked and what didn’t. Sometimes you’d grab a drink and wait for Fontaine to sneak away to kiss you. 
And sometimes you’d see him heading to the private rooms, escorting your fellow dancers and whichever powerful men wanted to use them for the night. Rusty was always there with a grin on his face and dollar signs in his eyes. It was disgusting. 
Rusty never touched anyone but your best friend Kimmy. He took one look at her and fell ass over teakettle for your sweet friend who had a kid to look after. On top of paying her a little more, Rusty rented an apartment for Kimmy and her kid. She didn’t think anything of the little bargain. One man was better than a revolving door. 
Sometimes anger boiled in your veins at the mere thought. You wanted to burn this place to the ground. It was true that you chose to come here, night after night. However, dancing was the only thing that kept the anger at bay. Well, that wasn’t entirely true anymore. 
As Fontaine walked around the tables on his way to you, you found unexpectedly that his presence tamed the wildness of your anger. It wasn’t completely gone. The slightest thing would set you off. Until you bubbled over like a volcanic eruption, burning everything and everyone in your path. You weren’t like that with Fontaine. You didn’t want to be like that with Fontaine. And all it took was a few dozen roses and sweet stolen kisses. 
“Hey sweetheart,” he said, one corner of his mouth lifting. He was starting to grow his hair out. Since he moved to protection, he started dressing a little fancier. Dickies instead of jeans, plain T-shirts instead of whatever graphic tee caught his fancy. 
Fontaine dressed all in black did things to your libido that wasn’t fit for mixed company. The short sleeved black tee seemed like he bought a size down on purpose, to emphasize his muscles. 
“Hey you,” you said. 
“Isaac was telling me about the Fair. We should go,” he said. 
“The Fair? What we gonna do there?” You asked. 
“I’on know. Fair shit,” he said, that damn smirk. You were going to get him to smile if it was going to be the last thing you did on this earth. 
“You gon’ win me a teddy bear?” The question popped out before you could think about it and snatch it right back. You wished you could swallow the words, unring the bell, and ask him something different. Something that wasn’t a little too close to home. You always wanted someone to win you a teddy bear from one of those Fair games, carry it around for you. 
But that shit was for other, softer girls and men who actually gave a damn. For TV movies and shows with people who didn’t look like you. 
“I’m gon’ win the biggest one. So Friday night?” He asked. 
“Friday night,” you agreed, little butterflies taking flight in your stomach. 
“It’s a date sweetheart,” he said. He kissed your cheek and you watched his generous backside as he went back to the backrooms, making sure your friends were safe. As much as they could be. 
When he approached the door, Issac came out of it looking self satisfied. The corner of your mouth lifted in a grimace. Isaac was attractive but something was throwing you off about him. Whether it was his vibe or the oily way he looked at everybody, Fontaine included, you made a mental note to get the full story behind them.
It was obvious that they were close and did next to everything together. Issac said something to Fontaine who shook his head but bumped fists with Isaac. It’d have to be none of your business for now. 
Friday night rolled around and Fontaine was punctual in his champagne colored 90s Cadillac. You didn’t know much about cars, but you knew enough to appreciate the craftsmanship and that Fontaine lovingly took care of it.
It was shined to gleaming, silver chrome glinting from the streetlamps. Night was fast approaching and you had a long drive to Pomona, to the Fairgrounds. It was the first time in his car and you had to admit, you were a little nervous. 
Fontaine got out of the car and you had to whistle at him. He wore black jeans, black boots, and a red flannel buttoned up. The top two buttons were out, giving you a peek of a black tank underneath. He wore his signature jacket, the same one he wore when you met. You had half a mind to say fuck the Fair and invite him inside. 
“I know where yo nasty ass mind is at,” he said as he came around to the street to greet you with a kiss on your cheek. He handed you a single red rose.
“What you talkin’ ‘bout?” You asked.
“I know I look good,” he said. He smirked and stepped out, showing you his outfit. He dusted invisible lint from the front of his shirt and you laughed. 
“You really do look good,” you said. 
“But you look good enough to lick on,” he said. He bit his lip and eyed your outfit, a spaghetti strap dress with a modestly low neckline and blue and red ombre colors. It started out royal blue at the top until it began to lighten around the hips, turning into a jam red at the bottom. 
“And you call me nasty,” you said. You tapped his shoulder and his cheeks puffed up. You half thought you were going to get a smile but he stopped himself at the last minute. 
“Just telling the truth. Matter of fact, you look too damn good. I’on wanna spend the night catching bodies behind yo cute ass,” he said.
“Shut up!” You giggled. Fontaine said the cutest shit sometimes. Threatening murder behind you was not sexy, but when it dropped from his lips it was. It was a type of possession you didn’t think you craved, but you did. You wanted to belong to him in every sense of the word. 
Fontaine escorted you into the street and opened the door for you. You slid inside his car, smoothing your dress over the leather seats. It smelled clean, like some type of mountain scent laced with the particular smell of weed. Fontaine closed the door and walked around the front, climbing in himself. 
Low, thumping hip hop music was on in his car and you looked at him. This was different. He was different. And you only wanted to see where the night took you. 
As Fontaine got onto the 10 freeway, he got comfortable and leaned back in his seat. The seat was further back still and you got the sense that it stayed a little too far back on purpose. He kept his left hand on the wheel and dropped his other hand to your knee. 
You looked at it and it felt right. His hand was warm across your knee and you sunk into the seat, placing your hand over his. The corner of his mouth lifted as you began to speak and get to know each other beyond just his kisses. 
“How long you think you gon’ be a gangsta?” You asked.
“Damn girl. Not even gon’ ask me what my favorite color is?” He asked. The red lights from the cars in front of you lit up his face and you found that red suited him well. The starkness of the color played across his features in a way that made him seem timeless. 
“I already know what yo favorite color is,” you said.
“What?” He asked. He rubbed this thumb across your knee and you lost the ability to think for a minute. 
Everybody Loves the Sunshine played on his stereo and you shook your thoughts loose finally. “It’s purple,” you said.
Fontaine chuckled and shook his head. “Oh, you been paying attention to a nigga, huh?” He asked. 
“Whatever, Fontaine,” you said.
“Love it when you say my name. You draw it out and shit,” he said. 
“I do not! Just answer my question!” 
Fontaine was silent for a moment, weaving in and out of crazy LA traffic. Every year it got worse and worse. To the point that you almost didn’t want to leave the house most days. It was why you started taking the train more. It sucked, but it beat dealing with the mu’fuckas that continued to flock here chasing their paper dreams. 
“I’on know how to do anything else. That 9-5 ain’t me,” he finally said, his voice smooth and low. “I need to know if that’s ever going to be a problem. If you can ever accept that this is the life I’m in.”
He slanted his eyes towards you. This was the most serious you’d ever seen him. And Fontaine was a pretty serious person more often than not. He got this look in his eyes, like he saw the world burning before him and didn’t want to bother grabbing a bucket of water to help. Like he liked it. 
“I won’t promise to never speak on it. I’m…scared to lose you,” you said. You were surprised it was true. You made him sweat for a month, turning down his date ideas just to see what he would do. Testing him, you supposed. If he was in it for you or for what you had between your legs. Usually you could tell the difference with perfect accuracy.
When it came to Fontaine, nothing was certain. And you didn’t know if that scared you to the point of attraction, or turned you on to the point of fear. 
Fontaine squeezed your knee. “You don’t gotta worry about that, sweetheart. It’s me and you,” he said.
Me and you. Those three little words planted themselves inside you, taking root and growing vines around your bones. Sprouting leaves in your lungs and stretched towards your brain, filling it with the oxygen you needed to breathe. Three little words. The wonder of it brought unexpected tears to your eyes. 
You grinned at Fontaine. For the rest of the car ride, you got to know more about him. More about his little brother who was killed and why he joined the Scarlets. Why he took up a gun and was never putting it down again.
It made more sense in context. The circumstances were always fucked in the hood. And the tender heart you tried so hard to guard against all evil only broke more for Fontaine. He told you about how his mother retreated into herself. Only got herself together long enough to fake the funk at work and then disappeared into her room. 
With mounting bills and not wanting to live off anyone, Fontaine did what any other Black male did in his situation. He grew up. 
You told him about your toxic childhood. How your parents alternated between fighting and fucking. That when your dad was lost to the drink, he’d look at you like you were a stranger. And when he sobered up, he looked at you like you were a princess atop a castle. You never knew which side you were going to wake up to.
You told him about your mother and how she always seemed to be jealous of you. Like there was some aspect about how she raised you that she didn’t like. That it was your fault for taking her instruction to heart and not giving a fuck about what anyone said. You wanted something, you went after it. 
There was no love in your house so you got out when you were 17 and never looked back. Fuck them. You didn’t want to stay in that house anyway. 
Reaching the Fairgrounds, you and Fontaine turned to lighter subjects. How or why you got into dancing. Your favorite dancer was Debbie Allen. You wanted to be her so badly that you studied every move she ever made. That you went for ballet because that was where she started. 
She was able to get into TV but that wasn’t really where you wanted to be. Maybe when you got older and your knees started to rebel. For right now, you just wanted to dance. To be free. 
You held hands with Fontaine, talking and laughing while you pulled each other around the Fairgrounds. You’d only been once, when you were younger, and hadn’t bothered since then. 
There were rides and the sizzling smells of meat that made your mouth water. Desserts, weird food combinations like a Krispy Kreme donut burger, and the sounds of children’s laughter. The ground was littered with wrappers, coupons, and papers. 
Fontaine paid for your play cards, dropping a wad of money that made your eyes bug out. He kissed your cheek and told you to go nuts. Anything you wanted to do or try. There was no limit. You told him that he was crazy. 
“The world and the moon to match, sweetheart,” he whispered against your lips. You grinned and dragged him everywhere. On the ferris wheel, on the spinning ride, and on the zero gravity one until your stomach hurt so badly that you had to sit down. Your head spun painfully and Fontaine rubbed your hand while you giggled about it.
You went into the funhouse with its crazy mirrors. Fontaine only had one request, that you go on the haunted ride with him. You were determined to stay far away from it. You hated the feeling of being scared. He peppered your cheeks with kisses until you relented and got on with him.
You suspected that was his plan all along. To have you clutch onto him for dear life. He chuckled at your theatrics but didn’t make you feel bad.
“Come on, girl, I got you,” he said. He kissed your cheek and pulled you into the safe embrace of his arms. You giggled. You was gon’ have his babies if he kept doing cute shit like this. 
After that ride, you settled on Pink’s for dinner. The smoke from the truck was whipped into the sky by a bitter breeze. You should have brought a jacket. You forgot how fucking cold it got at night out here. 
Without saying a word, Fontaine made you wear his jacket. You attempted to tell him that it was okay, if nothing else yo mama ain’t raise no bitch, but he refused to take it back. “I’m hot anyway,” he said. 
You grinned, looking up at him. He winked at you and ordered you food. You ate and laughed and talked about nothing in particular. Shit you found on TV. Movies you happened across. Books you’ve read. Music you listened to. 
You yawned and leaned your head against him after another round of rides and dessert. A huge funnel cake topped with ice cream and chocolate drizzle. Fontaine had to help you finish it in the end.
“You gon’ have to roll me out of here after all this,” you said, licking your spoon for every wayward swipe of chocolate and smacking your lips with a loud pop. When Fontaine didn’t say anything, you turned towards him. His gaze was fixed on your mouth. 
“Fontaine?” You asked. 
He gripped your chin between his thumb and forefinger, bringing you closer. He licked the corner of your mouth and you moaned, feeling his hot tongue on your cold face. He hummed in the back of his throat. 
“Delicious,” he said. 
He pulled back with a smirk, rubbed your chin, and pulled back. Your whole body heated. Cascading down your body in waves. You rubbed your thighs together, wetness starting to pool in your panties. 
“We got a little more to spend before we dip. Let’s get you that teddy bear,” he said.
“I was just joking about that,” you said. You gulped around the tension. So thick, it stuck in your throat. 
“I wasn’t,” he said. He stood up from the bench and held out his hand. You took it, hand fitting his like a glove. He threw out the plate you finished up and tucked you into his side while he walked.
In the middle of the grounds, there was a row of carnival games like ring toss and popping balloons. There was also a basketball hoop. Fontaine made a beeline for it, rolling up the sleeves of his flannel. A staff member scanned the play card and loaded up the basketballs for Fontaine.
He tested the balls and soon, started sinking ball after ball. Your mouth dropped open. He could’ve been a basketball player with that lethal game! The staff member told you to pick out a small teddy bear. Fontaine stopped you. 
“One game is a small teddy bear, but three mediums is a big one right?” Fontaine asked.
The staff member, some pimply kid, popped his gum and nodded. Fontaine loaded up more games, winning each and every one until you had three medium ones and exchanged it for a giant fuzzy teddy bear. It was so big! You squealed when the staff member handed it to Fontaine. He chuckled at your reaction. 
You squeezed one of the arms and couldn’t help jumping up and down. You were happy to take the small teddy bear. But the fact that he kept going made your heart soar. “Worth it just to see your face,” he said. You kissed his cheek a hundred times and he finally smiled.
It felt like your world narrowed to that expression on his face. Watching his whole face light up and eyes crinkle. He had a wide smile that took up his whole face. His smile was infectious but you were too dumbstruck to smile back. 
“Come on,” you said. You grabbed his hand and pulled him forward.
“Where we going?” He asked.
“I wanna remember tonight. And you better smile!” He chuckled while you pulled him to the nearest photobooth. You probably should have done this before winning the bear, but fuck it. Tonight had been nothing short of perfect and you wanted to capture this moment the best way you could think of. Like those shows and movies did. With something real. Not just something captured on your phone. 
You wanted it in your hands. You wanted to slide it into a binder so that you could look at it over and over while in class. Daydream about him in between lockers and free time. Glance at him from across the way on the courtyard. Dance with him at Homecoming. He made you feel young, like you were back in high school with your first crush. Fontaine was everything. Absolutely everything. 
The teddy did fit, and you scooted in first. Fontaine chuckled and sat down next to you. He swiped the card and it began to give you instructions. Fontaine was serious the first go around, mean mugging the camera. 
“Forreal this time!” You giggled. 
Fontaine sighed and rubbed his head. “A’ight, a’ight,” he said. He loaded it up once more. He kissed you in the first picture. Then you did a few silly ones. He tickled you for one of them. On the last one, you couldn’t think of what to do next. So you just looked at him. He looked at you. The camera flashed and you saw it reflected in his beautiful eyes. 
You continued staring at each other until the booth buzzed, wanting to know how many copies you wanted. You printed two and finally scooted out. Fontaine scooped up the two cards and you placed your head on his shoulder to look at them. 
“Thank you, Fontaine. For everything,” you said. He just…he had no fucking clue what tonight meant to you.
“The world and the moon to match, sweetheart. You ain’t gotta thank me for this,” he said.
“Yes, I do. And I know just how to thank you,” you said. Your voice turned a little flirty and you lifted your head to look at him. He looked down at you and smirked. 
“Is that right?” He asked, licking his lips. 
“Yup. We better get back to my place before my roommate gets home,” you said. 
Fontaine took your hand and tugged you towards the entrance. You giggled the entire way, feeling giddy and light in a way you hadn’t in a really long time. Fontaine gave you that. Gave you that freeing feeling back. You thought you’d lost it when you accepted that your parents didn’t know how to love you. 
His Cadiallac sped down the open freeway, too late for the out of town mu’fuckas to fuck it up for everyone else. The windows were down and the wind rushed through the car with wild abandon. He drove safely, but fast towards your place, hand on your knee the whole way. 
The tension was back with a vengeance. Like you were both standing on top of a cliff somewhere ready to dive off. Heat pooled along with your arousal between your thighs and you couldn’t stop clenching them. 
Lust. Lust was a powerful thing. Detonating bombs in your core until you were practically drunk on them. Looking forward to them. Until there was only the dirty thoughts running through your mind and the feel of his callused hand on your knee. 
Fontaine managed to find a spot on your street. You were on the wrong side of Stocker, where you had to get to the spot faster than your neighbor. Fontaine got out first and then opened the door for you. He even grabbed the teddy for you so he didn’t have to come back outside for it. 
You pulled him into your crappy apartment that you shared with Kimmy. Considering Rusty was paying for it, it could have been worse. You still owed rent to him and had to clear out when he wanted to ditch his wife and come mess with Kimmy. She was out with her son and likely wouldn’t be back until sometime Sunday. You didn’t tell Fontaine this. You didn’t want him to think that you were plotting on him. 
But you were. You weren’t sure if he was the type to stay after sex, or once he got off, he was already looking for his pants. You wouldn’t really bring him upstairs if it was the latter. You got the feeling that he was a little clingy under that hard facade. 
You only turned on enough light to get across the living room and into your room. You turned on the lamp. Both of you were breathing heavily. Bodies preparing to experience an unparalleled pleasure. 
Fontaine gripped your hips and you giggled, accepting the kiss he laid on you. The ones before had been tame. He had been holding himself back. These were wilder. Crazier. Lips smashing into yours with a desperate plea to get closer and stay closer. 
He pushed his jacket off of your shoulders and you worked on the buttons of his flannel. He helped you pull it off of him and you licked your lips at your first real look at his body. At the tattoos down both sides of his arms. You didn’t have time to catalog them all, but you would eventually. You were going to lick and trace every single one of them.
He was thick in all the right places. A hard stomach and big arms. His stubble tickled your chin while he started to kiss your cheeks and your neck. You were a twisting mess of flailing arms and legs trying to get out of your sandals, his shoes, and his pants while working your way over to the bed.
You pushed him to sit on it and he bounced with a small chuckle. You dropped to your knees, tugging at the zipper of his jeans. “Yo, what you doin’? Ladies first,” he said.
You leaned up and kissed him. “I appreciate that, but I said I wanted to thank you proper,” you said. 
“Sheeit, don’t let me stop you then,” he said. He grinned, gifting you with another rare smile from him. It fueled your desire. 
You tore desperately at his pants and briefs, freeing his long, thick dick. You moaned at the sight of it. The tip already weeped, precum beading. You swiped your tongue at it and Fontaine moaned, rolling his neck. 
You continued to please him, licking him in certain spots trying to learn what turned him on. What made his dick twitch in your hands or his balls jerk. You wrapped your lips around his thick head and sucked him down. 
“Fuck! Just like that!” Fontaine groaned. His hands disappeared into your braids, tugging on it. You groaned around his dick and he hissed in return. You batted your eyes at him and sucked him for real this time. No more teasing. No more games. No more tests.
You drooled on his dick, growing wetter at the act. You could practically feel him inside you already, ruining you for any other man. You used both of your hands to please him where your mouth couldn’t reach. 
Sputtered words and soft commands filled your ears on top of you gulping him down. “Mm, suck that shit down, sweetheart,” he groaned.
That spurred you on, that you were doing a good job. You gripped his thighs and leaned up to take more of him. “Gah damn,” he said and licked his lips. 
You took him in deeper, as far as you were able without using your hands. You breathed where you could. The only thing that mattered was letting him know what this night meant to you. What he meant to you. 
You slurped on his dick, letting the spit lube up more of his dick for you to slide on him. His moans grew louder, fingers clutching your braids harder. “I’m finna bust,” he groaned.
You kept going. As if that was supposed to stop you? That was the goal! You wanted him to bust. You wanted to empty his balls into your mouth. You wanted to taste every ounce of his cum in the back of your throat.
He gasped and he was unleashing himself inside you, filling your mouth with him. You swallowed him down and moaned, arousal leaking from you. Pussy throbbing. 
Fontaine grabbed his dick and pulled him from your mouth, tapping the head against your lips. You kissed him and he smirked. “You a bad one, ain’t you?” He asked.
You shook your head. “Oh? You a good girl?” He asked.
You nodded. He hummed, the low vibration sending signals down to your pussy. “Good girls get rewards don’t they?” 
You nodded, too struck dumb by him to say anything else. What was there to say? If you opened your mouth, all kinds of sticky, gooey, lovey dovey shit would fall out and you’d never been good at that. 
Fontaine stood up and helped you to stand, he kissed you, not caring that he just finished in your mouth. You loved a nasty nigga. He unzipped your dress and kissed your shoulders while it fell from your body.
He unhooked your strapless bra, freeing your titties and licking his lips at the look of you. “Like two little chocolate kisses for me,” he said. His lips descended on them, suckling each one and learning the shape and feel of them in his mouth. 
His hands worked your panties off, pushing them off your legs. He kissed on your chest as he laid you down and now it was his turn to get on his knees. His turn to push his head between your legs and suckle his way past your pussy lips. 
“Oh fuck!” You moaned. His tongue was a gift from the gods. Long and big, he flattened it against your pussy and moved his head in circles. Your breaths shuddered and your body twisted, legs shaking. 
He pulled the orgasm from you like it was his divine right and you screamed out, lungs burning with the effort. Fontaine kissed your thighs and your belly, wiping your essence off on you.
“Let me taste,” you begged. Fontaine chuckled and climbed up your body and kissed you, letting you taste just how wild he made you. You scratched up and down his chest and back, pulling him closer. 
“Let me feed you this dick,” he said.
“Feed it to me, baby,” you moaned.
He gifted you with another grin. Wide smile and crinkly eyes that you wanted to swim in. He pushed his jeans completely off and next went his black tank. He didn’t have any tattoos across his spacious chest and you ran your hands over him, learning every mole or scratch on him. 
He had a faint scar across his shoulder and you traced it with your thumb. You didn’t have time to ask him about it before his dick was pushing at your entrance.
You hissed and pushed on his chest. You were sure you were wet enough, but he was still massive. “Slow! Slow!” You cried.
He tilted his head and moved his hips, pushing deeper into you. Once the tip was in, he shoved all the way in with one hard thrust. You gasped, your mouth forming a perfect ‘O’ as he stretched you out with a bite of pain.
You slapped at his shoulder. “I said slow!” 
He chuckled and kissed you, trying to ease the sting. “I can’t help it. You so fuckin’ wet. I need you,” he moaned. He fed you long, deep strokes touching a deep, sweet place inside of you that might’ve been your soul. Like he wanted to write his name in the very fabric of you and never lose you. 
You gasped as he delivered these strokes, hissing when he hit that deep spot again and again. Your legs began to shake in earnest. “Mhm, don’t hold it, sweetheart. Let that shit go and lemme feel it.”
“Fon-tai–” you moaned.
“Shhh, I know you wanna call my name. I know you do. But all you gotta do is focus on that nut. Focus on my voice,” he asked.
He stretched you perfectly. And from how much arousal there was, it was staining your sheets. You were sliding up and down on his dick now, titties flapping from the strength of his strokes. 
He moaned, watching the expressions play out over your face. He cupped one of your titties, pushing down to hold you in place while he fucked you. “Mhm, doing so good, sweetheart. So good, focusing on you. Focusing on what I’m giving you.”
“Oh god, oh god,” you moaned, eyes rolling back in your head.
“Shit, just like that baby. Grip it just like that,” he moaned. 
Your cries turned wild, keening, and loud while you gripped onto him and shook and twitched through your orgasm. He hummed while you did so. Satisfied with himself. 
“You-you didn’t…” 
“I know, turn over,” he said. His deep voice let you know that he wasn’t playing. Somehow, you found the strength to flip over. He smacked your ass, watching it jiggle.
He entered you once more and you cried out. You would never get used to his size. Never get used to him slamming and stroking inside of you. 
“Fuck!” You moaned. 
“Yeah, I know,” he said. You could hear the smile in his voice. Hear how he knew exactly what you needed.
He gripped big chunks of your ass and used it like handles to slam you down on his dick, faster, and harder. Your elbows ached from trying to brace yourself against him. You slammed back, giving as much as you were taking.
“Ouue, that’s my good girl. You show me what you got,” he encouraged.
You continued to throw it back, craning your neck in time to see him throw his head back, surrendering to your pussy. It was enough to make you cry out, back bowing to another powerful, earth-shattering, world-altering orgasm. 
“Take that shit, baby,” he moaned and then finally climaxed, pumping you full of his delicious cum. 
“Oh fuck, oh fuck, I need it, baby,” you moaned. 
“I know you do,” he grunted as his dick stopped pulsing. His cum leaked out of you as he pulled out. He spread your ass cheeks to watch. He slapped your ass when you were sure no more would come out. You were thoroughly stuffed like a twinkie. 
Fontaine left the room and you collapsed forward onto the bed, strength leaving you. A bit of nervousness crept in its place though. You wanted to ask him to stay. You wanted to roll over and be all sexy and enticing. As much game as you talked, sometimes you had moments where you couldn’t make your mouth move. 
Fontaine came back into the room with a warm rag to clean you off. You moaned and he rubbed your ass as he cleaned off your thighs as well. You sluggishly rolled over and smiled at him.
“You’re so damn cute,” he said. 
“You are,” you said and smiled.
“When yo roommate getting home?” He asked. 
You shrugged and looked away from him. “Um, I think she said she doing something this weekend,” you said. 
“So you gon’ be home alone?” He asked.
You shrugged again and played with the edge of a pillow. “Yeah, I think so.” 
The bed dipped as Fontaine sat down on it. He grabbed your chin and made you look at him. You didn’t want to. You tried to fight him. But he only smirked and held on. You looked at him and he tilted his head.
“Do you want me to stay, sweetheart?” He asked.
“Only if you want to,” you said.
He shook his head and pecked your lips. “Be a good girl for me and tell me you want me to stay,” he said.
He smiled and you rolled your eyes. He got on your damn nerves. But you couldn’t quit him. 
“I want you to stay, please.”
He nodded and kissed you. Then he pulled you further onto the bed and tucked you under the covers. He defied any expectation you had of his gender. He really was killing it for anyone else. 
Though, as sweet as he was being, you knew that there would never be anyone else.
Me and you. 
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You stopped here and wiped a runaway tear sliding down your cheek. You sniffled. You were both a couple of fools. Two fools in love. In a love that blinded you to anything else.
You should have told him to go. Should have told him that one night was all you could have. Even thinking that, your chest seized like your heart was being compressed under a massive weight. 
There was no you without Fontaine. And there was no Fontaine without you, you hoped.
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Check out the Tyrone masterlist if you need more in your life! The Secret Tyrone Files
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