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#you’re still asking for kids to have sex
onsomenewsht · 12 hours
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Helpless to the bass and faded light
About when she bribes you and you dance with her like a filled stadium isn't looking
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》 Leah Williamson x Reader
》 words count: +1k
》 she took my arm / I don't know how it happened / we took the floor and she said
You don’t like football.
It’s quite a boring game if you stop to think about it for a moment. Two dozen and counting people running around a ball trying to kick it into a huge net.
Not something you look forward to sit through for almost two hours.
Despite your father’s best efforts, you being his only kid and his only hope to pass down his passion, the sport never managed to interest you long enough to care.
You even found yourself in the stands of your dad’s favourite club’s home more times than you’re able to remember, going beyond yourself and cheering when the other people around you did.
The things you do to make your parents proud.
How you managed to have the English captain wrapped around your finger, regardless of your well-known dislike for her biggest passion and purpose in life, is still a mystery for your families and friends.
“Pretty please, just this one”
“Oh, shut up!”, you hit her arm and push her off you, both still naked.
You can’t believe your girlfriend is actually trying to bribe you with sex, not even waiting for you to fully recover before asking to go to the game.
“No, you ruined the mood”, you state as the blonde tries to kiss you again.
The huge grin of her beautiful face is quite dangerous, she can win you over so easily and you both know it.
Leah rises off the bed to retrieve a warm cloth from the bathroom and a clean shirt from the closet. You accept her attention, she’s always caring when it comes to you, but you’re pretty sure the extra effort has a not-so-subtle second purpose.
“You can’t buy me so easily, Williamson”
She can.
“It’s a really important game, my love”
“For who?”
“For me?”, she tries as she slots herself under your open arm, a grin hidden between your neck and the pillow.
“I barely bear you playing”
“You love watching me play”
“I love you, period”
Leah knows how much you think the sport is boring, going way out of your comfort zone just to cheer her. She feels immensely supported when she finds your big smile in the stands, wrapped in one of her jerseys.
It’s not that difficult for you to sit and admire your girlfriend in her element, focusing more on her movements and attitude than paying attention to the actual game.
What you find quite annoying is enduring Arsenal’s men’s team.
The defender’s fingers on your side are slowly soothing you in a compromising position, too relaxed and smitten to keep denying her anything. You know she doesn’t need much more to lure you into her trap and, unfortunately for you, she’s perfectly aware too.
When the blonde’s lips find the particularly sensitive spot on the base of your neck, you’re doomed.
~
You’re glad your father is already dead or you’d have killed him as you take your seat in the Emirates Stadium, surrounded by the Gunners’ colours. Your girlfriend’s name on your back could be the final nail.
The things you do to make your lover happy.
“You know I love you, right?”
“You better never forget this”, you quip back.
The English captain has been looking forward to this game for weeks now, you couldn’t have been able to turn her down in spite of it all.
She doesn’t need to know though, that you didn’t accept to spend one of your date nights watching the North West London derby for free.
“Maybe you will enjoy it at the end”
Nice try, you will not.
“You know, my dad was a West Ham supporter”
“Could have been worse”, she smiles at you, reaching for your hand.
Talking about your father is getting easier as time finally moves forward and your grief keeps changing its shape. Compared to the abyssal black hole it felt like the first year and a half, of its progress.
Leah didn’t meet him, crushing in your life a couple of months after his passing, but she managed to find a space in your heart that keeps growing despite all your fears.
They could have hit so well, bonding over their shared passion for the sport and their never-ending determination to make you happy.
You told her some stories about him, mostly memories to make your girlfriend understand how stubborn and passionate he was about the thing he cared about.
The one thing you all have in common.
“Yeah, he used to gift me a West Ham jersey every year on Bobby Moore’s birthday”
Leah’s laugh managed to overcome the buzzing atmosphere of the stadium, making you feel like she was the reason all the people around you were cheering. You sure think so.
“He sounds like an incredible father”
“Football obsession aside, he was good”
When you turn to look at her, the blonde’s eyes are already on you and the smile on her face is enough to warm your heart.
~
The first goal coming within five minutes has you quite engaged in what’s happening on the pitch, you even drag your girlfriend in a kiss as you both rise from your seats to celebrate.
Your commitment declined quite easily after that, more entertained by Leah’s reactions than the actual game. You nod in amusement every time she tries to talk you through one of her analyses, placing a hand on her thigh to stop her from standing up every time the ball is somehow close to the box.
The second half is more eventual, at least that’s what you can understand by the excitement the defender and the people in the stands around you seem to radiate.
You’re not clueless, you’re perfectly aware a five-nil win against Chelsea is quite the result. You care enough to think you can’t wait to go home - Leah is always in the mood for a private celebration when her team triumphs, especially over another London club.
“Can we go now?”, you ask as soon as the referee whistles three times, declaring the end of your and the Blues’ torture.
Leah’s happiness is contagious, so you’re not mad when she drags you in her arms to join her cheers and enthusiastic dance. It takes you less than a second to indulge her, letting the blonde spin you around and matching her excitement.
When she dips you and seals the move with a kiss the laugh that rises out of you is genuine and loud.
At first, neither of you notice the stadium’s camera pointed in your direction, recording your little moment of pure bliss in each other’s arms.
Looking back at it, as all your friends sent you the viral video, you know Leah saw you two on the big screen and went along with her little cocky display of affection and excitement for the victory.
You’re sure your father could be laughing at it too, despite the colors you’re wearing.
fine.
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luveline · 3 hours
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i would absolutely love a Hotch and stripper reader, him taking care of her after some kind of incident at her club or something? maybe a bit of angry hotch at the beginning, some angst? 💗💗💗
Your throat burns by the time his car pulls up. 
You take the butt of the cigarette from between your lips and ash it next to the first. Your hand is sore between the index finger and thumb from a bad stretch, aching as you press into your pocket for your stolen box of Marlboro golds. You’ll apologise for taking them some other time. 
You press the third between your lips and flick the lighter. You’re not good at lighting them, worse at the first inhale, your throat an agony that rivals the sting of your battered cheek. 
Shoes on the sidewalk, a scratch of loose gravel. Your eyes well with another line of tears that you work hard to hold in, taking another quick, cruel drag. They don’t make cigarettes long enough, in your opinion. They don’t last. 
He stops in front of you. Quiet, Agent Hotchner looks down at you where you’re sitting on the low wall, expression as steely as ever. You meet his eyes, worried your wobbly lip is giving you away, not sure calling him was the right thing to do after all. 
When he raises his hand to the cigarette you let him take it. His fingers wrap carefully around the butt of it, the side of his thumb brushing your lips. 
He flicks it to the ground and steps on it flat. 
You don’t say hello. It’s obvious you’ll cry, he can tell too, and he doesn’t make you. You wince as he raises his hand again, your eyes squinting closed, but he isn’t going to hurt you. His palm is warm where it cups your cheek, turning your face to the light emanating off of the club neons. 
“Do you know his name?” he asks. 
“No.” 
He raises your chin higher still. His frown turns to a glare, the brunt of which is directed elsewhere but intimidating all the same. His touching is gentle at least. 
“What happened?” 
“I told him no.” 
His jaw ticks. “Can I take you home?” 
You sniffle, turning your face out of his hand and down to your lap. He’s kissed you, he’s done more than that, but he knows you’d felt like you had no choice and so he’s giving it to you now. It’s exactly why you’d called him. It’s the man he is, and he should never have ended up looking after you. 
“Sorry I called you,” you say, hiding your face in one hand. Pain flickers behind your eyes as tears mount for the tenth time tonight. 
Hotch gives a sigh, sitting on the wall beside you. He wraps his arm behind your back and with a familiarity you need desperately. You press yourself into his side, sew your arm hesitantly over his stomach, the starch of a pressed shirt crisp on your clammy skin. 
“It’s cold out here,” he murmurs, bringing both hands to your arm, one to hold you tight, the other to rub your cool skin. 
“I think I want to quit.” 
He nods into the side of your head. “I think you should,” he says, “if that’s what you want… honey, you can do whatever you want.” 
“I don’t think I can. I’m trapped and it’s my fault.” 
“It’s not your fault.” He encourages your head under his, your face to his neck. When he talks, it’s a quiet, lulling promise. “You’re not trapped. I’ll do anything you need me to do. If you want an apartment, I’ll get it for you. If you want to shut this place down, I will. The last thing either of us want is for you to work here when you don’t want to.” 
“You don’t have to say work here like I’m not a glorified prostitute,” you say hotly, anger turned in rather than out. 
“You don’t really think that.”
Being a sex worker is complicated. You don’t know how you feel about it, and you can’t ever understand why Hotch would bother with you. You’d worried at first that your vulnerability is what attracted him, like a kid with a broken bird, but he’s proved a hundred times that your job is pretty much separate from why he likes you. He thinks you're pretty. He loves your voice. You make each other laugh, and somehow inexplicably he’s the first person you call when things go wrong. 
“Quit your job,” he says. “Even if it’s just to dance somewhere else.” 
“You can say strip.”
He nods. “You shouldn’t have to worry whether your ‘no’ will be met with a backhand. You know that breaks my heart?” 
You blink and pull away from him. He isn’t unemotional, but it’s a surprise nonetheless to hear him talk like this. “Aaron–” 
“Please,” he says. “I shouldn’t ask you to. But there are better places for you. You deserve more.” 
If it were anyone else you might get defensive. Only people who do your job could understand why you do it, it’s a hundred different things to you, but you do deserve more. You’re sick of leery men, sick of wolf whistles and bad tips and other people's hands. Hotch has never asked you to stop, but now he is, it’s to keep you safe. 
You can’t begrudge him. 
“I’m sorry,” you say. 
“No.” He rubs your arm. “I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that. And I’ll make it right.” 
“It’s not your fault.” 
“I’ll make it right,” he promises. “No matter what. No one gets to hurt you.” 
You could quit. You want to. Even if it’s just for a couple of weeks, just so you don’t have to pretend you know what you’re doing. You’ll think about it in the morning. “Could I stay with you for a bit?” you whisper. “Just tonight. Please.” 
Hotch taps your back for you to stand. He stands with you, brushing down your coat, his eyes impassive where they look over your face, your purpling bruise. 
“You can wait in the car,” he says quietly. “I’m going to ask a few questions inside before we leave.” 
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knavesflames · 2 days
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@alfiikae I have written it 😳 it is not the best because I got tired halfway through but decided I couldn’t not finish it. This is NOT my best work I don’t love this
This is very OOC for Arlecchino I think, but who cares? Not me
Sequel to the ask I received about childhood Arle and reader as friends!
Contents: crying, mention of self harm (not graphic, but mentioned and briefly talked about without naming it), just sadness
Word count: 3181
Under the cut!!
(Poor reader lmao, projecting all of my school experiences onto her 😓😓)
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That day was stupid, you tell yourself. She hurt you, and you shouldn’t have let her back in. You still remember the humiliation of telling your mother that no, she couldn’t come for dinner because you were wrong, and she wasn’t your friend, and that the kids were right, you were weird and weird people deserve to be by themselves. You can still remember the pitying face your mother gave you as you shrunk off to your room to play with more rocks. The memory of you playing with those damn rocks fills your brain as you stare down at the textbook. Why are you so interested in rocks and stones? You don’t know, and part of you wishes you weren’t. You slam the book shut just as a knock on your door sounds out, and Arlecchino’s voice rings out.
“Are you here? You haven’t been answering my messages. I am confused.”
You try to stay silent because there’s no way in hell you want to answer the door right now. You’ve been avoiding her since that night, just like the way you’ve been avoiding everyone else. A vow made to yourself one day in freshman year of high school, avoid everyone like the plague.
“I can see your feet, can you please answer the door?”
A sigh, and your chair pushes back as you stand, walking reluctantly towards the door before you open it, poking your head out.
“What?”
“Can I come in?”
“I’m kind of busy.”
“You’ve been busy since-“
You cut her words short, your voice slightly distant, no trace of the warm child she once rejected.
“Yeah, well, I’m busy. Maybe another time, yeah?”
Your attempt to shut the door fails when her foot blocks the way, her face stern and her eyes dark with.. what is that? Worry? Guilt? Annoyance? You sigh, walking towards your desk again as you clutch the sleeves of your sweater to stop yourself from either crying in frustration or snapping at her.
“Why have you been ignoring me? We had sex, you can’t just ignore me like nothing happened.”
“You’re one to talk about being ignored, hm?”
“..touché. But the point stands.”
“Okay.”
Your head is in your textbook again as you try to grasp how to tell the age of rocks by the patterns inside. Your hand on your temple, attempting to block out the fact she’s stood right there, staring into you like she’s trying to analyse you.
“Damn it, what the hell is wrong? What is your problem?”
“You tell me.”
“I said and did one thing like ten years ago and you still haven’t let go of it! You have to move on. I’m trying to reconnect with you.”
“I’m a weirdo, remember? Why would I try to reconnect with someone who thinks I’m a weirdo? I’d rather hang out with my textbooks and rocks.”
Your voice is sharper than it usually is. You know from so many years of this that you have to toughen yourself up. You can’t let people treat you like this, you know that, but..
“That’s exactly the problem. All you care about is rocks, you never even tried to talk to people.”
Your head snaps around sharply in her direction, a glare on your once smiling face. Your tongue finds its way between your teeth as you take a breath. You can already feel the familiar stabbing pain in your chest.
“I have tried. You just didn’t care to pay attention. I care only about rocks because they’re the only things that won’t be horrible to me! Like you’re any better with your stupid insects.”
You hear a sharp breath being taken as her fists clench for a second. Your face is unreadable, but she can see you’re hurt. She feels guilty, but she’s so annoyed at the same time. She can’t figure you out the way she wants to, she can’t read you the way she can with other people. It’s like you’ve locked yourself away behind a wall that can’t be demolished.
“What the hell happened to you?”
“What? Are you asking me if I was dropped on the head as a baby?”
The words make Arlecchino stop. That was so specific, too specific to not have been said to you before. And your voice is so sharp, so distant. The guilt is beginning to form in a pit in her stomach, pulling her downwards into a sea of anger. Her eyes flick over you, noticing the thing she’s noticed constantly about you.
“No. I’m asking what happened. You were such a happy child and then one day you just weren’t. You were so social and then you stopped talking to anyone, and nobody said anything about it either.”
“Mhm.”
“And now you’re not you. I don’t like it.”
Your mind recalls everything. The day she ditched you seems like such a small thing, but it wasn’t. Not when you pair it with everything else that happened. It was just the icing on the cake. You still remember the feeling, what you turned to, the nights alone. Your vision blurs, but you blink rapidly, fighting the tears away. Arlecchino waits patiently, standing there as she stares at you, analysing your appearance, analysing everything she can about you like you’re one of her insects she plans to research. You’ve never spoken to anyone about this, and you never dreamed of doing it. Especially not to her. But the words beginning spilling out of your mouth in both anger and sorrow.
“Nobody liked me, so I changed. Being me was the wrong thing to do.”
“Wrong? No. People liked you.”
You scoff, raising an eyebrow in disbelief. You know that’s not true, people have told you that.
“Do not lie. Nobody liked me, and it isn’t like they made that painfully obvious.”
“What do you even mean by that? Is that why you..”
She gestures a hand to you, and you know what she means. It isn’t hard to know what she means. Your eyes narrow, and your tone becomes defensive.
“How do you-“
“I just know. I saw one time. You weren’t the best at hiding it, you know. And you didn’t take your sweater off when we had sex. It adds up.”
“Right.”
“You shouldn’t do that, you know. Why? What drove you to start with that? Because people didn’t like you?”
Your jaw tenses. You don’t even know what to say to that. Your hands clasp in front of you, bringing the sleeves of your sweater against your palms, an old childhood habit really, but you never really paid attention to it. You stare in silence for a while before your voice sounds out, quiet, almost sad.
“I don’t need a lecture.”
“Sorry.”
“You really don’t know?”
“No.”
“You don’t remember that the janitor had to lock the changing rooms after school hours because a girl got locked in there for the weekend?”
Arlecchino’s eyes widen for a second as she tries to recall that. She does, in fact, vaguely remember that someone was locked in the changing rooms for an entire weekend in freshman year, and was only found again on the Monday when they had gym class. She feels the pit in her stomach grow significantly.
“That was you?”
“Mhm.”
“What happened?”
“Do you even care?”
A pause, and then:
“I do.”
You begin explaining for the first time in your life, your voice thick and almost wavering. You stare straight ahead at the small amethyst geode next to your bed, refusing to make eye contact. And you explain everything, everything from first grade to now.
“People didn’t like me because they thought I was weird. They thought I was too interested in rocks and that they couldn’t talk to me because of that.”
“You are too interested in rocks.”
“You can go if you’re going to begin with that.”
“No, you’re right. Keep going.”
Your throat constricts. For some reason, all of your anger is towards her. In a sense, she was the catalyst for everything. Not that it’s inherently her fault, but you can’t get her words out of your head.
“I kept trying to make friends but it wasn’t working. They would always play with other girls, which was.. I don’t know, sad, but I could play with myself. Then they wanted to play with me all of a sudden, so we would play hide and seek. They would ask me to hide and they would find me, but they didn’t even try to find me. It was just a ploy to get me away from them. I didn’t get it. I remember thinking that I was a bit sad they never found me until I hid really close to them. I found out they weren’t actually trying to find me, they just talked about me. They called me weird for liking rocks and wanting to play with them.”
You pause, taking a shaky breath before you continue. Arlecchino’s stomach is completely filled with guilt now, because she can tell where this is going. She has the urge to reach out and grab your hand. To trace her fingers over your skin. She doesn’t.
“Then I met you. You tolerated me, at least. And I had never had a friend before. So I remember running home and talking about you to my mom. She was worried, you know. She knew I didn’t have any friends and she saw it made me sad. She was so excited for me and when we stayed friends for a bit— well, ‘friends’, she asked if you wanted to come for dinner. She said I could ask if you wanted to come. I was so happy and I had this whole idea that we were going to swing on the swings in the park and maybe go to the library you liked so much. It turns out you didn’t like me at all.”
Your fingers pick at your nails, and it’s clear that’s something you do often by the way your skin is red and peeling. It was the opposite of her not liking you. She did like you. So much so, that she realised that she was different from other people.
“Stop that.”
Her hand finally reaches over and grabs yours, stopping you from causing more damage to your skin. Her hand are a contrast from yours, her hands patterned and blackened, almost charred and long nails painted perfectly, with your hands being plain, blunt nails that are bitten down. Tears gather on your lashes now as you keep staring at the geode, one you got for your 15th birthday.
“I had to go home to my mom that day and see her excited face. I remember she asked me what you wanted to eat, what she should make and I.. damn it, it was so hard telling her you— yeah. Her face fell, she was so happy I had a friend, and now I didn’t. She asked if I was sad, I said no. I said I didn’t care. I said I knew I was weird anyway and the girls at school said weirdos can’t make friends so it all made sense. I heard her talking to my dad when she thought I was sleeping that night, she was so sad for me.”
“I didn’t mean for it to be so mean.”
“It doesn’t help now. That was just the start of everything.”
A singular tear finally drops from your eyelid, hitting your skin. Everything is running through your mind and it’s so overwhelming you can’t help but choke down a quiet sob. Arlecchino’s own eyes are tearing up, despite her best efforts to hide it. She feels like the guilt is eating her, that the shame of what she said is sucking her into a hole. Ashamed that she said and did all of those things only to fuck you years later like nothing happened. She doesn’t want to hear anymore. But she tells herself that she needs to.
“The other kids caught wind of what happened. “If the loner girl doesn’t want to be friends with her, why would anyone else?” I kept trying to join in conversations, I kept trying to make friends, but it never worked. I got weird looks and insults. I threw a party for my 15th birthday. I invited everyone. Even you. I think a part of me was desperate for someone to show up. I got everything ready at my house, I bought so much food and I had a cake. People said they were coming. They—“
Your words are cut off by a sob. This is the first time you’ve shown any type of emotion in front of someone in years, and you’re cursing yourself for it. And Arlecchino, she’s silent. She’s listening, and she’s so so sad for you. She knows it’s only getting worse because you haven’t even talked about the changing room incident yet.
“Nobody came. I went to bed at 1am after clearing everything away. The food sat in the fridge and I had to throw it away. I did something stupid that night. I wish I didn’t because it became a habit. But I was so sad. I didn’t understand why nobody came, so I asked people. They lied to me, they said they were coming but they didn’t. And then, one Friday, after gym, they hid my gym bag. I spent a while looking, and when I finally found it and tried to leave, they had locked me in there. They said they would let me out when I stopped being a weirdo, because weirdos deserve nothing, they don’t deserve friends. They left, and I was there all weekend until the janitor found me early on the Monday. I never spoke to anyone again.”
The shame Arlecchino feels right now is palpable. She herself is crying now, silently as she stares at the floor. She yells at herself in her head at everything she could have done, but didn’t. Her eyes flick to your upper body, covered by your sweater. It’s not an unusual sight, she hasn’t seen you without a sweater since your 15th birthday. Listening to your shuddering breaths, your sobs, it pains her. So much so that her voice sounds like a yell.
“Why the fuck didn’t you say anything to me? To anyone?”
“Don’t you dare talk to me like that.”
Seeing how broken you are inside, seeing the loneliness that secretly overwhelms you, she wants to punch herself. She wants to apologise, she just.. doesn’t know how. She’s not one to apologise, she never has been. She’s hot headed, cold blooded, but you soften her in a way she’s never felt.
“I’m really sorry I never reached out to you. I’m sorry I called you weird. Really, I am. And I should have never treated you the way I did.”
Her words only make you sob harder. You sob into your sleeve, the fabric muffling your almost wails, your gasping breaths. She feels like her lungs are constricting, she feels like she can’t breathe as she watches you break down into the comfort of your sweater, which is only a painful reminder that you truly have nobody but yourself. She begins wondering how many times you’ve cried like this. How many times you’ve turned to that awful habit. And the thought of that, sitting alone in your room as you cry, breaks her too. She cries into her hands.
“I am sorry. I feel horrible, I’m so ashamed of the way I just didn’t do anything. I could have done something, I should have done something. I pushed you away because I— I had just discovered I didn’t like.. god damn it. I’m a lesbian, and it was then I figured it out. Your fault.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It does to me. I tried to push it down, but every time I saw you it was a mean reminder that I wasn’t like everyone else. You’re such a sweet person, you don’t deserve what you got. You should have been a girl who everyone loved. Instead, you got.. you don’t deserve to be alone like you think. I lov-“
She stops. She takes a breath before she continues. It’s not the time, and she can’t use this situation to confess her infatuation with you. It was an explanation, but she can’t use it as an excuse. She feels so awkward, she hates apologising. She can’t recall a single time she’s apologised properly and meant it. Her hands fumble with her tears as she wipes them away, pushing through the awkwardness she feels.
“I like you. I want to be your friend, at least.”
You don’t reply for a bit as you try hard to calm down. Biting your lip the way you did the way she refused to be your friend, you sigh as your breath hitches.
“You won’t leave me alone until I agree, won’t you?”
“No.”
You sigh as you rub your temple, running your fingers through your hair.
“We can try. Don’t expect anything. We’re not best friends. We can try.”
Relief floods through Arlecchino, at least a bit. She was dreading her apology being rejected, causing more awkwardness. A single nod as she glances up around the room.
“Alright.”
You both sit in silence as you try to calm down. Your hands fumble with your sleeves as the tears dry on your face before her voice is heard again.
“You know you have a cobweb?”
“I know. I’m scared of spiders so I just let it live there.”
“Is it big?”
“No, but I still won’t touch it.”
Her eyes search the corners before she finally finds the little fellow, a small smile gracing her face. Her hands reach up, gently pushing the spider onto her hands. She gingerly approaches you, your eyes following her. You know the fear is irrational, but it’s always been a fear. The spider is almost cute, if it wasn’t for.. you don’t know.
“It’s fine. This species won’t hurt you at all. They look a bit scary but they’re actually not. People just don’t know how to hold them.”
You know she’s trying to distract you. It’s like she knows your thoughts, but she knows better than to speak about it.
“Is that why they run?”
“Mm.”
“How do you hold them, then?”
She looks up at you, as if for permission before she opens her hand and lets the spider crawl onto your sleeve. She figures that it not touching your skin is easier for the first time.
“Just don’t be harsh. Don’t hold them by their legs, let them roam.”
“It’s almost cute.”
“I know. I like the purple rock on your nightstand.”
You both watch the spider as it crawls around your arm, you’re slowly relaxing, still on edge, but.. better.
“It’s a geode. Amethyst.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Can I?”
“Yeah. It’s pretty.”
And for the first time in a long time, a real smile ghosts your face as you begin talking.
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suguann · 2 months
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PRETTIEST BABY—JJK MEN. * ˚ ✦
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✎. they can't help it, they're kind of obsessed with you. | wc. 2k+
tags. fem!reader, thigh riding, slight food play, unprotected sex, mating press, spit play, object insertion, oral sex, threesome, spit roasting, rough sex, degradation, praise kink, pet names [18+ only]
featuring. nanami, sukuna, choso, gojo & geto
an. dividers by @/hitobaby | masterlist
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↬ NANAMI
You don’t hear him when he walks in, too busy dancing around his kitchen to a song playing on the radio in that short sundress that always makes his pants feel tight. But at the sound of him setting his keys and briefcase down on the counter, you turn and give him a pretty little smile.
“Hey, I just put the kids down for a nap.” You pop a dollop of cream into your mouth from the bowl you’re holding. “How was work?” 
Nanami can’t think straight enough to answer, too busy staring at your cheeks, how they suck in around your finger, and the sound of your hum when the sugar hits your tongue. The sound has him thinking about you humming like that around his cock, or wondering if you’d tease the purpling head the way you’re licking your finger.
He shouldn’t be thinking it at all—not when the babysitter should be here any minute to watch the boys.
But he can’t help it. 
When you pull your finger out of your mouth, you have just enough time to squeak before his hand is palming the back of your head, and his lips come crashing down against yours.
He groans into your mouth, his hands carding down your sides before finding purchase at your hips to bunch in the skirt of your dress. You release the most adorable gasp when he picks you up, carrying you across the kitchen to sit in one of the dining chairs; his hold keeps you from falling off his lap as your legs drop from behind his back to around his thighs clumsily.  
Nanami’s hands slide up from the swell of your hips until they cup your breasts, his thumb circling a nipple reverently.
“Prettiest tits,” he mumbles to himself.
You moan louder than you should with the kids right down the hall, your fingers flexing around his shoulders. “Oh!”
“Shh, honey,” he smiles faintly, pressing kisses against your open, panting mouth. “Don’t want to wake the kids.”
His thumbs brush against your nipples through your dress, his hands spanning almost the entire width of your rib cage. You shiver from how the fabric of your bralette and dress rub against sensitive, pebbling skin, creating an electric pulse with every pass that travels down to where you’re aching and empty.
You bury your face in his neck, rolling your hips over the hardness in his neatly pressed dress pants.
“Do you think you cum for me like this, sweetheart?” His lips move along your jaw, a distraction that makes your head fuzzy. But you still hear him, and your thighs clench around him in anticipation—a delicious sort of ache tingling up your spine with a subtle thrust of his hips against yours.
“I—ah—don’t think—not like this.”
“I think you can,” he coos, nosing at your neck, pressing another kiss there. “Come on, be a good little wife and cum for me.”
Oh, god. You’re going to cum from this—maybe from the filth dripping from your husband’s tongue alone. 
Your thighs are slippery. You can feel it every time Nanami helps you roll your hips against him, and a sticky-hot heat swirls in your abdomen, moving all the way down to your curling toes. Your heart stutters in your chest to keep up with your rapid puffs of breath into his mouth. 
You’re going to…You’re really going to—
His fingers twist your nipple, and like a switch, your mouth falls open in a silent scream, and you’re shaking in his lap. Nanami helps you move against him to ease you through it, whispering tiny indiscernible praises through the fog of syrupy bliss.
“So good for me.” You hear a zipper coming undone as your head slowly clears. “You can be good for me a little longer, and try to give me another, okay?”
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↬ SUKUNA
He asks you to stay the night after he gets home late from a busy day at the gym—his clothes rumpled and hair sticking every which way. You get a little flustered at the thought of sleeping under the same roof as the stupidly attractive father to the kid you babysit, and you try to politely decline by saying, “I shouldn’t.”
“I can’t let you walk home in the dark,” he says, sounding just a tad tired as he heats up leftovers in the microwave. “Plus, Hana was disappointed when she found out you leave every night.”
“Really?” Hesitant, safe.
A little grin spreads across his face, making your breath stutter in your chest. “Yeah. Imagine how excited she’ll be when she finds you here in the morning.”
You bite your lip, already thinking about it. She is a sweet kid…
“If it’s…If it’s not too much trouble.”
“Cross my heart,” he tells you.
It’s surreal to think saying yes leads to him fucking you into his super soft king-sized mattress an hour later—you and Sukuna were never supposed to be a sweet mix of limbs and hot pants into each other’s mouths, and yet, here you are. If you’d known this would happen from wearing his clothes, you would have done it months ago.
He has two thick fingers pressed against your tongue to muffle your moans, the way you slightly gag around them sounding so much louder in your ears than the noises he’s trying to keep quiet. Your cunt feels swollen and sensitive just from him notching the head of his cock inside, only aided by the rough swipe of his thumb against your clit.
It’s already the most you’ve ever let any man do—no condom, nothing but slick skin—reasonable, responsible words turning to smoke with another inch inside you. 
“Look at you,” he groans, a large hand covering the small impression of his dick pressing up against your belly. “So fucking tiny, I hardly fit.” 
But he does fit, slipping in the last half inch, his thighs touching the back of yours, his fingers sliding a little deeper down your throat. The sudden need to get air into your lungs distracts you from the uncomfortable stretch between your thighs.
“Fuck, baby. Took me—ah—took me like a champ.” His breathing is labored, his voice rough. “How about a little more, okay?”
All you can do is nod, teary-eyed, whimpering. 
When his fingers leave your mouth to palm the back of your thighs, you can’t control the too-loud whine that escapes your raw throat—high-pitched and surely reaching beyond his bedroom door. His shoulders press your legs further into your chest, making you feel smaller than you already are underneath his broad shoulders, and he brings his hand back up to your mouth to cover the moans you can’t hold in.
“Be quiet—so fucking tight, needed this—and let me fuck this toy cunt.”
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↬ CHOSO
“Come on, baby, you can do it,” you tell the little boy, trying to make his way from the back steps to you sitting in the grass.
Choso watches from the porch, sucking on a lollipop as you play in the yard with his son. You hadn’t expected him to come home for a few more hours, and it’s hard not to look over at him, your cheeks hot from the amount of attention on you. 
Neither of you spends much time together outside of a few pleasantries before and after work, asking about each other's day, him asking if Yuji was good for you—he always is—before you go home.
Then, one drunken night, you’d ruined everything by accidentally sending a nude to him (your boss, no less). Now, he hardly says a word to you; no, you leave in a rush—hair in your face, coat hanging off an arm—before he can open his mouth.
But Choso coming home right around Yuji’s naptime (he’s never home this early) is about to change that.
“So,” you start to say after setting the baby monitor down and curling up on the couch, “have you gone to that new Thai place down the street?”
“It’s down the street. Of course, I have.” He crosses the room, almost looking like a predator with the way he stalks towards you.
“Oh—”
In a matter of seconds, Choso easily has you pinned underneath him like a butterfly, the skirt of your dress pooling up around your waist. Your head spins from the proximity, chest heaving when he moves down, down—-
He lays on his stomach between your legs, carefully wrenching your soaked panties to the side to expose your cunt. Drenched and vulnerable on his couch, your thighs tremble as he parts your folds with his thumbs to reveal the wet, clenching part of you that’s suddenly desperate for his touch.
“You’re messy down here,” he hums, popping his sucker out of his mouth to spit against your folds. “Drippy.”
The melted red sugary confection drips from his mouth onto your clit before ducking his head to swipe his tongue through your slit, slurping up the mess he made.
“Choso—oh!”
Your hands fly to his hair, messing up the bun he has it in, and he groans into your cunt. It makes the muscles in your stomach jump, and you tip your head back against the arm of the couch. The noises he pulls from your throat are embarrassing, whimpers and moans that make you sound as desperate as you feel.
“Knew you’d taste sweet ever since you sent that picture of this pretty pussy.”
Another cry flies from your lips when he pushes the sucker inside you, and one of your hands comes up to cover your mouth, trying not to wake the baby—you don’t want this to end before it’s even really started.
“You look so cute spread out like this, letting me play with you like you’re mine.”
Then he suctions his soft lips over your clit, and your vision goes white.
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↬ GOJO & GETO
You hadn't meant to interrupt your husband while he was in a meeting with Gojo. But it’d been important at the time—a reminder of an upcoming appointment that he forgot to mark on the calendar. Your daughter needed it for school. 
Now you’re wondering if it could have waited—and at the same time, you’re glad you didn’t.
"Look at you, taking cock like a bitch in heat," Geto sneers down at you where you're sprawled out against the expensive leather couch in his office, mean fingers roughly tweaking your sensitive nipples raw through your sheer bra. "Couldn't wait for me to come home, huh?”
You whine around Gojo’s cock that’s currently stealing the air from your chest, his grip tight in your hair to keep you from pulling away. 
“Fuck,” he mumbles, a grin on his lips. “Didn’t think your wife would be a good little cocksucker?”
You’re tacky-wet and sticky between your legs, staining Geto’s expensive pants, creating a large dark spot on the fabric below where his hips kiss the back of yours with every harsh thrust into you.
A distressed mewl leaves your lips when he reaches down to thumb at your clit. "Please," your voice cracks, garbled consonants, and vowels barely making sense on your tongue—overstimulated tears leaking past your hairline and onto the cushion under you.
“Shit, baby—” Gojo groans, practically fucking your face—a stark contrast from how Geto steadily presses in you. It makes you dizzy. “You keep whining like that, and you’re going to make me cum.”
Sweaty strands of hair cling to your temples as you writh underneath the two imposing men determined to ruin you. You feel like an exposed nerve—a tender bruise before it blooms—desperately chasing a release just out of your reach because Geto refuses to give it to you.
You don't stop yourself from bringing your fingers down to where he sinks into your slippery heat, hoping he'd just give in and fuck you how you want.
He scoffs but doesn't push your hand away. "Did I say you could touch my cock?"
You try moaning a response, only to have Gojo’s hips stutter into your mouth, a guttural sound releasing from his throat.
"But you're a slut for my cock, aren't you? Can't keep your—fuck—hands off it." You don't even answer, can't when the feeling of sticky ropes of cum paint your throat, making all the words stick to the back of your tongue—your mouth quivering as you remember to inhale through your nose.
Geto’s resolve slowly crumbles when you clench around his cock, his hips needily pressing into yours with a grunt. "Shit, princess, just like that. My messy, drooling slut."
Just when Gojo slips from your mouth, Geto starts pounding into you, making you squeal hoarsely and arch up into his firm chest. "Aah, yes! F-feels good!"
He brings the wide pad of his thumb up to your hot cheeks and wipes away the fresh set of tears collecting along your lash line. "C'mon, baby. Stop your crying and cum. Milk my cock with this greedy pussy of yours."
6K notes · View notes
kooktrash · 4 months
Text
million dollar darling | jeon jungkook
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summary: jeon jungkook is well aware of how privileged he is to have been born into the life he was given. it was glamorous and influential yet close-knit and suffocating, something he thought he wanted to escape from. a trip back home to the circle of wealth and snottiness for his best friend’s million dollar wedding has reminded him of all the reasons why he wanted to leave in the first place… and all the reasons he should stay — the main one being you, the spoiled rich girl he knew was utterly perfect for him.
➣ genre/au: jungkook x model!reader [she/her, female anatomy], old money au, smut, plot [soft on the e2l/f2l tropes]
[loosely inspired by ‘crazy rich asians’ movie/book by kevin kwan]
➣19.7k words
warnings: heavy plot. smut. model oc. jk is a wander but he’s really just a rich guy in disguise. oc and jk got heavy tension but good banter. oc is kinda snotty but not really? namjoon x oc [not y/n]. rich, old money snotty bts. sex on a yacht. teasing. foreplay. oral [f and m receiving]. jk goes to town on oc. cunnilingus. unprotected. missionary. oc on top. jk is tatted up in a polo. heavy makeout. breast play. fingering. dirty talk. oc goes down on jk while he’s on the phone with hobi 😭. jk’s villain arc as he slowly turns back into a cocky rich boy hehe. jk gets sex flashbacks at dolce and gabbana
“Come on, it’s my wedding and I want you as my best man. Do it for your best friend.”
The sky had been clear when he landed, a bright blue cloudless sky that resembled the clarity of the sea he had left behind. The air already seemed stiffer and the bleakness of the airport brought his mood down almost immediately.
The only thing to make him somewhat happy to be home was the sight of the person in front of him, a huge grin on his face as he saw him. The man was dressed casual in a pair of sweats and a hoodie but the small details of his watch matched with the luxury car parked outside brought unwelcome attention to Jungkook when people stared.
“I was worried you bailed last minute,” Namjoon said with a grin as he pulled him into a hug, “It’s good to see you.”
“I wouldn’t,” Jungkook reached into the pocket of his oversized black hoodie and slid his face mask off, taking a cigarette and lighting it once they were outside the airport, “It’s been too long without seeing your beautiful face.”
“Yeah, don’t tell Yeonwoo, but I’d marry you if you weren’t such a man,” Namjoon joked, playfully flirting which Jungkook just laughed off.
“Too bad you’re not my type,” Jungkook patted his shoulder apologetically, “Besides, where is the bride?”
“Getting her hair done for tonight,” Namjoon said as they got into a Bentley Mulssane, “Also, please drive, I’m scared.”
“Hyung,” Jungkook scoffed, taking the keys anyway, “If you hate driving so much why buy an expensive car?”
“Yeonwoo liked the color,” Namjoon said as he got in the passenger’s seat of his own car, “Are you staying with your parents? I could still find you an apartment.”
“For a week? Don’t bother, I’m staying at a hotel,” Jungkook said, turning the engine on and driving out.
Namjoon sighed, “So you really are leaving again?”
“Was there ever a doubt I was?” Jungkook asked in surprise.
“Duh, kid. We miss you, you rarely call, you never visit, you barely respond and we know nothing that goes on with you,” Namjoon said, “I thought once you got your fill of life experiences, you’d come back.”
Jungkook didn’t say anything at that, sniffling uncomfortably as he tried switching the subject, “So, who’s my partner?”
This time Namjoon was the one to freeze up, staring out the window with sunglasses on and his jaw locked. With a shy smile, he asked, “Are you gonna bring a date?”
His brows furrowed as he looked at his friend, “Who’s the Maid of Honor?”
Namjoon released a nervous laugh, “Y/n L/n.”
The silence in the car was loud and from the way Jungkook’s jaw tensed and his eyes narrowed, it was easy to see he wasn’t happy about that. You? You were the Maid of Honor and his partner down the aisle?
“You know, her and Yeonwoo are close and Yeonwoo’s always thinking about who looks the best next to her on camera and obviously she’s gonna choose the runway model but listen,” Namjoon could barely catch a breath, “Y/n’s matured more now and she’s going to be there tonight so please be on your best behavior.”
“Tonight? What’s tonight?” Jungkook’s tone was sharper now and Namjoon huffed in annoyance.
“The rehearsal dinner on the pier, it was all in the catalog I sent you,” Namjoon said, “It’s for press. Our parents want to get it on Forbes and Vogue, they want to make it the Wedding of the Year.”
They both laughed at that and Jungkook sighed, “So there’s gonna be cameras?”
“Yeah but don’t worry they won’t focus on you,” Namjoon said with a smirk, “The attention’s going on me.”
When Jungkook pulled up to the hotel he would be staying at for the week, Namjoon left him to settle in with a promise that he would make it tonight so he had no choice not to. A letter from a close friend was sitting on the coffee table and he set his things down to get it.
It was a big envelope with a card and a few things rattling inside that made him curious. Jungkook turned the envelope down so the contents would fall onto his palm and a roll of condoms slipped out.
‘Welcome home buddy, enjoy the penthouse and may all your frustrations come undone — Jung Hoseok.’
The note itself made him scoff in disbelief. His womanizing friend making jokes before they’ve actually reunited. He left the things on the table and left to shower, doing what he could to make himself look presentable for tonight.
Tonight was the beginning of a soon-to-be hectic week of photoshoots, brunches, parties and finally the wedding. You were one of the ones front and center, never taking the limelight from the bride but carrying your own sense of grace that had people turning heads when you walked into a room—or in this case riverwalk.
You vowed to appear your best tonight and opted for a silk, powder blue Prada dress paired with Swarovski crystals on your neck. You did your part as Maid of Honor, directing all attention to your friend, polite smile and gentle assurance when needed in front of a crowd. Yeonwoo found it comical how well you fit into character when you need to.
“The perfect friend,” Yeonwoo joked as you dabbed smeared lip gloss from her lips, “What would I do without you?”
“Oh, I hope you never have to find out,” You said in a gentle voice that feigned innocence and longing. Yeonwoo laughed as she was called toward other people and you let her go as you found the nearest server holding a glass of champagne. You took a glass, turning toward the railing overlooking the shore, tipping your glass back and chugging as much of the drink as possible.
“So this is where the Maid of Honor will be spending her night?” A familiar deep voice spoke up from behind you and a mischievous smile grew on your face. You set the glass down, straightened your posture and turned to him with a soft gaze.
“Now you know that’s not fair, Joon, I’ve been with Yeonwoo most of the night,” you told him, already motioning for another server to give you a glass, completely ignoring the man standing beside him.
“I believe you, darling, now why don’t you come say hi to the Best Man,” Namjoon pushed Jungkook forward who just glared at him in response, “You remember Jeon Jungkook, right?”
“It’s been two years, not ten,” You said, finally looking at Jungkook with a glimmer of annoyance in your eyes, matched by his stare of unamusement.
“Alright well why don’t you two get reacquainted while I search for the gorgeous love of my life,” Namjoon said, making his escape as quick as possible.
“You counted?” Jungkook asked, taking just one step toward you, trying to stop his eyes from trailing down your figure.
“Of course,” You said sarcastically, “I’ve just missed you so.”
He couldn’t stop the roll of his eyes as he turned to the water, “You knew we were partners?”
“Obviously, I know everything,” you said with a scoff that had his tongue pressing against his cheek, clearly annoyed, “Like how you’re staying at one of the Jung’s hotels instead of home. How you plan on leaving still, where you landed, how long you’ve been her—“
“So you’re stalking me?” Jungkook asked, only half joking.
“Don’t you wish,” you laughed, “You’re all over the news.”
His smile dropped. When he had nothing to say, you grew bored and left him behind, making sure to lightly graze your fingers against his arm as you said, “And just remember, you’re the one who despises me, not the other way around.”
With that, you left without looking back and he was left watching the sway of your hips when you walked away.
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Money rules the world, even when people want to say it doesn’t. The people who have it are living the dream and the ones who don’t, want the dream. It doesn’t even have to be the luxurious wonders of the world, it could be as little as financial stability or surviving. At the end of the day, it was a Rich Man’s world and this group of individuals were born lucky.
First, the groom: Kim Namjoon. The man with it all, the money, the family, the education, son of millionaires with three hospitals in their name and a line of pharmacies all across the globe.
The bride: soon-to-be, Kim Yeonwoo. The heiress to half a dozen airlines, an airport funded by her family for decades and a beautiful island in her name off the coast.
Kim Seokjin, practically a prince, generations worth of politicians, the highest education and a trust fund worth millions. He was the one you’ll see with the president or in Australia, golfing with men in charge.
Jung Hoseok, the hotel heir to a chain of ten thousand hotels across the globe. He was the one you’ll most likely catch partying in Venice with a princess whose name he couldn’t actually remember—or maybe giving a waitress the night of her life.
Min Yoongi, eldest son of an elite banking firm formed a hundred years ago. He was private about his life, similar to Jungkook, he only came out when he was summoned by one of the others.
Kim Taehyung was wild as Hoseok but more quiet about it. He’ll soon be heir of the billion dollar empire his family built in the Art world of museums and curations and performing arts.
Now, Jungkook’s story was a bit different from the others. His family worked in land development, most of the country being built on the backs of the Jeon’s who brought cities to rural areas and avoided the public’s eye.
They had the kind of old money that everyone knew, even when they tried to stay out of the news.
It was the kind of old money, people could never stop talking about and you understood what that meant most.
There was a mystery to the fortune of your family, it was old money, so old nobody knew where it came from. Some say oil, some claim aristocrats but it was too far back, and too private for any to know. All the public knew were the generous and loving philanthropists and their perfect daughter, the Nation’s Sweetheart, you.
You really were loved by all, the camera, the press, everyone. They all saw the kind, innocent girl in the public’s eye but only a few saw the snotty, spoiled and downright disrespectful side of you that was real.
Where Jungkook craved independence and isolation from his family name, you soaked in it. The attention. The money. The dependence, you were the complete opposite of him and it drew him insane.
One might ask why he was around you if he really did despise you, but for a long time it wasn’t up to him. The group didn’t all become friends one magical night when you compared your family’s net worth.
No, this bond had grown between galas, private academies, horse riding lessons at the country club and family businesses. It was a very elite, classist society where only the ultra rich could really only trust in each other and keep a country afloat off of it.
Do you think Namjoon would have been allowed to marry Yeonwoo if her parents weren’t as rich as they were?
Do you think Seokjin would have married his wife that he met at Oxford if her family hadn’t been international shipping magnates?
It was like a spider web, they were all connected in some way, all controlled and that’s what Jungkook hated.
He loved his friends, truly, but he hated the control. Not a single one of them had real freedom and every little thing they did came with a price and he couldn’t live that way anymore. He understood his own privilege and how lucky he was to grow up in such a way but he knew there was more to life than just that. When he left home for the first time, he didn’t expect to feel so free. It was like a sense of independence he’s not sure any of his friends have felt and now that he’s back he’s reminded once again of how suffocating it all is.
There had to be at least a hundred guests in attendance tonight and he couldn’t find a moment of silence. The suit he wore felt uncomfortable and he hated the way it seemed to confine him, make him more rigid and stiff.
“Please Jungkook, I was only being funny. Did it bother you that much?” Hoseok asked with a tinge of mischief in his voice.
“No,” Jungkook shrugged as he looked around the banquet hall, “I just found it unnecessary.”
“Really? I would’ve assumed the opposite considering you’ll be spending a lot of time with Y/n this week,” Taehyung said with a shrug as the three of them stood off to the side, talking amongst themselves as the guests of the charity banquet focused on your parents who stood on stage making some speech about the importance of giving.
As if on cue, the spotlight turned toward you where you smiled politely and acted shyly for the cameras.
A scoff left his lips as he pulled his gaze away from you, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Hoseok chuckled, “Oh come on man, everyone knows you have a thing for her—you’re really bad at hiding it.”
With a roll of his eyes, Jungkook stepped away from his friends, “You guys don’t know anything.”
He didn’t have a thing for you.
Sure, you’ve known each other for a long time but that means nothing. He’s known them all for a long time and if anything he's made his distaste toward you pretty evident. When you were younger it was only because you were so spoiled and the attention had to always be on you. He hated watching everyone fall for your sweetness and do whatever you asked of them. He almost fell for it himself a couple times but then he would see the way you judged or looked down on people and he just despised you more.
There’s nothing about you that attracts him aside from your looks…
Tonight you were dressed more modestly in a Chanel sweater and skirt set that looked like you would soon be relaxing at the country club. You wore a black headband with a bow on it and satin gloves, looking as polite as ever while you talked to anyone who approached you.
You were the perfect, doting daughter and anyone with eyes could see that.
“So how mad are you?” Yeonwoo asked once you had settled back in your chair next to her and Namjoon. Even Namjoon seemed to listen in on the question, waiting to hear what you would say.
“What do I have to be mad at?” You asked with a tight smile as you reached toward her to fix a slight smudge on her cheek, “ Jungkook?”
“Well, we know you have some sort of disliking toward each other but…” Yeonwoo bit her lip nervously, “Joonie and Jungkook are really close.”
“We know you two don’t like each other but you should have expected this, right?” Namjoon chuckled nervously, “You’re both our best friends and…”
“Am I saying anything?” You asked.
They shared a look with each other, “I guess not.”
You smiled, “Okay, then let’s just make sure everything runs smoothly this week.”
You did in fact feel a type of way about Jeon Jungkook but you weren’t going to admit that right now surrounded by so many people always lingering around trying to listen. You’ve learned to be very careful about how you act in public and there’s no way your friends will get you to act out by asking about him.
Jungkook was not someone you wished to exhort so much energy on. He wasn’t worth anything to you and despite how many years you’ve known him, you’ve never wished to get to know him. You don’t care where he goes when he’s not home or who he talks to, nor what he does. He doesn’t cross your mind at all through your normal day to day and you surely weren’t going to let him in this week. All he has going for him is his money and his looks.
Ever since you learned he would be the Best Man you thought about what that would mean and accepted that he would be the one to walk with you down the aisle. Despite not being happy about it, you managed to hide your resentment quite well.
You know how he feels about you and over time that’s made you develop a disliking toward him which you find only fair. He might dislike you for being spoiled but you dislike him for being so entitled.
For some reason, he thinks distancing himself from this life means he’s better than everyone else and you hate that. He thinks that by moving away and making his own money suddenly makes him different than the rest of you but that’s not true. He just wants to act like he’s self made so he can feel superior to all of you trust fund babies and that is what annoyed you.
After some time third wheeling, you were getting tired and slightly annoyed watching the couple act lovey dovey. You hated couples, they grossed you out even if they were your best friends.
“Mind if I keep you company? You look like you need it.”
With a furrow in your brows, you turned to face the person who felt the need to whisper in your ear and get close to you without permission. A smile spread across your lips at the man standing directly behind you, his arm draping over your front and hugging you.
“Hello, darling, I’ve missed you,” Jimin’s voice was soft yet sultry and you gave each other kisses on the cheek in greeting as he moved to the empty seat beside you.
“I didn’t realize you were back,” You said to him, “How was Paris?”
He released a sigh, “Oh the usual, shopping… a few events here and there.”
“Mhm, and when’d you get back?” You asked, now intrigued by his presence.
“Just last night. I was planning on visiting you earlier but things came up,” Jimin said, adjusting the Swiss watch on his wrist, admiring the shine, “What has happened since I was gone?”
“Oh God, he’s back,” Hoseok rolled his eyes from across the room, “I ran into him in Marseille the other day and the guy wanted to act like he didn’t know me.”
“He’s been insufferable since Uni,” Taehyung muttered under his breath, “I don’t understand why Y/n puts up with him.”
“Who?” Jungkook asked, only half curious. He hadn’t been paying attention until he heard your name and his reason for hearing it was purely coincidental.
“Park Jimin,” Hoseok clarified, making Jungkook look closer at the man who sat very close to you, making you smile and touch his arms when you spoke.
“Am I supposed to know who that is?” Jungkook seemed indifferent as he looked down at his glass of champagne, trying to resist the urge to look back at you.
“Not at all,” Taehyung said, “He’s just some guy we went to Uni with here. I don’t know how he met Y/n though, probably at some shitty party but he’s nobody that matters.”
Well… Park Jimin was the son of starlets. His great grandmother, his grandmother was an actress, his mother was an actress and he’s been in a few independent films here and there. He spends most of his time sailing on yachts or speaking of the Cannes Film Festival. He’s insanely rich, but he’s still not rich enough despite his accumulated generational wealth.
Unlike Jungkook’s wealth which held actual value especially in real estate, Jimin’s just didn’t compare to his or any of his friends for that matter. So why did you seem captivated by him?
He is aware he shouldn’t think this way, it’s only him reverting back to his old self which was all arrogance and entitlement. He shouldn’t think about how much wealthier he was compared to Jimin.
Unfortunately, Jungkook couldn’t seem to drag his gaze away from the pair as he tipped his champagne glass back, liquid pouring down his throat.
“Do you think she’ll take him to the wedding? I doubt Namjoon or Yeonwoo would ever invite him themselves,” Hoseok said and the three seemed like a group of gossips, the way they huddled around each other.
In Jungkook’s defense, he was barely listening to his friends. He was too busy watching the interaction happening not far from where he stood, eyes narrowed trying to understand what was happening.
First, he didn’t like you. He found you unbearable and you were the epitome of everything he hated about the High Society he had been raised in.
Second, he was only looking because you were next to his best friends. Maybe he wanted to see how in love Namjoon and Yeonwoo were but he couldn’t see because of you and your… friend.
Third, he wanted to know how you managed to stand out in your outfit despite the room being filled with people in extravagant clothes.
“I’m not sure, actually, rumors say she might,” Taehyung said and Jungkook couldn’t help but look over.
“What?”
“We’re just wondering if the Maid of Honor would bring her little boy toy to the wedding,” Hoseok said, looking at Jungkook as his jaw tensed, “What do you think?”
“I don’t care if Y/n brings anyone, we’re just dates for the pictures and ceremony,” Jungkook said with a hint of annoyance in his voice.
“So are you going to take a date too then?” Taehyung asked.
“Maybe,” Jungkook said as a server came around holding a tray of champagne glasses and he switched his empty one out for a full one. He didn’t bother to look back at his friends as he began walking away, “I’ll be back.”
“It’s so hard for him to act like he doesn’t care.”
“Kook! Come here, man,” Namjoon said with a wide grin as he saw his best friend walking by them. Jungkook didn’t bother glancing down at you as he greeted his friend.
“Kooky, I haven’t seen you all night,” Yeonwoo stood up to hug him, “Please don’t seduce my future husband, everyone has already RSVP’d.”
“Oh Yeonie,” Jungkook softly caressed her cheek, tipping her chin up to look at him, “If I wanted him, I would have had him by now.”
“Joon!” Yeonwoo whined clinging to Namjoon who just winked at Jungkook, further amplifying his fiancé’s feigned sobs. Jungkook smiled watching her squirm and without him meaning to, he let his gaze fall toward you.
“Y/n.”
You met his intense stare with your own and you could hear Jimin say he was going to get a drink but you didn’t look at him. You looked down at what Jungkook was wearing—a plain black Prada suit, how boring. “Jungkook.”
“Is that who you’re bringing to the wedding?” Jungkook asked, looking back at the infamous Park Jimin who stood with Taehyung and Hoseok, all three of them pretending to enjoy each other’s company.
“Maybe, we do get along very well,” you said with a sly smile as you stood up, not yet reaching Jungkook’s height but he didn’t intimidate you, “Is that a problem?
“No,” Jungkook said, voice low and deep, “I was just curious.”
“And why were you curious?” You asked, a mocking tone in your voice that he didn’t like, “Do tell me, how often are you curious about what I do?”
A scoff left his lips as he looked away from you first, “It was just a question, don’t get ahead of yourself and think you matter to me more than you do.”
An evident pout appeared on your lips and for a second his expression changed with worry but the moment was fleeting. You just laughed [giggled, actually] and with a gentle touch to his arm, said, “No need to lie to yourself.”
His eyes narrowed, anger bubbling up inside him when he heard a shutter of cameras going off, flash in his face and without thinking, he took your hand in his and left.
“If you plan on kidnapping me, it won’t work,” You said teasingly as you left to some dark corner behind large pillars.
“I’m not going to put up with a week of your games,” Jungkook said as he let go of your hand, missing the way your eyes fell to the black ink on his knuckles—something you had never noticed before, not even on the yacht when it was dark out.
“Then stop playing into them,” you said with a laugh, “If I drive you crazy, why bother talking to me at all? I think we’re both very capable of ignoring each other enough to not have to say a single word.”
“What I mean is, you can put on this act of yours for the cameras but don’t drag me into it,” Jungkook told you, ignoring the idea you had thrown out there. He was referring to your strange smiles and touches you give him when in the public.
“I’m not dragging you into anything,” You rolled your eyes, “And you seem to forget all eyes have been on you since you got back—heir to the Jeon Corporation. What do you think people will say when they find out you dragged me out here all alone? The Big, Bad & Rebellious Jeon Jungkook and The Nation’s Sweetheart, me.”
His eyes shut with a hint of anger that he tried to subdue, “Sweetheart?”
“That’s what I said,” you smiled sweetly to prove your point making him scoff.
“You’re not a sweetheart, you’re a spoiled brat,” Jungkook said, looking down at you in your pretty clothes with your pretty jewelry and your pretty face.
“Nice of you to finally notice,” you said bitterly and with a roll of your eyes, you pushed into his shoulder on purpose as you walked past him, “But we’re all the same, aren’t we? Just some of us like to act all high and mighty because you leave home craving independence, ignoring your privilege to seem like better people.”
Jungkook felt the jab of your words but he let you walk past him without a rebuttal.
With a sense of frustration, he ran his fingers through his hair, trying to collect himself to rejoin High Society and finish the night with his head held high.
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When Jungkook left his hotel the day of the Bachelor Party, he hadn’t been sure what to expect. Hoseok had done most of the planning for it since he had been abroad and when it comes to Hobi, you never know what to expect. It was almost two days of festivities and it was only toward the end that everyone would separate into their respective groups. That meant that once again he was forced into the same place as you.
The yacht sailed toward the private island the events would be at and as big as it was, he couldn’t escape you. There were the main group of friends that were always together and a few added guests, mostly Yeonwoo’s friends. Hoseok had already been hyping up the party tonight more than anything and everytime Namjoon would grow more worried. He didn’t need a big party thrown by his notorious womanizing friend.
“So what do the girls have planned?” Jungkook asked Namjoon as they sat at a table, looking at everyone aboard. Some people wore little clothing, others casual clothes, you wore something in between. It was casual yet attractive.
“ I don’t know, something probably calmer than what Hobi’s got for us,” Namjoon said but his friend had tuned him out after the first part, “Y/n planned it all and leant us the Yacht for the guests.”
“The yacht?” Jungkook asked, looking around at the luxury super yacht.
“14.7 million dollar yacht for Y/n’s birthday last year,” Namjoon explained to Jungkook, “She wanted a Booze Cruise.”
Jungkook couldn’t help but scoff, “So Y/n got a yacht?”
“It comes in handy, doesn’t it?” A soft voice spoke from behind him and his breath hitched. You looked over to Namjoon, “Yeonie is looking for you.”
“The wife calls,” Namjoon said with a cheesy smile as he left you two behind.
“So, are you ready to go party with Hobi tonight?” You asked with a laugh, “I heard he’s got some former Miss Universe models coming in.”
“Oh, fun,” Jungkook said, slightly sarcastic.
“Kook, you’re not old enough to not like partying with models,” You teased making him look over at you. For a moment he wondered if what you said had a double meaning considering you were a model but he didn’t want to speak up about it.
“I’m sorry, I’m not a party animal,” Jungkook said truthfully, only a hint of joking as he looked around at the packed floor, “I think even this is too much.”
“Wow, how could you be a former Socialite if you don’t like partying?” You asked, “Is it all that time in the jungle or desert you spent alone that changed you?”
Jungkook could hear the sarcasm in your tone but he knew it wasn’t in an offensive way. He had backpacked to a small village in Indonesia for a few weeks before leaving to Nevada or Dubai—and he hated that you knew it all. He enjoyed traveling alone and experiencing things alone; he doesn’t need parties with too loud of music or too many drunks. He’s like Namjoon, they want to celebrate with their small group of friends rather than a party full of strangers who don’t even know what the occasion is.
“It might’ve,” Jungkook said, clearing his throat and checked the time.
You didn’t say much else after that and he got the impression that you grew bored talking to him. He looked at you still waiting to see if you would say something else but instead, you just looked off into the distance, not bothering to hide the sudden boredom you must have felt.
He’s sure he could have found something else to say to you but it was no use when he could see you beginning to slip away when you looked down at your cellphone with a bright smile. You didn’t utter out a goodbye as you left him behind to answer your phone, “Chimmy, I’ve missed you. How’s Morocco?”
“Warm,” Jimin said, “I’ve just finished a shoot and I believe I’ll be back tomorrow.”
“Oh I won’t be home, remember?” You said as the final thing Jungkook was able to hear from you before you walked away.
Jungkook couldn’t help but look after you, thinking about who might’ve called you and how things were handled and he had to be honest, he was curious. He wasn’t attracted to you but he found you attractive… He thought you were charming and charismatic but not enough for him to want you, maybe…
The two of you just seem so different. He’s seen as the Black Sheep of the group, not because he’s not wealthy or attractive but because his past decisions have apparently been awful ones.
He was never one for parties so he wasn’t wild and defiant. He did make a declaration to leave all the money behind and pursue his dreams—something rich people were not allowed to do. Especially not if you were next in line to inherit it all like Jungkook was.
You are more free than he is and yet you like being in your bubble. You like the glamor and the responsibilities because unlike him, you know how to play both sides. Do your parents care that you’re out wasted at European raves or sailing on your yacht with a foreign prince? No, why? Because you know how to act like the innocent, perfect princess you’re supposed to be.
Jungkook can’t pretend that well. He can’t hide his tattoos or piercings or signs of nonconformity.
So, yes, he finds you attractive but he can’t let himself fall for you when he thinks you’re too different from each other. It just doesn’t stop his brain from thinking about you though.
“Have you seen Y/n?” Jungkook asked Taehyung who had been sandwiched between two women he couldn’t name.
Taehyung, evidently drunk, shook his head no, “Are you ready to confess your undying love for her?”
Jungkook rolled his eyes, scoffing as he said, “Fuck off.”
All Taehyung did was laugh, making the girls he had his arms around laugh too and Jungkook left feeling annoyed. He was just curious to know where you were, that’s all. Namjoon and Yeonwoo are busy making their rounds, greeting and thanking everyone on the boat and his other friends were off doing their own things. He’s already spent too much time sulking by the railing, staring down at the dark blue water that he can’t take it anymore. He doesn’t want to drink to the point that he’s drunk so really, his last hope is you.
“Have you seen Y/n?” Jungkook asked as he went to the rooftop where Hoseok was sitting in a hot tub full of strangers. Hoseok looked like such an asshole [something Jungkook had permission to say] with his designer sunglasses and Vacheron Constantin watch, just barely above the water surface.
Hoseok barely glanced his way as he said, “I don’t know, check downstairs.”
That was all Jungkook needed to know before he was heading down to find you. It took a while of asking any person he passed by, where you might be and through all this, he couldn’t remember why he was looking for you in the first place.
He had no idea where he was going, he just found himself walking down what felt like endless corridors of rooms, following the directions of whatever housekeeper he could find. The boat really was big, and he couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that this was a simple birthday present.
“Now, who do we have here?” You looked down the empty hallway toward the man in front of you. It pained you to see just how attractive Jeon Jungkook really was.
You have to admit, he really knows how to dress for occasions. The rare times he’s photographed in some news article, he’s dressed casually, clearly trying to hide from the public eye but now that he’s back it seems his fashion has picked up. He wore a striped black flannel Dolce & Gabbana shirt tucked into cream colored slacks, and matching velvet black slippers from their newest collection.
“I’m just… wandering,” Jungkook cleared his throat, whatever excuse he had made up earlier, completely out of mind, “What happened to your dress?”
A large red stain adorned the front of your pink dress from the chest down your torso. You looked down at the stain with a roll of your eyes, “Some stupid bitch worker. She’s off the boat tomorrow.”
Jungkook widened his eyes, feeling you brush past him and down the hall, “So you’re firing someone for spilling a drink?”
“Um, this is Valento? Do you know how hard it is to get rid of a stain like this?” You asked with a slight scoff as you went to the door straight at the end, pushing your key card in to open it, “It took the dry cleaners ages last time.”
“I didn’t take you as an Outfit Repeater to be worrying about things like that,” he stopped at the door, already looking around at what was evidently the master cabin. The water out the windows was a dark, midnight blue and it reflected into the room of silver and gray. It had a walk-in closet, and king sized bed with a view of the open water and a private deck. He didn’t dare go in and put himself in personal quarters with you.
You gasped, stopping your movements of rummaging through your closet to say, “I am an environmentalist.”
He couldn’t tell if you were being serious or not and he had to fight back a grin at how un-woke you sounded considering you were ruining the planet with a private yacht of this size.
You pulled out an off-white dress, a Jaquemus piece, ‘La Robe Artichaut’, “Ugh, after this week, I am firing a lot of people.”
“What happened this time?” Jungkook asked, leaning against the doorframe watching you, waiting for you to kick him out but you just went toward the windows overlooking the dark blue ocean. As much as you claimed to not get along, you talked like old friends.
You reached your hands toward your back, attempting to undo the back of your dress on your own, “I told my assistant not to pack anything close to white and she packs this dress? I swear people can’t do anything right.”
“If people ask just say you’re supposed to match me,” Jungkook said referring to his slacks, “Yeonie won’t be mad her Maid of Honor is wearing off-white.”
“I guess,” you sighed, letting go of your dress and not bothering to look back at him as you said, “Undo the back.”
Jungkook stood silently at the door, staring at you with dark eyes. The fabric of your dress was thin and soft to the touch—he could just tell with the way your figure had so effortlessly shaped the dress. It is a real pity you had to change out of it, he’ll admit that, but now he’s been asked—no, demanded—to help you to take it off.
He has no idea why you think you could just boss him around but this seems to have always been the case. The two of you were never close in the past but the very few times you would run into each other… as much as he hated it, there was always some sort of tension there.
With your back to him, you hadn’t seen the way he silently made his way across the room, shutting the door behind him as he went right to you. You could sense his presence behind you, see his reflection in the dark window and feel his rough fingers brush against your back.
“I meant to tell you, I like your shoes,” You said casually, his fingers beginning to work the knot that tied the ribbon of your dress, “My friend wore them in Paris just a week ago.”
“Friend?” Jungkook raised a brow curiously, his eyes trained slowly on the ribbon he was ever so slowly pulling loose. His gaze shifted to your reflection in the window as he pulled a little rougher than earlier, “Is this the one you’re always running off on the phone with?”
“You mean Park Jimin?” You asked, not bothering to react at all to his roughness or his speed, “Yes, him.”
You could feel Jungkook’s deep exhale as he pulled it as loose as he could while still being appropriate, “Are you seeing him?”
A mischievous smile couldn’t help but make its way to your face as you turned to face him, holding your arms around yourself modestly, “Is that what you wanted to talk about all along? You could have asked me earlier instead of spending who knows how long looking for me.”
He had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself agreeing with you, and with a tense jaw he asked again, “Well, are you?”
“I’m going to get changed,” you motioned toward the door, telling him to leave, “Unless you want to help me with that too.”
A scoff left his lips as he took a step back, annoyed that you wouldn’t just answer his question and annoyed he even cared enough to ask. What did it matter to Jungkook if you took a date? He wasn’t in a relationship with you and he barely considered you a friend.
When he wasn’t here and he was traveling, he was perfectly fine not knowing a thing about you aside from whatever article or magazine you appeared in. Why now that he returns and he sees how… glamorously beautiful you are, is he curious about you?
“And just so we’re clear, no, I’m not seeing Jimin,” You told him as he walked toward the door, stopping midway to listen to you, “Because I know it would make you jealous.”
To be honest, you didn’t think he would actually be jealous, it’s just a joke. Something about you just gets under Jungkook’s skin and it wants you to push his buttons that much more. As obvious as it was that he wasn’t at all amused by your sweetness, it was your arrogant charm that seemed to get him every time.
You knew you were beautiful, you knew you had every right to be arrogant and as much as Jungkook could deny he’s attracted to you at all, it’s very noticeable. You’ve never been told no a day in your life. You’ve never been rejected either and you know Jungkook wouldn’t dare reject you if you actually went for it.
Despite how vocal he is about his distaste toward you, you can’t help but still get giddy in his presence. You just want to rile him up and know that he’s attainable to you. You’ve always had a thing for him, he was an absolute gorgeous man and he was wealthy, extremely wealthy. He was educated and had class but at the same time he was rugged and intimidating. You’ve seen the small glimpses of ink on his knuckles and you just know that under all his long sleeves, he had more to show.
Whether you felt seriously for him or if you just figured it’s a spur of the moment situation, you want him.
“Jealous?” Jungkook attempted to scoff but the word caught in his throat with some truth to it, “Why would I be jealous?”
“I don’t know,” You shrugged, sliding the strap of your down your shoulder, “Because then you would have to share my attention with someone else.”
Jungkook knows he should leave. You had asked him to leave yet you kept going back and forth, and it was stopping him from doing so.
He should go.
He needs to go before he does or say something he’ll regret.
If he caves in to your taunts then he’ll be disappointed in himself, like part of him was allowing his return to his old lifestyle of luxury and privilege.
“Y/n, you always say things you don’t know,” Jungkook asked you with a deep voice that had you smiling, practically feeling him give in. His gaze was dark and there was no hiding the growing tension, “And you must think you’re real cute trying to act out now that we’re alone.”
“No, I know I am,” you said, not backing away from the eye contact. “And you know it too.”
“I don’t,” Jungkook loomed over you, eyes tracing down the curve of your nose and to the slight part in your lips, “I think… I think you’re…”
You blinked up at him, “Well say it, or are you too busy thinking about kissing me?”
An annoyed huff left his lips as one of his hands pulled you toward him at your waist and the other tilted your chin up until his lips were grazing over yours. You reached toward him, making the first real press of your mouths together and there was no use in acting like he hadn’t been in fact thinking about kissing you.
Jungkook let his eyes fall shut as yours did and he pulled you closer into his chest with the hand on your jaw sliding down toward the curve of your neck, making sure you didn’t pull away just yet. You kept up with the pace he had set of slow yet hungry kisses, pulling on your lips or letting his tongue slide against yours tenderly.
“Well?” You gasped feeling his soft lips kiss along your jaw, his soft black hair brushing against your face, a light scent of his shampoo or cologne that left you feeling intoxicated. The hand he had on your waist tightened at your words, pulling away with a quiet grunt, he looked you in the eye.
“Don’t ask me any more questions,” Jungkook groaned, the taste of your lips still on his tongue and there was a light sheen of gloss coating his lips from yours.
It’s shameful for him to admit how easy it was for you to break him down into every other man who seems to fall at your feet when given the chance. This is exactly what he didn’t want and now he’s pulling the godforsaken stained dress he undid and watching it slip down your body, revealing your naked form to his hungry eyes.
Above your bedroom was a deck filled with people celebrating the soon-to-be newlyweds while the Best Man and Maid of Honor are in the master cabin, half undressed, and stumbling onto the bed.
Jungkook was gentle but firm, he wasted no time popping the buttons of his shirt open, exposing the toned muscles of his body and the ink covering most of his arm. Your eyes scanned the markings, surprise and wonder evident on your face with how well he managed to hide how much he’s gotten done since he left.
“Surprised?” Jungkook asked, eyes low when your hands ran over his slacks, pulling at his belt and nails lightly scratching at his abdomen. His voice dripped with arousal when you sat up from beneath him, pressing light butterfly kisses to his abs and tattoos.
“You always surprise me,” You admitted, not as teasing as before but with a hint of playfulness still there. You looked up from his chest, the height of your sitting form and his standing one looked endless as he towered over you. “For instance, I didn’t think it would be this easy to get you in my bed.”
You kissed along his neck now, sitting on your knees to reach him better and nipping at his sensitive spots. His hand tightened around the neck of your head, not pulling your hair but definitely getting your eyes on his, “Why do your words sound so dirty when you say them so… “
Jungkook couldn’t even finish his sentence before succumbing to you once more and kissing your lips. With little force applied, he was laying you back down on the bed with his tattooed and muscular body just melting into yours effortlessly. With one hand on your neck and the other sliding down to the curve of your thigh, it felt like he was all over you.
“Let’s take this off you,” Jungkook murmured between kisses down your neck as he began to finally take off the ruined dress that had been in his way since you got him to undo it in the first place, “You’ve been teasing me with this since earlier.”
“Maybe because I wanted to see you get worked up,” you sighed as you made yourself comfortable on the king side bed, your body slowly unveiled to his hungry eyes. Once he had pulled the dress off you completely and threw it to the side, sitting up between your spread legs and staring.
Jungkook didn’t bother with discreteness as he eyed down your naked body still in shock that he was seeing it before him. Your breasts were on full display and the only piece of fabric hiding you was a thin lace underwear that felt so nimble and soft under his fingertips, so easy for him to just tear off of you. You looked gorgeous laying so pliantly underneath him and he couldn’t help but let his hands slide down from your bent knees to your inner thighs.
“Did it work?” You asked just above a whisper as he hovered over you, leaving needy kisses between your breasts while he tugged at the hem of your panties until he was sliding them down your legs.
“It really fucking worked,” Jungkook groaned as he cupped your boobs in his hands, letting his tongue lick at your pert nipples and feeling the way they stiffened underneath him. Your hands went to his hair, legs nearly wrapping around his torso when you felt his teeth lightly press into your nipple, sucking and tugging when needed.
His kisses began to run down toward your navel with his hands replacing his lips and kneading your breasts in the palm of them while he moved down to lay between your legs, “I want a taste, pretty girl.”
“Then get one,” you said in a whiny tone that had his big rounded eyes turning to look at you with surprise. A knowing smirk falling on his lips as he lifted your knees and pulled your thighs apart as far as they could go until he was eye level with your pretty cunt. Jungkook was never one to stop and tease when he needed sex, he had a tendency to get a little rough and take what he wants but it’s so hard to move it along when he’s met with the sight of you laying so pretty for him. He could tell your patience was running thin with how long he was taking to do anything and just before he felt you close to snapping at him, he leaned into you.
“Oh fuck,” you gasped in surprise with the sudden swipe at your clit by Jungkook’a flattened, long tongue and you’ll admit it caused goosebumps to form on your skin. You couldn’t see the way he smiled as his hands circled around your thighs, repeating his teasing flick of his tongue, feeling the way your folds began to react to him.
He felt your fingers run through his soft hair for anchor and for some reason that slight grip you had on him had his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he let himself get lost in the taste of your pussy. No longer up for any sense of teasing, Jungkook lets his mouth fall open, kissing your wet heat with his tongue pressing between your folds and finding your clit. Your hips were slowly bucking into his face, showing him just how much you liked his tongue and he knew just what to do to have you coming undone underneath him.
He sucked your clit into his mouth, his lips wrapped around the hard bud while his tongue swiped against the tip of it. He began a repetition of that and grazing his teeth ever so softly against your sensitive folds knowing he found your weak spot when he sucked your labia into his mouth and had your soft moans filling the cabin.
“Jungkook,” you moaned softly, fingers tugging at his hair roughly, “Oh god.”
He didn’t dare pull his mouth off you to give you a response and instead let his actions grow rougher. He unwrapped a hand from around your thigh and slipped it down to your pussy where he let his finger begin to draw patterns into your labia, so close to your entrance that he could feel your arousal quite literally leak out of you.
Your body was filled by pleasure that Jungkook was bringing you and you couldn’t help but bring your free hand to your neglected chest, trying to fill the void that Jungkook’s hand had left as you groped your breasts. Jungkook looked up completely enamored with the way you played with yourself while he ate you out and without any second thoughts, he pressed his long middle finger into your waiting cunt.
“That’s it,” he whispered, pressing a light kiss along your pelvis, “Cum for me, darling.”
“Jungkook,” you whined as he pushed a second finger in, hooking them upwardward just past your pubic bone and finding that soft, spongy spot with ease. With the way your walls fluttered around his fingers, he knew you were close and all it took was his lips around your clit while thrusting into that pleasure spot of yours, for you to wrap your legs around his shoulders and shake with release, “Oh my god.”
“Mm,” Jungkook groaned with pleasure, feeling your arousal flood his fingers in your release. He looked down at his wet hand, bringing it to his lips where he licked off the release that threatened to drip down his forearm, “Sweet.”
You looked like a mess trying to catch your breath and come to understand what had just happened between you to think too long about the fact that he was pressing his fingers into your waiting mouth till you licked your own release off him. He lifted a brow as your tongue circled around his fingers while sucking on them with your cheeks hollowed in. It had his breath hitching, trying to pull his fingers back out before he came just from that and began to pull at his own pants.
“Condom?” He asked in an unusually low and raspy tone. You blinked, “It’s fine, I’m on the pill.”
He didn’t press for more as he kicked his slacks and briefs off, hard cock pointed up stiffly. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from it. You wanted to wrap your lips around him and take him deep in your mouth because his dick was surprisingly so fucking pretty you just needed it desperately.
With your mind decided, you attempted to sit up when he pushed you back down, cock in his hand as he gave himself a couple strokes to relieve some tension and pulled your legs apart, “I need you now.”
“Impatient, are we?” You asked with a laugh, making yourself relax when you felt his cock head brush against your exposed clit. Jungkook wasn’t paying attention to what you said as much as he was to the way his mushroom tip fit perfectly between your folds.
A soft gasp left your lips as he pushed it against your clit, playing with your labia and letting the clear liquid that dripped out of his tip, coat your clit.
“Fuck,” Jungkook took a deep breath as his cock nearly slipped inside of you, playing with your earlier release to cover his length in it, “Such a pretty pussy.”
With an annoyed roll of your eyes, you grew tired of his teasing and with a quick hook of your leg around his slim waist, you pushed his cock into you eliciting a deep groan [almost growl] to slip from his lips, “Fucking hell, Y/n.”
“You were taking too long,” you moaned, legs falling back again as you tried to ease the slight pain that came from his thick member entering your tight walls. Jungkook’s hair was brushing against your face as he looked down at the way you took him in, “I was trying to be gentle.”
“Did I ask you to be?” You asked with a scoff. Jungkook rolled his eyes, spreading his legs further apart and digging his knees into the bed for support as he covered you with his body, laying down to plant a quick kiss to your lips. “Brat.”
“Jeon Jungkook,” your manicured nails traced down his back until your hands were under his thighs as if ready to make him move on your own, “Are you going to fuck me yet?”
He couldn’t help but scoff in disbelief, an amused smile on his face and without saying a word, he pulled out until on his tip was past your ring of nerves, and suddenly pushed back in. Your lips fell open in a silent gasp as your eyes locked with his and he smirked.
“You need it that bad?” Jungkook asked as he pulled your legs up, pressing them toward your chest and holding them down with his arms as he kissed your neck, dragging his cock back out, “How bad?”
“Jungkook,” you groaned, trying to move your hips but in this position it was useless, “Start moving.”
“Make me,” he kissed the tip of your nose, slowly sliding himself back in just a little. You rolled your eyes, moving your hand to hide your face as you felt yourself getting annoyed.
Jungkook was smiling like this was all just so amusing to him and with his lip pulled between his teeth, he thrusted in with little restraint, starting a slow yet steady rhythm, “Don’t hide your face, darling. I wanna see the Y/n L/n moaning for me.”
“Fuck you,” you shook your head feeling your pussy tighten around him with your legs pulled to your chest unable to escape his thrusts that were becoming more rough by the second.
“Come on darling, you can do it,” Jungkook groaned, feeling like he was on cloud 9 from the way your pussy took him in. He doesn’t know how to explain it but he felt really fucking good right now. He’s not sure if it’s that he hasn’t had sex in a while, or if it had something to do with the fact that it was you, but he was fucking you with all his energy, letting himself relax and just feel good in the moment.
“Jungkook,” you moaned his name, hand slipping from your face so you could wrap it around his neck, “Kiss me.”
“Kiss?” He asked, out of breath as his rhythm faltered and without thinking, he let go of your legs and let them fall back onto the bed as he tilted your chin up with a hand to kiss you. He set his other hand down on the bed for support, getting lost between your lips and your tight pussy.
Jungkook’s tongue licked against yours swallowing your moans, “Y/n, it’s s’good.”
“Mhm,” you circled your legs around him, “Fuck.”
Jungkook kissed down your neck, hands sneaking down to your waist and with one swift movement, rolled onto his back with you on top. He needed a change of pace because if he kept going, he would cum sooner than he wanted to and he needed you to cum one more time for him so if that meant letting you get in top, he would.
And it had been such a good idea because the sight of you sitting on his cock, leaning back and placing your hands on his thighs instead of chest, made him more excited. Your knees dug into the bed and with your fingers scratching at his muscular thighs and raised your hips, lifting yourself off his cock before plunging him back in.
“Fucking hell,” Jungkook groaned throwing his head back into the pillows, a hand on your hip but not daring to take control, “That’s it darling, fuck yourself on my cock.”
“Jungkook,” the new position was having him reach newer parts inside you that had your thighs shaking, “I’m so close.”
“Take it,” Jungkook growled, holding you in place as he dug his feet into the mattress and began to fuck up into you, “Take my fucking dick, fuck.”
“Oh my god,” you fell forward, hands scratching at his chest, feeling the knot in your stomach tighten, “I—I can’t. Jungkook, baby, oh my—“
“Take it,” he groaned, grabbing your hips harshly and moving once again so he was on top, thrusting into you despite how hard it was getting to pull out of your tight walls, “Take it.”
“I—I,” your lips fell open in a loud cry, pinching his biceps for stability, and felt your walls come undone. For the second time in less than hour, your orgasm hit you hard. Jungkook released a string of grunts, feeling your pussy convulse around him and his cock was greeted with a flood of warmth that had his legs shaking, trying to support him but he couldn’t take it. He barely had time to slip out before he was letting go, his cum dribbling down to your thighs as he let out one final moan of your name.
His body seemed to collapse down next to yours, panting and out of breath, “Fuck.”
The two of you were a mess, sweaty and sore and all you wanted to do was lay down and possibly sleep but where you were did not go past you unnoticed. You searched around for your cellphone, knowing you set it down somewhere before trying to change and found it on your nightstand with six missed calls from the Bride-To-Be.
Jungkook took a deep breath, sitting up and looking down at the mess the two of you made on the bed. He got up, not bothering with covering himself up as he found a towel and tried cleaning himself off with it while you got on your phone.
“Duty calls,” you joked with a sigh as he came to your side and began to wipe down your thighs. Yeonwoo sent you a dozen messages talking about a midlife crisis of some sorts. You sat up carefully, thanking him for handing you your robe and you slipped it on.
“What happened?” Jungkook asked with an awkward clear of his throat as he began putting on his clothes again. He’ll admit he was taking his time getting dressed and you left to the bathroom to freshen up.
“I don’t know, something with the gift boxes for everyone. I think Yeonie’s assistant forgot them,” you told him as you found new underwear to wear, making sure you were cleaned before putting them on. You left the door to the bathroom open to talk to him but you still changed into the white Jacquemus dress from earlier.
You walked up to him and he got the memo about zipping your back up and this time he couldn’t help but lean down to press a kiss to your shoulder blade, “Are you going up yet?”
“I’m gonna touch up my makeup first,” you told him honestly, “You go ahead.”
When Jungkook reached upstairs again, finding the party just as he left it earlier, it’s like nobody noticed he had even left for so long. They were all too focused on your new dress — which Yeonwoo absolutely adored on you. He found a glass of champagne and tried to escape from the swarm of people trying to hold a conversation with him when he wasn’t thinking clearly at all.
Unfortunately for the two of you, the matching off-white shade of your clothing and the sudden mark on his neck wasn’t lost on anyone else. Soon, pictures from every angle possible would paint a story neither of you wanted.
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There was a sense of guilt that came with disassociating yourself from your best friend’s wedding plans. Jungkook could barely remember what they had done once they got to the island after a surprising night of visiting your cabin.
He hasn’t had an actual conversation with you since that night and he has to be honest and say, he barely remembers the actual wedding. He hadn’t seen you since the yacht before being dragged away by Hoseok the following day to do some activities for Namjoon’s groomsmen. You had gone to do your Maid of Honor duties and he’s felt out-of-loop since.
The entire day had been packed with things to do and he’s aware he looked dashing in every photo the photographers took of him in his 12,000$ Kiton suit. The matching suits they all wore made the groomsmen look classy and cohesive while the Balmain dresses the bridesmaids wore made them elegant and surreal—well at least for you.
That’s what he thinks is the problem.
His best friends got married and yet all he was able to think about was you. It didn’t help that despite the wedding being on a private island, there was still press everywhere, capturing every angle of this beautiful matrimony between nepo babies.
The reception had been filled with various questions from various interviewers that left all your shared friends staring at you suspiciously—especially when questions of the hickey on his neck came forward.
As awful as it sounded considering the 46 million dollar wedding in the mountains of an island was stunning, he could barely remember half of what hadn’t been photographed. He left the day after the wedding with an excuse that he had things to take care of where he’s currently at and his friends bid him farewell.
He got to the mainland a day before the others and it gave him time to return home before he left on another voyage alone.
“How was the wedding?” His older brother asked, swinging his mallet just slightly, trying to find his nail before shooting the ball through the hoop, “I can't believe I was caught up in meetings all week in Tokyo.”
Jungkook looked oddly bright today compared to how he felt and he didn’t want to say it was because his casual and boring clothes he wore abroad stuck out here in ways he didn’t like. That’s why today—his last day home—he visited his family’s 150 acre estate for a game of Croquet and possibly tennis, wearing a matcha colored Loro Piana cashmere polo with short sleeves.
“Um, it was great,” Jungkook said as he brought his cigarette to his lips and lighting the end before inhaling.
“That’s it?” JungHyun asked with a scoff as he motioned for Jungkook to take his turn and he took his brother’s cigarette, “Did you have an orgy with any models or were you your usual gentleman self that won the crowd against me?”
His older brother had been well known in his younger days for many reasons, his partying, his charm, his youth and education. When he was in his mid twenties, you could always catch him in some article their parents tried taking down in regards to driving under the influence or insulting a server. Unlike Jungkook who preferred a quiet life he could escape to, his brother did not and now he’s some big shot finance guy because his attitude growing up had ruined his chance of inheriting everything from their grandparents. Now it will all go to Jungkook—something they’re all aware of—and maybe that’s why JungHyun makes snide remarks here and there.
He’s not asking about the wedding because he’s curious, he’s bitter that despite his perfect appearance and Jungkook’s more intimidating kind, Jungkook was still the most well-mannered of the two and therefore the favorite—if only he stayed and fulfilled his duties.
“No orgy,” Jungkook said with a hint of disgust as he finished his round of the game, one step closer to winning, “Just Y/n.”
JungHyun had been mid-swing when he mentioned you and his aim went astray making him miss the next ring, “What do you mean just Y/n?”
“I slept with her—“
A loud and annoying laugh cut him off as JungHyun let his mallet go, “Ah, so you can’t remember the events of your best friend’s wedding because you were too busy sleeping with the nation’s sweetheart? Oh I cannot wait till father hears about this, maybe your wedding is next and then you’ll finally step up to the plate.”
Jungkook scoffed, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means now that you’re back, and dating the richest girl in the country, there’s no way Father won’t hand you down the company now,” JungHyun said bitterly, “And everyone said you running away would be a bad thing, but clearly it’s reminded you of who you are.”
“I’m not… I’m not staying,” Jungkook said, “I leave tomorrow but I wanted to see you all. And Y/n and I aren’t going to date, it was a… um.”
“Mistake?” JungHyun asked, “Jungkook, don’t be an idiot. You’ve been obsessed with her for years.”
“I have not.”
“You have, you just don’t want to admit that all your talk about being independent and leaving the money behind to be free was complete bullshit,” JungHyun said with a scoff, “Or why would you mess around with her of all people. A relationship with Y/n is going to put you at the top once again and there’s nothing that won’t be handed to you—and she’s someone mother would approve.”
“You’re dramatic,” Jungkook huffed, “One night doesn’t mean we’re dating or getting married or any of that other shit. I still don’t want to run the business… I just want, I don’t know.”
“Yeah, you never know what you want,” JungHyun said, “But whatever, if you’re set on running away again, so be it. I’m tired of trying to make you see how you blindly follow along with everything you seem to hate.”
“Master, your wife is on line three and she’s wondering who is picking up the kids.”
“Fuck, I don’t know,” JungHyun groaned, annoyed and no longer interested in talking to his little brother, “The driver?”
Jungkook watched his brother leave him behind and with a defeated sigh, he left.
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“So are you leaving?” Youngi asked him as he watched the bubbles in his pink champagne, “Or have you changed your mind?”
“I haven’t changed my mind,” Jungkook said stiffly as he fixed the suit jacket he was currently getting fit into, “I’m just postponing my leave but I have a few things to take care of here.”
“Like with you and Y/n?” Youngi asked, making sure the fitting room at Dolce & Gabbana was empty aside from just them two. Jungkook didn’t even flinch at the mention of you. Since the two arrived at this store his vision has been filled with large framed photos of you and your dear friend Park Jimin all over the store. Apparently you were one of the brand’s favorite Ambassadors and they made it known you modeled their products. Right now he’s facing the mirror with a picture of you modeling a satin baldonétte bra and high waisted panties. You looked beautiful and seductive and its been hard for him to not just stare at all your pictures since he got here. Now Yoongi is attempting to bring you up and he refuses to give in to the extent his relationship with you has gone.
You haven’t even spoken since the wedding and even that had just been an exchange of pleasantries and no real depth to either of your words.
“No, with my father,” Jungkook said stiffly as he shrugged off the suit jacket and called in the stylist to find something else. Yoongi sat up in his seat slightly more interested, “Really? About what? Don’t tell me you're back in the running.”
“We're going to discuss it,” Jungkook mumbled to himself.
He wanted to make one thing clear, his decision to seek out his father and work out some sort of plan where he can get back into the job he had been assigned to do, while also having freedom had absolutely nothing to do with you. It has nothing to do with the fact that you’re here, and he’s interested in you, and that it would be his parent’s dream for him to stay and be in a relationship with you and also take over the business finally…
This was his decision because his brother’s right. He can't just keep running away.
“And what do you mean, with Y/n?” Jungkook asked, clearing his throat awkwardly as he glanced up at your five foot photo framed above the mirror, remembering the shape of your body against his, moaning his name and tightening your walls around him.
“Haven’t you heard the rumors?” Youngi asked as he got on his phone, “It seems as though you have competition.”
Jungkook didn’t need to be told more as he took Yoongi’s phone from his outstretched hand and read what was on the screen with furrowed brows.
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At the end of the article, in big, fat letters, the conclusion said: ‘Now the question is, will L/n choose the best friend, Park Jimin, or the elegant and influential Best Man, Jeon Jungkook—possibly as the country’s newest IT couple?’
When he gave Yoongi his phone back, there was no denying the sudden irritation that contorted his features. It’s not like he expected this to not happen but… he doesn’t like what they’re implying. Yoongi studied him closely to see if he would get a response, but Jungkook gave nothing away. Instead he just ordered the tailor to pack the two suits he tried on so he could buy both, “I’ll meet you out there.”
Yoongi left Jungkook to get changed and while he stood alone in the fitting room staring up at your boudoir photos framed around him, he took his phone and dialed your number.
“Hello?” Your end of the call sounded hectic, louder and busier than his did. You were in the middle of an interview for Vogue and were taking a short break. It seemed like he called at just the right time since you were getting your makeup touched up.
“Are you busy?” Jungkook asked with a sharp tone that fell on deaf ears when the call went silent for a moment. He really did admire the photo of you, remembering just what it was like to trace his hands along your figure.
“Who is this?” You finally asked, making his jaw clench slightly.
“Jeon Jungkook.”
“Oh you see, I wouldn’t have known that considering you didn’t even say a hello or anything,” You told him in a sarcastic tone that made him want to smile but also roll his eyes, “Besides, I am busy.”
As if on cue, the call of your name in the background made your claim concrete. He bit his lip in thought, wondering what it was you were doing and how long it would take, “When can I see you?”
A smile played on your lips as you held up a finger to your assistant who was trying to hurry you along, “Did you make an appointment with my assistant?”
He couldn’t help but scoff as his gaze turned toward a glare, practically imagining that picture of you smiling at him, “I didn’t know I needed one, darling. When can I schedule one?”
“I’m not sure, i'll let you know,” you said and before Jungkook could respond, the call ended and he was left in shock that you just hung up on him. He gathered his things and met Yoongi outside to pay, completely bewildered by the fact that you just hung up on him so easily. He knows you haven’t spoken since the night of the wedding where you were forced to speak but this is all he gets?
“What took you so long?” Yoongi asked as they left Dolce & Gabbana with new things.
xxx-xxx-xxxx: Appointment scheduled for, 6:30 pm today, L/n Residence @ the Northbrook Estates
Jungkook couldn’t help but laugh in disbelief at the confirmation of an appointed meeting with you tonight.
The night on the yacht had been unexpected yet also long-awaited and now that its done with, neither of you seemed to know what to do about it. You wont lie and say you didn’t enjoy that moment with him but you were also realistic. You and Jungkook would just never work out, you’re too different on the outside and that’s why you’re so confused now as to why he called you.
“So, Y/n, its been a busy season for you this year,” an interviewer said as the camera zoomed in on your expression as they continued, “Not only did you walk thirteen shows but I hear you also celebrated your close friends wedding. How was that? You must have been exhausted.”
“You know it was a lot but it was exciting, I hold my friends dearly and I’m just thankful I was able to make time for such an event,” you said and you’ll admit your response sounded scripted. You didn’t dive too deeply which is what you’re sure the interviewer wanted. You should have known that this stupid interview wouldn’t just be about your newly established modeling career.
Whether you’ve become Model of the Year for your catwalk, or for nepotism, you didn’t are much either way. All you cared about was the fact that the interviewer has found a way to slip in questions they didn’t need to know. It’s like you can just sense the things they’ll ask and have already prepared and calculated the exact responses you need to give.
“Of course, and what a star-studded party,” the interviewer continued, “The Best Man being Jeon Jungkook must have been exciting for you.”
“Well, we’ve all known each other for a long time now so…” You cleared your throat, looking a bit disinterested.
“Yes, of course,” the interviewer said with a nervous laugh, “And pardon me, Y/n, but I just have to ask, did anything happen between the two of you on this very intimate trip?”
Your smile strained but you never looked anything less than sweet as you said, “We are all just very close friends. Most of them have supported me in modeling.”
It was a clear attempt on your part to direct the conversation back to what it was supposed to be about. She ignored your last comment and said, “So… I guess we’re all curious, some pictures from the parties were released of the two of you awfully close in certain open waters, and an evident hickey on his neck—not to mention the matching clothes, please, is there something between you and the heir of Jeon Corporation?”
“Nothing that should concern you, no,” you smiled sweetly and the interviewer seemed to freeze up, unsure if she had gone too far in her questions.
Silence filled the space around them and there was no way to cut these parts out since it was a video shoot and after a while of the interviewer struggling to find which questions to ask, a person who worked for you stepped forward, “How about another short break?”
The interviewer released a shaky breath while the both of you made your way off camera and your glam team was quick to touch up your hair and makeup as the director of the shoot approached you, “Y/n darling, how are we feeling?”
“Annoyed,” you answered honestly, “I thought this was supposed to be about my modeling.”
“You’re absolutely right, darling, we apologize for any mistake we’ve done on our part, I—She must have taken it as an opportunity to ask her own questions and I promise you, we will have a deep conversation about this. We aren’t TMZ…” the director said and you rolled your eyes.
“I’m done filming if she’ll be the one continuing the interview,” You told him as you began to walk away from him, not caring for the excuses or whatever and you can hear your publicist repeat your words to him.
It wasn’t even that she was bad at her job or that she asked anything too deep but she just quickly got on your bad side with her persistence to not let the subject drop.
In the end you got your wish and filming ended smoothly before you were driven away to whatever was next in your schedule, trying not to think about the interview or the fact that there was a chance you would be seeing Jungkook later.
Things are evidently strange between you two and its not like you’ve been blind to the articles or posts about you but you don’t want to address anything. That night on the yacht seems like a fluke and like it shouldn’t have happened at all despite how you felt in the moment. Your parents aren’t the type to be invested in what is put in the tabloids but when their lifelong, country club going, friends call them and ask if there’s anything between you and Jeon Corporation’s Jungkook, they’re going to want answers.
It was just one night, one night where the two of you put aside whatever indifference you had toward each other just so you could release tension and this is the consequence for that. Of course everyone would want to know and of course no one was able to turn a blind eye to you. Even Yeonwoo managed to ask what you had been doing in the cabins withJungkook or so long that night and even when you tried to ignore her she kept pressing you for an answer.
In truth you had nothing to say. You were both adults and it didn’t matter if anyone else was dying to know if there was anything going on between you.
You resented each other.
You had sex.
Plus, he’s going to leave soon and you don’t think that bothers you?
When your driver pulled up to the tall skyscraper you called home, you headed inside alone.
“Good evening, Miss L/n,” the lobbyist held the door open for you, “You have a visitor waiting in the lobby.”
Your brows furrowed, checking the time before heading to the library where sure enough, Jeon Jungkook was sitting by the fireplace reading whatever magazine was set out for him. At the sound of your Miu Miu kitten heels, he turned staring at you with his big rounded eyes being the only thing you could see beside his face mask, “You’re early.”
Jungkook wrapped an arm around your waist as he pressed his lips to your cheek in greeting and you did the same, he joined you in the elevator and said, “I like to get to my appointments early.”
“You’re lucky my shoot ended early or else you might have had to wait outside like a dog,” you teased as you pushed the button for the top floor where your penthouse was located. As part of the infinite amount of wealth your family has, you also dabble in real estate, mostly in the country as luxury apartments but you do have some homes overseas: Paris, New York, Argentina, etc.
The place you call home is a top floor penthouse with terrace and rooftop. The floor in which it was located was completely shut off for just you and included a private gym, yoga studio, three walk-in closets, and on top of that an elevator parking garage with a Mary Kay Pink Rolls Royce sitting pretty inside it.
Jungkook has never stepped foot in your home before and it was overwhelmingly stunning with four bedrooms, two living rooms (one on the top floor and one on the main floor too), an open kitchen, poolside terrace, and five bathrooms. You lived in ultimate modern luxury with traditional themes throughout the home like its hand carved wooden furniture and expensive marble walls.
“Is this different from your little magic treehouse in the woods you ran off to?” You asked, tempted to push his buttons as you removed your coat and handed it to your housekeeper who waited at the door.
“Well, considering my magic treehouse is worth 2.6 million dollars, no I wouldn’t consider this that different from it,” Jungkook couldn’t help but boast, feeling like he’s competing. It’s like when he was in school and the students would brag about whatever exotic trip they got to go in the summer and he would have to make sure to tell them what he did was better. “Maybe I’ll bring you with someday.”
Fuck. Why did he say that? Why is he indulging in any of this in the first place? You and Jungkook should never be together, right?
“Speaking of which, I thought you would have ran off now that the wedding is over,” You said as you mumbled something to the housekeeper making her leave, “Drink?”
“Water is fine,” Jungkook said as he made his way down to your 70’s inspired talking pit of suede Anabei sectional couches, “And I thought I would have been gone by now too”
“What changed?” You skied curiously, “Don’t tell me it's because you would miss me.”
You held your hand to your chest as if to seem touched by the thought and Jungkook just rolled his eyes as you continued, “How would all the other girls feel knowing I’m keeping you here?”
Jungkook scoffed as he practically pushed your legs off his lap, “Can you not joke for just one second?”
You couldn’t help but laugh, even if part of you felt confused wondering if this was supposed to be a serious moment or not. Jungkook huffed, running his fingers through his black hair, “I’m here because I wanted to talk to you about all those articles. My parents are working on taking those down, are you okay?”
Your eyebrows knitted together with confusion, “Me? Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Because I’ve never seen anything bad written about you and suddenly you’re being painted as a two-timer by spending a night with me while also… doing whatever it is you do with that friend of yours.” He was not jealous. He swears.
To be clear, there really is nothing going on with you and Jimin. You’re just two friends in the modeling world who happen to like attending secret parties together and maybe making out drunkenly every now and then. That’s it. You’ve never slept with him and Jimin has too many girls on his line for you to ever consider him.
“I’ll survive,” You mumbled as you looked over at him, seeing him in deep thought.
“I’m thinking of staying a while longer,” Jungkook said suddenly with a clear of his throat.
Jungkook was not the shy type and to be honest he’s not even sure why he’s letting you know [as if it made a difference] but the words just slipped out.
He did not like you.
Well, he didn’t like you like that. It sounds harsh he’s well aware of that but he was never romantically attracted to you before so how is he going to suddenly feel that way after only a week in contact again. Maybe it was just unresolved sexual tension after years of feeling that way but that can’t be the only thing that’s making him want to revert back to what his life was like before he left to live on his own.
He escaped all this so that he could live somewhere quietly and do what he really wanted to do without worrying about anything else. Now he’s contemplating moving back and possibly involving himself with his father’s business again. Too much is going on for him to understand why.
“For how long?” you asked as your fingers began to softly run through the ends of his hair making him look at you. You couldn’t hide your curiosity and how close the two of you are.
When he had pulled you down to sit with him, it was with your legs thrown over his lap which he had been caressing every now and then.
An arrogant smirk formed on his lips as he licked them, tapping your calf lightly, “How long do you want me here?”
Fuck, Jungkook is staying to get back in business… not for you.
It’s not for you.
It’s not for yo—
His breath hitched as a sudden weight shifted to his lap, his hands immediately went to your waist, helping you get comfortable on him. It’s embarrassing the way Jungkook didn’t hesitate to reach for you when you sat on his lap feeling your arms thrown around his neck, “Here as in…”
You looked down at the short skirt you wore which rolled up a little from how your legs straddled his thighs and said, “Under me?”
A scoff in disbelief left his lips as he couldn’t help but laugh, sliding your hips closer, “Yeah.”
It was attractive the way your conversations never seemed to fall unless you wanted them to. It was a constant cat and mouse game, banter back and forth and he catches on quickly.
You couldn’t help it, okay. Anytime you would see pictures of Jungkook since he left, he was always in a hoodie and sweats or something that just hid his entire body. Right now he’s wearing this Christian Dior white button-up shirt [which he rolled the sleeves up at some point since he got here] and it was messily untucking from his black slacks and he looks so hot right now. His hair was messy in a sexy way and he looked just like he used to, except this time with tattoos and a different sense of maturity.
Without wasting another moment debating if you should or shouldn’t, you leaned down and kissed him. Jungkook’s lips parted against yours, stretching his neck to kiss you with more need. Unlike the first night you kissed, this one wasn’t as rushed and angry. He took his time longer, pulling your bottom lip between his and doing it over again.
You pressed your chest against his, with your tongue swiping against his lip teasingly until you met his. Jungkook’s hands pinched the satin fabric of your skirt, feeling it tighten and rise, unable to stop the growing desire he was feeling for you. His briefs were getting tighter every time you shifted on his lap and whatever he had been thinking before you started making out.
“You want to play?” He asked, shifting his head to deepen the kiss without bumping noses. You pulled away feeling desperate to catch your breath as his kisses began to travel down toward your exposed neck, licking and nipping under your jaw while beginning to make
“Maybe,” you sighed in pleasure, running your hands through his hair when you felt him kiss down your collarbone, closer and closer down the deep-v in your Miu Miu chiffon top. The strap to your shirt slipped down your shoulder as Jungkook’s rough fingers traced down the side of your arms.
You cupped his face in your hands, forcing him to go back to kiss your lips as you felt his growing erection press into you. It was hard for him to ignore the fact that the only thing covering what was under your skirt was a flimsy, thin piece of lace he shifted you closer until his bulge was tucked between your legs, placing your hips right over where he wanted them to be. Now that he moved you, his outline was more evident and had you grinding along him.
Jungkook released a groan with a sharp breath once he felt that sudden move and he couldn’t help but buck his hips against you, feeling the fabric of his briefs constrict his hardened cock. It was a frustrating feeling yet he felt so eager with his tongue down your throat and his covered dick tucked nicely between your covered folds that he couldn’t even think to stop and remove the layers.
His lips were feeling swollen against yours yet he didn’t want to pull away, the friction he was getting from the way you humped him was turning him on with how needy it felt. You kissed along his jaw, grinding against his aching dick while your nimble fingers began to unbutton his shirt.
“God damn,” Jungkook groaned as he threw his head back, relishing in the way your hips moved expertly against him while kissing down his naked chest. He slid his ass down your back, stopping over your butt and pulling your skirt out of the way for him to get a better feel of you underneath. With firm hands, he turned your sensual grinding into harsher and more deep movements that he met with his hips.
He’s not sure he could take just this any longer. Anytime he’s with you now it’s like he can’t do anything but fall for you and despite how annoying it is, he doesn’t do anything to stop it. Instead, he welcomes it and right now all he wants to do and rip off the remaining layers between you so he could have your legs wrapped around him once more. It’s only been days since the first time and he has not been able to stop thinking about it.
The day of the wedding he had been so distracted by you that he barely remembers any of it and now his best friends are on their honeymoon and he’s here thinking about you again.
Giving up on arguing how much he wants to have you, he wanted to get your clothes off and you were letting him. His hands had barely made it to the end of your top, ready to pull it off, when a loud ringtone cut through the living room, echoing off the walls and hard to ignore. The two of you looked at each other confused.
He sat up, reaching his hand into his pocket and pulling out his phone, annoyed that someone had thought to call him.
“Answer,” you said breathlessly as you looked at the caller, already sliding yourself off his lap.
“It’s just Hobi,” Jungkook said, letting out a huff in annoyance as he set his phone back down, turning to kiss you but it rang once again. Your eyes met his and he begrudgingly grabbed his phone and swiped to answer, “Hello?”
“Hey man, I just got off the phone with your Yoongi,” Hoseok said as he sat in a large closet filled with designer clothes, “And why am I always the last to know if you’re leaving or not?”
“What?” Jungkook looked visibly annoyed with his scrunched brows and tense jaw and for some reason that made him hotter to you. His shirt was undone completely and his belt was halfway pulled off and with his legs spread, it was very hard to ignore his hard on.
Your eyes softened with curiosity and you couldn’t help but bite down on your bottom lip as you decided to just go for it. First, your hand rested on his thigh as he listened to whatever Hoseok said, but slowly you made your way toward his bulge.
“You’re gonna start working with your dad again?” Hoseok asked, unaware of the way Jungkook’s attention had drifted down to the palm of your hand, right over his dick. Your fingers pressed against the underside of his member, massaging your palm into it and feeling the way his hips raised. “What happened to not caring about the money and the company and all that blah blah blah?”
Jungkook couldn’t help but roll his eyes, snapping back to his friend instead of what was going on. His fingers wrapped around your wrist, tightening their grip as if in warning. It was a useless attempt considering he tried helping you pull his belt off and saying, “Come on man, it was never like that.”
He could hear his own tone falter somewhere between lying and having his cock free from the confines of his tight briefs with your hand feeling him.
Hoseok laughed, debating what suit he should wear, “No, it’s exactly like that.”
Jungkook’s hand went to your head, softly caressing you as you kissed down his navel, your hand wet with spit, jerking him off while licking just above his dick. He didn’t bother with a response to his friend as he continued speaking anyway, “Is it true you and our princess are messing around? It’s all over the tabloids.”
Sarcasm was evident in Hoseok’s tone but Jungkook was too focused on your tongue licking up the length of his hard cock, wetting it with spit that made your hand movements smoother.
“Look I get it, you’ve had all this tension something was bound to happen but damn, why didn’t you tell me that either?” Hoseok asked with evident shock, unaware of the blowjob his friend was receiving on the other end. Your lips were wrapped tightly around his length and with your hand too, it was hard for Jungkook to keep his reactions to a minimum.
“Hobi, I—I, yknow I just,” Jungkook cleared his throat uncomfortably to hide an evident groan. He was beginning to fidget under your ministrations, especially when you squeezed under his cock, massaging his balls, “Sorry.”
“Sorry?! That’s all you gotta say after chewing me out for giving you condoms as a joke.” Hoseok was lying in a pile of Louis Vuitton suits on the floor, engrossed in his one-sided conversation, “Our friendship seems one-sided buddy. I thought when you came up to me… I thought, ‘Hey, maybe my good buddy Jungkook will get in this dandy hot tub with me’ but no, you know what you do instead? You ask where Y/n is! God I should’ve known—“
Jungkook threw his head back in a mixture of pleasure and obvious irritation that he couldn’t take it anymore. His finger pressed into the red button and the call was cut to end suddenly. As soon as his phone hit the couch, you pulled off his length with a deep huff for air, “That wasn’t very nice of you.”
“He’ll get over it,” Jungkook mumbled as he reached for your hand to pull you toward him, “Come here.”
“I’m not done,” you leaned away from the kiss he was trying to give you but his hand held your head in place, not caring to kiss the lips that had just been around his hard dick. Jungkook wasn’t as gentle as his need grew heavier and with a strategic pull at your top, it ripped down the back, “Jungkook!”
“What?” He asked with a giddy smile, tempted to be playful, “It was in my way.”
You rolled your eyes, sitting up to take your skirt off yourself and prevent another hazard while Jungkook finished undressing himself. “It was custom, asshole.”
Jungkook’s smile dropped with worry, lips parted in surprise until you burst out into a laugh and fell onto his lap, “You should see the look on your face.”
“Ha ha, don’t scare me like that,” Jungkook chuckled, “I was already thinking about the fortune I would have to pay to fix that.”
“Jungkook,” you ignored the fact that the two of you were naked, in the middle of an intimate moment and asked, “What did you mean earlier?”
“When?” Jungkook asked, caressing your leg, “About staying? Yeah, I’m serious.”
“You are?” You crossed your arms over your bare chest, “Why?”
“Why?” He was visibly taken back, “What do you mean why?”
“I mean… just a few days ago you were adamant on leaving right after the wedding and when you left the resort before everyone else we all kind of figured you had left but you’re here now and…” You took a deep breath in thought.
“Do you want me to leave?” Jungkook asked, sounding more hurt than he intended to. All this time pushing and pulling his feelings for how he felt about being here and seeing you was getting to him. He’s very aware how confusing he is and spending a night with you shouldn’t have changed his mind this quickly while he also refused to admit.
“We didn’t talk about what happened at the party,” you said suddenly, feeling Jungkook drape his shirt over your naked figure as the conversation shifted drastically.
“I know,” he dropped his head, “I’m sorry, I was really confused and I couldn’t tell what I was feeling or how you were feeling and I was mad and… I thought you probably didn’t care.”
“I mean, I didn’t,” you shrugged, “But because I figured it was just a one time thing since you were very obvious with how little you thought of me and now you’re saying you’re staying longer while visiting me at home and it just… I don’t get it.”
“Fuck, I’m sorry,” Jungkook was in his slacks again, trying to fix whatever mess he might have made over time, “I just… I was just being dumb. I wanted to act like I wasn’t into you at all because I was mad at everyone else and it wasn’t fair that I took it out on you but I thought you didn’t like me either.”
“And you’re right, you were mean to me,” you nudged him with your foot, “So really, I shouldn’t even be in this position with you right now.”
Jungkook didn’t dare argue when you called him out, “You always pretended to hate me even when you’d get jealous if someone else talked to me and you could never take your eyes off me.”
His brows furrowed, reminded of the trip and how everyone always joked that he wanted you when he was so stubborn on saying he didn’t. He didn’t like how predictable his life was.
“Because I knew everyone thought you were perfect,” Jungkook tried pulling you toward him, “And they didn’t know how you liked to push my buttons and say things you knew would get to my head and how you were actually so unbelievably perfect that it pissed me off everytime I let you get to me.”
“Don’t sweet talk me now,” you teased when he leaned over to lay between your legs, content with the sight of you in his Dior shirt, “How are you gonna repay me for being such a dick?”
“Whatever you want,” Jungkook admitted, “Say the word and I’ll give you whatever you want.”
“I have everything I want,” you ran your fingers through his hair.
“Come on Y/n, don’t make this hard on me,” he whined playfully, “Everyone else is already making it hard and I just want to spend the night with you. I’ll let you use me.”
Your brow raised and with a soft laugh you pulled him toward you for a kiss, “I get to use the Jeon Jungkook? What will everyone say?”
“That they saw it coming,” Jungkook chuckled as he pressed his lips to yours, “So don’t stop the inevitable.”
You rolled your eyes, feeling your arousal from earlier slowly make its return, “You’re so spoiled.”
“I know.”
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Jeon Jungkook now knows what an awful liar he’s been these last couple of years. All of this talk about wanting to be different, break free from his family’s influences and the world of money and power, was meaningless in the end. He tried, he really did but his rebellion of running off and doing whatever he pleased, refusing to acknowledge the company, the wealth and the people in it was short lived because he never actually wanted to escape it.
He was still going to be friends with the people he grew up with and fall back to his old routine of country clubs and parading on yachts or private islands.
He was still going to take over his share of his father’s company and dress himself up in designer Kiton suits that he used to despise wearing.
He was still going to fall for you, the person he despised simply for being an exact reflection of himself. You were perfect for him in every way on paper and that made him want to push you away but in the end, he still fell for you like he knew he would.
Some people dream about having the life he does, or growing up the way he did and yet here he was selfishly wishing it all away. It was perfect, it was so insanely perfect and unfair that Jungkook ever thought he wouldn’t be happy with what he had been handed down to him for simply being born.
“This person gathered valuable experiences in the world and has shown such a strong will to portray it all into commitment for the company and that makes me a proud father,” A deep voice spoke from behind a podium with an echoing mic that had the attention of over a hundred people, “Please, welcome the newest V.P. for Jeon Corporation, my youngest son, Jeon Jungkook.”
Jungkook had an arrogant smile on his lips as he walked onto stage, thanking everyone for congratulating him on his quick and easy advance in the company—even surpassing his older brother.
“Honestly, it is a big thank you to everyone close to me, for helping me see how ready I am to step into this role and fulfill my duty as a member of this corporation,” Jungkook said confidently, looking at all his friends who had a mixture of confused yet knowing smiles on their faces.
“What a brat,” Hoseok joked with Namjoon, “And I blame you for this.”
“Yeah, I’ve never seen someone get pulled back into the country’s good graces so easily,” Namjoon laughed, remembering all the articles about how my ridiculous Jungkook was for publicly stating he would never be a part of the company.
“That’s because he’s spoiled,” Jungkook’s older brother chimed in, “Even after he says he’s gonna walk away from it, he’s still gonna be welcomed back with open arms.”
Taehyung released a playful sigh, “I want to be Jeon Jungkook when I grow up, the perfect life just handed to me and I’m just too blind to appreciate it.”
“Tae, you’re rich,” Yeonwoo whispered to him, Taehyung grinning at her reminder and sitting up straighter.
“How was it?” Jungkook asked his friends as he looked around the table.
“Well rehearsed,” Taehyung gave him the thumbs up, “Also, where’s Y/n? I thought she’d be here.”
Jungkook checked the time on his watch, his leg already bouncing underneath the table, “Yeah, I thought so too.”
It shouldn’t be that big of a deal to him. This was all just some flashy way for his father to make Jungkook’s debut in the business widely anticipated and you had other things to do than be here. The two of you aren’t even officially together yet so it’s not like you owe it to him or anything.
“Y/n,” Jimin whined as he watched the valet open the limo door for you, “Please don’t ditch me. I’m your best friend, imagine how much fun we could be having. Everyone’s going to ask where you ran off to after the dinner.”
“Well you can tell them,” you hurried to finish applying your lip gloss, “That I had more important things to do than get drunk at some fashion party.”
“Right, just throw me to the side like I mean nothing,” Jimin said dramatically, “Is this how you treat friends now?”
You couldn’t help but laugh, knowing he was only trying to cause a scene. Jimin knew you would be calling it an early night but he just wanted it to be difficult. With a small sigh, you double checked that you looked fine in the mirror and said, “Okay, wish me luck, I’m hoping I get laid tonight.”
“I also hope you get laid tonight so that I don’t have to listen to you talk about how much you want to see him,” Jimin said as you made your way out the car, “Goodnight.”
By the time you got to the banquet, the cameras had been long gone from the entrance and so you were able to make your appearance quietly. You would have been here earlier if there hadn’t been an ambassador dinner tonight that you had already agreed to do before Jungkook decided on staying and you just couldn’t miss it.
You felt bad because Jungkook had asked you to come be his date but he understood why you couldn’t make it right away. If anything he should be happy that you hurried over from dinner to the banquet without an outfit change. Despite the number of attendants, it was really a private affair with only a couple people from the press but nothing too grand and over the top. It made arriving late less miserable and finding Jungkook and your friends much easier.
And when you first involved yourself with Jungkook in this way, you should have known it wouldn’t all be easy. You were now somewhat seeing the most eligible bachelor in the country and nobody knows about it aside from speculation. Speculation won’t stop spoiled rich girls who want him to themselves and that’s what you saw when you found him.
“It’s so great to have you back Kooky, it’s like… the best thing to ever happen,” some girl gushed at him from the once empty seat to his left. She seemed unaffected by the stares she received from around the table and didn’t care at all that Jungkook wasn’t even glancing her way. He doesn’t know her, she’s probably just the daughter of some wealthy couple who thinks she has a chance with him.
Jungkook stared forward, watching his friends’ faces as their eyes softened, no longer listening to the girl who said, “Maybe we can get together some time.”
A gentle hand touched his shoulder, soft lips brushing against his ear as you said, “Maybe we can get together some time too.”
There was no denying the smile that grew on his face as he turned to look at you and how close you were to him. Jungkook’s lips parted in pleasant surprise, ready to talk to you when someone else spoke up.
“Excuse us, sweetheart,” Namjoon said to the girl, “It seems our table is full, maybe you can try somewhere else?”
She left with an annoyed scoff, making room for you to sit down, “Sorry I’m late, did any of you miss me?”
You had a sweet smile on your face, a camera clicked somewhere else in the distance surely capturing how close you were to Jungkook specifically, who was tracing his hand along your thigh.
“Dearly,” Jungkook said as he leaned into you for a quick kiss on the lips, “Thanks for coming.”
“I told you I’d try and make it,” you said to him, “I missed the speech didn’t I?”
“It was nothing special,” Jungkook’s hand began to slide down the space between your legs—or at least as far as your dress would let it, “Just the usual talk about how amazing I am, it was all very boring.”
“But I love talking about you,” Your tone was sarcastic yet flirty, your hand falling over his in warning when he began to pull up your dress just a little. You were sitting at a table with a large draped tablecloth that hid your legs underneath but you were still very aware of the fact that your friends were all around the table.
“Y/n,” Hoseok called for you from across the table, “How does it feel to have the Jeon Jungkook wrapped around your finger?”
Jungkook turned to his friend with a harsh glare, knowing he was just poking fun at it all but still managing to get under his skin. You looked at Jungkook with a knowing grin, “Like nothing I didn’t expect.”
He scoffed, squeezing your thigh possessively, “I think the feelings are mutual, darling.”
You leaned into him, not caring for being around so many important people with cameras trying to capture whatever moment they can, “They are.”
::.
a/n omg it took me literally forever to write this and idk how I feel about it but yknow what 😭it’s finished and that’s what matters. I was in the mood for some rich kdrama feel fic and I hope I managed to pull that off at least a litttlleeeeeeere
thanks for everyone that waited patiently and please feel free to lmk what you think <3
permanent taglist: @notmyfaultbutours @rerefundslocals @fandems @sugaluvmyg @guvgguk @kimyishin @libra04 @kooromiwrld @classycreationcupcake-blog @cherrymonlightt @nikkiordonez12 @asking4-sanity @thvlover @saweetspoiled @shaybts-blog @babycandy111 @jeonninja @yellowcupid08 @02010802faves @skzthinker @unnatae @beautywine @lilliankoo @annenakamura @lesoleile @burnahtsw @kooloveys @ku-ku @chaelvrx @minnie-mouser22 @whoa-jo @marvelbun @sunnikthv @kochycooky @acielelyseen @giselleswifeee @ilikeitlikethatt @bangmechanpls @lvr2seok @badbyeyoongi @jaerisdiction @watermelonjuice15 @artmsmaid @xyahrinx @angeleen777 @jooniesxbby @dream-cvtcher @jksjx @kissyfacekoo @joyjunk @caro134340lina @hyunjinswifeee @oldermenluverrr @caro134340lina @olivialeesstuff [taglist is too long so I’ll have to make two versions of it]
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lxnarphase · 2 months
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keep it quiet ๋࣭ ⚝
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☾₊‧⁺...ft. : g. satoru + g. suguru + n. kento + h. hiromi + f. toji + k. shiu + k. choso + r. sukuna + h. kinji + t. fumihiko + t. aoi ☾₊‧⁺...cw : college au, 'we have to be quiet' trope, unprotected sex ☾₊‧⁺...synopsis + a/n : this is based off an old ask from my old account that i just HAD to redo but for the jjk men : "which of the jjk men would fuck you when visiting your parents in your childhood home?"
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who teases you the whole time ↴
g. suguru ; oh, he’s an asshole, acting like an innocent angel when in reality he’s slipped his hand into the back of your sweatpants several times today, giving your ass a squeeze when your parents weren’t looking. you nearly curse him out when he ‘squeezed past’ you, his hand on your waist pulling you against him as he makes sure you feel how hard he is through his pants. so it's no surprise when he whisks you away and has you pressed against your bedroom wall. 
“do you hear that? those dirty noises you making from me fucking you? bet you wanted this all day, didn’t you, princess?” “didn’t mean to go that deep…but might do it again, just like this. oooh, I like that noise you made, pretty girl, make it again for me.”
g. satoru ; satoru can sense you getting needy, pulling you to your bedroom the second your parents bid the two of you good night. it's technically his fault, just a few minutes before your parents said goodnight, he excused himself to the bathroom. you were confused when your phone buzzed and you saw a message from satoru, opening it just to see a picture of his hand wrapped around his dick. 
“didya plan this, baby? hm? for me to fuck you until you cream on my cock in your parents' house? so needy, my pretty little baby.” “such a whore f'me...you can’t stop thinking about my dick, look at how wet you got just from that picture. bet it feels good being stuffed with it now, right, baby?” "oooh, she's creamin' all over me, so pretty, i can't stop, can't fucking stop, so fucking pretty when you're all messy like this."
f. toji ; he acts like it’s not him who had you against the wall with his hands up your shirt and his tongue in your mouth literally seconds before your parents came back home from the store. the two of you are on edge, and the second your parents tell toji he is free from helping in the kitchen, he drags you away to your old bedroom down the hall to continue what he started. 
“you're not talkin', but fuck, you’re making so much noise down here, they’re gonna know, sweetheart.” “you gonna cum, mama? aww, pretty thing's gonna make a mess of my cock while your parents are down the hall waiting for us to come eat? fuck, do it, baby, cum all over my cock like a good girl.”
r. sukuna : it's some family get-together your parents invited you to, but you can barely focus on saying hi to everywhere with the way sukuna is draped over you, arms around your waist as he presses his hips into your ass as you talked to your parents. the moment you have the chance, you make some excuse about showing sukuna your childhood home, dragging him inside to your old bathroom. 
“you really wanted me, didn’t you? my pretty whore, sucking me back in, your squeezing me so tight.” “had to pull me away into the bathroom to fuck you stupid. tch, desperate slut." "you know your parents are literally right outside, what if they come back in? mm? come on, let me really fuck y'deep, give ya what you want.” 
h. kinji : he just wants to get on your nerves, seeing how bold you were acting in the car earlier about being your parents’ best kid, telling kinji what an angel you were in your parents’ eyes. sure, you still are the biggest sweetheart kinji has ever encountered but...little angel? oh, he couldn't wait to prove to you how that’s changed.
“’little angel’, huh? pfft, if only they knew what a slut their precious girl is. what if they walked in right now, seeing how their ‘good little angel’ is taking her boyfriend's dick like a dirty little slut?” “right there? is that where it feels good, cupcake? ohh, shit, baby, did you cum already? aww, you can keep going right?” "i know, i know, 's too much, 's too much, but you're takin' it like a champ, hun, just keep cummin' and let your man fuck you good, baby, pretty please?"
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who is loud and doesn't care ↴
t. fumihiko : if you want to keep him quiet, you better kiss him or put something in his mouth to shut him up because he’s so lost in how good you feel that he can’t keep his volume down, knowing that your parents are probably watching tv downstairs.
“i-i can’t stay quiet, ‘m sorry, if we get caught i-i’ll make up to you, just-just lemme go faster, pretty please?” “ah, i know i said one more but can’t stop, n-need to cum again!" "’s already leaking out of you, hohmygodd...g-gotta fill you again, keep you nice and full of my cum, fuuuuck, ‘m gonna cum again!”
t. aoi : it's those damn sweatpants. the second he changed when you got to your parents’ house, you can fucking see his dick print when he sits down, the way he has to spread his legs not helping. you drag him into the bathroom with the intent to fix it, just to see this motherfucker isn't wearing underwear.
“aww, bunny, ya didn’t have t' lie. if you wanted me to fuck you so bad all you had to do was ask.” “saw you starin’ at it, you're not very subtle...you happy now that 'm fucking you full, bunny? shh, don't whine, babe, 's okay.” “so loud, they're gonna know i’m about to stuff you with my cum. hey, don't cover your mouth, it's alright, i'll buy 'em somethin' to make up for it, bunny.”
k. choso : as you sit next to him at the dinner table, you can feel his leg bouncing, rubbing up against yours. you press your hand to his leg, looking at him with a concerned face when you see how choso is sweating a little, his ears pink. all it takes is one glance down for you to see he got himself worked up. 
“i know, 'm sorry, 'm so sorry, b-bad timing but i need you. i’m so fucking hard. g-god, you're just so pretty and-and i gotta fuck you, i promise i'll do it nice 'n' good, you'll love it so much, baby.” “h-huh? fuck, i knoww, g-gotta be quiet but you feel so good. can i go harder? please? i know it’ll make noise, but need to go harder, wanna cum in you, wanna fuckin' stuff your pretty cunt full of my cum, babyyy.”
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who manages to stay quiet ↴
h. hiromi : hiromi didn’t know what happened until you sat him on your bed, locking the door behind you before getting in his lap and pulling him into a deep kiss. he doesn’t know how thin the walls are so he opts to keep your lips on his so your moans don’t reach your parents in the living room.
“shhh…stay quiet, sweet girl. i know it’s a lot, but you have to be quiet.” “i can…see a little bump whenever i fucking slide back into you...god. what if i press down on it- oh fuck, don’t squeeze me like that, fuck.” “you’re squeezing me so tight, sweetheart, does it feel that good? yeah? hey, hey, shhh, come here. kiss me, don’t be too loud, kiss me when you cum.”
n. kento : kento is hushing you the whole time, not questioning the way you shook him awake while whispering his name. poor thing, he can instantly hear the desperation in your voice, the want and need to take care of you helping him wake up quicker. but your parents were above your room, so kento knows he had to keep you quiet. 
“nonono, let me take care of you darling. i don't mind, you just focus on staying quiet, i’ll make it all go away.” “mhm, i know i’m hitting your spot, angel, but you have to stay quiet. i know it feels good, i knowwwww, but stay quiet for me.” “shh, shh, you can do it, cum quietly like a good girl, i've taught you how to be a good girl, right? come on, be good, be a good girl for me, cum for me.”
k. shiu : it's 4am when he wakes you up, mumbling something about not being able to sleep. you don't even get the chance to ask him what's wrong before he pulls his pajama pants down, his cock slapping against his stomach as a thick stand of precum dripping down the base. he needs help otherwise he’ll be up all night.
"mm, angel, you're being too loud. be quiet for me, don’t need your parents hearing us.” “stop making so much noise before i fuck your mouth instead, or is that what you want?” “i should've had you like this in the first place...poor thing, always so noisy when my cock hits you this deep, right? mmn, just keep your ass up and your face in the pillow, baby, sound so pretty all muffled.”
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all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter my work
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moongreenlight · 3 months
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Ex Husband!Price who still comes over and shovels your driveway every time it snows. But then you feel bad because he comes into the mud room every fifteen minutes to warm up so when he’s done you insist he stays for a hot meal.
But then he helps clean up. Does the dishes and shoos you away when you tell him he really doesn’t need to do all that.
Even worse if you have kids!! They’re thrilled that dad is around so they beg you to let him stay to watch a movie or play a few rounds of their video game. Of course you say yes. Who are you to take him away from the kids?
But then it’s late and he’s wound up carrying the kids up to their beds and tucking them in because they’d already fallen asleep on the couch. You say your goodbyes and honestly it’s a little bittersweet because it’s been such a surprisingly good evening.
But when he tries to leave the driveway’s already gotten all snowy again and you’d hate to be worrying about him driving home in these conditions so you offer him a spot on the couch swearing it’s only for tonight.
But then you get to talking about schedules and the kids sports they’re signing up to play and he winds up walking you to your room so you can just finish your thought about how the two of you should split the costs for the sports your kids are doing in the spring.
But once you’re in your bedroom you remember that you’ve been meaning to ask him about something on your computer so you leave him with your laptop while you get changed.
But then oh noooo he comes into the closet to ask you for a password and catches you pulling on the top of your pajamas. You’re mortified. He says it’s nothing he hasn’t seen before.
Somewhere in between deciding if you’ll drive to or pick up from practice on Thursdays, his hands start to wander. Resting over your sex from over a pair of flannel pajama pants. Usually, you’d tell him off. Monologue about how this isn’t how things work because it complicated things and you both need to set boundaries. But tonight you don’t.
Maybe it’s because you had two heavy-handed pours of your favorite wine with dinner. Maybe it was seeing him with your kids again. Maybe it had just been too long since you’d felt anything other than a cheap bullet vibrator.
So you let him slip his hand down your pants.
But it’s a bit jarring to feel his wedding band still on his finger.
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gremlingottoosilly · 4 months
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Beekeeping age [Dilf!Konig x fem!Reader]
You're ex-boyfriend is an asshole, so you decided to fuck his hot military dad instead. You're going to find out why his first wife ran as fast as she did, very soon - but Konig is still the best dick that ever happened to you.
CW: Daddy kink(obvi), power imbalance, possessive Konig, perverted Konig, age gap(Reader in her early twenties, Konig in his early forties), mentions of cheating(your ex is a douchebag anyway), slightly obsessive Konig, size kink, unprotected sex.
FIRST PART (can be read separately) AO3
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— Why your wife left you, again? 
You stuff your face full of…something. He cooked it – gods did he cook it well. It’s meat and vegetables and spices, and it feels like your dad cooking but twice as good. It feels like pure sin because he says you shouldn’t worry about calorie counts or how fat the meat is, or how good everything tastes fried because he needs his special girl to feel good and healthy and fatten up a little bit, and you…gods, you’re down. Bad. 
You wonder if König’s wife left because she couldn’t compete with his cooking. You wonder if his wife left because he was feeding her too good. 
— Why don’t we leave uneasy questions for later, Schatzi? 
He brushes his hand over your hair, taking in the way you look – dressed up in his shirt, skin covered in bites and bruises from his hold. He can’t see it right now but can almost testify to the way your lipstick was all over his collar – good thing he wasn't wearing his uniform shirt, wouldn’t want to make dorks from Kobra jealous. 
He brings you another plate, he fills your glass – you never knew beer could taste this good, but he whispered something about having his own little homemade brewery for wine and beer somewhere in the mountains, in his Summer house. This man has a hug apartment in Vienna and a Summer house – you think you heard him having enough land to go hunting and to keep bees, and you might have cum a little bit just here and there. 
— I would like to know the story, actually. To not repeat her mistakes, you know. 
— You won’t, Liebling. I can already picture you with a ring on your pretty finger. 
— Not so fast. Maybe I don’t believe in marriage. 
— You’re too young to stop believing in it. 
— Way to talk when you’re the divorced one, sir. 
— Shut it, Schatzen. I can still take care of a good girl like you, ja? König leans in to kiss you, his lips brushing over your mouth – it’s wet and swollen, he bite you quite a few times already, and you feel dizzy just from the way his tongue lingers just a second before going in, taking your arousal even more. His hand gently brushes some hair from your face and you giggle from the sensation of his rough fingers on the softness of your skin. It never failed to mesmerize you, just how seasoned and old the colonel might be – and his hands would still tremble as if he is handling the finest porcelain doll in his hands. He has the expression of an anxious, devoted follower – you are not sure how his wife could left him. If he was looking at you like this every day, even as you go through with pregnancy and a piece of shit kid like Paul, you would die before leaving him. 
— Could you two please stop fucking each other? 
— I thought you wanted to move to dorms.
— This is my house too!
— Not on the documents, it’s not. — You can’t just throw me away, dad! — Your new stepmom needs her space. 
König grasps your shoulder as you try to stop them from arguing again – it’s embarrassing enough that you’re fucking your ex’s dad. Colonel makes it a whole fucking show, parading you around as his controversially young girlfriend, making sure that his son will hear your moans and whimpers as you get fucked at every surface of this apartment. You were wondering if you could ask him to move to the Summer house – even with your college and all. You can take a gap year and write a journalist investigation about lonely veterans and their mastery at brewing alcohol. You can take a gap year and try your best in the new trophy wife gig. König’s hand is firm on your shoulder – you know better than to try and argue with him, the silent recognition of authority loud in your head. You sigh, trying your best to just stop yourself from acting too damn weird. It’s their male thing, and you’re just an intruder in a big T-shirt and old leggings. König said it wasn’t his wifey’s – that he burned all of her stuff when she left. Somehow, you find peace in that statement. 
— How could you even…Jesus fucking Christ, this is disgusting. She is my age! — And the most beautiful girl in the world. I can see why you liked her. — She is my girlfriend! — Schatzi came to me in distress and begged me to take her. I think we both knew you weren’t…the best option. You feel more embarrassed with each second of their conversation. You don’t want to listen, you don’t want to take in their words, you feel like a trophy being discarded between two different winners. You feel like a prized mare on a farm – and they won’t even look at you. Too distracted by the sound of their voices, you eat your dinner in somewhat somber peace because you need to eat, after all, and you really like what König cooks. You like what König does most of the time. All of the time. 
Paul storms off the room after a few minutes of bickering. You feel guilty for not stopping him because he was still kinda your boyfriend. You ex-boyfriend. Your asshole incel-ish ex-boyfriend whose assholless literally made you go and sleep with his dilfy dad, and…god, you feel like a whore. Good. Paul was calling you a whore a lot of the time, you may as well take the new name and plaster it in your new badge. 
König’s hand lingers on your back, caressing it gently. You whimper because you feel bad and you’re still in college, and Paul’s disgusted reaction reminds you that fucking a guy in his forties isn’t the best business decision. Even if the said guy is a retired colonel with shitload of money, even if he still goes to work sometimes, just because he wants to feel cool and shoot guns at bad guys, even if this guy buys you cool gifts and he promised to renovate your car or buy you a new one, and he makes plans and takes you to places that don’t make you feel like begging for attention. 
If anything, you feel like he is drowning you with attention. 
His hand lets go of your shoulder – he was holding you so tight the whole conversation, you can sense the bruises forming on your skin. You lick your lips, and he moves to kiss you again. You feel like drowning, you feel like this is all just a dream – and you’re also drunk because gods, König knows how to make a good glass of…something. 
— You shouldn’t act like this. He is your son. 
He laughs dismissingly. He dismisses a lot of things you said – you think it’s the age difference. You think he is just being traditional, and you don’t want to be too nagging. You don’t want to end up like his wife and wake up from the dear you’ve been seeing. 
König’s lips are soft, and you can look past his hands, taking you too possessively – you can close your eyes, and you can just listen to his accent, smiling as his tongue worms its way into your mouth. He is good, you think – at this whole kissing thing. At this whole “Hi there, I’m a retired old dog and I am fucking the girlfriend of my only son. I’m divorced btw” .
He has experience – you know it when he tucks your lip between his teeth, when he massages your shoulders as you spread your legs already, so wet for him, it’s almost embarrassing. You never slept much with Paul – his poor excuse of a son – it was always never enough lube, it was always never enough attention, he always needed you to shave or to leave your hair to grow a little bit, it was either your perfume being too sweet or you no wearing anything at all. You thought he would have much more fun masturbating to his anime chicks and poor gaming sessions with his friends. 
But König isn’t like this – every time he drops on his knees to eat you out like a man starving, you feel utter and complete devotion. In his tongue, in his mouth, in his teeth as he sucks little marks into your thighs, making sure you will remember it tomorrow when he will ask you to stay for breakfast and then ride you to whatever you need to come next. Last time he promised to drive you to the library, he took a few turns and took you to some restaurant instead. You gushed about not having proper attire, he was still in his half-uniform and rocking dark cargo pants, and he was apologizing every time his fingers hit that special spot in your cunt as he fingered you during the second course of meals. He said that he was so, sorry about not fucking you properly, about having to resort to public displays like this – and you were too high on loving him to care. You still are. — I don’t think we should be…
— He left. Won’t bother us anymore. 
— I’m not in the mood right now. 
— You’re always in the mood, Schatzen. Enough to drive me crazy. — You’re a pervert. Like Paul. 
— He takes on after his father, ja?
It would alarm you how much contempt he had for his own child right now. Then, again, you were the one who dumped his son for the powerhouse of a dad. Maybe it was your daddy issues, maybe it was your dumb reasoning and the summer break that you didn’t want to spend with your family. Good thing you’re spending it with the other. 
König’s face is buried between your legs, his teeth tugging on the soft fabric, forcing your leggings down. God, it feels good – he is so high on wanting you, can’t even wait to take off your clothes properly. You never had a man wanting you so badly before – it’s addicting, it’s crushing, it makes you feel like a goddess among men. Makes you feel wanted, a thing that your ex never did. 
You forget about guilt when he kisses your lower tummy, when his lips trace down to your cunt, taking sharp licks through your panties. You wore them this morning, something from a new lacy set he bought – one of the only ones that weren’t torn off from your body the moment you took them on. He always wanted you to make these little fashion shows for him, making good use of his money – you weren’t a sugar baby, not on paper, you still clutched to the last traces of your dignity, but he did buy you a lot of gifts. 
— S’ pretty for me, Liebling. The prettiest girl in the world.
— I assume after…af..ter your wife. 
You giggle when he frowns, his rugged face filled with concern. He doesn’t like jokes about his marriage – you don’t want to ask him about it because it would mean waking up from a dream you want to experience over and over again, but you heard what Paul was talking about. What his mom told him about. you heard enough to know that kissing a man like König is a safety hazard and a liability that you can’t afford, but it’s warm, and he is rich, and you don’t want to go back to your part-time job this season. You want to be dumb and you want to be young – right now, you’re doing both. — Don’t be so dumb, Schatzi. Although it suits you. 
— I’m not dumb! 
— Nein, you’re not. Just silly. 
— You just call me a different type of dumb. 
— I like it when you’re dumb. Makes you cuter. 
König is awkward and funny, and he buys you things that you could never afford. He is mysterious and kind – to you, not his enemies – and he uses German words randomly in his phrases because he knows the accent, and the pronunciation drives you crazy. You never thought of thinking of yourself as a dilf hunter but, hell, here you are. With his dark ginger stubble – and grey streaks that make you go wild every time you look at him – between your thighs. It’s tickling, and it’s a bit irritating, and he will rub some calming lotion in your skin after this, making sure to cover every inch of your skin with some expensive cream that he knows jackshit about, but you wanted it, and so he went out and bought it. Gosh, you felt dumb even asking him for this. 
He traces his kisses along your thighs, tongue lingers to press against your wet, swollen folds. Flirting in front of Paul made you embarrassingly hot, solidifying you as a shitty, bad, horny person who needs fat cock stuffed in your leaking pussy. You lick your lips, and you tremble when he pushes his tongue inside. He is starving, pushy with all of his needs – makes you almost beg for it, like a pet he took from the street. 
— I want to take you to the Summer house next week. 
You open your eyes, shocked. It’s nothing, really, you shouldn’t be this surprised about him wanting to show off his other properties. You want to check out his wine cellar and how sturdy the furniture is. You want to see if he had deers running around the house. If he had any pictures of his family – and if you could ever hope to compete with his ex-wife. It’s a petty competition, but you don’t have much to do and to think about. It’s obvious the love here won’t last until the end of the break, and you want to get as much from it as possible. Maybe even some hot bikini picks at his pool. He has to have one. — What if I have plans, sir? 
It’s innocent and you play the role well. You think some of your friends wanted to hang out or make a study group for the upcoming semester. You are a good girl at heart, with nice grades and a perfectly played-out future, and not as many working opportunities as you may like, but you could manage with something. Writing a killer essay about your life with a smoke show during Summer would be easy with someone like him. 
He laughs, his hand lightly smacks your butt. You bite your lip and whimper, not accustomed to pain feeling this good. 
— You will change them, little one. For the whole Summer. 
— I wanted to study. 
You moan when he lightly presses his tongue on your swollen clit, kissing and licking it. Slick runs down your legs, and he collects it with his mouth. You whimper again, tears prickling at the edge of your eyes – the sensation is sudden and overwhelming, makes you get your hands in his hair and slightly tug. He groans, pleasure from having you so active, so participating is overwhelming. He loves you, loves you, loves you, adores you. God, you’re beautiful. And so, so restrained – just his special good girl. Only for him. — You can study at our house. 
— You mean you and your ex’s house. 
He smacks you again for the foul language – although you know you didn’t even curse, he is still punishing you. In the lightest way possible, of course, you know you won’t handle anything too harsh – still, you feel nice and warm when he isn’t just eating you out, but also smacks you for speaking in such unpretty words again. 
You don’t even register the way he called the house yours too. All too dumb for this, again. 
— I mean our house, Schatzen. Just you and your daddy, ja? You worry too much about studying. 
— I want a nice job. Without…distractions. 
He slips one finger in your warm, tight hole – even just one digit is enough to make you shiver, clenching it like a sloppy whore. He is big in every way – just two of his fingers are bigger than a normal cock, and no, you didn’t want to compare a son with his father, but even Paul’s cock, as big as it was, was still way thinner than his father’s. 
— Why you need a job? 
— Not everyone are retired military. I need money. 
— You have me. 
— I d…don’t want to be a sugar baby. Sir. 
— I have no problems with being your daddy, Schatzen.
König is build like a powerhouse – when he slips just the tip into you, ignoring all previous preparation because, by god, you both need to feel connected, he is dragging you on top of the table, tossing aside the dirty dishes with remains of his perfectly cooked dinner…and you feel like home. Almost. 
You imagine waking up with his cock every morning, and with the nice cup of coffee only he can make. You imagine him gushing about rebuilding the house and working on his tight and neat desk job at the mercenary company – something about instructing, dumb recruits, only the most elite missions as an operator in retirement, creating strategies and tactics for the warfare – and thinking that, wow, your husband is really cool. You shouldn’t be thinking this because this is just a summer fling. Your relationships with Paul weren’t too serious either, you just didn’t want to be alone. 
König gently caresses your fingers, whispering something about numbers – you think you could recognize the word for a ring a bit later when he was making a call to some friend. In German, of course, you don’t quite understand it, but you worm your warm on his lap like a spoiled cat, purring on his crotch like a good fucking girl. But it was a while later. 
Now, you’re gasping and panting, his cock spreading you open and stuffing you like the poor bird he was cooking for dinner. You know you won’t be able to walk after a short while – would probably have to spend the day at his house, with him cooing and gushing about your sore body while he is quietly proud of himself. If you’re lucky, you could convince him to let you go in the evening. If you’re not, he will ask you to stay the night, and maybe even a bit more, and then he will just get the bag with your stuff from your room in the dorm by himself, and then… — What do you think about getting married in August?
Maybe, you do know why his wife left him. 
6K notes · View notes
jamminvroomvroom · 5 months
Text
second time around.
ln x fem!reader
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
in which he’s quite desperate to have a second kid.
staying in my active era! there is honestly no excuse for this one, i just simply couldn’t help myself. it’s porn, yes, there is plot, but it’s just. porn.
warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! where do i even begin? smut, more smut, breeding kink (kinda the whole point), choking, overstimulation, general sex acts, public sex, car sex, shower sex, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of the kid they already have, lando being a little shit, sex somewhere unhinged in the mtc, a brief moment of angst, dom!lando, rough sex? yeah.
3.9k words
take: 1
the season is coming to an end.
somewhere between italy and singapore lando decides he wants another kid.
it’s a warm day in the middle of september when he proposes the idea to you. you’re watching your daughter toddle around the garden, soaking up the last remnants of sunlight before the darkness of autumn encapsulates the warm beams until march.
she giggles, pushing her toys around in the grass. you let her play, lost in her own little world of wonder. lando turns to you, scanning your side profile, watching you watch the little girl. he’s awestruck, enamoured totally by the family he’s created, by the woman he loves. he doesn’t think, he just opens his mouth and let’s loose his big idea.
“want another one?” he cooes, sliding closer across the bench, until he’s nosing at your cheek. kisses are pressed to your puffy face. it’s still early.
at first you think he’s offering you another coffee, so you hold out your almost empty mug to him. you’d been nursing the drink, letting it go cold in the naturally cooler air. he laughs at you, and that’s when you clock what he’s actually asking.
you turn to him, facing each other now. lando looks excited. you wonder if you can find a way to mirror his expression.
“lando…” you start. his face drops at your tone, letting him down easy. “it’s not that i don’t want to, it’s just-“
“i’ll be home more. i’ve worked it all out. if we get to work now, baby will be here around the summer break.”
you mull over his words.
your first baby was a shock to you both, and you didn’t fancy doing that again. you loved lando with every fibre of your being, just as you did your daughter, but being away from him so much in the lead up to her arrival shot every one of your nerves to pieces.
but another baby would be on the agenda eventually - you both desperately wanted to add to your beautiful family - and you supposed that if he’d done the math…
“by get to work now, you mean…?” you cock an eyebrow at him. he lights up like the christmas tree you’d be putting up in a few months.
“she’s going down for her nap soon.” lando smirks, voice edged with that excitement once again.
-
his head is between your legs mere moments after he shuts your bedroom door.
you’d been waiting for him, stripped bare in anticipation. your baby girl would be down for a good few hours, more than enough time for him to draw out everything you had to offer and fill you back up.
his tongue runs over your flesh; he’s messy with it. you’re choking out whimpers as he licks and laps and tugs with his teeth. your pussy clenches around nothing and he notices, sliding his fingers all over where you ache. they’re quickly wet enough to slide inside of you, and he grinds them deep, luring traces of an orgasm into the pit of your belly. it’s familiar, the way he winds you up, and you want him like this every minute of the day.
“getting you ready, honey. gonna get you so fucking ready.” lando is slurring words into your cunt, letting them get lost to your sodden folds. you hear every word perfectly. they make you shake and shake until you’re undone.
when he looks up at you, his mouth is glistening. his fingers are, too. he hates wasting a drop of you, so he laps up the mess you’ve made while he shuffles up the bed. when he’s finally hovering over you, he’s desperate, but you’re worse. you could cry from the urge.
something carnal is taking place; he’s staring into your soul, finishing up the remnants of your taste, and you’re begging with your eyes, hands slinking all over your own body. you must be dripping by now. your body is restless and you raise your hips, inviting him close, deep.
when he thrusts into you, he’s pinning you down into your shared mattress. you’re completely at his mercy and he fucking loves it. you love it more. you go slack underneath him, and he starts a slow grind. he’s not thrusting, not yet, he’s just rolling into you, deeper, deeper, deeper. you feel the first tears threatening to fall. he feels so good, it’s unbearable.
he nudges at your most sensitive spot, over and over and over. you whine carnally and he swallows it, licking into your mouth. his curls tickle your forehead, you’re pressed so close together. he sees the pools in your eyes and then he looses it completely.
hand on your neck for leverage, he starts thrusting, harder and harder, faster than you can ever recall. he knows you can take it, knows how bad you want it, and that thought alone spurs him on. you have the same goals, the same shared instincts. you feel nothing but pure fucking bliss everywhere.
“you want me to fill you up? you want my baby, honey? want me buried nice and deep?” you hear him grunt, but he sounds so far away.
you are lost to the void when you come. you can’t even try and resist, not when you can hear how wet you are, not when you can hear the quiet whimpers he tries to fight at the way your pussy convulses around him. you cannot see anything but the stars in his eyes.
you go limp and he spills, fucking it even further into you. his eyes are trained on where you’re still joined, and where he’s still fucking you. you’d be screaming if not for the hand wrapped around your throat. the most delicious piece of jewellery you own.
lando needs to know he’s gone as deep as he can, that you’ve come as hard as he can make you. he feels unhinged when his fingers find your clit, switching between short spasms of his finger on the nub, and grinding down on it with his palm. you’re both overstimulated, soaked with sweat and other things. you’re gripping his cock so fucking tight that he can’t stop the rush of moans, your name mumbled like a prayer between expletives.
but still, he needs to know it’s deep enough.
an hour later, you can finally move, and you sink deep into the bath.
your head is on his chest, he washes you gently. you wonder if it’ll be a boy or a girl.
-
date night
almost a month passes. no sign of baby number two.
it’s fine, you tell yourself. you tell lando, too. all the more reason to keep practicing.
every opportunity he gets to bury himself to the hilt inside of you is a win in both of your books. he grabs every single one of those opportunities with both hands.
you’re dressed up nice for dinner, little black dress hugging you well. you watch the scenery flick past you. lando’s in the drivers seat, making small talk, his left hand heavy on your bare thigh. you’ve just dropped your daughter off with her grandparents, your mother hugging lando tight. he’d been gone a while.
fingers skim higher up your thigh. you want to let him carry on but this car is new, untainted by his adventurous personality and your willingness to comply. your legs snap shut and you watch him smirk out the corner of your eye.
“later.” you whisper.
his knuckles turn white on the steering wheel.
“i know. don’t you worry, honey.” he doesn’t sound convincing, no, he sounds like a man with a plan and you dread to think of what he has in store.
the restaurant is tiny. a hole in the wall. it’s intimate, exclusive, slightly extortionate, but lando likes to treat you. you order, and he behaves. you sip wine, and he behaves. you drag your heel up his leg, and still, he behaves. you know something is brewing behind those stormy eyes.
he launches his attack during dessert.
vanilla ice cream hits your tongue when he strikes, leaning back in his chair. his thick neck captures your attention, the dim light accentuating him just right.
“would your prefer we take this to the car or the bathroom? it’s pretty spacious back there, you know.”
lando speaks so casually, and slightly too loudly. your cheeks are aflame.
“lando!” you hiss in warning. you’re sputtering over his boldness, catching some ice cream with your tongue. he watches the way it moves over your lips intently.
“actually, as tempting as the bathroom is, we still need to break in the new car.” lando sounds like he’s talking about the weather, or a shopping list, not the location of your next sexcapade. you swear you see the old lady at the next table over wink at you. “your choice, honey.”
you’re staring daggers at him. he leans in closer, elbows resting on the table and a shit eating grin contorting his pretty face.
“i’ve been gone too long, i need to remember what that pussy feels like.” his voice has dropped an octave but it’s still too loud. you inadvertently grind against the chair. the candle on the table flickers from the force of the shaky breath your expel.
“if you shut up now, you can have me anywhere you want me.” you mumble, bringing your napkin to your lips. the ice cream is melting and you have more important things on your mind.
“i’ll have you anyway, honey. because no matter what happens, we’re gonna go back to the car and you’re gonna crawl into my lap, aren’t you? you’re not gonna be able to help it.” he keeps going and you want the ground to swallow you up. maybe you want to crawl over the table and jump on his lap right here. you fight every natural instinct.
“lando.” you try to scold him again but it comes out breathier, a feeble attempt at shutting him up. it’s hard to be convincing when you want nothing more than for him to bend you over in the middle of this restaurant.
“and after i’ve had you shaking on my lap, i’m gonna fill you up, yeah? you’ve been waiting for weeks, poor thing.”
you usher over the waiter, and ask for the bill.
-
he’s got you home in one piece and all the way up to the shower.
you’re still delirious from the car. he’s still dripping out of you.
he pushes you against the shower screen, your cheek resting on the fogged up plastic. the combination of yours and his first orgasm is enough to slick him up and he slides right back inside of you, as if he’d never left.
your head is spinning, car lights and nail prints in leather seats flashing through your mind.
he’d been right in the restaurant. you’d crawled straight into his lap and he’d been waiting, seat pushed back, cock slapping up against his tanned belly. he’d swiped his fingers through your folds, determining that you were wet enough already, and then you’d sunk straight down on him.
at first he’d just watched you lose control, bouncing and grinding and whining on his lap. you were growing tired when he stepped in, pushing you back against the steering wheel, the angle change making your eyes roll back. you came twice with his fingers on your clit and his other hand holding you down so he could grind up into you. he’d released deep into you, all you could do was shudder, collapsing into his chest.
now, he’s taking you again, the hot water cascading over you both. you’re almost limp, caught between the cold screen and his hot, restless body. this it was three weeks apart does to him, and the urge to claim every part of you is at the forefront of his mind.
you’re writhing. there’s no room to move; he’s pressed so tight against you, breathy moans sounding straight into your ear and you want him impossibly closer. you always missed him so much it hurt, but that pain had increased tenfold lately.
you try to roll your hips back into him, needing him deeper, somehow. you’re so wet and tight around him, and your attempt at moving on him has you clamping down on him.
lando whimpers when he lets go, marking you as his.
he washes your hair and you fall asleep together naked.
-
the fear
lando is due back from qatar.
any minute now, he’ll be walking through the door.
he’s taken a podium, so you are expecting somewhat high spirits, despite the slight issue that had been the sprint race.
a podium is a podium, you’d tried to tell him on the phone late on saturday night. you knew that a podium was never just a podium.
you’re cleaning the kitchen up, your sweet daughter tucked up tight in her bed upstairs. a random playlist is sounding from the speakers and you flit around in just his hoodie. it hits mid thigh and it’s keeping you shielded from the biting october air.
you hear keys in the lock somewhere in the distance. you grin stupidly. god, you always fucking miss him. you turn to face the doorway, eagerly anticipating his face, longing for one of his speciality hugs.
instead, a storm enters your kitchen in the form of your boyfriend.
you raise and eyebrow.
“lando?” you question.
your hips are in his hands before he can answer. he’s walking you backwards until the granite of the counter is digging into your lower back.
“turn around.” his voice is gravelly, commanding. you do as you’re told.
the hoodie is bunched around your waist, your panties are tugged to the side. you can hear the rustle of fabric, assuming he’s getting himself ready. two fingers gloss through your folds while he pushes you down, bending you over for him. he’s rubbing circles into your clit and you’re keening into his touch.
“you gonna tell me what’s wrong?” you manage to choke out. he grunts in response.
“just need to get inside you.” is all he replies. well, okay then.
lando rearranges you, hiking one of your knees up so that’s it’s resting on the countertop. your other foot barely touches the floor when he fucks into you, ruthless. you cry out, reaching blindly behind you for him. you graze his hip and he shivers, pushing into you even harder.
he’s frantic, messy with it, thumbing at your clit. there’s hardly any room to move his hand, so he’s grinding the pad of his thumb as best he can. the pressure builds in your belly embarrassingly fast. you love when he gets like this, but you will pry what’s wrong out of him later when he curls up into his chest.
“gonna give you another one. s’all i can think about. fucking you full.” he mutters. your back arches into him.
“please.” you whimper, slurred. it’s all you can think about too.
your plea ushers along his orgasm, and he drops his head against your back. you’re shaking when you finish; he stays buried deep for a moment, silence washing over you.
when he helps you stand up, he kisses you deep. he brushes the hair from your face, says hello properly.
“wanna go see her.” he mumbles.
-
when you finally manage to climb the stairs, you see straight into your daughters room.
lando is stood over her crib, watching her sleep in the lamp lit room. he’s cooing something to her that you can’t make out. your knees are weak at the sight. you want to fill this house with children that look like him and laugh the way he does.
he catches you watching, sending you a wink, a promise that he’ll meet you in bed. when he finally does, drawing back the sheets and dropping into bed beside you, he wraps himself around you instantly.
“talk to me.” you command, toying with his hair in a way that you know turns him into mush in your hands.
“can’t win a race, can’t give you another baby. just- fuck.” he sighs, voice so small. you tear up but you push that aside for now.
“stop, lando. don’t do this to yourself.” you try to sound firm, attentive.
“just- am i good to you? am i good to her?” he needs to hear you say it, that’s the only thing that will talk him down from this spiral. he’s exhausted, and this is often a consequence.
“sometimes i think you hung the stars in the sky.” you hum, kissing his forehead.
gentle snores lull you to sleep.
-
quickie
you go with him to austin.
it seemed logical, after the events of qatar. your daughter has been stolen away by lando’s dad, who is showing her the paddock and introducing her to mechanics. you watch on, momentarily, because then lando is stealing you away.
“haven’t you got fp3 in a minute?” you ask, coy smile on your face. he’s pulling your jeans down and kicking them away.
“this won’t take long.” he smirks.
you crave the upper hand for a change. his race suit is already undone, so you make your move. you tug down his fireproofs, taking his cock in your hands. he’s hard already, glistening for you. he groans, but doesn’t make you stop.
you’re watching him through your eyelashes, his head tipping back in pleasure. you work your hand around him, up and down, applying pressure at the base and around the tip. it’s flushed red, wet in your hand and he looks too pretty to stop. he can have you later, in your hotel room, you think. right now, you’re having him.
lando is panting, thrusting into your hand when he comes for you. you’re soaked through, and he can probably see the damp patch on the panties. his release hits your stomach, painting your flushed skin white. your eyes scan the room for something to clean yourself with, but he beats you to it.
thick fingers swipe through the mess he’s made. your panties are tugged to the side and then he’s fucking you with said fingers. you cannot produce a thought, mouth gaping open in the shape of an ‘o’. the sight before you has you gushing, and he uses that leverage to speed up.
“you think i’m gonna let it go go waste, honey? silly girl. pretty, pretty girl.” he mutters.
your hips are bucking into his hand when he pulls out of you, collecting more of him from your belly, and then he’s thrusting them in again. you tear up from the pleasure coursing through you, white hot. he’s crazy, you think, but he’s so fucking beautiful, teasing glint in his eye as he curls his fingers deeper.
“want it so bad, don’t you? gotta keep you full for me, don’t i?”
you’re sure you can be heard from the garage when your orgasm hits.
-
office party
a burnt orange dress clings to your hips and a curly haired man clings to your hand.
the mtc is lit up for another gala that you and lando have to attend. the season is over and they’ve had a great run, so a toast must be made to celebrate that.
you watch him get passed around the room between sponsors and other important people, proud of what he’s achieved. you hate sharing him, but it’s a necessary evil, so you drink champagne with oscar’s girlfriend, lily, and natalie pinkham.
when lando comes back to you, his PR smile is dropped and that genuine, boyish grin returns that you have so missed in his momentary absence. he introduces you to some people, proudly showing you off, sinking drinks as he does.
it’s nearing 10pm when his actions become questionable. his hand stays on your ass, his words whispered in your ear are filthy and his sly kisses on your neck stop being quite so sly.
you remove him from the main event, just for a moment, just to try and get him to compose himself before you jump him against one of the vintage racing cars. he sees this as an invitation, however, and then everything goes awry.
he’s dragging you into the lift, kissing you against the closed doors. when you stumble out a floor up, you can still hear the function in full swing. he’s pulling you down a hallway and into what you assume is an office. when he has you sat on a desk, you realise where you are.
“is this zak’s office?” your eyes pop out of your head, bewildered.
“maybe.” he shrugs. he’s smirking like a bastard.
“you’re insane.” you shake your head, standing from the desk, but his lips ghost your ear and you’re putty in his hands.
“you’re driving me insane. coming here in this tight fucking dress. can’t stop looking at you, thinking about this.” his hand rubs over your lower belly as he speaks, and then you’re back on the desk.
lando’s on his knees, peeling the silky material over your thighs until your barely there panties are in his face. he mouths over them briefly, and then they’re gone and his tongue is buried to the hilt in your cunt.
it doesn’t take him long to get you off, the alcohol and the thrill of being in the one place you should never have sex pushing you quickly towards your orgasm.
the glass wall of windows is too inviting for lando to pass up, so on shaky legs, you’re pressed up against them, looking out over the pond and the fairy lights when he pushes into you.
he’s kissing over your shoulder, your neck, holding your down on him while he thrusts up into you. you turn your head to kiss him, to let him swallow up your noises that could give you away.
“you’re so fucking good for me, honey. letting me have you here like this just so i can give you a baby.” he slurs against your lips, pussy drunk and ravenous.
he finds your clit, fast fingers making small swipes against it and you want to cry.
“gonna make this time count, yeah, honey? gonna keep it all inside of you until we get home?”
you try to nod, try to say something but you’re choking on air and dripping all over him. a couple more thrusts and you’re the perfect vessel for him to release into, throbbing and hot around his cock.
“beg for it, honey, come on. tell me how much you want it.” lando mumbles right in your ear.
“lando, please. please, please, please.” you whimper. “come for me, baby, need it inside of me.”
you leave the office a lot more composed than when you entered it. well, aside from the remnants of him that are running down your inner thighs.
-
a month later, lando’s laughing. he’s actually laughing, while you cringe, burying your blushing face in his chest.
you’re holding a pregnancy test in your hands, finally a positive one.
when you do the maths, you realise where baby norris was conceived, and you try and make him promise never to tell anyone that it was in his boss’s office.
“it’s a funny story.” he tells you. there are tears in his eyes.
“you’re so lucky i love you.” you roll your eyes. you are also dangerously close to crying.
but truthfully, you’re the lucky one. he carries you to bed that night, claiming that now you had a baby on board, you had to be careful!
you dream of him, that night. the man that hung the stars in the sky.
-
once again, idk what came over me i’m sorry lmfao
-
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yunopouts · 6 months
Text
trick or treat - j. jaehyun
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→ jeong jaehyun x neighbour! reader
-> dilf! jaehyun au
→ CW: dom! jaehyun, breeding kink (jae's horny, i'm horny, everyone if fucking horny), age gap (reader is in mid-20’s and jae is a divorced 29yo Jae), unprotected sex, creampie, fingering, handjob, oral (f receiving), praising, pussy slapping, biting, spit kink, oral fixation (jae), there are some cringey lines (i'm sorry but i wanted to have them in there but i didn't know how else to phrase them T-T), jae's thick in this one guys :D
-> a/n: omg haii ^-^ okay so this one isn't necessarily halloween related but his kid in the fic is going trick or treating so it counts!!! Jae is DOWN BAD in this one y'all. also just an fyi, this one has a lot more dialogue since they have more of a relationship and it's not just mindless sex this time?? but there still is quite a lot of sex??? okok enjoyyyyyy
-> wc: 6k
-> upcoming: switch! yuta (playboy yuta :) will explain more on that later) psst! requests are open!!
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“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Jaehyun’s face dropped as he read the email he had just been sent. Cursing under his breath, the man pushed away from his desk and poked his head out the door. 
“Hayoung,” he said. The woman at the desk looked up at him and from the look on her face, she knew what he was going to ask.
“Sir, I’m so sorry…” and she truly did sound sincere. “Gongmyung had no other times available to meet. He’s leaving for London tomorrow morning.” 
Jaehyun pursed his lips as he nodded. He felt awful that he couldn't take Subin out tonight, but he had one idea that could make his daughter feel better. 
The man checked the watch on his wrist, reading the time as 5:30pm. If he left now, Jaehyun could be at Subin’s school for 6:15pm to pick her up from daycare, talk to her, and bring her home for 6:45pm before he had leave the house by 7:30 to be back at the office for 8:00 pm to meet the clients for dinner. 
 “Alright, I have to leave now, but I’ll be back in time for the meeting.” Hayoung looked as if she was going to object, but instead she just nodded her head. Jaehyun grabbed his jacket from his office before pulling his phone out from his pocket. As he walked to the elevator, he scrolled through his contacts, searching for your name. 
As Jaehyun stood, waiting for the elevator, his heart raced with both the urgency of the situation and the lingering nervousness he got when you spoke. His thumb hovered over the call button when he hesitated. He took a deep breath and leaned against the glass railing behind him, feeling a pang of worry gnaw at him. Would he be imposing on you once again?
The elevators hummed softly as they stopped at different floors of the building while Jaehyun debated with himself, the prospect of the impending meeting weighing heavily on his shoulders. He decided to call you, but not just for Subin’s sake, for his too.
“Hello?” Your voice on the other end had a certain warmth, and it sent a shiver down Jaehyun’s spine.
“Hey,” Jaehyun let out a sigh at the sound of your soft voice. His voice tinged with the tension that had been building in the pit of his stomach ever since he received that email.
“What’s wrong? You sound stressed.”  You grew concerned when you realised how his voice was quieter than usual.
“It’s just work stuff…” Jaehyun’s shoulders slumped. “I really hate to ask you this,” And he really did. “I was wondering if you could watch Subin tonight? I know it’s Halloween, and it’s super last minute, but I was just scheduled for a meeting, and you’re the only one she’d want to go with.” the disparity in his voice ran deep, but you didn’t have any plans anyways, so why not?
“Of course, Jae.” You said, and the man sighed with relief. “What did she dress up as for school?” The calmness in your voice soothed Jaehyun’s nerves. The elevator sounded as it arrived. After the doors opened, Jaehyun entered and leaned against the wall as he felt a strange mix of emotions. 
“She decided she was going to be Elsa and when we went trick or treating, she wanted me to be Anna.” There was a moment of silence, but Jaehyun already knew what was about to happen. As the man closed his eyes momentarily, you burst out laughing on the other line.
“You were really going to dress up as Anna for her?” you asked, your voice was laced with amusement that made Jaehyun chuckle. 
“It was either that or Quasimodo from the Hunchback of Notre Dame.” A hand ran over Jaehyun’s face in embarrassment, remembering the conversation he had with his seven year old daughter last month when they were discussing costume ideas. 
“What, did she want to be Esmerelda?” you asked with a scoff.
“No, she wanted to be Laverne.” Jaehyun groaned, wondering from whom his daughter gets her ideas from.
“The gargoyle?” you cried. You held the phone away from your ear as you laughed loudly, clutching your stomach. 
“Yeah,” the man replied, looking at his shoes with a smile, the sound of your laughter resonating with him. “How much do you want me to pay you?” he asked as he walked out the elevator and to the entryway of the building. He waved to the secretaries and to those who greeted him with a smile.
You tried to reason with him, arguing that you didn’t need the extra compensation, but Jaehyun’s insistence on repaying your kindness only heightened the nagging tensions between the two of you.
“Jae, you really don’t have to, you know I’d do anything for you guys.” Your voice was gentle, “You know I feel bad asking you to watch her without paying you.” Jaehyun’s voice dropped lower, carrying an undertone of a deeper emotion with it. 
As he exited the building, silently thanking the valet driver for his keys.
“But I’m telling you that you don’t have to.”
Your attempt to reason with him was met with Jaehyun’s unwavering determination. “We’ll talk about it later.”
With no room for further discussion, you conceded, “I’ll see you at seven, then.”
“I’ll see you then.” Jaehyun confirmed, the tension settled down thickly in the air.
“Bye, Jae.” You said softly. 
“Bye, y/n.” Jaehyun replied, the sudden strain in his voice giving way to a sense of longing as he entered his car.
Sitting in the driver’s seat, Jaehyun gripped the steering wheel and looked down, feeling a slight strain in his pants. “Jesus fucking Christ…” the man muttered. “What am I, twelve?” his head fell back against the headrest in frustration. 
Jaehyun rolled down the window before he began to drive, in hopes that the cold breeze would clear his mind of the thought of you, and focus on what was more important: trying to find a way to tell Subin that he can’t take her trick or treating. 
-
By the time Jaehyun had parked in the school parking lot, he had nothing. He still didn’t know how to tell his daughter the news. Taking a deep breath, Jaehyun pushed open the car door and got out of the vehicle before locking it and heading to the waiting area. 
Minutes later, the bell rang and children of all ages flooded out the doors. Jaehyun stood amidst the sea of children pouring out of the school, his eyes scanning the crowd for a familiar little girl in an Elsa costume. He spotted her soon enough, her blonde wig glistening in the autumn sun, and a smile spread across his face. Subin was chatting excitedly with her friends, and he knew he had to break the news gently. 
He approached her, kneeling down to her eye level. “Hey, princess,” he greeted her with a warm smile. 
Subin’s face lit up at the sight of her father. “Daddy!” she squeaked and launched herself into his arms. Jaehyun laughed as he almost stumbled onto the floor, but his arms wrapped around his daughter tightly. 
“Come on, let’s get you to the car.” Jaehyun stood up carefully with his daughter still in his arms. As he walked, Jaehyun sucked in a deep breath before he told his daughter the bad news. “Subin, about tonight…”
The girl looked up at him with curious eyes. “What is it, Daddy?”
Jaehyun cleared his throat, trying to find the right words. “Well, I know how much you were looking forward to trick or treating tonight, and I was really excited too, but something came up at word.” He paused, gauging her reaction.
Subin’s smile faded, and her brows furrowed. “Do you have a meeting tonight, Daddy?”
Jaehyun’s heart felt like it was breaking off piece by piece. “I’m so sorry sweetheart, I tried to reschedule it for later, I really did, but it didn’t work out.” Jaehyun frowned, but his daughter smiled. 
“It’s okay, Daddy. Do you think you’ll be back to watch HalloweenTown with me?”
“I’ll do my best, okay? I promise I’ll make it up to you sweetheart.” Jaehyun promises. “Until I come back home, I asked the lady from the floor below us to watch you, you remember her, right?”
“The pretty lady you invite over every weekend? I remember her.” Subin nodded, unaware of how red her fathers ears had turned.
“She doesn’t come over every weekend.” Jaehyun mumbled, looking away from his daughter as they arrived in front of the car. 
“She does… Dohwa even asked me if she was my mom.”
“Oh…” he replied simply. Jaehyun stayed silent as he sat his daughter in the booster seat behind the passenger’s side, the thought almost consuming him. 
Dohwa asked if she was her mom…
After he clicked her seatbelt in, Jaehyun shut the door and headed for the driver’s seat, still entirely thinking of you… as a mother…
The man paused right as he was about to open the door when he felt the same stiffness from earlier, and he had to stop himself from screaming curses at the sky. Jaehyun closed his eyes and swallowed harshly before he opened his eyes and entered the car like nothing had happened to him.
“Daddy, can we listen…”
“Of course,” Jaehyun gave his daughter a smile through the rearview mirror. He knew exactly what the kid was asking for, and with a few presses of some buttons, the intro of the infamous ‘Let it Go’ from the Frozen soundtrack was blasting from the speakers, and Subin was belting out the words.
The rest of the ride was filled with more Frozen, which consisted of duets, the respective solo’s of both Jaehyun and Subin, and the booing of Hans whenever he sang in Love is an Open Door. 
Jaehyun had arrived at the condo building at 6:45pm, “Right on schedule,” he said to himself as he walked to the other side of the car to help his daughter out of the car. “Come on, sweetie,” he said, lifting her into his arms. With how adorable she was in her Elsa costume, he was determined to make it up to her for the missed trick or treating.
After a quick elevator ride, they reached his penthouse. The elegant, modern space was impeccably decorated, a reflection of Jaehyun’s refined taste. 
“What d’ya want to eat before the pretty lady gets here, Miss Elsa?” Jaehyun asks Subin, who was already halfway to the kitchen. He followed behind her and held the door open for her as she entered. “Goldfish…” she said hungrily, causing a laugh to escape from Jaehyun’s lips.
“Goldfish it is, then.” The man took a bowl from one of the cabinet’s before he scanned his pantry for the snack that was requested. While Jaehyun looked, he heard Subin squeal with excitement. A mix of confusion and concern churned through Jaehyun, so he tried to be quick with his search and found them on the top shelf. 
“Subin, I found them…” Jaehyun stopped in his tracks when his eyes found yours.
“Hey Jae,” you smiled, your insides twisting at his current state. He’d come from the office, you knew that already, but seeing him in that suit definitely messed with you a bit.
“Hey,” Jaehyun couldn’t help the way his heart raced at the mere sight of you. You were holding a neatly folded Anna costume in your arms, and the smile you gave him made his heart skip a beat. “You’re early.” he said. Although he looked quite distracted, Jaehyun still managed to pour Subin her goldfish and hand the bowl to her.
“Yeah, I just thought I’d come by a little early to see if Subin needed help with her costume.” Your innocence warmed Jaehyun and forced a smile onto his lips.
“That’s really thoughtful, thank you.’
“Don’t even mention it.” you said.
“Pretty lady, are you going to put your costume on now?” Subin interjected while she munched on the small crackers. 
Jaehyun shuddered lightly, realising his daughter had just watched that whole interaction, even though she probably didn’t register what was going on. 
At least that’s what you both hoped.
“Oh! Yes, yes, I will go do that. So, give me a few minutes, yeah?” you winked at her which earned you a big grin from the little girl.
“You can change in the guest bathroom.” Jaehyun blurts. “I’ll show you where it is.”
“Yeah, yeah, sounds good.”
Jaehyun walked out first, but it didn’t take long for you to catch up to him. You walked silently up the stairs and down the hall until you reached the room. 
“Let me know if you need anything,” he said.
You thank him before you enter the bathroom, one you’ve definitely seen before. You set the costume down on the counter and begin to undress. Everything was going well until it came down to actually doing up the back of the dress.
“Jaehyun?” you raised your voice ever so slightly, just to check if he was still there, and in a heartbeat there was a soft knock on the door. 
“You called?” His voice was a bit muffled from being on the other side of the door, but you opened the door, finding him leaning against the door frame. 
“Could you help me with this?” you asked with a hand across your chest to keep your dress from falling. 
Jaehyun looked away from your eyes, suddenly feeling very warm in the face and ears. “Yeah, could I come in?”
You moved so he had room to enter, and you shut the door almost immediately after and locked the door. Your back was facing Jaehyun, but you were watching him through the mirror. You felt bold until his dark eyes met yours in the reflection, and since then, his gaze didn’t leave yours.His heart raced as he looked into your eyes, and his fingers trembled slightly as he began to tie the strings at the back of your dress. 
The tension in the air only grew stronger as his fingers brushed lightly against your skin, and your breath hitched. You couldn’t help but steal a glance over your shoulder, meeting Jaehyun’s gaze once again.
“Done…” he gulped, holding your stare. It was a moment where words were no longer necessary, and the attraction between you two was undeniable.
Jaehyun leaned in closer, his lips brushed against the nape of your neck. Your heart raced, and you tilted your head slightly, granting him access to your skin. His kisses were gentle, sending shivers down your spine, and his arms which had wrapped around your waist, had become your new form of support. 
As he continued to trail soft, lingering kisses along your neck, Jaehyun whispered, “You’re making it hard for me to focus on anything other than you.”
You turn around to face him, your lips dangerously close to his. “Maybe that’s the point,” you replied with a mischievous glint in your eyes. 
With a surge of longing, Jaehyun closed the small distance between your lips and his. The kiss was passionate and electric, and yet still so familiar from the previous ones you’ve shared from almost every weekend for the past three months.
One of Jaehyun’s hands cupped your cheek as the other snaked down to your waist, pulling you in closer. He felt the heat of your body merge with his, and his heart raced as he deepened the kiss. Your hands were tangled in his hair, and the taste of his lips sent a wave of euphoria through your body. 
Jaehyun pulled away, but only slightly. His forehead was still pressed against yours, and he whispered, "I could kiss you like this forever."
Your lips curled into a small smile and you replied, "I wouldn't mind it."
With that, Jaehyun kissed you again, and this time it was more desperate, more passionate. He moved his lips hungrily against yours, exploring and tasting your mouth. You let out a soft moan as his hands moved to your lower back, and your kiss became more passionate.
His hands moved to the small of your back, and he lifted you up, your legs wrapping around his waist. You felt the warmth of his body against yours, and you melted into his embrace. 
He carried you to the counter, and sat you down on the cold marble, and your arms tightly wrapped around him. You could feel his heart pounding against your chest, and the intensity of the kiss was enough to make your head spin. You felt like you were in some kind of trance, and you welcomed it with all your heart.
With his hips in between your legs, you reached out your hand to palm his growing erection through his pants. Jaehyun pulled away from the kiss, letting his head fall back in pleasure.
“God, baby, I got hard twice today because of you.” You hummed in response, slowly undoing Jaehyun’s belt and freeing his cock from his boxers. Bringing your hand to your mouth, you spit into it before lubing up his dick with it.
You started to move your hand up and down, slowly stroking his shaft and Jaehyun let out a low moan. His eyes were closed and he was breathing heavily, his hips starting to move in time with your hand. 
Your hand closed over the tip, stroking it in circular motions before you moved your hand to jerk off the rest of his length. You increased the speed of your hand, Jaehyun's breathing getting heavier with each stroke. You could feel how hard he had gotten, and you smiled as you continued to pleasure him. Feeling your spit start to dry up, you started to use more of your hand, your fingers tracing circles around the head of his cock. Jaehyun's hands were gripping the material of your costume tightly, and you could feel his hips twitching with each of your strokes. 
You moved your hand faster, your thumb now rubbing circles around Jaehyun's most sensitive spot, and he let out a loud moan as he was about to cum, but before he could, a timer went off.
“Fucking christ,” You both sighed out of disappointment, and Jaehyun rested his forehead against yours.
"I have to go," he said, regretfully. He quickly fixed himself up and helped you off the counter.
“What if you’re still hard during your meeting, though?” You joke while your fingers toyed with his belt loops. 
He chuckled, and kissed you one last time before reluctantly pulling away.
“I’ll figure something out." You pouted, and he leaned in to give you one last peck on the lips before he grabbed his phone and unlocked the door. "I'll see you soon. I promise." He said before slipping out of the door. 
You sighed and smiled to yourself, savouring the moment. You felt more alive than ever.
Sliding off the counter, you turned and inspected your face to make sure you didn’t go back to Subin looking like a hot mess. 
“Pretty lady!” Subin yelled as you walked down the stairs. The young girl squealed as she ran to wait for you at the edge of the steps. She gushed at you once you had fully arrived in front of you. “You look so pretty!”
“Thank you sweetheart.” you said as you ruffled her hair. “Ready to go?” you asked her with a grin. Subin nodded frantically and grabbed your hand before she darted towards the elevator, her candy bag in the other hand waiting to be filled to the brim with treats.
“Trick or treating!” she cheered and jumped with excitement, and your heart warmed at the sight.
-
“Thank you so much for your time Gongmyung.” Jaehyun smiled as he shook the older man's hand. 
“Of course! The pitch was great, so our lawyers will be in contact with yours very shortly.” 
Jaehyun saw the man out of the smile and one final bow before he looked down at his watch. It was 9:30pm.
‘They should be home by now.’ Jaehyun thought as he got in his car and began to drive home. 
It only took him about twenty minutes to get home from the restaurant, and by the time he reached the penthouse, he found you sitting on the couch with his daughter sleeping peacefully next to you, her head resting on your thigh. 
“Hey,” you smiled up at him. Jaehyun mirrored your expression as he sat down next to you and wrapped an arm around your shoulders. 
“When did she pass out?” Jaehyun’s fingers drew circles against your arm as you leaned into him. 
“About an hour ago? She already brushed her teeth, we were just watching The Nightmare Before Christmas.” Jaehyun looked at you, his brows scrunched closer together.
“Is that not a Christmas movie?” 
“Tsk… no one knows what it is or isn’t.” you said, jutting out your bottom lip before Jaehyun pecked your cheek. “I think I’m gonna put Subin to bed… show me to her room?” You slowly moved in a way that wouldn’t disturb the little girl too badly, and you brought her to your chest and rested her head on your shoulder. Both you and Jaehyun stood and you cautiously walked up the stairs and down the hall. 
Jaehyun opened the door, revealing a baby pink room with toys and stuffed animals astray. 
“This room is so…”
“Scary?”
“Her,” you shot Jaehyun a dirty look which made him laugh. “Not too loud, idiot.” you scolded him when you felt Subin stir at the loud noise. Cradling her head, you ordered Jaehyun to pull her bed covers back. Gently, you set the girl down before tucking her in. You stepped back to watch Jaehyun crouch beside her head and plant a light kiss on forehead. He sat there for a few seconds, rubbing her cheek with his thumb. With one last peck goodnight, he got up and smiled softly at you before he took your hand in his and led you out of the room.
With the lights off in Subin’s room and her door shut, the two of you stood in the hallway, staring into each other’s eyes. 
“Thank you, again, for watching her.” Jaehyun stepped closer to you. You noticed how his tone dropped, how his hands squeezed yours gently, and how his eyes flickered from your eyes to your lips. 
“Like I’ve said, you don’t have to thank me… but you can show me your appreciation in a different way.” you teased and hooked your fingers around his belt loop like you did earlier.
Jaehyun smirked devilishly, leaning in to kiss your neck. His hands moved around your waist, dipping lower until he cupped your ass. 
As he trailed kisses along your neck, he paused to nibble and suck on your sensitive skin. His hands moved up your back, tugging your hips even closer to his. You felt your own arousal growing as his lips moved from your neck to your lips, his tongue pushing its way into your mouth. You moaned against his lips as your hands found their way into his hair, fingers curling around the strands of his hair. 
“We shouldn’t do this out here…” you said breathlessly, and Jaehyun groaned in agreement.
He pulled away and took your hand, leading you to the guest room. Your pulse was racing as he pushed open the door, and you both stepped inside. He pulled you close and kissed you deeply, while your hands moved to the back of his neck, tugging him in closer as your lips moved together in an urgent, passionate kiss. His hands travelled their way down your body, exploring your curves as you explored his. He trailed kisses down your neck, making you gasp as his teeth lightly grazed your skin. You groaned in pleasure as you felt his erection growing against your belly.
He grabbed your hair and pulled it back, his face hovering close to yours. "Tell me what you want," he growled.
You bit your lip and smiled, your desire rising with each passing second. You wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned in to whisper in his ear, "I need you to fuck me."
He groaned and pulled you closer, his hands roaming your body. His lips brushed against your ear as he responded in a chuckle, “Waited all day for you to say that to me.”
In an instant, Jaehyun brought you towards the bed, a fire raging in his eyes. You were both eager to get undressed, and you started with his shirt. You reached to undo the buttons of his suit and slowly started undoing them, never breaking away from his embrace. Jaehyun’s breaths were heavy and rushed as you finally released his shirt and pulled it off his body. 
His hands moved to your shirt and he proceeded to do the same with you, slowly pulling your shirt off and tossing it aside. He grabbed your waist and pulled you closer, his lips finding yours again. His hands were frantic as they roamed your body, the intensity of his kiss growing with each passing moment.
He leaned back and pulled you with him, the two of you standing there in nothing but your underwear. His eyes were ablaze with desire and he stepped forward, pushing you back onto the bed. He leaned over you and slowly trailed his lips down your body, his hands massaging your curves as he made his way down.
He pulled back and looked into your eyes, his own filled with a primal hunger. With one hand, he grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head, his lips finding yours again as the other hand found itself making its way down your navel, all the way to your pussy. His thumb took to your clit, drawing small circles on it.
The friction felt electric, you couldn’t help but shiver at his cold hands touching such sensitive parts. A soft moan escaped your lips as your hips involuntarily arched towards his touch. His thumb moved faster, increasing the intensity of the pleasure. You felt pleasure radiating through your body, slowly building to an unstoppable force. Your breathing became shallow, your heart raced, and all you could do was surrender to the sensations. His thumb began to move with more intensity, each circle growing wider and wider. His touch was gentle yet demanding, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your veins. The hand that had your wrists in a tight grip suddenly let go, but it moved to your hip and he grabbed firmly, steadying you as his thumb continued to bring you closer to the edge. 
You could feel his breath against your neck, his fingers digging into your hips as he moved them. Suddenly, he slapped you hard on your pussy and you gasped in surprise. The repeated action brought you close to tears. As your jaw hung open from a mix of surprise and pleasure, Jaehyun saw this as the perfect opportunity to do the thing you love. Hovering just slightly over your mouth, he let his saliva drop into your mouth, and he watched with a smirk as your jaw shut immediately, swallowing what he gave you. 
His tongue soon found its way into your mouth, and you tasted the bitterness of his spit as it mingled with yours. His hands moved with purpose, sending waves of pleasure cascading through your body. 
You could feel the anticipation building in your body, and you could barely contain the moans that escaped your lips. You were so close to the pinnacle of pleasure, and his touch was the only thing that could get you there.
“Fuck, Jae… oh fuck.” you said as a signal to him that you were cumming. If that didn’t tell him, then the way your body shook definitely did. 
Not long after you came, Jaehyun sat himself in between your legs. Both of his hands moved to your thighs, pushing them apart as he knelt in front of you. He looked up at you with pure adoration and started to kiss and lick your inner thighs. 
Jaehyun kept one arm around your hips while the other explored your pussy, fingering you slowly. You gasped and hissed in pleasure as he teased your sensitive areas. He moved his mouth to your pussy and started to lick and suck in a tantalising rhythm. His tongue moved in slow circles, alternating between soft and hard strokes. 
The arm he kept around your wait found itself lazily dragging from your waist, up to your breasts. His nimble fingers squeezed and teased your nipples, not helping the fact that you were trying to keep your voice down– even though you were several rooms down from his daughter.
The back of your hand moved to cover your mouth as you moaned, while the other grabbed his head, pushing him deeper into you. He bit down on your labia and licked the sensitive skin around your clit, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. Jaehyun moved his fingers inside you, pushing them in and out in a steady rhythm, his thumb finding the spot that sent sensations of pleasure through your body. 
He then began to massage your clit with his tongue, circling it slowly and then faster and faster until you felt your toes curl in anticipation. His hands moved down to your hips, holding you tightly as he increased the pressure and speed of his tongue. 
You felt your muscles tensing and your breathing becoming more rapid as you got closer to the edge. His fingers moved faster and faster, stimulating you in all the right places. You moaned and gasped as your orgasm finally overcame you, your body shaking in pleasure.
“Came so quick.” Jaehyun stated, slowly moving his mouth back up to yours and kissed you passionately, his tongue exploring your mouth as his hands moved to your waist. 
He grabbed your hips and spread your legs wider, pushing his hard cock inside of you. He moved slowly at first, letting out a guttural moan as he entered you. 
He moved his hips in a circular motion, pushing himself deeper into you as he felt your tight walls stretching around his thickness. He felt as if he was being consumed by a blanket of pleasure, and he loved the feeling of being completely surrounded by you. With each movement, you could feel him stretching you out further, and the sensation made his body tremble with delight. 
“Fuck, baby, you’re doing so fucking well.” His breathing quickened as he felt the sensation of being fully engulfed inside of you, and the sensation of pleasure coursing through his body. He felt as if he were melting into you, becoming one with you as he moved faster and faster. 
He added a new layer of pleasure to his movements, as he sucked and licked on your nipples while he continued to thrust. His tongue felt like velvet on your skin, teasing and tantalising you with every movement. His hands moved to your back, caressing it with every thrust. 
You grasped his shoulders tightly as the sensations built up inside, and you felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. Finally, you threw your head back and let out a loud moan as you reached your climax, your pleasure washing over you. Jaehyun’s breathing became heavier, and you could feel his muscles tense up, his whole body shaking with pleasure.
“Fuck baby…” Jaehyun groaned, looking down at your pussy. “You’re so fucking full.” he bit his lip to stop himself from showing his smile, but it was useless– Jaehyun was grinning from ear to ear with pride. He watched as his cum dripped out of you, but with two fingers, he took whatever had leaked and shoved it back into you.
“Hey,” you said, grabbing his attention with his fingers still inside of you. “You gonna fuck me full of your cum, or what?”
Jaehyun almost lost it. Asking that of him was not the smartest idea, considering the fact that he’d do anything you told him to.
“Is this you asking to have my second kid? We’re not even together.” He joked as he sat himself with his back against his headboard. 
You knew what that meant.
Getting on your knees, you crawled on top of him and positioned yourself above his still very hard cock.
“I could do both…” you say without another thought.
“Oh baby,” he said, voice more seductive than you’ve heard before. “I’ll fuck you so hard, you’ll get pregnant right away.” And with that, he thrust upwards, shoving his thick cock into you.
You exclaimed in surprise, eyes going wide, but your hands flew to his shoulder, stabilising yourself as he moved inside of you. He moved long and slow, his hips rolling against yours, and you felt your pleasure building with each thrust. He reached down and grabbed your ass, squeezing the soft flesh as began to pick up his pace. His breathing became ragged as he went deeper and deeper into you. 
His hands moved higher, gently caressing your breasts, his lips lightly sucking and licking them. His fingers moved lower, rubbing and teasing your clit, and his tongue licked and sucked your nipples.
“Fuck, just look at you, your fucking tits bouncing…” he mumbled, his mouth watering at the sight. “Gonna get you pregnant with my baby, and your tits are gonna be so fucking big.” Jaehyun moaned at the thought. You felt his tongue flick against your nipples, and you gasped in pleasure as he teased them with his mouth.
As he sucked on your nipples, Jaehyun started to pick up the pace, pushing himself in and out of you. His hips moved in a perfect rhythm, each thrust sending a wave of pleasure through your body. You felt your eyes roll to the back of your head, and your breath coming in ragged gasps. 
You could feel the heat building inside you as he continued to move. His hand moved down, rubbing against your clit as he moved, sending pleasure coursing through your veins. His thrusts were getting harder, and faster, and you could feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.
Just then, he pulled out of you and flipped you over onto your back. He stared into your eyes, holding your gaze as he penetrated you again. “Fuck Jaehyun, I need your cum.” You whined. His thrusts were more forceful now, and you could feel yourself moaning louder and louder as he continued to move inside of you.
He then started to move one of his hands up and down your body, playing with your nipples and lightly caressing your breasts. His tongue lapped at them, and you felt your body tense up as he sucked on them. He moved the other hand down to your clit again, rubbing it in circles as he moved inside of you. 
“Need to get you so fucking full.” Jaehyun spoke aimlessly as he fucked your cunt, his thrusts growing harsher by the second. You hummed at his words, equally as brainless as he was from the stimulation. 
You felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, and Jaehyun increased his thrusts, pushing himself deeper inside of you. He grabbed your hips and held you tight, pushing himself deep inside of you. You screamed out in pleasure, your orgasm ripping through your body, and he followed shortly behind, his body shaking in pleasure.
His moans grew louder and his thrusts became more intense, the pleasure becoming too much for him to handle. He felt his orgasm build up inside of him, and as he reached the peak, he let out a cry of pure ecstasy. Jaehyun slowly pulled out of you before he laid beside you.
Turning to face him, you both lay there for a few moments, your breathing ragged and your hearts pounded in your chests.
“I meant what I said…” Jaehyun said, his thoughts now cleared from his prior state of mind. “About being together. The baby too, but that can come later.”
“I like that idea,” you hummed and pressed your lips to his.
3K notes · View notes
rebeccccccaaa · 9 days
Text
Poker Face!
_______________
Spencer Reid x Reader
:: It’s game night at Rossi’s, a little pasta al dente, poker chips from Emily’s place, and a little too much Italian red wine. Poker after hours becomes a new playing field when you and Spencer decide to finish your game of blackjack back in his place. ::
:: warnings :: smuttt! and super mushy gushy fluff, sex under the influence (both parties drank alcohol), strip poker (kinda you’re playing blackjack), afab!reader, no mention of contraceptives oops...
:: authors’ notes :: i didn’t realize until i finished the story that spencer probably has his own poker set, he’s literally from vegas; anyway thanks for all the love on my last fic too sweet, hope you guys enjoy this one just as much <3
WC~ 3.1 k
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“Ok, ok! That’s enough!” Emily shouted, swinging her glass around. 
“Careful, Prentiss. This carpet is fine Italian wool. Gifted from my first mother-in-law,” Rossi scolded, Hotch chuckling beside him. 
“You guys are relentless,” she continued.
“I can beat him, I know it!” you shouted, your eyes comically wide. 
“No shot, sweetheart. Reid is literally banned from every casino in Vegas, you think you can really beat him?” Derek commented.
“I may not be banned from Vegas casinos, but I never lose Blackjack,” you argued.
“Honey, you’ve lost eight games in a row!” JJ shouted, laughing and holding her stomach. 
“Nevermind that! I’m gonna beat you Reid, if it's the last thing I do,” you narrowed your eyes playfully at Spencer, who sat as dealer with a giant grin on his face.
“I hate to interrupt this incredibly captivating game of Blackjack, but I’m kicking you out. It's late and an old man’s got to get some rest,” Rossi interrupted, erupting a series of ‘Boo’s’ and groans. 
“Come on, come on. Call your DD’s, call your taxi cabs. Or if you want to stay, you can start washing the dishes,” he bargained. 
Suddenly, all at once, everyone stood up practically scrambling and giggling like kids to avoid cleaning up. Penelope, Emily, and Derek hopped into a cab and Hotch drove JJ home then himself considering he hadn't anything to drink that night. That left you and Spencer, lingering on the sidewalk nudging each other in a fit of giggles. 
“I assume you’re gonna take a cab?” he asked you.
“That’s the plan.”
“So we can share since I don’t live far from you. I’ll walk from your place,” he suggested. 
“Oh no, no. Look what I snatched when everyone started leaving,” you pulled out the briefcase of poker chips that Emily had brought for that night out of your tote, “We’re going to your place and finishing what we started.” 
“Oh boy, you have no idea how long it's gonna take. We’re gonna be up all night!” Spencer laughed, and you gasped. 
“You’re an asshole,” you shoved him, before calling a taxi.
You squeezed in the back of the cab, legs bumping against each other. You felt your skin light up, you’ve always felt a certain way about Spencer. I mean who wouldn’t? Well actually, not a lot of people. You always tried to hide the pangs of jealousy or your faces of reluctance whenever the women you were working with or interviewed on cases would flirt with him, unnecessarily albeit. This happened more often than you care to admit or notice. 
You walked into Spencer’s apartment, tossing your bag on the couch before falling to your knees and putting the briefcase on his coffee table. You opened it up and began shuffling the cards, quite intensely to make sure Spencer wasn’t going to cheat. You knew he wasn’t, his brain was too smart, but you did it for confidence instead. 
“Do you want anything to drink?” he asked from the kitchen.
“Whatcha you got?” you asked.
“I’ve got a couple of beers, probably a little old. Oh, I still have the bottle of wine that Rossi gave to us for the new year,” he told you.
“Oh! Bring the wine! We’ll drink the beers later,” you winked at him, “Let’s get the fucking party started.”
It was late into the night now. You lost count how many times you’d lost to Spencer already. Just a couple of hours passed, and the wine was almost finished. You and Spencer couldn’t stop laughing and wiggling around. As Spencer shuffled the deck, a request you made him do after every turn, you came up with a devilish idea. One that would definitely get you in trouble should the outcome be anything other than what you would hope. 
“Ooh,” you cooed, mischievously.
“What?” Spencer questioned.
“Oh, nothing, just had an idea,” you were smirking, or rather trying really hard not to burst into laughter. 
“This can’t be good,” he mumbled, shaking his head. 
“Why don’t we spice things up, shall we?”
“No, no way,” Spencer already knew what you were going to say. 
“Strip Poker!” 
“No!” he shouted, a big smile on his face contradicting his words.
“What, you scared? Scared that suddenly I’m starting to beat you and you’re gonna have to take all your clothes off?” you teased.
“No, I am a gentleman and I’m not gonna sit through watching you take all your clothes to prove a point,” he argued sassily.
“You are way too confident for your own good, Dr. Spencer Reid. You’re just chicken.”
“Ok, fine then. You dealer, or am I?” he asked, pouring the last bit of wine into your cup. 
“Why don’t you hit me this time,” you said. 
“You got it,” he responded, “Care to shuffle while I grab the beers?”
“Of course. About time we crack those open,” you smiled widely. 
Now sitting down, face to face. Staring intensely at each other for a moment, hints of mischief and amusement in both your eyes. As you shuffled the cards well, Spencer couldn’t help notice the way your eyes were practically sparkling in the warm light of his apartment. How soft your skin looked in the light too. He doesn’t know when it happened. If it happened just now, or maybe he’s always felt this way about you. 
Maybe it was those times where he felt a little more protective over you than the others on more brutal cases. The feeling of responsibility for you, to guide you, when you first join the team since you were the same age. Or maybe it was when you let him practically talk your ear off about peculiar facts regarding the case you had wrapped up. The small smile of your face knowing he thrived in these moments. The sweet giggle you let out when Morgan and Prentiss groaned knowing he would begin yet another tangent. 
Yeah, it was definitely then he realized how special you were and how much he wanted to keep you in his life; in more ways than one.
But in this moment, when you handed him the cards with the most devilish smirk on your face, Spencer felt a wave of avidity, longing for you more than he ever has before. He felt so conflicted about the game you were about to play. He respected you so much and yet craved to see you, to have you, in this very way for so long already. He didn’t know what to do. He dealt the cards however, entertaining the idea, and you tapped the table for cards before taking a big swig of your beer.
“Fuck,” you muttered under your breath, Spencer’s breath hitched. 
You took off your earrings first and Spencer quirked an eyebrow. 
“What? Were you expecting me to take off my shirt right away?”
“No,” he shrugged before giving you the deck to shuffle again. 
“I swear to-” you cursed, pulling off one of your rings this time.
Your shoes came off, then your socks. All your accessories were scattered on the table before you. The last game you stood up unbuttoning your pants. Spencer clenched his jaw, averting his eyes downward as you peeled your pants down your legs. It took quite literally everything in him to not drool over you. You sank back down to the ground, the bottom half of your body shielded by the table and Spencer looked back at you again. He dealt the cards. You asked for a card, and Spencer knew then you would lose. The probability was certain. When he hit Blackjack and you didn’t, Spencer gulped and you sighed in defeat. 
Staring boldly at Spencer, you disrobed your last garment that would give you some kind of modesty. Your bra is on full display with nothing else but your pair of underwear. You had a crucial decision to make if you ended up losing again and you were seriously considering that would be the case, the butterflies erupting violently in your belly. 
“We don’t have to keep going,” Spencer cleared his throat.
“And why would I do that?” Maybe it was the alcohol in your system that gave you this sudden courage, this seduction. You were starting to have fun seeing Spencer squirming on the couch, the bobbing of his Adam’s apple. You suddenly wanted to egg this round on as long as you can. 
“Ok, then,” he muttered, as he dealt the cards, slowly this time.
Spencer had a face down card, assuming it was a value of ten like always, and an eight. You had a seven and a three, you were fucked. You needed an ace and you’d hit blackjack, or you could build up; but that’s risky. Maybe Spencer can go over. You had a chance, you know it. Your chest was moving fast and shallow, but your face was stoic and firm. Spencer on the other hand was antsy; his eyes frantic and his leg bouncing. You knew he was staring at your chest. You planned to use it to your advantage. Was it fair game? Yeah, yeah it was. It wasn’t your fault he was distracted.
“Hit me,” you egged.
“You got it,” he responded. 
A five. Fuck. 
Spencer hit himself and he drew a seven. Those are bad cards. He most likely went over and you might actually finally beat him. 
“One more time, boy wonder,” you snapped. A six. A beautiful six of hearts. 
“I stand,” he mutters, probably knowing he lost. 
“Let’s see those cards, baby,” you teased.
“You first,” he told you, and placed your cards. 
“Blackjack, baby!” 
Spencer laid his cards revealing his seven and eight and underneath a nine, he busted; the cards of course. You won, you finally won. You jumped up in celebration, prancing in your undergarments around the room giggling and cheering. 
“I did it! I fucking did it! I beat the boy genius, fair and fucking square! You lose Spencer, loser!” you shouted taunting him and he couldn’t help the smile painted in his blushing face; he almost forgot you were prancing around almost naked in the middle of his apartment. 
“I- I was distracted,” he shuttered. 
“Damn right you were,” you joked, squeezing your breasts to flaunt them in his face. 
“It wasn’t fair game,” he bantered.
“It wasn’t fair game, my ass. I won and you lost, and you’re being a sore loser,” you mocked as you walked towards him like a panther, playfulness and seduction dripping from your tongue. 
Spencer took the moment you walked near and grabbed your wrist yanking you to stumble into his lap. You were shocked, surprised, a little turned on. You held onto his shoulders, your breathing a little quicker than before. You tried to convince yourself it was from the celebratory dance and not the growing bulge from Spencer that poked you from beneath. 
“I told you, I was distracted,” he told you, his hands finding a place at their hips. Fingers caressing delicately the hem of your underwear. 
“Blah, blah,” you whispered.
“Don’t give me that.”
“Now, Spence, I believe there is something you have to do, is there not?” you whispered.
“What’s that?” he bantered.
“You lost.”
“Right, unfairly I might add,” he joked.
“If all you’re gonna do is talk, then let me do the honors,” you told him. 
“Be my guest.”
Your fingers pulled gently at his tie he wore, pulling over his head and tossing it to the side on the floor. You started unbuttoning his shirt, Spencer staring with heavy eyes at you as you did so.
“I thought we were only taking off one item. We should play another round then if you want my shirt off,” he teased you, bringing his hands to gently hold your wrists.
“Like that’s gonna happen,” you rolled your eyes playfully. 
Spencer relaxed against the back of the couch as you unbutton his shirt all the way. You brought your lips down to kiss softly at his collarbones and his shoulder. Moving along his chest to kiss the other side. His hands moved slowly against your hips, fingers sliding between the fabric of your underwear and your skin. Your skin erupted in chills, a tingle running through your spine making your ears feel hot. You dragged your nose along his strong jawline before nipping your teeth playfully against his cheek. 
He brought his hands up, fingertips tracing your spine until he reached your bra. He skillfully unhooked it leaving you a bit breathless for just a second but a second too long. You could feel it, without even needing to look at him, to know he had such a teasing smile on his gorgeous face. You wanted nothing more than to kiss it off him. 
You shrugged your bra off, tossing behind him giving him a playful wink which made him chuckle. You brought his hands to your breasts as you pulled his head towards you by the back of his neck to kiss him feverishly. Something you both had wanted to do for quite some time now. You wiggled your hips a bit, feeling the prodding against your center, which made Spencer groan lowly in the kiss; his hands squeezing your breasts hard in discomfort. 
“Fuck, you’re gonna drive me insane,” he told you.
“Let me say hi to your little friend, Spence. Or do you want to play for that too?” you taunted him.
“God, no. I couldn’t wait a whole other hour for you to beat me again,” he bantered making you scoff and roll your eyes; his hands shot straight to his zipper to pull his pants down just enough for the both of you. 
You were practically itching to get your panties off. Standing up suddenly, both you and Spencer reached instinctively to pull them off you, his lips attaching themselves to your soft belly and hips. He freed himself from the constricting fabric of his pants and pulled you down, or rather yanked you to him. You couldn’t help the bubbly laugh that came from you making Spencer smile blissfully. 
You bite your lip as you reach between your bodies, lining Spencer up against you perfectly. The warmth radiating from you was driving him crazy. It took everything in him to not suddenly take control and rut his hips against you. You sank slowly down on his length, not so little, you thought yourself.
“Oh jeez, I feel like I could come already,” you gasped, the pressure building in the pit of your stomach felt already overwhelming. Maybe it was the fact you hadn’t had sex in years. You felt starved of this kind of touch, this kind of intimacy. The kind of feeling of Spencer’s cold fingertips touching and gliding across your skin like you were glass. Yeah, that was the feeling you didn’t know you needed, you didn’t realize you craved so much until this very moment. 
“I’m a bit embarrassed to admit the same,” he chuckled breathlessly, “If you don’t start moving, I’m not gonna be able to hold myself back any longer.”
You took this as the green light to start rocking your hips back and forth. One hand resting against his cheek and the other stabilizing yourself against the frame of the couch. Spencer’s hands rocked with you, his way of helping and understanding the rhythm you were going. He started, with gaining confidence, to buck his hips into you and that’s when the pleasure began to build. You panted heavily above him, moans every now and then escaping your mouth to echo against the walls of Spencer’s small apartment. 
“Shit. You feel so good,” he breathed out, “I thought I’d last longer.”
“Please, please don’t come yet,” you begged; bringing your forehead to his. You could see his skin becoming shiny with sweat, his cheeks flush with redness. Spencer, determined to make you come before him, or at the very least with him, reached between your thighs rubbing fast and swift circles against your clit. Your hips jerked with pleasure and Spencer’s name dripped from your lips like honey. 
“Oh, that’s it,” Spencer whispered. His free hand came up and pulled you in a passionate and sloppy kiss. His tongue entwined with your and you moaned wildly as did he. His brain was fuzzy, not that your’s wasn’t also, with the sounds of sex, the rhythm of your hips, the warmth of your slick soaking his fingers. 
“I’m close, fuck I’m so close, Spence,” you whined.
“Let go, sweetheart.”
“Ngh!” you moaned loudly. You dipped your head forward resting your forehead in the crook of his neck. Your bodies were so close, your bare chests pressed against each other. You both could feel the other’s breath and slowly you began to match each other’s erratic rhythm the closer you got to your climaxes. You messily pressed your lips against Spencer’s one last time before the wave of electrifying pleasure overcame you. 
When you came down from your high, all you could feel and hear in that moment was Spencer. His soft pants brushing your ear, his arms cradling you close, his subtle leg shaking from what you assume was him also coming with you. 
“That was really good,” you giggled.
“It really was,” he agreed.
“I’m gonna tell everyone about this,” you whispered wickedly. 
“What?” Spencer questioned fearfully. 
“I beat you in Blackjack,” you reminded him, making him laugh loudly. 
“Give it a rest you would?” he sighed. 
“No way. I’m gonna tell everyone. And everyone’s gonna tease you because I beat you fair and square. Unless, you wanna admit that my boobs were distracting you from your card counting tricks,” you teased.
“Alright, you won fair and square,” he smiled blissfully at you, his eyes soft and gentle in the warm light.
You giggled sweetly bringing him in a tender kiss, definitely not for the last time that night. Your bodies were entwined for the rest of the night until the tepid sunrays peaked meekly through the curtains of Spencer’s bedroom window. The two of you sharing giggles between the sheets with his arms embracing you the way they had been all night. Needless to say, blackjack continues to be your favorite poker game. Especially now more than ever. 
1K notes · View notes
satoruhour · 4 months
Note
Just thought of something FREAKY in class… Single father Satoru looking for a babysitter and you’re looking for a side income during semester break and the tension goes crazy!!!! “We should’t be doing this my son will wake up” I’M GONNA SCREAMMMM
BLISS, PURE BLISS
a/n: happy new year LMFAOOO. thank you for all the asks btw i promise ill answer them asap 🥹 / @shotorus @osaemu @shidouryusm @mysugu @hyomagiri ♱
wc: 6.4k
warnings: ‘onee-san’ used but more of just addressing reader as an older figure because saying babysitter is kinda weird lol (kind of like how chinese people use 姐姐 even if they are not related), fem!reader, dilf!gojo, age gap (gojo in his late 30s, reader in mid-20s), angst if u squint, bit of slow burn n tension, making out, use of ‘slut’ and ‘whore’, praise, oral (f! receiving) / cunnilingus, clit stimulation, unprotected sex, p -> v sex, multiple rounds, consensual filming, creampie / breeding kink, n*sfw under the cut
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“no fucking way . .” you mumble mostly to yourself, standing in front of the largest house of the gated community in roppongi, and while you knew the people here were excessively and obnoxiously rich, you’re never quite prepared until you’re getting a key card specifically mailed to your name just so you could enter.
you’re not even shameful when you take a video to send to your best friends, locking your screen almost immediately because you knew you’d never get to the job on time if you replied to them. with calculated steps, you’re walking up the house that’s designed with a modern structure, yet still retaining characteristics of a traditional japanese home. it’s less prominent at the front of the house, though.
“(y/n)-san, was it?” a voice startles you out of your ogling sessions. if the garden was already this nice, what would be in store for you when you went in? you’ll be finding out soon when your employer himself opens the door to you, a man with striking white hair and equally striking blue eyes that seem to look right into you. he’s dressed in a suit, probably no doubt ready to get to work while you’re out here taking your time. you cringe, immediately walking up to the door.
“y-yes! yes, i’m sorry sir, i was just uhm—”
he holds that intimidating stare just for a moment but then he breaks into a smile that mirrors the bright sun that shines down on the porch.
“it’s alright . . it’s not everyday you’re working at some rich guy’s house, right?” he jokes but that strikes a little ick into you — he’s already ticking the boxes of obnoxious and excessively rich, but you hate the effect he’s having on you.
“yeah . . no, i guess,” he hums in reply before sticking a hand out.
“gojo satoru,” he introduces himself, “call me anything but that sir shit, alright, doll?”
you nod obediently, trying not to let the little pet name get to your head because he probably does this to any babysitter who comes through the house, but either way, he’s welcoming you in and it’s like you step into a world unreal. it’s spotless, the floors shining under the sunlight, a large television in the living room, a spacious open concept dining-kitchen area, and this is just the first floor.
gojo takes his time to show you the house — where his kid’s toys were, where the food was, where the bathrooms and bedrooms were, it was never-ending. every step you took made you feel like you were walking the length of the nile, each turn only revealing more rooms and corridors.
and then, finally, his baby boy.
“he’s a cheeky one, takes after his dad,” even with all the cockiness he’s shown to you, you can tell he has a soft spot for his kid. the boy stirs from his father’s voice, gleaming in happiness as he puts out his smaller hands to be picked up. as he settles into his arms, it’s just sinking in how tall your employer is. he makes a toddler look like a baby with how small his son looks wrapped snugly.
“satoshi, hi,” he whispers, bouncing the kid in his arms, “want to say hi to your onee-san?”
you manage a small wave but all he does is turn to hide in his father’s arms, definitely scared from a random stranger suddenly talking to him.
“she’s going to be taking care of you for the next month or so, you know?” he mumbles, brushing a hand through the matching white hair, “be nice to the babysitter, okay?”
all satoshi does is hum into his dad’s neck before he’s giving you a sheepish smile. “he’s like that, don’t worry about him.” and you return the smile, thinking that he wasn’t that obnoxious that you thought and that maybe he’s really a dad trying his hardest for his one kid. you realise he’s taking too much time, though, and so you sought out to remind him.
“oh, uh sir— gojo-san, don’t you have to go to work?”
although he’s mentioned satoshi to be taking after him, the boy goes right back to sleeping when he’s put back into his bed so you follow gojo as he adjusts his cuffs and smoothes out his collar just outside the room and you make the mistake of glancing upon the mirror on the far end of the corridor — it was undeniable that you looked like a high-end couple who’s newly married and raising a kid. you try to shake off the thoughts of adjusting his tie for him.
“it’s not being late if you’re on top.” he smirks and you resist the urge to roll your eyes; at least you weren’t alone in purging the delusional thoughts from your head, he was basically helping you at this point and you struggle between characterising him as conceited and admirable. “but, yeah, i should get going.”
but he stands at the door with backpack slung onto one shoulder while he continues to explain satoshi’s routines to you, his habits and also had to sneak in a few cute photos of the kid while squealing repeatedly and you’re left wondering how this guy could be the CEO of a company.
it’s been like that for as long as you can remember — bidding goodbye to your parents as you tell them that you’re off to your part-time job over the winter break. they’re happy you’re even leaving the house, shoving your lunch into your hands with big smiles that you’re at least doing anything other than sitting in your room. the train ride to the gated residential was nice, too, apart from the very crowded subways for people going to work in roppongi.
gojo greets you every morning when you arrive, reminding you of satoshi’s feeding times and his favourite shows and everything a father should know but don’t have the luxury to experience with aforementioned kid. it’s a little bittersweet, every time you see him kiss satoshi goodbye that turns into remaining in his room, to holding your hand and saying goodbye to daddy from the second floor, to getting carried by you at the front door.
it’s slow but sure progress day after day, from watching his cartoons, feeding him at the kitchen island, playing with his toys, that satoshi feels more and more comfortable with you, learning that while he was a well-behaved boy, he definitely had hints of your employer in him. mannerisms, words, voice, you wonder whether he even got any part of his mother in his genes.
you’d never ask, though, but it was told. unexpectedly.
“i’m home—” the last parts of his word die down into a whisper when he opens the door to see satoshi cuddled up to you, the last bits of home alone playing softly. by now you already know what happens in the movie so you’re texting your friends and laughing softly to yourself, jumping when your boss steps past the doorway. gojo winces when he checks his watch (“fuck. it’s already ten.”), toeing his shoes off and apologising simultaneously.
“oh— man, i’m so sorry, i had a late meeting with the CEO of our neighbouring franchise, i totally forgot about the time—” gojo’s quick to make his way down to the small pit of the house (he likes to call it the conversation pit), settling down on the side where satoshi had his head in your lap as his eyes linger on the movie. instinctively, his hands reach to pat his leg.
“oh, it’s okay, gojo-san, it’s the holidays anyway.”
“yeah?” he turns to you, one arm propped on the back of the sofa, “and why don’t a pretty girl like you have any plans?”
that catches you off-guard, among the many other times he’s called you pretty or sweets like no care in the world. you’re never quite used to it, too, seeking to fluster you. “you shouldn’t say stuff like that to me, gojo-san . .”
“why not?” he’s turned back to the television, now, and you take his place, staring at his side profile as the scenes of the movie move along his face. “i’m a single dad, aren’t i?”
“yeah but . . you could have anyone.”
“what if,” he turns and you chicken out, head snapping back to the front while he watches you and the both of you cannot deny the tiring dance you perform around each other all the time. the clench in his heart when he sees you carry his baby boy at the porch and the small smile he gives you every morning before he leaves for his job. he doesn’t want to go through with it and sighs.
it’s become hard to breathe around you. it’s become hard to hold himself back around you.
“i worked too much.” he suddenly says, facing the TV again. “i was too engrossed and . .”
confusion seeps in at first. yeah, it was no secret he worked his ass off despite being at the very top. your gaze falls to satoshi, curling more into your side like he’s cold and you adjust the blanket. you nod in recognition.
“we fought a lot. i tried— i tried to alter my schedule as much as i could, driving to and fro whenever she needed me, bringing satoshi to work as a baby when we couldn’t come to a compromise, but it was a lot. for her, for satoshi. he could sense whenever we were about to fight, on edge voices, items clattering to the floor . .”
by now, he’s leaned back, back of his hand resting on his forehead, “and he’d cry like he was interrupting us. cheeky, i told you,” and his eyes close, “we hardly reached middle ground. it was either this or that, hire a nanny or we take care of him, my endless job or the joy of life. i’m ashamed that i’ve prioritised my job more, and still do it now.”
“if you didn’t, i wouldn’t be here, would i?”
that draws a chuckle out of him, “correct.”
“she couldn’t take it, not when she was a businesswoman on top of that. she was out doing herself at every aspect in her job, going to greater heights, and while she accused me of putting work first, she isn’t entirely innocent, either. but that’s . .”
“you don’t have to say anything, gojo-san,” you mumble as you watch the reunion of the characters in the movie before the screen cuts the black, no doubt affecting him in some way at the warmth displayed by the movie that contrasts heavily with his situation, “the fact that you even told me is . .”
the heavy atmosphere is disrupted by satoshi gasping, “papa! you’re home.”
you exchange awkward smiles as you watch the boy fight his way out of the blanket to hug gojo, the latter huffing when the boy drops his body weight on him and you take it as a sign to give them a bit of privacy, standing up to clean up the popcorn and cups. laughter and your employer’s voice resonate throughout the place even as they go up the stairs, a rare occasion where gojo is able to get his son ready for bed.
it’s only maybe an hour later when the house falls into silence. mouth burning from the mouthwash, the heater in satoshi’s room turned to a high setting, one bedtime story was read (which, he fell asleep halfway), the boy was out like a light. you felt it inappropriate to leave without at least saying goodbye, but you also didn’t want to cut into their time together; at least, that’s what you told yourself.
so you waited with your things on the kitchen island, getting a risky text just as gojo comes down, still in his suit from work.
[11:02pm, nobara -> you] BITCH GET THAT DICKKKKK!!!!!!! 
and you yelp softly, slamming your phone down onto his marble counter. thankfully, he doesn’t notice, eyes close to shutting from fatigue. 
“oh, shit, you’re still here?”
“i thought it would be, weird, if i didn’t say goodbye,” you get ready to leave, slinging your tote bag on, “but i also didn’t want to intrude on your time with satoshi, limited as it is.” well, you did also wish something would happen, but you had too much pride to admit it to yourself.
“you got a ride home?” he yawns and you feel guilty for extending your stay already. you didn’t even need to worry about the front door, he lived in a gated community for christ’s sake!
“um, not really, but i can always book an uber home.”
“i’ll drive you home, it’s unsafe,” is all he says like he’s trying to convince himself, “let me just get changed and we can go.”
gojo doesn’t leave you any room to protest before he’s up the stairs again and you’re left with a pounding heart and dizzy head, not sure what might ensue. you know him to be honourable; you’ve seen him with his child, you’ve seen him interact with his neighbours, but a late ride with your boss sounds sketchy as it is.
but it doesn’t feel like it when you feel the tokyo wind blowing through your hair, a slight gap in the window bringing you the chills of the night as he silently drives you back home. sitting in your employer’s car most of all felt weird, but even more so when he’s reaching your home faster than the gps system had predicted. his knuckles are white.
“you—”
your head snaps to him, “yes?”
his car headlights are the brightest in the parking lot where every car is silent, quiet, much like his clammy hands and red cheeks. gojo satoru turns to you, feeling that familiar tug in his heart and lump in his throat for the first time in a while, and he can’t speak.
but you lean forward like your life depends on it and you leap inwardly when you see that he does the same. eyes trained forward, your stares boring into the other, waiting to see who’d close their eyes first. you just stop short of an inch, met with the hypnotising swirls of raging oceans in gojo’s eyes and you swallow when his eyes flit down to your lips and back up like he wouldn’t get caught.
with shaking hands, your fingers trace over his lips and you sigh when you feel just how soft they are, just like his skin, just like his eyes when they look at satoshi. your heart skips a beat when he just lightly kisses the pads of your fingers, and that encourages you to cradle his cheek, up his jaw, up his undercut.
“let’s just kiss, yeah?” he was afraid that if he spoke too loud, he’d shatter the glass, snap the string of tension, voice cracking until you swallow it, you stomach his nervousness with a lively, strong kiss from your lips to his, and he just melts.
gojo hums into the kiss, leaning forward over the stick shift and into the passenger seat before you counter it with your own movements: hand on his shoulders and pushing until you’re on his space of the driver’s seat and playing the game of tug that’s been going on for the past few weeks. you win.
“god, you’re so . .” gojo whines out when you climb onto him, whispering into your mouth while you get comfortable in your straddling position, cutting him off with a second, rougher kiss and you both moan softly, passion taking over in the evident way your arms scramble to wrap around him while he pulls you flush against his front.
the car is filled with sounds of your kissing, something that definitely shouldn’t be done in his home and yet you risk it all in your home’s parking lot. you break the kiss and hide in his neck, already starting the makings of a hickey there while your pelvis selfishly grinds into his front and he kneads your ass. in the mingling of breaths and moans, he’s left to stop the two of you when there’s a muffled ringtone coming from your bag and you swallow at the insanity of the situation.
“i’ll see you, monday, right?” gojo breathlessly says later, bulge still showing through his sweats while you hang outside the driver’s side, not wanting to leave. he takes your hand, planting a peck on it and then brings you in for another harmless kiss.
“yeah, gojo-san . . monday.”
you lose count of how many times you’ve swallowed throughout the night, but he says something to lift the mood just a bit.
“we just made out and you’re still calling me by my last name?”
you laugh lightly, “monday, satoru. i’ll be there, same time, on monday.”
gojo leaves a farewell kiss to the inside of your wrist, “attagirl.”
 but if you’re not careful, it might just happen in satoru’s house.
the remainder of your employment at his house is tiring. it’s so hard not to kiss him before he leaves for work, so difficult not to long for him while you take care of satoshi, so entirely harrowing not to claim him as yours as you watch him play after his work. at this point, you’re hoping school will just start soon and the rush of assignments and readings will take your mind off of it, but you cannot deny the excitement every time you leave your house.
“you’ll bring food and cook every monday, wednesday, friday, and i’ll order food for the both of you every tuesday and thursday, how’s that?” gojo thinks it’s time to introduce him to larger pieces of food, but it’s gone past that by now and to your meal arrangements.
“i’m okay with cooking, though!” you assure him, and plus, you loved your parents’ home cooked bentos that they give you everyday, “do we gotta?”
“sorting out meals is tiring, (y/n),” gojo takes the place beside you, leaning against the counter just like you before drinking out of his cup, “i want to at least help at little.”
“you already are.” you smile, “i can see you making the effort.”
“it’s not enough, though, i could be doing better.”
gojo hates how this scene sets up — like two parents just figuring out the best for their kid — it’s a callback to the memory in the same exact kitchen. at least all you do is kiss and make out, because he wouldn’t know what to do if you moan out his name in that same intimate way that threatens his walls to come down again. he loved sex, he loved the bedroom, but he’s riding a thin line the way he’s doing with you.
“you are,” is everything that you say, and you leap forward to kiss him. you do it so hard that he has to put down the glass to fully embrace you, walking you backwards to the conversation pit and he carries you so effortlessly because he doesn’t want you walking backwards down some stairs.
he hates how you bring him into your lips, he hates how gently he lays you down, and he hates how you accept the kisses down your neck and body. you, on the other hand, aren’t doing so well, either — it’s either a hit or miss with a broken man like gojo satoru, and you’re stepping on glass shards hoping you don’t say anything wrong with him because he’s trying his best but he just can’t see it.
“are you okay with this?” he asks halfway down your torso and he gets lightheaded from how well his hands cover your waist. “tell me to stop, and i’ll stop.”
“n-no . . keep going, satoru.”
he exhales shakily at that, fingers tugging your top up and his hands are so cold you resist shivering, but you do anyway from the sheer fucking craziness that gojo drives you into. one pop of your button, and you’re already lifting your hips off the couch for him to remove your pants but movement on the stairs make you halt.
“papa?” satoshi calls out sleepily, rubbing his eyes and pouting. you can see it, almost, with how much time you’ve spent with the kid, and you hope he can’t see you. “i . . i had a nightmare and i just— i wanna sleep with you.”
he’s started sniffling and you feel your heart break that he knows his papa well enough to know he would never sleep in his room. his job always has him sleeping out in the living room.
go. you mouth, kissing your fingers and pressing it to his lips before he puts on a show — yawning, stretching his arms, already making satoshi feel at ease with his theatrics before he’s stopping at the foot of the stairs to look back at you. you already know gojo satoru has redeemed himself a hundred times over. i’ll see you tomorrow. 
funnily, satoshi somehow does have some intervention powers, because each time the both of you attempt to go down on each other, he’s either saying he threw up, or he needs to use the toilet, or that he’s hungry. while you both love him to death, it’s also becoming difficult to hold back each time you see each other. his car in your parking lot is all he has and you dare not to go to his workplace where rumours would spark.
so after a tiring night of getting a hyper satoshi to sleep, you’d at least try. at this point, you know not to expect too much out of it, starting always with some talking. it was easy to talk to your boss, and when you phrase it like that, it did come off a little strange, but it was far from that when your boss in his late 30s looked just like he did ten years ago and that he had crazy blue eyes and insane white hair and was hot.
“thank you for taking care of him for the past month and a half,” gojo thanked you, leaning over to give you a peck to the temple, “it means a lot.”
“he’s a sweet boy, plus, i do need the money,” you giggle, nudging him, “and it did let me get to know you . .”
“certainly,” he mumbles. drunk off your scent, he leans in again, kissing you fully on the lips now. you hum softly, going on your tippy toes and wrapping your arms around his shoulder. swiftly, he props you on the kitchen counter and you yelp in surprise, unable to help the throb of your pussy when he slots himself in between your legs.
jokingly, he puts his hand to his ear. “no satoshi interruption tonight?”
you smack his shoulder, “don’t jinx it.”
he laughs, a proper laugh before he sighs shakily, fingers thumbing your sides gently. “you know . . we shouldn’t be doing this,” you feel your heart sink a little, but he quells it with hovering lips over yours, “he could hear and wake up.”
“then why have you been accepting all my kisses, gojo satoru?” your eyes challenge him, but you know one touch from him would have you submitting to him. his breath fans over your lips, and you can feel his pulse speed up when your fingers go over his neck, to his nape, to his undercut. you run your fingertips through it.
“you have too much power over me, simple.” that sentence has your eyes fluttering close. it’s too much for you and yet you welcome it with open arms, “it’s become so bad that you’re all i think about.”
“is that so?” you pull lightly on his hair.
he nods, foreheads touching now and he’s trying to hold himself back, but, “i’ve been holding back, entirely too much, baby, and i don’t think i can, anymore.”
“yeah?” you whisper, bringing him in with your legs, “show me, then.”
gojo satoru decides that maybe taking the leap isn’t so bad, so he fully gives himself to you, tugging your lips to his in a clashing kiss that has you groaning in pain just a bit. he giggles and apologises and tries again, and this time, it’s got your hips moving against him, whimpering into his mouth. gojo’s hard just from kissing, something that he’s desperate to relieve himself off so — he’s whispering for you to hang on while he slots his hands under your ass and lifts you.
satoru knows his house well, walking up with you in tow and lips still on yours, right into his room. you giggle when he plops you down and he’s already looking forward to ravishing you, but —
“let me check on satoshi for a sec.”
you laugh silently, “of course, satoru, go.”
and once your boss’ made sure his son is out cold in slumber, he’s all over you again and definitely showing you how much he’s been holding himself back. you’re the pure focus of the night, making you chase for more when he pulls away and kissing down your body. he worships it, tongue circling a nipple while his hand plays with the other, eyes staring holes into yours from how intense the blue was.
“s-satoru . .”
“yes, sweets, what is it?”
“feels good—” you whine, back arching into his hold once he leaves your tits and continues down your body. each kiss is like hellfire against your cold skin, and he pops a button and listens out again, both of you sighing in relief and giggling to each other when you don’t hear a knock on the door.
“does it? good.” it’s tantalisingly slow, the pace at which gojo peels your clothes off, but when your pants are finally off, he marvels at your beauty as he brings your legs apart. you’re shy, hiding yourself behind your arms and resisting his hands.
“aht, no, c’mon, show yourself, baby.” he only moans when he sees the dark patch at the centre of your underwear, pressing a finger into your clit and you’re ashamed at how intensely you react to it. gojo continues his torture, thumbing your bud just to watch your face contort into pleasure, “so, so pretty.”
you preen at the praise, even more so when he pulls your panties to the side and sucks slowly on your clit. it’s slow, again, and you’re clutching the sheets so tight when he lays his tongue flat against your pussy. satoru takes his time, savouring each bit of your cunt to make up for lost time, filling the room with the lewdest noises of your sopping cunt on his tongue.
“taste so fuckin’ sweet, pussy’s s’good,” he practically moans into your core, arms wrapping around your thighs to bring you closer while you try to keep your noises down to a minimum. little pants and mewls leave your lips, eyes never leaving the head of hair.
but he’s unpredictable, as gojo always is, so when he’s hovering over you just to give you a little innocent kiss, you think nothing of it, until he’s back in front of your pussy and starts eating you out like a starved man. you let out a loud moan, dragging it out until you’re gulping down your next sounds. it doesn’t help much, though, cause gojo’s slurping at your pussy like it’s the end of the world.
“s-satoru—! too much—” you moan but your hips grind into his mouth, your hands now finding purchase in his hair, “t-too loud.”
“mmf— don’t care,” he mumbles into your cunt, making sure he gets every drop of your arousal on his tongue while he abuses your clit, alternating between flicking his tongue and sucking hard and you think it’s the best head you’ve ever gotten.
“not when your cunt’s so perfect,” you only press his head deeper into you like it would stop his muffled sentences, but that only spurs him to suck harder before he just shifts down a little to plunge his tongue into your hole. you choke out a moan as his nose nudges your clit, clenching around his muscle.
“relax— mmhh, you gotta relax, baby,” he’s massaging your thighs but if anything it does the exact opposite, closing your thighs around his head in sensitivity.
“it’s— h-hard to,” you moan out, already feeling the coil in your tummy that’s approaching oh, so quickly when gojo eats you out like this. he shifts his attention back to your puffy clit, eyes flicking up to make contact with yours and you shrivel under his intense stare, “w-when you’re making me feel s’good—!”
you feel him smile into your cunt but he says nothing, taking note of the drop of your jaw, the scrunch of your eyes, the contractions of your stomach. your legs like to straighten out and shake when you’re close, he memorises. when you start to tighten your grip on his hair, he ingrains it in his mind.
“cumming— i’m c-close,” but it’s like satoru doesn’t even need it when his eyes digest the way he sends you over the edge with just his tongue.
“g— god! satoru!” your mouth falls into a silent scream after, head dipping so much into the pillow while you grind your cunt into his face, gushing all over his face with a renewed spirit and regret for all those times that men have rubbed your left lip thinking it was your clit.
“let it go, yeess . . that’s it,” satoru doesn’t hesitate to get sloppy, sucking up all your cum, gasping for air once he’s done with his meal, “pretty girl just came all over my face.”
you struggle to your elbows despite the words he utters, propped up just to catch a glimpse of him and the soaked bottom of his face that stretches into a smile.
“was that better than all the uni boys who’ve never felt the touch of a woman?” you laugh at that, making quick work of grabbing his chin and bringing him back to your lips.
“much, much better.” and you take the opportunity to flip the tables, trembling, shaking legs trying their best to wrap around his torso to straddle him —  but once you’re over, you’re not quite sure what to do apart from letting your hands roam all over the expanse of his shoulders and chest.
“and can she do it again all over my cock?” the obscene words sound almost taboo falling from his mouth that your mouth drops open in initial shock, but it subsides into anticipation soon enough.
wordlessly, you take matters into your own hands, fingers making quick work of his trousers while he removes his top impatiently. the scowl on your face is prominent when you struggle to work his belt out and he chuckles with helping hands, the burn on your face deepening.
“there,” gojo giggles and he pulls you in with a peck-filled apology, “don’t worry, we have all the time in the world.”
you hum, “not when your son could knock any time soon.”
that prompts a giggle that fades off into a loud moan once your warm hand wraps around him, something that he’d never tell you how many times he’s fantasised about. slowly, you stroke his cock, excruciatingly slow just like how he’s done to your cunt earlier.
you’re hovering over him, now, dragging his tip along your pussy and whining softly at the pre-cum that mixes together with your juices. you need him into you as soon as possible, and apart from your soon burning thighs, you’ve been wanting this for as long as you’ve stepped foot into his house from the very first day.
inch by inch, you sink down onto gojo’s weeping cock, getting the luxury of feeling his sensitive twitches with the plunge into your cunt. you’re glad at least he had offered to stretch you out just a tad bit earlier, the intrusion of his fingers already having you panting for his dick; and now, when you have the real thing, it drives your mind insane.
“’t-toru— haah . .” your body curls up from the painful stretch, lips muttering the nickname unknowingly as you grasp onto his shoulders for support, and while he helps you on, he never stops saying the most filthy things, grinning each time you clench around him.
“never thought i’d be here, fuckin’ the babysitter, but here we are,” your oh my god is whispered only for the other to hear, body burning up from the words before he grinds his pelvis into yours and you slump forward in pleasure. your words are a bunch of nothingness, a string of incoherence, “and her pussy’s just so fucking— tight!”
giving you one or two breaths of rest, satoru coos in your face, cradling it and littering kisses all over it before he’s moving his hips and you’re breaking the kiss to whine out, moving your hips to meet his as well. you move sooner or later, bouncing on his cock once you’re more used to him in you and the position only hits all your spots just right.
“f-fuck— you’re so big—!” you roll your hips into him, eyes stuck on how there’s just a small bump in your tummy each time you bottom out. your boss from across you is equally ruined, eyes struggling to keep open with wet hair stuck to his forehead. “feel so so g-good . .”
“yeah?” he breathlessly mumbles, hand squeezing and kneading your ass and trying to help you, but the warmth of your cunt around his length just feels too good. “bounce on that dick, baby.”
and you do, planting your feet into the bed and fingers creating bruises along his shoulders as you impale yourself on his fat cock, switching to relaxing in his embrace and letting your hips do the work when your legs start hurting. there, you indulge in gojo’s lips as you hump him, the delicious friction of your clit against his pubes sending you reeling.
“you’re going to be soaking my sheets from how much you’re leaking,” gojo jests, letting your moans take over his mind while his lips trace down your neck, eyes just peeking over to see your ass ripple from the force. “not that i mind. how’s she doin’?”
“she’s getting,” a choked whine interrupts you, “a little tired.”
and that draws a laugh out of gojo who does nothing but tease you, something he likes to do even in makeout sessions, and he doesn’t hesitate to reach over to his bedsie table to grab his phone, leaning back to bask in your glory. here, your body just looks heavenly as you try your best to move on his lap.
“hang on a little more for me, princess,” with one hand, his larger hand leave chills all over your body and the other points his phone at you, not before making sure you were okay with it, “and smile for the camera.”
you try your best even when his hand make his way to your mouth, pulling it open with his fingers to slot it in. you’re sure you look like a whore right now, but the camera pointed your way only turn you on more, like it’s beckoning you to put on a show. and you loved the attention, so you close your lips around his fingers and start sucking, grinding even harsher on his cock that has gojo stuttering.
“y—yeah, attagirl . .” he grins at the video he takes, “show the camera how much of a cockslut you are.”
you whine, bringing the hand to your clit while you shove two hands onto his torso to really work your thighs out, feeling that familiar curl in your stomach once he starts rubbing his saliva-filed fingers along you bundle of nerves. 
“r-right there, satoru—!” you swear under your breath, giving hooded eyes to the camera while you chase your high drunkenly, all sort of coherent thought banished from your head. “love your cock, love it, love it—!”
satoru swears he wants to cum from just watching you use him, and even holding himself back is proving difficult when you clamp and tighten around him until his fingers press particularly deep into your clit and you’re cumming with a loud cry of his name, body convulsing all over the video.
“tha’s a good girl . . cream my cock, yeeaaahh . .” gojo watches, hypnotised, as you lose control over your body, but the pleasure-filled whimper that you merge his name with is just too good, that he spills unexpectedly in you. the video is far from stable, so he only slaps the phone down to relish in his orgasm. gojo pushes his hips up and you gasp at the feeling, back arching when you feel his cum seep into you.
you’ve never even given much thought to pregnancy, but the feeling of his cum dribbling into you fogs your mind that you only want more after a mental note to buy the morning after pill tomorrow.
“n-need more,” you beg, fondling at his cheeks and undercut, “w-want more cum in me, satoru . .”
and it’s like a flip switches in him, because he’s flipping you over right after — he has to see his cum leave your pussy first though, taking the still ongoing video and putting it right up to your pussy, using his tip to smear your mixed juices all around.
“who knew i’d hired such a dirty girl?” he addresses the camera more than you, but he catches your flustered glance with a wink and after poorly setting up the camera on his bedside table (he just was too intoxicated on your cunt), he’s pushing back into you with a loud groan, not even caring for the consequences any more. his cum is just so much, too, spilling out the sides.
“only f’r you,” you mumble, grabbing at his forearms needily. your eyes flutter close as he bottoms out, your legs pushed right up to your chest as he folds you whichever way he wants to. at this point, if he wanted to own you, you wouldn’t object one bit, not when gojo satoru’s cock stretches your pretty pussy so nicely. “a cumslut only for you.”
“yeah?” he starts moving his hips and your arch into his hold, “i wonder how i got so — fuck — lucky.” everything is sloppy and wet and disgusting and you love every moment of it, even after he’s cummed in you the second, third, fourth time, you’re happy to be pumped full of his cum, giving him a tired, glistening grin that he returns.
“think i should be transferring over my life savings for a cunt this sweet,” you giggle at the compliment, but don’t protest when he’s pulling up the app to gift you with a hefty amount; both your salary and bonus, all from making gojo satoru fall helplessly just from your touch — something to brag about indeed.
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masterlist ko-fi ao3
Tattoo Artist! Bucky Barnes x Bookshop Owner!Reader
Summary: When Natasha begged you to come with her to get her new tattoo done, you didn't expect that her actual plan would be to set you up with a fine-as-hell tattoo artist.
Word count: 5.8k
Warnings: +18❗️smut, p in v sex, oral sex (r receiving), protected sex, dirty talk, strangers to lovers, Bucky is hot as fuck, shy and socially awkward reader, insecurities.
Author's note: sooo, it took me forever to write, but I finally finished it and I'm kind of proud of this one. Bucky with tattoos and a low bun? yup, I'm totally ready to do whatever he desires! I hope y'all will like it too. feel free to leave comments or fic ideas💘
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“I’m going to be there almost for a whole day. I love those idiots, but I still need my best friend to cheer me up." Natasha threw her hand over your shoulders, trying to convince you to go with her on a tattoo session. It was not her first time, but now she wanted to get a much bigger one on her thigh, and, for some reason, she really wanted you to go with her, using the fact that it was your day off. 
“Nat, you know that I hate going to such places. I’m socially awkward; what am I gonna do there for so long? I don’t even know those people.” You frowned, already feeling a bundle of nerves in your stomach. 
You were what others may call boring, but you rarely went to unknown places or hung out with random people. You would rather stay with a book in your apartment and read for a whole day than get into such situations. Not to mention, that tattoo salon was full of men, and it made the whole situation even worse. 
“But you’re going to be with me. They are the nice guys, I promise. You will sit with us in the room; we can talk, or you can read another book, while Barnes will do my tattoo. I just don’t want to die of boredom there. Please?” She pulled you even closer, and you knew that she wouldn’t let that go. So you had no other choice but to agree. 
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You didn’t know what you were thinking when you decided that wearing a light, flowy dress would be a good idea. Because now, following Nat out of her car to that tattoo studio, it felt too short, too open, and just too much. You tried to calm down, thinking to yourself that there was nothing serious; you were just going to wait in the corner, and other people probably wouldn’t even pay attention or talk to you. Natasha, with her boldness and openness, was always the center, and you were totally fine with that. 
But you were so wrong. 
As soon as you walked inside, four men stopped talking, turning around to face you and Nat, and you honestly thought that you were going to faint. 
“Hey, guys. Hope you don’t mind that I brought my friend. So I do not have to listen to your boring asses complain all day." She teased, dragging you by the hand like a mom who tried to encourage her kid to talk. You were round-eyed, and a wave of heat washed over your body when you were face-to-face with a blonde and big guy. But before either of you could say or do something, a person who you didn’t recognise at first stepped in, pulling you into a hug. 
“Isn’t it my favorite book girly ever? How are you doin’?” Sam’s enthusiasm and energy were always so refreshing to you, so when he quickly pulled away, instead wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pushing you further into a studio, you tried to stay calm and not freak out.
"I didn't know that you were working here. How’s Sarah?” You asked, looking up at him. 
“Yup, for a few years. She is doing great, but AJ and Cass are a pain in the ass. They are growing too quickly, you know." He chuckled. “Now, say hi to those idiots.” He moved his head toward the men who were silently observing your interaction. “Tony, Steve, and Bucky.” Sam named them in order. Tony just nodded to you, Steve smiled with the friendliest smile you had ever seen, and Bucky... 
Your head became empty as soon as your eyes landed on him for the first time. He was leaning on the wall at the back of the room, so you didn’t pay much attention to him at first. He was hot. Unbelievebly hot. He was tall and muscular, with a low bun at the back of his head and tattoos covering the visible parts of his arms and neck. And as your gaze moved to his face, you almost choked on a fucking breath. 
Piercing blue eyes looked right directly at you, and the slightest smirk curled the corner of his lips. You didn’t know whether you felt too cold, too hot, or if you just wanted to vanish right on the spot. Your face heated, your eyes started running around the room, and your heart was beating a few times faster. It was overwhelming, and you thought that you would have to go out of there, but right on time, Natasha stepped in front of you, dragging all attention to herself. 
Bucky had to admit that once in his life, Sam was right. Sam tried to convince Bucky to go to that book shop for a few months, saying that he had to meet with the girl who worked there, but he was way too stubborn. 
He would have done it a long time ago if he knew you would look like the most precious, cute, and sweet person. Bucky could not take his gaze away from you as soon as Natasha dragged you inside, absorbing everything—from the way you looked so soft and pretty in that dress to the way you blushed and were nervous about the whole thing. 
He saw your reaction—how you became even more flushed after your intense stares at each other. Bucky was never the type of guy who liked to tease you, but Goddammit, he wanted to see how you would react if he stepped closer and talked to you. He also wasn’t creepy towards women, but the only thought that came to his mind was that he wanted to taste you. The desire to shove your back into the wall, lift up the skirt of your dress, and fall to his knees was shocking; he had never felt such an instant pull toward another person. 
“Barnes, are we going to start, or you’re planning on standing and staring for a whole day?” Natasha crossed her arms over her chest as if she were annoyed, but you thought that you heard something weird in her voice, as if she held back a smile. 
And then she quickly looked back at Sam and nodded with a smirk. 
You just followed Nat and Bucky to his own part of the studio. Too lost in your head because of your friend’s weird behavior, you sat down on the sofa in the corner, and the next thing you noticed was the tall figure leaning above you. You probably got carried away to much because now there was a cup of tea standing in front of you on the table.
You looked up, only to meet those pretty blue eyes again. Bucky looked down at you with the same smirk on his lips, and you could barely form a normal thought in your head. 
“Hope you don’t mind a hot tea, princess?” Yup, you were dead. Of course, he had to have the sexiest voice you have ever heard in your life. It was not enough for him to be charming or look like a fucking sin—he also had to sound hot. 
“Thank you.” You almost whispered. 
Bucky gave you another mysterious smile before going back to his place, where Nat was already without her pants and ready to start.
You and Nat were talking for the next few hours—well, she was mostly talking about a girl named Maria that she met not so long ago, and you were nodding, listening, and sipping your tea. That way, you almost forgot about Bucky sitting in the room with you because he was too focused on his job and didn’t even look away from the tattoo. 
To be honest, you accidentally looked at him one or two times because it was hard not to notice a few curls slipping out of his bun, or the way his tattooed and veiny arms seemed so sexy, or that perfect face profile... Fuck. But everything was good until Nat suddenly asked him to stop for a few minutes. 
“I really need to pee, Barnes.” She quickly jumped out of her place, winking at you as she walked away. 
“Natasha…” You hissed at her when she left you and Bucky alone in the room, your insides already shivering with nerves. She was fucking doing it on purpose. You were sure that everything here was her plan to set you up with Bucky because she had never left you anywhere alone, knowing your nervousness. 
“Are you afraid to stay with me alone?” Bucky chuckled, stretching his neck from an uncomfortable position. Your cheeks heated, and you unconsciously started scratching the surface of your phone case. He was charming. He obviously knew that, judging by the way he acted to tease you. When his question was left without an answer, he just shook his head, smiling to himself. “I didn’t know that Nat was dating girls.”
Bucky was desperately trying to make you talk. He saw how you looked at your friend when she left you alone with him, and knowing Nat, she would not have done it if you were truly afraid of him. So he was hoping that you were just too shy to talk to him and that he could make something out of it.
“Mhm. What, you hoped to have a chance with her?” You finally looked up, and you couldn’t hide the disappointment in your voice. Of course, Bucky was just trying to hit on your friend. Everyone tried. And you knew that she was so pretty and an amazing person, really, but you just wanted to experience it yourself at least once.
“With Nat?” Bucky almost laughed, genuinely taken aback by your response. “Nah, she’s cool, but not my type.”
“And who is your type?” You asked before you could even think about it. 
"You know, those cute and shy girls who can barely talk to anyone and easily blush or get nervous." You froze in your place, and you swore that the blood in your veins had done the same. Your eyes widened in shock, looking at the proudly smirking Bucky. Did he really mean that, or was it just a stupid joke? 
Natasha came into the room, curiously looking between you two, but you just stayed silent and looked away again, staying even quieter until the end of the session. 
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“Why did you do that?” You frowned, looking away from Nat and crossing your arms over your chest. As soon as she was done, you almost ran out of that place, the mixture of weird feelings bubbling inside of you, and you were too frustrated to even talk to someone there. 
“Did what?” Your head snapped back at her innocent, unbothered voice. She rolled her eyes, not looking away from the road. “I did that because I love you.” 
“And I love you too, but I hate that you and Sam put me in this position!”
“I’m sorry if we made you uncomfortable. Don’t be mad at what I’m about to say, but I know that you feel lonely and that you want to have someone or to date someone. I understand your anxiety; I really do, but I wanted to help you.” Her voice sounded so genuine, and even if you were mad, you knew that Nat had always tried to do what was best for you. “Bucky is a good guy. He’s attractive, he’s kind, he’s funny, and he's definitely not a player. I just wanted you to meet him, and from what I saw, there was a sparkle between you.”
You didn’t say anything to that, because she was totally right. Even if you had never said that out loud, you wanted someone to like you. Was it that much to ask? It was just hard to believe that someone as attractive as Bucky, who could easily get a good handful of women whenever he wanted to, had actually flirted with you. 
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The next day, when you finally returned to your favorite place in the world, it was crazy. For some reason, too many people came to the bookshop, and almost everyone needed your advice or help. You were running around the shelves, putting the books in their places, receiving the payment, and then welcoming new customers. So when, at 9 p.m., you put the sign ‘closed’ on the door, you felt the relief that the day was almost over. 
You still had a lot to do, though. Taking the pile of books from the front table, you went to the back room, where you stored some of them. Suddenly, you heard the bell ringing and heavy footsteps on the wooden floor. 
“I’m sorry, but we are already closed. Please come tomor—” You forgot what you wanted to say when you looked out of the room into the main part of the store and saw the last person you ever expected. 
“Hey, princess.” Bucky put his hands into the front pockets, which made him seem even bigger, and smiled at you in a way that made your knees weak. He looked similar to what you saw yesterday—a low bun, black jeans, and a shirt that revealed some of his tattoos. God, his tattoos made you imagine things that were too inappropriate to say out loud. “Sorry that I came so late, but I just got off work, and I really wanted to see the place Sam has been bugging me about for weeks.” He noticed how you were looking at him again, but he decided not to tease you about it. 
“Um, hi.” You dusted off your hands and fixed the bottom part of your dress to make sure that everything was in it’s place. Bucky couldn’t help but follow your hands, staring at the way the hem of your dress moved around your thighs. “Do you need something? Like a book? Or you came just to get rid of Sam?”
“Yeah, maybe a fantasy book or something like that.” 
“I can show you where we have it, but I, um, need to finish the work here, so it would be great if you'd find a book that you like by yourself. Is that okay?” His stare was intense, and you really didn’t know what to do with this. Was he always like that with women? But Nat said that he wasn’t a player, and you trusted her more than yourself.
“Totally.” You nodded, calmed down your nerves as much as you could to not embarrass yourself in front of him, and you showed the way to the shelves at the back of the shop. 
“Take as much time as you need; I’ll go... there.” You pointed behind you to the piles of books, and Bucky chuckled at the way you were nervous around him. That was so fucking cute that he wanted to just scoop you up in his arms and make you blush again and again. 
Almost ten minutes later, you showed up again with a few books in your hands that were from the fantasy section, and as much as you wanted to escape Bucky, you also wanted to finish your job. He just quickly looked at you, too interested in the book in his hands, but didn’t say anything. 
You tried to reach the highest shelf to put the book in it’s place, but it was too far away. Usually you used a small ladder, but it was somewhere else now, and you just tried to do it standing on the tiptoes. 
“Let me do it, princess.” Bucky chuckled, closing his book and putting it down, and reached out to help you.
“No!”
“You won’t reach it. Just give it to me.” He placed his hand on your back, stretching the other one. 
“I can do it myself!” 
You couldn’t. Because the next thing you know, the book slipped out of your hand when you tried to make more distance between you and Bucky, and you also lost control of the ones you held near your chest. Everything fell onto the floor with a loud ‘boom’ and you prayed that nothing got damaged. 
Your head snapped back to say to Bucky that it was his fault, but he was already looking down at you, and you immediately forgot about everything. Only then did you realize that he was so close to you; his hand was holding your waist, and your back was almost pressed against his hard chest. 
“Sorry.” He didn’t know what he was sorry for. That he distracted you and made you drop everything, or for what he did next. After his eyes quickly looked at your plump lips, his right hand fell onto your cheek, and he kissed you.
Your instant thought was to push him away, run, and hide in the storage room, but the firm hand on your face and waist made it impossible to move. Bucky almost devoured your mouth and completely controlled you, and you could barely keep up with the rhythm of the kiss. 
He was good at it. 
No one ever kissed you as if it were the best thing they'd ever tried, but Bucky just couldn’t stop. He spined your body, so you were not in that awkward and uncomfortable position anymore. Now that you were standing chest to chest, your back got pressed into the shelves, and Bucky was towering over you. It felt unknown but so right at the same time. Your experience in this area was really poor, but the adrenalin in your blood made you a little bit more sure of yourself. 
“You’re doing something to me.” He breathed into the kiss, and you just whined without realizing it. He connected your lips again, tightening his hands on your waste and, that way, pulling you even closer. You had no idea where to put your hands, but your body seemed to work on autopilot, so they landed on his chest.
You felt something hard on the lower part of your belly, and the thought that Bucky had become hard solely because of the kiss nearly drove you insane. Hot, handsome, and charming men had never kissed you as if you were their last meal, teasing you with their bulge in the middle of your shop. 
God, he must be big. 
Your heart started beating so fast that you heard it in your ears. Was it the right thing to do? What should you do or say after that? Did he think that you kissed badly? 
“I can almost hear the thoughts in your head. Why are you worrying? You don’t like or want it? Just say, and I’ll step away.” You licked your lips, as if you tried to taste him again. You felt how your face heated again from being so close to Bucky. He didn’t sound or look as if he were judging you, and it made you feel safe enough to tell what was going on in your head.
“I just—I'm not really familiar with it. I barely know you, and you just kissed me, and I am at a loss for what to do." You said, nervously playing with the material of his shirt. Bucky's hand cupped your cheek, making you look at him. It surprised you that he didn’t try to do anything to push you, like many other men who just think with their dicks. Your stomach tightened from the way he stared at your face.
"I understand and that’s okay if you feel a little bit scared. I’m not pushing you and you can say no to me. I really came here just to talk to you, but I cannot think of anything else but you. Can I kiss you, princess?” Your eyes closed when you felt his breath on your lips again. You couldn’t deny that you wanted it too, so you just slightly nodded to his question. 
Bucky kissed you deeper and slower, allowing you to follow him. He stroked your cheek gently as his tongue slid into your mouth, causing you to moan. You swore that he smiled at your reaction, and it encouraged him to push his other hand from your waist to your thighs. 
Your skin started tingling when you felt it going under your skirt. Tattooed fingers traced the soft lines on your legs until they reached your underwear. Only then did you realise that you were getting wet. This whole time, it was not just nerves; oh no, your body actually just craved that man in front of you and now you could do nothing to hide it. In your last attempt, you tried to push your legs together, but you made it worse when Bucky’s hand slipped higher and touched the wet spot. 
“Holy fuck.” He growled, ending the kiss and looking down, where his hand stayed under your clothes. “You are not so innocent, huh?” 
“Shy and innocent are two completely different things, Bucky.” 
“Right.” Biting his lip, he looked up at you again with darkened eyes, and you felt his hand pressing onto your dressed core more firmly. “Can I taste you?"
Your eyes widen in shock. You were not a complete virgin, but unfortunately, you had never experienced that before. “My sexual life is actually really, and I mean really, meager, and no one ever asked me to do it.” You whispered, almost in embarrassment. 
“So you’re telling me that no one asked to eat you out, princess? Well, that’s a shame. I bet your pussy is as sweet as you are.” He ran his nose across your cheek, enjoying your delicate skin and the light scent of your perfume, until he reached the sensitive part of your neck. “Your scent drives me crazy... You’re so sensitive, God. When was the last time you were with someone?” You tried to act normal and not shiever, but when Bucky’s finger was running up and down the soft cotton of your panties, it was nearly impossible to do. 
“I don’t know. I did it just a few times, and I don’t date. Guys are not really interested in me.”
“Loosers.” 
“Bucky.” You moaned his name when he suddenly fell to his knees. That view was so surreal for you. He seemed desperate to touch and taste you, to please you, even though he was painfully hard in his jeans. But he did not go too far because he was waiting for your response. “What if someone walks in?”
“There is a sign on the door. Are there many people who go to bookshops at that time?” Bucky took your left leg, slowly putting it on his shoulder. Your eyes followed every move with curiosity and a hint of worry when he turned his head to softly kiss your thigh.
“Okay.”
Bucky took your leg off his shoulder but only to slide his hands under your dress and take off your underwear. He did not break eye contact when he helped you step out of it and then put them in his jeans pocket. With a quick motion, your leg returned to it’s place near his face and you blushed, realising how close he was.
With his right hand on your thigh and the left one slowly creeping up your other leg, Bucky started leaving kisses higher and higher, until he finally reached your pulled-up dress. When his head suddenly lowered and you felt the first touch of his tongue, you almost died. 
Up until that moment, you didn’t even realize how tense your body was, but that first lick sent a hot wave over you and you could not hold back a whine. You just became a fucking puddle under his touch. 
Bucky was not much better than you. He gripped your thigh harder, as if he wanted you to be even closer, and moaned when your taste blossomed on his tongue. He knew that he was addicted now and that he could spend hours in between your legs. His tongue slipped across your folds, collecting your juice, and then circled around your sensitive clit. 
“Fuck, princess. You’re s’ sweet.” 
"Bucky—oh my god, please!” You didn’t know what you were begging for, but that tight knot in your stomach was becoming almost too painful, and you felt tears forming in your eyes. As if Bucky had already understood your body better, he put two fingers of his left hand at your entrance, slightly pushing in just the tips. 
You moaned again, your hand moving on it’s own and grabbing Bucky’s hair in despair. He slowly slipped inside, letting you adjust while still not stopping the movements of his tongue. You felt so fucking tight and wet around his fingers and his cock painfully twiched in his jeans. He started pumping his fingers in and out of your pussy, and if you weren’t so far up in your head, you would’ve been embarrassed by the noises coming out of you. 
The combination of his thick digits and tongue pushed you into your first orgasm. Your back arched, and your legs unconsciously tried to close, but Bucky did not let that happen, gripping your thigh tighter and holding you in place. 
“Cum for me, pretty girl. C'mon, don’t be shy.” He encouraged you and that was everything you needed. 
You had no idea what happened next because your body felt like it was floating and your head fell back with a moan of Bucky's name. He let you go through it, slowing his pace and pulling out his fingers. As much as he didn’t want to stop, he knew that it was enough for you for the first time. 
You felt how Bucky jently lowered your leg and then, holding you by the waist, stood up and shamelessly licked his shiny lips. “I can’t believe you actually just did that. No one has ever given me an orgasm.” 
“Princess… You’re unbelievable.” He got closer to you, nuzzling into your neck and breathing in your scent. You could feel hardness in his pants, and while Bucky did not try to push it any further, the desire within you made you bold. 
“Do you have a condom?” Bucky immediately pulled away from you, his eyes darker than before and his hands tightening on your waist. You bit your lip and lowered your gaze, as if you said something wrong. 
"No, no, no, you can’t get shy after you just asked me this. Eyes on me, princess. Do you really want it?" 
“I do.” 
Bucky connected your lips, distracting you from unnecessary thoughts, and you felt two hands on the back sides of your thighs. Your legs automatically wrapped around his waist, as if your body knew what to do better than you. You both moaned when his bulge met with your dripping core; Bucky’s grip tightened and he slightly moved your hips. 
Firmly holding you in his hands, Bucky stepped away from the shelves and went to the table that was standing nearby. He blindly moved aside some books there, dropping a few on the floor and receiving a groan from you. He put you on the flat surface, not moving away from between your legs. 
Your hands finally felt more confident to study his tattooed skin. You never realised that you were into people with tattoos, but now, looking at the variety of things covering his tanned skin, your belly tightened with anticipation. Your hands slowly reached his neck, slightly pulling him closer. 
“You didn’t answer my question. Do you have it?” Instead of replying to you, Bucky, not breaking eye contact, reached into his pocket and pulled out a wallet. He opened it, taking the shiny square that was sticking out of there. 
Your eyes shot up at him, meeting his half-hooded and full-of-lust eyes. Bucky looked right back at you, mesmerized by your beauty—by the way your cheeks heated and your lips were slightly swollen. He quickly unbuttoned his pants, sliding them with boxers down his legs, until his hard as rock cock was free with pre-cum leaking from the tip. 
“If you’re going to look at me like that, then I might cum like a teenager before everything starts, princess.” Bucky growled, squeezing your thigh in his hand. You closed your eyes for a few seconds, then looked at his face again. You didn’t want to stare at his cock, but holy shit, it was better and bigger than everything you’ve seen before. You wondered what it would taste like, and that one thought made you clench around nothing. 
With a quick, smooth motion, Bucky opened the package with his teeth, sliding the condom down his shaft. His hand moved you closer to the edge of the table, so now your faces were just a few centimeters away and you could feel his cock through the fabric of your dress. 
“Be a good girl and hold it here for me.” Bucky folded your dress on your stomach, guiding your hand there, so he had better access to your sweet pussy. He had to see how he was disappearing inside of you with his own fucking eyes.  
“Bucky…” You whined because of the way you were exposed to him, but you still did what he said. With wide eyes, you looked at how he moved even closer to you, slightly brushing your folds with the tip. Your free arm gripped his tattooed forearm, digging in your nails. 
“So wet for me, so pretty... God, princess. I won’t be able to keep my hands from you. Say you want this. I need to hear it.” He palmed the side of your face, making you look up at him, and held himself at your entrance at the same time. 
“I want it. Please.” You whispered, your eyes running back and forth between his pretty blues. 
When he finally started slowly pushing into you, your mouth opened with a silent moan, and your eyes almost crossed with the way your whole body got covered with goosebumps. Bucky could not tear his eyes away from the place you two were connected. He felt every movement of your body and felt how your pussy almost sucked him inside. 
He knew that you would feel good, but he did not realize that it would feel like the most correct thing in his life. 
Bucky finally bottomed into you, stretching you the way you had never been before. You both thought that you could cum in that exact second, but you also both wanted to extend this moment as much as you could. 
“Princess…” That sounded so desperate when Bucky finally started moving his hips, dragging his cock out and then pushing right back in. "Fuck, I need to kiss you. You feel like a fuckin’ heaven, holy shit.” Not stopping sliding into you at a steady pace, he dragged your face closer, as if his life were depending on it. Bucky greedily bit and sucked your bottom lip, swallowing every moan and whine you let out.
“Mh— I can’t— oh, Bucky!” You cried, trying to hide your face in the crook of his neck.
He pulled you back away from his body, holding you that way so he had a better view of your face and body. He felt the way your thighs tried to squeeze together, your face started to heat and you tried to look away. 
“Don’t you dare become shy when I’m balls deep in you, princess.” He slowed his movements and teased you until you almost begged him to fuck you properly again. “You need to cum, huh? Show me those pretty eyes; don’t hide from me, c’mon.” You looked up, almost whining from the way he was looking at you. Pupils blown out, eyes slightly narrowed, and running around your face with interest and desire. “Do you need something? Speak up, sweet girl.”
“I want to cum. Let me, please.” 
“Good fucking girl.” 
Bucky started fucking you with a new forse; the table under you was squeaking with every move, making the whole scene even dirtier. You could not care about embarrassment anymore, moaning Bucky name and begging him to be harder. 
You both felt how close you were. 
Your hand, with your skirt in it, tightened around the fabric, your spread legs were trembling and you started uncontrollably squeezing Bucky’s cock inside of you. His dirty words made your vision foggy with satisfaction and the way he didn’t stop hitting your sweet spot was enough for you to go crazy with an overwhelming orgasm.
“Bucky! Bucky, oh my— fuuuck!” You cried in pleasure, feeling a few more thrusts of his throbbing cock, until he finally slowed down and emptied himself in the condom. Your body fell forward right into Bucky’s chest, too tired to even sit straight. He wrapped his hands around you, slowly stroking your back and kissing your temple. 
“You are fucking amazing, princess.” He mumbled into your hair and you just hummed in response. After a few quiet minutes, when your head started to clear up and the whole weight of this situation fell on you, you finally pulled away, hiding your eyes from him again. “What? What’s wrong?” 
“I just… I don’t know what we are supposed to do in this situation; I mean— it was just sex for you, right?” You asked, focusing on one particular tattoo on Bucky’s neck to not show how nervous you were.
Bucky didn’t answer for a few seconds, but you felt the weight of his eyes on you. Then he lifted your face with one of his hands and softly smiled at you. “If it meant nothing for me, I would’ve already been on my way home. I want you. I wanted you from the moment I saw you and I won’t be satisfied until you let me take you out. Are you free tomorrow evening, sweetheart?” He cooed, playfully tilting his head to the side. That man and his charm would be the death of you…
“Um, okay. I’m free, if you’re not kidding.”
“Not in the slightest. Now get dressed. I'm taking you home.” He pecked your lips before slowly pulling out of you and getting rid of the condom. You slowly jumped from the table, legs trembling from two mind-blowing orgasms, not missing how Bucky’s smirked at you. 
“You don’t have to take me home, Bucky.” You fixed your dress and hair as much as you could without a mirror and then picked up the books from the floor that were forgotten during your makeout session. 
“Well, I didn’t see a car near the shop, so I assume you’re walking home. And it’s dark.” He walked behind you, wrapping his hands around your waist and burying his face into your neck. “I don’t like this idea. I’m driving you home, princess.” 
“Fine. You won.” You playfully made an annoyed voice to what Bucky just chuckled and held you even closer. 
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daemour · 3 months
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I Can See You
Pairing: single dad! Seonghwa x babysitter! f! yn
Word Count: 10,137
Warnings: cursing, alcohol consumption, a creepy old man in one scene, age gap (10 years but both are adults (and not just barely)), smut warnings under cut
Genre: Angst, fluff, smut, single parent au, M for mature audiences
Summary: When you took a job babysitting a young toddler, you didn't expect to be so drawn to the family. And more specifically, her frustratingly hot and single dad.
Smut Warnings: masturbation, sexual fantasies, riding, slight (if you squint) corruption kink, sliGHT breeding kink, unprotected sex (DONT DO THIS unless you discuss safely outside of sex!), breast play, overstimulation, undiscussed kinks (yn is fine with it. but discuss your fucking kinks guys *gun emoji*), slight cumplay
thank u to @pyeonghongrie and @mingsolo for beta'ing and for the title hehe <3 this is also a collab with @potatomountain who is also writing a dilf hwa, we're just on two sides of the spectrum lol...and this is so damn long
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“Hello, I’m here for a babysitter interview with a Mr Park?”
“That would be me. Miss (Y/N)?”
When you answered the ad in the newspaper about babysitting, you were so ready to see an older man, around his fifties. But this man looked so young, around his late twenties although you’re sure he’s probably forty. And you’re not one to judge—nearing your mid-twenties one wouldn’t be expecting you to still babysit as a full-time job. But it pays the bills and helps you get some hands-on experience in your degree, child development.
“Ah, yes. That’s me,” your words spill out as you realise he is awaiting an answer. Mentally, you berate yourself for the immediate blunder while Mr Park’s eyes crinkle with amusement.
“Come on in and make yourself comfy on the couch. I’ll be right there. Would you like anything to drink?” Mr Park’s voice is smooth like butter and you have a hard time making sure you don’t get lost in it.
Again, you nod, actual wordy responses jumbled in your brain, walking to the couch and sitting down almost mechanically. If you were mentally present, you would have noticed the smile the older man sends your way.
He doesn’t take too long, returning with two glasses of water. “You didn’t say what you wanted to drink so I just got you water. Is that okay?”
Thankfully, you finally can respond coherently and smile, albeit a little shakily. “Yes, thank you so much.”
You take the glass with both hands, thanking him again quietly and taking a small sip before just holding it as you wait for him to be seated. You’ve felt awkward before, but this is a new extreme. Normally you pride yourself on keeping your cool in front of someone you think is hot, but Mr Park…he’s something else. You try your best to keep your eyes trained on the coffee table, only letting yourself glance at him occasionally so he doesn’t realise just how in awe you are.
“Jihee will be home from school soon, so you’ll see her soon. For now it’ll just be old me and my questions,” Mr Park starts his interview as soon as he sits on the couch across from you. “Now, I saw in your application that your major was in child development? Can I ask why that interested you?”
You blink at him for a moment, not expecting that question. Sure, bringing it up was expected, but the way he sounds like he’s interviewing you for a position in a company amuses you. “Uh…I just grew up with a lot of siblings and their kids. I’m the youngest of six, and the oldest is sixteen years older than me so I have a lot of nieces and nephews as well. Children have always been a part of my life, and my first job was babysitting so it’s something I’m very used to. Child development was just a way for me to learn even more and in a less… hands-on way. Poopy diapers are not my favourite.” You pause. “Not that I can’t change them! Or that Jihee uses them. Sorry. I didn’t mean to bring it up.”
You’re so sure your face is bright red right now as you stumble over your words, and you’re ready to be kicked out, but all Mr Park does instead is laugh at your embarrassment. It’s a little mean but it’s better than your worst conclusion so you’ll take it. “It’s okay,” Mr Park smiles at you. “It’s okay to ramble, it was actually quite amusing. Now, I’d just like to warn you, Jihee has trouble with working on schoolwork. While that usually isn’t an issue, she may be asking you to help her with her homework and reading and I just thought I’d give you a heads up. Would that cause any trouble?”
“It wouldn’t bother me, and I’ll try my best. I took children’s education in college as well so it’d be a good time for me to exercise that,” you laugh quietly. Your first dream was to be a governess, no matter how few jobs there are for that type of work.
Mr Park nods thoughtfully. “Glad to give you some experience in that,” he hums after careful consideration, a smile on his face. “Her struggles lie in understanding the problems and in English. If she faces any difficulty then I can always help out.”
Before either of you continues speaking, his watch beeps and he glances down. Without another word, he stands and goes to open the front door. “Uh–” Your confusion escapes you before you can stop it.
“Oh, Jihee’s almost home and I always leave the door open for her,” he explains, eyes still trained on his watch. “You’ll get to meet her, and then we can discuss more details. And just to reiterate the ad, this is going to be a job that requires a lot of hours. I, of course, will be paying you for any sort of overtime if I need to stay at the office later. Does your schedule still allow for that?”
You hold back your smile. Your schedule mostly consists of scrolling the internet for job opportunities and eating lunch with your friends. “Yes, I can do that,” you affirm. “I’ll need holidays off, but I assume that’s a given as you’ll also be with Jihee?”
A smile pulls at the corner of Mr Park’s mouth. “Very astute,” he chuckles. “Now, here she comes.”
The door swings open without another word from either of you and a little girl dressed in pink and ribbons barrels into Mr Park’s knees. He lets out a quiet grunt, stabilising himself against the door as his hand strokes at her hair. “Hello, Jihee,” he hums fondly. "How was school today?"
The young girl beams up at her father. "So fun!" she grins, her words slightly slurred in her excitement. "Today, Mrs Lee had us do shapes and my favourite colour is blue now! I have so many blue crayons."
Mr Park's eyebrow raises at the mention of crayons. "Do you have them with you?" he asks, and Jihee nods vigorously. "Can I see them?"
Another nod comes from the child and she immediately plops on the floor, pulling out her pencil case and opening it to reveal at least ten crayons, all of varying sizes. What stands out to you the most is that half of them are green. "See! All blue. But this one's my favourite." She grabs at a particularly long and skinny one, a shade of emerald green.
"Ah. Lovey, remember, your colours are a little different, right?" Mr Park talks in a gentle voice, very different from the very adult voice he used with you. "That's a green crayon."
Jihee's face drops. "Oh." Her bottom lip juts out in a pout.
Mr Park holds out his hand and Jihee drops the crayon into his palm. "You can't take the crayons from school anyway, dear. Why don't we leave these in your bag and you can give them back and apologise to Mrs Lee tomorrow?"
Jihee's pout grows bigger but she nods. "Okay, daddy," she agrees and Mr Park nods proudly.
"Now, do you want to meet your new friend?" You flinch as Mr Park mentions you, sitting up straighter in your chair before ultimately deciding to stand instead.
"Hi, Jihee," you do your best to speak with the same quiet tone Mr Park used. "I'm (Y/N)! It's nice to meet you."
You offer your hand for her to shake and Jihee looks at you, her thinking face almost a spitting image of her father's before she walks over and takes your hand with gusto. "Hi, Mrs (Y/N).”
"Ah, I'm not a Mrs," you correct her. "You can call me (Y/N)."
"Miss (Y/N)," Mr Park quietly interrupts and you nod, not wanting to override his parenting although being called 'miss' will catch you off-guard for the time being. "Why don't you tell her one thing about yourself and then Miss (Y/N) has to go, okay?"
Jihee's mouth twists in sadness, her hand still gripping yours. "Okay," she sighs again. "I get to talk to her more later though, right?"
Mr Park nods. "Of course. Miss (Y/N) will be spending a lot of time with you, so I'm glad you like her."
Jihee nods solemnly. "I like pretty people and you're super pretty," she tells you earnestly and your heart swells at the compliment.
“Thank you, Jihee,” you thank her genuinely, although you’re amused at the fact that she considers her appreciation for physical looks a good introduction to herself. “It was nice to meet you.”
With another decisive nod, Jihee turns and marches right off down the hall, presumably to her room. Mr Park turns to you, finally shutting his front door with a sigh. “That was Jihee. Ball of energy extraordinaire. She comes home from school at one-thirty, and will put her own things away before coming to eat a snack. She has one worksheet to do a day but with your help she’ll get it fairy quickly. I’ll email you a list of house rules.”
You nod. “That sounds perfect. What would the schedule look like? What time would I be here, and when would I expect you to come home?”
Mr Park hums, running a hand through his perfect hair. “For her school days, I’d like to have you in here maybe ten minutes before she comes. I’ll always leave her snack in the fridge and you can just pop it in the microwave and make yourself comfortable before she comes barrelling in. Then I’ll be home at five-thirty sharp whenever possible. Every other Saturday I’m in the office for eight hours and you’ll be watching Jihee for those days. If you can’t do a Saturday, just let me know so I can get someone to watch her, but generally I’d like you here from eight to five.”
You nod. All your friends have atypical work schedules so your Saturdays are empty in general, and since the weekdays are shorter hours you don’t mind. “When it comes to after-school playdates, should I expect you to be home or would you like me to take care of them?”
Mr Park’s lips tighten almost imperceptibly. “That won’t be an issue. Jihee doesn’t do playdates.” Your curiosity spikes at his short answer but his tone leaves no room for discussion so you don’t press it. “I’ll give you a key now. Tomorrow is my off-Saturday but if you can come in just to adjust yourself that would be great. I have some work to get done anyway so I’ll be mostly out of your hair although you can still ask me questions.”
You nod again. “Yeah, that works,” you confirm after a quick check to your phone calendar. When you look up, Mr Park is already holding out a key and you take it after a moment’s hesitation. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”
Mr Park nods, moving to open the door when Jihee calls out with a whining tone to her voice. “Daddy, I need help!”
Mr Park sighs but it’s full of affection for his daughter. “I would walk you to your car but she calls for me,” his head dips into an apologetic bow but you shake your head.
“Don’t worry about it,” you smile at him. “There’s no need for that at all.” That is one of the main reasons, but another part of you doesn’t want him to know you have no car and you take the bus to his neighbourhood and then walk the rest of the way.
A twenty-four-year-old with no car? It’s a little embarrassing, especially in the area you both live in where it’s almost required to have a car to do anything. Generally, your babysitting jobs were close enough to your home, but the salary of this job enticed you to give up walking.
As you exit, you can hear Jihee starting off her complaints about her jacket and you smile to yourself subconsciously.
-
You’ve been working with the Parks for almost a month now and generally, it’s a good time. You only really see Mr Park when he comes home, but by then you have one foot out the door. There are days when he looks so beaten down that you want to offer him some encouragement, but you don’t want to step out of your boundaries. So, you just keep your head down and leave.
Jihee is sweet and easy-going, not hard for you to get along with. She always has some sort of fun idea for you to play along with and her schoolwork hasn’t been too terrible although you dread when she starts getting into more difficult maths.
But today, as soon as Jihee walks into the door, you suspect something is wrong. She doesn’t greet you as excitedly as she used to, just stalking straight into her bedroom and coming right now, settling herself down on the couch with a pout on her face.
“Jihee, don’t you want to eat?” you try to coax her to the dinner table, but she just shakes her head, immobile. You frown. It’s strange for the usually talkative child to be this closed off. “Did something happen at school?”
Jihee glares at the coffee table, shaking her head. “No,” she mutters but her cold-stone facade drops immediately as she suddenly bursts into tears. Your heart drops for the child crying on your couch and you immediately run to her and pull her into your arms. “Why don’t they like me?” she wails into your shirt and your heart drops.
You had suspected it when Mr Park shut down the playdate idea very quickly, but this just solidifies your thoughts. How could the kids at school not like such a sweet kid? As you’ve been working for the Parks for quite a bit now, you’ve grown to adore the young girl like she was one of your own nieces.
You don’t say anything just yet, just patting her hair and doing your best to calm her down. It takes almost an hour but now she just curls up in your arms, her hands gripping your shirt as she’s so close to falling asleep. You don’t have the heart to wake up so you resign yourself to letting her sleep on you for now.
Within ten minutes, you fall asleep as well. It’s not what you meant to do, but you couldn’t have stopped yourself. When your eyes open again, Jihee is no longer in your arms and there’s a large fluffy blanket laid on top of you. You blink yourself awake before panic sets in and you shoot up, looking around. “Jihee?” you call out and hear deep laughter behind you. When your head snaps back you see Mr Park chuckling at your face.
“Welcome back to the land of the living, Miss (Y/N).”
It takes a minute for your words to register, blinking stupidly at your employer for a few moments before your face drops and you practically leap off the couch. “I’m so sorry!” you cry, bowing rapidly at a low angle. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep and it won’t happen again.”
You keep your eyes lowered and you look up at him through your lashes, scared of how he’ll react but to your surprise, Mr Park’s smile grows and he shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it, you looked comfortable and the doors were locked. Jihee didn’t get into any trouble, just was a little bored since you were asleep.”
You shake your head. “Regardless, I shouldn’t sleep on the job but thank you for the kindness. Jihee is very responsible for her age and it certainly reflects on your parenting.” You smile back at him.
“Well, thank you for your kind words. It means a lot to me as well,” Mr Park hums. “Would you like to join us for dinner? I know you usually leave around the time I get back but let me at least feed you before you go.”
You frown. “I’d like to, but I should get going,” you say absentmindedly. “I have to make it in time to catch the bus.”
You’re looking around, trying to gather your belongings, when you realise how silent Mr Park is. And in turn, you realise what you just said. “You take the bus?” His voice lowers and you stare at the look of concern he has on his face. “It’s practically dark by the time you leave and you’re walking to the bus stop by yourself?”
“Ah– it’s okay! It’s not a far walk, just up the street.” You hurry to defend your choices, waving your hands. “I’ve gotten home safe so far, no?”
Mr Park shakes his head. “No, you can’t take chances. I’ll drive you home tonight after dinner. You must stay.”
You stare up at him with wide eyes, but his stance is unwavering. And as much as you would usually protest—being taken home by a much older man would usually ring alarms in your head—the idea of not having to wait in the cold and the dark by yourself is very appealing. And from how you’ve interacted with him before, Mr Park seems very sweet, and you trust him just a little more than you probably should.
“Well, I do thank you for your kindness,” you sigh, nodding your head in concession. “But this will be the only time.”
Mr Park chuckles, not taking you seriously. “We’ll see. Now come on. Tonight is beef stew and my younger brother will come for dinner as well.”
“Uncle Uyu is coming?” You can hear Jihee’s excited voice coming from the kitchen as well as her feet pittering on the floor as she launches herself into your lap. “Hi again, Miss (Y/N).”
“Hello again, Miss Jihee,” you tease, pressing the tip of your finger to her forehead and Jihee giggles.
“Are you staying for dinner?” You nod again and she screeches in happiness, not giving a second glance at how you wince at the sound. “I can’t wait! I have to make you pretty! Come with me.”
With as much seriousness as she can muster in her body, she pulls you by the hand into her room as Mr Park watches the two of you with a soft smile and follows the two of you into Jihee’s room. He takes a seat on the bed as Jihee fusses over your hair, styling it with her toddler's hands and putting an obscene amount of hair clips into it. But you’re whipped for the little girl and you let her do whatever she wants, ending up in two uneven pigtails and a plethora of Hello Kitty clips.
“Daddy, isn’t it pretty?” Jihee giggles, moving your head to tilt so her father can take a look at her work. “It’s better than your hair to practice!”
Mr Park, mock-affronted, holds his hand to his chest. “Betrayed by my own daughter? Alas, but I can let it slide as this may very well be your best work.”
Jihee giggles, pressing her face against your cheek when the doorbell rings. “Uncle Uyu!” As always, her focus is diverted by any new thing and she runs for the door, both you and Mr Park following shortly after. As she yanks the door open, a man around Seonghwa’s age greets her just as excitedly, bending down to pick her up and spin her around.
“Jiji,” he cheers, “Already so big?” His eyes find you and you offer a small wave. “And who’s this? Seonghwa, you found a girl?”
Mr Park’s jaw drops and your eyes widen as you rush to contradict. “Oh, no, no, I’m just the babysitter. Mr Park has kindly invited me for dinner.”
Wooyoung chuckles at the look on both your faces. “Don’t worry, I just like to pull on Seonghwa’s leg. You’re a little young for him too.”
You offer a smile. “Yeah, and the forties are a little out of my age range as well,” you try to joke, but to your surprise, Wooyoung breaks out cackling, startling Jihee who starts laughing with him confusedly. Mr Park’s shocked face has somehow become even more intense.
“You think I’m how old?” Wooyoung has reigned in his laughter although a smile still pulls at his lips. “I’m only thirty-four!”
A gasp made its way out of your mouth as you start bowing rapidly again in apology. “I’m so sorry! You look your age, I just assumed you had to be older.”
Mr Park sighs, although an amused smile now graces his face. “It’s okay, I can understand it. I’ll just be giving you a hard time from now on.” He punctuates with a wink and your eyes snap down to Jihee in embarrassment.
“Let’s get on with dinner so I can go home and just melt in embarrassment, okay?” you groan and the two older men laugh. Jihee seems to agree with your sentiment, declaring her hunger grumpily and you laugh and pick her up. “See, even Jihee’s on my side. Let’s eat now.”
Mr Park hums, stepping aside. “All right, I see I’m outnumbered now. I hope you don’t mind how casual this dinner is, but I promise the food is worth it. Wooyoung’s the better cook, but he’s taught me a few tricks.”
You shrug. “Any food is good food to me. At home, I have instant ramen and fried rice so it’s a nice change.”
Out of disapproval, Mr Park shakes his head although the smile does not leave his face. “I do not miss my college diet. Please, take a seat.” He motions to the dinner table, pulling out a chair for you to seat yourself, sitting beside you as Wooyoung and Jihee join the other side of the table.
“So, tell me about yourself (Y/N),” Wooyoung hums, leaning on the table by his elbows. “You’re in college?”
You shake your head. “I graduated a year and a half ago, I’m twenty-four now, but it feels like just yesterday I was taking my finals,” you chuckle. “What was your major, Mr Wooyoung?”
Wooyoung smiled, “Please, call me Wooyoung. Mr Wooyoung just sounds weird. But to answer your question, my major was culinary, of course. Before I taught Hwa how to cook, he was hopeless. I think I was feeding him and Jihee primarily other than his sandwiches and canned soup.” He sighs, leaning back and smirking at Mr Park whose ears are red.
“Hey, Youngah, I paid you for your work. Don’t make me seem incompetent,” Mr Park snorts, leaning over to smack the back of his neck. “Wooyoung may be eight years younger than me but he certainly acts like he’s five.”
You laugh at the banter. “Me and my siblings were the same way. We’d always fight but in the end, we care for each other. It’s sweet to see you guys act the same.” You smile, taking a bite of your stew. “Thank you for letting me sit in on your family dinner.”
Mr Park shakes his head. “Of course. Can’t let you walk on your own at night, you know. I’d be happy to give you a ride home from now on.”
“Ah, no, I can’t make you do that,” you try and decline again but Seonghwa is having none of that.
“It’s not a matter of making me, I offered. I can’t let my babysitter just stand around in the dark. Let me do this for you. Jihee cares for you, she wouldn’t want to make you get hurt.”
You frown, pursing your lips. “I suppose I can’t argue with that,” you concede. “Thank you once again.”
Mr Park shakes his head, his hand moving up to ruffle your hair. “Don’t worry about it.” His hand rests atop your head a moment longer before he remembers who he is in relation to you. “Ah, sorry. Habit from Jihee.”
The heartfelt moment is cut loose by everyone amused at Mr Park’s habit. Jihee immediately takes the initiative to start rambling about stickers, engrossing everyone in the conversation, Wooyoung being particularly vocal. The dinner is finished with no other events, and you offer to help clean up, ignoring Mr Park when he tries to protest.
“Thank you for helping out,” he tries to thank you but you wave your hand dismissively.
“You fed me and are driving me home. It’s the least I could do. Shall we head out though? I don’t want you to have to leave Jihee for too long.”
Mr Park nods, grabbing his keys and jangling them as he opens the door to the garage. You do your best to not show your surprise at the sight of his fancy car. Of course, you knew he was well off, but you never imagined you’d actually be sitting in his car. He even opens the door for you, letting you slide into the passenger seat.
You hold yourself stiffly, but Mr Park looks over and just laughs at you. “Relax, I’m not going to bite you. Just let me know where to go and we’ll be set. Want a piece of gum?”
He holds out a pack of gum and you gladly take the piece, happy for the distraction. Most of the car ride is silent, except for you telling him occasionally where to go. But as he pulls up to your street, he slows to a crawl.
“You know, I don’t want you to be uncomfortable around.me. Sure, I’m your employer, but I’m also a dad. I got the dad instinct, you know?” Your lips twitch at his attempt to be comforting. “Really, though. Don’t hold yourself so tight around me. I don’t mind doing this for you.”
You turn your eyes down. “Thank you. I’ll try, it’s just a little weird for me if you understand. But I do appreciate everything you’re doing for me.” As you unbuckle your seatbelt, you smile at Mr Park. “I hope you have a good night.”
As you go to your apartment building, Mr Park leans out of his car and calls after you. “You can call me Seonghwa, (Y/N). Mr Park makes me feel old.”
You laugh at his admission. “We’ll see, grandpa!” You can’t help but tease him before running into your home, leaving an amused Seonghwa outside.
-
These days you and Seonghwa have become a lot more friendly. He’s taken to driving you home despite your protests and during the car rides, some interesting conversations have happened. For example, you learnt that he built his company from the ground and yet is respected in many old money circles.
Okay, maybe you didn’t learn that from a conversation, and instead just searched on the internet. But what can you say? You’re curious about the man who happens to be your charge’s father and the man who happens to be very very handsome.
Maybe you have a bit of a crush on Seonghwa, but you couldn’t blame yourself. There was something about him. It is the aura he holds himself with, the kindness in his smile when he arrives home, and it helps that he is hot. Every so often, you can’t help but find yourself glancing at his pretty hands, or his well-toned arms, and you have to look away before heat spreads up to your ears.
You’re down bad, and it’s not getting any better. Every time you see Seonghwa, you want to jump him but it would be inappropriate. Not only is he your employer, but he’s also a decade older than you. There’s no way he would be interested in you, he probably sees you just as some kid.
With a sigh, you look down at your sketchbook. Today was supposed to be a fun day. Both Jihee and Seonghwa were off today, so you were spending the day with her as Seonghwa was still called into the office to put in some extra hours. But then the toddler fell sick and you were tasked with taking care of her.
At least it was a fairly easy job—Jihee slept most of the day and you were free to work on some of your more personal projects. Although your passion lies in children, you do enjoy drawing and even took a couple of classes in college. As you lay on the couch sketching, you get so lost in your mind you don’t even register the door opening and the footsteps coming towards you.
“Is that me?”
A shriek rips its way out of your throat as you do your best to whirl around and hold your drawings to your chest, but your legs get caught in the blanket and you instead fall half off the couch to the ground. Your chin props your head up on the ground but your legs are still tangled on the couch, your arms twisted into the blanket, the sketchbook an arm’s reach away.
“Hi, Mr– Seonghwa. How was work today?” you mumble half into the carpet, too embarrassed to look up. “Jihee’s taking a nap in her room.”
After a moment of silence, Seonghwa laughs, although it’s a little pained. “Uh. Do you need help up?”
You groan, pulling one of your arms out from your cocoon prison. “That would be great, thanks. Sorry.”
One of his cool hands gently takes your elbow as another comes to rest on your back. It’s at the moment you realise your shirt has ridden up. You can’t help but tense at the touch, hoping the embarrassment doesn’t show on your face. “Jihee’s taking a nap?”
You’re grateful he chose to brush over the incident. “Yeah– yeah. She’s not much better, but she’s not much worse. It’s just a simple cold, so she needs to sleep it off.” You chose to ignore the hand lingering on the small of your back, instead scooching back on your butt to distance yourself just a little bit. He’s your employer, there’s no way you can give in to your feelings.
But the couch seems to be against your plans, as when you try to pull the blankets off your feet you tumble into Seonghwa’s legs, knocking him down as you land on his firm chest. Your face is mere centimetres away from his and you freeze. “I–” you stammer out, Seonghwa equally as awkward.
“Sorry–” He tries to sit up, but it just results in the blankets twisting tighter and pulling you two even closer together. You swear if you could hold your breath, you could feel and hear his heart beating. “Ah, shit.”
You can’t help but laugh a little at his profanity, not something you’ve ever expected to hear from him. “Welcome back, Seonghwa.”
Seognhwa’s eyes widen, his blush deepens, and his head snaps away from you. Your brows furrow at the change in his features and you can’t help but wonder if it’s from the proximity, or if it’s the proximity to you specifically. “Ah. Let’s get out of this, shall we?” he coughs. He carefully detangles himself from the pile and holds out a hand to you.
You grasp it, noting his firm grip and letting him pull you up. “Thanks.”
“I’ll drive you back to your apartment first since Jihee’s asleep right now. It won’t take long.” While Seonghwa’s voice remains warm, his eyes move away from you.
Suddenly a guilty feeling pools in your stomach and you turn away as well, bending to pick up your sketchbook silently. “Of course.” The disappointment fills your head as you internally admonish yourself for even trying to entertain your fantasies of the older man.
But, to your surprise, a warm hand pats you on your shoulder. “You are good at art, (Y/N). You should continue to pursue and practice it, even as just a hobby.” His words make you look up into his eyes and you see a sparkle behind them. “You’re a talented person, and you should take advantage of it.”
“Thank you, Seonghwa,” you smile at him again. “Once again, I appreciate the kindness you offer me.”
Seonghwa chuckles, spinning the car keys as you’ve quickly found out is his habit. “(Y/N), thank you for putting up with such an old man who can offer you nothing but kindness.”
You snort. “You’re not even that old, you geezer.” In retaliation, Seonghwa leans over and pokes you in the forehead.
“Oh, hush and let me take you home.”
-
It’s been almost six months since that day and your feelings have only intensified. But this time, you swear perhaps he may be returning your feelings too. Sometimes you catch him looking at you with a gentle smile, and his hand on your shoulder lingers a little longer than you think. But then he talks to an employee on the phone and you remember how accomplished he is. Even if he wasn’t much older than you, there’s no way you would fit into his lifestyle.
And, like any self-respecting person would do, you start to avoid him. What else are you going to do? Tell him? You’d be crazy to even entertain the thought. There’s no way he would even take you seriously.
These days you’ve just been going to work, and heading straight home. Seonghwa barely has time to catch you, and you’ve been plotting with Jihee to keep him away. She doesn’t quite understand why, but it’s fun to her so she’s happy to. You’re pretty sure half your wallet has gone to sticker sheets. But no matter how many stickers you’ve bought, it doesn’t help Seonghwa from figuring out something is amiss.
It’s your one day off and you’re spending it at home, lounging around and just watching movies while you sulk about your tangled feelings. Watching all these romantic movies doesn’t help at all and you groan. There’s no way you’re going to act like a lonely teenager, you declare to yourself. You’ll go to a club! Maybe meet someone closer to your age and you won’t feel like a wet sock anymore.
That’s it, you’ve convinced yourself. You’ll give yourself a night out. Suddenly inspired, you throw off the blankets covering you and start donning your nicest clothes. There’s a club you used to frequent in your college days, and you haven’t been back since you got the new job. It’d be nice to let loose again.
As the nighttime approaches, you’re almost all ready to go. You have your outfit and your makeup, and all you need is your shoes. Once you pick out your favourite pair of heels (comfy and not too high), you make your way down. You can feel the excitement pounding out of your chest and you can’t wait to get the night started.
As you enter the club, your body immediately relaxes as you take in the atmosphere. It’s been so long, you’re just excited to have fun. Get drunk, find a nice guy, and forget your problems. You down drink after drink, hyping yourself up, but as late night comes, nothing happens. With a sigh, you plunk down your last drink, feeling the buzz of the alcohol burn in your veins.
Nothing will happen tonight, and you just have to come to terms with it. You place down a couple of bills to pay off your tab, tip, and stumble out of the bar. You’re plastered. You can hardly walk in a straight line and you lean against the cool brick for a minute, letting the sensation sober you up a bit as you do your best to call up a taxi.
But before you can do so, a hand creeps onto your bare waist and your head snaps up to see a man, no younger than fifty, leering at you. “Uh, hi?” you slur out, your hands fiddling with your phone as you try and discreetly move to the phone app. You may be plastered, but you’re not a fool and you know what could happen in this situation.
Unfortunately, the old man seems to know what you’re trying and he grabs one of your wrists. “Now, pretty lady, take a break there. Why don’t you come hang out with me for a bit?” His words are greasy and slimy, and you almost gag at the idea of what he’s insinuating. At least Seonghwa isn’t triple your age…and he’s hot.
“Ah, no thanks,” you manage to push past him, pressing your most recent contact and holding the phone to your ear. “I’m a little uh…” You’re cut off when whoever you call starts speaking.
“(Y/N)? Why are you calling me? It’s nine.” Seonghwa’s voice crackles through the receiver. “Are you okay?”
“Ah, shit,” you groan, stumbling to your side and colliding with the wall. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to call you. I’m just out and–”
Once again, the old man approaches you and pulls you back by the waist. “Come on, pretty. Get off the phone and pay attention to me.”
You shake your head and pull away again, moving even more down the street. “No, no, I’m not– just leave me alone. I want to go home,” you say, shaking your head, still holding the phone to your face. “Just…I wanna go home.”
“(Y/N), are you okay? Where are you?” You can hear the worry in Seonghwa’s voice rise and a faint jingling of keys. “I’m going to get you. Wooyoung’s here so he can watch Jihee. Talk to me, (Y/N).”
“I’m at the club Desire. Or near it. I don’t know.” Your head is muddled and no matter where you look, the street signs are blurring and the old man is still trying to get your attention. “I just want to go home,” you repeat, tears springing to your eyes. “I thought I told you to leave me alone!”
The old man growls at your tone, grabbing at you again. “Don’t be stupid, child. You can come home with me and I’ll teach you how to be proper for a man like you.” His breath reeks of alcohol and bad breath and you instinctively slap him across the face. Surprised, he jerks back, and you take a couple of shaky steps back again.
“Leave me be! I don’t want you near me.”
The old man’s eyes narrow at you and he takes one menacing step forward, his hand raising to strike you but you bring up your arms to block the slap, whimpering in pain when the hit lands and your phone clatters out of your hand. “You insolent child!” Your eyes squeeze shut and you hope Seonghwa gets there soon.
-
Seonghwa has never driven so fast in his life. He’s racing through the lights and he counts his lucky stars that they’re all green and that the police aren’t around right now. He can hear arguing coming from his phone and he’s calm enough knowing you’re at least still on the phone. But then he hears a noise and what he assumes to be your phone falling on the ground. “Fuck,” he mutters to himself. “Please, please be okay, (Y/N).”
Stepping on the gas, he roars around the corner to the club you mentioned, praying you’re still there. As he gets out, he’s looking around but can’t seem to find you. “(Y/N)?” he calls out. “Where are you?”
He races down the street to find you pinned against the wall, your hands attempting to push an old geezer away and he sees red. He marches right up, grabbing his arm and pulling him away from your shaking figure. “Fuck off,” he growls in his face, delighting in the fear that moves across his face. “Don’t let me catch you near this place again. Now fuck off!”
He practically throws the old man to his knees before turning and cupping your face. “Seonghwa,” you practically sob. He can still see the drunken haze in your eyes but it’s almost completely cleared up now and his brow furrows even more.
“Come on, I’m taking you home.” He pulls you along and you do your best to keep up with him in your inebriated state. “I can’t believe you would do this! Have you no sense of security? Why didn’t you get anyone to come with you? Why would you call a taxi outside of the establishment?”
He still opens the car door for you and you slide immediately in, eyes staring wide at the pristine dashboard. He slides in and puts the car in the ignition before sitting back and groaning in frustration. “I hope you’re ready to talk as soon as we get inside,” he gripes. “I still am so shocked, (Y/N). You act so mature about Jihee, but what happened then? You could’ve been hurt…no, you were hurt!”
He continues his rant driving up to your street, ushering you into the elevator and into your place. “Do you know how my heart dropped when I saw you struggling? I don’t want to see you hurt. You need to take care of yourself.”
As he yells at you, his eyes rake over you to see if you’re injured any further, but something else stops him and the words die in his throat. You’re wearing a sheer shirt, your lacy bra underneath just showing off your chest. Your leather skirt has ridden up your thighs and your eyes fill with unshed tears. And something burns in his brain.
It’s been months since he hired you, and with each passing day, he finds himself more and more attracted to you. He berated himself every time these unwanted thoughts popped into his head. Sure, you’re sweet, good with kids, and are passionate about what you care about. But you’re also so young. You can do so much better than him, a single father with no prospects.
But seeing you like this, heat sparks in his gut and he leans in, his face mere inches away from yours. “When you wear things like that, it makes me want to rip them off you and do things even that creep couldn’t even imagine,” his low voice pierces through your thoughts and your mouth gapes open.
“I’m okay with that,” you whisper, hand reaching out to brush against his chest, but Seonghwa blinks as he realises what he just tried to do, and he jerks back. Your eyes flash with hurt and Seonghwa would like to hit himself for doing that to you but he can’t let you come onto him when you’re still drunk.
“I– I’m sorry,” you whisper, your hands reaching behind you to steady yourself on the wall. “I just felt so lonely. I wanted to be wanted.” 
Seonghwa’s breath stutters as he stares down into your wavering eyes. “I–” He wants you so bad. But he can’t bring himself to say it. Not when you’re drunk. “Go to bed. We’ll talk in the morning.”
He turns away and hears your disappointed sigh alongside your footsteps trudging to your bedroom. With a groan, he sits on the couch with his head in his hands. He wants to reassure you, but he can’t help but feel guilty about it. But he’s still straining in his pants and after locating your bathroom, he sits on the shower bench, leaning against the cool tile and breathing in and out. With a groan, he unzips his pants and pulls out his half-hard cock. The feeling of regret rises but he pushes it down to his gut as he spits in his hand and presses his thumb against the head of his dick.
As he wraps his hand around his cock and pumps it, he can’t help but close his eyes and imagine you. You with your mouth wrapped around his cock, with your hands gripping his thighs. You seated on his throbbing member, grinding your hips against him as you lean down to kiss him. He can feel his dick jump and he wonders what it’ll feel like to fill you with his cum.
He lets out a broken moan as his grip turns tighter. His image of you would scratch your nails down his back. He can almost hear your little whines and breathy moans as your hips work over him. You’d lean in and whisper into his mouth, “Seonghwa, fuck me hard,” and—
Seonghwa sighs as he looks down at his cum-coated hand and the mix of shame and relief swirling around his brain. Maybe he should just go to sleep on the couch and hope he doesn’t dream of you. As he washes his hand and goes to lie down, he can already feel a stress headache coming on. He hopes you’ll at least fare better in the morning.
-
When you awaken, you have a throbbing pain in your head and you groan and roll out of bed. You’ve taken your club shirt off as well as your skirt, but your bra and underpants are still on. You’re sure your makeup is smudged too and you have no clue how you got home but all you want is some coffee and oatmeal.
You trudge to the kitchen, rubbing your eyes from sleep. There’s a blanket fallen on the floor so you toss it onto the couch and head straight into the kitchen to start your coffee maker. As you lean against the counter and yawn.
“(Y/N), are you feeling better?”
A voice calls out from behind you and you shriek, whirling around to see a sleepy Seonghwa, blanket wrapped around him and his hair a mess. You shriek again, realising how little you’re clothed and duck behind the counter, your cheeks flaming and your heart beating faster than you ever thought it could.
“What are you doing here?” you force out, your voice tight.
“Do…do you not remember last night at all?” You do remember most of what happened. He took you home, but that’s about as far as you remember. And you’re not sure you want to know the rest of it. But you’re far too embarrassed to admit, so you put your acting skills to use. You’re not sure you can handle the shame of a real conversation.
“What?” you ask, forcing your voice to pitch higher as you slowly stand back up, hands covering your chest. “I didn’t– Oh my God, I’m so sorry if I came onto you. I was drunk, I must’ve been out of my mind. Please accept my deepest apologies.”
You notice Seonghwa’s eyes trail down to your chest and then snap back up to your face as if he’s forcing himself to and he chokes out a breath. Despite the headache, your mouth twitches. Maybe you’re still a little out of it. “No, nothing like that. I fetched you from the club because you called me to save you from a creep. Then I took you home and we slept.”
You sigh. “I’m glad. I do apologise for whatever my behaviour was. It was out of line and it won’t happen again. I understand if you want to let me go–”
“No!” Seonghwa’s outburst surprises you and your eyes widen. The lack of clothes you’re wearing has been long forgotten and you move around the counter to stand in front of him. Seonghwa has the decency to look a little embarrassed at the volume of his voice. “Sorry. I just…it’s like you’re a part of our family already. I care for you just as much as I care for Jihee.”
Ah. He thinks of you like a child. Your suspicions were right. You turn slightly to face away from him, trying to keep the disappointment out of your voice. “I see. Well, I appreciate that. It’s nice to have a second family,” you chuckle, internally beating yourself up. How could you even entertain the thought of the two of you being together? “Let me change, and I’ll walk you out.”
As you return to your room, you finally let your heart sink as tears brim in your eyes. You hastily wipe them away as you rummage in the pile of clothes on your bed for something fairly appropriate to wear. First, you make a fool of yourself in front of Seonghwa, and then your crush is unfounded. You can’t seem to catch a break.
With a sigh, you pull on some shorts and a large shirt before heading back out. “Hey, (Y/N), could we talk first?” Seonghwa asks, still standing in between the kitchen and the living room as his eyes flit around nervously.
After some hesitation, you finally find your voice. “Sure? What’s up? You can sit on the couch if you want.”
Seonghwa takes a seat, hiking up his sweatpants and you move to the floor across the little coffee table. “Last night…you told me something.” Oh no. This is it. You bite your lower lip and look down, awaiting his next words. “Uh. So. You think you came onto me, right? Well. It was. Uh. It may have been me.”
You blink at him foolishly as your brain tries to wrap itself around your head. “You what?”
Seonghwa raises his hands and lowers his head ashamedly. “Let me explain, please. I saw you outside with that horrid excuse of a human and something in me snapped. I just wanted to protect you and I brought you home. But seeing you in that outfit? It just made me want you. And I told you. And you reciprocated. At least, you tried to.” He chuckles a little to himself, bringing up his hand to grip at his hair. “I told you we would talk in the morning. But one thing you said stuck with me. You wanted to be wanted. And all night I’ve been thinking about it. (Y/N), you were drunk. But you weren’t that drunk. Something you said had truth to it. Please. For my own sanity, tell me how you feel about me. Please.”
His voice cracks at the last syllable and something in your heart hurts at the sound. “Seonghwa I…I do care for you. More than I should. You’ve shown me unbendable compassion and you’ve never taken my words or myself for granted…or treated me like a child. Against my better judgment, I’ve fallen for you.” You sigh, tightening your fists. “I’ve been hating myself for the better part of six months because of it. You were so much better than me. In job, in maturity. What was I supposed to do? I went to the club to forget you, but it appears that didn’t work.”
Seonghwa stands quickly, shuffling over to kneel in front of you. “How could you think such a thing? Me better than you? Don’t make me laugh. I may be older than you, and yes, I have a better-paying job. But in the end, how could you compare? You’re amazing with Jihee. You’ve managed to teach her in ways I could hardly hope to imagine. And just because I have a higher wage doesn’t mean your job is less important. I wasn’t lying when I said it felt like you were already part of the family.”
“You told me you thought of me like Jihee,” you argue, and Seonghwa laughs, leaning forward to take your hands.
“I said I care for you as much as I care for Jihee. Not in the same way, (Y/N).” Seonghwa smiles kindly. “I know if this does happen we’ll need to put a lot of care into this, but if you’ll have me, I’d like to be with you.”
You’re not sure whether this is a dream or not, staring up at Seonghwa with wide eyes. You’d be a fool if you said no, but the worries in your head won’t seem to cease. Taking a deep breath, you push them aside and smile up at him. “I’ll have you, Seonghwa.”
As soon as the words fall out of your mouth you can see Seonghwa’s eyes crinkle as he smiles and leans in, his nose almost touching yours. “May I kiss you?” he murmurs in his deep voice, and instead of gracing him with a reply, you meet him in a soft kiss.
His large hands cup your face as he deepens the kiss, and his thumbs brush against your cheekbones. “You’re so pretty,” he hums, pressing a multitude of pecks to your lips. “Last night I was so conflicted. Seeing you like that made me almost go insane.”
An idea sparks in your brain, and a smile widens on your face. Your fingers crawl up his shoulders to rest your arms on them. “How insane?” you ask, and Seonghwa’s eyes darken.
“I’ll show you,” he grows before capturing your lips with his once again. This time his arms shift to wrap around your waist and he pulls you closer until you’re practically pressed against his body. You squeak at the sudden movement but it’s swallowed by the kiss.
He pulls you onto his lap and you can feel the growing hardness in his slacks. You wriggle your hips a little, grinding down, and the moan that Seonghwa lets out is heaven to your ears. “Fuck, (Y/N). You’re so pretty,” he repeats, burying his face in your neck and nipping at the sensitive skin.
You whine at the pain blooming into pleasure and your hands fist into his hair. Your precious sounds get to Seonghwa and he groans, moving your legs to wrap around his waist and he hoists you up and brings you over to the couch. “Your noises are so pretty, baby,” Seonghwa groans into your mouth. “Can’t wait to hear them when you’re wrapped around my cock.”
“Please–” is all you can muster out and your whines only serve to make Seonghwa’s cock harder in his pants.
With a groan, he pats your ass, motioning for you to move up. As soon as your hips lift, he grabs the waistband of your shorts and pulls them down to your knees, leaving your underwear and shirt on. In the same motion, he shoves his slacks and boxers down just far enough to let his cock spring free.
“Seonghwa–”  you whine and something in Seonghwa’s stomach burns at the idea of you crying on his throbbing dick. He sits back, guiding you to sit right above his cock as he moves it to rub against your soaked underwear. Every time the angry-red tip of it brushes against your clit you let out breathy moans and it only serves to make Seonghwa impossibly harder.
“Fuck, I can’t wait any longer,” Seonghwa breathes, his free hand coming up to brush against your face. A smile blooms on your face as you bend to kiss him again.
“Then don’t.”
Something flips in Seonghwa’s brain and he lifts you, pushes your underwear to the side, and lets his cock press into you slowly. The both of you throw your head back and groan loudly at the feeling of him slowly filling you up. He’s not the biggest you’ve had but that doesn’t matter as the sting of the stretch is enough to make you drool. You can hardly speak as you whine nonsense into his ear and let your head drop to the crook of his neck.
“You fit around me so well,” Seonghwa praises, his head spinning at the feeling of finally fucking you the way he dreamed of. It was only yesterday he was fucking into his hand at the thought of you and here he is, only a few hours later, his painfully hard member inside of you. “Look at you, a mess for me. Bet you’ve never been with an older man before. Do I make you feel good, baby?”
You clench at his words. “Fuck, yes, the best I’ve had,” you babble, squirming at the already overwhelming feeling. “You’re so good to me.”
Seonghwa laughs delightedly at how gone you seem to be not five minutes in. “So precious, especially for me, (Y/N). Sitting on my dick so prettily.” He gives a little experimental thrust upwards and you gasp. The noises you make are so addictive, he can’t help but do it again. And again.
You’re panting, moaning as he fills you up so deliciously and your hands grip at his now-wrinkled dress shirt. His cool hands slide up your baggy shirt to shove up your bra and cup your boobs. The weight of them sitting in his hands makes him groan as he leans in to mouth at them through your shirt.
“Been dreaming about these tits since last night. Jerked off in the bathroom after seeing you, you know?” Your eyes widen at the admission and Seonghwa smirks at how embarrassed you look. “Wanted you so bad and you thought I wouldn’t like you in that way? You’re so cute, (Y/N).” He punctuates each word with one thrust after another.
The feeling of his dick pumping into you as well as Seonghwa’s teeth scraping against the soft flesh of your tits makes you so overwhelmed. It’s almost embarrassing how close you are already, and Seonghwa knows it, chucking up at you from between your chest. “Aw, baby, you’re so far gone. Am I that good?”
You cry out and sink your teeth into the junction of his shoulder and neck. You’re trying so hard to keep your noises down but Seonghwa isn’t having any of that. His hand finds its way to your hair, gently tugging on it until your head falls back, exposing the column of your neck.
As his warm breath ghosts over it, you stiffen, and when he moves up from your chest to lick a stripe up it and nip at your earlobe, you come with a groan. Your hips are shaking from the intensity of it but his thrusts don’t stop and soon you’re whining from the overstimulation.
And he still hasn’t come.
“Fuck, Seonghwa, it’s so much,” you groan, mouth hanging open. Seonghwa greedily swoops in to capture your lips once more, licking into your mouth as his thrusts become more and more erratic.
His dick twitches and he groans. “Where do you want me? I’m clean,” Seonghwa mumbles into your mouth.
You shift your hips a little. “I’m clean too and on the pill, so it’s on you. I don’t care, I just want you, Hwa.”
Your words spark something in Seonghwa and he thrusts upwards, once, and his cum starts filling you. It’s searingly hot, settling deep in your gut and you throw your head back and moan so goddamn loud. His throbbing cock is twitching like crazy and it’s still pumping cum into you. Seonghwa’s hand slides down your body to tweak at your nipples, thumb over your flesh, and finally come to rub little circles into your clit.
You gasp and it feels like you’re touching heaven from the extra stimulation. “Gonna fill you up so well,” Seonghwa groans. “Do you think Jihee would like a sibling?” 
Your thoughts all blur together at his sentence and you come again with a groan. Your cunt squeezes around him so deliciously and a sob breaks its way out of your throat, one that Seonghwa eagerly swallows as he kisses you again.
His thrusts start to slow down and you slowly pull off his now-softening dick and settle back down on his lap. His hands push his leaking cum back into your pulsating pussy and you sigh at the feeling.
“Well, that was quite the escalation,” Seonghwa laughs quietly as he pulls both your and his pants back up and wraps his arms around you in a tight embrace. His hand pats your butt and you squirm and slap his chest softly.
“You’re lucky I’m on the pill.” You roll your eyes good-naturedly and Seonghwa hums, capturing your lips in his yet again. He can’t get enough of your plush lips and you’re not complaining at all.
“I’m lucky to have you, period,” he sighs happily. “Thank you for giving me a chance.”
You smile and sit up, ignoring the whines that come out of Seonghwa’s mouth at the lack of contact. “Well, I couldn’t let you be a lonely old man,” you tease and Seonghwa smacks your ass again.
“Can old man do what I just did?” You’re suddenly lying on your back with Seonghwa hovering over you, a crooked smile growing on his face. “Or do you need another demonstration?”
You smile and throw your arms around his shoulders and pull him closer. “I don’t know, sir, maybe you should show me once more.”
With a nip to your lips, Seonghwa leans in and your eyes crinkle at the promise of what’s to come.
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thevillainswhore · 1 month
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The Ties That Bind Us
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Pairing: Ex-Husband!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
Word Count: 5.7k
Summary: Even though Bucky is your ex-husband, you still have to see him often because of your shared son. But the heated tension, the spark that is still very much alive after your divorce, finally reaches its peak when you come home from your date.
Warnings: Mentions of divorce, small amount of angst, mutual pining, jealousy, kissing, smut, oral (fem receiving), daddy kink, p in v sex, derogatory names, spitting, happy ending.
Author’s Note: Unbeta’d, warning graphics and dividers by @rookthorne
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“You look so pretty, Mama!” You caught your son’s reflection in the mirror, his bright blue eyes wide and in awe as you finished the final touches up of your makeup. 
You were about to respond, but the words died on your tongue at the sight of Bucky’s large form rounding the corner into the bathroom. He leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms over one another. “She absolutely does, cupcake.”
The intensity of his stare made you gulp silently, and you diverted your eyes back to your son.   
Bucky had been doing that a lot recently —looking at you differently, more longing in his eyes than usual. 
“Thank you, baby,” you said, ignoring Bucky in favour of showing your appreciation to your son. The knot in your stomach was wound too tight to try and unravel the conflict that ravaged in your mind. “You’re going to be good for your Dad tonight, aren’t you?” 
Your son did his best to try and hide the cheeky smirk on his lips — one that resembled his father a little too much. “Of course Mama, I be a good boy.” 
Unable to help the smile growing on your face, you brought him into your embrace, snuggling him tightly until he let out a loud squeal when you tickled his stomach. “I mean it, trouble. No staying up late and no ice cream before bed.” 
Instantly, his puppy eyes fell to his father, an innocent pout on his lips. “But Dadda—“ 
“Sorry kid,” Bucky held strong. Glancing to you before looking back to his son, “Mama’s rules.” 
“Oh, shucks,” your son sighed as you laughed. 
From the outside looking in, the three of you seemed like a perfect family. Picturesque and ideal — white picket fences enclosing a home that was full of love and laughter, wholesome family dinners and celebrations for each loved one. 
But things were never as simple as you wished. 
The sobering thought made your laughter die in your throat, and you checked the time on your lit up phone screen. It was almost time for your date and you were wary of being late. “Okay, cupcake. I’ve gotta get moving so I can make it on time.” 
“Aw,” your son whined, and you ruffled his hair as you made your way out of the bathroom. The air was knocked out of your lungs as you squeezed by Bucky, the scent of his aftershave he had worn since you first met him filled your nose and overtook your senses. 
You barely suppressed a moan, a sinful combination that your mind begged you to inhale one more time, while another internal voice scolded you. The lingering touch of his fingers ghosting over your waist made it even harder to listen to sense. 
Once you reached the hallway, you shook yourself and grabbed your bag from its hook by the door.  The coat over your arm was warm and comfortable as you slipped it over your shoulders. 
The telltale patter of feet over the hardwood floor bounced towards you, along with another set of heavier ones not too far behind. “Where you going this time, mama?” cupcake asked. 
Smiling, you leaned down and tucked a stray lock of deep brown hair behind his ear. “Just for dinner, baby. I won’t be out long and I promise I’ll be back to make you pancakes in the morning, okay, sweetie?” 
He nodded before stepping closer and tiptoeing up to whisper in your ear. “Make sure he treat you good because you deserve whole world.” 
Tears sprung to your eyes, clinging on to your waterline. You blinked them away quickly before your son could notice. 
Though, Bucky did. 
You kissed his forehead, and leaned back to look into his eyes. “You got it, cupcake.” 
Stepping forward, Bucky spoke up. “Why don’t you say goodbye to Mama and go get a movie set up, huh pal? I’ll be with you soon.” 
Before your son left, he hugged you. “Bye Mama, I loves you.” 
You smiled as he ran off. “I love you too, baby — and remember to be good!”
Only Bucky and you were left by the door, your blanket of comfortability was gone and you felt his eyes that held too many memories burning through you. 
“You really do look beautiful,” he vowed. 
Fuck, you internally cursed.
You tried not to look into his eyes while you fumbled with your dress. “Thank you, Bucky.” You quickly shifted the conversation. “If he doesn’t settle then text me, okay? My phone will be on loud and I’ll answer straight away—“ 
“As much as I— We would like you home, I’m sure we’ll survive without you for a couple of hours,” Bucky said, recovering from his hiccup smoothly. 
Your gazes met — you had always gotten lost in his eyes and even all these years later nothing had changed. 
Snapping out of your reverie, you shook your head and unlocked the door. “I’ll um— I’ll be back later.” 
Before you could leave, Bucky caught your hand. “Have fun, Doll.” 
And with all the strength you had, you delicately took your hand out of his, taking note of the tan line of where his wedding ring used to sit. “Bye, James.” 
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The date went as expected. 
Your company for the night wasn’t a problem at all. In fact, this was the third date you had both been on together. However, the spark you had so badly tried to ignite through bland conversations and one already ringed out similar interest fell short. 
Every date you had been on since your divorce with Bucky seemed to lack a certain something for you. Although in recent light, you had come to terms with the fact you that no one’s eyes had the same shade of blue you were familiar with. Or made your heart jump in your chest from excited nerves years after your first meeting. 
Simply, you hated the fact you compared every single man to Bucky. 
With a sigh, you unlocked your door, careful to make as little noise as possible as you walked into your home. It was quiet, almost silent, apart from those damned footsteps that eased the weight off your chest and yet caused goosebumps to cascade down the bare skin of your arms.  
Bucky rounded the corner from your kitchen to the open plan living room, a glass of whiskey in his hand in the orange hue of the darkness, provided by a single lit lamp. 
“Hey,” he greeted you, the expression on his face imperceptible. “How was your date?” 
You cleared your throat, struggling to keep your composure from the sight of his tight black T-shirt and denim jeans that deliciously hugged his thighs. “Um yeah— it was— it was okay.” 
Bucky raised an eyebrow in skepticism. “Just okay?” He laughed. “Come on, give me more than that.”
You sighed in defeat. “I told him it was best if we didn’t see each other anymore.” 
Unfortunately, there was only so much of a facade you could fake until it became noticeable to your date. It was an amicable decision with no hard feelings. But, it didn’t help to settle the confusing thoughts in your head. 
Bucky took a swig of his drink, placing it on the hallway side table before he began slowly pacing towards you. 
You couldn’t discern the look in his eyes, the way they feasted on your thighs or your waist. Backing up against the door until you physically couldn’t break free from the heat of his gaze, you could only watch as Bucky drew closer, right until you were a breath apart. 
He brought an arm up, over the top of your head to lean against the door. “Any reason why?” he asked, a husk to his tone that granted you no favours. 
A sudden pulse shot through your nerves, the ache between your thighs intense. It took everything in you to not rub them together. He would notice that you were sure of. 
Desperate to escape what was sure to be a dangerous situation, you quickly slid out of his invisible hold and hastily made your way to the kitchen to pour your own drink. Bucky joined you only seconds later. 
“How was cupcake?” you asked instead, attempting to switch the conversation to a safe topic. “I hope he didn’t cause you too much trouble.” 
“He was good as gold,” he instantly replied, staring you down. A beat later, “He whined about the ice cream situation, but I promised I’d take him out for it tomorrow and he was out like a light  — we had fun.” 
You slightly faltered as you poured the whiskey into a second glass. You didn’t miss his small innuendo of spending more time together.  
“Thanks for looking after him tonight. I know it was pretty useless anyway, but—“ 
Bucky trapped you against the counter as he placed his hand over yours, his deep baritone rumbling in your ears. “Don’t thank me for looking after my own son, you know I’d do it all the time if I could.” He took a deep breath. “If you would let me.” 
No. You couldn’t do this. 
You immediately dropped the bottle of whiskey onto the kitchen countertop, ripping yourself away from his touch to walk away. 
Bucky reached out as he followed you. “Babydoll—“ 
“Don’t fucking call me that,” you scolded, fury in your voice. 
Bucky however, wasn’t deterred. “Doll.”
“No—“
“Will you just—“ he caught you with a firm grip and spun you around to face him. “Will you stop running away from me.” 
The two of you were out of breath from sudden adrenaline, harshly breathing into each other's mouths. The look in Bucky’s eyes was wild, untamed — tortured.
“Tell me you’ve never thought about it — us getting back together.” He gripped onto your arms, his eyes flicking between yours. “Tell me I’m delusional and I’ll walk out that door right now and we’ll never speak of this again.” 
The ache in his voice broke your heart as much as the day you signed the divorce papers. 
“Bucky—“ 
“Please.” He cupped your face with his hands, glancing between your eyes and your lips while his thumb slowly rubbed over them. “I’m a desperate man, baby. I’m desperate for you.” 
You gulped, emotion bubbling over into your voice. “We broke up, Bucky. We’re divorced.” 
He laughed wetly, but there was no humour in his tone. “And that means we can’t try again?” 
The reasons for your separation seemed to blur under his stare. All the ways you weren’t good for each other leaving your mind and only making room for the good. 
“Where the hell is this coming from, Bucky?” You deflected once again. 
Your hands shook as he leaned his forehead against yours. “I can’t stand the thought of seeing you go out with another man again,” he whispered, painfully. “It’s killing me, Babydoll. It should be me.” 
Tears rushed over your cheeks, you were too overwhelmed to hold them back any longer. You sniffled as you glanced down the hall where you son currently lied fast asleep and obvlious. “I can’t hurt our son, Bucky — I can’t.” 
He smiled sadly at you, the crinkle in his eyes ever present but they only made you swoon for him even more. “There’s a reason all those dates don’t ever work out.” 
You couldn’t hear it, couldn’t take what he was trying to say. “Stop it.” 
“I know you’ve been holding back as much as I have.” 
He was pushing you, like he always did and as much as you wanted to curse him, it was working. “Please don’t make me—“
The point of no return came in the form of your most hidden secret spilling from Bucky’s lips. “You still love me, Babydoll.”
Ice ran through your veins, hearing those words out loud that you hadn’t dared let yourself believe. Your mouth gaped open, unable to find the words to deny his accusations until your tether broke. 
“Fine! I’m ruined for anyone else!” you shouted, frustrated and scared — a wild animal trapped in a corner. “You’ve ruined me — is that what you want to hear?”
His plump lips, soft and pink curled up. “It’s exactly what I want to hear.” 
Leaping forward, Bucky crashed his lips against yours. 
He was feverish as you both collided into each other. His hands, unrelenting yet gentle mapped out each and every slope of your body as you stood in the living room, feeling each other for the first time in years. 
“Fuck,” he groaned between kisses. “Fuck, I’ve missed you, baby.” 
Your head spun, dizzy with want. You hadn’t been touched in so long by anyone, never mind your ex-husband and your heart pounded erratically with nerves, excitement and longing. 
Slipping his tongue into your mouth, Bucky kissed you like he was starved, as though you were his only salvation. He ran his fingers through your hair, tugging it harshly to pull you closer to him even though there was no longer any distance between the two of you. 
“You’ve got no idea how bad I need you,” he whined into your mouth. “Need to fuckin’— I just need you.” 
Without you realising, Bucky had pushed you up against the nearest wall and even through denim jeans you could feel the hard shape of his cock while he unabashedly grinded against you. 
You broke for air, gasping as oxygen rushed to your lungs. “You have me, Bucky.” He trailed sloppy kisses down your neck as you panted, desperate to stain your skin with any trace of him. “You can have anything you want.” 
He growled, a sound that caused a gush of wetness to soak your panties. “That’s a dangerous thing to say to me, sweetheart.” 
Ripping away from you, he grabbed your hand and dragged you towards the laundry room on the other side of your house. You struggled to keep up with his fast strides in your heels, but you just about managed as he shoved you through the door and locked it behind him. 
His back was turned to you for a while and you stood nervously fidgeting, waiting for him to face you. His back rose and fell with breathless heaves, as though he was holding back — a feral beast ready to pounce. 
“Babydoll,” he said suddenly, rough and graveled. “I need to know you want this before I fuck the shit out of you.” 
Holy fuck, the mouth on this man. Your mouth grew dry while you struggled to think clearly in his aura. “I— I do—“ you stuttered, lamely.
He slowly turned around, a wolfish gleam in his eyes with adrenaline surging through his veins. He was tense as he took a deep breath. “Say it like you mean it.” 
When you stayed quiet, too hazy to speak, Bucky stalked towards you, lifting your chin up to look him directly in his eyes. “Say. It.”
Closing your eyes, you cleared your mind and swallowed before whispering, “I want you to fuck me until I can’t remember my name, Bucky.” 
He smirked, the kind you knew all too well — deadly. “Atta’ girl.” 
You sqeauled as he suddenly hiked you up into his arms, hands under your thighs so he could place you on top of the washing machine. Laundry detergents and other products you didn’t care to take note of fell from the shelves around you as he pounced on you once again, devouring you whole with his sinful lips. 
“Do you know how much I’ve had to restrain myself, Doll — Mm?” he pressed, covering every inch of bare skin you had to offer with his kisses. “How fuckin’ hard it’s been to not drag you back in the house and take you right then while you get dressed up for someone else?” 
You did. Because you understood more than anyone the pain of having to force yourself away from Bucky when all you had ever wanted was him. 
He unbuckled his belt, the telltale sound of the leather snapping against his hands and the jingle of metal sent bolts of electricity straight to your cunt.  
Your mind couldn’t keep up, your vision blurry with the sudden turn of events. All you knew was that you needed Bucky. 
“Hurry, baby. Please,” you whined. 
Bucky groaned with delight, his eyes rolling to the back of his head while he bit his swollen bottom lip. “Oh, how I’ve missed you begging for me, pretty mama.” 
Rushing to take off his belt, he slid the material through the loops of his jeans and threw it on the floor, not long after hurrying to unzip his fly and shuffle his pants down along with his underwear.
The tip of his cock peaked out of his black briefs and instantly you let out a high pitched moan, even shocking Bucky enough to look back up at you drooling over him. 
“Oh, sweetheart,” he cooed, slightly condescending. “Don’t you worry, Daddy’s gonna take care of you.” 
Bucky revealed the entirety of his cock, the length just as long as you remembered and the girth as thick as you had imagined in your nights alone with your toys that couldn’t compare. 
The slight curve that you could feel the ghost of pleasure from to this day caused you to bite your lip and squirm in your place. 
Without waiting for Bucky, you began shifting the bottom of your dress up your thighs, too impatient to wait for him to undress you. It gave you immense satisfaction when he followed the material, slowly revealing more of your skin. His mouth gaped open while he fell to his knees, the thud that sounded surely must have hurt, but there was no other expression on his face than greed. 
You stopped your dress just before Bucky could peak at your red panties and you almost laughed when his head shot up, aghast that you had interrupted the show. 
The power you held, you smirked. “You want more, Daddy?” 
Bucky dropped his head onto your thighs, his breath travelling up to your covered mound — your eyes fluttered, though you kept your breathing steady to not seem so desperate. 
Stroking your fingers through his fluffy hair, you murmured low, “Does it hurt to know my pussy is right here and you can’t have it?” 
You felt his muscles quickly lock up, his head snapping up to you with a speed that was frightening and exhilarating all at once. The blue of his irises darkened, dilating as he chuckled, “You’re very much mistaken, sweetheart. Because this pussy right here,” he shoved your dress up, spread your legs and breathed into you. “She’s mine, baby girl. And you’ve kept her from me long enough.” 
A chilled blast of air hit you as Bucky tore your panties from your waist and held them up. “You wore these slutty panties for that fucker, huh?” 
You gasped in shock when he brought them to his nose and inhaled the gusset deeply. He grunted as he closed his eyes in bliss. “Cos’ I’m pretty sure I’m the one who’s got you this soaked.” 
Your keens amused him greatly. “Bucky—“ 
“That’s right, mama,” he laughed with pride. “My name sounds so damn heavenly coming from your lips.” 
Bucky pocketed your underwear, not caring to be discreet and his thumbs came up to your cunt to spread you open to his eager eyes. “My god, baby,” he gasped in awe. Your hole clenched at the vulgar display. “You’re just as tight as the last time I had you.” 
He tested a finger over your folds, running it through the embarrassing amount of slick that coated you. 
“No one,” you breathed, shaking your head while willing your scrambled thoughts to formulate into words. “There’s been— there hasn’t—“ 
Bucky looked up at you from his knelt position, a small slither of vulnerability shining through his lust-hooded eyes. “Just me?” 
You gulped and nodded, staring into his wide blues with honesty. “Just you.”
A moment passed between you. The charged air filtered down to that spark that had always been buried through the heartbreak you both endured in your divorce. 
Bucky swallowed before placing a single kiss to the inside of your knee. “Then let me make up for that.” 
You leaned your head back against the shelf behind you as his lips traveled up the meat of your thighs, yelping each time he gently bit you. 
He murmured obscenities you could barely respond to as he edged closer to your pussy. You offered yourself freely, on a platter, as your legs opened even wider for him — the only man who ever truly owned you. 
His lips whispered over your mound, a hint for what was about to come. “I’ve been waiting to taste you again for years.” 
You moaned aloud, unhinged and unapologetic while Bucky licked a fat stripe up your cunt. Your nerves were alight with pure fire and you instantly grabbed onto the back of his head to push him further into you. 
You didn’t care if the action was needy — one single touch of him and you were a goner once again. 
He feasted on you, not coming up for air as he switched between sucking your clit and slurping your juices. “Oh my god— Bucky, baby you gotta— holy fuck.” Your eyes rolled to the back of your head.
Bucky wrapped his thick arms around your thighs and dragged you closer to him — all too happy to suffocate between your legs. “Sweet as a fuckin’ apple pie,” he murmured into you, the vibrations only deepening your pleasure. 
Looking down at him, his eyes were homed in on you, watching your every expression. They were blown out, wild while strands of his hair stuck out in every direction. 
Pulling away slightly, his heavy pants blew over your throbbing clit. “Daddy makin’ you feel good, Babydoll?” 
You hardly had time to reply as he immediately shoved his tongue into your clenching hole and fucked you with it. 
“Bucky!” you screamed to the ceiling. However, a harsh slap delivered to your thigh snapped you back to sense. 
“You know that’s not what you call me,” he barked. 
Whining, you corrected yourself. “Daddy, please!” 
You felt his smirk plastered over your pussy as he hummed into you, “There’s my good girl.” 
Your legs began to shake as you felt your climax creep to the surface and Bucky only doubled down with his sinful tongue that you somehow had forgotten he was way too talented with. 
“I’m close,” you whispered as your vision began to blur. “So close — please, please don’t stop.” 
Bucky continued his ministrations while your pussy fluttered around his tongue. Your release was within reaching distance and you gripped the washing machine, ready to let go until suddenly his presence was gone. 
You almost fell forward before you caught yourself with your remaining strength. The pent up tension that was wound in your stomach hadn’t loosened and it took you a second to realise you hadn’t cum. 
“W—what?” you mumbled shakily as you blinked your eyes open. Bucky stood there, his cock pulsing and viciously purple, with a smirk on his face, wiping his slick covered mouth with his arm. It disorientated you. 
“I haven’t—“ you swallowed the dryness of your mouth. “You didn’t make me—“ 
Bucky’s cock bobbed as he closed the distance between you, dizzying you even further with a passionate kiss. “No I didn’t, baby.” 
You whimpered in despair, the ache worsening. “But Daddy—“
“Nu-uh,” he breathed while lining his cock against your hole. “You’re only gonna fuckin’ cum when I say you can.”
Recklessly, Bucky pushed his full length into your pussy. You clung to his shoulders, your nails digging into him as the sheer size of his thick cock winded you enough to wail out. 
“Shit,” he cursed, a strain in his voice as he firmly gripped your hips. “Fuckin’ hell— Babydoll, how the fuck are you still so tight.” 
Impatiently, you fidgeted. Whether it was to escape how full he made you or try and force him deeper into your cunt you weren’t sure. All of it was too overwhelming to process.
“I can’t,” you shook your head, tears building over your glassy eyes. “You’re too big— Bucky, I can’t—“ 
“Yes you can,” he declared with conviction while he lifted your gaze to him. “You can take it, sweetheart.” 
Slowly, Bucky began to ease out of your cunt. His cock was coated with your wetness and he moaned deeply at the sight. He grinded back into you, his curved tip hitting every sensitive spot. 
“There we go,” he brushed your hair back and kissed your forehead, praising you. “Taking my cock so good, Babydoll. Just like always.” 
His touch was familiar, yet new — all consuming and claiming — and you melted into him, smothering his neck with a litany of kisses as he continued to gently thrust his cock into you. 
“M—Missed you,” you confessed, drunk from lust and emotion. “Missed you so much, Bucky.” 
The motion of his hips sped up as he began pounding into you with more force. “Yeah? You missed being a sweet little wife for me?” He taunted with an evil grin. “You loved being Daddy’s little slut, didn’t you?” 
“Mhm— Always your slut, Daddy!” You sobbed into his skin. 
His pace turned unrelenting, fierce after too much lost time. He fucked you as though he would be left out to dry after he was done. 
Grabbing your cheeks, he leaned his forehead against yours. “You’re mine, Babydoll,” he grunted. “Don’t care who’s fuckin’ taking you on dates. You belong to me.” 
Nodding your head, you fell mute, mouth gaped wide as you felt the knot begin to build up in your stomach once more. 
Bucky looked down to watch his dick glisten with your slick. The obscene sounds created from the amount of your juices leaking out only caused his cock to throb. Your cunt squelched with each thrust he made. But it wasn’t enough for him. 
Gathering saliva in his mouth, Bucky spat to where the two of you connected, groaning as it clung to your pussy and stringed out with his motions. 
Your squeals of pleasure began to get louder as the coil tightened, “I’m gonna—“ 
Before you could rush the words out, Bucky pleaded, “Tell me you love me.” 
Your eyes snapped up to his, more alert now. He didn’t falter, only fucked you with more abandon. 
“Tell me you love me,” he repeated once more, a demand this time.
“Bucky, I—“ 
“I know you do, Doll.” His hips started to twitch, his telltale sign that he was also close to cumming. However, you had an inclination that he wouldn’t let himself go until you gave him what you wanted. “I know you remember how good it used to be. Let me come home and I’ll fuck you this good whenever you want.” 
You gurgled around his fingers as he suddenly shoved them into your mouth, collecting the drool gathered on your tongue to bring them down to your clit. He didn’t ease them against you, instead rubbing tight circles rapidly, bringing you closer to the edge faster. 
It was impossible to escape his dark eyes or the fierce hold of his hand at the back of your neck. “Feels so fucking good, Daddy!” you blurted.
“I know, mama,” he assured as he drove his cock into you even harder. “Your cunt feels like heaven.” 
“I wanna cum,” you cried. “I need to cum.” 
“You know what you’ve gotta do then, don’t you, Babydoll?” 
You squeezed your eyes closed. The pleasure started to blend into a mix of pain and you were only slightly ashamed that it only turned you on more. “I—“ 
“Come on, baby. Give me what I want.” A few more punishing thrusts and you were treading the line of your impending orgasm. Your thighs shook violently and beads of sweat dripped down your chest. But when Bucky grounded out his next words, you fell apart. “Be a good wife for Daddy and tell me the truth.” 
You couldn’t hold back any longer, the balance of your orgasm tipping over along with the truth you tried to withhold. “I love you, Bucky!” 
Instantly, you felt the pulse of Bucky’s cock, a warm shoot of his load filling your cunt while you silently screamed and shook with the intensity of your climax. 
Everything fell deaf to your ears as you fought to catch your breath, slumping against Bucky. His heavy breaths blew your stray hairs sticking out from the sweat gathered on your head while his hips continued to slowly pump into you from the aftershocks of his own orgasm. 
You were brought back to the present with the gentle touch of his lips pressing against your cheeks, kissing your skin delicately. “Hey there, Babydoll.” 
While you would have normally been nervous, the energy that he had drained you of allowed your inhibitions and walls to crumble, leaving you to smile drunkenly at him. “Hi,” you whispered. 
Bucky checked you over, darting his eyes over your face. “You feeling okay?” 
“Mhm,” you mumbled, bringing your thumb up to swipe over his stubble you had always been fond of. “Freshly fucked and never better.” 
The corner of his lips curved up, a small mirth of laughter escaping him. He licked his lips and you detected a hint of nerves that crossed over his features. “I um— I’m sorry if I—“ 
You placed your pointer finger over his lips, shushing him. “You didn’t go too rough.” Slowly, you brought your finger down, hooking it into the collar of his shirt. “I enjoyed myself.” 
“Good.” He brought one of your hands up to his mouth to kiss the palm of your hand. “Good.” 
The two of you barely noticed his length still deep in you. All that you cared for was the weight suddenly released from your chest. 
“Did you mean it?” Bucky asked, cutting through the peaceful silence. He was defenseless, all guards down with a shimmer of hope twinkling in his ocean eyes. 
You knew exactly what he was referring to and you inhaled deeply before you replied, “I did.” 
He swallowed thickly, his emotion clear though his bright eyes. “I love you too — so fuckin’ much.” He nuzzled into your neck as your hand held him close to you. “I’ve missed you.” 
A lump gathered in your throat once more. Breathing in Bucky’s scent freely, without guilt this time, you sunk into his embrace even further. 
“Can I come home?” he whispered into your skin, a desperate plea. “I’ll do whatever you want — I’ll go to counseling with you, we can take things slow. I just need you back, Babydoll.” 
The answer was simple. You knew in your heart there was no one else for you, no one better. No matter your differences, everything would always lead back to Bucky and you were willing to give the two of you a second chance. 
“Okay,” you answered softly. 
His head shot up, eyes wide and red from the tears you felt gathering on your neck. “Okay?” he repeated hopefully. 
You smiled, kissing him gently on the lips before you muttered, “Come back home, baby.”
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The pan sizzled on the stove as you cooked the last pancake, a stack already piled high on the counter next to you for breakfast. 
Music played softly on the radio and you swayed your hips side to side, covered by a long T-shirt, while you hummed to yourself. 
You were interrupted from your task when a pair of thick arms wrapped around your middle, hugging you from behind tightly. “Yknow, I could have had my breakfast in bed,” Bucky grumbled into your ear, his deep morning voice causing your eyes to slightly flutter. 
You huffed a laugh before you mumbled, “I bet you could, greedy.” 
The bristles of his trimmed beard tickled your skin as he playfully nibbled your neck. “Can’t exactly blame a man when his woman tastes so sweet, Babydoll.” 
Your head started to feel heavy as you gave into his kisses, leaning back into his hold and opening yourself up for him. 
“There’s a good girl,” Bucky praised you. “You just let Daddy—“
Peaking an eye open, you watched as his hand crept forward, about to pinch a pancake from the pile. He yelped as you swatted his hand away, a pout on his lips while you grinned. 
“Nice try, Daddy,” you teased, smugly. 
Before Bucky could retort back, a sluggish set of small footsteps sounded over the floorboards and you whipped around to find your son, still sleepy, making his way to the dining table. 
“Morning, cupcake!” you greeted him cheerfully. 
With difficulty, he climbed his way onto one of the chairs, huffing with the effort and sinking down once comfortable. He looked towards you, blinking the sleep from his eyes. “Mornin’, mama—“ 
Frowning, your son looked towards Bucky, finally noticing him too. “Dadda?” he asked, confused. 
“Hey, pal.” Bucky treaded, carefully. 
Your son’s gaze fell to the lack of distance between you and Bucky, his hand still lingering on your waist. Keeping your composure, you waited nervously for his reaction. 
“He treat you good, mama?” he asked all so innocently with a hint of fierceness in his bright blue eyes. 
You watched with bated breath as Bucky stepped towards him, leaning over the table with his palm up to your son. “I’m gonna take good care of mama, “ he promised with sincerity. 
Your son deliberated for a moment before nodding his head and reached out to hold his Dad’s hand. “Okay, can I have pancakes now?” 
You sighed a breath of relief. “Of course, baby.” 
It was silent for a moment, in your small kitchen while you plated up breakfast for your family. Bucky and you shared an intimate smile until your son spoke up once again. “Just don’t forget about the ice cream you promised me.” 
Laughter filled the entirety of the kitchen, a home once again bathed in love — your perfect little family. 
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2K notes · View notes
januaryembrs · 8 months
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MAGIC BROWNIE | Eddie Munson x Sunshine!Reader
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Description: Sunshine girl accidentally eats one of Eddie’s “Magic Brownies” and he takes care of his baked girlfriend.
Word count: 3.3k
Trigger Warnings: weed obviously, accidental drug usage, quick mention of child neglect when talking about Eddie as a kid not eating enough. Reader gets undressed but no sex (eddie has a horny thought however)
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This was not how he had expected their day to go. She loved baking for him and Wayne, loved making sure her scrawny, lanky boyfriend was fed, and boy could he eat. Wayne swore he had the stomach(s) of a cow. Any food left on his plate? Give it to Eds. Food ready to go out of date? Nope, Eds is already scarfing it down. Weekly food shop was just brought in? Munson is dining like a king before the fridge door is even open.
Maybe it was from when he lived with his dad and he would forget to feed the little, jet black haired boy for days on end and he would have to be given half his teacher’s lunch when they saw how gaunt he was through his mop of curls. Maybe he had yet to adjust to the idea that he would still have food without storing it for winter like a damn bear, either way she never dared to think about her sweet Eds and his kind uncle going hungry on weeks when money was tight.
But when dessert became an option, Eddie’s sweet tooth was in heaven.
They had the house to themselves on Sundays; Wayne was always pulling doubles on a weekend to make up the extra cash, the garage was always busiest then. They already had leftovers from last night to sort them for the evening, so what else better than to cook than a thick tray of rich brownies she’d practised not even a week earlier.
Unbeknownst to her, Eddie had done his own kind of baking.
“Okay, be there for seven,” He said into the corded phone, biting at his nail as he thought. Nodding to himself, before remembering they couldn’t see him, he hummed a goodbye and hung up the phone.
“Who was that?” She asked, emerging from the loo with freshly wet hands, wiping them on her jeans as she tied the pretty little pink apron around her waist again. Watching her lean down to open the oven door, he smiled to himself, handing her the matching oven mitts.
“No one,” He muttered, shamelessly watching her ass as she bent down to pick out the hot tray, “Just got a package to drop off later,”
“What, like to the post office?” She asked, her eyes flicking to him innocently, shoving the pan out for him to smell.
Smiling toothily at her, as if he knew a secret she didn’t, he kissed her forehead sweetly. “Where else would I take a package, sweet girl?” He murmured, before shoving his finger in the centre of the chocolatey goodness with a childish raspberry blown through his cherry lips.
Hissing when his finger met the hot sugar in the centre, he shoved the digit into his mouth with a groan of delight and pain.
“It’s still hot, honey,” She scolded, putting the tray onto the side to assist the frowning boy.
“You’re still hot, baby,” He said, his words distorted by his finger being in the way of his tongue. Pulling it from his mouth, she inspected the spit covered skin carefully, seeing where it raised red slightly.
Giggling at his words, she kissed the tip gently, unaware of the way his eyes seemed to follow the way her mouth pressed to his burn so carefully, feeling his tummy shiver at his girlfriend's pure actions.
“Feel better Eds?” She asked, looking up at him with hopeful eyes, his tongue going dry immediately. His chin bobbed for a second, scrambling for words, before he nodded wordlessly, turning away from her before she could see the way his cheeks blazed a rosy heat of their own.
“Um, I just gotta-” He stammered, heading for his room as she pulled out a sharp knife to cut the slab into segments. His mouth was dry as he dug out the brownies he’d made himself two days prior, though these weren’t as chocolatey as his sweet girlfriend’s and more rammed to high (ha) heavens full of weed.
Did he prefer the taste of hers? Yes, any day of the week she was an amazing cook. Had he burnt the top and left a thick crust whilst somehow managing to undercook the middle? Yes, though he was still at odds with himself just how he’d done so. But were his little gooey creations going to see him and Wayne through two weeks of rent? Absolutely.
Dashing back to the kitchen with the blue tupperware under his arm, he stopped long enough to see her transferring them into some kitchen paper inside her own container, her fingers gentle enough to carve ice let alone handle confectionery.
“I’ll be right back, just gotta take care of some things. How about I swing by Family Video on the way back and rent us The Shining?” He asked, a large, scuffed hand coming up to her face to cup her cheek, brushing away the flour that dusted her eyebrow.
She scrunched up her nose, but kept his doe gaze nevertheless, big, Bambi browns staring down at her, entranced.
“I dunno, Eds. I like those films but they always make me wanna puke afterwards,” She said, lips twisting in disgust, “Plus I get kinda scared when Wayne’s not home anyway, I don’t wanna be thinking of crazy axe wielders. Hawkins is crazy enough as it is,”
Putting the tupperware on the side, next to her pretty pink one, he took her warm cheeks in his grasp and tugged her face closer.
“Which is where I come and hold your hair back and protect you from the intruders, silly girl,” He asked, a kiss going to the tip of her nose, “What does my lady want instead then? Gremlins?” Another to her forehead, “The Lost Boys?” There goes another to her chin of all places, “Labyrinth? Come on, I know you have the hots for Bowie as a Goblin King ya’ little freak,” He blew a raspberry on the apple of her cheek, a big wet kiss following it.
Giggling some more and shoving him away, rubbing her face on her shoulder, “How about E.T?” She asked, her hands coming to rest on his wrists.
He stilled, eyes wide with his own grimace. “E.T? Now that’s a scary movie,” He said, watching his girlfriend roll her eyes and smirk, “I’m serious. That wrinkly mother fucker gave me nightmares, with his extendable neck and his weird eyes and shit-”
“Alright, alright, Labyrinth it is.” She conceded, leaning on her toes to kiss him sweetly on the mouth, “I’ll still need you to hold my hand all night, alright Goblin King?” She asked, watching his cheeks flush as she leaned in closer to him, “Movie night rules, unfortunately,”
He couldn’t remember if he’d said anything, just that his mouth had moved in some kind of agreeing motion, his eyes trained on the way she licked her pretty lips as she leaned in for another kiss. Two years together and she still had his heart hammering away behind his ribcage whenever she kissed him.
He barely remembered getting in his van with the package, its hot pink lip staring at him from the passenger seat, the thought of her shampoo smell invading his nose whenever she got so close he could see each individual pigment in her eye. He barely remembered dropping it off, other than taking the money and wishing his customer a good evening, “I know I will be,” He said under his breath, flooring it to Family Video.
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“One Goblin King and empty hand at your request, fair maiden,” Eddie said, practically tumbling through the door, his van all but ditched in the driveway. Looking around for his sweet girlfriend, he furrowed his brow when he heard not even a peep in response. Usually she would be bouncing over to him with a kiss ready on her lips made just for him, maybe even a bowl of warm, buttery popcorn if he was really lucky.
But nothing.
Twitching the curtains, he made sure her car was in the drive, and just as he’d thought, she’d not left. So where in hell's gates was she?
“Baby?” He called through the small trailer, his panic starting to set in. Surely an intruder would have taken jewellery or money, not a whole woman for christ sakes. Maybe it was the past few years with the Lab being shut down for its dangerous radiation, or the talk of the Russian’s invading their little town, or even that Summer kids went missing from their friend’s pool party, he didn’t know. She was probably just waiting behind the door to jump out at him, or some dumb trick like that. She probably was just in his bedroom getting changed or something like that.
He had never moved through the little hallway so fast, hating how quiet it was.
His heart dropped when he saw his tiny room empty. His unmade bed that he had never seen looking smart sent him over the edge. Was there a struggle? Had his wardrobe door always open? Of course it was, he was a master of leaving things unfinished. He’d leave a sandwich without filling if he wasn’t always so damn hungry. No, he was being silly. There was nothing off about his room, nothing that screamed kidnap other than the god damn silence- why was it so damn quiet-
Then he heard a creak from the bathroom, and it was like his chest took a xanax. “You in there, honey?” He called, doubling back on himself to stand outside the white door, leaning in closer to hear inside. Hearing still no response, he practically melded with the wood, cheek squished against the cold wall, “Baby?”
Nothing, nothing but slight movement from the other side.
Huffing, he reached for the handle, “I’m gonna come in, alright? I’m just checking you’re okay, I’m not a peeping Tom or anything-“
Their bathroom was tiny, was only there for usage over luxury, but it was cosy. Yet, it couldn’t have prepared Eddie for the odd sight. His girlfriend, seemingly playing with something in her hands, fully clothed in a half filled bath, her denim jeans submerged, socks still on her feet, top floating riding up to her chest with the water pressure.
Staring at the back of her head for a moment, the confusion clear on his face, he looked around for anything that could help explain the odd situation, before his eyes fell back on her.
“You alright, honey?” He asked, approaching her carefully, though it took all of one step to make it to the small, PVC tub. Her head lolled to rest against the wall, and she seemed to have only just noticed him standing there.
“Edsy!” She said, smiling dopily up at him, “I was wondering where you got off to,”
Chuckling unsurely, he rested his hand on top of her head, giving her a gentle stroke. “You alright there, Little Mermaid?”
She snorted, reaching up to show him her hands, “I was just painting my nails, see?” Except all he saw was red marker pen drawn over her fingertips, the nails more akin to a toddler coming home from preschool. Thinking she was kidding, he smirked.
“Beautiful baby-” He stopped himself, the smile dropping in an instant when he finally met her eyes. She went to look away, her hand holding the red crayola pen tightly to continue her artwork, but his hand shot out to grab her chin. “Wait, wait, wait. Look at me,” He swore he had never sounded so serious.
She blinked up at him after a moment, again as if taking a second to compute his order, and looked up at him with droopy lids. Smiling at him sweetly, his gaze locked in on her red corneas, bloodshot and absolutely baked expression.
“Baby, are you high? Did you go under my bed?” He asked seriously, turning her head to the streetlight filtering through the window to get a better look.
“Why would I do that, Eds?” She asked, her words drawling, quieting as she ended her sentence as if she hadn’t the energy to finish. “I just had a couple of the brownies I made and started feeling warm and didn’t wanna be sweaty when you got home-”
Hand flying to stroke his temple, he gently caressed his girlfriend’s face, understanding her issue. He must have taken the wrong fucking box.
“Oh baby, oh my sweet girl. I am so sorry.” Taking her head into his chest, he pressed a kiss to her parting. “I’ve spiked my own girlfriend, new fucking low Munson,”
“-ddie,” Her voice was muffled from his Hellfire shirt, “We gonna watch Jared?”
“Jareth, honey,” He sighed, looking down at his stoned girlfriend with a concealed smile. He felt guiltier than a sinner in church but god was she cute high. “Come on, let’s get you dry,”
Hoisting her out of the tub with his hands under her arms, he got her to take off her jeans and top as he held up a large bath towel as a curtain between the two of them, wanting to give her some level of privacy. Hearing her clothes hit the floor with a heavy thud, he wrapped her body with the big towel, feeling her hands in his hair as he helped her into his room, her feet shuffling obediently.
“Now the movie?” She asked, plopping herself down on the bed, her eyes lazily scanning over his walls of posters as if she wasn’t here three times a week. Digging around in his bottom draw for spare clothes, he tried to hide his snort as she nudged at his butt with her foot. “Eddie, now the movie?”
“Nearly, baby,” He said, handing her a grey shirt and boxers big enough to fit comfily on her. “Gonna get you a bit comfier first, I’ll make you some mac and cheese,”
“But I’m not hungry,” She said, tugging the shirt over her head with a whine, before flopping back, feeling dizzy, “You do the legs for me,”
“Huh?” Eddie asked, blushing when she spread her legs and gestured to him with the boxers in her hand.
“You do the legs, my head feels funny,” She mumbled, spreading her arms out on the bed, fingers digging into the fluffy duvet. He knew it was probably soft under her dulled touch.
Eddie and her had been intimate many times before. Hell, they’d had sex before they’d even reached the one month mark, but having her ask him to take her underwear off, even so innocently, had his face red as a saint.
“Alright, honey. I’m gonna make you feel better, get you some water.” He said, hoping she couldn’t feel how his hands shook as he slipped her underwear down her legs, avoiding looking at her private parts for her dignity’s sake, “And trust me you’ll want something to eat in an hour or two,”
“If you say so, Eds,” She murmured as he gently held her ankle to put her foot through the leg hole, doing the same to the other and pulling them over the meat of her thighs that had his mouth watering. Giving her knee a little kiss (he tried to stop himself, he did) he asked her to sit up a little so he could bring the underwear all the way up.
He couldn’t help give the softness of her stomach a kiss too as he rose to see how she was doing, smiling softly when he saw her sleepy eyes regard him with a little smile of her own.
“Tired?” He near whispered, stroking her warm cheeky with his knuckle gently. She shook her head, blinking harshly when it made her vision blurry.
“No, just feel funny,” She said, grabbing onto his wrist to keep his cool hands on her face, “But good funny. I think. Just funny,”
“How many did you have, baby?” He asked, holding onto her hand as she sat up, watching her head tip slightly at the movement, as if he could tell how heavy every part of her felt. He knew the stages of edible high well; he and Keith had been hooked on them in tenth grade, but his sweet girlfriend knew nothing about any of his ‘Magic Brownies’ he sold, and he’d intended to keep it that way until now.
“Two, I think. I think I had a bite of a third and I started feeling weird so I stopped. I thought I just had a lot of chocolate.” She said, head pressed against his shoulder as he led her to the kitchen, “Eddie, my feet are cold,”
“Oh, shit, your socks,” He cursed, heading towards the sofa. “I’ll fix you up, don’t worry honey,” He said, gently helping her sit down, her body all but dead weight.
She murmured something as he pulled away, and he could only give her hand a peck before he was rushing around, grabbing her things that would make her feel better. Fluffy socks to calm her, make her comfy, water for when her mouth got dry, plain tortilla chips for when she started getting hungry while he’d cook her some real food. He all but scowled at the weed confectionary as he passed it, hating the fact he had unknowingly gotten his girlfriend into such a state.
He took barely five minutes before he gently rolled the socks onto her cold feet, throwing himself back down next to her, her head lolling to look up at him through heavy lids.
“We watch Jared now?” She asked, burrowing her face into his shirt.
“We watch Jared now.” He confirmed, chuckling when he felt her try to press herself even further into him, her nose jabbing into his ribs, “What are you doing?”
“Wanna crawl inside your skin, I’m not close enough out here,” She murmured, and Eddie smiled widely down at her, pressing play on the remote.
“I’m gonna pretend that wasn’t mildly creepy, baby,” He said, his arm wrapping around her to keep her close, feeling her melt into his side, “I got you some water for when your mouth goes cottony,”
“Huh?” She said, though her eyes were zeroed in on the screen, his words a jumble in her ears. Nosing her hair line, he chuckled, kissing the tip of her ear and stroking her arm.
“Nothing, just watch your film, honey,” He said, his words a sugary glaze as he looked down at her zombie-like expression.
He had a lot of ass kissing to do in the morning.
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