#{ chaos club; flicker }
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me and @angry-geese’s masterpiece from pre movie night whiteboard collab 🙏 “long ago, the four nations lived together in harmony”
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baby, darling, light of my entire life
pairing: csc x fem!reader genre: tooth-rotting fluff, established relationship, slice of life | wc: 2.4k au: married au! warning: alcohol consumption (by the reader) | rating: e for everyone
summary: it's laughable how much you forget when you drink.
a/n: one day when i say i’m writing a drabble i will actually write a drabble. one day. that day is not today. // the cheol angst is taking forever so here have some fluff as a precursor // flashbacks in italics!
“WOW,” you shout (very loudly, he thinks) in Seungcheol’s ear. “YOU’RE LIKE, REALLY PRETTY!”
Seungcheol flinches, rubbing his ear as your voice cuts through the pounding bass of the club. The flashing lights reflect off the crowd around you, turning everything into a blur of motion, but all Seungcheol can focus on is you—his overly drunk wife—looking up at him with wide, dazzled eyes like he’s some stranger you’ve just met.
He had known this would happen. Letting you go out with Jeonghan, Joshua, and their girlfriends without him was practically inviting chaos into the night. He would’ve joined you if work hadn’t held him back, and guilt had gnawed at him all evening for canceling plans yet again (was it guilt, or fear of retribution from Jeonghan? He’d never tell). He’d figured he could catch up with you at the club before things got too crazy.
Clearly, he’d been wrong.
When Seungcheol finally arrives, the table your group has reserved is a mess of empty glasses, and the dance floor is packed with bodies swaying to the beat. It isn’t hard to spot Jeonghan trying to keep you out of trouble—tall and exasperated, attempting to pull you away from a guy you seem hellbent on kicking in the balls.
“I’LL LET YOU KNOW THAT I HAVE A BOYFRIEND,” you screech, words slurring together and voice so loud Seungcheol can hear it on the other side of the dance floor. “AND HE’S THE BESTESTEST - LET GO OF ME!”
Jeonghan, bless his soul, is no match for your drunken ferocity, and lets out a startled yelp as you yank your hands free from his grip and stalk away in a huff. Seungcheol watches with growing amusement as you stumble toward where he stands on the dance floor, eyes lighting up the second you spot him.
“WOW,” you repeat, stopping just inches from him, blinking up at him with childlike awe. “YOU’RE LIKE, REALLY PRETTY.”
Seungcheol can’t help but chuckle under his breath. Your wobbling stance, the way your gaze fixes on him with the same starry-eyed amazement as if you’re seeing him for the first time—it’s all too familiar. He leans in slightly, humoring you.
“Oh really?” he teases, though his lips twitch with amusement. You’re giving him the same starry-eyed look you gave him when you first confessed—though, admittedly, you’re significantly less intoxicated now. Well… maybe not that much less. “You think so?”
You’d had one too many drinks, laughing hysterically with Jeonghan and Joshua about something stupid—something Seungcheol couldn't even remember now. All he could remember was the way your eyes had kept flickering to him, playful but shy, as if you had something on your mind but weren’t quite sure how to say it. He’d leaned in close, pretending to listen to Jeonghan’s nonsense, but really, he was trying to get closer to you.
“Hey, Cheol,” you slurred that night, your voice softer than the buzz of the club, but enough to catch his attention. Your cheeks were flushed from the alcohol, your hair falling messily into your eyes, but there was a different look behind them this time—something more serious.
“Yeah?” Seungcheol had leaned in, smiling softly. You were always cute when you were drunk, but tonight, something felt... different. You weren’t just tipsy; you were nervous.
“I have a secret,” you whispered, as if you were sharing the world’s biggest conspiracy.
Seungcheol blinked, amused. “Oh yeah? What’s that?”
You took a deep breath, looking around as if you were checking for eavesdroppers before meeting his gaze again. “I...I think you’re really pretty - like. REALLY PRETTY,” you blurted out, your eyes wide with sincerity. “And I think I really, really like you.”
The words hung in the air between you, and Seungcheol remembered feeling his heart skip a beat. He’d liked you for months at that point—he was pretty sure the whole group knew it—but you’d never given him any real sign that you felt the same way. Until now.
“You like me, huh?” Seungcheol had teased, leaning closer, his lips inches from yours. “Or are you just saying that because you’re drunk?”
You had frowned, swaying slightly, but your hands had reached for him, gripping his shirt tightly as if he might disappear. “No, I mean it. I like you,” you had insisted, your eyes growing glassy, a little too honest for your own good. “I don’t wanna be just friends anymore. I want you to be mine.”
Seungcheol’s chest had swelled with affection. “Well,” he had whispered back, brushing a loose strand of hair from your face, “I think I’ve been yours for a long time, baby.”
You had blinked at him, confusion flickering in your eyes before a slow, wide smile spread across your lips. “Wait, really?” you asked, the disbelief clear in your voice.
Seungcheol had chuckled, pulling you into his arms then, your confession making his heart race. “Yeah, really,” he whispered before finally closing the distance, pressing his lips against yours.
Seungcheol’s heart swells as he looks at you, those same glassy, honest eyes reflecting an undeniable truth. In this moment, even if you don’t fully recognize him, he can feel it—the love you hold for him is woven into every glance, every flicker of emotion. It’s a warmth that wraps around him, grounding him despite the chaos.
“Yeah,” you breathe, nodding vigorously as if this is the most important fact you’ve ever shared. “But I can’t talk to you,” you add in a whisper, glancing around as if someone might overhear. “I have a boyfriend.”
Seungcheol raises an eyebrow, his lips twitching at your secrecy. “A boyfriend, huh?”
You nod, taking a wobbly step closer. Your hand lands on his arm, fingers curling around the fabric of his jacket like it’s the only thing keeping you from falling over. “Mhm. He’s got these big, strong arms… like yours,” you muse, eyes drifting over his frame with an approving once-over. “And the cutest smile ever. And—wait, are you his twin?” you ask, your voice suddenly full of suspicion.
Seungcheol barely manages to contain his laughter. “No, baby, I’m not his twin.”
Your face brightens again. “Good, because I’m not allowed to flirt with anyone who’s not him,” you declare, though the way you’re still clutching his arm suggests otherwise. “But you’re really pretty, so don’t get any ideas.”
You turn to walk away and suddenly whip back around, pointing an accusing finger in his face. He almost falls over. “And DON’T call me baby! Only my boyfriend can call me that.”
Seungcheol lets out a long, suffering sigh, rubbing a hand over his face to hide his grin. “Baby…”
“HEY! NO!”
He steals a glance at Jeonghan, who has now joined Joshua and their girlfriends at the edge of the dance floor, clearly done with playing babysitter. Jeonghan gives him a knowing smirk, mouthing good luck before turning away. Seungcheol’s patience wears thin, but he can’t help the fond smile tugging at his lips as he looks at you, swaying slightly under the flashing lights of the club. You’re an adorable mess: cheeks flushed from alcohol, eyes wide and glassy as they struggle to focus on him. Every time the music pulses, your body sways, and Seungcheol instinctively tightens his grip on your waist to keep you steady.
“Baby. Darling. Light of my entire life.” His hands slide from your waist to your shoulders, squeezing gently, trying to ground you in the midst of your drunken haze. He crouches slightly, so he’s at eye level with you, his dark eyes locking onto yours with a tenderness that makes your heart skip. You blink up at him, clearly confused, your brows knitting together as if trying to figure out a puzzle too complicated for your current state.
“I. Am. Your. Husband,” he says, his words slow and deliberate, almost as though speaking to a child.
Your eyes widen dramatically, hands flying to your chest as if struck by some earth-shattering revelation. “No way!” you gasp, your voice filled with pure astonishment. Your gaze roams over him as if you’re seeing him for the very first time. The lights of the club flicker against his face, casting shadows over his sharp features, and for a second, even in your drunken state, you marvel at just how beautiful he is. “Are you serious?!” you whisper, your tone full of awe.
Seungcheol closes his eyes for a brief moment, fighting back the laughter bubbling in his chest. He leans in, closer this time, until his lips brush against your ear. The familiar warmth of his breath sends a shiver down your spine. “Yes, I am very serious,” he murmurs, the teasing lilt in his voice sending butterflies into your already churning stomach.
You blink up at him again, head tilting slightly as if processing this newfound information is a monumental task. The room seems to spin a little, and you reach out instinctively, clutching at his arms to steady yourself. “But…” you start, your voice trailing off as you bite your lip, your brows furrowing in deep confusion. “Why didn’t anyone tell me I’m married?”
Seungcheol groans softly, though a smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. He pulls you in by the waist, his strong arms wrapping around you like a protective barrier from the chaos around you. “You were at the wedding, baby,” he says, exasperation dripping from every word, though his tone is laced with affection. “You were the bride.”
Your eyes flutter as you stare up at him, still trying to wrap your mind around this incredible information. The flickering lights above, the faint scent of alcohol and sweat from the club, the warmth of Seungcheol’s arms around you—it all feels dreamlike. “Wait, so… you’re my boyfriend and my husband?” you ask, your voice rising in a mix of disbelief and wonder.
“Yup,” he says with a soft chuckle, his dimpled smile deepening as he looks down at you. That smile, the way his eyes crinkle at the corners, sends a rush of warmth through your already tipsy mind. Even in your inebriated state, the sight of it makes your heart race. “You really hit the jackpot, huh?”
“NO. WAY,” you repeat, this time louder, your voice filled with awe as you step back slightly, your eyes scanning him again as if to check if this is all real. The music pounds in your ears, but you can barely hear it now over the sound of your own giddiness. “And… do we live together? Like, in a house?”
Seungcheol lets out another soft laugh, his hand coming up to brush a strand of hair out of your face. His fingers linger for a moment, tracing the curve of your cheek before resting gently on your shoulder. “Yes, baby, we do. You even picked out the curtains.”
The memory of your shared home floods your mind—each detail a testament to your love. Sunlight pours through the cheerful curtains you’ve chosen, illuminating the cozy living room where laughter echoes like music. The kitchen, with its warm scents of your culinary experiments and his late-night snacks, feels alive with the essence of you. Every nook and cranny speaks of the warmth you’ve woven into his life, transforming a mere house into a home, brimming with love and memories.
Your eyes widen in recognition, and you gasp, your hands clapping over your mouth. “And they’re so nice!” you exclaim, shaking your head in disbelief. “I have great taste.” You pause, narrowing your eyes at him as another thought pops into your alcohol-clouded brain. “Does my boyfriend—uh, husband,” you correct yourself with a dramatic flair, pointing a finger at him as if delivering an important verdict, “does he know how lucky he is?”
Seungcheol can’t hold back his laughter this time. It’s rich and warm, rumbling from his chest as he pulls you closer, his arms snug around your waist. “Oh, trust me, he knows,” he replies, his voice softening as he presses a tender kiss to your temple.
Even when you can’t remember him, Seungcheol feels a swell of gratitude for your love—for the quiet mornings entangled in the sheets, for spontaneous late-night adventures, for the way your laughter brightens his day.
You sigh in contentment, leaning into his chest, the weight of your body completely sinking into his warmth. The booming bass of the club seems to fade into the background as you melt against him, finding solace in his steady heartbeat and familiar scent. “He’s so lucky,” you mumble, your voice barely audible against the fabric of his shirt, but Seungcheol hears it loud and clear.
He smiles, brushing his lips across the top of your head. “He really is.”
For a moment, the world around you both seems to pause. The chaotic energy of the club, the distant chatter, and the bright lights all fade as you stand wrapped in each other’s arms, content in this little bubble of warmth. But then, just as quickly, you pull back, your brows furrowed in concentration. You blink up at him, still slightly suspicious. “Wait… does this mean I have to go home with you?”
Seungcheol’s deep chuckle reverberates through his chest as he gently brushes a stray hair from your face, his thumb lingering against your cheek. “Yeah, baby, that’s usually how marriage works,” he replies, his voice dripping with amusement.
You frown, trying to piece everything together in your hazy mind. "But I don’t want to leave the club yet… we’re having fun, right?” you ask, your tone almost pleading, as though the thought of leaving this electric energy behind is too much to bear.
At that, Seungcheol’s gaze hardens a little as he leans down, glinting with unspoken promises. He presses a kiss under your ear, relishing in the way you shiver and press against him (he can’t help himself— the dress you’re wearing right now is sin incarnate). His lips linger against your skin for a moment longer, feeling your heart rate speed up at his antics. “We’ll have even more fun at home,” he murmurs, his voice deep and sultry; he smirks when you stumble a little in his grip, knees growing weak.
But of course, he’s not getting lucky tonight—you pull back just as quickly as you melted in his arms. You squint at him, narrowing your eyes as suspicion creeps in, your drunken mind still struggling to grasp the concept. “You’re not just saying that because you’re so pretty, right?”
He raises an eyebrow, leaning in until his face is mere inches from yours, his breath warm against your lips. His dark eyes sparkle with mischief as his voice drops to a low, teasing whisper. “You’ll just have to trust me on this one.”
For a long moment, you stare at him, your heart pounding in your chest, your mind trying to decide whether or not to kiss him right then and there. The world seems to slow around you, the only thing you can focus on is him—the way his lips hover so close to yours, the way his arms wrap securely around you, and the soft, affectionate look in his eyes. Finally, you let out a dramatic sigh, rolling your eyes playfully.
“Fine,” you say, leaning in slightly, your lips brushing his with the faintest touch. “But only because you’re so pretty.”
#mansaenetwork#thediamondlifenetwork#seventeen x reader#svt x reader#seventeen imagines#seventeen angst#seventeen#seventeen reactions#svt imagines#svt reactions#seungcheol x reader#scoups x reader#seungcheol fluff#seungcheol imagines#scoups fluff#scoups imagines#seungcheol scenarios#scoups scenarios#seventeen fluff#svt fluff#seventeen seungcheol#seventeen scenarios#svtswhorehouse#svt scenarios#choi seungcheol#scoups#seungcheol fanfic#seventeen headcanons#svt headcanons#tara writes
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TWO HANDS | LN4
an: something a little different while i finish up some wips, i wrote this the morning t8's song came out, beautiful song again. i refuse to elaborate on the end, its just a short thing lolsie
wc: 1,9k
The bass thumped in Lando’s chest as the nightclub lights pulsed in chaotic harmony with the music. Fresh off the thrill of his victory in Vegas, his smile hadn’t left his face for hours, and the adrenaline still hummed in his veins. His crew surrounded him, some already leaning over the velvet rope at the VIP section to take selfies with eager fans, others raising glasses in cheers that melted into the cacophony of the club.
“Here’s to Vegas!” Max shouted, clinking a tumbler of whiskey against Lando’s champagne flute.
Lando laughed, letting the bubbles fizz on his tongue as he leaned back into the booth. His head tilted lazily toward the bar at the edge of the room, a stark contrast to the table’s revelry. There she was.
The bartender’s movements were smooth, practised—a cocktail shaker in one hand, a sly smirk on her lips as she teased a customer on the other side of the counter. Her dark eyes glittered under the flickering lights, and her sleek ponytail swayed with every step she took. She looked like she belonged here, commanding attention effortlessly, the kind of magnetic confidence that could outshine even the neon glare of the Strip.
Lando couldn’t look away.
“Mate, you even listening?” Oscar asked, nudging his shoulder.
“Sorry, what?” Lando asked, his voice distant, his eyes still locked on her. She’d just slid a martini across the counter, and the tilt of her head as she laughed made something twist in his chest. He’d been in the spotlight all night, but suddenly, the only person worth impressing wasn’t in his entourage.
“Nothing. Looks like someone’s caught your eye,” Oscar teased, catching the direction of his gaze.
“She works here?” Lando murmured, half to himself. The answer didn’t matter; he was already sliding out of the booth and weaving his way through the crowd.
When he reached the bar, she noticed him before he could say anything. Her smirk deepened, like she knew she had his attention. “What can I get you?” she asked, her voice smooth and warm, cutting through the noise.
“Whatever you think I’d like,” he replied, leaning an elbow on the counter, his grin just as easy.
She raised an eyebrow, giving him a look that felt like a challenge. “That’s a lot of trust to put in a stranger.”
“Then make it memorable.”
She didn’t break eye contact as she turned to grab a bottle, and he could already feel the heat rising in his chest.
“Long night?” he asked, watching her pour with precision.
“Always,” she said, her tone laced with amusement. She slid the drink in front of him and leaned in just slightly, her expression playful. “But the tips are good when winners roll in.”
Lando chuckled, taking a sip. “You always this charming, or do I get special treatment?”
“That depends,” she shot back. “What kind of treatment are you looking for?”
He blinked, caught slightly off guard by her boldness but finding himself grinning wider. “When do you get off?” he asked, his voice quieter now, as if to carve a space for just the two of them amid the chaos.
She tilted her head, considering him for a beat longer than necessary. Then, she leaned in closer, close enough that he could smell the faint trace of vanilla on her skin. “Three a.m.,” she said softly. “If you’re still here.”
Lando nodded, his heart pounding harder than it had all night. “I will be.”
The hours melted away in a haze of music and laughter, but Lando’s attention kept drifting back to her. Even as the nightclub buzzed around him, the moments he spent at the bar lingered in his mind—the curve of her smile, the way she moved like she owned the room.
By the time the music started to wind down, Lando was back at the bar, nursing what he swore would be his last drink. He was feeling it now, the warm haze of celebration buzzing in his blood. He didn’t care, though. He was waiting.
And then, there she was, stepping out from behind the counter, untying her apron and slinging it over her shoulder. Her hair was slightly tousled now, but she didn’t seem the least bit tired. She spotted him leaning against the bar, and a sly grin tugged at her lips.
“You’re still here,” she said, her voice low, teasing, as she sauntered over to him.
Lando straightened up, his own grin spreading across his face. “I said I’d wait.”
She raised an eyebrow, tilting her head as if sizing him up again. “Looks like you earned it.”
Without another word, she grabbed her jacket, nodding toward the exit. Lando followed her, his pulse quickening, excitement surging through him like the roar of an engine on the starting line.
Outside, the Strip was still alive, neon lights reflecting off the polished curves of his McLaren parked nearby. She paused when she saw it, her grin turning mischievous as she traced a finger along the hood. “This yours?”
Lando leaned against the car, folding his arms. “It’s my baby.”
She let out a soft laugh, glancing at him over her shoulder. “You trust me to drive it?”
He hesitated, just for a second, before handing her the keys. “Don’t make me regret it.”
She smirked, sliding into the driver’s seat like she belonged there. “Guess you’re a gambler after all.”
As he slipped into the passenger side, she adjusted the seat and mirrors with the practised ease of someone who knew exactly what they were doing. The engine growled to life, and the faintest shiver of excitement rolled through her. She threw him a quick glance, her grin sharp as a razor.
“Where to?” she asked, tapping her fingers on the steering wheel.
“My hotel,” he said, leaning back, his voice almost a dare.
But she shook her head, shifting into gear. “Why go back to your hotel when we can go back to mine?”
Before he could respond, she pulled onto the road, heading straight for the interstate. With a flick of her wrist, she gunned the accelerator, and the McLaren surged forward, the roar of the engine echoing across the open highway. The Strip’s glittering lights blurred into streaks of colour as she weaved effortlessly through traffic, her hands steady on the wheel, her confidence palpable.
Lando could only stare, his heart pounding harder than it had on the track. “You’re good,” he muttered, almost in disbelief.
She flashed him a quick smile, her eyes gleaming in the dim light of the dashboard. “I’ve been driving since I was old enough to walk. My old man ran a garage—taught me everything.”
The way she handled the car, every shift of the gear, every turn of the wheel, was mesmerising. It wasn’t just skill; it was instinct, passion, like she was born for this. The wind whipped through the cracked window, cool against his heated skin, and he couldn’t stop himself from grinning.
“You’re not scared, are you?” she teased, glancing at him as she pushed the car even faster.
“Not even close,” he shot back, but the thrill in his voice gave him away.
She laughed, a low, throaty sound that sent a jolt of heat through him. “Good. Hold on, champ.”
The McLaren tore through the night, the speed blurring the world around them. It wasn’t just the rush of the car—it was her, the way she owned every second, every motion. For the first time all night, Lando wasn’t in control, and he loved it.
When she finally slowed down, pulling onto a quiet side road that overlooked the sprawling city lights, she turned to him, her grin still firmly in place. “So,” she said, leaning back in the seat, “did I pass your test?”
He could only shake his head, laughing softly. “You’re unbelievable.”
She smirked, leaning closer, her voice dropping to a near-whisper. “And you’re not half bad at trusting strangers.”
Lando’s breath caught, the electricity between them crackling like the city lights outside. He wasn’t sure where this night was heading, but he knew one thing: it was far from over.
Her apartment was an unexpected mix of chic and raw, like her—a blend of sleek furniture and vintage touches that felt effortlessly cool. The floor-to-ceiling windows framed the glittering city below, and the hum of Vegas seemed a world away from this intimate space.
Lando stepped inside, his gaze following her as she slipped off her jacket and tossed it onto a nearby chair. She moved with the same confidence she had behind the wheel, like every step was deliberate, every motion designed to captivate. And it was working.
“Make yourself comfortable,” she said over her shoulder, nodding toward the sofa.
He settled onto the soft leather, letting himself sink into the moment. His eyes never left her as she walked to the bar cart in the corner of the room. The faint clink of glass echoed as she poured amber liquid into two lowball glasses. The soft glow of a nearby lamp caught the curve of her neck as she tilted her head slightly, considering her choices.
“You always drink whiskey after winning?” she asked, her voice light, teasing.
“Depends who I’m drinking with,” he replied, a slow grin spreading across his face.
She turned, two glasses in hand, and crossed the room toward him. Her steps were unhurried, deliberate, her gaze locked onto his. When she handed him a glass, their fingers brushed, and the brief contact sent a spark racing through him.
“To the kind of nights you don’t forget,” she said, raising her glass.
He clinked his against hers. “To the people who make them unforgettable.”
Her lips curved into a smile, and she took a slow sip before setting her glass on the coffee table. Lando watched her every move, the way she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, the slight sway of her hips as she turned to face him fully. His pulse quickened as she stepped closer, her eyes glinting with a challenge he couldn’t resist.
“You’re staring,” she said softly, her voice thick with amusement.
“Hard not to,” he admitted, his voice low, rough.
She didn’t respond, just tilted her head slightly, studying him. Then, with a confidence that stole his breath, she straddled his lap, her knees sinking into the cushions on either side of him. His hand instinctively found her waist, his fingers pressing lightly against the curve of her hips as she settled onto him.
Her lips curled into a slow, wicked smile. “Just one hand?” she teased, shifting her weight slightly to one side, her body warm against his.
He exhaled sharply, his grip tightening on her hip. “You’re trouble, you know that?”
She leaned in, her lips a whisper away from his, her voice dropping to a sultry murmur. “Two hands. I want your hands on me.”
His breath hitched, the world narrowing to just her—her scent, her warmth, the way her voice sent a shiver down his spine. He slid his other hand up to her waist, his fingers tracing the curve of her body, and she rewarded him with a satisfied hum that sent his heart racing.
Her hands rested lightly on his shoulders, her nails grazing his skin through his shirt as she leaned in closer. “You always this good at waiting?” she asked, her tone playful, taunting.
“Not when you’re around,” he replied, his voice thick, his grip on her tightening as the space between them disappeared.
the end.
#f1#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#mclaren#lando norris#lando norris fic#lando norris imagine#lando#lando norris x reader#lando norris angst#ln4 x y/n#ln4 x female reader#ln4#ln4 x reader#ln4 fic#ln4 imagine#formula one x oc#mclaren formula 1#mclaren f1#mclaren formula one#lando norris x you#lando norris x y/n#lando norris x oc#formula 1#formula one#formula one x y/n#formula one x you#formula one x reader#formula one imagine#formula one fanfiction
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I DARE YOU.
Felix x reader. (s)
Synopsis: The shy you meet the charming stranger, Felix, through a dare that leads you both into a whirlwind of a night filled with new, unexpected things. (17,6k words)
Author's note: It’s a late bday fic for Felix. I had soooooo much fun writing the smut in this one and I rarely said that so I hope you had fun too reading it x
Not this—being in a loud, dark club with Rex and her friends, a group of people you barely know, and the alcohol in your glass isn't any less foreign, a poor substitute for your usual chamomile tea.
A typical Friday night for you usually means snuggling on the sofa with your favorite blanket, a book in hand, and a cup of tea.
The music is thumping, the strobing lights flickering incessantly, and the sheer chaos of it all overwhelms your senses. It's overstimulating, like stepping into a world where you don't quite belong.
But here you are, trying to push past your comfort zone for one night, specifically for your best friend, Rex. You make the exception because it's her birthday.
You've known Rex since high school, and to this second, you're still not entirely sure how you two became best friends.
Rex is everything you aren’t—fierce, vibrant, and unapologetically confident—while you are introverted, shy, and awkward. Yet somehow, in that contrast, you found something that clicked. Maybe it's the way she effortlessly pulls you out of your shell or the way she always has your back without needing to say much.
For almost eight years now, this unlikely bond has stood the test of time, bridging the gap between your quiet, dull world and her wild, colorful one.
However, at times, the stark contrast between you and Rex pushes you to the edge. She thrives on excitement, constantly seeking new experiences, while you cling to routine. You like the comfort of predictability—having the same breakfast every day, enjoying the calm of your familiar surroundings. Rex, on the other hand, is always nudging you, sometimes even shoving you, to break free from that comfort zone. She wants you to explore, to live a little, and while you appreciate her intentions, it can feel overwhelming. She never seems to understand that trying new, exciting things isn’t natural for you the way it is for her.
Just like tonight. Rex has convinced everyone to play Never Have I Ever, and it quickly becomes apparent how out of place you are.
Every statement, every confession, is about wild, reckless things—everything you’ve never done. With each round, your glass remains untouched while everyone else takes shots, laughing as they reveal their mischievous pasts.
By the time the group is tipsy and lightheaded from confessing their wild and naughty escapades, you are still as sober as ever, quietly sitting there, feeling even more like a fish out of water.
Rex eventually notices your lack of participation. She puts down her glass and says, “Alright, this is getting boring. Let’s change the game!”
You notice her eyes flicking to you, and you feel your heart sink. “But I’m having fun,” you assure her, forcing an awkward laugh.
Your words are not entirely false. It isn’t like you aren’t having fun—it just isn’t your kind of fun.
Rex smirks, knowing you too well. She can see through your calm façade. “Sure you are. Alright, Never Have I Ever cheated on a test?"
Everyone else laughs, raising their glasses to take a shot, but your glass stays put.
“Guys, you shouldn’t cheat on...” your words trail off as you notice the looks they give you.
“See?” Rex says, turning back to you. “It’s not fun if you’re not participating.”
You scoff, but you can't really argue. It's true. The game isn’t exactly designed for someone like you.
“I’m still having fun,” you insist with a faint smile, but even you can hear how fake that sounds.
Rex lets out a sigh and scoots closer to you. “It’s my birthday, and I want my best friend to have fun on my birthday.”
One of her friends groans, putting her glass down with an exaggerated eye roll. “Whatever, I’m hitting the dance floor.” She slides out of the booth, and the rest follow, leaving you and Rex alone.
Maybe Rex’s birthday has become a bit boring because of you, but you told her before that you would’ve preferred a small gathering at your apartment, maybe just the two of you.
“I’m sorry I’m ruining your birthday,” you mumble, feeling guilty for being a party pooper and aware that it's unfair to her.
However, Rex’s attention has already drifted elsewhere—on someone, to be exact. She turns her head back at you with her eyes twinkling with mischief.
“He’s been checking you out,” she whispers against the loud music.
You snort and shake your head in disbelief, glancing in the direction she subtly nods toward, checking if she's telling the truth.
Across the room, a guy with bleached blond hair and tattooed hands sits casually, dressed in a leather jacket. His fair skin and delicate features are striking, but you can’t help but laugh to yourself. There is no way he is checking you out—not when Rex, your stunning, lively best friend, is sitting right next to you.
Before you can argue, Rex turns your head toward him. Your eyes lock with his instantly, and your heart skips a beat. You tell yourself it's just the loud, thumping music making your chest pound like that. He smiles faintly at you, and you quickly look away, feeling heat rise in your cheeks.
“Okay, new game!” Rex suddenly announces, clapping her hands.
You blink in shock. “Wait, what?”
“Don’t worry, it’s just between you and me,” Rex says with a mischievous grin, taking a second to sip her drink.
You raise an eyebrow, wary of what she has in mind. “Okay...?” you respond nervously.
“Truth or dare,” Rex finally reveals, her eyes gleaming with trouble. “But here’s the twist—there’s no truth.”
“Rex, I don’t—” you begin, but she cuts you off by covering your mouth with her hand.
“It’s my birthday,” she says, her voice low yet commanding. “You’re obliged to do whatever I ask.”
You sigh, nodding reluctantly. Rex removes her hand and holds yours instead, her fingers cool and reassuring despite her devious smile.
“My dear best friend,” she says, that mischievous grin lingering on her red-painted lips, “I dare you to kiss that guy.”
Your eyes follow her finger, and it's pointing at the bleached blond guy with the tattooed hands across the room.
“What? No way!” You blurt out, eyes widening in shock.
“Come on! It’s just a kiss. You can do it," Rex says casually, showing how different the two of you view this dare. She then squeezes your hand and adds, "Besides, he’s been staring at you all night.”
Your heart pounds, not from the music but from the sheer terror of Rex’s dare. Kiss a stranger? In a club? You aren’t Rex—confident and fearless. You’re the girl who barely participated in Never Have I Ever because the wildest thing you’ve ever done is stay up late to study for finals.
“But I… I don’t know him,” you stammer, your palms getting sweaty on your lap.
“That’s the point of the game!" Rex says lightly. "And it’s not like he hasn’t noticed you. He smiled, didn’t he?”
The idea terrifies you, but there is also a small part of you—buried deep under all the shyness and caution—that is curious. What if you step out of your comfort zone for once? What if you do something wild, something you’d never do on your own?
As if she hears your thoughts, Rex leans closer and softly says, “You’ve spent your whole life playing it safe. It’s just one kiss. What’s the worst that could happen?”
You glance back toward the guy. He’s still sitting there, calm and collected, his long bleached-blonde hair falling effortlessly around his face. He hasn’t looked away since your brief, flustered glance earlier. Instead, he seems… unfazed, but there’s something curious in his eyes, like he’s still watching, waiting.
“I can’t,” you mutter again, shaking your head, feeling that familiar wave of discomfort rise in your chest.
Rex leans in closer, holding your hand gently. “Look, I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable. I just want you to have fun for once, not think about everything so much. You trust me, right?”
Of course you trust her. Rex has been by your side for eight years, through thick and thin. As wild as she is, she always has your back, no matter what.
The logical part of your brain screams at you to refuse, to stay in your lane. But there’s another voice, quieter but growing louder with each passing second, telling you to just do it, to be bold, even if just for one night.
You inhale deeply, your hand still in hers, and with a shaky voice, you say, “Fine. But if I make a fool of myself, I'll kill you and leave your body in a ditch.”
Rex bursts out laughing, not finding your words threatening at all. “Deal! Now go get him, tiger!” she says, giving you a playful slap on the butt.
“I can’t believe I’m about to do this,” you mutter under your breath, standing up on legs already turning to jelly.
You look over your shoulder and find Rex grinning, clearly delighted. As encouragement, she gives you a nudge in the guy's direction.
As you walk toward him, each step feels surreal, heavier than the last. It doesn’t take long before the guy notices you, and to your surprise, his faint smile grows.
When you finally stop in front of him, you don’t know what to say. Your throat tightens, and for a moment, you regret even considering the dare. But despite everything, you hear your own voice ask, “Do you mind if I kiss you?”
There's no turning back now, and it’s not like he's the type to say no, not with the way he's looking at you—intrigued. And despite the panic in your chest, there’s something thrilling about the way he watches you.
He looks at you with a mix of surprise and amusement, then his smile turns soft. “How could I say no to that?” he says, his voice surprisingly low and deep.
Not giving yourself time to overthink, you close the gap between you and him, leaning in as he does the same until your lips and his meet in the middle.
The kiss isn’t wild or reckless like you imagined it would be. It’s gentle, slow, and—much to your surprise—perfectly in tune with the moment. It feels like the first time you’ve ever kissed anyone, full of nerves, fluttering excitement, and the kind of tenderness you hadn’t expected from a stranger.
When you pull back, your hand flies to your lips, barely believing you’ve just done that. Your heart is still racing, but this time, it isn’t just from fear. You feel the thrill and rush of stepping out of your comfort zone, and you think... maybe you can push yourself a little more, just a little bit.
Absentmindedly, you open your mouth and ask, “Do you want to get out of here?”
-
It's a typical Friday night for Felix—hanging at the club with his friends, having a few drinks, casually watching the scene. The same kind of night he's had countless times. His eyes wander across the room, drifting from one group of people to another, and then… he sees you.
You're completely out of place, dressed in something someone would wear to church on Sunday, your glasses slightly sliding down your nose, sitting with your hands clasped tightly in your lap. The glass you're holding? He's pretty sure it's just an accessory for your idle hand. Then he observes the people you're with—they're clearly here to let loose and have fun, his usual type—the kind of girls who are bold and uninhibited. But you? You're different, and that’s what intrigues him.
Felix isn’t being judgmental. He knows everyone needs to blow off some steam once in a while, but there's something about seeing you in this environment that captivates him. You don’t belong here, not really, and yet here you are. The juxtaposition of your quiet presence amidst the chaos of the club fascinates him. He finds himself watching you without meaning to, drawn to how out of place you are.
Then, your eyes meet. You look right at him from across the room, and he doesn't look away. He holds your gaze, wondering if you’ll hold it too, but you drop your eyes almost immediately.
The shyness in that simple act is oddly cute because most girls he meets in places like this are bold, forward. They don't shy away from eye contact, but you? There is something sweet in your hesitance.
The second time you glance over, Felix notices a change. You're a little braver, and this time, you don’t just look—you stand up. Your steps are hesitant but purposeful as you cross the room, and before he can think too much about it, you're right in front of him.
“Do you mind if I kissed you?” you ask, your voice soft, small yet determined.
Felix raises an eyebrow, surprised but amused. He can’t help but smile at the way you asked for permission. Most girls don’t ask—they just do. But your politeness, your shyness, the way you're so out of place in this club yet standing in front of him, asking so sweetly—it's irresistible.
He looks at you, his smile widening. “How could I say no to that?”
A kiss has always just been a kiss for Felix—a simple way to satisfy some biological need, with no deeper meaning behind it. But this? This kiss doesn’t feel like that.
The kiss takes him back to something he hasn’t felt in years—the thrill of a first kiss. The kind that's innocent, pure, and full of nervous excitement. He can’t remember the last time he had a kiss that made him feel like this—something chaste but electrifying all at once.
As you pull away, Felix almost groans in protest. He wants more, needs more of that flutter, that spark. His lips tingle, and he can tell yours do too, as your hand flies up to your mouth as if you can’t believe what just happened.
"Do you want to get out of here?" you ask, your voice shy, but with a daring edge that Felix hadn’t expected.
Your charm is something else—shy and demure one moment, then bold and forward the next, endlessly fascinating him. There's just something about you that makes this feel less like a random encounter and more like something worth exploring.
Consider his curiosity piqued, eager to see where this unlikely encounter will take him next. He meets your gaze, a playful smile tugging at his lips, then he says, "Lead the way!"
You turn, feeling the heat of his presence close behind you as you make your way through the packed club. The noise slowly recedes, replaced by a focused, almost intimate atmosphere between you.
As you reach the exit, Felix places a hand on the small of your back, guiding you through the crowd. Once outside, the cool night air hits you, a refreshing contrast to the club’s stuffy heat.
Felix glances at you, his smile still in place, and asks, “So, what’s the plan?”
-
To be honest, you have no idea why you asked him out. You acted spontaneously, which is unlike you, but you know what you want. You crave the thrill and the excitement, and ultimately, more of that explosive kiss.
Without thinking, you reach for Felix’s arm, pulling him toward the dimly lit alley next to the club. The urgency between you both is palpable, the energy from that brief kiss still simmering just beneath the surface.
As soon as you're out of sight from the street, Felix pins you against a stack of old crates filled with empty beer bottles. His hands find your waist and pull you close. Your lips collide again, this time more passionate, more intense. Your heart is beating out of your chest as your fingers tangle in his long hair.
In the intensity of the moment, you lean back slightly, misjudging the proximity of the crate. Your head strikes the edge with a sharp thud, and the sudden pain makes you wince.
You gasp and accidentally break the kiss for a second, but you decide to laugh it off—you don’t want to ruin the moment.
“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice tinted with concern.
“I’m fine," you say, half-laughing.
Felix smiles, though concern fills his eyes as he leans in close. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I’m okay, I’m—” you begin to blabber, wanting to resume the heated moment by leaning in for another kiss, but you immediately stop when you notice the shift in his expression.
His hand reaches up to the side of your head, and that’s when you feel it too—the warm, sticky sensation spreading through your hair. Then, he shows you his fingers, coated with your blood.
“I don’t think you're okay,” he mutters, his voice suddenly serious. “You’re bleeding.”
You can feel the adrenaline and embarrassment mingling as the pain begins to set in.
Felix gently touches your shoulder, trying to comfort you as he guides you away from the alley. “We need to get this checked out. We need to go to the hospital.”
Oh, no! This was supposed to be your night of finally breaking out of your shell, not a night where you make a fool of yourself in front of a hot guy.
“It’s not a big deal. I don’t need to go to the hospital,” you insist, trying to brush off the situation.
He shakes his head firmly, but his hand remains gentle on the small of your back. “We’re getting this checked out. You can’t just ignore it.”
Without taking any of your excuses, Felix hails a taxi until one stops and pulls to the side of the road. He helps you get in, and on the ride to the nearest hospital, he checks on you every once in a while, asking if you're okay. His tatted hands and rough exterior are such a contrast to his gentle, attentive demeanor.
That only makes you hate how the night has taken a turn. The two of you could have done more than just kiss by now if it weren’t for you bumping your head on a stupid crate.
“Come back if you feel dizzy, nauseous, or if there’s a ringing in your ears,” the doctor says as she takes off her latex gloves, leaving the nurse to finish the rest.
Despite the night’s earlier excitement, you feel a tinge of embarrassment about the whole incident. You're thinking of faking a concussion just to stay the night in the emergency room, but you're aware that would only make him worry more about you.
Guess there's no other option but to push your way through this humiliation.
As you step out of the emergency room, you see him standing against the wall, looking impossibly cool in his rough leather jacket. With his striking features, he could’ve been doing a photo shoot for a magazine.
“Hi,” you nervously greet him.
The adrenaline has drained from your body, leaving you feeling deflated. It's like the girl who kissed a stranger in a dark alley has vanished, replaced by your usual shy, awkward self—plus, you now have a bandage on your forehead.
The magic of the night has faded, and you wouldn't blame Felix if he decided to leave now that he’s met the real you. He glances up from his phone, a soft smile stretching across his lips.
“Hey. You okay?” he asks, putting his phone back into the pocket of his leather jacket.
“Three stitches, no concussion,” you say, trying to sound casual.
“Oh, that’s a relief,” Felix sighs, visibly relaxing.
“You know, you don’t have to wait for me. I can deal with this myself,” you say, feeling a little guilty. He’s already done enough by helping you get to the hospital.
“I can’t do that,” Felix says, his voice steady.
“Why not?” you ask, genuinely curious.
“I can’t just leave when you’re hurt,” he answers simply, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
That's such an unexpected answer from an unexpected man. He barely knows you, yet here he is, waiting outside an emergency room just to make sure you're okay. That thought warms you—but then it hits you: you don’t even know his name.
“Unless I’m actually concussed… do I know your name?” you ask with a shy laugh. “Or did we skip introductions?”
Felix chuckles, holding out his hand to you. “Felix,” he says, his deep voice sending a pleasant shiver through you.
You take his hand, offering your name in return. “Nice to meet you, Felix.”
It's about to get awkward from here, you can feel it. The momentum of the night has stalled, and now you aren’t sure what to say or do. You like him, but it feels like the window to continue this spontaneous night has closed. Maybe it’s better to retreat.
“I’d better head home,” you mutter in defeat, but deep down, you hope the end of the night won’t feel as anticlimactic as it seems.
To your surprise, Felix straightens up from the wall and turns toward the exit. With a warm and genuine smile, he offers, “Let me take you home.”
-
As Felix stands outside the emergency room, leaning against the wall, he notices you stepping out, looking more like yourself again—shy, awkward, but also kind of endearing. He can see the hint of embarrassment in your eyes, like you're expecting him to vanish now that things aren't as wild as they were earlier. But you have no idea he isn’t that kind of guy, not when it comes to this.
You walk over, your voice soft and uncertain as you greet him, “Hi.”
“Hey. You’re okay?” he puts on a smile, relieved that you're okay.
“Three stitches, no concussion,” you answer, trying to play it down.
“That’s a relief,” he sighs.
Honestly, if anything worse had happened to you, he would’ve felt responsible, and he can’t live with that. Sure, his appearance might have given off the wrong vibe, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t care. You need help, so he helps you.
“You know, you don’t even have to wait for me. I can just deal with it myself," you awkwardly clasp your hands in front of you and keep avoiding his eyes as you speak.
“I can’t do that,” he says; there’s no way he leaves you alone after everything.
“Why not?” you ask, genuinely confused.
Felix doesn’t really have an answer to that, so he slowly shrugs and says, “I can’t just leave when you’re hurt.”
You give him this look, like you're trying to figure him out. He guesses you don't expect him to care, but he does, and that is that.
A moment passes in silence, and you shift awkwardly in front of him. “Unless I’m actually concussed... do I know your name, or did we skip the introduction?”
It only hits him now that you both indeed haven't introduced each other. He chuckles and holds out his hand. “Felix.”
You take it, and your hand feels warm and delicate in his. “Nice to meet you, Felix.”
You seem like you're about to wrap up the night, but he can see it in the way you're fidgeting, like you're ready to go but also unsure about how to end things.
“I’d better head home,” you mutter, your voice almost apologetic.
But Felix isn’t ready to end the night, and he can tell you don’t want to, either—you just don’t have the nerve to ask. And honestly, he doesn’t want the moment to slip away, so he decides to give you an out.
“Let me take you home,” he offers, and when your eyes meet his, he can see the relief flicker across your face.
When the taxi pulls up outside your apartment building, he watches you try to act cool, but he can tell you’re hesitating. You don’t want the night to end any more than he does, but you aren’t going to say it.
Felix has been with enough people to know when someone is too shy to speak up, and you are definitely in that space. He leans in slightly and asks, “Do you mind if I come in for a bit? I’m afraid I need to use your bathroom.”
Your face lights up with a smile you can’t hide, and he has to hold back a grin of his own.
“I don’t mind at all," you say, trying so hard to conceal the excitement in your voice.
The two of you head inside. You lead the way to your apartment, climbing the stairs, giving him a view of your back as the hem of your dress sways while you walk until you reach the fourth floor.
Thank God for that! If you climbed another flight of stairs, he would have followed his intrusive thoughts and dropped to his knees to peek under your skirt to see what kind of underwear you’re wearing.
Felix bets it's white, cotton, probably with cute floral prints. He shakes the thought away when you abruptly stop walking as you arrive at the front door of your apartment.
Once you unlock the door, you open it and step aside to let Felix in. He flashes you a smile as he steps in the small yet cozy apartment. He glances around and sees the pictures on the wall, mostly of you and a tall girl with curly brown hair. He remembers her as one of the girls you’ve been with at the club.
“The bathroom is that way,” you tell him, and Felix makes his way down the hall.
Once inside, he wastes a bit of time washing his hands, fixing his hair, checking the hair products, all the while giving you a moment to settle.
When he comes out, you’re in the kitchen, your hair now tied back into a low bun, exposing your neck and the soft tendrils of hair on the nape of your neck. You look… different, but still really cute.
“Would you like a drink?” you ask, sauntering your way to the fridge.
“Anything cold would be nice,” he answers.
You take two cans of soda out of the fridge, bringing them with you to the living room and sitting on the small sofa.
“Sit down, please,” you say, permitting him to sit in the space next to you since there’s no other place to sit.
“This is a nice apartment,” he comments, his eyes glancing around while his hand works the tab on his soda can.
“Thanks,” you mutter with a smile, holding the can of soda in both hands. It has been opened, but you're not drinking it.
"I can safely assume you live with a roommate?" he asks, then takes a gulp of his soda, which instantly refreshes him.
"Yes," you answer. "Rex, she’s one of the girls... back in the club," you awkwardly explain, confirming that he's right—she's the same girl from the club.
"Is it short for Tyrannosaurus—" he pauses for dramatic effect, "—Rex?"
You let out a chuckle and push your glasses up your nose. "Her real name is Rebecca, but she insisted on being called Rex because it's..."
"Sounds cooler?" he easily guesses.
"Yeah," you nod in confirmation, "and it's her birthday today, so..."
"That's why you were at the club?" he asks, slowly getting his curiosity answered.
"I think it's obvious that I wasn't there because of my own volition," you openly admit.
Felix can see it now—the way you seemed out of place back at the club. It isn’t your scene, and it makes sense now that you explained it is Rex’s thing. He hesitates, feeling a question burning in his mind, one that he needs an answer to, regardless of what it might reveal.
"And the kiss?"
-
Oh, no! Not this again.
Please don't say that Felix is actually interested in Rex and that he was checking her out instead of you. This wouldn't be your first time, but what a pity! What a pity it would be if that turned out to be true.
Until Felix asked about the kiss and whether it was Rex’s idea or not.
Your throat tightens, but you know you have to be honest. “Rex dared me to do it,” you admit, your words tumbling out faster than you wanted.
He nods, but you can see a flash of disappointment in his eyes—brief but noticeable. Before he can respond, you rush to explain the rest of the truth.
“But the one we shared in the alley? That was me. I wanted that,” you add.
Felix gives you the chance to explain more, so you continue, determined to make him understand. You put your can of soda on the table and inhale before speaking.
“Earlier, during this game Rex and her friends played, they were talking about all these wild things they’d done, and I just sat there... realizing how much I’ve missed out on.” You pause to let out a sigh as the weight of your confession settles between you. “I’ve spent so much time focused on studying, hitting all my academic goals, that I never gave myself the chance to live. And I don’t want to wake up one day full of regret for not taking chances.”
You look up from your lap at him—not necessarily meeting his eyes, or else you'll be a nervous wreck. “So tonight, I decided to push myself for once. The kiss might’ve started as a dare, but when I pulled you into that alley… that was real. For the first time in my life, I felt so alive.”
Felix remains quiet for a moment, his eyes searching yours, taking in every word. You can feel his hesitation, though—a cautious distance. His concern isn’t just about your head injury; it's something more.
“You don’t have to do all that just because your friends have done it,” he says, his voice gentle but firm. “You do it when you’re ready.”
His words hit home, and you feel a wave of realization. The thrill and the pressure you’ve felt earlier are starting to clash with a deeper understanding of what you really want.
You may be naïve and know little about this intimate stuff, but you're also the one who knows you best, and you know what you want—you want this.
“I’m doing this for me. I want it. I'm ready," you unequivocally say, full of conviction.
Felix’s expression softens, but doubts linger in his eyes. “I think you know what kind of guy I am. I don’t do relationships. I… casually date. I’m not a good guy.”
You can’t help but smile at that, shaking your head in disagreement at his last statement. “You insisted on taking me to the hospital, waited until I got treated, and then made sure I got home safely. If that’s not a good guy, I don’t know what is,” you lay out all the facts on why he isn't what he says he is.
He sighs, clearly conflicted, running his hand through his long, bleached hair. “I’m just not sure if you really want to do this… with me.”
“I want to do this with you," you say without the slightest doubt.
There's a reason why he's here when he had his chances to walk out of this situation. He could have ditched you back there in the club, in the dark alley, or at the hospital. He could have gotten into that taxi and gone home, but instead, he chose to come in here.
Felix is quiet again, his eyes locked on yours as he considers what you said. Then, after what feels like an eternity, he lets out a sigh, letting the last bit of hesitation slip away from him.
"We should go to your bedroom," he says, his voice low but confident.
The excitement flares up in your chest, your heart racing as you rise from the sofa. This is it. The feeling you’ve been chasing all night—the sense of truly living, of stepping out of your comfort zone. You lead him to your bedroom, each step heavy with anticipation.
When you open the door to your bedroom, you pause for a moment, suddenly feeling vulnerable. It’s strange—no one ever warns you how personal it feels to show someone your bedroom. It’s not just a room; it’s a reflection of you, of your habits, your life. You close the door behind you, your breath catching as Felix steps in and takes a quick look around.
He glances over the shelves, where countless books are crammed into every available space. A small smile tugs at his lips, a look of slight amusement crossing his face as he takes it all in. It’s like he doesn’t expect this—your quiet, introverted world clashing with the chaotic energy of the night.
But then his eyes land back on you, and your pulse quickens. You’re alone now, really alone, in the privacy of your bedroom, and the reality of it all settles over you. You can feel the weight of the moment, not knowing how to begin but wanting to. You step closer to him, hoping he’ll take the lead.
Felix sits down on the edge of your bed, his eyes still on you. He pats the space beside him, an invitation, and you sit down next to him, nerves tingling under your skin.
"You have a very interesting room," he says with a playful smile, but there’s no mockery in his tone—only genuine surprise.
You shyly chuckle, your hands fidgeting in your lap. "Yeah, I’m… very aware."
He turns to you, his gaze softening. He’s studying you, taking you in, and when he looks into your eyes, you feel like he’s seeing something deeper. Then, as if realizing something, his brow furrows slightly.
“Can I take them off?" he asks, nodding toward your glasses. "Will you still be able to see without them?”
“I’m nearsighted, so yeah,” you confirm, your hand halfway to your face to take them off, but Felix gets ahead, gently removing them for you. Then he places them carefully on your bedside table.
The world around you becomes a soft blur, but Felix… Felix is in perfect focus. He’s all you can see. His delicate features stand out, his warm brown eyes locking onto yours, his freckles like tiny constellations dusting his cheeks and nose. It’s like he’s become the center of your universe, and nothing else matters in that moment.
You get a little overwhelmed as you take him in—his beauty so striking, so close, making your heart beat out of your chest. You wonder if he can hear it too.
"Can I take your hair down?" Felix asks, his voice soft but deliberate.
Unable to provide a verbal answer, you nod. His hand is quick to reach behind your head, releasing your hair from the tie, and you feel an unexpected wave of relaxation wash over you, like the tension you’d been carrying all night had been held there, in your hair.
Felix’s fingers move through the strands gently, combing through them, letting the ends slip through his fingers. The tattoos on his hand catch your attention, and as his sleeve rides up, you notice even more ink snaking up his arm.
"How many tattoos do you have?" you ask, unable to hide your curiosity.
"I stopped counting a long time ago," Felix chuckles, a lightness in his voice that makes you smile.
He notices your lingering gaze on his tattoos, and without hesitation, he starts unbuttoning the cuff of his shirt. He lets the fabric fall back, giving you a clearer view of the designs that cover his skin. The sight of his muscles beneath the inked patterns, the veins trailing down his arm, captivates you.
"Is it okay if I touch you?" you ask, your voice quiet, unsure if it’s too bold.
"You can touch me," he says with an encouraging smile, "anywhere."
The last word unexpectedly provokes you; it was just a word until Felix gives it a new meaning now, and it's been echoing in the back of your mind in his deep, low voice. Anywhere.
With a tentative hand, you reach out, slowly rolling his sleeve up higher. The tattoos become more detailed—the lines and shading intricate—but what holds your attention is the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips. The combination of the ink and the physicality of him makes you feel a strange sense of intimacy. Afraid that you're overstepping, you let the sleeve fall back and flash him a smile of gratitude.
“You know this will be easier if you sit closer,” Felix says, his tone suggestive but gentle.
You shift closer, trying to keep your breath steady. The space between you shrinks, but the heat from his body seems to rise, making your heart race.
"Closer," Felix murmurs, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
You move another inch.
"More," he says, his voice a bit firmer this time.
You scoot a little more until finally, there’s no space left between you. Your body is pressed against his, and the warmth from him feels overwhelming, your skin tingling from the proximity.
"I think you should put your hand around my neck," Felix suggests, his voice a low rumble.
"Are you sure?" you ask, still worried about overstepping.
"Of course," he reassures you, guiding your hand up to his shoulder.
From there, you let it drift to the back of his neck, feeling the strong line of muscle beneath your palm.
The two of you are incredibly close; you can feel his breath brushing against your cheek. As if the proximity isn't enough, his hand cups your jaw, his thumb softly rubbing your cheek, sending a shiver down your spine.
It doesn't take a genius to know what comes next; you can feel it coming as the tension intensifies with each passing second.
"I'm not a good kisser," you blurt out, your insecurities successfully breaking through the haze of the moment.
"You did just fine earlier," he says, watching as his thumb swipes across your lower lip.
You try to argue, but before you can say another word, Felix presses a soft kiss to your cheek, leaving a searing warmth behind.
"Stop thinking and just..." he trails off, kissing just beneath your eye, sending a shock of sensation through you, "… do it."
Before you can process his words, his lips find yours. The kiss is electric and powerful, wiping away every doubt and insecurity. The world narrows down to the feeling of his mouth on yours, the sound of your breath mingling in the quiet of your bedroom.
Felix pulls away just enough for you to catch your breath, his hand moving to brush your hair to the side. He does it carefully to avoid accidentally touching the bandaged wound on your forehead.
"Now," he says, voice deep with desire, "we’re going to put in a little tongue."
Dazed and a little disoriented from the kiss, you nod, your brain unable to compute a word.
He kisses you again, this time slower, more deliberate, teasing you with his tongue as it slides across your lips. It’s sensual and intimate, and when you let him in, the kiss deepens, and you try your best to move in sync with him.
When Felix pulls away, he’s grinning, looking impressed. "See? You’re a natural."
Flustered, you look down, but he isn’t having it. He wants your eyes, your full attention on him, so he puts his hand under your chin, gently angling your face back toward his.
Not giving you a moment to think, he plants a kiss on your lips again—gently, but there’s intensity to it, a sense of hunger that needs to be satisfied.
At the same time, his other hand travels down to your back, tracing down your spine before he withdraws it back to your front, reaching for the button of your dress.
You've been handling it well so far, but when he touches you there, it triggers the alarm bells in your head. You try to convince yourself that it's okay; you trust Felix, and he's not going to harm you, but your body abruptly freezes, and you stiffen against him.
Felix notices immediately and takes his hands off of you, concern painted on his small face.
"Did I do something wrong?" he asks softly, not wanting to alarm you further.
First, it was Rex’s birthday party, and not long after that, you did it again by bumping your head during a makeout session in the dark alley, and now this. You sigh and look down at your lap, wondering why you keep sabotaging your life like this.
"I’m sorry, I just... I–I wasn’t ready for that," you meekly say, looking down at your lap, feeling embarrassed.
"That’s okay," he says with a soothing voice. "I’d rather you tell me when you’re uncomfortable."
Anyone else might have been annoyed or disappointed, but Felix—he’s patient, gentle, and very understanding. You feel a rush of gratitude for him.
"Okay," you murmur, nodding.
"Or you can just slap me next time," he jokes, trying to lighten the mood.
Slapping his face would feel like vandalizing the Mona Lisa, so you shake your head in strong disagreement while softly laughing, "No. I wouldn’t do that."
Thanks to you freaking out without reason, you have to start all over again, and you can only hope that Felix has some patience left for you.
You watch as he glances toward your bedside table, eyeing the small stack of books. "Are these the ones you’re reading?"
"Yeah," you reply, your smile returning.
"You’re telling me you’re reading five books at once?" he asks. His tattooed fingers trail along the spines as he reads the titles under his breath.
"Three are for school," you say, chuckling, "but the other two are for fun."
"Oh, so you do know how to have fun," he teases you with a charming smile that makes his eyes lively.
You know he's trying to lighten the mood, and you feel thankful that he indeed still has some patience left in him.
Felix picks up the smallest one from the top of the stack and flips through the pages. "Poetry," he remarks.
"Yeah," you nod, feeling a bit shy.
He looks at you with something new in his eyes. "Would you read me one?"
"A poem?" you stammer.
"No, the index page," he teases you yet again.
You laugh, feeling a bit silly for asking, and then take the book from him. You open it, easily finding the page you marked as your favorite poem.
"Okay... I’ll try," you say as you clear your throat.
Your fingers nervously brush the edges of the page, eyes glancing at the words, but you’re aware of Felix’s gaze on you. His presence is overwhelming—his closeness, the subtle intensity in his expression.
Despite everything, you begin reading, your voice low and a little shaky.
"Somewhere I have never travelled, gladly beyond any experience, your eyes have their silence: in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me, or which I cannot touch because they are too near."
Felix leans in closer, his breath warm against your cheek. His hand moves to the back of your neck, brushing the loose strands of your hair away.
You pause, feeling the pressure of his nearness, but he nudges you gently.
"Keep reading," he whispers against your skin, the warmth of his voice sending a shiver down your spine.
You swallow, forcing yourself to focus. Your voice is a little shaky as you continue.
"Your slightest look easily will unclose me though I have closed myself as fingers; you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens—"
Felix’s lips press softly against the corner of your mouth just as your voice falters. You draw in a breath, trying to steady yourself, but his kiss lingers, feather-light and teasing.
You glance at him, the lines of the poem slipping from your mind.
"Go on," he murmurs, his mouth now brushing your jawline. His hand slips to your waist, holding you in place as if keeping you tethered to the moment.
"I... I—" you stammer, your focus crumbling under his touch, his lips trailing a path down to your neck. You grip the book tighter, trying to maintain the thread of the poem, your voice coming out as a breathy whisper: "you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens (touching skilfully, mysteriously) her first rose—"
Felix presses another kiss just below your ear, making your breath hitch. He’s being gentle but deliberate, his lips grazing your skin with an intention that makes it almost impossible to concentrate.
Your heart bursts, the words on the page becoming blurry. "Felix..." you murmur, caught between the poem and the sensation of his kisses.
"Don’t stop," he whispers again, this time against the curve of your neck, sending a rush of warmth through you. "I want to hear the rest."
Your voice quivers as you try to continue, the lines of the poem mixing with the feeling of his lips.
"Or if your wish be to close me, I and my life will shut very beautifully, suddenly, as when the heart of this flower imagines the snow carefully everywhere descending—"
His kisses grow slower, more languid, as if savoring every inch of your skin. Each one draws you further away from the poem, your pulse quickening under his touch. He pulls back just slightly, and his eyes meet yours, his gaze heavy with desire, but still, he urges you on.
"Finish it," he says softly, his thumb tracing your lower lip as he holds your gaze.
You exhale shakily, barely able to focus anymore, but you try.
"Nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals the power of your intense fragility..."
Before you can finish the last line, Felix’s lips capture yours, cutting off the rest of the poem. His kiss is deeper this time, not asking for permission but claiming the moment as his own. The book slips from your hand, forgotten, as you lean into him, your breath mingling with his.
The poetry becomes a distant memory as his kisses consume you, every touch drawing you further into him. And for the first time, you don’t feel the need to pull back or hesitate. You melt into the moment, into him, as the poem fades into the background, replaced by the quiet intensity of Felix’s lips on yours.
The poem may be incomplete, but the moment is whole.
-
Felix watches as you fumble with the edges of the poetry book, your nervousness plain in the way your fingers tremble. He can sense how hard you’re trying to focus, trying to find your voice in the moment.
There’s a certain charm in how unsure you are, the way your eyes keep darting up to him, like you’re looking for some kind of permission. But he knows you don’t need it. You want this—he can feel it in the air between you.
When you finally start to read, your voice is soft, hesitant.
“Somewhere I have never travelled, gladly beyond any experience, your eyes have their silence...”
Felix can barely concentrate on the words. It’s your voice—that shaky, uncertain quality—that pulls him in, and you’re so close. He leans in, pressing the warmth of his lips against your cheek, testing, teasing. He feels the way you stiffen, your breath catching. He doesn’t want to overwhelm you, but the urge to touch you, to close that gap, is too strong.
"Keep reading," he murmurs, his lips brushing your skin, barely above a whisper. He feels your pulse quicken beneath his touch.
You take a deep breath and continue, your voice even softer now, trying to hold it together.
"Your slightest look easily will unclose me though I have closed myself as fingers..."
As your voice trails off again, Felix can't resist. His lips graze the corner of your mouth, light and fleeting. He watches your eyes flutter, sees the way you're barely hanging onto the thread of the poem, and it makes him smile inwardly. He pulls back just enough to see the heat in your cheeks, the uncertainty fighting with desire in your eyes.
"Go on," he urges, this time pressing his lips to the soft skin just beneath your jawline. His hand slips to your waist, fingers curling lightly around you, holding you steady, grounding you as he teases.
"I–I..." Your voice falters completely as his lips trail lower, brushing the sensitive spot near your neck.
He loves the way you stammer, the way your breath comes in shallow gasps.
"You open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens—"
Felix hears your voice waver again, and he chuckles softly against your neck. He knows exactly what he’s doing. The poem doesn’t stand a chance against his kisses, but he likes this game, this slow unraveling of your composure.
"Felix..." you murmur, barely able to hold onto the words.
He pulls back just enough to speak, his breath warm against your ear. "Don’t stop." His voice is low, coaxing, as he brushes another kiss just below your ear. "I want to hear the rest."
You try—he can see you trying—but the way you tremble beneath his touch makes it almost impossible for you to concentrate. He watches you struggle, a mix of amusement and desire in his gaze as you fight to continue.
"...Or if your wish be to close me, I and my life will shut very beautifully..."
Felix’s lips move slowly across your skin, savoring every inch. He can feel the tension in you, the way you’re holding onto control by a thread. But then, something shifts. He presses one last kiss to your neck, soft and lingering, and watches as your resolve crumbles. The book slips from your hands, your breath hitching in your chest.
“Finish it,” Felix whispers, his thumb grazing your lower lip. He can see the words have all but left you, but he waits, eyes fixed on your trembling lips.
"...The power of your intense fragility..."
Before you can finish the line, Felix presses his lips to yours. The words are lost as he kisses you, claiming the moment. There’s no hesitation in the way your body responds, melting into him as if you’ve been waiting for this all night. The book falls from your hands, forgotten, as his hands move to pull you closer.
He feels the way you surrender to the kiss, how every bit of uncertainty you held before dissolves. His kiss deepens, slow but deliberate, until he pulls back just enough to look at you, lips still close, your breaths mingling.
Felix takes a quick check to see if you're comfortable enough to continue, his thumb brushing across your cheek as he leans his forehead against yours. He can feel the way you’re still caught in the moment, still wanting more.
His hand slides down to your shoulder, tracing the curve of your spine. He brushes your hair to the side, kissing you again—slower this time, deeper. The way you respond, your lips meeting his with growing confidence, only pulls him in more.
Felix takes your hand and gently places it on his chest. He feels the way your hand stays immobile for a moment, but then it starts to move, roaming curiously over his body. Your touch is tentative but warm, and soon enough, your fingers tug at the opening of his shirt, revealing a peek of inked skin underneath. Felix notices the way your curiosity lights up your face. “Do you want to see the rest of my tattoos?”
You hesitate, biting your lip as you think about it, unsure if you should say yes. To avoid letting him hear how eager you are, you nod instead.
“But you have to help me with the buttons,” he says, glancing down at his shirt.
It’s a subtle invitation, but the way he says it makes you feel like you’re in control. You start undoing the buttons, one by one, your fingers working carefully, as if each button is a gateway to something unknown. When you finish, you stop, leaving the fabric still draped across his chest. There’s a moment of hesitation, as if parting the shirt will reveal something too intimate, something more than just skin.
Felix senses your nerves, so he does the rest; he shrugs the shirt off his shoulders, revealing the ink that covers his chest and arms. Normally, he’s confident about his body, but under your gaze, he feels a flicker of vulnerability. You’re studying him, and he can feel the weight of it, like you’re looking past the surface.
“It’s all over you,” you mutter in awe.
One, in particular, seems to draw your attention—the dragon on his ribcage. Felix notices the way your hand lingers there, eyes fixed on the intricate design. He smiles softly, taking your hand and pressing it gently against the dragon.
“Here... feel it,” he says, guiding your touch.
Your fingers trace the lines of the tattoo, feather-light and full of wonder. Every slight graze of your fingertips sends a rush through him, and the way you’re touching him so delicately is like you’re trying to memorize the feel of each tattoo.
“Do you like it?” he asks, his voice soft but laced with curiosity.
“I had no idea I liked tattoos until now,” you innocently answer.
There's something so honest in your words, and Felix can’t help but smile, feeling the tension between you shift into something deeper, more intimate. He watches you as your fingers continue to explore, and for the first time in a long while, he feels a kind of peace in this closeness, like it’s more than just physical. There’s something in the way you touch him, like you’re seeing him for the first time—not just his body, but all the stories inked into his skin.
Then you take your hand back and fidget in your seat. You open your mouth, but no words come out. After a while, you ask, “Should I undress?”
“Only if you want to,” he says, not wanting to pressure you and also trying to make it clear that this is on your terms.
With a shy nod, you start moving, fingers flying to the buttons of your dress, fumbling a little in your nervousness. Felix notices and, sensing your discomfort, turns his head away, giving you the privacy you need. He helps by dimming the lights on your bedside lamp, knowing that a girl like you prefers the softer glow to ease the tension. Now, the room is bathed in a quiet, warm light, making everything feel more intimate, more comfortable.
“Do you need help?” he offers after a moment, his back still to you.
“I’m done anyway,” you respond, your voice softer now.
Felix hears the faint sound of your dress hitting the floor, and he inhales, preparing himself for what he's going to see. He turns his head slowly, careful not to look directly at you until he’s sure you’re comfortable. His eyes first meet yours, searching for any sign that you’re nervous, that you want him to stop, but you hold his gaze, and that’s all the permission he needs. His eyes travel down, finally taking in the sight of you.
The first thing that catches his attention is the unexpected—the matching silk and lace set you’re wearing, soft and delicate against your skin. It’s a contrast to the image he had in mind, and it takes his breath away. The colors, the fabric—it all highlights your natural beauty in a way that almost overwhelms him.
Beautiful. That’s the only word that comes to mind, but even that feels like it doesn’t do you justice. You’re beyond that. You’re captivating in a way that makes him hesitant to even touch you, as if the act itself would somehow break the spell between you.
“I want to touch you,” he admits, his voice trembling with restraint, overwhelmed by how much he desires you but not wanting to rush.
“Okay,” you say, so simply, so openly.
-
The intimacy of the moment is overwhelming. Felix is sitting there, shirtless, and the way he’s looking at you makes your skin tingle. The silence stretches between you, heavy with unspoken questions.
After a while, you finally manage to speak. “Should I undress?”
Felix’s gaze is soft, his voice gentle when he responds, “Only if you want to.”
His words reassure you, but still, your hands tremble as you reach for the buttons on your dress. You fumble with them, nervous fingers struggling to move faster. Felix, sensing your discomfort, turns away, giving you a moment to compose yourself. It’s a small gesture, but it makes you feel better, like he understands without needing to be told.
You manage to undo the last button, letting the dress slip down your shoulders and fall to the floor with a soft thud. You glance at Felix, and he still isn’t looking. He’s turned the light down, creating a softer, warmer atmosphere that eases some of the tension in your chest. It’s as if he knows that you’d rather not be fully exposed in the harsh glow of bright light.
“Do you need help?” he asks, his voice careful, like he’s afraid of pushing you too far.
“I’m done anyway,” you reply, your voice shaky but steady enough.
Felix exhales, turning back to face you slowly, almost cautiously. He looks into your eyes first, making sure you’re okay before letting his gaze travel down. When his eyes finally take in the sight of you, you see something shift in him. His expression softens, and you feel your heart pounding in your chest, almost painfully so.
You weren’t sure what he’d expect to see, but the look on his face—like he’s in awe—makes you feel beautiful in a way you’ve never felt before. You're wearing your favorite matching set, silk and lace, in a color that contrasts perfectly with your skin. You chose it thinking you might need something that makes you feel confident, but now, under Felix’s gaze, you wonder if it was the right choice. But then you see the way he looks at you, like you’re something precious, and all your doubts melt away.
“I want to touch you,” Felix says softly, his voice trembling, almost as if he’s afraid to break the moment.
“Okay,” you answer, trying to sound calm even though your heart feels like it’s about to explode.
Felix doesn’t rush. His movements are slow, deliberate. He brushes your hair aside, his fingertips barely grazing your skin, but it’s enough to send a shiver down your spine. His knuckles trace down your chest, stopping at the center, right between your breasts. His hand rests flat there, and you feel the warmth of his palm seeping into your skin, the beat of your heart thudding loudly under his touch.
“You're so beautiful,” he softly murmurs as he looks into your eyes.
You can feel heat spreading across your face. You want to say something, but the words get stuck in your throat. Instead, you just look down, overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment, by how gentle and caring he’s being.
Felix leans in, and when he kisses you, it’s not rushed. His lips are soft, and the kiss is gentle, as though he’s trying to coax you out of your shell. You kiss him back, a little more confidently this time, the warmth of his body pressing against yours making everything feel more natural.
The more time you spend with Felix, the more certain you feel that you’re in the right place, with the right person. His presence is calming, his touch patient and careful. Every kiss, every gentle brush of his hand against your skin reminds you that he’s giving you all the time in the world. He doesn’t rush, doesn’t push you beyond what you’re ready for, and that thought alone is enough to make your heart swell.
Felix holds back so much—it’s evident in the way he slows his movements, adjusting to your hesitance, waiting for you to catch up, to feel comfortable. You notice how he looks at you, always checking, always making sure you’re okay with what’s happening. He’s so understanding that you can feel your insecurities start to melt away, one by one, like the weight of them no longer matters in this space you’ve created together.
As the kissing becomes more intense, your breathing picks up, and the room feels warmer. You feel his strong yet gentle hand resting on your shoulder, his fingers playing with the strap of your bra, and you know what comes next.
This time, you decide to take the initiative and ask, “Do you want me to take these off?”
“If you allow me to,” he answers with a soft smile.
You’ve always known your body isn't the kind men fantasize about, or at least, that’s what you tell yourself. “They’re not—They’re not my best features,” you meekly admit.
Felix’s eyes don’t waver, and his smile turns into a playful smirk, one that both teases and comforts at the same time. “How can I know for sure when I haven’t seen them?”
You feel a smile tugging at your lips; he has a fair point, and you can’t argue with him when he looks at you like that—like he sees you, not just the parts you want to hide.
You nod, giving him permission, and lean forward slightly to make it easier for him to reach behind you. His fingers find the clasp of your bra almost immediately, without hassle.
The sound of it unclasping makes your breath hitch, anticipation swirling in the air between you, and then he pulls back just enough to let the bra fall away, his fingers gently sliding the straps down your shoulders. His movements are slow, with excitement simmering underneath, as if he’s unwrapping a precious gift.
And then, you’re bare in front of him, vulnerable in a way that sends a nervous thrill through you.
Felix doesn’t rush to fill the silence. He doesn’t gawk or make you feel exposed. Instead, he looks at you with a soft, quiet admiration that makes your heart flutter.
“They're perfect,” he says, and the sincerity in his praise makes your insecurities seem small, insignificant.
-
Felix's breath catches in his throat at the sight of you, bare in front of him. The soft curves of your chest stir something deep inside him, and for a moment, he has to hold back from letting his hands act purely on impulse. He swallows hard, trying to keep his cool, even though the urge to touch you is overwhelming.
“They’re perfect,” he says softly, his voice rougher than he intended. He means it. It’s not about size or shape—he just likes seeing you, just like this.
If he's being honest, you’re not what Felix thought he always wanted. But now, with you in front of him, he finds himself thinking that you’re more than enough—perfect, in fact.
He lets himself lose a bit of that self-control, his hand reaching out, grazing your skin before cupping your breast, his gentle yet curious fingers exploring the softness of your chest. They fit perfectly in his tattooed hands, and he feels heat rising in him.
“See? They’re perfect,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin as if to prove the point.
You remain quiet as he touches you, but your eyes go wide, lips parting slightly, and then, unexpectedly, you run your palms over your own breasts, fingers grazing your nipples with a restless, almost nervous motion.
The sight of you touching yourself, so innocently but also with that hidden desire, nearly drives him over the edge. He has to clench his jaw to stop himself from groaning aloud.
"Why are you looking at them like that?" you curiously ask in a shy voice.
“Like what?” he asks, his voice deep and low, almost a growl as he leans in closer, needing to hear you say it.
“Like you want t-to…” You hesitate, stumbling over your words.
“Lick them? Suck them?” he finishes the sentence for you, the words falling from his lips with an intensity that makes you look down at your lap, cheeks heated.
You nod, too shy to say it aloud.
Felix exhales slowly, his restraint hanging by a thread. “Come here!” his voice is rough, almost commanding as he gestures for you to sit on his lap.
Biting your lip, you crawl onto him and sit right on his lap.. You freeze for a moment, probably feeling his hard flesh prodding under you.
"You can ignore that," he tells you, at least for now, but he knows both of you can’t ignore that for long.
Somehow, that thought worries him, and he expected you to sit stiff as a board on his lap, but you immediately settle in close, and when he puts his arm around you, you let out a ragged sigh, instantly melting into him.
Fuck, you're so close, especially that part of you, hanging so close to his mouth. He gulps air and reminds himself to take things slowly. This is about you, not him.
You put your hand under his arm and grasp at his back, your hard nipples grazing his chest in the process, and Felix can’t resist cupping your breasts and rubbing his fingers over them.
Soon, your body softens around him, but his hands grow rough as he touches you, molding you to him as he claims your mouth. The kiss is a savage thing of teeth and tongues, but there’s no hint of protest from you. Instead, you match his roughness for roughness, kissing him back until you run out of breath.
As you come up for air, he covers your nipple with his mouth and sucks hard. He pulls you close so he can do the same with the other one; this time, he has your nipple rolling on his tongue. Oh, he can do it all night, just playing with your soft mounds.
Your fingers make their way through his hair, tugging at it as you arch your back with unconscious demand. It's apparent that you love this, losing your mind over his touches.
Felix lets go of your breast, then drags his lips upward, climbing the column of your throat until they find yours, kissing your mouth with such intensity that it causes you to sharply inhale air.
As he's kissing you, his hands refuse to remain idle. He cups your breasts, stroking the buds until they ache and pinches them, sending a burst of sensation straight to your core. With caution, he takes it to the next level, shifting his focus to another sensitive part of you. He's smoothing a hand over your stomach, and he can feel your muscles clench. Cautiously, he slides a hand up your inner thigh.
“I want to touch you here,” he says while gently palming your sex with a bold grasp, and the heat of his touch spreads through the fabric of your panties, searing hot.
Your hand immediately flies to grip his wrist, intending to pull him away, but your hand stays there; if anything, you pull it back and let it rest on his inked forearm.
“Is that permission?” he whispers into your ear.
He sees the conflict in your eyes. He guesses the reason you hesitate is that this is new to you, and you don't know how to handle this side of yourself. After a while, your body wins over your hesitant mind as your hips arch against his hand, asking him to continue, asking him for more.
He pushes your underwear to the side, and as he kisses your neck, his fingers trace your bundle of nerves, circling it, then applying the gentlest of pressure to test whether you like it or not.
A low moan slips out of you, and he can feel you tugging at his hair, hard.
"Do you want me to keep my hand there?" he asks as he looks into your dazed eyes.
You innocently nod.
"All right. I'll do that," he says with a hasty kiss on your lips. He continues by tracing your slick entrance with his fingertips, touching you there lightly, trailing around and around in dizzying circles.
"Does that feel good?" he asks, barely audible.
Still unable to give him a verbal answer, you nod again.
He aims his parted mouth toward your neck and purposely scrapes his teeth against your skin before he licks and kisses you there, causing goosebumps to spread over your skin.
"Will you let me get inside?" he asks for permission as his fingers tease your entrance.
It's obvious that you want it from the way you're arching your hips against his hand, but he doesn't want to risk losing you to the nerves again; he needs to hear you say it this time.
"Yes," you breathlessly say with a small nod.
With your consent given, his fingers search through your folds, coating them with your essence, and he lingers around your entrance for a little while before pushing one finger into you.
He feels your sharp intake of air as your head rests so close to his, your teeth faintly biting your lower lip to muffle the noises you make.
Felix gives you time to adjust before adding another digit. Two fingers are inside you now, pumping them, and he curls them, finding that spot that makes you...
"Oh!" you gasp, your hand grasping at the end of his hair like it gives you a lifeline. Your legs tremble, causing you to lose your balance, and you almost topple back, but Felix is quick to grip your waist to keep you steady.
The whole thing is so cute. Felix rubs his lips to hide a grin as you steady yourself on his lap and fold your hands in your lap. He knows that if he continues, you’d likely fall to the floor. You're the kind of girl who gets weak when you get hot, and don’t get him wrong; he loves that. If anything, it makes every bit of effort it has taken to get past your guard worth it.
"It's better if we lay down," he suggests as he removes the strand of hair caught between your lips.
"Okay," you say, your voice small and filled with obedience.
Once you get off his lap, Felix takes the lead again. He stretches out near the center of the bed, propping himself up on an elbow, and pats the space next to him. No moment of hesitation this time, you crawl across the bed and lay down next to him.
Felix leans over you and kisses you, starting right back at the beginning with innocent brushes of both of your lips and teasing licks before taking your mouth once again. He wouldn't say you're that great of a kisser, but it's entertaining feeling you learn. You may lack in skill, but you make up for it with your eagerness.
He puts your hand on his bare chest, letting you roam free from there; he needs you to feel him too, how his body heats all over from his desire for you. You drag your hand down his chest, fingers trailing the hard ridges of his abs, and then you keep heading down south, meeting the waistband of his jeans.
Felix is unprepared when your hand suddenly goes to his crotch and strokes over the fly of his pants. Pleasure courses through him, and his cock jumps in excitement, a hoarse groan slipping out of his parted mouth.
He remains calm even though you've just awakened a part of him that he wants to keep tamed, for now. He notices the curious hand and then the curious eyes.
"Want to touch it?" he offers, his eyes half shut, heavy with lust.
"Can I?" you ask back instead of answering.
It's about time to set it free anyway; his jeans have been tightening around the crotch for quite some time. He unzips the fly open, then tugs at the waistband of his jeans and pulls it low enough to let his swollen member out of its confines.
Your hand lingers on his abdomen, hesitating to put your hand on the thing you're curious about.
He takes your hand, puts it on his cock, and then makes you close your fingers around it. The sight of your soft, delicate hand wrapped around his cock makes his heart thrumming inside his chest.
"This is my cock," he says, trying to keep his voice calm.
He guides you to stroke your hand on it, pumping it up and down his length, showing you the pace he prefers: slow but steady. "I want you to tell me when you want it."
You swallow air and look down to see that he's no longer guiding you; you're stroking his cock on your own, and he must say, you're doing so good at it.
He returns the favor by reaching down between your legs, touching you there again. His fingers meet your wetness, hot and slippery, tantalizing him.
After a moment, he decides to hover above you, letting go of your lips to start making a trail of kisses down your front. Your chest is heaving as he gets closer to your core, but he does the unexpected by detaching his mouth.
"Do you mind if I take this off?" he asks, fingers tugging at the elastic band of your underwear.
You lick your swollen lips and lowly mutter, "No."
He flashes you a soft smile before doing what he asked. His palm scrapes up the outside of your leg as he pulls your underwear down. You help by lifting your hips to make it easier for him to take it off.
Felix stands at the end of the bed with your underwear in his hand. He lets you watch as he takes a long sniff of it; you smell so heavenly that he wants this smell all over him. But first, he has to make it fair. He takes his jeans off along with his underwear, exposing his naked body in all its glory for you—just for you.
In return, he gets to see all of you, your body wrapped in miles and miles of soft skin. His eyes feast on every part of you, but you cross your thighs together, blocking him from seeing the thing that tantalized him all night.
He runs his tattooed hands down your legs, offering you his warmth and comfort as a way to assure you that he wants nothing but to make you feel good. When he deems you're relaxed enough, he parts your legs open, and his eyes widen as if he sees something that goes beyond what his brain can comprehend.
"You're so wet for me," he says, swallowing air as the sight suddenly makes his throat dry.
Felix satisfies his need by taking a closer look at it, his eyes darkened and fixated on the thing that endlessly tantalizes him. He licks his lips in reaction to the overwhelming urge to taste you.
He uses his thumb to circle your clit, which engorges with every motion. "It wants my mouth so badly," he tells you, his eyes dark and heavy with lust.
Felix presses his cheek to your inner thigh and, ever so softly, places a long kiss on the skin. It's close to where he wants to be but not enough. His need grows desperate.
"Put us both out of our misery and let me taste you."
-
Felix is perfect. He stands there like carved stone, but his skin is smooth and hot to the touch, firm but giving, alive. His muscles hunch and shift as he moves, and the dragon tattoo winks at you as he steps out of his pants; the motion alone is so sexy.
This is Felix in all of his naked glory. He is perfection, even that part of him—gosh, especially that part of him. His erection demands your full attention, hard and veiny, in flawless proportion to the rest of his beautiful body. You have never given a man oral sex before, but your mouth waters at the sight of it. You want it.
You can’t remember how to breathe as he puts his tattooed hands on you, rubbing them up and down the outside of your legs, making you tingle down there. You see how he quietly inhales air before parting your legs open and lets all the air out of his mouth as he shifts his eyes to see what's between your legs.
It's the most private part of you, and you expect him to see it in disgust, but the way he looks at it... you see nothing but pure admiration. He puts his focus there, needing more time to process what he's seeing.
"You're so wet for me," he says, barely audible as he holds his breath.
He bends down close to your wet flesh, making your nervousness spike to heart-pounding levels, and his eyes never stray away from what he wants. Then his thumb meets the peak of your sex, gently rubbing it, and you quietly moan under your breath.
"It wants my mouth so badly," he says, receiving your body's signals too well.
The little kisses he places on your inner thighs feel soft, but you can see that it's not quite what he wants; he's so close to it, yet he handles his self-control really well.
He closes his eyes for a second, and when he opens them, they immediately find yours. Then he murmurs, "Put us both out of misery and let me taste you."
It hits you now that he truly wants this, you. He likes what he sees, and his craving for your most private parts is real. It's dirty but highly erotic and exciting. You want to give it to him; you do, but you doubt that the reality will meet his expectations.
“Will you be disappointed if I don’t like it and I don’t respond like other women?” you ask, feeling a little anxious, thinking that you’re about to ruin the moment. Again.
“If you don’t like it, then we’ll move on,” he simply says, spreading your legs wider and then landing a gentle, closed-mouth kiss on your clit, catching you off guard.
Your body stiffens for a second, not expecting that sensuous jolt, and then you relax in the next second.
"Hate that?" he asks with wistful, downturned eyes.
"I..." You still can't decide if you like it or not; you need more—
Felix lands another kiss, followed by a slow tasting of his tongue on it. He hums his approval and covers your sex with his mouth, sucking with slight pressure as his tongue laps over your clit, repeatedly.
Your mind shuts down; your body slowly goes limp as heat blooms inside you, and your face buries in the blanket as the pleasure intensifies. This feeling is new to you; your body is in a state of shock from the immense sensations, and you feel like you're about to cry when he abruptly stops.
"You don't like it?" he asks after getting no answer from you. "Let me try it another way..."
Felix pushes two fingers into you, and your eyes roll to the back as he begins a steady pace, combining it with his tongue flickering over your cunt, and somehow, you can’t stop your hips from rising to meet his thrusts.
Oh God! You're riding his hand and smothering his face with your wet cunt. You tell yourself to stop, but you can't; you find your hands tangled in his long, bleached-blond hair instead. You're tightening around him, so wet now you can hear the slippery sounds every time he pumps his fingers into you.
"I'll stop," Felix says as he licks his glistening wet lips, then rubs his tongue over you fast and hard, making you clench helplessly around his fingers.
"Felix..." you breathlessly call his name. You can't believe how needy you sound—almost pathetic even.
"One last taste..." Felix says before planting his mouth on you again. He sucks with perfect pressure, his tongue cleverly dragging out the pleasure to keep your release out of reach. He presses a parting kiss to your sex and lifts his head, stopping for real this time.
"Yeah, you look ready now," he says it so low it's almost like a whisper.
Truthfully, you've been ready for a while now, and you love the idea of demanding his... cock and him providing it; you just can’t get those words past your lips.
Apparently, the look on your face tells it all. As he props a hand next to your waist, he looks at you and asks, "Do you want it?"
You stifle a nod, and you're aware that's not enough to convey how much you want it.
His hand reaches for the strand of hair covering your face and asks again, "Do you want it now?"
Want, want, want. You eagerly respond in your head, but you force yourself to remain calm and say, "Yes."
Felix nods and lands a kiss along your jaw, then drags his lips close to your ear. With a hoarse voice, he whispers, "I'll give it to you."
His warm, soft yet firm body blankets yours as his lips bombard you with kisses, each kiss peeling away your senses along with your worries and insecurities; you eventually stop thinking altogether.
"Excuse me for a second," he says with a kiss on your lips, getting off the bed to look for something on the bedroom floor.
As Felix picks up his jeans from the floor, you watch the muscles on his back bunch and shift as he moves, admiring the twin indentations at the base of his spine. The view is nothing compared to when he turns around, showcasing his ethereal visuals and a godly figure of chiseled abs, not forgetting his cock in a size that demands your attention.
He gets onto the bed, kneeling and using his teeth to tear through the foil packet to extract the condom.
"Want to help me with it?" he offers, his eyes sparkling in the dimly lit room.
You swallow air and say, "Yes."
Your hands aren't steady, so you and he end up doing it together, and once you’re both done with it, he pulls you close. You shiver at the feel of your skin coming into contact; your nipples graze his chest, and his length burns against your lower belly. You suddenly feel very self-conscious.
Felix runs his hands up and down your back as he angles his head, trying to catch your gaze but keeps failing.
“Why won’t you look at me?”
You look at the hollow in his collarbone and hunch your shoulders forward. "I feel—I feel naked."
“We’re both naked," he states the obvious with a light smile.
You don’t know how to explain that you’re not only feeling naked on the outside but also from the inside, and that if he looks into your eyes, he’d see all of you. No one wants to see that. This is supposed to be fun and educational, not soul-baring.
Felix flashes you a smile as he tilts your head by your chin, and you catch a glimpse of tender eyes before you close yours, knowing that he's about to kiss you.
Soon, his warm lips brush over yours, tasting of him, you, and sex. His hands caress you, gently kneading the flesh of your waist before grabbing you by the thighs and hooking them around him.
Slowly, he lowers you onto the bed and then covers your body with his. He places sweet little kisses on your jaw, your neck, your cheek, the corner of your mouth, and eventually, your lips.
“If you don’t like it, if something hurts... I want you to talk to me, okay?"
As always, you give him a nod before saying the words, "Okay."
"Okay," he repeats, then sweetly kisses your lips. "Now, can you turn over for me?"
You obey him, turning over on the bed and lying on your stomach, taking in the sight of the rumpled pillows and wooden headboard.
"Lift your waist for me, please?" he politely demands, and you do what he asks, lifting your waist off the bed as he slips a pillow underneath.
It takes you a moment to understand what he's doing. In this position, he chooses not to let him see you, and at the same time, it makes you less self-conscious.
"Is this better?" he asks as he places a hot kiss on the skin behind your ear.
"Yes," you say, feeling comfortable already, but you don't think about how you can't see him and what he's going to do to you.
A low sigh escapes your lips as his rough hand glides down your back and massages the flesh in voluptuous motions. His firm chest brushes against your shoulder blades as he props an arm on the bed next to you.
You take a deep inhale as his hand reaches between your thighs, his fingers searching through your folds and sinking deep, pumping fresh essence out of you until it drips around them. As if that isn't enough, he teases your clitoris with gentle touches.
"Felix..." you desperately call his name.
"You're ready, mmh?" he asks, planting a soft kiss on the nape of your neck.
Soon, his hard length prods at your entrance and pushes its way inside, painstakingly slow, as if he wants you to feel every inch of that delicious cock stretching you out.
All this time, you thought sex was repulsive, uncomfortable and painful—something you kept avoiding because your past experiences validated those thoughts—until now. With Felix, you feel nothing but intensifying pleasure even after he is fully sheathed inside you.
"Oh, you feel too good," he whispers into your ear with a low growl.
His words make you feel all sorts of things, and you should say something about him too—how good he feels inside you, how he fills you perfectly. You try to speak like he’s asked you to, but all that comes out are gasps and sighs of pleasure. Instead, you try to communicate with your body, spreading your thighs wider for him and trying to match him thrust for thrust.
His tattooed hand propped against the mattress captures yours, and he interlaces both of your fingers together.
“Now, it's perfect," he whispers.
For a timeless moment, you're hovering on the brink until orgasm crashes over you. He knows, but he relentlessly drives into you. You try to meet his thrusts, but you can’t quite match his strength and intensity.
With your eyes closed, you dare to look over your shoulder, and he immediately captures your mouth, stroking his tongue deep into you. Before the last orgasm has finished, you feel another building. You're clenching hard, the tiny muscles fluttering around his cock.
With a hoarse groan, Felix surges into you one last time, hard and shallow, sending you both to your highs. He rubs his lips against your jaw and neck, then lowers your shaking body to the bed. He holds you, wrapping his tattooed arms around you and drawing you even closer, holding you like his.
With your eyes still shut, your fingers trail his forearm, feeling the defined muscle and the smooth skin—a combination that is utterly distracting. His scent, his warmth, and his solidness surround you, slowly lulling you into a dreamless sleep.
Now, it's perfect, you say in your head.
-
Felix breathes in deeply, letting the warm, comforting scent of your space envelop him as he burrows into the sheets, a happy sigh escaping his lips.
Slowly, he pushes himself up from the bed, and your room looks slightly different basked in the morning sunlight. Like this, he can see the colors of the books on the shelf, the hats and scarves hanging on the bedroom door, and the succulents you keep on your windowsill. Under a different light, your room looks a lot more alive.
It's also illuminating the memories of last night—your shared laughter, the sweet sounds of pleasure that echoed around him, the rustles of the sheets as your naked bodies tangled under the duvet. A rush of warmth fills him at the recollection, but as he looks around, reality settles in: he is in your room, in your apartment, and he shouldn’t overstay his welcome.
Collecting his clothes from the floor, he dresses methodically, and once in a while, he can't help but glance back at the bed where you shared such an intimate night.
Once he's decent, he steps out of the bedroom, finding you right away in the kitchen. Your hair is in a messy bun, glasses perched slightly askew on your nose, and you're dressed in a simple white t-shirt and pajama pants. You are focused on reading something on your phone while quietly eating from a bowl.
“Morning,” he greets, his voice deeper in the morning air, startling you slightly.
“Morning,” you reply, a soft smile lighting up your face.
As he continues buttoning his shirt, he slides onto a vacant stool at the small dining table.
“Orange juice?” you offer, “or do you prefer coffee?”
“Not a coffee person,” he honestly replies, and you immediately pour him a glass of orange juice, your movements easy and familiar.
You turn around to put the carton of juice back into the fridge and come back with a plate of breakfast for him, serving it in front of him.
“I don’t know what you like for breakfast, but this is what I usually cook for my roommate,” you say, sliding a plate of scrambled eggs and toast toward him.
“Wow! Thank you,” he says in utter gratitude.
Felix can’t recall the last time he enjoyed a nice breakfast with the person he had a one-night stand with; usually, he’d be gone before his partner even woke.
He glances toward the door of your roommate’s bedroom, wondering if she's inside.
“The birthday girl isn’t home yet?” he asks as he lifts his fork.
“She’s probably staying over at one of her friends,” you reply, your tone casual, suggesting you are used to this arrangement.
Felix finds it convenient this way. He enjoys the intimacy of just the two of you in the calm of the morning. The presence of another person would only ruin that.
“Is that what you usually have for breakfast?” he asks, peeking into your bowl, which contains slices of fruit, granola, and yogurt.
“Yes,” you answer with a small smile.
“Ah, that explains…” he absentmindedly says, not realizing the implications of his words until you catch his gaze.
“Explain what?” you ask, your curiosity piqued.
“Uh... that explains why you’re so smart,” he lies with a casual smile, hoping to brush off any suspicion.
The truth is, your diet explains why you smell and taste so good; the thought makes him bite back a smile, recalling the events of last night.
"Oh..." your reaction is a mix of surprise and gratitude, but he's still unsure if you understand the meaning behind his words. If you do, just know that it's a compliment.
After breakfast, Felix uses your bathroom for a quick wash-up and retrieves his jacket from the sofa. He adjusts his shirt before putting it on, realizing the time has come to leave, even though he wants to stay longer.
With heavy steps, he approaches you as you stand by the door, sensing the moment is drawing to a close.
Your eyes are on him, but your hands are clasped behind your back, your eyes shimmering with a different kind of light than when he first met you. They seem more alive now, filled with warmth.
“I want to thank you for last night,” you say, a smile creeping onto your face as the memory flashes through your head as it does for him.
“No need to thank me,” he replies. He refuses to accept your thanks when you're not the only one gaining something from last night.
“We had fun last night,” he remarks, not fully realizing he is speaking for both of you.
“I mean, I don’t know about you, but I had fun last night,” he corrects himself with an awkward laugh, pressing a hand to the pulse point on his neck out of nervousness.
“I had— I had fun last night,” you shyly remark, looking away for a second to compose yourself before looking back at him, a shy smile still lingering.
“That's good to know,” he replies, catching your shyness as it creeps into his demeanor.
A moment passes in silence as you look at each other. He has so many things to say, but no words are spoken. He can see that you're struggling to fathom your thoughts into words too.
“Felix,” you call in a different tone from the way you called him last night, yet it makes his heart flutter the same.
“Yes?” he answers, his heart beating in anticipation.
You open your mouth, but no words come out, then close it again, thinking hard about whether to say it or not.
“You can talk to me,” he assures you, his hand flying to your elbow and gently holding it.
Taking a deep breath, you finally close the distance between you, pressing your lips against his in a quick, unexpected kiss.
The surprise electrifies him, but the briefness leaves him wanting more. He quickly decides it's best to ask for forgiveness later rather than permission. He cups your jaw and leans in for a proper kiss; eventually, his lips meet yours in a kiss that means so much more than that: it's a tender connection that feels just right.
As much as he likes it, he knows he has to let go eventually. He slowly pulls away, only to see a smile blooming on your face, and his lips reflexively follow suit, smiling back at you.
“I hope that’s okay,” he murmurs, but he knows he's not sorry at all for what he did.
You nod, your smile shy yet genuine. "That’s—”
Suddenly, the door swings open, and Rex stumbles in, making a ruckus with her arrival as the keys jangle in her hand and her shoes drop onto the floor, oblivious to the intimate moment unfolding between you two.
“Oh?” she gasps, stopping in her tracks when she finally notices the two of you. Her eyes glance between you and Felix.
“Oh!!!” she exclaims again when she recognizes Felix as the guy you kissed for a dare last night.
Realizing she's interrupted something private, she hurriedly clutches her purse close to her chest and dashes into her bedroom, shouting, “I’m not here!”
The moment is shattered nonetheless, and Felix knows he can't stay here for as long as he wants, not when your roommate is now present.
“I'd better go,” he says, even though he hasn’t planned anything beyond that.
“Okay,” you say in a way that makes you sound defeated.
“Okay,” Felix repeats, hoping you would say something to extend the moment just a bit longer.
But good things often come to an end. Felix shoves his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket and takes a good look at you one last time, imprinting it in the back of his mind.
“It was nice to meet you,” he earnestly says with one hand on the doorknob.
“Me too,” you reply, your smile soft and genuine, lingering in his thoughts even as he steps out of your life.
At least, for now.
-
Here you are again, surrounded by the pulsing energy of the club with Rex and her friends. You’re still the same shy, nerdy girl, yet somehow, you handle the scene better now. It's a familiar chaos, except that tonight, it's harder to ignore Felix’s absence.
Noticing that you're not having fun like everyone else, Rex leans in closer to talk against the loud music playing in the club.
“Are you disappointed that he’s not here?” she asks, her alcohol-tinted breath brushing your ear.
“Why should I be disappointed?” You scoff, trying to mask the truth. But deep down, you are counting every second since you walked in without seeing him.
“You think I didn't know that you’ve been secretly watching the door?" Rex chuckles, almost spitting her drink. "Or the way you get a little excited whenever you spot a blonde guy?"
Guilty as charged. You are caught, but admitting it feels like opening a wound. You tried not to dwell on it, convincing yourself it was just a one-night stand and these feelings... they'll eventually fade, right?
“Don’t worry,” Rex says as she gently squeezes your knee. “He’s probably still on the way.”
“He didn’t even ask for my number, Rex,” you confess, finally voicing the disappointment that has been gnawing at you ever since that day.
“Then fuck him!” she exclaims, fierce as always. “There are plenty of cute guys, and I'm sure we can find one tonight.”
"No, thank you," you flatly reject the offer.
"Why not?" Rex asks, her eyes studying you.
You scoff again, but inside, the truth lingers: you're still hung up on him.
“Because you’ve already drunk too much," you choose to lie instead, taking her drink from her hand.
Suddenly, someone enters the booth, and you recognize him instantly, even with his bleached hair slicked back. Your heart leaps at the sight of Felix. He looks just as perfect as you remember, but doubt creeps in. Does he remember that night as vividly as you do?
He stands across the table, drink in hand, smiling at you, but you manage a polite smile back, not wanting to set yourself up for another disappointment.
“How about a round of ‘Never Have I Ever’?” he suggests out of the blue, his deep voice drawing everyone’s attention.
"Yes, let's do that!" Rex enthusiastically responds while raising her drink higher in front of her.
Felix trails the rim of his glass with his tattooed finger as he thinks of something, and a while later, his eyes fiercely stare at you with a sly smile dancing on his face.
“Never have I ever... made out with a guy in a dark alley, bumped my head on a crate, gotten three stitches, and still proceeded to give him a night he can’t forget?”
A rush of warmth washes over you, either from his eyes that don’t stray away from yours even for a second or the fact that he still remembers everything. You smile nonetheless, feeling the flutter in your chest returning.
Everyone goes silent, glancing around, unsure who might have done that, except for Rex, who squeals next to you like a giddy child.
“I have,” you confidently say, out loud with a proud smile.
You take the drink from Rex’s hand and drink it in one go, wincing at the bitter aftertaste but recovering quickly.
You daringly stare back into his eyes as you take the next turn. “Never have I ever regretted not asking someone for their number?”
“I have,” he replies without missing a beat and downs his shot in one gulp.
Felix places the empty glass on the table, walks over to you, and holds his hand out to you. “Now, I dare you to come with me.”
It isn't a dare when it's exactly what you want; it's a wish come true. You take his inked hand, feeling the warmth radiate from his skin, and let him lead you away from the table and into the night.
In the dark alley where it all started, Felix pulls you close until your bodies collide, wrapping his arms around you. Impatiently, he kisses you hard and deep, full of longing.
The kiss is intoxicating, even better than you remember, and as he steers you away from the crates lining the alley to avoid any mishaps, you softly laugh.
Felix leans his back against the brick wall and holds you close, his face lingering only inches away from yours, breath mingling in the cool night air.
“Let’s avoid visiting the hospital tonight,” he playfully says.
In that dark alley, with the world falling away around you, you realize you don’t want this to ever end. You lean in, capturing his lips once more, and you melt into the kiss, bracing yourself for what you're about to ask and the answer you'll get.
“So, what now?” you ask, your fingers caressing his cheek, tracing the contours of his face.
“We can start by finishing the poem,” he says, a playful glint filling his eyes, reminding you of the lines you have barely gotten through that night.
You grin as the weight of the time you spent worrying about not seeing him again lifts off your shoulders. “Okay, but I think I need a new beginning for this one.”
This time, you know what you want, and what you want is more nights like this, more moments, and more of whatever this is between you and him, and that’s the only dare you're doing tonight: to find out what that is.
-
“(i do not know what it is about you that closes and opens; only something in me understands the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses) nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands.”
-
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I’m Your Daddy Now
Day 6 → Daddy Kink 💋 Carlos Sainz
Warnings: 18+ content
Kinktober Masterlist
Carlos steps out of the club, the air heavy with the distant thrum of bass. It’s Ibiza — sweltering, chaotic, suffocating.
He wipes the sheen of sweat from his forehead and stretches his neck, glancing back at the mess inside. VIP, the promise of space and status, had turned into a sardine can. No room to breathe, no air to think. Everyone’s clamoring for more — more drinks, more noise, more of each other. He needs a break.
Outside, it’s no less chaotic, but at least there’s air. The lights from the club cast strange shadows across the street, flashing in sync with the music that pulses through the walls. His shoulders drop a fraction, relaxing.
Then, out of the corner of his eye, he sees you.
You’re stumbling — no, swaying, more like it. The dress you’re in barely qualifies as clothing, clinging to your body, shimmering under the lights. He knows the look in your eyes too well, glazed over, the movements too slow, too disjointed. You’re too far gone. Drunk? High? Probably both.
Carlos watches for a second, maybe two, before his instincts kick in. His feet start moving, eyes narrowing, as if zoning in on you could fix you in place, prevent you from drifting any further into the chaos of the night.
When he’s close enough, he leans in just enough to catch your attention but not enough to startle. His voice is low, authoritative. “What would your daddy say if he saw you like this?”
You blink, unfocused. “Daddy?” Your laugh comes out broken, short. “Never had one. Wouldn’t know.”
Carlos straightens up, a frown flickering across his face. “You don’t have a daddy?” His tone is almost mocking, teasing. “Then I guess I’m your daddy now.”
You laugh again, stumbling forward, nearly toppling into him. “Yeah?” You slur. “Sure, whatever you say.”
Carlos doesn’t laugh. He hooks his arm under your waist, pulling you upright before you faceplant onto the cobblestones. Your body’s limp against him, your breath reeking of tequila or something even stronger.
He speaks, more to himself than to you. “You’re not staying here. Not like this.”
You mutter something, but the words dissolve into gibberish. Carlos shakes his head, feeling a strange knot twist in his chest. Something between concern and frustration.
Where are your friends? How did no one notice you slipping this far? His mind flashes back to earlier in the night — the crowd, the sea of faces. None of them would care, not really. Not if you didn’t show up tomorrow.
“Well,” Carlos says, more determined now. “I’m taking care of you.”
Without hesitation, he bends down, looping his arm under your knees and tossing you over his shoulder. You let out a surprised yelp, but it quickly melts into incoherent mumbling as your head dangles, your arms limp.
“What? What are you-” you sputter, but your words are barely strung together.
Carlos adjusts you on his shoulder, firm but not rough. “Taking you home,” he replies, his voice steady, controlled. “Can’t leave you like this. Not a chance.”
As he walks, you start to squirm, but it’s weak. “No, no, no,” you mutter, but there’s no conviction in it. You’re too far gone to fight, too far gone to think straight.
Carlos ignores your weak protest, his stride never faltering. He knows what people might think if they saw him now, carrying you like this, but the crowd is oblivious, and he doesn’t care. His mind is set.
Reaching his car, Carlos shifts you in his arms, carefully lowering you into the passenger seat. He brushes your hair out of your face, taking in how disoriented you look. You’re barely holding on to consciousness, your head lolling back against the seat.
You glance at him, trying to focus. “Why?” You mumble, eyes half-closed. “Why are you ... doing this?”
Carlos pauses, his hand resting on the edge of the door. “Because no one else is,” he says simply, his voice firm, but there’s a softness beneath it, a quiet protectiveness. “You can’t take care of yourself right now. So, I will.”
You squint at him, as if trying to piece together what he’s saying, but it’s clear you’re losing the battle to stay awake. “Don’t ... need you,” you slur, though it lacks any bite.
Carlos raises an eyebrow, a small, almost amused smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, well, you don’t get to decide that tonight.” He shuts the passenger door with a solid thud, circling to the driver’s side.
As he starts the car, you slump further into the seat, murmuring something unintelligible. Carlos glances over at you every now and then, his grip on the wheel tight, jaw set. There’s a heavy silence between you two now, but it’s not uncomfortable — it’s just ... there.
You shift slightly, eyes half-open again. “Where’re we going?” You ask, your voice a quiet, broken whisper.
Carlos doesn’t look at you when he answers. “Someplace safe.” His voice is steady, but there’s an undercurrent of something else there — something resolute, something protective. “You’ll thank me tomorrow.”
You close your eyes again, too exhausted, too far gone to argue. Carlos drives in silence, the night stretching out in front of him, the lights of Ibiza flickering in the rearview mirror.
He doesn’t know what your story is, doesn’t know how you ended up in the state you’re in tonight, but there’s a part of him that doesn’t care. You’re his responsibility now, at least for tonight. And that’s enough for him.
Carlos glances over at you one last time as you drift off into a restless sleep, your breathing deepening. He tightens his grip on the steering wheel, his mind already set.
Tomorrow, you’ll wake up in a safe place. Tomorrow, you’ll be sober, and maybe you’ll hate him for taking control when you couldn’t. But tonight? Tonight, you’re his to protect.
And he’s going to make damn sure you’re safe.
***
Carlos pulls up to his hotel, the valet glancing at the car before quickly looking away, recognizing the man behind the wheel. Without a word, Carlos steps out, walks around the car, and opens the passenger door.
You're still barely conscious, slumped against the seat. With an ease that speaks to both his strength and control, he lifts you out, cradling you against his chest as he strides toward the entrance.
The elevator ride is silent except for your shallow breathing. Carlos’ jaw is tight, his mind churning with a mix of concern and frustration. The numbers blink by, floor after floor, until finally, the doors open to the luxury suite. He walks inside, shutting the door behind him with a quiet finality.
He sets you down on the plush couch, your body slumping into the cushions. You blink up at him, bleary-eyed, struggling to focus.
“Where ...” You start, but your voice trails off, weak.
Carlos stands over you, arms crossed, looking down with a mixture of disappointment and something deeper — something protective. “You could’ve gotten yourself killed tonight,” he says, his voice low, firm. “What the hell were you thinking?”
You blink again, the words barely registering in your hazy mind. “I wasn’t ... I don’t know,” you mumble, trying to sit up, but your body doesn’t quite cooperate. “I’m fine.”
Carlos’ eyes narrow. “Fine? You can’t even sit up properly.” He shakes his head, running a hand through his hair, clearly exasperated. “You put yourself in danger. Do you have any idea what could’ve happened to you?”
You don’t answer, your mind still foggy, but something in his tone makes your heart race. There’s an edge to his voice, a command that cuts through the haze.
Carlos steps closer, looming over you. “I can’t believe you’re just brushing this off.” His voice is sharper now, frustration lacing each word. “Do you have no idea how stupid that was?”
You shake your head, but it’s a feeble gesture. “Didn’t mean to ...” you mumble, not even sure what you’re apologizing for.
Carlos doesn’t let up. “You need to understand something.” He crouches down in front of you, his face close, his voice low and intense. “If you can’t take care of yourself, then I’ll have to do it for you. And clearly, you’ve proven tonight that you need someone to teach you better.”
You blink, your pulse quickening. There’s a tension in the air now, thick and heavy. Carlos stands again, his expression unreadable as he reaches down, taking your wrist in his hand and pulling you gently but firmly to your feet. You stumble slightly, but he steadies you, his grip unyielding.
“Come here,” he says, his voice softer now but still carrying that commanding edge.
You’re too dazed to resist as he leads you to the large armchair by the window, sitting down and pulling you across his lap in one swift motion. You let out a soft gasp, but the reality of the situation still isn’t sinking in.
Carlos’ hand presses against the small of your back, holding you in place as he speaks. “You need to apologize.”
“For what?” Your voice is small, unsure.
“For putting yourself in danger,” he says, his tone firm but controlled. “You need to understand how serious this is.”
Your heart races, the fog in your mind starting to clear just enough for you to realize what’s happening. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, though the words feel hollow, automatic.
Carlos’ grip tightens slightly. “No, you’re not,” he says quietly. “Not yet. But you will be.”
Before you can process his words, his hand comes down against you, a sharp crack that makes you gasp. It’s not painful, not really, but the shock of it sends a jolt through your entire body.
“Count,” he commands, his voice steady, unyielding.
You hesitate, your breath hitching. “One.”
Another crack, this one sharper, more deliberate. Your body tenses against his lap.
“Two,” you whisper, your voice shaking.
Carlos doesn’t slow down. His hand comes down again and again, each time punctuated by your trembling voice counting the numbers aloud. By the time you reach five, your voice is barely a whisper, your body trembling with each strike. Tears prick at your eyes, but you force yourself to keep counting.
“Six ...” Your voice breaks, and a tear slips down your cheek. “Seven ...”
Carlos’ movements are measured, controlled. He’s not being cruel, but there’s no mistaking the firmness in his actions, the lesson he’s intent on teaching.
By the time you reach ten, the tears are falling freely, your voice shaking with each apology. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, over and over again, the words barely coherent.
Carlos pauses then, his hand resting on your lower back as he watches you. “What are you sorry for?” He asks quietly.
“For ... for putting myself in danger,” you sob, your voice broken. “I’m sorry ... I didn’t mean to ... I’m sorry, Daddy.”
The words slip out without thinking, but Carlos doesn’t react immediately. He lets the silence hang between you for a moment, the weight of the night pressing down on both of you.
Finally, he exhales, his hand moving in slow circles over your backside, soothing the sting he’s left behind. “Good,” he says quietly. “That’s what I needed to hear.”
You’re still trembling, tears slipping down your cheeks as you lie across his lap, your body limp with exhaustion and emotion. Carlos’ hand moves to your legs, gently lifting you off his lap and shifting you into his arms. He holds you against his chest, rocking you slightly, his fingers brushing through your hair.
“You’re safe now,” he murmurs, his voice softer, gentler. “I’ve got you.”
You cling to him, your tears soaking into his shirt, but you don’t care. All you can do is keep whispering the same words, over and over again. “I’m sorry, Daddy ... I’m so sorry ...”
Carlos’ hand continues to rub your back in slow, soothing circles, his voice a low murmur in your ear. “I know,” he says softly. “I know you are. But you have to be better. You can’t do this again.”
“I won’t,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. “I promise ... I won’t.”
Carlos pulls you tighter against him, his chin resting on top of your head as he continues to rock you gently. “Good girl,” he whispers, his voice low, soothing. “That’s my good girl.”
You stay like that for what feels like forever, wrapped in his arms, the weight of the night slowly melting away. And as your tears dry, and your breathing steadies, you feel something you haven’t felt in a long time — safe.
And you know, deep down, that Carlos isn’t just saying the words. He is your daddy now. And he’s going to make sure you never put yourself in harm’s way again.
***
The first light of morning filters through the heavy curtains, casting a warm, golden glow across the room. Carlos shifts slightly, his back against the headboard, one arm wrapped protectively around you.
He hasn’t slept much. Not that it matters. He’s content, watching the way your chest rises and falls steadily, your body curled up against him, your face nuzzled into his side. You look so small there, tucked against him like you belong.
A soft sound breaks the silence — a quiet whimper that escapes your lips, almost inaudible, but it catches Carlos’ attention immediately. You shift slightly, your brows furrowing, and you whimper again, a breathless, needy sound.
Carlos tightens his arm around you, his voice a low, soothing rumble. “I’m right here,” he murmurs. “Shhh, cariño. I’ve got you.”
You press yourself closer to him in your sleep, your legs tangling with his as you move, your body instinctively seeking his warmth. Carlos watches you for a moment longer, his hand sliding down your side, his touch gentle and possessive all at once.
His hand moves lower, and he feels the heat of your skin beneath the thin fabric of your nightdress. His fingers slide between your thighs, finding the soft bundle of nerves that’s already swollen and sensitive. He circles it slowly, deliberately, his touch light but insistent.
Your body reacts instantly, a soft moan slipping from your lips, your hips shifting against his hand. You’re still mostly asleep, hovering somewhere between dream and waking, but your body knows him, responds to him without hesitation.
Carlos leans down, his lips brushing your ear. “Wake up, princesa,” he coos softly, his voice low and tender. “You’re so close already, aren’t you? I can feel it.”
You stir, your eyes fluttering open, dazed and unfocused at first, your mind still catching up to what’s happening. But the sensation between your legs, the way Carlos’ fingers circle you so perfectly, pulls you fully into the moment.
A whimper escapes your lips, your hips bucking slightly against his hand. “Daddy …”
“I’m here,” he murmurs, his other hand sliding up to cradle the back of your head, pulling you even closer to him. “Just enjoy, cariño. You don’t have to do anything. I’ll take care of you.”
Your breathing quickens, your body arching against him as his fingers work you over, slow and steady, bringing you right to the edge without pushing you over. It’s torture — sweet, aching torture — and you can’t stop the soft moans that spill from your lips, each one more desperate than the last.
“Please …” you breathe, your voice shaky, barely coherent.
Carlos hums softly in response, his thumb pressing down on your bundle in a way that makes your entire body tremble. “You want to come, don’t you?” He asks, his voice almost a whisper, full of dark, teasing promise.
You nod frantically, your hands clutching at his arm, your body moving on instinct now, your hips grinding against his hand. “Please, Daddy…”
A low, satisfied sound rumbles in Carlos’ chest, and he leans down to press a kiss to your temple. “That’s my good girl,” he murmurs. “Let go for me. Let me take care of you.”
His fingers press harder, moving in slow, deliberate circles that send sparks of pleasure shooting through your entire body. You’re teetering on the edge, your mind foggy with need, and when his lips brush your ear again, whispering sweet encouragements, it’s enough to push you over.
You cry out, your body shuddering against him as the orgasm crashes over you, wave after wave of pleasure that makes your head spin. Carlos doesn’t stop, his fingers working you through it, coaxing every last bit of release from you until you’re a trembling, breathless mess in his arms.
When it’s over, your body goes limp, slumping against him, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps. Carlos’ hand moves to stroke your hair, his touch gentle now, soothing.
“There you go,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “That’s my girl. You did so well for me.”
You can barely respond, your body still trembling from the aftershocks of your release. But you manage a soft, broken “Thank you, Daddy,” as you nuzzle into his chest, your eyes fluttering shut again, exhaustion overtaking you.
Carlos holds you close, his arms wrapped protectively around you as you drift back to sleep. His mind is quiet now, the frustration from the night before gone, replaced by something softer, something more possessive. You’re his now. And he’ll make sure you never forget that.
“I’ll always take care of you,” he whispers, his lips brushing your hair. “I promise.”
***
The air in the room is warm, filled with the soft hum of the city outside the window. Carlos stands by the floor-to-ceiling glass, one hand resting against the frame, watching the traffic below. The months have slipped by in a blur of race weekends, private jets, and the quiet moments in between where he has you.
Always there. Always close. Just how he likes it.
He glances over his shoulder at you, sitting on the edge of the bed, legs folded underneath you, your soft gaze fixed on him. There’s something about the way you look at him now, like he’s the only thing in your world that matters. You’ve grown so used to his presence, so accustomed to his touch and his commands, that it’s like second nature to you. It pleases him, the way you’ve fallen so easily into this role.
But tonight, there’s something else on his mind. A question that’s been nagging at him. How far under his control have you really fallen? How deeply has he embedded himself into your mind, into your very being?
Carlos turns from the window and walks toward the bed, his steps slow and deliberate. His eyes never leave yours, watching for any hint of hesitation or doubt. But there’s none. You look up at him, your expression open, expectant, as if waiting for whatever he’s about to say or do next.
He sits down beside you, the bed dipping under his weight. For a moment, he just looks at you, his hand reaching out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. There’s something intimate about the silence between you, the unspoken understanding that has developed over time. But tonight, he’s going to push a little further. See just how far he’s brought you.
“Come here,” he says softly, patting his lap.
You move instantly, like it’s instinct now, settling into his lap, your head resting against his chest. His arm wraps around your waist, holding you close. For a moment, he simply holds you, letting the quiet stretch out between you both.
“You’ve been such a good girl for me these last few months,” he murmurs, his lips brushing the top of your head. “Haven’t you?”
You nod against his chest, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. “Yes, Daddy,” you whisper, the words so automatic now, so ingrained in your mind.
Carlos smiles at the sound, that familiar name falling from your lips like it’s the only one you’ve ever known for him. And that’s exactly what he wants to test.
He tilts your chin up with his finger, forcing you to look at him. “Do you know how good you’ve been for me?” He asks, his voice low, almost teasing. “So good that I’m starting to wonder … if you even remember anything before me.”
You blink, confusion flickering in your eyes for a brief second. “What do you mean?”
Carlos smiles again, this time with more purpose. He strokes your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin with a touch that’s both gentle and possessive.
“What’s my name?” He asks quietly, the question dropping into the space between you like a stone into still water.
You blink again, and Carlos watches the subtle shift in your expression. You hesitate, just for a second, like the question doesn’t quite register with you. And then, your lips part, the softest sound coming out.
“Daddy.”
Carlos raises an eyebrow, his smile widening. “No, no. I mean, my real name. What’s my name?”
The confusion deepens in your eyes, and you shift slightly in his lap, your fingers curling tighter into his shirt as if searching for some anchor. Your brows furrow, and you bite your lip, trying to think. But the answer doesn’t come as quickly as you’d expect.
“Daddy,” you repeat, your voice a little more uncertain now, like you’re not quite sure if that’s the right answer, but it’s the only one you have.
Carlos hums thoughtfully, his fingers tracing slow circles on your hip. “Are you telling me you’ve forgotten my name?” His voice is soft, teasing, but there’s an edge of control there, a test of how deep his hold on you really is.
Your eyes search his, desperate for some clue, but all you find is that same patient, knowing smile. Your heart races, your mind suddenly blank. “I … I don’t …” you stammer, your voice trembling slightly.
Carlos’ hand moves to your hair, his fingers tangling gently in the strands as he tilts your head back a little more, forcing you to hold his gaze. “Say my name,” he commands softly.
Your breath hitches, your mind scrambling, but the only name that comes to your lips is the one you’ve been calling him for months. “Daddy.”
Carlos’ smile deepens, his fingers tightening slightly in your hair as he leans closer, his lips brushing the corner of your mouth. “That’s the only name you know, isn’t it?” He whispers, his voice dark and velvety, filled with satisfaction.
You nod slowly, the realization dawning on you that you can’t remember ever calling him anything else. That name — his real name — it’s there, somewhere in the back of your mind, but it feels so distant, so unimportant compared to the one you’ve grown so used to. The one that feels right.
“Good girl,” Carlos murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple. “You’re so far gone, aren’t you? You don’t even need to remember my name anymore.”
You shiver in his lap, a mix of fear and something else — something deeper, more vulnerable — filling you as his words sink in. The way he looks at you now, like he’s proud of how far you’ve fallen under his control, makes your heart race.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper, though you’re not even sure why. It just feels like the right thing to say.
Carlos chuckles softly, his hand sliding down your back, holding you tighter against him. “Sorry for what, cariño?” He asks, amusement lacing his tone.
“For … for forgetting,” you say, your voice small, your fingers clinging to his shirt.
“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” he says, his voice gentle now, soothing. “You’ve done exactly what I wanted. You belong to me. And from now on, the only name you’ll ever need to remember is Daddy.”
You nod against his chest, your body relaxing into his hold, the tension slowly fading as his words sink in. He strokes your hair, his touch comforting, reassuring.
“I’ll always take care of you,” Carlos whispers, his lips brushing your forehead. “You don’t need to worry about anything else. Just stay here, with me, and I’ll make sure you’re always safe.”
You breathe in deeply, your body going limp in his arms, the last remnants of doubt fading away. “I will,” you whisper back, your voice soft but certain. “I’ll stay with you, Daddy.”
Carlos smiles, satisfied with your response, his fingers trailing slowly down your spine. “Good girl,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple. “That’s exactly what I like to hear.”
The room falls into a comfortable silence once again, the only sound the soft hum of the city outside and your steady breathing as you rest against him. Carlos holds you close, his hand stroking your back, his mind still turning over everything that’s happened.
He knew you were his. He knew you’d fallen completely under his control. But hearing it now — seeing the way you can’t even remember his real name — fills him with a sense of satisfaction he hadn’t expected. You’re his, fully and completely, and there’s no going back.
“It’s a good thing,” Carlos says softly, his voice barely above a whisper, “you’re mine. And you’ll never need to worry about anything else.”
You nod against his chest, your body relaxing even more, your trust in him absolute. “I’m yours, Daddy,” you murmur, your voice soft and full of quiet devotion.
Carlos smiles, his hand continuing to stroke your hair as he holds you close. “That’s my girl,” he whispers, his voice filled with pride. “Always mine.”
#f1 imagine#f1#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 fanfiction#f1 x reader#f1 x you#carlos sainz#cs55#carlos sainz imagine#carlos sainz x reader#carlos sainz x you#carlos sainz fic#carlos sainz fluff#carlos sainz fanfic#carlos sainz blurb#f1 fluff#f1 blurb#f1 one shot#f1 x y/n#f1 drabble#f1 fandom#f1blr#f1 x female reader#carlos sainz x female reader#carlos sainz x y/n#scuderia ferrari#carlos sainz one shot#carlos sainz drabble
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SO going to request an imagine of sylus finding you at a nightclub when you decided to go out with Tara and a few other hunters one night cause I love you’re writing 🤍 maybe when it’s still in the early stages of their relationship but he’s wanting to make his claim obvious, even if everyone is wasted!
jealous sylus • imagine
As you laughed with your friends, sharing stories and teasing one another, you caught a glimpse of Sylus across the room. He leaned against the bar, his presence commanding even in the thrumming crowd. He was dressed sharply, exuding an aura of danger and allure that turned heads, but his eyes were locked onto you.
For a moment, you felt a thrill at the sight of him but it was quickly overshadowed by a hint of mischief in your heart. You turned back to your friends, flashing them a playful grin as you swayed to the music, completely unaware of the storm brewing within Sylus.
From his spot, Sylus’s jaw tightened as he watched you, laughter bubbling up between you and Tara. He knew he shouldn’t feel this way—jealousy wasn’t an emotion he easily entertained. Yet, seeing you smile and flirt with the others ignited a possessive fire in him that he struggled to control.
“Look at her” he muttered to himself, his voice low and slightly irritated. “Does she even realize what she’s doing?”
His gaze remained fixed on you, the way your laughter lit up the dimly lit room making his heart race with a mix of pride and frustration. He took a sip of his drink, trying to maintain his cool demeanor but inside he was losing his composure. The sight of you flirting and dancing with others stirred something primal within him, a protective instinct that was impossible to ignore.
“Hey! Sylus!” Tara called out, waving him over with a grin.
You glanced back, surprised to see him, your eyes lighting up. “What are you doing here?”
“Just making sure my little kitten is safe,” he replied smoothly, masking the possessiveness in his tone. But the way he stepped closer, shoulders squared and gaze sharp, conveyed an unspoken warning to anyone who dared to look at you.
You laughed, the sound melodic in the chaos of the club. “I’m fine! Just having fun!”
“Fun?” he echoed, his voice low but playful, though the glint in his eyes suggested otherwise. “I see you having too much fun.”
You nudged Tara, laughing even harder. “See? Sylus is just jealous!”
His expression didn’t change, but you could see the way his fingers tightened around his glass, the subtle flicker of annoyance crossing his features. “Jealous? No sweetie, just protecting what’s mine.”
As the night progressed, Sylus stood by watching you dance and chat, his internal struggle growing. Every time you threw your head back in laughter, his chest tightened. He could feel himself slipping into the depths of jealousy, the heat rising within him at the thought of anyone else getting too close.
When you turned to your friends, leaning in for a secretive whisper, he stepped forward, a possessive presence suddenly looming over you. “Time to go” he stated, his tone brokering no argument.
You turned, surprise etched on your face. “But we’re just—”
“No ‘buts’” he interrupted, voice firm but still playful. “You’ve had enough fun for one night.”
Your friends exchanged glances, clearly amused by Sylus’s sudden appearance and his claim over you. Tara shot you a conspiratorial grin, stifling a laugh as Sylus took your hand, leading you away from the thrumming chaos.
“Seriously?” you said, laughter still in your voice. “You can’t just pull me away because you’re jealous!”
“I’m not jealous” he insisted, though the slight tightening of his grip on your hand suggested otherwise. “I just don’t want you to be the center of attention for every guy in this club.”
“Me? I’m just having fun!” you retorted, but you couldn’t help the smile that crept onto your face.
“Yeah, fun that involves too many eyes on you,” he replied, finally allowing a smirk to play at his lips. “You’re mine,kitten”
His words sent a thrill through you, the possessiveness in his tone igniting a warmth deep within. “Okay, okay! I get it!” you laughed, relishing the attention he was giving you, despite the way he pretended to be annoyed.
“Let’s get out of here before I have to start marking my territory” he teased, his eyes dark with amusement and something deeper, a promise of more to come.
You rolled your eyes, but the flutter in your chest told you just how much you liked this side of him. As he led you out into the cool night air, you felt the weight of his presence beside you, a comfort that wrapped around you like a protective cloak. And despite the teasing, it was clear: Sylus was claiming you as his own, jealousy and all.
#lnds sylus#love and deepspace#love and deepspace sylus#l&ds sylus#sylus x reader#lads sylus#sylus#sylus x you
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LATE NIGHT, SAFE HANDS.
• jude bellingham x gf!reader
• warnings: just the horrible title. (Also, English is not my first language!)
• summary: Jude Bellingham’s quiet night is interrupted when his girlfriend arrives home drunk after a night out. Amid playful chaos, he faces the ultimate challenge: getting her to finally sleep, revealing the warmth and humor of their relationship.
PART 2: EARLY MORNING, SWEET KISSES
His girlfriend had gone out with her group of friends tonight. She´d had been looking forward to it all week. They had been together for about eight months, and things between them felt easy, natural, despite their busy lives. Jude was head over heels for her, and though they weren´t living together yet, they spend a lot of time at each other´s places. He trusted her completly, however he couldn´t help the subtle flicker of concern that burned in his chest.
Earlier that evening, she had sent him a picture of her outfit for the night, teasing him with a playful "Rate it out of 10." He remembered grinning at the sight―she looked stunning in that red dress that left Jude staring at his phone for way longer tham he´d like to admit. His reply was a teasing, "Solid 11. You´re gonna have every guy at that club staring at you. Take care, yeah?"
She´d reply with a string of laughing emojis and a lot of hearts of different colors and added, "Promise! Love ya."
Hours passed, and with her occasional messages about how much fun she was having and how the club had "grwat music bt terriblw cocktailss" and a few blurred slefies, Jude couldn´t help but laugh before texting her to be careful, trying not to admit that maybe he was a little bit unease.
Around 1:30 a.m, the messages and slurred audios from her had started to slow down, but he wasn´t too worried. He figured she was just caught up in the fun, dancing with her friends and enjoying the night. After all, it was still early. Still, he checked his phone more frequently, feeling a little restless as the minutes ticked by without a response.
"Everything okay?" he´d sent about an hour ago, hoping for an answer.
Nothing.
Jude sighed, staring at the screen for a moment before tossing the phone back onto the couch beside him. He told himself not to worry. She was probably, no, she was definitely fine, just lost in the music, and her phone was somewhere deep in her bag. But a small voice in the back of his mind kept telling him otherwise.
He tried not to be that boyfriend. You know, the one who texts every five minutes to check up on her. But as the clock ticked closer to 3 a.m. and still no word from her, his foot started tapping nervously against the wooden floor. He shot her another text, "You good? Getting kinda late..." Jude stared at the screen, waiting for those familiar typing dots to appear, but after two minutes of nothing, he sighed. He set his phone down, leaning back against the cushions, trying to keep his mind out of it.
Ten minutes passed. Then fifteen.
By the time it hit twenty, Jude was seriously considering calling her. Just to check, he told himself. He had refreshed the chat multiple times but there was no response. He unlocked his phone and was about to hit her name when the sound of the doorbell cut through the quiet.
Frowning, Jude stood up, wondering who could be visiting at this time of night. As he approached the door, a series of knocks came, maybe a little frantic. His heart race just a little. Who could possibly be knocking at this hour?
He then swung the door open and froze.
There she was, standing in front of him, her makeup smudged, her hair slightly tousled, and that same red dress clinging maybe a little bit higher than when she went out. But what really stood out was the way she was standing, as if she was going to fall at any minute, with sparkling eyes and cheeks flushed―whether from the cold air or the alcohol, Jude wasn´t sure.
But the smile she gave him? Bright as ever.
"Juuuuude!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms up as if she´d just seen him for the first time in weeks.
He couldn´t help but grin at the sight, feeling the relief flood through him. She just threw herself into his arms before he had a chance to react. He caught her easily, wraping his arms around her waist as she giggled into his chest.
"Hey, hey," he said softly, trying to hold back a laugh of his own. "You alright?"
She pulled back slightly, swaying on her feet as she looked up to him. "Of course I am. Why wouldn´t I be?" Her words slurred together, and she had to repeat the question a few times.
"You´re plastered," he stated plainly, amusement dancing in his eyes.
"Your plastered," she tried to imitate him. "Am not," she protested, though the wobble in her stance told him otherwise. She tried to step forward, but Jude quickly caught her before she could topple over.
"Please tell me you didn´t come walking all the way here like this," he asked, closing the door behind them with one hand, the other firmly around her waist.
She gave him a pout. "Wanted to see you."
“Yeah, I figured that much.” He chuckled, guiding her over to the leather couch. “Come on, sit down before you hurt yourself.”
She let him guide her but promptly flopped onto the couch with dramatic flair, kicking off her heels and curling her legs beneath her. She looked at him, a playful glint in her eyes.
“Jude?” she asked sweetly.
“Yes, love?”
“I'm hungry.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You want me to make you something?”
“Nooo...” She shook her head, grinning mischievously. “I wanna cook.”
Jude immediately burst out laughing, kneeling beside the couch as he looked at her incredulously. “Babe, you’re drunk. You can’t even stand up properly, let alone cook.”
She squinted at him, clearly not appreciating his lack of faith. “I can cook. I make the best... sandwiches.”
“Sandwiches? That’s the bar we’re setting?”
She nodded eagerly, but before he could protest further, she was already struggling to stand, making a beeline for the kitchen. Jude quickly jumped up to intercept her, catching her around the waist before she could get too far.
“Oh no you don’t,” he said, pulling her back toward him. “You are not cooking in this state.”
She notice how warm he was. “Jude…”
He laughed, tightening his grip around her. “Nope. Not happening. You’re going to hurt yourself or burn the kitchen down.”
“That is not true.”
“I’ve seen you try to use a toaster when you’re half-asleep. I don’t need you burning down my kitchen with us inside.”
With a huff, she slumped against him, clearly defeated but still playful. She tilted her head back to look at him, her frown returning. “You’re no fun.”
“I’m a lot of fun,” he corrected, pressing a kiss on her forehead. “You’ll see how fun I am tomorrow when you wake up with a hangover,” he teased. “Now, how about we get you some water and you go to bed, yeah?”
“I don’t want water,” she mumbled playfully, leaning her head onto his shoulder and putting her hand on his back. “I want… you.”
Jude felt his heart do a little flip at her words, though he tried to play it cool. “Yeah, well, you can have me tomorrow after you drink some water.”
He got up and headed to the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water and bringing it back to her. She was now sprawled across the couch, one leg dangling off the side as she stared up at the ceiling, mumbling something incoherent.
“Here,” Jude said, sitting her up gently and handing her the glass.
She took it begrudgingly, sipping at it like a child forced to take medicine. “I didn’t want this,” she muttered.
“I know,” Jude said, rubbing her back soothingly. “But you’ll thank me in the morning.”
After a few sips, she set the glass down and looked up at him with wide, adoring eyes. “You’re so good to me,” she said softly, her voice suddenly tender.
Jude smiled, feeling his chest tighten in that familiar way it did whenever she said something sweet, even in her drunken state. “Of course I am. Someone’s gotta take care of you when you decide to get hammered.”
“Jude, I’ve already told you that I’m not—,”
“Alright, alright,” he said defeated. Then, after making sure that she had drunk all the water, he lifted her as if she was nothing and carried her to his room.
The softness of the mattress and the sheets made her yawn. As Jude carefully wiped off her makeup and gave her some of his clothes, she couldn’t help to smile, adoring his features. When one of his hands brushed where her ribs where, she giggled at the motion, leaning her head against his chest. “You’re my favorite person,” she whispered.
His heart melted. “And you’re mine,” he whispered back, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
They stayed like that for a while, she snuggled up against him as Jude absentmindedly ran his fingers through her hair, soothing her into a more peaceful state. Her tipsy giggles slowly faded, replaced by soft, sleepy breaths.
“You okay now?” he asked quietly.
“Mhm,” she hummed, half asleep against him.
Jude looked down at her, his chest swelling with affection. Drunk or not, she always managed to make him feel like the luckiest guy in the world. And despite her occasional recklessness, he wouldn’t trade moments like this for anything.
#jude bellingham imagine#jude bellingham#jude bellingham x you#jb5#jude bellingham x reader#jude bellingham one shot#jude bellingham fanfic#jude bellingham fluff#jude bellingham imagines#hey jude#jude bellingham angst#jude bellingham comfort
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𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖈𝖔𝖔𝖈𝖍𝖎𝖊𝖋𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖞
━━ 𝑟𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑔𝑒 .ᐟ getou.
warnings 𑄽𑄺 13.4K word count. filmed sex, suguru getou, third person omniscient pov, black woman, black girls, vaginal penetration, nasty mf sex, rough, lil bit of sweet talkin’, hair pulling, squirting, creaming, oral [f] [m], choking, praising, LOTS and i mean LOTS of dirty talk, a lil degrading, slapping, condomless sex, kissing, pet names, spanking, aggressive suguru, lil bit of sweet suguru, suguru makes that girl lose her mf mind on that dick, minors aren’t welcome!
song to play while listening; 𝑝𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑜𝑠 ; 𝑏𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑓𝑎𝑖𝑦𝑎𝑧
━━ 𝒄𝙤𝒐𝙘𝒉𝙞𝒆𝙛𝒂𝙞𝒓𝙮 𝙩𝒉𝙤𝒖𝙜𝒉𝙩𝒔 .ᐟ okay y’all, i know it’s long. i’m sorry. IM SORRY! but, mocha said this is her favorite one, so i hope it might be y’all’s favorite too. ngl, i love it as well. it’s sweet, it’s nasty. it’s perfect. enjoy babies 🫶🏽
“IT’S BADDIE-BADDIE SHOT O’ CLOCK!”
Ears ring from the music blaring within her head, red bottom heel buzzing from the vibrations the floor carries. It’s not that she didn’t enjoy spending time with her friends, but this was the last place she wanted to be.
Clubbing wasn’t necessarily her thing. More so her friend's enjoyment, but to make up for lost time she agreed to this outing. It wasn’t the worst thing in the world. She held her drink close to her body, nodding her head softly to the music as her friends cheered out. She watched as the bottle girls appeared in front of them, swinging giddily to the beat of the song.
This had been her only day off in almost a month, working back to back doubles at her clinic. Her friends always complained that she needed to get out more—she just wished that they actually did something she enjoyed, rather than her being too nice to say the club was a bit overwhelming.
Drink after drink was being offered to her by every man within the building, her friends shooting her down each time she declined. She wasn’t interested in any of them, no matter what they offered. A dance, money, sex— her mind was elsewhere.
She kept a smile along her face as everyone in her section continued to yell in enjoyment, raising her drink as they cheered for her once again. The minute the song changed, she took that as a moment to duck off. She muttered to her best friend, “Gonna grab something out of my car,” she offered to go with her, and she shook her head that she’d be fine.
The cool air outside almost felt refreshing, as if she’d just come up for air out of the ocean. Birds chirp within the night. Any sound was better to her ears than the chaos that ensued inside the club, a sigh passing her lips as she dug her hand within her purse, searching for her lighter.
Instead of retrieving her lighter, she gripped her phone that conveniently buzzed as she touched it. She turned the screen towards her face, reading the unwanted message.
FROM:
smalldickbitchassmothafucka.
MESSAGE:
wya?
She rolled her eyes instantly, shoving the phone deep within her purse. She successfully retrieved what she was actually looking for, finding her pink cigarette box, pressing the button along the side as an equally pink bud released from the top. She pressed it in between her lips, fully focused as she searched for her lighter. Nothing.
She became more antsy as the air swooped around her, fishing around her purse deeper as she continued to search. A thought runs across her mind to completely dump the contents of her purse along the ground, knowing that was overzealous. She groans as she can’t seem to find it. Had she left it at home?
Her eyes then follow over to the light bursting open in her vision as the door swings out, quickly returning back to darkness as a body now stands a couple of feet away from her. A broken light above them flickers down onto a tall man. Cigarette poking in between the plush of his lips, even being in darkness, she sees him. He was horrifyingly attractive. Tattoos roam under the black top he wears, the shirt seemingly supposed to have an oversized look but it mistakenly clung to his hard upper body. Gauges swinging in his ears, low bun dropping tendrils around his face as he lights the end of his cigarette, shaking the fire off the tip as he inhales quickly. She drinks in his appearance. Eyebrow piercing glinting under the dim light, midnight black hair that complimented his olive skin, piercing eyebrows that give him a natural frown. Jesus.
She usually could see attractive men and go about her day. But something about him clung to her, moth to a flame as she stared at him. He was beautiful. The only thing that took her out of her staring was her phone buzzing in her purse again. She opens it, eyes dropping down to the lit screen.
FROM:
smalldickbitchassmothafucka.
MESSAGE:
ik you’re at the club. let me pull up to your section.
She turns her phone over in her purse, other hand still holding her box of cigarettes. She usually wasn’t the type to approach a stranger in any scenario, but it wasn’t gonna kill her to ask, nor would it kill her if he said no. She takes a deep breath, taking a couple of steps towards him as she asks, “Sorry—you gotta’ light?”
His figure was tall and well toned more up close. His eyes shifted over to her, smoke coming out of his nose similar to a dragon as he stared down at her smaller frame. The way that she drank in his appearance wasn’t the way he consumed hers. She stood in front of him, pretty as can be. Light brown skin, onyx curls that wrapped around the fullness of her baby face and heart shaped russet lips. Her eyebrows were darker than the night, arched over the wisps of lashes that lined the edge of her eyelids. Her face was almost feline under the dim light. Dark brown eyes glowing viciously at him, coaxing his attention. Between the brown lip liner and mauve color scheme she mixed together, nose having a tiny amount of pink blush on it, it all enhanced her beauty in a way that gave her a great amount of appeal. If it wasn’t her face, it definitely was the heavily detailed dress she wore, clinging to a preposterous figure as it was a long sleeved, deep v neck design dipping down her chest to show the valley of her taut breast. Her nipples poke through the multicolored material as if saying hello to him, fabric clasping around her child bearing hips, fat ass, skidding down to the dangerously tall red bottoms she wears. She was sexy if he couldn’t think of another word.
“Yeah,” his deep voice rang in her mind, reaching somewhere in her body—maybe nudging her clit—as her brain scattered fantasies of hearing that voice in her ear. She shook the thought away as quickly as it came, watching as he leans forward, flicking the lighter as he cuffs his large hand over it. Her body leans into him as she successfully lights the end of the cigarette, pressing her two fingers around it as she inhaled, letting the smoke fill the space.
In her own way of saying thank you, she attempts to spark a conversation as she mutters, “Trying to knock my habit. I seem to be failing.”
The man chuckles softly, a sly smile growing across his lips, “Same here. Shit is too expensive.”
As he watched her take in a long inhale from the cigar, his dark eyes would scan over the rest of her body.
“What’s an innocent girl doing out here alone? Tryna’ get away from the loud music?”
“Innocent?” She raises an eyebrow, a glint of amusement in her eye, “How presumptive. Just needed a moment of silence, not much of a club person,” she explains.
His deep chuckle was smooth in her chest, shaking logic off of her shoulders as she felt a little too captivated in wanting to hear everything he had to say. He’d give her another charming smile before he nodded his head, “Too bad, pretty little doll like you shouldn’t be smoking like an old ass man. Sure you aren’t out here hiding from a crazy ex or something?”
What a damn flirt, she thinks. Nonetheless it causes her to chuckle, “Mm, not quite. I’m actually here with my best friends. It was easier to come out here, I wasn't trying to bring down the mood with my shitty one.”
Her eyes knock down to her phone that buzzes again, a roll coming to her eyes as she doesn’t read the message this time. The man in front of her seemed to be studying her, almost. He sees as she refuses to look at her phone.
He’d raise his eyebrows, “I didn’t peg you to be a liar.”
“You shouldn’t peg a stranger to tell you any type of truth,” she’s quick, he thinks, a smile back along his lips as he turns his face towards the night.
“Entertain me, then. You gotta’ man?” He flatly asks.
“Had one. You’re nosey, it’s cute.”
“It’s an occupational hazard,” his eyes flick down her body, “I’d like to think I’m making conversation. You’re good at fuckin’ around before giving a solid answer,” he tells her, bringing his lighter back out as he flicks it on for the end of his cigarette.
She leans back against the building, noticing the intense stare he gives her, almost like he wanted to pin her along the wall.
“Ex-boyfriend. Almost a month now.”
He’d give a nod of his head upon hearing her response. After taking a long exhale of the cigar from his lips, he’d glance down at her again, “Must’ve been a fuckin’ idiot. The bastard cheated or something?”
She turns her head towards him, silence as she hears what could’ve been a compliment, “With my co-worker, actually. Called me crying that her car broke down and I asked him to give her a ride to my apartment. He had my car. Next thing I knew, she was riding him,” she shrugs, hearing as he sucks his teeth, “It’s okay. I’m trying to be a big girl about it.”
“I’ll kill him for you,” his voice is serious.
She lets out another breath, laughing softly as she says, “He’d be dead if my intent was to kill him.”
“That’s a damn shame. You should be angry,” he tells her, scanning her face that rids any emotion from the comment. She’s quiet.
She shrugs, “Could just be a coping mechanism. We were together for a while. NowI just feel—stuck…”
She feels like she’s over sharing. She shakes her head, changing the subject as she asks, “So what are you doing out here by yourself? You’re not a creep, are you?”
A deep chuckle comes from under his breath, “A man can’t take a smoke break?”
“Not if he’s preying on innocent women, scathing for their vulnerability,” she scans his face, his amusement to her words unbearably attractive as he shows his bone straight smile to laugh.
“And you say I’m the cute one,” He exhaled the smoke, watching as the puffs quickly got taken up by the soft wind before it scattered in every direction.
Although he seems to brush off her slightly rude comment, she snapped only because he was digging the surface of her emotions. She didn’t like that. She let out a breath as she tried to correct herself, “Sorry, love. Didn’t mean to offend. I’ve heard there are monsters crawling the city at night,” she tries to joke, “But I am voluntarily smoking beside you. So I can’t really call you anything.”
“Need me to protect you?” He taunts.
“Absolutely not. Maybe you’re projecting, sure you’re not the one in need of saving?”
He eyes her, “Funny. To answer your question, I’m here with some friends—I needed a moment to myself.”
“Doesn’t answer on whether you need saving or not.”
“You seem to have a big imagination,” he then points out, flicking his cigarette onto the ground, raising himself off of the wall as he steps closer to her.
“Bigger than a child’s,” she agrees, “I’ll always be a believer in spooky things,” she states, twisting the cigarette within her fingers.
“I could be one of those monsters,” he shrugs, body towering her frame as he now fully stands.
She continues to lean along the wall, a small laugh falling from her lips as the nicotine makes her slightly buzzed, eyeing him in a way she hadn’t before. Her phone buzzed in her purse again. He was close to her, his cologne drowning in her nose as he placed his arm along the side of her body against the wall.
“Are you scared?” He asks, his voice low, deep.
She shakes her head, trying to suppress her smile as she says, “Nope.”
“Good.”
It was true. At that moment, she felt nothing. All she could see was this attractive man in front of her, the tendrils of his hair close to her face. He’s trouble. On the other hand she thinks—should’ve had a goddamn lighter.
Right on time, the door to the club then swings open. Eyes look around outside, successfully finding her friend as she holds her phone to her ear, “Here her ass goes. Earth to the birthday girl! I’ve called you three times, Star. ’The hell have you been doing out here?” She eyes the man with a frown, bringing her focus back to her friend.
His eyebrows slightly raise at that, yet he keeps his eyes on her. An evil grin reappears atop of that eerily straight smile as he smugly states, “Looks like your smoke break is over, birthday girl.”
She sighs, “Unfortunately. And your name was?”
“Suguru,” he replies, the name sounding sexy falling from his lips. A brief thought wonders what it’d sound like falling out of her own mouth.
“Nice to meet you,” she hums, “Thanks for the light.”
She dropped her cigarette along the ground, digging her thin heel into the object before making her way inside, his eyes knocking down to her ass, “No problem,” leaving him outside by himself.
The rest of the night was better than she expected it to be. Her mood was up a bit more—specifically after a couple shots of Dussè—an outgoing personality now fitting along with the rest of her friends as they sang her happy birthday. She could admit, the rest of the night also included her constantly making eyes at Suguru, his presence reaching from the other side of the club even as he distractedly spoke to his friends. She felt him staring. Her phone buzzed in the corner of their section, Star and her friends now tipsily rapping out to ‘Fake Jammin’ by Sexxy Redd, the alcohol in her system providing a confidence as as bent over the table, swinging her hips to the song, dipping down sultrily, careless of the eyes that followed her body. And yes, she knew he was looking. As she continued to giggle and dance with her friends, she curiously looked over to see if he was watching. Of course he was.
Yeah, okay. He thought to himself.
The night eventually came to an end, the DJ announcing that the club was closing with it being four-thirty in the morning. Star’s feet were aching in her heels as she trudged behind her friends through the front door, her body feeling the presence of the man she’d met outside behind her, even in the chaos of other people walking. She refused to look back. Even with her feet hurting, she was still a little floaty from her previous shots, a giddiness that couldn't ruin her happiness. Her other friends trailed behind her, two of them holding onto each other as they were drunk, her best friend also being the only other sober one.
“We woke up in the kitchen saying ‘How the hell did this shit happen? Oh baby!” One friend sings behind her, seemingly becoming more intoxicated as she shouts out the lyrics.
“Last thing I remember is our beautiful bodies grinding up in that club—“ the other sings, clinging onto her friends arm as they sing in unison, “DRUNK IN LOVEE!”
“You think they’re gonna throw up?” Star asks, trying to hide her laugh as they belt out the chorus.
“God I hope not,” her best friend sighs, eyes on the screen of her phone as she throws her purse up her shoulder, “Big-E just texted me, said he wants me to pull up on him.”
“Who?” Star frowns deeply.
Her best friend frowns back, “Don’t do that. You know that’s my lil’ play thing!”
“Oh girl, you mean Emmanuel? The one that steals cars?” She ignores the arm that shoves her away, laughing at her best friend's irritation, “Please call that man by his government. I am not calling his ass by that stupid ass street name.”
“It’s cute!”
Star rolls her eyes, “Ghetto. You’re tryna’ go over there right now?”
She nods her head in reply, “Imma’ drop off dumb and dumber to my house before I go, let them raid my kitchen and sober themselves up. You’ good to drive home?”
“Yeah, I’m good—“
At the mention of her car, she halts as she sees her blood red Camaro, a bright yellow catching her eye as she sees not just one—but two boots on her back wheels. Her energy quickly falters, anger seeping up her spine as she picks up her dress, darting closer to her car as she spits, “Motherfucker.”
“Oh hell,” her best friend curses, “I thought you paid to park?”
“I did! Fuckin’ forty dollars just so I could be close to the door, the bouncer told me it was fine! That stupid ass nig—“
“Calm down. What are you gonna’ do?”
“I don’t fucking know. I have a night shift later on. This is so stupid!” She exclaims, leaning along her vehicle as she runs her fingers through her hair exasperatedly.
Almost like clockwork, Suguru appeared behind her after overhearing the conversation between Star and her friends, seeing as she was now fuming about the boot on her wheels. He gave a nod to his own friends as he made his way over to the bodies standing around her vehicle, a small hint of amusement on his face as he asked, “Everything alright?”
“Hell no. Motherfuckers put a boot on my damn car.”
“Damn. That’s crazy,” he tells her.
She narrows her eyes at the unnecessary comment, feeling her pressure spiking at the shit-eating grin upon his face. She then states, “Did you need something? Cause’ unless you got Triple A in your back pocket, imma’ ask you to get the fuck away from my car.”
“Hm, I didn’t know Triple A took boots off of cars,” he replies, tilting his head sarcastically.
Her eye twitches. Just as she’s about to go off on him, one of her drunken friends cuts her off as she drops her face to get a look at him, eyeing his body up and down as she asks, “Where the hell you’ from? It damn sure ain’t Louisiana.”
He smirks towards her as he replies, “Kyoto, Japan. Moved out here when I was younger, I stayed to help rebuild the businesses needing repair from Hurricane Katrina.”
“Oooh, that’s what you do for work?” The other friend also slurs.
“Imma’ architect, love. So yes.”
“Oooh, a working man. I like that,” the two friends both play off of each other, moaning together.
Star’s annoyance nearly clouds at the top of her head, Suguru enjoying the way her face becomes red, full cheeks fuming as she stares at him. She looked adorable.
“Your friends are funny,” he chuckles.
“Then get their numbers. You seem to be interested,” she fires back.
“Cute,” he eyes her, “I want you though.”
“So? Get in line. You ain’t the only one.”
“I wasn’t asking,” he tells her, large frame hovering over hers as he stares down. Unfortunately she was slightly mesmerized. What a fucking-goddamn flirt, she thinks again.
“I’ll take you home, babydoll. Since you seem to be stuck here anyway.”
“Nuh-uh! Hell no. You’ fine and all, but nobody knows your big headed ass. Try again, make your way back to your lil’ boy band,” her best friend cuts off.
Star shrugs, “I don’t know you.”
He’d glance down at her, shrugging his shoulders with his hands shoved in pockets before he’d gaze down into her friends eyes, “I understand. How about I give you my information?”
“Oop! He’s good,” the drunk friend comments.
“Whew, fine as hell, too!,” the other muttered, drunkenly giggling amongst each other.
Her best friend still has her arms crossed with narrowed eyes as she replies, “That sounds good and all, but no. Let’s go, Star.”
Star lets out a breath, seeing that irregardless of his playful nature, he becomes serious as he speaks of her safety. It wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to get a ride home from an attractive man, that’s all it was going to be. She then turns to her best friend, “Actually, it’s okay. He can take me home. I know you wanna go to your little sneaky links house and end the night off with him. You have my location, I’ll be fine. Go to Big-E’s house, or whatever the fuck his name is.”
“Big-E?” Suguru frowns, Star quickly reminds, “Hush.”
“You sure?” Her best friend frowns.
“Positive.”
She then looks back at Suguru as she says, “She has a gun. Just so you know.”
“You’ll have my information, she has her gun. She’ll be good,” he promises.
Her best friend apprehensively stares between the two, sighing out as she says, “Fine. Keep your phone close to you at all times, so god help me I will chop you up into little pieces if you don’t answer me,” she threatens, pulling her into a hug.
“I’ll hand you the knife,” Star chuckles, tightening the embrace.
“Let me get these dumbasses home,” she sighs, “I love you.”
“I love you more,” Star replies, the two girls behind them giggling as they wave to Suguru, “Byeeeee.”
He waves shyly, chuckling as they pull each other along to the car. Once the two are now left alone, Star looks to him as she says, “You think you’re so cute, huh?”
“I am. My mom tells me all the time,” he replies, “So, Big-E? That’s a cool name.”
“I’m ignoring you,” she mutters, going towards her car as she begins to pull her work clothes out of the backseat.
“Can you call me Big-S?”
“I will fuckin’ shoot you.”
The first thirty minutes of the car ride had been silent. Star had her eyes forward, her mind stressing over the fact that her car had a boot on it, her phone wouldn’t stop buzzing, and she was now receiving a ride from an ungodly hot stranger that slightly annoyed her. Her feet also ached. But she needed something to uplift her spirits. The wind rushed through her hair as he drove a sleek black Challenger, customizing it to look almost retro as it had a drop top, headlights a lime green color as it shined onto the street.
“Nice car,” she compliments softly.
He turns his head towards her, “So she does speak.”
“You can just say thank you.”
“Thank you,” he replies, “Wanna see how fast it goes?”
“No—“
She squeals out as he presses his foot on the gas, igniting the engine as he speeds faster down the road. She grips onto the door with a now red face. Suguru chuckles, the car engine growing louder as he presses his foot down.
“Relax, pretty. I’m a good driver, Never had an accident,” he would reassure, looking back at the road, “You mentioned having a night shift. Where do you work?”
“I’m an uh—Phlebotomist,” she tells him, shrieking lightly as he goes even faster, “Would you stop it?!Don’t be an ass, speeding down the highway and killing me won't make your dick any bigger!”
His laughter grew as she would shriek when he continued to drive even faster, taking corners just to tease her more, “I’m just tryna’ lighten up your night a bit, it is your birthday.”
“Or just slow down?” She suggested. Her eyes fall down to her phone that vibrates once again, body becoming irritated at the familiar number.
FROM:
smalldickbitchassmothafucka.
MESSAGE:
you ignoring me fr?
She flips the phone on her lap. Suguru catches this movement, looking down as he asks, “Ex tryna’ contact you again?”
“Unfortunately,” she mutters.
“Why not just block him?”
She thinks on that question, trying to figure out whether she wants to be honest with him—or honest with herself, really.
“I like the attention. But I don’t want to talk to him,” she shrugs.
He raises an eyebrow, “Isn't that a little petty?”
“Petty? Might be. I enjoy seeing him suffer a bit—if he’s even suffering. He’s probably calling me, laid up with some bitch as we speak,” a roughness is in her voice, almost like jealousy. She could admit that the idea bothered her a bit.
Suguru keeps his eyes on the road in front of them, “Maybe he is. Why do you give a fuck, though? He doesn’t deserve you. You’re a fuckin’ ten, he’s an idiot.”
She feels her face become warm, not sure why his words make her a little flustered. She usually had control in these situations. She then says, “I didn’t ask for a therapy session.”
“Not trying to give you one,” he frowned, “If you truly didn’t care, you would’ve cut contact. Saying you enjoy the attention sounds like bullshit. You still have some sort of feelings for him.”
“You really are nosey, aren’t you?” She scrunches her face.
“You went from your whole body shriveling up when he texts to you getting upset over the possibility that he is with someone else. Which is it?”
“Would you rather me shoot you in your ass, or shove my foot up there? Which is it?” She mocks, back to being annoyed with him.
“I hit a nerve,” he points out, “You could’ve just told me to drop the subject.”
“Threatening to shoot you should have sufficed that I wanted the conversation to end,” she sneers.
Their relationship was an extreme sore spot for her. She wasn’t sure if feelings were still there, or she was bitter from being hurt—nonetheless, she didn’t want to hear the truth. He couldn’t help but still think she was incredibly cute even when upset with him. As he continues to drive, the car is back to being silent. The streets are completely empty as her eyes stare out the window. Suguru then halted, twisting the wheel as he began to spin the vehicle.
Her wide eyes shifted to him as she asked, “What are you doing?”
A mischief is now in his eyes as he looks at her. He presses his foot along the gas, the car beginning to swerve faster as it flew backwards. He’s doing donuts. At first, she’s completely terrified. She cries, “Hey! Stop it!” Her hair flying all around her face, wind smacking her body.
“I told your ass to relax,” he places his hand along her thigh, reassuringly squeezing as he takes his other hand, turning the wheel in the direction he wants to go.
The car begins to spin faster. Her heart nearly falls in her ass. But as it continues, it feels almost as if she’s on a rollercoaster. Her stomach dropped in a way that made her feel ticklish. It felt like her entire body weighed nothing, and she was flowing through the air like a bird. Her curiosity got the best of her as the music within the car boomed along her skin, her head slightly tilting outside of the car, hair flying in the opposite direction, air swooping along her scalp. She faintly giggles.
The air felt good in her face, pulling her unruly curls out of it as the street lights shined along her expression. In that same second she jumped from curiosity to fearlessness. She shuffled onto her knees as she leaned her upper body out of the car and yelled out, releasing all the pent up energy within her body, whether it was good or bad.
Suguru grinned as he saw her beginning to enjoy herself. He would glance over at her, watching as she would lean out the car to yell, Cheshire grin along her face. Her frame was beautiful as she bent over, his mind aching to touch her, feeling the peace that radiated off her body. It sounded stupid to say, but at that moment she felt— free. She brought her head back into the car and laughed, seeing as Suguru reversed the vehicle back on the road, howling as he sped down the street.
“Look at you, so pretty when you’re not mad.”
“Shut up,” she rolled her eyes, biting her own mouth as she didn’t want to smile.
He poked her cheek, “I see that smile, you can’t hide it. Now I wanna make you smile all the time.”
She keeps her eyes to her lap, shaking her head at his words. Damn. She hated how good he was. Her mind has that floaty feeling she had when she first exited the club, body tingling as Suguru reached for her thigh again. He dragged his fingers up as he searched for her hand, pulling her towards himself as he kissed her palm, muttering, “You’re sweet, doll,” holding their intertwined fingers in his own lap. Something shifted in her chest.
They had finally made it to her apartment after almost an hour of driving. Although, she could admit that she was glad to have that hour with him. Silence greets them again, her free hand patting lightly along her lap as she tries to find her words. She couldn’t lie, he was patient —despite the multiple occasions where she almost crashed out. She felt like she needed to grow fond of the word sweet and take action.
“Um—do you wanna come inside for breakfast? My treat,” she offers, “I mean—I feel like I owe you something—if you want. Just—yes or no, please?” She stuttered out, wanting to kick herself.
For the first time, he catches her being…nervous? Those same round cheeks that he couldn’t stop staring at were warm within her face, no blush needed for her skin as she was doing it naturally.
A smirk grew in his face as he decided he wouldn’t make fun of her for it, “That’s fine.”
“That’s fine? That’s like saying, ‘sure’ like you just do it cause it seems convenient—“
“Star. I want to. Stop fussing, brat.”
She rolls her eyes, “I’m not a damn brat. Just needed clarification,” she grumbles.
“Can you feed a man, babydoll? I got needs,” he touches his stomach, groaning dramatically.
She’d never had another man in her house besides her ex in years. Although she wanted to play along with him, her awkwardness was beginning to return. She nodded her head, “Good. Yeah. Good. Okay,” she muttered, now wanting to full on roundhouse kick herself.
He grabs her things for her as she gets out of the car, Star’s nonexistent ass hairs standing up as he follows her up the stairs into her small apartment. Pink decor and stuffed animals laid all around the living room.
“Don’t say shit about my girly ass house, healing my inner child,” she defends, locking the door behind him. Her apartment almost seemed too small with him in it, his large frame damn near covering the entire house.
He’d glance around the room, feeling a little taken back by the large amounts of pink decor and toys, Suguru finding himself even more interested the more he saw. He let out a chuckle, “I wasn’t gonna say anything.”
He’d lean against the wall as the two of them stood inside, glancing down at his towering height, her apartment being so tiny that he almost had to kneel down to not reach the ceiling.
“Kuromi?” She then calls.
Before Suguru could ask who she was calling for, a pitch black pit-bull came flying out of her bedroom, beelining straight for him. As intimidating as the dog looked, the large animal pants excitedly at the scent of a new guest within the house, rubbing her body against him happily.
“Don’t worry. She’s harmless, as much as I want her to be the most terrifying guard dog. I think she secretly wants to be a cat, rubbing up against you like that,” Star can’t help but smile.
The dog was adorable. He let out another chuckle as he looked, crouching down with his hand extended, “Hey, girl. Come here.”
“You better stop, she falls in love easily,” Star warns as she sees them becoming acquainted, “Anything in particular you want for breakfast? I’ll cook anything but bacon, me or Kuromi don’t do pork,” she explained, patting her dog as she jumped up beside her, excitedly yelping at her presence.
“Why don’t you do pork?”
Star presses her lips together, sighing out as she hates telling this story, “Well…there was a petting zoo at my job one time and I took Kuromi with me cause they said other animals were allowed. And—well, she ate one of the pigs. It was so sad,” she frowns, her eyes coming up as she sees him trying to hold in his laugh, “Hey! Not funny,” she pouts.
Suguru’s eyes widened in curiosity at her answer to his question, before immediately letting out a laugh. His laugh would only continue further “Why the hell would you bring your dog to a petting zoo?”
“I just wanted her to see other animals,” she continues to pout, moving her face away as he gently touches her chin in comfort.
He’d look down at her as she pouted, unable to hold back from gently caressing her chin with his palm. He found himself being a little intrigued at the look she seemed to frequently make, Suguru leaning forward, “Your pouts are adorable, y’know that? I’ve never seen anyone who pouts and tantrums as much as you do.”
“I do not tantrum, dickhead. Just complain more often than others,” she corrects, making her way towards the kitchen, beginning to search around as she stated, “Just for that you’re getting a damn omelet. No choices for you!”
She bent over into the fridge, never noticing his eyes that continuously knocked down to her ass any opportunity he had to do so. He followed behind her as he leaned onto the counter, “What if I’m allergic to eggs? What if I was looking forward to having pancakes or something?”
“Then I hope you have an epipen! Should’ve thought about that before you basically called me a toddler,” she retorts, diving into the fridge for the ingredients she needed, placing them on the counter.
He found himself amused by her attitude. He’d lean over her shoulder slightly as she brought out the ingredients she needed, letting a grin grow on his lips as he spoke into her ear, “Keep talking shit and I’ll put you over my knee to spank your ass like a damn toddler.”
She blows her hair out of her face, feeling a chill run through her body at his close proximity. She brushes him off as she then mutters, “Womp womp. Whatever, anyways, ooh! I have turkey bacon, is that okay?”
He exhales, “Perfectly fine, baby. Let’s hope you cook as good as you look.”
“Don’t be tryna’ kiss my ass now cause you want a good breakfast. Besides, I’m the best omelet maker in this century. In this galaxy, you’ll see,” she nods her head, grabbing for a pan and whisking spoon.
“Are you even alive if you haven’t had an omelet from Star?” He taunts.
Star winks, “Exactly. You’re smart. I like men with big sexy brains.”
As she begins cracking the eggs into a bowl, her phone buzzes for the thousandth time tonight. She unfortunately had the ability to see the screen since it was facing upward, briefly reading over the message, honestly wishing she hadn’t.
FROM:
smalldickbitchassmothafucka.
MESSAGE:
imma come over there when i get off work. i wanna talk to you. i fucked up.
“Do you need me to block his ass for you? You seem to be fuckin’ hardheaded,” Suguru speaks, Star looking behind herself as she catches an irritation in his voice.
“He’s just pissed that I’m ignoring him. He’ll stop eventually.”
“He’s been texting you since four in the morning, probably even before that. It’s damn near seven now. The more you ignore him, the more he’s gonna seek out your response.”
“Are you putting on your therapist hat again? I don’t think I asked for another session,” she furrowed her eyebrows towards him.
“I don’t need to wear my therapist hat to understand how an ex’s shitty behavior works, baby. You’re an enabler.”
She let out a breath as she asked, “Hand me an egg, please?” Reflexively blowing her hair out of her face as she tried to ignore his comment.
He raised a brow at the sudden change of subject, his hand beginning to move to pick up one of the eggs before he’d tease, “Say please again. Much sweeter in your pretty voice.”
“Hand me the fucking egg, jackass?” She corrects herself, smiling as she does so.
“Good girl. You’re better behaved than before,” he then hands her the egg, Star snatching it out of his palm.
Star begins to play music from her phone, ignoring the multiple messages as she places it back down, continuing to cook. Silence comes back between the two as Suguru begins looking around her apartment, catching younger pictures of her, family portraits, small things that made him grin. As he continued to her bedroom, he noticed a phone holder mounted along her wall across from the bed, frowning at the randomly placed adapter.
“What’s this for?” He asks, Star leaning herself out of the kitchen as she follows his eyes to her bedroom, “Hm?”
As she made eye contact with the familiar piece of equipment, an influx of memories came flooding into her mind. She couldn’t debate whether they were fond memories. She wipes her hands with a paper towel, annoyed at the blood filling her cheeks as she replies, “We uh…use to record ourselves…y’know. Or I’d record something for him,” she says quietly.
His brows would raise a little as he heard her explain what it had been used for, his lips curling into a teasing smirk.
“Don’t smile like that. It’s creepy,” she turned back into the kitchen, continuing to crack another egg into the bowl as she was planning to mix the yolk with seasoning.
“That’s not very nice, doll. I didn’t even make fun of you this time.”
“Your face told it all,” she grumbled.
“How about you make your signature omelet so good it completely masks my thoughts?” He’s back to his taunting, entertained by how riled up it makes her.
“Maybe I should poison it then, hm?” She suggests politely.
“Will it give me the shits or make me sleepy?”
She presses her lips together, a small chuckle leaving her mouth at that as she giggles, “You’re so dumb.”
The soft music playing was a comfort to her. With all of their innocent flirting, Star didn’t realize just how much she was intriguing Suguru. All of the times she had an attitude with him, snapped at him, her smile, her sexy laugh, all of it was being jotted down in his head. He was like a ticking time bomb ready to blow up at any second. Fortunately for her, his time capsule had began when they first met. Unfortunately, his time capsule had just now run out. As she began to stir the egg yolk, her eyes hadn’t noticed as Suguru watched her every move. His vision had darkened, tunneling in on her. Specifically on her dress and the way her body curved within it.
Her innocence had gotten the best of her, in her own world as she happily spoke, “You’re gonna love the taste of these, promise.”
“What do you taste like?”
The words fall from his lips quickly. It spiked up her spine like he’d lit a match, making sure that she wasn’t crazy and that she’d heard his words correctly.
Her eyes turn towards him as she says, “I—huh?—“
She squealed lightly as he picked her up by the hips, placing her roughly on the kitchen counter. Her face goes completely hot, unable to say anything against his dark eyes. He would laugh darkly at her reaction, taking in the way her cheeks flushed brightly as he placed her onto the countertop with such ease. His eyes would wander over her now exposed thighs, hands gripping the skin as he moved to stand in between them, “Are you always this pretty when you’re flustered, Star?”
“Flustered? I—well—“
His lips are along her throat, Star’s hand flying upward and gripping tightly along his neck as he sucks along the skin like it’d be his last time ever doing so. Her entire body melted at his touch. She couldn’t think of the last time she’d felt this type of pleasure, her eyes fluttered shut, a whimper leaving her mouth before she could think about suppressing it.
He would feel her grip him tightly as she let out a light whimper, a grin spreading wide on his face hearing the noise fall from her mouth. He would press another few kisses onto her throat, his mouth trailing up until he lightly nipped at her ear, tugging it between his teeth as he whispered to her, “Fuck. You’re so sensitive, baby. You’re already falling apart.”
She didn’t know where these feelings came from, but it was like a river rushing through a dam, crumbling the wall as her body was now immensely aroused. She wanted him to touch her in ways no one else hadn’t. No one else couldn’t. Her phone began to buzz again, her eyes looking over to it, suddenly being pulled away as Suguru gripped her chin, harshly pulling her mouth to his.
He would be brought out of his own thoughts, feeling her begin to look away as the sound of her phone echoed through the room again. A low growl would come from his chest as he began to pull her chin back towards him, his mouth deepening the kiss. His hands would move up, grabbing onto her hips as he pulled her forward towards him, pressing her body more firmly against his own. His kiss was different. It was passionate, all while being completely lustful. His tongue was within her mouth, damn near removing the tonsils from her throat as he swirled it around, holding her by her chin dominantly.
His tongue explored the inside of her mouth as he groaned softly, loving the taste she had. She was sweeter than she looked. He would move one of his hands down to her thigh, giving her skin a light pinch between his fingers, Star gasping softly as he hoisted her against him, wrapping her legs around his waist. In that vast moment he also used one of his hands to grab her phone. He continued to kiss her, digging his fingers into her scalp as he jerked her head back, yanking her face upwards to suck along the skin of her throat. The feeling was so overwhelming, her eyes closed as she dug her teeth into her lip.
She barely had a conscience to notice as he placed her phone within the holder against the wall, her ears then registering as he turned on the camera, pressing the record button.
She looked up to him as she said, “What are you…”
He would chuckle at her questioning tone, his lips moving down along her jawline as he replied, “I wanna see how pretty you look on camera. You like being watched, doll?”
“No,” she immediately lies. Her entire being was interested in his offer, but she refused to let herself fall that easily. Her breath hitched as his hand fell down to her ass, gripping the skin in his palm as he harshly spanked her at her response.
“Don’t fuckin’ lie to me. Be honest and give me permission before I do anything else to you,” he demands.
She was at a loss for words. When she realized that he was more worried about her consent than anything else, she nodded her head, “Yes, I like being watched,” coming so soft from her plush lips, pulling him forward into another kiss.
She’d never had a man be so forward with her, eyes catching her face within the camera as he laid her along the end of the bed, her eyes only able to see his broad back within the camera as he gripped his shirt from behind, removing it to reveal an inked up back.
His eyes would glance into the camera that was pointed at the two of them, his grin slowly growing into a full smirk as he saw her expression. His arms flexed around him, showing off the ink that was along his back before he’d pull the shirt off fully, tossing it to the floor as he turned back around and kneeled down in front of her.
Her eyes watched him. Her entire frame jumped as he yanked her to the end of the bed, tossing her legs over his shoulders. She then heard him mutter, “Fuck that,” twisting her around so her back was now facing the camera, his body leaning against the front of the bed. She was now sitting along the top of his face, legs hoisted above his broad shoulders.
He groans, digging his fingers into her skin as he pushes her dress up, his eyes catching sight of the name, ‘Angel’ tattooed along her ass cheek. He arrogantly chuckles, Star gasping lightly as he spanks right above the name, gripping the trembling skin within his palm as he groans, “Imma’ eat your pussy so fucking good.”
He instantly wraps his lips around her clit as he pulls her down, grunting as he tastes her, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he does so. She was like candy to an addict, a reward that wasn’t so easily given to him. He wanted to drown in her. A demon out of hell he was, sucking along Star’s clit as he dragged his tongue through the entirety of her, twisting his head from side to side as he delved deeper, relishing her scent melodically.
She sucked in a breath, knees shifting on the edge of the bed as he held her by the back of her thighs, his eyes locking up to hers in a way that had her release a cruel exhale.
“I’m g—gonna fall—“
She nearly slipped, his strong arms catching her legs, locking them up over his shoulders, allowing her to lean halfway on the bed. He guided, “Control your hips, baby. I’m doing the rest. You’re so fuckin’ wet. I want more,” he grunts, nuzzling his lips against her clit, nudging the sensitive flesh as he lapped his tongue up and down, gripping her skin tighter as he commanded, “Give me more.”
“Suguru,” she whimpered. He realized up until now that this was her first time saying his name, the sound so foreign among her tongue that it ignited him even further. Her back arched, deepening her core along his face, shuddering out another gasp. His tongue worked along her sensitive folds in teasing strokes, dragging down until he met with her squelching hole, tongue fitting perfectly inside of her as he pushed within the velvet of her walls.
Star’s mouth broke open as she moaned, gripping her hand in his hair that framed along the edge of the bed. He ground her hips along his face with desperation. It was as if he were starving, making out with her core in a way that had his lips and jaw soaked, head knocking up and down as he grunted against her.
He locked his mouth along her clit again, Star shudderingly gasping and whining peevishly that she tugged his hair, eyes tightly shut as he dirtily spit along her opening and watching as her chest palpitated, running his tongue along the entirety of her pussy and slowly pushing his head forward, suckling against her. He dirtily kissed her clit, eyeing it dangerously from above before spitting on it again, hungrily taking it back into his mouth. He devoured her. She gripped the dark streams until her knuckles blushed a crimson red, blood flow coursing through her veins immaculately.
Her eyes briefly made their way behind herself, seeing the outline of her body atop of his face, her vision able to see as his tongue plasters upward and onto her core, her eyes quickly falling back to the opposite direction as he stings another spank to her ass, “Pussy is so pretty, baby. Like fuckin’ art,” he groans.
He went from pressing kisses along her inner thighs just to get a look at her core glistening tempestuously, to his tongue again running along the entirety of her, taking in the rosy color against his taste buds, groaning tumultuously at how something so vulgar was deliriously alluring. Star’s lower abdomen trembled at the merciless action. Her hips swirled slightly as she whimpered gratifyingly when he ran his index and middle finger along her clit, running down her core before he sunk his fingers inside of her, scissoring her opening. Suguru listened as she prettily moaned in his ears from the harsh actions, her nails shoving into his hair as he inhaled her honey streamed scent and delectable taste, a mixture of inebriety that Suguru desired for.
She thought for a second, maybe he hated her. Maybe he wanted to do some type of torture upon her. Had to. His long tongue, slick with saliva lengthens out as he grips the bottom of her thighs, bouncing her up and down against his face, grunting each time his tongue pokes at her g-spot. Star reaches back as he grips for his arm, whimpering as Suguru shoves her hand away, spanking her for even touching him.
“Put your fuckin’ hand down.”
“Suguru, please. I’m gonna cum.”
“Then make a mess on me.”
The sound of her opening sounds wet, sticky and spurting out as she creams just from his mouth, Suguru arrogantly chuckling as he spreads his tongue for the camera, “Yeah, yeah. Too fuckin’ good to me, creaming on my tongue. Imagine how you’ll look on my dick. I’m gonna fuck you stupid.”
She believes him, too. Star holds her breath as he pulls her body upwards, his back now fully against the bed’s banister as he sat up against it. He was quick, twisting her hair within his fist as he guided her pretty face towards him, locking her within a kiss that she had to exhale for. He pulls her back from his lips, “Such a fuckin’ brat,” Star is already knowing, reaching for the hem of his pants as she pulls them off, her eyes not expecting something so heavy and veiny to slap along his belly button. Her mouth goes agape.
He watches her within the camera, her silhouette beautiful to his eyes, back arching as she kneels towards him, lashes fluttering against her full cheeks as her breath hitches from the hold he has along her hair. She wraps her lips around his tip, pink and soft within her mouth as she slides her mouth down, letting him sink deeper within her throat until she coughs, humming with her eyes rolled to the back of her head. Suguru’s eyes never leave the sight of her on video, curls shifting in his fist as Star bobs her head up and down, whimpering out as she begins to move her neck faster, desperately wanting every inch of him within her throat.
“All you needed was something in that fuckin’ filthy mouth of yours,” he grunts, watching as she wraps her hands around the bottom that her mouth can’t reach, moaning softly as she massages his balls with her fingers. His intense stare at her darkens, “This is all you wanted, huh? Spit on my dick, don’t need you crying that I’m tearing you apart. Need you to take every inch of me.”
Shut up, shut up, she thinks, his words making her more wet by the second, gasping against him as he spanks her again, rushing his hand up to the back of her neck as he pushes her face down. Her arousal practically drips along the bed. Star’s lips begin to burn, her throat entirely full as his tip knocks at the top of her mouth, almost feeling empty each time he pulls out to slam back in.
“I’m so fuckin’ horny,” she whimpers, Suguru chuckling as he pulls her face up to his, “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” she admits, carelessly so, opening her mouth as she sucks him back down her throat, slamming her lips down the front of his hips, Suguru grunting out, abdomen tightening.
“Fuck. C’mere,” he pulls her up, smashing their lips together roughly. Star pouts along his mouth as he stopped her, whining again as he feels her pout, bringing his hand as he gently slaps her face, “Needy ass,” he grits his teeth, pulling her on top of his lap.
His tip is prodding at her opening. Her back arches as she raises her hips away from him, feeling his tip fat against her tiny hole. Suguru takes himself within his hand, using the other as he holds her hip above him, sinking his tip into her, stretching her out as his girth was just as large as his length. It felt almost cruel. She fought with her dress as her body became extremely hot, Suguru taking his hands as he effortlessly shredded the material, her mind too gone to even become upset.
He then gripped her chin, forcing her to look behind herself and into the camera. Her cheeks were warm as he did so, trying to turn back towards his eyes, unable to do so as he shook his head.
“Don’t look at me, babydoll. I want you to watch yourself as you ride me,” his tone had turned seductive as he spoke to her, his hands moving up to her waist before he’d add with a chuckle, “Put on a fuckin’ show for me,” he sinks her down further, Star’s eyes tightly shutting as his dick engulfed her entire body, a deep pinch of pleasure mixed with pain as she fully dropped down, whimpering as his balls slapped her thighs.
His eyes washed over her body without clothing, a figure more beautiful than he could imagine. Her large breast and brown areolas were made to look at, nipples shaking as he adjusted himself inside of her. Star can only stare at the name tatted on her skin for a moment. Suguru runs his fingers along the skin, gripping as he slams his palm down against it once more. She has no time to react as he’s pulling her hips up, dropping her down slowly, agonizing at this point. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head, moaning out as she looked up to her face, blown with lust.
His grin grew into a full smirk as his hips began to move against hers, her moan echoing in his ears as he heard it. He’d chuckle softly at her reaction. His tongue would run along his bottom lip, his hands sliding up along her waist before he’d pull her body firmly onto his own, pulling his arms under her legs as he kept his fingers against the skin of her ass, pulling her up fast, dropping her down slowly. Star’s mouth parted, listening as their skin smacked in contact, eyes rolling to the back of her head as she stuttered, “O—oh my fuckin’ god, Suguru.”
“You want me so badly…fuckin’ hell. Your pussy keeps…pulling me in…” he talks in between her stretched core meeting his hips, skin clapping louder than before.
She seemed to lose herself in the heat, unable to listen as he spoke along her neck, “Oh shit,” pulling her down harder, skin melting together like velcro, snatching away from each other each time he placed her in the air, pulling her roughly back down, the balls of her feet swinging in the air as he was in full control of her. His face moves to press into her shoulder, his teeth finding her skin as he’d bite down along her neck and jawline.
His own face was within the camera now, keeping her lips above his skin so he could still hear every sound falling from her lips. She dug her fingers into his neck as her arms were wrapped around his shoulders, only able to groan deeply from his ruthless strokes, a pain that was so sweet to the touch.
His eyes would glance upwards, watching the way they rocked together in the camera that was still running, his smirk growing wider as he told her, “Eyes here. Now,” Star looking into his dark expression, mouth still open in shock of how good he was fucking her, how deep he was inside of her. She whimpers quietly, “Yeah, yeah,” eyes dropping to watch the monster that halfway pulls out, stretching her every time he shoves back in. Alabaster arousal paints his dick the more he pulls out, Star whimpering again, “Hitting my fuckin’ g-spot, baby,” and he smirks, “Pull my dick in more, yeah, yeah,” her walls clamping down on him, sucking him in like she never wanted to let go.
His teeth clamp down on her neck as he’d continue to bite and suck softly at her skin. He’d give another rough bite onto her, not stopping his hips from meeting her own, a moment of silence almost coming between them, their ears listening as she gushes on his dick, slick noises wavering between their bodies heavenly. He was evil, now taking both of his palms as he locked his fingers together around her lower back, gripping as he pulled her up, harshly dropping her down. The camera caught her entire face. She whined, “Baby,” the sound being captured as he kissed her lips, never stopping his movement.
He’d chuckle, “‘Baby?’ You’re falling apart,” his tongue pushing into her mouth and sliding across hers. He didn’t stop moving his hips, hands now sliding up along her back to tangle in her hair, locking his fingers back together as he has a trap along her curls. He’d groan against the kiss, mouth dominating her own as she whimpered, music against his lips that he wanted on replay.
His hands slid along her back, tangling more into hair as he was now bouncing her down onto his hips. Her eyes were to the back of her head, choking out cries against his mouth, moaning in ways she hadn’t before. Her reactions were all in the arrogance of his expression, her body pooling into his hands as she completely submitted to him. He’d groan again, a cocky expression on his face as he felt her submissive manner, his hands pulling at her hair to keep his mouth against hers. His tongue would slide across hers again as his eyes locked onto her own, a smirk playing on his mouth as his hips continued to rock. He’d pull his lips from hers, chuckling breathlessly as he’d command, “Tell me how much you like this shit.”
“Yes, baby. I like it so much. So much,” she softly cried, “I’m so…” she gasped within his mouth, his hand coming along her throat as he twisted her face towards the camera, slamming her hips down to meet his, “Don’t go mute on me, doll,” he’d tease with a chuckle, watching the way his hand had her face directed at the camera, the force slamming her hips down onto his own causing her to cry out again. His fingers tightened around her jaw, keeping her facing the camera as he whispered lowly, “Finish your sentences, big girl.”
She didn’t even remember, she was so lost within him. She admitted, “You’re making me feel so fuckin’ good…so good, Suguru…”
“That’s such a good girl,” he coos, his hand sliding from her jaw as his fingers tangled in her hair again, his mouth pressing into her shoulder as he’d start placing a series of marks along her skin. His hips would start to rock roughly against hers. He groans out, “Look at how fuckin’ pretty you are.”
“You’re so pretty too, baby…” she whimpers mindlessly, “So fucking hot,” she whimpers deeply.
“You’re gonna make me get a big ego with all of that praise, baby,” he’d tease again, pulling her hair gently and groaning lowly. His hands slide along her back, fingers digging into her flesh as he continued rocking into her, her voice only able to be heard within the camera, Suguru keeping his face directly into the phone as she whined, “It’s already big…”
She probably sounded like a bimbo at this point. Star placed the bottom of her feet beside his legs, placing her hands on his arms, hair falling against her face as she poked her ass upwards, moving her own hips as she dropped down, bouncing as she hiccuped whines from doing so. “So fucking big baby, yes, stretching my pussy—” her voice is high, feminine, dumb. She knew it’d make him more arrogant. She didn't care.
He raises an eyebrow, smirk deadly as he places his hand along her throat, shoving her down to bounce harder as he spoke, “Look at you, bouncing and creaming on my dick like a fuckin’ slut. You look so pretty on camera, baby. Fuckin’ supermodel. Needy ass supermodel,” slapping his palm along the cheek of her face again, knocking her sense down more and more.
His hands move back under her thighs, locking his fingers together as he gains his control back, Star whining louder as he smacks her down onto his hips, a short pain rupturing up her spine, pleasure always overriding it. It felt so good. The camera was now focused on her, his own body not being seen at all, the only other thing being seen was his strong grip on her waist as he’d reply with a breathy tone, “You feel it, baby?” His tip reached for her insides, searching for her soul.
“I feel it,” she cries out, whining like a baby, dropping down onto his hips, gripping for his arm as she pulls it up to her throat, begging for him to squeeze without verbally asking.
He’d chuckle again, shaking his head at her whining, fingers nonetheless tightening around her throat as he added the pressure she wanted. He sees as tears collect in her eyes, mouth drooling as she sniffles out a senseless giggle. His mouth would move up to her throat, panting breathlessly against the area, tongue sticking out as he drags along the skin, “Feel that, doll?”
“I feel everything baby, every single thing,” she gasps, listening as their skin harshly makes contact, “You’re so sweet, baby…giving me what I want…”
“I’ll give you anything you want, doll,“ he’d groan, his hips rocking up to hers as she’d come down onto him, the sound of their bodies slamming together echoing in his ears. He’d groan again, his fingers tightening ever so slightly as he’d mutter breathlessly, “You’re taking me so fuckin’ good. I know I’m stretching you out.“
“Give me more then,” she groans, “Please. Please. I’m begging, baby.”
“You want more?“ He’d chuckle as they continued to rock together, his voice breathless as he’d speak, “How can I say no when you’re begging so nicely?”He’d groan, “You’re gonna have to help me out though, doll.”
“Tell me what to do,” she begs, gasping more than before.
His grip on her neck would loosen as he’d release, moving his fingers down along the center of her chest and towards her stomach, a smirk crossing his mouth as he’d mutter, “Lean back.”
She easily complied, placing her hands along his thighs as she leaned backwards. His hands would slide over her stomach again, his nails leaving light scrape marks along her skin as he’d continue, “Keep your back arched for me, baby. Can you do that? For me?“
She nodded her head, keeping herself more arched, breath shuddering as her hair fell along her eyes. She gasps softly as he takes a hold of her legs, placing them directly on the sides of his head as they were pointing upwards in the air, dropping her down against his hips, dick slamming up to her in a different angle. Her arms shook as she pulled her hips up so they weren’t sitting on his legs, eyes in the back of her head as her body sloppily dragged with him, moaning viciously at his movements.
“You’re such a good girl, Star,” he gruffly tells her, her unruly curls shadowing her eyes. Her plump lips parted as she moaned out, “Such a good girl for you, I promise. I’ll always be your good girl,” she moaned, sounding incredibly insane, she knew that. She still didn’t care.
“Keep talking like that and you’re gonna make me act crazy, baby,“ he’d groan. His mouth came forward, sucking on her nipple before he’d pulled away, a light mark left behind in the place of his mouth.
“You wanna be marked up by me, baby? Leave a couple of tattoos for you?” He asks her.
“Yes,” she whispers, eyes still in the back of her head, “Would love it so much, thank you, baby,” she whimpered, body trembling with every movement he gives her.
“You’re so fuckin’ pretty like this,“ he’d groan out, his hands giving her hair a light tug. His eyes would run along her body, biting his bottom lip as he’d mutter breathlessly, “Look at those pretty marks. So pretty all over your skin.”
“Lemme’ give you one, baby,” she begged, “Wanna feel your hair. Love your hair,” she complimented, staring over his beautiful features, the low bun within his hair still attempting to hold up, despite their activity.
He’d chuckle with a groan, smirking at her words before he’d release his grip on her hair, nodding as he’d reply with a breathy tone, “You can touch me, baby. I know you like my hair.” He’d brush a strand of hair from his face, watching her hands as they moved through it, biting down on his bottom lip.
She brought her hands into his dark hair, tugging lightly as she sucked the skin of his neck, eyes rolling as he was still dropping her down roughly along his hips, lips nearly falling off of his skin from the movement.
“You’re so damn talented with your mouth, baby,” he’d groan, the light tug on his hair bringing another groan from his chest. His hands slide along the skin of her abdomen, hips bucking upwards into her as he’d continue to let Star mark him with hickeys, his head falling forward. His breath would waft past her ear, words coming out in a groan as he’d whisper, “What am I gonna do with you?”
“Ruin me,” she gasped deeply, looking into his eyes, “You’re ruining me,” she cried out.
His breath hitches, a groan escaping him again as he’d feel his hips twitching upwards into hers, his expression growing dark as he’d listen to her words. He’d give a chuckle against her skin before biting down on her again as he’d reply with a breathy tone, “I’m gonna make you fuckin’ obsessed.”
“Do you feel good, baby? Please tell me you do,” she begged, kissing his lips softly, feeling her body relaxing in his, taking every movement he gives her.
“Baby, I feel fuckin’ amazing,“ he’d groan, his words being muttered against her lips as he’d slide his tongue into her mouth again, letting it tangle with hers. His hands would once again tangle in her hair, tugging on the dark tresses as he’d pressed her lips harder against his own, his breath wafting out against her face, “I feel so, so good, baby.”
“Gonna make me sore, baby…” she whimpered out, holding onto his hair, whimpers grunting into sobs as he brought them back to their original position, bouncing her up and down.
“I’ll tear your fuckin’ pussy apart,” he grunts out, hips bucking upwards as he’d listen to her whiney tone. He was getting close, it wouldn’t be much longer for him with the way her cries were echoing.
But no. That’s not how he wanted her to finish. He suddenly twisted their positions, his body leaned back against the wall of the bed, her legs now under his as she was facing the opposite of him. Her expression was now directly into the camera. She was almost sitting along his lap from behind, eyes rolling to the back of her head as he angled his dick, pushing it deep back into her, his fist collecting hair as he pulled her back onto him with that leverage, fierce and quick.
Her eyes were to the back of her head, his own expression looking dark as he now held her body against his own from the new angle. His hands would grip her waist, pulling her down onto him as he’d groaned out, his chest rising and falling in heavier huffs as his breath wafted around her shoulder, “Look at you, baby. All pretty and ruined, crying and whining for me. Gonna make you think about me all the time.”
His breath would waft against her skin as he muttered out a low groan, hips meeting hers with powerful thrusts. She was back to crying again, mascara running down her face as her mouth parted open at his thrusts, shocked moans jutting out from her lips, fists tightening along the sheets as she arched her back for him, the angle taking him deeper than before. She was in hell.
“Can’t, Suguru…” she cried out, gasping as she whined, makeup ruined as pleasure raptured along her body. He didn’t stop, continuously pulling her back, her eyes going down as she could only stare at herself in the camera.
“You can, doll,” He’d groan. He then sat himself up, one foot along the bed as he twisted her hair tighter within his hold, tongue running along the skin of her back before biting down on the flesh. His mouth would continue sucking at her skin as he’d groan again, his breath wafting to her ear as he snatched her back, “You don’t have a fuckin’ choice.”
“Babyyyy…” she whined out, looking back at him as he slammed her down onto his hips, crying in insanity for him. She dug her hands into the bed, trying to keep up with him, her mascara ridden face unable to look at her own expression.
His hand would grip tightly onto her hair, holding her in place as he spoke deeply, “Say you like it, doll.”
“I love it. I love it so fuckin’ much,” she continuously whined, keeping her eyes on his that were behind her, her face in her shoulder as she groaned out, shuddering cries against him.
He’d groan again, his nails digging into her skin as he pulled her down onto his hips again, his own moving up into hers as he’d moan his own pleasure against her skin.
“That’s my baby,” he’d tell her, his hands pulling at her hair again, trying to keep her facing the camera, “You look so pretty, baby. So pretty.”
At this point, she could only nod her head, agreeing as her voice was lost, crying softly as she gripped the sheets, trying to keep up with him.
“You’re gonna be mine, baby,“ he’d groan out, his breath wafting into her ear as he’d continue to groan, “You’re gonna be obsessed with me. You’re all mine. Say it. Say it, brat.”
Her eyes were rolled back as if she was possessed, babbling out incoherent sounds as she relaxed beneath him, lazily gripping the sheets, hips moving back and forth by his doing. She groaned softly, “I’m gonna be yours. Obsessed with you. Wanna be yours,” she hiccuped, as crazy as it even sounded.
“That’s my girl,“ his breath wafting once again as his body started to shiver from how close he was, his grip on her hair tightening again, “Say some more. Keep saying it, baby. Say it for me.”
“Gonna belong to you. Gonna think about you. Always think about this moment,” she bites her lip, sniffling as she grunts, “Gonna think about how you handled me. Never gonna forget it,” she promises, voice soft, meaning every word.
He kept his pace going, listening to her words before pulling her head up to kiss at the skin of her shoulder, a grunt of frustration and need as he replied, “Yeah. Look at you,” his hips were starting to stutter. He was close.
“Gonna let me fuck you like this again?” He asks.
“Yes. Yes. Yes,” she promised, nodding her head fiercely, feeling as her stomach begins to tremble, his breath along her neck from behind. He chuckled at her repetition.
He pushed her back down along the sheets, keeping her in perfect view of the camera, his sculpted body only showing from below as he pulled out of her, slamming in harshly as he spoke, “Say you’ve never had it this good,” pulling her face up, having her expression directly in the camera.
“N—never had it this good, baby. Never fuckin’ will if it isn’t you,” she grits her teeth, becoming more wet as she digs her fingers into the sheets, slamming her hips back to meet his.
“Damn,” he bites his lip, darkly chuckling, “Say that shit again. Promise me you won’t forget.”
“Won’t fucking forget.”
“I’m gonna make you fuckin’ crazy,” he strokes deeper, one hand holding her hair, the other spanking her ass as she swirls her hips, “Yeah, show me all that shit you were doing at the club.”
She bites her lip, laughing sultrily as she does so, slamming her hips down as she whimpers, “Like that?” It makes him grunt, spanking her painfully as he snatches her hips back, “Just like that. You’re gonna love it here.”
“Fuckin’ love it now,” she bites her lip, grinding her hips, whining them around before dropping them back down against his length.
He’d groan at the drop of her hips, his body shivering as his own hips started to tremble more violently, his hand would release her hair to slide along her body, tracing over small tattoos along her spine as he’d groan, “Tell me you love me, baby. Let me hear you say it, doll.”
This. She knew it sounded insane. She’d just met this man, and maybe they were speaking so crazy to one another because of the moment. But he had successfully completed his mission—her soul was within his palms, and she wasn’t getting it back.
He slammed her hips down onto him, her mouth lightly shouting as she said, “Yeah, yeahhh. I love you and your dick so fuckin’ much, Suguru,” gasping deeply from that.
“Say it again,” he groaned, his own body starting to tremble, his own release nearing as those perfect little words came from her gorgeous little mouth, “Say it more, baby. Let me hear you say it, keep saying it…say it until your damn voice breaks, doll.”
Her voice had broken. She cried out, “Love it. Love you. Yes. Yes. Yes,” through every connection of their hips, her orgasm ripping through her body so harshly that she screamed, keeping her eyes down as she did so. He yanked her face up, forcing her to watch herself release, yanking her back until she could feel him in her stomach. She cried, tears pouring along the sheets of the bed.
He’d chuckle, his hands tugging at her hair again as he’d groan out again, her screams bringing him to his climax as well, hips still rocking into hers as a groan escaped his chest, “That’s my girl…say you’re mine…” he’d groan, his eyes watching intensely at her expression in the recording as she’d cry out his name.
“All yours, Suguru…” she sobbed mercilessly, trembling through her orgasm.
He moaned softly as his own release continued, his breath wafting out in heavy huffs before he’d chuckle again, his head falling forward to rest softly on her shoulder, his own body trembling from the aftermath of his release. He’d groan again as he’d speak, his words muttering lowly in her ear, “That’s a good fuckin’ girl.”
She panted against him, her body nearly going limp within his arms, his strong hands catching her in an instant. He pulled out from her which made her body tense, twisting her around as he grunted, “Give me your mouth,” pushing his tongue past her lips as he kissed her. She relaxed under his mouth—as usual. She then pulled her face down embarrassingly as she pressed it into his chest, whimpering as she couldn’t look at herself in the camera anymore.
Once he’d finally ridden out his own release, his arms would loop around her, holding her in a protective manner in his lap as he’d pressed light kisses along the skin of her shoulder, mumbling softly, “You did so good, baby.”
She whimpered again at his touch, her body sensitive as she pushed her face farther into his chest, embarrassed to even look at him. He’d chuckle again, his hands massaging comforting circles into her skin as he’d pull her chin over, his thumb lifting her face up so she’d look into his eyes as he’d speak, “Don’t get shy on me now, doll. I was finally getting to look at that pretty face.”
“Don’t be mean,” she muttered, face still within his chest, moving into his shoulder.
He’d chuckle as she’d move to his shoulder, placing light kisses along her hair as he’d speak, “I’m just teasing, baby…but damn, you look so pretty when you whine.”
She smacks his arm, feeling that makes him laugh. She let out a breath as she exhaled, “I wanna shower.”
“I think we could use a shower. Clean up the mess you made. Should’ve had your ass squirting and crying—“
“Do you have a damn off button?” She glares up at him.
His laugh grew louder, his body shaking softly as he’d give a small shrug, “Sorry, pretty. I’m always like this, I can’t help it,” tilting his head slightly as he’d add, “You’re gonna have to get used to it.”
“Seems like it, since I sold my soul to you,” she grumbled.
“Don’t make deals with devils then.”
She narrowed her eyes on him, wondering how much of that statement was actually true. But damn, he was fine. She'd have to figure that out another time.
She rolled her eyes, “I’m gonna go feed Kuromi. Meet me in the shower, dick.”
She ignores his chuckle as he smacks her ass on the way out, “You’re gonna have to put ‘Suguru’—or ‘Big-S’, still optional—on the other cheek next!” Ignoring him as she embarrassingly wraps a towel around her body, speeding out of the room to go to the kitchen. She should’ve finished that damn omelet.
She didn’t even realize her phone was still on the wall, nor the fact that she didn’t have it—but Suguru did. Time passed as they were now in the shower together, Star giggling as he trapped her along the wall, desperately kissing her neck. She turned her head, kissing her newfound quest, handprint pressed along the heat of the shower as she moaned, eyes tightly shutting as he slid back into her from behind.
….She also never noticed as her phone had stopped buzzing. The last text was sent from her, after all.
FROM:
star.
TO:
smalldickbitchassmothafucka.
MESSAGE:
*attachment, 1 video*
stop texting. she’s busy.
#black stories#reading#writers on tumblr#black#getou suguru x black female character#getou suguru smut#geto suguru#jjk suguru#getou suguru x reader#jujutsu kaisen suguru#jjk x black reader#black characters#black women
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Love notes
Theo Nott x fem reader
Summary: Theo giving Love Notes to y/n in class
w/c: 1289
The dimly lit dungeon classroom buzzed with whispers as Professor Snape droned on about the intricacies of potion-making. The flickering candlelight cast long shadows across the room, creating an almost ethereal atmosphere. You were seated in your usual spot, diligently taking notes and trying to ignore the curious stares from your classmates. You had noticed the glances directed your way for the past few weeks, but the reason behind them remained a mystery.
A gentle tap on your shoulder drew you out of your concentration. You turned to see a small, folded piece of parchment on your desk. Your heart skipped a beat as you recognized the familiar, elegant handwriting: Theodore Nott. With a quick glance around to make sure no one was watching, you unfolded the note.
Y/N, your beauty outshines even the brightest of potion ingredients. Meet me in the library after class?
A soft blush crept up your cheeks as you read the words. Theo had been sending you these notes for weeks now, each one more romantic than the last. You sneaked a glance at him, finding him already looking your way with a mischievous glint in his eyes. He smirked, clearly enjoying the effect his words had on you.
Pansy Parkinson, seated a few rows ahead, turned around and raised an eyebrow. "Another love note from Theo, Y/N?" she whispered loudly enough for several students to hear, causing a ripple of laughter to spread through the room.
Mattheo Riddle, sitting beside her, chuckled. "Merlin's beard, Theo, you're going to turn Y/N as red as a Gryffindor."
Lorenzo Berkshire, lounging lazily in his seat, grinned. "I'm surprised Professor Snape hasn't noticed all these notes flying around. Or maybe he has and just enjoys the entertainment."
Blaise Zabini, always composed, smirked from his seat next to Theo. "Our dear Theo does have a way with words, doesn't he?"
Draco Malfoy, leaning back with his characteristic smirk, added, "Careful, Y/N, or you'll start getting howlers from his fan club."
You rolled your eyes, trying to suppress a smile as the teasing continued. Theo, however, seemed unfazed. He leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand, and watched you with an amused expression. "Let them tease, Y/N. They’re just jealous they don’t have someone as wonderful as you."
The blush deepened, and you bit your lip to hide your smile. Despite the teasing, you couldn’t deny the fluttering feeling in your chest every time you received one of Theo's notes. It was like a secret game between the two of you, a stolen moment in the chaos of Hogwarts life.
As the class ended and students began to pack up their belongings, you felt a gentle tug on your sleeve. Turning, you found Theo standing there, his eyes warm and inviting. "Shall we?" he asked, offering his arm.
With a nod, you slipped your hand into his, ignoring the wolf whistles and laughter from your friends. Together, you made your way to the library, where the shadows of the ancient bookshelves provided a perfect hiding spot for young love.
In the quiet corner of the library, Theo pulled you close, his eyes searching yours. "I meant every word, Y/N," he whispered, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "You make even the darkest dungeon feel like home."
Your heart swelled at his words, and you couldn’t help but smile. "And you make every note worth blushing over, Theo."
With a soft laugh, he leaned in and kissed you gently, sealing his promise with the sweet taste of young love. And in that moment, surrounded by the whispers of ancient magic and the teasing of friends, you knew that Theodore Nott was the one who made your heart sing.
As the weeks passed, Theo's love notes became an anticipated part of your daily routine. Each one was carefully crafted, a blend of poetry and genuine affection that made your heart race. Even amidst the relentless teasing from your friends, you couldn't help but look forward to the next note, the next glimpse into Theo's heart.
Love Note #1
Y/N,
Your smile is like a potion, intoxicating and sweet. Every time you laugh, it’s as if the sun has risen in the dungeons. Meet me by the Black Lake after dinner?
Yours, Theo
You glanced up from the note to find Theo watching you from across the Potions classroom. He gave you a small, almost imperceptible nod, and you couldn't help but blush as you imagined the quiet, secluded spot by the lake where the two of you could talk uninterrupted.
Love Note #2
Y/N,
The way your eyes light up when you talk about your favorite book is enchanting. I'd love to hear more. Shall we meet in the Astronomy Tower tonight?
With all my heart, Theo
The Astronomy Tower was a favorite spot of yours, a place where you could see the stars and feel like you were a part of something bigger. Theo knew this, and his suggestion filled you with a warm, comforting feeling. You looked forward to the serene evening that awaited.
Love Note #3
Y/N,
Every time I see you, it’s like my own personal Felix Felicis. I feel incredibly lucky to have you in my life. Can we take a walk in the Forbidden Forest this weekend?
Forever yours, Theo
The Forbidden Forest was mysterious and full of hidden secrets, much like Theo himself. The idea of exploring it with him was thrilling. You could already picture the two of you walking among the ancient trees, finding solace in each other's company.
Love Note #4
Y/N,
Your presence is a Patronus in my darkest times, chasing away all my fears. Would you join me for a late-night snack in the kitchens tonight?
Always, Theo
You chuckled at the thought of sneaking into the kitchens with Theo. The house-elves were always kind and eager to help, and the prospect of sharing a secret feast with Theo was too tempting to resist.
Love Note #5
Y/N,
Like the rarest of magical creatures, you are a wonder to behold. Your kindness and intelligence are unmatched. Let’s study together in the Room of Requirement tomorrow?
Yours eternally, Theo
The Room of Requirement, a place that adapted to your needs, was perfect for a quiet, intimate study session. You knew that with Theo by your side, even studying could become a cherished memory.
The constant flow of notes did not go unnoticed by your friends. They found endless amusement in your budding romance.
"Another one, Y/N?" Pansy asked, pretending to swoon. "Theo, you’re going to make the rest of us look bad!"
Mattheo smirked. "Yeah, seriously, Nott. How are we supposed to compete with that level of romance?"
Lorenzo grinned, nudging Draco. "We should take notes, Malfoy. Maybe then we’d have a chance."
Draco rolled his eyes but couldn't hide his smile. "Just wait until his fan club hears about this. They'll be devastated."
Despite the teasing, there was an underlying current of support and happiness for you both. Even Blaise, who was usually more reserved, gave you a knowing smile. "Looks like Theo's found his muse," he said quietly.
One evening, as you sat by the Black Lake with Theo, the gentle sound of water lapping at the shore, you turned to him and said, "You know, Theo, your notes mean the world to me."
He smiled, his eyes soft with affection. "I’m glad, Y/N. You mean the world to me."
And as the sun set over Hogwarts, casting a golden glow over the two of you, you realized that these moments, these notes, were just the beginning of a beautiful love story.
#slytherin x reader#theo nott x reader#theodore nott#theodore nott x reader#theodore nott imagine#theodore nott x you#drabble#slytherin boys#fluff#one shot#draco malfoy#mattheo riddle#lorenzo berkshire#pansy parkinson
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FUCK ME HANDSOME | back
staring: kai x male reader
summary: Mn stumbles upon into an unfamiliar bar not knowing what to expect but ends up getting his ass pounded in the bathroom by a sexy man
nsfw
a/n: so we have all seen Kai’s recent pics with chanyeol and suho and man he looks so big that I had an erection
The neon lights of the city cast an erotic glow over the dimly lit alleyway as Mn, his eyes heavy-lidded with lust, stumbled towards the pulsing beat emanating from within the club's walls. He had been drinking all evening, his inhibitions slowly melting away with each shot of whiskey downed at the bar. Tonight, he craved something more than just another meaningless hookup—tonight, he wanted to lose himself completely.
As he pushed open the heavy door, a wave of thumping bass and the scent of sweat and desire washed over him, immediately drawing him deeper into the heart of the establishment. The dance floor was a sea of writhing bodies, slick with perspiration, their movements a sensual display of primal need.
Amidst the chaos, Mn's gaze locked onto a striking figure standing near the bar—tall, lean, with chiseled features that seemed carved from marble. His dark hair fell in disheveled waves across his forehead, contrasting starkly against the pale skin of his throat, which glistened with a sheen of moisture. Those piercing emerald eyes, however, were what truly captured Mn's attention, burning with an intensity that sent shivers down his spine.
Intrigued, Mn made his way through the crowd, his steps growing more confident with each passing moment. As he drew closer, he noticed the man's lips, full and inviting, curled into a subtle smirk, as if he too sensed the magnetic pull between them. Without breaking eye contact, Mn leaned in close, his breath hot against the stranger's ear as he whispered, "Hey there, handsome." The words hung in the air for a moment before the man turned, his emerald gaze meeting Mn's with a spark of recognition and undeniable attraction.
"I'm Mn," he offered, extending a hand in greeting. The stranger accepted it, his touch electrifying as they shook hands.
"Kai," he replied, his deep voice sending a thrill through Mn's body. There was something undeniably captivating about this mysterious individual, a raw sensuality that left Mn breathless and wanting more.
Without another word, Kai reached out, his fingers trailing along Mn's jawline before cupping his cheek. Mn's pulse quickened under Kai's gentle touch, his mind clouding with desire as he leaned into the intimate gesture. In that instant, the world around them melted away, leaving only the two of them, lost in a whirlpool of lust and unspoken promises.
Kai's eyes never left Mn's as he guided him toward the back of the club, past the pulsating speakers and writhing dancers. They navigated through a maze of dark corridors until finally, they found themselves in a secluded room, dimly lit by a single flickering bulb.
With a low growl, Kai pressed Mn against the wall, his hard body pinning him in place as their mouths crashed together in a frenzy of tongues and teeth. Mn moaned into the kiss, his hands roaming over Kai's muscular frame, exploring every contour and ridge with a sense of reverence.
Mn's fingers tangled in Kai's dark locks as he deepened the kiss, swallowing the man's groans of pleasure. Kai's hands roamed lower, grasping at Mn's hips and tugging him harder against the wall. The rough fabric of Kai's shirt rubbed against Mn's sensitive nipples, sending jolts of electricity straight to his throbbing cock.
Breaking the kiss, Kai trailed his lips down Mn's neck, nipping and sucking at the tender flesh. Mn arched his head back, offering more access as he gasped for air. "Fuck, you taste so good," Kai murmured against Mn's skin, his hot breath igniting a fire within him.
Desperation took hold as Mn fumbled with the buttons of Kai's shirt, desperate to feel those chiseled muscles beneath his fingertips.
With a swift tug, Mn ripped open Kai's shirt, revealing a torso that could have been sculpted by the gods. His eyes widened at the sight, drinking in the expanse of smooth, tanned skin and the trail of dark hair leading down to Kai's waistband. Kai chuckled low in his throat, a sound that vibrated through Mn's entire being.
"You like what you see?" Kai asked, his voice dripping with arrogance and sexuality. Mn nodded mutely, unable to form coherent words as he reached out to trace the lines of Kai's abs with trembling fingers.
Kai captured Mn's wrist, guiding his hand lower until his palm rested against the prominent bulge straining against his jeans.
Mn whimpered, his knees buckling slightly as Kai's thick cock prodded insistently at his entrance. With a swift thrust, Kai buried himself to the hilt inside Mn, filling him completely. Mn cried out, his voice echoing off the walls as he struggled to adjust to the overwhelming sensation of being stretched and claimed so thoroughly.
Kai set a brutal pace, pounding into Mn with relentless force. Each powerful stroke sent shockwaves of pleasure rippling through Mn's core, his vision blurring at the edges as he teetered on the brink of ecstasy. "Harder!" Mn begged, his nails digging into the wall as he pushed back against Kai's thrusts.
Kai obliged, his grip on Mn's hips tightening as he drove into him with savage abandon.
Mn's world narrowed to the feeling of Kai's cock splitting him open, each merciless plunge sending him careening toward the edge of oblivion. His balls tightened, a familiar pressure building at the base of his spine as his orgasm approached with lightning speed.
"Fuck, I'm gonna cum!" Mn gasped, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. Kai's response was a guttural growl, his rhythm faltering for a split second before he slammed into Mn with renewed vigor.
That final thrust which Mn needed, his climax crashing over him like a wave. He screamed Kai's name, his body convulsing as spurt after spurt of hot cum painted the wall beside him. Through it all, Kai continued to move within him, chasing his own release with single-minded determination.
With a final, brutal thrust, Kai buried himself deep inside Mn's channel and let out a roar of completion. Wave after wave of scorching seed flooded Mn's insides, marking him irrevocably as Kai's. Mn collapsed against the wall, his legs giving out from the sheer force of his orgasm.
For several long moments, they remained entwined, panting heavily as they slowly came back to reality. Finally, Kai withdrew, his softening cock slipping free of Mn's well-fucked hole with a wet squelch. Mn whimpered at the loss, already missing the delicious fullness Kai had provided.
Kai turned Mn to face him, his emerald eyes gleaming with satisfaction as he traced a finger along Mn's flushed cheek. "You were incredible."
Kai's praise sent a warm glow through Mn's chest, his heart swelling with pride and affection. He leaned into Kai's touch, craving more of the tender attention. "You weren't so bad yourself," Mn teased, a lazy grin spreading across his face.
As they caught their breath, Mn's thoughts began to drift toward the future, imagining all the ways he could indulge in Kai's company again and again. The possibilities were endless, limited only by their creativity and desire.
Kai seemed to read Mn's mind, a mischievous glint sparkling in his eyes. "We're just getting started, sweetheart," he purred, his voice low and promising. "I plan to keep you very busy indeed."
©️ flowerbunnyboo 2024. all rights reserved to me. please don't copy my work or reshare without my permission and credit
#bottom male reader#male reader#flowers fics#male x male#x male reader#kpop x male reader#bottom male reader smut#Exo#Exo smut#exo x male reader#Exo x Male reader smut#Exo kai#Kim jongin#jongin x Male reader#jongin smut#kai smut#kai x Male reader smut#kai x male reader
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toxicex!matt knows exactly how to get under your skin.
you feel sick, your stomach churning in tight knots while your throat constricts painfully as you peer over the rim of your cup, your gaze fixed on matt, watching through glassy eyes as he flirts with the fourth girl of the night.
his hands linger on their waists, occasionally slipping down to grope their ass. lipstick marks stain his jaw and neck, and he leans in to whisper sweet little things to them — all while staring you down with that smirk on his lips.
you hate the smug look on his face, and you hate the way you're still feeling this way nearly a month after the breakup. you constantly remind yourself that he's not yours anymore, that the jealousy and hurt swirling inside you are unwarranted.
yet, it's nearly impossible to believe those words when matt always seems to find his way back; back into your bed. his body pressed against yours, his breath hot in your ear as he murmurs how much he wants you and how much you need him.
but, inevitably, you're left feeling like the fool when it's all over; after he slips away and leaves you alone in your bed, hollow and aching, tears swimming in your eyes as you wonder which girl he'll be flirting with the next time you see him, always replaying the scene in your mind like a haunting loop.
matt shouldn't matter to you anymore; he should have been faded from your thoughts and life the moment you ended things.
but it's not that simple—nothing in your life ever seems to be.
your attention is momentarily pulled away when your friend approaches, gently gripping your elbow and leaning in to shout in your ear over the thumping bass that vibrates through the club. her words are a blur, drowned out by the pulsating music and the chaos around you as your gaze drifts back to matt.
you can hardly focus on anything but him; his hand glides up to the girl's face, fingers stroking her cheek in a way that feels all too familiar— a gesture that once belonged to you. a wave of nausea hits you again as you watch him lean in, his lips brushing against her own, all while his eyes still remain completely locked on you.
you can't take it anymore, you really can't.
the weight of your emotions crashes down, and your bottom lip quivers uncontrollably as tears threaten to spill over, and in a whirlwind of desperation, you jerk away from your friend's grasp, rushing toward the exit.
your cup slips from your fingers, the plastic clattering on the floor and liquid spilling, but you don't stop to see it.
you barely register your friend calling out your name, her voice lost in the crowd's noise as you shove through the sweaty bodies, stumbling over your own heels as you strain to escape the suffocating room.
the exit door swings open, and the biting cold air rushes in, filling your constricted lungs with oxygen.
leaning against the wall outside the club, your heart races, each beat echoing in your ears. the tears finally spill over, streaming down your cheeks uncontrollably as a choked sob escapes your lips, the sound raw and unfiltered.
you know you must look like a completely mess to the people lingering nearby, but their stares blur into the background — you're too caught up in your own agony to care about their judgement.
each bated breath you take feels heavy, and you stand there shivering in the cold, sniffling and sobbing as a storm of emotions swirl within you — grief, anger, and a deep sense of loss.
"oh, baby..." that all too familiar voice cuts through the haze of your mind, and your head snaps up, barely able to see through your teary vision as matt walks toward you slowly.
he must have noticed your disappearance and followed you, and despite everything, a strange warmth flickers in your chest at the thought that he might care just a little. but it's quickly overshadowed by the hurt.
you're still upset, still in agony from the sight of him with someone else, and as he closes in, you pathetically back against the wall, trapped, your heart racing.
with one hand, he grips your chin, tilting your face up to full meet his gaze, while the other taps your cheek in a way that feels condescending.
"get a hold of yourself, baby... i only want you, yeah? only you.." his smirk widens as he coos, his thumb brushing away the mascara smudging beneath your watery eyes. the gesture feels intimate, but you know it's just another manipulation tact, yet you can't help but slowly fall into it. "m'just bein' friendly, y'know... got a lot of female friends. can't just ignore 'em."
you want so desperately to believe him, to let his words wrap around you like a comforting blanket, but the reality is suffocating. the sweet scent of other girls' perfumes clings to him, and the lipstick marks smeared across his jaw are tugging painfully at your heart.
matt leans in closer, his breath warm against your skin, sending shivers down your spine as you feel the weight of his gaze, assessing you, searching for any hint of weakness. "c'mon, baby.. don't cry. y'know i can't handle seein' you cry. it hurts me."
"you hurt me," you whisper, fresh tears falling down your cheeks, and you can't look away from him. "you hurt me—you always hurt me."
his expression shifts, feigning regret as he murmurs. "m'so sorry, baby.. know i love you, only want you."
the words drip with insincerity, yet the curl around your heart like rope, pulling you closer, igniting a flicker of hope. he presses his lips to your cheeks, kissing away your tears, and you hate how your heart flutters at the familiarity of his touch, how it quiets the storm inside you.
as his mouth trails down your neck, each kiss awakens memories of warmth, and the corner of his lips twitches into a smirk. "always wan' you. my favourite girl."
you want to push him away, to remind him that you're broken up because of all the times he's shattered your heart, all the moments he's left you alone in tears, how his toxicity became unbearable. but there's an undeniable pull that you struggle to ignore, it makes it hard to resist.
"why do you do this to me?" you ask quietly, your voice trembling, torn between longing and defiance, desperation lacing your words.
he pulls back slightly to meet your eyes, stroking your cheek with his thumb as he murmurs, "'cos you let me, baby. you need me."
in that moment, the truth hits you like a cold wave, crashing over you brutally. it claws at your insides, a bitter reminder that you're caught up in a cycle of pain and passion. you feel lost, helpless, teetering on the edge of wanting to escape, yet you're overwhelmed by the urge to pull him into your arms and forget about everything that's gone wrong.
"tell me you need me," he murmurs, his voice low and seductive, his thumb gliding across your cheek to rest on your plush bottom lip. he pulls it down slightly, watching as it bounces back into place, a playful yet possessive gesture. "tell me, baby. c'mon."
you swallow hard, your resolve crumbling as you stare into his eyes. all the reasons screaming at you to walk away seem to fade beneath his gaze, and you find yourself on the brink of surrender.
"i... i need you," you whisper, the admission slipping past your lips before you can stop it.
matt's smirk widens, a glint in his eyes as he leans in closer, "see? s'all i wanted to hear... the truth."
he pulls you in, hands firm on your cheeks as he presses his lips to yours. in that instant, the world around you fades away and you allow yourself to melt into him, surrendering yourself to desperately forget about the hurt that lingers like a dark cloud over your heart.
his kiss is both intoxicating and heart-breaking, yet it feels so familiar—so right—and you can't help but get lost in his touch, even as the tears continue to stream down your cheeks.
you can taste the salt of your tears on his lips as he deepens the kiss, his hands sliding from your face to the small of your back, coaxing you in, pushing you against him.
the tension in your body starts to melt away, replaced by a dizzying rush of emotions that swirl within you; the longing, the desperation, and a flicker of hope that maybe this time will be different.
it won't be.
it never is.
divider credits. @issysh3ll
© STURNIOZ
#©sturnioz#matt sturniolo angst#sturniolo angst#matt sturniolo x reader#☆ toxicex!matt#★ ⋮ sturniolo hours !#★ ⋮ matt hours !
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fever // kita shinsuke
tw ⇢ mutual pining, semi public, massaging, hair pulling, clit play, hand job, pussy job, grinding, no penetration, slight nipple play
wc ⇢ 4.5k
Kita exhaled a measured breath, carefully resting the well-worn volleyball in the ball cart before turning to survey the gym. Practice had concluded for the evening, but the scuffed hardwood floor still radiated a residual warmth reflecting the team's exertions.
One by one, his teammates had trickled out - the athletic club's locker room clearing out in a steady flow of rowdy jokes and towels slung over damp shoulders. The usual nightly exodus that Kita monitored with an accustomed stillness. All except for one person still diligently working off to the side, seemingly oblivious that she'd been left behind.
You.
Kita's eyes instinctively traced the familiar lines of your form as you bent with silent concentration, meticulously rolling up the vinyl court mats with deft motions. The oversized shirttails of Inarizaki's uniform bunched and strained across your shoulderblades with each controlled movement - the vibrant hue only accentuating how your cheeks still glowed faintly flushed from exertion.
Something he couldn't help noticing with each practice as of late. Along with the slight fraying at your ponytail's nape from repeatedly running hands through sweat-dampened strands. Or the shadows deepening beneath your eyes - barely perceptible markers of how heavy your work schedule as team manager had become.
Kita felt an unwitting tightness grip his diaphragm as he watched you tending to the equipment sweep - the final thankless task before being able to escape the gymnasium yourself. He should have been relieved that you exemplified such steadfast dedication to your duties. The sort of disciplined work ethic he strove to emblematize.
Yet lately, an encroaching sense of unease had begun creeping in whenever glimpsing how utterly depleted you seemed. Like a brilliant ember slowly being smothered to ashen burnout despite containing so much vital spark left to share.
Perhaps it was painfully selfish, but Kita couldn't bear the thought of that smoldering spark winking out entirely. Not when it represented one of the sole warmths capable of unraveling his own desperation to always remain rigidly compartmentalized.
With you, he could simply exist - shed of airtight expectations and the crushing weight of obligations. If only for fleeting moments that never felt sufficient to absorb your radiant presence fully.
The subversive thought prompted Kita to impulsively close the distance between you with his trademark eerily-silent footfalls. You didn't register his approach until he folded his tall frame into an easy crouch mere inches away - deft fingers automatically reaching to assist tucking in the mat's final corner.
"K-Kita!" You startled, clearly not expecting him to materialize so abruptly at your side after everyone else had vacated. "You shouldn't have to help with this, I'm-"
"Nearly finished for the evening?" His deep, quietly resonant timbre cut you off - not unkindly. Liquid mercury eyes remained focused on aligning the mat's edge as his elegant hands smoothed and secured it into a tidy roll. "Don't worry, I've been observing how diligently you've attended everything lately."
You opened your mouth to protest or express gratitude - he couldn't be certain which based on the fleeting chaos of micro-expressions flickering across your features. Kita determinedly avoided focusing too intently on your lovely face directly.
The subtle smatterings of flushed exertion dusting your cheekbones and nose were...disarmingly appealing enough without adding to his distraction.
Instead, he pressed on before you could formulate a reply.
"I've been meaning to suggest you join me on a retreat soon." Kita kept his tone was neutral as he began coiling the roll of mat beneath one arm, motioning with his chin that you should take the opposite end. "There are some hot springs out in Yufu that would be perfect for recharging and immersive meditation this time of year."
Rising to his full stature, Kita finally leveled his gaze directly upon you - absorbing the momentary wash of surprise and something deeper, more ruminative flickering across your expression. That familiar spark of warmth rekindling from its embered banked state as your eyes searched his with unspoken consideration.
"Think it over," he prompted softly, imperceptibly leaning in fractionally closer yet still maintaining a disciplined distance. "I imagine a night or two of solitary contemplation could benefit us both greatly."
The effluence of Kita's breath mingled with yours in corporeal plumes as you absorbed his pointed invitation - searching for any hint of ulterior suggestion laced through the polished veneer of his subtle words and movements. As always, he emitted an aura of pristine neutrality and understatement that skirted any tinge of impropriety.
But after sharing so many sidelong gazes, measured silences, and paradoxically-charged stillnesses over years of proximity...you thought you detected the barest kindling of something molten and incandescently profound burning behind his veneer. Something solely meant for your interpretation alone.
Still, you found yourself unable to voice anything beyond a mute nod of acceptance. Allowing the hushed ambiance to lapse back over your dual departures from the gymnasium - bodies and breath intermittent, but bound by currents vastly deeper than physical colocation.
All while Kita hid a barely-perceptible smile, finally allowing vindicated hope to unfurl within his rigorously tempered heart.
You couldn't shake the lingering pull of Kita's words - or the undercurrent of unspoken yearning that seemed to accent his otherwise placid invitation.
An overnight retreat to remote hot springs for "solitary contemplation"? On the surface, it sounded like precisely the sort of austerely philosophical overture one would expect from someone as rigorously self-actualized as Kita Shinsuke. And yet...
You found your focus fracturing at inopportune moments, always drifting back towards dissecting the implications of that loaded pause before he extended the invite. Or the infinitesimal dilation of his liquid mercury eyes while pinning you under that steadily smoldering regard.
Was it projection conjuring phantoms from your own long-repressed desires regarding Kita? Or had you genuinely glimpsed a simmering spark of something heated flaring beneath his meticulously-honed control?
The uncharacteristic lack of certainty dogged your heels through the ensuing days. Early dawn meditation circle followed by corralling rambunctious teammates - then practice regimens, followed by tight laps of individual training all bled into a seamless panorama of duties. The steady, soothing routine only interrupted when Kita unexpectedly rematerialized during quiet pockets in the schedule.
He never overtly revisited the topic, yet his presence often carried the static charge of unfinished business hovering in the air between you. Until one evening following clean-up, you found Kita in one of the secluded ante-rooms clearly waiting for you.
"We haven't spoken much since I extended my invitation," he began without preamble, back to you while sorting equipment racks. "Have you given any thought to joining me in Yufu?"
You hesitated fractionally, still processing his abrupt resurgence of the topic. "I have...though I'm not certain an overnight retreat is advisable given our respective commitments here."
Kita hummed thoughtfully, finally slanting his chiseled profile towards you. "We could arrange coverage easily enough if we stagger our departure and return appropriately."
Pinned beneath his steadily considering gaze, you felt your breath stalling in your chest. As always, Kita projected a facade of crisp professionalism and equanimity. Yet there was an infinitesimal brightness glittering in those steely eyes boring into yours that seemed to make an unspoken entreaty all its own.
"Getting away from this environment - even briefy - can provide incomparable perspective," he continued in that baseline timbre of his roughened with quiet conviction. "Having you along as well would only serve to deepen the immersion and focus..."
Kita trailed off, expression slipping seamlessly back into that practiced vacancy masking depths you'd always longed to plumb. The muscle in his jaw ticked faintly as he averted his eyes - immediately busying his elegant hands with some inane reorganizing of janitorial supplies as if chastising himself for even broaching the subject so ardently.
"At any rate," he muttered, cotton towel whisking across metal handles with percussive strokes that sliced the thickening silence. "Consider it, if you're able to manage the time away from your regular responsibilities here."
The minute shift of his shoulders spoke volumes - Kita already attempting to insulate himself from whatever seedling longing had temporarily unfurled. You found yourself rooted in place, drinking in each precise movement and lilting cadence from your teammate as if reinscribing them all into muscle memory.
You quietly ached witnessing him wrestle his yearning back beneath that impeccable veneer of restraint. As if fearing you'd shy from the vulnerability of peering too unflinchingly into the blazing intensity you knew burned beneath his stillness.
Before Kita could retreat fully behind his customary distant stoicism, you jolted into decisive action.
"Let's go." The words tumbled out on a hushed yet insistent exhalation, stalling his movements entirely. "Even a solitary night or two away could provide useful perspective, as you said."
Molten mercury eyes flared towards you in naked astonishment before Kita regained his composure with a subtle dip of his chin. The slightest softening warmed his aristocratic features and you had to clench your palms against a sudden trembling.
"Very well," he replied, somehow managing to project equanimity despite his rattled stillness. "I'll handle the arrangements and preparations for us both. Perhaps you might contemplate the value of mindful solitude in the interim."
Then Kita slanted you a heavy-lidded look from beneath his lashes - one you felt scorching across every exposed inch of your rapidly overheating skin. There was no mistaking the lush promise and simmering intent blazing behind that stare before he refocused with visible effort.
"It may prove...deeply illuminating for the both of us," Kita murmured in a voice dropping into a register you felt viscerally ribboning up your spine.
You could only give a tremulous nod and fight for steady inhales as he brushed past you with a lingering brush of warm, mint-tinged air. Already feeling imperiled by the thought of "solitary contemplation" with Kita amongst such remotely intimate seclusion.
Not that you retained any willpower left to contemplate refusing. Denial was no longer an option once the spark between you had finally ignited into blazing reality.
The journey to Yufu passed in a reverent kind of silence, occasionally punctuated by Kita offering hushed commentary about the significance of hot spring bathing in Japanese culture. You absorbed the lulling timbre of his voice like a tonic - steadying your thrill-hazed thoughts from spiraling too recklessly.
Because despite maintaining impeccable discretion on its surface, this was unmistakably an intimate occasion. Just the two of you sequestered at an exclusive onsen ryokan tucked into the densely forested mountains. Primed to shed societal pretext entirely for anonymous oversight and ritual indulgence.
You attempted not to dwell overlong on how deliriously tempting the concept felt after so many years orbiting Kita's gravitational pull. Only to have that inexorable tide abruptly draw both your paths into shared seclusion.
Upon arrival, Kita ushered you to separate bathing pavilions with a pointed look and reassurance he would join you once you'd settled into your appointed suite. You moved through the ceremonial disrobings and ablutions in a daze - trying to center yourself in the austere surroundings and reminder of pursuing spiritual clarity.
Yet the rituals only conjured visceral recollections of sharing sidelong glances with Kita across steam-shrouded surfaces. Of his lithe, powerful form materializing from mineral-rich clouds with rivulets trailing down the corded arcs of his back.
You shuddered and submerged yourself fully in the blessedly scalding waters, desperate to purge such profane imagery before he returned to your company. Only emerging once confident your meditative breathing exercises had steadied your thrumming pulse into an outwardly composed state.
When Kita did rejoin you, swathed in the facility's uniform yukata robe, you felt your arousal flare with alarming intensity all over again.
He looked inexplicably, disarmingly beautiful like this. The intricate patterns of his robe accentuated the rugged slashes of his jawline and cheekbones - simultaneously expressing delicacy and intense masculinity with each meticulously unhurried motion. You froze, drinking in each weighted pause and steady sweep of his mercurial gaze taking you in as he settled onto the submerged bench facing you.
"These hot spring waters make me want to open up my thoughts to you," Kita's timbre sliced through the fragile quiet first - sotto yet arresting. "It seems like you have a lot on your mind too."
You swallowed hard, determined not to spiral into incoherence from the intimate double meaning you detected woven through his mild inquiry.
"Lately I've been wondering if my calm outer appearance truly reflects my inner ideals," you murmured, gaze locked onto the elegant flex of Kita's hands smoothing the embroidered lapels over his sternum. "Or if I've just become too closed off."
A flicker of silent understanding passed over Kita's inscrutable features as he absorbed your veiled confession. The water sloshed gently between you as he shifted infinitesimally closer - near enough for his crisply grounding cedar and green tea scent to wreath around you.
"Staying calm on the outside is meant to cultivate inner peace, not be an end goal itself," he replied with that deceptively mild directness you found so innately compelling. "Avoiding the truth out of propriety leads to stagnation, not enlightenment."
His eyes locked weightily onto yours in silent emphasis - a scintillating undercurrent seeming to suffuse the heated waters as your lungs labored for air under such singularly focused intensity.
"I've let some important truths go unspoken for too long," Kita continued in a cadence stripping away several layers of subtext until only rawly naked honesty remained. "Maintaining decorum at the expense of serenity has done me a disservice, and you as well."
You drank in each word, simultaneously intoxicated and floored by the profundity of Kita's confession unfolding with such poised grace. Somehow, he managed to transmute the insulated world of the ryokan's dimly lit bathing chamber into a microcosmic suspended orbit - just the two of you drifting closer and unfurling truths that illuminated fathomless new expanses.
Yet when he leveled his piercing, elemental focus directly onto you next - all pretenses and protective veneers abruptly fell away in his piercing intensity.
"I brought you out here for unforgivably selfish reasons," Kita stated quietly yet with smoldering, ruthless conviction laced through each syllable. "I wanted to be alone with you…to finally confess my true feelings for you without restraint or judgment, even if it crosses boundaries we've danced around."
The naked admission hung between you in a burgeoning swell of heated electricity. You struggled to accurately process the enormity of his pronouncement - much less render coherent response beyond widening eyes and a sharp inhalation.
Kita watched the maelstrom of shock, possibilty, and thoroughly naked yearning play out across your features with rapt absorption. Until finally, the last of his veneers fell away like cresting waves finally succumbing to the inevitability of the tide.
He pivoted from his seated position until planted solidly before you - steely eyes transfixed on drinking in every micro shift of emotion unspooling across your face. Then with maddening unhurried reverence, Kita extended a dripping hand to chart your jaw's contours.
The lightest graze of his fingertips seared your thundering pulse like a brand, dizzying your senses entirely. But Kita didn't relent in his sensual exploration - tracing the sloped curves and hollows of your neck and decolletage with a worshipful sort of absorption.
"I'm tired of denying how much I want to know every inch of you," he confessed in a gravelly rasp drowning in shameless, smoldering yearning. Lips brushed the hollow of your clavicle in a searing half-kiss as you shuddered helplessly. "I've spent too long not allowing myself to feel your body against me."
Callouses dragged along deliriously sensitive planes in his wake, kindling arousal into a molten, all-consuming blaze within the cradle of your increasingly trembling thighs. All pretense of restraint or detached contemplation had thoroughly dissolved - replaced by Kita's absolute immersion into mapping the intimate topography of your mottled blush spreading across exposed flesh.
Your body instinctively leaned into his exploratory touches, silently begging for more sustained contact in the wake of his hushed revelation. Even as your mind whirled, Kita proceeded with hushed focus and purpose - rendering you increasingly pliant putty under the spellbinding magic of his undivided attention.
When his mouth slanted across yours in a searing, openmouthed clash, it felt like the final surrender to unchecked truth. Years of repressed longing and carefully maintained discretion ignited into pure sensual freefall.
Kita groaned harshly, swallowing your ragged gasp as your arcs instinctively strained for impossible closeness. He pressed inexorably tighter - one palm slipping along the jut of your hipbone beneath the concealing waters in a consuming caress before gently turning your body around.
Kita's calloused hands glided over your slick skin, the heated water allowing his fingers to effortlessly explore the curves of your body. He started at your shoulders, firmly kneading the tense muscles there as you melted back against the bath's edge with a soft sigh.
"Relax," he murmured, the rumbling timbre of his voice surrounding you. "Let me take care of you."
You obliged, going pliant under his attentions. His strong hands worked methodically downward, thumbs digging deliciously into the knots of your upper back. Kita's motions were deliberate yet unhurried, as if committing every plane and dip of your flesh to memory through touch alone.
When he reached your lower back, you arched involuntarily, pushing your body more fully into his roaming palms. A soft sound escaped your parted lips at the change of angle, the new tension in your muscles screaming for his expert pressure.
Kita leaned in closer until his broad chest brushed your back, the heat of his skin raising goosebumps along your arms. His deft fingers danced lower, kneading the swell of your hips, the crease of your thighs. Each touch ignited sparks that rapidly stoked into a burning need for more contact, more friction.
"Does that feel good?" Kita's raspy murmur fanned across the nape of your neck, making you shiver. You could only nod, rendered incoherent by the arousal slowly engulfing you.
One hand dipped between your thighs, parting them gently. Your breath hitched as he traced the length of your folds with a single fingertip, drawing an achingly slow line up to your clit. The slightest graze had you keening, hips canting toward his touch.
"I've wanted to touch you for so long," Kita confessed, his other hand sliding up to cup your breast. The rough pad of his thumb rubbed against the stiff peak, eliciting a soft cry from you. "Every time I saw you working so hard, I imagined how I'd take care of you."
"Shin..." You couldn't summon any words beyond his name, the sensations overwhelming your ability to form coherent thoughts. His finger pressed down against your swollen clit, drawing tight circles that had you panting and squirming against him.
Kita's breath ghosted across your throat, the warmth and tickle adding another layer of sensation to the fire he'd started. Your head lolled against his shoulder, exposing the delicate expanse of your neck to him.
He took full advantage, nipping and sucking at the flushed skin until a constellation of red marks bloomed in his wake. You could feel the heat radiating from him, his cock straining against the small of your back, the tension in his muscles signaling his own barely-contained lust.
But Kita remained focused on you, his hand working between your thighs in steady motions. He seemed to read the slightest cues of your body, adjusting the speed and pressure of his strokes until he'd reduced you to a quivering mess.
Every nerve ending felt electrified, pleasure building at the base of your spine, spreading throughout your entire body. You ground shamelessly against his palm, desperate for release. Kita's fingers slid easily along your soaked slit, the friction exactly what you needed to tip you over the edge.
A shudder wracked your frame, legs clamping around his hand as you came with a wordless cry. Pleasure crashed through you, white-hot and all-consuming. Distantly, you heard Kita groan, felt the hardness of his cock twitching against you, but it all seemed secondary to the overwhelming euphoria gripping you.
Finally, the aftershocks subsided, leaving you feeling sated and boneless. Kita's touch lingered, teasing lightly along your overly-sensitive flesh, his mouth trailing tender kisses along the slope of your neck.
You slumped further against his chest, breathing heavily. After a moment, Kita pulled his hand away, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you flush against him. You could feel his erection digging into your back, but he made no move to relieve himself, instead simply holding you close.
The realization that he'd brought you out here specifically to pleasure you sent a rush of affection coursing through you. You twisted around until you were facing him, taking in his flushed cheeks and dilated pupils.
"Thank you," you whispered, leaning in to capture his lips in a kiss. He tasted faintly sweet, the mineral tang of the hot springs still lingering. Kita met your movements eagerly, his hands skimming up and down your back.
You let the kiss linger, losing yourself in the slide of his mouth against yours. His touch was unhurried, almost lazy, like he had all the time in the world to explore your lips, your tongue, the sensitive underside of your jaw.
A quiet whimper escaped you as his fingers brushed the underside of your breasts. Your own hands wandered over the broad expanse of his chest, tracing the firm contours of his pectorals and abdomen. The way his muscles tensed and flexed beneath your fingertips was addictive, and you found yourself wanting to touch every inch of his sculpted body.
Finally, you broke the kiss, pulling back just enough to look him in the eye. His irises were nearly swallowed by his pupils, dark with lust.
You felt a renewed stirring of arousal at the thought of bringing him pleasure, of watching him fall apart beneath you.
"I want to touch you," you breathed, letting your fingers drift lower, ghosting across the defined lines of his pelvic bone. Kita's gaze burned into yours, his breathing coming heavier.
"You don't have to," he murmured, even as his cock twitched at the prospect. You grinned, palming the thick length of him, relishing his sharp intake of breath.
"But I want to," you replied, squeezing his shaft lightly. His eyes fluttered closed for a moment, jaw clenched as he fought to regain control. The sight of him losing his composure, of knowing that you were the cause, sent a rush of power surging through you.
Kita opened his mouth, no doubt to argue, but you cut him off with another squeeze. He bit his lip, hips bucking into your touch. You grinned, running your thumb over the sensitive head of his cock.
"Lie back," you ordered, and he obeyed, sinking onto the stone ledge at the edge of the bath. You shifted positions, straddling his legs and bracing yourself against his muscular thighs.
His eyes locked onto yours as you began stroking his length, slow and firm. He groaned, eyelids fluttering, a faint blush spreading across his high cheekbones. The sight of him laid out before you, completely vulnerable, sent another pulse of arousal through you.
You kept the rhythm steady, gauging his reactions and adjusting accordingly. Every twitch, every soft moan, had you aching for more. But you wanted to draw this out, to savor the moment.
His head dropped back against the stone, eyes closing as his hips began to rock into your motions. His breaths came in ragged pants, muscles tensing and releasing. You could tell he was getting close, could feel his cock swelling in your hand.
Suddenly, his eyes snapped open, and his hands grasped your wrists, stilling your movements.
"Wait," he gasped, chest heaving. You paused, watching his expression intently. After a moment, he loosened his grip, guiding your hands off him and settling them on his stomach instead.
"Not like this," he murmured, sitting up and shifting you onto his lap, your thighs splayed wide around his hips. His cock pressed against your inner thigh, and you ached to sink onto him, to feel him fill you completely.
But he simply held you, gazing at you with an expression of awe and adoration. The intensity of his stare, the reverence in his touch, was intoxicating. Your breath hitched, and you leaned forward, capturing his lips in a passionate kiss.
Kita wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against him. His lips parted, allowing your tongue to slip inside and deepen the kiss. You moaned, rocking your hips against him, reveling in the friction.
You felt his hands slide down to your ass, pulling you more firmly against him. He guided the movement, thrusting against you, his cock sliding along your soaked folds. Each pass sent a shockwave of pleasure through you, and you found yourself clinging to him, grinding down on his shaft.
He buried his face in your neck, breath hot against your skin. You tangled your fingers in his hair, tugging lightly. His grip on your hips tightened, and you felt his cock twitch.
"Do that again," he groaned, voice muffled by your neck. You obliged, yanking his head back and exposing the column of his throat. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, and you couldn't resist dragging your tongue along his pulse point.
His hips jerked, and he let out a guttural moan, low and deep. The sound went straight to your core, and you found yourself grinding harder, chasing your release. Kita's breathing was ragged, his cock throbbing between your legs.
You could tell he was close, could feel him teetering on the edge. His fingers dug into your hips, holding you steady as he thrust against you. You raked your nails down his back, earning a sharp gasp from him.
The tension coiling within you was unbearable, and you knew it wouldn't take much more to send you over the edge. As if sensing this, Kita's fingers found your nipples, pinching hard. You cried out, arching into him, your orgasm ripping through you.
Kita followed shortly after, his cock pulsing as he came with a hoarse cry. His grip on you loosened, his movements slowing. He panted, pressing his forehead to yours. You cupped his cheek, running your thumb along his cheekbone.
You felt utterly boneless, spent. But there was a warmth spreading through you, a sense of contentment that was unlike anything you'd ever experienced before. Kita looked utterly blissed out, his eyes half-lidded, his expression relaxed.
You brushed a lock of damp hair off his forehead, admiring his profile. He cracked one eye open, gazing at you with affection.
"Are you ready for bed?" he asked softly, his thumb rubbing circles on your hip. You nodded, and he smiled, placing a chaste kiss on your lips before lifting you off his lap and standing.
You let him lead you from the baths, exhaustion beginning to creep in. As he helped you dress, you wondered if the night was truly over. The thought of falling asleep next to him was strangely comforting.
You climbed into bed, watching as he shed his robe and settled beside you. The warmth of his body was soothing, and you nestled closer, draping an arm across his waist. He sighed, pulling you against him.
You lay like that for some time, just listening to the sound of his breathing, feeling the rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek. Finally, sleep claimed you, and you drifted off into the deepest slumber you'd had in months.
#haikyuu smut#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x reader smut#kita x reader smut#kita shinsuke smut#kita shinsuke x reader smut#kita shinsuke x reader#kita x reader#kita smut#kita shinsuke
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rafe gets protective of kook!reader
masterlist | kook!reader masterlist
Y/n sat on the patio of Tanneyhill, the dull bass of the music vibrating through her bones. The yard was littered with a few drunken teenagers and young adults, but much less crowded than the inside. Hoping for a moment of reprise from the constant social overload, she found herself sitting outside on one of the sun loungers. Topper and Kelce were somewhere inside, probably getting drunk with whatever girls graced their presence. Rafe had been talking with somebody he knew from the country club when y/n told him she was going to step outside. He had offered to go with her, not liking her being alone in the chaos of a party, but she insisted he continue his apparently very interesting conversation about golf.
“Do you mind if I join you, princess?” Y/n looked up at JJ Maybank, a wide (likely drunken) grin on his face. She wasn’t surprised to see him here, he was a friend of Sarah’s after all. Sure, JJ wasn’t exactly her friend, but the two of them were acquaintances. She had bought weed from him numerous times (not that Rafe knew that) and had gotten to know him through spending time with Sarah or running into him at parties.
“Knock yourself out.” Y/n gestured to the lounger next to her. JJ stumbled forward, instead opting to sit on the foot of her own lounger. Y/n closed her eyes, rolling her shoulders, and trying her best to drown out the echoing music.
“So… where are your buddies?” JJ asked, gesturing with his red solo cup. Y/n sighed, a bit of annoyance creeping up on her before she quickly pushed it down, biting her tongue as she opened her eyes.
“Inside.” Y/n nodded, swirling her own cup mindlessly. JJ nodded, his fingers beginning to fiddle with the laces of y/n’s shoes. Y/n’s brows furrowed at the action but didn’t question it. Even though she didn’t know JJ that well, she knew he was a very fidgety-touchy guy… him and Rafe were very much alike in that sense.
“They left you out here?” JJ asked, looking up from y/n’s shoes, his hand still resting lightly on her ankle.
“No, no, no.” Y/n shook her head quickly. “I just needed a little break.”
“Ahhh,” JJ said, tapping his cup against his head, “and I’m bothering you during said break.”
Y/n shrugged, a small smile forming on her lips. At least he was self aware.
“Well, maybe I can make it up to you,” JJ reached behind his ear before dramatically presenting her a tightly rolled joint. Y/n felt her mood pick up, straightening in the lounger.
“Perhaps you can.” Y/n smiled, taking the joint from him and sticking it between her lips. JJ pulled a lighter from his back pocket, y/n stretching out her hand to take it. JJ tutted before leaning forward, his hand trailing up to rest on her knee.
“Allow me, princess.” JJ whispered, his face close enough that she could feel his warm breath on her cheeks. He lifted his hand, cupping the side of her face as he flicked the lighter. Y/n watched as he bit his lip in concentration, the precise blue of his eyes flickering with each spark of the lighter; a blue that seemed so similar to—
“What the fuck are you doing?” Y/n’s gaze shot up at Rafe’s voice, the joint nearly falling from her lips. JJ jumped at the sudden intrusion, catching himself just before rolling off the lounger, his body practically on top of y/n’s. Y/n pushed him to sit up instinctually, the joint still dangling between her lips.
“Oh, hey Rafe. Always a pleasure—” JJ scrambled, pushing his hair out of his face haphazardly. Rafe took a harsh step forward before yanking the joint out of y/n’s lips and tossing it into the nearby pool.
“Man, do you know how much that fucking cost—” JJ groaned before Rafe grabbed his shoulder, yanking him to his feet.
“Rafe, quit it!” Y/n quickly jumped up, trying her best to wedge herself between the two hotheads before the fists started to fly.
“I don’t give a fuck how much it cost, pogue,” Rafe spat, his grip still strong on the front of JJ’s shirt. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing touching her like that? Huh?”
“Well, she said it was perfectly fine.” JJ shrugged, a shiteating grin on his face as y/n stared daggers at him. Rafe took a seething step forward, his fists clenched.
“I’ll fucking kill you, you piece of shit—” Rafe roared.
“Oh here he is! Big, bad Rafe fuckin Cameron—” JJ shot back, closing in on Rafe, further sandwiching y/n between them.
“Both of you fucking stop!” Y/n shouted, pushing with all her strength and sending the two of them stumbling apart. Had either of them been sober, or god forbid high, she knew there would be no way in hell she’d have been able to stop the two of them once they started at eachother like this.
“Rafe, he wasn’t fucking doing anything. We were just talking and smoking. That’s it.” Y/n snapped, turning to Rafe with a point. Rafe’s jaw clenched, his gaze still darting between y/n and JJ.
“See, Cameron, I told you—” JJ started before y/n turned to face him, her eyes ablaze.
“JJ, I don’t need you encouraging him and I definitely don’t need you fucking helping me.” Y/n said pointedly, JJ’s eyes widening by her intensity. The three of them stood in a shocked silence, y/n putting her hands on her hips.
“I’m sorry, JJ, but I think you should go.” Y/n sighed. JJ scoffed, shaking his head as he picked up his drink.
“Sure thing, princess.” JJ said with a small salute. “I had a good time tonight. We should do it again.”
“You motherfu—” Rafe seethed, moving towards JJ until y/n pushed him back once more.
“Get out of here, JJ. Now.” Y/n said, her tone serious as she held onto a fistful of Rafe’s shirt. With a roll of his eyes, JJ finally walked away, leaving just the two of them on the patio. Y/n let go of Rafe, wiping her hands on her shorts as she shook her head.
“So you’re just taking weed from anyone now, huh?” Rafe said, lowering himself to meet y/n’s eyes. Y/n scoffed, turning to sink back into her lounger with a sip of her drink.
“Do you have any idea how fucking dangerous that is? Who knows what kind of shit that pogue put in there? Huh? W- what if he fuckin drugged you?” Rafe followed her, sitting on the foot of the lounger.
“I saw what he was doing,” Rafe scoffed. “Touching you like that, trying to get you high out here by yourself so he could take advantage of you—-”
“Jesus, Rafe!” Y/n shouted, throwing her hands up exasperatedly. “We were just fucking talking! Not every guy is trying to ‘take advantage’ of me! Do you hear yourself right now?”
“He’s a fucking pogue, y/n. I think I sound perfectly rational.” Rafe said shortly, causing y/n to roll her eyes.
“Why do you always do this shit?” Y/n snapped. “Everytime a guy so much as looks at me, you freak the fuck out and make a huge scene.”
Rafe scoffed, laughing to himself as he shook his head.
“Yes, you do, Cameron.” Y/n pointed a finger against Rafe’s chest. “You know I’m right.”
“Sorry that I fuckin care about you, a’ight? Me. Fuckin me. I care about you.” Rafe snapped, grabbing her hand and pushing it further against his chest. Y/n eyes refused to leave his, her gaze firm.
“It’s not fair, Rafe, and you know it.” Y/n’s said, her voice barely a whisper. She could see Rafe’s body soften slightly, his grip allowing their hands to fall into his lap.
“I– I…” Rafe stuttered, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he ran a hand through his hair. Y/n swallowed harshly, Rafe’s hand still firm in her own as he searched for the words.
“Look, I’m sorry, I just…” Rafe sighed, “when I see them… looking at you like that it just does something to me and I can’t fucking stop it. I wish I could just let it go and pretend that it doesn’t bother me but… it does.”
Y/n felt her stomach drop, the weight of Rafe’s words heavy in the air.
“Y/n, I care about you a lot… maybe even more than a friend should and I can’t lie and say it doesn’t hurt to see you with someone else like...” Rafe said quietly, his eyes locked on their entwined hands in his lap.
“Like what, Rafe?” Y/n whispered, Rafe finally lifting his gaze to meet her own.
“Like the way I want to be with you. The way I’ve always wanted to be with you.” Rafe said lowly, the words lifting the weight of years and years of hiding off his shoulders.
“Rafe…” Y/n started, but was cut off as Rafe shook his head harshly.
“No, you don’t… you don’t have to say anything.” Rafe sighed, rubbing a hand along the curve of his jaw.
“But I want to, Rafe.” Y/n whispered, squeezing Rafe’s hand gently, her thumb trailing along his knuckles lightly.
“I… I hate seeing you with anyone like that too, Rafe.” Y/n swallowed harshly. “Everytime I had to just… stand there and act like I didn’t care I was dying inside.”
Rafe’s face softened, his hand moving to cup her jaw. Y/n felt her heart skip a beat as she gazed deeply into the deep, stormy blue of his eyes. He was so close she could feel the warmth radiating off his skin and smell the soft smokiness of his cologne.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Rafe whispered, his lips only centimeters away from her own.
“I didn’t want you to think I was just a stupid girl who had fallen for her best friend.” Y/n said. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I didn’t want you to think I was just a stupid boy who had fallen for his best friend.” Rafe said, his lips ghosting her own.
“Well I guess that just makes us two idiots.” Y/n whispered as their lips finally met in an explosive culmination of years and years of longing.
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PLAYING WITH FIRE
Rafe Cameron x Reader
Summary: Being Rafe’s girlfriend wasn’t exactly on your ‘to-do list,’ but when it happened, you didn’t dare to complain. Now, he knows your love language, and he’s using it to drive you crazy in all the right ways.
Warnings: Mild sexual tension (if you could call it that), Readers love language is physical touch, Young adult theme, Peer teasing, Flirting, Kissing. Mention of Sarah and topper being a couple….
Word count: 1.42k words
Authors note: I kinda woke up and thought of how my love language is physical touch and I wanted to make this cute fluff for yall…hope yall like it!!! Lemme know if yall like it pls🥹🥹
Rafe Cameron and y/n were always a part of the same crowd, growing up in Figure Eight’s elite world of yacht parties, bonfires, and high-end privilege. Rafe, with his brash confidence and magnetic charm, had always been on her radar, though more as the guy who thrived on pushing her buttons than anything else. Their banter was infamous within their group, he’d tease, she’d throw sharp comebacks, and their friends would roll their eyes at the obvious tension.
It wasn’t until a party at the club a few weeks ago that things changed. Amid the chaos of drunken laughs and loud music, Rafe kissed her. It wasn’t sweet or hesitant, it was demanding, a declaration more than anything else. It took Y/N by surprise, but it also felt right. From that moment, they were together, though the shift from sparring partners to a couple was still something she was adjusting to. Rafe, on the other hand, seemed to take to the relationship naturally, slipping into the role of boyfriend as if he’d been waiting for it.
Tonight was one of their usual bonfire gatherings with their tight-knit group: Sarah and Topper, Kelce and his girlfriend, and now Rafe and Y/N. The dynamic was comfortable yet charged, especially with Rafe’s knack for teasing her in ways only she would notice. He knew her love language was physical touch, and he wielded that knowledge like a weapon, subtly pushing her limits just to see her reactions.
——
The beach was alive with laughter and the rhythmic crashing of waves, the warm glow of the bonfire casting flickering shadows on the sand. A cooler of drinks sat open— away from the fire, and the scent of roasted marshmallows mingled with the salty sea air. The group had claimed their usual spot near the shore not too close to the water, their blankets spread out in a semicircle around the fire.
Y/N sat in front of Rafe, her back pressed lightly against his chest, her legs tucked comfortably in front of her. His legs framed hers, his body a solid, warm presence behind her. It was a cozy setup, but one that made her hyperaware of him, his closeness, his touch, his breath against her hair.
Everyone was relaxed, chatting and laughing as they passed around snacks. Sarah was curled up in front of Topper, her head resting on his shoulder while he absentmindedly twirled a strand of her hair. Kelce was sprawled out on a blanket with his girlfriend, gesturing animatedly as he told some exaggerated story about their last surf session.
Y/N tried to focus on the conversation, but Rafe had other ideas. His hand, resting casually on her hip, flexed slightly, his fingers pressing just enough to make her shift. It wasn’t an obvious move, no one else would notice, but it sent a jolt through her, her pulse quickening.
“You good?” Rafe murmured, his voice low and teasing, just loud enough for her to hear.
She tilted her head slightly, giving him a look over her shoulder. “Perfectly fine.”
His lips quirked into a smirk, the kind that made her stomach flip. “Sure you are,” he muttered, his tone dripping with amusement.
——
Rafe could tell he was driving her crazy, and he loved it.
She was trying so hard to keep her composure, to stay focused on the conversation happening around them, but Rafe knew better. He knew the way her body tensed slightly every time he moved, the way her breath hitched when his fingers brushed against her skin. It was subtle, but to him, it was obvious.
He leaned forward slightly, his chin brushing against her shoulder as he reached for the bag of chips in front of them. His hand grazed hers in the process, and he saw her stiffen just for a moment before relaxing again.
“You want some?” he asked, holding the bag out to her.
She turned her head slightly, giving him a look that was equal parts annoyed and flustered. “No, thanks.”
Rafe smirked, pulling a chip out of the bag and popping it into his mouth. He leaned back again, his arm draping lazily across her waist as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
——
Rafe was impossible.
She could feel his hand on her waist, his fingers brushing against the hem of her tank top in a way that was almost casual but definitely deliberate. It wasn’t fair how effortlessly he got under her skin, how easily he made her hyperaware of every point of contact between them.
“Rafe,” she muttered under her breath, her tone laced with warning.
“Hmm?” His voice was light, innocent, as if he had no idea what he was doing.
She turned her head slightly to glare at him, but the look in his eyes made her pause. He was watching her with a mixture of amusement and something else, something that made her heart race.
“You’re ridiculous,” she said, her voice low enough that only he could hear.
He grinned, leaning in closer so his lips were near her ear. “You love it,” he murmured.
She hated how right he was.
——
The night wore on, the group’s laughter and chatter mingling with the sound of the waves. Y/N had long since given up trying to ignore Rafe’s antics, though she’d never admit how much she enjoyed them. His touches grew bolder as the night went on, a hand on her thigh, his fingers tracing idle patterns against her skin, his lips brushing her temple when he leaned in to whisper something.
It wasn’t just about teasing, though. There was a tenderness to his touches, a quiet reassurance that he was there, that she was his. And despite her initial resistance, Y/N found herself leaning into him more and more as the night went on.
By the time the night sky was even more darker than it previously was, she was fully settled against him, her head resting on his shoulder as his arms wrapped around her waist. The others were still talking, but their voices felt like background noise, the rest of the world fading away as she focused on the steady rhythm of Rafe’s breathing.
“You good?” he asked again, his voice softer this time, as he tilted his head slightly to rest his chin against her temple.
She nodded, her eyes closed as she relaxed against him. “Yeah. I’m good.”
And for once, she wasn’t just saying it. She meant it.
Rafe’s arms remained draped loosely around her waist, his fingers idly tracing patterns against her hip. She couldn't focus on what anyone else was saying. Not when every casual brush of his hand sent little sparks of electricity through her, grounding her in the moment but making her heart race all the same.
She tilted her head slightly to glance up at him. His sharp profile was illuminated by the glow of the fire, his messy blond hair falling into his eyes as he laughed softly at something Kelce said. The sight made her chest tighten in a way she wasn't used to.
Rafe must have felt her gaze, because he looked down, catching her eyes. His smirk softened into something more tender, he gave her a soft smile.
"What?" he asked, his voice low and teasing, but his eyes held something deeper.
"Nothing," she murmured, a small smile tugging at her lips.
His brows raised slightly, unconvinced.
"Doesn't look like nothing."
he reached up, his hand brushing against her cheek as he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. The gesture was unhurried, almost absentminded, but it sent a warmth spreading through her chest.
Her breath caught as his hand lingered, his thumb grazing her jawline. He leaned in slowly, his eyes flicking to her lips before meeting hers again.
"You're staring," he murmured, his tone teasing but laced with something softer as he smiled down at her.
"Maybe I like staring at you," she shot back, her voice quieter now. She couldn’t hold back the smile that only grew on her face.
That was all the invitation Rafe needed.
He tilted his head, his lips brushing softly against hers, the kiss deliberate but unhurried. It wasn't about showing off or proving anything; it was just them, lost in a quiet moment in the middle of everything.
Her hands instinctively reached up, gripping the fabric of his shirt as she kissed him back. She could feel his smile against her lips, the way his hand slid back to cradle the nape of her neck, grounding her as much as she grounded him.
"Okay, seriously," Sarah's voice broke through the haze, pulling them back to reality. "Are you two going to come up for air, or should we move the bonfire to give you some privacy?"
Laughter erupted around them, and Y/N pulled back shifting slightly, her cheeks flushing as she buried her face in Rafe's shoulder. He only chuckled, his arm tightening around her waist and wrapping around her shoulders as he shot Sarah a smug grin.
"Jealous, sis?" he quipped, earning an eye roll from Sarah and another round of laughs from the group.
Y/N couldn't help but smile despite her embarrassment, leaning into Rafe's hold as his thumb stroked lazily against her side.
He leaned down again, his lips brushing against her ear as he murmured, "They can tease all they want. I don't care."
And somehow, neither did she.
#rafe cameron#rafe x reader#obx#rafe obx#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron fanfiction#drew starkey#outer banks#rafe Cameron imagines#Rafe Cameron fluff#drew starkey x reader#drew starkey x y/n#obx fanfiction#outer banks fanfiction
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Lull
Steve Rogers x Reader (You / OFC)
Summary: So this is when you understood the difference between making love and banging, or, in this case, fucking.
Warning: Fluff / SMUT / MINORS DNI / 18+ / Unprotected Sex /
Characters: OC, Tony Stark, Maria Hill, Bruce Banner, Sam Wilson, Sharon Carter, Natasha Romanoff
Also: Thanks in advance for repost or any feedback ❤️ Let me know if you want to be included in the taglist (DM, comment, repost and tag, whatever works)❤️ You don't need to read the previous chapters but it will definitely enhance the experience if you do.
1: Insomnia | 2: Lucid | 3: Reverie | 4: Nightmare | 5: Awakening | 6: Dusk | 7: Hypnagogia
You slipped through the streets like shadows, holding hands, hearts racing, eyes darting over your shoulders, every sound amplified by the silence of the night. The Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder – or ‘Magic Stark-Potter Thing’ as Steve was calling it – had granted you some safe time. But time was fragile, and you both knew it.
Your powers pulsed beneath your skin, guiding Steve with quiet certainty. You could feel the city’s pulse, see through the walls, and peer into the hidden corners of every alley. You led him down paths that no one else knew, invisible threads pulling you toward safety. The streets, immersed in late hours after midnight, stretched before you like the remnants of some secret map.
When you reached a narrow street swallowed by the night, you knelt down and moved a pile of old garbage cans aside, revealing a small, grimy basement window. You glanced back at Steve, and gestured for him to follow you down.
Turned out to be an underground club, and the party was just getting good.
The air was thick with the smell of alcohol, sweat, and smoke. Neon lights painted the walls in erratic colors—electric blues and deep reds—while people shouted over the pounding music, their laughter swallowed by the deafening noise.
You exchanged a look with Steve as you pushed through the crowd. His usual composed demeanor flickered, his eyes scanning the chaotic scene while staying close behind you. You weaved through the press of bodies, brushing against strangers lost in their own worlds, music vibrating through your bones as you both made your way to the other side. It felt like a different universe—one that was wild, loud, and completely unaware of the chaos lurking outside its walls.
“I need a computer!” You raised your voice so he could hear.
“I really don’t think you’ll find one here.” He almost laughed, holding your waist and waving through the people around you as you moved forward.
“I know.” You tilted your jaw. “But that’s perfect, look.” You pointed to the computer they used as a register to take orders. “An older one, probably. I need to enter an untraceable code; our network is probably compromised, so I need to notify the only being who can’t be hacked or corrupted.”
“Really?” Now he was intrigued. “Who?”
“Vision.” You continued to scan the place as you moved through the dancing crowd. “These machines won’t work, they’re plugged into their private network. I’ll need something connected to the outside. C'mon… let’s go to another floor.” It was a huge underground bar, so you held Steve’s hand and moved to the stairs.
“I think we’ve got company.” Steve tightened his grip as he noticed some guys entering the floor. They looked like military—tense poses and sharp, alert eyes scanning the place. He looked up and saw more of them on the floor above, near the exits and moving through the whole place.
“Let’s go, we don’t have much time. I think there’s some gear on me that’s making us trackable.” You hurried with him to go down, but stopped when those military men started coming from downstairs. You pulled him aside, hiding in a dark corner, but they weren’t leaving. Steve’s figure—tall, handsome, blonde—was too easy to recognize. A lot of women (and men) were looking at him with flirtatious eyes, intrigued.
You passed by corridors and stairs full of people, using your powers and his sensitive perception to navigate the space. The men didn’t notice you were there, but their eyes were everywhere.
You felt Steve’s body tense beside you, ready to attack at any moment, and the place would turn into hell if that happened. You cupped his face, pulling him closer to the wall, your eyes scanning behind him.
“I’ve always wanted to do this with you…” You smirked as the men passed by, and with your hand on his neck, you kissed him deeply.
Shit. Steve’s body went rigid.
This was the worst place and the worst time, but somehow, it felt so right. He’d almost forgotten how much he needed this. The moment your lips met his, your body pressed against his, the scent of smoke and debris clinging to you from the chase. But your kiss, it grounded him—reminded him why every risk was worth it.
He kissed you in the flicker of shadows, under the flashing lights, in a dark corner of an underground club. Drunk, dancing strangers moved in their own ecstasy, oblivious to the danger. It wasn’t something he ever imagined doing, but then again, you always brought the unexpected. And again...How could you ever think he’d choose anyone else over you? Over this?
He deepened the kiss, pinning you to the wall, his tongue brushing yours, and it felt so right… you tasted like sweetness, laced with something wild, like sin and salvation entwined.
“Steve…” You broke away, eyes still on the men as they passed, and he lifted your leg, wrapping it around his waist. You grinned. “I really don’t think this is the time…”
“Well…” He chuckled, voice rough. “I think it’s the perfect time for this.”
“Come on. Let’s move now that we have the chance.” You pressed a soft kiss to his cheek before starting to move.
Taking advantage of the lack of enemies in sight, you made it to the last floor through doors and hidden passageways and arrived at what seemed to be a VIP room.
“There we go.” Your eyes locked onto a computer next to a more sophisticated bar. “That’ll do.” But as you approached, Steve’s senses sharpened, picking up the tension of a threat.
He glanced over his shoulder and saw a group of men—tall, armed, and bearing the unmistakable faces of movie villains. Why do they always look like the bad guys? He sighed, slowly rolling up his sleeves. Well, it was about damn time. He had been holding back this feeling of wanting to punch someone ever since a bomb exploded near your car.
“Mmm?” You turned back and noticed the surroundings. The only guy who had been on a date at a corner table rushed out with his partner as soon as the room filled with the approaching men, circling both of you. He was even polite enough to close the door behind him.
“Oh.” You blinked at the 1, 2, 3… 15 men surrounding you.
“Gentlemen, there’s really no need for this to escalate…” You advised as the tension thickened, movements slowing to a crawl before the inevitable first strike.
“Shut up, doll. We’ll take care of you later.” Said the man who seemed to be their leader, smirking at you. “And believe me, you’ll be well attended.”
“Oh … you really shouldn’t have said that.” You shook your head, already sensing Steve’s fists clenching in response.
“Sir, you’re about to get the smash of your life…” You spun just in time to grab the bartender’s hand as he reached for a weapon beneath the desk, a fight breaking out behind you. “Please don’t do that.” You blinked at him. “I just need to borrow your computer, okay?”
“Um…” The bartender, startled by your strong grip, noticed the Avengers logo on your gear and quickly reconsidered. “Um… this thing runs on Windows Millennium. Like…Yikes.” He gestured at the ancient machine. “Don’t you need something, I don’t know, more modern?”
“It’ll do, thanks.” You hopped over the bar counter and began typing. “If it doesn’t send Vision a signal, it’ll at least ping him with a virus warning.”
The moment Steve moved, the air shifted.
The first punch landed with the force of a freight train, sending one of the goons crashing into a table, shattering glass and upending chairs. Chaos erupted in the room as fists and bodies collided. Steve ducked under a wild swing, his movements sharp and precise, retaliating with a brutal uppercut that left another attacker sprawled on the floor. Damn, this is so boring. A punching bag in the training room felt even heavier.
One of the armed men lunged at him with a knife, but Steve twisted to the side, catching the man’s wrist and flipping him over with ease. The crack of bones echoed as the thug hit the ground hard, and Steve was already turning, launching a swift kick into another man’s chest, sending him crashing through the VIP room’s thin partition wall.
“Babe, you got that?” He moved his head, avoiding a knife—or whatever sharp thing was coming from the back—grabbed the guy by his arm, and twisted it like a towel.
“Just a sec.” You were typing the commands as bottles clinked and tables flew across the room, the thumping bass from the club floor below barely audible over the grunts and crashes of the fight.
“Just… okay, there.” You turned to the bartender: “Do you want me to upgrade this system for you?”
The bartender wanted to answer, but suddenly bent over as a guy was thrown and hit against the wine cellar. He covered his head and screamed, so you raised your eyebrows and took that as a no.
With only three men left standing, they hesitated for a moment, locking eyes with each other as if silently deciding who would make the first move. But that took forever, and Steve was getting bored. He lunged forward, grabbing the nearest man by the collar, lifting him effortlessly before slamming him down onto the tables, the impact scattering bottles and glasses across the floor.
Before the next guy could even react, Steve spun, delivering a swift elbow to the second man’s jaw, sending him reeling backward into a bookshelf, knocking it over with a deafening crash.
The last man, clearly outmatched, pulled out a gun in a desperate attempt to regain control. But Steve was faster. In one fluid motion, he ducked low, dodging the shot, and surged forward, ripping the gun from the man’s hand and delivering a bone-crushing punch to his gut. The man doubled over in pain, gasping for breath, before Steve finished him off with a knee to the face, leaving him crumpled on the ground.
The room was now littered with unconscious bodies, shattered glass, and overturned furniture.
“Wow…” You said in awe. “You didn’t even sweat.” You were thinking that he sweats more when he’s in bed with you.
And he laughed, thinking the same: “I’m saving that for later.”
Just as the dust was settling and Steve was wiping his hands clean, the door burst open, and Tony sauntered in, his suit gleaming in the dim light.
"Everybody freeze!" Iron man said in a mechanical voice behind his helmet, raising his hand and pointing at… nothing. Then he lowered it, noticing the room was still, filled only with men groaning in pain on the floor, while you and Steve rolled your eyes at him.
"What? I was already nearby when Vis delivered the message just three seconds ago. It's not like I'm late..." He raised an eyebrow at the sight of unconscious bodies and broken furniture, clearly unfazed by the chaos, as the team led by Maria and Sam entered the room with their weapons raised.
"Get 'em all; we need intel," Steve sighed as he walked over to you. "There’s a lot of interrogation to do." He pulled you close. "C'mon, let's go home."
It was almost sunrise when you arrived at the compound. You slept a bit in the car, and when the heroes started debating in the command room about the next steps and strategies, you stretched your body and headed to the dressing room yawning.
You needed a cold water shower to clear your mind before helping Tony and Bruce decipher all the information. Plus, you had to get out of this suit that smelled like grilled cement, ashes, and burnt fabric.
Ugh, you were a mess. You opened the locker and started unzipping the gear when you suddenly heard footsteps behind you.
Steve’s arms locked around you before you could turn. He restrained your wrists as a frenzied kiss landed on your lips, fingers laced with yours, pinning you against the wall. While holding you captive with one hand, he explored your wrists with the other.
He was burning.
The kiss deepened, and all the feelings he had been holding back since the car chase, was poured into the embrace.
He was so turned on by everything that had happened—the adrenaline, the action, the danger, and the risks. He was impressed, and aroused, so fucking aroused.
He knew you were special, but you didn’t even blink during the chaos.
There were explosives, drones, and the entire freaking Iron Army chasing you in a car, and you didn’t step back an inch.
This unyielding, unwavering, fierce-as-fuck version of you was driving him insane.
“Steve…?” You broke the kiss because you needed air, though you were enjoying it. “Are you okay?” Didn’t you just kind of… escape from death?
“Better than ever.” He pressed his forehead against yours, breathing heavily. “I need you.” He said this while lowering your gear’s zipper, inhaling as your breasts sprang free from your clothes. He groaned, kneading them with desperate need.
Oh, okay… You moaned, tilting your head back when he sucked and lapped at them. Your gear was only half off as he pulled down your pants, kicked them aside, lifted your leg around his waist, and plunged into your already soaked folds.
Oh, wow. You gasped in awe as your inner walls stretched wide, completely filled by him, and your bodies slamming against the lockers.
And that’s when you understood the difference between making love and banging, or, in this case, fucking.
Yup, what you’d been doing every night was making love. But this…
This was Steve fucking you. And fucking you hard.
The pace was brutal, pounding with relentless intensity. He held your leg and gripped your ass to keep you in position. With one hand on your neck, forcing eye contact, he fucked you harder and harder.
His voice was hoarse and raw, groaning with lust. When he saw you bite your lip to stay quiet, he smiled and quickened his pace.
“I’ve wanted to do this since you kissed me in the nightclub…” He said, his body slamming into yours, locking you against the lockers.
“Keeping you like this in a dark corner, making love to you in the middle of the crowd…” With those images in mind, he murmured in your ear, his thrusts becoming stronger, admiring how waves of pleasure overtook you, making you pressed your leg tighter to his waist, your breath coming in silent gasps, pleading for more.
“Steve…” You could barely whisper. You couldn’t catch your breath as he pounded into you, shaking your body with the force of his thrusts. Your nails dug into his back, trying to hold back your voice, biting your lower lip so the moans wouldn’t escape. You didn’t even know if he had locked the door—someone could walk in at any moment.
But he was so hard, his pace so fast and relentless, completely out of control.
Steve never came before you did. He always made sure you were satisfied first. But this time, he cums when you finally gave in and moaned his name, his release hot and thick inside you.
Before you could even process it, he pulled out and turned you around.
Your breasts hit the lockers as his hands gripped your waist. He positioned you, and just when you were about to inhale, he was inside you again.
Fuck! This felt so good…! Steve never felt this urge, never wanted this so bad, his eyes darkening with further lust and desire, his hands pressing your waist and squeezing your bouncing ass cheek as he sees how he thrusts inside out of you.
You are so tight, so wet, so fucking perfect for his cock, as you were tailored made for him. He was probably hard since you commanded him in the car, with that badass attitude and fierce determination, and now you were leaning there, with your elbows against the locker, your tits bouncing as he strokes, your ass cheeks marked as he squeezes and rubs them, and your folds still dripping remains of his last cum. Totally at his mercy.
Fuck, this is hot.
He was going wild. Seeing you trying to mute what at home would be the sweetest or wildest moan, only spur him on, driving him to fuck you with greater velocity, snapping forward with greater intensity.
“Let go, babe…” He said, snapping his hips forward. Each thrust hit that perfect spot deep inside you, sending shockwaves of pleasure rippling through both of your bodies. “Let it go… Cum for me honey… Come on… I know you’re about to…”
He leaned forward, grabbed your face, and kissed you fiercely, his tongue claiming yours. His hand found your breasts, tweaking and tugging at your nipples until they stiffened, begging for attention.
“Fuck, baby… You feel so good…” His voice was a ragged, hot breath near your ear. His fingers found your clit, rubbing fast circles as he continued to fuck you.
Your moans were loader, and your clit was so sensitive, it couldn’t take more contact, Steve’s thumbs rubbed faster and stronger, and as he continues to fuck you in your spot, when he feels your walls about to clamp, he just whispers in a determined tone in your ear. “Cum, now.”
It was like he had a switch that controlled your body. Your inner walls clenched at his command, and you gave in, cumming long and hard around his cock, your body trembling. All you were making was lust sounds, mumbling his name, trying to breathe and to recover to the ecstasy that went from your clit to your mind.
“That’s it, my love…” He smiled with satisfaction, hissing through clenched teeth, his fingers tangling in your hair as he guided you into another fervent kiss.
When his lips sealed yours, the thrusts became faster and rougher, uncontrollable moans escaping as his hands roamed over your breasts. His movements were frenetic, chasing his own orgasm.
You moved with him, drunk on lust, oblivious to everything else. You felt his hands squeezing harder, his gasps becoming heavier, his cock growing bigger and stronger. Finally, he buried himself inside you, erupting and flooding your depths with a hot load of cum. His hips jerked involuntarily as the last drops spilled inside you, and he was finally satisfied.
“Oh…god… fuck, babe…” He had one hand still rubbing your tits, another pressing your clit and feeling his cum overload your folds, and his body resting in yours, covered with sweat, gear at his feet, when the extreme edge washed over him. “That…was…amazing.”
"Steve..." You panted as he pulled out and turned you around, instantly leaning into him. "I need to sit..." Your knees were weak, and your thighs hurt a little, but in a good way, a very good way.
He let out a soft laugh. "I’m so sorry..." He kissed your forehead as he lifted you onto the bench and covered you with his shirt. "Did I hurt you? Oh..." He winced at the marks on your waist and thighs, nearly bruised from his hands.
"Shit, babe... I’m sorry I got carried away." His voice softened, apologetic. "Does it hurt?" He pressed a kiss on your wrists, where he had also been holding on so tight. "Fuck... I’m sorry."
"No." You grinned and kissed him back. "It was amazing..." You leaned toward him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. "I loved it. We should have more missions like this."
"As much as I’d love to..." He smiled and brushed a strand of hair out of your face, holding you close. "I hate the danger around you. But hey..." He hesitated for a moment. "About what I said earlier..."
"'Cum, now'?" You imitated his voice, and he let out a loud laugh.
"No, earlier..."
"Mmm..." You recalled your eidetic memory. "'Keeping you like this in a dark corner, making love to you in the middle of the crowd'?"
Your eyes brightened. "You wanna go back to the nightclub so we can make out?"
Steve actually considered it for a second. "We’ll talk about that later... but no, I meant what I said in the car before the Iron Army attacked us like Ultron’s possessed children."
"Yeah..." You didn’t remember. Well, no, you weren’t listening. "I was distracted by the giant bomb headed toward us, babe... I’m sorry I didn’t hear."
He leaned back, chuckling and shaking his head.
"Okay, what I was saying..." Now he was looking right at you. He cupped your face, leaving a soft kiss on your lips. "I think it’s just been proven how deeply, madly, utterly in love I am with you. I don’t have eyes for anyone else..."
"Ohhh!" Now you connected the dots. "So we’re talking about my insecurities because you hung out with your gorgeous ex-girlfriend all day?"
"She’s not..." Steve sighed, then softened his voice. "Well, there. There’s nothing for you to be insecure about. I love you. Only you. And I think I’ve proven my desire to be with you forever with the ring..."
"What?" Now you were shocked. "Wait, what?" You sat up straight. "Was the ring really... really... a ring?"
"Of course it is. What else would it be?"
"Um... you said it was a tracking device."
"It is." Steve sighed. "But eventually, when all this is over, it will be just a ring that means: you’re the love of my life, and I want to be with you forever." He smiles at your incredulous face, and holds you in his embrace, placing a kiss on your forehead: "In this life, and all the lifetimes to come. I want only you."
You stared at him, speechless, feeling the warmth of his arms around you and the weight of his words settling in. His gaze was so full of love, it made your heart race. For a moment, you couldn’t find the words, but then you leaned into him, resting your forehead against his.
"Steve..." You whispered, your voice thick with emotion. "I don’t know what to say."
"You don’t have to say anything." He replied softly, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. "Just... stay with me. That’s all I need."
You smiled, your heart overflowing. "Yes." You kissed him back. "Now. Always. Forever."
"Okay, now that we’re good..." He lifted you up in his arms. "C’mon princess, let’s take a bath, we are a mess here."
Oh. You raised your eyebrows. You don’t know who he’s kidding; you both know how this was going to end.
The End but TBD :)
Continue to:
9: Vigil |
10: Eclipse |
Divider Credits: to the wonderful @cafekitsune
And that's a wrap for chapter 8! Wohoo, I'm so glad I've made it to write a complete smut!! xD I really suck at writing it in english :D So with so many wonderful writers out there, thank you for reading up to here, hope you enjoyed it :D And thanks everyone for participating in the poll last post xD Can't believe fluff won, come on some angst and then a fluff and happy ending won't hurt, right? xD
I'll see you next friday for chapter 9! Wow 9 chapters!! <3
Tag list: @vioplay19 / @jamneuromain / @steviebbboi / @heletsmelovehim / @otterlycanadian / hisredheadedgoddess28
*can you let me know if I've missed anyone in the taglist? thanks <3
#captain america x reader#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x ofc#captain america x you#chris evans fanfiction#steve rogers x you#steve rogers x female reader#captain america x ofc#steve rogers smut#steve rogers fanfiction#steve rogers fluff#chris evans characters
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club night | choi seungcheol
As you enter the club with Seungcheol by your side, the pulsating beats envelop you, igniting a rush of excitement. You exchange a knowing glance, both aware of the unspoken agreement to enjoy the night separately, free to mingle with your own friends.
You nod to each other before parting ways, disappearing into the crowd. Seungcheol's figure quickly blends into the vibrant sea of dancers, his easy charm drawing people towards him effortlessly.
You find yourself surrounded by your own circle of friends, laughter and chatter filling the air. Drinks flow freely, and the music pulls you into its rhythm, washing away any lingering inhibitions.
As you chat and sip your drink with your friends, you catch sight of Seungcheol across the room. Your gaze lingers as you notice him engaged in conversation with a girl, her laughter ringing out above the music. She leans in close, her body language unmistakably flirtatious.
You watch, intrigued yet oddly unsettled, as Seungcheol reciprocates her advances with a playful grin and a witty retort. Your stomach twists with an unexpected pang of bitterness, the casual nature of your relationship suddenly feeling uncomfortably real.
"Can you believe him?" you mutter to your friend, your voice tinged with a hint of resentment.
But just as you're about to turn away, Seungcheol's eyes flicker in your direction, catching you in the act. His smirk deepens as he holds your gaze, a silent challenge in his eyes that sends a shiver down your spine.
"Looks like someone's not having as much fun as they thought," he teases, his voice barely audible over the music.
You swallow hard, feeling exposed under his penetrating stare. Despite your best efforts to maintain a facade of indifference, you can't shake the sting of jealousy that courses through you. With a forced smile, you raise your glass in a mocking toast before turning back to your friends, determined to bury the unwelcome surge of emotions that threaten to overwhelm you.
As you take a gulp from your glass, a plan starts forming in your mind. You can play that game too. Your friend's invitation to accompany her to the bar station is the perfect opportunity to observe Seungcheol's next move. With feigned curiosity, you agree, your eyes never leaving his figure in the distance.
As you stand at the bar, deliberating over your choice of drink, a tall, handsome stranger sidles up beside you, his presence commanding attention. You steal a quick glance towards Seungcheol, noting the scene unfolding with the girl at his side, her touch lingering on his biceps as she leans in closer.
Feeling a surge of defiance, you grip your glass tightly, the cool surface a reassuring anchor in the midst of the chaos. You refuse to let Seungcheol's antics unsettle you, determined to hold your own in this impromptu game of cat and mouse.
The stranger turns to you, a charming smile playing at his lips as he engages you in conversation. Despite the distraction of Seungcheol's flirty interlude, you find yourself drawn to the stranger's magnetic presence, his confidence infectious.
But as the conversation progresses, you sense Seungcheol's eyes on you, his gaze unwavering even as the girl's touch inches closer to his lips. You hold his gaze, a silent challenge passing between you, unspoken words hanging heavy in the air.
With a subtle smirk, Seungcheol lifts his glass in a mocking toast just what you did a while ago, his eyes never leaving yours as the girl's fingers brush against his lips. It's a daring move, a silent declaration of intent that sends a thrill of anticipation coursing through you.
With a coy smile, you started to engage again in a conversation with the stranger beside you, matching his flirtatious banter with ease. You lean in closer, mirroring the girl's actions with Seungcheol, your eyes never leaving his as you deliberately provoke a reaction.
You watch with satisfaction as Seungcheol's expression shifts, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his features. It's a small victory, but in this game of tit for tat, every move counts. And you're determined to show him that you're not one to be played with so easily.
As the guy beside you leans in, his voice barely audible over the thumping bass of the music, he whispers, "Hey, want to go somewhere a bit quieter?"
You meet his gaze, a mischievous glint dancing in your eyes as you nod in agreement. "Sure, why not?"
With a playful smile, you follow him through the crowded club, weaving between bodies until you reach a more secluded corner. The dim lighting casts shadows across the walls, providing a semblance of privacy amidst the chaos.
As you settle into the secluded corner, the guy leans in closer, his breath warm against your ear as he continues to flirt shamelessly. You play along, matching his enthusiasm with a hint of seduction, all the while stealing glances at Seungcheol across the room.
You catch his eye once again, and this time, there's a flicker of surprise in his expression, a hint of realization dawning in his eyes. You hold his gaze defiantly, silently daring him to make a move, to acknowledge the game you're both playing.
Seungcheol's lips are now occupied with the girl's, but his eyes remain fixed on you. It's a silent acknowledgment of the game you're both playing, a subtle challenge that sets your pulse racing.
As the girl leans into him, lost in the moment, Seungcheol's gaze intensifies. There's a depth to his eyes, a silent communication that transcends words. It's as if he's saying, "I see you, and I raise you."
You meet his gaze head-on, refusing to back down. There's a fierce determination in your eyes, a defiance that matches his own.
And as the girl continues to kiss him with her eyes closed, oblivious to the silent exchange between you and Seungcheol, you can't help but feel a surge of adrenaline coursing through your veins.
Turning your attention back to the guy in front of you, you lean in teasingly close, your lips just grazing his as you playfully evade his attempts to kiss you. His hands begin to roam, tracing patterns along your thighs, the fabric of your dress hitching up with each movement.
You revel in the thrill of the moment, the anticipation building as you toy with him, teasing and tempting with every touch. With a mischievous smile, you finally give in, pressing your lips to his in a heated kiss, your mind buzzing with the knowledge that Seungcheol's eyes never once left you, even as he indulged in his own distraction.
As the guy in front of you moves from your lips to your jaw and down to your neck, placing soft kisses along the way, you find yourself getting lost in the moment, forgetting momentarily about the game you were playing with Seungcheol.
But before things can escalate further, you're suddenly pulled away, the guy's touch vanishing as this person grabs your arm and guides you towards an empty room. You stumble slightly as he pushes you through the door, the cool air of the room hitting you in contrast to the heated atmosphere outside.
"Having fun, are we?" Seungcheol's voice cuts through the air, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
You bristle at his accusation, your defenses rising instinctively. "I'm not the one who started this," you retort, running a hand through your hair in frustration.
"You're talking back now?" Seungcheol's voice carries a teasing edge, his amusement evident as he grabs your face in his fingers, forcing you to lock eyes with him.
You can feel the heat of his touch against your skin, his proximity sending a shiver down your spine. But instead of backing down, you decide to play the brat, knowing it will provoke him further.
"Yeah, what are you gonna do about it?" you challenge, a smirk playing on your lips as you meet his gaze defiantly.
"You're a real piece of work, you know that?" he says, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.
Seungcheol's grip tightens slightly, his jaw clenching as a flicker of irritation flashes across his features. But there's something else there too, a primal desire that you can't ignore.
You lean in closer, deliberately pushing his buttons as you revel in the power play between you.
"I'm not the one who fucked up, Seungcheol," you declare, refusing to back down as you move closer to his face, the tension crackling between you.
But instead of acknowledging any wrongdoing, Seungcheol's gaze darkens with possessiveness. "You let others touch and kiss you," he accuses, his voice low and dangerous. "You belong to me. Every inch of you is mine."
You bristle at his words, his attempt to gaslight you only fueling your defiance. "Oh, do I?" you retort, your tone dripping with sarcasm. "Last I checked, you weren't the only one in this game."
But he doesn't back down, his grip tightening on your face as he leans in closer. "You fucking allowed someone to kiss you, Y/N," he growls, his voice laced with barely contained anger.
"Like I said, Seungcheol, you're the one who started it. I'm just doing my part," you shoot back, refusing to let him intimidate you.
With a defiant tilt of your chin, you move your hand above his chest, tracing a teasing swirl with your fingertips, a bratty challenge in your actions. You're not about to let him dictate the terms of this game, not when you're just as capable of playing dirty.
Seungcheol's breath catches at your touch, his eyes darkening with a mixture of desire and frustration. But you hold his gaze, unflinching in the face of his intensity. This may be his game, but you're determined to show him that you're not one to be controlled so easily. (but you were dead wrong)
As Seungcheol leans closer, his lips brushing against your neck, his words send a shiver down your spine. "You should have rushed towards me when that whore began flirting, but you just watched, isn't that right?" he whispers, his breath hot against your skin. "You should have claimed me right there."
His words strike a nerve, and you can't deny the truth in them. But before you can respond, he continues, his lips trailing lower to your collarbone, eliciting a soft moan from you. You tilt your head back, offering him more access, but he abruptly pulls away, his gaze piercing as he faces you head-on.
"But instead of running to me, you chose to flirt with someone, huh?" he accuses, his voice tinged with anger and disappointment. "And you even had the guts to fucking kiss that shit. And now you're telling me it's my fault?"
You open your mouth to protest, but before you can speak, Seungcheol's lips find their way to your ear, his teeth nibbling gently as he moves his hand to the exposed skin of your back, tracing slow circles along your backless dress. He leans back once again, his gaze pierces through you with a mixture of anger and desire, a storm swirling in his eyes.
"Did you enjoy making out with that fucker, huh?" Seungcheol's voice is low, his lips almost touching yours, sending a jolt of heat through you. You can feel the wetness forming between your legs as his dominance overwhelms you.
You lick your lips, feeling the dryness as you try to find your voice. "It wasn't like that," you protest weakly, but the desire in his eyes leaves you breathless.
Seungcheol's gaze darkens with lust as he continues, his knee pressing gently between your legs, a tantalizing pressure that makes your pulse race. "Did you use your pretty tongue of yours?" he demands, his voice dripping with possessiveness. "When I went there, you had your fucking eyes closed. Did you fucking enjoy his company that much?"
You struggle to respond, his words sending a surge of arousal coursing through you. But before you can form a coherent reply, he leans in closer, his lips hovering just inches from yours as he whispers, "Did you let that fucker touch you?" His tone is laced with lustful desire, a primal need that ignites a fire within you.
Seungcheol's eyes narrow with intensity, his desire evident as he waits for your response. He knows, and you know he knows, but still, he wants to hear it from your lips.
You're torn between defiance and desire, your body craving his touch even as your pride fights against it. But in the end, it's the intoxicating mix of jealousy and longing in his eyes that wins out.
With a sudden surge of boldness, you grab his collar, pulling him closer, and press your lips to his hungrily. Your kiss is hungry, fueled by a primal need to possess and be possessed.
He finds your eagerness amusing, a smirk playing on his lips as he allows you to take control. But he doesn't kiss you back, his lips remaining passive against yours, a silent challenge that only serves to heighten your desire.
You find his refusal to respond maddeningly arousing, the thrill of the chase driving you to push him further. But deep down, you know that no matter how much you crave his touch, Seungcheol is the one in control.
As he remains passive against your hungry kiss, a whimper escapes your lips, betraying the frustration and desire swirling inside you. You can sense his arousal, feel the heat radiating from him, yet he remains strangely calm despite the anger simmering beneath the surface.
"Why won't you..." you start to protest, but Seungcheol interrupts you with a low chuckle, his eyes dark with amusement and desire.
"Because I know you want it more," he murmurs, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. "And I'm going to make you beg for it."
His words ignite a fire within you, a mixture of frustration and arousal that threatens to consume you. You know he's playing with you, teasing you with the promise of pleasure, and you can't help but fall deeper under his spell. With a frustrated growl, you release his collar, stepping back slightly as you try to catch your breath.
"But if you want to do something with that mouth of yours..." Seungcheol's voice trails off, his tone low and suggestive as he brushes his thumb against your parted lips.
Your breath hitches at the touch, anticipation coursing through you as he inserts his thumb into your mouth, pressing against your tongue with firm insistence.
You look up at him, meeting his gaze with a mixture of desire and defiance, the intensity between you reaching a fever pitch. The taste of his skin against your tongue only serves to fuel the fire within you, igniting a hunger that can't be ignored.
As you suckle gently on his thumb, you can feel the tension in the air crackling with electricity, a silent acknowledgment of the power play unfolding between you.
Seungcheol's eyes darken with desire as he watches you, a smirk playing on his lips. "That's it, be a good girl" he murmurs, his voice husky with arousal. "Show me what that pretty mouth of yours can do."
As you try to suckle on his thumb further, Seungcheol gently stops you, His gaze flickers down to his pants, a silent invitation that you understand all too well.
Without needing any further instruction, you drop to your knees in front of him, your eyes locking with his as you face his obvious arousal straining against his pants.
With practiced ease, you reach out, deftly undoing the button and zipper, releasing him from his confinement. His erection springs free, and you can't help but lick your lips in anticipation, the sight of him already making you throb with need.
Desire coursing through you as you meet his gaze, silently asking for permission. Seungcheol's eyes darken with lust as he watches you, a primal hunger burning within him. With a silent nod, he gives you the approval you seek, granting you permission to satisfy his every need.
As you begin to slowly suck his cock, Seungcheol's hand gently tilts your chin upwards, forcing you to meet his gaze. His eyes burn with intensity, a silent command for you to maintain eye contact while you pleasure him.
With his erection in your mouth, you comply, locking eyes with him as you take him deeper, savoring the taste of him on your tongue. Each movement is deliberate, calculated to elicit the maximum pleasure for him, but your gaze remains locked with his, a silent exchange of desire and dominance.
"You like that, don't you?" he murmurs, his voice thick with arousal as he watches you. "Being watched while you please me."
You can only respond with a muffled hum, your mouth too full to form words, but the hunger in your eyes speaks volumes. As you continue to swirl your tongue along his cock, Seungcheol hisses with satisfaction, praising how good you are.
"Fuck, that's it," he groans, his voice rough with desire as he sets the pace. "Just like that, baby. You know exactly what I like."
His words only serve to fuel your desire to please him further, and you redouble your efforts, determined to make him lose himself in pleasure.
But just as you find your rhythm, Seungcheol holds your hair up, tilting your head back slightly. With a soft groan, he begins to move his hips, setting a pace that you eagerly follow.
You struggle to maintain your balance as he sets the pace, your hands instinctively reaching out to grip his hip and thigh for support. The feeling of him moving within your mouth, filling you completely, sends waves of pleasure coursing through you, and you moan around him, the vibrations only serving to heighten his arousal.
Seungcheol's praises continue, his voice thick with desire as he urges you on, each movement of his hips driving you closer to the edge. You lose yourself in the sensation, completely at his mercy as you surrender to the pleasure of pleasuring him.
As Seungcheol's hips rock into your mouth with increasing force, tears begin to trickle down your cheeks. The roughness of his movements, combined with the demand to not stop using your tongue, sends a wave of mixed sensations coursing through you.
"Don't stop," he demands, his voice low and urgent. "Keep using that pretty tongue."
You try to comply, despite the ache in your jaw from the force of his thrusts. With every movement, he pushes you further, driving you to the brink of pleasure and pain.
"Fuck," he groans, his grip tightening in your hair as he moves faster, his movements becoming more frantic with each passing moment. "Just like that, baby. Don't you dare stop."
You do your best to obey, your mouth working tirelessly to pleasure him despite the strain. But with each passing second, the ache in your jaw becomes more pronounced, tears streaming down your face as you struggle to keep up with his relentless pace.
As Seungcheol's thrusts become more urgent, you can sense that he's getting closer to the edge. Bracing yourself, you prepare for what you know he wants – for you to swallow it all for him.
"Fuck, I'm close," he grunts, his voice strained with ecstasy as he approaches the brink of release.
With a mixture of anticipation and submission, you continue to obey his every command, your mouth working tirelessly to bring him to the peak of pleasure.
As Seungcheol reaches his climax, he pulls his cock out of your mouth just as you're about to swallow all of his cum. Instead, he places it on your lips, his juices still dribbling out from his pulsing cock.
"Keep it there," he commands, his voice thick with satisfaction and dominance. "Let me see you with my cum on your lips."
You obey without hesitation, holding his spent cock in place as his essence coats your mouth. The taste lingers on your tongue, a potent reminder of his control over you as you look up at him with eager anticipation, awaiting his next command.
He looks at you with satisfaction, a smirk playing on his lips as he observes your submissive state.
"You know," he says, his voice laced with smugness, "you can never beat me."
You swallow hard, feeling the weight of his dominance pressing down on you. Despite your best efforts to resist, you know he's right. He always seems to have the upper hand, leaving you powerless to his desires.
With a firm grip on your chin, he reminds you of your place. "Next time a girl flirts with me," he says sternly, "you need to claim that I'm yours. No more flirting with fuckers who approach you."
His words are a sharp reminder of the rules of this game, a game in which he always seems to come out on top.
Seungcheol kneels before you, catching your lip and tasting his own cum on your tongue. His actions are possessive yet tender, a contradiction that leaves you breathless.
"I hope this will be the first and last time you'll act like this, okay?" he murmurs against your lips, biting gently as you nod in response.
He kisses your forehead, his voice softening as he asks if you want to leave the club now. His eyes hold a warmth that belies the intensity of the moment, leaving you questioning the nature of your relationship.
You've asked him about being official before, but he always seems to evade the topic. As you stand there, caught between desire and uncertainty, you can't help but wonder if there's something deeper between you two, something more than just a casual fling. The question lingers, unanswered, as you follow him out of the club, the night's events leaving you with more questions than answers.
....... ≿━━━━━༺S.COUPS༻━━━━━≾ .......
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