#˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳ ⌞hanging out⌝ 📖
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Can you give us more information on what Candy Theseus is like?
YES I CAN!!! [I THINK!!!]
So I just went with "Sweet" in general? So hes based off of hot chocolate and not so much candy. I hate chocolate, personally but I've been drinking a lot of hot chocolate lately! [Its okay, coming from someone who hates hot drinks and chocolate.] I was debating on either Hot Choccy or Pumpkin Pie until I realized that making it hot chocolate would tie it back to Ice King [and I fucking love tying everything back to Ice King. Theres smth abt how all the Ice!Versions of Warren are more snow themed, theres smth about how he associates I.K. with all the good things about winter. Smth abt how even like this Warren sees Simon in such a positive light. Betty and Warren are fucking head over heels for that man /silly]
He's a sweetheart, I mean of course he is! That's the whole point anyway. I think if he didn't shake it off after being picked up by Betty and Ice King again he'd probably be more physically affectionate than before- clingy, I think.
In my mind being Element Affected just Heightens pre-existing emotions. So he's very excitable and affectionate towards I.K. and Betty! "Those are my favorite people in the whole wide world!" Vibes. For normal people it might be borderline suffocating but Betty and Ice King are Built Like That so!
Though, it wouldn't stick long. Despite the fact that Warren is more easily affected by the elements bc of his fucked up shapeshifter genes he's just as quick to shake it off after a moment. [And he HATED being like that, it was super embarrassing!]
#i think if it were a role swap instead he'd be a lot calmer.#simultaneously role swap [or just replacement] candy!warren is really funny to me? mans does not mind being kidnapped by this guy#they are having a pleasant conversation in the jail cell. warren considers it a free vacation /silly#is it kidnapping if youre okay with it? i think thats just a spontaneous hang out#i should DRAW THIS OUGHH#ty for the ask king!#the prince || ♠️#elements pack || 📖#the void calls back || asks
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hey you 🫵
make ur personal dashcon for all I care. as many snacks and as much nudity n weed as you want for whichever scenario lol. go nuts show nuts yknow? or whatever we used to say
#star’s polls#polls#okay bless it’s set for a week now lol#tumblr#mutuals#reblog n Lemme know!!!.#uhhh I think I said I’d wanna do a pool party and s’mores n a horror movie….yea….#if you’ve seen this already vote again I fucked up 😭#added weed bc I forgot most people aren’t straight edge lol
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Simon turned the DVD over in his hands to read the back while he walked; it's a series he'd never heard of, but it's pretty popular among the younger generation considering the waitlist to rent it. And, while he wasn't particularly interested in the premise, it really was right up Marceline's alley, and he'd been pleasantly surprised by her suggestions before.
He checks his phone as he fishes his keys out of his back pocket.
[Simon -> Marci] Wonderful. I won't forget the drinks this time. :-)
Tossing the DVD on the bed to pack it and the refreshments into his little bag, he holds the phone in his both hands.
[Simon -> Marci] Me too, Marceline.
Well, he shouldn't keep her waiting. The phone is tucked away so he can finish getting ready to go after typing out a quick "I'm on my way."
@caelumangeli from x
#( 📖 simon petrikov. in character )#caelumangeli#( yes please i want them to hang out and have a good time they both deserve it so much#( also lmk if this is enough to reply to i can write more! no worries :)
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Party of Three
Kazuha (🦢) X Sakura (🌸) X Reader (📖)
Word Count: 2.7k
A/N: Prompt for @suchsweetstories. Thanks for hosting!
The air hangs heavy, fragrant with warm skin and breathed liquor. Each breath shivers with a chorus of whimpers and muffled groans, until even the hush between sounds feels taut with pleasure.
Kazuha is the trembling center—back arched in a perfect curve. You pin her arms behind her, hips driving forward with relentless rhythm, keeping her weight tilted to meet every thrust. In front, Sakura molds herself to Kazuha’s chest, steadying her while still forcing that exquisite bend. She turns her gaze over Kazuha’s shoulder, eyes locking with yours, a slow smile spreading as Kazuha’s soft cries flutter against her neck.
“This is what you wanted all along, isn’t it?” she purrs, gaze flicking to yours while Kazuha gasps. “My greedy little slut—fantasizing about me and my boyfriend.”
The words are filthy, but Sakura’s fingers comb Kazuha’s hair with disarming tenderness. Each insult makes Kazuha clench, velvet heat gripping you so hard you curse under your breath.
“Fuck… you’re so tight.”
Sakura’s smile widens—she has both of you dancing on her strings, savoring the power as your control frays and Kazuha dissolves in breathless moans.
“Still hiding that voice?” she murmurs, lips grazing Kazuha’s ear. “We’re giving you everything, and you won’t even let us hear how badly you need it?”
Her hand slips lower. The moment Sakura’s fingers find Kazuha’s clit, a sharp cry rips free. The dam bursts: Kazuha’s once‑muffled sounds swell into shameless, aching wails.
“I‑I… can’t—” she tries, words shattering on her tongue.
“Speak.” Sakura’s command is velvet‑soft, relentless fingers never slowing. “You weren’t shy a moment ago—so eager to tell us every filthy thought.”
Kazuha can only sob, hips jerking as pleasure coils tight.
Sakura chuckles, wicked and fond. “This is your doing. That needy little mind of yours can’t think of anything but sex—”
Whatever she does next steals the rest of Kazuha’s breath: her body arches, clenches, a raw scream spilling as she convulses around you, proof that Sakura is guiding her right over the edge.
“Shit im close!!” you groan.
“Kazhua baby,” Sakura purrs, “You don't mind if my boyfriend cum inside do you?”
Kazuha didn't answer, her mouth still gasping, moaning, too busy with accommodating the pleasure.
“Do you?” Sakura asks again, more demanding now.
“No!” she screams, on the edge of pleasure herself. “Fuck… Please…”
Sakura shifts her gaze to you, “Do it, give it to her” she simply says, “She's ours tonight.”
As if her words are the trigger, you broke. With a guttural groan that tore from your throat, you poured yourself into Kazuha, a hot, thick rush that felt infinite. Her body convulsed violently beneath you, a raw, keening scream ripping free as she shattered around your climax. The feeling of her seizing, clutching, taking everything you gave her was an electric shock, making you shudder and thrust one last, deep time before collapsing forward, heavy and spent.
Your strength finally gives out, and you shift to the side, collapsing onto the bed with a heavy breath. Kazuha drops beside you, eyes closed, her chest rising and falling as she succumbs to exhaustion. You reach out, gently brushing a few strands of hair from her face, revealing her peaceful expression beneath the mess of it all—soft, flushed, beautiful.
On the other side of the bed, Sakura stretches out, clearly the most energetic of the three. Her smile hasn't faded—still bright, still giddy—as she gazes at Kazuha with something close to adoration. Then her eyes flick to you. She leans in and cups your face, her thumb brushing your cheek.
“Who would've thought, huh?” she murmurs.
You can't help but smile back, still catching your breath. She’s right. You’re still reeling from how quickly Kazuha could shift—from sweet, shy stammering to something so intense it left your head spinning.
Moments earlier the three of you had sprawled in the living room. Sakura on the other edge of the table while Kazuha vanished into the kitchen to fetch more drinks. Party remnants lingered everywhere: half‑eaten cake on the coffee table, the TV still set to karaoke, balloons and pom‑poms drooping in corners, a tower of unpacked boxes shoved aside to clear floor space.
“Party” was generous; truthfully it was just you and your girlfriend scrambling to throw together something for Kazuha’s birthday. Still, Kazuha’s place in your relationship had always been special. She’d been Sakura’s best friend long before you met her, the very reason you met Sakura at all, and even after playing matchmaker she never drifted away. When it was you and Sakura, things were romantic; when Kazuha joined, it shifted to three friends hanging out—easy, natural. You’d never questioned that balance … until tonight.
Kazuha was still rattling around the kitchen, leaving you and Sakura sitting cross‑legged on the floor.
“It’s been a long day,” Sakura sighed, tapping a sealed box within reach before gesturing to the birthday decorations. “You did so much. We should’ve gotten back from the store sooner,” she teased.
You drained the last of your drink. “I didn’t think—I just did what I could. ‘Go set up while I keep Zuha out’ isn’t exactly a detailed plan,” you laughed.
“At least it worked. We even picked up furniture on the way—efficient, just how she likes.” Sakura polished off her drink, then forked a bite of cake.
“True, but who decides to move right before their birthday? A house‑warming party should happen after unpacking, not during—and definitely not on the same night,” you muttered, keeping your voice low.
“She likes efficiency, 2 parties in one” Sakura repeated around a mouthful of cake. Then she swallowed and murmured, “I can’t wait to get home.”
“We’re not staying?” You blinked. “It’s late, we’ve both had drinks—we can’t drive.” Sakura stared, clearly lining up a rebuttal. “Unless there’s a specific reason you want to go home?”
She set her fork down and crawled around the table to press against you. You wrapped an arm around her.
“Why?” you asked softly.
“Don’t you want to go home?” she murmured.
“And leave Zuha alone?” The playful swat she gave your arm said she disliked that angle.
“Don’t you want to do something at home?” she asked, cheeks coloring.
The penny dropped. “You mean… you want to play?”
She didn’t deny it; the guilty smile said enough. “You want to go home because you want to queue up in League?”
“It’s just—playing with you, I like it more than I expected.”
“It’s been a long day. Even if we did go home, I doubt I’d last a match.” You glanced toward the kitchen. “And you’d leave Zuha alone on her birthday?”
“She’ll understand—she’s my best friend, she knows how much I lo—”
“Understand what?”
Kazuha pads back in, two fresh beers hissing in her grip. You take one, setting it on the table while Sakura scoots aside, suddenly sheepish.
“It’s nothing—you wouldn’t get it anyway,” you tease.
“That’s not fair.” Kazuha drops cross‑legged beside you, popping her can. “Every time I walk in, you two change the subject.”
Sakura exhales. “Fine. We finally did it—together.” She pauses for effect. “lol.”
Kazuha chokes mid‑swallow. “Wait, what?”
“You okay?” you ask, patting her back. “Bit of an overreaction, isn’t it?”
“I just assumed you’d… done that ages ago,” Kazuha sputters.
“Nah,” Sakura says, wiping foam from her lip. “Everyone says it can wreck a relationship if you’re not in sync.”
“They do?” Kazuha frowns, thinking.
“I’ve heard horror stories,” Sakura goes on. “Happy couples break up after one bad match. No synergy.”
Kazuha nods slowly. “Yeah… I guess I’ve heard things like that.” She lifts her can to hide a shy glance. “So—were you two… compatible?”
“We were,” Sakura answers at once, pride bright in her voice.
But Kazuha’s eyes linger on you, waiting. You shrug, grinning. “Yeah, it was fun—though Sakura definitely enjoyed it more. She keeps begging for another round.”
“We ended up doing it all night,” Sakura shyly admits.
Kazuha’s fingers tighten around her can. “All … all night?” she echoes, eyes wide.
Sakura gives a shy laugh. “We lost track of time. I’ve played with others before, but with him it was relaxed and fun.”
You notice Kazuha squirm, clearly unsettled. “Anyway, Zuha, this topic is going to bore you,” you say, glancing at Sakura. “You’ve never played, right?”
“H‑how did you know?” Kazuha sputters, shooting Sakura a glare. “Did Kkura tell you?”
“No,” Sakura chuckles. “You’ve just never brought it up—people assume.”
“I… I—” Kazuha falters.
“Okay, new topic. Furniture?” you suggest.
But Kazuha lifts her chin. “Even if I’ve never done it, I know a lot. I’ve studied.” Both you and Sakura blink at that. “I’ve read plenty.”
“You do?” Sakura perks up.
“Read?” you repeat. “That’s an unusual way to start—most people learn through videos.”
“I’ve watched them,” Kazuha mutters, cheeks tinged pink. “They get repetitive. Reading is more detailed. And lots of people read it too, so I’m not weird.”
“Sure…” you nod slowly, amused. “So, have you played before?”
“No. Never had the chance,” Kazuha says, shifting in her seat. ���I can’t just do it with anyone, can I? I want it to be special. I guess.”
“Why? That’s kind of limiting,” Sakura laughs, leaning back. “Just do it yourself then.”
“That counts?”
“Why wouldn’t it?” Sakura shoots back instantly.
Kazuha hesitates—then quietly says, “Then… I’ve already done it. A lot.”
“Are you sure it’s ‘a lot’?” you tease. “Because Sakura here is the definition of excessive. She’ll just sit there and do it for hours. Days blur together. I’ve had to physically pull her away some weekends.”
Sakura shrugs innocently, not even denying it.
“How often do you do it then?” you ask, grinning. “Sakura easily gets through ten in a weekend.”
“I… I don’t really keep count,” Kazuha mumbles, practically hiding behind her can. “Maybe… six? A day. If I’m really in the mood, I take the whole weekend.”
Sakura nearly chokes on her drink. You stare.
“…Per day?” you echo, slowly.
“I said maybe,” Kazuha defends, mortified. “I just—if I’m in the zone—I can’t stop once I start.”
Sakura nods solemnly. “She’s one of us.”
“How come I’ve never seen you do it?” you ask, genuinely surprised. Kazuha chokes on her drink. “I mean, if you do it a lot, how come you never told us?”
“Why would I tell you? Well, not now but people don't bring it up casually—or do it in front of others!”
“Well, if you’d told us, we could’ve done it together,” Sakura offers with a sly grin.
“Together??” Kazuha sputters, eyes wide. “You two—seriously?”
“Yeah,” you chime in. “We could’ve formed a three-man party. Played normals or quick play together. Though… playing with Kkura might not be the best idea—she gets really competitive.”
“Yeah—maybe just the two of us at first,” Kazuha says, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear, trying to play it cool. “That might be a little less overwhelming.”
“I’m competitive??” Sakura snaps, mock-offended. “I’m not the one who starts swearing every time they get fucked. He just starts throwing insults.”
You turn to Kazuha in your defense. “Hey, it’s only during the game, okay? I’m not actually that kind of person… Right?”
“Yeah—cursing is pretty normal,” Kazuha agrees with a soft smile. “Honestly, I might even prefer the insults.”
“See?” you say smugly, turning back to Sakura. “Kazuha’s on my side. And I’m not the only one with verbal issues—you’re loud too. You make the weirdest moaning noises whenever you get hit. I’ve told you to stop doing that.”
“You don’t like it loud?” Kazuha asked, tilting her head with innocent curiosity.
“Not when she gets that loud,” you sigh. “Someone might overhear and get the wrong idea.”
“Every time,” you continue, “she’s the one getting carried, yet she screams like she’s fighting for her life.”
“I am, though,” Sakura fires back.
“Wait—carried? Screaming? Fighting for your life?” Kazuha’s voice laces with disbelief. “Is it that good?”
“Of course,” Sakura beams. “We did ten ranked placements last weekend. At first, his came out as Silver, but by the time morning hit—bam—we pushed it all the way to Gold.”
Kazuha chokes. “Silver? Gold? Gold?! Isn’t that kind of… unsanitary? I’ve seen videos. I know some people do it, showers, but I didn’t think you two would go that far. Isn’t that dirty?”
“It’s a pretty dirty—some say toxic—rank,” you explain, nodding. “But honestly, we’re enjoying it. It’s better than where we started.”
“I told you we should play all three together,” Sakura insists, already getting excited. “The laptops are in the trunk, right?”
“Wait… are we really doing this?” Kazuha asks, glancing toward you.
You shrug, grinning. “I mean, if that’s what the birthday girl wants—and if you're okay turning your celebration into an all-nighter—why not?”
“Then shouldn’t I do it with you first?” she says, her gaze flicking to yours.
“Hey!” Sakura cuts in. “That’s not fair—leaving me out?”
Kazuha hesitates. “Yeah, I guess that is reasonable… I’m sorry. Okay. Then… are we doing it now?”
“Yeah. Now,” Sakura answers, already sipping her drink like it's settled.
“Now?” Kazuha blinks.
“Yes!”
“Here?”
“Yes, here,” Sakura grins. “What, did you want a penthouse suite or something?”
Kazuha’s brows knit in concentration. “Then… should I start now?”
You and Sakura share a quick, confused glance, her brow raised in silent question. Are we on the same page…? you think.
But before either of you can say a word, Kazuha leans in. Her movements are slow but unsteady, like someone bracing against nerves and alcohol. Her breath is shallow, lips parted slightly, eyes fluttering shut as she inches closer.
Then—her lips press against yours.
Warm. Soft. A little dry.
Your mind goes blank.
The kiss isn’t practiced or smooth. It’s clumsy—her nose bumps awkwardly against yours, and for a second you’re both adjusting, finding some rhythm in the inexperience. But she doesn’t pull away.
In fact, Kazuha leans in more.
Her hand brushes your cheek hesitantly, trembling. Her lips press harder against yours, holding the kiss longer than you expected. It's messy, a little awkward… but honest. She’s trying. Committed.
You can feel it in the way her breath hitches when your lips shift slightly. The way she freezes for a second, then resumes, not knowing what to do—just doing it anyway.
Behind you, Sakura chokes on her beer.
You barely hear it.
You’re too focused on Kazuha—on the quiet vulnerability trembling in her kiss. Not passion, not lust, but raw, unspoken feeling. Hesitant hope.
Eventually, she pulls away. Barely.
Her face hovers close, breath mingling with yours, eyes still shut as if bracing herself for what comes next. When she finally opens them—wide, vulnerable, flushed—they lock onto yours.
But what greets her isn't affection. It's confusion.
Your brows are drawn, not angry, just baffled. Sakura sits frozen next to you, beer halfway to her lips, mouth parted in stunned silence.
“What exactly did you start?” you ask gently, half-smiling through the bewilderment.
Kazuha blinks. Once. Twice. “You… you said—” Her voice falters as panic creeps into her tone. “Wait, what were we talking about?”
“League,” you say carefully. “League of Legends? LoL?”
Her face turns the color of her drink—deep red, all the way to the ears.
Sakura finally finds her voice, her tone flat with disbelief. “Wait. You weren’t thinking about League, were you…? You were thinking about sex?”
“I—I—” Kazuha sputters, hands flailing briefly in protest before she buries her face in them. She sinks back onto the floor, absolutely mortified.
You, still dazed from the kiss, turn slowly to Sakura. “Then you read… wait did she really say she masturbated six times a day?”
Sakura nods stiffly, her lips pressed together in a line as she processes it. Then she glances sideways at you, mouthing silently: Did you like it?
You hesitate.
Because you don’t really know. It was awkward. But there was something… earnest. Unexpected.
Kazuha moves, trying to stand—probably to flee.
“I–I need to—just—leave, I didn’t mean—” she mutters, not even completing the thought.
But Sakura is already behind her. With surprising speed, she wraps her arms around Kazuha from behind, gently but firmly pushing her back into a seated position.
“Where are you going, birthday girl?” she teases softly, chin resting on Kazuha’s shoulder.
Kazuha freezes, breath caught.
Then Sakura glances at you over her shoulder, her eyes playful but half-lidded, her voice low:
“Babe. How about we give this naughty girl of ours a present? Grant her little fantasy—make it come true. Add another layer to her special day, make it a party of three.”
#kpop fanfic#kpop smut#female idol smut#girl group smut#female idol x reader#kazuha smut#sakura smut#idol x male reader#qwib-short-story#qwilorg#qwib-lesserafim#kazuha#sakura
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𝓻𝓪𝓯𝓮𝔂𝓼𝓬𝓾𝓻𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓫𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓼
𝙽𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚢 𝙻𝚒𝚜𝚝 | 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬
𝔻𝕒𝕪 𝕊𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕖𝕟: 𝕂𝕖𝕖𝕡 𝕄𝕪 ℍ𝕒𝕥 𝕆𝕟
𝙲𝚘𝚠𝚋𝚘𝚢!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙱𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛



warnings: cowboy!rafe, mutual pining, kissing, teasing, swearing, older!rafe, drinking, unprotected p in v, car sex, semi-public sex, soft!rafe, grumpy!rafe x sunshine!reader, gets in a fight with jj, teasing, mentions of blood, wet and messy, rafe is huge
📖 This is based on an ask by littlelamy for Cowboy!Rafe. Thank you for your ask, bb! After a messy breakup with a bartender at a rival bar, Cowboy!Rafe needs to find a new place to grab a beer. Turns out you were the sunshine he needed all along. This is also loosely based on my favorite TikTok edit LINK ♥️
Reader’s POV:
Copperhead Road looks beautiful tonight… Well, it's as beautiful as any dive bar can look. It has its charm—dressed up for the holidays with string light and shimmery garland. The scratch of classic country Christmas songs plays over the speakers, marrying with the regulars as they sip on their Coors Banquets and whiskey neats.
It wasn’t much, but it was yours. Most days, you didn’t mind working doubles, especially around the holidays when money was tight. It paid the bills, and the regulars were sweet enough.
“Sweet pea,” Bonnie calls, stepping behind the bar with a smile. She’s an old-time bartender, a “lifer” at Copperhead— ‘too old for this shit’ or so she would say through a cigarette-rasped laugh. “Thank you for stayin’ late for me tonight.”
You give her a nod and a smile, tipping your head on her shoulder as she pulls you in for a hug. “Of course. How was the concert?” You ask.
She smiles brightly, digging her flip phone out of her pocket to proudly show pictures of her granddaughter singing at the Christmas service.
You look around the bar; just a few people hanging out. A younger crowd’s gathered in the corner, nursing some mixed drinks, waiting for the party to start.
“You stayin’ tonight?” She asks as she ties an apron around her waist
”Of course, Mrs. Bonnie… It’s Tuesday night,” you say through a smile as you take off your jean jacket, showing off your rest sparkly tank top. The older women ohs and aws, and you smile and giggle, already knowing that that’s the reaction you were gonna get. Your friend Max holds the door open to the person behind him, and a man grabs it, bringing the cold December wind with him.
He walks in slowly, eyes locked on the rack of liquor lining the wall— his energy letting you know the last thing he was here to do was dance. He tosses his gaze to the ground, walking the rest of the way up to a bar stool, his Carhartt Jacket zipper up and his hat blocking his eyes.
He pulls off his hat as he approaches a chair, revealing his caramel-colored hair, brushed back slightly, just a little fringe hanging down on his forehead. He’s handsome in that rugged cowboy way—in that way that would make any woman in the place swoon.
“He’s cute,” Bonnie coos as she steps behind you, whispering over your shoulder with a grin.
“He looks grumpy,” you chuckle as you loft the rag into the sani bucket, flicking the water off your hands.
“Maybe he just needs a beer and the company of a beautiful young lady,” she teases as she shakes her shoulders and smiles, making your cheeks warm up at the challenge.
“I don’t know… He looks like he doesn’t even want to be here,” you mumble as you grab a bar napkin and a pen.
“He just needs a little holiday cheer, Sweet Pea.”
You draw a deep sigh as you make your way down the line to him, feeling your excitement rise as you get closer. “Evenin’. Can I get you a beer?”
“… Obviously,” he mumbles as he fiddles with his rough hands.
You chuckle and tilt your head slightly, hoping he’ll come to the conclusion that he was an asshole on his own, but he might need a little help. “Well, aren’t you charming?”
His eyes lift at the sound of your voice, like he’s hearing it for the first time. That got his attention. His baby blue eyes lock on yours, sharp features softening fast.
His brows furrow as he looks back at you like he’s trying to figure something out. “Jesus, m’sorry,” he mutters, rubbing his big hand against the back of his neck. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. That wasn't polite…”
“No harm done,” you assure.
He hangs his hat on the hook and unzips his jacket. Your lashes flutter as he pulls it off his shoulders, showing off his white t-shirt underneath. You can see how fit he is under his shirt: his big biceps straining the fabric, leaving nothing to the imagination.
”You okay?” He chuckles. Your eyes tear away from his body, flickering to his as heat pools in your cheeks.
“Uh-Umm… Yeah. Of course. Bud Light?” You ask nervously, guessing his drink of choice.
“Bud heavy,” he sighs, it’s been a long day. And a shot of BV if you have it.” You pop open a bottle of beer resting it in front of him before draining a double-shot of Black Velvet whiskey in a glass.
He reaches into his pocket, grabbing his wallet, but you wave him off. “On the house,” you smile as you set the bottle back. “Are you okay?” You turn the question back to him as you pull out a different spirit for yourself.
He lets out a dry, tired laugh, hanging his head again just like he did when he came in. “Uhh… No. Not really,” he grabs the shot glass, tossing it back. “I broke up with my girlfriend a few days ago.”
“Oh,” you say gently as you search for his eyes. “That’s always rough. M’sorry to hear that…”
“Rafe,” he fills in the blank as you hold out the word, waiting for his name. He extends his hand, and you wipe yours on your skirt, resting yours in his. “Rafe Cameron.”
You introduce yourself as well. The contact between you lasts a little longer than normal, making your heart flutter. “It's nice to meet you.”
“Well, it’s nice to meet you too, sweetheart.”
His pretty blue eyes follow you as you step around the bar, walking toward him. The corners of his lips curl into a smile as you get closer, pulling up a seat next to him. He turns toward you, making the gesture a little more intimate. “Sorry about before,” he mumbles again as he goes for his beer.
“Seriously, don’t worry about it,” you smile. “I’m used to crabby cowboys,” you tease.
“Well, I prefer brooding, but I deserve that,” he laughs against the lip of his bottle before taking a sip. “She’s a bartender too, down at Little Angie’s. Been going there for years. And honestly, it was my bar first, but I guess I can’t go there now,” he huffs, taking a long sip of beer before wiping his hand across his lips. “She cheated on me.”
“On you?” You ask as you cock an eyebrow, lifting your voice in disbelief, genuinely surprised but stroking his ego nonetheless; the man obviously needs it.
“What do you mean ‘on me’?” He drawls, half-hiding his smile with his hands before taking another swig, fishing for the compliment he knew you were feeding him.
“You’re very handsome, Rafe Cameron,” you smile. “Gotta fix that personality of yours, though,” you taunt as you poke him in his muscular chest, making him scowl jokingly.
“I’m a ray of fuckin’ sunshine, princess. The hell do you mean?” He asks, his voice sweet and raspy.
“She sounds like an idiot. I’m sorry,” you say earnestly, resting your hand on his blue jeans, giving him a sweet squeeze before pulling away. You watch a blush creep across his cheeks in the light of the neon moon.
“Thank you, sweetheart,” he hums as he looks back at you. You bite back a dizzy smile as you glance at him.
“Well, lucky for you, Copperhead has better beer and better people,” you smile sweetly as you lean in a little closer.
“Mmm… Mhmm?” He chuckles, trying to fight back his wide smile. “Suppose you are one of those people, huh?” He asks.
“She is,” Bonnie adds as she sets down two more drinks, clearly delighted for you over this turn of events. “N’dosen’t she look stunning tonight?” She raises a question as she grabs two new bottles off the rail.
“Gorgeous,” Rafe croons. “Thank you.” He gestures toward the bottle before shifting in his seat, moving even closer than before. “Hear that? Said ‘thank you’ and everything.”
“Like gentleman,” you coo.
“That’s right,” he grins.
The music around you starts to turn up, you look over your shoulder, so lost in your conversation with Rafe that you didn’t notice the large crowd that had filled the space. You glance back toward the booths—your friends waving wildly as they catch your attention, eyes widening in approval of Rafe as well, making heat bloom in your cheeks
“Umm… I’m not sure if you’re free tomorrow, but if you are, I’m doin’ a breakfast with my friends at my place. You’re welcome to stop by.”
“Yeah?” He asks as he quirks an eyebrow. “You sure?”
“‘Course. Holidays suck alone.”
He bites his lip, contemplating your offer, the corners of his eyes creasing with the smile he’s holding back. “Might take you up on that, sweetheart.”
“Perfect,” you whisper. “What are you doing right now, cowboy?”
He throws his gaze away, laughing lightly at the title before returning his eyes to yours. “Nothin’. What do you have in mind?”
“Line dancin’ starts at eight…”
His face twists slightly, body turning away from you, toward the bar as to say ‘no.’ “Dancin’ is not really my thing,” he chuckles, nodding at Bonnie to come back down the line for another drink.
“Suit yourself,” you sing as you step off the barstool, leaning in slightly. “Enjoy your beer, handsome.”
The music shifts to something upbeat as you make your way toward your friends. The familiar rhythm takes over, and you go from one high with Rafe to the next. You shift your hips, moving your body to the beat.
One of the regulars steps in, Pope, a handsome rancher from down the way. He pulls you into his arms, whirling you around as he usually does.
You feel the heat of Rafe’s gaze from the bar. You glance over your shoulder for a moment—his eyes on yours, watching you with an unreadable expression. Before you can think about it much more, Pope twirls you under his finger, stealing your attention.
You feel a hand rest on your lower back, guiding you away, and you follow, slipping into Rafe's strong arms. He pulls you in close, arms wrapping around your body, lips curving into a grin.
“You dance?” You smile sweetly.
”Absolutely not,” he mumbles, his hold on you letting you know there was no way he would let you dance with anyone else tonight.
The music slows to something smoother. Rafe pulls you in close, the warmth of his big body sending shivers down your spine. You breathe in his scent—enveloped in his rich cologne, warm vanilla, and a hint of tobacco.
He matches your movements, shifting effortlessly with you as his rough hands roam your curves. “You’re pretty good at this,” you smile as you rest your hands on his chest, feeling his heart bang underneath.
“Don’t sound so surprised,” he mutters through a smile.
The space between you gets closer and closer; the heat of Rafe’s breath on your hot skin makes your heart race. And just like before, the two of you were lost in your own world, yanked out by a large hand on Rafe’s shoulder.
“You fuckin’ kidding me?”
You look around Rafe’s as JJ’s wild blue eyes dart between the two of you, narrowing on his fast.
“The fuck is this?” JJ asks as he pulls Rafe off you, shoving him back.
“Back off, JJ,” you hiss as you step between the two of them.
“Is he botherin’ you?” JJ asks, looking around your shoulder, focusing more on the new man trying to take you away and less on the fact that you wanted him to go.
“No, JJ. You are. Just fuckin’ leave.”
JJ dismisses you again, stepping around you to get in Rafe’s face. “You think you can just walk in here and take what’s mine?” JJ spits and swings his fist, nailing Rafe in the cheek. Rafe returns a blow, landing square on JJ’s jaw fast, sending him stumbling back with his face clutched in his hands.
You grab Rafe as the bouncer grabs JJ, pulling the two men apart as they shout over the music. “That’s enough, JJ,” you shout, JJ’s darkened eyes never leaving him—Rafe, glaring right back at JJ with a smirk on his face. “Not fuckin’ leavin’, cupcake.”
“You're done,” the bouncer warns as he tightens his grip on your ex, dragging him back.
“Let go of me, Shoupe,” JJ grunts as he fights against him.
“Come on, baby,” you whisper, the name pulling Rafe’s focus back to you in a second. He smiles down at you, his cheek gashed and bloodied as he wraps his big arm around your shoulders, following you to the office.
Rafe crashes down on the chair, kicking out his boots, shaking his hand, eyeing his swollen knuckles with a groan. “Let me see,” you whisper as you move closer, setting the first-aid kit on the desk before sitting on his lap.
You hook your finger under his chin to get a better look as Rafe wets his lip and smiles, his twinkling eyes finding yours. ”It’s nothin’,” he hums, but you clean it anyway, the tough guy only letting a hiss slip past his lips as the alcohol soaks his skin.
“You’re not the only one with an asshole ex,” you whisper as you lean in a little closer, Rafe’s arms finding their way around your waist again.
“Guess we got that in common, princess,” he breathes as his eyes fall down your body in his arms.
You cup his cheek in your soft hand, and he shuts his eyes, melting into your touch. Before you know it, his lips are on yours, deep and deliberate, slow and sensual, sending sparks straight through you as his tongue rolls with yours.
He groans into your mouth, and you moan into him, savoring the taste of his sweet lips. His big hand inches up your body, but you grab his wrist, guiding his hand to your tit. “Fuck, baby,” he moans as he squeezes. Your hand rests against his chest as your tongues reel, your nails scratching down. “Lower,” he rasps and smiles against your lips, your slight hand pushing against his stiff dick in his Levi’s, making your pussy ache.
“Wanna get out of here?” You whisper as you draw a breath, lips quickly finding him again. Rafe smiles against your mouth, taking your bottom lip between his as he sucks off slowly.
“Your place or mine?” He asks through a smile.
The two of you not so much as get to his truck before he’s on you again, kissing you passionately, your fingers finding the handle of the back seat, pulling him inside with a smile. And for the third time tonight, the rest of the world fades away. The dark parking lot is crammed with cars—your ex presumably close, but none of it matters but Rafe.
He pulls you on to straddle his lap, his big hands cupping your face as he strokes your soft skin; Rafe’s beautiful blue eyes stare back into yours as you breathe deeply together.
"Baby,” he stops you as you lean in for more, his rough thumb tracing your plump bottom lip. “Is this alright?” He asks sweetly as his eyes fall to your lips, catching the slight space between you, staring at your lips hungrily, desperate for more, but the well-mannered man in him forces him to ask.
“You really are a gentleman, aren’t you?” You tease as he takes off his hat, resting it on your head. You run your fingers through his soft hair as he tips his head back, melting into your touch.
“You can keep my hat on, princess,” he hums as he pulls you closer, his warm lips pressing against your neck, moving higher. “You hear me, sweetheart?” He asks needily as your hands trace down his broad chest, fingers falling to his belt.
“Think I owe you for takin’ care of my ex.” You bite your lip as you tug the leather belt through the loops.
“I don’t think so, baby doll,” he hums as he rubs his thumb across your shoulder, lowering one strap and the other. “I was just payin’ you back for the beer,” he whispers through a playful smirk. You reach up, pulling your shirt and bra down around your waist, making Rafe release a deep groan.
He leans in, pressing his lips against yours— hungry and possessive. Your tongue tangles with his, separating briefly to tear him out of his thin white shirt as his hands cups your chest, thumbs brushing across your nipples.
You wrap your hands around his neck, grinding into the rock-hard bulge in his jeans. He quickly reaches down, tugging them down his thighs. “Keep going,” you whisper and chuckle lustfully against your lips, pulling his boxers down as well.
Rafe slides down in the seat, slightly guiding your arousal-pooled panties right on top of his dick, taking his lip between his teeth, rocking your body onto him as his mouth devours yours.
His hands wrap around your back, slipping under your skirt to grip and knead your ass, pulling moan after moan from your lips. His stiff cock rubs against your clit, making you toss your head back at the delicious friction between your thighs.
Rafe buries himself in your neck, his warm breath hot against your skin as he breathes you in. “Fuck, I need you,” he mumbles against your neck before sinking his teeth into you growing impatient.
“I’m so wet for you, Rafe,” you sigh as you taunt him further, squealing as he slaps your ass roughly with a laugh.
“I know, baby,” he chides. “Goddamn, I fuckin know. Just give it to me—let me have it. Yeah?” Your hips continue to rut shamelessly against his pulsing cock, making him take what he needs himself.
Rafe reaches under your skirt, ripping one side of your panties and then the next, tossing the soaked lace to the floor with a sigh of relief as he grips his heavy cock with one hand, lifting your body right where he wants you with the other arm making you gasp.
Rafe’s lidded eyes connect with yours, lips falling open with his as he pushes inside you entirely. Your grip his shoulders, hands trembling as a deep groan thunders in his chest, feeling your warm, wet cunt wrap around him tight.
“All that teasin’ for what?” He pants with a smile as he leans into your lips, capturing your mouth in a tender kiss.
“Told you I was wet,” you whisper, and he chuckles as his work-worn fingers find your clit, making you gasp.
“Told you I knew,” he drawls as his soft lips brush against yours. “You gonna let me cum in this pretty pussy, sweetheart. Make you even wetter?” He asks as he grabs your hips again, guiding you to roll your body just like you were before.
“Sh-Shit,” you shutter shakily, never feeling something quite this deep. “Mhmm, daddy… You gonna take me home?” You ask as you feel his big cock fill you to the brim.
“Callin’ me daddy? Shit… You’re gonna get a lot more than that, princess,” he smiles as he lifts your hips, fucking up into your soaked hole. “You’re not gettin’ rid of me.” You throw your head back; his hat tumbles off, skin slapping against the skin as the windows of his truck start to fog up.
Your lips crash against his, kissing him with deeply, feeling yourself about to lose control. “Fuck, Rafe… M’close,” you whimper against his lips.
“Yeah?”
”Yeah,” you pant. Rafe grabs your body, using his hold and his muscle to bounce you on his cock, again and again, pounding your pussy with his thick dick. Your thighs tremble uncontrollably, warmth tightening around him. “Cum for me, pretty girl,” he groans. “Make a mess for me.”
Your pussy gushes and flutters around his big cock wetting his lap and his fingers.
“Atta, baby… Shittt,” he mumbles, hot against your skin. “Good fuckin’ girl,” he praises between rough thrusts, his orgasm coming fast and hard as he adds to the wet mess. The slick sounds of sex fill the cab— Rafe rocking to a stop between gentle kisses. He buries himself in your neck, pulling you into his heaving chest.
Rafe kisses your forehead—then your nose and your lips. “Goddamn,” he mumbles. “Let’s get you home, huh? Get you cleaned up.”
“Yeah, cowboy?” You ask breathily. Rafe kisses you again, lingering while your breathing slows together.
“Told you you’re not gettin’ rid of me, princess?”
#cowboy!rafe ִ ࣪𖤐.ᐟ#kinkmas event .𖥔 ݁ ˖❄️˚. ᵎᵎ#my library ᝰ.ᐟ#rafe one shot 𖤐ᝰ.ᐟ𖦹₊⊹#rafe cameron x reader#rafe#rafe smut
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i ❤️ tumblr !
#📖#it’s like my own little bat cave where i hang out with my super cool supernatural friends#friends being moots btw#and i can just reblog whatever scratches my brain#this site is like Autism hivemind i adore it
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Hero of Bombs - Isekai-ed Artist
WELP. Now I really am trapped in this AU XD I’m currently in Hebra on my way to the Wind Temple - that’s why they found me-Ansy (not DxP Ansy!) in the snow. 🌨️
Notes:
Not canon (or a much sillier AU of an AU)
Draws in a little pocket sketchbook 📖
Has other magic rods, but likes Sapphire best - freeze / flee & AOE ice cloud ❄️
Was most useful in Lanayru & the Water Temple (Opal Rod💧) - otherwise just forages for ingredients, cooks / crafts potions, & helps navigate 🗺️🌿
Hangs out with Ingo the most (Link wanders off a lot lol)
Since I wouldn’t last very long in a world without my medicine, I’m sure there was some kind of solution for that, like “Ansy found [Infinite Medicine] in her inventory!” or “Ansy’s health problems were all magically cured!” (if only 🥲) If all else fails, there’s always Fairies…? ouo;;
#hero of bombs#tears of the kingdom#submas au#zelda au#link#ingo#self insert#very silly#i had to do it#for the lolz#healer because my name means “resurrection” & I like home remedies / self help stuff#I can see myself taking up archery again too - one more way to survive so I can go home to my Deerling!#speaking of he got isekai-ed to Fire Emblem Engage lol
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⋆˚꩜🏕️。. ➢ ROUTE 101
𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓 a mha x reader gravity falls au ! -> ft.izuku midoriya, ochako uraraka, shoto todoroki, and denki kaminari ᨒ ོ ☼ prev ➢ m. list ➢ next ➢ 00 - welcome to gravity falls !
🌞 all the way from sunny california !


𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓 — 𝚒𝚣𝚞𝚔𝚞 𝚖𝚒𝚍𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚢𝚊
your best friend since childhood. little bit of a nerd, but loyal to a fault. always willing to go exploring. strong believer in anomalies and paranormal activity.
🌲 down to the sleepy town of gravity falls !




𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓 — 𝚘𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚔𝚘 𝚞𝚛𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚔𝚊
works a collection of odd jobs around town, but is most often found behind the register at the mystery shack. simultaneously has too much and never enough free time. enjoys rooftop stargazing (and ufo hunting).
𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓 — 𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚔𝚒 𝚔𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚛𝚒
cool guy that sometimes hangs out in the woods. went to high school with uraraka. religiously follows an anonymous podcast that keeps up with paranormal anomalies in gravity falls.
𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓 — 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚘𝚍𝚘𝚛𝚘𝚔𝚒
prodigal son of the todoroki family — the town’s founders and biggest business in the county. more thoughtful than often given credit for. not quiet — observant. near-unlimited resources, very limited freedom. minigolf enthusiast.
𒈔 ִ ࣪𓂀 𖤐 — journal entry 00:
everyone is 18, freshly graduated from high school and about to start college
izuku is (obviously) headed for stanford to study biology. it’s been his dream school since he was little.
denki wants to take a gap year to travel, but after that he wants to attend nyu for film! he wants to make thrillers :)
ochako is planning on attending community college and keeping her job at the mystery shack
shoto hasn’t broken it to his parents that he was accepted to a university abroad. they think he’s going to stay in gravity falls and take over the family business
aizawa is your mother’s cousin. he used to live in portland for school where he met hizashi before they got married and moved to gravity falls (hizashi’s hometown). you’ve visited a couple times before but you were very young and don’t remember any of it
izuku lives down the block from you. your parents are good friends and you two have been pretty much inseparable since kindergarten
📖 🪬🗝️ — from the author: heh >:) this one’s a lot of lore drop LMAOO apolocheese if it’s too much 💔 this is an incredibly self-indulgent thing that i’m really just doing to have fun n explore new storytelling tactics n aesthetics so i hope u guys have as much fun w this as i will!! lmk if u pick up on any of the easter eggs/references (to gf or anything else!) can u tell which characters are based on who?? >:)
© kitkat13001 ➢ do not copy, translate, repost etc
taglist: @ceecilya @n3r0-5352 @taxavoider @bloomness @deadhands69 @bowtiepasta @hydeonysus @bloodb3nders @fellowchickennugget @keeeenbeeaan @boreaswrites @bangersplusmash @crushmeeren @agirlenchanted @biodegradablevagina @xoyuji @zukiiiiiiiii @teeesthings @tv-gh0st @reality1escaping @candiiee @bitchyfestivalbouquet (ask/comment to be added!)
#smalltown usa 🌲✶⋆.˚#mha x reader#gravity falls au#izuku midoria x reader#ochako uraraka x reader#denki kaminari x reader#shoto todoroki x reader#mha smau#kitty.writes!#mha#bnha#izuku midoriya#shoto todoroki#denki kaminari#ochako uraraka#deku x reader#uraraka x reader#todoroki x reader#denki x reader#graphics by kitty ; dividers by @saradika-graphics
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kari yaps. giving yall an angsty dean blurb that i couldn't get out of my head <3 miss my baby smookums so much.
warning(s) smut | strong language | situationship | angst | s1 DEAN | abandonment | self loathing. ୨୧ eighteen plus! adult content | minors do NOT interact.
📖 JACKLES library.
it wasn't supposed to be like this with dean. casual was what you both strictly agreed on — no strings attached, no feelings involved. just two hunters finding respite in each other whenever paths crossed. that was the deal.
but here you are, straddling him in another stuffy motel room, his calloused hands gripping your hips as you ride him slowly. the dim lamplight casts shadows across his freckled face, highlighting every expression of pleasure that crosses his features. dean's breathing is ragged, green eyes half-lidded as he watches you move above him.
you lean down, pressing your palms against his rough ones, intertwining your fingers together. the new angle makes him groan, head throwing back against the pillow. his grip on your hands tightens, and you can feel the trembling in his muscles as he fights to maintain control.
"fuck," he breathes out, voice wrecked. "you feel so good, sweetheart. s'perfect..."
you increase your pace slightly, watching as he falls apart underneath you. DEAN WINCHESTER — the notorious hunter, the man who's faced down demons and monsters — coming undone by your touch alone. his walls are down completely, vulnerability written across his face in a way you've never seen before.
that's when it happens.
"i love you," he gasps out, the words tumbling from his lips before he can stop them.
you freeze mid-movement, staring down at him with wide eyes. the confession hangs heavy in the air between you, and you watch as realization dawns on his face. dean's hands suddenly release yours, gripping the cheap motel sheets instead, knuckles turning white with the force of his grip.
"what?" your voice is barely above a whisper.
he won't meet your eyes anymore, jaw clenched tight as he stares at some point over your shoulder. the silence stretches on, broken only by your shared breathing and the distant sound of traffic outside. you're still connected intimately, but the moment has shifted into something else entirely — something neither of you were prepared for.
without warning, his hands move to your waist. those strong arms that you've admired countless times before easily lift you off of him, setting you gently on the bed beside him. you watch as he sits up, running a hand through his disheveled spiky hair before reaching down to grab his discarded boxers from the floor.
"dean, hold up—" you start, but he's already heading for the bathroom, not looking back as he closes the door with a soft click.
you lie there in the silence, staring up at the water-stained ceiling. your mind replays his words over and over, trying to make sense of what just happened. dean winchester loves you.
DEAN WINCHESTER — who keeps everyone at arm's length, who builds walls higher than heaven itself — just confessed his love for you in the most vulnerable moment possible.
and you? you don't know what to feel. this wasn't part of the plan. feelings weren't supposed to enter the equation, but here they are, complicated and messy and real.
you can hear him moving around in the bathroom, probably trying to compose himself. knowing dean, he's probably gripping the sink, staring at his reflection, and beating himself up over his slip of the tongue. that's just who he is — taking every perceived failure and turning it into self-loathing.
the thought of facing this conversation, of dealing with the aftermath of those three beautiful words, suddenly feels overwhelming. you slip out of the bed, quickly gathering your scattered clothes and pulling them on. your hands are shaking slightly as you find a piece of paper and pen from the motel's complimentary notepad.
that's all you write before placing it on the rumpled bed. it's cowardly, you know it is, but you can't face him right now. not when everything is so confused and tangled in your mind.
you're just closing the motel room door when you hear the bathroom door open. you don't stay to see his reaction, but you can picture it perfectly — dean walking out, preparing himself to bare his soul to you, only to find an empty room and a note in your place.
you know it'll hurt him. know that he'll blame himself, add it to the long list of things he carries on his shoulders. but you can't give him what he wants right now, can't pretend those words didn't change everything.
as you walk to your car, you can almost hear him in that room — probably throwing something in frustration, cursing himself for ruining what you had. classic dean winchester, turning his pain inward, letting it eat at him.
but sometimes running is easier than staying, even when you know it'll leave scars on both of you that might never fully heal.
#kari ♡ writes.#dean winchester#dean winchester blurb#dean x female!reader#dean winchester one shot#dean winchester x fem reader#dean x y/n#dean x reader#dean winchester imagines#dean angst#dean winchester angst#dean winchester smut#dean smut#dean imagine#dean x you#supernatural#supernatural x reader#supernatural x female reader
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𝐇𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐂𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐥 𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞...
— by little devil 🕯️
pairing: castiel x she/her reader
tone: angelic awkwardness, holy fluff, tragic beauty, tender devotion
genre: canon-compliant headcanon list told through mini fanfiction scenes
rating: pg-13 for themes of eternity, gentle touches, and celestial simping
synopsis: loving an angel isn’t like loving a person—it’s like being seen for the first time in your whole damn life.
🌌 Endless, Unwavering Staring
You’ve asked him why he does it. The staring.
He tilts his head, confused.
“You are… captivating,” he says. “I’m literally brushing my teeth, Cas.” “Yes. I am aware.”
No matter the time, the place, or the state of your bedhead, Castiel stares at you like you are the only thing keeping the universe from crumbling. And maybe—just maybe—you are.
📿 That Old Testament Flavor of Devotion
He doesn’t love like a man. He loves like a declaration.
“I would fall again,” he says, quiet, sure. “For you. If Heaven demanded otherwise—I would choose you.”
You freeze, soup spoon halfway to your mouth.
“Cas. I’m just sick. You don’t have to make it biblical.”
But that’s the thing. With Castiel, everything is.
☁️ Trying to Teach Him Pop Culture with Deeply Mixed Results
“That is… a SpongeBob.” “Correct!” “He lives in a fruit?” “Technically a sea sponge in a pineapple under the sea, yeah.” “This is absurd.” “…You love it.” “…I do.”
He once recited “the Krabby Patty secret formula is love” during a demon interrogation. Dean still hasn’t recovered.
🕰️ Being Gently Out of Step with Time but Always on Time for You
He doesn’t sleep, doesn’t eat, doesn’t really understand mortality.
But somehow, he always knows when your hands start shaking, when the nightmares hit, when the weight of everything becomes too much.
“You do not need to be strong tonight,” he murmurs, wrapping his coat around you. “Just rest. I will carry it for now.”
🕊️ Accidentally Saying the Most Romantic Things in the Universe
Like, he really doesn’t mean to go so hard. He’s just… built that way.
“I studied your soul once,” he tells you one night, voice low and reverent. “It’s brighter than anything I’ve seen in Heaven.”
You: 🧍♀️ Also you: dead on the floor, heart exploded, ascended to the astral plane
🔥 Moments of Terrifying, Blazing Power—But He’ll Never Hurt You
When Cas is angry, the air changes.
Demons scatter. Lights flicker. The Earth holds its breath.
But when he looks at you?
His hands shake, soft and unsure, wings tucked in like he’s afraid of brushing against your light.
“Even at my most powerful,” he whispers, “you make me feel… human.”
🥪 Trying Human Things Just Because You Like Them
He doesn’t need food. But when you offer him a bite of your sandwich, he takes it.
Chews.
Blushes.
“This is... pleasant.” “It’s grilled cheese, babe.” “Then I would like… more grilled cheese. With you.”
He eats it awkwardly, angelic hands too big for the plate, and you have never loved anyone more.
📖 Reading Scripture and Lore with You—and Occasionally Correcting It
He reads over your shoulder, brow furrowed.
“That’s… not accurate.” “What, this Latin exorcism?” “No, the depiction of Uriel. He wasn’t nearly that tall. Or kind.” “Cas, it’s fanfiction.” “It is… fanfiction of Heaven?” “Yeah. And apparently Gabriel's hot now.” “…He will be insufferable when he finds out.”
🌿 Flowers Left in Strange Places
He doesn’t buy bouquets. He materializes them.
Sometimes it’s a single daisy on your dashboard. Sometimes an entire garden blooms outside your motel room.
“I thought you needed… beauty.” “Cas. You made tulips grow in the carpet.” “Do you like them?” “…Yeah, actually.”
💬 Deep Conversations at Inconvenient Hours
You: half-asleep at 2am Cas: watching the ceiling
“Y/N, do you believe fate can be rewritten?” “Cas it is literally 2—” “If I was made for obedience… then why do I desire free will with you?” “…Okay hang on let me get tea.”
🕯️ Making You Feel Like a Living Prayer
When Castiel touches you—your hand, your cheek, your waist—it’s not just affection. It’s reverence.
“You are not just a person to me,” he confesses, voice low. “You are… a beacon. Something sacred.”
You’ve been many things. But never sacred. Until now.
🌟 Wings Unfurled Only for You
You ask him to show you once. He hesitates.
“They are… damaged.” “So am I,” you reply. “Doesn’t mean I’m not beautiful.”
He unfolds them in the dark—burned, broken, glorious.
You swear you can feel them against your skin like the warmth of a dying star.
𓆩☁️𓆪 Castiel loves like cathedral bells in the distance, like the hush after prayer, like starlight on skin.
He does not know how to love halfway. He only knows forever. And he chose you.
𓆩☁️𓆪
#supernatural#supernatural fanfiction#spn imagines#supernatural imagines#supernatural x reader#supernatural family#spnfandom#spn#spn imagine#sam and dean#team free will#castiel one shot#castiel smut#castiel x oc#castiel x reader#castiel supernatural#castiel spn#castiel novak#cas x y/n#cas x reader#castiel x y/n#castiel x you#supernatural cw#cas supernatural
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1st century roman siege of jerusalem dashboard simulator

🐮 barkamtza
why does this shit always happen to me
#oh my goddd the ONE time it seems like people actually wanna hang out with me. #turns out they meant to invite kamtza instead #everyone hates me and i was SO fucking nice i offered to pay for the party #god i'm so pathetic. kms kms kms #they're gonna pay for this i swear #delete later
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📜 zekharya-ben-avkolas
Ok so obv it's not ok to sacrifice a blemished calf but the blemish is just on the eyelid? So maybe it's ok? But also and i don't want people to start going around thinking that it's ok to sacrifice blemished animals. But the thing is that if i don't bar Kamtza will tell the Romans we insulted them and that will be bad probably. And like no one likes bar Kamtza anyway will people really miss him..... but ugh neither of these seem like good things to do i don't feel like it's my place to make a decision about this :/
32 notes

🏛 vespasian reblogged

🏺neronero
off to war wish me luck! 🇲🇪🏹

🏺neronero
nvm guys. ✡️✡️

🏛 vespasian
my turn lol
53 notes

🧑🏽🦳 not-an-airport reblogged

🧑🏽🦳 not-an-airport
Hey everyone! These are difficult times, and some friends and I have put together some mutual aid resources for our community to have access to wheat, barley, wine, salt, oil, and wood! More info below the cut. Take care of yourselves! 🫶
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🧑🏽🦳 not-an-airport
fuck
7,235 notes

⚔️ biryonei-yerushalayim
anonymous asked:
Hey, I'm trying to ask this in good faith, and I hope you can take it that way. how can you possibly defend burning our grain stores. I understand that you want to radicalize more people but you're taking things too far. Jerusalem's blood is on your hands.
anon, what you need to understand is that the blame for the carnage in jerusalem lies primarily in the hands of the roman invaders and secondarily in the hands of the rabbis for refusing to resist. would you have told the hashmonaim not to resist their oppressors by any means necessary? just because this is getting inconvenient for you doesn't mean we shouldn't be doing it. it's frankly offensive that you'd imply that we, the defenders of jerusalem, should incur any blame for her current state.
#biryonim.answer #grain storage discourse
231 notes

🛡 goel-yisrael
did anyone else see the "zealot blocklist" going around lmaooo
#how do these liberals expect anyone to take them seriously #do they not have anything better to do.
7 notes

📚 stammaim reblogged

stopbeingpoor-deactivated3830102
ughh why is my servant so incompetent! i deserve the best flour why doesn't he get it...

stopbeingpoor
ykw i'll go get some myself. i'm desperate at this point i gotta do something

stopbeingpoor
EWWWW update: i stepped in something NASTY. this is why i don't fucking go out oh my god im gonna die

stopbeingpoor
gonna throw my gold & silver away for the good of the peasants or whatever it's not like it's any use to me when im literally dying -_-

📚 stammaim
lmao look at this it's exactly what yehezkel was talking about! ur gold won't save you!
#yehezkel #marta b. baitos
162 notes

🕎 yalla-hapoel
🌿 amicus-iudaeorum asked:
Hey, love your posts! They're very informative about the Jewish perspective on this war. I'm just wondering whether you condemn the actions of the zealots? I don't really feel comfortable following someone who supports that.
are you fr.
#if youre seriously concerned about this idt this is the blog for you i fear
28 notes

🛡 goel-yisrael reblogged

📖 ben-zakkai
⚰️⚰️⚰️⚰️ lol

🛡 goel-yisrael
? what does this mean

🗡 abbasikkara
dw about it bestie

🛡 goel-yisrael
ok 💗 yay 💗
6 notes

👩🏽🌾 discoursedumpblog
I've compiled a list of some of the most rabid zealots on this website. Remember, don't engage, just block and move on.
Read more
152 notes

🏛 vespasian reblogged

🏛 vespasian
some jew got an audience with me & called me king (im literally not lol thats so disrespectful to the actual king + if i was king then he shouldve met w me much earlier??), i think i should kill him

🏛 vespasian
AND my shoe is being so annoying. horrible day 👎

📖 ben-zakkai
omg just came across this old post

🏛 vespasian
OMG sorry i don't mean it anymore 🙏
14 notes

🫒 a-simple-yid
yirmiyahu tzadak...
#not to pretentiously quote tanakh but literally like. #hashiveinu hashem eilekha venashuva hadeish yameinu kekedem.
3 notes
#this doesnt make sense in terms of timeline of course. esp bc i mention the stammaim. but it's ok#long post#jumblr#txt#this is all entirely gemara-based tbc. gittin 55b–56b#you all better appreciate the effort that went into this
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Text
Sugar
Bang Chan x AFAB! Reader Synopsis: Chan takes care of his baby girl. Warnings: SMUT, unprotected p in v (wrap it before you tap it! Be safe!) Oral (both receiving), fingering, mutual masturbating, teasing, car sex, use of pet name (kitten, baby girl, daddy), sex outside, aftercare. A/N: I hope you enjoy. Y/D/C = Your dream car. Requests are OPEN just slow due to life. 🎬Please do silence your phones, grab some popcorn🍿 and a fluffy blanket and enjoy the chapter📖



You wake up, the feeling of soft Egyptian cotton wrapping around your body along with the warmth of the sun shining in through the window. The clock reads eight a.m. and the soft snoring of the man next to you is indicator that Chan wasn’t going into the studio today and that meant one thing.
It’s pickup day!
You roll to your side, weaving your freshly light pink manicured nails through his dark hair; watching him sleep was one of your favorite things. The way his mouth would lay slightly open, a little bit of drool dripping hanging down from his soft plump lips, the way his eyes flutter when he dreams, the way he just looked like an angel when he was finally sound asleep.
He stirred slightly under your touch, your hand stopping its movement briefly until he was still again. You may have been Chan’s baby, but he was yours right back, even if you did call him Daddy. Most days he took care of you, per your agreement and something he expressed he wanted to do. But there were moments you took care of him. Running him baths, rubbing his aching back after a particularly grueling show or video shoot, sucking him off after a hard day and hearing him purr your name; those nights were your favorite.
His eyes flutter open, as he hums at the way your nails slightly massage his scalp. You smile at him, a look of devotion and bliss evident in your gaze.
“Good morning, beautiful,” he says leaning over to capture your sweet lips in a kiss.
“Morning, Channie,” you kiss his lips affectionately. The morning is still, calm, and the two of you feel as though you have nothing but time. Chan rolls you onto your back, lips still connected and you can feel him pressing into your thigh. You giggle against him as his hands find your hips and his tongue swipes your bottom lip. You moan against him as he smirks against your lips.
Your nails lightly scratch down the front of his bare toned chest.
“We need to get to the dealership by 10,” you mumble against his lips. Chan pulls away reluctantly.
“We got over an hour,” he smirks before attacking your neck. You let out a full-blown laugh as his lips tickle your neck.
“I need to shower, Daddy,” you mumble as his lips hit the top of your cleavage with your hands weaving through his hair. Chan bites the inside of his cheek at the name. Calling him daddy was never about being a child; it’s because of how he takes care of you and cherishes you. He makes sure you have the finest things in life. Makes sure you’re taken care of above all else, even himself.
You want new clothes, say the word. A new makeup product, just tell him how much it is and you’ll have it as soon as he can get it to you, or a new car? Just mention the make and model and he’ll be on his phone within the hour looking them up.
His only rule? That he gets to see you wear it or in it while he fucks you dumb.
That’s what you’re doing today. You had mentioned a couple months ago how you wanted a y/d/c since you were a teenager. And like the good daddy Chan is, he made it happen; even had it customized to everything you wanted.
You hop in the shower, Chan not far behind you. Thankfully, the shower is big enough for two shower heads so no one freezes.
“Are you excited?” Chan asks as he peppers kisses down your neck onto your shoulder as the water hits your naked bodies.
“Very, I can’t wait to see the lights and the interior.” He hums against your skin. The man can’t help it; he’s obsessed with you.
Your skin tingles in his wake, your turn around in his embrace, kissing his lips again, as your arms go around his neck, his arms around your waist.
“Quickie before we go?” He asks.
“Ah, ah, ah, you’ll get all the time you want with me in the new car.” You tease. Chan knows the money isn’t the only thing keeping you around, however when the two of you first entered the arrangement, that was a big part of it. Chan was always a gentlemen, paying for your meals or things you mentioned you wanted, but when one drunken kiss turned into a night of mind-blowing sex, he propositioned you for the role of being his baby, his sugar baby.
While you didn’t technically live with Chan in name, you basically did. He had more of your things in his mansion than what you downtown apartment did. Clothes, make up, appliances, etc. were all neatly stored around the house. Chan made the comment it would be easier since you were there constantly anyway.
Chan lathers the soap onto the cloth, washing over you back and the backs of your arms, the soap gliding onto your skin and staining it with the fragrant smell.
“Turn,” he instructs and you do so, closing your eyes at the way it feels to have the soap lathered onto your body, the steam from the shower rising up and the feel of Chan’s hands being on your body, taking care of you. He drags the rag down your torso, carefully scrubbing at your legs and feet to wash them thoroughly.
Once he’s finished, you grab his rag and repeat the actions, washing him clean, his neck, down to his broad shoulders, over his chest and abs, feeling him up a little as you do so, his muscles tensing under your touch. Bending down to his somewhat hard member you carefully place a chase kiss to it, just to tease him, before running the cloth of over it, then continuing down his body.
“Turn,” you instruct as you’re crouched, his ass coming into full view. You smirk before you get a bright idea.
You sink your teeth into the flesh before placing a kiss over the mark and wipping the cloth over the swell of his ass.
He jumps, sucking in a harsh breath as he feels a slight sting from the mark. You chuckle to yourself.
“You’ll think it’s funny when it’s my turn,” he smirks cockily. You gulp, a small rush of heat flooding to your core.
You stand up, both of you rinsing the soap off your bodies and washing your hair.
You get yourselves dressed, Chan growling lowly in approval over your outfit of choice. He insists you wear skirts, something you don’t mind doing one bit, especially when you know it’s because he wants access to the lovely garden between your legs.
You get into the uber Chan set up for you and your legs shakes with excitement. Chan’s hand places itself over your thigh, not to stop you, but just to touch you. To be near you. You smile at him, butterflies in your stomach as the anticipation builds.
-
At the dealership the salesman takes you to the back, you squeal as soon as you see it.
The light pink car of your dreams before you.
“Oh, Daddy it’s perfect!” You fling yourself onto him, arms wrapping around his neck. He stumbles just a tad from how hard you hug him.
“I’m glad you love it baby. Check out the inside,” he smiles as you detach yourself, watching as your heels carry you to the car, the sway of your ass causing him to bite his lip.
You open the door, the full pink interior causing you to gasp.
“Come here!” You call him over in child like excitement. He smiles shaking his head at how adorable you are right now. He goes to the opposite side of the car, opening the door. You grin at him from ear to ear from the driver’s side. He looks around, taking in the vivacious interior.
“It’s beautiful baby. Is it what you wanted?”
“Everything and more,” your eyes are big and wanderlust.
“The lights!” you gasp as you notice the little twinkly lights installed in the roof.
“Channie, they’re beautiful!” you say as you inspect them.
“Let’s get in, see how it feels.” He smiles. You hop into the driver’s seat, pressing the button to start the car. The windows are tinted so no one can see in, making the lights on the roof shine just a little brighter.
You both buckle up, and you put your foot on the gas, pulling out of the dealer ship. What you don’t see is the look of pride on Chris’s face as he watches you drive the very thing he could buy to make you happy. He’s not proud of himself, no, he’s proud of you. His baby, his precious girl who has worked so hard to take care of him and love him even when it’s not been easy. Even when he’s away for months at a time for concerts. You didn’t complain, while you did pout that you missed him, it wasn’t to make him feel bad. It was just you expressing yourself and how much you missed him and desired him, and not just for the sexual aspect. You genuinely enjoy spending time with Chan, with the close age range you share a lot in common and share many similar interests. He hooks up his phone to Bluetooth, playing soft music for the background noise before he takes a couple pictures of you driving the car. You giggle as you hear the camera noise on his phone. He makes the picture the wallpaper on his home screen, proudly.
You get to a red light and Chan’s hand sneaks it’s way to your thigh. You feel heat flood straight to your stomach as you glance down. It’s idle, sweet, comforting even, but you know him. He’s not always a patient man and he loves to tease. The light turns green and you’re pressing the gas pedal, feeling Chan’s hand move up your thigh until it’s at the top of it.
You bite your lip as his fingers ghost over your clothed core.
“Daddy,” you mumble out.
“Just keep driving baby.” He chuckles. His fingers gently rub you over your underwear, little shock waves of pleasure already being felt.
“Daddy, I can’t focus,” you whine as your hips shift.
“Yes, you can,” he says seductively. His fingers press harder, a moan slipping from you lips in reaction as your body slumps forward a bit. He chuckles as his fingers move your underwear aside. He spreads your folds open, collecting a little bit of your slick from your entrance.
“Been thinking about fucking you in this car since I woke up,” he says. You bite down on your lip harder. He slides his fingers back up, lubing the area of your clit to rub tight circles.
“Oh fuck,” you gasp as his hand moves.
“Feel good, baby?” Chan asks cockily; he already knows the answer.
You whimper in response as your hands white knuckle the wheel.
“So good,” you breathe out.
“You wanna cum while you drive?” Chan’s leaning over the console, whispering your ear, kissing on your neck.
“I’ll crash,” you whimper out as he sucks and licks over the spot below your ear.
“Put it in self-driving mode,” he whispers darkly.
“H- fuck, how?” your hips grind against his hand.
“It’s a button on the wheel.” You glance down as you come to a red light. You press the button, hands still on the wheel for safety.
“Fuck I can’t wait to bury myself deep inside your pretty, tight, pussy. Feel you squeeze me, hear you moan my name like it’s the only thing you know.” He groans as he feels his erection grow, reaching his other hand down to palm himself. You watch as the car drives itself, pleasure firing off at every spot of your body.
“Hands off, sweet girl,” he instructs before licking the shell of your ear. You gently let go, riding along smoothly as the car takes over.
Chan moves your chair back, allowing him just enough room to slip down between you and the wheel.
He places kisses to the inside of your thigh.
“Eyes on the road, baby.” He playfully scolds with a light smack to your hips. The slight sting catching your attention.
“The driver must remain alert.” He instructs before flipping your skirt up, and tapping your hips for you to raise them. He slides your panties off, throwing them in the seat beside you.
He moans at the sight of you, the faux leather seat beneath you a cold contrast to your warm skin. Chan takes his time, kissing and teasing around your wet cunt, feeling you push your hips to him ever so slightly. He flattens his tongue, spreads your folds and licks a wet stripe up your pussy, using the tip of his tongue to flick your little bundle of nerves.
“Oh, fuck,” your eyes flutter shut. Chan smacks your hip.
“Eyes open, or you have to drive,” he commands.
He knows you too well.
You force your eyes open as he sucks your bud into his mouth, sucking harshly as you choke out another gasp mingled moan, hands flying to his shoulders as you arch forward.
“Fuck, daddy,” you breathe out. You undo the seat belt allowing our pelvis to move a little more freely.
You stop at a red light, cars on either side of you, you get a little embarrassed.
“They can’t see you, kitten,” he says sensing the emotion in your body with how stiff it becomes. How does he read you like a book? He laps at your clit, inserting a finger. Your back arches off the seat as your head falls back, feeling him hit that spongey little spot in side your entrance that causes nothing but pure bliss to explode within you.
“Oh fuck, faster, harder,” you say as your hips shift to meet his thrusts.
“Aww, baby, we’re just getting started. You think you’re gonna cum all ready?” He coo’s mockingly.
“Daddy please, I’ve been good.” You whimper as you can feel him slow his thrusts.
“Oh, have you?”
He pulls his face from you, causing you to whine as he flips your skirt back down.
“I think you deserve a little bit of a punishment, after all, you’ve left a little mark on me.” He smirks and you pout.
“But Daddy,” you whine as he slips into the passenger side seat. He pulls your panties to his nose, inhaling your scent before a growl erupts from his throat.
“Fuck you make punishing you so hard.”
Your thighs squeeze together.
“Ah,” he tuts, “Don’t even try it, if you earn it, I’ll make sure you cum.” He promises.
You sit in the seat, aching between your thighs, eyes glancing over to his crotch, the outline of his cock noticeable. Chan smirks as he see’s your eyes looking at him, your tongue darting out to wet your lips. Chris decides to tease you a little more.
You watch as his hand moves to unbutton the button on his vest, exposing his abs. Your mouth parts slightly as he reclines the seat just enough to show you his abs, his hand palming his cock through his pants. His eyes shut as he moans and your thighs squeeze together, unfortunately not offering any relief. Your hands twitch at your sides, desperate as you continue to ache and the sounds of your boyfriend only make your core tingle and drench more.
Chan’s mouth parts his head digging into the headrest some as he continues his assault. He can feel your eyes on him. He sticks his hand down his pants, teasing himself. You whimper in response, his head angles towards you as he unbuttons his pants.
“Aww, does my baby want my hard cock?” he mocks. You nod sheepishly, thighs once again rubbing together.
“Touch yourself for me then.” He instructs and your brows shoot up. Usually, Chris is the one who gets you off, he rarely lets you do the honors, half the time you’re punished if he finds out you touched yourself. Your hand snakes down and flips up your skirt, slowly rubbing quick little circles on your bud.
“Ah, slowly,” he says as he pulls his cock out. You do as he says, moving your fingers torturously slow.
“I want more,” you groan.
“Be patient,” he tuts as his finger teases his slit and he growls.
“Fuck,” he shouts, hand going to the head rest gripping it with white knuckles.
You whimper, your hips rocking at the movement from your finger. Chan’s hand speeds up, and you feel your core pulsing as your heart beats in your chest, breathing shallow. He whimpers, body twitching in pleasure. His breathing becomes shallow, pants as he chokes out moans before his stomach is painted white. He groans as he comes up down from the high.
“Stop,” he commands letting himself go as the car turns into the driveway of the large home.
“Finally,” you sigh. You get the car door opened, only to have Chan reach across you to shut it.
“Back seat. Now.” He commands and his eyes are dark. His voice dripping with need, causing your sweet garden down below to become drenched. You climb back first, his hand slapping your ass causing a slight sting. You yelp as your sit in the spacious back seat of the car. You watch as Chan climbs in behind you, caging your body in.
Your hands automatically reach for his cock; you lick your lips as it’s practically dripping with arousal.
He slaps your hand away and you pout.
“Ask nicely,” he smirks.
“Daddy, please, I wanna taste.” He pretends to think about it for a minute.
“Do you deserve my cock?”
“Yes,” you nod enthusiastically
“Yes, what?”
“Yes sir,” you whimper out, hips grinding down against the seat.
“Aww, my poor baby,” he mocks, “So desperate. To think I bought you a car and it’s still not enough,” you close your eyes embarrassment evident on your face.
“Being greedy isn’t healthy,” he teases but he see’s as your hips keep digging down into the seat, aching for relief.
“Ok, come here,” he says as he positions himself against the light pink leather and the back door. You lick your lips in anticipation. Your heart is already beating out of your chest as you sink down.
“Spit,” he commands. You gather it up in your mouth, spitting on the tip before licking a stripe up his shaft.
“Oh fuck,” he groans. You whimper as your thighs clench so hard they hurt. You wrap your pretty glossed lips around his head, swirling your tongue over it, teasingly.
“Fuck you look so pretty like that,” he breathes out as he looks down at you. You look up at him through your lashes just before sinking down slowly. Chan lets out a guttural moan, his cock already twitching. You begin to bob your head slowly using the one hand that isn’t used for bracing to massage his balls.
“Oh fuck, baby, yeah just like that, don’t stop. Hollow out your cheeks for me,” he breathes, a hand finding the back of your head as a guide.
You do as he says, hollowing out your cheeks, picking up the pace as you taste more and more of the saltiness on your tongue.
“Fuck I’m gonna cum,” he whimpers out eyes screwed tight. You breathe through your nose as you sink down completely taking him in. His hips shift upwards to meet you, a slight gagging being heard.
“Fuck baby, ‘m sorry.” He apologizes but the pleasure is too good, he’s too far gone.
“Fuck, keep going, I’m so close. Fuck you’re doing so good. Be my good girl and make me cum, fuck make me cum,” he instructs as his head hits against the window. The windows of the car are beginning to fog; Chan’s breathing coming out in harsh pants. You go as fast as you can, trying to push him over the edge.
His body tenses with one last swirl of your tongue over his slit, the salty taste of his cum shooting coating your throat, you continue to pump slowly, helping him ride the wave of aftershock, his legs slightly trembling. You swallow every bit that he gives you, and you let go of him with a little ‘pop’. You wipe your lip with the back of your hand and after a swift moment of catching his breath, Chan’s pulling you up to him, kissing your lips fervently.
“Fuck you’re such a good girl, did so good for me,” he says against your lips and you blush against him. You whimper in response, a whimper falling from your lips as your body feels like it’s on fire.
“Lay back,” he says and helps you adjust, so your head is on the seat. Chan moves his body to the floor once he scoots the seat up giving him extra room down on his knees.
“Smell so good,” he mumbles as he nears your dripping cunt.
“Aww, my baby needs me, doesn’t she?” You nod as you watch him.
“Take off the top.” He points to it and you do so, slipping it over your head. He helps you take off the bra that matches your discarded panties.
“Fuck you’re so pretty,” he breathes. You slip the skirt off, fully bare before him. He kisses your lips once more before immediately trailing hickies down your neck and collar bone, teeth sinking into the flesh, tongue lapping at the newly forming bruises.
“So pretty when I mark you,” he moans.
“So pretty,” he murmurs again before forming his lips wrap around one of your pebbled buds, flicking his tongue over it, the pleasure shooting straight to your core. You wine as your fingers travel to his hair.
“Fuck,” your hips attempt to grind against him, but he holds them down.
“I’m gonna make you feel good, I promise. Just let me take my time.” He smiles before attaching to the other one, giving it the same treatment. Your body arches into him as you tug on the ends of his hair.
He captures the bud between his teeth, applying just the slightest amount of pressure and you gasp as your eyes roll back in your head. Chan smiles to himself as he lets his hand run down your side.
“You want my mouth, pretty girl?” He asks; as if it’s a real question.
“Yes, please, daddy. Want you to make me feel so good,” your voice is weak, almost wrecked already and he chuckles before kissing your sweet lips.
“Already babbling and I haven’t even made you cum once.” He teases before getting on his knees. He licks a stripe up your leaking hole collecting your arousal on his tongue before mercilessly lapping at your button.
“Oh fuck, not so fast!” you gasp as you hold onto his hair like an anchor.
Chan slows his movements a little, not wanting to hurt you, but continues with fairly brisk movements.
“Oh fuuuhuck,” you moan out as you’re your knees bend up slightly. Your thighs squeeze his head, he takes it an encouragement to continue.
“I’m gonna cum,” you whimper as you feel the coil tightening.
“Fuck, please don’t stop,” you pant out. Chan adds two fingers, curling them and making the ‘come hither’ motion hitting your g spot.
“Ah, shit, baby. Fuck, Daddy please, harder,” you gasp between words as your back arches off the seat as your hips desperately try to chase the high Chan wants to provide.
You pant harder as it approaches.
“Fuck, ah,” you gasp as your walls clamp down around his fingers.
“Cum for me, princess. Let me taste it.” He coos. That’s all it takes, your body reacts, euphoria bursting through you as your muscles go stiff body shaking from the velocity of the explosion. Your toes curl in your heels as your body arches off the seat once again, thighs trembling as they become earmuffs for Chan’s head. Your thighs release his head, as he continues his assault with his tongue, the over stimulation causing your hips to jerk in response and whines to fall from your lips.
“Ah, fuck, too much, Daddy,” you whimper, tears in your eyes from the pleasure.
“Fuck, please,” you try to push his head away.
“One more for me princess, one more, you can do it. Be my good girl and give me one more.”
Your chest heaves.
“yes sirrr- fuck!” you shriek as his tongue moves lightening quick, your thighs shaking as your orgasm builds quickly. Your gasping deep and hard, your breath escaping your lungs as your body begins to feel light and reality becomes a little blurry.
“Ah, ah, fuck, I’m cumming,” you whimper as your body locks up and shakes underneath his tongue. Your face is scrunched, mouth agape, a sight Chan wishes he could photograph and keep in his wallet.
Finally, after a moment, your body releases you, your thighs release Chan’s head once again and you heave as you try to catch your breath.
“So good for me,” he coos as he kisses your torso; feeling it grow as you take deep breathes.
“Felt so good, so so good, Daddy, want more, want more of you, wanna be your good girl,” you mumble, slightly gone and he shushes you.
“Shh, baby. I’m here,” he smiles as he holds you close for a minute.
“You want my cock? Hmm?” he mumbles in your ear. Too overstimulated for words, you nod, your body becoming tired.
“Come on,”
He helps you out of the car, this is a moment where you’re grateful for the small forest in front of his house; no one can see you. Chan sets you up on the hood of the car, the metal warm from the sun.
“Not too hot is it?” He asks, ready to pick you up at a moment’s notice.
You shake your head no, still exhausted. He kisses your lips, tongue massaging yours as your chests are pressed flush against one another.
“One more? If you want it,” you nod as he lays you back on the hood of the car, pumping himself a few times to get ready. He lines himself up, your mouth parting as he slides in.
“Oh, God yes,” you moan, Chan echoing your sounds as he feels your walls slick and tight around him.
“Fuck you’re so tight.” He groans. He stills for a moment, making sure you’re ok before slamming his hips into yours, your body bouncing up against the paint from his thrusts.
“Fuck, you feel so good, gonna fill me up,” you moan out, delirious from pleasure. Chan grunts, a sense of pride being found within him at the way he’s got you melting beneath him. He slams his hips into you harder, hitting your sweet spot with each thrust, his own orgasm coiling quickly.
“Shit, shit, shit, Daddy,” you whimper, “harder, faster,” you beg, tears in your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you. Chan speeds up, his body begging to give out, but he won’t stop until his baby is satisfied. He lifts your legs, wrapping them around his waist, your baby pink heels slightly digging into his back.
You choke out another moan, your eyes screwing shut so tight they hurt.
“Fuck,” you scream so loud you would swear you scared the birds in the trees. Your last orgasm rips through you hard and fast.
Your nails are grasping at the paint on the car, and at the moment, neither of you care if you scratch it. Afterall, Chan would just pay to have it fixed anyway.
The pleasure is mind numbing, body shaking, and life changing. You finish together, hot loads of Chan spilling out into you. You two of you are panting, covered in sweat as you try to catch your breath. You look up at Chan, dazed and satisfied with a lazy smirk. He sits pulls out, fastening his pants around his waist, before he pulls you up, your breast once against flush with his chest.
He smirks back at you before helping you down off the car; your legs buckle beneath you and you almost go down. He picks you up carrying you inside bridal style. He takes you to your shared bedroom where he lays you on the bed.
“I’m going to run us a bath, ok? Stay here,” he says before kissing your forehead. You smile at him letting your hands meet before he pulls away letting it fall. You hear the sound of the water rushing into the tub.
Chan grabs some candles and he leaves the room to grab some rose petals, a bottle of champagne with two flutes, and a box of chocolate covered strawberries. You quirk a brow noticing the contents but your mind is just too tired to ask questions.
You hear your boyfriend walk back into the room, he helps you sit up, tying your hair up into a messy bun for you, and he picks you up once again to carry you to the bathroom, the candles lighting the room in a warm glow with the lights out. He cracks the bathroom door behind you before he sets you down into the water, the warmth enveloping you. You move your arms a little, smiling at the flowery petals and noticing the delicious treat.
You sigh before humming content. He slips in behind you wrapping his arms around you, holding you against him.
“So you like the car?” He asks against your ear.
“It’s perfect.”
“You’re perfect, baby.” He smiles and kisses the back of your head. He pours the two of you a drink before grabbing each of you a strawberry.
“To us,” he cheers and you clink your glasses. Each of you take a bite of your strawberry, you giggle a little at each other as you do. You sit in the water, the warmth comforting, both from Chan and the bath. He always knew exactly how to take care of you.
“You ok? You need anything?”
“Just for you to hold me,” you smile at him as you relax against him, “And maybe another strawberry,” you smirk as he feeds it to you. He smiles as he’s more than happy to be of service. You sigh content, before another idea pops into your head.
“And maybe a nice dinner to replenish my energy,” you hint. He chuckles.
“We’ll take your car, how’s that sound?”
“Oh yay! I can show it off.” You quietly squeal as the water laps at your bodies.
“You’re not sore, are you?” His voices laces with worry, noticing how little you’re moving against him.
“I’m fine baby, really. Just a little tired.” You yawn as your head falls back against his chest into the crook of neck. You close your eyes for a moment, knowing you’re completely safe.
“I love you baby.” He says quietly, cheek resting against the top of your head. Your stomach knots but your grin is present nonetheless. He’s never said those words before.
“I love you, too.” You say before placing a sweet kiss to the bottom of his neck.
Tags: @breakmeoff @thelovelybireader
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Home Run Hank
Label Mature 18+
Summary Hanks team the Giants win big-time, blowing out the score board, but the nights far from over realizing he has another surprise to slide into at home base.
❤️🔥Passionate Smut ❤️🔥 surprising your boyfriend Hank • edging • teasing •sweet talk • dirty talk •groping • clit play• keep it on• lap sitting • body praising • body worship • girl on top • lap riding • simultaneous climax • cream pie• after care 🔗Masterlist

📖 Proofreader @purejasmine ✨Inspired by @aust-een @butdaddyilovehim99 & the team color orange lingerie ⚾️
Home Run Hank
The TV blares in your cozy living room, the final seconds of the game ticking down. You’re sprawled on the couch, your day off from work spent lazily until now, your eyes glued to the screen as Hank’s favorite team scores a home run for the win. The crowd roars through the TV, and your heart does a little jump, you know Hanks has to be ecstatic right now, even though he’s stuck at work.
He’s pulling a split shift at the bar tonight, 5 p.m. to midnight, probably wiping down counters and pouring beers while sneaking glances at the score. You grab the phone, already grinning and dial the bar’s number.
It rings a few times before a rough voice picks up.
“This is Russ, what’s up?”
“Hey, it’s me,” you say, voice bright. “Can you get Hank on the line?”
“Yo, Thompson!” Russ yells, muffled, before you hear the celebratory clink of glasses and Hank’s familiar low laugh in the background.
A moment later, he’s on. “Baby,” he drawls, that warm, seductive edge in his voice making your stomach flip, “What’s good? You watchin’ the game?”
“Just caught the end,” you sigh, leaning back on the couch, “Your boys pulled it off big time. You owe me a victory dance.”
He laughs, deep and warm, and you can picture him leaning against the bar, his sandy blonde hair tucked behind his ears, his blue eyes glinting. “Oh, I’ll give you more than a victory dance...You know I’m stuck here ‘til midnight, though.”
“Not much longer,” you say, voice dropping low, playful. “I’ve got a surprise for you when you come home after your shift.”
He pauses, then a low groan, like you’re testing his patience in the best way. “A surprise, huh? You know I don’t like waiting, baby. Gimme a hint.”
“Nope not a chance Thompson,” you say, your grin widening. “You want it, you show up as soon as you’re off.”
“Fuck, you’re cruel,” he says, but there’s a smirk in his tone, and you know he’s already hooked, you can just picture him running a hand through that blonde hair, his blue eyes filled with want. “Alright, not a minute after midnight. I’ll be there.” He says.
“You better be,” you chide, your voice teasing as you both say your goodbyes and hang up. The orange lingerie set in his team’s color flashes in your mind, and your heart races in anticipation to wear it for him.
It’s well past midnight when he unlocks the front door. You’ve been ready for hours, wearing a short wrap dress that ties at the waist hiding the orange lingerie beneath, a secret that’s got your pulse thrumming. The door swings open, and there’s Hank, all 6 feet tallof him looking like pure temptation in a tight black tee that hugs his broad chest, his favorite Giants cap worn low over his eyes, his long blonde curls peeking out at the ends.
He’s all heat and eagerness, his blue eyes sparking with mischief as his full lips curve into a sly knowing grin stepping inside.
“C’mere,” you say, your voice soft but commanding, your hands reaching up to cup the back of his neck, fingers sliding through those soft nape curls.
You pull him down, his lips meeting yours hungry and hot, tongues tangling together as you yank him inside, kicking the door shut behind him.
“Fuck, baby,” he murmurs against your mouth, hands gripping your hips, pulling you tight against him and you feel every inch of his hard body. “Been thinkin’ ‘bout you all damn shift.” he whispers and you take his hat mid-kiss, placing it on your head with a playful grin, tilting it low over your eyes. “You ready for your surprise?” you ask, your voice sultry as your fingers linger on his chest.
“Let’s see it,” he rasps, eyes darkening as he backs you into the bedroom, peeling off his shirt in one smooth motion. It slides over his head, revealing his chiseled abs, arms thick with muscle, his chest heaving slightly as he takes you in.
Your hands roam his bare skin, nails grazing his waist as you push him closer to the bed. He unbuttons and shoves out of his jeans in one swift motion, revealing his black boxers, his cock hard and straining against the thin fabric.
His hands immediately return to you, wandering, grasping, squeezing your breasts through your dress, then sliding down to grip your ass, his erection pressing hard into your thigh. “What’s under this dress, huh?” he asks, his voice rough, desperate.
You smirk, pushing him to sit on the edge of the bed, his thighs flexing under you as you straddle his lap. “Patience, big guy,” you purr, your voice playful, your hands sliding down his abs, teasing over the bulge in his boxers as you grind against him, feeling him twitch. “This is your surprise,” you reveal.
With a slow pull you untie the wrap dress, letting it fall to the floor exposing the orange lingerie clinging to your curves.
The sound Hank makes is half-groan, half-curse “Fuck, baby, team colors?” His blue eyes are wide, smitten, hands gripping your hips like he’s trying to control himself. “You’re tryin’ to kill me.” He whispers.
You grin returning his Giants cap back on his head your fingers fondly trailing the brim as you straddle him tighter. “Thought you’d like it,” you whisper, your voice pure seduction. “You gonna show me how much?”
His large hands slide up your back, pulling you down to lower your lips onto his, tilting his head to avoid the brim of his cap. The kiss is molten, tongues sliding, breaths frantic, all heat and need. “You’re everything to me,” he pants, his voice wrecked as his lips brush yours. “Fuckin’ love you in this.”
“Love you too,” you reply, nipping his full bottom lip, hands cupping his jaw as you grind harder, feeling his cock throb through his boxers.
“Want you so bad,” He whispers, and you lift up helping him slide his boxers down his narrow hips, until he tugs the waistband, and his large cock springs free, thick and aching. You reach for your bra, but he stops you, his voice low. “Keep it on. All of it. Just—” His fingers hook your panties, pulling them aside, exposing your slick heat. “Like this.”
You gasp as his thumb finds your clit, circling slow, sending jolts of pleasure through you. “Hank,” you whine, as he lines himself up, the tip of his cock brushing your entrance.
His other hand braces back on the bed, steadying you as you sink down, taking him inch by inch, your walls stretching around his thickness.
“Fuck, baby,” he groans, head slowly tipping back. “So fuckin’ good.
Your hands cup his neck, thumbs brushing his curls as you roll your hips, deep and slow, making him pant. “Like this?” you ask, voice breathy, your own pleasure spiking as his thick cock fills you completely.
“Yes,” he chokes out, muttering sweet, incoherent praises—“You’re my fuckin’ world, shit, don’t stop”—his mind going dumb as you move faster. He thrusts up, the bed creaking, his cock hitting even deeper as you moan, “Yes, Hank, right there.”
Your hand slides down between your bodies, fingers circling your clit, and his eyes are fixated on it, his pupils blown as your moans blend with his low grunts
“Fuck, you’re gorgeous -so fuckin pretty like this,” he rasps, one hand gripping your waist, pulling you down on him as he thrusts up harder, deeper, your bodies slapping together.
“Hank, yes,” you cry out, your voice cracking with satisfaction , your hips rolling faster, chasing the edge. His thighs flex under yours, thick and powerful, driving up into you as you grind on him, his rhythm perfect, desperate. His eyes stay locked on yours, brows furrowed, his mouth panting, devotion written all over his face.
“Gonna come, baby,” he grunts, voice strained, his hand tightening on your hip. “Fuck, you feel so good.”
“Me too,” you gasp, your fingers working your clit faster, the coil in your belly snapping. You come with a broken moan, walls clenching tight around him, and he follows, a warmth flooding deep in your core as he groans your name, hips jerking. You kiss him hard, his full lips parting under yours, softly moaning in your mouth as you ride it out together.
“Fuck,” he pants, collapsing back on the bed, pulling you down on top of him, your bodies limp and sated. “I fuckin’ love you.”
You smile, taking his hat off his head and setting it aside, leaning in to kiss him deep and slow, and his fingers thread through your hair. “I fuckin’ love you too,” you respond, lips brushing his, feeling his heart beat racing under your own. “Surprise good enough?” you grin.
“Best fuckin’ surprise ever,” he says, his voice soft, smitten, pulling you closer as you sink into each other, knowing Hank definitely knocked out a home run tonight.
END 🧢⚾️
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Hiiii! I really adore your writing and I’ve literally binged all of it 💕💕💕💕
I was wondering if you could do a story on Loser/Nerd! König kinda like tutor but it’s a girl who asks for help who generally has a crush on him and adores him and she’s all sweet and kind to him. Like all lovey dovey and affectionate!
I hope you have a good day!!!!💕💕💕💕
Thank you!! 💖💖
Nerd!König X Soft!Reader (fem)
MDNI🔞
Master List
>cw: fem/afab, oral, p in v, v-card loss
2.5k word count
📖
.
.
You sit in class and look over at König, the tall Austrian student that recently moved here. His blonde hair is always unkept and his eyes tired. There is an aura about him that pulls you to him like a magnet. While he tries to appear stoic and mysterious, you see him casually peering over at you. A curious look in his eyes as he analyzes you.
Both of your eyes meet for a split second before he spins his head, looking back at the whiteboard. Your gaze lingers before you look straight ahead as well. Once class ends, König stands quickly, his long legs assisting him in fleeing the lecture hall quickly. You watch, blinking, as he fades away into the hall.
It’s right after statistics class, so you knew he’d be going to the library to work on the assignments we’ve been given; assignments you need his help with. That’s not the only reason you want to find him though…
With one deep breath, you decide to go through with your plan and approach König. You walk casually though campus as you mentally hyper yourself up. Other than sharing glances, you’ve not talked to König. What if you simply forget how to speak?
König sits with his air pods in while he works on equations using his iPad. Despite being nearly seven feet tall, he tries his hardest to go unnoticed; sitting in the back corner of the library. He is unaware that he has eyes on him, your eyes.
His sky-blue eyes look up and meet yours as you approach him. König looks around. Maybe you’re meaning to approach someone else? Even lost in confusion, he can’t resist but to glance at your body as you walk. You’re shaped perfectly, exactly his type. The fluid motion of your curves and breasts bouncing pulls him in. Then you stop right in front of him. With one hand, he takes an air pod out and places it back into the case.
“Hi!” You struggle to conceal the delight on your face as you finally get to speak to König.
“H-hallo.” König looks confused. Are you going to yell at him for always checking you out?
His accent is so dreamy. You think to yourself.
“I’m y/n. We have the same math class together.”
“Ja, I know who you are.” He sits back, wondering what this is about. The struggle to keep his gaze above the neck is real.
Without saying anything, you pull a chair next to him and sit. He looks down at your small size as you sit there. The tension in the air between you two is so thick you could feel it consume the surrounding room both.
“I was wondering um—” A rush of nervousness floods through you. “I know you’re amazing at statistics. Incredibly smart.”
Your sentence pauses as you take a moment to get lost in his eyes. The way you are gazing at him is as if you’ve already fallen in love. His cheeks go red as he looks at you.
“Well, I guess I just wanted to ask if you’d have time to tutor me?”
König let your question hang in the air for a few seconds as he looked at you. Have you always looked at him like this? He realizes he wouldn’t know because he avoids eye contact with you. Maybe tutoring wouldn’t be such a bad thing.
“I can.” He says simply trying to not let it show how excited he was to spend time with you.
“Are you free tomorrow?”
“I am—”
“I’ll be by your dorm room by noon.” You say with a large smile and turn to walk away.
König just sits there with his mouth hanging open as you walk away from him. A thousand thoughts running through his mind all at once. He quickly packs up his bags and goes to his dorm to clean it up for your arrival; he doesn’t want you to think he’s a slob.
The next day at 11:59 am, you knock on his door. When König answers you smile up at him and hold out a Tupperware container. He gazes down at you and cautiously grabs it from your hands as he steps aside to let you in.
“They’re homemade Jelly Donuts. I saw in Austria they’re really popular so I figured it would make a nice thank you gift.” Your voice is cheery, hoping he likes them.
König’s eyes light up as he opens the container to see six donuts carefully lined up and dusted with powdered sugar. He picks one up and takes a bite. His eyes flutter closed and he nods, enjoying the sweet apricot jam in the middle.
You can’t help but to smile as you watch him enjoying himself. A light dusting of powdered sugar covers his lower lip. Without a second though you use your thumb to gently glide across his lip, cleaning it for him.
“You had a little sugar.” You giggle as he looks at you. His heart thumps inside of his chest.
As he enjoys his donut your eyes look around his dorm room. König watches you as you do, feeling nervous that you might mock his collection of Gundam models that he’s spent hours building. Instead, you gravitate to one of the models of Beargguy.
“You have a Beargguy gunplay? I think he’s so adorable! I have the pink one built.”
Did she just say gunplay? She’s perfect. He thinks to himself.
“Um yeah, I have the panda one too. I just haven’t built him yet.” König says, whipping the powdered donut dusting from his fingers onto his jeans.
“Maybe when we are done with tutoring me you can give me a tour of your models?” You smirk as you sit on his bed.
König doesn’t know what to say other than nod and agree. Dirty thoughts flood his mind as he watches you sit on his bed so casually. How would it feel to touch your skin? Kiss your lips? He shakes his head and walks over to his iPad and textbooks so he can start tutoring you.
He sits on his bed next to you, his knee bumps with yours, causing you to feel a rush of excitement being so close to him. The same rush travels through his body. There is a tension he is trying to ignore as he fumbles open his iPad.
As he does, your eyes are glued to his face. His blue eyes look stunning as they read over notes on the screen in front of him. Your eyes watch as he uses his fingers to scroll and tap. Without a second thought, you reach your smaller hand over to his knee and rub.
König’s eyes drift from the screen down to your hand on his. He swallows, but there is no movement to push your hand away, but there is a rush of heat to his groin. Finally, he turns his head, his blue eyes gazing into your eyes.
“I think you’re really amazing.” You say in a soft tone while being physically more forward.
König turns to you, his eyes roaming up and down your body before coming back to your face. This is his moment, the change he’s been waiting for. His hand comes up and cradles your face in his hand. The feeling of your hand moving up from his knee to his thigh causes his cock to get hard. A girl has never touched him this way.
His blue eyes darken as his pupils expand from arousal. You lean in and kiss his lips gently at first, waiting to see if he will reject you. As you pull back from the kiss, you look at König, awaiting his reaction.
König leans in and kisses you again. His kiss is needy, instantly opening his mouth against yours. You reciprocate and open your mouth, your tongue reaching out to swirl around his. A low guttural groan leaves his lips as your hand reaches for his erection. He pulls back from the kiss to look down at your hand as you grab him over the fabric of his jeans and jerk him slightly.
“Y/n…” He moans before kissing you again.
You kiss him back before pulling away and kiss his neck, gently licking his pale skin. It only adds to the euphoric feeling of you touching his cock. His hands go to his jeans and unzip them, releasing his leaky cock for you to grab.
A soft moan leaves his lips as he feels your smaller hand wrap around his shaft. He gazes down as you pull his foreskin back, jerking him off. Little droplets of precum trail down onto your hands, acting like lubrication and assisting in your motions.
“Your cock is so fucking big.” You whisper as you drop to your knees in front of him.
His eyes watch your every movement like a hawk, he can feel his cock twitch as you kneel in front of him. Your hand moves down to the base of his shaft as you lean forward to put the head of his cock in your mouth.
You suck lightly, eyes meeting König’s to watch his reaction. As you lower your head down further on his cock, König lets out a whimper. He tosses his iPad aside to get comfortable as you suck off his cock. He gently runs his fingers through your hair before grabbing slightly. He gently helps you through the motion, bobbing your head on his cock for you.
Loud sucking sounds fill the room, like music to his ears. He watches as spit forms at the corners of your mouth and spills down his cock. Your full lips wrap so perfectly around him. He lets out a shaky breath as he drops his head back. You let out a soft moan on his cock, the hum vibrating through him.
You pull your head back with a pop off of his cock, eagerly your tongue runs up and down his erection. His hand moves away from your head as he leans back on the bed.
“I want to fuck you…” He whispers, almost as if he didn’t really mean for you to hear him. You did.
Without a second thought you stand up and begin to strip your clothing off. König’s eyes widen as you do. He feels like now he should be honest with you because what if he’s bad?
“I’m…I’ve never been with someone before.”
“That’s okay, I can teach you.” A small smile of pride on your face for being his first intimate experience.
König follows your lead and undresses completely. You haze over his body, slightly chubby but you can tell he’s extremely strong. He stands looking over your naked body, his eyes zeroing in on the small bush covering the mound of your cunt.
“How…do we start?”
“We can start simple. Do you want me to ride you or you on top?”
His eyes move as if he is deep in thought. The idea of watching your breasts bounce wild as you ride him sounds amazing, but he’d probably cum faster from the visuals mixed with the pleasure. “I want to be on top.”
“Okay.” You crawl on the bed, ass up in the air as you go to his pillows and lay down.
König moves on to the bed with you, his enormous frame approaching yours. His eyes drop down between your legs as he kneels in front of you on the bed. A pussy. Your pussy. He’s always wanted to know what you smell like, taste life. He lowers himself slightly while his hands pull your legs apart more.
König flicks his tongue out and licks your folds lightly. His eyes dart up to yours to see your reaction. You nod, encouraging him. He presses his face closer and takes a longer swipe with his tongue and…my god. After one taste, he couldn’t stop. Not a thought in his mind as he buries his face between your pussy lips, lapping at your folds and missing your clit.
“Go up more.” You instruct him. “Like the little hood area.”
He moves his tongue up, flicking it quickly. Your eyes flutter and legs begin to twitch. König realizes he’s making you feel good. It excites him like no other. He doesn’t stop as soft moans begin to leave your lips freely. His eyes stay locked on yours as his lips begin to thrust into the mattress beneath him to get friction.
“You taste so sweet.” He says quickly before diving back down between your thighs.
A small smirk appears on your lips before another moan comes out. You gaze down at him and comb your fingers through his hair. “You’re doing so well.” The way you say it with a tone of desire lights the fire within him.
“I’m sorry, I want to feel you so badly.” He says as he pulls away from your core and moves his body between your legs.
He rubs the head of his cock along your folds and feels himself shutter at the feeling of your warmth and wetness. His eyes are down gazing at your folds spread open for him. He leans down and kisses your breast shyly before kissing your lips.
“Can I—”
“Yes.”
König gazes back down at your pussy as he watches his cock get swallowed by your cunt squeezing him. His eyebrows pinch from the orgasmic feeling of your velvety walls clenching around him. A loud moan escapes his throat as he fully shoves his cock into you.
“Oh fuck!” He groans loudly as he pulls back and slams into you again.
The feeling he’s giving you is euphoric as you gaze up into his eyes. He watches as your breasts bounce to the rhythm of his motions. A melody of pleasure leaves your lips encouraging his speed to quicken.
He gazes down at the creamy streaks your sweet pussy is leaving behind and his cock. You look like a perfect angel beneath him. The look of pleasure on your beautiful face is something he wishes to see over and over.
“König!” You moan out as your nails dig into his arms.
Hearing you moan out his name was just too much. König leans back and grabs your legs, spreading them wide apart. He thrust into you quickly, losing his rhythm and just chasing his orgasm that’s quickly building.
With one final hard thrust, he slams into you and leans over your back. His lips needily finding yours, kissing you as he cums into your pussy. You can feel his cock throbbing as you rock your hips against his. König pants and rests his heavy body on yours, pressing you into the mattress.
“I’m sorry…” he says panting, “I didn’t make you cum.”
“It’s okay.” You kiss his neck and caress his sweaty back. “It was your first time.”
He shakes his head, pulling out. “I want to make you cum.”
König looks into your eyes as he parts your legs and drops onto his stomach. With the adrenaline of having just lost his virginity, he takes his time this time. He kisses down your thighs, softly biting your supple flesh. His eyes drawn to his white cum leaking out of you.
“You’re so perfect.” König says to you as his lips get closer to your cunt. “Be mine. Bitte.”
#konig#konig x reader#konig cod#könig x reader#konig smut#könig mw2#konig x y/n#könig#könig cod#könig smut#könig x you#konig x you#könig x y/n#konig mw2#cod konig#könig call of duty#cod smut#konig x reader smut#smut
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We can't be Friends Anymore
Yuqi (🐶) x Male Reader (📖)
switching pov
Word Count: 13.6k
a/n: tried experimenting with switching pov in 2nd person, and testing some dividers format.


The campus hums—students sprawl on the lawn or dart between classes. You’re propped against the library railing, nursing a half-hearted coffee, when familiar faces roll up.
“Yo, isn’t Yuqi your friend?” one of them asks, a little too casually.
You already know where this is going.
“She is,” you confirm, watching as they exchange looks.
“So, she’s actually single?” another cuts in, voice skeptical. “No hidden boyfriend? No messy situationship?”
You snort, shaking your head. “Nope. No secret anything. Just her and her oversized ego.”
That seems to encourage them. Someone whistles low. “Damn. Think I got a shot?”
You pretend to consider it. “Honestly? Go for it.”
That gets a reaction—a few surprised laughs, one guy nudging the other in mock encouragement.
“I mean it,” you continue, shrugging. “Might do her some good to have someone other than textbooks and late-night ramen occupying her brain. She hyper-fixates way too much on school.”
“She does look kinda intense,” one of them admits.
“Oh, she’s a menace,” you say easily. “But here’s the thing—Yuqi’s also insanely narcissistic. If you confess to her, she’d eat that up. She lives to be reminded how pretty she is.”
That earns a round of laughter.
“So you’re saying I should just walk up to her, tell her she’s gorgeous, and I’m in?”
You smirk. “Depends. Can you handle being ignored for two weeks when she gets too busy? Or her texting you at 2 AM just to brag about an exam score?”
The guy groans. “Yeah, nah. I don’t have the mental strength for that.”
Another one shakes his head. “Dude, why’s it sound like you’re feeding us to the wolves?”
You lift a brow. “Hey, you’re the ones asking.”
They chuckle, muttering something about how Yuqi’s beauty really is a waste if she’s just gonna be married to academia forever. You don’t think much of it—this isn’t the first time people have asked you about her, and it won’t be the last.
Besides, it’s not like it matters to you.
“Asking about what?”
The voice cuts through the conversation, unmistakable and laced with curiosity.
You don’t even have to turn around. You already know.
Yuqi stands there, arms crossed, one brow raised in that signature I-know-you’re-up-to-something expression. She looks effortlessly put together despite probably running on four hours of sleep and an unreasonable amount of caffeine. Her oversized hoodie hangs loosely off one shoulder, and she’s got that ever-present glint of amusement in her eyes—sharp, calculating, and just a little too pleased with catching you off guard.
The group stiffens. One guy actually takes half a step back, like she might call him out by name.
You take your time, sipping your drink before finally acknowledging her. “Oh, nothing much. Just these guys wondering if you’re single and available.”
Her gaze flicks toward them, slow and deliberate.
“Hmm.” She taps her chin, pretending to think. “And? What did you tell them?”
You smirk. “Told them to go for it. That you’d love being reminded how pretty you are.”
Yuqi scoffs, but you don’t miss the way her lips twitch upward. “Wow. Advertising me like I’m a limited-time offer?”
“I mean, you are in high demand.”
She tilts her head, feigning boredom. “And yet, nobody’s brave enough to try.”
The guys exchange awkward laughs, none of them willing to step up to the challenge. One clears his throat and mutters something about being late for class before they all make a quick exit, leaving just you and Yuqi standing there.
She watches them go, then turns back to you, unimpressed. “You really have zero faith in my love life, huh?”
“Not my fault your standards are ridiculous.”
“They’re not ridiculous,” she argues, flicking a piece of lint off her sleeve. “They’re refined.”
You shake your head, chuckling. “Whatever you say, Your Highness.”
She hums, studying you for a second too long. Then, with a smirk, she leans in slightly. “And what about you?”
You blink. “What about me?”
Yuqi’s grin sharpens. “Would you confess to me?”
She’s teasing, tossing it out like it’s nothing—just another jab in your years-long game.
So why does it land heavier this time?
“Hello??” She waves a hand in front of your face. “Stop zoning out like you’re actually thinking about it— are you?”
“Hell no,” you shoot back, forcing a laugh. “I know you’re full of yourself, but that’s taking it too far.”
She scoffs, crossing her arms. “Right. As if you could handle me anyway.”
‘God, she’s so annoying.’
She’s good-looking—annoyingly so. The kind of person who doesn’t even have to try. But when she does, she’s exceptional. Yuqi never settles. If she can push herself further, she will. She likes to joke that her father drilled perfectionism into her at three years old. You believe it. It shows in the way she studies, the way she carries herself, the way she acts like the world should revolve around her—and sometimes, it almost does.
You met her at the start of college—multiple run-ins on the same day. Apparently, that was enough for her to decide you were friends. From then on, Yuqi stuck around, pulling you into her orbit.
Rumors, of course, followed. They always do. But your relationship with Yuqi wasn’t that. Never that. It wasn’t shallow, like something you could fall in and out of, love or hate.
Best friends. Neither too close nor too distant. Something steady. Something comforting.
…Or at least, it should’ve been.
~🐶~
“Then… I can live with you.”
The words cut through the gentle hum of the café, slipping into the space between you and her without warning.
Yuqi, halfway through savoring a forkful of cake, stilling at the sudden proposition. The sweetness on her tongue dulls as her mind processes what she just heard.
Outside, the streetside view stretches beyond the window, pedestrians weaving through the early evening rush, neon signs flickering to life. It had been a peaceful moment—her, indulging in dessert, the warm glow of café lights, the casual murmur of other patrons.
And then that.
Her gaze snaps up, eyebrows slightly raised. She had been so focused on her food, on the comforting ritual of eating something sweet after a long day, that she almost forgot she wasn’t sitting here alone.
Across from her, you sit, arms crossed, looking entirely too casual for someone who just threw out a life-altering suggestion.
“…What?” Her fork hovers, eyes narrowing as she rewinds the last five minutes. Housing gripes, sure. Minnie’s betrayal, yeah. But this? “Hold up—did you just say live with me? Where the hell did that come from?”
“You just said it a minute ago, aren't you in trouble because you got stood up?”
Yuqi clicks her tongue at the memory, the taste of betrayal lingering far worse than the cake melting on her tongue.
Minnie—her supposed roommate, her supposed friend—had bailed on her at the last minute.
She had just signed the lease when the call came.
"Yuqi… I’m sorry, I don’t think I can live with you… My boyfriend offered to live with him, and I couldn’t refuse. You understand, right?? Thank you…"
Yuqi had barely gotten out a, “Wait, what? Minnie, I just signed the lease—hold on—” before the call ended.
That was two days ago.
Now, here she was, sitting in a café with you, still trying to figure out how to deal with it.
And your grand solution? Living together.
Yuqi swirls her straw in her drink, staring at you like you’ve just suggested something insane—which, to be fair, you have.
“I also have to move next month,” you continue, unfazed. “My office is closer there. So it’s perfect timing.”
“No way. Too weird—thanks, but no.” She chugs her drink, as if that will help wash away the absurdity of this conversation. “For now, I’ll call the real estate office for a cancellation.”
“And your job starts next month,” you counter, unfazed. “Good luck apartment-hunting in zero time.”
“Hmm… I guess I’ll have to postpone my work too.” Her fork idly plays with the remains of her cake, breaking it down into a mess of crumbs. Just moments ago, she had been enjoying it, and now she can’t even bring herself to take another bite. “I’ll just go back to my parents’ house, and—”
“You can’t do that.”
Yuqi frowns. “What?”
“Did you forget? I also wanted to go home, and you didn’t let me. That’s the reason I got the job I was dreaming of.”
She clicks her tongue. “See what happens when you just listen to me?”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself— Give it up, you’re not pushing back your work.” You lean back, arms crossed. “Am I not your friend? Aren’t we supposed to help each other when we’re in trouble?”
Yuqi exhales, pressing her lips together. As much as she hates to admit it, you have a point.
It’s only temporary. A practical solution. Why shouldn’t she take it?
For the past two days, she had been dreading this mess—mentally calculating costs, debating whether she should force herself into a last-minute roommate arrangement with a complete stranger.
And now, just like that, you’ve handed her the perfect fix.
Her shoulders, tense from the weight of this problem, feel noticeably lighter. The only thing that irks her is that she didn’t think of this first.
“…Yeah, you’re right. We’re friends.” She leans back, eyeing you. “There’s no reason for me to decline. Especially not after all that pleading.”
“pleading?? I’m not the one who needs help here.”
“Fine. How much you chipping in?”
“Fifty-fifty. What, you think I’m just going to give you easy money?”
“If you’re volunteering…” She smirks, leaning in just enough to taunt.
You shake your head, scoffing. “Unbelievable.”
And so, the cohabitation between you and Yuqi begins.
~~~
There are private rooms, clear boundaries. As long as neither of you misjudges the sense of distance between you, nothing will change.
At least, that’s what you both assume.
The first few weeks go exactly as expected—well, mostly.
Yuqi doesn’t have to worry about rent anymore. There’s no awkward adjustment period, no need to tiptoe around like she would with a stranger. You’re not the worst person to live with, either. Sure, you’re irritating sometimes—leaving your notes scattered on the dining table, stealing the last of the coffee, acting smug whenever you manage to fix something she can’t—but she’s always known that about you.
What she didn’t expect was how quickly she gets used to you being there.
It’s the little things.
The way she hears the front door open and instinctively knows it’s you. The way you always leave the light on when you come home late because you know she stays up reading.
One night, she passes by the kitchen and finds you there, reheating food. You glance up. “You haven’t eaten yet?”
She shrugs, stealing a piece of your food before you can swat her hand away. “Hey—”
“It’s fine, I’m not that hungry.”
You exhale, shaking your head. “You do this every time. Don’t be a hypocrite.”
Yuqi frowns. “What?”
“You always scold me for skipping meals, but look at you.”
She rolls her eyes, but something in her chest stirs at the fact that you noticed.
It happens again when she comes home exhausted one evening and finds her favorite drink sitting on the counter. When she glances at you, raising a brow, you just shrug. “Thought you’d need it.”
And again, when she’s cramming for a presentation and you drop a snack beside her without a word.
She tells herself it’s normal. You’re friends. Friends do things like this.
Another moment.
Yuqi is in the kitchen early one morning, half-awake as she absentmindedly flips an egg in the pan. She isn’t much of a cook, but breakfast is simple enough—something warm to start the day before the madness of work and school kicks in.
She’s focused on the sizzling sound, the comforting routine of it, when she suddenly feels movement behind her.
Then—warmth.
You’re reaching over her, one hand bracing the counter beside her, the other stretching toward the cupboard above.
For a split second, she’s caught off guard by how close you are—close enough that she can feel the faint heat of your body against her back, close enough that she catches the lingering scent of your shampoo, something fresh and clean.
Her heartbeat stutters.
Instinct kicks in before logic does, and she turns around—only to make things worse.
Now, instead of your presence behind her, she’s face-to-face with you.
Too close.
Way too close.
Her eyes meet yours, and for some reason, it feels like neither of you moves for a second too long. Her pulse is loud in her ears, and she doesn’t know why she’s suddenly so aware of the way her breath catches—why her fingers tighten slightly around the spatula in her hand.
She’s being weird again.
“You…” She clears her throat, trying to sound unaffected. “Need something?”
You blink, as if snapping out of it, and gesture toward the cupboard. “Just getting a mug.”
Right. Obviously.
She mentally curses herself and quickly steps aside, turning her focus back to the stove. It’s nothing. You’re just tired. That’s all.
But then one morning, she walks into the living room, still groggy from sleep, and finds you sitting on the couch, absentmindedly scrolling on your phone. Sunlight streams through the window, catching in your hair. You’re wearing that old, worn-out hoodie you refuse to throw away, looking like you belong there—like you belong with her.
And something about it makes her stomach flip in a way it shouldn’t.
Yuqi stands frozen in the hallway, gripping her coffee mug, heartbeat slightly off rhythm.
She doesn’t like where her thoughts are going.
She really, really doesn’t.
So she does what she always does when faced with something uncomfortable—she brushes it aside.
She’s just being weird.
It’s nothing.
It has to be nothing.
“Hey.”
Your voice cuts through the silence, snapping Yuqi out of her thoughts.
She blinks, stiffening slightly. “What?”
“You got any plans today?”
Her mind races. Why is he asking? Is he—wait, is he inviting me somewhere? A… date?
“Wh—why?” she asks, trying (and failing) to sound casual.
You shrug. “Nothing. Just asking.” There’s a pause before you add, “I’ll be home late, though. No need to wait up.”
She scoffs, crossing her arms. “Since when do I wait for you?”
You don’t answer, and somehow, that makes it worse.
Irritated, she presses on. “Why? Where are you going?”
“Meeting someone,” you say, vague as hell.
Her brows crash together. “Wait—a date? What, you’re flaunting it now?”
You smirk, dodging the question, and something sour twists in her gut—she hates that smirk, hates how it needles her, hates that she cares.
Before she can push further, a realization slams into her. “Oh—shit, work!”
Panic sets in as she scrambles toward the bathroom, cursing under her breath. Just as she reaches the door, she pauses, whipping around to point an accusing finger at you.
“Fuck you, you did that on purpose. You were distracting me!”
From the couch, you barely glance up from your phone before lazily flipping her off.
She slams the bathroom door, heart thudding too hard to unpack.
Hours later, she’s a wreck—work crushed her soul, her boss barely grunted at her efforts, and every mistake she made still burns.
She doesn’t even remember how she made it home. Everything from today—the endless stress, the way her boss barely acknowledged her work, the stupid mistakes she made because she was too exhausted to think straight—it all clings to her like dead weight.
It feels even shittier knowing what today was supposed to be.
Her first work anniversary. One year. A milestone that should mean something, should feel like progress. Instead, she feels like she’s still fumbling, still struggling to prove herself, still barely keeping up.
Her head pounds. Her chest feels tight.
And maybe—just maybe—what makes it worse is that today also marks one year since she moved in with you.
One year of this place feeling like home.
But right now, standing in the entryway, shoes barely kicked off, she just feels… drained.
She wants to cry.
Not in a dramatic, loud way. Just… silently. Curled up on the couch, alone in the dimly lit apartment, where she could finally let go without anyone seeing.
She’s relieved you aren’t home yet.
She doesn’t have to keep it together.
With a deep breath, she pushes open the door—
Pop!
Confetti explodes, and Yuqi flinches, pulse spiking as cake-scent floods her senses.
Streamers dangle, a crooked banner sags on the wall, and there you are—grinning like an idiot with a party popper, like you didn’t just ambush her fragile grip on sanity.
“Congratulations!”
She just… stares.
The weight—dread, fatigue, the whole suffocating mess—frays apart, leaving her raw.
“You made it a whole year,” you continue, motioning toward the cake on the table. “That’s huge. So, you know… I figured we should celebrate.”
It’s too much.
Not in the way work had been too much.
But in the way you always are.
Always paying attention. Always noticing the things she doesn’t say.
Always making it impossible for her to pretend this—you—don’t matter more than they should.
Her throat tightens.
Her fingers twitch, and she grips the strap of her bag a little harder, like she needs to hold onto something—anything—to keep herself from completely unraveling in front of you.
Right now, she wants to collapse into you—arms, warmth, all of it—and that scares her shitless.
She swallows hard, choking out, “You’re an idiot,” as she steps past, voice thinner than she means it to be.
“You’re welcome,” you shoot back easily, like this is just another one of your usual exchanges.
She sets her bag down. Breathes in.
But it’s different now. Everything feels different now.
Because this isn’t something she can brush off anymore.
Not when the sight of you—standing there, waiting for her—could turn her worst day into something else entirely.
She thought to herself. At this rate…
… we couldn’t be friends anymore…
… Is what you thought.
It crept up on you slowly.
At first, living with Yuqi was just supposed to be convenient. A temporary solution, nothing more. You were friends—it was easy, effortless, like always.
But then, things started changing.
You woke up earlier than expected, your throat dry, half-asleep as you dragged yourself toward the kitchen.
But before you could even reach the sink, the bathroom door swung open—
—and Yuqi stepped out. signing in fragments, lyrics clearly improvised, steam curling around her like a scene straight out of a movie.
Your brain short-circuited.
Dripping hair. Bare shoulders. A towel wrapped hugging around her body, another loosely draped over her head. She wasn’t even fully dry yet, droplets trailing down her collarbone, tracing down to her chest, disappearing beneath—
Oh, fuck.
She froze mid-step, finally noticing you.
“Oh, shit!”
Your mouth opened before your brain could catch up. “Morning.”
Her grip tightened on the towel around her chest. “You—you’re up early.”
“And you’re… in towels.”
A beat of silence.
Don’t say something stupid. Don’t say something stu—
“Yeah, you have to stop doing that.”
Yuqi scowled. “Don’t tell me what to do.”
“I wouldn’t if that wasn’t my towel on your head.”
“why is it a big deal, this is my home—”
“I pay for half.”
She narrowed her eyes. “It’s my house. I’ll do what I want.”
And before you could argue, she yanked the towel off her head and chucked it straight at your face.
By the time you pulled it away, she was already gone, bolting to her room like her life depended on it.
Then—
A muffled scream of frustration from behind her door.
You exhaled sharply, pressing the towel against your face—less to dry off, more to hide the heat creeping up your skin.
“Fuck.”
Then there was this one time, when you were setting up the new shelf.
Yuqi insisted she didn’t need help—because of course she did—but five minutes in, she was already struggling to balance the frame while reaching for the screws.
"You're gonna drop it," you warned, watching from the couch.
"I'm not gonna drop it," she shot back, fumbling with the last screw.
The universe, apparently, took that as a challenge.
The shelf wobbled. Yuqi yelped. And before either of you could react, she lost her footing.
She crashed into you, sending you both toppling backward.
A thud, a gasp, and suddenly—
She was on top of you.
Chest pressing into yours. Hands braced on either side of your head. Her face so close that you could feel her breath against your lips, just barely—
Neither of you moved.
Yuqi’s eyes flickered down—just for a second, barely noticeable—before snapping back up, wide and unguarded.
You swallowed.
“…You okay?” Your voice came out rougher than intended.
“I—” She blinked, like she just realized what happened. Her breath hitched. Then, in the most unconvincing voice possible— “Yeah. Totally fine.”
Neither of you made a move to get up.
The moment stretched, tension thick enough to drown in.
Then—
“Yuqi.”
“What?”
“You're still on top of me.”
“…Oh. Right.”
She scrambled off, way too fast for someone who was supposedly “totally fine.” Turning away, she ran a hand through her hair, exhaling sharply.
You sat up, clearing your throat. The air between you still felt charged, buzzing with something neither of you wanted to acknowledge.
She finally looked at you—pointedly not at your lips.
“Shut up,” she muttered.
You hadn’t even said anything yet.
And then there were the bad days.
Yuqi was loud.
You were used to it by now—the way she talked, argued, and debated like she was on some national stage. But tonight, it was worse. Her voice carried through the living room, sharp and insistent, cutting through the walls of your room.
You could tell she wasn’t just talking—she was venting.
You didn’t interrupt.
Didn’t step in.
Just waited.
Then—
A knock on your door.
Soft, hesitant. Almost out of character.
“…You wanna drink?”
When you opened the door, Yuqi was standing there, arms crossed, gaze flickering to the side. The frustration from earlier had dimmed, replaced by something more subdued.
You didn’t question it. Just grabbed your jacket. “Let’s go.”
The city felt different at night. Quieter, almost peaceful, the usual rush of people replaced by empty sidewalks and the occasional streetlight glow.
Yuqi walked beside you, hands stuffed in her pockets, gaze tilted toward the sky. The stars were faint, barely visible between the buildings, but she looked at them anyway.
“…You ever feel like you’re running out of time?”
You glanced at her. “What do you mean?”
She exhaled, kicking a stray pebble on the pavement. “I dunno. Just—sometimes it feels like I need to keep going. Like if I stop, even for a second, I’ll fall behind. And I hate that feeling.”
You stayed quiet, letting her talk.
“But then I think… what if I don’t even know where I’m running to?”
That, you understood.
You let the silence settle before answering. “You don’t have to figure everything out now, you know.”
She scoffed. “That’s easy for you to say.”
“Is it?” You gave her a pointed look. “You’re the one who’s always giving me advice.”
Yuqi opened her mouth—then shut it, visibly chewing over your words.
You smirked. “Not so fun being on the other end, huh?”
She shoved your shoulder lightly. “Shut up.”
The walk continued, and little by little, the weight in her expression faded. The tension in her shoulders eased, her usual energy returning in small doses—first in the way she kicked at a stray pebble, then in how she scoffed at one of your dumb remarks.
By the time you made it back to your place, she was… lighter.
As you reached the door, she stretched her arms above her head with a sigh. “You know what? I don’t think I need that drink anymore.”
You raised a brow. “So I got dragged out here for nothing?”
“I never dragged you—”
You gave her a look.
“…Okay, maybe a little,” she admitted, rolling her eyes. Then, after a beat, softer—“But it helped, so. Thanks.”
A pause.
Then, quieter—“I mean it.”
You stared at her, the soft glow of the streetlights casting a halo over her face.
Something shifted.
The air felt heavier, charged with something neither of you dared name. It would’ve been easy to brush it off, to make a joke and keep walking—
But before you could find the words, she turned away, already unlocking the door.
“Alright, I’m going to bed. Night, loser.”
The moment passed, or at least, it should have.
But just as you were about to head to your room, Yuqi hesitated.
She turned back, her hand lingering on the doorknob, lips parting like she wanted to say something—then stopping. You caught it then, the flicker of uncertainty in her eyes, rare and fleeting.
And then, finally—
“…Hey.”
You raised a brow. “What?”
She exhaled, tapping her fingers against the doorframe. “Do you remember that stupid bet we made during freshman year?”
You blinked. “Which one?”
“The one where if either of us ever fell for the other, your dic…” She trailed off, then cleared her throat. “Y’know. And I’d have to shave my head.”
You let out a short laugh. “Oh. That bet.”
Back then, rumors about you two dating spread so quickly it became a joke among your classmates. You and Yuqi played along, turning it into a challenge—there’s no way we’d fall for each other. If either of you did, the consequences were extreme.
It was dumb.
It was funny.
It should’ve stayed that way.
But that night?
that night, the words felt heavier.
You studied her expression, trying to gauge where she was going with this. “Why? You getting nervous?”
She scoffed. “Pfft. You wish.”
But there was something in the way she said it. A little too quick, a little too defensive.
You smirked. “Worried about your hair, huh?”
“More like you should be worried,” she shot back, but she wasn’t looking at you when she said it.
You snorted. “Unfair, by the way. I have to cut my dick off, while you only have to shave your head. I can’t believe we agreed to it.”
“…Me either,” she mumbled under her breath.
It was so quiet, so fleeting, you almost missed it. Almost.
For a split second, neither of you spoke.
Then she rolled her eyes. “Whatever. I was just asking. Night, loser.”
Before you could respond, she was inside, the door clicking shut behind her.
You stood there for a second, staring at the empty space where she had just been.
Your bet.
Freshman year.
We will never fall for each other.
You exhaled, running a hand down your face as the thought echoed in your head.
It was supposed to be a joke. A ridiculous bet between two people who swore they’d never be that kind of cliché.
And yet…
Tonight happened.
You expected her to be surprised by the celebration. Maybe even a little annoyed at the mess—the scattered decorations, the cake waiting on the table, the small banner you hastily put together.
What you didn’t expect was the way her expression cracked—just for a second. The way her eyes softened, something raw and unguarded flickering across her face before she caught herself. Before she scoffed, gripping her bag a little too tightly, and muttered, “You’re such an idiot.”
You should’ve let it go. Just laughed, moved on, kept things the way they were.
But she didn’t move.
She stood there, caught between hesitation and something she wouldn’t name, and suddenly, it wasn’t just about tonight.
It was about all of it—the late-night talks when she came home exhausted but still found a way to smile, the quiet gestures, the way she made space for you without even realizing it.
It was the fact that today wasn’t just one year since she started her job.
It was one year since she moved in. One year since this place started feeling a little fuller. A little more like home.
And it hit you then.
All the moments that snuck up on you, that built up piece by piece until there was no more denying it.
Because at some point—somewhere between the shared space, the stolen glances, the lines you swore you’d never cross—
You started falling for her too.
The apartment was quiet except for the soft clinking of utensils against ceramic.
Yuqi sat across from you, the warm glow of the dining room light casting a soft hue over her face. She took a bite, chewing slowly, and then—there it was.
That small, bittersweet smile.
You didn’t know what it meant, not exactly. But you knew it wasn’t the usual smug grin she wore when she teased you, nor the triumphant smirk she had when she got her way.
It was softer. More subdued. Like she was savoring something that wasn’t just the food.
You should’ve looked away. Focused on your plate. Kept things normal. But you didn’t.
Instead, you watched her, your grip tightening around your fork as the weight of everything settled in your chest.
You weren’t looking at her as a friend. Not anymore.
After dinner, Yuqi disappeared into her room while you started cleaning up. You heard the faint rustling of fabric, the sound of a drawer closing, but you didn’t think much of it—until she reemerged.
She padded into the living room in an old t-shirt and a pair of short shorts, her hair slightly damp, probably from washing up. The sight of her like this—comfortable, effortless—made something twist in your chest, but you shoved it down.
Wordlessly, she plopped onto the couch as you finished wiping the table, then leaned back against the cushions, stretching her legs out lazily.
By the time you grabbed a couple of beers from the fridge, she was already making herself at home, one arm draped over the backrest like she belonged there.
You handed her a can, and she took it without a word, cracking it open with a soft hiss.
The TV flickered in the dimly lit apartment, the background noise of a movie filling the space between you.
At some point, between the second beer and the slow lull of the film, Yuqi leaned into the cushions, her body naturally angling toward yours.
Neither of you said much—just the occasional comment, the quiet laughter. But even in the silence, it felt... easy. Comfortable.
And then the credits rolled.
The screen faded to black, leaving nothing but the soft glow from the city lights seeping through the window. The noise stopped.
And yet, you didn’t reach for the remote.
You glanced at her, watching as she traced the rim of her bottle with her thumb. Her expression was unreadable, but there was something contemplative in the way she exhaled, sinking deeper into the couch.
You hesitated, then asked, “Everything okay at work?”
She blinked, as if shaking off a thought. “Ye—yeah. Just some problems here and there, I guess.”
“Nothing you couldn’t handle, I assume.”
She snorted, tilting her head to look at you. “Of course not. Do you even know who you’re talking to?”
There she was again—the Yuqi you knew. The one who never backed down, who met everything head-on with that sharp, unshaken confidence.
But you’d seen her earlier. The way she lingered at the door. The way her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes tonight.
You hummed, setting your bottle down. “That so?”
Her brows furrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing,” you mused, stretching your arm along the back of the couch. “Just wondering if the great Song Yuqi is finally showing signs of weakness.”
She scoffed, turning to fully face you now, eyes narrowing. “You—”
Then, without warning, she flicked your forehead. Hard.
You flinched. “Ow—what the hell?”
“That’s for being annoying,” she said smugly, leaning back like she’d won something.
Oh. That’s how she wanted to play it?
Fine.
You barely gave her a second to react before your hand shot out, fingers pressing into her side.
The moment she realized what was happening, her smirk vanished.
“Wait—no! No, no, no! Don't tickle me” she yelped, twisting away instinctively. “You—asshole—stop!”
But you didn’t stop.
“Think you can flick me and walk away?” you taunted, fingers digging into her sides, relentless as she writhed against the couch, laughter spilling wild between you.
You pressed in, grinning, chasing her squirming frame—her giggles breaking apart into breathless, jagged bursts. She swatted at you, sloppy and weak, but you had the upper hand, her strength no match for yours.
“Admit it,” you teased, skimming the tender spot just below her ribs, knowing it’d unravel her.
“N-never—!” she choked out, twisting under you, her voice fraying as she fought your grip.
The couch groaned under the tussle—her thrashing, your weight shifting—and without thinking, you slid forward, pinning her deeper into the cushions. Your knee nudged between her thighs, pressing firm against her heat.
It didn’t register at first—too lost in the game, her laughter ringing sharp and bright. But then her giggles stumbled, thinning into ragged breaths. Her hands, once shoving, latched onto your arms, fingers digging in—not pushing now, but clinging.
You felt it—the hitch in her chest, the way her body stiffened, then softened, melting against you. Her laughter faded, replaced by something breathier, needier—a sound caught halfway between a gasp and a plea.
And then it slipped out—a moan, soft and unbidden, trembling past her lips.
Everything froze.
Your fingers stalled against her waist, her nails bit into your skin, and the air turned thick, electric. Her eyes snapped wide, lips parted, shock flickering over her face as her breath raced—short, shallow, unraveling.
Your pulse thundered, drowning out the silence, and that’s when you clocked it—your knee, still wedged between her thighs, pressed flush against her warmth.
Neither of you moved.
Neither of you breathed.
The laughter was dead.
Something else took its place—hot, heavy, and undeniable.
You cleared your throat, a feeble attempt to break the spell, to shake off the weight of what had just happened. Slowly, you pulled away, putting space between you before you lost the will to.
Your eyes flickered anywhere but at her—afraid to see what lingered in her expression. Fear? Surprise? Or something else entirely?
You pushed yourself up, ready to remove yourself from the couch, from the heat still clinging to your skin—But then. A tug. Subtle, hesitant.
Fingers curled around your wrist, just tight enough to stop you. To hold you in place.
To keep you from leaving the moment.
You turned, catching the flush creeping up her neck, her lips parted as she refused to meet your gaze.
“Yuqi…” you groaned, your voice strained, warning.
Her grip on your wrist tightened. “Do—don’t leave.”
That was all it took.
You moved back toward her, hesitant but drawn in all the same. The space between you shrank, your breath mingling with hers, lips barely a whisper apart. Her fingers twitched against your skin, but she didn’t pull away.
You could feel the heat radiating from her, the way her chest rose and fell, the way her body swayed ever so slightly in your direction. Just a little more and—
“Wait—!”
Her hands shot up, pressing against your chest—not forceful, not pushing you away completely, but enough to halt you in place.
Your jaw clenched. You stayed there, hovering, pulse hammering in your throat.
“What do you want, Yuqi?” you asked, your voice low, steady despite the storm inside you. “Be clear with me.”
She hesitated, eyes darting anywhere but yours. You felt it—the war within her, the pull and the push, the fear and the want.
You exhaled, nodding slightly. “Okay.”
You started to move back, giving her the space she seemed to need—
But then, just as you did, her arms looped around your neck, her body pressing against yours, her warmth, her scent, her head rising for her lips to meet yours.
Briefly, she pulls away gauging your reaction.
You cursed under your breath, a quiet, ragged sound, because you knew—knew—that if she kept holding onto you like this, you wouldn’t be able to stop.
Your hands found her waist, fingers curling instinctively, and before you could think better of it, you scooped her up.
Yuqi gasped, eyes widening. “Wha—what are you doing?”
You didn’t answer. You couldn’t.
You carried her past the dimly lit hallway, You stop at before the doors of your rooms.
Yuqi who had grasp your intention, murmured close to your chest “Mine—my room.” giving a answer to your conundrum.
Carrying her through the threshold of her room, our grip firm yet careful, your body thrumming with something dangerously close to surrender.
Then, as gently as you could, you set her down.
The bed dipped beneath her weight, her body sinking into the sheets.
And for a moment—just one agonizing moment—silence stretched between you. To pause. To asses. To decide.
Her breath came in uneven waves, fingers clutching the comforter beneath her, knuckles whitening as if it were an anchor. She looked like she was bracing herself—teetering on the edge of a decision, weighing what came next.
You hovered above her, resolve fraying, the heat of her body pulling you closer, unraveling every thread of restraint—
“…The—the door,” she whispered, voice barely audible, trembling with something fragile.
You pulled back, glancing toward it. “If I lock that, there’s no turning back.”
Her eyes flickered, wide and searching, then steadied. “I—I think it’s… it’ll be okay. If it’s you, I want it.”
The door clicked shut with her words, a soft, final sound that echoed in the quiet. You returned to her, sliding back onto the bed, looming over her frame—close enough to feel the faint tremor in her breath. “Do you even know what you just said?”
“Stop talking to me like a kid,” she snapped, her voice sharpening, though it wavered at the edges.
“That’s not an answer.” You held her gaze, unflinching. “Do you want to sleep with me?”
“Uh… yes.” The word slipped out, small and shaky, laced with fear and a defiance testing her own limits. She swallowed hard, then added, “Why? Don’t you want to?”
You shifted closer, your nose brushing hers, so near you could taste the alcohol on her breath—sharp and warm, mingling with the heat radiating off her skin. Her heavy exhales grazed your lips, and the air between you thickened, charged with something neither of you could name.
“What is this?” you murmured, half to yourself. Song Yuqi—bold, unshakable Yuqi—lay beneath you, face flushed crimson, pride crumbling into doubt. Her words stumbled, her usual fire dimmed, and you couldn’t help but press. “Are you really Yuqi?”
Maybe you were stalling too—teasing her, skirting the edge of what you both knew was coming, afraid to leap.
Then, out of nowhere, her hand shot up, smacking your chin with a clumsy shove, forcing distance between you.
“Ugh! I don’t know anymore, okay?! I haven't done this before!” she yelled, voice cracking with frustration. “Just—hurry up and show me your dick already!”
Her legs thrashed, feet flailing against the mattress in a wild, petulant burst. “You—crazy—woman” you blurt out.
You lunged forward, seizing her ankles, pinning them to the mattress with a firm, unyielding grip. “Calm down,” you said, voice low and steady, anchoring her as her chest heaved, the wild outburst dissolving into a taut, trembling stillness.
Her eyes flashed, defiant even now. “What, are you scared?”
You leaned in close, her challenge igniting something reckless in you. “You’re about to get fucked senseless.”
She smirked, unshaken, her voice a dare. “I think you’re the one who’s sca—sacred. Prove it.”
You crashed into her, lips seizing hers with raw, tongue intruding into her mouth, bruising hunger. Your hand slid up, fingers knotting in the back of her hair, yanking her closer—deeper—until no space remained, her frantic breaths fusing with yours in a desperate, unrelenting tangle.
Your other hand found her breast, cupping it firmly, and a sharp whimper broke from her throat—soft, unguarded, trembling against your mouth.
You pulled back just enough to rasp, “Do you want more? Tell me if you don’t.” “Ah!” she gasped, startled by the sudden absence of your lips, her voice faltering. “Uh—uh… it’s okay…”
You dove back in, claiming her mouth again, fiercer now, your hand slipping beneath her shirt.
Fingers roamed her chest, squeezing through the thin fabric of her bra, rucking up her clothes in the chaos. The hem of her shirt climbed past her breasts, her bra tugged askew—one pale pink nipple already peeking free, stark against her skin.
“Yu—qi,” you murmured, breaking the kiss again, though your lips hovered close, tethered by a glistening thread of saliva that refused to snap. “Do you want this?”
“I want it, yes,” she panted, breathless, her words tumbling out in a rush.
You guided her arms up, stretching them straight above her head, and she followed—pliant, trusting.
Your hands gripped the edge of her dress, peeling it upward, sliding it off in one fluid pull. Then, just as swiftly, you hooked her shorts, tugging them down as she lifted her legs to help, the fabric slipping free and pooling forgotten on the floor.
There she lay—pale skin glowing faintly in the dim light, her fit frame taut and trembling. Blonde hair spilled across the bed in wild, tangled waves, framing her like a halo gone rogue. Her white underwear clung to her hips, stark against her flush, one bra strap sagging, the displaced cup exposing a modest breast, its pink nipple hardened in the cool air. She blushed deep, one arm crossing shyly over her waist, the other hovering near her mouth, fingers brushing her lips as if to hide.
Her eyes darted away, unable to hold yours. “Why are you just staring?” she mumbled, voice small, edged with nerves she couldn’t quite mask.
You exhaled, a faint chuckle slipping out as you shook your head. “I’m just trying to figure out how you still look like a menace even when you’re—” Your words snagged mid-sentence as her glare cut through you, her cheeks blazing.
“Don’t,” she warned, voice tight.
You smirked, tilting your head. “Don’t what?”
Her eyes narrowed, sharp and accusing. “You know what.”
You leaned in, your breath grazing her skin, close enough to feel her tense. “What? I thought you lived for praise about your beauty.”
She swallowed hard, throat bobbing, fingers twisting into the sheets. Then, so soft it nearly slipped past—
“It’s different when it’s you.”
“Well, you are beautiful, Yuqi. I mean it.”
Her breath hitched at the words, a flicker of protest rising—ready to snap at your sly jab—but before she could, your lips found her neck, pressing firm and warm. Your hand slid to her breast, fingers brushing the exposed nipple, teasing it into a stiff peak.
She stiffened, a fleeting push against your chest, but it melted away fast—her resistance crumbling as you lavished her skin with attention.
“It… tickles,” she murmured, voice wobbling, half a complaint, half a surrender.
Your hand snaked behind her, deftly unhooking her bra with a flick. You tugged it free, letting it fall aside, her breasts spilling out—modest, pale, and perfect in the dim light. No hesitation—you dove in, lips closing over one nipple, sucking gently while your fingers toyed with the other, rolling it between them.
“Hey,” she gasped, a shaky laugh threading through her words, “aren’t you too good at this?”
You didn’t answer, too lost in her—her taste, her warmth, the way her whimpers grew sharper, rewarding every flick of your tongue, every pinch of your fingers. You pulled back, just enough to take her in fully—sprawled beneath you, clutching the sheets with white-knuckled desperation. Her blonde hair fanned wild across the bed, pale skin flushed deep, chest rising and falling in jagged bursts.
Your hands returned, pinching both nipples now, firm and deliberate. Her eyes—barely open—fought to hold yours, glazed with pleasure, her tongue slipping out as her mouth parted. Words failed her, dissolving into a string of moans and broken whimpers, the only sounds she could muster as she drowned in the sensation.
Wa—wait a sec…” She propped herself up against the pillow, hands darting to your face. Her fingers dug into your cheeks, pulling you in—too close, her touch firm and insistent.
“Kissing really feels good, don’t you think?” she mused, voice lilting with forced casualness. Her thumbs brushed slow, deliberate circles against your skin, betraying the act. “Especially when you feel it—you know, with tongues and everything.”
You arched a brow, amusement curling your lips. “Are you fishing for a kiss?”
She scoffed, but her hands didn’t budge, fingers lingering like they’d fused to you. “I’m just saying,” she huffed, eyes flicking aside, dodging yours. “No harm in a little discussion, right?”
You smirked, reading her like an open book—her little game, the way she circled what she craved, betting you’d cave first. “Just discussing, then?” you teased, tilting your head with mock innocence. “So I shouldn’t do it?”
Her grip faltered, a flash of panic skittering across her face. “I didn’t sa—”
She didn’t finish.
Your lips crashed into hers, silencing her protest, swallowing her words in a swift, ravenous press. Her breath snagged against your mouth, a sharp hitch—and for a fleeting second, she froze, caught off guard. Then she melted, hands slipping to grip your jaw, and before you could take control, her tongue darted forward—bold and sure, sliding into your mouth like she’d been waiting for this all along. The kiss deepened fast, tongues clashing in a messy, heated tangle, her pretense torched by the hunger she couldn’t hide.
Your hands roamed, restless—sliding down her sides, then lower, until they settled at her crotch. Fingers brushed the fabric of her panties, then slipped beneath, meeting slick heat that made your pulse jump. She was already wet, soaked through, and a low groan rumbled in your throat as you felt her.
You pulled back from the kiss, lips parting with a wet smack, and her eyes fluttered open, dazed and glassy. Your other hand hooked into her waistband, yanking the white fabric down her thighs in one rough tug, peeling it free and tossing it aside. She gasped, legs trembling as the cool air hit her bare skin.
“Already this wet?” you teased, voice gravelly, a smirk curling your lips. “You little pervert.”
Her face blazed red, embarrassment clashing with a spark of defiance in her eyes, but she didn’t pull back—her breath jagged, teetering between a snap and a whimper.
“Dum—dumbass, that’s what happens when—”
You didn’t let her finish. Your fingers pressed to her folds, slick and warm, rubbing along her slit with slow, deliberate strokes. Her grip on your neck tightened, nails biting into your skin, while her other hand fumbled to clutch your arm, trembling as her tongue slipped out, instinctive and desperate.
“Wha—what are you doing? St—stop—” she stammered, voice fracturing, but her hands betrayed her, sliding back to clutch the pillow behind her, knuckles whitening as she braced against the onslaught. “It fee—it feels weird. Really weird!” she cried, her tone pitching into a yell, raw and unraveling.
Her body locked tight for a split second—then shattered. Her back arched sharp off the bed, head snapping back into the pillow, a convulsion ripping through her as her thighs quaked. A rush of wet heat surged against your hand, her juices spilling out, soaking your fingers and dripping onto the sheets beneath. Her breath came in broken gasps, chest heaving, her tongue lolling slightly as the waves crashed over her, leaving her trembling in their wake.
“Fuck… shit…” she rasped, hands flying to cover her face, the flush so deep it seemed to bleed through her fingers, staining them red.
You blinked, caught off guard. “Why are you suddenly cursing?”
“No, no, I mean…” She peeked through her hands, voice small but edged with frustration. “Be—because my sheets… they’re all wet now.”
“Oh, uh… sor—sorry…” you muttered, heat creeping up your own neck.
Her eyes flicked to yours, still glassy from the haze, then narrowed with a glint of mischief. “Then… hurry up and take off your pants already,” she ordered, voice low and impatient.
You rose to your feet on the bed, shedding your pants and briefs in a quick, fumbling pull, letting them drop away. Your dick sprang free, hard and hovering above her as she sat back on her knees, gazing up at you. The sight alone—her pale, flushed body, blonde hair spilling wild, those sharp eyes locked on you—hit like a punch, and her intense stare only made it worse. You couldn’t hold it; your gaze skittered away, heat crawling up your neck.
“Hmmm… hey, what’s wrong?” she hummed, a smug grin creeping across her lips. “Why’re you suddenly shy now?”
“It’s reasonable with this view,” you muttered, voice snagging in your throat, barely dodging her piercing stare.
“Is that so?” Her smug grin bloomed wide, teetering on a giggle. She edged closer, her face drifting nearer—dangerously near—to your cock, so close a twitch could’ve brushed her lips. Then her hand shot out, fingers wrapping around your length, forming a tight ring just below the head. The sudden heat of her grip hit you hard—soft skin, firm pressure, a jolt of warmth that shot straight up your spine, making your breath catch and your hips tense instinctively. She started stroking, slow and deliberate, her palm sliding smooth against you, each pull tugging a raw, electric pulse through your core. “How is it? Is it okay? Does it feel good? Does it hurt?”
“You know, for someone who doesn’t know what she’s doing, you’re pretty damn bold,” you said, half-breathless, a smirk tugging despite the way her touch was unraveling you—every stroke a tease, her fingers tight enough to edge you toward losing it.
She ignored you, eyes flicking up with a glint of mischief, her hand keeping its rhythm—steady, maddening, the friction building heat that made your thighs twitch. “Doesn’t it feel good? Are you in paradise yet? You can cum—go ahead, it’s fine! Cum quick! Why aren’t you cumming? What’s wrong?!” Her questions tumbled out, fast and insistent, voice rising with a mix of glee and frustration.
“Yuqi, calm down,” you managed, voice straining as her pace quickened your pulse, her grip coaxing a throb you could barely hold back. “It doesn’t work like that.”
“It’s so warm,” she said, a grin tugging at her lips, “I could use it as a hand warmer.”
“Then tell me when you’re cold next time,” you shot back, half-jesting, legs trembling as you teetered between giving in to the pleasure and laughing at her ridiculous innocence. “I’ll whip it out for you.”
Her hand stilled mid-stroke, eyes snapping up to meet yours—sharp, focused, like she’d just clocked her next move and was weighing whether to go for it. Then she did. Her lips parted, soft and tentative, brushing against your tip. She pressed forward, mouth opening wider, her tongue flicking out to guide you in, warm and wet as it curled around the head.
She lingered there, treating it like a lollipop—licking slow, deliberate laps, tilting her head with each pass as if testing every angle. Her movements were clumsy, unpracticed—teeth grazing you now and then, a faint scrape that sent a jolt through you. A stray thought flickered: She might actually bite it.
And then, as if she’d snatched the thought right out of your skull, the ever-impulsive Yuqi went for it. Her teeth clamped down—not hard, just a quick pinch—sending a jolt of shock and a strange, sharp thrill spiking up your spine.
“Fuck—let go, you dumbass!” You yanked yourself back, pulling free from her mouth with a hiss.
“What the hell made you think biting it was a good idea?!”
“Ahh, sorry, sorry—I’m really sorry!” she blurted, eyes wide with panic, guilt flooding her face so fast it almost convinced you she didn’t mean it. “I didn’t even realize what I was doing!”
“Song Yuqi, get over here,” you said, voice firm, cutting through her fluster.
“Ar—are you okay?” she stammered, inching closer, her tone softening like a scolded puppy caught in the act. “Looks like you’re fine, though…”
You tugged her by her waist, laying her flat on the bed, your hand curling around her hip to pull her close. Fingers traced a slow, deliberate path from her knees up to her core, brushing her skin with intent. “Why’d you try to bite me? Do you want to be scolded, is that it?”
She turned her head, dodging your stare, her voice sinking to a sheepish mumble. “It looked delicious… so I thought I’d take a bite…”
You leaned in, capturing her lips again, kissing her deep and slow as you shifted between her thighs. Your hands nudged her legs apart, her skin warm and trembling under your touch. Your cock brushed her folds—slick, hot, a fleeting graze that made her breath hitch against your mouth.
You pulled back, eyes dropping to your shaft, guiding it with a steady hand. Your tip nudged her entrance, teasing her pussy with shallow dips, testing her heat. “Yuqi, you want to keep going?”
“Huh… How—how many times are you gonna ask?” she huffed, voice quivering, each word stuttering in time with the faint pulses of your cock against her. “Are you deaf…?”
You pressed in, your tip slipping past her entrance, sinking just enough to feel her tighten around you. A whimper spilled from her lips, quick and sharp, and you froze. “Are you alright? Should I go slower…?”
“Y—yes…!” she gasped, breaths shallow and ragged, holding them like she could trap the sensation inside.
“Yuqi, I want you to be comfortable,” you murmured, voice low, careful. “Tell me if it hurts—”
“Hey…” Her eyes glimmered, wet with tears—some already streaking down her flushed cheeks. She grabbed one wrist with her other hand, pinning her arms above her head, a shaky attempt at control. “Fu—fucking a beauty like me must feel good, right…?”
Even now, she bluffed—voice cracking, bravado fraying—but she wasn’t wrong. She felt incredible, her walls gripping you tight, pulsing hot around the bare inch you’d slipped inside, coaxing you deeper despite her trembling.
“…You just want to keep messing with me, don’t you…?” she murmured, eyes glinting through the haze.
“You keep doing it too,” you shot back, a faint smirk tugging at your lips.
“I’m gonna move a little,” you said, voice low. “Tell me if it hurts.”
“Mmhh,” she hummed, nodding faintly, her breath already shallow.
You pressed deeper, sliding slow and steady, her heat swallowing you inch by inch. Her body tensed, a soft gasp escaping as you sank further.
“Does it hurt?” you asked, pausing. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she whispered, voice thin but firm, her eyes locked on yours.
“Then I’ll move a little more…?”
Your hands slid to her thighs, fingers digging into her soft flesh as you pulled her closer, burying your entire length inside her in one smooth thrust. She clenched around you, a tight, wet pulse that made your breath hitch.
“You’re really okay…?”
“Yeah… I’m good,” she managed, a shaky edge to her words. “Just… carry on, alright…?”
You grabbed her wrists, pinning them between you, tugging them toward your chest as you started to pump—slow at first, each thrust deliberate, feeling her stretch and yield. Her breath stuttered, eyes fluttering shut.
“Wha—what’s this… it feels so weird…” she gasped, voice breaking as her body rocked beneath you.
You quickened your pace, pounding faster, harder—stamina leaching with every sharp snap of your hips. Her moans poured out, jagged and piercing, swelling louder as you drove into her. Then, with a final thrust—deeper, fiercer than the rest—you buried yourself to the hilt, her head whipping back into the pillow, back bowing high off the bed. A raw, guttural moan ripped from her throat, her body quaking beneath you, clenching tight around your cock.
Out of breath, you propped yourself up on your arms, hovering over her sweat-slick frame. “Yuqi, you sure you’re okay? Should I go slower?”
She groaned, rolling her eyes despite the flush on her cheeks. “I told you I’m fine already—”
Her complaint drowned as you thrust back in, cutting her off, plunging deep to reclaim your rhythm. Her moans sang out again, sharp and sweet, and you drank them in, one hand finding her breast—cupping it firm, kneading the soft flesh, her nipple stiff and pressing into your palm like a needy pulse. You used it as leverage, anchoring yourself as you rocked into her.
“Raise your back,” you ordered, voice rough. She obeyed, arching up, and your hands slid to her waist, gripping her hips tight. With the new angle, you pulled her against you, thrusting harder, each slam sinking you deeper—her heat swallowing you, slick and tight, tugging you toward the brink.
The edge hit fast. Her walls spasmed around you, hot and relentless, a sudden, vise-like grip that yanked you over. You groaned low, thrusts stuttering as you came—thick, pulsing spurts flooding her, the wet heat of her pussy milking every last drop, a dizzying rush that blurred your senses. Yuqi shattered with you—her moans spiking into a broken cry, legs trembling, nails clawing the sheets as her climax tore through her. Her core clenched hard, a gush of warmth soaking you both, her body bucking against yours in wild, shuddering waves.
Exhausted, you slumped toward her, chest heaving. She met you halfway, mouth open, greedy—her lips crashing into yours, tongue darting out to pull yours in, tangling with a sloppy, desperate edge as she rode out the aftershocks pressed against you.
~🐶~
Yuqi teetered on the edge of consciousness, drunk on pleasure, her mind barely clinging to coherence in the quiet lull. She slumped back against you, her spine pressing into your chest as you hugged her tight from behind, your back braced against the headboard. Her breath came slow, ragged, her body limp yet humming with the afterglow.
Exhausted but not sated, she stirred as your hands roamed again. One slid to her breast, cupping it gently, fingers teasing the still-hard nipple—rolling it slow, coaxing a faint shiver from her. The other dipped lower, finding her clit, rubbing soft circles against the swollen bud. Her folds, slick and warm, rested heavy against your dick, subtly coating it with her dripping heat, a fresh trickle of her arousal seeping out as her body woke anew. She squirmed, a sleepy moan slipping free, her hips twitching instinctively into your touch—chasing more despite the haze.
Her mind spun, fragmented thoughts flickering through the haze: What should I do??
I’m actually doing it with him—with you.
Having sex with my friend—with you, of all people.
Yuqi’s thoughts snapped off, severed by a single, brutal thrust as you plunged back into her. Her body jolted, pinned tight against yours—your arms clamped around her, refusing her even an inch to squirm. A raw, involuntary moan tore from her throat, heat flooding her core as your cock filled her again, stretching her slick walls with a sudden, relentless pressure that made her head spin.
“You—you jerk!” she gasped, voice fracturing, each word sliced by whimpers and moans she couldn’t choke back. “Why did you suddenly—” Her sentence crumbled, drowned by the waves of pleasure rippling through her, your thrusts relentless, robbing her of breath and coherence. Her hand shot back, fingers tangling in your hair, yanking you closer in a clumsy, desperate retaliation—her nails scraping your scalp as she fought to reclaim some control.
“Fuck! It… feels so… good…” she moaned, the confession spilling out, her voice thick with surrender. Every slam of your hips sent a jolt through her—her insides clenching tight around you, a tingling heat pooling low, her thighs trembling against the onslaught.
Yuqi twisted her head toward you, lips parting, tongue lolling out in a silent plea. You met her halfway, your mouth crashing into hers, tongues tangling in a sloppy, wet mess—her saliva mixing with yours, sharp and bitter on her tastebuds, a hungry edge to the kiss that made her dizzy.
You paused, buried deep inside her, your length a thick, unyielding pressure stretching her core. Your voice rasped hot against her ear, rough and taunting. “Yuqi, why are you moaning so loud? You’re a total pervert, aren’t you?” Your hand clamped onto her breast, squeezing hard, fingers catching her nipple—pinching with a sharp twist that sent a jolt of heat stabbing through her chest, her skin tingling, raw under your grip.
“Wha—what?” The sudden stillness yanked her from her euphoria, your words sparking a flare of annoyance in her hazy mind. “I’m not a pervert! This is because—”
Her protest died as she felt you shift inside her—a subtle, deliberate twitch, just enough to press against her walls, sending a fresh ripple of pleasure curling through her belly. A whimper slipped out, soft and traitorously loud, snuffing her temper before it could catch.
“Is it because it doesn’t hurt anymore?” you teased, voice low, your breath grazing her neck. “You’re fully fitted to my cock now, is that it?” It wasn’t just a taunt—it was a truth she couldn’t dodge. She felt it: her body molded to you, slick and tight, every inch of her clinging like she’d been made for this. Denial burned on her tongue, but her silence betrayed her.
For a heartbeat, the air hung thick—then Yuqi felt it again. Your cock twitched inside her, a sudden, firm pulse that nudged against her walls, straining the tight grip she had on you. She barely registered it before your hands tightened on her hips, lifting her ass higher mid-thrust. The motion shoved her forward, a sharp jolt rocking through her core as you pumped harder, still buried deep. Her arms buckled under the force, knees skidding across the sheets, and she scrambled to catch herself—landing on all fours, ass propped high, her body trembling from the hot, aching stretch where you stayed lodged inside her.
“What are you—?!” she yelped, voice splintering, but before she could twist or protest, your weight shifted forward. You followed her down, pressing against her back—a solid, unrelenting heat pinning her in place as you kept thrusting, relentless, your rhythm unbroken, each slam sinking deeper into her slick, pulsing core.
uqi’s hand flailed back, fingers scrabbling for purchase against your relentless, rabid thrusts—each one slamming into her with a force that made her core throb and ache, a wild rhythm she couldn’t match. Tears streaked her cheeks, her cries spilling out sharp and broken as the pleasure drowned her, too much, too fast. Her grip faltered, and the bed seemed to tilt—your weight unsteady above her. In a clumsy tangle, you both toppled sideways, crashing onto the sheets. But the fall didn’t slow you—your hips kept pumping, unbothered, and now she was trapped. Your arms snaked around her, pinning her own against her chest, locking her tight in your embrace. She moaned helplessly, voice raw and trembling, as you ravaged her hole—each thrust a deep, merciless plunge that wrecked her from the inside out.
Then it hit—a sudden, electric shock blasted through Yuqi, sharp and blinding. Your cock struck her G-spot, a precise, brutal nudge that made her walls clamp down hard, a scream tearing from her throat as her body bucked wildly against you. You caught it—your rhythm shifted fast, seizing the moment. One hand hooked under her thigh, hoisting her leg up, twisting her into a scissoring sprawl. The angle split her open, and you drove deeper—impossibly deeper—your length grinding that spot with every thrust, a hot, pulsing pressure that sent shudders racing up her spine. Her slick heat drenched you, her core spasming out of control, and she couldn’t stop it—the moans, the tremors, the way her body gave in completely to the chaos you unleashed inside her.
Both of you gasped for air, a brief break settling in as your bodies stilled. The position shifted naturally—Yuqi’s eyes stayed clamped shut, too heavy to lift under the intensity, even now in the quiet. She couldn’t see, but she felt your shadow loom over her, your presence hovering close, a dark heat she sensed through her haze.
“Yuqi, get up,” you said, voice rough. She obeyed, dragging herself upright, though her lids barely cracked open—exhaustion weighing them down. You pulled her onto your lap, her thighs straddling yours, facing you. Your thrusts resumed, slower now, and she felt your mouth on her breast—lips sucking, tongue flicking her nipple, a wet, warm pull that sparked faint jolts through her chest. Her arms trembled as she propped herself against you.
Slowly, you reclined back, and Yuqi’s hands slid to the headboard, gripping it for balance. She didn’t know when it happened—her mind too foggy to track—but she realized she was moving, humping you on her own, hips rolling instinctively against your steady length. Her pace faltered, exhaustion creeping in, slowing her down. Then you took over—your hands gripped her hips, and you pumped up into her again, reigniting the fire in her core with each thrust.
Her hand shot to your hair, fingers twisting tight, yanking your face close. Her tongue lolled out, desperate, and you met it—your tongue tangling with hers, a sloppy, wet dance that tasted of sweat and need. “Hug me,” she rasped, tongue still out, voice thick. “Hug me,” she begged again, more frantic, a plea trembling on her lips.
Yuqi felt you overpower her—your arms wrapped around her, pulling her down until she crashed onto her back. She clung to you, arms looping around your neck, legs locking tight around your waist, holding you deep inside her. Any second now, she knew it—both of you teetering on the edge. Her thighs parted wider, welcoming your thrusts, her body aching for release.
Then it came. Her orgasm hit like a tidal wave—her walls seized around you, spasming hard, a gush of heat flooding her core as she shattered. She felt you pull out mid-clench, your cock slipping free, and a split second later, the hot, thick splatter of your cum streaked across her skin—her belly, her thighs—branding her as her own climax pulsed through. Her moans choked off, her vision blurred, and her consciousness slipped away, fading to black as the last shudder rocked her limp frame.
~~~
Yuqi woke up to warmth—soft fabric against her skin, the dull ache in her limbs, and the distant hum of the world outside.
Her brows furrowed, still caught in the haze of sleep, but something felt… off. The scent in the air wasn’t quite hers. The bed didn’t feel quite right.
Then, as she shifted, the sensation of bare skin against unfamiliar sheets jolted her fully awake.
Her eyes snapped open. Sunlight streamed through her curtains, too bright, too loud, as her pulse pounded in her ears. Her room. She was in her room. But—
The sheets. They weren’t hers.
Panic flared in her chest as fragments of last night started to piece themselves together.
Her breath hitched.
Oh. Oh, shit.
She sat up too fast, wincing as soreness bloomed through her body. That was another thing—the ache in her muscles, the evidence of everything she’d done, everything she’d let happen.
And then, finally, she noticed—
The oversized shirt slipping past her shoulder, familiar but not hers.
Your shirt. Her grip on the fabric tightened.
This wasn’t happening.
But the soreness in her body told her it was. The unfamiliar sheets told her it was. Your shirt draped over her skin—your scent clinging to it—told her it was.
Yuqi’s breath came uneven as the full weight of what she’d done crashed over her.
She’d slept with you.
You.
Her friend. Her longtime friend.
A sharp pang of regret twisted in her chest, not because she hadn’t wanted it—God, that was the worst part—she had wanted it. She had kissed you back, had let you undress her, had clung to you like you were the only thing keeping her grounded.
But she hadn’t expected it. Not like this. Not when she wasn’t ready to risk everything.
Not when it could ruin you.
She raked her hands through her hair, cursing under her breath. How the hell did she let it get this far? How the hell did she let herself fall?
The silence of the room felt suffocating. And you—where were you? Were you regretting it too? Were you somewhere in the apartment, figuring out how to tell her this was a mistake?
Her stomach churned at the thought.
The smell of food drifted into the room, warm and familiar.
Yuqi swallowed hard, gripping the edge of the bedsheet.
You’re cooking.
That meant you were still here. That meant you hadn’t run off in regret, hadn’t left her alone in this mess she didn’t know how to clean up.
Maybe… maybe it’s not too late.
If she just acted normal—if she pretended last night was a mistake, a stupid, drunken slip-up—maybe things wouldn’t have to change.
Maybe she wouldn’t have to lose you.
Yuqi exhaled sharply, pressing her fingers to her temples. Her thoughts spiraled, one after the other, faster than she could catch them.
What if you wanted to forget too? What if you were in the kitchen right now, thinking of ways to brush it off, to laugh about it, to shove it in the back of your minds where it could rot, untouched?
Could you both really pretend it didn’t happen? Could she?
She forced herself out of bed, her legs weak beneath her, the oversized fabric of your shirt hanging off her frame. She had to face you. She had to fix this before it shattered into something she couldn’t repair.
With careful steps, she made her way to the kitchen.
And there you were. Standing by the stove, spatula in hand, acting like this was just any other morning.
Her chest clenched.
Maybe it could be. Maybe if she played it right, you could go back.
She took a deep breath, steadied herself, then tried.
“So,” she started, keeping her voice light. Too light. “What’s for breakfast, chef?”
You turned slightly, meeting her gaze. And for a second—just a second—something flickered in your expression.
Something unreadable.
But then you smirked. “Figured you’d need something to get your strength back after last night.”
Her stomach dropped.
She forced a laugh. “Oh, shut up.”
You plated the food, setting it on the counter. “Not hungry?”
Yuqi hesitated. Her fingers curled around the hem of your shirt—her only layer of protection against the vulnerability clawing up her throat.
This was slipping. She could feel it.
“Look,” she said, trying to sound casual, like she wasn’t barely holding herself together. “Last night was… you know. We were drunk, and it just… happened.”
You didn’t respond immediately. Instead, you grabbed a glass of water, taking a slow sip before setting it down.
Then, you leveled her with a look.
“And?”
Yuqi blinked. “And?”
You leaned against the counter, arms crossing over your chest. “Are you trying to say it was a mistake?”
Her mouth opened. Nothing came out.
Because that’s not what she meant—not really.
But if she didn’t say it, if she didn’t put that distance back, she didn’t know what would happen.
She didn’t know if she could handle what would happen.
“I just think,” she tried again, voice weaker this time, “that we should just… go back. Like before. We don’t have to—”
“Yuqi. You know that's bullshit.”
She froze.
"That was four cans between us. You can drink five alone and still balance on a pole—don't act like that was the reason.”
The way you said her name—steady, firm, like you’d already made up your mind—it made her stomach twist.
“Before isn’t an option,” you said simply.
Four cans.
That’s all it was. Just four stupid cans.
And yet, here you were, looking at her like you were about to ruin everything.
The air in the room shifted—her room, but suddenly it didn’t feel like hers anymore. The sheets smelled like you, the oversized shirt hanging off her shoulders wasn’t hers either. Nothing felt like hers anymore, not even her own body, sore in places she had no right to acknowledge.
Her stomach twisted, panic crawling up her throat. No. No, no, no—
Her gaze dropped to the floor, unable—unwilling—to look at you. If she saw your face, if she saw the regret, the indifference, or worse, the pity—it would break her.
“I didn’t mean for this to happen,” she blurted, voice thin, barely holding together. Maybe if she said it first, if she got ahead of it, she could stop whatever came next.
But then—
“Yuqi, being friends with you has been fun, but—”
But.
That one word shattered everything.
No. Not like this. Not you.
“But what?” Her voice cracked, too raw, too exposed. “Is that it? Over just like that?”
You didn’t say anything, and it made her chest tighten, like her ribs were caving in.
“Did you hate it that much?” she forced out, her hands fisting in the fabric of the sheets.
“No, Yuqi, not like that. Let me talk—”
“To what? To hear your excuse?” Her voice rose, frantic now. “How can you talk so calmly? Is that how it is? I’m the only one who actually valued this friendship? I make one mistake, and you’re already ready to leave?”
“Yuqi. Look at me.”
There was a weight in the way you said her name—stern, unyielding—but she didn’t want to hear it. Couldn’t.
Her breath hitched. Her hands trembled as she dug them into the mattress, nails pressing into the fabric, grounding herself.
“Why can’t you just stay?” Her voice was barely above a whisper now, desperate, fraying at the edges. “I’m sorry, okay? This—this was a one-time thing. That’s it. So you don’t have to leave. It doesn’t mean anything.”
It was a lie. A pathetic, miserable lie.
But if saying it kept you from walking away, then she’d let it shatter her.
Except—
Before she could breathe, before she could take it back—
Your lips crashed into hers.
You knew what she was thinking. You knew how much she was spiraling, how the weight of her own fears was crushing her. And maybe—probably—it was best to just tell her, to stop her panic before it got any worse.
But watching her like this, hopelessly caught in her own misunderstanding, her pride stripped away, her vulnerability laid bare… you couldn’t help but find her cute.
So you kissed her.
When you pulled away, her breath was shaky, her wide eyes darting between yours.
“Will you listen to me now?”
She nodded—barely, hesitantly—before her gaze dropped back to the floor.
You sighed. “Yuqi, we’ve been friends for a while—”
Her head shot up so fast you almost laughed. Her eyes were glassy, lips parted as if she was about to say something—
But before she could, you kissed her again, swallowing whatever words she had.
“We’ve been friends for a while,” you repeated against her lips, softer this time. “And I thought we were always going to stay that way. But this past year…”
She was shaking now, small, uneven trembles as her tears finally spilled over. She pouted, biting her lip, trying so hard to keep it together. You placed a hand on her head, fingers threading through her hair, petting her gently.
That was the trigger.
The dam broke.
Her shoulders shook as she let out a muffled, choked sob, burying her face into your chest.
You couldn’t help but chuckle. “But this past year, Yuqi…” You wiped her tears away with your thumbs, tilting her face up so she had no choice but to look at you. “I realized how dumb I was to keep thinking of you as just a friend. An amazing woman like you—you’re funny, you’re smart, you work hard, you’re pre—beautiful, and above all, you’re confident in everything you do…”
Then, with a smirk, you added, “And it’s absolutely hilarious when you’re wrong.”
She punched you—hard enough to send the message, but too weak to actually hurt.
“What I’m trying to say is, I like you. And just like you, I was scared of losing you too, Yuqi.”
She sniffled, hastily wiping at her face, the reality of your words finally sinking in.
“…That’s why, um—”
“What?!”
“I’m asking—can we be together?”
Her breath hitched.
And then, with no warning, the tears came rushing back as she smacked your chest. “Of course we can, you idiot! Why didn’t you say that first?!”
You had no excuse, only laughter. You pulled her into your arms, and she clung to you just as tightly.
“Yuqi…” you whispered, lips brushing against her ear.
You kissed her cheek. Then her forehead. Then her lips. Slowly, tenderly, you moved downward, pressing soft kisses along her jaw, her neck—
And then, a loud growl rumbled through the silence.
Yuqi stiffened.
You froze.
And then—
You let out a loud snort.
Yuqi turned bright red. “Don’t—don’t laugh! I hate you.”
You grinned, pulling away just enough to meet her eyes. “I like you.”
She huffed, still flustered.
You raised an eyebrow, teasing. “Do you at least like my cooking?”
Her voice was small, barely above a mumble.
“…I—I like it.”
You smirked, reaching for her hand, your fingers brushing her sweat-damp skin. “Then come on, let’s eat before you actually pass out on me.”
But just as you turned toward the kitchen, a sharp tug yanked you back.
Her grip was firm on your wrist.
“What is it?” you asked, pivoting to face her.
Yuqi hadn’t moved, her body squirming slightly, thighs pressing together. Her hands fisted over the oversized shirt—your shirt—clutching the fabric low over her stomach like she could hide her itch you could scratch away. Her chest heaved, tits straining against the fabric, nipples poking through—already hard from the kiss earlier. Her face was red, not from embarrassment of her stomach, but from the heat that you just have built up.
She was still breathless, her chest rising and falling unevenly, her skin flushed in a way that had nothing to do with exhaustion.
And her eyes—dark, hungry, locked onto you like she was barely holding herself back.
Your grin deepened.
You leaned in, close enough that she could feel the heat of your breath against her lips, but not close enough to give her what she wanted.
“Let’s eat first,” you murmured, your voice low, teasing.
Then, smirking, you added, “After, you can beg me to fuck you again.”
She shook, a quick, horny tremble.
And just like that, you pulled away, already heading toward the kitchen.
You didn’t have to look back to know she was still standing there, fuming, frustrated, and—most of all—waiting.
a/n: thanks for reading, also thoughts on the switching pov while maintaining 2nd pov ("you" pronoun)? Or is using 3rd person pov when in idols pov better?
#yuqi smut#gidle smut#male reader smut#kpop smut#smut#kpop fanfic#kpop fluff#idol x reader#idol x male reader#qwilorg#qwib-short-story#yuqi#qwib-idle
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𝓻𝓪𝓯𝓮𝔂𝓼𝓬𝓾𝓻𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓫𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓼
𝙽𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚢 𝙻𝚒𝚜𝚝 | 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬
𝔻𝕒𝕪 𝕊𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕟: ℂ𝕒𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕥
𝚃𝚘𝚙𝙶𝚞𝚗!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙼𝚊𝚢𝚋𝚊𝚗𝚔’𝚜𝚂𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛



warnings: Skype sex, mentions of a sex tape, mutual masterbation, use of sex toys, cum tasting, getting caught, swearing, name calling, pet names, long-distance relationship, ownership kink, dirty talk, praise
📖 Spoilers: All of my asks got deleted 😭💕, so I’m not sure who requested this, but thank you! The premise is that you have been secretly dating Rafe for 6 months, and you finally get caught.
Reader’s POV:
The first time, you told yourself it was a mistake. A one-time-thing. A moment of weakness between you and the man that everyone seemed to hate for one reason or another. After all, Rafe Cameron was trouble—a notorious fuckboy, arrogant, abrasive, and rude, just to name a few of his negative attributes that got shit-talked in the château anytime his name got brought up. But you couldn’t stay away…
There was just something about him—the quiet moments. The moments that he reserved for you and you alone. When he let his guard down. And now here you are, six months into a secret relationship with the man your brother and friends despised. Exchanging I love you’s with your best friend's brother, putting that friendship at risk, but it was worth it for him.
You sit in front of your laptop, crisscross on your bed, your phone in hand as you scroll social media, trying to distract yourself. Rafe was gonna call at 8 o’clock sharp— he was rarely late. His new lifestyle making him a little more punctual than usual.
You steal glances at yourself in the reflection of your laptop, unsure of how to feel as you see yourself. The two of you usually talk on FaceTime, leaving you feeling slightly distorted from the lens. But it would be worth it. You couldn’t wait to watch that little video you sent him earlier. The video you captured on your phone before he left for pilot training school— the video you took for moments just like this.
8:30… You look at the time in the corner of your laptop, feeling your heart flutter. You could hear the muffled sound of the movie playing from behind the door, thankful that they were still committed to relaxing instead of going out, just hoping one of them wouldn’t knock on the door for something from the room; your fingers crossed that Rafe would show up any second so you could at least have 30-minutes and the group wouldn’t question why your “online class” was going so long.
Ding. Your eyes brighten as you hear the unfamiliar notification, making butterflies swirl in your stomach as you see his beautiful face pop up on your screen. He’s breathless, the fringe of his toffee-colored hair falling messily across his sweat-glistened forehead. Rafe, most likely running from the flight line all the way to his apartment.
He huffs out a deep breath through a wide smile. His Navy flight suit hangs half-open, revealing his skin-tight shirt underneath— just a glimpse of his gold chain poking out the top. He lowers his head, catching his breath, giving you the perfect glimpse of his sharp jawline. His beautiful blue eyes rest on the screen as he runs his fingers through his hair, pushing it back in place.
“Hey, baby,” he pants as a smile tugs on the corners of his lips. “I kept you waitin’, princess. I’m sorry.” He softens his voice for you.
“It’s alright, handsome,” you say sweetly as you lean in a little closer— your heart already racing for the boy on the other side of the screen, somehow making you feel giddy on the other side of the country as always, without fail.
Rafe leans back on his couch, adjusting the camera slightly, lifting his phone with a smile. “Got that video you sent me, sweetheart.”
”You did,” you giggle as you bite your lip, watching his smile spread a little wider.
”Mhmm… At lunch. In front of everyone. And I had to act like I wasn’t lookin’ at the sexiest thing I had ever fuckin’ seen…” He drawls, his voice husky and warm. “Couldn’t concentrate on shit for the rest of the day.”
“I’m sorry, baby,” you breathe, and you do mean it, knowing the risks of his position.
“Don’t be… No way you’re apologizing for that, princess. You are the best distraction.” You feel your cheeks warm up at the compliment and the look in his eyes. Your mind races away to what the two of you would do if you were there right now. “You’re thinkin’ about it too, aren’t you?” Rafe smirks as he tilts forward, moving closer to the screen, resting his elbow on his thighs.
Rafe’s arm muscles flex unintentionally—his gold chain tumbling out of his shirt, dangling from his neck, bringing you back to all those moments you were underneath him, watching it swing in front of you with each thrust.
“I am… You wanna watch it with me?”
”Oh my god,” he laughs lustfully as he pulls the rest of the top of his flight suit off. “Yeah, baby… I wanna watch the video of me pounding into that sweet pussy of yours,” he chuckles sinfully. “Let me see your outfit first. Yeah?”
“Mhmm… Yeah. Only if you take off your shirt for me,” you counter, watching the corners of his eyes crinkle as his smile grows.
“Yes, ma'am,” he hums as he stands up from the couch, pulling his uniform the rest of the way down his thighs. He sits on the edge of the couch, ripping his shirt over his head, making you dizzy.
“Rafe…” You swoon as you crawl a little closer to the camera to get a better look; your satin cami draws away from your breasts, giving him a taste of your tits underneath. “You look so good, baby.” He lounges back on the couch in his white Calvin Klein boxers, his abs even more cut than the last time you saw him, his big, broad chest on full display.
“Take it off, princess,” he rasps with a subtle dominance.
You step off the bed, letting him see the satin cami and shorts he had sent you a few days back. You turn to the side slightly as he drinks you in, the high-cut sides showing off your thighs and hips just right, the draping on the sides of the top showing off the curves of your tits. “Fuck, you look good,” he praises, and you smile. You lift your fingers as he watches you carefully, brushing off one strap, then the other, letting the top fall around your hips before pulling it all the way off, leaving you in his favorite lace panties.
Rafe’s eyes roll back at the sight of you, a hungry moan falling from his perfect lips. You watch his hands squeeze his muscular thighs, fighting back the urge to palm his thick bulge, but the desire is too strong. You loop your fingers around your panties, and it’s all over. Rafe’s lip tucks between his teeth as he rests his hand against his cock, already rock-hard, rubbing himself over the thin white cotton.
“You ready, Daddy?” You ask, using that pet name that drives him insane as you walk toward the camera.
“Love when you call me that. Fuck, you’re drivin’ me crazy,” he sighs. You grab your phone, looking at the thumbnail of the video you captured. Lifting your finger, you push it as Rafe does the same.
You can hear the two of you on Rafe’s end, frowning at your phone when nothing comes out. You turn your phone to the side, checking if it is silenced, pressing the volume button rapidly, not wanting to ruin the moment.
“You havin’ trouble, baby?” Rafe asks, tilting his head in concern.
“Yeah… I’m sorry,” you mutter frustratedly.
“WHAT THE FUCK!” You hear your brother’s voice bellow from outside the door, feet pounding down the hall the next moment. JJ’s fists bang against the entry, bolts rattling with the impact, sending a surge of panic through you.
Your eyes widen in horror as you check the settings on your phone, the Bluetooth icon illuminated and connected to the living room speakers. Shit. Shit. Shit.
“Rafe, everyone heard,” you whisper, seeing the panic in his eyes too.
You turn the laptop towards the wall as JJ continues to fight against the wooden door, threatening to break it down. You scramble around your room, finding a random hoodie before opening the door.
“JJ, it’s fine! I-” You pant as he barges in, his face beet-red with anger.
“Who the fuck are you talkin to, huh? ‘Cause I know it ain’t Rafe Cameron,” he spits as he scans the room. His frantic eyes look down at your phone, catching a quick glance at the paused video. His eyes slam shut in disgust before his expression twists in disbelief. “That video,” he points at your phone. “Everyone fuckin’ heard it… E v e r y o n e.”
Your body trembles with adrenaline as you look back into his wild blue eyes. “I’m so sorry,” you stammer as the blood drains from your face. Your embarrassment peaks as you look over JJ’s shoulder, seeing your friends gathered in the hall.
There’s a slight rustle from your computer—the most minor sound—but JJ immediately catches it. His eyes narrow on your laptop, and he walks toward it slowly. Turning around, he sees your boyfriend in a Navy hoodie and white boxers, confirming all his fears.
”You’ve gotta be kiddin’ me,” JJ snarls. “You’re fuckin’ with him? HIM? Are you serious right now?”
“JJ,” Rafe calls him firmly from the other end of the computer. “You gotta back off, man.”
JJ sucks his teeth and smiles maniacally at you before turning it around. “Stay away from her, Rafe,” JJ snaps, his voice deep and dangerous.
“She’s my girlfriend, Maybank. I’m not gonna do that,” Rafe keeps calm for the moment.
“Your girlfriend? My sister is your girlfriend? What the fuck is happening right now?”
“Calm down,” Rafe warns but it does nothing but piss him off more.
“You’re tellin’ me to calm down? Do you know who you are? You’re a piece of shit, man. She’s not just some Pogue girl you can collect, alright?”
“I’m not like that with her,” Rafe shoots back. “I’m good to her. I love her.”
JJ scoffs and laughs as he leans into the camera. “Like hell you do. You treat everyone like shit—”
“Not her,” Rafe stops him before he can finish. “She’s different. And I’ve been different because of her. This ain’t the same shit, man. We’ve been together for months, and she didn’t want to say anything because she knew this shit would happen and so did I.”
JJ hesitates, his jaw coiling, the weight of Rafe’s words hanging heavy in the air. JJ looks back at you, a silent conversation shared as you affirm Rafe’s words with a glance.
“I need to know you’re alright…”
“I love him, Jayj,” you reply, loud enough for Rafe to hear, too. “He’s really good to me-” JJ turns toward Rafe, not wanting to hear more than he has to.
“If you hurt her, Rafe, you’re done. Got it?” He snaps. “I don’t give a fuck where you are or how far away it is, I’ll fucking kill you.”
“I’m not gonna hurt her,” Rafe assures. As soon as the last word leaves his lips, JJ storms out.
You run toward the door, taking a deep breath as you relax your back into it, feeling more relieved in this moment than you had in months, even after everything that’d just happened. 
You smile weakly, looking toward the camera as you walk toward Rafe.
“Well, that could have gone worse,” you respire.
He hangs his head, nodding in agreement. “Considering it’s him and I, I’ll take it as a win, princess. No more sneakin’ around.”
“No more sneaking around… Finally,” you throw your voice, inviting Rafe back to the previous conversation with a look.
“Shit, you’re still up for it, baby?” He laughs as he reaches for the bottom of his sweatshirt, pulling it off, revving you up even more.
“I am,” you breathe, feeling the weight lifted off your shoulders.
“So you’re tellin’ me I get all night with you, princess? Now that everyone knows you’re mine, I get you whenever I’d like. Yeah?”
“Anytime you'd like,” you whisper as you tug your sweatshirt over your head.
“It’s about time…” He licks his lips as he looks back at you.
“I want you so bad, Rafe,” you sigh. He pitches his hips, pulling his boxers down as he looks at you, his hard dick slapping against his tanned skin.
Rafe lets out a throaty moan as he wraps his fingers around his cock, hissing at the sudden contact, tugging a few times before circling his thumb on his tip, spreading around his precum as you’d do with your tongue.
“Just wanna look at you, sweetheart. We don’t need that video. Aight? Not yet. I can't take my eyes off you. I want you to focus on me… Can you do that, princess?”
You climb on the bed, moving closer to the screen. “I can do that for you, Daddy.”
“Mpfhh…” He grunts as he fists his cock a little quicker, dreaming about all the things he’d do to you. “If I were there, I’d be buried in your pussy—start slow, get you off a few times with my mouth, pushing my tongue deep before stuffing you full of my cock, princess.”
“I don’t get to suck you off?” You ask breathily as you arch your back for him, showing off your ass.
“You want that, baby?” He asks through a smile.
“I need that, Rafe,” you flirt as you shift slightly, reaching under your pillow to grab your pink, sparkly toy.
“Fuck yeah. I want it all. I want you here,” he chuckles. “Baby… Shittt,” he buzzes as he realizes what you have in your hand, yet another gift from him.
You tap the tip against your pillowy lips before laying out your tongue, doing the same as his breathing quickens, his opposite hand gripping his thigh tight.
“Jesus fuck… Put it in your mouth, baby. All the way in. Suck on it for me,” he rasps.
“Anything for you…”
“Atta girl…”
His muscles stutter, that little video you sent him earlier edging his mind all day with thoughts of fucking you senseless. “Look what you do to me… Been thinkin’ about you all goddamn day. M’gonna bust before I even get to watch you put it in…” Rafe affirms your thoughts, and you giggle deviously. “You little brat… This is what you wanted didn't you.”
You poke your tongue in your cheek nodding in reply.
Rafe looks at you half-lidded; his bottom lip swollen and red from biting down so hard. He breathes heavily, his muscular arm flexing— bicep strained as he pumps his thick cock.
“Jealous as fuck, princess... Fuck, that should be me,” he rasps as he stretches his arm back on the back of the couch, relaxing a little more. “Love watching those pretty lips wrapped around a cock, regardless,”
Rafe smirks as you suck off the dildo, pulling it out of your mouth, a string of saliva lined from the tip to your soft lips. “So fuckin’ filthy for me, pretty.”
“How do you want me?” You smile as you rise up on your knees, resting it straight up and down on the bed.
“Just like that, baby…”
"Now what?" You ask coyly as you hover above it, teasing your drooling hole with the tip.
“Take it all, princess… I know you can,” he smirks. Your lips part as you widen your thighs, dropping down on the big silicone cock inch by in. You gasp and moan— fully sat with your head tossed back, using your free hand to grope your tits.
The moans that pours through your speakers from Rafe sends chills down your spine. Rafe watches as you slowly lift yourself off, dragging the dildo out before your greedy cunt swallows it up again.
You start to bounce on the mattress, placing the other hand over your mouth to dampen your whines and pleas as Rafe keeps your pace with his strokes. “Wanna fuck you, baby,” he groans, his voice hoarse and raspy, getting off at the sight of you and the sounds of your warm, wet pussy; your muffled whimpers and cries slipping past your hand from time to time is almost too much for him to take.
“Show me your pussy,” he breathes.
You pull out of the toy, whimpering at the loss of it, rolling to your back, giving Rafe the perfect shot of the wet mess between your thighs. You plunge the cock in your glossy hole, propping yourself up slightly to see him, not wanting to miss a thing.
The dildo reaches that special spot, making the knot tighten in your stomach, toes curling as you get closer and closer.
Your eyes fall down his perfect body, landing on his heavy cock, his reddened tip shiny with precum, swollen and throbbing. “Need you to cum for me… Cum with me, baby,” he pants.
"Gonna cum, baby…" You mewl, face scrunched slightly to keep your eyes from shutting or rolling back. Your thighs shake uncontrollably as you dissolve in pleasure, pussy gushing around the dildo as you continue to work it in and out. Rafe pulls off his big cock, losing all control—white ropes of cum painting his abs and thick, pulsing length.
Rafe watches you draw the toy out of your fluttering hole as he pulls off his dick, milking the last bits of pleasure from his body as he watches you close.
You sigh deeply, satisfied, as you crawl toward the camera. Rafe throws his head back, smiling all too wide, rubbing his hand over his eyes. “What am I gonna tell you to do, princess?” He mumbles, still riding his high, not quite ready to come down just yet.
You giggle, cheeks warming up as you show him the toy glistening with your climax. “Suck that shit, pretty,” he smiles. You wrap your lips around it, taking as much as you can get, sucking it off to the tip before smiling dreamily at him. “That’s my girl.”
“That was good,” you sigh as you wrap yourself up in a fuzzy blanket. Rafe cleans himself off, throwing his boxers back on for the moment.
“Better than me?” He quips with his eyebrow cocked.
“Not a fuckin’ chance, baby.”
“We’re watchin’ that video, sweetheart. Don’t get too comfortable,” he hums.
“I can’t wait.”
Rafe looks at you lovingly— the two of you sharing a moment of silence, just happy to be together. “You know, I’ve been thinking about how much I hate bein’ away from you. And I can’t imagine spending Christmas apart…” Rafe’s words get lost on his lips as he takes out his phone and types up a message, your phone dinging a moment later.
Happy tears gather as you look down at the gift from Rafe, a flight confirmation from Charleston, straight to him. “I wanna spend Christmas with you, princess. Just you and me. What do you say?”
You look up at the handsome man on the other side of the screen, letting your happy tears slip down your cheeks.
“I’d love to.”
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