#A Complete Guide to Getting Your Resume

[yazmarina]

walk me through it

for the love circuit series

—you're used to being flirted with in front of the camera. but something about franco is really doing you in.

franco colapinto (f1) x fem!reporter reader

warnings/notes: smut, unprotected sex (no condom, yes birth control), guided masturbation, lewd photography, lots of flirting, franco is shameless (naturally), some Spanish sentences and phrases

a/n: will resume hit play for a bit after this one! enjoy franco girlies mwa

Your job was simple enough. Well, for today, at least.

Stand in the media pen, gather statements, and piece together a couple of stories later that evening for publishing first thing tomorrow morning. All in a day's work, like all the other days before.

You've grown immune to the charms of rich, adrenaline-seeking men. Didn't take you too long, the illusion breaking as soon as any one of them opened their mouths. Some you tolerate more than others, but some you'd rather steer clear of completely.

This isn't to say that you've brushed all of them off. You might have agreed to a date here and there but nothing ever stuck, the nature of your jobs a bit too similar and all too different at the same time. You've given up on the prospect that you'll somehow end up with one of the many Formula 1 drivers you've interviewed and spoken to. And you've spoken to a lot. You've had this gig since you were shipped off fresh from uni and one too many 'What happened there?'s and 'Tell me about qualifying's can put a damper on the romantic side of things.

But someone new's in town. Well, er, new in the paddock. And you'd be lying if you said you weren't even a little bit excited.

He's charming, that much you can already tell. He walks into the media pen like he's done it thousands of times before and you have to actively suppress a smile as he walks over. Confidence is always a plus. For the interview, of course.

"Hola, Franco. Antes que nada, enhorabuena," you greet warmly, extending your arm over the barrier to place the microphone nearer to him. Hi, Franco. First of all, congratulations.

Franc's eyebrows shoot up, a wolfish grin settling on his face. "Oh. I thought this was an English interview?"

You smile back. "It is, but I know my way around Spanish, as well."

"Ah," Franco nods. "Gracias, _______."

"You know my name?" You ask, momentarily forgetting that you're being taped and recorded. You clear your throat, ignoring the quiet snicker from your cameraman.

"Yeah, I've seen you around and watched some of your other interviews," Franco confirms, a hand settling on his hip as he leans against the barrier, closer to you.

You can smell his perfume from where you stand.

"Thank you, I've heard and seen a lot about you as well," you respond, trying to return to your original train of thought.

"Which is why I want to ask you how it feels on your first day as a Formula 1 driver," you quickly follow. "Have you done anything special to prepare for this weekend? Other than the obvious, of course."

Another easy smile spreads across Franco's lips. "I've definitely added to my training and done some new things to prepare. I haven't done a full F1 weekend before so everything will be new."

"We definitely don't have reporters like you in the lower Formulas," he adds.

You feel a violent blush rip up through your neck all the way to your cheeks. As if the Monza heat wasn't enough.

"Well, I'm glad you could meet me here," you manage to get out.

The thing is, Franco isn't even the most attractive driver you've met. He's definitely up there, but not the most.

That's a discussion you have with yourself semi-weekly: ranking the drivers in terms of attractiveness, factoring in personalities and general attitudes towards the people around them, specifically the media.

Look, people love to shit on the media and press, calling journalism all sorts of derogatory words, but you're just here to do your job, like anyone else. And it gets pretty fucking hard when your boss is ringing your phone every five minutes demanding four stories by tomorrow and drivers are sassing you out as if you asked them if they've murdered their whole family.

So, naturally, the way they treat you determines a big chunk of how you think your day is going to pan out.

And right now, Franco seems to be lifting your spirits just fine.

"What are your goals for this weekend? Are points on the horizon for you at your first F1 race?" You continue, trying not to stare at the way Franco starts to rub at the back of his neck, bashful all of a sudden.

"We'll try," Franco begins. He plants both his hands on the barrier and leans even closer. You have to physically take a step back.

You gulp. Franco smiles.

"Anything is possible this weekend."

-

"You broke the internet last night."

You scoff, sending your cameraman a vicious side-eye. It's crowded in the paddock today, everyone wanting to get a glimpse of the new rookie, it seems. Such is the eagerness for this young driver that even that 30-second clip of your interview with him blew right up in your face. Your inboxes at capacity, your own voice speaking back to you with every other swipe on your TikTok.

It's not all bad, though. A tweet with one of your Instagram photos attached to it captioned 'TE ENTIENDO MUCHO FRANCO ES MUY LINDA PERIODISTA' did weasel out a chuckle from you.

Your cameraman shrugs, gesturing with a jerk of his head in front of you.

"There he is. I'm sure he knows all about it."

You look over to where he's pointing and lo and behold, Franco is right there, chatting with a few Williams team members, his race suit hanging undone around his waist. He turns to you even before you can fully register that it's him you're looking at.

But your training kicks in even faster. A megawatt smile appears on your lips and you wave enthusiastically at Franco.

"Hi."

"_______," Franco says, face lighting up at the sight of you. Your name seems to fall even more effortlessly off his lips.

You reach over and pull him into a half-hug with one arm, but both his arms wind around you and you have no choice but to squeeze back.

"You saw?" Franco asks, a gleam in his eye as he pulls away. His hand remains casually on the small of your back.

"Saw what?" You know what it is he's asking but you'd like to hear it from him.

"We went viral, no?" Franco says with a laugh, reaching further around you and squeezing your waist. You lean into his touch, heart jumping as his fingers graze just underneath your cropped top.

"That's all because of you," you reason, pointing an accusatory finger at Franco. "I bet you say that to all the other reporters."

The Williams team members standing nearby burst out laughing and even your cameraman affords a snicker. A deep blush spreads across Franco's face as he rubs your side reassuringly.

"No, no, I don't. Just you," Franco admits with another lighthearted laugh.

"Sure," you say with exaggerated skepticism. You pull away from his touch, catching his hand before he slips it fully off of you.

"I'll talk to you later," you say. And it's fully intentional, the words you choose to say. I'll talk to you later. Not 'I'll catch you later' or 'I'll see you later'.

I will talk to you later.

Franco understands, giving your hand a squeeze.

-

Later that day, you pray that no one catches you grinning behind your hand as Franco takes the chequered flag at qualifying.

P11.

Almost there.

-

"Hi. Come in."

Franco beams at you from across the threshold, stepping into your room with slow, measured steps.

"Great qualifying," you compliment, eyes traveling down Franco's body, noting the way his team kit hugs his frame just right, his hands shoved into his pockets, exposing just his arms, veins and all.

Your eyes snap back up to his face when you hear the door shut in place.

"Q2 on your debut. Not bad," you go on, taking a step back. Franco takes one toward you.

"You're just repeating what you said at the media pen earlier," Franco points out. He reaches out and gently circles an arm around your waist.

Always straight to the point.

Like this morning.

You tried not to make it so obvious when you ran into Franco earlier, but all you could think about was The Message.

You were doing your cursory social media checks a few minutes after you had woken up, still snug in your bed and unwilling to get up just yet. A message in your Instagram inbox caught your attention, sitting at the very top of your 'verified followers' tab.

Franco Colapinto: hola, hermosa 😉

It took a minute for your motor functions to return, your fingers hovering over the keyboard as you pored over what to reply. You settled on a nonchalant greeting, asking if Franco needed anything.

You realized rather belatedly that this was looking a little familiar. You wished he wouldn't say the dreaded answer, the more-than-predictable response that every man liked to use.

Franco Colapinto: you, maybe?

You groaned into your pillow, not because you were repulsed by his answer, but because you liked it. If you were easy, then so was he.

You: i finish work at 9 pm tonight...? 👀

It's 9 PM now. Franco's in the room and your hand is running up his chest.

Easy.

"It's such an honor," Franco teases, backing you up further into the room. His hands feel heavy on your waist and your heart hammers against your chest.

"I get to work with people like you now," Franco continues, stopping right in front of the bed.

The kiss comes as a shock more so because of how good Franco kisses. One of his hands is now cradling the back of your head, keeping you in place while he licks into your mouth, groaning with every pucker of your lips.

You pull away for barely a second to get both of your tops off before you dive back in, seemingly too desperate and too starved for each other's mouths. Franco's hands are everywhere; they run down your arms, paw at your waist, tugging at the belt loops of your jeans.

You giggle as he pulls you even closer, your bare chests pressed against each other. Franco pulls back and peers down at you, reaching behind to unclasp your bra. You let it fall, already guiding one of his hands to your tits.

"Couldn't stop staring at them?" You ask, your voice rising with an innocent lilt.

Franco kneads at the mound beneath his hand, eliciting a moan from you. He grins.

"I wanted you to notice," Franco admits simply, kissing you again.

"Perv," you mumble against his lips. Franco laughs, already undoing his trousers.

You wiggle your own way out of your jeans, letting Franco get the shortest of glimpses at your baby pink underwear before you discard them off to the side.

"Mierda, you're so sexy," Franco compliments as you crawl backward onto the bed, laying back and letting your hair splay out beneath you.

Franco pounces on you like a man starved, bare atop your own naked body, his arms caging you in.

"Big moves from somebody so new," you whisper, carding your fingers through Franco's soft locks.

"I like to make a statement," Franco says with a shrug. He glances up momentarily, something piquing his interest off to the side.

"Is that your camera?"

You crane your neck to see where he's looking and sure enough, your personal DSLR is right there on the bedside drawer. You look back at Franco, an eyebrow raised.

"You wanna use it?" You ask, not expecting him to actually say yes. But a mischievous grin settles on Franco's face and you feel your heart skip several beats.

"Knock yourself out," you say.

Franco reaches for the camera and fiddles with it for a few seconds. His eyes scan over your body and you suddenly feel the urge to hide away with how hard he's looking.

"May I?" Franco asks, brandishing the camera. Your mouth falls open as you realize what he's asking.

"You can keep them for yourself. For your eyes only," Franco hurriedly adds, planting his knees firmly on either side of you.

You stare up at him, a million thoughts running through your mind.

"Just...touch yourself."

You gasp, stunned at his proposal. Franco watches through the LCD monitor, glancing up at you through his lashes. Your bottom lip slips between your teeth, and as if on instinct, your hand inches down slowly between your legs.

"You're in front of cameras all the time," Franco reminds with a smirk. "This should be easy for you."

You suppress a whimper at his words, your fingertips swiping through your slick folds. You're already soaked and you start to wonder if it started even before Franco got here.

The shutter clicks and the lens whirs, sharp against the soft breaths you're letting out. Franco is concentrated, snapping photo after photo as you rub yourself closer to release. But it's not enough. You need more.

"Franco...," you implore, peering up with bright, begging eyes.

"Slowly, mi amor," Franco coos. "Just where you like it. Right there."

Click.

"Harder now, but still slow. Yes? Feels good?"

You whine, eyes fluttering shut as your pleasure picks up again. Several clicks. You're panting now, the tendrils of release wrapping themselves around you.

"Faster, yes, like that," Franco eggs on. Your fingers speed up against your sensitive clit and a litany of Franco's name spills from your lips. Before you know it, he's putting the camera away. You reach for him, gripping the back of his neck as he smashes his lips into yours.

Franco bites down on your lip and you cry out, your orgasm washing over you like a tide. You arch against Franco, feeling his own stiffness heavy on your thigh.

You blink, Franco's face coming into focus, barely an inch from yours. He watches you closely, pupils blown wide and plump lips even redder. You hook your legs around his waist, letting him know that you're not done yet.

Franco is quick to pick up, smiling as lines himself up with you. The groan that escapes him is nothing short of delicious as he pushes himself in. You gasp along, the stretch a welcome sensation.

Franco wastes no time and pounds right into you, catching you by surprise. You let your head fall back against the mattress, a long, drawn-out whine erupting from deep within your chest as Franco licks a stripe up your neck.

Your whole body quakes with how hard he's thrusting into you but you're clearly enjoying it if your wanton moans are anything to go by. Franco meets your eyes and you pull him down, wanting nothing more than to drown in those lips of his.

It's feral and it's unrestrained, spurred on by the knowledge that this is more than unprofessional in your line of work. Not illegal by any means, but risky enough to warrant warnings from your coworkers. Never sleep with a driver unless you're committed.

Oh, well.

Franco groans loudly in your ear, movements losing their rhythm as he speeds up. You're clinging to him as if he'd disappear if you let go, your own belly tightening once more with that familiar feeling.

Franco. Franco. Franco.

He kisses you just as he finishes. Passionate, eager, heady. You feel him inside you, a different kind of elation filling you as you release all over him.

Franco pulls away to allow yourselves to breathe. He pulls out, rolling over to your side. You hug your folded knees to your chest, too lazy to get up and find something to deal with the mess.

"No hagas eso. Eso es demasiado doméstico," Franco jokes, moving closer and planting a kiss to your shoulder. Don't do that. That's too domestic.

"Relájate, estoy usando anticonceptiva," you reassure with a lighthearted roll of your eyes. Relax, I'm on birth control.

Franco hums, laying an arm over you. He pulls you close and you face him, reaching up to brush away some of his unruly hair.

He plants a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"Happy that you're a Formula 1 driver?" You ask, grinning.

Franco chuckles. "Very."

[fakebwitch]

we share the same sins

— pairing: father charlie mayhew x fem!reader

— summary: as usual you go to church to say your prayer, father charlie says something that catches you by surprise, shortly thereafter you find yourself discussing it in his office and things escalate quickly.

— warnings: very smutty

you sat on one of the long, dark wooden benches, your hands held a gold and quartz rosary that your parents had given you on your previous birthday, your index finger and thumb turning one of the many balls that made up the necklace, your eyes closed as your mind repeated the usual prayer.

it was a wednesday, 5 p.m. you had finished all your studies concerning school and had walked toward the church of your small town to perform one of your weekly prayers.

you smelled a familiar scent flooding your nostrils, but you kept your eyes closed, determined to continue your prayer. the scent grew stronger and stronger as you felt a body sit down next to you. no longer able to maintain your concentration, you opened your eyes, turning to the left, meeting father charlie's gaze.

before you could utter a word he anticipated you, "shh... keep your eyes closed, go on" he guided you, you hesitated for a second, scanning his beautiful features, you decided to listen to him by closing your eyes, moving your head to the altar, clutching your rosary tightly as you resumed your prayer.

you tried, but your mind had abandoned you by then, all you could think about was whether he was looking at you at that moment, watching your hair, the way you were dressed, the way your well-manicured fingers played with the rosary or maybe scrutinizing your profile, your nose, your lips... and then there was his strong scent, you let it go as you opened your eyes. you moved your head toward him and saw that he was looking straight ahead, you were a little disappointed.

fortunately he was able to anticipate your movements and shifted his gaze from your face, to the altar in front of him in time, so that you wouldn't catch him staring at you.

"i'm done" you lied crossing his gaze, biting your lower lip, "are you really?" he said, "yes" you lied again. charlie knew inside that you weren't telling the truth, you were far from done.

you knew he knew, in fact you were ready to get a rebuke about not lying in the house of God, but he didn't say anything about it.

"good," he nodded, shifting his gaze elsewhere, unable to look you in the eyes for too long.

"what are you doing?" you asked him, watching his concentrated face, you realized how stupid your question sounded at that moment and before he could answer ironically you added "in your mind."

he looked at you for a few seconds, "brooding over my sins," he said with a sigh, he indeed was doing it.

"in that case who do you confess to? should i be your priest?" you said the last sentence with a smile, charlie couldn't help but laugh as he shook his head, "i don't know if you should listen to my sins" he said becoming serious again, wetting his lips.

"why not? i mean you've heard all my sins... i think we share the same ones" you said shrugging your shoulders, not thinking of a possible meaning behind those words, father charlie raised an eyebrow scrutinizing your profile as your fingers tightened around your rosary beads.

"yeah? like watching porn videos?" he said.

your head turned sharply toward him, widening your eyes at having so openly said such an impure word in the house of God, you looked around worried that some poor Christian might hear the words that just came out from the mouth of the priest who every sunday morning did mass in front of all the citizens, but luckily the church was almost completely empty except for a few ladies but they were sitting something like 7 or 8 pews away from the two of you.

"charlie..." you said in a whisper looking at him bewildered, he looked down, a small smile on his face, "what, I mean you said that we share the same sins and that's what you confess to me" he said simply shrugging his shoulders as he crossed his arms. "don't say it out loud” you scolded him as you asked God for forgiveness internally.

"don't worry, I could have said worse things you confessed to me" he said by now chuckling, enjoying teasing you, you glowered at him as you pushed his shoulder, "will you stop it" you said trying to keep your tone low.

"the truth is you're a nasty gir-" before he could continue this dirty little game you grabbed your bag getting up from your seat, "you're really absurd" you said as you walked down the long aisle.

"wait, I was just kidding" he said as he chased after you, not caring what the few people in the church might think. he reached out and grabbed your wrist, leading you to a hidden corner.

"you should not say out loud what I confess to you, it should stay between you and me" you scolded him, in fact it was the truth, a priest should not have said what was confessed to him, it was confessional secrecy.

"well you are right, but I can assure you that no one heard what i said" he said trying to reassure you. by now he knew you well enough to know that there was something wrong with you and when he saw that you did not respond he added "is something bothering you?".

he was surprised by your reaction, you used to always joke together, about anything. it had been weeks since you had grown close, if you can call it that; on days when you went to church to say your usual prayer, he was there, and when you finished you would stop to talk to him, or even after sunday mass, after dismissing everyone, he was more than happy to spend time with you. he was always available, answering any of your doubts or questions.

you were so familiar with each other that he didn't even want you to call him father charlie anymore, just charlie was fine.

"yes... maybe I am," you admitted biting your lower lip, "would you mind telling me what it is about?" he asked as his gaze softened, a slight pout on your face.

as you were about to respond he interrupted you, "we can go to my office if you prefer, so we can have more privacy" he proposed, you looked at him taking a few seconds to decide. it wouldn't be your first time in his office, but the idea of being alone with him made you so self-conscious.

"yes that's fine" you nodded, he gave you a small smile and then started walking, you walked alongside him as you silently made your way to his office. he opened the door to the room, put a hand on your back as he guided you inside, closing the door behind him. you tried to ignore his gesture as you took a seat in one of the chairs in front of the desk.

"can I offer you tea... or perhaps you would prefer coffee?" he offered, "coffee would be fine, thank you" you replied with a smile, "no problem" he replied returning your smile, turning to a cabinet, taking the carafe with coffee and pouring a little into a cup.

"thank you" you whispered again taking the cup from his hands, your fingers brushed against his in the process.

"so... do you want to talk about it?" he urged as he sat on the corner of the desk, a few feet away from you, you sent down a long sip of coffee and then set the cup down on the desk. "it's just that this is the last year of school, and I have so many important tests coming up, I haven't started studying yet, and I'm so scared of failing..." you blurted out as you played with the flap of your skirt, charlie looked at you nodding at your every word, he really did listening to you when you spoke.

"it's okay, there's no need to stress so much, trust me... I've been there too, and I survived" he said with a slight smile making you laugh, "how did you do?" you asked as you met his gaze, "not exactly well, but the important thing is that it's over" he replied shrugging as you both laughed.

"but I know it's different with you, I know you're smart and you have all the skills to get the most out of it, you'll be fine, don't stress that pretty head of yours too much" he reassured you giving you a wink, you smiled lowering your gaze. his words were serious, he really meant what he was telling you, it wasn't just said to please you.

"I hope you're right..."

"you know I am" he said as you took the cup back into your hands to take another sip.

"about before- I wanted to apologize for what I said, I shouldn't have done that, it was unkind of me-"

"it's okay really, don't worry about it” you said interrupting him, "I just overreacted" you continued moving a strand of hair falling across your face.

"no your reaction was more than correct, what you confess to me should remain secret, and I should not have allowed myself to say it out loud" he insisted. "i promise, it's okay... just hearing it out loud was a little... you know, awkward" you confessed feeling your cheeks heat up, feeling weak in front of his gaze so intense. he looked at you for a few seconds as you cursed yourself entirely for opening that speech.

"awkward you say?" he urged you raising an eyebrow, having full interest in the conversation you were engaging in. you took a long breath thinking about the right things to say, in the end he was a priest anyway.

"yes, talking about that kind of thing so openly... it seemed unfair" you admitted crossing his gaze, his mouth slightly open as he listened to your words, you seemed so unsure about it.

"why? it's normal, it's part of being human to take certain actions" he said wetting his lips, waiting for your next answer.

"yes it's true..." you nodded agreeing with him.

you looked at him, but really looked at him. he wasn't wearing the usual tunic he wore when he was performing mass, but a black shirt, as well as pants and shoes, and a matching belt. your eyes lingered on his chest, the shirt was quite tight and you could imagine his trained physique underneath the fabric, his arms looked so muscular and you could just imagine how worked out his abs could be.

you weren't stupid, you had heard the rumors going around, about him being a personal trainer before he took up the seminar. you couldn't help but think about what his life was like before he devoted himself to god, whether he had been with so many women, whether he was good at it.

"have you ever done it?" you asked him voicing your thoughts, capturing his attention even more than you had before, "done what?" he incited you. he knew what you meant, but he wanted to hear the famous word leave your lips.

you looked at him feeling like you wanted to sink to the floor below, it made you so self-conscious.

"sex" you finally said it.

he held back a smirk as he looked at your embarrassed face.

"well yes, I did it before I went down the path," he admitted as you nodded silently, you didn't know exactly what to expect, but the idea of him performing such an act made you more and more excited. "what was it like?" you asked boldly meeting his gaze, you had never had any kind of relationship that led back to sex, other than watching porn videos, as you had confessed to him, and touching yourself a few times.

even though you had never done anything with a man, you knew how sex and all the other kinds of gratification you could receive and give worked. your mind wandered, imagining him gratifying the women he slept with, his head between their thighs as they screamed his name.

you certainly should not have thought such things about a priest.

"the best feeling ever" he replied to you, and you could tell by his tone of voice and expression that he was probably going over such events in his head, that he wasn't lying. you couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy for the women who had been lucky enough to sleep with him.

he looked at you, your expression more thoughtful than ever. "how come you're so interested in this?" he asked you curiously as he lifted his shirt sleeve, up to his elbow, in full view the veins on his forearm as his fingers clung to the desk. you looked unashamedly at the scene, his veins so thick you just wanted to run your fingers over them. of course charlie noticed.

"I've never done anything like that" you replied looking into his eyes, oh trust me he knew. he knew you were an innocent little girl, still untouched, and that drove him crazy.

"mhm" he nodded inciting you to continue, he could tell by your expression that there was something else you wanted to say, but the words wouldn't come out. "I've been thinking about it a lot lately" you said, your eyes shifting to his bulge for a split second, you hoped it went unnoticed by him, but it didn't.

you were almost 19 and hadn't had any kind of relationship yet, was it so wrong to fantasize sexually every night?

"don't feel wrong about that, I get it" he said, his voice almost in a whisper. you were already aroused and his attractive voice wasn't helping.

"I just want to know how it feels."

and that was the last straw, all he needed to take the decisive step. your pretty eyes looked down at him, looking so innocent, his impure thoughts took over his mind as he felt his cock twitch.

he swallowed as he moved closer to where you were sitting, he couldn't miss this chance, it was all he had wanted from the moment his eyes had landed on you.

"I could help you" he offered as he looked down at you, nothing but lust in his dark eyes. you didn't think for a second about the fact that he was a priest, that he wasn't allowed to give in to temptation, it was a sin, just as it was a sin for you too, to lose your virginity before marriage to the person perhaps least suited.

you nodded, unable to utter a word under his gaze, "use your words” he intimated, "I want you to” you replied, deglutinating, no longer able to hide the discomfort in your lower abdomen, all you needed was him.

his large hand rested on your soft cheek, his thumb rubbed the soft skin and then went down to your lips, settling on your lower lip, bringing it down.

he lowered himself just a little so that your faces were inches from each other, you knew what was coming, you closed your eyes as your heartbeat quickened unnaturally. you'd never kissed anyone, except for a little kiss you'd shared a long time ago with a friend of yours, but nothing that could remotely lead back to a real kiss.

his lips collided gently with yours, and he swore that he had never committed a finer sin. he broke away after a few seconds, looked at you as you opened your eyes, your pupils dilated, he could mirror himself in them.

"get up."

he stepped back a little so that you had the space to stand up, you did as he ordered. he was much taller than you, your head met his chest as you looked up at him. "haven't you ever kissed before?" he asked you, his voice barely audible, your eyes were fixed in his as his hand rested on the side of your neck, pushing you toward the desk.

"no" you shook your head, keeping the same tone of voice as his, you worried thinking that through a simple kiss he had caught your inexperience and was already tired of you, "don't worry, it's okay" his voice reassuring as your ass was pressed against the desk, "just follow what I do, it's nothing your pretty head can't learn" you nodded letting his voice guide you and before you could think of anything else his lips returned to yours, this time however his lips moved slowly parting, you copied his own movements, finding your rhythm.

"just like that, you see" he whispered on your lips with a small smile pulling away so that you could catch your breath, his free hand moved to your hips bringing you closer to him. his lips found yours again, resuming the same rhythm as before, this time feeling his tongue slip easily between your lips.

you copied his movements, letting your tongue make its way between his mouth. you were by no means an expert kisser, but for what it was worth you could tell he was an excellent kisser.

he broke away to catch his breath but your hand grabbed him by the collar, making his lips smack against yours, he laughed in the kiss at your desperation, "calm down pretty girl, i'm right here" he said as the hand he had on your hip moved to your thigh pushing it onto the table so that you were sitting on it now.

he made space between your legs as your hands played with his hair, you heard little sounds escaping his lips and they were the most beautiful things you had ever heard.

as his hand was steady on your hip, yours moved to his arm, feeling his bicep. you don't know how long you dreamed of doing this.

his lips, his hands on you, his grunts, it was all so new to you that it got you overwhelmed, you couldn't wait any longer, you needed him now, your pussy was aching for him.

"i need you" you said pulling away from the kiss, taking one of his hands and bringing it to your center, there was no more room for shyness. charlie swore he could cum at that exact moment at the sight, your desperate face, your hair disheveled as well as your lips flushed, and his hand on your panties, "fuck me..." he whispered feeling through the thin fabric how wet you were.

"is that what you want? me to touch you?" he asked, his other hand grabbed your neck, you nodded frantically, your pussy clenching around nothing, "I want you to touch me" you said as his hand cupped your pussy, you let out a soft moan.

"tell me exactly what you want" at this point he was merely pushing you to the edge, he knew you had never done anything like this so it took little. he wanted it as much as you did, but he couldn't fight the urge to hear your sweet voice begging for him to do something.

"I want... I want your fingers inside me" you didn't even know where you got the courage to say such words, "not so innocent huh?" he taunted with a grin, his hand lifted your skirt as his fingers slowly slipped through the elastic of your panties.

"faster" you begged as he slid the panties down your ankles, ignoring your prayers as he looked them once removed, light pink with a white bow, "these are pretty, i might keep them" he said almost as if he was talking to himself as he put the panties in his pocket.

you felt yourself wet even more at what you had just witnessed.

he rested his lips on yours as his long fingers met your swollen clit, you couldn't help but let out a moan, your fingers were nothing in comparison. your head fell back as his mouth moved to your neck, licking and sucking your skin. "oh charlie" you moaned as his fingers continued to play with your clit, you had never felt a better sensation.

"i'm going to put a finger in" he warned you as his thumb took the place of his index and middle fingers on your clit. he played with your entrance a little and then inserted a finger inside, you let out a moan at the stretching, how were you going to take his cock.

"so wet baby" he whispered in your ear as his finger began to find its rhythm inside you. he noticed that you were feeling nothing but pleasure at that moment, and he slid a second finger in, "fuuuck" you moaned as you felt him stretch you, his big fingers filling you so well.

you cried out as his thumb found your clit again, pressing it and tracing circular motions on it. his lips on you, the way his fingers moved quickly inside you, it all felt too much.

"c-charlie… i think I'm-"

"I know baby I know, give in to it" he cradled you by rejoining your lips, the weight you felt in your stomach more and more persistent, you clung to his biceps, your nails dug into his skin as you felt dizzy.

with almost a pornographic moan you cummed on his fingers, which slowly helped you ride out your orgasm. you felt powerless after cumming hard, your grip on his bicep diminished as you rested your head on his shoulder.

you closed your eyes feeling tired, you could sleep just like that. you let out a sigh as he pulled his fingers out, feeling empty.

you pulled away from his chest, your mind still clouded as you saw him bring his fingers covered in your cum to his mouth, he sucked his fingers as he rolled his eyes, savoring your taste, "so fucking good pretty girl" he murmured removing his fingers from his mouth with a "pop".

he grabbed you by the chin kissing you, his tongue slipped into your mouth so you could taste yourself.

with a quick movement he put his hand on your hip and turned you over, your back now against his chest. as one hand clung to your hips, his other hand pushed down your back, you released a little cry when your chest came in contact with the hard wooden surface.

with a quick movement he lifted your skirt, his hand landed with a violent slap on your ass, making you moan. "charlie I don't know if-" you made to speak but he quickly interrupted you, "shh, shh baby... you're okay, you can take it" he murmured as he continued to grope your ass, voice low and hoarse, his hard cock was screaming to be released, he couldn’t wait any longer, he had to be inside you.

you remained still as you felt him unbuckle his belt, he lowered his pants just enough along with his underwear, his hard cock came out. with the palm of his hand, he cupped your pussy, gathering your wetness, a whimper left your lips at the contact, still sensitive from the previous orgasm.

he began rubbing the tip of his cock in front of you, your pussy in perfect view in front of him as you were bent over his office desk, waiting for him to fuck you… how was he going to explain to God the reason for his sin?

"please... need you" you begged, your pussy clenching around nothing as you heard the wet sounds of his hand jerking on you, wanting nothing more than to feel his cock split you open.

"I'm here baby, I got you," he shushed you.

shortly after you felt his tip rubbing between your folds, you whimpered at the sensation as you heard him moan behind you, you thought it was a torture not to be able to see his beautiful face in pleasure at this moment.

"could cum just by this..." he said in pure bliss, his head fell back as the tip of his cock indulged on your entrance, pushing just enough to make your walls squeeze him like he had never felt before.

"fuck so tight, I thought I had prepared you well... squeezing me so well" he praised you as his hand tightened on your hips, you let out a huge moan as you felt your pussy welcome his cock, his fingers were nothing in comparison.

"it hurts" you moaned almost on the verge of tears as he pushed himself just a little deeper. your little hole was so hot, squeezing him so tightly, he was holding back with all his might not to push himself hard into you and fuck you out of your head.

"I know baby, it will feel better in a little” he reassured you, his hand found your clit, rubbing it as he calmly slid his cock a little deeper inside you.

he wasn't even halfway in and you felt so full already, his fingers on your clit and his cock filling you so well made you moan repeatedly. as he gave you time to adjust to the new intrusion, you began to adjust to his cock inside you, wanting nothing more than for him to move.

"move."

that was all he needed to hear. with one swift move he thrust quickly into you, "fuuuuck" he moaned as you felt your walls suck him in, your hands clinging hard to the desk beneath you, your knuckles turning almost white as you gritted your teeth, feeling your skin burn.

"too much" you moaned, "it’s ok, I'm here" he told you trying somehow to reassure you, but really all he could think about was how good he felt inside you. respecting your limits he slowly pushed himself out then back inside you, as he did this several times you felt the pleasure take over from the pain.

"faster,” you urged him, and he was more than happy to oblige.

his thrusts increased dramatically as his hand left a big slap on your ass. all you could think about was his cock inside you, touching you in all the right places.

"ohh fuck charlie... feels so good" you said as the sound of your body slamming into each other flooded your ears. "just like that, you see? you were made for this cock" he said as he watched your ass bounce each time it came in contact with his body, a moan left his lips at the sight.

you released a loud moan as you felt his tip touch your cervix, in a quick gesture he grabbed both of your wrists holding them tightly with one hand as he pushed you toward him, "keep your fucking mouth shut, or do you want everyone to know that you are being fucked dumb by your priest."

you couldn't help but get even more aroused at hearing his dirty words, you clenched around him and he noticed. "you like how I talk to you like that , don't you? dirty just like I thought" he said to you.

"you are my dirty girl, aren't you?" he asked, balls deep inside you, "y-yes i am your dirty girl" you nodded quickly, too fucked up to even understand what you were saying.

leaving your wrists alone he grabbed you by the hair, so that your back was against his sweaty chest. his hand slid down finding your overstimulated clit. another moan escaped your lips and charlie didn't like it.

he grabbed you by the neck, "the fuck did I say to you? keep your mouth shut" he scolded you, you didn't understand how he wanted you to be silent when he was abusing your hole, making you feel so good. you wanted to answer him but you were too gone to be able to formulate a sentence, in response you couldn't help but let out another moan.

"you want the hard stuff" he murmured slipping two fingers into your mouth, you were quick to wrap your lips around his fingers, sucking on them.

charlie couldn't help but grunt as you squeezed him tighter and tighter, his other hand grabbed your tits as he felt himself getting closer and closer to his orgasm.

"mhm" you murmured around his lips, your hand touched his chest, "what is it baby? you close?" he asked, you nodded euphorically as you rolled your eyes, resting your head on his shoulder.

"cum baby, cum all over my cock" he incited you and within seconds you were cumming hard on his cock, you felt yourself squirming as you slowly returned to normal, his cock thrusting into you hard, you felt your legs shaking.

"good girl... f-fuck i'm gonna baby, you want it? gonna fucking cum inside you" he managed to say between moans, "yes I want it all inside me" you urged him as he took his fingers out of your mouth.

a few thrusts later you felt his hot seed spreading inside you, you couldn't help but whimper at the sensation. low moans kept coming out of his mouth as with slow thrusts he finished inside you, making sure not a single drop was wasted.

he pulled out of you slowly as you suddenly felt empty, let yourself fall back into the chair where you had just sat as you entered his office exhausted.

"I've been waiting to do this ever since I saw you."

[theangeltopaz]

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BABY.”

SYNOPSIS. A little self-indulgent drabble-something I wrote for my birthday. :)

CONTENT. SubBot!Male Character x DomTop!Male Reader (first) & DomTop!Male Character x SubBot!Male Reader (second) (separate), anal, bath sex, pillow princess attempts to ride without any help (and fails miserably so you have to teach him), morning sex

AUTHOR’S NOTE. Written without specific characters but I was thinking about modern AU!Mydei for dom!reader and Nanami for sub!reader. imagine whoever you want though. Two different perspectives because I’m a vers and cause I wanted to.

       Working on your birthday was not ideal, especially not when you had to deal with one of your most frustrating clients. However, coming home to your husband always made up for that. He had somehow managed to cook something without burning the house down. Even more of a miracle, it was delicious. Whilst eating, you laughed and discussed how your day had gone. Seeing you frustrated, your husband knew the perfect way to calm you down. 

       He led you to your shared bathroom, where he had set up a warm bath in the large spa tub, complete with lit candles and rose petals and two glasses of your favorite wine. He refused to let you do anything, slipping off your clothing and his own in a teasingly slow manner. He let his hands purposefully graze any zone he knew would get you riled up. 

       He then led you into the tub, sitting on your lap once you had sat down. Your beloved, once again, insisted on taking care of you. He scrubbed your body down with some peony scented body wash, which he must have just bought because you had never seen it before. He wasn’t sly with his end goal, though. He subtly grinded against you as he cleansed himself, disguising it as just “readjusting his position”. 

       He admitted to his motives once he finally finished washing the both of you, when he pressed his hips hard against yours. However, your husband suggested he be the one to take charge tonight, seeing that it was your birthday and he wanted to pleasure you. You smirked, amused by his little show of dominance and eager to see how your pillow princess would fare in an atypical position.

       Not well, apparently. He was struggling to ride you steadily at a pace even close to the speed you’d normally fuck him with. Everytime you attempted to guide him, he denied and pushed your hands off his hips, saying he “could handle it”. He clearly couldn’t, but you entertained his desires a little longer.

       Once you decided you were tired of him unintentionally edging you, you placed your hands on his hips. Firmly, this time, so your husband couldn’t remove them himself. You guided him in slow, languid movements, gently bouncing him up and down your dick. He squirmed in your hands, but he couldn’t deny that this felt so much better. Once you got him to a steady rhythm, you began to thrust up into him to meet each bounce of his hips.

       By then, your husband was gone, mind solely focused on the feeling of your dick in him. His tits and hair bounced with each thrust. He came without warning, clearly already too fucked out to pay attention. However, when prompted with continuing, he eagerly nodded yes. “H-happy birthday, babe,” your beloved mumbled as you resumed fucking into him.

       The bright sun peeked through your blinds as you woke up. The first thing you noticed was the smell of something in the air, then you immediately recognized it: it was your favorite breakfast, specifically made by your boyfriend. You glanced at the alarm clock beside you, which read 8:32. Did he seriously wake up early to cook for you? 

       Apparently he did, seeing as he walked into the room whilst holding a breakfast tray just as you were about to get out of bed. He ushered you back into sitting down and set the tray on your lap. He took the utensil from you, insistent on feeding you himself, saying something about it being your birthday so you shouldn’t have to do anything.

       However, that quickly became heated kisses once you had finished your food. Your beloved moved the tray out of the way and made you lie down on the bed again. His hands move up and down your body, slipping off your sleepwear with whispered words of praise.

       His hips gently rocked against yours as his mouth roamed your body, muttering compliments in between kisses. He folded your body in half without effort, a clearly shameless show of strength on his part. He prepped you slowly, since he wanted to take his time with you today.

       Your boyfriend pushed into you, causing you to gasp in pleasure. Your nails dug into his back as he thrusted into. The soft caressing of his hands contrasted his rough thrusts that nailed your prostate each time. You couldn’t help but moan and scream his name, begging for more or less, you weren’t sure.

       He came deep inside you, as your own cum splattered against your stomach. Your beloved pulled out, gently massaging your now sore thighs and ass with his rough hands. He mumbled soft words of love adoration as he attempted to soothe you.

       He smoothed out the hair that now stuck to your forehead with sweat and pressed a chaste kiss there. Your boyfriend then proceeded to press small kisses all over you, causing you both to break out in a fit of laughter. “Happy birthday, baby,” he whispered against your skin.

[primalsharkman]

Sweet and Spicy

Jo Yuri x M Reader | 🔞 Smut

[idol x manager, she wants u lil bro]

Word Count: 3,654

As you sat down at your bed, in your small studio apartment, taking in the long day you just had, you take stock of everything you had been going through these past few months.

For once in your crappy life, you found a way to turn your quiet days into a job, applying for literally anything on the market. That was when a friend of yours, Jo Yuri, yes, Yuri from IZ*ONE, well, used to be IZ*ONE, found you submitting your resume at the small company she works at.

Intrigued by your looks, she asked the people that was managing her at the time what you were doing there, and they explained that you were applying for a job. Not soon after, there were online calls, and sit-down interviews, and then they gave you the job.

It was a little stressful at first, that's only because you didn't really know what you were doing. All you were told by the people regularly working with Yuri is to just follow her orders and take notes from her old manager, who was going to pursue a new career, and took you under his wing as he guided you to her everyday routines and activities.

You eventually learned how to handle Yuri, from her breakfast, her choice of coffee, towards the end of the day where you make sure she's back at her place safely.

As for Yuri, it never really hit you how soft and sweet she really is. You take care of her very often, and she often reminds you how grateful she is. It's a very difficult job, but Yuri makes it a hundred times easier.

You smiled to yourself as you got ready to sleep, took your phone to scroll through some reels, a text popped up on your screen, it was Yuri.

"U awake?"

You didn't hesitate to reply back, "Yeah, what's up?"

"I'm feeling lonely... :("

"Oh, do you want me to come over?"

"Bring some ramen and fishcakes too please :3"

"Alright, I'll be there in 10"

And just like that, you compromised your comfortable position in bed, and got up again to get your keys and wallet. You grabbed a fresh hoodie and wore some jogging pants before going out to the nearest convenience store to buy Yuri her ramen and fishcakes.

You didn't even think twice, you just went to the convenience store, picked up the food and drove right ahead to her place.

The stairs going up to her apartment were very long, so thank god the elevator is working. After pressing the button and waiting, you were left there with your thoughts. That's when it hit you: You've never been alone with her.

Sure, there are moments during the job which required the two of you to be alone, such as car rides, airplane rides, or the few minutes at the backstage dressing room where all the stylists have gone out and it was just the two of you. But, you two were never left alone in this capacity, in a very private setting, for quite some time, given she invited you over to eat as well.

Shaking away these thoughts were the ding signifying the elevator was there, and along with it, the doors opening. Stepping inside, was just you. As the doors closed, your fate was slowly sealed for the rest of the night.

Another ding rang out, this means you're on her floor now, which meant it was time to step out of the elevator. Carrying the bag of food she requested, you simply walked along the hallway, looking for her door. And then you saw it, Room 1029. This was her door.

The doorbell beside was already calling your name, and you took the chance to press it, where the chime of the bell had echoed in her apartment, making her leave the bed and walk towards her door to let you in.

As she opens the door, you were quite shocked to see what she was wearing. She had her hair tied in a clamp, she wore a black camisole that hugged her top and showed a little bit of her cleavage, and paired with that are black bike shorts, it made it seem like her white legs were greeting you with a smile, and on top of that, she was wearing cute fluffy bunny slippers that completed her look.

"Hi, come in. Thank goodness you're finally here, i'm kinda starving." She said that with a smile, which you can consider a smirk, but you paid little attention to the detail.

"Thank you, I'll cook your ramen, can you point me to the kitchen?" You say as you take your shoes off and set it aside.

"It's right over there, thanks a lot!" She says that with a beam of sunshine on her face.

She offered you some fluffy slippers as well, so you took it. After wearing them, it really is super comfortable, and it made your bare feet feel like it was already in bed.

Going straight to her kitchen, you took out the ramen packs and boiled some water. Yuri went by your side, touching your arm in the process.

"Aren't you wondering why I felt lonely?"

"I was thinking you'd tell me later."

"Well... it's a bit of a long story, but I'd really love to tell you why."

It was almost like teasing, the way her tone sounded during those words. You could only nod as a response, still being clueless as to what Yuri was trying to do, and it made her a little needy, seeing her manager being aloof, trying to bring his walls up to deny her advances. But Yuri hasn't started yet.

"I wanted some good times. My old managers were female, but they provided me whatever I needed, sending over some, company." Yuri is rubbing her palm up and down your arm now.

"Good times? What does that mean?" You ask, confused by what she meant.

"It's a very lonely industry, I used to be in a group, so I was never really alone back then, but these days, I find myself more and more lonely, and I've been looking for people to... spend time with."

"So me? Your manager?"

"Ah... but you could be more than just my manager." Yuri winks.

You take the ramen and pour it out on two bowls, and prepare her fishcakes as well. "Like what?"

She takes the pot from you, and puts it down gently on the sink before walking back and caressing your chest.

"I'd be happy to show you later, oppa."

The tension in that room really went high once she said that word in a sultry tone. It was getting really dangerous, and it could boil at any minute, and it made you scared. If things did happen, you could get fired, and that'll be the least of your problems.

"Ah... Yuri, the food is ready..." You look away, staring at the prepared food beside you.

She smirks and takes her hands off of you. "Okay, let's have a warm meal first."

You breathe a sigh of relief as the both of you bring the food to the small dining table nearby, and she deliberately sat beside you, in a very close manner.

She takes a sip of the noodles, and hummed in delight. "Ahh... you got the delicious ones, this is great!"

"I like this brand too. It's my hangover meal."

She raises her brows with a smile. "You drink heavy, oppa?"

There she goes again. It just hits a nerve within you, and every time she says it you just want to throw yourself out the window before you do anything stupid.

"No... just casually... when there's an event."

"I see." She says as she goes back to sipping her noodles.

The tension is higher than ever now. It was very difficult nursing a raging boner in your pants while hearing her say those words, thank goodness she hasn't looked down yet.

Unfortunately for you, that's exactly what she's going for. You try to stay focused, sipping on your ramen and praying to god she's not planning any more funny stuff. But Yuri was planning for more funny stuff, and she looked down to see a bulge on your pants, and she smiled to herself knowing that she has won, without even laying a finger on you.

In your head, everything was circling and you were getting dizzy thinking about a lot of things. All the clearer and innocent thoughts have been thrown out the window, and you think back to the way she answered the door for you earlier, with nearly everything just exposed, and it got your cock twitching with excitement while you desperately try to think about something disgusting to remove that boner before Yuri says anything about it.

"Is there a phone in your pants, or are you just excited to see me?" Yuri smiles and traces her fingers along your thighs, dangerously close to your crotch, then you freeze.

There was no response. Your brain has short-circuited, and the neurons that your brain was supposed to send to your mouth to start talking has been neutralized by this girl, your supposed boss, who has her hand inching closer, and closer, nearing the inevitable part of touching that raging boner you had been hiding, and as time slows down, her pinky got there first.

She had a small feel of your cock. Albeit far from actually touching your cock, she was there. She was still inching, until her entire hand was laid there on top of your crotch, and she was smiling.

"Oppa, are you okay?" She asked, smiling, hoping to break you out of your frozen trance.

"Yuri..."

She stood from her chair, leaned to your side, and wrapped her arms around your neck before she whispers, "Why did you have to wear such a thick fabric tonight? This would've been so much easier."

"I'm not sure... how to respond, Yuri. What are you doing to me...?"

She breaks a smile as she kisses your cheek, "It's pretty obvious. I called you over because I'm lonely, and I needed a man to fuck me. And you are so hot oppa, I've been wanting you ever since you applied for this job, I wanted them to hire you, and I have been waiting until you're comfortable enough to come to my home, and use my body as you wish."

Your cock had viciously twitched, and it really hurt for it to be in your pants, and that was all the response Yuri needed from you.

"Come on, let's go to my room, get these clothes out of the way." She giggles as she says it.

"W-wait... I might get fired."

"For what? Doing your job?" She smiles again as she takes your hand in hers.

"This... is part of the job?" You look at her with an eyebrow up, confused.

"Your job includes taking care of my every need, and right now, I need you. Don't worry, okay? Everything will be okay, I promise."

"None of this will get out?"

"I should be the one asking you that, cutie." Yuri smiles again, that damned smile.

It finally makes you crack a smile, and you wholeheartedly embrace the situation you are in, so you lean in slowly and kiss her.

She returns the kiss with a strong fervor, and cups your cheeks as she deepens the kiss. Your hands roam around the side of her body, before landing on her hips, hugging her figure and pulling her closer to you.

Yuri moans in the kiss, and this made you hungrier, more needy, and started kissing her with a burning passion, and those touches on her hips turn into something more of a primal instinct, you grabbed her ass, and carried her. In turn, Yuri wrapped her legs around you as she got even deeper into the kiss, whining and moaning while you try to walk towards her room with Yuri pointing out where to go.

Once you were in front of her door, fiddling with the doorknob, Yuri laughs at you cutely and you give her a sly smile, before finally looking down and opening the door to her room.

Her room is pretty cluttered, pink walls, with her dressing table with a vanity mirror attached to it, a lot of makeup products scattered on the table, her hair dryer splayed on the chair, and some clothes hanging on the chair itself. There is another table across, her laptop right there, along with some pens and paper, you're assuming she's studying something, going to online classes.

Then there's her bed, it's a really comfortable looking bed, with weighted blankets, and a lot of stuff toys on the pillows, since they all look so different, you can assume that those are the gifts she's received from fans over the years.

You walk her towards the bed and plop her down, and she starts clearing her bed out, taking her plushies and stuffed toys and tossing it towards the chair near the bed, stacking them on top of each other. You sat on her bed, waiting for her to finish, and she flashes you a quick giggle while she's clearing her bed out, which earned a sweet smile from you.

Once she was done, she took a pillow and placed it on the floor in front of you, before kneeling on it, "I think you deserve something from me, after I really made your life hard." She says as she moves her hands towards the band of your thick sweatpants and pull it down slowly, along with your boxers, revealing your throbbing cock, which earned a relieving gasp from you, finally letting it breathe after getting set free.

"Ooh..." Her fingers wrap around your length, as she takes into stock the girth of it all, looking at it up and down while she slowly strokes your cock to understand its length.

The way her fingers are moving elicits a low moan from you, it feels like she knows where to hit you, and it feels really good. She hasn't even done anything that's going to break you just yet.

"It's quite big... but I think I can take this." She closes her eyes and places small kisses on the frenulum, trailing them downward, and takes your balls into her mouth, while stroking your length slowly. Her eyes drift from appreciating the length of your cock towards your eyes, making eye contact with you.

You see the hunger in her eyes, as she takes your balls gracefully and using her other hand to grip you properly and stroke you well, and damn does it feel so good with every single lick, and every single stroke with her hand just feels like heaven.

It's pretty obvious that she has done this before, the way she knows how to jerk you off, her licks on your underside with just enough pressure, her thumbing your frenulum while she spits on the head of your cock to make everything feel wetter and so much better.

Twitch after twitch, she notices you gripping her sheets, trying not to cum right then and there.

"I know I'm that good but, already?" She smiles and lets your cock go, leaving you with an empty feeling and thrusting into the air wanting for more.

"You're cute, oppa. I'll suck your cock, but promise me not to cum, okay?"

"Okay..."

She puts her hands behind her back, smirking and taking in the head of your cock in her mouth, without a single touch. She slowly lowers herself, deeper and deeper into your cock, until her nose touches your pelvic area, and her beautiful mouth has enveloped your cock.

You were struggling, you could feel her throat opening and closing on your cock and it's unbelievably difficult to maintain your composure, doing your best not to bust right then and there. You keep your hand right above her head, wanting to touch her and hold her right there but you freeze, your hand just shaking in the air while your eyes are rolling to the back of your head.

Yuri slowly comes back up, and you feel the cool air on the base of your cock again, but it didn't last long as she starts bobbing her head faster, sucking your cock passionately and trailing her eyes towards you.

Looking at you just made her want to break you more, sucking your cock faster, and finally using her hands to fondle your balls at the same time.

The pressure and the pleasure of her blowjob is making you moan so loud, her spit trailing down the length of your cock, down to your balls, her chin, and the floor underneath.

"Yuri... oh my fucking god... I don't think I can last any longer if you keep that up."

She suddenly stops, edging you, and smiles as she wipes the drool off her chin and giggles, "Okay, I'll stop now."

"W-what...?"

"You can't cum yet. I still need you hard."

"But.. I'm so close..."

"Nope. You promised not to cum yet." She smiles and stands, taking her pillow and dusting it off before tossing it back on the bed.

"You're mean."

"Am I?" Her camisole comes off, revealing a cute pair of tits, and asks you to do the same.

You finally take your hoodie off, as well as your shirt, tossing it across the room with the rest of your clothes. Now it's just Yuri in her shorts, and your eyes are locked towards her boobs.

"Okay oppa, fuck me." Yuri slowly takes off her shorts, tosses it away, and you finally see her pussy, which is unbelievably wet.

You grab her and place her down the bed, spreading her legs and gliding two of your fingers down on her, earning a cute moan.

She grabs your cock, still wet from her spit, and grazes your cock head on her slit, earning louder moans. She tries to insert it herself, being very impatient, and without a care, you plunged it inside her deep.

"Ahh! Fuck!" She moans as your cock slides in easily, fucking her relentlessly without any build-up.

Her arms wrap around your head while you bury your lips into her neck, with her moaning louder with each strong thrust.

"Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck! Don't stop! Keep going hard! Yes!" Earlier she was breaking you, and now that you have control, fucking her into delight, you're breaking her.

"Take this fucking cock, Yuri. You love this fucking cock don't you?"

"Yes! I love that cock! Please please please!"

She was creaming down there, getting white cream all over the length of your cock and down towards the bed, she's unbelievably horny, and her legs are shaking again and again, cumming over and over without you stopping, or skipping a beat.

Her eyes have rolled behind her head and her grip on your neck has loosened, her body splayed down the bed taking your massive pounding again and again.

You've managed to hold your cum off now, and you're feeling that familiar feeling down there, and you just can't hold it any longer.

"Yuri... I'm gonna fucking cum..."

"Don't you dare pull out."

"What...?"

"Finish inside me, deep inside, make an even bigger mess than I am making, please."

"I could get in trou-"

"Just fucking cum inside! I'm safe! Please! Ohh my fucking god!"

You feel her pussy tighten and loosen again, signifying that she came for an uncountable number this night, and you finally break, spraying load after load of thick cum deep inside her, mixing with her creamy pussy and making a huge creampie mess right then and there, spilling out of her pussy and leaking on the sheets.

"There... fuck... there..." You say as you fall down beside her, pulling out and letting her the mixed juices of her cum and yours inside her pussy leak down.

"That... was the best creampie I have ever gotten." She pants as she closes her eyes.

You hug her, "We should change your sheets before we sleep..."

"Okay..." She wobbles up, her legs shaking, making you smile, because you did that. You made her cum again and again and now she could barely walk.

You asked where her sheets are and changed everything yourself. Afterwards, you took a towel and cleaned her off before finally going back to bed so you two could cuddle.

"I'm glad you're my manager, oppa."

"You can drop the oppa act now, Yuri, I fucked you already."

"No, I mean it. On top of being a handsome dude, you fuck like a machine, so much better than any guy I've ever had. But I need you to promise something..."

"What is it?" You take her chin and make her look up at you.

"You know that my career is... pretty unstable. I don't get schedules on a regular basis, or even make music a guarantee." She says as you nod.

"Promise you'll stay through the rough times? You've been really good to me, you're an amazing manager and I know you're here for a paycheck, but it would be really great if you stayed."

You plant a kiss on her lips and smile, "Yuri, I'll stay. It times get rough, I'll do anything with you to get a paycheck. I know you're not in a stable position, but we'll get there. I'll help find you opportunities, whether that be a comeback or an acting gig, maybe something else, but I'll stay, for you."

"Thank you." She smiles as she gives you a softer kiss this time.

"I love you." She says one more time before closing her eyes.

"I love you too." You reply. Whatever love means to Yuri, you know you're in for the long haul, whether you like it or not.

-FIN-

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: Here you go Glassys, I hope you like this one. If you all want, you could send me some inspiration for fics, pictures or prompts, go ahead. I probably won't do requests, but short inspirations would be awesome. Thanks for the support thus far, and I love you all.

Just keep swimming.

-Shark

[heliosunny]

Hello!! hello! i love all your works!!! and how much you post per day???? pls take breaks between writing if you can!

i read the streamer!jing yuan one...

if requests are open can i request sunday with the same scenario?

i imagine he'd never play any otome games on his own so robin would have to coerce him into playing the game. i also see him to be the type of player who'd clear every route and have things down to a T ...

but what if there was one route he never finished? the hardest route to trigger and the one with the most bad endings cause the favourability bar is super fickle?

but the payoff is worth it once he somehow???? manages to trigger a yandere event hehe

Yandere!Streamer Sunday x Reader

Game Loading… Welcome Back.

Sunday leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms before settling in for another long night. He still couldn’t believe he was doing this.

When Robin had first forced him to play, he’d scoffed at the idea. Him? A dating game? No way. But somewhere along the way—after countless hours, multiple endings, and way too much money spent on DLC—he’d become obsessed. His competitive streak wouldn’t let him quit until he had 100% completion.

And yet, one route remained unfinished.

Yours.

You were the hardest love interest to win over, your favorability bar more unstable than any other. No matter what he did, one wrong move could send it plummeting. He had watched others fail, seen forums filled with players begging for hints. No one had a clear guide. No one had reached the true ending.

Tonight, that would change.

“Alright, chat” he muttered, rolling his shoulders. “I don’t care how long it takes—I’m finishing Y/N’s route tonight.”

“Sunday, you’re too deep in, bro.” “At this point, Y/N is your real partner.” “No way you’re getting the true ending. It’s cursed.” “Watch him fumble and lose favorability in five minutes.”

He exhaled, ignoring the teasing comments as the title screen faded, and the game resumed where he left off.

This was it.

Carefully, he selected his next dialogue option, choosing words with precision. Your sprite appeared, and for the first time in all his failed attempts, the favorability bar twitched upward.

[Favorability +5]

“That’s new” he muttered, brows furrowing. Chat exploded with excitement, theories flying in real-time. He leaned in, hyper-focused. The background music softened, replaced by an eerie silence.

Then, the screen flickered.

“What the-?”

Your expression on screen shifted. Subtle, almost imperceptible. The soft smile you usually wore seemed… off. Before he could react, a new dialogue box popped up.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

“?????” “This isn’t in the script, bro.” “GOT THE SECRET ROUTE?!” “ABORT. ABORT.”

Before he could click anything, the screen distorted. Pixels warped, the background dissolving into a mess of static. A sudden high-pitched ringing filled his headphones.

Then—darkness.

Sunday had always been good at games. He could grind through any RPG, master mechanics, and break down any system with enough time and effort. But Ethereal Reverie: Fated Bonds was different.

When he stumbled upon your route, he had been hooked.

You were different from other love interests. You're the ultimate challenge. And Sunday loves that.

In the world of Ethereal Reverie, you were the kingdom’s renowned scholar and strategist, sought after by nobles and rulers alike. Your mind was your greatest weapon, and you wielded it with precision. Unlike the other characters—who were knights, royals, and adventurers—you had no need for physical prowess. Instead, you navigated court politics, warfare, and intrigue, always three steps ahead of everyone else.

Most players never even got past your acquaintance phase. Your favorability was infamously fickle—one wrong move and you'd cut ties with the protagonist entirely, locking them out of your story. It was said that only a handful of players had even managed to trigger a romance flag, and none had reached the true ending.

Sunday was determined to be the first.

But now, as he stared up at you—no longer a 2D sprite but a living, breathing person—he realized he had made a grave mistake.

“Sunday.”

His breath caught in his throat. You knew his name. That wasn’t possible. His in-game avatar had a preset name—Caius—the default protagonist. But you weren’t looking at Caius. You were looking at him.

Sunday barely had time to process what was happening before another voice called out from behind you.

“Lord Sunday, you’ve finally arrived.”

What?

It wasn’t just you.

He turned his head sharply, eyes darting around. The grand stone courtyard he had landed in was familiar—ornate fountains, banners bearing the royal crest, and intricate marble pillars. This was the capital’s royal palace, the heart of the kingdom.

He knew this place. He had seen it countless times in the game.

But this wasn’t the protagonist’s usual starting point.

And then the pieces clicked.

His ornate outfit, the way the NPCs were addressing him, the "Lord" title—

This wasn’t his usual avatar.

The game hadn’t just dragged him into the world. It had assigned him a new role.

A dangerous one.

There was only one person in Ethereal Reverie who was constantly at odds with you. One person who stood as your rival in the court’s deadly political game. The one strategist whose name was whispered with both admiration and fear—

Lord Sunday, the Grand Strategist of the Northern Territories.

He had become your greatest enemy.

Why the hell did the game slot me into the villain’s role?

“Lord Sunday. I hope you’re ready. We have much to discuss.”

He had spent a month obsessing over you, trying to understand your thought process, learning every intricate detail of your route. He knew how dangerous you could be.

And now, he was trapped inside the game—forced to be your rival.

The tension in the grand hall was suffocating.

Sunday sat at the long, polished table, hands clenched into fists against his lap as his brain scrambled to keep up. Across from him, you stood poised, arms crossed, your expression carefully neutral—yet he could see the sharpness in your gaze, the unmistakable glint of contempt.

You hated him.

Which was funny, considering he had spent weeks trying to get you to like him.

“This is reckless” you said coldly, turning away from him to address the gathered nobles and military officers. “If we march our forces north under such a thinly-veiled deception, we risk stretching our supply lines too far. It’s a fool’s errand.”

Sunday barely heard the murmurs of agreement that followed. His mind was still caught on the fact that you were speaking to him like he was an actual person. Not a scripted character, but as though he had always been here—as though this world had been real from the start.

And worst of all?

His name, his role in this world, had come with pre-existing relationships—and every single one of them pointed to you absolutely despising him.

He could feel the weight of the stares on him, waiting for his rebuttal. He had no choice but to play along.

“Stretching our supply lines?” he scoffed, leaning back into his chair, “What, do you think my forces can’t handle a simple flanking maneuver? Or do you just enjoy opposing me on principle?”

A flicker of irritation crossed your face. “I oppose stupid ideas on principle.”

There it is.

You had always been like this in the game—blunt, tactical, calculating. You didn’t suffer fools, and apparently, he was a fool in your eyes.

Fine. If that’s how this world saw him, he’d use it to his advantage.

“The southern front is already stabilizing” he continued smoothly, gesturing to the map. “If we strike before the enemy fully regroups, we force them into a defensive position and eliminate their supply routes. You can’t tell me you don’t see the logic in that.”

You narrowed your eyes, and for a moment, Sunday swore he saw something flicker across your expression.

Then, your lips curled into a humorless smile.

“Oh, I see the logic. I also see the arrogance of a man who plays at war like a gambler throwing dice.”

A collective oof rippled through the court. Even Sunday felt that one.

The tension between the two of you was so thick it could be cut with a blade.

“Tell me, Lord Sunday” you continued, “when was the last time one of your little schemes didn’t end in absolute disaster?”

That was a loaded question.

And one he definitely didn’t know the answer to.

Because he had no idea what his past self had actually done in this world.

What the hell did my predecessor do to make you hate me this much?!

Sunday knew when to back down. He had spent the past month failing your route over and over again, watching his choices backfire, and seeing your favorability bar plummet to zero in an instant. Pushing you wouldn’t work.

So, he changed tactics.

For the next few weeks, Sunday did what he did best—he studied you.

Not in the obsessive, love-struck way he had before. No, this time, he played the role the game had given him—your rival. A nuisance at court, a persistent thorn in your side, someone you could never quite get rid of.

But somewhere along the way, he started slipping into your life.

When you left the palace on a diplomatic mission, your caravan mysteriously found safe passage through bandit territory—unaware that Sunday had bribed the local mercenaries to keep them away.

When you spent long nights buried in military reports, a second set of documents would appear on your desk—already summarized with the most critical information highlighted.

When an assassination attempt nearly succeeded in the dead of night, your would-be killer was found dead in an alley the next morning. The guards claimed they had no idea who had done it.

And your favorability bar?

It didn’t move.

No matter how many times Sunday secretly lent a hand, no matter how much effort he put in, you remained completely indifferent to him.

It was infuriating.

It was addicting.

But then, Kristiana betrayed you.

And Sunday knew—this was it. This was where he had to step in.

Kristiana—your most trusted friend, the one person you had allowed yourself to rely on—had sold you out.

For what?

Power. Influence. A higher seat at the table.

Sunday had seen the signs before you did.

But even he hadn’t expected it to be this cruel.

By the time you realized, it was too late.

The palace was in an uproar, whispers spreading like wildfire. You had been accused of treason. Fabricated evidence, falsified reports—all of it meticulously crafted to erase you from power.

And it would have worked.

If Sunday hadn’t stepped in.

When you were dragged into the throne room, stripped of your titles and power, the nobles stood like vultures, watching your downfall with thinly veiled amusement. Kristiana stood at the front, her expression unreadable.

And then—

Sunday spoke.

“...What an interesting turn of events.”

His voice was lazy, amused, and every single person in the room stiffened. Because Sunday never spoke at these gatherings unless he had something dangerous to say.

You turned to him, eyes narrowing. “What are you playing at?”

He ignored you.

“Forgive me, Your Majesty, but are we really accusing the kingdom’s greatest strategist of treason?” He chuckled. “How convenient. And Kristiana, of all people, is the one bringing it forward?”

Kristiana lifted her chin. “The evidence is irrefutable.”

Sunday tilted his head. “Is it?”

Then, before anyone could react, he threw a stack of papers onto the table.

“What—” Kristiana’s eyes widened.

Sunday grinned. “Because I have evidence too. And mine says you’re the traitor.”

Kristiana paled.

“Oh, don’t look so surprised,” he said, “Did you really think I wouldn’t notice?”

He turned to look at you “I told you, didn’t I?” His voice was quieter now, softer, just for you. “You don’t have to fight alone.”

And for the first time since you met him, since he arrived in this world, your favorability bar moved.

All eyes were on Sunday. It was infuriating how effortlessly he controlled the room.

He had just turned your execution trial into his own personal stage.

Kristiana’s hands trembled as she stared at the documents he had thrown onto the table. Papers filled with her secret dealings, her correspondence with enemy factions—detailed proof that she had orchestrated everything.

You didn’t know whether to feel furious or relieved.

Kristiana quickly schooled her expression, regaining her composure. “This is absurd” she said sharply, eyes flicking between Sunday and the king. “Lord Sunday has always opposed Y/N. He has no reason to support them now unless—”

Her gaze snapped to you, then back to Sunday.

“…Unless he’s playing a game of his own.”

She was right. Sunday was known for strategy, deception, manipulation. He wasn’t a savior. He was your rival. You thought.

This wasn’t kindness—this was tactics.

Kristiana latched onto that, her voice rising. “Your Majesty, can’t you see? This is just another one of his ploys! He—he’s aligning with them to further his own agenda!”

Sunday let out a low chuckle.

��Now, now, Kristiana.” His tone was almost mocking. “If that were true, wouldn’t it make you the fool for not realizing it sooner?”

Kristiana’s face burned red with rage.

And you didn’t know what to believe.

Sunday’s interference had saved you. But why?

You weren’t friends. You weren’t allies. You were enemies.

“Your Majesty” Sunday finally said, turning to the king with that same, insufferable confidence. “With all due respect, I think it’s clear who the real traitor is.”

The king’s gaze flickered between you and Kristiana. The weight of the court’s murmurs filled the air.

“Guards” the king ordered. “…Take Kristiana into custody.”

“Wait—!”

The guards moved instantly, seizing her arms before she could react. She thrashed against them, screaming your name—screaming that you would regret this. That Sunday would betray you, too.

And maybe she was right.

You didn’t even notice how tightly your hands had curled into fists until you felt the sting of your own nails against your palms.

The moment the doors slammed shut behind Kristiana’s struggling form, the tension in the room finally snapped.

“What do you want?” you asked him, voice carefully neutral.

Sunday smiled.

“I’m resigning from my position as Grand Strategist.”

The room erupted.

“You—”

Sunday’s smirk didn’t waver as he turned his back on them all. “Figure the rest out yourselves. I’m done.”

And with that, he walked away.

Sunday had abandoned his entire career.

For what?

You didn’t know.

And that was the most dangerous part of all.

The tavern was dimly lit, the scent of alcohol and warm food hanging in the air. It was quieter than usual—most of the patrons had already retreated to their rooms or stumbled home.

Sunday sat alone in the corner, one hand wrapped loosely around a glass of dark liquor. He wasn’t drunk, but there was a sluggishness to his movements.

His fingers tapped idly against the table as he swirled the drink in his hand. Resigning had been necessary. The position was a leash, binding him to forces he had no control over. And if he wanted to truly be close to you— if he wanted to get everything he desired—

He had to start over.

“I thought I’d find you here.”

His eyes snapped open.

You stood at the entrance of the tavern. Unlike in the palace, where your every movement was calculated, here, in the dim light of the inn, there was something… different about you.

Sunday leaned back in his chair, “What, no gloating? I thought you’d be thrilled to see me jobless and miserable.”

You sighed, stepping forward. “I don’t have time for your dramatics.”

You pulled out the chair across from him and sat down, elbows resting on the worn wooden table.

“Why did you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Don’t play dumb.”

“Kristiana was a problem,” he said simply. “I dealt with it.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

For a moment, he considered telling you the truth. That you were the reason. That, in another life, he had spent weeks chasing after you, memorizing every dialogue choice, failing and failing just to see you look at him with something other than cold indifference.

That this was all a game to him once—but now?

Now, it was his reality.

“Would you believe me if I said I was just tired of playing the role they wanted me to?”

Your brows furrowed, caught off guard by his sincerity.

“I should just let you waste away here, but…”

You hesitated. Then, with a sigh, you reached into your coat and slid a folded letter across the table.

“…I need a strategist.”

His fingers brushed over the letter as he picked it up, unfolding it with careful precision. His eyes scanned the contents—an official contract, under your seal. The offer was clear: a position within your faction, under your personal command.

He had to bite back the grin threatening to form.

Staying in the palace as Grand Strategist kept him shackled to the court’s politics, unable to act freely. But working under you?

That gave him access to everything.

To you.

“Does this mean we’re friends now?”

“Don’t push it.”

“I accept.”

And just like that—

He had slipped right back into your life.

The first few days of having Sunday around were... strange.

You weren’t used to having someone constantly at your side. At first, you thought giving him a position as your personal servant was just a way to keep him under control—make sure he wasn’t scheming something behind your back. After all, he was your enemy.

Or at least, he used to be.

Now, he was everywhere.

You barely had a moment to breathe without Sunday inserting himself into your routine. If you so much as reached for a teapot, he was already pouring your tea. If you sighed after a long day of dealing with incompetent nobles, he was magically at your side, hands on your shoulders, pressing into the knots of tension like he’d done it a thousand times before.

“Why are you still here?” you muttered, pinching the bridge of your nose.

Sunday, standing beside your desk, completely unbothered, merely hummed as he flipped through the reports you had been working on. “Making sure you don’t overwork yourself.”

“I can handle myself.”

“Mm. Clearly.” He held up a document, tilting his head. “Like this mistake right here?”

You snatched the paper from his hand, scanning it quickly—only to freeze when you spotted the minor miscalculation. Your grip on the paper tightened.

Sunday smirked. “You’re welcome.”

You exhaled sharply, setting the document down before rubbing your temples. “I should fire you.”

“But you won’t.”

With a sigh, you leaned back in your chair, exhaustion settling in. You had been working since morning, and the strain was finally catching up to you.

Without a word, Sunday moved behind you.

Before you could react, his hands were on your shoulders, fingers pressing into the knots of tension with practiced ease.

“…You’re tense”

You gritted your teeth. “Maybe because someone keeps breathing down my neck.”

He chuckled, his fingers working at the tension with slow, deliberate pressure. It felt annoyingly good. You hated to admit it, but he was good at this.

“You know” he said, “I think I’m growing on you.”

Your eyes snapped open.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

And yet, he didn’t stop.

---

𝑺𝒚𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒎 𝑨𝒍𝒆𝒓𝒕: 𝑷𝒍𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒓 𝑯𝒂𝒔 𝑫𝒊𝒆𝒅. Secret route triggered. Remaining lives: 4

Sunday gasped as his consciousness was yanked back into existence. One moment, there was nothing—just the cold, suffocating embrace of death. And then, suddenly—He was back.

He jolted upright, hand instinctively clutching his chest. He could still feel it. The sharp pain. The blood. The sheer betrayal.

You had killed him.

Not out of hatred. Not out of revenge.

But because you thought he was scheming against you.

The memory was blurry. He remembered standing in your office, your cold, empty gaze, the guards stepping forward—your blade piercing through him.

This was new. The system had never interfered like this before. He had suspected that this world wasn’t entirely real, but for it to suddenly have rules about death?

The message had been clear:

If he died four more times, he was gone for good.

And there was only one way to stop that from happening.

He had to figure out why you had killed him.

-2nd life-

This time, Sunday was careful.

He stayed out of sight. He watched. He listened. He took note of everything—the way the guards moved, the shifts in your behavior, the whispers among the servants.

And yet, despite all his caution, he still died.

A dagger in the dark.

Slipping through his ribs as he passed through the halls alone.

𝑺𝒚𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒎 𝑨𝒍𝒆𝒓𝒕: 𝑷𝒍𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒓 𝑯𝒂𝒔 𝑫𝒊𝒆𝒅. Remaining lives: 3

-3rd life-

He wasn’t alone this time.

He stuck by your side closer than ever, watching you, watching your people. And still— The moment he took a sip of wine, his throat locked up. His vision blurred. Poison. As his body collapsed to the floor, he saw the wide-eyed horror on your face, the way you rushed to his side.

The way you whispered, "Who did this?"

But the system was already pulling him back.

𝑺𝒚𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒎 𝑨𝒍𝒆𝒓𝒕: 𝑷𝒍𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒓 𝑯𝒂𝒔 𝑫𝒊𝒆𝒅. Remaining lives: 2

---

When he came back again, Sunday finally had enough pieces.

He had overheard the murmurs between the palace servants. How they whispered in dark corners, how they spoke of him as if he was a threat. How someone had been spreading lies about him to you.

You had always been calculating. If you believed he was plotting something, then that meant you were given evidence.

Fabricated evidence.

And just like that—he knew.

Someone in your inner circle wanted him dead.

And if he didn’t fix it soon,

he would die for real.

Sunday had two lives left.

This time, he didn’t act recklessly. He smiled at the servants. Charmed the guards. Pretended he didn’t know that any of them had already been responsible for his previous deaths.

And most importantly?

He stayed close to you.

It didn’t take long for him to confirm his suspicions.

The whispers in the halls, the stolen glances between certain attendants, the way they avoided his gaze whenever he passed. Someone had been feeding you lies about him.

Twisting the truth. Painting him as a traitor.

And the final piece clicked into place when he overheard a conversation outside the grand hall.

“Has the master grown suspicious?”

“Not yet. But if that man continues to cling to them, we’ll have to push harder. The evidence is nearly ready.”

Evidence.

They think they can manipulate me?

They have no idea who they’re dealing with.

He had to move carefully.

But even knowing what he knew, he still miscalculated.

Sunday had been following the movements of one of the suspicious attendants, gathering clues, trying to find solid proof before he confronted you—

When he felt the cold press of a blade against his throat.

“You should have stayed in your place.”

The blade sliced.

𝑺𝒚𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒎 𝑨𝒍𝒆𝒓𝒕: 𝑷𝒍𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒓 𝑯𝒂𝒔 𝑫𝒊𝒆𝒅.

-Last chance-

Sunday woke up shaking.

This was it. One life left.

The moment he was revived, he went straight to you.

He didn’t wait for the lies to spread again. Didn’t wait for another chance to be stabbed in the dark.

He had to make you listen. So when he found you in your private study, brow furrowed over a new report, Sunday did something he had never done before.

He dropped to his knees.

“What are you—?”

“Someone has been feeding you false information about me.”

“What?”

“I don’t know who exactly is behind it, but I have proof that some of the palace attendants have been manipulating you,” he said, voice low and urgent. “I’ve overheard them talking. The whispers in the halls. The fabricated ‘evidence’ against me.”

“Tell me,” he said, “what did they show you?”

You hesitated.

Your fingers tightened over the report in your hands.

Sunday saw the conflict in your eyes, the way your mind worked behind that carefully unreadable expression.

For weeks, he had been watching you—learning you. Every minute change in your stance, the flicker of your gaze when something unsettled you. And now?

You were unsettled.

Good.

That meant he was getting somewhere.

“Tell me, then.” Your voice was composed, but he could hear the tension beneath it. “What do you think I saw?”

“Something that made me look like a traitor.”

He pressed on.

“Documents with my forged signature? Secret meetings I never attended?” His voice lowered. “Maybe even an intercepted message—words twisted just enough to convince you that I had been plotting against you all along.”

Sunday exhaled slowly. “You didn’t question it because it made sense, didn’t it?” He tilted his head, a bitter smile playing on his lips. “Because I’ve always been your biggest obstacle. Because I’ve always been the one who stood against you.”

You didn’t answer. But you didn’t deny it, either.

He needed to tread carefully. One wrong move, and you could still see him as a threat.

“But even after all that… you let me stay by your side.” He tilted his head, watching your reaction. “Why?”

“You were useful.”

“Liar”

Sunday sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Look. You don’t trust me. Fine. But at least trust yourself.” His voice softened. “Think about it, really think about it—was there ever a time I actually betrayed you?”

Sunday leaned back slightly, voice steady as he gave his final push. “If you still want to kill me after thinking it through, then do it.”

You stared at him.

Seconds passed.

Then, your fingers loosened over the report in your hands.

You set it down.

“…Who?”

“Let me find out.”

And this time, he wouldn’t die before getting his answer.

For the first time in weeks, Sunday wasn’t lurking in the shadows or biting his tongue. No, this time, he moved freely.

You hadn’t explicitly told him to investigate, but by not ordering him to stop, you had given him permission.

And he would take full advantage of that.

Sunday wasn’t stupid. The moment he started looking too closely, his enemies would know.

So he laid a trap. He spread a rumor. A whisper in the halls, planted through a careless slip to an eavesdropping maid:

“The master is growing suspicious.”

It took less than a day for the rats to scurry.

Late into the night, Sunday followed a group of attendants as they snuck through the palace corridors, slipping into a secluded study.

He pressed against the wall, listening.

“The fool is still alive.”

Kristiana.

Your former best friend.

“No matter. The next attempt will not fail” she continued. “Their trust in him is wavering, but it is not broken. We must strike before it is too late.”

A second voice—one of your high-ranking advisors—spoke up. “Then we must act now. The documents are already prepared. A few words from our informant and the master will be forced to execute him. This time, there will be no hesitation.”

So that’s how they did it.

Forcing your hand. Setting you up so that killing him was the only logical choice.

He stepped into the dimly lit room, the flickering candlelight casting long shadows.

“Do you take me for a fool?”

The room fell silent.

Kristiana’s eyes widened before narrowing. “You shouldn’t be here.”

He let out a soft chuckle. “I shouldn’t be alive either, and yet, here I am.” His gaze flicked over the forged documents on the table, then back to her. “You’re not as subtle as you think.”

The advisor paled. “You have no proof—”

“I don’t need proof, because you’re going to confess.”

Kristiana scoffed. “And why would we do that?”

“Because,” he murmured, taking a slow step forward, “I am still standing here.”

“And that means I know exactly what you’ve done.”

Sunday let the silence stretch before delivering the final blow:

“I wonder what will happen when I tell the master.”

Kristiana was a skilled manipulator, but even the most cunning fox could be outplayed. Still, Kristiana wasn’t the type to surrender without a fight.

“You assume Y/N will believe you.”

“I don’t assume. I know.”

Kristiana clicked her tongue, fingers twitching toward the hidden dagger at her belt.

“Let me guess. This is the part where you try to silence me?”

He didn’t give her the chance.

Before her blade could even leave its sheath, guards swarmed the room.

Her face twisted in shock as soldiers restrained her, yanking the weapon from her grasp.

Sunday turned, finally meeting your gaze as you stepped into the room.

You weren’t looking at him, though.

You were looking at Kristiana.

“…Why?”

Kristiana let out a breathless laugh. “You still don’t get it?” Her smile was sharp. “I was never going to let you win.”

“Take her away.”

[Favorability +20]

For the first time since entering this world, Sunday saw the notification appear.

All this time, he had been serving you, watching you, following you. He had given you his loyalty, his time, even his own life. And yet, only now, after clearing out the people who poisoned your ears, did the game decide to acknowledge his efforts?

Still, he didn’t comment on it. Instead, he watched you.

You had been silent since Kristiana was taken away. You stood there, alone in the now-empty study, eyes flickering with something unreadable.

“…You were right”

Sunday blinked. “What?”

“About Kristiana. About the lies.” Your jaw clenched. “About me being too blind to see it.”

“…You trusted her,” he said simply. “It wasn’t stupid.”

“It was careless.”

“No. It was human.”

[Favorability +10]

This time, he really did laugh.

Your eyes narrowed slightly. “What?”

He shook his head. “Nothing.”

For the first time since Sunday entered this world, things were peaceful.

Kristiana was gone. The whispers had died down.

And you stopped looking at him with suspicion.

You still didn’t fully trust him, but that was fine.

Because you let him stay.

He continued to serve you, just like before.

When you were tired, you didn’t push him away when he set down a cup of tea beside you.

When he disappeared for a few hours, you caught yourself wondering where he had gone.

[Favorabiliy +5]

It was slow.

But it was happening.

Of course, he knew this peace wouldn’t last forever.

Kristiana might be gone, but her knowing smile haunted the back of his mind.

Something else was coming. The true storm. And Sunday would be ready.

The palace halls were silent.

The mourning drapes hung heavy over the grand windows, blocking out the golden light of dawn. Even the servants moved quietly, their usual whispers and hurried footsteps replaced by a solemn stillness.

Your father was gone.

The weight of it pressed down on you like an iron chain.

He had held on as long as he could. Even in his final hours, he had smiled at you—his tired eyes filled with warmth, his hand resting weakly over yours.

“You will be alright.”

His last words echoed in your mind.

But you weren’t.

You could barely eat. Barely drink. Barely breathe.

The world around you blurred. People came and went, offering condolences, yet their voices were distant, as if muffled by water.

And through it all—

Sunday remained.

----

You didn’t see it. Didn’t notice the way Sunday silently turned away envoys, nobles, and officials, intercepting their letters before they could reach your hands. Marriage proposals. Political alliances disguised as heartfelt offers. Opportunists circling like vultures, waiting for the moment your grief would make you vulnerable.

Sunday burned them all.

Every request. Every demand. Every veiled attempt at stealing you away.

They didn’t deserve you.

And if anyone thought they could force your hand—

Well.

They would have to go through him.

-----

The night was cold.

You sat by your father’s desk, the candlelight flickering against the tear-stained letters before you.

You hadn’t touched the meal that had been left for you.

“You need to eat.”

You didn’t respond.

He stepped closer. Gently, he placed a cup of warm broth beside you, the steam curling into the air.

Still, you didn’t move.

“…He wouldn’t want you to waste away like this.”

For a moment, Sunday thought you would ignore him again.

But then, slowly, you reached for the cup. The broth sat warm in your hands, but you barely tasted it. It was just something to do. A distraction. A meaningless action to appease Sunday so he wouldn’t pester you further.

You had expected him to leave once you took a sip.

But he didn’t.

Instead, Sunday crouched beside you, plucking a small piece of softened bread from the untouched plate.

“Here.”

“I can feed myself.”

He didn’t argue. He simply held the bread near your lips, gaze steady.

“You’ve barely eaten in days.”

Before you could second-guess yourself, you leaned forward and took a small bite.

The moment the food hit your tongue, you realized how hungry you truly were.

You had been so caught up in grief, in the crushing weight of loss, that you had ignored your own needs. But now, your body reminded you—loud and clear—that it was starving.

Sunday didn’t say anything as he picked up another piece and lifted it toward you.

And without thinking, you let him feed you.

The warmth of his fingertips, the way he wordlessly knew when to offer you water, the way his gaze never once wavered from yours.

For the first time, you actually looked at him.

He had always been there, hadn’t he? Lingering in the background, watching over you, handling things before you even had to ask.

And now, up close like this, he wasn’t that annoying.

Actually… he was— Handsome.

The thought struck you so suddenly that you nearly choked on your next bite.

Sunday blinked, brows furrowing slightly. “Careful.”

You coughed, hastily grabbing the cup of water he handed you. Heat crept up your neck, but whether it was from embarrassment or something else, you weren’t sure.

“What’s wrong? Finally realizing how charming I am?”

You shot him a glare. “Don’t push it.”

But he only chuckled, satisfied.

[Favorability +5]

You didn’t see it. The tiny, nearly imperceptible shimmer in the air—like a system notification only meant for him.

“What?” he said. “Did I get more handsome just now, or are you finally acknowledging that I’ve been devastatingly attractive this entire time?”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “You’re seriously fishing for compliments while feeding me?”

“Multi-tasking is an important skill.”

“You’re impossible.”

“And yet,” he plucked another piece of bread from the plate and held it up, smirking, “you’re still letting me feed you.”

You froze, only just realizing it.

You could argue, push him away, reclaim some of your dignity… but you were still hungry. And honestly, this was the first real conversation you’d had since your father passed.

…It was nice.

So instead of answering, you simply huffed and took another bite, avoiding his gaze.

“You know, if I had known all it took was feeding you to make you behave, I would’ve done this ages ago.”

“I take it back. You’re annoying.”

“Too late. You already let me in.”

-----

Sunday should have been pleased.

You were recovering. You were finally eating, standing tall once more, resuming the duties your father left behind. He had worked for this. Stayed by your side through the worst of it. Protected you, fed you, shielded you from the opportunistic nobles who sought to take advantage of your grief.

And now?

Now you were back to work.

And he hated it.

Not because he wanted you to remain weak—no, he would never wish that on you. But because now, he had less control. Before, when you were withdrawn in your chambers, he was the one managing things. The one turning away suitors, handling your food, ensuring your safety without question.

But now?

Now you were surrounded by people. Officials, nobles, potential threats.

And worst of all—

You were talking to them. Laughing with them. Standing too close to them.

Sunday’s fingers twitched as he watched from the shadows of the court hall.

He couldn’t stand this.

His jaw clenched as he watched you tilt your head toward one of your advisors, listening intently to whatever nonsense they were feeding you.

You weren’t even aware of it, were you? How vulnerable you were in moments like these.

What if someone whispered poison into your ear? What if they sought to turn you against him?

His mind spun with all the possibilities—his frustration bubbling just beneath the surface—

And then, a soft chime.

A faint glow only he could see.

𝑺𝒆𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒕 𝑹𝒐𝒖𝒕𝒆 𝑺𝒕𝒂𝒕𝒖𝒔: 𝑼𝒏𝒍𝒐𝒄𝒌𝒆𝒅

Favorability: 40%

40%. It had never been this high before.

But if he had learned anything from playing this game before—

40% wasn’t enough.

Sunday’s mind was already calculating his next move when another chime echoed in his ears.

[System Assistance Available]

His eyes widened slightly. Since when?

Before, the system only interfered when he died. It never offered him anything—no guidance, no tools, nothing. But now?

He focused on the faint glow only he could see, willing the system to respond.

[Query Registered: Assistance Requested]

A loading screen flickered in his vision before a new window appeared.

[Available Items – Secret Route]

Whispering Veil – Conceals the user’s actions from others for a limited time. (1 use)

Falsified Letters – Alters the contents of incoming messages before they reach the recipient. (3 uses)

Echo Crystal – Records and replays conversations to the user. (1 use)

Subtle Influence – Temporarily shifts favorability by +5% in a critical moment. (1 use)

Locking Key – Prevents an individual from leaving a designated area for 12 hours. (1 use)

These were cheats. This world had been working against him for so long, making every step toward you a battle. But now?

Now he had weapons.

The Falsified Letters were already useful. How many proposals had he secretly turned down for you? With these, he wouldn’t have to intercept them—he could alter them entirely.

The Echo Crystal was perfect. He would find out exactly what these scheming nobles were saying to you behind his back.

But the Subtle Influence?

Sunday’s fingers twitched.

A guaranteed +5%?

It took him months to raise your favorability even this much. He could get closer right now.

…But no.

Not yet.

[Item Acquired: Echo Crystal]

Let’s see what these people were really saying.

Sunday gripped the Echo Crystal in his palm, feeling the faint warmth of its magic pulse against his skin.

Slipping out of sight, he activated the crystal. A shimmer of light pulsed from its surface before fading, leaving only a soft hum in his ears.

“We need to act soon.”

Sunday’s eyes narrowed.

The voice was familiar—one of the noble councilmen, Lord Arventis. A well-spoken official who had spent the past weeks pretending to be loyal to you.

Another voice joined in, one that sent a sharp chill through his spine.

Kristiana.

“Y/n's regaining their strength” she murmured. “If we don’t secure their hand in marriage or weaken their standing, soon they'll become untouchable.”

Sunday’s fingers curled tight around the crystal.

These leeches. These pathetic, scheming rats.

They weren’t just trying to manipulate you anymore.

They were planning to seize control.

Sunday exhaled, slipping the crystal into his sleeve as he stepped out from the shadows.

He needed a plan.

And this time?

He wasn’t playing fair.

It took two days.

Two days of watching, listening, gathering proof.

Every word spoken behind your back, every noble secretly conspiring against you—Sunday had it all.

And now?

Now, it was time to remove the pieces from the board.

One by one, carefully, subtly.

The Falsified Letters were the first to be used.

Kristiana? Lord Arventis? The others who sought to control you?

Every letter they sent—every request for a private meeting, every false plea of loyalty—was altered.

You never saw their real words.

Instead, what you received were poorly veiled insults. Demands. Mockery disguised as diplomacy.

Your anger was immediate.

Within hours, you had your court questioning their intentions.

Within a day, Lord Arventis had lost your favor.

And Kristiana?

Her carefully woven web of deception began to unravel.

Sunday watched it all unfold with quiet satisfaction.

When you looked at him that evening, your gaze lingering just a little too long—

Sunday saw it.

That flicker of realization.

That first, fragile crack in your walls. He didn’t need the system to tell him this time. You were finally seeing him.

Sunday had been waiting for the right moment.

The Locking Key wasn’t something to use carelessly. It was a tool meant for control, for ensuring that no one could interfere with what was about to happen.

It happened without warning. The door, which had been perfectly fine just moments ago, let out a soft click.

You frowned, standing up to test the handle, only for it to remain firmly shut. “…Strange.”

Sunday, who had been silently refilling your tea, glanced up in feigned curiosity. “Something wrong?”

You jiggled the handle again. “The door isn’t opening.”

His lips parted in mock surprise. “Oh?”

You turned to face him, your exhaustion making you more irritable than usual. “Did you do something?”

He blinked at you, the perfect picture of innocence. “Why would I lock us in?”

“Then what, the palace just decided to trap me here?”

He hummed in thought. “Maybe it’s fate.”

You shot him a glare, but deep down, you knew there was no use fighting it. You were tired—too tired—and the energy to argue with him simply wasn’t there.

The weight of the past few days had finally caught up to you. The grief, the stress, the endless work… it was pressing down on your chest, your body begging for rest.

Your fingers trembled slightly as you brought them to your temple.

Sunday noticed immediately.

“Sit” he murmured.

You resisted. “I’m fine.”

“You can barely stand.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but before you could, something shifted. A strange warmth settled in your mind—a pull, a quiet lure, almost like… magic. It was subtle, like a whisper, telling you that you should just listen to him. That for once, you could stop fighting.

Your legs moved before you could think.

You collapsed into the nearest seat, but the hard wooden chair was uncomfortable, your body aching as you tried to relax.

Sunday sighed. “You’ll never rest like that.”

He moved forward, taking the empty space beside you—no, not beside. Right behind.

Before you could react, his hands were on your arms, guiding you gently but insistently. “Come here.”

Your breath hitched. “What—”

He pulled you onto his lap.

You should’ve moved. But your exhaustion made you weak, and your body—traitorous, selfish—sank into him instead.

His warmth seeped into your skin, his steady breathing oddly calming as your head rested against his shoulder. His fingers brushed against your wrist before settling at your back in a silent reassurance.

“…Better?” he asked softly.

You hesitated, then—reluctantly—nodded.

“You’re finally listening to me.”

You hated the way your face warmed.

[Favorability +30]

Sunday felt the chime before he saw the number.

Thirty. Thirty?

That was insane.

Nothing he’d done before—no silent loyalty, no favors, no devotion—had ever made your favorability jump this high.

He had expected a modest increase, maybe five or ten points at most. But this?

This was a breakthrough.

His mind raced, replaying every second leading up to this moment. The exhaustion, the quiet lure of his voice, the way you had naturally leaned into him without fighting.

And then it clicked.

You liked skinship.

Or rather, you found comfort in it.

Not that you’d ever admit it, of course. You were still too stubborn, too prideful to say it out loud. But your body?

Your body didn’t lie.

It was something subconscious, something deeply ingrained in you that even you didn’t seem aware of.

All this time, he had been carefully balancing between too much and too little, afraid of pushing his luck. And yet, the answer had been right in front of him—literal physical closeness.

Of course, he couldn’t abuse it recklessly. You were quick to irritation, your temper flaring if someone overstepped.

But if he did it right…

If he played this carefully…

Then he had just unlocked his greatest weapon.

His arms tightened around you slightly, as if testing the waters, but he didn’t push further. For now, he let you rest against him, let you trust him.

And when your breathing evened out, when the tension in your muscles melted completely, Sunday only smiled to himself.

Checkmate.

----

The next morning, when you drowsily shuffled into the dining hall, he was already there, waiting. He handed you a steaming cup of tea, but instead of simply setting it down, he took your hand in his, guiding your fingers around the cup.

[Favorability +5]

A test—and a success.

You barely reacted, too groggy to care. But it worked.

At midday, when you were busy drafting letters and reviewing reports, he appeared by your side with an ink-stained cloth.

Without a word, he took your hand and gently wiped the smudge off your fingers.

You stiffened for a second but didn’t pull away.

[Favorability +7]

And so, the pattern continued.

Each day, a small touch here, a silent act there. Never enough to raise suspicion, never enough to cross a line, but just enough to nudge you closer.

[Favorability +2]

At 84%, you had stopped questioning him.

At 87%, you had stopped fighting it.

And now?

90%.

The notification chimed in his ears.

You still didn’t notice.

But he did.

And now, the only thing left to do…

Was push you past the threshold.

---

Sunday had been playing the game well. He had spent days getting closer, learning your preferences, adjusting his every move to keep you comfortable while steadily increasing your favorability.

But what he didn’t know—what he never could have anticipated—was that the more you grew attached to him…

The more possessive you became.

It wasn’t obvious at first. A lingering glance here, an oddly fixated stare there.

Then it got worse.

And today?

Today, you were seething.

You stared at Sunday across the dining table, your fingers gripping the silverware a little too tightly as you cut into your meal.

He was being too calm.

Like he had nothing to be guilty for.

“So.”

Sunday barely looked up from his plate. “So?”

“I heard you were with the maid today.”

He paused for a fraction of a second before responding. “…I was.”

That made your grip tighten.

You placed your utensils down with a little too much force. “You were seen with her at the market.”

His brows furrowed slightly, but his expression remained composed. “She was just getting supplies. I needed to ask about—”

“Flowers?” you cut in, your tone sharp.

His lips parted in realization. “…You’re upset.”

“I’m not upset,” you lied. “I’m simply asking why my personal servant was out shopping for flowers with another woman.”

Sunday stared at you, and for the first time in a long time, you saw the faintest flicker of uncertainty in his gaze.

You weren’t supposed to be like this.

You weren’t supposed to care.

But you did.

Because the way you felt at that moment—the way your blood boiled at the idea of him entertaining someone else, at the thought of him being kind to someone that wasn’t you—it was irrational. Terrifyingly so.

“…You think I was flirting?”

“Wasn’t it?”

Something flickered in his gaze before he let out a small breath. Then, he placed his utensils down and leaned forward.

“Look at me.”

“If I wanted to flirt, don’t you think you’d be the first to know?”

You should have let it go.

You should have brushed it off, laughed, changed the subject.

But instead, you found yourself gripping the edge of the table, voice quiet but trembling with something unfamiliar. “…Then don’t do it.”

Sunday’s smirk faltered.

For the first time, he saw it.

The hint of something deeper in your eyes.

This wasn’t just a favorability boost anymore.

This was dangerous.

And for the first time…

He wasn’t sure who was hunting who.

[Favorability: 96%] → [Favorability: 94%]

Why?

He had been so careful, every action calculated, every touch measured. You were supposed to be getting closer, not slipping away.

Just as he was about to summon the system, a knock echoed through his room, followed by the soft creak of the door opening.

“Who were you talking to?”

For a split second, panic clawed at his chest, but he forced himself to relax, plastering on his usual lazy smirk.

“Talking? I was just thinking out loud.” He leaned back, stretching as if nothing was wrong. “Why? Miss me already?”

Your eyes didn’t waver.

“…Let’s go for a walk.”

Sunday blinked. “…A walk?”

You nodded, stepping further inside. “You’ve been inside all day, haven’t you? A change of atmosphere would be good.”

His mind raced. He needed answers from the system—but with you watching him like a hawk, there was no way he could summon it now.

“…Fine.” He stood, brushing himself off. “But if this is some elaborate scheme to make me carry all your shopping bags, I’ll protest.”

You scoffed. “As if I’d waste your time with something so trivial.”

(But if it meant keeping you outside longer, he wouldn’t have minded.)

The air was cool, a soft breeze brushing against the streets as you and Sunday wandered through the bustling town. You had led him to a small ice cream stand, insisting that since it was his first time out in a while, he should try something sweet.

Sunday wasn’t really one for desserts, but the moment he saw the way your eyes lit up as you tasted yours, he found himself taking a bite of his own without complaint.

“What do you think?”

Sunday tapped his chin, pretending to ponder. “Hmm… tastes better than I expected.”

You rolled your eyes. “You could just say you like it, you know.”

“And give you the satisfaction of being right?” He smirked. “Never.”

You huffed, taking another bite of your own, and he had to force himself to look away before he stared too long.

Then, it happened.

You took a step forward—and slipped.

Sunday’s body reacted before he could think.

In an instant, his arm snaked around your waist, pulling you against him just before you could hit the ground.

The ice cream you had been holding slipped from your grip, landing pathetically on the pavement, but neither of you reacted to it.

Because at that moment, you were way too close.

Your face was inches from his, your breath warm against his skin.

Your hands had instinctively grabbed onto his chest, fingers curling slightly into the fabric. You weren’t moving away.

[Favorability +3]

“…You okay?”

Sunday swallowed, forcing himself to breathe.

He was the one who caught you—so why did it feel like he was the one about to fall?

Sunday wasn’t sure how long he held you like that.

Seconds? Minutes?

It didn’t matter.

Because all he could focus on was the warmth of your body against his, the way your breath hitched slightly as you realized how close you were.

Your hands were still resting against his chest, fingers lightly curled into the fabric of his clothes. His arm, firm and unmoving, remained around your waist, securing you in place.

For a moment, neither of you moved.

“…Are you going to let me go?”

“Do you want me to?”

Your lips parted slightly, your gaze flickering down to where his fingers pressed into your side, then back up to his eyes.

You didn’t answer.

And he didn’t need you to.

His other hand lifted instinctively, brushing a loose strand of hair from your face.

Sunday had spent so long trying to read you, to predict your reactions, to find ways to win you over. But right now?

You were looking at him like you were the one figuring him out.

Slowly, your hand slid up from his chest to rest lightly against his collarbone. The touch was hesitant but intentional.

You weren’t pushing him away.

If anything, you were leaning in.

His grip around you tightened slightly as his gaze flickered to your lips. He could kiss you right now.

And then—

“Ah! Your Grace!”

Both of you froze.

Sunday barely had time to react before someone practically materialized beside you, bowing so quickly they almost fell over.

“It’s an honor to see you again! Thank you for your generosity the other day—our village has been thriving because of your kindness!”

Your entire body went rigid.

Sunday could feel the way your muscles tensed, your hands jerking away from him like you had just realized what was happening.

The warmth disappeared.

And just like that, the moment was gone.

You coughed, taking an awkward step back. “Ah, yes. Of course. I’m…glad to hear that.”

Sunday clenched his jaw, forcing himself to exhale slowly.

He turned his head slightly—only to see you blushing.

Not just a small, embarrassed flush—a full-on, heated, flustered mess.

Sunday blinked.

You? Blushing? Over him?

His heart nearly stopped.

And that was before he felt the warmth creeping up his own neck.

His ears burned.

You glanced at him briefly, eyes darting away almost immediately when you realized he was already looking at you.

Sunday almost cursed out loud. Instead, he cleared his throat, shoving his hands into his pockets to keep them from grabbing you again. “…We should keep walking.”

You nodded way too fast. “Y-Yeah. Let’s go.”

The villager beamed, bowing once more before stepping aside.

And as the two of you walked off—still visibly flustered, still awkwardly avoiding each other’s gaze—Sunday let out a small breath.

Maybe that damn favorability bar was a nightmare to raise.

But right now?

He didn’t even need to check it to know that something between you had changed.

Sunday woke up with an immediate sense of wrongness.

For one—his arms didn’t move.

For two—his legs didn’t move.

For three—you were straddling him.

He blinked, slowly coming to terms with his predicament. His wrists were tied to the bedposts. His ankles were similarly restrained. And above him, sitting comfortably atop his waist, you were smirking down at him.

“…I must still be dreaming”

You chuckled. “Oh, you’re awake? That’s good. I was starting to think you were just pretending.”

Sunday squinted at you. “Why. Am I. Tied up.”

You shrugged, tilting your head in mock innocence. “I thought I’d do something different today. Y’know, entertain you.”

His lips parted, a dumbfounded expression flickering over his face.

Entertain him.

He was seconds away from losing his mind.

Your fingers drummed along his chest, your weight warm and solid against him. “You seem awfully close with the maids these days. I thought perhaps… I should remind you where your loyalties lie.”

Sunday stared.

“Excuse me?”

You smiled, leaning in slightly.

The warmth of your breath tickled his cheek. “You’ve been talking a lot with them, haven’t you?”

You were jealous.

The realization slammed into him like a freight train.

The hours he had spent gathering information—asking the maids about your favorite foods, your daily habits, your preferences—had backfired spectacularly.

And now here you were, pinning him to his own damn bed.

Sunday had never, in all his life, imagined the ‘Impossible Route’ would turn out like this.

You leaned in even closer, lips dangerously near his ear. “…You should be more careful. People might think you’re plotting something.”

His jaw clenched.

His heartbeat thundered.

You knew exactly what you were doing.

And you were enjoying every second of it.

Sunday inhaled deeply, forcing himself to remain calm. “Alright. You’ve had your fun. Now untie me.”

You hummed in thought, fingers lazily tracing the outline of his collarbone. “Mmm… I don’t know. I think I like you like this.”

Sunday's patience snapped.

In one swift motion, he flexed his wrists and ripped free of the bindings.

Before you could react, Sunday flipped you over, pinning you beneath him.

Your back hit the mattress, your wrists caught in his grip. The tables had turned.

“My turn.”

You barely had time to blink before he leaned down—and stole your lips.

Your mind went blank.

Sunday pulled back just enough to see the dazed look in your eyes, his lips still hovering over yours.

“Next time you try to trap me” he murmured, “make sure I can’t escape.”

And then—

The door swung open.

“…Oh.”

Sunday didn’t move.

You didn’t move.

The servant froze in place.

A long, suffocating silence filled the room.

“…Should I come back later?”

You shoved Sunday off of you so hard he nearly fell off the bed.

“GET OUT.”

The servant practically tripped over themselves trying to flee.

The door slammed shut.

You and Sunday sat there for a moment, staring at each other.

Your face? Completely red.

Sunday, meanwhile, simply grinned.

“You’re cute when you’re flustered.”

“SHUT UP.”

You avoided him for the rest of the day.

Which, really, was adorable.

Every time Sunday entered a room, you’d suddenly be very interested in a random document or an irrelevant piece of decor. The moment his eyes met yours? Immediate retreat. He’d never seen you so utterly defeated before—it was addicting.

And that blush? That frustrated, completely flustered look?

He wanted to see more of it.

You tried to act like nothing had happened the next morning. You sat at your usual spot, drinking tea as if the past twenty-four hours hadn’t completely obliterated your composure.

Sunday casually poured himself a cup and sat across from you, resting his chin in his palm.

“So.” He smirked. “That was quite the reaction yesterday.”

You choked on your tea.

Coughing violently, you shot him a glare. “Shut up.”

“You’re not denying it?”

Finally, you set your cup down with a soft clink and exhaled sharply.

“…Fine.” You looked at him, shoulders squared, lips pressed into a thin line. “I admit it. I lost that round.”

“Round?”

“Oh, don’t play dumb.”

His grin widened. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “…You’re insufferable.”

“And yet, here I am. Still by your side.”

You faltered. Your fingers curled slightly, as if hesitant to say what you were thinking. Sunday watched as you took a slow breath, steadying yourself.

Then, with clear reluctance, you muttered—

“…I suppose I don’t mind.”

He almost forgot how to breathe.

You weren’t looking at him, too focused on the way your tea swirled in your cup. But Sunday could see it—the faintest hint of a smile on your lips. The soft flush still lingering on your ears.

[Favorability: 100%]

His heart skipped a beat.

You finally looked back at him, eyebrow raised. “Why are you staring?”

Sunday blinked. He schooled his expression just in time, lips curling into his usual smirk.

“…No reason.”

But inside?

Inside, he knew.

He had won.

And he would never let you go.

[yasministration]

Unsteady desk chairs - Ron Weasley

summary: when ron's been locked in his dorm trying to finish an essay all afternoon, you decide to help motivate him a little cw: SMUT, established relationship, unlocked door 1.2k+ wc

You'd been sitting with Hermione in the common room after having finished all your work, waiting for Harry and Ron to come down from their dorm and join you downstairs, making mental notes of the silly stories you had to tell them. You furrowed your eyebrows when you checked the clock again, noticing how late in the afternoon it was becoming. Leaving Hermione to check on your boyfriend, you began walking up to his dorm when Harry suddenly came running down the staircase in his Quidditch uniform, carrying his broom in one hand and yelling "I'm so late to practice!" A laugh bubbled in your chest as you continued trekking to the right dorm.

You waited for Ron's call to come in after knocking twice on the door, cracking the door open slightly to see him crouched over his desk, completely still while whispering things to himself under his breath. You stalked over him, careful not to make any noise before sighing at the sight. He was absolutely precious, unusually stressing himself over his care of magical creatures essay.

Wrapping your arms over Ron's shoulders behind his spot at his desk, you pressed fluttering kisses all over his cheeks and the side of his neck. The boy groaned, leaning his head back to allow you more space as he shut his eyes tightly, taking a short break from his homework. "Baby I don't get it." He whined, rubbing his eyes tiredly. You ran a hand through his messy fiery hair, pressing another kiss on Ron's temple before he was twisting in his chair to wrap an arm around your waist, guiding you around his chair so you could stand next to him. Shifting his chair backwards slightly, Ron tugged you to the space between his legs.

Resuming your soft massage on Ron's hair, you hummed slightly as he rested his hands on the back of your thighs, head leaning forward against your stomach. "What are you struggling with sweetheart?" "Everything. I don't get this stupid essay." He complained again, pulling you impossibly closer to him. "D'you need help? I finished mine not long ago." Ron shook his head against you, looking up at you with a pouty face. "This is something I need to do alone." You giggled slightly, leaning down to peck his lips quickly. Ron chased your lips the second you pulled away, trying to pull you back in. You smiled against his lips when they finally found yours, pulling away to laugh happily.

Your arms slung over Ron's shoulders squeezed him closer to you, letting him hug you as tightly as he wished. Ron moaned in annoyance against your jumper, and you grinned, an idea popping into your head. "Hey, bet you could some motivating though." Curiously, Ron's face was peeking up to look at yours, a pink tint forming on his cheeks. "Yeah, what kind of motivation?" You leaned in once again, lips barely touching his, moving your hands down to Ron's thighs. His muscles flexed under your touch, and he swallowed thickly, hands coming down to rest atop yours.

"I think you have a good idea of that." Ron was pulling you onto his lap before the words even left your mouth, hands positioning your legs so you straddled him, the both of you barely fitting on the desk chair. Your knees were uncomfortably tucked into the space below the arms of the chair, digging into the leather. Cupping Ron's jaw, you kissed him slowly, pulling back every time he tried speeding up the kiss, breathing heavily into your mouth. You giggled, lightly biting his bottom lip before retreating and unbuckling his thick belt. Ron's fingers wandered underneath your skirt, pushing your panties to the side while you freed him from his boxers. He watched intensely as you spat on your hand before stroking his length, waiting for him to fully harden before guiding his cock towards your hole.

Lifting your hips up to push his tip into you, you sunk down on his cock slowly, biting your bottom lip to suppress a loud moan. "Fuck. Should've locked the door." You muttered, digging your head into the crook of Ron's neck while you adjusted to his size, feeling his chest vibrate with a chuckle. Slowly beginning to lift your hips up, you gained momentum to bounce on your boyfriend's dick. Ron met your movements, snapping his hips upwards to meet your thrusts, hands loosely holding your waist just in case you lost your balance. Ron shut his eyes, taking pleasure in the feeling of your cunt against every ridge of his cock. You gasped, reaching a hand out to grab the back of the unsteady chair as a wave of pleasure shot through you, panting loudly.

One of Ron's hands left your waist, finding a path under the untucked shirt of your uniform to grope at your breast, tweaking your nipple to harden the sensitive nub. You arched your back towards his chest, cursing as you leaned down to suck on the soft skin of Ron's neck - a desperate attempt to silence your cries. The burn in your thighs paired with the uncomfortable pinch of the warm leather on your pace had you readjusting yourself above your boyfriend before recommencing your movements, only slower. Ron groaned as you began grinding down on his cock, wrapping his arms around your waist and tugging your body into his chest, where you leant your head on his shoulder, stilling your movements.

A sharp thrust of his hips up into your core had you whining, nails digging into the sides of his shoulders as he jerked himself into you with a fast pace. You bounced upwards with every snap of Ron's hips, but he hugged you close to him, only making you brush against his chest. Taking the easy access to Ron's neck, you resumed your kisses there, biting and sucking occasionally to leave red hickeys in their wake. Licking over a spot below his ear you just kissed, you firmly bit down, leaving a stinging pain in Ron's neck. Your boyfriend gasped at the sudden sear, harshly forcing his hips upwards into you with a loud "Fuck!" Your high pitched moan filled the room, your cunt clamping down again Ron's cock as you reached your high. A string of curse words left Ron's mouth as his hips uncontrollably twitched, releasing his orgasm into you while his arms squeezed you tighter against him.

Breathing heavily, you bit your lip to try and suppress your moan as Ron shuddered against you, urging his arms to loosen up against you so you could breathe. "Oh my god." You panted, grabbing the desk behind you to help you stand up as Ron's arms fell to his side, slumping against the chair. "Shit, baby." He mumbled as his hand reached out to shove your skirt up, watching his cum dribbled down your thighs. You separated your legs in discomfort, bending down to take your soiled panties off before placing it on Ron's desk, leaning your hips against it while you scanned his working space.

"I'm gonna go clean myself off and read a book in my dorm. Come find me when you're done with this essay." Ron nodded, dumbfounded, accepting the short kiss you gave him before strutting away, slowly reaching out for the panties on his desk to shove them in his pocket and zip his pants back up.

[retrosabers]

𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬.

*relationship hcs written with fem!reader in mind*

contains: a little bit of everything. some relationship fluff, a bit of angst (mentions of death and past trauma), very flirty and filthy logan, 18+ CONTENT AT THE BOTTOM. MINORS DNI (body worship, praise kink, pain kink, dirty talk to the nines.)

word count: 1.5k

a/n: not me posting something for the first time in a) over a month and b) in 2025 😍😍

it’s been ROUGH in the brain and writing department for me, and this is the best i could come up with right now. i hope i can get back in my real groove soon, i miss writing real bad.

in the mean time, please enjoy my wolvie brain dump. feel free to share any of your own personal hcs in the comments or reblogs!!

GENERAL/PERSONALITY:

he’s secret tea drinker. always drinks coffee (no cream no sugar; nasty ass) in the morning but also drinks tea at night. though nothing can fully calm him down in the evening, the tea does relax him in some capacity, and logan takes whatever reprieve he can get. plus it was one of the first things you started doing together, so it’s become a part of his routine he can’t be without.

typically the first person up, and the last person in bed. you’d think logan wouldn’t be a morning person, but he’s surprisingly at ease in the early hours. as relaxed as someone like him could get, anyways.

likes to read a lot. he was in complete awe of the mansion’s library the first time he saw it. will often sneak in when no one’s around and read for an hour or two by the window if he’s got the time. when you discover he’s a secret bookworm, you start to leave a book on his desk that you think he’ll enjoy every once in a while. it’s a small gesture logan holds very near and dear to his heart.

can’t remember people’s birthdays or important dates to save his life BUT can recall something minor in a fleeting conversation from a long time ago. also remembers very random useless facts that have actually come in handy on more than one occasion.

if and when logan sleeps, he snores. so. fucking. LOUD, to the point where it can wake people up depending on how close quarters are. he denies it constantly.

likes to make sure his deodorant and cologne have the same general scent (i just know he smells like a sexy ass manly man URGH).

a lot of people hc him as a history professor but i have a hot take: gym teacher logan. not in the typical “let’s run laps and play dodgeball” way, but in the sense that he teaches the kids how to control and utilize their mutations to their advantage (with help from the rest of the xmen of course), and maybe even some light sparring to practice self defense. i personally just don’t see the history teacher thing working out because i fear he would subconsciously be reliving a LOT of trauma.

gets really anxious whenever someone is sick or injured. he’s been gravely reminded before that not everyone is indestructible like he is, and it scares him to see others get hurt in any capacity, because he’s terrified of losing them. the first time you get seriously wounded on a mission? logan damn near wears his boots down to the sole from pacing back and forth outside the medbay so much. he can’t eat, he can’t sleep, he can’t focus on anything other than you. time stops for him; and won’t resume until he’s certain you’re going to be okay.

legitimately purrs like a cat if you scratch his head just the right way. he will once again deny this until the end of time, but with less resistance and a much more flushed complexion.

“whatever,” he mumbles into your stomach, while guiding your nails back to his scalp.

hates ANY music made after the year 2000, but anything before that he’s pretty keen on. he’s got his preferences for sure (a little country, some rock, and maybe a bit of bluegrass), but isn’t above admitting that a pop tune is a little catchy from time to time.

IN A RELATIONSHIP:

you better not even THINK about ever opening a door for yourself ever again because if you do he’s taking personal offense to it.

he may be a slut in the sheets but he’s a near perfect gentlemen in the streets. i’m talking walking on the outside of the sidewalk at all times, always helping you out of the car even if you don’t need it, carrying your jacket or shoes after a night out, making sure you’re obscured from view if you need to adjust a revealing top; any chivalrous boyfriend thing you can think of, and he’s done it. with suaveness, might i add.

“here honey, gimme that, i got it.”

“hold on a second sweetheart, your strap’s all twisted.”

the definition of “you fell first but he fell harder.”

makes it a point to take you on a “real date” outside the mansion once or twice a month because he knows how much you enjoy getting dressed up for different occasions. whether that be dinner, dancing (yes, if you beg hard enough he’ll go dancing with you), and maybe even a trip to the museum or planetarium.

both the big and little spoon, it depends on the day, but he’s an insane cuddler either way. a human teddy bear for you and only you. this? he won’t deny, not for a second. and he’ll tell anyone who cares to tease him about it to fuck off.

always touching you in some capacity. a gentle caress on the back of your neck, or cold palms sliding underneath your sweater, logan has no qualms about being a bit handsy.

“if your girl looked like this, you wouldn’t be able to keep your hands off her either.”

his favorite (and yours too secretly) is a hand in the back pocket of your jeans. there’s something equally sweet and sultry about it that makes your stomach flutter every time. a slightly possessive gesture, that when coupled with a cocky smirk and a shameless squeeze, never fails to drive you wild.

you thought he was a worry wart about your safety before you were dating? it amplifies by a million when you’re together, almost to the point of annoyance because he’s adamant on not letting you out of his sight. eventually after a few arguments and a scolding from charles, you remind him that you’re perfectly capable of handling things on your own, and yes, sometimes he does need to look out for you, just in case.

SMUT:

handsy logan = body worship logan. this man will make it his life mission to appreciate every single inch of your body. he doesn’t care if you’re tangled in between sheets for hours on end. you’re not leaving the bed until you know just how much he’s smitten with every part of you.

pain kink king who will cum significantly faster if you break skin with your nails raking down arms or back. gets an immediate hard on when you slap him in the middle of a dangerously intense argument, and implores you to do it again in a dark, lust driven tone.

to make up for the fact that you can’t mark your territory, with logan’s regenerative capabilities and all, he goes above and beyond to mark his. this man leaves hickies everywhere, and i mean everywhere. your hip bones, your navel, damn near the entirety of your sternum, your neck essentially a human canvas that he gladly paints in brilliant hues of lavender.

he may be a man of few words with most, but with you? logan can never shut the fuck up about how good you make him feel.

“look at you. doin’ so good for me honey.” “y’feel like fuckin’ heaven, you know that?” “my perfect girl. made just for me.”

cannot handle when you return the favor. immediately shoves his flushed face into whatever part of your body he can find and picks up the pace. praise is another surefire way to get logan to blow his load in record time. he thinks it’s a little embarrassing but you think it’s SO HOT.

loves a good tummy bulge OOP who said that

really enjoys sex in the shower or bath. there’s an additional layer of intimacy with it that makes logan particularly warm in the chest. will often suggest round two in the bathroom so he not only has the pleasure of ruining you again, but helping gently put you back together with a tenderness reserved only for you.

the ceo of teasing. loves to watch you get all flustered and squirmy so you best believe he’s teasing the fuck out of you any chance he gets. logan’s got wandering hands and a filthy mouth and that he uses to his advantage both in and out of the bedroom.

“what if i bent you over this desk, right here right now, hm? would you like that?”

“your skirt’s real pretty baby. think it would look a lot better on the floor of my room.”

“been thinkin’ about you all day. gonna let me fuck you real good later?”

aftercare is a learning curve. he’s not completely careless the first time you have sex, but he’s not as caring and attentive as he knows he probably should be. logan was used to quick one night stands, not getting intimate with someone he had romantic feelings for. once he realizes how in-deep he is with you, he takes the time to learn the ins and outs of true aftercare.

* for more smut headcanons, check out my logan nsfw alphabet here*

thanks for reading! <3

[karinab00bs]

Vacation

Karina x named reader

tags: smut, first crush, swearing, pool sex, rough sex, blow jobs, teasing, flirting, dirty talks, dirty jokes, dirty thoughts, hair-pulling, biting, begging

Karina hadn’t anticipated the long journey to visit her parents, who lived quite a distance away from her current work and living situation. However, seizing the opportunity of a rare two-week break, she arrived at their doorstep, suitcase in hand, greeted by the warm sun above. The familiarity of her childhood home flooded back as she climbed out of the taxi.

Deciding against informing her parents of her arrival, Karina didn’t want to inconvenience them if her holiday plans fell through last minute.

Her father's joyful face upon opening the door made the trip instantly worth it, enveloping her in a bear hug and leading her inside.

"Why didn’t you tell us you were coming!?" he exclaimed happily, guiding her to the kitchen where her mother was busy cooking.

Their much-awaited reunion was interrupted by a knock at the door just as they settled down for dinner.

“I’ll get it,” her mother insisted, giving Karina a quick squeeze before heading to the door.

“So pumpkin,” her father started, looking a bit disappointed, unable to resist using the old nickname.

“Your mother and I had booked to go away tomorrow, for our anniversary. But if you want us to cancel, we will,” he offered, but Karina quickly stopped him, not wanting them to change their plans for her.

“Don’t you dare cancel that! We can celebrate when you guys get back. I do have two weeks off,” she reassured her dad, who visibly relaxed.

Before he could respond, her mother returned with a man Karina didn't recognize at first. Then it hit her, that is her childhood friend.

“Karina, honey, you remember Ethan,” her mother smiled, introducing Ethan as he stepped forward, all charm and green eyes.

Suppressing her smile, Karina shook his hand, noticing the size of his hands with a silent observation. “Ethan Lee, right?”

“Right,” he confirmed, maintaining his hold on her hand. She watched as his tongue swiped across his lips, unable to look away.

Finally releasing her hand, Ethan cleared his throat and turned his attention to her father. “I was just coming over to ask if you wouldn’t mind me doing the pool tomorrow, rather than next week,” he asked respectfully. As Karina’s mother handed him a drink, he thanked her before returning his gaze to her father.

“Of course. Is everything okay?” her father inquired, still engrossed in his meal as Karina resumed her seat, observing the exchange.

“Yes, sir. Just made some plans for Sammy’s birthday; he’s back in town for the next few months,” Ethan explained proudly, giving her a subtle wink as he caught her watching him.

“Yes, all fine with me, but we won’t be here so you’ll be dealing with Karina here,” her dad remarked with a roll of his eyes. Karina playfully slapped his arm when he chuckled, unable to suppress the nostalgic smile that crept onto her lips. His deep chuckle reminded her of her childhood.

“I’m sure I can handle her,” Ethan grinned directly at her, while her mother distracted her father.

“We’ll see, Lee,” Karina smirked, swiftly changing the subject to avoid losing her composure.

”So, how is Sam anyway?” Karina inquired, turning in her seat to look up at him where he stood.

“He’s good, not so little anymore. Got a fiance and he’s a lawyer,” Ethan informed her proudly as she stood by the kitchen counter, refilling her drink.

“Always thought the two of you would end up together,” Ethan revealed, completely confusing her.

Hearing her mother laugh, Karina's eyes widened. “Oh no, this one here had a thing for his b-” her mother stopped abruptly, noticing Karina's flushed face and the way she was looking at her.

Before her mother could say anything else that Karina would regret ever telling her, she led Ethan to the front door, he laughed, willingly following her. That is until they reached the door frame; he stopped, turning to look down at her.

“So best friend, or big brother?” he smirked, his green eyes practically sparkling. Karina thought to herself, cocky son of a bitch.

“See you tomorrow, pool boy.”

“Are you gonna come keep me company, while I do a favor for your parents?” he asked cheekily, throwing an arm above his head to lean against the door frame.

“I might,” Karina shrugged off her answer, wishing that he didn’t still have this insane effect on her after all of these years, but she tried not to let him get to her.

“Wait, you mean that’s not your only job?” Karina asked mockingly. Ethan smirked when she stepped closer, shaking his head at her.

“Nope,” he winked, popping the 'p'.

“My job, my real job, involves me getting a lot dirtier,” he revealed, licking his lips when he noticed her staring. She swallowed the lump in her throat, feeling the heat of his chest against hers.

“I’m a mechanic, sweetheart,” he added at her confused expression, and okay god, it got worse.

“R-Right, yeah. Makes sense,” she stuttered, and there were the nerves she remembered so well.

“So, I’ll see you tomorrow then, sugar.”

“Yeah, sure,” Karina replied quietly, watching him walk away. He headed over to the car parked in the drive, the one that used to be his dad's.

Closing the door, Karina turned to find her mother behind her, quickly noticing just how sheepish she looked.

“I’m so sorry, baby! I completely forgot!” her mother rushed to explain, and all Karina could do was laugh it off.

“Stop it! I swear, it’s all fine! A little embarrassing admittedly, but still, it’s okay,” she assured her, pulling her into a hug. Her mother quickly relaxed against her, wrapping her in her arms.

She pulled back with a watery smile.

“I’m so glad you’re back, baby, we really missed you,” smiling, she cupped Karina's cheeks, like she was trying to memorize her face.

“I know, mom, let’s go eat.”

The night passed quickly, talk of the old days and how Karina was considering coming back home. Before she knew it, she was waving them away, watching the taxi disappear.

She looked at the time, swearing under her breath. Her dad had told her Ethan would be over in the next hour, and she really wanted a bath before he got here.

Taking a longer bath than she meant to, Karina left herself only ten minutes to slip into her new red bikini and shorts.

It was so hot outside, and she was determined to drive him crazy. He wanted to be all sexy; two could play at that game. She’d put up with it enough when she was younger, having a somewhat filthy crush on her best friend’s big brother was definitely not ideal.

She just about heard the knock at the door, which was quickly followed by the unmistakable noise of the doorbell. Heading downstairs after a quick glance in the mirror, taking a deep breath, she opened the door.

“Mornin’ Karina,” he winked, giving her an appreciative once over before walking past her into the house.

Closing the door behind him, Karina frowned.

“Really, Ethan, jeans? You are cleaning the pool, right? So why not wear shorts?” she questioned as she followed him into the back garden.

“I don’t do shorts, sweetheart. Why? Do you wanna see some more skin or somethin’?” he asked suggestively, unlocking the shed to get the things he needed. She didn’t see his face, but she was sure he was smirking to himself.

She scoffed at him, moving aside as he began pulling things out of the shed.

“No. I just wondered, it’s so damn hot today. Seems kinda odd weather for that,” she stated, nodding at his attire, brushing it off as easily as she could.

“Well, something is definitely hot” he grins, eyeing her shamelessly as he pulls off his shirt, hanging it on the back of the chair. “There, better?” he asks knowingly, a smug look on his face when Karina choke back a moan, almost swallowing her own tongue.

He doesn’t wait for an answer as he locks the shed door, leaving her to stare at his back.

The sunlight bounces off his tanned skin as he walks over to the pool with the equipment, and Karina realise that she never seen someone with so many muscles in their back. She can just imagine dragging your nails down it as he–

Karina manage to stop that train of thought before it gets out of hand. But she can’t stop herself from watching the very slight swing of his hips, how those jeans fit so snugly against his toned ass and legs, sitting perfectly on his hips.

All she can do is watch him walk away. Safe to say he gives as good as he gets.

Slightly bewildered, Karina follow him after a moment longer of staring, taking her seat on the sun lounger by the pool. She watch him work closely, seeing those muscles visibly rolling under his skin. He seems to be biting on his tongue as he concentrates on the job at hand. Something particularly stubborn makes his jaw tense.

Karina slip out of your shorts easily, letting them fall to the floor, she lay back, deciding to at least try and relax while Ethan works.

It wasn’t like she could stare at him all day, right?

A little while passes, the sun beating down on her is much needed. However, Karina’s sunbathing is interrupted by a large shadow, which completely blankets her body. Shielding her eyes from the sun with her hand you open them, quickly meeting Ethan’s.

“You should probably put this on sweetheart.” He instructs firmly, holding out the sun cream to her.

Karina can’t help but notice the sweat that coats his skin, glistening in the sun, she pause reaching for the bottle with an idea in mind.

“Is that an offer, Lee?” Karina question sweetly as possible, crossing her legs at the knees as she run her fingers from the top of her thigh to her knee, acutely aware of the way his eyes are taking in her body.

He shrugs with a smug look on his face, “Sure, we can’t have you burning can we,”

Karina hum in approval rolling onto her front, she rest her head on her folded arms. Turning her head to watch as Ethan's kneels beside you.

“Such a gentleman.” Karina reply sarcastically, smiling against her arm when he chuckles.

The second his cream covered warm hands touch her skin goosebumps cover her body, she bite back a moan, a little unsuccessfully when his thumbs press into the muscles of her shoulders and around her shoulder blades. Pushing under the strap of Karina’s bikini top, where he’s so close to brushing the sides of her breasts.

Ethan's hands are so big, as they rub the cream into Karina’s skin it doesn’t take him long to reach the bottom of her spine.

Karina arch back into his touch even more, when his thumbs push just under the top of her swimming bottoms, fingers curling around the front of her hips, digging in but not quite the same way. After a few minutes he continues down her body, his touch remaining firm as he quickly does just under Karina’s ass cheeks. Spreading her legs a little as his hands move down her thighs, the perfect amount of pressure against every muscle.

Karina knows that she’s wet, this is without doubt the best massage she’s ever had and very unexpected, god she hope he can’t see it.

“Fuck.” Karina hear him grit out quietly, as his hands move down her calves.

Gently he taps Karina's ankle and clears his throat.

“Turn over, I’ll do the front.” Ethan rasps out, voice breaking a little with each word.

Swallowing hard, Karina as nervous as hell, but there is no way she's backing out now. He’d started this, she's weren’t about to stop him if he wanted to finish it.

Closing her eyes she turn onto her back, shielding her eyes with her arm.

Ethan starts on Karina's legs, the higher his hands get, the more her muscles tense and her pussy starts to flutter. His hands run along the line of her swimming pants, right in the crease of her groin.

The moan that slips past Karina's lips couldn’t have been stopped if she'd tried, she feel the wood creak beneath her as Ethan climbs between her legs on the sun lounger. His calloused hands rubbing cream into Karina’s stomach, fingertips slipping beneath the cups of her bikini top, running along the underside of her breasts.

Ethan leans over her further, and Karina feel his hard cock brush against her thigh as he takes her arms, rubbing the cream in. Karina finally dare to blink open her eyes, the wild beating of her heart and the blood rushing in her ears are unbearable.

Biting into her lip when her eyes meet his again, Karina watch him squirt more cream onto his palms, before placing the bottle on the table.

Ethan's hands move over Karina's chest slowly, pushing the straps down her shoulders, she tilt her head back when he rubs the cream into her neck, his hand resting on her throat as he leans in closer.

“Ain’t even been swimmin’ yet and your panties are soaked.” Ethan groans, moving in closer still, but she stop him before he gets too close, resting her hand on his bare chest.

Pushing him back gently, watching the way he sits back on his feet, eyes completely focused on her as she sit up. Karina slip out from beneath him, smiling at the look on his face.

“Better make sure you’ve done your job properly.” Karina smile seductively, loving the way he watches her as she make her way over to the pool.

When Karina reach the steps she turn to find him standing from the sun lounger. Clearing his throat he rearranges himself in his jeans, but the thick line of his cock is still clearly visible, he quickly focuses those green eyes back on her.

“You coming, pool boy?” Karina ask cheekily, as she lower yourself into the cool water, watching the smirk that appears on his plump lips.

“You remember that I’m older than you, right? More like the pool man,” Ethan quips, undoing his belt and leather slaps against leather. Leaning against the pool’s edge as Karina's chin resting on her arms and she look up at him.

Just in time to watch him pop the button of his jeans and pull down the zipper.

“Guess you’ve got me there. So, since you don’t like shorts, are you wearing boxers?” Karina ask curiously, trying but failing to hide her smile.

Ethan laughs at that, dropping his jeans and pulling them off his legs, “Normally you would’ve been right, but on this occasion” he leaves the reply hanging in the air. Letting Karina's eyes drop with his jeans, she couldn’t even be disappointed that he was still wearing boxers. Not since the sizeable bulge was still very much present and accounted for, even more visible in the thin fabric.

Sitting down on the side of the pool Ethan's legs dangle in the water, his ass right on the very edge. Karina swimming over to him and stand between his open legs. Looking up at his face as she rest her hands on his thick thighs.

“So what’s the verdict sweetheart, did I do a good enough job?” Ethan questions leaning back on his hands, grunting in surprise when Karina’s breasts brush against the bulge in Ethan pants.

“Not too bad, for a part timer.” Karina giggle watching the comical eye roll he gives her. The image of him in overalls and covered in grease hits her. Karina almost certain he would look even better dirty than he does clean, which is saying something.

“I wouldn’t mind seeing just how good you are at your real job though, see how dirty you get.” Karina reveal, chewing on her bottom lip as her hands slip into the legs of Ethan boxers. Ethan hisses at the sting of the pain, when her nails sink into the tops of his thighs, his rock hard length laying untouched between them.

“You should come down the garage some time, I’ll show you just how dirty I get” Ethan grunts through gritted teeth.

Licking her lips, Karina hum appreciatively, “I’d really like that.” She admit, dragging her nails back down Ethan's thighs, feeling his muscles tense beneath her touch. Leaning up against the pool’s side on her elbows, Karina tuck her fingers into the sides of his boxer shorts.

Ethan seems to be nervous as he looks around the garden, like he’s expecting someone to pop out.

“Everything okay, Ethan? You look nervous.” Karina acknowledge cheekily, as he debates lifting his ass for literally a second, seeming to ignore any doubts he has he finally lets her tug the boxers down, over his ass and down those strong bow legs.

Karina watch Ethan's Adam’s apple bob in his throat as he glances around one more time. Then he focuses back on her, as her small hand wraps around his cock. That perfect green of his eyes has almost completely been swallowed by the black of his pupils when his eyes meet hers again.

Ethan shifts where he sits, trying to wiggle closer to Karina when she start to move her hand up and down his thick length. Karina other hand rests on his strong thigh, helping her keep her balance. Karina lean forward, licking her lips, hearing Ethan swear under his breath when her lips wrap around the swollen head of his cock. Running her tongue over his slit, moaning when the taste of his pre-come hits her tongue for the first time.

“Fuck, sweetheart that’s it,” Ethan groans, tossing his head back, hand fisting in Karina's hair as she take him further into her mouth, Karina's tongue pressing to the underside of his cock.

Karina love the way his hand tightens in her hair, short nails that dig into her scalp.

Karina's hands are now resting on both his thighs, as his cock bumps against the back of her throat. Ethan thrusts his hips, letting himself go a little, she watch him, almost positive there has never been a sexier sight in the world. The speed in which he snaps his hips causes her to gag a little. But even after his surprised gasp, Karina continue when his hips stop moving, letting her take the control back.

Karina continue to take him as deep as she can, saliva leaking from the corners of her lips. Nails sinking into his thighs when she swallow around his cock. Then it slips into her throat briefly and Ethan can’t stop the choked out whine that slips past his perfect lips at her actions.

Ethan's tugging on Karina's hair becomes more insistent, she finally relent, gasping for air when his cock is popped from between her lips, smacking back against his stomach.

Karina's pussy is still throbbing almost painfully, she look up at him and lick her lips, with her most seductive smile she step back, further into the pool, beckoning him towards her with a single finger.

Taking a moment to catch his breath he watches her, reminding her somewhat of a tiger ready to pounce on their meal.

Then all the air gets stuck in Karina's throat and she have to fight not to choke on it, when Ethan slips into the pool, skin still slick with sweat and he looks like a male model. He’s fucking stunning, slipping beneath the water briefly, he reemerges, running a hand through his now dripping wet hair as he walks towards her slowly, Karina suddenly not sure if she even remember how to speak.

The confidence from before is slipping and she sure that he can see it, which is made clearer when the corner of his mouth curves into a half smirk. Clearly someone catching the two of them was the last thing he was worried about now.

Crowding Karina back against the pool’s edge, Ethan presses himself close to her, resting a hand on the edge behind her, while his other hand tucks some wayward hair behind her ear.

Leaning in closer his nose nudges hers, hot breath fanning across Karina's lips, and she finally manage to swallow the lump in her throat.

“How’re you still so nervous about kissing me, sweetheart? With what this perfect little mouth just did, felt fuckin’ incredible wrapped around my cock”

Ethan pauses to let his thumb brush over Karina's parted lips, she lick her lips as his hand moves down slowly and he captures her chin. “I still remember that time at that end of year house party, the one which you and Sammy snuck into” he smirks, causing her to suck in a breath when his free hand grips her ass roughly, pulling her closer to him.

Karina blushed like crazy at the mention of that night, “You were drunk off your ass Ethan, I didn’t b-” Karina cut off by Ethan plump lips pressing against hers in a demanding kiss, his big hand cups her neck, thumb pressing into her jaw as he angles her head right were he wants it.

It takes her mind a moment to catch up with her body but she finally breathe, relaxing into the kiss. Ethan's free hand moves behind Karina's back, tugging the ties of her bikini top until it falls loose and Ethan tosses it away. Moving those big warm hands down Karina's body Ethan cups her breasts, pinching and rolling her nipples with his rough fingers and thumbs.

Karina's lips part at the same time as Ethan's, her tongues effortlessly moving together. As Ethan pulls back she capture his bottom lip between her teeth, delighting in the groan that bubbles up in his throat. He doesn’t stop there, kissing and nipping his way down her neck, sucking marks into her soft skin.

“You believe me now?” He all but growls against her ear, she nod quickly, tugging at the strings of her bikini bottoms, pulling them loose.

Ethan pulls away from Karina's neck, finally meeting her eyes again, his wet hair spiked up in all sorts of directions from the pair of her carding her hands through it. Water still clings to his eyelashes, dropping from the tip of his nose, water droplets rolling down his chest distracting her a little.

“Yes Ethan, I believe you.” Karina answer obediently, taking his hand and positioning it between her own thighs.

Ethan looks down the very small gap remaining between the two of them, sliding two fingers between Karina's folds, she grab at his shoulders when those fingers push inside her. Karina's walls stretch around his fingers, one of her hands falls from his shoulder, dropping beneath the water she wrap her small fingers around his thick cock.

Karina's forehead drops against his, panting breaths begin to mix together. Hitching a leg over his hip Karina rock against his fingers, feeling his cock pressing into her thigh.

“You want my cock in your pretty pussy baby? You wanna fuck the pool guy, like a dirty little girl?”

“Jesus Ethan,” Karina moan as his filthy words wash over her. No guy had ever spoken to Karina like this before and there was no denying that she were loving it, but she don’t have a clue about how to respond to him. “Not so worried about the neighbours seeing us now then?” Karina question breathlessly, as Ethan carefully pulls his fingers out with a final tap against her clit.

“Fuck it, let ‘em watch.” Ethan grits out when Karina release his cock. Karina running her hands up his chest then grip his broad shoulders, using them to balance when he roughly grabs her ass and squeezes, she jump a little, hooking her other leg over his free hip.

As Karina rocking her hips, Ethan’s thick cock easily slides against her slick pussy, nudging between her folds he repeatedly taps against her clit, she can’t help but whimper, clinging to his broad shoulders.

Pausing for a moment Ethan lifts Karina higher, “You ready sweetheart. C’mon talk to me? You want my cock baby?” Ethan questions huskily smirking when Karina bite her lip, his thighs shaking trying to resist the urge to just snap his hips forward.

Karina moan pushing her ass harder into his hands, hoping that he’ll give her what she need. Ethan lines up with her entrance, so that the head of his cock nudges teasingly against her opening and she meet his darkened green eyes.

“C’mon pool boy, show me what you’ve got.”

A long drawn out moan leaves Karina lips when Ethan finally breaks, slowly lowering her onto his hard cock. Clenching his jaw, veins becoming more visible in his neck as he enters her slowly inch by tortuous inch.

“So fuckin’ tight.” Ethn groans dropping his head forward, so that he can suck and bite marks into Karina's neck. Karina cling to him, curses and whimpered plea’s leaving her lips.

Tugging on Ethan’s hair harshly Karina force him to look up at her.

“Fuck! I need it Ethan, please!” Karina begging but she don’t care, because the words are barely out of her mouth before Ethan gives her what she need, snapping his hips forward, filling her in one blissfully hard thrust.

Ethan's fingers are digging into Karina's ass when he starts thrusting, the movements slow and rough but precise, hitting her g-spot on every movement. Karina's feet dig into his ass, water splashing around them with every powerful movement.

“You feel so good baby, shit.” Ethan pants breathlessly, pulling his head away from Karina's neck and his gorgeous green eyes lock onto hers. Karina pushing her hands into the back of his hair as she kiss him, tongue meeting his and messy uncontrolled kiss, angling her hips just right she start to rise and fall on his cock.

Breaking apart only when she feel her pussy beginning to clamp down around his thick length.

“Ethan.. please I’m g-gonna come..” Karina gasp out as she begin to lose her rhythm.

“Fuck, C’mon baby give it to me. Come all over my fucking cock!” Ethan practically snarls low in his chest.

Karina hooking legs over his arms a squeak of surprise leaving her lips when Ethan starts fucking up into her more faster. He’s so deep, it’s like a fire is building in her stomach.

Karina cling to him, his rough movements cause the water to create waves around her. Ethan feels so fucking good that Karina barely notice, she drop her face into the crook of his neck, hot breath fanning against his skin. Sucking and biting marks everywhere she can reach, then out of nowhere Karina orgasm hits her full force, causing her eyes to roll almost painfully, she have to sink her teeth into his shoulder to stop herself from screaming his name.

Ethan hisses as the pain throbs against his skin, carefully he lowers her legs letting her feet touch the floor again. Feeling a little dazed, Karina run her fingers along the bite mark on Ethan's skin, she can’t help but wince a little.

“I’m sorry pool boy, got you all marked up.” Karina giggle lightly, biting into her bottom lip when those eyes turn on her again.

A growl bubbles up in Ethan's throat, he spins her in his hold; roughly pressing Karina into the side of the pool, his chest pressed tightly against her back. Karina spread her legs as his lips press against her ear.

“Oh you wanna see marked up sweetheart, I’ll show you.” Ethan snaps harshly, causing Karina skin to practically buzz as he drags his teeth over her earlobe, those big hands spread her ass cheeks and his cock nudges at her slick entrance again.

“I’ll give you fuckin’ pool boy.” Ethan grunts as he pushes inside Karina in one thrust and bottoms out, muffling her screaming moan with his hand.

Karina fall over the side of the pool with a whimper when Ethan releases her mouth, grip tight and unyielding on her hips. His thrusts are nothing like they’d been before and she can’t get enough, the water sloshes over the edge of the pool as Ethan’s hips bounce off her ass with every brutal thrust he delivers.

“You’re so deep.. Fuck! Feels so good Ethan,” Karina cry out loudly, completely giving up on keeping her voice down, Karina push her ass back meeting his thrusts the best that she can.

“Shit, Karina! I’m gonna come.” Ethan grits out as his hips begin to stutter. His big hands move further over the curves of Karina body, wrapping those talented fingers around her ribs, and she sure that bruises will form there the same way they were beginning to on her hips.

Ethan shifts so that his knees are resting on the ledge between Karina legs, leaning over her so his body is almost draped on top of hers.

“Give it to me Ethan! Please, I need it! Don’t stop.” The words leave Karina lips without her really thinking, nobody has ever had her this wound up and ready to snap, not this fast and definitely not for a second time.

Pushing a hand between her legs Ethan rubs rough circles around Karina clit, forcing her orgasm forward, It’s practically bubbling in the pit of her stomach. Squeezing her eyes shut Karina feel her thighs start to shake. Ethan stills behind her, a broken moan leaving his plump lips when he finally comes, her pussy clamps down on his cock as he spills inside her.

His fingers and hips keep moving, his hands feel like they’re everywhere. Karina can’t take it anymore, she gasp his name and with a final rough thrust of his hips pushing her into the side of the pool, she fall apart around him all over again.

Karina shivering as her body collapses against the cold stone in front of her, Ethan's sweaty forehead drops to the bottom of her back, his soft lips pressing kisses into her skin waiting for her to come down.

Karina breathing finally slows down and Ethan helps you down, back into the water, he turns Karina in his arms. “Fuck that was the sexiest thing that’s ever happened.” Ethan grins happily, pulling her body against his as he kisses her, she melt against his lips.

Smiling when she pull away, she push the wet hair from his forehead.

“Think we’ll be remembering this for a few weeks.” Karina giggle, running her fingers gently over the marks on his skin, as his fingers skim across the bruises he’d left behind on her body.

Biting his lip his eyes move across Karina body, still standing so close to his own.

“Oh yeah sweetheart, I’d say so.”

“Trouble is Mr pool man, you’ve definitely got more work to do.”

Ethan rolls his eyes, but she can see the smile that’s curling at the corners of his lips, when he dangles her bikini bottoms from his finger, right in front of her face.

“Oh you ain’t gettin’ out of this one young lady.”

Karina squeal as he tosses the bottoms aside and throws her backwards, she land in the water with a splash. Karina re-emerge from the water, gasping for breath and glare right at Ethan.

“Oh you’re so fucking dead, Lee!”

[mrs-kodzuken]

ceo's p.a. ⟢ kenma. k

warnings: personal assistant!reader, sexual content (blow job male!receiving, deep throating [more like face-fucking], making out, spit, fingering f!receiving, orgasm denial, top!kenma, bottom!reader) possible buddings of a future situationship, barely fluff and mostly horny, head canons lead into a small fic

*mdni*

CEO!Kenma who hired you solely because of your resume skills and not because of the way you look, that was just a plus

CEO!Kenma who finds himself drawn to you, the way your professional clothes hug your body, your reading glasses, even how you do your make up, he’s drawn to it

CEO!Kenma who doesn’t act on his feelings, not wanting to lose a valuable employee nor wanting to go against the own rules he set as the boss

CEO!Kenma who uses your behavior at the next meeting to go off on a few employees who “could stand to be a bit more obedient like my assistant”

CEO!Kenma whose words ignite a fire inside of you, making you press your thighs together in the middle of the meeting, holding your head down, hands clutching the clipboard for notes and face flushed because of your boss

CEO!Kenma who can’t get out of your mind, ever since that meeting, you’re thinking of him, dreaming of him, wanting him, seeing him in a new light

CEO!Kenma who wears the most expensive business suits to work on important days, knowing what it does to his favorite assistant, he’s too observant for you to not realize he knows the effect he has on you

CEO!Kenma who continues to request weirdly specific and slightly sexual things to purposely make you flush because he loves the sight of your embarrassed face

CEO!Kenma who requests for you to grab the staples he dropped trying to put them in the stapler on his desk, and his reason for asking you to? his neck hurt from sleeping weird

CEO!Kenma who waits patiently for you with a smirk on his face so you can do what he asks like the obedient girl you are, and you would have no trouble with it if the staples didn’t purposely fall in between his legs

CEO!Kenma who states, “you look good at this angle” as you’re on your knees looking up at him with a flushed face, you hurried to grab the staples and after that day you made sure they were always filled

CEO!Kenma who corners you one day after work, you had stayed late to organize your work load for the next few days, and Kenma decided to trap you and ask a few questions

CEO!Kenma who asks you, “I’ll give you a bonus if you want to be my good girl for tonight?” you were completely shocked but couldn’t deny the sexual feelings you got from him

CEO!Kenma who sets you down between his legs and tells you to take out his cock and suck it like a good girl

CEO!Kenma who helped guide his own cock into your warm, wet mouth teaching you how to properly make him feel good

CEO!Kenma who groans out how much of a good, obedient girl you’re being, “make me cum and i’ll reward you, pretty” and that only gets you fired up as you try to deep throat his entire length, you started gagging when it hits the back of your throat

CEO!Kenma who mumbled out a quick, “fuck, sorry” before slamming his entire cock into your throat, your eyes immediately welling up with tears as you choked

CEO!Kenma who came down your throat as you struggled to breathe but couldn’t ignore the delicious feeling of helplessness you got from it, it turning you on

CEO!Kenma who looks down at you with lidded eyes and then opens your drool covered mouth with his thumb to spit into it, he loved the sight of your tear ridden face, especially when it was because of him

You unintentionally swallowed the saliva that your boss spit into your mouth. It was a reflex you didn’t know you had till now. Gazing up at him, you just knew your make up was running every where, you probably looked a mess.

Kenma smirked, “It’s time for your reward, pretty.” He patted his thigh, signaling for you to climb on to his lap.

You ignored the burning in your throat and nose as you did what he asked, anything to soothe the burning desire from your core. You needed something, anything to help fill the aching desire of need.

“Want me to make you feel good?” He lowly asked in your ear as you fell into his lap, legs over his hips. You nodded into his shoulder, lust not clearing your eyes anymore and the realization that you’re doing this with your boss coming back.

“No, come on. I need to hear you say it, doll.” He gave a warning slap to your ass, igniting a yelp out of you.

“Ah—yes. I want you to make me feel good, please.” You begged him, hands tightening on his shoulders. You couldn’t bear to look him in the eyes, his watchful, piercing eyes.

You felt delicate hands push up your pencil skirt and tug your panties to the side. Your hole clenched around nothing as you felt the tips of his fingers run across your heat. He was teasing you now.

You waited impatiently as he circled his fingers around your clit without touching it, making you whine in need. The tips of his fingers playing with every part of your cunt except the parts you needed him to.

“Please, please touch me. I’ve been so good for you,” You whined, almost on the brink of crying. It hurt being this full of need with nothing soothing the painful ache.

“Only since you asked nicely.” And then three long, slender fingers rammed inside your cunt. Your head threw back and a loud moan was heard from your lips.

That’s when Kenma started jackhammering his fingers in and out of your pussy, not giving you any time to recuperate. His fingers kept constantly hitting that spot inside of you that you needed, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“You like that?” Kenma groaned; you felt his still uncovered cock starting to become hard once more. And you couldn’t even do anything to respond to his question.

“Fuck, you’re so wet, doll. You’d feel so good around my cock, huh?” Those sickenly sick words added oil to the fire that was inside of you.

You couldn’t stop the moans escaping your mouth nor the feeling of your orgasm creeping up on you. Kenma could feel your cunt starting to squeeze his fingers more and he waited just a few more pumps and that’s when he stopped.

You were on the brink of cumming when he pulled his fingers out of your pussy. A trail of shiny liquid left behind on his perfectly manicured fingers.

“Stop, no, please! I was so close!” You cried, tears actually falling from your eyes. You could feel your orgasm dispersing, but the feeling of horniness never fully went away.

You were about to complain some more to him, the man who had made you so fucking horny but to deny your orgasm. However, he cut you off with a sharp kiss, gripping the back of your head and forcing your mouth open.

You gladly let him explore your mouth, hoping that if he did this, he’d let you finish. The hot, wet muscle felt different compared to your own but that didn’t make it any less lust filled.

Kenma pulled away, eyes heavily lidded with desire, a trail of spit connecting your mouth to his. His burning hot cock throbbed underneath you, right near to where your pussy was soaking.

“Stay my good girl and I’ll let you cum as many times as you want.” He stared you in the eyes, a lazy smirk on his face, entrapping you into nodding your head as if you were in a trance.

You’d stay his good girl for as long as forever if it meant that he would pleasure you like this from now on.

a/n: hot damn, wasn’t expecting my mind to write this lmfao, as always requests are open and i hope you enjoyed <33

[taurasiluvr]

how you can help palestine

★ req. "I NEED size kink kate smut pls and thank you 🫶🫶"

 ⠀ ── ⠀warnings ;; nsfw under the cut, mdni. fingering + oral (r. receiving), sweet soft sex, kate praising you 80% of this fic. just think of the sweetest smut fic imaginable.

 ⠀ ── ⠀rylin's notes ;; can't imagine kate as a hard-dom genuinely she seems like she talks you through everything, she is the ultimate praiser. also i did get a bit carried away and slightly lost the size kink element somewhere toward the end but it's definitely there in the beginning, nonetheless - i hope you guys enjoy!

 ⠀ ── ⠀word count ;; 955

kate slid her hand on to your naked stomach, her hand practically covering the entirety of it. her breath catching in her throat as her eyes took in how small your entire body just in comparison to her hand.

kate's eyes darkened with a mix of awe and something deeper, more primal. she gently caressed your soft skin, her fingers tracing delicate patterns that sent shivers down your spine.

"god, you're so perfect," she murmured, almost to herself. there was a reverence in her voice, as if she were in the mere presence of something precious and fragile.

you bit your lip, feeling a mix of vulnerability and excitement under her intense gaze. "kate..."

she looked up, meeting your eyes with a soft, yet intense expression. "can't help it. the way you fit against me, the way my hand covers so much of you... it drives me crazy."

she leaned in to begin peppering kisses all over your collarbone and neck, eliciting soft whimpers from your mouth. the sensation of kate's lips on your skin sent a cascade of shivers through your body. her kisses were soft and deliberate, as you clung to her, your fingers tangling in her hair as she continued her affectionate assault on your neck and collarbone.

"kate..." you breathed out, your voice barely a whisper.

she pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, her eyes dark with intensity. "love how you respond to me," she murmured, her voice husky. "every little sound, every little shiver... it makes me go crazy."

her hand continued to explore your body, moving from your stomach to your waist, her touch firm yet gentle. she guided you to lie back, her body hovering over yours, creating a cocoon of warmth and security around you.

"you have no idea what you do to me," kate whispered, her lips brushing against your ear. "how perfect you are to me."

you felt a rush of emotion at her words, your heart swelling with love. you reached up, cupping her face in your hands and pulling her down for a deep, passionate kiss. her lips moved against yours with a fervor that matched your own, both of you lost in the overwhelming connection you shared.

kate's hand slowly began sliding down your waist to your thighs, slowly spreading them open. you let out a sigh in the kiss, your head fall back as her lips began dropping down to your jaw.

her kisses continued their descent, finding sensitive spots along your neck and collarbone, each one eliciting soft moans from your lips. "baby..." you breathed out, your voice trembling with need.

kate paused for a moment, her eyes meeting yours, filled with an intense mix of adoration and desire. "you're everything to me," she whispered, her voice husky. "wanna make you feel as amazing as you make me feel."

with that, her lips resumed their journey, moving lower and lower, while her hand caressed your thigh, sending waves of pleasure through your body. every touch, every kiss was an expression of her love, making you feel cherished and desired in a way that words could never fully convey.

kate found her way in between your legs, spreading them further apart until you were completely at her mercy. she leaned in, pressing a kiss to your clothed pussy before she took it off slowly, discarding on the bed somewhere.

"so pretty," she mumbled as she began pressing kisses all over your thighs. you let out a soft moan, your hands tangling in the sheets as you tried to ground yourself against the overwhelming sensations.

kate's hands caressed your legs, her touch firm and reassuring, a perfect counterbalance to the gentle kisses she placed on your skin.

"oh fuck..." you whispered, your voice trembling with anticipation and need.

she paused, her eyes meeting yours, a smile playing on her lips. "love seeing you like this," she murmured. "completely undone, just for me."

with that, she resumed her ministrations, her lips moving closer and closer to your most sensitive area. the anticipation was almost too much to bear, your body aching for her touch. when her lips finally met your soaking core, a cry of pleasure escaped your lips, your back arching off the bed.

kate's movements were slow and deliberate, her tongue and lips working in perfect harmony to draw out every ounce of pleasure. you were lost in the sensation, your hands reaching down to tangle in her hair, holding her close as she brought you to the brink of ecstasy.

kate slipped in a finger into your soaking pussy, causing another sweet moan to leave your lips. that encouraged her further as she closed her eyes so she could really soak in everything about you. she'd done this many of times but every time felt even more special than the last.

she curled her finger inside of you as her tongue began circling your clit, your back arching off the bed. every touch, every kiss was an expression of her love, making you feel cherished and desired in a way that words could never fully convey.

and with a final, exquisite movement, she sent you over the edge, your body writhing in pleasure as you cried out her name. kate held you through it all, her touch grounding you, her kisses gentle and soothing.

as the intensity of the moment began to fade, she moved up to lie beside you, pulling you into her arms. you nestled against her, feeling completely at peace, your heart full of love for the incredible woman beside you.

"i love you," she whispered, her lips brushing against your forehead.

"i love you too," you replied, your voice filled with sincerity and contentment.

if you enjoyed, any interaction is greatly appreciated!

with love, rylin 𝜗𝜚

[awrkive]

this is literally tlp oc

https://x.com/jubilescent/status/1857569442672107834?t=xf9cjG_BdmBQuzW7pGPOuA&s=19

summary: something about jungkook lounging around in nothing but loose boxers with the blue plaids on the couch just snaps something primal in you

w/c: 1.2k

warning/s: explicit smut: dry humping, making out, horny tlp!oc lmfao god bless her

note: funny thing is i recently saw this on twt too and thought the same 😭 heres a super quick drabble cos i cant resist

“Slow down,” Jungkook grunts, hands tightening around your waist. He had been guiding your movements awhile ago, but as moments passed he just let you ground against his cock in whatever pace you liked. But the pace you’re going in is obviously torturing Jungkook, with him hissing in your ear and biting the tip as he feels himself getting harder and twitching in his loose boxer shorts. “Shit, baby, slow the fuck down. I’m gonna cum.” 

You’re feeling particularly nice so you do slow down, only for a fraction though, peeling your face from Jungkook's neck so you can stare him down with furrowed brows and a jutted lip so he knows you’re not that happy about that. He chuckles before leaning down to kiss you, tongue slipping past your parted lips to lap your mouth, kissing you like how he’d eat your pussy – greedy like he’s trying to cut you out of your air supply. 

But you couldn’t care less, really. 

The moment you saw him lounging around in nothing but loose boxers with the blue plaids on the couch, there was something primal that snapped in you, making you plop down on his lap, completely ignoring the computer perched on his huge thighs. His macbook’s now disposed on the coffee table anyway, hands full of you currently grinding against his boxer-cladded crotch. The thin material produces a sweet, delicious friction against your spandex panties, his engorged head hitting your clit every now and then making you moan in his mouth. 

“Baby,” Jungkook breaks away from your mouth to pepper kisses down your jaw, hands traveling north to cup and squeeze your breasts in your camisole. “Let me take my shorts—” 

“No,” you quickly protest, staring at him wide-eyed and momentarily stopping your ministrations. At Jungkook’s surprise with your instant response, you grow a little flustered. “Uhm, I just wanna… dryhump.” 

“Ah…” He nods. Jungkook catches a strand of hair off your face and tucks it back behind your ear. “No sex, then?” 

“I don’t know… maybe later.” 

“Alright.” 

You resume your movements on his cock, with Jungkook making himself busy with your neck and your tits; focusing on the way the outline of his dick feels against your panties, so big and and taut, so pleasurable against your nether lips that you’re certain the wetness that’s gathered in your cunt is more than enough for him to just slide right in. 

And god, the thought was so hot. Just imagining yourself sinking down his cock and bouncing up and down on it while you dig your nails on his biceps – but sliding forward and backward against him feels just as good, too. Your clit's so stimulated that you feel like you’re putting yourself on that certain edge as well as seconds pass.

“Oh, fuck…” Jungkook groans, squeezing a little harder on your tit that makes you hiss. He mumbles a little “sorry” before you kiss it off his mouth.

Soon, you plant your palm on the couch, leaning backwards to give yourself more space. Jungkook lets go of your breasts in favor of your hips this time, but his grip is loose as he lets himself relax against the sofa, hooded eyes staring at you intriguingly as you bite your bottom lip and begin rolling your hips harder against his, not breaking eye contact as you buck against his bulge.

“F-feel good?” You ask, rocking your hips in tantalizingly slow circles, feeling the way Jungkook’s dick twitch under you as you feel his head hitting your clit everytime you slide forward.

“Fuck, yeah,” Jungkook sighs out, and he begins thrusting up into you, meeting your movements halfway. With that, you feel more of him, his heavy mass under his shorts getting more prominent by each second and soon you grow a little frustrated by the barrier. 

Jungkook looks at you curiously again when you lean sideways, only to bite his lip when you hook your thumb over the waistband of your panties, rolling them down your thighs. He carefully watches with lustful eyes as he sees the small hint of a wet string that connects your pussy and the flimsy fabric before you completely take it off you and throw it haphazardly to the side, sitting back on his cock and shutting your eyes close immediately to resume grinding against him. 

“Shit.” he hisses, throwing his head back at the sensation. He could just feel himself getting wetter by the precum oozing out of his head and the juices that accumulate on your pussy spreading all over his shorts, his nails digging on your hip – not enough to hurt, of course. 

“Ah,” You moan, clutching his shoulder tightly as your hips begin to stutter. 

Meanwhile, Jungkook gets more handsy. With his thumb catching the hem of your camisole, he fidgets with the fabric and slide it up until it exposes your bare stomach, but it didn’t feel enough, and so he continues to roll it up further until your breasts are out, with your perky nipples standing peak and tall. 

“Gorgeous, gorgeous girl,” Jungkook says in a hoarse voice, running his palm over your stomach in an almost feather-light touch, fingers crawling up towards your tits until they pinch your nipples in between thumbs and pointer fingers. 

“Oh, Kook…” You croak out, movements coming into a stutter at his touch. When you blearily open your eyes, you see Jungkook’s zeroed in on the way you’re connected down both your crotch, with your pussy lips fluttering open to accommodate his huge bulge every grind and his shorts turning a darker shade of blue due to the wet patch forming underneath.

You can tell he’s restraining himself by the veins that are apparent on his neck and the tight squeeze he has on your breasts, but as much as you want to say fuck everything and just put him in you – you don’t want to. 

“I’m so wet, you can just slide right in— ohhhh, god,” You moan, throwing your head back, rolling your hips.

“Yeah?” Jungkook grunts. “Can probably do that, huh? But you don’t fucking want to, am I right? Wanna make me cum in my pants?” 

You giggle because you can tell there’s a lingering annoyance in his tone, but you ignore it. 

“T-that’s the– ahh— goal, y-yeah.” 

Jungkook scoffs. “Turns you on so much, hm? The fact that I let you do anything to me,”

“Not anything,” you bring your head forward to stare at him. “I let you do anything to me.” 

That makes him grin, hands going down to your hips to give you some sort of a punishing squeeze that only really makes you moan in pleasure.

“You love it.” He gives you a shit-eating grin, but his fingers are ghosting way down your hips, and you can just tell where he's going with it.

You catch his hand that was getting dangerously close to your pussy, giving him a warning glare. “I let you spit in my mouth and do that weird motorboat thing with my boobs but you won’t even let me near your ass.”

That catches him off guard, his cheeks that were flushed with arousal ever since you started dry humping him have now gotten even redder. But Jungkook tries to laugh it off, cupping your jaw and kissing you on the lips to shut your giggle down. 

“God, shut up.” 

“Just for that, I’m cumming first, and as for you: I don't know.”

"Don't be mean."

But you feel his dick twitching under you, anyway.

[dakotalun]

"Oops" | Eddie Munson

pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem Reader

summary: Part 2--Reader now confronts Eddie about his text last week. Feelings are spilled and sheets are ruined.

warnings: oral (f. receiving), praise kink, pet names (good girl, baby, sweetheart, sweets, honey), dom!eddie, fingering, cunnilingus, degradation (brat, slut, whore, cockslut), squirting, aftercare

word count: 3.8k

a/n: This is part 2 to "Oops", which we now get into the real reason you all are here.

Part 1

*******NOT MY GIF, CREDIT TO OWNERS*******

He had to lie about talking to Callie from chem but it was better than the truth. He knew then that you didn’t feel the same way as him, and it hurt him. He meant to delete the photo after you ended the call but his mind was too clouded so he took a walk and forgot about it later on. If only he knew what you did that night looking at said photo.

“The truth?” Eddie didn’t know why there was this sudden burst of courage rushing through him, maybe it was the beers, or the weed or maybe it was just the fact that he needed to tell you how he felt, no matter what your answer was.

You nod your head at his question, turning to get a good look at him. His eyes were shut as he leaned against the wall, his neck stretched enough to show his adam’s apple bob as he swallows thickly.

“Yes.” You’re confused for a second, yes he didn’t know or yes he did know? “I knew it was you, I mean.” 

Oh. Oh, OH! Your brain scrambles thinking back to the picture and the text, ‘Couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you’. That’s what the text said, so did that mean it was you he was jerking off to?

“So the text…”

“Was about you. Yeah.” His shoulders rise a little before falling, like a weight had literally been lifted off his shoulders. His eyes are still closed, scared that if he opens them he’ll be met with a grin on your face before you laugh at him.

“Eddie,” You say softly, moving to sit up on your knees. He doesn’t open his eyes or move his head, “Eds. Look at me.”

You scooch forward, sitting next to him, your thigh touching his own. His eyes crack open at the touch, his gaze locked at the ceiling still.

You reach your hand up and cup his cheek, guiding his face to look at yours. His eyes are glossy, like he’s trying not to cry. You give him a soft smile, your own eyes begin to well up with tears. 

“I need you to listen to me, got it?” You wait for him to nod before continuing, “I love you Eddie. Both as a friend and more. I didn’t realize how much I loved you until you sent that photo, that wonderful, hot, sexy photo,” He tries to move his head away but you pull it back to you, “That photo that I ended up looking at as I made myself cum that night.” That caught his attention. He opened his mouth to say something but you were quick to stop him, resuming your speech.

“Eddie, why didn’t you just tell me you liked me? I wouldn't laugh at you or anything, if anything I’d probably realize I did too. I just don’t understand why you had to do that to tell me. Not that I didn’t love it, I did. Just, I need you to say it.”

He looks at you for a second more, making sure you’re done talking before speaking himself.

“Sweetheart,” His hand reaches up to hold your own, the one on his cheek, “If I’m being completely, 100% transparent with you. I didn’t think I was worth your time. You are way out of my league and the fact that you chose to stick by me all these years just made it even harder not to fall for you. But you,” He squeezes your hand, “You are the one I want to be with. Always have been, always will be. I don’t want anyone else. I love you so damn much baby.”

The new pet name made a smile creep onto your face, the tears finally breaking the barrier and spilling down your face. 

This man, your best friend, the one you didn’t know you loved as much as you truly did until a week ago, loves you back. You’re so happy that he loves you back that you can’t even stop yourself before you launch forward and pull him in for a kiss. It’s soft, your soft lips meeting his chapped ones, a perfect pairing.

You pull away after a few seconds, needing to breathe. Your foreheads are touching as you stare at each other, love and lust filling your eyes.

“Can I kiss you again?” You nod and Eddie leans in for another kiss. This one being harder than the other, more passion and lust thrown in. Eddie’s tongue brushes over your bottom lip, wishing for access that you give without a second thought.

You moan at the feeling of his tongue meeting yours, the taste of weed, beer and pizza still lingering. Eddie’s hand moves from its place over yours and to your waist, being met quickly with his other. He holds you tightly, afraid that if he didn’t you’d slip away from his grasp. You move your leg over his going to straddle his thighs. He helps you situate yourself on top of his lap, lips never once disconnecting.

The new position lets you feel just how hard he is under his sweats, the boner that you’ve only ever seen through a screen under only a few layers of clothing. You start to grind your hips on him, making him groan into your mouth at the friction. His hands move down to your hips, helping your movements, while yours tangle themselves in his hair, feeling just how soft it really is.

You grab a handful of it at the base of his neck, pulling lightly as you continue making out and grinding on him. On one particularly rough thrust, his sweats hit that perfect spot on your clit making you moan into his mouth and pull his hair hard. He lets out a deep groan at the feeling, which makes you smile into the kisses, now knowing a little secret about him.

“Shit baby,” Eddie breathlessly says as he pulls away from you, “Need to taste you. Please.”

The words go straight to your core, making the wet patch between your thighs grow.

“Are you sure? You don’t have to.”

“I want- I need to. Been dreaming of this forever,” He pulls further from your face, gauging your reaction, “Will you let me take care of you?”

You nod your head, “Words baby. I need words.”

“Yes, please Eddie.” The words come out more whiny than you’d wanted but you could care less at this point, all you can think about is him between your thighs.

Eddie flips the both of you over, laying you down so your head is on his pillows. He goes back to kissing you, leaving kisses all over. Your lips, your cheeks, your forehead, before roaming further down, to your neck, sucking little hickeys wherever he goes.

You just lay there relishing in the feeling of his mouth on you, your hands still in his hair. He glides down to your collarbone, sucking another hickey there. His hands are sliding all over your body, up your thighs, gripping your hips, towards your waist, pushing the shirt you have on up, exposing more skin to him.

“Can I take this off princess?” He looks at you, his big brown eyes almost black with lust.

Without responding you sit up quickly and yank the shirt off of your body, tossing it somewhere on his floor. You lay back down, now in only your underwear in front of him. There’s something about Eddie still being fully clothed while you were there basically naked in front of him that turned you on more.

“Jesus, princess. You’re so damn pretty,” He guides his hands towards your boobs, looking at you for permission, which you give, before palming them, “These perfect goddamn tits.” 

He leans down and starts sucking on one, kissing it softly at first before taking the nipple into his mouth, nipping it lightly. The other is being rolled between his fingers, pulling delicious moans and whimpers from you. He removes his mouth from one with a pop before giving the other the same treatment.

You try to buck your hips up into him, needing some type of friction, but his weight stops any possible movements. You can feel his bulge against your thigh and it’s driving you crazy not being able to see it, and have it inside you. Eddie bites a little harder causing you to scream out in pleasure/pain.

“That’s it baby. Let me hear you, I want every little moan and whimper,” He’s smiling at you as he goes back to trailing kisses down your body. He stops just at the waistline of your panties, slipping one finger through, pulling it back just to release and snap it against you.

You moan out, the slight sting feeling good. Your eyes followed him as he continued down, kissing your hips, and thighs. The teasing is driving you crazy but it feels so good at the same time, you love the feeling of Eddie’s lips on you. Eddie reaches your knee, planting a light kiss there before pulling away from you completely.

“You sure about this? We can stop now if you want,” His words seemingly far away in your ears.

You look at him and shake your head, his hair is disheveled from your fingers raking through it, his eyes blown wide at the sight of you, his sweats are tented containing the thing you want most right now. You sit up, crossing your legs beneath you as you reach for the hem of his shirt.

You tug at it until he gets the hint and pulls it over his head, tossing it down next to yours. Your eyes roam over his chest, eyeing the dark tattoos that contrast with his fair skin. You let your fingers wander over them, tracing the outlines and shapes etched into the skin forever. Eddie’s breathing quickens at the feeling of your fingers on him, he swears he could watch you do this all day but right now he needed to taste the girl of his dreams.

He grabs your wrists lightly, pulling them away from him much to both of your protest.

“Please, let me taste you. I wanna make you feel good,” He pleads with you for the second time that night. You stare at him above you before you look down at the ground; you’re scared now because you’ve never had someone go down on you, especially since you’ve only ever had one boyfriend who thought about himself more than you.

Your hesitation makes Eddie worried, he squats down in front of you to be in your eyeline.

“We don’t have to go any further. I’m okay with just going to bed now if that’s what you want.”

“No!” You quickly reply, “No I- I want this.”

“Are you sure? We don’t have to.” His eyes are soft, caring and full of truth.

You nod your head, “I want this Eds. I’ve just-” You sigh, “I’ve never had anyone…you know, go down on me.”

Eddie’s eyes widen at your words. He knows you dated someone a few years ago, assuming that the both of you did a lot together. But knowing this only fueled his need to please you more.

“Then let me be the first. I promise it’ll be amazing, for both of us,” He grabs a hold of your hands, “I want to make you feel amazing. Will you let me?”

You look at him, the lust in your eyes turning to pure unbridled love for the man in front of you. You nod your head, “Yes, I trust you.”

A smile breaks out on Eddie’s face as he goes back to his full height. “Lay back down for me sweet girl.” You follow his instructions, resuming your previous position on his bed. Legs wide and waiting for him.

He crawls over you, kissing his way towards your mouth. He plants one on you that has you moaning and bucking your hips into him again. He smiles into the kiss, pulling away and kneeling down so he’s eye level with your dripping cunt. His hands move like feathers over your skin reaching your underwear and slowly peeling them off of you.

His eyes never leave yours, making sure you’re comfortable as he pulls them off of you and throws them behind himself. Once he knows you’re safe and good he kisses up your thighs, towards your core.

You whine under him, he’s going too slow. You need his mouth on you and now. Eddie finally places the gentlest of kisses to your clit, pulling a squeal out of you before you buck your hips up in return. He smiles and goes in, licking and sucking the little bud until you’re a writhing mess under him.

Then he moves his tongue down, circling your hole a few times before slowly inserting it. He groans at the feeling of you pulsing around him, his hips rutting against the bed as he enjoys this just as much if not more than you.

The feeling of him inside of you, even if it is just his tongue is amazing and you can’t wait for more. Once Eddie thinks you are warmed up enough he glides his hand up to meet his mouth, replacing his tongue with one finger. The stretch it gives you is so new and pleasurable, once you get past the slight pain of it all.

“You’re doing so good, baby. Taking my finger so well, think you can take another one? Hmm?” Eddie looks back up at you wanting to see you fall apart for him. You nod frantically and mewl at his question, falling deep into the pleasure he’s giving you.

“Aw look at you, already so cock drunk and I’ve not even given it to you yet. You gonna be a good girl for me and take another finger so I can stretch you out for this cock?”

“Yes, please. Ed-” Once the word leaves your mouth another finger enters you, the pain shooting through you before being taken over by blinding pleasure.

Eddie pumps his fingers in and out of you at a slow pace, not wanting to hurt you, yet. But all you want is to cum, to feel yourself fall apart at his doing. The feeling of your core tightening signals both you and Eddie of what’s about to happen.

Eddie then attaches his lips to your clit again, sending you over the edge, cumming all over his fingers and face. He pumps his fingers until he feels you loosen around him then takes them out.

“God you taste so damn good sweetheart,” He crawls back on top of you, face to face before guiding his fingers that were inside of you to your mouth, “Taste yourself baby.”

You oblige and open your mouth, sucking his fingers clean of your juices. He groans at the sight, the way your eyes roll back and you moan around his fingers. He pulls them out because if he didn’t he was sure he’d cum just watching you like that.

Eddie goes to take off his sweats but you stop him, “I wanna make you feel good too Eds.”

Eddie’s eyes go wide, he’s thought of your pretty little lips around him so much and you offering it right now is like heaven but he knows that the moment your mouth touches him he won’t be able to hold back. “Sweets, you have no idea how much I want to watch that but right now I need to be inside of you. I’ve waited long enough, you can suck me off another time, promise.”

He kisses you then pulls his sweats down along with his underwear. His cock springs free, red and leaking precum just like the photo. You can’t stop yourself once you see it, you reach out and take it into your hands, stroking it slowly, softly, taking your time to relish in the feeling of your hand around him.

Eddie seems to be doing the same thing, moans and groans falling from his lips until his hand grips your wrist to stop your movements, “Gotta stop baby, or else I’ll bust right now.” He laughs a little before leaning down to give you a small peck on the lips.

He lifts himself up onto his hands and reaches for his bedside table, opening the top drawer and pulling out the small, aluminum square. He rips it open with his teeth before sliding the latex over his hard on, pumping it a few times before lining it up with your entrance.

He looks up at you, eyes locking, “You sure about this? We can still stop.” He’s so sweet and kind it makes your heart ache. You place your hand on his cheek, he leans into the touch.

“Please Eddie. I’ve never wanted anything more.” You give him a kiss, filled with love and lust and passion. With that he slowly pushes in, just the tip to get you used to the girth of him.

Your head falls back onto his pillows, one hand moving to grip his hair the other his back. He pushes in a little more, inch by inch until he is finally all the way in. The groan he releases when he feels you clench around him, getting used to his size, is like music to your ears. A song that you could listen to on repeat for hours on end.

“Need you- need you to move Ed, please.”

“Gimme a sec baby, wanna make this last.”

A few seconds later he pulls out only an inch or two before going back into the hilt. The feeling of him moving sends shivers down your spine, loving every moment of it. He gains more confidence and pulls out all the way to the tip before slamming back into you. The way your tits move from the force makes Eddie’s mind go blank.

Eddie’s pace is slow and rhythmic, just trying to let you adjust to him, but you need more.

“Faster Eddie. Faster.” It falls out of you as a moan, barely audible to yourself but he hears it and grants your wish picking up the pace. Your moans grow louder as his pace speeds, you start mumbling incoherent things.

“Good girl, take this cock like the little slut you are. Bet you love it when I call you my little slut huh?” You squeeze around him at his words, “Oh I felt that baby. You like it when I degrade you don’t you my little whore, hmm? Gonna always be the little cockslut that I know you are. Falling apart with me inside of you.” 

You’re not even trying to hold anything back at this point, the feelings being too good to try to stop, “God Eddie you feel so good. You’re so big, dammit!” He hits that sweet spot inside of you that has your eyes rolled back and mouth wide open but nothing coming out.

“Oh, is that the spot honey? That the spot that makes you feel good?” He moves against you to hit that spot over and over again. Your brain goes numb, not registering anything that’s happening around you, too shrouded in pleasure to care.

Eddie’s talking to you but you can’t hear what he’s saying. Next thing you know he’s circling your clit with his fingers again, pulling a particularly loud whine out of you.

“Ed, I’m gonna- Shit! Feel like I’m gonna pee, gotta stop.”

“Oh but sweetheart that’s what I want you to do, wanna see you cum and squirt all over this cock of yours. Come on cum for me baby girl. I know you got one more in you.”

His words ring in your ears, but they sound so far away. The feeling of his hand gripping your hip and the fingers on your clit and the dick inside of you all becoming too much and you just let go. There’s a gushing sound as Eddie pounds into you faster and harder, now chasing his own orgasm. It rips through him just as hard as yours did you, his white sperm spilling into the condom. A small part of you wishes it wasn’t there, to feel his seed inside of you, maybe even have it stay there until you get pregnant.

Eddie collapses on top of you, breath hot and heavy against your neck. He’s planting small kisses along your shoulder and collarbone, waiting out the wave of pleasure that just overtook the both of you. Sooner than you’d like he’s getting up and pulling out of you, making you whine at the loss of him.

He exits the room for a short amount of time, returning to you in the same position. He starts to wipe you clean with a warm towel, being careful of your sensitive clit before pulling your shirt and underwear back on you. He puts his own clothes on, neglecting his shirt this time around. He goes to the side of you, picking you up bridal style and carrying you into the living room to lay you down on the couch.

He returns to his room to change his sheets and lay a towel down to soak up what seeped through. Once his sheets are changed he goes back to get you and places you back in his bed, pulling the covers up over you. He gets you a glass of water for when you regain consciousness and some pain killers he knows you’ll probably need.

Eddie gets in beside you, pulling you close, rubbing your arm as you breathe softly into him. A few minutes pass before you start to open your eyes. He looks down at you, brushing some hair away from your face.

“Hey there you are. How’s my girl doin’?” That smile you love so much is spread across his face.

“Mm, tired. Sore. And very happy.”

“I got you some water and painkillers,” He reaches over and grabs them from his bedside table, “Take these and drink this.”

You sit up a little and do as he says, drinking all of the water in the cup before resuming your position curled up at Eddie’s side.

“So how was it?” A smirk on his face.

“Eh, it was okay I guess. I’ve had better.” Eddie scoffs and hits your arm lightly, which just makes you giggle.

“Damn guess I gotta kill you now. Can’t have you going around telling people I’m only okay in bed,” He retorts back.

You look up at him, “And who else do you think you’ll be sleeping with? Cause if it’s not only me then I’ll keep my promise of castrating you.”

“Oh so you want to do it again, even after it was just okay?” You slap him in the chest.

“I’d do it a million more times if it feels that good after every one,” You say before giving him a kiss, “Will you be my boyfriend?”

“Already am sweetheart,” You give a quizzical look, “Since the day I met you I was yours. Always will be.”

You smile at his words, planting another kiss on his lips, “And I’ll always be yours.”

Eddie Taglist: @ali-r3n @dixontardis @witchwolflea @micheledawn1975 @daydreaming-mood @idfwfeelings @adaydreamaway08 @preciousbumplingbee @rustboxstarr @plk-18 @teary-eyed-egg @needylilgal022 @exploding-bonbon @gagasbee @eddiemunsonsguitarpic @aol19 @thatwitchyoucouldntburn

[21wanderer]

Secrets (Part 1 of 4) - Prelude

Originally an excerpt made for a writing challenge, after some encouragement to expand it, I have completed the story and broken it into four parts.

Being the oldest in your class wasn’t noteworthy, at least not most of the time, if you didn’t know, you wouldn’t have guessed that I was the oldest in my class, I was small and skinny, tall, but not as tall as half of my classmates. But being the first to turn 18 gave me some attention all of a sudden… Especially when I was the first in my class with a driver’s license, then my usually non-existing popularity soared.

I could borrow one of my parents’ cars quite frequently, and it did make me quite coveted in my class, both the guys and the girls thought it was pretty cool, now I could drive them places… It was nice to get the attention, it was nice to feel unique and special… But again it probably wouldn’t last forever, after all, they were going to turn 18 soon enough, and then they could start doing the same, and I could fade back into obscurity.

“Are you coming to the party, Dam?” asked Alice, one of my classmates. “No,” I answered, “you know I don’t drink.” “You don’t have to, quite the opposite actually, Vicky and I were kinda hoping you could drive us home after… Maybe we could go through a drive-in along the way,” Alice said with a wink, “think about it, will you? It would be so great, if you did.”

My class was a party class to say the least, it felt like they were having a party or get-together every week, usually drinking way too much. It was far from the first time I had been invited to the parties, but I always declined, I don’t drink for starters, so I wouldn’t fit in, but Alice’s words got me thinking, although honestly they were both pretty thoughtful as they were inconsiderate. Now they wanted me at their party as their ‘designated driver’, so I could chauffeur them all home after they got wasted.

---

My father works at a hospital in the next town over, he’s a bit of a workaholic, even after an accident that caused him to break his right foot quite badly, he insisted on getting back to work as soon as possible. That meant my mother or I had to drive him to and from work, the plus side being, that I could get to drive more often and gain more experience.

One day, when I came to pick up my father at the hospital, I had a life-changing moment, well, sort of. He wasn’t at the parking garage, but that wasn’t unusual, if he wasn’t here, he was still working. So I entered the hospital, hoping to run into someone, who could guide me in the right direction.

“Hi,” I said to a doctor heading out the double doors to Section 4. “Oh hi Damien, are you here to pick up your father?” she asked. “Yes, have you seen him?” I said, usually it was hassle to locate my father, especially when he was working overtime, when he wasn’t on the parking lot, I had to try and find him in one of the hospital departments, and that wasn’t always an easy task. “Well, he’s doing some work, in the Dermatology department, the storage room, room 417,” she said. “Room 417,” I repeated, “thank you very much.” “You’re welcome,” the doctor said with a smile as she left.

Sure enough I found my father in room 417, a room filled with shelves containing who-knows-what. My father sat at the only computer in the room with his back turned away. “Hi da-” I began, but I almost stumbled over what looked like two large, incredibly visible paint-cans. “Watch where your going, Damien,” dad said as he turned towards me. “Sorry, I didn’t see them,” I said embarrassedly, embarrassed that I could stumble over something so obvious. “Why are those buckets right in front of the door?” I asked. “They need to be disposed of,” my father said. I read the label on the white paint cans, on a pink label with thick black letters, it said: BodyPlast.

It was an unusual name, and I was kinda curious. “What is it?” I asked my father, who resumed his work. “It’s an experimental substance, meant to be used on skin on burn victims and other people with dermatological conditions. It apparently can replicate the exact skin tones and even hair on the skin that it’s applied to, quite remarkable.” “Then why are throwing it out?” “Because the labelling is incorrect.”

“Really? Seems like a waste.”

“Maybe, but it’s a safety standard, a common hospital procedure, we cannot use something on a patient unless we’re 117% sure, we know, what it is. So if the labelling is wrong, we can’t use it.”

The computer monitor went black, and my father got up from his chair, and began gathering the papers on his desk in a stack, “and although it’s quite interesting,” he said, “I’m not quite sure how helpful it’ll be, because if it replicates the skin of those it’s applied to, then it would take the colour of their skin as it is now with burns, scar tissue and so forth, which means that people would have had to apply it before their skin was affected. Then all of a sudden, it doesn’t sound that useful.” He picked up the papers and got up from his chair. “Listen, I just need to hand these sheets over to my colleagues, and give them some instructions. Can you just go back to the car and drive it over to entrance D? and I’ll be there in 10 minutes.” “Ok,” I answered instinctively.

My curiosity was piqued, well more than piqued. This BodyPlast sounded unbelievable, I had a scar on my neck, that I’d like to cover, but there was so much more to it than that. If what my father said was true, I could replicate the skins of others, that prospect lit a fire in me. My father left and went down the hall, I could hear his footsteps, thanks to the boot he wore on his right foot. Not wasting any time, I picked up the buckets, between them was a little folder, which I assumed was the package leaflet, I quickly stuffed it in my pocket, hopefully it would tell me everything I needed to know about BodyPlast. I left the hospital carrying the buckets, nobody noticed, nobody said anything. Once I was at the car I put them in the trunk, and hit them under the blanket, that always stayed in the trunk. I picked up my father by the entrance, and we drove home. My heart was pounding, but I tried to conceal it. Once we were home, I just needed to get the buckets into my room and hide them there. ---

At night, I opened one of the cans with great expectation. It contained a thick, viscous, pink liquid. I dipped a paintbrush into it, then applied a coating to my left arm, just a little bit above the wrist. Then I waited. 15 minutes later the pink colour had faded completely, it was now the exact same colour as my skin, and it was almost unnoticeable. I found an edge, and peeled it off. It was remarkable. The material was incredibly stretchy too – I could stretch incredibly wide, but would resume its original form, when I stopped, still looking perfect. I had to try it again. This time I painted my entire left arm, all the way up to my shoulder, and then I waited again. I peeled it off like a glove, and it looked exactly like my skin, it felt like my skin, even the small hairs were replicated. This was incredible. I slid on the ‘glove’ again, it was surprisingly easy to put on, and the result was flawless. You couldn’t tell, I was wearing an extra layer of skin on my arm. Then it dawned on me, and it was like being hit by a bolt of lightning… With this stuff, I could do almost anything… Or at the very least become anyone. All of a sudden it did feel like a good idea to attend a party.

[fanaticsnail]

Beautiful

Masterlist Here

Word Count: 1,400+

Synopsis: Big Mom has found her son, Charlotte Katakuri, a partner she deemed worthy enough for him to court for matrimony. While he is smitten immediately with you, he is determined to make a good impression on you by not revealing his face. Your curiosity gets the better of you.

Warnings: Katakuri x f!reader, talks of husband and wife, use of bride, massaging face, fluff, so fluffy.

Notes: wrote this half-dazed at 6:30am this morning because @gingernut1314 decided she needed the big man in her life and the brain-worm got me. Here he is, the big guy all for you, sweetheart. Art link

Tag List: @feral-artistry @i-am-vita @indydonuts @sordidmusings @since-im-already-here @writingmysanity @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training

Being courted by the Minister of Flour was not something you had ever pictured to be highlighted on your impressive resume. When you first received an invitation from the Charlotte family to venture to Komugi island, this was not an outcome you predicted for yourself. 

Charlotte Katakuri, the second son and third child of Big Mom, was told to find a bride. His orders were received, the date of his nuptials set, and his suit picked out for such an excitable occasion. The only thing that had not been set in stone was the partner joining him at his side after their soft march down the aisle. 

Your family was titled, strong, and one of the only families Big Mom had deemed worthy enough to usher in a new generation of pirates to join in taking the Charlotte name. Katakuri had no choice but to obey his mother, apprehensively accepting the terms of an arranged marriage against his own desires to simply live to protect his siblings, nieces, and nephews. While this was out of his control, what he could control was how his intended bride depicted him. 

He could continue to shield his face from you. His rationale was as such, “If they never view my face, they would never have reason to fear me.” And so he did as such, hiding his face beneath the fur shroud from the moment he met you, and every courtship session soon thereafter. As he laid his eyes on you for the first time, he was immediately smitten. Taken by your appearance alone, and your willingness to sign your name beside his on the registry to set your intentions to wed in stone, he could never be more proud to have a partner such as you. 

As his trust in you began to build, he slowly allowed you into his heart, and shared his burdens with you as Minister of Flour. He confided in you, relishing in your company as he openly courted you under the watchful chaperone of his younger sister, Charlotte Brûlée. 

One such occasion, he laid out a blanket for you and drew out a large wicker basket from behind his back. He presented you with an assortment of baked sweets and pastries with a soft blush dusting his cheeks beneath the fur shroud. While you accepted the treats with gratitude, you instead placed it beside you and knelt on the blanket, tapping your lap and asking him to lay on his back. 

“Tell me about your day, intended. I want to know every detail,” you smiled mischievously up at him. He cautiously stole a look at Brûlée, who emphatically ushered him to do as he was told with flailing hands. 

Lowering himself onto the mat beside you, he awkwardly shifted himself to attempt to do as you asked. Rolling your eyes, you reach your hands up to his shoulder and gently guide his larger form to lay his head in your lap. His entire head was the size of both of your thighs together, but you had no qualms or complaints about it. 

“Come on, I don't bite,” you reassured him with a soft laugh, “Let me hear about your journeys abroad. Tell me anything that you want, you have my complete attention.” He was a giant, but so incredibly gentle and sweet to those he deemed as family. 

Coaxing his head onto your lap, he immediately drew his hand up to his mask and secured it over his lips to keep his mouth and teeth hidden from your sight. You chose to ignore this, drawing your fingers up and settled him atop your thighs as he slowly, quietly spoke about his life to you. 

While Charlotte Katakuri was immediately taken by you in the registry office with your family and his, you were horrified by the sight that was met with you. You had heard stories about some of the Charlotte's being of unusual size and stature, but you had no idea exactly how tall your intended was. His form was almost three times your size, his intimidating appearance did nothing to stifle your nerves. 

Believing to have masked your concerns at the nuptuals well enough to be believable, your nerves all but melted away the moment his soft, soothing voice checked in with you afterwards. Charlotte Katakuri was a sweetheart, a 504cm tall sweetheart with such softness within his hardened exterior. 

Reclining his head on your lap, you rubbed at his plum-colored hair as he spoke about adventures away from Komugi. His hand gestures out in a flurry in front of his chest, pointing to the sky as he speaks so eloquently to you. Although he does not yet trust you enough for you to reveal his face, your curiosity begins to gnaw at the seams. 

You start to lower his inhibitions by massaging his scalp, scruff of his neck and forehead. His hair pricks your skin as your skillful touch chips away at his woes and worries. His voice quietens further as he closes his eyes as your hands firmly press against his forehead. You needed to see your soon to be husband’s face, you desperately craved to know what was going on beneath the furs. 

As he leans into your touch, he seemingly forgets about the shroud over his mouth hiding his sharpened teeth from you. He is in bliss beneath your hands, and he slips away into a world carved by your palms and fingertips. Your hands dip deeper, lower into his cheeks, your digits feeling his muscles relax their tension beneath your fingers. 

Smiling to yourself softly as he gasps at such sweetness befalling from you to him, he parts his lips gently. He arches his head further into your lap, the shroud finally lowering and revealing his sharp teeth and unnaturally widened mouth. His jaw falls slack as his brow becomes relaxed. 

You crave to coo at his vulnerability, truly enjoying empathetically how much he allowed himself to relax into your soft touch. This hardened general, this pirate minister, this older brother to so many siblings in the Charlotte family, was as malleable as rice flour mochi beneath your skilled digits. You took in his appearance, almost relieved at feeling the twin slits up his lips as you looked down at him with nothing but pure adoration. 

You were immediately in love with what you saw, your heart beating heavily against your ribcage as a warm flush rose to your cheeks. You loved him, all of him.

Brushing your hands over his cheeks, you silently and slowly commit his face to memory like reading a marble carving with a simple touch. He is gorgeous, and you remember to tell him so when he snaps out of his tranquility and looks at you with accusing eyes the moment he realized you slipped the shroud over his chin. 

“What are you doing?” he growls quietly, “Why did you do that? I don't want you to fear me-...” A soft gasp flees from your lips as you take him completely in. His lips split up his cheeks in an unnatural slit through symmetrical scars, his sharp fangs extend up on his lower jaw and over his lips. 

Although he feels slightly betrayed at the way you managed to easily reveal his face, his betrayal is eclipsed by shock and awe when he meets your eyes. 

“I-I just…” you trail off, your body cowering away in response to his anger, but your eyes still depict the emotion you so desperately desired to show him, “...-I just wanted to know. I wanted to see.” Charlotte Brûlée watched the interaction with interest, her own shock evident on her face. 

She witnessed the entire interaction with your hands on his face, almost calling out to warn her brother his face was going to be revealed, but quietly hoping you would fall in love with him further. She knew you loved him, knew you wanted to see him, and trusted you enough with her older brother that she knew you would love him more the moment his fangs and scars were brought into the light.

He was expecting fear, disgust, anguish and anger to be met in your curious gaze. But all you held in those calm and half-lidded orbs was pure trust, love, and pure adoration. His shock was adamant as he nervously floated his eyes between your gaze. His thumb and index finger circled around your much smaller hand, hovering it over his cheek as you felt your heart soar at the vulnerability.

“And now that you have?” his whisper came out more like a gasp, his voice breathy and craved to hear you say you weren’t afraid. He needed to know you did not fear his appearance, his wordless prayers spoken within his mind’s eye the longer your gaze soaked in his sight. 

You placed your unoccupied hand on his cheek, leaning in closer to his face and your lips curling into a soft, innocent and intimate smile. Caressing his cheek, you cocked your head to the side and finally uttered a single word he truly did not ever think he would hear. 

“Beautiful.”

[girlkisser13]

so high school

"touch me while your bros play grand theft auto"

pairings: gamer leo valdez x fem!reader

warnings/tags: smut (18+), thigh riding, protected sex (practice safe sex guys), dirty talk, multiple orgasms

summary: you interrupt leo while he's gaming looking for cuddles, but you end up getting a lot more than you bargained for.

"leoooo," you called out, sticking your head past the doorway to peer into your boyfriend's bedroom.

he was sitting on the edge of his bed, the faint sound of gunshots coming from his headset as he mashed the buttons on the controller in his hands. he was staring at the television mounted on the wall with rapt attention, completely unaware of your presence in the room.

sighing, you scuttled over to him, gently nudging his right arm upwards so you could slide underneath. he barely even reacted as you settled yourself across his lap while facing him, wrapping your arms around his torso and settling your chin onto his shoulder.

a few seconds passed before he really realized what you were doing, his focus finally switching from the game to you. momentarily pausing his button mashing, leo used one of his hands to take off his headset so he could hear you if you decided to speak, tossing it onto a nearby bean bag before resuming his hold on the controller.

he didn't say anything, but still acknowledged you by nestling his chin in the crook of your neck over your shoulder. your hands ran up and down his back in slow circles, the muscles of his arms flexing over yours as he continued to play the game. he was dressed in a simple white t-shirt and grey sweatpants, his curly hair tickling the side of your face. you were wearing nothing but an oversized shirt of his and a pair of plain white panties, and the material of his sweatpants was soft against your bare legs.

after a minute or two of simply sitting in his lap, you began to grow restless, wanting even more attention from your boyfriend than he was currently giving you. your mind began to drift back to when you'd been in a similar position to this only a few days prior, heat pooling in your stomach at the memory of you riding him.

tired of the lack of action, you shuffled backwards a bit and began to press kisses to his neck, grinding your hips down gently as you did so. that got his attention. he tilted his head to the side to give you better access, and you could feel him begin to stiffen slightly under your core.

"i wanna play, leo," you whispered, nipping the shell of his ear playfully.

"i didn't know you liked gta-"

"¡ wanna play with you, not the game," you pouted, slapping his arm lightly when he flashed you a mischievous grin.

"lemme finish this mission, and then we can do whatever you want, okay?" you let out a whine at his answer, not wanting to have to wait any longer. he chuckled at your reaction, using one of his hands to shift you in his lap so you were straddling one of his thick thighs. "use me, baby."

you felt him tense his thigh beneath you, letting out a low whine as you began to move back and forth, the pressure on your clit sending jolts of pleasure through you. your pants filled the air as you moved faster and faster, hands gripping him for balance.

although you could feel the pressure start to build in your core, you were getting a little tired, body aching from the effort. you were just about to say something when leo finally finished the mission and tossed the controller away, immediately sliding his hands up the bottom of your (his) shirt to grip your bare hips. you didn't even have to ask for what you needed, his strong hands guiding your movements to help bring you to the precipice.

"does my thigh feel good, princesa?"

you bite your lip and nod in response, lashes fluttering as you began to near your peak. the damp cloth of your panties rubbed deliciously against your swollen nub, and you were almost positive that when you pulled away, there would be a wet patch on his grey sweatpants.

noticing how close you were, leo's hand slid across your abdomen, his thumb immediately finding your clit. his finger moved expertly against you, and before you knew it, you were crying out, white hot pleasure shooting through you as you crashed over the edge.

the hand that was holding your hip moved to the small of your back, rubbing soothing circles into the soft skin there as you rode out your high. when you finally came down, leo leaned up to press a kiss to your lips, smiling against you when he felt you shudder from overstimulation.

his eyes were clouded with lust when he finally pulled away, his hand raising to brush a strand of hair away from your face. "feelin' up for another round? if not, I can take care of it myself."

your gaze flickered down to where his sweatpants were tented, your post-orgasmic haze fading almost immediately when you realized how painfully hard he was. waves of excitement and arousal shot through you as you shook your head vehemently, more than ready to take him. "no, i wanna keep going."

he searched your eyes for a moment before grabbing the hem of your shirt and pulling it over your head, his hands finding your hips immediately afterwards to flip you over so you were laying on the bed. A chill ran down your spine when the cool air brushed against your warm skin, only a little embarrassed at how wet you were when leo slid your ruined panties down your legs.

your lower lips were coated with your arousal, and leo swore quietly when he slid a finger through the damp folds. "damn, you're so fuckin' wet y/n."

"please, leo," you pleaded, wiggling your hips a bit when he didn't make a move to remove any of his clothing. you were all but aching with the need to feel him inside of you as soon as possible. "i'm ready."

"you sure? i haven't prepped you yet," he warned, his gaze a mixture of lust and concern as he stared into your eyes. you nodded confidently in response, your boyfriend only relenting when you gave him verbal confirmation that you'd be fine.

after sliding down his sweatpants and underwear and quickly rolling on a condom, leo crawled between your thighs, rubbing his cock between your wet folds to gather some of the slick there. he intentionally bumped your clit a few times as he did so, causing your breath to hitch as you wrapped your ankles around him.

"ready to take me, corazón?" he questioned, lining himself up with your dripping entrance before slipping inside in one quick motion after your consent. both of you moaned when he slid in to the hilt, the stretch from the size of him burning deliciously. "fuck, how are you always this tight? it's like you were made for me."

"i'm all yours, leo," you exhaled, both of you groaning when he finally began to move. his thrusts were slow but powerful, his pleasure wracking your body as he slid in and out. his cock filled you to the brim, hitting all of the right places as your second orgasm began to creep up on you impressively fast.

"close already?" he grunted, a small smirk on his lips. your cries grew louder as he began to speed up, leaning down to press a sloppy kiss to your lips as your walls began to flutter around him. "you're doing so good, mi amor, taking me so well."

"h-harder, i'm close," you begged, crying out when he obliged. his hips snapped against yours, one of his hands slipping down to play with your clit as your moans grew louder and louder.

the pleasure coiled in your gut, almost at the tipping point when he leaned down to growl in your ear, "cum for me like a good girl."

your mouth dropped open in a silent scream as bliss overtook you, pleasure wracking your body as leo fucked you through your orgasm. his thrusts started to become stuttered and uneven, and his hips stilled as he grunted and spilled into the condom after a few final thrusts.

the two of you laid there for a moment, your uneven breathing the only sound in the now silent room. leo wiped a few strands of your sweaty hair away from your forehead so he could press a gentle kiss there, sliding out of you so he could discard the used condom.

your body is tired and sweaty when he slips his strong arms beneath your shoulders and knees, picking you up bridal style and making his way towards the bathroom. you yelped and laced your arms around his neck, his bare chest rumbling with laughter when you asked him where you were going.

"gotta get you cleaned up, right?"

[literaila]

need lovey dovey gojo rn i miss him 🥀 please bless us with atf content

“can you just push me out of the window or something?” you ask satoru, a telltale whine in your throat, legs shaking as you hobble over to the couch.

your eyes are half-lidded, squinting at the light and flinching with every step you take because none of them feel quite right. can hardwood floor spontaneously move?

“hmm,” gojo’s arm is around yours, supporting you as you walk. “i could but i don’t know if it’s high enough to get you anywhere.”

“it will get me to an afterlife where my head isn’t vibrating.”

you can hear his chuckle, but your eyes cross involuntarily every time you look up. so you don’t. “or the hospital,” he tells you, squeezing your arm. “i mean, you are pretty weak but a fifteen foot drop—“

even amidst your confused walk and loopy gate, somehow your instincts are sharp enough to stomp on satoru’s foot. the years of practice have been well worth it just from the yelp that follows after.

gojo jolts back before he remembers that he’s the one supposed to be guiding you. but satoru retaliates anyway with a slight shove which makes your head ache and your eyes twist.

“you’re mean,” satoru tells you, with the same pout you’ve heard a thousand times. “just sit here and don’t move.”

“it’s worse when i don’t move.”

“oh, okay, walk around. if you run into another wall maybe you’ll hit your brain back into the right spot.”

you let out a slight groan, resting your head on your palm so it can’t go anywhere. “shut up, satoru, this is all your fault. and it wasn’t a wall.”

“my fault? sweetheart, i think you might be misremembering,” he mock coos, kneeling down to take off your shoes. “cause i wasn’t there. you just got home. it’s 2010. we’re in japan.”

“i know where we are, asshole. you distracted me! i was thinking about you trying to start a food fight with megumi at dinner last night when the curse came out of nowhere.”

satoru tuts. “sounds like someone needs to focus when she’s on a job,” he sing-songs.

“sounds like someone is going to be my personal servant for a month. do you have a cute little maid outfit laying around?”

“i—“

“okay,” tsumiki comes strolling in, then, carrying a tray piled so high up that her face is obstructed.

not that you’re looking—but it’s the thought that counts.

you flinch, closing your eyes tight at the feeling that comes after.

things would’ve been much more convenient if the kids were still at school and shoko was still in town.

still, hopefully satoru hasn’t told either of them anything and you can pretend all is swell with the world until further notice—

tsumiki continues, “i’ve got ice, water, tea, tissues, some bandaids…” she’s looking down trying not to trip over her own two feet.

“here,” megumi appears beside her, setting yet another thing on top of the tray. “you forgot this.”

“oh! and medicine. thanks, megumi.”

he hums.

and you’re not looking at them—due to, you know, the entire world spinning whenever you turn your head—but you wince anyway.

of course satoru couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

tsumiki sets the tray on the coffee table and she tries to get a look at your face. “does your head hurt?”

you attempt a smile. “no, ‘miki, it’s not too bad. how are you doing?”

“how hard did you hit it?” megumi asks, completely ignoring you and sitting on the opposite side of the couch.

“not too hard.” you say, your stiff muscles relaxing just a bit when tsumiki gives you a chaste kiss on the head.

gojo coughs.

you scowl at him with your eyes closed. “really, it’s nothing. just a bump. i’ll sleep it off.”

satoru then coughs again because he has never taken a hint in his life… or because your glare is less effective without the clear view of murder in your eyes.

tsumiki resumes her trifling of goods, arranging them so you can reach, a tiny frown on her face as she thinks it through.

your brain is too scrambled to think of what to say to either of them; ask them about school, maybe? try and distract them from the black eye you’re surely going to have in the morning?

and it’s not that you don’t appreciate their concern—it’s just that both of the kids get a little… intense when you get hurt.

it’s endearing and also completely heartbreaking.

“do you need a doctor?” tsumiki turns to you, standing on your tiptoes like she’ll be able to see a wound on your head. she inspects your eyes for a second.

“no, ijichi looked me over. don’t worry about it, sweetie.”

“have some water,” megumi nudges a glass towards you, no room for arguing in his tone.

“i brought the smiley-face bandages you like. do you have any cuts?”

“no, i didn’t get—“

“you should put the ice on your bump, too,” megumi adds.

“i—“

tsumiki gasps, jumping back. “is it too bright in here? i‘ll turn off the lights. can you get the windows, megumi?”

and just as fast as the two of them sat down, they’re up again, tending to you like you’re a fragile little bird that fell on their doorstep.

which you kind of did, actually.

your eyes sting as you open them again, tracking the fast movements of both of the kids, looking over the things megumi got over, and then at satoru who is still standing there, grinning a bit, of course.

you try and beg him to help with your eyes but he does nothing. typical.

“guys,” you say, seeing double. “i’m really okay, you don’t need to—“

tsumiki lowers the lights a bit. “is this better? i can turn them all the way off. we have flashlights, right?”

“you should wear gojo’s glasses,” megumi mutters, struggling to reach the blinds. he’s only eight—he’s still growing.

and you’re watching both of them with a burning in the back of your head and a desperation in your heart. now would be the perfect time to teach them about staying calm, about thinking and—

satoru moves then, grabbing megumi by the collar of his shirt and walking over to tsumiki. “okay, children,” he leans down, ignoring megumi’s scowl and tsumiki’s furrowed brows. he lowers his voice. “y/n is very sick. the doctor said she had some freaky, super gross, creepy bug-monster that’s messing with her head.”

“bug what—“

he puts a finger to his lips. “she isn’t supposed to know about it—it’ll only confuse her. but it’s very contagious so both of you have to stay far away. three rooms, at least..”

“she’s really sick?” megumi repeats, looking a bit angry.

at the same time tsumiki says. “but we can help take care of her.”

“such sweet, precious kids,” satoru coos, “but there’s only one person strong enough to be around her right now.”

megumi gives him a blank look, mouth already opening to argue.

satoru pinches the little boy’s cheek before he even gets the chance. “it’s me, of course. i am the strongest. you both just leave this to me and make sure you’re not letting any weird bugs sneak into your head.”

“but we—“

“and you have to keep it a secret. y/n can’t know, okay?”

and because your children are not completely gullible, they both just stare at satoru.

“okay?” satoru peers at them through his eyebrows. he has his crazy eyes on.

“okay,” tsumiki says softly.

“fine,” megumi mumbles.

“great!” satoru clasps his hands together. “now run along, children, i have a patient to tend to.”

and then they both walk down the hallway, giving forlorned looks towards you until they disappear around a corner. it’s cinematic the way it all plays out, really.

satoru returns to you and you sigh, hanging your pounding head. “really?”

“it’s impolite to eavesdrop on other people’s conversations,” satoru tells you like he’s not the worst person on the entire planet.

“they’re just going to be even more worried, now,” you groan, “you basically told them i was dying.”

satoru tilts his head. “i thought we were going to test that window theory?”

you scoff squeezing your eyes shut. “i can’t look at you.”

“because i’m too mesmerizing?” satoru sits down, pressed entirely against you. “yeah, i get that a lot.”

you just let him, unable to defend yourself from him, or from the migraine you’re going to have for at least the next week. you’re not sure which one is worse. “because it’s making me dizzy,” you retort. “the image of you is physically painful. this is awful.”

“as awful as that time that tsumiki puked on the rug and then megumi—“

“satoru,” you whine, turning your head into his shoulder.

his shoulder shake, just a little. “oops, sorry. is that a sensitive subject?”

“now i’m going to puke.”

“just try not to get it in my hair.”

you snort, digging your head into his bone. it kind of helps, actually.

and you wish for a moment that you had never taken that job, that you hadn’t gotten out of bed that morning, or that satoru didn’t have to be all encompassing.

but you don’t really want any of that.

after a moment satoru leans forward, and you open one eye, disturbed.

he reaches out to the table for the ice pack, and then presses it right against your head.

his hand is big enough to cover your entire face.

“how’s that feel?”

“like i’m being suffocated,” you mutter, through his palm, but it does feel slightly soothing.

“hold it,” he says softly. “and you should drink this,” he reaches out again for the water.

“you know you’re not actually a doctor, right?” you ask him, entirely aware that satoru has done nothing. tsumiki and megumi brought you all of these things and he’s just reaping the rewards.

but he is nice to cuddle up to, as steady as ever.

“the memories of concussed people simply can’t be trusted,” he sighs out, like it’s a painful reality.

you laugh. then wince.

satoru must notice this because he places his hand over yours on the ice. “do you wanna lay down?”

you think about it for a moment, unsure if anything will ever feel the same. but you shrug anyway. “i guess.”

“we’ll cuddle,” satoru promises, “it’ll help.”

and then he takes the ice and the water from you, placing them back on the table. he’s gentle as he maneuvers yours legs onto the couch, turning your entire body with a little push.

but he waits a moment in between each movement—letting you adapt to the room, and all of its doubles, before he continues.

“okay, c’mere,” satoru kicks his legs out, pushing you over until you’re smushed between him and the couch. and then he readjusts your arm, moving just slightly so that you’re laying on top of him, instead of beside.

it takes a moment for it all to compute. your eyes roll but once everything stills, you’re just laying on his chest.

“see? better already, huh?”

“you’re warm,” is all you say, laying your arm across his torso.

satoru grabs the ice again, holding it to your head. it’s not a lot, but it feels nice.

“your hand is going to get cold,” you murmur against him. “you need a towel or something.”

“it’s alright. i’ll be fine.”

and it sounds entirely like what you were saying to the kids not even ten minutes ago, but you don’t argue.

“i still have laundry to do.”

“we can buy new clothes.”

it is so tempting to look up at him and verify whether he’s serious—which you’re pretty sure he is—or not.

“satoru.”

“fine,” he shakes his head. “but i’m not folding it all fancy like you do.”

“it’s not fancy, it’s standard. and i’ve shown you that a million times.”

“megumi can do it.”

“megumi is eight and he just got home from school. what have you done all day?”

satoru hums. “well, let’s see… i did my hair, i ignored a couple of calls, got dorayaki, did the laundry, and rescued you from a window,” he whistles. “wow, that was a long day.”

“did you say laundry?”

“…did i say that?”

“satoru.”

“wow. you hit your head pretty hard, huh? you’re mixing up memories already.”

“as soon as my headache is gone, im going to fight you.”

“aww, but i thought i was your headache,” satoru pouts, digging his nose against your temple.

you’re about to say something rightfully cruel, one eye opening to look at him, but you make a face.

“what?”

“tsumiki was right. too bright in here.”

satoru lets one finger graze against your cheek. “here, sit up.”

and despite yourself, you listen. the world creeps in when you move, but satoru holds on to you, keeping your body from toppling over the side of the couch.

he digs beneath one of the couch cushions and then smiles victoriously. “here it is. okay, turn your head.”

you do, and satoru only takes a moment to wrap something around your eyes, tying a knot at the back of your head like he’s been doing it for years.

and then the two of you lay back down, and you’re tucked against him once again.

“how’s that?” satoru asks, fiddling with the edges of the fabric.

“do you just leave a trail of blindfolds wherever you go?”

“well, yeah,” satoru snorts. “how else would you be able to find me?”

your lip quirks and you breathe in, letting every tense muscle relax on top of him. “it smells like you.”

“you’re very welcome,” satoru rests his cheek against your head. “now, shhh. go to sleep and i’ll scare the bug in your head away.”

“will you make sure the kids aren’t freaked out?” you whisper to him, even though it hurts to talk.

“yeah, i’ve got it, sweetheart. don’t worry.”