#Alluring. Swallowing. Always always singing

[blackvahana]

I sat and plucked the strings, I called him in. All his waves, all the tides to the shore. A call so strong, a siren so big, that even the ocean itself is pulled.

Eyes are great spheres with central dots, gelatinous, liquid, strange substances both there and not. Fish eggs, babies seen in the light when held to eclipse the sun. That's what I watched, that's what I called; it wasn't just the sparkling core but the peripheral hagfish expulsions - and those expulsions' expulsions. All the world brought to me, all the limbs held with puppet strings.

I called, he was brought to answering. Fate, mind, thoughts, personality, the repetitive learned states, the state-learning, ideas, future possibilities, the gentleness of flesh, the sharpness of consciousness-bone. Echoes, but simultaneous. Thunder at the same time as lightning, brought together not because one must follow the other but because both were brought together.

I still fail to understand, but at least I understand that that lack of understanding is a willed ignorance born from... understandable things.

There, you said, was the place you last were, just below the surface. When I wake it will be there. This is a Creator's act, a Creator's mind, a Creator's reverence for the Created. Understanding of the Trinity, embodying it. The siren call emanates from the deepest, most fertile underwater volcanoes, the point at which my face presses against the surface.

There was a reason we went up there in the first place. The revelation and self-destruction was wanted all along. Apotheosis, they call it; even those who have reached it need to play this game through again and again and reach it again and again. This is... Old God re-apotheosis, the eyes opening to another truth, more eyes across your scales, more revelatory bliss, and I am that. Nothing is lost when all is lost. All is gained when all is lost. Nothing is lost, all is had. All is had and all is gained.

[ragvas]

Friend´s Little Sister

You hadn't seen Stephany, your friend’s little sister, in years. She used to be this awkward, shy girl who'd always be hiding inside her room when you and her brother were talking about university life. But as she grew older, she blossomed in ways you hadn't expected. Standing in front of you now, she was nothing short of mesmerizing. And... She looked... Taller? You definitely didn´t remember her being 5' 9" (175 cm) tall.

"Hey," she said casually, tossing her dark hair back as she adjusted her tight black top. The fabric clung to her curves like a second skin, accentuating her large C-cup breasts, but it was her ass that really caught your attention. Her hips flared out dramatically, leading into a rear so round and full that it strained against her leggings. She turned slightly, and you couldn't help but follow the curve of her backside as it jiggled ever so slightly with her movement.

Emma caught you staring and smirked. "You’ve noticed, huh?" she teased, her voice low and filled with amusement.

"I—uh," you stammered, your cheeks flushing red.

"It's okay," she said, stepping closer, her hips swaying. "I know it's… grown. A lot."

Your cheeks burned hotter than a summer day as you tried to avert your gaze from the hypnotic sway of Stephany's enhanced assets. She had always been attractive, but now, she was downright captivating. You felt a strange mix of arousal and embarrassment at being caught staring. "Yeah," you managed to murmur, "It's just... it's quite a... transformation."

Her smirk grew wider, and she playfully slapped her hand against her voluminous ass. The sound echoed through the room like a drumbeat, making it quiver slightly. "You like it?" she asked, leaning in closer, her breath warm against your cheek. "It's all thanks to these sweet little blue pills I've been taking. It's supposed to help me, you know, “fill out” in all the right places."

Your heart raced as your eyes darted between her face and her breasts, trying to focus on the conversation while also processing the sudden surge of blood to your groin. The fabric of your pants began to tighten uncomfortably. "I-uh, I mean, it's definitely... noticeable," you stuttered, hoping she wouldn't see the growing bulge.

Stephany chuckled, her eyes glinting with mischief as she took a step closer, her chest brushing against your arm. Her leggings were stretched taut over her hips, and the outline of her panties was clearly visible. "Noticeable?" she repeated, her voice a playful purr. "I was hoping it was a bit more than that." She leaned in closer, her breath tickling your ear. "You know, I've been feeling... different. More powerful, somehow. Like I could take on the world with these new... enhancements."

You swallowed hard, trying to keep your voice steady as you felt her warmth against you. "It's... definitely more than just noticeable, Steph," you admitted, trying to keep your eyes on hers despite the siren's call of her breasts and butt. "I've never seen anyone change so... dramatically so quickly. Are... Are you sure that those... uhm... pills are safe?"

She gripped your arm, and she bit her lip seductively. "Oh, they're safe enough," she assured you, her voice a whisper. "But I'd love to show you the full effects... in my room." With a mischievous glint in her eye, she began leading you up the stairs, her hips swaying more dramatically with each step, her leggings stretching to their limits with every movement.

You followed her, your thoughts racing. The feeling of her hand on your arm sent shivers down your spine. Her newfound confidence was both intimidating and incredibly hot and alluring. "Whh… what do you mean by that?" you asked, trying to play it cool despite your racing heart.

You arrived in front of her room. With a dramatic flourish, she swung open the door, revealing a space that was filled with dancing and singing equipment. Mirrors lined one wall, reflecting the disco ball hanging from the ceiling, casting a kaleidoscope of lights across the floor. A microphone stand and a set of speakers were set up in one corner, while a large dance mat took up a good portion of the floor. The walls were plastered with posters of various pop divas, their powerful stances and fierce expressions seemingly watching over the room. "Welcome to my baby room," she purred, releasing your arm and walking over to the dance mat. "This is where I come to... let loose."

Your eyes scanned the room, taking in the vibrant posters and the various pieces of exercise equipment scattered about. Then, you spotted something peculiar on the vanity - a white bottle with bold blue letters reading "MILF MAX." Your curiosity piqued, you took a step closer, reaching out to pick it up. "What's this?" you asked, holding the bottle up. The pills inside rattled slightly, drawing your attention to the exaggerated promise it made.

Stephany turned to you, her smile growing even more wicked. She sauntered over, hips rolling with each step, and took the bottle from your hand. "Those are my blue little secrets," she said, popping the cap open and shaking a pill out into her palm. "One pill a day, and watch the magic happen," she said, her voice echoing through the room. "Want to see?"

You nodded, your curiosity piqued even further. You watched as she placed the pill in her mouth, her lips closing around it with a seductive pop. "What exactly do they do?" you asked, trying to ignore the way your body was reacting to her.

With a dramatic flourish, she swallowed the pill, her Adam's apple bobbing in her neck. She stepped closer, her eyes locked on yours, the intensity in them making your knees feel a bit weak. "They make me grow," she murmured, her hand caressing the curve of her hip. "And not just here," she added, giving her ass another playful slap, "but everywhere."

Your eyes widened as you took a step back, trying to process her words. You felt a mix of excitement and apprehension. "Everywhere?" you echoed, your voice a bit higher than usual. "What do you mean?"

Her eyes danced with excitement as she stepped closer again, the gap between you and her shrinking. She placed her hand on your chest, her fingers splaying out. "In every way a woman can. And it feels... amazing," she whispered.

You felt her hand press firmly against you, the heat of her palm seeping through your shirt. Her words were like a siren's song, and you found yourself leaning in despite the alarm bells ringing in your mind.

Stephany's breath grew ragged as the pill began to take effect. Her pupils dilated, and a soft blush spread through her cheeks. She stepped closer, her breasts pressing against your chest as she looked up at you with a mix of excitement and hunger in her eyes.

"Every time I take one of these," she whispered, her voice a sultry purr, "I feel like I could conquer the world. And right now, I want to start with you." With a seductive smile, she reached up to kiss you, her soft, plump lips meeting yours with surprising force.

Your body responded instinctively, your arms wrapping around her as the kiss deepened. You felt the softness of her breasts pushing into your chest, and you couldn't help but groan into the kiss. Her tongue danced with yours, and you were totally lost in the moment.

Suddenly, you felt a strange sensation, like your body was being pushed back slightly. You pulled away from the kiss, panting, and looked down to see her body expanding before your eyes. Her leggings and top stretched tauter, straining against her newfound size as she grew from a C-cup to a D. Her height shot up to 6 feet (183 cm). She chuckled, a deep, throaty sound, and placed her hand on her chest, watching in amazement as her breasts grew even larger.

"It's happening," she murmured, her eyes never leaving yours. "You're going to love this." With a wink, she leaned in for another kiss, her body continuing to expand. You felt her power, her dominance, and it was intoxicating.

You couldn't help but stare as her body grew larger, your own desires growing with her. Her breasts swelled, pushing against the fabric of her top, now an E-cup. You felt your own body responding, your heart racing.

Her hand slid up to your neck, her grip firm as she pulled you closer. Her kiss grew more demanding, and you felt your resolve crumbling. "You like what you see?" she whispered, her voice now deeper and more commanding. She took a step back, her chest heaving with excitement. Her leggings finally gave way, tearing at the seams as her ass ballooned to massive proportions. She was now easily 6' 2" (188 cm) tall.

You nodded, your throat dry. "It's... incredible," you murmured, unable to tear your eyes away from her transformation.

Her laugh was a deep, resonant sound that seemed to fill the room as she stepped back further. The fabric of her shirt and bra gave way with an audible rip, exposing her breasts now swollen to a F-cup. She cupped them in her hands, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "And it's just the beginning," she promised, her voice a seductive growl.

Her gaze dropped to the bulge in your pants, her grin widening. "Looks like someone's enjoying the show," she said, licking her lips. "Why don't you come closer?" She beckoned with a finger, her eyes never leaving your crotch.

You stepped closer, your eyes drawn to her breasts, now a F-cup, heavy and round, the dark areolae and nipples standing proudly. You felt yourself getting harder, the anticipation building.

Her hand reached out, her long fingers tracing the outline of your erection causing you to moan softly. She giggled at the way your body responded to her. "It's like you're growing too," she said, her voice a mix of tease and awe. "But I'm not done yet." With another popping of the pill bottle, she swallowed another pill, her eyes never leaving yours.

You watched, heart racing, as she grew before you. Her breasts swelled further, now a G-cup, and her height shot up to 6' 8" (202 cm). You could feel the power radiating from her, the very air around her thick with the scent of her pheromones. "Steph..." you breathed, unable to fully comprehend the situation.

"Oh, it's just getting good," she said, her voice now a powerful rumble that seemed to shake the very floor beneath you. Her hand trailed down to the button of her torn leggings, which she undid with a flick of her wrist. The material gave way to reveal her panties, which were now stretched to the breaking point over her newfound size. She stepped out of the ruined fabric, standing before you in just her panties and the shreds of her top.

With another sultry smile, she reached behind her back, her fingers deftly unhooking her damaged bra. It fell away, and her huge breasts bounced, now completely free. The sight of them, so full and heavy, was almost too much to bear. She placed her hands on her hips, the fabric of her panties straining against the pressure of her ass, which had grown so large it was like two basketballs stuffed into a pillowcase.

You stared, your eyes glued to the hypnotic jiggle of her G-cup breasts, the weight of them making your own desires grow stronger. "Steph..." you breathed again, reaching out tentatively to touch the soft flesh.

Her skin was hot to the touch, and she gasped as you made contact, her body shivering with pleasure. "Yes," she encouraged, taking another step closer, her breasts brushing against your chest. "Feel how powerful I've become."

Your hand cupped her breast gently, feeling the weight and warmth of it. The sensation was overwhelming, and you couldn't help but knead it gently, your thumb circling her nipple. "It's... unbelievable," you murmured, your voice thick with lust.

Her eyes closed in pleasure at your touch, a soft moan escaping her lips. She arched her back, pushing her chest into your hand. "It's all yours," she whispered, her voice a seductive purr. "But don't stop there."

Her hand trailed down to her panties, sliding them down her thick, powerful thighs. She stepped out of the fabric, and you could see the wetness glistening on her skin. She was fully naked before you now, her body a tower of feminine might and beauty. Her ass had ballooned even more, reaching a staggering size that you couldn't even comprehend.

"Look at me," she said, her voice a command that sent a thrill through your body. "Look at what these pills have done to me. And now," she leaned in, her breath hot against your neck, "now I'm going to show you just how powerful I really am."

Her hand guided yours down to her pussy, her fingers slipping over yours to show you how to touch her. She was slick with arousal, and the feeling of her wetness was like a drug, making your head spin. "See?" she whispered, her breath hot and needy. "You can't resist me."

With a growl of passion, she pushed you back on her bed, her massive body looming over you. She straddled you, her swollen breasts hanging down, the heavy weight of them pressing against your chest. Her ass was now so large that it made your legs below her seem tiny in comparison, each cheek round and full, filling much of the space around her with its soft, overwhelming presence. "I want you," she murmured, her voice thick with desire.

Your hands roamed over her body, exploring the new landscape of curves and power. You felt the heat between your legs as her pussy pressed against your thigh, wet and demanding. "I want you too," you whispered, your voice hoarse with need.

Her eyes darkened, and she leaned in to kiss you again, her breasts enveloping your chest. You could feel her excitement, her desire to dominate and overwhelm you. She reached down, her hand wrapping around your erection, and you groaned into her mouth.

"Mmm, you're so hard for me," she murmured against your lips, stroking you slowly through your pants. "It's like you were made to worship me." She sat up, her breasts bouncing slightly, and began to unbutton your shirt, her movements deliberate and sensual.

With a final tug, she pulled your shirt open, revealing your bare chest to the cool air. She leaned in, her warm breath caressing your skin as she kissed and licked her way down your torso. Her touch was electric, sending jolts of pleasure through your body.

As you felt her warm, wet mouth on your skin, a sudden surge of power filled the room. With a guttural groan of pure ecstasy, Stephany's body grew again, stretching and expanding before your very eyes. She was now a towering mini giantess at 7 feet (214 cm), her breasts swelling to a massive H-cup, the weight of them now unbearable for any mere mortal bra. Her thighs thickened, her hips widened, and her ass grew even more voluminous, the cheeks now so large that they could have easily swallowed a beach ball.

Her movements grew more insistent, her hips started rocking back and forth against your bulge, the pressure increasing with every movement. The fabric of your pants was the only barrier between her flesh and yours, and it was clear she was growing more and more impatient. Her moans grew louder, each one a declaration of the power she now wielded. The pressure of her body was incredible, and you felt yourself getting harder and harder as she grew on you.

Her body began to expand again, her ass and thighs thickening and growing more powerful with each pulse of the pill's potent magic. She grew to a staggering 7' 4" (224 cm), her legs now thick, powerful pillars that could crush you with a single mighty squeeze.

You felt a mix of fear and exhilaration as she grew larger, her massive H-cup breasts swaying with each movement. The fabric of your pants strained against the pressure of her weight, and you realized you were utterly at her mercy. "Steph," you panted.

Her eyes snapped open, and she looked down at you with a grin that was both mischievous and triumphant. "You're mine," she murmured, her hand sliding into your pants to grip your erection directly. You gasped as she began to stroke you, her touch firm and confident. "Say it," she demanded, her voice now a powerful command.

You felt yourself on the brink of giving in to her completely, your body responding to her touch with a fervor you'd never experienced before. "I... a... ah..." you panted, your hips bucking up against her hand.

Her grip tightened, her strokes growing more insistent. Her eyes were dark with lust as she watched your reactions. "Say it," she repeated, her voice a low growl. "Say you're mine."

You could feel the pressure building, both from her hand and from the sheer presence of her overwhelming body. With a strangled moan, you nodded. "Y-yes... Steph... I... I'm yours." The words slipped out of your mouth like a confession you hadn't known you'd been holding back.

Her eyes blazed with power, and she leaned down to whisper in your ear. "Good little boy," she said, her breath hot and sweet. "Your giant goddess will fuck you now." Before you could react, she grabbed the bottle of "MILF MAX" and popped another pill into her mouth, swallowing it with a grin.

With a swift movement that belied her massive size, she sat up and gripped the waistband of your pants and underwear. With a powerful tug, she ripped the fabric as if it were tissue paper. Your erection sprang free, standing tall and proud before her. She chuckled, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Looks like my little growth spurt is having quite the effect on you," she said, her voice filled with a mix of amusement and desire.

You looked down at your exposed self, feeling both embarrassed and oddly thrilled by her words. Her hand was so much larger than it had been, and you felt like a toy in her grasp. "Little?" you echoed, your voice trembling slightly. "W... what do you mean? You grew so big..."

"Oh, darling," she giggled, her voice a rich, velvety purr that seemed to resonate in the very air around you. "You think this is big?" With a playful smack to her massive H-cup breasts, she leaned in closer, the heat of her breath sending a shiver down your spine. "This is just the beginning," she whispered, her eyes flashing with a fierce hunger that sent a thrill through your body.

Her hand slid down to your erection, her touch firm and commanding. "But let's not get ahead of ourselves," she said, her eyes never leaving yours. With a seductive smile, she leaned back, her breasts swaying like pendulums with the motion. Her hand kept stroking you, her pace deliberate and tantalizing. "First, let's get you ready for what's to come," she murmured, her voice a siren's song that made your blood race.

You watched, your eyes glazed over with desire, as her hand worked its magic. You could feel the tension building within you, and you knew it wouldn't be long before you reached the peak. "What... What's going to come?" you managed to ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

Her hand continued its rhythmic motion, her gaze locked on yours. "You're about to find out," she said with a knowing smile. "But first, I need you to be... just the right size." With that, she took another pill, her eyes never leaving your face. You watched in awe as her body grew once more, her breasts swelling to an unbelievable I-cup, her ass reaching a size that seemed to defy the very laws of physics.

Now towering at 7' 8" (234 cm), she was a true giantess, and the power emanating from her was palpable. The room seemed to shrink around her, making her even more intimidating. Yet, there was a softness in her eyes, a tenderness that belied the dominance of her form. "Ready for your first taste?" she asked, her voice a seductive whisper.

You nodded, unable to find your voice, as she positioned herself over you. Her breasts, now a monstrous I-cup, hung down, the weight of them seemingly crushing the very air between you. Your body trembled with anticipation.

"Good," she murmured, her eyes glittering with excitement. She leaned in closer, her breasts enveloping your face, the sweet scent of her arousal filling your nostrils. "Now, worship your goddess little man," she whispered, her voice a command that resonated through your very soul.

You felt the weight of her massive breasts pressing down on you, the sensation overwhelming and exhilarating. Your hands instinctively reached out to cup the soft, warm flesh, the feeling of her power making your head spin.

Her body grew even larger, now standing at an intimidating 8 feet (244 cm) tall. Her I-cup breasts had swelled to a J-cup, the weight of them now unbearable for any mere mortal. She leaned down, her huge nipples brushing against your lips. "Suck on them," she instructed, her voice a powerful command that sent a shiver down your spine. "Worship me."

Your mouth opened, and you eagerly latched onto one of her massive nipples, sucking it gently. The taste of her sweet soft skin, the feel of her sexy body against yours, was intoxicating. You could feel her power growing, her breathing becoming heavier.

Her moan of pleasure was a symphony in your ears as you obeyed her command. She arched her back, her breasts swelling even larger in your hands, now a K-cup, as she grew to 8' 2" (249 cm). The pressure of her body was immense, but it only served to fuel your desire.

With a wicked grin, she pulled away, leaving your mouth wet and desperate for more. "You like that?" she taunted, her breasts now swaying with her every move. "But I want you to see what else I can do." She leaned back, her hand sliding down to her pussy, her fingers toying with her clit. The sight was mesmerizing, and you watched, unable to tear your gaze away.

Her body grew once more, the pill's magic working its way through her. Now standing at 8' 6" (260 cm), her ass had reached unbelievable proportions, stretching the very fabric of reality. Her breasts grew to a staggering L-cup, each one heavy and full, the weight of them pulling her torso down slightly. "You see this?" she said, her hand cupping one of her massive orbs. "It's all for you."

You nodded, your eyes wide with amazement, as you watched her grow larger and more powerful. Your cock throbbed in anticipation, and you felt your body responding to her dominance. "It's... incredible," you managed to murmur, your voice trembling.

Her eyes gleamed with satisfaction at your reaction. "I knew you'd love it," she said, her voice now a deep, resonant purr. She leaned in closer, her L-cup breasts now brushing against your chest with each breath she took. "But we're not done yet." With that, she took another pill, her body spasming slightly with the influx of power.

Her body grew even more, reaching a staggering 8' 10" (269 cm), her breasts now a voluminous M-cup. She positioned herself over you, her legs straddling your waist. With a knowing smile, she reached behind and guided your erection to her dripping wet entrance, the heat of her pussy making you gasp. "Ready?" she asked, her voice a seductive whisper. She lowered herself down, her pussy enveloping you in a warm, tight embrace. You felt yourself being swallowed whole as she took you in, her moans growing louder with each descent. "Oh god, you feel so good," she murmured, her eyes fluttering shut as she grew even larger, her body adjusting to the new sensation.

Her movements grew more deliberate, each stroke of her hips sending waves of pleasure through your body. You could feel her thick, powerful thighs against yours, the pressure of her massive M-cup breasts against your chest as they grew even larger, now an N-cup. She was like a living, breathing sex goddess, and you were her devoted worshipper. The sight of her was mesmerizing, her body a landscape of curves and power. Her eyes remained closed, lost in the ecstasy of her own growth. She took another pill, her moan vibrating through you as her pussy tightened around you. The room filled with the sound of her pleasure, her ass now so large it could have easily filled an armchair all on its own, jiggling with each movement.

You couldn't believe the sensation of being inside her, her tightness and warmth enveloping you as she grew even larger. Each pulse of the pill's power seemed to amplify the feeling, making you more and more desperate for release. You felt your orgasm building, the pressure in your balls becoming unbearable. "Oh, Steph... I'm going to... I'm going to..." you managed to get out between gasps.

Her eyes snapped open, and she looked down at you with a look of pure, unbridled power. Her massive N-cup breasts, now swollen to O-cup proportions, swayed with each movement of her hips, casting shadows on your face. A wicked smile played on her lips as she took in the sight of you beneath her, tiny and helpless. She leaned down, her heavy breasts pressing into your chest, her breath warm on your face. "You're mine," she whispered, her voice a seductive growl. "Say it." She took another pill, her body spasming with the influx of power, growing to 9' 1" (277 cm), her ass now so massive it filled the space behind her like a mountain. Her O-cup breasts grew even more, the weight of them now a delicious burden that seemed to press you further into the bed. The room was filled with the sound of her body expanding, the fabric of the bed straining and popping as she grew.

You felt the weight of her body, the pressure of her breasts, and the power of her dominance. The reality of the situation washed over you in waves, leaving you trembling with both fear and unbridled lust. "I... I'm yours," you gasped out, your voice shaking as you felt her pussy tighten around you.

Her smile grew even more wicked as she felt your submission. She leaned down, her P-cup breasts pressing into your chest, her nose almost touching yours. "That's a good boy," she murmured, her voice now a powerful growl. "Look at you, so tiny compared to me." She sat up, her massive body casting a large shadow over you. "Remember when I was just a little girl looking up at you and my brother?" She giggled, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Now, I could crush you both with my giant ass."

Your body was pinned under the weight of her colossal form, your hips desperately trying to buck upwards to meet hers, seeking release. But it was futile, like trying to move a mountain. The feeling of her massive thighs, thick as tree trunks, against your sides was overwhelming, trapping you beneath her. The pressure of her swollen pussy around your cock was driving you insane with pleasure. You looked up at her, her eyes glazed with lust, and you could see the pill-induced euphoria painting a picture of dominance across her face.

With a throaty chuckle, Stephany looked down at you, her eyes gleaming with a mix of amusement and desire. She leaned back slightly, the weight of her P-cup breasts pulling at her chest and began to playfully swirl her fingers around her large engorged nipples. Each movement sent a jolt of pleasure through your body, making your cock throb within her. Her smile grew wider, a knowing glint in her eyes. "Look how weak you are," she taunted, her voice a seductive purr. "You can't even make me move.

With another sly smile, she took another pill, her body convulsing with the sheer power of the transformation. She grew even more, reaching a staggering 9' 4" (285 cm) with breasts that had swollen to a Q-cup. Her ass was so large that it looked as if it could swallow you whole, and the pressure against the bed was now intense enough to crack the frame.

Her eyes never leaving yours, she whispered the question with a smirk. "Do you want me to make you cum?" The question hung in the air, thick with the promise of what was to come. Her hand slid down to her pussy, her fingers playing with the wetness that coated her folds.

You nodded frantically, unable to form words as the pressure built within you. The sight of her playing with herself was too much to handle. "Yes... please... make me... cum," you begged, your voice trembling with need.

Her eyes lit up at your words, and she leaned in closer, her massive Q-cup breasts threatening to suffocate you. Her voice was a purr, a promise of untold pleasure. "Do you accept me as your goddess?" she asked, her hand still working her clit with expert precision.

You nodded, the fear and excitement mingling into something you had never felt before. "Yes," you managed to murmur, the word barely escaping the vice of her breasts. "I accept you as my goddess." The room around you felt like it was spinning as she grew yet again, reaching a towering 9' 8" (295 cm), her breasts swelling to an R-cup. Her thighs were like steel, trapping you beneath her, and her ass was so large that just one of her massive cheeks was larger than your torso.

Her eyes flared with power, and she took another pill, her body stretching and growing even more. Her breasts grew to an unbelievable S-cup, and she was now whole 10 feet (305 cm) tall. She leaned back, her hands on her hips, watching you with a predatory gaze as she began to grind her hips in a slow, torturous circle. "Then worship me," she demanded, her voice a thunderclap that echoed in the tiny space between you. "Beg for your release."

You felt so insignificant beneath her, your body responding to her every move with a mix of fear and lust. "Please, Goddess," you begged, the words feeling right on your lips. "Please let me cum inside you..." The pressure was unbearable, and you felt yourself slipping away, your body a vessel for her pleasure. You reached up, your hands trembling, to cup the undersides of her massive S-cup breasts, feeling the weight of her power in the heft of her flesh.

Her eyes narrowed, and she took another pill, her body growing to a staggering 10' 2" (310 cm) with breasts that had swelled to a T-cup. The room was now filled with the sound of her breathing, heavy and needy, her chest heaving with the effort of containing her new size. She leaned down, her breasts enveloping you, the weight of them pressing you into the bed. "Call me Goddess," she murmured, her voice a dark promise. "And maybe I'll give you what you want."

You felt the pill's power rushing through her, her pussy tightening around you. "Please, Goddess," you panted, your voice a desperate whine. "I'll do anything." Your hands slid up to her giant breasts, feeling the softness of her skin, the weight of her power.

Her grin grew even more wicked, and she leaned down, her massive T-cup breasts enveloping your face. "Say it," she demanded, her voice a powerful growl. "Say you're mine and you'll never leave me."

You nodded, overwhelmed by the sheer power of her body, her breasts pressing into your face like soft, warm pillows. "I'm yours," you murmured, your voice muffled by the flesh that surrounded you. "Goddess." The word slipped out, feeling so right in that moment. Your hands gripped her breasts, feeling their weight, the sensation of being dominated by her overwhelming size sending shivers of pleasure through your body. You felt her hips tense, her muscles rippling like a sculpture of pure sexuality, and then she took you over the edge. Your orgasm hit like a tidal wave, your body arching off the bed as she swelled to a massive 10' 6" (320 cm), her breasts reaching a voluminous U-cup.

With a deep, satisfied sigh, she leaned back, her breasts lifting off your face. You looked up at her in awe, your vision blurry with lust. Her skin was flushed, her eyes dark with pleasure. "You like that?" she asked, her voice a low, seductive purr. "You like being dominated by your giant goddess?" She took another pill, her body stretching and growing until she stood at 11 feet (335 cm), her breasts now an enormous V-cup.

Your body felt like jelly beneath hers, the intensity of your orgasm still reverberating through you. "Yes, Goddess," you murmured, your voice shaky with pleasure. "I love it." You watched in amazement as she grew larger, her W-cup breasts now heavy and pendulous, their weight seemingly too much for the bed to handle. The room was filled with the scent of her arousal, and you could feel her power growing with every inch she gained.

"Mmm, I'm so glad," she cooed, her voice a rich, velvety purr that seemed to resonate within your very soul. Her eyes gleamed with excitement as she glanced at the bottle of pills. "You're going to love what I have planned for us." She leaned over, cradling your face in her massive hands, her touch surprisingly gentle despite her enormous size.

"Mmm," she purred, pressing her plush, full lips to yours in a kiss that left you breathless. You felt utterly captivated, helpless under her spell. Every movement, every breath she took seemed to draw you deeper into her intoxicating embrace.

Gazing down at you with a look that was both tender and possessive, Stephany smiled. "This is only the beginning," she murmured, her voice low and resonant. "We'll experience pleasures beyond anything you've ever dreamed of."

And as she wrapped her arms around you, her towering form engulfing you in warmth, you felt yourself surrendering completely, ready to follow her wherever this thrilling journey would lead.

-----

You can find more like this at my deviantart. 😊

Link: https://www.deviantart.com/ragvas

[floatyflowers]

Dark Platonic! Father Merman x Human! Reader

Adrian, instead of going mating with another Mermaid and having his baby.

He decides to lure you, a human child of seven to come with him.

It's really easy, considering how you like 'The Little Mermaid' and thought that Adrian was like Ariel.

But, in reality, his species are cannibalistic and evil creatures.

However, he is kind of like Ariel, as he is a prince, son of the king of the oceans and seas.

It didn't take long for him to drag you into the water, and have you swallow a potion to allow you to breathe under water.

At first he tries to feed you raw fish, but when you got sick he decided to switch your diet to only fruits and seaweeds.

Adrian would sing you to sleep, using his alluring voice.

The same voice he uses to hunt down his preys.

Your new father, safeguards you as if you were a treasure, he fears that the sharks might eat you.

That's why he always assigns one of his mermaid friends to stay with while he goes hunting.

One time, you tried to swim back to the surface, but unfortunately, he caught you in time.

Adrian manipulated you into believing that he is your real father and your biological parents are not your real parents but thieves who stole you from him.

"You have to always listen to me, as your father, I know what's best for you"

[yandere-sins]

Monstober - Day 8: Merfolk [Elemental Sacrifices Part 3/4]

Work's been draining me of my strength, but I will not abandon my beloved challenge! Especially not on my beloved Mermaids ♥

Also, I am dedicating to that one person who loved the Mermay polls so much and didn't care about the yandere because they got to be a mermaid. I still remember you, and I thought about you while writing this!

Prompt: Merfolk | Water // Singing // Alluring Warnings: Yandere, Sexual Content (Dub-Con, Throat-fucking with a tentacle, Swallowing copious amounts of an "essence"), Long Post, Tentacles, Mermaids, Monster + Description

"Very beautiful. I am very pleased."

Nodding, you forced a smile on your face, looking up at the behemoth of a god before you. Waves crashed against the little platform that served as a stage for the sacrifices to perform on, a couple hundred feet from the mainland. The water seemed angry, lashing out at you, soaking your beautifully beaded gown as it swept over the edge of the stone and tried to wash you off.

But there was nowhere to fall, you were surrounded.

Writhing tentacles sloshed around and wrung out of the depths of the ocean, their movements so unpredictable, it had complicated your performance. Sometimes, they came so close to you that it made your voice shake, the sounds completely clogged in your throat as they brushed against you once, but they were mainly wrapped around the altar in endlessly sprawling amounts.

The only reassurance you got from the growths around you was that your family wouldn't have to see your eventual demise. You knew they were there, at the shore, waiting with the other people of your tribe to witness whether their god would be pleased by the sacrifice they had offered or not. You tried not to think about the tears your mother had willed away, the softest of hugs from your father before he let you board the boat that would take you away from them.

Sacrificing their loved one seemed much too cruel, while this god didn't.

Sure, if his size was any indication, he was frightening. A creature to be revered or be swallowed whole by. The scars littering his body indicated that he was a warrior, and seeing them made you realize there must be creatures beyond your knowledge that could put scars on such a being. He wouldn't go down easily, so your people worshipped him instead.

But on the other hand, he had leaned onto the platform and closed his eyes throughout your song, really taking in your singing like no one had before. His sharp teeth were scary, but his smile reached his eyes, and even though his hands had sharp claws, he didn't rush you to start singing when you were frozen up at first, gently encouraging you to present your song when you were ready.

If you were going by human standards, he didn't seem like a bad person.

The side of his clawed finger pressed against your cheek, smushing it softly, capturing your attention again as your mind had drifted off. That's just how comfortably he felt, yet you were alarmed by your own recklessness. He smiled down at you, but it almost seemed sad.

"I envy you so," the merman said, eyes dulling as he gripped his throat. "One of your people's ships managed to damage my own vocal cords, so I can't sing anymore. I listen to the sounds of the ocean every day, but it doesn't compare to the beautiful songs of your kind."

A knot formed in the pit of your stomach, and you felt terrible as the creature told you about his woes. "I wish to listen to them always," he sighed, staring longingly back at the shore; some people gathered there, gasping and shrieking in horror at the sudden attention they had gained from their god.

"The ones of you humans, and these creatures that fly in the sky, singing all day long as they please. But I cannot follow them, can't leave my waters to seek them out."

"You... you mean birds?" you asked, the conversation feeling a little one-sided with only him speaking. His eyes lit up as you mentioned them and he gave you a quick nod before lowering down again, resting his head on his hands.

"Sometimes they fly over the ocean, and I get to watch them, but they do not compare to you either. Your voice makes my hearts flutter, it tingles over my skin. It reminds me of how beautiful it is to live in this world that cannot return what has been taken from me. It would be a pity to take you, too."

A few beats of your comparably small heart, the god of water simply watched you, smile fading as he thought. His tentacles wrapped over the platform, slowly coming to a halt as they clenched it in their hold.

"Tell me, little bird, do you wish your sacrifice to be eternal? Don't you wish to stay with me instead and sing to your little heart's content? I didn't offer this chance to the ones before you, for I was still so distraught over the pain your kind has caused. I did not want to take them with me, but I do for you. You have changed me, and I'll have you by my side instead of making you a sacrifice if this is what you desire, too."

Your breath hitched as you took in the deal you were being offered. One that would not seal your fate and end in the death of yet another poor soul. All you wanted to do for as long as you could remember was to sing and make people happy, you didn't realize you were tying the noose around your neck tighter with every performance until your sacrifice was announced.

"But..." you mumbled, staring at the gap filled with water between his body and the stone. You had a secret that you had never shared before, and although staying alive sounded so much more favorable, you knew it was just that: too good to be true.

"But I'm only human. I can't live where you live, and my life is shorter than yours, so I won't be able to stay with you forever, even if I were to find a way to be with you. And besides, the ocean... it scares me. I fear it almost as much as death, as it seems to want to swallow me every time I look at it."

His face scrunched up as you explained your plight, unhappiness being written across as you refused his generosity. Still, it quickly turned into a blank look you couldn't read. "It's no problem," the merman explained, the corners of his lips curling back into a grin.

One of his tentacles rose high in the air, and as it lowered itself, you realized it was clutching something between its tip and the rest of the growth. You held up your hands as it came to a halt in front of you, expecting something, and it dropped a surprisingly small vial with a glowing substance into your waiting palms.

"My mother gave me this in case I find something worth keeping. To make it like me and take it for myself. You'll only need to drink this and then some of my essence, and you'll be able to live with me beyond the surface."

"Oh..." you mumbled, still feeling hesitant as you watched the glowing, light blue fluid slosh around inside the glass vial as if it had a life on its own. The god your people had submitted to seemed to be on a level of preparedness you didn't expect. That, frankly, didn't seem like a coincidence. But you found yourself overthinking as you were overcome with fear and dread.

"You don't want to? Do you want to die, my little bird?" the merman asked, staring down at you with the expectant eyes of someone who knew he won. Because whether you choose to be eaten or to become what he wanted from you, both options were in his favor, even if he preferred one over the other. Your eyes fell to the ever-so-angry water spraying everywhere as it collided with the stone. You remembered being caught in it, sinking deeper and deeper, swallowed whole by the darkness and endless wetness, unable to escape the hungry maw of the ocean when you were a child. You had been lucky then, somehow managing to wake up again at the shore, but you couldn't count on your luck to strike again.

"I will protect you from the darkness you fear, I promise. I will cradle you in my body so nothing can get to you."

He laid his palm at your back, supporting you as you wobbled, weak in the knees after remembering your childhood trauma. Before you knew it, you were swept off your feet, either by the dizziness you felt or the hand at your back. Either way, you found yourself sitting in his palm, being lifted off the altar, the slightest sound reaching your ears as the people gasped.

Surely, everyone was thinking you were about to be eaten, causing their trembling voices to cry out, and you felt something break inside of you, thinking about your poor parents. Hastily, you uncorked the vial, not overthinking what exactly you were swallowing as you placed the glass against your lips, the fluids slipping right in. It barely had any taste, but it was almost like you had swallowed some kind of slimy porridge, causing you to gag.

The merman's grin widened as you felt your body heat up just seconds after consuming the sludge, a shudder going through you as the world seemed so much colder all of a sudden. "There, there, what a good human you were," he murmured, patting your head with one of his giant fingers. "Drink this now, my lovely songbird, we can't have you dry out like one of the poor fishies."

Heat threatened to overwhelm you as you clutched your stomach. Everything was cramping while your legs prickled as if thousands of needles were trying to push out of your skin. Breathing was hard, focusing was harder, so when something wet and eager pushed against your lips, you didn't have the strength to resist.

Your throat immediately accepted the salty fluids rushing in, gulping them up as if it was the first drink you had ever received in your whole life. Your hands latched onto the squirmy supplier of the only substance that was able to calm whatever was going on inside your body. It explored your mouth, pressing left and right into your cheeks as if to make space for more of its length and slipping down your throat until it was satisfied.

Tears brimmed your eyes as more and more of the wet was spewed down your throat, hoping it wouldn't accidentally suffocate you. The fluids swelled your stomach, but you couldn't stop drinking more of the antidote. The salty turned into sweet the more your tongue lapped it up, and as it was the last lifeline you had to save you from the side effects of the vial, you were eager for more.

Whatever it was you were drinking, it gave back your senses to you, allowing the shudder that went through the merman to not go unnoticed. Followed right after with a soft sigh, you finally blinked out of the haze, realizing that it was a tentacle you were clutching onto, one latched deeply in your throat.

Panic rose, and your gaze wandered over to the lovestruck face of god feeding you his essence as if stuck in a weird ritual. His hand clasped over his mouth, and you watched as he bit down on his knuckle with his razor-sharp teeth, staring at you as if he had never seen something quite so fantastic. It felt wrong to be an object of devotion when he was the one that should have been worshipped.

"I'm sorry, did I go overboard?" he moaned. "You took that so well, I couldn't stop thinking about how... No, here, let me get it out, my little bird. I can't have your vocal chords be destroyed like mine."

Only as the tentacle slowly pulled from your throat did you realize how deep it had crept, every inch more painful than the other, as if it had wanted to leave your human body caved out. That was the feeling you got as you doubled over, the tentacle popping from your lips, coughs and gags that had to cover a lot of space following.

You couldn't hold all of his essence inside, and to your absolute horror, it was a pitch-black muck that dripped from your lips, smearing all over your body, dripping down your chin, and landing on your legs.

Your legs?

Even though it caused you to cough even more violently, you shrieked at the sight of your gone legs, replaced by blue scales the color of the merman's eyes and a long, heavy tail. When you slapped it out of sheer disbelief, you felt the pain in both your palm and that tail that seemed so out of place. You couldn't associate with it at all! But trying to move around only caused you to fall over in the creature's palm as the tail was too heavy, your body completely unsuited to heave its weight.

"What... What did you do?!" you gasped in horror as you watched scales protrude from your arms as well. You didn't need to see them to feel their presence all over your torso, and your throat hurt even more as you tried to scratch the discomfort there, noticing the large indents on each side of your neck.

"I made you mine," he chuckled blissfully, not at all worried or concerned with your change. "And now I will do as I promised and take you to my cave, where you will live with me and sing me your beautiful songs, little bird."

His body moved, rising even higher out of the water, and although his hand was steady, you were shaken, clinging to the ridges in his palm. "I'm not ready!" you yelled out, a rush of nausea overcoming you as you thought about the wet together with your inability to move well. Surely, you'd drown if he were to put you in the water!

"It'll be fine," he reassured you.

"You are so small, nothing will notice you where we are going. There are much bigger creatures lurking in these depths, but you. You will be safe as long as you stick with me. I can protect you from them, as have I with your little humanfolk. Although it is not your humanfolk anymore, you are seaborn now."

Pinching his fingers around your waist, you were lifted from his palm, your god smiling brightly at you. You tried to wiggle, his hold almost crushing, although he tried to be gentle. Beneath you was the dooming, hungry sea, waiting to swallow you again, and below your waist was a body you couldn't control.

You looked into his eyes, the blue reflecting that of the ocean, relentless, greedy, and full of unbending confidence that he was doing what was right. Maybe being eaten would have been more merciful, you thought, not knowing what awaited you beneath the surface. His body fell back, and you two sank into the water, his voice a solemn declaration against the splashing of water around you.

"Now, you have all eternity to sing your songs and be mine."

[yoonia]

overdrive (m) | B.I

⤑ Summary | As his personal manager who always works closely with him in both his professional activities and private matters, it has become one of your duties to cater to his needs, to always be on his beck and call, even if you have to put aside your own needs to please him.

⤑ Title | Overdrive ⤑ Pairings | Kim Hanbin (B.I) x female reader ⤑ Genre | PWP, Smut, Artist/Musician!B.I, Manager!reader ⤑ Word count | 13,345 words

⤑ Ratings & Warnings | +18 / M for Mature; involves mature and explicit sex scenes, including: sexual tension, groping, stripping/nudity, breast play, hand job, oral sex (male receiving/blowjob), deepthroating, unprotected sex, public sex, tour bus sex, accidental voyeurism, rough sex, praise kink, dirty talk, hair pulling (on both), edging, begging, swearing, breast play, nipple play, panty ripping, fingering, clit play, finger licking, cum tasting/eating, cum swallowing, biting, light restraint, implied creampie, panty biting(?), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, aftercare, body worshipping.

⤑ Main Masterlist | Taglist | Feedback | Mailbox | Ko-fi

⟶ Read on AO3

⤑ Story Notes | Written in 2nd person POV (in case you’re new to my writing, I don’t use ‘y/n’ coding as all of my lead characters are considered as OCs). This story is purely a work of fiction, with the usage of artist’s/idol’s names as fictional characters. Any similarities in the usage of names for other characters and circumstances are purely coincidental. | PS. This is only roughly edited, but I hope you’ll still enjoy reading the story. 

It feels like only moments ago this place was thriving with raw energy.

Loud music was blasting through the speakers, while the sounds of fans screaming his name and singing along to his song echoed through the entire venue. Everyone and every part of this place came alive as Hanbin took control of the stage with his mere presence. 

You can almost see him still being there as you look over at the stage, commanding it with his music. You still remember how he kept everyone completely entranced with his alluring voice and hypnotising moves. What he did on stage was pure magic. 

And that magic must have been strong enough that you can still picture him doing his thing on that empty stage. You can still feel his presence even after the lights have been turned off and the crowd has long since left this place to return home. 

Thinking about him like this makes your body burn hot. 

Your heartbeat starts racing the same way it did earlier while you were standing by the side of the stage, watching him move his body to the music. After spending the past year working with him and then joining him on this tour, the reactions he inflicts on you no longer surprise you. 

He captivates you in ways that you can never possibly explain. That you have never experienced before. 

Even once the music has stopped, once his performance has long ended and there are no more of his lively audience around you dancing and screaming his name, you can still feel everything. 

Even without the music, its vibration seems to linger. Still reverberates through the air around you and you can feel it deep within your body. As if the space around you is still humming with his presence even in the silence that remains.

“You’re still here?” a voice calls out, drawing your attention away from the empty stage and out of your thoughts right before they begin to dive into a different, slightly darker place. The road manager comes to your side. The man appears just as exhausted as you are—perhaps even more, knowing what he is required to do before and after these shows—yet he still has a big smile on his face as he greets you. 

“Yeah, I just met up with the promoter, so I figured I’d check in to see how you guys are doing while I’m still around,” you try to make up excuses. Not that he would start questioning further. “How’s everything going?” 

The road manager begins explaining everything—from all the tasks that the road crew had just completed and how they are handing the rest to the local staff. Skipping all the technical details that you have no business with except to report back to Hanbin later. 

Much later.

Once you are done with your actual responsibilities. 

As Hanbin’s personal manager who normally handles his private needs, keeping watch of the road crew dismantling the stage equipment and the stereo system isn’t really a part of your duty in the first place. Especially when there aren’t really that many things they would need to cover in these indoor venues. Getting to know what they are doing isn't even the reason why you still remain here after the show is over. 

You are simply buying time before returning back to him. Which is what you probably should be doing already now that everything else has been taken care of. 

“Everything is packed and ready to go. I think the boys are planning to join the dance crew and grab dinner somewhere nearby, then we’ll be out of here before midnight,” the road manager continues as he walks with you towards the backdoor of the venue. “How about you join us?” 

His offer catches you off guard, yet you quickly refuse. “No, thank you, you guys go ahead. I still have some things to do, so I’ll figure something out later.” 

Just as you are heading towards the exit, you are met with the guys from the dance crew, and Hanbin’s close friends, coming in from the parking lot. Most of them look freshly showered, having found the time to freshen up after getting heated from the show. They all give you a friendly greeting once they notice you there, while Shawn, one of the dancers, steps closer to you to say hi. 

You look over his shoulder to confirm that Hanbin isn’t with them. 

Noticing this, he immediately says to you in a low voice, “Hanbin’s back in the bus. Said he wanted to chill and take it easy for the night. He also said that he’s waiting for you to talk about something.” 

“Ah, I see,” you answer him, trying to stay calm about it when your heart is palpitating at the thought of Hanbin waiting for you to come and see him. 

Alone. 

Which only means one thing—

“We’re heading out to get some food and maybe find some snacks and drinks for the road. Should we get you guys something to eat too?” Shawn kindly offers. You can only smile and nod while trying your best not to take notice of the way he speaks, or the way he is looking at you knowingly. You also ignore the way he seems to be insinuating something else when he speaks about you and Hanbin. 

As if he knows your little secret and the real reason why Hanbin is expecting you. 

“Sure, that would be lovely. Thanks for offering. He’ll probably skip dinner if you don’t get him something to eat.” 

The dancer grins. “I wouldn’t be too worried about it if I were you.” 

Shawn’s cryptic answer stays with you for a while as you walk away from the group. Yet you try not to let it bother you too much as you start making your way to find Hanbin. 

The night breeze welcomes you as you step out of the establishment. Then the silence thickens around you as you walk across the quiet parking lot. You merely take a moment to breathe in the fresh air around you and pay no heed to everything else, having only one destination in mind. But you make sure to remain within the shadows formed under the line of trees on the edge of the parking lot, keeping away from the fans who might still be lingering around or taking their time leaving the place. 

It doesn’t take long before you start seeing them. 

There are some standing beyond the trees in pairs while others are gathering in small groups. Some appear to be lounging around and resting, no doubt trying to come down from the high that they had all gotten from the concert before tracking their way back home or to their hotels. Others seem to linger without any apparent reason. Perhaps nothing other than hoping to get one last glimpse of Hanbin or get noticed by him and his boys if they would just wait around a bit longer. 

You watch them for a brief moment before continuing your walk across the parking lot. Parked at a dark corner at the far end of the parking lot, it feels like it is taking you forever to finally reach the tour bus. As it they had all the intention to tuck it away and keep it from being seen. 

Once the tour bus appears in your line of sight, your heart stutters. 

Under the night sky and kept in the dark, the vehicle looks almost inconspicuous. It doesn’t draw too much attention even with its size and how out of place it seems to be here. 

Yet it draws something else out of your thoughts as you take a good look at it. 

It brings a smile to your face when you remember how it all started, how Hanbin and his team came up with the idea of travelling between places in such a bus throughout this tour. He sold the idea as a way for him to make the most out of it, to embrace every moment that he could get and be able to visit different places in between. He also talked about his wish to live life like a rockstar while he is on the road���something which was quite alarming and made you worry at first, hence why you have been joining him through the whole tour.

So far, it has been rare for you to join him and his tight crew riding on the bus during the overnight drives, except for the short journeys and when you had to work side by side with him between shows. 

Other times, you have been travelling solo whenever you were required to. Only so you could be ahead of the entourage to make sure that all the preparations needed for his show would be in place by the time they arrived. 

Tonight, that would be one of the things that is going to change. 

With one last destination left on the tour, the bus and its passengers will be heading down the road right away instead of remaining in this city for the night. And you are going to be joining them on the bus to get to the next destination instead of travelling solo to the next city. 

But as you walk towards the bus, you can feel, deep down, that the travel arrangement wouldn’t be the only thing that is going to be different tonight. 

The place around you is dark and quiet. So quiet that you can almost hear the sound of your rapid heartbeat echoing around you as you reach for the door. Your breath grows heavy as you open the door and climb your way in. More silence welcomes you, which only thickens further once the door is closed behind you. 

Making your way to the back of the bus, you walk past the seats where everyone would usually waste their time while on the road, loitering and chattering loudly with a ton of noises filling this area. The kitchen and the dining area look partly messy—with bags of potato chips and empty bottles left unattended on the counter, even when the tables are wiped clean—and you wonder just how much mess will be added here later once the boys are back. 

And then you reach the area where the bunk beds are. The sleeping quarters that everyone would use to rest and spend the night in while the bus is driving across cities and between borders. With only individual curtains giving each bunk its privacy, noises from outside can still filter through in the night. 

Thinking about this as you walk through the row of bunk beds only brings you back—way back—to the night which started it all. The same night which gave you the reason to be here, tracing your steps through the bus to look for Hanbin. 

It was after the second show when you tracked down this quiet aisle with the same purpose which led to one small mistake that started an entire ripple effect. You came here that night when Hanbin suddenly disappeared after the show while everyone was ready to grab dinner. You came back to the tour bus to find and fetch him so he could eat, knowing how often he would skip his meal when he was focused deeply in work. 

That night was exactly like tonight, with everyone away and on their way to find the nearest local restaurant, leaving the bunk beds empty. At least, that was what you had expected, believing that Hanbin must have lost track of time when he immediately dove straight back into work the way he often would just to burn out the rest of his energy for the night. 

You were heading further back of the vehicle to find him when a faint sound of a groan caught your attention. It sounded like someone or something was in one of the bunk beds, which drew your curiosity. So you stopped to listen.

A bunch of other noises started to become more noticeable then, and it didn’t take long for you to notice that the sounds came from the last bunk on the row. The one that Hanbin was meant to use during the long trips on the road. You carefully crept closer so you could listen better. To know just what was happening behind the curtain. 

There was a mix of cryptic sounds heard coming out of it—the sounds of sheets ruffling, soft knocking against the side of the bunk, and more soft groans.

You wondered for a moment if it was really Hanbin inside the bunk. But when you started suspecting him to be the source of those sounds, you immediately felt annoyed. Livid, even. When the thought of him doing something as risky as getting it on with some stranger crossed your mind. 

It didn’t help when you remembered about his wish to live like a rockstar. Remembered how he had spoken about it before the tour. The thought further led you into believing that he may have actually done it. That he had invited someone, perhaps a willing fan of his, onto the bus. 

It made you want to strangle him just thinking about him actually doing it. The last thing you needed was for him to get caught in trouble in the middle of the tour. Much less for him to get entangled in malicious rumours if something like this should get out in public. 

As the noises continued, you gently grabbed the hem of the curtain, ready to throw it back and bust him. A myriad of scolding went through your head at that point as you were ready to make him pay for it. 

Another groan was heard and you decided to move once you confirmed that it was really his voice that you heard. Ignoring the way the sound of his pleasured moan sent tingles through your body, you whipped the curtain back to catch him in the act, only to regret it as soon as you saw him. 

Hanbin looked like a deer caught in the headlights when he looked up. His eyes were wide open with fear, yet you could also see a dark need emerging from his gaze which became more visible the moment he realised that it was you. 

But you already had your attention somewhere else to notice it.

Reclining in the tight space within his bunk bed, Hanbin was bare-chested, wearing nothing more but his shorts that had been pushed down under his hips. You just couldn’t resist looking down to see his hand wrapped around his thick cock, fully exposed and standing hard against his stomach.

Once the shock wore off, his truth finally came out. He confided in you about his need to release all the energy that was still boiling within him after the show. That it would have made it hard for him to be able to feel calm in the night unless he had all of that energy drained out of him. To have it tamed, so that he could finally relax and have his proper rest. 

“I don’t really think it’s working, though,” he breathlessly said then with a bitter chuckle. “It’s been so long since I’ve been with anyone. And it’s kind of hard to make myself cum when my head is at the wrong places.”

“What if I give you a helping hand? Will it work?” The offer slipped right out of your lips before you could do anything to stop it. You didn’t even realise what you were offering him until the moment you saw the look on his face. He looked surprised, but intrigued at the same time. Then there was this new emotion which seemed raw and fierce coming out through his gaze when he considered taking your offer. 

“Why would I say no to that?” was what he said as he leaned back, allowing you to take matters into your own hands, literally, as you fixed his problems simply with the touch of your hands until he was able to find release. 

That was the first time that you crossed the line just to help him. And it was definitely not the last. 

The arrangement continued after the next show, and the next, and you kept coming to his aid at the end of every concert throughout the ongoing tour. Your help had become the best option available rather than allowing him to find other ways to get out of his predicament once the night got deeper and he was still too hyped up to sleep.

After a short while, your carnal favour has escalated from merely giving him your special aid through your helping hands to taking him deep in your mouth once he needed to be stimulated further. 

That was as far as you had gotten since this arrangement started. Never once had it led to something more. And Hanbin had always been the focus of your “service”, except for the few times he returned the favour by giving you release with the touch of his deft hands when you had to do this in the privacy of his hotel room. 

Your body trembles in heat. Both from reminiscing all the sinful act you had done to help him and from the pleasure that you gained in return through his touch. 

Reaching the end of the aisle, your eyes linger on the last bunk. The curtain is drawn, and there is no sound coming out of it. You can tell that he won’t be there if you pull that curtain open, so you move on.

The only sound that you can hear comes from the small room at the back of the bus instead. The area that was meant to be the master bedroom, altered into a private cabin with sofa beds and desks which would have more purpose for someone like Hanbin. 

You shouldn’t be surprised to know that Hanbin would choose to be there, waiting for you to come to him. Because you know that out of all the sections within the bus, it would be the only place that can provide you all the privacy that you may need to be able to help sort out the uncommon predicament that Hanbin might be facing tonight. 

Right this moment, that is where the faint sound of his moans and slow breaths is guiding you. And you follow its lead, with your heart palpitating the closer you are to get to it. 

As you gently open the door to the cabin, you find Hanbin sitting on the long sofa at the back of the room. The same sofa bed that you would use to sleep on whenever you are riding on the bus, when you are not helping Hanbin finish his work or write his music while everyone else is asleep in their bunks.

You enter the cabin, closing the door behind you. You take a moment to have a good look at him before coming to his side. 

Hanbin still has the same pants that he was wearing on stage. Sill bare-chested after discarding his shirt at the end of the show to toss it to God knows where. The only difference is that he is barefoot, with his shoes left hastily on the floor. The strands of his hair—which appear to be wet with sweat—are now a complete mess with curly strands falling over his face like curtains shielding him from the dim lights illuminating the room.

Hanbin has his head tilted back as he reclines on the sofa, looking awfully exhausted after the hours-long, full-energy show that he had just concluded. You can see his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. His bare skin is glistening with a thin layer of sweat that somehow makes him look even more alluring than he always has been. The glow on his skin further accentuates the lines on his chest, shoulders, and torso, making you feel the urge to touch him there. 

Before you can realise it, your legs begin to move, taking you to him. At first, it appears to you that he has yet to notice your presence. Until you notice the slight tremor in his deep inhale of breath once he senses that you are coming closer.

As you come to him, Hanbin lifts his head to look at you. The dim lighting around you didn’t allow you to see it before, yet as he subtly shifts on his seat, you finally notice that he had left his pants unbuttoned and unzipped before you had gotten here. 

Seeing the sight of his hard-on, partly covered by his pants while the tip is resting heavily on his stomach, it reminds you of the first night you saw him like this. Except that instead of having his hand wrapped around his hard girth, Hanbin keeps his hands to his side this time. Both are clenched tightly into the sofa, allowing you to see the tension rolling out of his body.

That tension seems to grow further when he opens his eyes, watching you coming closer to him with an intense gaze. 

“You’re here,” he says once you are standing right before him. His voice almost feels like an echo in the silence that surrounds you. Still sounds hoarse after the show. 

“I’m here,” you find yourself responding as if you are completely entranced by his gentle voice. You clear your throat, hoping that you can shake away the yearning in your voice before he ever notices it. “I heard you were expecting me. I came right away, assuming that you needed my assistance.” 

You trail your gaze back down on his lap, eyeing closely at the sight of his hard cock. It twitches against his stomach the more you give it attention. You lick your lips, wishing for a taste. Yet you manage to keep your voice steady when you tease him, “I didn’t expect that you would have started already without me.” 

A slow grin appears on his face. “There is no way I could start anything before you got here. I was waiting for you. But as you can see, I needed to do something about it when it was starting to hurt so bad.” 

He stops with a hiss. His body seems to react while he converses with you. “You’re the only one who can help me during times like this,” he says to you before dragging his tongue across his lips. 

There is a subtle disappointment flickering in his eyes when he adds, “Funny, I thought you would be as excited as I’ve been to finally have some time alone like this once the show ended.” 

The look that you see in his eyes and the disdain you hear in his voice catch you by surprise. You didn’t truly expect that he would be anticipating this as much as you have been. It makes you feel guilty for stalling time instead of coming to see him straight away just like you were supposed to. 

You had only lingered back to gather your wits before facing him. It was something that you felt needed to do, after the reactions he wrung out of you while he was performing. 

Even now, you still feel hot as you are picturing him dancing, rolling his body to the music as if he was making love to it. And your body is still reacting the same way. Heat rushes through you, centering at your core. Then you look down again at his throbbing shaft, and that heat shifts into something else. 

You take a deep breath and quickly move your eyes to his face to gain composure. “I was planning to come find you right away, but I had to make sure that everything was going as planned before we could go back on the road,” you try to explain yourself, even if you can tell that what you are giving him is nothing but a lame excuse. 

“Is that so? I guess I can’t blame you for making sure that you’re done with the job. I almost thought that you were avoiding me,” he jokes with a feeble chuckle, to which you quickly respond with,

“I would never do that.” You surprise both him and yourself with your immediate respond. You are mostly surprised at how much you meant it. “There’s no way I could avoid you. Not at times like this, at least.”

Hanbin falls silent, making you tense for a moment. Until he lets out a relieved sigh. “That’s a relief to hear. I’m glad,” he says. A subtle tremor rises from his chest just then, and you can tell that he is still brimming with adrenaline. 

The same adrenaline that he had gotten built up from the stage, and the one that you will have to tame down for him to be able to sleep during the night. 

The same way it has always been. Once the music ends, the overflowing adrenaline that still remains in his body becomes out of control. And it is your job to help him come down from it. 

Only that it would need a different kind of high to make it happen. 

After tonight’s show, you know for sure that this would be a challenging of a task for you to deal with. You can only hope that you won’t get devoured by this new raw energy of his.

“How can I help you this time?” you offer with a soft voice that is nearly drowned by the sound of your rapid heartbeat. 

“Can you—” he starts to say in a whisper, “can you strip out of your clothes this time? Please, I want to see you.” 

His words, despite sounding like an inconspicuous request, are still enough to make you feel the same rushing heat building back up in your body. The only thing that you aren’t completely sure of is whether this feeling comes merely from lust. 

Because the rapid flutters rising in your chest are telling you that there is something else that is present there. Something that is insisting on blooming within you despite all of your efforts to keep it away. 

“Are you sure that’s what you want?” you ask him, trying to make sure that he knows what he is asking of you. That he realises that complying with his request now would only mean that both of you are crossing a new line. 

“I wouldn’t be asking you this if I wasn’t,” he firmly says to you, and you can almost hear his voice growing deeper and heavy with his desire for a moment before he covers it all up to say, “but you don’t have to if you don’t want to go that far.” 

But you do want to. Even if it means you are crossing over boundaries, and things may escalate further than they usually would. 

Somehow, you had predicted that things may turn out differently this time. Unlike those previous nights, lending him your helping hands may not be enough for you to solve this problem of his. Not tonight.

You already felt it since the show earlier, when there was a new raw energy emerging from him throughout the show. As if he was letting loose every pent-up desire on stage, which brought up the rumbling energy now still emerging through his body as he is sitting there, waiting for you to make a decision. 

Fulfilling his request seems risky when you are already getting too deep. You were never supposed to get your emotions involved. Yet it still happened. It happened before you realised it, and now it appears to you that it is already too late for you to try and stop it. 

You have made up your mind to try and ignore your treacherous heart. To focus on doing your job until the final day of his tour. Except that the answer you give him next doesn’t seem to support your decision and your mind decides to take a new risk instead.

“It’s fine. I’ll do it,” you calmly say to him while doing your best not to show how much his words are affecting you. 

“It would be better that way, after all, since you nearly ruined my favourite blouse when you made a mess on me the last time we did this,” you simply add, as you try to convince yourself that there is really nothing else behind this. That you just want to make it more practical. 

Your comment draws a grin to his face, as if he is recalling that salacious night in his head right after you brought it up. The night when you slipped into his dressing room right after a show, using the limited time you had to fix his problem before you were supposed to drive him and the dancers to the hotel where everyone could rest for the night. 

Except that in the rush of him finding release, Hanbin made a complete mess out of himself, and you, when drops of his essence fell all over your blouse. It would have been impossible for people not to notice you coming out of his dressing room wearing nothing but his sweatshirt, had there been people still loitering around after the show was over. 

You had initially believed that your secret was safe with you when you managed to slip out unnoticed, until you remember Shawn’s sly grin earlier when he spoke to you about Hanbin. 

Once again, you try not to dwell on it too much and focus back on the present. Back to the man who is sitting right in front of you, with his chest and cock partly out, as he waits for you to make a move. 

Looking straight into his eyes, you reach down to grip the hem of your blouse and strip it off of your body. Your trousers come next, as you unbutton them at the waist and start pushing the fabric down your hips.

Hanbin’s eyes never waver from you while this is happening. The way his gaze is so focused on you seems to only urge you to continue putting on a show for him. So you begin to sway your hips from side to side as you slowly peel your pants off of you, before letting everything fall on the floor.

Stepping out of your shoes and the pile of your discarded clothes, you leave your undergarments on and stand right between his parted legs. His gaze follows you as you lower yourself to the floor, kneeling down right before him. 

“What do you need me to do next?” 

Hanbin drags his tongue across his lips as he considers his options. Having you kneeling in front of him, with your face hovering close to his crotch is already enough to taunt and challenge him. 

Tension rises between you as he makes you wait. 

The air feels cold on your mostly bare skin, yet your body feels hot as your anticipation increases with each passing second. Being in this position makes you feel completely exposed and helpless, as if you are submitting to his control. Slowly, your knees begin to feel sore from holding up your weight. The rising ache only brings forth the other sensations rising in your body, making you feel sensitive to the slightest movement he makes when he shifts in his seat. 

This wouldn’t be the first time that your body is showing these reactions. When you are made to feel your own carnal desire rising in your body at the thought of pleasing him and fulfilling his needs. 

And this was the reason why you took your sweet time coming to him. Because you couldn’t face him when you had a myriad of emotions rushing through your body. You are already made weak by your forbidden feelings, and it would only be made worse once he brings out your dark desire. 

Because you know that you wouldn’t be able to control yourself once that happens. 

A gentle touch on the top of your head brings your attention back to him before your mind gets too far and your insecurities take over. At the same time, his touch calms you down. 

The moment you look into his eyes, everything else seems to fade away. This is no longer a part of your job, and the world outside of this cabin no longer exists. It stops you from questioning your decision of ever getting yourself involved in this whole thing.

“Help me take these off. I can barely move a muscle since I got here,” he calmly claims with a soft chuckle, completely oblivious to the turmoil happening in your head. 

He probably doesn’t even know how his simple request is making your chest dip. 

You bite back the bashful smile that comes to your face. “Oh, poor you. Here, let me help,” you say to him with a tease, even if it falls short once your eyes return to his twitching erection.

You ignore the warm flutters rising in your chest as you reach up to grab a hold of his waistband. With a firm grip, you start pulling his pants and boxer pants together. Which doesn’t really take a lot of effort when they were barely holding on around his hips, already pushed down just enough for him to free his rigid cock from its restraint. Your fingers graze his skin as you keep pulling them down his hips, causing him to tremble under your touch. 

It gives you some self-satisfaction to be able to draw this kind of reaction from him. It feels good to see that you are not the only one getting affected by all the tension. So you tease him further, keeping light contact with his skin as you continue to bring his clothes down his legs. 

“There. Better?” you ask him with a low voice once the intrusive clothes of his are now gone. 

Seeing him sitting there completely naked leaves you breathless. Yet you find it hard to look away. His erection seems to grow harder under your perusing gaze. It causes the urge to touch him to grow stronger. 

“Touch it,” he suddenly says, as if he knows what you are thinking just by looking at your clenched hands. “Please,” he adds almost breathlessly, “I want to feel your hands on me.” 

Words fail you. While his words pull you like a spell. You reach out to touch him, starting from his thighs, where you trace his skin lightly with the tips of your fingers, drawing light shudders through his body. You continue until you finally reach the area between his legs when you finally stop.

His whole body tenses. Anticipation rolls through him as you move your hand closer. Light fingers start hovering lightly on his hard-on, with only a subtle brush or two grazing at his cock. Each light touch you give him only makes you want more. You want to feel his skin under your palm. To feel the familiar pulse coming from his cock the moment you touch him. Yet you resist the temptation just a bit longer. You want to tease him enough to the point that he feels like he is on the edge before you finally continue. 

And he doesn’t disappoint you when he soon reacts. With a soft whimper, Hanbin subtly pushes his hips up, as if trying to guide you into touching him further.

No longer able to deny your own desire, you finally give in and wrap a gentle hand around the base of his cock. 

At your touch, Hanbin reacts with a groan. His chest trembles as he tries to calm himself with a deep inhale of breath. His hips almost come up from the sofa when you start moving your hand, sliding your gentle grip up and down the length of his cock. 

You continue to move, keeping a steady pace and drawing more and more reactions from him. His rocking hips, his rumbling chest as he moans in pleasure, and his hands that are clenching tightly right by his side. 

You soon notice how quickly he loses control of himself once he starts thrusting back up into your hand. Seeing how badly he needs this release, you give a firm grip around his girth and slowly pick up your speed, moving your hand up and down his length until the sound of his laboured breathing fills the room. 

“Fuck, that’s it. That feels perfect,” he groans with his head tilted back. Shudders after shudders rush through him, and you keep up what you are doing now when he doesn’t make a move to stop you. 

Until you start to feel it coming. 

A pulse rises from his girth, pressing against your palm. and you take it as a cue that it is time for him to reach his climax. After giving him a few more strokes, you lean down and tease the head of his cock with your tongue. He lets out a deep groan once he feels your lips wrapped around the tip, covering him with your warm mouth. 

You continue the light strokes along the length of his shaft and reach down with your other hand, touching his balls with a light hand and start massaging him lightly as you begin licking your way up and down his member. As the sound of his moans increases rapidly, you finally take his whole cock into your mouth and slide all the way down, taking as much as you can until he is deep in your throat. 

You suck hard as you push him in and out of your mouth, swirling your tongue around his tip each time you come up and tightening your throat when you come back down to swallow him. With your hand, you continue stroking the rest of his length that you cannot cover, until you feel his muscles tightening, his moans stuttering with heavy breathing, a sign that he is ready to explode. 

With one last stroke, and giving him one last hard suck, you swallow him deeply until it finally happens. His hands come up to the back of your head to keep you in place as he rocks his hips, thrusting into your mouth. It takes only a few thrusts before he finally comes into your mouth. His warm release falls on your tongue and the cavern of your mouth, with some drops shooting their way to the back of your throat. 

The last one makes you gargle, yet with his hands keeping you in place and your mouth still pumping his length, you make no move to pull away. You continue sucking, swallowing every last drop until the only thing that remains is the constant pulse of his blood pumping from the base of his cock to the tip that is still buried in your throat. 

You don’t stop, until he finally has enough and releases you, and you pull away so his cock pops out of your lips and falls back onto his stomach. 

You take a moment to catch your breath. But once your mind is cleared, you realise too late how hot your body feels now, triggered solely by the act of pleasing him. There is heat rising between your quivering legs, and you somehow know that if you reach down, you will find yourself growing wet. 

Hanbin’s hands return to you, touching your face gently so you can look at him again. 

His face seems flushed after his release, with a mix of afterglow and raw, unfulfilled hunger that refuses to go away. The glow in his eyes makes you grow curious at first, until your eyes trail down his heaving chest, stopping at his toned stomach to see his cock, still hard and mostly rigid even after its release. 

“As you can see, seems like I’m going to need a little more than that,” he says with a lack of regret shown in his voice. 

This situation makes you laugh. “A little?” you tease him, making him grin.

“Okay, maybe a lot,” he returns with an easy shrug, while your chest feels heavy at the thought of this continuing into something else. Something more risky. 

You realise that you are not feeling this way because you are unwilling, but because deep down, you know that you want this. You have wanted this for some time, ever since the pleasure which you gain from helping him becomes so addicting and your feelings become deeply involved. 

You can barely hear your own voice under the sound of your heartbeat when you ask him, “So what do you have in mind?” 

Hanbin opens his mouth, only to close it again. “I don’t want to make you do something that you don’t want to,” he says while gauging your reaction. Ever since you started spending close, nearly intimate moments like this with him, you have learned that he can be a bit perceptive when it comes to you. 

And it does a lot of things to your heart when he can easily tell what you need. How he always keeps a close eye on you to make sure to notice any discomfort coming from you. 

“No, that’s not what this is,” you answer him with a soft voice as your hands return to touch him again. You trace your fingers on the inner side of his thighs, stopping before you reach his cock when you finally admit to him, “I want this. I want to do all I can to help you.” 

And help myself satiate my needs, the little voice in your head whispers just as your eyes find him. You hate to admit how hopeful you are feeling as you wait, expecting him to express to you exactly what he needs. 

The same way you always make it happen. It makes things easier for you when he guides you through it. Even though it has never been easy for you to deal with the lingering aftermath.

“Good. Now come up here,” he breathlessly says. The need in his voice feels so intense that makes you feel entranced. Pulled by his demand as you carefully plant one knee and the other on either side of him to get over his lap. 

Hanbin has his hands on your waist, helping you up with a gentle hold. Which only makes it hard for you to remain calm when his touch makes your heart stutter. Butterfly wings fluttering wildly from deep within your chest just from that simple touch alone.  

“What’s wrong?” he asks you, as he notices how you become still under the touch of his hands. There is a deep sigh in his voice. It makes you wonder if he is getting affected by the contact at the same time. 

“Just a bit nervous,” you find yourself admitting to him before you can stop it. You quickly bite your tongue, stopping yourself from suddenly dumping your true feelings and trying to divert his attention. “I never realised how tight this sofa is until we’re both sitting on it together like this.” 

He softly chuckles. “I’ll take care of you,” he says to you gently as he wraps an arm around your waist to hold you up against his chest. “But if you’re not sure about this—” 

“I’m sure. Positively sure about this,” you quickly cut him off. The words just come out of you before you realise it happening. 

A smile grows on his face. One that makes you swoon and you simply melt into his hold. “That’s all I need to hear,” is all he has to say to you, before he surprises you by pulling you to him and pressing his lips on yours. 

You grow tense for a moment and he slows down, giving you a chance to process this over. Maybe push him away if you are feeling uncomfortable. 

Because he never kissed you on the lips before. Not like this. Not with this much passion and tenderness that makes you feel like your heart has grown wings and they are fluttering wildly in your chest. 

Slowly, you begin to relax, returning his kiss with the same gentleness that he is giving you. The kiss continues on, and on, until he suddenly traces your lips with his tongue, and you are made to feel as if you are melting into hot lava. 

Hanbin’s hand slides up your back. His touch feels distant as you have your mind muddled by his hot kiss. Though your body still arches into his touch, as if having a mind of its own. You run your hands through his messy hair, pulling at his locks while you are returning his kiss. 

A soft tug is felt against the skin on your back. The next thing you know, he is pulling your bra off of you. He pulls back from the kiss as he throws the bra away, while you let out a gasp when a cold breeze touches your skin. 

Hanbin licks his lips as he takes a good, intense look at your bare breasts. “All this time, I’ve always wondered—” 

The sound of the door at the front of the bus being opened cuts him off before he can finish what he is trying to say. Then the sound of low chatters and laughter follows. You immediately wrap your arms around yourself when you realise that some of the boys are already returning from dinner. 

Blood is drained from your face at the thought of being caught in the middle of this. “Oh no, I forgot to lock the doors.” 

“It’s okay, baby,” Hanbin hushes you with a soft murmur while pressing a finger on your lips. “They know that we need our privacy, so no one will be looking for us back here. Just remember to keep it quiet while they’re still out there.” 

Before you have the chance to ask what he means to say, he pulls your head down and presses his lips on yours. Once again, he silences your thoughts until the only thing that you can focus on is the present. 

To focus on him. 

For someone who is filled with tension, Hanbin’s kiss feels gentle. As if he wants to take it slow, to take his time while making sure that you won’t break. The soft touch he keeps on your waist makes you realise that he is giving you a chance to set the pace, to allow you to slip away if you want none of this. 

But there is no escaping this when have already given in, allowing yourself to submit completely to your true desire. It isn’t hard to let yourself go when you can feel from the way he is kissing you that Hanbin wants this as much as you do. 

You wrap your arms around his shoulders as you allow yourself to take more. You meet his kiss by responding to it with the same fervour. You return every mesh of his lips on yours with your own, then you open your mouth to let him slip his tongue right in. 

Hanbin seizes his chance right away, deepening the kiss by pressing harder. His breathing grows heavier as he swirls his tongue around yours, to which you respond by sucking his tongue and pushing back, drawing a faint sound of a groan rumbling through his chest. 

You feel his hands moving right then, tracing your skin and rubbing at your curves, before finding your bottom cheeks. He covers your soft flesh with his palms and gives it a light squeeze, pushing you further into his chest and drawing a warm pulse deep inside your core when your covered pussy rubs against his cock. 

Feeling delirious from his touch and his hot kiss, you run your hands over the smooth muscles on his chest. The tips of your fingers slide down the thin layer of sweat that is covering his skin, while feeling him growing even hotter under your touch. 

All of a sudden, Hanbin pulls away from the kiss. He narrows his eyes when he looks at you, giving you a look filled with lust. 

His gaze moves away from your face as he moves his hands again. His eyes follow his touch as he traces his way up to your breasts. A tremor is visible in his inhale of breath as he gently presses his palms on your soft mounds, matching the subtle tremors that come awake through your body from his touch. 

As soon as his fingers touch your breasts, your nipples grow hard in an instant, and they seem to grow more sensitive the more he touches you that even a soft blow of the breeze makes you shiver. Once he takes notice of this, Hanbin bends his head lower and takes one of the pulsing buds between his lips. He gives a light suck, then brushes his tongue against it. You grit your teeth at the sensation that he is bringing out of you.

You almost forget where you are or the fact that you are no longer alone as Hanbin scrapes his teeth against your flesh, teasing you for a moment before biting to the point of pain. While you resist the urge to moan, your hand wanders down his chest, feeling his heartbeat stuttering under the tips of your fingers, then you continue your way down to his stomach. 

Within moments, your fingers brush the head of his cock. The need to touch him grows stronger then, and you trace your fingertips along his shaft. He moans against your breast, affected by your soft, yet indecent touch, and it pushes him to move further. 

His hand moves down your waist, pulling the waistband of your panties and tries to slip his fingers into the fabric to touch you. Yet your position above him isn’t allowing him to dive deeper to find the source of your pulsing heat. 

With a groan, Hanbin pulls away. He opens his mouth, and you begin to move back, expecting him to tell you to strip out of your panties. But he stops himself as he looks down, studying the offensive fabric for a brief moment before his hands slip under the waistband and he starts pulling.

“Wait, what are you—” You are just starting to question what he is up to when the ripping sound of the fabric fills the room. He doesn’t tear it into pieces like how you had often read it in those steamy romance novels, and he isn’t doing it so expertly either. His brows are furrowed deeply as he struggles with it and it takes him a while before he can get the job done. But as soon as he has the sides ripped up, he pulls the entire thing off of you and tosses it away while cursing out at it. 

“Are you crazy?” you ask him with your mouth gaping open, while he only exhales sharply. 

His brows are still furrowed when he answers you, “I didn’t want you to step down. Can you please wear something thinner next time so it’ll be easier for me to take it off of you?” 

“You can’t be serious?” you ask him with a baffled laugh. 

“You know I don’t joke about things like this,” he says with a sly grin. He may not seem so serious about it when he said it, but knowing him, you know that he truly meant it. “Now, where were we?” 

You are still baffled by his words that you fail to respond in time, and he takes the chance to move his hands down your hips. Hanbin has one hand holding you firmly at your hips as he dips the other between your legs, tracing the tips of his fingers up your inner thighs while gently guiding you to part your legs a bit wider. 

It feels like a struggle to get into position, but you somehow manage. Then he wastes no time to move his hand upward until his fingertips come brushing at your nether lips. 

Your hips lurch forward to meet his touch as he parts them and starts tracing your hot sex. With how sensitive and needy you have become, it doesn’t take much for him to make you start moaning and panting. 

“You’re so wet,” he murmurs while looking amused, but not surprised. He also seems mesmerised as he looks down at his fingers as he slips then between your folds and easily finds the slick mess that was formed while you were pleasuring him. 

He continues stroking your wet slit, drawing more and more of your arousal so that you can hear the slick sound he makes with his fingers. 

His touch draws a gasp out of your lips, and just when you are just beginning to feel high with pleasure, Hanbin bends down and starts sucking at your breast again, intensifying the sensation further that you simply lose all control of your body. 

Your hips begin to rock, moving back and forth against his touch and in tune with each stroke of his fingers on your slit. As he slides his fingers to find your clit, your moan grows a bit louder, and your movement becomes more erratic as you are drunk with carnal pleasure. 

Hanbin takes this chance to grow bold with his touch, as he gently slides a finger into your tight pussy. He feels you clenching around him tightly in response, and he begins pumping his digit in and out of you, drawing more shudders through your body with each stroke. 

While he works his fingers into your pussy, he uses his thumb to explore around it. He glides the wet digit over your clit and presses down while he pushes the rest of his fingers into your depth. 

You let out a breathy moan. Something that isn’t meant to happen, but the wanton sound comes out with your exhale of breath. And in your effort to try to hold back from erupting in pleasure, you simply fail to control yourself. 

Yet the sound you are making only draws an approving sound rumbling through his chest. He gives you a muffled moan as he keeps his mouth latched onto your breast possessively. 

Beyond the blissful fog filling your head, you can hear the faint sounds of footsteps walking away, bags being dropped, and then the distant voice saying something about leaving dinner behind and getting drinks, before you can hear the door of the bus closing. You can barely recognise those sounds, and it doesn’t register to you what it means at first, until you finally remember that you haven’t been alone on the bus for quite a while. 

Yet now that they are gone, there is nothing left behind but silence. The sounds of your ragged breath and his soft groan are the only ones left to fill the room. 

Hanbin finally releases your breast with the sound of a pop coming out of his lips. His hand quickly comes to where his mouth has been, though it doesn’t mean that he is done working his mouth on your skin. From your breasts, he traces your skin with his hot lips—up to your collarbones, then lingering on the side of your neck. 

Your head falls back. A content sigh slips out of your lips from the way he is tasting you, kissing and nibbling around the spot beneath your ear which has always been quite sensitive.

“I need to be inside you,” he finally asks you with his lips grazing against your neck. He makes it hard for you to respond with his hot kisses pressing on your skin and his fingers moving in slow circles against your slit. 

The pleasure that he wrings out of your body feels maddening. It builds in a slow rise, but is still enough to make you feel high in bliss.

“I—” you sigh out an answer, only to continue with a series of moans as you rock your hips on his lap. Too lost in your wanton need, you grind against his fingers, needing something more. Something to get you to find your release.

“I know that you want it too. I can feel it whenever you try to hold back,” he whispers as he leans back, searching for your truth with his deep gaze looking straight into your eyes. Then he surprises you, making you wonder if you have always been so transparent when he asks, “Don’t you ever feel frustrated at night when you need something but can’t have it? Why deny yourself of pleasure when I’m right here?” 

You hate how right he is and you hate that you can’t even deny every word he just said to you. 

Every time you are done with your carnal favours, you always come out of it feeling unsettled. You have always found yourself struggling on your own in the aftermath, left to spend the long hours in those nights tossing and turning in bed. 

Alone and horny. 

Frustrated because you are left with a need that has yet to be fulfilled. 

Disappointed because you have no other way to find release other than your own touch. Which would never be sufficient to give you exactly what you need.

He pushes his fingers back into your pussy, drawing a low moan out of your lips which he covers with a kiss. “Let me return the favour, baby. You’ve done so much for me. Let me do this,” he murmurs against your lips before pressing a gentle kiss, giving you time to answer, while using every sinful touch he is giving you to push you into opening up. 

Though there is really no need for him to do it, when you have already made up your mind the moment you heard his offer the first time.   

Because how are you supposed to refuse when he keeps saying all the right things? And when you can clearly see how genuine he is being? Or when your body is humming with a wanton need that keeps begging to be released, and he keeps touching you at the right places which gives you carnal pleasure? 

“If you want to talk about returning favours,” you start to answer him with a sigh while running your fingers down his heaving chest, “you should know that I only take what I am owed.” 

Hanbin grins at this. He pulls back slowly while drawing his fingers out of your tight pussy, leaving behind a shuddering bliss in its wake. You watch him bring his fingers up to his lips, each one coated with your slick arousal, which he lowly licks with his tongue until he tastes every last drop. 

The sight of him drinking your essence captivates you so that your head spins, almost making you miss what he says to you next, “You don’t have to worry about that at all. I plan on paying everything that I owe you—” he says before tasting the last drop and bringing his hands back to your hips, “even if it takes all night long to pay my debt.” 

“Really?” you ask him, “I’ll keep that in mind, just don’t take back your words once we begin.” 

You reach down, grabbing his hard erection and finding it already grown back to its full girth while he was pleasing you. You give him a few strokes, drawing a gasp from his lips, before aligning the hard tip of his cock right at your entrance. 

The urge to sit down on his hard-on feels so strong. Yet you fight it just a bit longer. You have known that you have grown awfully wet down below, and there is no doubt a mess has been created there from his sinful touches. You can hear the sound of your slick arousal echoing in the room as you guide the tip of his cock back and forth against your slit, coating him with your essence. 

You continue this until you are ready. Until you feel him pushing his hips upward slightly to press his cock against your pussy. With a shudder, you put his cock right back at your entrance and slowly start lowering yourself on him. The sound of his deep moan erupts as you slowly sink down the length of his cock, stopping briefly when there is some restraint from your pulsing walls, keeping you from taking him deeper. 

“Fuck, so tight—” he groans deeply, while you can only respond back with a soft mewl. “Are you feeling okay?” 

“Mm,” is the only thing that you can give him when words fail you. Spasm after spasm of pleasure rocks through you even when you are both silent, remaining in a standstill while your bodies are slowly adjusting to one another. 

“We need to move, baby. You’re sucking me and we’re barely starting.” 

It feels tight, and your legs are trembling so much that it almost makes it hard for you to move. Even pushing yourself up and down his length seems like an effort. 

But once the series of pulses begins to wane down, you finally gather enough will to start moving. After moving slightly back and forth, nearly rocking against him, you manage to take more of him. Taking him inch by delicate inch until he is completely embedded inside your slick heat. 

With a shuddering moan, you slump forward against his chest. Because the pleasure you are feeling with him buried deep inside you is too much. 

He makes you feel full. His girth seems to be the perfect fit inside you. He also makes you feel a myriad of sensations that you have never felt before even just by filling you up like this. 

Perhaps it has been too long since you have gotten laid that your body responds to him so easily. It has been hard for you to hook up with anyone while you are attached to this job, and while you dedicated your long hours to fulfil his needs. 

Hanbin notices the way your body is taking its time to adjust to the sensation rushing through you. Instead of rushing through things, he tightens his hold on your waist to keep you close, holding you up while you let the shudders pass. 

Hot kisses are pressed on your neck, chin, and then your face, as Hanbin tries to soothe your body to relax against him and help you embrace the pleasure. It takes a moment, but you finally feel the tension in your body lessening in his hold. 

That is when you start moving. 

Starting with tentative rocking at first, before you slowly start gaining more and more confidence just as the rush of pleasure continues to build up and take over. Scooting forward and back, you rub yourself against his length. Then you gather enough strength on your legs and begin moving up and down his length, causing his cock to retreat and reenter you with each move. 

Your carnal desire quickly takes over control, and your body continues to move naturally in a steady rocking. He raises his hands and begins caressing your breasts, using the rhythm of your rocking hips to gently knead your soft flesh. 

“That feels—good,” you moan softly, mewling while arching your chest into him so you can press your breasts into his palms. He takes this chance to pinch your nipples, playing with them by rubbing and rolling them between his thumbs and forefinger, until he draws an intense wave of pleasure rushing throughout your body. 

Your rocking quickens, and with the way you are arching into him, you are inadvertently grinding your clit against his pubic bone, drawing more and more of those delicate shivers of pleasure surging inside you. They rise through your chest and neck, and once your legs begin to quiver harder, you start losing balance and the rocking of your hips grows unsteady. 

His hands come down to your hips, giving you a firm hold to keep you from flailing and falling back from the sofa. Humming softly, Hanbin becomes aware of the way you are shaking on top of him. He gives you a moment to ride your pleasure before he takes over and starts pumping his cock into you. 

“I...fucking…knew it,” he groans, saying each word between each thrust he is giving you. He slams harder and harder, closing his eyes as he takes this moment to savour the pleasure that he is feeling from being inside you.

“I’ve pictured this so many times, and it feels way better than I imagined it would,” you hear him say with ragged breaths. Your hips buck in surprise, but he tightens his grip on your hips and increases the pace of his fucking, pushing all thoughts, any word you wanted to say to him, out the window. 

Your fingers sink deeper into his bare shoulders as you hold on tightly to him through the rough fucking he is giving you. The pleasure feels so intense. But the sudden tightness in your chest has nothing to do with the sparks rising right where you are joined, when your heart seems to swell at his admission.

To even think that he has been thinking of you this way, for wanting this same thing as you do for a long time, seems unfathomable. 

But you cannot say that you had never suspected it before. You still remember faintly hearing him say your name on that first night you caught him pleasing himself, even if you had suppressed this memory to the back of your mind in your denial. Though the rest of the time you saw the signs had been real, when he kept his eyes open each time you assisted him with his needs, refusing to look away from you as he embraced his release. 

You open your eyes just as he does the same. The look you see coming out of his gaze makes your heart lodged higher in your chest. Because beyond the lust, beyond the desire, you see deep longing looking back at you, returning every yearning that you feel for him as he continues to rock his hips in rapid successions. 

Hanbin pulls your head down until your mouths are joined. He drinks in the sounds of your moans with a deep kiss. Your breasts bounce with each hard thrust he keeps giving you. Each hard tip keeps rubbing against his chest, drawing more wicked sensations through your body which pushes you closer towards your climax. 

Right before you can reach it, Hanbin suddenly stops. He trembles as he holds back from his own release, starting from his legs that are locked under your weight to his chest which heaves with deep, ragged breaths. 

You open your mouth to protest and whine, but stop yourself when you look into his eyes. You can see his intention looking back at you and instantly know that this is not over yet. 

He may have denied both of you from your final release, but he is not done with you yet. 

Keeping his hands on your hips, he gives you a firm hold as he rolls your bodies together, flipping your positions until you are laid right beneath him. 

He lifts your legs in the air, sending you sinking into the sofa as he places your legs on his shoulders. In a blink of an eye, he slides his cock back into you, drawing a sharp gasp from your lips when he pushes in with one firm thrust, drawing a rapid set of spasms from your walls pressing around him. As you look up to him, his eyes are dark with lust, clear desire written all over his face when he begins rocking, thrusting in and out of you at a rapid pace. 

“Hanbin—!” you hiss out his name as he continues fucking you to oblivion. 

Yet hearing you calling out his name seems to work like a spell. It draws him to move quicker, pumping deeper inside you, until all that you can feel is his hardness pushing in and filling you up completely to the brim. 

Allowing himself to get lost in his carnal desire, he no longer cares about the noises that he draws out from both of you while he chases for his release. It feels so intense, so hot, so carnal, that you almost feel like you are melting into the sofa while your whole body trembles violently under each of his hard thrusts. 

Being in this position, you are made helpless. With your body being folded under his weight, it makes you feel off-balanced. There is no escape as he drives into you, pushing you into the height of bliss. 

But you refuse to stay still, wanting to give back and push you both further and faster to find climax. Reaching up, you hold on tightly to his biceps. Keeping a steady leverage there as you rock your hips back up, returning every thrust he is giving you with your own push. 

You scream out his name at how good it feels. The pleasure that feels like ecstasy rolling through your body, shooting straight back up to his rocking hips until you feel him shuddering above you. 

“That feels so good. I’m close, baby,” he groans, just as you feel the first wave of your climax building rapidly inside you. 

“Please, Hanbin. I’m also close,” you moan deeply, almost breathless with the intensity of your pleasure taking over your body. “I’m going to come.” 

He reaches down between your rocking bodies without missing a single thrust. His fingers come down right at where you are joined. With a trembling groan, he finds your clit and gives it a pinch. 

Pain and pleasure spark through your body. Your muscles grow tight, clenching around him, before your orgasm comes crashing through your body, one intense spasm to another. Hanbin cups the nape of your neck as he continues to pump into you hard and fast, fucking you through your orgasm until it feels like it will never end. 

“Fuck—you’re so tight, baby,” he grunts. “You’re gripping at me.” 

His voice fades in and out as your orgasm rolls through you. Once again, your pussy clenches tightly around him, and your final orgasm finally pushes him through his own. He comes with a shout, and you feel him twitching inside you before he starts shooting his warm release inside you. His slow rocking carries on with pulse after pulse of his climax until he fills you up with the very last drop of cum. 

Exhausted and spent, Hanbin collapsed on top of you, completely out of breath. While you no longer have the energy to push him away. He waits until all the spasms growing in your bodies start to calm down when he finally pulls out of you. 

While you fall helplessly on the sofa, breathless and high in your blissful fog, Hanbin moves away to grab a clean paper towel before returning to you. 

He takes his time taking care of you, gently cleaning you off from the mess that has been created from your intense lovemaking. Each delicate brush on your skin draws light sparks from your body that still feels sensitive to the touch. Slowly, he draws your senses back alive, yet his soothing touches help you relax with a content sigh. 

Once he is done, Hanbin rolls you over to face him as he falls right beside you on the plush sofa.

As you lie there by his side, in a post-orgasmic bliss and limbs that feel too heavy for you to move, your mind begins to race. There is no stopping it when you start wondering, questioning about what will happen next. You have crossed boundaries as his personal aid, and what you had taken as your personal responsibility to take care of him has now become something else. 

“That was—” you try to speak once you find your voice again. Yet no words come out of you when you have no idea what to say to him. 

“Amazing? Sensational?” he teases you while wiggling his eyebrows. 

You laugh, shaking your head even when deep down, you cannot really deny it. It was amazing. Shocking and fully insane, may also be the perfect way to describe it.

As you lie down beside him in the tight space of the plush sofa bed, you look at his face closely, still unable to believe that what just happened was real. 

“I mean, whatever works. As long as you enjoyed it,” you find yourself saying this to him as you try to process this moment. 

Because everything feels like a dream. 

Except what remains from your orgasm still lingers like a murmur through your entire body, showing you how real everything was. There is the slickness you still feel oozing out of you when you shift closer to him. Not to mention the soreness between your legs that is still present.

Even lying down side by side with him like this doesn’t feel real at all. You may have spent the past few weeks flirting, teasing, and even satisfying each other. Yet post-coital intimacy has never been a thing to share between you. 

Never before tonight. 

“Me? What about you? I thought I was paying my debts to you?” he asks you with a tease, though he seems genuinely curious to hear your answer. 

“I—” you try to speak, feeling a tug at your heartstrings knowing that he cares. “I thoroughly enjoyed it.” Your smile grows when you see him smiling at your answer. “Let’s just say that it was a good start to pay back what I’m owed.” 

Hearing this, Hanbin laughs. 

He surprises you once again when he pulls you to his chest and gives you a kiss, as if it is the most normal thing for him to do. And you return his kiss as easily as though you are two regular lovers. As if this isn’t the first time you are being this close. To be this intimate, aside from the special arrangement that you have made with each other. 

“Can we—” he says breathlessly as he breaks away from the kiss. “Can we continue like this for a while, just until this tour is over?” 

Just like that, any hope that had a chance to bloom in your chest is depleted. Disappointment washes through you for thinking that this actually has an expiration date. Just when you finally have the courage to admit your true feelings. 

But then your spirit is quickly lifted when Hanbin continues to add, “Once we’re done with this tour and later when we’re back home, let’s talk about this further. That is, only if you want to. I just don’t want you to think that I’m only taking advantage of you and forget everything once we’re back.” 

This time, when you feel that unsolicited hope brewing in your chest again, you do nothing to suppress it or hold it in. You don’t even try to deny it. There is no point in denying it now, after all. As it will always be there, no matter what you do to ignore it. 

And now that the final line has been crossed, you know that there is no turning back. 

“Sure, I’d like that,” you whisper to him with a smile, and with a genuine trust knowing that Hanbin always keeps his words to you.

Just like how he keeps his words about spending the entire night making up to you for all the favours that you are owed. 

Hours later, as the bus continues its journey towards its next destination, both you and Hanbin are still huddled up in the back cabin. The room has grown hot, and the passion that you share has yet to come down. 

A soft moan escapes you when he rocks his hips, pumping deeper into you in a series of rapid thrusts, and he quickly presses a finger on your lips to stop you from making too much noise. “Keep your voice down, baby. You’ll wake everyone,” he urgently whispers. 

Being in your current position, with your folded knees sinking deeper into the sofa and your hands barely able to hold your upper body up against his relentless pounding coming from behind, it really is becoming impossible for you to hold back. “I can’t,” you whisper to him between your strained moans. “It’s too much.” 

After a series of orgasms that he has been giving you all night, with only a brief reprieve taken when you took a break to have dinner—specially delivered to you by Shawn and the dancers while you were both busy in the back—it really is becoming a bit too much. 

Your body has taken a lot of his rough lovemaking that a single thrust is enough to ignite the sparks within you. Your skin has grown too warm, your pussy is tender, and your muscles are getting too sore to keep you up. 

“I know, I’m so sorry. Just a little bit more, okay?” he pleads with you as he continues thrusting in and out of you, slowly quickening his pace as he feels the spasms of your climax rising yet again, with your muscles pressing around his cock in a possessive grip. 

You bend forward and lift your hips higher to take everything that he is giving you. While his words echo through your mind as you embrace the building pleasure, reminding you of the promise that he gave to you earlier. 

Until this tour is over. 

Just one more show. 

You hold on to those words to gain strength. But after what you are experiencing tonight, and after witnessing the adrenaline rush that went through him after tonight’s show, the final arrangement waiting for you at the end of this tour no longer seems to be an easy fix. 

“I doubt that it’ll be anything ‘little’ when it comes to you,” you retort back to him with a moan, “you’re insatiable.” 

Hanbin lets out a soft chuckle as he presses a kiss on your bare shoulder. “It wasn’t my fault this time. You started it first.” 

You hide your smile at his words. Because he was right, after all.

After your tryst continued for a while and you were lying on his side, tracing the lines on his bare chest, the memory of his alluring dance came through your mind. It took you back to the moment you were made to feel hot from the sight of him rocking his hips, and how his sweat-covered chest kept glowing under the stage lights while he was dancing, keeping you under his spell.

That memory gave you the urge to start touching him. Starting with the touch of your fingers tracing down his skin, before you replaced your naughty hands with your lips when you traced the lines on his torso with your kisses. And you kept going lower, and lower, reaching the source of his arousal, until he finally snapped. 

“Guilty as charged,” you admit to him with a deep moan just as he pushes deep into you. “I’ll take all the responsibility for this one.” 

“Good. Because I’m not going easy with you this time,” he says, as he starts thrusting into you harder, faster, while you can only take everything until you are quickly pushed towards the precipice of your climax. 

He makes you bite your ripped panties as he keeps pounding into you, stopping any sounds that may come out through your lips as you embrace your climax. Making sure that your voice won’t wake the boys who are sleeping soundly in their personal bunk beds while the bus continues to drive through the night towards its final destination. 

⤑ Author’s Note | This was supposed to be posted on his birthday, but as always, things don’t always go as planned when it comes to scheduling in my case. I’m glad that I still got to finish this because the idea had been stuck in my head since I’ve been following B.I’s journey through his European tour this year, and I knew that I wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about it if I didn’t write it down right away. I hope you enjoyed this thrilling experience. Please leave kudos/likes, comments, and share/reblog it if you liked what you read. Any other form of feedback is also welcomed. Thank you for reading!

— © 2023 @yoonia (Tomoe Dia), all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any kind, translations, and unsanctioned adaptations are not allowed. | First publication & writing on Nov 10th, 2023

[pisupsala]

Follow Me Where I Go

Or how you stopped worrying and learned to love trouble.

John "Bucky" Egan x female!reader Part 2 of Are You Going My Way?

Words: 8.5k Warnings: smut, 18+

“Dance with me.”

“No.” 

Bucky towers over you even as he casually leans against the dance hall bar while you sip your drink. You lock eyes with him before looking off the side. His gaze follows your line of vision. Matron is hovering near the dance floor, looking like she just swallowed a lemon. Bucky looks back at you, grinning. He’s standing too close to you, moving even closer when he speaks, leaning toward you as he listens. When he touches you — fleetingly putting his hand on your waist, brushing past you, lightly bumping his hand against yours — you feel that same spark as when he kissed you. 

You’ve never had someone vie for your attention so persistently, so overwhelmingly, so intensely. At moments, you’re not sure if you want to bask in it forever or just fall through the floor from awkwardness. Sometimes, you think Bucky might just enjoy you telling him no, whether because he clearly doesn’t get told no very often or because he can tell everything, but your mouth is saying yes. It’s the most delightful kind of trouble, but trouble nonetheless.

Whatever it is, he is making damn sure you only have eyes for him. 

The singing, the touching, the way Bucky always finds you. His eyes fix on you from across the room, popping up in places where he has no business being as a force of habit now, stealing a kiss the moment he sees an opening. 

Your roommates like to joke that you have Major John Egan on a string. It would certainly appear so. But you know better. If you have him on a string, it’s he who is doing the pulling.

In a sudden rush, airmen crowd the bar. Someone bumps into you, your drink spilling over your sleeve. Yelping, you put it down, but before you can turn around in indignation, Bucky pulls you into him, boxing you in between his strong arms, wedging you between his body and the bar. Safe from the surrounding push but right in his crosshairs. The tip of his nose is brushing along the side of your neck. He nips at your jaw. Bucky revels in hearing the small, quivering sigh, your hand gripping the edge of the bar so hard it’s turning your knuckles white. 

If Bucky has realized one thing about you, it’s that you don’t like breaking rules. It’s like you are not used to it. By all means, you move comfortably and serenely between the constraints of your job, rarely complaining about the rigid rules imposed by the Matron. However, it’s not that you lack an adventurous streak; you just do things on your own terms. He can tease you all he wants, goad you into action, and you will look him straight in the eye — flustered, licking your lips in anticipation, breath shallow — and coldly tell him no. You have the worst poker face but the strongest resolve.

And yet. 

It’s worth it because it makes it all the sweeter when you relent. Like now. Once you are sure you both have blended into the crowd at the bar, you spin around to face Bucky, biting your lip. The grin on his face tells you that he has been waiting for this. You grin back coyly. When you reach for him, cupping his face, he easily allows you to pull him into a searing kiss. The music suddenly sounds far away; the surrounding voices are drowned out — he is in his own little bubble with you. 

When you pull away a fraction, breathless, he eagerly captures your lips again. There are few—too few, in Bucky’s opinion—moments when he gets you like this. When your attention is on him, and only him. When you choose to break out of the neat little mold of an army nurse, you are extraordinarily alluring—from your fiery kiss to your soft, curious hands. It’s exhilarating, it’s addictive. You are only like that for him.

“John,” Your whisper, so tender and clear, cuts through his heated thoughts. Pulling away, you lick your lips—it tastes like Bucky’s smokey whiskey. He pulls you closer again, hands running up your sides.

“One more, Dove,” He murmurs against your lips. 

“Just one?” You giggle, chastely pressing your lips against his. He kisses you slowly, longingly. It makes your insides quake like nothing else when he does this. You thought Bucky was all about fun, but this isn’t fun. You thought he sparked like electricity, but this isn’t a shock to the system. It’s searingly intense in its tenderness and earnestness, leaving you speechless, helplessly clinging to him.  

He doesn’t grin or smirk at you; he doesn’t bask in his apparent victory — he just holds you like you are the only two people in the room. And at least for a moment, even John Egan has nothing to say.

Someone bumps into Bucky’s elbow, breaking the moment. You smell the pipe smoke. The color drains from your face because you know exactly who just approached the bar next to your romantic display.

“Doctor,” You greet, trying to keep your voice from cracking. Your hands fall from Bucky’s shoulders as if that makes you look any less guilty. You just hope letting go will actually cause you to fall through the floor now. “Nurse,” He replies, all too calmly, nodding at you before signaling the barman for another drink.

“Smokey,” Bucky sounds bored. 

“Major,” 

You look at your shoes, embarrassed, fidgeting with your hands. You wish you could put more space between Bucky and yourself, but there is nowhere for you to move. You are so unused to being in trouble, flustered so quickly that it’s adorable to Bucky. Caught red-handed, you might as well own it. So, instead of stepping back, he tucks you against him so you can hide your face against his chest, kissing the top of your head. A small noise of mortification escapes you.

“I’m not going to give you grief, nurse,” The doctor sounds wonderfully unbothered — he understands there is no regulation, no rule book, or punishment that will keep people, lonely and far away from home, from finding comfort in each other. “Just be sure Matron doesn’t see; you’ll be scrubbing baseboards for the rest of the month.” He adds almost jauntily.

“Yes, Doctor,” Your voice sounds much more confident than you feel, but you make no attempt to move away, content with hiding your face against Bucky’s jacket.

“That said, Bucky.” The doctor pauses to puff on his pipe before looking at the pair of you pointedly. “She’s one of my best. Take care not to get her sent away, will you?”

You hear Bucky's deep rumble of laughter resonate through his chest. It’s such a strangely sweet sensation—you heard his laugh before anyone else did. His fingers move soothingly down your spine.

“I’m quite partial to having her around myself.”

***

It’s one of those nights that if not everyone at the table were dressed in uniforms, you’d forget the circumstances of how you all came to be in a pub in a small town in East Anglia playing an entirely too intense game of Oh, Hell. It’s a Friday night, packed — you are sat snugly at the corner table, between the wall and Bucky, who seems to keep finding excuses to move closer to you. His knee is brushing against your leg; he keeps finding a reason to touch you, he whispers in your ear. You are unsure if Bucky is trying to get at you, your nerves, or the hand of cards that you are holding. 

You are not supposed to be out this late, but you’ve come to find out it’s becoming harder to say no. Sometimes, you have the nagging feeling that your days with Bucky are numbered. It’s like a dark little splotch in the back of your mind — a small, creeping eclipse. You never mention it to Bucky. Speaking it would make it true. 

And it’s so easy to forget when you are around him. The weeks and the days pass in a blur. Your heart soars every time he steps off that plane, every time you hear that bicycle bell after a mission. Every kiss is electric and sparks new depths of your attraction to Bucky.

Trouble was never this sweet or this persistent.

You brush his hand off your leg, again, decidedly not looking at Bucky but keeping your cards close to your chest and talking to Gale and Charles across the table from you. “So, what exactly happened to that narwhal tusk?” 

Gale smiles but doesn’t look up from his cards. He is entirely too cool and level-headed to get distracted from making his play. “I recall unicorns were to blame,” He simply replies before grabbing two matches from the pile. “I bet two.” 

“None for me,” Bucky smoothly puts his cards face down on the table before returning to you. You can feel his eyes boring into the side of your face as you chew your lip, trying to weigh the odds — each has five cards. Charles is playing for one. Gale is confident that he’ll win two hands. Bucky is playing for none. Which, in his case, means nothing in terms of whether he drew a good or bad hand. John Egan deals in chaos — he wins as long as everyone else loses. And considering he has a seventy-five-point lead, he’s a deft hand at it.

As he leans into you, you know he’s about to say something to annoy and distract you. So before a word can make it out of his mouth, before that infectious grin wipes you of all rational thought, you gently put your index finger against his lips. It stops him dead in his tracks for a mere second. From the heated look in his eyes, it’s clear this wasn’t a deterrent; it’s fuel on the fire.

“I bet three,” you announce lightly, trying not to look too flustered. Bucky grabs your hand and kisses your fingertips. 

Gale politely pushes three matches your way.

“That’s how you shut him up, then?” Charles jokes. “Any other tricks you’d be willing to share?” The whole table bursts out laughing. You just grin into your wine.

You first notice something is off when a fellow nurse suddenly dashes past and disappears into the men's room. Suddenly, chairs around the room scrape, and a mad scramble of heels is on the wooden floor. Belatedly, you look at the pub's entrance and realize that the Matron just walked in, rollers in her hair, apoplectic. 

“Shit,” You breathe in panic, starting to get up out of your hair, hoping you can hide before Matron sees you, but you are completely stuck between the table, the wall, and Bucky. You freeze — you are going to be in so much trouble. You’re going to be cleaning the whole infirmary. You’ll be redoing the entire inventory. She might transfer you away. 

She might send you home.

Your stomach plummets.

Bucky’s hand, suddenly pushing down on the crown of your head, shocks you out of your paralysis.

“Get down,” He says calmly like this is a completely normal request. As you clearly were not the type to sneak out or break the rules, and all things considered, you have a pretty poor fight-or-flight reaction.

Almost stupidly, you allow him to push you under the table, crouching on your hands and knees in the cramped space between the table legs and the men’s legs. Gale moves his legs out of the way, giving you some space, while Bucky motions you to come closer to him, gently guiding you to kneel between his legs. Above you, the conversation resumes like nothing happened. 

Quietly, you try to find a comfortable position in the small space, taking care not to bump your head against the tabletop. Finally, you settle by leaning your cheek against the inside of Bucky’s knee and resting your hands on his thigh. His muscles flex under your touch, and Bucky shifts slightly in his seat.

The sound of heels marching over the wooden floor is like a death knell.

“Gentlemen,” the Matron says, standing so close to the table that you can see the shoddily repaired ladder on her nylon. “It’s past curfew, and I have several nurses missing from their rooms.” She looks sharply around the table, probably noticing your oddly abandoned seat, slapped-down hand of cards, and half-empty drink.

“No nurses at this table, Captain,” Gale responds coolly — not quite lying. Charles busies himself looking at his cards.

Bucky doesn’t even bother responding, lazily smoking his cigarette. He is currently trying very hard not to think about you kneeling between his legs — your fingers pressing into his muscle, your face so tantalizingly close.

“Are you sure, Major?” Matron presses. “Awful lot of chairs unoccupied in this pub for a Friday night” She trails off as she looks around the room. 

Under the table, you cringe, tightening your grip on Bucky’s leg. She never takes any answer at face value. Your knees are hurting by now, but you don’t dare move with her standing less than a foot away from you.

“That’s Hambone’s.” Crank supplies helpfully.

Several voices call out for Hambone, who you assume must be hanging around somewhere close. Your heart is beating in your throat. Bucky’s leg presses into you as Hambone clambers over the back of the chair. The conversation picks up naturally — they are all pretending like he’s been sitting there all along; that’s his hand on the table. You can’t help but wonder how many times they have pulled this little gambit before or if it’s a side effect of the blind trust forged between the men. No questions asked; just play along.

“White wine, lieutenant?” Matron intones mildly—your breath stocks. You should have really picked a less… obvious drink.

“I like what I like,” Hambone shrugs, downing the glass in one go. He puts the glass down less than gently. “It’s still alcohol.”

Bucky shifts his leg nervously, bumping into your shoulder.

“Major Cleven, Major Egan.” Matron looks down at them sharply, like a teacher about to scold children. Buck remains polite, looking at her as she speaks, while Bucky barely tries to conceal his contempt. “If you happen to see any of my nurses, I expect you to act in your capacity as senior officers and report them to me.”

“And if we don’t?” 

Your nails dig into Bucky’s leg. Shut up.

“Major Egan, you would interfere with Army procedures like that?”

“If we see any stray nurses around,” Buck cuts in before Bucky can reply. “We will be sure to let the Captain know, won’t we, Bucky?”

“Sure,” He agrees curtly. “Goodnight now, Captain.” He dismisses the Matron bluntly, turning his attention back to the card game.

Matron hesitates; you can tell by the uncertain shuffle of her feet. She’s just been dismissed by a superior officer, although she clearly wasn’t done with the conversation. Having her put in her place like that should not bring you joy. It should not give you a warm, fuzzy feeling when you listen to Bucky give an order like that. After an awkward pause, Matron finally bids the table goodnight. You watch her walk away, finally disappearing in the mass of legs near the bar.

You release the breath you didn’t realize you had been holding, finally shifting on your aching knees with a small groan. Bucky is doing everything in his power to pretend he didn’t hear that. You just hope Matron finishes her round of the pub quickly  — there really is no comfortable position in the cramped space under the table.

Bucky reaches under the table, stroking your cheek. Your heart nearly stops at the loving touch. He never ceases to surprise you with how tender he can be in these small moments — when he allows himself to let all the bluster and the jokes fall by the wayside. You lean into his touch with a sigh. 

“Is it safe yet?” You ask in a small voice.

“Currently,” Bucky glances over his shoulder. “The Captain is looking for you at the bottom of a martini glass.” 

“Bitch,” Your muffled voice sounds so acutely indignant, Bucky inclines his head to look under the table.

You peer up back at him with those big eyes; your lips slightly parted — fuck. He had thought of you in that exact position more than he would like to admit, but seeing you on your knees in front of him like that gives his half-formed fantasies substance. You pout, leaning against his knee again, waiting for the danger to pass. 

Matron has another two rounds. At this rate, she will at least be unable to hear you and your fellow nurses sneak back into the dormitory. The moment Matron walks out the door, the whole pub sighs a collective sigh of relief.   

“Come here, Dove,” Bucky offers his hand to pull you back up. Hambone makes no attempt to vacate your seat. Bucky doesn’t care as he pulls you into his lap despite your protests about losing a good hand. And you drink. 

Instead, he busies himself with brushing the dirt off your bruising knees, his hand dipping under the hem of your skirt for a quick second. You narrow your eyes at him, pushing his hand away.

“You have to be nice to me,” He smiles warmly at you. “I saved you.”

“You almost got me into trouble in the first place,” You retort levelly. “Again,” You add, looking at him sharply.

Bucky’s fingers gently wrap around your chin, pulling your face close to his. “Allow me to remind you, Dove,” His voice is low, warm like melted chocolate as he squeezes your hip — it’s the only thing you can focus on; everything else fades into the background. “You invited this trouble, insisted on it even.” 

“What can I say?” You murmur innocently, refusing to admit that he is technically correct. “Trouble follows me where I go.” 

Between Bucky and sips of his whiskey, your head is spinning as he leads you down the street of the small village. You split off from the rest a while ago. Giggling, you pull him into a dark corner between two buildings. With your arms around his neck, he accepts your eager kisses.

“And you have the audacity to call me trouble,” He comments, laughing as you push him up against the wall.

“I’m only repaying the favor,” You breathe against his lips, nimbly unbuttoning his uniform jacket, desperate to get closer to him. Feeling the definition of Bucky’s chest and how his muscles move through the layers of fabric thrills you. His hands run down your sides, grasping your hips, pulling you closer. Bucky relishes in your gentle voice and the caring touches that come so naturally to you. But he enjoys cracking through that sweet exterior even more, following your feverish lead, the way you unashamedly rub yourself against him, and your unabashed hunger for him. 

“You know what you want so well, Dove,” He encourages you. “I like that about you.” 

“I just want you,” You manage breathlessly between kisses, so lost in the moment, so lost in every touch, not really thinking about what you’re saying. Quickly, Bucky turns you around so your back is against the wall. Sure, he likes you showing him what you want, and whether it’s the whiskey or the tension that has been building all night — this is the most forward you’ve been. And he’ll be damned if he’s not going to make the most of this precious moment, now that he has you like this, all to himself.

Lightly tracing his hand over your leg, he hitches up the hem of your skirt. It bunches up around his wrist as he moves upwards. You are looking at him in anticipation, taking deep breaths to steady yourself, stroking the side of his face softly as you shift your stance, allowing him to move further. 

“Just me?” He rasps. His fingertips lightly graze the fabric of your panties, studying your reaction carefully. 

“Yes,” You keen, rolling your hips against his hand. He thought a lot about the delicious sway of your hips when you walk and how it would feel if you moved against him, wrapped around him, the soft, warm flesh of your thighs pressed against his wrist. There is nothing calculated about your movements, only the intuitive pursuit of pleasure. 

“No one else?” It’s as much possessive as it’s an admission of vulnerability. 

“Of- of course not,” You stutter in confusion, pulling back a fraction. The worry etched on your face melts away the moment Bucky’s fingers slip past the elastic of your panties into your warmth. You are so wet for him already, so sensitive that the smallest touches make your eyes flutter in pleasure.

“Good,” Bucky murmurs against your lips possessively, needing to feel your every gasp and breath. “Because that would break my heart.” 

You don’t think Bucky is joking. He doesn’t sound like he’s joking. It doesn’t feel like he is joking. A too-sincere confession in the heat of the moment like only he could make, leaving you reeling between the physical sensation of his deft fingers and the soul-searing candidness of his words. You would never have imagined that it would be in your power to change anything about the way that Bucky moves through this world, let alone that he would admit to you that you have the capability to break his heart.

“What about me?” The words tumble from your mouth all wrong, jumbled in a stream of strangely disconnected thoughts and lustful moans. Fighting through the amorous haze, you blink up at Bucky, trying to find a way to re-arrange your question into something more coherent. Until a few seconds ago, you were sure you were the only one in danger of heartbreak in this situation. 

“You,” He replies softly, brushing the tip of his nose against yours, as your breath quickens and your stomach feels tight. “Can have anything you ask for.”

***

It’s the waiting that is the worst. When there is nothing left to do or prepare, you just stand there, scrubbed in. Listening. When you hear the faint roar of the airplane engines, you hold your breath and try to count how many you hear on approach. It’s always too few.

After that, within minutes, the doors to the OR will swing open, and the medics will storm in, carrying the worst casualties. The longer you stay at Thorpe Abbots, the more names and faces you recognize on the operating table.

But the agony doesn’t end there.

Inevitably, when you walk out of the OR, you find out who didn’t make it back. Whispers go around about how many parachutes were seen and where they went down. Rarely does someone admit that they couldn’t have made it out. 

The knot of nerves in your stomach has been weighing you down since you got up that sunny morning. It is the oddest feeling, and you cannot figure out what has gotten into you. Your hands shake as you sterilize equipment; lunch looks even more unappetizing than usual. Your Bucky is not flying today; he’s up in London for R&R. He’s coming back tomorrow, but you don’t feel that kind of nervous. It’s not excitement. 

It’s dread.

You don’t mention it to anyone — it would be bad luck. Instead, you stretch your arms and flex your fingers to relieve the tremors. You force down your lunch, chatting with your fellow nurses. You do everything as you do every day, and a mission is flown. 

Standing at attention in the OR, you listen. It’s an eternity before you finally hear the sound of a plane on approach. And then another. 

Nothing.

It's too long of nothing.

For an uncomfortably long time, you just stand there, listening. That couldn’t have been all of them. Surely, the rest must have been delayed. The minutes tick by. Even as the first casualties come in, everyone works in grave silence. But not another plane passes. You look across the operating table at your fellow nurse. She looks ashen under her mask. The doctor won’t even meet your eye.

As the remaining crews — those who did make it back — filter out the interrogation, the whispers start. At dinner, no one is even pretending to eat.

So many crews lost—Major Cleven’s among them. For now, designated MIA.

Your heart aches for every one lost. Your heart aches for Bucky. 

You have no idea how Bucky has taken the news because although you know he’s returned, you have not seen him. Bucky has not sought you out; you haven’t even caught a glimpse of him in passing. It’s like he’s suddenly a ghost — you hear how he moves about the base, how he’s torn into the CO and Air Exec, how he’s torn into Mission Planning — always, everywhere, just around the corner, a shadow in the corner of your eye.

After four days, you’ve had enough. You can’t stand the pitying looks from your roommates anymore. 

Oh, I’m so sorry.

He hasn’t spoken to you yet? 

I saw him near the officer’s club today.

He’ll come to you — I heard he’s flying soon.

He doesn’t get to do this to you, you decide. He doesn’t get to kiss you like that and say all those things to you only to all but disappear. If Bucky won’t come see you, you’ll go find him.

You’re not on duty tonight, but you should take care to look at the part. Matron would be proud of you: hair neatly pinned, not a crease on your seersucker dress, your navy cape and white oxfords spotless. A neatly wrapped brown paper package with a pill bottle prescribed by Doctor Stover. Although, he might not strictly speaking remember signing that prescription of sleeping pills. It’s part means to an end, part because you believe Bucky might actually need them. 

You've observed that Bucky always easily moves through every situation and effortlessly maintains control. It's like he is right where he’s supposed to be, and subsequently, no one really stops him. And if they do, he just blusters past them. That’s the kind of confidence you don’t have, but you better start finding it quickly now if you’re going to pull this off.

You walk with purpose, smiling politely as you greet the officers and servicemen you pass. It’s just coming up to 9 PM on a summer’s evening — the sun has barely set, and everyone is trying to make the most of the rare free hours of sunshine. You make it all the way to the men’s barracks before the officer on duty stops you from entering the building where you are pretty sure Bucky’s room is.

“Anything I can help you with, lieutenant?” The young officer inquiries suspiciously. 

“I’m tasked with delivering this to Major Egan,” Forcing a smile on your face that you hope doesn’t look too artificial, you hold up the small package. 

“Let me take that for you,” he offers, reaching for the package. “Major Egan is in a foul mood; a nice nurse like yourself should not be on the receiving end of that.” 

Chuckling nervously, you snatch the package out of the officer’s reach. “Are you a nurse too, lieutenant?” You blurt out.

“I’m sorry?” 

“Medication can only be distributed by medical personnel,” You recover quickly, your voice pleasant, although the back of your neck is prickling with sweat. “Army procedure — doctor’s orders,” You add chaotically. 

The corner of your mouth is quivering slightly under the pressure of maintaining your smile. The duty officer looks at you strangely before finally shrugging.

“Major Egan’s room is at the end of the hall, to the left.”

Heart pounding, you thank him before entering the building.

As expected, there is no reply when you knock on the door. 

“Bucky?” You try softly. “It’s me.” 

Nothing.

“Bucky?” 

You listen with bated breath for any sign of life on the other side of the door. With shaking hands, irrationally terrified of what you will find, you try to open the door. To your surprise, it clicks open.

Tentatively, you step into the darkened room. It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust and get your bearings. Bucky is on the bed, half under the covers, lying on his stomach, with one arm propping up his pillow and facing the wall. 

“John?” You venture softly. He doesn’t reply, doesn’t stir. As you step closer, you note his slow, deep breaths—the slow, deep breaths of someone pretending to be asleep. You hesitate. Maybe you shouldn’t have come here; he doesn’t want to see you to the point of ignoring you for almost a week. He lost his best friend. He’s lost so many. You understand, but you can’t help but feel the sting of his silence a little.

“I brought you something to help you sleep,” You continue. Standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, the small brown package feels oddly heavy in your hands. Bucky still doesn’t respond, not even the slightest change to his breathing. 

Extravert, talkative, center of attention, John Egan grieves in stern silence. 

Carefully stepping over Bucky’s boots and clothes, which are strewn across the floor, you place the package on the nightstand next to his bed. He is still stubbornly pretending to sleep. You should go. Bucky doesn’t want to talk to you, and you shouldn’t impose. 

But something doesn’t feel right. Nervously, you rub your fingers over the hem of your woolen mantle. It’s like Bucky’s darkness is radiating from him, sucking all the air from the room. In your heart, you understand that he shouldn’t be alone.

After unclipping your mantle, folding it, and placing it on the ground, you gingerly sit down on the edge of the narrow bed. There is still no reaction, although at this point, you don't expect anything from Bucky. You just want him to know you are here. Leaning over him, soothingly brushing your fingers over his temple, you notice that his stormy blue eyes are open, firmly fixed on the wall. It’s not the only thing you see, even in the room's darkness.

“Di-” Did someone punch you in the face? The words die on your tongue. You retract your hand to stop yourself poking at the bruise. 

He is so stubborn — eyes open, pretending to sleep. Bruise on his face, not a blink. It’s clear Bucky doesn’t want you to do anything for him. You are not here to play nurse to him, you remind yourself. He doesn’t need you to make sure he takes his medicine and ice his wounds. Everything about his actions is screaming that he doesn’t need you. He doesn’t want you. But he shouldn’t be alone.

Taking a deep breath for courage, you toe off your white Oxfords, untie your cap, and carefully lie down behind him, just on the edge of the bed, over the covers. It takes you a moment to settle. You wrap your arm around him, although you can barely reach over the broad expanse of his torso. You hold on to his undershirt at his ribs, pressing your cheek into his back. You match your breathing to his.

Your synchronized breathing is the only movement in the room for a few minutes. Finally, Bucky stirs. Nervously, you wait to see what he will do. He doesn’t get up or acknowledge you in any way. He reaches for your hand, unlatching it from his shirt as he turns to his side, his back still to you. You brace yourself, expecting Bucky to push you away.

Instead, his grip on your hand tightens as he pulls you closer, placing your palm over his sternum and anchoring it in place with his large hand. You scoot closer to him, shimmying your legs under the covers and pressing yourself fully into him. Bucky hooks his ankle on yours, tangling your foot between his. You are wrapped around him, listening to his heartbeat. You stay there, finally feeling his breathing steadying naturally, his heartbeat slowing.

Bucky didn’t want to talk, but he didn’t want to be alone either.

He just didn’t want you to see him like this when he’s so not like himself. Or maybe that’s the problem: he is exactly like this, but he doesn’t want you to know that. He doesn’t want to spoil, poison, how you think of him. Most people, Buck being pretty much the only exception, wisely avoid him when he’s in his dark moods. Bucky couldn’t bear the thought of you doing the same. So he convinced himself not to seek out you as a mercy to himself—a bitter mercy, in the hope you’d still be there when he came around.

But you came to find him. He realizes he underestimated you in that respect. Of course, you would never just stand by, sit pretty, and wait for things to resolve themselves. You walked through pouring rain with a busted boot, making your way home through darkness and icy winds. You do things on your own terms.

He’s just glad that you’re here now rather than leaving him and all the trouble he brings you behind. It calms the storm in him enough to finally fall into a deep sleep.

It’s hours later—it must be—when you startle awake. You are still in the same position you fell asleep, tangled up with Bucky. He is still fast asleep. You blink against the darkness in the room, trying to focus your vision on something that will tell you the time. Gently, you extricate yourself from Bucky, quickly checking the time on his silver watch that had been discarded on the nightstand. It’s barely 4:30 — plenty of time to get ready for your shift. But if you want to sneak out unnoticed, you should get going before the whole base wakes up.

Tiptoeing around the room, you try to fix your hair in a bun in the darkened reflection of the small mirror — just so it doesn’t look so obviously slept in before you tie your nurses’ cap back on. Your dress is hopelessly wrinkled.

Behind you, Bucky groans, rolling over in the bed. 

“C’mere,” His voice is thick with sleep.

You look over to him, bun untwisting between your suddenly unsteady hands. Bucky is motioning to you, arms outstretched invitingly. The sheets are pooled around his waist; his normally carefully styled dark curls are a delicious mess. Powerless against his magnetic pull, you drop your cap on the floor as you climb back into his bed, into his waiting arms.

“Thank you,” he whispers, his voice still rough. He pulls you against him, kissing your forehead. Your fingers run through his tussled hair. 

“Of course,” You breathe, tilting your head up, hoping to get another kiss. Bucky’s hungry mouth on yours is almost more than you bargained for, hand running up your dress, over the top of your stocking, hiking your leg over his hip. His movements are deliberate, intense. Your breath hitches between the fiery kisses as you try to find equilibrium from his roaming hands. Where before he would playfully tug at the ribbon keeping your wrap dress closed, he now single-handedly undoes the knot, pushing the dress open.

“Bucky,” You gasp, pushing against his chest, trying to slow him at least down. “John,”

“You didn’t think you could come crawling into my bed and then play this innocent, did you?” He is smirking at you, hand now firmly planted on your ass, squeezing.

“I - I didn’t-” You swallow dryly. Bucky notices that you are pumping the breaks — eyes wide, hand planted against his chest  — so he switches gears. Gently rolling you onto your back, Bucky sits up on his knees, slowly running his hands over your thighs. He leans forward, pressing kisses against the swell of your breast, peeking out from under your slip dress, up your neck, along your jawline.

“Just let me take care of you,” He hums against the sensitive skin of your throat. “Like you took care of me,”

“I didn’t do anything.” You try to make sense of the feverish thoughts, your hands aimlessly traveling up Bucky’s arms, the muscles taut under your touch.

“You stayed,” he replies simply before capturing your lips in another searing kiss. You had so many reasons and every chance to walk out last night. He certainly didn’t make a very enticing choice, but you chose him anyway when he probably least deserved it. All he can do now is make you don’t regret it.

He’s pulling at your dress, dragging it over your shoulders, flinging it somewhere into the room. You struggle to keep up, yanking up Bucky’s shirt over his head, dog tags jangling on his neck. Bucky is shimmying the slip over your hips, pooling it under your breasts. You curl up, allowing him to pull it over your head. His body is on yours — skin to skin. It’s a beautiful feeling; so warm, so intimate. You run your nails over Bucky’s broad shoulders, getting acquainted with every ridge, bump, and rippling muscle under the skin.

Bucky rolls his hips into yours, drinking in your reaction — the gasping breath, the soft moan, the pleading look in your eyes. He needs to feel something. Something to fill that gaping hole in his chest, something to stem the simmer of crushing anger and pain before he loses grip on it. 

Thankfully, you have so much to give, and give it to him so freely. Bucky wants to drown in your soft skin, every gasp and moan of his name torn from your lips, your loving touch. He wants you to make him forget for just a moment that his best friend has gone down behind enemy lines and how many more friends he has lost already. He wants to feel something else that isn’t the crushing weight of the world that no amount of alcohol and no punch to the face could make him forget. 

Somewhere in the frenzied movement, Bucky skillfully rids you of the rest of your undergarments.

“You’re so beautiful, Dove,” he breathes, looking down at you, naked, hair splayed over his pillow. “Fuck, you’re so pretty like this.” 

He's straining against his shorts, but he also wants to savor this moment with you. And in that moment of quiet, you realize you should tell him. You've never been with anyone like this before — never gone this far.

But the second his body covers yours again, his lips on yours, all hesitation dissipates together with the rest of your rational thinking. It feels too good, and you don’t want to stop now. Experimentally, your fingers dance over his chest, down to his stomach. Bucky twitches under your touch — breathing ragged between hungry kisses covering your body. His teeth tug at your nipple, tearing a loud moan from you. You’ve never experienced pain so pleasurably.

Bucky’s hands also roam over your body, squeezing and caressing every curve and dip with reverence. He traces a finger down the length of your spine before cupping your ass and pulling you closer to him. You can feel his hard length pressing against you through the thin fabric of his shorts.

You suppose you should feel nervous, but every bit of your body and mind is already entirely occupied with Bucky; there simply isn’t room. All you can think about is how you want to feel him, how you want him to feel you. If you’re not ready now, if you are not sure now, with Bucky, then you doubt you’ll ever be. 

Bucky’s fingers travel down your ribs, tickling the small of your waist, caressing your hipbone, ghosting over your slit. You arch into him, your hips jerking against his touch.

“Tell me what you want, Dove.” He grins against your mouth.

You doubt you could find the words. Maybe talking is overrated anyway.

“John,” You just keen softly, biting down on your lip as you grab his hand and guide his fingers inside to rub small circles over your clit.

“You are a demanding little thing, aren’t you?” Bucky teases, although he is enjoying this immensely — your small hand over his, showing him exactly what you want, the little domineering edge to your actions. You keep surprising him in the best ways — beyond the sweet and caring, you know what you want and how to get it. And he will gladly give all to you.

You muffle a moan against the crook of his neck as Bucky starts to move his fingers in a slow rhythm, curling them just right to make you start clenching around him. He knows what you like — he has had you come apart by hand. But having so eager, so needing yet assertive while naked under him, is everything he needs right now.

Bucky’s fingers continue to move inside you, sending waves of pleasure through your body. Your mind is hazy with desire as you grind against his hand, wanting more of his touch.

“Like- like that,” You whimper, your hips moving feverishly against his hand — your hand is tangled in his hair, tugging at his messy curls. “Don’t stop, please - fuck,” You breathe.

Bucky smirks, moving his fingers faster, and adds a second one, pushing them deeper inside of you. You shudder at the feeling, unable to contain the moans escaping your mouth. You can feel yourself getting close to the edge — you know that Bucky can sense it, too.

“Shh, Dove,” He leans down to capture your lips in a passionate kiss to silence as his fingers keep working you to a climax. “You’ll wake everyone up like that — or do you want an audience?” He chuckles. You can feel his hot breath against your ear.

“No,” you giggle at his words despite your brain being close to short-circuiting. “I don’t like to share,” You add with a soft sigh, wrapping your arms around Bucky’s neck, holding onto him tightly as the pleasure builds within you. Bucky captures every moan and sigh that he tears from you.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” He whispers against your skin, his voice rough with desire. “So responsive and needy for me.”

Your breath hitches, your body trembling as the pleasure builds within you. Bucky’s words only fuel the fire that is consuming you.  Bucky can feel how close you are getting, and he knows that it won’t take much for you to reach your climax. His fingers move faster inside you. The feeling of fullness is overwhelming, yet not enough.

“Come for me, Dove,” Bucky urges, nipping at your earlobe, encouraging you so sweetly to let go. A wave of ecstasy consumes you as you cry out Bucky’s name into his mouth. Your body shakes, contorting against him, as the orgasm washes over you, leaving you breathless, eyes closed, floating between. Bucky gives you very little time to recover — you barely register that he’s rid himself of his shorts, wrapping your legs around his waist, his hand clutching your hip, the tip of his cock pressing against your entrance.

“I need you so badly, Dove.” His voice trembles slightly, and his breath is shaky. It’s strange, in a way, how it warms your heart that Bucky allows you to see him, experience him, in these moments of vulnerability. He trusts you with these glimpses of him — beyond the jokes and bluster, beyond the clever comebacks and impulsive challenges — stripped back to the things he keeps hidden.

“I need only you,” You sigh in ecstasy, eyes fluttering as he enters you slowly. It feels tight, but it doesn’t hurt. It feels odd but not wrong. You swallow, shifting awkwardly, trying to accommodate how full you feel, but not sure what to do. Bucky is not moving, his fingers tight on your hip, body tense.

“Fuck, you are so tight,” He groans, eyes screwed shut. Slowly, he starts moving, calculated and deliberate — as much for his own sake as yours. Every time he bottoms out against you, it’s a shock of pleasure that runs through him from his crown to his toes. You are suddenly a lot quieter, breath softly catching with every move, your loving gaze fixed on his face, hands grasping his shoulders, as he draws out of you again with agonizing slowness before driving back in forcefully.

Your nails dig into his shoulders in response to this new pace. He looks down at your body — every supple curve moves as he drives into you, the jiggle of your hips and ass precisely as he imagined it so many times now. Bucky knows he’s not going to last very long if he gives in to how hard he really wants to fuck you. He should make this last; make it good for you. Make sure you keep coming back to him. And only him.

Bucky feels so good, and you cannot help but stare at him. His taut muscles, those broad arms and shoulders, the way he moves with such grace, his face contorted in pleasure—the pleasure of being with you. Intuitively, you move your hips in tandem with him, wanting to feel more. It’s such a small movement, but it elicits a string of curses from Bucky. You almost want to ask if something is wrong, but before you can even start finding the words, Bucky grabs you by the ankle, hitching it over his shoulder, angling your pelvis up. As he drives into you again, so much harder than before, all control and grace suddenly forgotten, your eyes nearly roll into the back of your skull from the overwhelming pleasure. 

He wanted to be nice — he wanted to be gentle, but you are so impossibly beguiling it drives him to madness. He sets a punishing pace, unrelentingly slamming into you now. He presses his face into your ankle, kissing and nipping at the skin. You are crying out incoherently; he hears you swear, repeating his name in ecstasy, clawing at him desperately. 

Bucky wants to remind you to be quiet, but he’s so focused on your walls tightening around his cock, he cannot come up with the words anymore. Bending forward, your leg still hooked over his shoulder and not once breaking pace, his free hand wraps around your mouth, muffling the delicious noises you’ve been making. You look surprised for a second, still under his grip.

“You are so goddamn loud, Dove,” Bucky wrenches out. “And I’m not in a sharing mood,”

The way your eyes crinkle, he can tell you are smiling — you think this is funny. You are actually fucking impossible. Your hands are running up his arms, gripping onto his shoulders tightly, your nails digging into the hard muscle as you buck your hips against his again and again, trying to take him deeper. 

He leans further forward so he can look into your eyes. Something in his gaze makes your heart stutter, an intensity that takes your breath away, smile melting off your face. Then suddenly, he’s moving faster, harder, and the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room. You’re both panting now, sweat slicking your bodies as Bucky’s hips are slamming into yours uncontrollably; he can feel his release rapidly approaching. It’s like fireworks going off in his head, every nerve ending on fire as he desperately chases his own pleasure.

It’s like the flick of a switch that makes the dam break, and he spills into you, his movements coming to a halting stop as he groans out your name, intermingled with curses, like the dirtiest prayer. You keep rolling your hips, every move making him moan and tremble, delighting in watching Bucky helpless against the tide, riding out his orgasm with you.

Finally, he nearly collapses into you, putting all his weight on his forearm so as not to crush you. Bucky’s hair is hanging over his forehead, the sweat on his chest intermingling with yours. Dazed, you grab this hand, pulling it off your lips, softly kissing the tips of his fingers.

Gently, Bucky pulls out of you, wrapping your arms around his neck so he can shift you both on your side. You cuddle up to him, peppering kisses along his jawline, enjoying how his mustache scratches against your cheek. His fingers caress your loose locks as he tries to get this breathing back under control. Brushing Bucky’s messy hair back, he looks relaxed even in the faint light of the room. The tension has left his body, and the darkness consuming darkness has also abated.

“I like it when you look like this.” You confide softly. Bucky looks at you, eyebrow raised.

“Like what?” He asks laughter in his voice. “Fucked out?” 

You shake your head, laughing too. Although you don’t think you will ever be able to look at him normally again — how are you supposed to function now that you know what Bucky looks like, what he sounds like when he comes undone, how gentle and sweet he can be, and how mind-blowingly he can fuck you?

No, you don’t think you’ll ever be able to not think about that when you look at him. And you’re glad.

“I meant when you look relaxed, happy,” You correct. “But yes, fucked out suits you too,” You add a little flippantly.

“Well, lucky me,” Bucky presses his forehead against yours, his tone turning from light to that deep timbre that pulls every string in you. “Because you look delightful in every position.”

After everything you’ve just done, the afterglow actually feels deeper, more intimate. Now that the lustful frenzy has melted away, only softness and fondness remain. Soft kisses, gentle caresses, sweet nothings—anything to fill up the time that is ticking away for you. You know that you will have to get up soon and try to sneak back unseen. If you could, you’d put it off forever.

“I’m flying today,” Bucky announces soberly as you’re pulling your stocking up, sitting on the edge of the bed. You pause, looking at him, waiting for him to continue. He is still sitting in bed, naked and smoking, with covers around his waist. You knew Bucky would be flying soon, probably on the next mission; however, he has never told you explicitly like this. It just never really came up before. When he doesn’t say anything else, you just nod in reply. 

“I won’t be on duty when you come back,” You say, focussing back on getting dressed. 

“So you can wait for me here.” Bucky leans into you, offering you a drag of his cigarette. He’s smiling playfully.

“Here, here?” You joke back, mockingly incredulous, blowing the smoke into the room.

“Preferably,” Bucky presses a kiss onto your exposed neck, close to the messy bun gathered in the nape of your neck. “Right in this bed.”

“How about I come to find you?” You tease, pushing Bucky backward, hand on his chest. “You just focus on what you need to do. I’ll be there.” You assure him with a wink.

[carpisuns]

chapters: 21/21

Summary: Adrien’s favorite color used to be orange. Until Marinette.

An Adrinette fic with short, drabble-y chapters all involving the color pink

21. marinette

“Okay.” With a flourish, she finishes the swirl on the last cupcake and stands back. “Not bad, right?”

She wipes at her forehead with the back of her hand, leaving a tiny smudge of pink frosting behind. A lock of dark hair has escaped from her bun, threading down her shoulder.

“Adrien?” she prompts again. “What do you think?”

“You’re amazing,” he says.

Her lips twist into a smile. “I meant about the cupcakes.”

“Hmm. Let’s see.” He picks one up and raises it to his lips.

“Hey!” She tries to snatch it away, but Adrien has already stuffed the entire thing in his mouth.

“Too slow,” he says, cheeks puffed and voice muffled around a mouthful of vanilla and cherry.

Marinette puts her hands on her hips. “That was supposed to be for Rose’s party.”

He manages to swallow. “I’m sure she’ll survive with only nine hundred ninety-nine cupcakes instead of a thousand. Besides, don’t you want to hear my verdict?”

“Fine. How are they?”

Gently, he settles his hands on her waist. “Amazing. Because you made them. And everything you do is amazing, milady.”

She allows him to draw her closer, till there’s hardly any space left between them. “If you’re trying to be suave, it’s not working. You have frosting on your mouth.”

“Well, feel free to have a taste test.”

She huffs a laugh. “You’re so annoying.”

“Oh, bugaboo. It’s pronounced ‘alluring.’”

“Cut it out with the bugaboos and miladys. You’re gonna give your identity away, and then Master Fu really will take our miraculous.”

He brings his face close to hers, so that their noses are almost touching. “He could never. You heard him. We’re the perfect partners. The dream team.”

She glances at his lips. “That’s … that's not what he said.”

“Close enough.”

He closes the gap between them, capturing her lips with his. Her arms come up to drape around his shoulders, and his own arms tighten around the small of her back.

"Adrien," she murmurs, sighing against his mouth. Then her lips slant against his again, and he’s lost in her.

Marinette is his favorite person, and pink is his favorite color.

Pink like pastries and cotton candy and bubble gum.

Pink like the frosting she kisses from his lips. Like her hands in his hair and his name on her breath. Like her cherry-blossom cheeks and her sunrise smile.

Pink like her heart, in perfect sync with his.

“I love you,” he whispers.

She pulls back, studying his face, like she’s committing it to memory. Her eyes are bright and focused—the way they are when she’s trying to figure out her lucky charm. Like she’s somehow looking at him and in him and through him, all at once.

“I love you too,” she says (pink, like a rose), and the words are washed in red.

They’re the same color, really. He knows that now. Tints of the exact same hue. Ladybug was always pink, and Marinette was always red, and now, with all the pieces drawn together, he can finally recognize all the shades that make her up—from crimson to coral, scarlet to strawberry, and everything in between.

She pulls him back in, lips warm against his, and he can feel her dye him from the inside out, all her colors bleeding through him till his very bones are stained with them. Till he feels them singing through his veins and swelling in his lungs. Till he feels like he might burst with it—his favorite color, the color of her heart.

Love is pink, and so is Marinette.

[hwajin]

— .° ᴍᴀɴɢᴀᴛᴀ | bc !!

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: smut, fluff

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: chan x gn!reader

𝐰𝐜: 1.5k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬/ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: short mention of insecurity/ shyness, unprotected sex, coming inside, had this in my drafts for AGES cuz i thought i posted it already enjoy 😭😭

Careful fingertips on your skin resembling raindrops after a heated day, soothing and calming to touch. The contact across your body in a dance of sweetest nature, and bumps painted your expanse wherever it met. It was distracting, it was reminding of Chan’s presence next to you. Fingers on your stomach, on your chest and on your thighs. Making their journey across the undulating land of your body.

A book in your hand, a phone in Chan's, faint music playing on a laptop your ears had long forgotten to register. The bed beneath you would lull you into sleep if you’d been tired, though the day had started long after noon for the both of you – Chan wasn’t normally one to sleep in, yet the absence of schedules had allowed him to stay by your side longer than usually. You couldn’t complain.

You laid on your stomach, book propped up on the pillow, a warm hand always on the small of your back or the dip of your spine, or the back of your legs – Chan’s fingers had a mind of their own, always seeking for something to touch, more so if he hasn’t been seeing you in a while. You basked in the bit of comfort that provided; as small a gesture as it happened to be, it took your mind off anything for a little while.

Eyes on the letters of the pages though you failed miserably to concentrate – your thoughts wandering to the ever-tantalising dance Chan performed with his fingers on your body, his presence so close in proximity intoxicating your senses – you haven’t seen him in too long to be left cold at his sheer being with you. You turned sideways, facing and causing him to convert his phone so you could see his features, turning it off in the process. A shared smile when you locked eyes, shuffling bodies to lay nearer to the other.

“I’ve missed you.”

The words could have been said simultaneously, both thinking the same and yet keeping quiet to not disturb the silence – only sound audible was the ever-running playlist of slow songs in the back, and afternoon birds singing their own melodies outside the window, the occasional blow of wind playing with the leaves. Your and his breathing. His hand moving against your skin.

Chan’s right hand hadn’t left an inch of you untouched by now, gliding over the cushiness of your flesh the umpteenth time now and not seeming to stop any time soon. Not wishing to. Your own hand found the steady of his chest, laying palm above heart to feel its’ pumping – it fastened when your eyes found his.

“I love touching you, baby. So much.”

His voyaging hands on your body as though proof of his words, and your own heartbeat quickened while Chan’s eyes flickered between your own and your lips – he wished to kiss you as much as you did, looked like it was the only thing he would ever think of until satisfied. You weren’t any better off yourself, your own lips seeking for attention now, longing to meet his in never ending contact. Your breaths intertwined in timbres most alluring, so close to the other yet impossible miles away. Chan’s hand on your body now firmer, pulling you nearer by your waist to enclose your mouth in a kiss, to move tongue against tongue and breath against breath, to swallow each other’s sounds and make them your own. Your hands laying on his chest or wandering up to crawl at his nape, his never resting to explore all inches of your body despite knowing the whole of you inside and out – he’d never grow tired of it, however often his touch found itself on your figure.

Laying like this for a while, hand on each other’s body and mouths dancing in waltzes most naturally, until lips turned red and hands grew needier. Until hair fell messier and bodies felt hotter – and both of you took a second to back away, to lock eyes that had grown in size by now in affection and anticipation. It was you who took the first move, who found impatience in the silent pause to catch ones breath and recollect sanity. It took one swift motion to find yourself on top of the man, legs on each his side, caging him beneath. You basked in the heat he radiated, in the way he looked at you; eyes pleading, surprise lacing behind – you were often a shy one to initiate, let alone this eagerly, though he’d argue it to be his very favourite side of yours. To see you wanted him as much as he did, to see you letting go of inhibitions when it came to him.

Chan’s hands were on you in no time again, continuing where they’ve left off, without hesitation. Big palm on your bare thigh, caressing his way up to squeeze at waist and hips, to play with the waistband of your underwear that wrapped itself around your middle. Only then your face grew a shade darker, when the realisation of the vulnerability of your position set in, when you took actual notice of Chan’s wanting touch and hungry gaze, his presence, body on body, core on core. He snickered, didn’t allow shyness to overtake your body – he sat up to catch you in a hasty kiss before setting back on the mattress, hands beneath the shirt of his you wore and on the curve of your waist, moving further north to hint the dispense of the cloth. You complied, losing the shirt and finding yourself braless and bare before him, only panties left to protect of utter nudeness – the redness travelled downwards your neck. This was in no way the first time of getting intimate with you hovered above the man, though it never seemed to make you less nervous – you made haste to lower yourself and bury your head in Chan’s neck, nibbling at the skin to have something to do. It got him hissing in response, got him groping at your body wherever he could find – fingers on the small of your back, tracing the shape of your derriere, grasping at the back of your thighs. Every bit of contact, every of his noise had your body getting rid of remaining shyness.

It wasn’t long until you sat upright again, panties long lost in longing and hastiness, and your chest was heaving in want. Chan was no better, watching you position yourself atop him with urging eyes, lining up tip with wetness, finding him engulfed in your warmth not seconds later. His eyes rolled back in momentary pleasure, your head fell back when you felt him bottom out fully. A set of moments to collect yourselves then you started moving, slowly, steady hips rocking back and forth in movements of waves. All shyness having left your body, thirsting for the hunger in his eyes, for his utterly locked gaze on your body, on your every inch, for his firm hands, his rugged touch on your flesh – grasping for it as though his life could depend on it. Printing pictures of his fingertips across your body, littering you in evidences of his love — your body was marked in purple and red in minutes, and you'd lie sayibg it wasn't your favourite side, your favourite reminder of Chan. His own face scrunched into a grimace of lust, body rocking in your rhythm, impatiently meeting your thrusts with his own.

You never stopped moving, picking up the pace when heat in cores grew unbearable, when your legs started to ache and your core felt to tighten up in sweetest anticipation. Your hands found steadiness on Chan’s chest, a sheet of glistening sweat collecting in between the places of contact, and your body kept rocking, back and forth or up and down – anything that made the man lose his sanity, that made him throw his head back into the pillows and shut close his eyes, anything that made his abdomen tense in most beautiful sight and twitch within you in most lovely sensation.

One wave of the hips, two waves and a third one was all it took for you to see white, for sharp ringing to occupy your ears and pleasure to hit you like a million tides, flooding your veins and contracting your muscles into spasms of bliss. Chan followed quick, gushing within you in spurts of white, body tightening in rhythm to yours. Sinful sounds ricocheting off the walls, a mix of yours and his, your faces contorted. You collapsed above him, all too tired to hold your body up, to bring up any strength at all. It would be minutes until the both of you’d decide to move out of the position, until you'd clean up despite continuing later on all the same. Because after weeks of his absence you could never get enough of each other, because even without weeks of his absence you thirsted for him as he thirsted for you.

@etherealeeknow @linoskitty @unexceptional-h @rseanne @es-kay-zee @urcracksisx @jeyelleohe @yunkiwii @etheralsung @nyrasneedy @seochhj @spidercomics @chans-starlight @angelwonie @lix-ables @yvniek4ng @ppiri-bahng @sstarryreads @svintsandghosts @bokjaz @llunapastell @sensitiveandhungry @minniesvenus

[bidisasterevankinard]

Tease tidbit Tuesday

look who's back! Me! Finally wrote smt. It's the part from the last chapter from the last scene of frat boys au

Hold me now don't bother

If every minute it makes me weaker

You can save me from the man that I've become, oh yeah

Tommy’s fingers around the microphone turn white and Buck knows it’s because he’s anxious. Buck’s heart misses the beat, filling with hope it’s not just about the man hating singing in public.

Electric blue eyes keep pinning him to place, showing so many things, Buck goes dizzy with it. Sadness, hope, happiness, self-doubt, regret, love - Buck sees all this and he swallows from the weight of all those emotions Tommy translates in their eye contact. And his voice? God, his voice! It sounds as if all the most talented angels started singing with the most alluring sirens harmonizing with them. This voice goes staring to his heart that already beats just for Tommy, and grabs in hard squeeze. The hold that can keep his heart safe forever or break again. And Buck just can’t stop himself from falling in the trap with the name Tommy Kinard. As always. He never could stop himself with Tommy. He always, like those sailors in mythology, was falling in the ocean of Tommy’s eyes, not seeing how he drowns till it’s too late.

Looking back on the things I've done

I was trying to be someone

I played my part, kept you in the dark

With a sad smile Tommy puts his hand on his heart, titling his head that particular way, and Buck can see not the 30 year old man, but the boy in his early 20s, who was holding hard to the mask of the guy other people wanted him to be. The mask that Buck didn't want to help him to keep anymore. The mask that he hated, because it never was his Tommy. Not really. Not how he was in the safe place of the walls in his room. Even when they were just friends. 

One head tilt and Buck’s heart breaks for the boy he loved so hard, but never could help love himself.

It’s so unexpected to see him again. With all the confidence Tommy got over the years, especially after he came out, Buck almost forgot this part of Tommy. His insecure and broken part. The part Buck was always ready to fix, but even if he couldn’t, was ready to love. Love anyway. No matter what.

I was tagged by @aspecbuddie

np tagging @wikiangela @hippolotamus @bewilderedbuckley @diazsdimples @devirnis @queerbuck @queerdiaz @watchyourbuck @evnnkinard @evanbi-ckley @repressedqueen @rogerzsteven @racerchix21 @theotherbuckley @typicalopposite @perfectlysunny02 @powersuitup @pirrusstuff @theweewooshow @epiphainie @saybiwithme @diazheartsbuckley @honestlyeddie-im-bi @loveyouanyway @monsterrae1 @marvelousbuckley @cal-daisies-and-briars @bigfootsmom @bi-buckrights and anyone who wants to

[voraciousvore]

Voretober Day 28: Miss

Day 1 | Previous (27) | Next (29)

Content Warning: NSFW/ 18+! F/f g/t soft fatal unwilling vore, sexual themes, brief mention of hard vore

Word Count: 1076

Little Miss Strawberry. 

I didn’t know her real name, but that’s what I called her in my head. She was small and cute: about the size of a strawberry, as a matter of fact. Her figure was pleasantly plump, like a ripened fruit ready to be plucked from the vine. She had a naturally sweet scent that could almost be described as floral, intoxicating to the senses. And she had rosy, chubby cheeks that I desperately wanted to squeeze. 

Even the way she dressed—with a cherry-red, polka-dot dress—reminded me of a strawberry. All together, the petite little package looked positively delicious. I couldn’t bring myself to approach her, or speak to her, despite the fact that we had classes together in the same building. Even in a crowd of other small folk, down on the designated pathways, her cheerful color choices always made her pop. And I couldn’t escape that delightful scent that followed her down the hallway, far more bewitching and potent than any artificial perfume. 

I just had to have her, you understand. I couldn’t escape her allure, forced into close proximity as we were. I fantasized about sticking her between my tits, or in my panties, and I’d grow sopping wet at the thought. The way she’d blush and squirm—it would drive me wild. Or her begging for mercy, in that soft sing-song voice of hers. Oh dear. I really had no choice, all things considered. 

But more than anything, I wondered what she would taste like. How her soft flesh would feel on my tongue, or pressed between my teeth. Bones crunching, bright red syrup flowing down my throat. I swallowed longingly at the thought. When class was dismissed, I couldn’t resist stalking her. I walked with very slow, deliberate steps so I wouldn’t outpace her. She went into the library, and I prowled behind. 

I lurked in the shadows and watched. She asked one of the librarians for help, and I felt an intense stab of jealousy as the giantess gently scooped her up and carried her over to a shelf. She picked out a book, opened it, and set my little darling down on the pages, giving her a light pat on her strawberry blonde hair. Disgusting. But so cute. 

I observed for a while, slathering my drool on my knitted pink sleeve so it wouldn’t drip all over the floor. Every dainty, teeny movement, from her strolling over to turn a page bigger to her than a bedsheet, to her hand dutifully scribbling loopy cursive notes in a notebook smaller than a postage stamp, sent me into a frenzy. I needed her tucked away inside me, enveloped snugly by my stomach walls. I fingered myself behind the bookshelf, stifling my low moans inside my sleeve, going mad with gluttonous lust. 

I couldn’t tolerate being without her any longer. I surged forward, knocking over a few books in the process, and dived over to her table. She spun around, eyes wide, but froze in place like the helpless prey she was. I slammed into the table, snatching her up in my hand and flinging the book to the floor in a savage rush, before barreling off with my prize. Even though her screams were a sweet symphony, I muffled them with my fingers and shoved her into my sodden sleeve. 

Privacy was necessary, so I swept her away to a secluded corner of the library, hiding behind a thick bookshelf. I rolled up my sleeve and opened my hand enough to behold Little Miss Strawberry in all her glory. Her face was flushed more than usual and her eyes sparkled with tears. I kneaded her plush form with my fingers, reveling in her divine softness, like the lightest, fluffiest dough. 

She tried to plead with me, to demand to be let go, but fear stole her voice. I could only imagine how I must’ve looked, with my long black hair in a tangle, teeth glinting in the amber light, pallid skin pouring sweat, and the gleaming eyes of a hungry beast. Gosh, I was so intensely ravenous. My belly clamored for her to be stuffed inside. Without further ado, I opened my maw wide and shoved her inside. Her sharp scream was cut off by my teeth clacking shut. 

Oh. Oh my. Sweet bliss flowed over my tongue in a burst of sublime flavor. She was even better than I imagined in my most sugared fantasies. I bit down on her dress, tore it off, and swallowed it so I could feel every inch of her tiny body without obstacle. Her texture and shape were as irresistible as her taste. Her struggles made me even more voracious, as she wrestled with my tongue and banged against my teeth in a futile effort to escape. 

I couldn’t help but smile. Such a feisty little morsel. I toyed with her, rolling her around on my tongue and giving her a gracious tour of the inside of my mouth. I pressed her between my teeth playfully, but decided not to bite down. I wanted to keep her alive as long as possible; I was enjoying her struggles too much. I gulped down buckets of overflowing saliva, so that the poor dear wouldn’t drown. I didn’t want that. 

My throat was too eager to hold back any longer, and my stomach too empty for comfort. I forced her to the base of my tongue, until her puny arms were pushing against the back of my throat, even as she slid further inside, helpless to halt her descent. With a luxurious swallow, I sent her down.  

I sighed with contentment as my esophagus massaged her through my chest. I traced her path with my finger, relishing her movements. I let out a soft moan and rubbed my belly as I felt her drop inside. She came to life within me, thrashing and fighting, electrifying my insides with excitement. I leaned back in my corner, idly jiggling my paunch with a lazy hand. Her faint screams were overpowered by the loud gurgles of my stomach, churning to slowly grind her into mush. 

Eventually, her frantic spasms died down to a slight jitter, until she stopped shuffling about altogether. I licked my lips with satisfaction and stifled a belch with my sleeve. After laying for a while, I stretched like a cat and pulled myself to my feet. 

Time to find my next obsession. 

[elegantsplendour]

Of Blossom and Betrayal

Summary:

AU: Green victory, the realm called for a new queen after Queen Helena's demise

Seraphina Tyrell did not belong to the worldly realm of Westeros; a lone child conceived of loyalty, love and devotion. A beacon like her attracts the darkest of souls, in the darkest of times.

💌 Aegon II Targaryen and Aemond Targaryen

Warnings: manipulation, abuse of power, mentions of rape, slight underage, dub con, violence. Specific warnings will be added at the beginnings of each chapter.

Cast

Chapter 1

Prologue: Highgarden

Tag list: @purple-writer8 @vhagarswar @femmechaotic

Other friends: @boundlessfantasy @arcielee @qyburnsghost

Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!

Lord Lyonel Tyrell was a man of honour, loyalty and vigilance. Succeeding in remaining neutral, assuring his family’s survival and maintaining the influence of his house in one of the bloodiest war since Aegon’s Conquest, if not of all of Westerosi history, was an accomplishment that many of his position had dreamt of.

Loyalty? He laughed bitterly at the memory of the bright and confident smile on his long gone brother Bryan’s departing figure to King’s Landing to serve under Prince Daemon Targaryen.

Be loyal to no one but his family, his loved ones.

It was the code he had lived by since Bryan’s unexpected tragic demise at the hands of Rogue Prince himself, a man his poor brother, the innocent messenger sent by King Viserys, admired and sworn loyalty to, fourteen years ago.

Lyonel remembered the day the news of his demise reached his father, the former lord of Highgarden.

People sing that there were six stages of grief.

Shock, denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance.

But when it came to a devoted seventy two year old father, the grief ended in the very first.

Two days later, Lyonel, the second son, whose ambitions never surpassed the allure of marrying Lady Jayne Lannister and sampling the finest wines and sugary with his beloved, inherited the legacy he had never been prepared for.

The Targaryens will always do what’s best for the Targaryens.

Those were his late father’s last words.

To survive the Targaryen rule, Lyonel played by their rules. Schemes, betrayals, deceptions and bloodshed? He did not shy away from them. He bore the burden so his family, his people, didn’t have to.

With his hands on the cold balcony, Lord of Highgarden bathed the fresh air of flowers, the peaceful chirping of insects, the giggling of young maids and the distant melodies from the small folks returning to their homes after a long day of labour.

This was his empire he defended.

One of loyalty, honour and love.

His beloved Jayne, her arms wrapped around his waist.

Seraphina, his precious jewel, his sweet little rose, the one and only fruit of his and Jayne's love's many attempts at blooming.

His Lancel, Bryan's illegitimate offspring, whom he had taken under the Tyrell bloodline, a fierce and honorable knight, a fine protector, his heir.

“Lord Ormund has written again,” Jayne rested her head on his shoulder, her golden curls soothing his skin as much as his mind, “The letter touched me, the words he’s chosen, the sincerity of his voice. He truly desires a betrothal between his first born and Seraphina.”

Jayne traced her fingers on her husband’s cheeks, “He wishes to introduce them in King’s Landing.”

“King’s Landing?” Lyonel frowned deeply, “It should be fit for them to present themselves to Highgarden, especially when Phina was the one who treated their wounded bodies in the woods, risking the slaughter of the ruthless Northerners.”

Jayne swallowed hard as she recalled the turbulent times of the war.

Although negotiations, strategies and armies kept the castle away bloodshed and dragon fire, the walls were not impenetrable to whimpers of loss and screams agony from the highborn’s well acquainted soldiers calling the Rose without Thorns to their rescue, even at the interdiction of her parents.

Every time the Rose sneaked away from safety, the Lord and Lady of Highgarden sobbed while the peasants and soldiers rejoiced. Her empathetic smile, attentiveness to their wounds and of course, the herbs and food she had carried with her ignited the flicker of hope in the darkest times.

One fateful day, Seraphina stumbled upon two injured knights bedecked in green armor, hidden in the woods—Ormund and Daryn Hightower, gasping for air, on the brink of death from the Battle of Tumbleton.

As Seraphina returned with the blood stained figures of the castle, Lyonel and Jayne’s anger and fear exacerbated.

Highgarden had remained unharmed because of its neutrality that their naive daughter had just broken.

Yet, the gods seemed to show them mercy, perhaps in honor of the lives House Tyrell defended. The Blacks remained oblivious to this act, which could be seen as a declaration of allegiance. Instead, Seraphina’s uncalculated move of benevolence eaned House Tyrell a favourable position in the new Targaryen court: an intimate alliance with the most influential house beside the new king.

As Lyonel contemplated the offer in silence, Jayne squeezed his hand, “Daryn is a handsome, brave and honourable young man. I recognized the look on his face when Seraphina brought him back from the wild,” she pressed a kiss on cheek, “It’s the same way you looked at me years ago, lord husband.”

Lyonel’s gaze softened as he enveloped his wife into his arms with a light chuckle, “Your jest on formality never cease, my love. If the young Hightower truly feels the same about our daughter as I did to you twenty five years ago,” he cupped her cheeks, “Then, perhaps, that boy deserves her hand.”

Jayne held her husband tightly, relishing his scent and warmth. In a world cruel as this, she thanked to the gods everyday for granting her a man of his devotion, wisdom and strength.

“To King’s Landing then?”

“To King’s Landing,” Lyonel nodded before rolling his eyes, his never dying youthful side emerging, “Where the drunken king will be holding a foolish lavish pageant while his people starve. Seven bless the poor girl he will choose as the new queen.”

Jayne laughed wholeheartedly before tending to his arm, returning to the warmth of the interior, “You know, fate favoured us immensely,” she whispered with a mixture of gratitude and anxiety, “If we had agreed to the Kinslayer’s proposal in marriage-“

Lyonel suddenly gripped the touch of her hand, “Thank the wisdom my father and brother had bestowed me. Never trust a Targaryen. The rumours of…” disturbance and disgust written all over his face, “Lady, now a Princess, Cassandra Baratheon’s screams of pain echoed through the Red Keep on her wedding night. I cannot imagine-“

He buried his face in his hands as he sat down with his wife next to the fireplace.

Jayne brushed his hair with adoration, “Don’t overthink about the past, my love. Phina is about to marry a good man.”

The lord smiled as he lifted his head to face his beloved, “Everything I risked, I fought for, it was worth it. For you, for her, for Lancel, and for our people.”

Jayne kissed him passionately before whispering, “You are too good for this world, Lyonel Tyrell.”

As the stars gracefully pirouetted around the moon in the embrace of the night's darkness, and with the imminent date of embarking on the journey to King's Landing drawing near, the wheel of fate began its inevitable revolution once more.

[willowspoems]

amidst the inferno

an original poem by willowspoems

it’s a subtle thing. 

an innocuous flame, maybe,

but one that’s hot, nonetheless.

it courses through my veins,

singes my blood with a foreign type of fire.

my flesh,

my bones,

lit up with some sort of trespassing ember.

a delicate dance, 

with a silent partner,

tightroping carefully,

along the line that stretches thin,

whispering secrets in the language of heat.

each heartbeat a testament to its presence,

each breath an offering to its flame.

it’s innocent at first glance, 

a needle, perhaps. 

but peel away the layers, 

and it’s a dagger, 

a lethal force,

hidden in plain sight; 

a killer at its core. 

a penetrating, all-consuming kind of blade;

creeps up my spine and sinks itself into my shoulder blades, 

to take root in my skull,

an unwelcome visitor,

but one that barges its way in, 

to find its home in the ridges of my brain, 

roads that even i,

the paver, 

had not yet traveled.

grooves that are frightening in their depths; 

enticing in their ambiguity.

so i tread cautiously,

careful where i place my feet.

god forbid i slip, 

fall, 

sink,

and turn to dust

in that engulfed place.

and though im withering away,

writhing as i do so,

you challenge me.

in ways I hadn’t prepared for.

beckon me into those uncharted realms,

test the fibers of my being

unanticipated.

i’ve always buried my anguish,

covered it in dirt,

locked it away

and swallowed the key.

and it petrifies me, 

an inexplicable fear, 

the way my pain trembles on the verge of unveiling itself 

in your presence. 

but for you,

i will rid myself of it all.

the contributors of my displeasure.

i'll strip away the layers of sorrow,

cast aside the burdens that weigh heavy,

offer them to the winds for a change.

but i’m a pathetic thing,

a symphony out of tune.

a rifle turned handgun.

gum used tasteless.

and stubbornly, i cling, 

resolute to hoard this anguish, mine alone,

it blazes fiercely within the fortress of my mind.

a hellish abode, 

forged of iron walls and doors,

where i'm shackled to the scorching metal,

each link of my captivity etched with torment,

too vast,

too weighty

for words to define.

so, i enclose myself

within this iron-clad mind.

where each lick of fire becomes

a sick mantra,

a gruesome metronome, 

conducting my body into nothingness. 

though the flames may rage,

and the chains bind,

you hold me, 

redirect my restless mind, 

curb my enigmatic sorrow.

and when the flames grow, 

and the blade strikes,

unexplainable,

uncontrollable,

you remain,

like you always do, 

lingering by my side. 

a constant presence

in the ebb and flow of my emotions. 

my lifeline amidst the inferno.

futile it seems,

to resist your allure,

for you are too intoxicating,

too relentless,

a soothing balm to my nocturnal wanderings.

an indelible mark etched into my skull,

the tantalizing possibility

of one who can...

sheathe this dagger,

halt this orchestra,

and extinguish 

this fire.

[daddycassie]

Music and passion were always the fashion ~ 🎶🪽

Pairing: Lucy Gray x Fem! Bartender! Reader - 1,064 words

Warning: Kinda assault tbh… I blame Billy Taupe, Billy Taupe is his own TW, guns, gun violence, major character death, blood, fighting/beating(?), comfort to hurt?

Her name was Lucy Gray Baird. A performer, a singer. She wore beautiful dresses, deep red lipstick, and all sorts of homemade clips in her hair. You would watch her dance and sing, stomping around the stage, from your station at the bar.

Lucy Gray was like the star of district 12. Sure, some people didn’t quite like her and the covey but they most certainly knew who they were, everyone did. She looked at you from across the Hob and smiled, it was enough to make your heart throb. You looked away with a lovesick grin, cleaning cups of the remains of their alcoholic contents.

Over the time spent in the crowded bar, it didn’t take long for you two to get to know each other. Lucy Gray loved snakes, she loved long treks out in the woods, she loved singing to the mockingjays that resided there. Knowing all of these little personal things, coupled with her alluring beauty, and sweet personality made falling for her inevitable.

You didn’t try to avoid it in the slightest, you knew she’d had a recent breakup, and figured you’d have plenty of time. After all, she knew you just as you knew her. You were both young still, and had each other. That was enough for you for now. At around 3:30 PM, people began filing out of the bar and you started your cleanup.

Lucy Gray approached you with a sweet smile as you wiped down a table. “Hey Y/n, how are you doin’?” She spoke with a sweet Southern drawl. You stood up straighter, which made her giggle. “I’m doing well, just hoping to get home by 4:10, you know how it is.”

She nodded gravely at your words, “Oh, then I suppose you’re too busy to, y’know, hang out.” The brunette clasped her hands behind her back as she spoke. This drew your attention quickly. “No, no, I just mean I don’t want to be here forever. I can hang out.”

You’d thought the sun had shone in your eyes when Lucy Gray gave you the brightest smile. “Oh, perfect! Should we wait for you?” You nodded to her and she gave you a curtsy before speed walking back to the rest of the covey. After about 20 minutes you walked over to them, and the lot of you were off. 

You found yourself in Lucy Gray’s room, sitting on her bed where she sat across from you, talking about anything, everything, and somehow nothing at all. You didn’t even notice when silence stretched over you two, simply staring at her dark eyes. “Y/n?” You could hear the smile in her voice, god, you loved hearing your name in her voice. “Do I have somethin’ on my face?”

You shook your head. “You’re just beautiful. That’s all.” Lucy Gray looked alarmed for all of a few seconds before laughing joyfully. “Aw, thank you! Aren’t you the sweetest thing?” You swallowed harshly and nodded to her. She leaned closer to you.

“I see you starin’ at me a lot you know. I must be awful pretty for that.” You nodded once more. “You really are.” Lucy Gray blushed. “Maybe you should stop thinkin’ about it and just kiss me.” Her forwardness surprised you, but you were never one to turn down an opportunity.

“Are you sure?” You cupped her cheek as though she was made of glass. “I wouldn’t have said it if I wasn’t sure.” You trusted her word, and kissed her, gentle with affection. Lucy Gray placed a hand on the back of your neck in response. Her smile had returned when you pulled back.

That night you held each other, she often sang you sweet nothings and you’d feed her compliments. You talked like you didn’t have to wake up and work tomorrow. You talked like tomorrow would never come, till you both fell asleep.

The following day, Lucy Gray seemed to glow more then usual, whether she was feeling the pleasant buzz of a new relationship or was simply excited by how crowded it was was unclear. Either way, you worked as usual, resisting the urge to look to the stage. Song after song played and you listened while Lucy Gray sang.

You listened closely and peacefully while working until around 2:00, when you heard a commotion in the crowd. You relaxed when Lucy Gray seemed to settle the conflict, but that was short lived. You heard a fight breaking out in the audience and quickly stood from the bar.

“Billy Taupe, don’t you touch me!” You heard Lucy Gray shriek, failing to keep down the panicked tone. You practically flew across the Hob, shoving people aside as you made your way through the crowd. Your anger only increased when you saw Billy Taupe holding a handful of the fabric from Lucy Gray’s dress.

The brunette paled as she tried to cover where the rips had exposed her leg up to her thigh. You launched yourself at Billy Taupe, punching and hitting and kicking as you knocked him back. You only pauses when her broke a chair over your head.

Lucy Gray cried out, “Stop! Wait!” She rushed off stage before anyone could stop her to try to get between the two. You wiped blood from your head with a groan and glared at the boy, who was bleeding far worse. But you knew as soon as you’d looked at him this fight was over. Before Lucy Gray could intercept a loud gunshot went off, and a body thumped to the ground.

Lucy Gray stood in shock, her ripped dress splattered with blood. She screamed, and shoved Billy Taupe, he immediately fell off balance due to his injuries. Once he was out of the way, Lucy Gray rushed to your side. Her shaky hands caressed the shape of your face.

“Y/n,” she whimpered, one hand traveling down and clinging to your hand. “This can’t — we were happy. What happened?” Lucy Gray was unsure who she was talking too, but nobody stopped her. Until the peacekeepers stormed in of course. 

The bar went deafeningly loud, while Lucy Gray sat and cried by your side. A few people trampled her feet, but she hardly felt it. What she did feel, was when she was dragged away. What she did feel, was when your body was covered up.

She lost her love.

Note: honestly this one’s not for any real reason — just got bored! May have a rushed end buuuut I had fun and that’s what’s important.

[pls-let-me-out]

It officially was the worst day of Nico’s life. First he woke up late, thus he arrived extremely late to the Coral Moon celebration, which gave his father a fit. Then he lost his mother’s bracelet. But all this was nothing to what he’d just done.

After twenty years of carefully avoiding the surface, he’d finally decided to disobey his father’s rule and see what was so captivating to his sister Bianca, to the point she’d renounced her tail. So of course he got tangled in a fisher’s net.

“Look what we just got!” One of the men screamed. “Can’t believe it!”

“Jackson, where are you?” Another shouted. “Come take a look! A mermaid!”

Nico sputtered. “A what?”

“It’s clearly a mermen,” another said. Nico was ready to bite his head off, when he took a look. And what a look. “And we should really get him out of the net, before he decides to sing.”

“Will, you’re a spoilsport,” a young woman said. She had bright red hair, but the ends were tinted green. Nico’s lips curled. What a weird choice.

“He’s right,” Nico said. “You should really let me go.”

One of the pirates screamed. They all took a step back.

“And take this horrendous net off me, before I start biting and clawing it.”

The one named Will stepped forward, but he was thrown back by another men, dark skinned and with arms as big as Nico’s head.

“Let me,” the muscled one said. “It’s not safe, and we need our healer.”

They’d just taken the damned thing off Nico, when two people reached them: a blond woman and the one, only and damned Percy Jackson.

“You!” Percy shouted, pointing his stupid finger at Nico.

So, thinking back on it, Nico might not have been such an exemplary son and mermen prince. He might have ignored his father’s rules a couple of times, and he might have enchanted a pirate or two with his voice. One of those pirates was Percy Jackson, and that happened four years back. Of course even then Percy was in love with this Annabeth girl, who he spent most of his time talking about, and all he ever saw Nico as was a younger brother. Unfortunately, Nico fell in love in the worst of ways. He might also have gotten resentful at angry, thus selling him off to his father, and his father may have tried to kill Percy.

But all well’s that ends well.

Nico swallowed his bile. Percy could kill him on that pirate ship. “Missed me much?” He asked with a smile.

“About as much as I miss malaria,” Percy replied. He watched over at the men on the ship. He had to be the captain. “This is the deadliest creature you could get on Annabeth’s ship.”

Oh, good. So now Nico was on mysterious Annabeth’s ship. Just his lucky day.

“No worries, I’ll just get off,” Nico said. He winked at Will, the only one who’d wanted to free him. Will’s cheeks turned red. Good, Nico still had it, then.

Percy unleashed his sword. “I don’t think so.”

Annabeth put her hand on Percy’s arm. The light caught a golden band on her finger, and sure enough Percy had an identical one on his. “I suppose this is the famous Nico, then.” She tilted her hair, her grey eyes seemed to read Nico like an open book. He hated it, almost as much as he hated her.

“He hasn’t done us anything,” Will said. He stepped over Nico’s tail, to reach Annabeth.

What was he on that ship? Clearly he wasn’t just anybody, maybe he was Annabeth’s advisor, as Thanatos was to Nico’s father.

“If you know who I am, then you know who my father is,” Nico said. “And you are in his territory.”

“Nobody owns the ocean,” Percy replied.

Nico laughed. “You remember how it ended last time you told him that?”

Percy’s lips tightened in a white line.

“Enough,” Annabeth said, when Percy was about to reply. “We won’t kill Nico. We’ll use him to pass through the Neah Cascades. If he tries to drown us, we remind him we have his son.”

“It’s too risky,” Percy said.

“It’s worth it. I want somebody to always guard him.” Annabeth stepped closer and closer, until her shadow was over Nico. God, how he wanted to lounge at her. “And you won’t allure them.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” He asked. “You want to kill me, for what I did to your boy. I want to live. So I’ll allure everybody as soon as I get the chance.”

She was so quick he couldn’t react. She took one of his scales, which was painful as hell. She used it to cut herself. “Because now it’s a blood path. You help us, I don’t kill you.”

“You don’t, but what about the rest of your crew.”

Her lips tightened. She’d thought of it, too, then. Good. Nico wasn’t such a fool.

“None of us hurt you,” she said. Then she passed around the scale to her crew, and they all cut themselves.

When it was done, Nico held out his hand. “Let’s shake it, as you do, then. I help you, you help me.”

Annabeth smiled. “Done.”

When her hand tightened around Nico’s, he used it as leverage. With his fangs out, he lounged for her throat.

[daintyduck99]

*"Whoa."*

Rulie

There's an angel in the loft, already. 

She whirls around at Reggie’s approach, wide-eyed and moon-kissed. It's distracting, the way the light catches in her curls and plays over her sweetly surprised face. The things he should ask disappear. 

All he can say instead is, “Hello.” 

He isn't sure if she hears him over the plucky music floating from below, but she cocks her head and comes a little closer. 

Her eyes are the most radiant he's ever seen—and he grew up with Luke, whose own eyes glitter like every kind of Jewel.

But he's always been a sucker for the natural warmth in a pair of big brown eyes.

“Hi.” She smiles tentatively. “Are barn parties not really your scene, either?” 

He shakes himself out of his mental stupor and smiles back. He shrugs. “Not tonight.” 

She doesn't press—just offers her hand.

“I'm Julie. Julie Molina. I'm new here.” 

She looks away, biting her lip, and he can practically hear the obviously she's berating herself with. He does that, too.

Her eyes snap back to his as he takes her hand, squeezing it softly. Her lips part like moonflower petals, and their fingers linger even as they start to slide apart. 

Reggie swallows. His heart gallops hard.

“Reggie,” he says hoarsely. “Reggie Peters. I've lived here my whole life, so—if you have any questions, I'm your guy.” 

She hums. It has a note of laughter in it.

But her eyes hold a whole joyful tune. 

“Is that so, Reggie Peters?” 

His name sounds so melodic in her mouth.

It sends a tingle down his spine. 

“If you'll have me.” 

He hesitates—but only barely. 

“Julie Molina.” 

She stuns him with a gorgeous, gap-toothed grin. She was beautiful before—she's ethereal now. 

And her eyes—he could get lost in them. 

Her voice is alluring, too, though, which might be the only thing that saves him. 

She asks him what instrument he plays, first, which is a pleasant surprise. But then, Julie's probably the only person here who doesn't realize whose barn she's in, aside from maybe her parents. Even though she'd tested his full name, here, with her—

He gets to simply be Reggie. 

And he's quickly learning that he likes Julie. She's funny, and smart, and kind, and it's like—she sees the music in him, too. She gets it, and it resonates with her.

She makes him promise to play piano with her soon—he hears a melody right then. 

He's half-convinced that she must be an angel he conjured up. She can't be real. 

A slower song starts to play, and she stops mid-sentence. Her eyes are bright. 

She holds out her hands. 

And for the second time, he takes them. 

It's like he blinks and she's nestled in his arms. She lays her head on his shoulder.

She fits perfectly, and his heart is bound to burst—it takes a very different tempo.

They sway to the song without stumbling, though. He doesn't know it, but it's sweet. 

You lift my feet off the ground 

You spin me around 

You make me crazier, crazier 

God, he really hopes that's a good thing.

Feels like I'm falling, and I 

I'm lost in your eyes 

You make me crazier, crazier 

And whoever is singing is doing an excellent job—but Julie could do it better. 

He's not sure how, but Reggie just knows. 

She lifts her head, lips parting like she wants to say something, eyes shining, and he lets himself do the next crazy thing. 

Slowly, still to the beat of the song despite the rapid thrum of his heart, he leans in, encouraged by the way she tilts her face. 

Her eyes flutter shut, as do his—

And he captures her lips in a tender kiss. 

He'd swear that the music swells—maybe it's finally in sync with his heart—and Julie melts, sighing as the kiss starts to deepen.

She totally must be an angel. He's floating. 

So is she, if the dazed sound she makes when they finally break apart is any sign. 

Her eyes open slowly, and she looks at him through her lashes, awed and almost shy. She breathes out a little, “Whoa.” 

A pleased blush burns high in his cheeks. He grins at her. “Told you. I'm yours.” 

She nods, then wets her lips, and he wants to kiss her again when she tilts her face up once more— 

But then she says, “That was my first kiss.” 

He crashes back to earth. Of course—

This is why he should've asked. 

Well, he should've asked period, but. 

Fuck, he can't undo it. All he can do is—

“Julie, I'm sorry—” 

She cuts him off with her eyes. They broadcast her question before she says it.

“Why? I wanted you to do it. Now you'll always be mine, in some way.” 

God, that's—

What can he say to something that sweet?

She smiles, and then he knows—

He doesn't need to reply with words. 

[existentialmagazine]

Review: Ava Valianti’s newest single ‘January’ weaves catchy indie-pop and acoustics together for an exploration of unrequited love

Hailing from Massachusetts, the singer-songwriter Ava Valianti has seen herself catapulted her onto the global stage with her incredibly individual sound and musical works, weaving the essence of indie-pop through folk touches and unique developments. Sparking comparisons with artists such as Billie Eilish, Olivia Rodrigo, Renee Rapp, and Gracie Abrams, it’s clear she’s not just up there with the greats, but set to go far in her own right. Now with her much anticipated third single ‘January’, Ava’s not slowing down anytime soon.

From pressing play, ‘January’ sets itself apart instantly, whisking you up through a muffled voice note introduction, piano keys and soaring backing harmonies that feel heavenly in the same sultry way a Siren would alluring sailors in the sea. Through the personal touch of a spoken passage that mirrors receiving a message from a friend, and the aching touch of the whimsical rising vocals in the background, ‘January’ blends together something casual and friendly with aching intimacies too. That sense is instantly carried through into the verses soft vocals, an easy-going low-toned delivery that clearly holds power behind it and yet chooses to remain hushed and down, a parallel to the lyrical admissions that are revealed to find our protagonist heartbroken and lacking motivation as they pine from afar. Quick building beats and intricate guitar plucks surround the performance with such an atmospheric delivery, ebbing and flowing in pacing to always keep you guessing whether you’re at a high or a low.

With a distorted slow out into the chorus, we reach our most tender moment yet. Brought down to earth in just raw, gently strummed acoustic guitar and floaty vocals, Ava loses all of the built-up butterflies and growing feelings, finding herself reflecting on the reality that the one she yearns for has already found a match that’s far more suited to them than she could ever be. She reaches into higher vocal runs that encapsulate the fragility of the moment, something so gorgeous to the ears but destructive to the heart in one.

With an untraditional development of sound, ‘January’ completely shifts things up once again, bouncing along with pounding beats, vibrant piano and a much more confident vocal delivery, finding herself perhaps more frustrated than pained from this point onwards. As she starts to pick apart the person she feels incomparable to, Ava sings ‘ultra sophisticated taste in music, so superior to mine, such basic rhymes’, pinning herself against a standard she feels she cannot beat and putting herself down as though it were a competition to win. Continuing to express this partner’s perfections she shares ‘you’re ultraviolet, radiating’ , with many of Ava’s lines simply spent comparing herself with this other person, a heartbreak that’s untraditional as her feelings go unknown and she perhaps finds a lot more of her tragedy in the inadequacies she feels inside, rather than the inevitable rejection she’d find admitting how she felt to someone already taken. That’s not to say she doesn’t spend a good amount of time restless in her love, admitting ‘I stare at you frozen in time’ and ‘I need to find a place I can cry’, bottling up feelings that cannot go anywhere but be swallowed and felt deeply.

Adding a little more depth, Ava shares more on her thought process behind the song, “The hurt is still there and the feelings don’t go away, but you know that as hard as you might try, you’re not what they need. The song reflects the impact of memories, even as life moves forward, and the feeling of being tethered to the past and what could have been.”

There are few musical pieces that manage to develop so divinely in sound, as well as offer lyricism poetic and catchy all in one, and for that we’d hope you’ll listen deeper to ‘January’ for yourself here. For someone so new to the music scene, Ava has surely set expectations high for what she’s capable of delivering.

Written by: Tatiana Whybrow

Photo Credits: Plum + Port Photography

// This coverage was supported and created via Musosoup, #SustainableCurator.