#BUT YOU HAVE TO WAKE UP AND SEE IT ALREADY

[euthymiya]

i adore you (can’t you see you’re meant for me?) — ft. sylus

sylus likes to sleep late in the mornings, and you like to admire him. the two are just a series of steps that bring you to where you are now: on top of him

— word count: 4.7k words — it’s literally all pure filth with no plot idk what to say atp

— before you read: female reader ; established relationship ; sleepy sylus ; banter and teasing ; reader rides his abs (do not look at me) ; praise kink (it goes both ways tbh) ; blow jobs ; cum eating ; reader has an obsession with his veins (it is her not me okay?) ; sylus wraps his hand around her throat (but no choking) ; body worship + one clit kiss ; nipple play ; morning sex ; unprotected vaginal sex ; creampie ; do not be fooled it is all pretty soft i promise

— comments: i am new to this game and i haven’t gotten too far go easy on me for this one :( i dedicate this to all my sylus loving nonnies in my inbox thanks for helping me figure out this game LOL. and kass. ily kass

Sylus sleeps more when the sun is out than when it’s not. You don’t mind it so much—not when the view is what it is.

(He’s pretty, and so is the sun. The two combined make for an even prettier picture. You think, if you weigh your options, there are certainly worse things out there than sitting beside your sleeping boyfriend and waiting for him to wake up.)

It’s hard to keep your hands to yourself, though. His hair is too tempting not to brush away from his face. And while your hand is right there, it’s a little impossible not to cup his cheek for a moment. And, well, if you’re already touching him, you might as well let your hand slide down to his chest and rub circles against the skin. He leans into your touch subconsciously anyway—it’s not hurting him. It’s helping.

(You like telling yourself plenty of things to justify your hand and his skin having an early morning rendezvous.)

“Bored, sweetie?” His voice is always deeper when laced with sleep than it usually tends to be. You stiffen, moving to pull your hand away, an apology already prepared on your lips for waking him when he catches your wrist, eyes still closed. “I didn’t say to stop, did I?”

“You’re ridiculous,” you huff, letting him guide your hand back to his bare chest. It rises and falls slowly, so warm and firm under your palm that it’s a little dizzying.

“Am I?” He cracks an eye open, “I was just enjoying a little tenderness. I wonder why I can’t ever seem to receive something so sweet when I’m awake.”

“Precisely this reason,” you say flatly. He raises a smug brow. Just to humor him, you add, “Your ego can’t handle it when you’re awake.”

“What, that you find me too irresistible not to touch?”

“Sylus, go back to sleep,” you grumble, shuffling away from him with a face that feels unbearably hot under his half-lidded gaze. “You’re easier to get along with that way.”

“I don’t know,” he all but purrs. In a swift motion—swift enough that you let out a shrill squeal—his hand tugs at your arm and pulls you close enough that he can hoist your body to sit on his lower belly. “We get along pretty well when we’re wide awake, don’t you think?”

His hand hikes up your (well, technically his) shirt and rests on your hip, nothing but the thin fabric of your panties separating you from him as you’re seated on top of him. You shiver lightly when his thumb caresses your hip bone, a satisfied hum pulling from his throat at the feeling of goosebumps rising against your skin. 

“Sylus,” you breathe, squirming over him—but you can’t say much else because you cut yourself off with a soft gasp when you hear the distinct sound of something tearing. 

Fabric. 

More specifically, your fabric. Your underwear—which was a rather nice pair too, you think woefully—is torn into two pieces, one held in Sylus’s hand like some form of victory, while the other falls against his belly with nothing holding it together around your hips. 

You blink. He gives you a large Cheshire grin.

“Sorry, sweetie,” he says, not so apologetically, “They were just in the way.”

“I liked those!” You hiss, glaring at him, “They were nice!”

“What, you don’t think I can buy you more? I could buy them faster than I could rip them, I’m sure.”

You have your doubts about that last part—but it’s still persuasive enough that you’re no longer as mad as you were just a moment ago. But you’re still petulant, pouting as you huff, “You ruin everything.”

“Mmh,” he hums, closing his eyes, voice still a low drawl from sleep as he says, “Are you sure? Because I can feel you dripping already, sweetheart.”

Shame floods your system quickly, but lust is faster. Stronger, too, perhaps—because you don’t have it in you to be ashamed for too long before you grow impatient. With a deeper pout, you press your hands against his chest, leaning lower until your mouth hovers over his. 

“Can you blame me?” You breathe against his lips. “Just look at you.”

He stiffens. Just barely, of course. Just enough that you can hardly even detect it, but you do. You do because you know him. And you know that when Sylus teases, it’s really just to deflect from his need to shift the attention to yours—like he doesn’t want you just as bad. Like he’s not just as hard as you are wet in his boxers. Like he doesn’t need to feel you just as badly as you need to feel him. 

But he likes to keep the upper hand. It starts with two hands on your hips, firmly squeezing them before slowly rocking them against his abs. Your bare cunt (courtesy of him destroying a perfectly good pair of panties) glides along the ridges and indents of his muscle. Very well-defined ridges and indents of muscle, too. You tense, letting out a shaky gasp as your clit rubs against his hard-planed physique. 

“If you like it so much, why stop at just a look?” He chuckles, “You’re more than welcome to feel, too, sweetheart.”

He’s so sickeningly proud of himself, you can’t help but think bitterly as soon as your hips start grinding against him of their own accord. He’s so pleased and amused and deeply content with the sight of you falling apart over him. His eyes are hungry, and they don’t stray away from you for a single second. They don’t miss a single twist in your expression, nor do they have the decency not to stare shamelessly at the image of where your pussy meets his midsection, where your slick pools and coats his skin and makes it glisten as you make a mess on him. 

He hums, large hands leaving your waist buried in their frames as they guide you at a slow, steady pace. “Bet that feels good, doesn’t it?” He grins—and oh, he’s aggravatingly happy as he laughs breathlessly, “You look like you’re about to fall apart. Don’t worry, I’m right here. You can’t fall far.”

You would say something smart if you could. Maybe even reach back and palm over his crotch that’s rudely tight against his boxers. But you can’t. Not when your clit rubs against his warm, heated skin and leaves jolts along your spine. All you can manage is a pathetic, “S-Sylus, please—”

“Oh? Please what? Please more?” He coos.

Something of a dull ache builds into this deep, throbbing need to feel your walls hug around something. To constrict around and latch onto something warm and big and full—something like him. Something like the way he fucks you into the mattress and makes you feel like he’s so deep in you, you can feel him in your throat. 

That’s what you want—but of course, you’re naive if you think that’s what he’ll give. For now, at least. For now, he’ll tease, and tease, and tease until he can watch you crumble just the way he wants to witness. And you’re close to that, too—you know it, and so does he. He can tell by the way your wetness drips onto him in a messy pool, making your cunt drag against him easier, smoother. He can tell because he can all but feel the quiver of your walls clenching around nothing, empty and desperate for some sort of building friction. And he can especially tell because of your face—that devastating look on your face when you’re so close to the edge you can just practically cling to it with the tips of your fingers as it dangles teasingly in front of you. 

“More,” you plead, “Want you. Want to feel you.”

“Oh, but you’re almost there,” he says in faux sympathy, soothing you with a sleepy, smug little grin. “Surely, you can take it just like this, can’t you? You’re better than that—I know you are.”

His words take you to the edge. You plummet off of it, in fact, practically collapsing against his chest as he holds you upright with a firm, strong grip and guides you through your orgasm. You gush around nothing, making a wet, sticky mess on his skin as you cum against him, grinding your clit as much as you can along every indent along his hard, built muscle. 

“Sylus,” you whimper, “oh—f-fuck.” Your body quivers for a few more moments before you slump against him, burying your nose into his neck. “You’re despicable,” you bite the skin lightly.

He laughs. It’s low from the sleep that’s still clinging to his voice but boyish enough that your heart skips a beat. “Am I? You seemed to enjoy it.”

You shuffle to curl into him more, but your leg brushes against the bulge in his underwear—a small, barely-there sound pulls from his throat. Something caught between a gasp and a moan that makes you pause before you grin against the crook of his neck.

“Guess I should pay you back, hm?” 

He watches, pupils dilated and eyes half-lidded as you pull away and kiss from his collarbone to his pecs. A rise of goosebumps litters his skin, too—just like they did on your skin earlier. You silently revel in that victory, making your way lower, lower, lower. But it’s painfully, obnoxiously, ridiculously slow. 

“Don’t be a tease, sweetie,” he hisses, grunting as you kiss down his torso, the well-defined muscle of his abs flexing under every touch of your lips. 

“Who, me?” You blink, batting your lashes sweetly, “Oh, I’d never, baby.”

Your lips graze over the skin that’s still marked with your essence as you kiss and suck along his torso, a trail of marks left in your wake and declaring him yours. You can taste yourself from just a few moments ago—the moments when you rocked your hips into him and fell apart, when he held you through it with a sleepy smirk. The image of his smug face makes you glance up at him with a flustered look, and almost as if he already knows, his gaze is on you. Waiting. Smug here in person just as much as he was in your memories.

“What a naughty thing,” he drawls, teasing glint in his eyes. “Did you get a taste of yourself? I’m sure now you have an idea of why I find it so…addictive, don’t you?”

He’s filthy. Cocky, too. And more often than not, he’s absurdly prepared with smart comments. Just to even the playing field a little, you decide he could use a little relentless teasing of his own. 

“Oh, I can think of a thing or two just as addictive,” you smile innocently—and just like that, you lean in to kiss against a pale, blue line across his porcelain skin, pulling away to admire the veins that mark his body. Something in you aches for him all over again—something that you don’t like to admit happens from just the sight of something like his veins. But you pay careful attention to them anyway, leaning down and pressing soft, feather-like kisses against his lower belly, feeling him stiffen tightly underneath you as his breath gets labored and slightly erratic.

He’s impatient. You glance down at him, cock hard and strained against his boxers, the beginnings of a wet patch dampening the skin from pre cum dribbling from his tip. You almost feel bad. 

Almost. 

“Don’t you ever get tired of your games?” He grits, involuntarily twitching his hips to chase some friction. 

“I could ask you the same question,” you snort. 

“Yet, it seems I’m always the one spoiling you,” he retorts. 

There’s some bit of merit to that, you suppose. So you give in, humming as you kiss along his v-line, one finger looping under his waistband while giving a small tug downwards. He lifts his hips instantly, letting you pull off the offensive piece of clothing that separates him from your touch. 

It’s flushed, his cock. Swollen, flushed with a pretty rosy shade at the tip, and glistening with leaking pre cum. You lean and give the thick vein along the underside a series of kisses tracing upwards before pressing a delicate one to his tip. He groans, and his cock twitches at the contact, his eyes fluttering closed as he bites his lip. 

“Pretty,” you observe, smiling softly at the sight of him. 

He scoffs, lips almost a pout as they curl into a frown. “Then do something about it,” he insists. 

You think you’ve sufficiently teased him enough, so you do—you take him into your mouth slowly, inch by inch, as your tongue and the wet heat of your mouth envelop him and make him tense for a moment before his body goes slack. A deep, throaty groan rings through the room, the sound making something do a flip in your lower belly. 

“Fuck,” he whispers, breathing heavily. “You…you’re so good at this.”

The praise does something to you that you’re not proud of. Some flash of an ache deep in your core that you don’t want to focus on, so you pay closer attention to him instead. Your tongue swirls over his tip as your head bobs up, tracing down that pretty vein of his as you take him down your throat once more. What you can’t fit in your mouth—because there is enough of him that you can’t fit in your mouth—you pump with your fist, wrapped around the base of his shaft. 

Sylus has a lot of veins. You admire them long enough to know them all by heart. The ones along his hands that you love to trace when you hold them in yours. The ones along his arm that you love to eye when he’s working out. The ones along his abdomen that you trace every once in a while with the tip of your finger when you have him to yourself in private. And the long, pretty one along this inner thigh—the one you see only when you’re like this: between his spread-out legs with your mouth around his cock. 

Your free hand moves to lay over this thigh, gently rubbing into the skin as if to anchor him as he throws his head back and groans. Your eyes are trained on him, staring up at the twists of pleasure in his expression and the crinkles in his eyes as he closes them tightly and moans. But you don’t have to look at your hand to know your thumb is tracing along that vein. You know it better than you know yourself, you think—his body is so easy to memorize. So easy to get to know and keep ingrained in your brain forever. 

His thigh flexes under your touch, and you hum around him, the vibrations around his length making his breath hitch as he curses under his breath. 

You pull away with nothing but a string of saliva connecting you to him, his eyes glancing down at you sharply for the interruption. But you smile, equal parts soft and equal parts smug. Gently, you press a wet kiss to his thigh, right over the same pale blue line you traced just moments ago, as you murmur, “You’re so pretty. You know that?”

“I’m flattered,” he says tightly, warily staring down at you with hungry, desperate eyes. “I’m sure you can save the flattery for later, though, can’t you?”

“But what if you think I’m just using you for your body?” You gasp dramatically, “Can’t have that, you know. I have to appreciate you more.”

“Teasing can easily be reciprocated, you know, sweetheart,” he grits, “Or have you forgotten that so quickly?”

“Oh, I’m aware. I’ll take my chances.” Your lips trail up his thigh until it reaches the base of his cock. You press another kiss against it, murmuring a quiet, “I love you.”

His cock twitches—it’s like it responds to every soft word of affection and every littlest bit of praise. For all the denying and for all the impatience, too, Sylus loves the attention. Thrives under it, even—it does something to his ego that you know you probably shouldn’t help stroke, but you can’t help it. 

You press one more kiss to his swollen tip before murmuring, “Mine,” and then you take him down your throat once more—faster this time. Your head bobs up and down his length, lips wrapped around him as you swallow every now and then. 

His hand flies to his hair, tugging at the soft, silvery strands as he groans deeply, hips pushing up to meet your pace and thrust deeper into your mouth. 

“Fuck, that’s it,” he hisses, “Just like that, sweetheart—shit.”

He spills down your throat not too long after. Warm, sticky ropes of cum that paint your mouth with every twitch of his cock, filling you enough that some spills from the corner of your mouth, dripping along your face and collecting at your chin. You swallow what you can, working him through his orgasm, listening to the sweet, lust-hazed sounds he makes as pleasure burns through every nerve of his body. 

He slumps back when he’s finished, panting with an arm over his eyes while you wipe your chin and swallow before climbing up his body and slumping on top of him. He wraps an arm around your waist instantly, humming lowly as his large, warm hand rubs into your lower back. 

“Had your fun?” He raises a brow. 

You grin cheekily, kissing his jaw as you murmur, “I think you had more fun than me, but what do I know?”

He chuckles. It’s low, and the sound vibrates through his chest so that you can feel it under you. There’s a small bead of sweat along his temple, and his face is flushed a soft shade of scarlet that you admire—it brings out the deep crimson of his eyes even more from here. 

“You’re so pretty,” you whisper. 

“How many times will you remind me of that?” He asks, bringing a hand to your chin, tilting your face up, and inspecting you carefully. “You’re making me feel bad. I haven’t reminded you how stunning you are nearly enough times.”

“You could always start now,” you wink, “It’s never too late.” He laughs again. Deep, genuine, soft. Sylus is a lot of things. You think your favorite is in love. 

“Do I really have to remind you?” He whispers, voice husky as he slowly shifts your body to lay under his, flipping you over as he hovers over you. “You don’t already know how beautiful you are—how you drive me insane?”

“A reminder wouldn’t hurt,” you blink innocently. “What if you’re secretly getting tired of me?”

His eyes flash with something dangerous at that. You only meant it as a joke, of course—he loves deeply. So deeply, you don’t think you’d escape him even if you wanted to. (Not that you do, of course. You’re quite happy knowing your place is beside him.) You know he’s never tired of you—quite the opposite, in fact. 

But you like teasing him. Getting under his skin enough that his hand moves to your throat and wraps around it firmly—not quite tight enough to block your air flow, but enough to serve as a light warning. 

“You think I would get tired of you?” He challenges. Offended. In disbelief. “Tired of this?”

Just like that, the familiar sound of fabric tearing rings through your ears again. It’s a sound you seem to be getting more and more used to the longer you date Sylus. And yet, every time, it pulls the same sound of disbelief from your throat as you gasp at his audacity. But before you can speak, before you can scold him for ripping your (his) favorite shirt straight off of your body, his hands curve around your tits, molding against them perfectly as if they were made to cup them. His thumbs roll over your nipples, humming in approval as you whine softly at the feeling. 

“Sylus,” you pant. (Regretfully, you think that’s the only collection of syllables you can manage anymore on this fine morning.) “W-wait—”

“Wait?” He pretends to gasp in shock, “But we’re just getting started. I was just about to show you all my favorite parts of you—they never get old. Would you like to see?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer. Instead, he leans down, latching his lips around one pebbled nipple, sucking and nipping lightly at it as his thumb rolls over and pinches the other one. Your back arches into his touch, a soft moan spilling from your lips as he grins against your chest. 

“Here’s a favorite, for starters,” he murmurs. “And here—” he kisses along your belly and makes his way to your hip bone, biting lightly at the flesh and making your breath hitch, “—this is certainly a memorable place too, isn’t it? Can’t keep my hands off of it.”

Finally, his hands slowly pull your legs apart, exposing the wet, dripping mess that is your cunt, folds puffy and waiting for him. He presses a soft, lingering kiss to your clit, smiling at the small whimper you let out from the sensitive touch before he says through a low, breathy whisper, “This, however…this has to be my favorite part of all.”

“Okay,” you whine, pulling at his arms with a plea, “I get it, okay? I need it, please.”

“Well then,” he huffs out a soft laugh, “Who am I to deny?”

He’s level with you before you can blink—mouth on yours with a heavy, heated kiss that sends your brain into a fogged state as you kiss back. All you can register is soft flesh, pressure against your mouth, the taste of his tongue on yours, and hot and heavy breath seeping into your lungs while he inhales yours. It’s slow, the way he kisses you—but still undeniably needy. He chases after your mouth as soon as you pull away to breathe, a soft gasp pushing past his throat at the loss of contact. As if it might kill him. As if he might die without your breath down his throat, keeping him alive. 

“Do you want it, sweetheart?” He breathes erratically, “Because I don’t think I can wait much longer.”

“I want it,” you practically beg, “I want you.”

He’s hard again—stiff between his legs and throbbing at your words enough that his cock does a little jerk on its own, like it’s responding to you itself. He drags it along your entrance, rolling slow circles against your folds and coating his tip in your slick, earning a sharp inhale from you as he groans at the teasing friction against the head of his cock.

“I always want you,” he breathes. 

He pushes past your folds as he speaks the words against your mouth, letting you swallow up the low moan he lets out as your walls wrap around him little by little. It’s painstakingly slow. Inch after inch after inch until the blunt head of his length presses deep into you, nudging against a soft, sensitive spot in your walls that makes your whole body react with a quiver. He curves into you perfectly, thick and deep and so, so full. 

“Ready?” He smiles tenderly, gripping the fat of your thighs and hooking them around his waist, leaning to kiss one of your knees as you melt into the mattress and nod. 

“Please,” you whine, “Need it—need you.”

There’s a sharp thrust of his hips at that—he pulls out until he’s almost completely left your warm cunt before slamming back in past your folds, pressing mercilessly against your sensitive spot. It’s partly because he has your body memorized but mainly because his body is practically made to mold into you. It’s like he fits you perfectly, curves into the shape of your body like the shape of his was hand-made to pair with yours. 

When Sylus fucks you is when you see past his exterior the most. When his eyes hold the most emotion, staring at you like he can’t believe you’re his. When his hands shake for once because he doesn’t know if he deserves the weight of you in his hold. When his breath is the most labored and uncontrolled because you steal every breath from his lungs, and selflessly, he gives up air for you. When sweat coats his skin and makes his hair cling to his forehead because when he loves you is when his body is most responsive, most affected. 

When Sylus fucks you is when you love yourself most. Because how could you not when he pays such close attention to you? Thumb finding your clit, rubbing slow, teasing circles just the way he knows drives you crazy, watching your face closely for every reaction? How could you not when close is not nearly close enough, when he presses his chest against yours and buries his face into your neck to all but melt under your skin? It makes you feel desirable. Beautiful. Lovable. 

So easy to want.

So easy to lose control to.

So easy to need. 

“You feel that, don’t you?” He mumbles, panting harshly as he grunts when you squeeze around him at the sound of his labored voice. “Feel me? How badly I need you? How crazy you drive me? Feel how hard I am for you? Don’t tell me you think I’d ever get tired of that.”

“I know,” you whine, “I know, I know, baby—I promise.”

You let out a small squeal when he angles your leg higher, thrusting deeper into your cunt, pressing harshly where you need him most with his tip in a dizzyingly punishing pace and a harshly rough deepness that makes your vision blur. Almost go blank, even.

“Tell me you love me,” he demands.

“I love you!”

“Tell me you need me,” he adds, so selfish and needy for your approval. To know you’re nothing without him like he’s nothing without you. 

“N-need…fuck, I need you,” you stumble over your words as your orgasm comes closer and closer, creeping up on you enough that you can’t catch your breath fast enough to keep up with him.

“Tell me you’re mine.” This time, it comes out as almost a plea.

“Yours,” you sob, body on the precipice of breaking all over again, “Yours, yours, yours.”

You cum as soon as you say it. Harder than maybe ever—it’s like being reminded that you’re his makes your body react tenfold. You fall apart with a shrill cry of his name, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a bruising kiss as your nails press indents into his skin. 

He groans in pleasure at the slight pain, melting against your lips, an open-mouthed, wet kiss working him up to his own orgasm. His first one was a slow build-up—but this one happens quickly, coming out of nowhere and hitting him full force, his hips stuttering for a moment and losing rhythm as he sloppily thrusts into you. 

Yours. Yours. Yours. 

Your voice rings in his ears, aiding him through his pleasure as he fucks his thick, sticky release deep into your folds, sharp thrusts that match the harsh twitching of his cock. 

“Ngh,” he grunts, “Sh-shit, sweetheart.”

Finally, when you’re both done, breaths frenzied and harsh as you try to make up for the lost air in your lungs, he slumps over your body and hides his face into the crook of your neck, practically purring as your shaky hand buries into his sweaty locks and strokes the soft, silvery strands. 

It’s quiet, just the sound of your breathing eventually shifting from heavy to slowed as you finally catch it, the quivering of your body dissipating, too. Your fingers journey their way from his scalp to the back of his neck, lightly making a feather-soft trail along his bare back as he shivers from the touch.

“Don’t fall asleep after I showed you a good time,” you pout, “It’s rude.”

“You were the one that woke me for a good time,” he mumbles, amused. “That’s equally as rude.”

“I did not,” you huff, “You were the one who escalated it. I just wanted a peaceful morning.”

“I don’t know,” he grins against your skin, pressing a chaste, warm peck where it's closest to his lips, “I’m feeling pretty at peace, wouldn’t you agree?”

so uh..........basically i got the card where u measured him for clothes and i saw a vein in his abs and lost my mind. so. here is the product of that. i REFUSE to be told this is not a completely totally normal reaction. thank you!

[satzumosupremacy]

Ignite The Spark II

Male reader x Kazuha

Tags: Smut 4.5k Words

Part 1

What truly matters is that your home carries deeper meaning. You wouldn’t settle for anything less when the empty chair across from the dining table belongs to Kazuha, or when you go to sleep and wake up together every day.

A smile crosses your face as you step into the apartment. Your gaze is drawn to the hoya kerrii plant, with its iconic heart-shaped leaves perfectly placed by the window. It wasn’t something you initially wanted in the home, but you didn’t see the point in having a small, silly argument over a plant. She thinks it’s a romantic addition to the space, and, over time, you’ve somehow grown fond of it.

“Zuha,” you say, walking through the short hallway into the bedroom and smelling her shampoo in the air.

“Hey, you’re home!” she smiles.

“What do you think of the dresser? It was the one you wanted.”

“It’s amazing,” she says and comfortably takes off her towel that’s wrapped around her body to set it on the rack. Kazuha smirks mischievously, and you seem to have an idea about she’s thinking. Super obvious enough.

“I sent my friend home after they helped out with this dresser.”

“You didn’t tell them how we broke the old one right?” she says, her voice carrying a teasing smirk as she brushes her fingertips across the dresser.

“No, Babe, why would I?” you softly say.

What really happened to the old one? Well, you bent her over, got a little bit too rough, and one of the legs unexpectedly snapped at the bolts. The truth is, the dresser was old, and the materials had seen better days—it wasn’t going to last much longer anyway. Consider it the perfect excuse to upgrade to a much sturdier one. 

“Maybe the first thing we can do is test the quality of this dresser. How about that?”

“Zuha,” you say, chuckling, because you couldn’t say no, because she’s already naked. What can you really do about it as she leans on the dresser with her hands behind her back, just waiting for you?

“Naughty boy," she says, beckoning you to come closer, and so easily, you do. Kazuha places her hands on your chest while you grab the sides of her hips, gently massaging her as you stare right into her eyes. “Thanks for building it, babe.”

“I swear, if this one somehow breaks, you’re buying the next one and building it yourself,” you chuckle, sarcastically teasing her.

“That’s not fair,” she utters. You love how she looks insanely hot with her hair damped. And just that fresh smell of her out the shower makes you impulsively want to fuck her. You gulp, and she looks directly into your eyes, “what are you waiting for, Babe?”

“You’re making me nervous. Okay?”

“Oh, shut up,” she chuckles, leaning in for a quick kiss on your lips. You lift Kazuha up and set her down on the cold surface of the dresser as she chuckles again. “You know this will be put to good use, right?”

“Mhm, I know. But dressers aren’t made for what we intend to do.”

“So what? Who’s stopping us?” Kazuha mischievously chuckles, and she looks so hot that it’s starting to be a problem. A good one.

“What’s with you today?” You didn’t mean to be rude, but those eyes of hers are so seductive that it’s becoming a problem. Again.

By all means, she’s both a problem and a solution. You're always torn between wanting some fun and taking things seriously, caught in the pull of her charm and the chaos she stirs.

“Were you waiting for this moment too?”

Honestly, and quite literally, you did. You knew Kazuha was on her way home after you dropped off your friend, so instead of admitting it, you decide to tease her for fun. “Maybe. Maybe not.'"

“I hate you,” she murmurs, her lips curling into a mischievous smile.

“I love you,” you say, leaning in to give her a quick peck on the lips.

Kazuha pulls back just as quickly after getting a kiss, “fuck me like you mean it then,” she starts to roll up your shirt.

You chuckle, “oh, is this how it’s going to go?”

“C’mon, fuck me, Babe. What’s stopping you? I need your attention fully on me today.” If she say so, and if she’s pulling onto your shirt to come off, you might as well fuck her right on the dresser. Kazuha throws your shirt across the room as it lands on the lamp near the bed and pulls you in to meet her lips, kissing and breathing heavily. “Baby, do you even realize that you’re hard? I know you never get enough.” Maybe Kazuha got you right there. It’s not your fault when she’s naked in front of you with her legs spread open, skin so pure and soft to the touch.

“Take off my—” you say, and you didn’t have to tell her, she’s already pulling your pants down as it drop to the floor. You had no idea when she unzipped your pants.

“Too slow,” she seductively chuckles. You can feel her hand grabbing your cock. It’s always the best feeling when her soft-small hands are all over your it, like she owns it. Your breath becomes heavy and sees her spitting onto her hand to lubricate your cock.

“Push it in,” she whispers with the tip of your cock inches away from entry.

“We’re moving way too fast,” you utter, which, honestly, you’re just worried for her. Having sex was her was planned, but you didn’t think she would rush it.

“Just put it in, Babe,” she spreads her legs wider, demanding for you to get all up inside her.

“Fine, if you say so,” and you gently drove your cock inside, slow enough to get her to moan, deepest you can go in her slick pussy. And little did you know, the shower head did come in handy as a toy for her while you were gone. You hear her shallow gasps and moans. It’s nothing new, but it’s satisfying to hear her gorgeous voice whenever you’re inside her. It’s brings you joy, especially when her legs tense up as she tries to sit still on the new dresser.

You feel her arms getting tighter on the sides of your stomach, and the way Kazuha’s nails digs into your back as you kept thrusting back and forth into her pussy. There’s no need for words, you know she’s loving it, and you’re loving it, arguably more than her.

“Harder,” Kazuha moans out, trying to catch her breaths. She rests her chin on your left shoulder, and just to seduce you more, she whispers in the most erotic voice ever, “fuck me harder, Babe.”

She’s making you go insane. Your mind isn’t where it was. This woman, actually, your girlfriend knows how to push your buttons after all the naked times together. And you will fuck her as much as you mean to love her.

“Fuck,” you groan, and you’re slowly finding the sweet spot to set the pace. She’ll be taking every inch, and every drop of cum that she didn’t get today.

“Babe,” she grunts, “oh gosh—.”

“Take it,” you growl, so aroused by the way how she’s moaning right in your ear.

The dresser rocks back and forth. There’s nothing in it. It was just built hours ago, and somehow, fucking her is the first thing you do on the dresser. And while she’s moans so beautifully, her arms cling to you desperately, one wrapping around you after the other, as she struggles to get a firm grip. Kazuha can’t even get a word out her mouth. You’re so deep inside, penetrating through her slick walls.

“Zuha,” you groan and gasp, hugging her in your warm embrace, slowing down to catch your breath while hearing hers.

“Keep going, I want it,” Kazuha murmurs softly into your ear, her breath sending a tingling sensation across your skin, like the brush of a gentle breeze. “Love me. Have me. Cum in me, like you always do.”

Her words make you smile, the curve of your lips pressing gently against her neck. She can feel the warmth of your cheekbones against her skin, and though you can’t bring yourself to respond with words, the smile speaks for itself. It’s an answer more honest than anything you could say.

You breathe on her neck, and slowly, again, driving your cock in and out Kazuha for a feeling of ecstasy as she arches back and her head leans against the wall from how deep you’re inside her. She grips right onto your broad shoulders, squeezing them in rhyme with your thrust. Her gaze is filled with love and passion, pulling you deeper into the endless depths of her ocean eyes. It’s as if time has ceased to exist, leaving just the two of you in this perfect moment while the rest of the world fades away. The room feels smaller, and the silence between both of you fill with unspoken emotions. Despite the weight of it all, you feel an irresistible pull, a need to keep going, no matter how difficult it is to not cum.

You’re so into the moment as Kazuha moans her feelings out with no one to judge, and so was the look she gave you—intense, tender, and entirely unforgettable. It was something special, something that's only meant for you, carrying a depth of emotion that words could never capture. Kazuha can feel your cock throbbing, and again, you’re not stopping. It’s not an option.

“Baby,” she whimpers and gripping into your shoulders harder as she lets out a chorus of endless moans. You feel her squirming around, legs tightly wrapped around your back, cumming.

“Kazuha,” you groan, feeling the tightness of her walls not letting you go. And you kiss the underside of her jaws as she catches her breath to offer you some help with her legs on your back. It’s not looking good for you at the very least, you’re bound to cum any second by how deep she’s pulling you in harder with all her might. “Zuha,” you grunted, like it’s a last chance of her top stop and continue for longer.

She’s not stopping as you take a deep breath, knowing that you couldn’t go any further.

And so, you cum as Kazuha leans back up to hug you in her warm-loving embrace. Nothing feels better than being in her arms. That warm, fuzzy feeling of her heartbeat syncing with yours creates a comfort, as if the world melts away while your cock throbs to fill her womb.

“Kazuha,” you say again, softly whispering, yet gasping with a heavy breath. And if only you can see how she’s smiling behind your back. “We could have went longer.”

“I really wanted it,” she chuckles and hugs you in tighter. "I'm sorry."

“By the way,” you say, catching your breath, “the quality of this dresser is amazing. For now.”

“The reviews were right, at least not for what we just did. It did rock back and forth a little bit though.”

“Babe, that’s because there’s nothing inside,” you chuckle, being witty enough that she chuckles from such an obvious reasoning. There’s no response from Kazuha, other than her chuckle as the two of you hold each other while your souls are intertwined. Outside, the birds chirp, and the distant honking of cars drifts up from the street below. It’s in her arms, in the quiet of this embrace, that you begin to notice the little things that had gone unnoticed just minutes ago.

“I have to go blow-dry my hair,” she says softly, releasing you from her embrace. Her arms linger for just a moment before she pulls away.

“Need some assistance?” you say with a playful grin.

“Wait for me, I need to put on my panties,” Kazuha smiles and gently hops off the dresser. You nod and pick up your pants to put it back on. Kazuha opens the closet and grabs the first panties she sees. Neither could you stop yourself from checking her out, even if she catches you and laughs.

“Are you just putting on your panties only?” you question, sitting right front of her as she puts on her panties, one leg at a time, and up to her waist.

“Yeah, figured we can do it on the bed right after? I’m just letting you get a quick rest,” she chuckles and grabs your hand to take you to the bathroom.

“Naughty girl,” you utter, laughing along with her as you flick the bathroom light on. Kazuha grabs her hair dryer, plugs the cord in, and then hands it over to you with a sparkle in her eyes. As you shuffle through her hair with the dryer in your hand, the warmth of the air mixing with the soft rhythm of your movements, you catch her gaze in the mirror. She’s smiling, and something about her eyes lights up makes you ask, “what are you thinking about?”

“Isn’t it funny how we ended up here to dry my hair after our quick little fun?” she shyly chuckles. “Don’t you think we haven’t been doing it much lately too? I mean, we didn’t do it for five days now until today.”

You wave the hairdryer around, carefully distributing the heat, your thoughts momentarily drifting as you search for the right words. “We’ve been very busy, Zuha. Let’s understand that,” you say, the hum of the dryer filling the space between your words.

“I know,” she pouts playfully, her eyes lingering on you as she watches you dry her hair in the mirror, a mischievous smile tugging at her lips. In that moment, there was nothing but the quiet intimacy you both share. “I love it when we spend time together. Just like right now,” she adds, her voice softening, the warmth between you both making the moment feel even more special.

“I love you, Kazuha,” you say, softly, yet clear enough for her to hear besides the noise of the hairdryer in the bathroom.

“I love you too,” she says, smiling and chuckling. You continue to dry her hair, your hand gently shuffling through her scalp, the steady hum of the hairdryer filling the quiet space. Despite your focus, Kazuha doesn’t take her eyes off of you, her gaze soft yet intense, as if she's studying every flicker of your expression. There's a playful tension in the air, a shared sense of comfort and curiosity, as she silently watches you, letting the moment linger.

It’s like she owes you the world, though you know she doesn’t. You took her in during her struggling times, offering her a safe place when she needed it most. What started as friendship slowly blossomed into something more, a love that was found in the quiet moments between the chaos. You both navigated the shift and now, it feels like fate—two souls who once spent a night for some comfort, now bound by something deeper, something undeniable. You struck gold in multiple places when it comes to her.

With mischievous intentions, you couldn’t help but smirk as you’re almost done drying her hair. “I dare you to turn around,” you say, turning off the hairdryer, deciding to let the rest of her hair to air dry. She only has panties on, you just have to do something about her.

Kazuha turns around to face you, just staring right into your eyes and you feel her hands sliding down to your crotch as a tease. “Should we?”

Without answering, you gently lift her onto the vanity, your hands steady as you guide her with care. As she settles, you lean in and give her a soft kiss. Kazuha digs into your pants with chuckle, not letting you have any more rest.

“Round two,” she utters with a heavy breath. "How do you want me?"

“Bent over,” and that’s all you say, firmly, a want, and a need.

Kazuha just laughs. She expected this from you. “Okay, Babe.”

“Think we should start here?”

“Doesn’t matter,” she whispers.

“Bend over.”

Quick and easy, it can be the best when it comes to moments like this. A start of a kiss that’s simple, yet full of meaning. Just the feeling of being together, everything else can wait.

You give her space as she hops down from the vanity to quickly bend over. As you get a glimpse of her gorgeous back, you’re already so impatient to be grabbing her by the hips and hearing her moans echo throughout the bathroom. For all the right reasons, you deserve your time with her, however you want her. And so, you drop your pants down and get closer to pull her panties to the side, grabbing your cock, then lightly slapping it on her ass before you put it in.

“Just put it in already, Sweetie,” she lightly chuckles, impatiently. And after listening to her little cute plea, you insert the tip of your cock slowly in, pushing your length in as she grips onto the marble counter.

Her moans echo, just like you wanted to, so crystal clear in the bathroom as she arches back with her eyes closed. You give her a kiss on the neck. Then clearly, another smile that she can’t hide. You love seeing her smile, it’s such a weakness when you would fuck this woman to sleep on some nights she would want it so bad.

And so, you pull her up gently in front of you, hugging her from behind with your cock still inside, not a single thrust. “We should go to the bed after,” you murmur, getting a whiff of her hair.

“I’d love that,” she whispers, heavily breathing as you push your hips against hers. You close your eyes, slowly thrusting into her again. And with your hands, you explore her chest, groping her tits, giving her nipples some flicks as she chuckles and moan at the same time. Kazuha holds onto your hand, wherever you decide to touch her body, she’ll be holding it as your hands go lower down to her clit.

“Oh my gosh, Babe,” she chuckles, swirming around in your embrace. There’s a deep breath she took, and slowly, neither can she hold herself up with the sensation you give her. "It's sensitive."

“Put your leg up,” you say, almost like a demand as she bends over again when you let her off of you and even your cock slips out when she props her left leg up onto the vanity. Your cock is drenched in cum as you insert it back in. Forget about the mess if there was any, Kazuha is fully getting your attention.

You grab onto the side of her hips, continuing to drive your cock in and out as she moans over and over. The bright lights of the bathroom shines over her body that you still can’t get enough of. Your cum leaks out down to her right leg, slowly trickling down her thighs while you shove your cock in and out, in the most passionate ways that she loves.

Moments go by, not knowing how long it really is. You pull out with your cock drenched in the creamy consistency of your own cum that was inside her. You’re so addicted to her in every way, from her body, to her heart. This nerd, sometime a sore loser at times, yet such a naughty girl is everything you want. A beautiful face, stunning body, and to the way she’s so flexible in bed makes you lose your mind.

“Get on the bed, Zuha,” you gasp, pulling out.

She quickly catches her breath, and before you can fully come back to reality, Kazuha gets down on her knees to suck on your cock without even giving you a heads up. This woman is surely yours, and neither is she going to miss out from getting a taste. She’s smiling so happily, yet so exhausted by how much love you show her, and it’s only right that she gives you the same attention.

It’s quite romantic.

“Kazuha,” you gasp again, grabbing her nape and looking down to see both your gazes meet each other.

She pulls off and licks her lips, taking in the delight that's rightfully hers. You brush her hair to see that gorgeous face of hers. Kazuha gets up and holds your hands to drag you to the bedroom. Quickly, she crawls on the bed, stopping right in the middle with her ass out for an invitation.

“Come here, Babe,” she says, laughing and having a good time with you.

You crawl on the bed from behind her as she awaits for you to insert your cock back in, and slowly, she feels your tip brushing on her clit, enough for her to softly whimper with a smile. Kazuha groans once you insert your cock inside, grunting harder the deeper you push against her ass.

“You feel so fucking good,” you groan, letting out a gasp right after, cock throbbing deep inside of her. Slowly after driving your cock in, you catch your breath, not knowing whether one more thrust could be the end. You wouldn’t want that, but to Kazuha, she won’t even complain.

“Can’t go on, Babe?” she softly says, turning back to get a look at you with a chuckle. “Should I do the honors?”

No, she shouldn’t. You know damn well that she’s going to make you cum when you see the smirk from the corner of her mouth.

“No, Zuha. I got it.”

“Should I lay down on my stomach?”

And with a mischievous smirk, you give her a gentle thrust to make her gasp while still on all fours. “I’ll tell you when you can lay down, Babe,” you softly say.

You continue to thrust as Kazuha clenches her teeth and her head hangs down, bobbing. “Yes, Baby, right there.”

You’re admiring her ass bouncing from the way you start holding onto the side of her hips. There’s no better feeling to hear her moaning and seeing her tightly gripping onto the blanket up front from the sides. You give her ass a slap, then another—a harder one, then one where Kazuha would scream out a louder moan while you continue to shove your cock deep in her pussy. And while you’re have the time of your own life, she arches even more, to the point where it’s driving you crazy, giving you the testimony of your own limits for such a view.

Let her moan all she want, and that’s what you also want. This woman is all yours. You’re going to fill her womb for the second time within a period of the day. The slickness of your own cum coating your cock in her is already motivating to keep going. You just want more of a mess to see her panties stained in cum by the next morning. And Kazuha should know who she belongs to.

“You’re such a good fucking girl,” you groan, almost growling by clenching your own teeth and giving her ass some touch of love after a spanking.

Both of you are so distracted that the bed creaks, and it’s actually unsurprising at this point where neither of you couldn’t honestly care less about it. And as she feels you pushing against her ass, you slowly trace your hands onto her back to grab her hair, looping it around your wrist. Kazuha’s facing forward, moaning and panting as you give her the treatment she’s been fiending for. The handful of the hair you grab stiffens the more you pulled her back. She’s almost looking up to the ceiling with her back arched, smiling, loving the kink.

“Babe, Ugh,” she grunts, mouth wide open to get all the air she can to take your cock.

You release her hair and gently push down onto her back, the cue for her to lay on her stomach as she slowly and smoothly props herself down with your cock still in her.

“Oh, Babe,” she softly moans, brushing her hair back and comfortably lean on her arm that’s on the pillow. “Such a romantic.”

And so, to what she doesn’t expect, you lean down, kissing her on the left shoulders, then to the right, equally giving Kazuha’s body some attention. “I know you love this position.”

“I fucking do,” she says with passion, and a smile on her face that you saw a glimpse of as you lean back up to put both your hands on her ass to spread. Kazuha’s breaths get heavy with every inch of your cock. She looks so comfortable with her eyes closed, taking deep breaths, moaning whenever your cock penetrates deeper into the creamy walls of her pussy.

You’re not giving the roughest pounding that will send her to sleep right after. This woman’s loving every second and minute of your cock. And by the amount of time passed by, you’ve lost track all because of her.

“Kazuha,” you groan, deciding to get closer as you lean down to her ears with the intentions of making her heart flutter, “Baby.”

Again, she smiles without hesitation, enjoy the romance, so comfortably lying down and feeling your cock throbbing more and more between her tight walls. You’re reaching your limit at this point, and you’ve done enough that she’s enjoying the moment being shared.

So, without much thought, and because of your desire to fill her womb every chance you get, you cum, pressing your hips against her ass, mashing your cock so deep that she lets out a quick whimper. Kazuha feels your cock throbbing, pulsating, so much of your warm, sticky cum being dumped in her that makes her so happy. You crash down and press against her body while the two of you catch your breaths. And there’s not a single moment that both your smiles fade away.

Slowly, and even gently, you pull out after giving her a kiss on her cheek and lay right beside her. Kazuha gets up on her knees and with a chuckle, she crawls to your cock. She licks the tip, then down the sides to taste the remaining cum that’s left for her. “Should I wake you up like this tomorrow morning?”

With a smile, you’ll never say no this. “Best way to wake me up.”

“That’s for sure,” she smirks, wiping the cum off her lips with her tongue. “By the way, I have to get on a call for a project in an hour.”

“I’ll be out the bedroom for you to focus when the time comes.”

Kazuha gets up and goes to the bathroom to turn on the faucet. “You don’t have to, Babe. But what should we do tomorrow? It’s the weekend.”

“I don’t know? Maybe laundry and shopping? We do need groceries.”

She turns off the faucet and picks up your pants that was left in the bathroom to give it back to you. “It’s my turn to pay, remember?”

“And I can see the unnecessary stuff that you’ll buy, Zuha.” you say, reaching for your pants from her hands.

“I promise that I won’t buy too much,” then she murmurs quickly, “it would be nice if you buy me a promise ring.”

“A what?” you say, which you didn’t catch the part she murmured.

Kazuha laughs, “never mind.”

[salemlunaa]

୨୧٭˚ You’re reaffirming failure ୨୧∘˚

you’re the one perpetuating a reality you don’t want

୨୧∘˙PART I | why are you so sure you’ve failed?

“i always fall asleep when i try and induce pure consciousness”

“i’ve tried to apply but it doesn’t work”

“i get symptoms then nothing happens”

who’s to say that’s true? your subconscious, the only thing you should be worried about, can’t see or hear that you fell asleep last night, your subconscious mind follows whatever you say.

so if the 3d isn’t real how do you know that “you always fail”, what is your evidence of the fact that you always fall asleep. It’s the 3d, in the 3d you fell asleep and woke up in unfavourable conditions. That’s the only reason you have that assumption. So by complaining and whining you reaffirm the reality where you never induce pure consciousness and that becomes fact.

୨୧˚∘EXAMPLE | The A and B analogy

Let’s say Person A and Person B are trying to induce pure consciousness and in the 3D they both fall asleep

- PERSON A goes on tumblr and likes and reblogs self deprecating posts about how they never manage to induce pure consciousness and they hate themselves for falling asleep. They go and complain to bloggers in DMs and asks

“I’ve been standing firm and applying and i just fall asleep”

“i have school/work resuming soon and if this keeps happening i won’t manifest my dream life and im gonna be so upset”

when they say that, they are correct

- PERSON B chooses not to let it get to them. They stand even firmer

“what are you even talking about, i’m a master at inducing pure consciousness and never fall asleep, i have my dream life im so happy”

“i’m not worried about circumstances hitting me, matter of fact, what circumstances, im a god when i say i have my dream life, i have it!!”

when they say that, they are also correct

- And with common sense, you can tell me who is going to induce pure consciousness and manifest their dream life and who is going to be keeping loablr warm till 2030

∘˚୨୧PART II | watch what you’re saying

what your subconscious can’t see won’t hurt it

what your subconscious can’t see won’t affect anything

so last night where you supposedly “fell asleep” doesn’t have to be true if you say it isn’t

seeing the 3D as solid proof is where you go wrong

why is the 3D your reference point?

You are “I AM” whether in the state of pure consciousness or not. You can have everything now if you just decide, don’t let the 3D, which is only a mirror, brake your mind

your subconscious mind only knows what you feed it, your 4D only consists of what you feed it. Your reality only produces what you feed it.

So stop saying you always fall asleep, you don’t.

Stop saying you hate waking up in your unfavourable circumstances, you don’t.

Stop saying all you get is symptoms, you induce whenever you feel like it, it’s first nature to you.

Some of you are perpetuating, solidifying and affirming that you fail, it’s like you’ve given yourself a horrible fate already. Why?

🫐🍨 flip your thoughts, it’s all you need to do for that success story

[rebellum]

Okay so I'll be honest I'm too lazy to find and link sources so I encourage you to actually find a source to read about this on

But something cool to understand about hallucinations is that they're caused by neurons misfiring in the brain kind of randomly

So usually it's like this: eye gets light based visual data > neurons carry the information to the part off the brain that does vision (visual cortex) > the brain takes the raw data and interprets it. So it's like "red round shiny on white flat surface. Ah okay a red apple on a white table."

Or, for touch: sensory neurons get raw touch data > transfer it to interneurons > part of the brain that handles touch (somatosensory cortex) > brain takes the raw data and says "hmm warm and soft touch. Your partner is caressing your arm."

So hallucinations skip that first part, the raw sensory data. Instead the neurons fire despite there not being input.

So the brain goes "oh okay, there's a green blob on the ceiling. That must be the slime monster from Video Game!" So what you're SEEING is a weird green shape, but you KNOW what it is supposed to be. Kind of like a rorschach test almost - it's open to interpretation, but part of that interpretation is already done. So when people say they see, for example, Eminem in their room, they arent seeing a realistic Eminem. They're seeing it like you would see Eminem in your dreams. Impressionism Eminem.

One theory for how/why dreams exist is almost the same way, actually: so when you sleep your brain basically established new neuronal pathways. Doing this stimulates the neurons. So if you played a lot of basketball, the neurons responsible for the memories of basketball (how it looks, the players, the sounds, the smells, etc) are being stimulated, making you "see" them. But, it's more like the raw data AND your interpretation being encoded.. which is why dreams aren't hyper-realistic.

I'm saying all this to explain to people who have never hallucinated* so that you know what it's like. Visual hallucinations look dreamlike. Sound hallucinations are kind of.. almost ranom sounds? But you still know what they're supposed to be. Tactile hallucinations, like formication (that's with an M, from the Latin formi meaning any) feel like little dots all over their body. But your brain interprets it as bugs (or in my case, baby spiders) crawling all over you.

Which i just think is really cool

Also really, really scary sometimes. It's horrifying to see a weird little green misformed face as the edge of your bed and KNOW its a goblin despite it not actually looking like a goblin.

It's like a waking dream

*those who THINK they've never hallucinated. Technically dreams are hallucinations kind of. And you know when you're about to fall asleep but suddenly feel like you're falling? That's actually called a hypnogogic hallucination. It happens when you're asleep (your brain waves show you're asleep) but you don't actually FEEL asleep yet - but that's a whole nother post.

I'm just an eepy lil guy and too lazy to look for sources, but I highly encourage you to look this up. For the general stuff about how the brain interprets sensory input, you can find that on any trustworthy neurology source. For hallucinations specifically and for dreams you may have to actually read academic papers or books on it, sorry.

[sunnypopoki]

— 𝐌𝐔𝐙𝐙𝐋𝐄 ; P.2

(𝘠𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘔𝘢𝘧𝘪𝘢 𝘏𝘶𝘴𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘹 𝘍𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘦 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳)

𝗦𝗬𝗡𝗢𝗣𝗦𝗜𝗦: 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘤𝘭𝘶𝘦𝘴, 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘢 𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘢𝘥 𝘭𝘶𝘤𝘬.

ᴛᴡ: ɪɴꜱᴇᴄᴜʀᴇ ʀᴇᴀʟɪꜱᴛɪᴄ ꜰᴇᴍᴀʟᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ꜰᴏᴜʟ ʟᴀɴɢᴜᴀɢᴇ, ᴍᴀʀʀɪᴇᴅ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱʜɪ���, ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ, ᴍᴀᴛᴜʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇᴍᴇꜱ, ᴏᴠᴇʀᴛʜɪɴᴋɪɴɢ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ᴀꜰᴀʙ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ᴇᴛᴄ.

ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ʜᴀꜱ ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ. ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴍᴇᴀɴꜱ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴡɪʟʟ ʙᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴍᴀᴛᴜʀᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɪɴ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ᴍᴇᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ʀᴏᴍᴀɴᴛɪᴄɪᴢᴇ ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇꜱ, ꜱᴏ ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴅᴏ ꜱᴏ ᴇɪᴛʜᴇʀ. ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ. ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ʀᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴘᴏᴘᴏᴋɪ ᴏɴ ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, Qᴜᴏᴛᴇᴠ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ.

Р.1 / Р.3

The bed was cold whenever you woke up. Your fingers slid across the crisp sheets, feeling for Kieran's warmth even though you already knew he wasn't there. A headache pounded against your temples. Your cheeks were stiff with dried tears. The air was cold and you already wanted to roll back over and go back to sleep, hating the chill in the room.

You didn't feel as distraught as last night. Maybe it was the solid eight hours of sleep, but your brain was fuzzy and lacking. A groan tore through your lips as you stumbled out of bed and wiped at your eyes.

The floorboards were cold and you wondered if Kieran accidentally turned off the heat. You shivered and ran your hands down your arms.

The house was still. Even the dust in the air seemed to move in slow motion, barely drifting through the rays of sunlight that poured through the open windows. You shuffled down the hallway and glanced at the living room. Undisturbed, neat, stale. You almost forgot that you sat there with Kieran last night before he got his phone call. A nasty taste formed under your tongue, lips pursing into a thin line.

If only there was a switch you were able to turn off in your brain. It was the morning and you were already regretting waking up to get breakfast. You rubbed at your eyes and paused at the kitchen doorway and the cold tiled flooring bit at your bare feet.

The clock ticked, telling you it was 4:00 PM. You woke up late again.

A single message was laid on the counter on a pink posted note. You picked it up and noticed Kieran's handwriting that was scribbled down in a rush. Next to it was a small doodle of him holding a heart. It read;

Good morning my кошечка! I'm writing this before leaving for work, but I made you some breakfast and put it in the fridge. Strawberry pancakes and the syrup, if you want any, are in the pantry on the top shelf. I will be back around 5 this evening, remember to eat lunch. I will eat dinner with you tonight. I love you.

You were grateful for any food that he made you. Hell, you were grateful that he even thought of you in the first place to make you food whenever he didn't have to... But you'd rather have his presence instead of some warmed-up pancakes. You crumpled up the posted note and tossed it away. You were hungry but you didn't want to eat, you didn't have the energy or motivation to chew and swallow, much less sit down at the table.

Leaning against the counter, you ran your hands down your face. There were so many things you didn't want to do. You didn't want to brush your teeth, take a shower, or put on a fresh pair of clothes. You didn't want to sleep and you didn't want to be awake either.

The only thing you could think of was Kieran, yet you couldn't shake him off.

The pancakes were left untouched. It was just another meal in the fridge that was waiting to go bad. You couldn't promise that you were going to eat them later whenever you didn't even want to look at them. Kieran would ask later, 'What's wrong? you didn't eat the pancakes I left for you' and you would have to say another lie. It was just your stomach, or you didn't see the note until after you ate something else, or you weren't in the mood for pancakes.

It took everything in your power just to force yourself to go to the bathroom. Even then, he stayed on your mind as you splashed your face with cold water. Staring at yourself in the mirror, you frowned at the dark circles and reluctantly brushed your teeth. A pimple was right above your right brow. God, you didn't want to catch glimpses of yourself either, much less stare into the mirror.

What can I do to make the rest of this day productive?

You hadn't a clue. This only left you waltzing around the house, dabbling in some things, but getting up again whenever you got bored. You couldn't keep still no matter what you tried to do. By six, your mood was bitter, annoyed at your lack of interest in anything and annoyed at why you were feeling so depressed.

Stopping in the middle of the hallway, your eyes snapped to the closed door on the right. That was Kieren's at-home office. He rarely ever used it and it was mostly used as a place for him to store things from his rented out big office or important documents. You were aware that all your birth certificates and SSN cards were locked up in a safe in there. But what else? The last time you went in there was like two months ago, but he usually went in there weekly, even if it was just to grab something.

What if he is hiding something?

Reaching out to the handle, you hesitated. However, that lasted only a short time because curiosity got the best of you. You turned the handle and peeked inside.

His home office was small and cramped, which was why he rented out a room in a small building in the city to have his own office for editing and focusing on work. The walls were lined with books and files, and a small desk was cluttered with papers of all kinds. He needed to clean it out. However, you felt grateful that he hadn't already.

A small look around wouldn't hurt anyone, right? Guilt was already threatening to turn you around and march you back to your room, to put yourself in time-out, but you needed to know if something was going on with him. Your hands fiddled with the handle of the door before you stepped into the room and closed it behind you. A small peak. That's all you wanted. It wasn't like you were going to turn the room upside down to look for things against him.

The inside wasn't dusty and you noticed recent documents on his desk. It was good that he didn't desert the small room entirely for his bigger office. You shuffled to sit on the chair and drummed your fingers against the wood.

Where to start?

You didn't know what you were looking for. Something to give you peace of mind that didn't include talking to Kieran about it. If he was cheating, he wasn't going to outright tell you about it. You weren't sure where he'd hide things if he didn't want them to be found. He had his phone on him and that wasn't something you felt comfortable snooping in, but his laptop had everything about his work.

You hesitantly pulled his laptop closer and opened it. A small peak. It wouldn't do anything. It wasn't like you were going to shame if you found anything raunchy. Sure... it was something he probably should talk to you about, but you didn't blame him, since you weren't exactly someone who was giving him fun nights even if the two of you were married.

Maybe he has gotten bored of me because I haven't had sex with him yet, you thought. It's not that I don't find him attractive it's just...

The idea of intimacy like that scared you. All the possibilities of what could go wrong, what would hurt, and what would be uncomfortable.

Kieran always said he understood and that it didn't bother him that the tow is you weren't intimate in bed. But maybe that was a lie. Maybe he found pleasure in stuff on the internet or some woman he kept seeing. You'd be fine living a life with him even if it meant no intimate pleasures at all, but maybe he didn't think the same way you did. He probably had a lot of pent-up stress and desires, so was it your fault for not doing it with him? Right?

Was he going to leave you for someone else because of that?

Your hands were shaking as the screen turned on. His password was his old childhood cat's name: Sonya. At least he didn't bother to change the password into something you didn't know, that was a good sign, right? You swallowed the lump in your throat and tapped at the keyboard. Ding. You were in.

There were a lot of random things on his desktop. You noticed the editor and graphic design apps, such as Microsoft and Blender, and a few games that you haven't played before in your life.  You tapped at the desk absentmindedly and debated with yourself, wondering if you should just go and watch TV, but an app caught your eye.

M?

You noticed the icon at the bottom of the screen with the letter M. It wasn't a familiar-looking app, nothing you've downloaded onto your laptop before, and it was suspicious. The design wasn't good at all. You chewed on your bottom lip and dragged the cursor over to open it. This app would be the only thing you'd look at. Not his search history or anything—no. You'd have to give him some privacy.

That didn't change the fact that it was hard giving him privacy—not whenever his privacy was the whole reason you were suspicious of him in the first place.

The one thing you wanted to know was where he was going with his business trips. As an editor, you knew that he could have a business trip. Sometimes he met up with clients, however, lately, it's been very frequent. You were jealous of it. If it was someone he was meeting, even for work, why were they more important than his wife? he didn't need to go to work that often, right?

The app opened up and you blinked at the messages that were waiting there. All empty chats with numbers as names, except one. It was named 'Sam' and you noticed a couple of messages within the chat. Maybe a client? Or was it someone he was cheating on you with? Your mouth ran dry.

Okay, maybe you shouldn't be looking at his stuff. Just because you were suspicious, shouldn't you wait until you see him in the act of cheating instead of snooping? This wasn't right. It was a shady app, but maybe this was a client that he wasn't supposed to tell you about. As an editor, he wasn't allowed to share the works he was helping writers with, which went against his agreement.

"I shouldn't be looking at this..."

Yes, you shouldn't, but you needed to know. Why was he always leaving late at night and going on long business trips? Why was he always late whenever the two of you went on dates? Why was he always getting calls? Why did he never stay long enough to sleep in your shared bed? It didn't even feel like his bed anymore...

"Just one peek and that's it," you whispered, "please, don't let me find anything."

You opened the chat and gnawed on your bottom lip. There were only a couple of messages, all of them sporadic at what time they were sent. You paused, freezing when your eyes were glued to a specific set of messages.

Sam -- 3:25 AM

Come see me.

Kieran -- 3:27 AM

Make it quick.

Your hands froze above the keyboard. If you had to be honest, you weren't sure what you were looking at. That was about two weeks ago. What was he doing two weeks ago? Your brain wracked to remember what he did that week and how many times he left the house, but it was a blur. Every week was the same in the long run. You glanced down at the most recent message. It was from Sam.

Sam -- 10:00 AM

Where the hell are you at? Respond to this when you see it. You told me you'd see me today.

Your muscles collapsed. Falling back into the seat, you stared at the screen dumbly, lungs gathering in as much air as they could before you stopped breathing entirely. Everything was cold; your bones, muscles, and blood.

Sam was a unisex name. For all you knew, this was the woman he could be cheating on you with. The messages were distrustful enough. The one from two weeks ago was at three in the morning and this Sam person was asking to meet him? He agreed, so even if you didn't remember that week perfectly, it wouldn't have surprised you to know he went somewhere at three in the morning. Just last night, he left at an odd time and has yet to come back.

Is he with her now?

The thought was crushing. You could imagine it at the forefront of your mind; you saw him panting, grinding his hips into some woman you didn't know, moaning her name like some sort of mantra. His hands would be all over her body and her palms would graze down his inked skin, tracing the very same lines that you have. He would hold her hands, he would kiss her lips, and move his hips like a starved beast.

Tears rolled down your cheeks.

No.

No, no, no.

None of this was real. You were just jumping to conclusions again, you didn't know that this person was a woman, and even if it was—him going to meet her at 3 in the morning wasn't cheating, right? That didn't guarantee that he was having sex with her, dating her, kissing her.

Your nails carved crescents into your palms.

You were angry. You didn't quite get it, but all the hurt you felt manifested like a hot steel rod through your heart. Short breaths escaped your lips and a choking sob followed. You didn't want to cry, you were tired of crying, but that didn't stop your heart from collapsing and burning all over again. So you punched, you punched at your knees and thighs until you knew bruises would form later, and you didn't stop.

"Damn it!" you wheezed, fist slamming down on his desk so hard that a pile of papers slipped to the floor. "Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!"

He didn't.

He wouldn't.

The chair tipped back whenever you got up. You were dizzy and you blamed it on how fast you were breathing, aggressively wiping at your tears until your eyes turned red and raw. The office door slammed shut behind you as you fumbled to throw on some new clothes and shoes, tossing on a hat to hide your hair. You needed out of the house. Anywhere, yes anywhere! You'd go anywhere that was better than this place.

He wouldn't have done it, right? No, he wouldn't have! You didn't know anything for certain. Yes, you just had to stop jumping to conclusions. In fact, it would be better if you just stopped thinking entirely. Shut your brain off and stop questioning your husband's loyalty, because no way he would cheat on you—

But what if he is? you thought, Sam could be better than me in everything. She could be prettier, smarter, sexier. What if she gives him what he wants with sex? What if he is happy and satisfied with her?

Wouldn't that make you selfish for wanting to keep hanging onto him?

You kicked the pot outside. It shattered when it fell off the porch and you cursed, stomping past it, and going down the street. Your eyes were puffy and red, cheeks blotchy from your stupid waterworks, and you looked messy. You didn't care. You couldn't gather the energy to care. So you walked down to the store that was a couple blocks away at the bottom of the hill, gripping your wallet tightly.

You needed a long walk to calm you down. So you did just that—you walked to the store as slowly as possible, sucking in the cold air, wishing all your foul emotions would melt away like that sloshy snow on the side of the road.

It didn't take long to reach the store. Unluckily for you, you didn't notice the slightly dimming sky. It always got dark early in winter.

The store was welcoming. There was no one inside except two workers who were minding their own business. They flashed you a smile before you scurried to the back of the store, grabbing a pack of your favorite chips and a soda from one of the fridges. You exhaled and glanced at the tempting chocolates near the front. You didn't need them, plus you had a feeling you'd eat them all in one go and make yourself sick, so you refrained from buying them.

Sighing, you walked up to the front and placed your items on the counter. An older lady walked up to the register, the pretty red ribbons styling in her hair catching your eye. They matched the red eyeshadow around her eyes and the red mascara she was wearing.

"Are you okay, sweetie?" the cashier raised a worried eyebrow when she noticed your appearance, glanced around, and then lowered her voice, "Do you need me to call someone for you? Are you in trouble?"

You managed a weak smile. "I'm good, just a rough day."

It took everything in your power to not spill your guts to this lady. Oh, how you wanted to tell someone about what you were going through, what you were thinking, but who would you tell? All your friends were in happy relationships, they wouldn't understand, and couldn't speak to the one man you usually told everything to because it was about him.

The cashier smiled softly, saying, "Oh, I apologize. I heard there have been a lot of kidnappings around here recently, so I wanted to make sure there was no bad person in the store with you. Women need to look out for other women!"

Your chest warmed up at her smile. "Yes, we do. Thank you. I love how your charms and makeup match, it's very pretty."

The cashier bashfully waved her hand and laughed. "Aww thank you! You look like you have a kind heart, so I things get better for you, sweetie. Hopefully, these snacks will make you feel better."

She handed you the bag and you nodded, muttering a 'thank you' and a simple 'I hope you have a good evening' before you turned on your heel and bolted for the exit.

The doors slid open and that warm feeling in your chest faded, pausing to stop and stare at the sky. It got dark quickly. It wasn't fully dark, the sun was just over the horizon, painting orange and pink streaks into the clouds. A bird flew down and perched on a lamppost.

If only you were a bird. They were able to fly anywhere they wanted to go, they didn't have a care in the world, and they didn't have to struggle with whatever mess you were struggling with. You didn't know how you should label what you were going through. You didn't know if your spouse was a cheater, you didn't know if you deserved to be cheated on, and you didn't know why you were dragging it with you.

Just like that, the nice interaction you had was in the back of your mind, and you felt like shit again.

Why can't I just be the type of wife who trusts him?

You always compared yourself to the images of wives you saw on TV and the internet. Smiling, happy, and who had great communication with their spouses—yet here you were, afraid to ask your husband just because you didn't want to face the fact that it might be real. To face the fact you could potentially lose him. You were angry at him too, you didn't want to hear excuses, and you didn't want to look at him.

Yeah, maybe you did deserve to get cheated on, but you were still pissed at him for discarding you if he did. For tossing you out like you were nothing as if he forgot all the years the two of you have been together.

If he cared, you were starting to no longer feel it. That gnawing thought that each time he kissed you, he imagined it was another girl. His touches felt distant at times and you wondered what else he had on his mind to make him so ghostly.

You glanced down at the chips and soda in your bag. So much for trying to eat the pancakes he made later. You didn't have the desire to eat anything he made, you'd end up crying again if you did. Your phone buzzed in your pocket and you glanced down, moving the heavy bag around as you struggled to get your phone out.

Speak of the devil, and he shall arrive.

Kieran ❤︎  -- 9:48 PM

Where are you?

Your lip twitched into a frown. From what you saw earlier, you didn't want to talk to him at all. Your mind was still reeling with what message you saw on his laptop, wondering just who Sam was, and why everything was so suspicious. Your face was stiff from the bitter cold and all the dried-up tears you sobbed earlier.

It wasn't fair. He was asking where you were but each time you asked him, he either was vague or said some sort of response that didn't make sense! Your teeth gritted together and you felt tears welling back up. Angry. You were absolutely livid at him. You were livid at yourself. Hell, you wanted to scream at something but you didn't know who deserved to be screamed at.

Was it you because you weren't a good enough wife for him to stay around? Or was it him for not staying around in the first place?

You managed to type back. Even so, no matter how angry you were, or how sad, you always found yourself responding the longer you stared at his name on the top of the screen.

You — 9:49 PM

Store. Walking home now.

You watched the bubble appear. Within seconds, before you had the chance to put your phone away and pretend you never saw his message, he replied.

Kieran ❤︎ — 9:50 PM

Stay put and don't leave the store. I'm coming to pick you up. It's not safe for you to be walking out when it is getting dark ❤

You wanted to throw your phone. You stomped your foot and shoved your phone into your pocket, glaring holes into the cement as you stood out on the sidewalk outside the story.

It wasn't terribly dark yet but it was dark enough that it wasn't safe. That was your fault, you were the idiot for giving into your compulsions and going to the store whenever you wanted to go out of the house. Yes, you should wait for Kieran, no matter how angry you were because it was the responsible thing to do.

But you didn't want to wait. The house was only two blocks away and you knew everyone in the neighborhood. It wasn't like you hadn't walked out to the store before in the dark, so what would happen this time? You had your keys and the can of soda in the bag would be a good weapon to swing at someone.

He never tells me where he's going, you cussed inwardly, so he can just suck it up and wait for me to walk home.

Yes, you were being petty.

But who wouldn't be? You just found a very suspicious message on your husband's laptop from someone named 'Sam', and now he wanted you to wait for him to come and pick you up. You were hurt. You were angry. You were confused. You didn't want to see his face but at the same time, all you wanted to do was to snap at him for him to explain everything.

It had to be your fault, right? Why else wouldn't he want to spend time with you if it wasn't your fault?

You let your emotions get the best of you, storming down the side of the street as you ventured farther and farther away from the sanctuary of the store. Street lamps flickered as you walked up the hill with your shoes clicking against the sidewalk. There was no sign of the car he was in.

The thought of sitting down on the concrete and letting your heart out was tempting. There was no one around and you were getting tired of the same bleak, lonely expanse of your home. The sidewalk looked more welcoming than the bed at home you could cry on. You stopped dead in your tracks and sighed, tears welling up. 

You didn't even realize you were sinking to your knees before you were already sitting on the sidewalk. You weren't sobbing, no wailing, but single tears that rolled quietly down.

So many people would say so many things if they saw you like this. Maybe they'd call you dramatic, maybe they were right, but everything felt so suffocating. You felt trapped. You didn't want to go home but you wanted to be home, you wanted Kieran to hold you but you also didn't want to see him. It was all so complex.

Maybe everyone would call you cowardly and pathetic. God, you already knew that. You were crying on the sidewalk instead of going up to him and asking him—but what if he said an answer you didn't want to hear? What if he admitted to cheating? What if he said he didn't love you anymore? The fear of rejection was the one reason you kept your mouth shut... the fear of losing him.

If you lost him, you didn't think you could fall in love again.

You don't think you would want to.

All you wanted was to have the love of your life back; his smiles, his hugs, him holding you to sleep. You wanted the man you saw at your wedding—when he looked at you as if you were the only person to exist. But now maybe that wasn't true. Maybe you were just a woman he didn't want to be around anymore. Maybe you were dragging him down and he was just waiting for the perfect time to tell you.

God, I'm so scared, you thought. What if I'm right? What if it isn't all in my head?

Your phone buzzed. No. You wanted to ignore him, you wanted to stay here, you wanted to cry until all that was left was a numb destroyed path.

The last time you had a good unashamed cry, you couldn't remember. It was always muffled because Kieran was around or you were in your car, but now no one was around, but now you were too tired to sob like you wanted to. Crying made you feel like a crybaby, like some bitch who couldn't keep it together, even though you had every reason to shed a couple tears.

You were angry at yourself for going behind his back to snoop through his laptop because you were too scared to have an adult conversation with him, you were angry at him for always leaving you alone and confused, and you were angry that this situation was even happening.

God, you felt so repetitive. Yeah, you were angry and sad, maybe you should just stop whining and dwelling on it. How easy everything would be if you could.

"Hey girly, you okay?"

You froze. For a split second, you thought it was Kieran, but it was two men when you looked up. Two white men, one with a buzz cut and the other had a short perm, tattoos covering their arms. Cigarettes hung from their fingertips. Maybe it was because you were used to how Kieran looked, but you didn't immediately assume they were 'bad guys' because of how they looked.

You wiped your tears away and sniffled, "Uhm, shit, yes I'm okay."

The man with the buzz cut raised an eyebrow. A shiver shot down your spine whenever he smiled. Okay, maybe he was a bad guy because something about this felt wrong.

"Why is a cute thing like you cryin' in a place like this?" he asked, then glanced at his friend, "a poor girly like this shouldn't be cryin' out on the street, don'cha agree?"

The other man nodded, "Yeah. Where are ya' going?"

Sweat trickled down your back. You stumbled up from the ground, backing away from them, gripping your bag just in case you had to swing it. You cleared your throat and did your best to sound firm, "I'm heading home, so if you'll excuse me..."

The men smiled like preying hyenas. "Oh, we can walk you home--"

"(Y/N), thank god!"

Your head snapped to the side when Kieran shouted. There he was, rushing towards you in a jog, stopping to catch his breath. Why wasn't he in the car? He looked distraught. His hair was a wild mess, sweat on his brow, panic in his eyes that fell into relief whenever he saw you. He didn't give you a chance to speak before he grabbed your shoulders, yanked you into him, and crushed you in a hug.

"Why the hell did you not answer any of my calls? You didn't text me back either, fuck, I thought something happened to you! I told you I was going to pick you up!"

You were stunned. He pulled back and cupped your face, noticing your tear-stained cheeks. He looked like he just got sucker punched in the gut.

"Why are you crying, Котик? Did something happen?"

Oh, how it looked in his eyes. He probably assumed the worst happened to you whenever you weren't at the store and all his calls and messages were ignored. You couldn't blame him for being panicked. Guilt stabbed you through the heart; you just scared him to death just because you were angry and sad over a questionable situation. It was an immature reaction based on an assumption and now he was the one dealing with the aftermath.

Suddenly, you felt like the worst piece of shit in the world.

However, anything you wanted to say was stolen from your lips whenever Kieran looked up. The two men who tried talking to you stared back with unimpressed, raised eyebrows. Kieran's eyes narrowed.

"Who are you?"

The man with the buzz cut grinned. "Oh, well we saw this girly sitting on the sidewalk so—"

"I asked who you are?" Kieran deadpanned, "that means your name."

Both the men shuffled on their feet. The man with the shaggy hair spoke, glaring, "What do you want our names for? It doesn't matter."

Kieran pursed his lips. Whatever he was thinking, you couldn't read it, and you could tell they couldn't either by the way they started to glance at each other. He sighed and his fingers fumbled with the edge of your shirt. He glanced down at you, giving you whiplash with how soft he looked at you.

"Did these men hurt you? What happened?"

"Hey! We already said--"

Kieran's voice dropped and he glanced at them, his glare cold enough to send a chill through hell, "I didn't fucking ask you, so keep your mouth shut until I tell you to open."

You didn't try to speak, you just shook your head and gripped his arm tighter. Kieran snapped his head back up to glare at them and they squirmed. He analyzed them for a bit, letting them get increasingly nervous by the second.

"Now that I look at you, you seem familiar. Elliot? Elliot Smith?"

The man with the buzz cut, Elliot, froze.

"I heard about you. I have a friend who works in the police, he told me about you. Weren't you charged with sexual harassment three months ago?" Kieran stared, his expression cold, "There have been some rumors recently that you've been trying to get into gang activity as well."

Elliot's face turned red as if all the air supply was cut off to his face. He looked like a plum when his cheeks grew from red to purple, his eyes shifting through different emotions to gauge what to say next. You blinked. He was charged with sexual harassment? How did Kieran know about something like that? When did he get a friend who was a cop?

Is the cop Sam?

Kieran wasn't a man who watched the news that often, so you doubted he was lying about where he got the information. You shuffled on your feet and his hand held you tighter. Damn it. You really threw "stranger danger" out the window just because you were pissed and wanted to spite your husband by walking home instead of waiting for him.

Elliot stumbled forward and started to stammer out his words. Kieran didn't step back, but you didn't miss the way his muscles tensed up like a wild cat about to lunge forward. He started to drum his fingers against your arm—you weren't sure if he was trying to comfort you or distract you.

"I am not in the mafia, Russian bastard!"

Kieran raised an eyebrow. He ignored the obvious attack on his ethnicity, not caring that he was called a Russian bastard. He tilted his head, "the mafia?"

"Yeah! You're accusing me of working with the mafia just because of some still rumors you heard from a cop. Those rumors aren't--"

"Ah, no," he smiled humorlessly, "I imagine they aren't interested in уличные дворняги. Plus I said gang activity, as in little boys running around with baseball bats and pockets filled with drugs."

Elliot's buddy jumped forward to save his friend's skin. His glare didn't match Kieran's, it was weak and anxious. His hand was shaking and he pointed a hand at you. You feared what bullshit he was going to come up with and you didn't get a chance to interrupt before he spouted it.

"You should give us to her, man. If you go around accusing people of crimes, you probably do shit yourself, like abusing her. I bet you're the one who made her cry. Her eyes are puffy, she looked fuckin' defeated when we saw her. So hand her over before we call the cops."

Time stopped.

Kieran sucked in a breath.

"Excuse me?"

"I'm saying that you probably abuse her or something! If you don't leave her with us, man, we will call the cops on you!"

Kieran's face shifted into something darker. Much darker. That sweet and worried expression he had for you molded into something malicious. The last time you saw a look like that was whenever some kid in your freshman year of high school insulted you. That same kid got two of his teeth knocked out that same day. Kieran never told you he did it, he acted like he didn't know, but you remembered vividly how he tried to hide the blood caked under his nails back then.

You never thought something like this would happen. Sure, they haven't harrassed you, but accusing Kieran of abuse whenever he hasn't done anything wrong made your chest bubble up. You were the one who screwed up and got all of you in this situation, not him.

"Hey, he's not—"

Kieran squeezed your shoulder. You saw the way he glanced down at you, subtly shaking his head, telling you to leave it to him. You weren't sure what he was thinking anymore or what he was doing—all you wanted was to go home. It was you who put everything in this situation because of an emotional mistake, so you should be the one to suck up your responsibility and leave the situation.

"leave her with you?"

Elliot spoke up. "The poor girly was crying and now some tattooed, large bastard like you comes up! You think the police would believe—"

"And they'll believe someone who was recently released from prison for sexual harassment?"

Elliot clamped his mouth shut. His eyes snapped to you, narrowing into daggers, and sweat built on your brow. He pointed an angry finger at you.

"Well isn't it her fucking fault for walking out whenever it's dark? She doesn't have brains if she thinks that someone looking like her would be able to go home without getting hit on! It's normal for good-looking women."

Oh, if looks could kill, you were sure that those two men would have dropped dead. Elliot paled when he noticed how Kieran was glaring at him. He was on the edge, two seconds away from grabbing that hand and seeing how many times he could bend his finger until it snapped off.

It was scary. You'd be lying if you said that you weren't scared of an expression like that, because you had a feeling that the only reason he wasn't violent was because you were there.

Just like when the two of you were younger.

"...Kieran, why—why don't we go home? Okay?" you stammered, "We don't need to waste our time here. We wanted to have dinner together, remember?"

Kieran's lip twitched and his green eyes shifted down to you. They were sharp and calculating, his arm wrapped around you like a coiled spring.

"Let's just go home," you whispered. Please.

By the look of Elliot's face, he was hoping the two of you would leave too, scurrying back closer to his friend who had been quiet throughout the entire ordeal. You didn't blame him. He looked just as grey and sickly as the cement beneath their feet.

Kieran's jaw was clenched. He stared at you as if he was debating all the options he had. You knew him, he didn't like being violent in front of you and always lied in the past about where he was. You weren't naive. You were very much aware that he was violent and you knew that he hated that you knew. To him, he just wanted you to view him as a dazzling husband.

Which he was—just dangerous too.

The two men didn't dare act cocky whenever he finally turned to leave with you. His hand grasped yours and he dragged you back down to the store, not looking back, as if he feared he might actually break their fingers off if he looked at their faces again.

You had a hard time keeping up with his long strides. His head was in the clouds so he didn't bother to slow down, gritting his teeth as he barely managed to make it to the parking lot without turning back.

Kieran sometimes had to use self-restraint when it came down to hurting others. Sometimes, you said, because it wasn't every day that he listened to it. You stumbled behind him.

"Slow down a bit! My legs—my legs aren't as long as yours!"

It was a miracle he actually heard you. Like a dog hearing a special command, he stopped dead in his tracks and you almost rammed your nose into his back. You inhaled sharply and let the burning of your legs rest a bit. He was basically jogging! You barely had enough courage to meet his eye whenever you noticed the familiar sensation of his gaze boring into your head.

His green eyes were dark.

Oh.

He was angry at you.

The silence was loud even though there was the distant sound of cars honking, the wind between houses, and some cat in an alleyway. You didn't know what to say. You wanted to apologize to him, for making him worry and putting yourself in a dangerous situation because of an emotional decision, but nothing would leave your lips. You opened your mouth, closed it, opened it again, closed it again. You must have looked like a gaping fish out of water.

He had every right to be angry at you. You were aware that you tended to blame yourself in situations where you weren't involved, but you knew that you messed up.

Guilt twisted your gut up into one big knot. You didn't know what to do or say to untangle it, much less make it to where Kieran wasn't staring at you in the way that he was. Angry, confused, questioning why the hell you didn't just wait for him—and you felt guilty because you knew you couldn't just tell him why.

"I..."

He wasn't speaking. Was he waiting for you to give him something to work with? Even if it was some shitty lie or bad excuse? Your hand let go of his and started to fuddle at the hem of your shirt.

"...I'm sorry, I know I—I messed up. I, uhm, I made a bad decision—"

Kieran took a deep breath. How odd that such a small action caused every word you planned to speak to collapse, cutting your apology short. You couldn't look him in the eye. Dangerous thoughts started to swirl around in your head like poison; was he disappointed in you? Was dumb mistakes like this the reason he never stayed around you? Maybe he viewed you as a child who couldn't make reasonable decisions? Were you being emotional? Maybe he wasn't mad at you and you were assuming things?

You wished you had the courage to ask him all those questions. You wished you had the bravery to listen to the answers without crying. But you didn't, so you kept your mouth shut.

Kieran shuffled on his feet and placed a hand under your chin, lifting your head.

"Look at me."

His green eyes weren't as dark as before. He wasn't happy, yeah, but he looked as if he was trying to be gentle and understanding. You swallowed the lump in your throat.

"Thank you for apologizing," he murmured sincerely and he took a deep breath,  hanging his head, "I'm also sorry that men like that decided to target you. You were probably so scared and me acting like... me probably wasn't helping, was it?"

"Well, you—you were with me so I wasn't scared. I was more just... nervous I guess. I don't know, I went off on my own because I was emotional, I'm sorry—"

His eyebrows creased and his hands cupped your face. He was so tender with how his thumbs brushed over your cheeks and he leaned in close, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. He melted at the touch of your skin, fluidly stepping forward and leaning in as close as possible. He drank in your presence, your warmth, the smell of your hair, and the rising and falling off your shoulders.

"Let's... let's talk about this at home, okay? I'm not mad, I just..." he trailed off and his eyes darkened, "I was scared something happened to you. When I couldn't find you at the store, when you weren't responding to my calls or texts, and when I saw those fucking свиньи with you—"

He cut himself off. He closed his eyes and took a couple of breaths.

"We're going home. Come on."

You yelped whenever his hands curved under your knees and he picked you up, carrying you like you were some damsel in distress. Any questions, excuses, or complaints you wanted to say dissipated when you saw that distant look on his face. Just like you've seen before, he looked ghostly, like he saw something you couldn't see. Just where was his head at?

You looked away. Anger buzzed in your bones, guilt was drowning your heart, and you too had a fuzzy feeling inside your head that made you feel distant.

I shouldn't have left the house.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

LINKS :

— 𝘋𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘚𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘦𝘳

— 𝘞𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘱𝘢𝘥

— 𝘘𝘶𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘷

[ P.3 ]

[ddlydevotion]

Dating Luigi Mangione ࣪ ۪ ֢ 🦢‌ࣳ ! !

currently listening to: salvatore by lana del rey

a/n: I’ve been seeing many fics of Luigi where people portray him as rude/aggressive so I wanted to try something a lil different.

His facial expressions are always on point in every video we’ve seen of him, so I have a feeling he’d be a very active listener. You could be in the middle of telling him how your day went and a small smile would spread across his lips at the sound of your melodic voice. His eyebrows twitching with concern once you start to mention anything negative occurring. this is basically his face when he’s listening to you:

He would most definitely be the type to make playlists in your name while he’s thinking of you. He’s so in love with you to the point where he can no longer listen to his favorite music without thinking of you and the beautiful moments the two of you have shared. He also has a habit of sending you songs that he thinks you’ll like/remind him of you.

He loves being able to live life to the fullest and loves doing it with you even more. He takes photos of the two of you wandering around whatever city you’ve traveled to with a little $30 digi cam. He has a Polaroid of the two of you placed in his wallet.

Luigi doesn’t need a gift to be expensive in order to fully cherish it. You could give him a handwritten letter and he’d protect it with his life because you gave it to him. He can’t afford to lose any evidence of the love the two of you share for one another. He loves gifting you items that reminded him of you, things you mentioned enjoying, surprising you to go do something you’ve mentioned wanting to participate in. You don’t even have to mention any of these things more than once because he’ll remember.

His back pain can get incredibly severe and there comes days where he can’t seem to focus on even the most simplest of things. Having you there while he attends physical therapy, participates in yoga/gets helpful treatments somehow makes the pain a bit more manageable. Knowing that he can go to you when he needs something is enough to ease his anxieties in situations regarding his chronic pain.

As I’ve mentioned before, Luigi loves trying new things and exposing himself to unfamiliar cultures/locations. This fact goes hand in hand with his openness to trying new food with you. Oh, he’s never tried ____ before? Well, might as well try it now with you!

You make his travels so much more lively and notable.

Three words: skin to skin.

The loving warmth of your welcoming hands and fingers tracing shapes onto his muscular back makes him feel as if he’s on cloud nine. He loves being able to wake up to the sun peeking through the blinds and feeling your bare skin embracing him.

He has a HUGE family and mostly all of them have heard the lovely stories he has stored up about you. During the first Christmas you ever spent with his family, they made sure they had your favorite foods out on display. How did they know they were your favorites? Well, you have your boyfriend and his ramblings to thank for that. Despite not having spent much time with you, his family still found the time to provide you with your very own gifts. You’ve felt nothing but welcomed by their presence as they treated you like an old friend upon your first meeting.

You don’t really have to want for anything when you’re with Lu. You mention wanting to go see that movie that just came out? He already has a tab open on his phone to purchase tickets. He sees you eyeing something at the store but hesitate buying because ‘it’s too much’ ? Well, he’s putting it in the cart anyway.

Definitely calls you cute little variations of your name. His favorite terms of endearment to use for you are probably: baby, cutie, babe, princess, etc. was gonna put sweetheart but I’m not too sure

[yunjardi]

STRICTLY BUSINESS [18+]

[JAKE SIM DRABBLE]

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/pairing: boss!jake x fem!assistant/

/content warnings: smut [18+ mdni], semi-public sex, unprotected sex, oral [m receiving], dirty talk, spanking, making out/kissing, nail marks, pls lmk if i missed anything!!!/

/wc: 1,296

/author's note: i know i said this would be more of a drabble, but i got a little carried away lol. i'm super glad to be back after over a year <3 thank you to those who have been here and also those who are just stopping by :) ily <3

p.s. this is not proofread at all oops

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you found yourself wondering how you managed to get yourself into this position.

that said 'position' being on your knees between jake's legs as he sat back in his office chair.

you didn't think that this was something that actually happened in real life, fucking your boss that is. it seemed so unreal until a few short months ago when you were hired to be jake's personal assistant- something that would ultimately lead to you keeping a dirty little secret.

jake is smooth talker, so you assumed that he spoke in a flirty manner to everyone. that was until the two of you began building a closer relationship which was natural due to the nature of your job, but you didn't think that it would go this far, you didn't think that you two would end up being this close.

flirting turned into dates (that jake referred to as simply 'treating my assistant for being so great at her job'), dates turned into late nights together, late nights together turned into sleepovers, and those sleepovers soon became a regular occurrence. i mean, waking up and already being by your boss's side first thing in the morning makes your job a whole lot easier, right?

right.

whatever way you tried to dance around it doesn't (and won't) change the fact that you are, indeed, banging your boss.

"just like that," jake breathed out as you let his tip hit the back of your throat, "such a good girl."

a constant string of praises, moans, and curses fell from jake's pretty lips as you mercilessly teased him with your tongue, unable to stop yourself from getting wet in the process.

jake smirked and raised an eyebrow as he noticed one of your hands gently slipping into your panties. he watched as you pleased yourself whilst simultaneously pleasing him which was bringing him closer and closer to the edge.

"is my princess getting riled up?" jake cooed as he looked down at you, being sure to focus on the way you touched yourself. you couldn't help but look away as your face began to heat up at the sudden confrontation, but jake was quick to tilt your head up so that you had no choice but to look him in his pretty eyes.

"so cute," jake chuckled sexily as he brushed your hair away from your face, "now, be a good girl and sit on my desk, yeah?" naturally, you followed his orders (mostly out of habit at this point) and sat yourself up on his desk, ready to fulfill his every request.

he looked gorgeous standing before you, his hair slightly messy from having run his hands through it and his shirt halfway unbuttoned. it was impossible for anyone in their right mind to not be attracted to him in some way, shape, or form.

jake gently leaned in, giving you a tender kiss on the lips before moving down to you neck. his hands wandered from your lower back down to your thighs as he continued to kiss all over you, causing your breath to hitch. he made sure to hike up your already short skirt as the gap between your bodies became slimmer and slimmer.

you instinctively brought your hands up to further unbutton his shirt, wanting to see the entirety of his toned body. jake followed suit, beginning to slide the thin strap of your top down your shoulder before fully discarding your shirt somewhere in his office, leaving you in the lacy bra jake had gotten you as a gift for 'being such a great assistant.'

it drove him crazy to see you wearing the pretty bra he bought just for you, and it made him crave you even more desperately.

he couldn't resist you any longer.

he pulled you into a passionate kiss before teasing your entrance with his tip, causing a little gasp to get caught in your throat at the sudden rush. once again, he tilted your face upward, making sure to meet your gaze before slowly inching his throbbing tip into you. you gripped tightly onto his forearm as his cock went deeper and deeper inside you, your walls squeezing every inch of his length.

"jake-" you moaned out as you loosened your grip on his forearms, your hands now holding onto his as he slowly began to move his hips. your eyes rolled back as you let a string of moans leave your lips, his thick tip hitting your sweet spot with every single one of his strokes.

"your cunt is so tiny and small, yet you take me so well," jake smirked as he brought one of his hands down to your clit, beginning to gently rub circles around it as you struggled to keep your legs apart.

your moans became increasingly desperate as jake began to pick up his pace, his hands now gripping at your thighs as he pounded your sweet spot. you could only manage to let out little whines and begs for him to not stop as you felt yourself leaning closer and closer to your climax.

jake promptly picked you up from his desk and sat you down on his lap, guiding his length back inside you as to not waste any precious time that he could be spending fucking you.

the two of you moaned in sync as you sunk back down onto his cock, his tip immediately poking at your spot once again.

after he fully bottomed out, you wasted no time grinding your hips against his, still desperate to reach your high.

jake let his head fall back in pleasure as he left harsh spanks on your ass and thighs. "my good girl," jake moaned deeply into your ear as he left kisses on your neck, "you're all mine, yeah?" you barely managed to nod your head through the extreme pleasure. "mhm, all yours," you moaned breathlessly as he fucked his cock into you from underneath you.

a familiar burning sensation bubbled in your core as jake took control again, being rougher with you than he was before. all you could do was moan uncontrollably about how good he felt being this deep inside you.

"feels good, yeah?" jake teased as you snaked your hands around his shoulders, leaving your nail marks on his skin, "you haven't managed to let go of me since i put my dick inside you." he chuckled as he let caressed all over your body. you pouted at his teasing, but that only prompted him to grab your face and kiss you before pounding into your pussy again.

you could barely warn jake before you inevitably came all over his hard cock. all you could do was let out pathetic moans and hold onto him as you reached your high which jake found oh-so cute.

"you did so good for me, princess," jake praised you as he gently rubbed your clit, his cock still buried deep inside you, "i won't last much longer either." he sighed breathily, flashing his pretty smile before giving you a few more strokes. soon enough, jake finished alongside you, his deep groans penetrating your ears as he let his seed leak into you.

the two of you sat catching your breaths for a bit before jake helped you get cleaned up. you ruffled his hair as he turned to hand you his suit jacket. jake draped his suit jacket across your shoulders, adoring the way you looked wearing his clothes before the two of you exited his office.

a co-worker of jake's stopped to say hello and commented on how lively he seemed today.

jake couldn't stop the cheeky grin from forming on his face.

"well, what can i say? i've got a really great assistant to keep me company."

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a/n: thankyouthankyouthankyou for reading <3 i've truly missed writing and you all so much ! i'll be back with another one soon my loves <3

main taglist: @axartia @jjhmk @jayroseyy @ayohahaha @asaheyow @bunhoons @red-xherry @duolingofanaccount @leeis @jaeyunologyy @green-orangeade @imbaeksbae @sunghoonmybeloved @leeheeheeseung (send an ask to be added + if you have asked to be on my permanent taglist and don't see your username, pls message me bc i removed blogs that were unable to be tagged!)

©yunjardi on tumblr

[landopoet]

clandestine.

pairing coworker!lando x intern!reader

warnings implications of sex, dirty talk

synopsis your hot one night stand from the other night turns out to be not only a famous racer, but also your coworker.

author’s note heavily inspired by the dynamic MerDer have in grey’s anatomy… some conversations were recycled from the show. also! special thanks to @clovermoters for being my proofreader and biggest support with all my fics <3 love u. enjoy!

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“Hey, psst, wake up.”

It’s already bright and sunny outside, the curtains doing absolutely nothing from stopping the sunlight from blinding you. The curly-haired, absolute beauty of a man sleeping soundly next to you, however, seems to not be bothered by it at all.

He only opens his eyes when you rip the covers off of him and get out of bed, panicking to collect your clothes from your own bedroom floor. “C’mon, you have to go.”

“Huh, why?” He turns over to lay on his back, not at all bothered by his goodies being on full display. Not that you didn’t get an eye-ful of them last night, anyway.

You stand up straight and give him an annoyed grumble. “I’ve my first day of work today and I’ll be damned if I let a man be the reason I’m late for it.”

He leans up on his elbows, watching with half-lidded eyes as you bend down to pick up your shirt. “Let’s not forget that this man was making you scream last night.”

“Whatever.” You grumble again. “Just go.”

The stranger shrugs and gets up, immediately finding his clothes and tugging on his boxers. “What’s the new job?”

“Photography intern.” A hiss leaves your lips as you brush your fingers through your hair, no time to actually find a hairbrush. Maybe a claw clip could do the job for today. “Paid, before you ask.”

“I wasn’t going to.” The sound of a belt being buckled draws your attention back to him. Your eyes drift upwards, following his happy trail up to his abdomen. The man, proud and egotistical, watches as you ogle.

“I never caught your name,” you finally peel your eyes away from his chest and look at his green eyes.

He bites back a smirk and extends a hand towards you. “Lando.”

Lando’s big hand embraces yours, sending a shiver down your spine that you were far too familiar with for the past eighteen hours. “Y/n.”

He watches as you tightly clutch the sheets to your chest, hiding yourself from him, as if he hadn’t explored every inch of your body just a few hours prior. “Last night was-“

“You should go.” You reiterate, a little rude but it gets Lando that much more interested in how quickly your mood changes. “Please.”

Lando gives you a tight-lipped nod before gathering the last of his stuff, keys to a McLaren jingling in his palm as he waves to you by the door. “I’ll see you around.”

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

With just a few minutes to spare, you enter the meeting room and you’re met with six other people, all dressed in bright orange shirts with black details. “Morning,” you smile and take a seat at the large table.

Your supervisor, a woman with narrow and threatening eyes, watches you for a few seconds before turning her attention back to the board. She explains what you’ll be doing at McLaren and what your main concerns should be. Easy.

That is until you’re following an employee around with your camera tightly clutched in hand and you see him. He’s standing by the elevator, looking down at his phone and you’re panicking. You turn on your heel and walk the other way, but the employee you’ve been shadowing calls out for you.

“Y/n, where the hell are you going?”

Lando’s head shoots up at the mention of your name and he watches as your eyes flicker between the other person and him. He gives you a small smile and shakes his head. “Incredible,” he mumbles to himself.

You turn back around, bottom lip between your teeth and you clutch your camera closer to your chest. “Uh, I was, uhm… Bathroom.”

“You just went.” Lexi, the brown-haired employee, cocks her head to the side, evidently confused. You sigh, realising that there was no way to avoid Lando and that you’d have to speak to him eventually anyway.

“Right, sorry.” You nod and make your way back to her. And, unluckily for you, she’s already standing next to Lando, making small talk. You notice her tucking her hair behind her ear, a sign of her being very into Lando, and you roll your eyes.

She turns to you, “this is my intern.”

You awkwardly raise a hand and give him one wave, a less-than-pleased smile on your face. “Lovely to meet you, I’ve heard great things.”

“As have I,” Lando smiles at you with amusement stitched into every crevice of his face. Lexi gives you both a weird look before her phone rings and she rolls her eyes.

“I’ve got to go, Y/N, go upstairs and take a left to office 203. I need you to upload the pictures from your camera to the hard drive on the table,” you nod at her instructions and watch as her whole demeanor changes when she turns to Lando. “I’ll see you around, bye, Lan.”

The man next to you gives her a wink and she lets out a noise that sounds something like a mix between a giggle and a gasp. An eye-roll seems to be your go-to expression whenever you’re near Lando.

The two of you watch as she runs off with her phone in hand, something clearly more important taking her away from her responsibilities. The elevator dings and Lando gestures for you to go first. Once you step in, you’re trying your best to look everywhere but at him, despite your body practically gravitating towards the man.

He’s the first to break the silence. “You could’ve told me you were interning at McLaren.”

“You could’ve told me you worked at McLaren.” You bite your lip to hide how uncomfortable you are.

“The car wasn’t enough of a hint?” Lando turns to you as a small laugh leaves his lips. Fuck, his lips. You haven’t been able to get him out of your head and thoughts of kissing him have been clouding your mind all day. It’s infuriating how much of an effect he has on you without even doing anything. “When do you get off? I’d like to grab a bite after work, if you’re interested.”

You sigh and rub your eyes. “Do you fuck every young woman you work with?”

Your eyes finally find his and you watch as he frowns, confused. “Excuse me?”

“Lexi. Have you slept with her, too?” You knit your arms together and wonder when the hell this elevator stops so you could leave. The lack of air in the confined space made you that much more upset.

His pretty, soft and pink lips pull into a smirk. “Are you implying that I’m some kind of a whore?”

“If the boot fits, wear it.” You hiss and the elevator door dings open. Lando watches as you storm off, the smirk never leaving his face.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

The first few days of your internship went by well.

You managed to steer clear of Lando’s path, the only time you ever interacted with him being for pictures and in the company of other staff. Despite being so confident in shutting him down a few days ago, you couldn’t deny feeling… something.

Still, that something was highly unprofessional and had very slim chances of actually working out, considering your schedules.

You’re only interning at McLaren for a few months, hoping to add to your portfolio, before you open up your own photography studio. It’s been a dream of yours since you were little and you’ve already achieved so much, you couldn’t let that dream go even if McLaren offered you a full-time job.

The elevator dings at your floor and you step out, trying to focus up and get on with a new work day. Lexi said you could make yourself comfortable in one of the meeting rooms on the second floor, as there weren’t many offices available at that time.

So, room 304 has become your own little office.

You’ve put up some of your stuff on the large table, like a succulent and some stationary. It’s organised, neat, yet still has a touch of you to it. You’ve found that this office has become a sort of safe haven, guaranteeing you as little contact with Lando as possible.

Except, when you open the door to your office, Lando’s sitting in the chair and spinning in it like a child.

“Oh, fuck.” A gasp escapes your lips as you clutch your chest, feeling the rapid pace of your heart. “What the hell? What are you doing here?”

Lando’s head whips around to look at you and he smiles that same annoying smile that gets your blood rushing. “Oh, hey. Lex told me I’d find you here.”

“Find me here?” You ask as you make your way over to the table and set your bag down. “Are you stalking me, Norris?”

The curly-haired man starts spinning in the chair again, closely examining the cat figurine he plucked right off of your cozy side of the table. “Ah, yes, because I have nothing better to do than to stalk you.”

“I’m starting to believe that’s true.” You roll your eyes, taking a seat at the laptop you’ve just taken out of your bag. “What do you want?”

“You.” He says, absentmindedly, as he’s looking up at the ceiling and you hate that your eyes automatically gravitate to his neck. Lando clears his throat and sits up straight. “The photos you took of me a few days ago. I want to post them to my Instagram and I was wondering if you could send a few over to me.”

Silly of you to think that he’d come bother you because he simply wanted to bother you. Sure, the banter and persistence of the devilishly handsome man annoyed you to your core, but you couldn’t deny that you liked it. There’s something about how wrong this is that feels so right.

Lando watched as you typed away on your laptop. “I assume you have my email already.”

“Yep,” you nodded. “I’ll edit them and send them over.”

“Alright, thanks.” He stands up and makes his way to the door. Before he opens it, he turns back to you and, with a playful smirk, asks, “dinner’s still a no-go?”

“I’m not going to dinner with you, Lando.” You wave him off. “Now leave, please. I've got work to do.”

“See you later, boss.” He hums as the door shuts behind him and you put your head in your hands.

“For both of our sake, I wish you didn’t.” You whisper under your breath before composing yourself and continuing your photo editing.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

The elevator dings at the ground floor.

“So,” Lexi says as you both enter the elevator. Lexi is the type of girl who tells it as it is, no bullshit, no sugarcoating, pure honesty. So, when she gives you a look— the look, —you wonder what you’ve done now. “What’s with you and Norris?”

“Wha-“ You choke on air. “Me and- and who? What, sorry?” Lexi has to hide her amusement as you fumble over your words. “I don’t- There’s not… No, nothing.”

The brunette in front of you just shakes her head with a laugh. “Right, so he looks at you like he’s seen you naked for absolutely no reason, then?”

Once again, you can’t seem to get any words out so you just look at her. A blank stare straight into her brown, intimidating eyes.

Lexi crosses her arms over her chest and fully turns to you. “Listen, I know you know I like him. I also know there’s something between you two.” She says in a tone you can’t seem to read. “So, please, tell me everything so I could live vicariously through you.”

“Oh, uh,” you’re surprised. “I thought you’d be more upset.”

“I’m upset that you’re not telling me anything,” she rolls her eyes. “Where’d you meet?”

“Bar,” you answer, instantly. “Last weekend.”

Lexi nods. “What was he wearing?”

“White button-up and black dress pants.”

“Fuck, I bet he looked so good.”

“He did.”

You tell her how he was the one to initiate any sort of contact with you other than eyeing each other from across the bar. You tell her how gentle he was, not only when speaking to you but also when he was casually touching you. Lexi listened intently, smiling along with you as you recalled every detail.

Well, almost every detail. There’s parts of that night you wished to keep between yourself and your bedsheets on late nights.

You can’t deny that you want him. Badly. So badly that you might be hallucinating him every time you’re not looking at Lexi.

“Hey, girls.”

This time, much to your surprise, you weren’t hallucinating. Lando was standing right in front of the open elevator door, looking as irresistible as you remembered.

“Hey,” Lexi looks at you for a second, a cheeky smile on her lips as she makes her way out of the elevator. “Y/N, remember what I asked you to do? Can you bring it down to me later?”

You look at the girl and she gives you a wink Lando couldn’t see. “Uh, yeah. I got it.” Lexi, despite being the scariest person in the whole building when you first met her, has proven herself to be a girls’ girl. She smiles at you two as the doors close, and it’s just you and Lando in a confined space, again.

The curly-haired man turns to you, an annoyingly charming smile playing on his lips. “Not talking to me, are we?”

The way he leaned in as he asked the question drove you crazy— his face was right there, right where you could just turn and… kiss him.

Lando doesn’t have time to process what’s happening before your lips are on his and you’re taking his breath away for the tenth time in the same day. First, it was you wearing your hair down that had him take a second to catch his breath. Next, it was the way you spoke to him and the way you tried to pretend like you didn’t want him at all, yet couldn’t resist smiling when he flirted with you. And now this.

He feels heaven on earth when your fingers find the base of his neck and you play with his hair, getting lost in the curls as his hands find your jaw. He lures you in closer and closer, and he’d mould you two into one being if he could.

You feel his hands travel to your waist and he pulls you in, groaning into your mouth at the memory of you around him.

Just as he’s about to tease his hands up your shirt, the elevator dings.

The two of you, like deer in headlights, pause for a mere millisecond before pulling away and practicing launching yourselves to opposite sides of the elevator. You pat down your hair and Lando straightens his shirt, and you don’t speak a word to him as you step out the elevator, making a beeline to your office.

Lando follows closely behind you, amused, intrigued, needy. He needs more of you, a mere kiss in the elevator doing nothing to suffice his fix of you.

You take a seat at your desk, pretending to do work even though all you can think of is locking the door and fulfilling every fantasy in your mind right now. It doesn’t help that he’s stood in the doorway, hands crossed over his chest as he just watches you.

It takes ten minutes before you finish your pretend work and pull the USB out of your laptop. Lando’s eyes are glued to you, like you’re the only person in the world.

When you’re in front of him, waiting for him to move so you could take your fake work to Lexi, he finally breaks the silence. “Is that gonna happen again? ‘Cause if so, I need to bring breath mints.” He nods his head towards you, a small smirk on his lips. “Put a condom in my wallet,” Lando says in a hushed tone, clearly teasing you for what happened back in the elevator.

You roll your eyes and laugh at him. “Move, Norris.”

“Oh, so it’s Norris now.” He moves out your way so you can get out of the room, yet he still trails closely behind you. When you’re at the elevator again, he just watches you get in, eyes narrowed at you in a way only *he could look at you.

“Stop looking at me like that.” You whisper-yell as you press the ground floor button.

Lando cocks his head to the side. “Like what?”

You sigh and drop your shoulders, “like you’ve seen me naked.”

The last thing you see before the doors close is the rise of Lando’s shoulders and another annoying yet devilishly handsome smirk on his face.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

Lando catches you in the elevator the next morning.

He’s as smug as can be and you try your best not to look at him too long. Your hope of surviving this elevator ride dies when he opens his mouth. “So,” he begins. It’s clear that he has nothing to say and that he’s only speaking so he’d talk to you.

“If you have something to say, just say it.” You mumble, a little harsh but you can’t be bothered to put yourself in a good mood that day. You got called up to a meeting with your supervisor and a few others, Lexi and Lando included.

“I don’t have anything to say,” he muses, watching as your face contorts into all sorts of micro expressions. “Do you have something to say?”

“Yes. No.” You look at him and then back to the numbers above the elevator door. “I don’t know.” You pinch the bridge of your nose before turning your head back to him. “You know what? Fine.”

Lando looks at you, like you’ve lost your mind. “Fine?”

You turn to face him with your whole body, arms crossed across your chest and disappointment painting your face. “Fine, I’ll go out to dinner with you.”

He turns to face the door, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Cool.”

“Cool.”

The door opens and you speed off, for the millionth time in the past week. It’s not good for your self-control, and recently declared celibacy, to be near Lando so much. The only reason you’ve decided you’re celibate now is because of that… incident in the elevator. Though you’re sure Lando didn’t mind it at all, but you did.

It was highly inappropriate to be making out with your coworker, at work. Oh, god. What if there’s cameras in the elevator? What if that’s what this meeting is about? You began to worry that you’d be having your first meeting with HR about something you knew would come up.

When you open the meeting room door, Lexi’s already sat next to your supervisor, Eliza. She gave you a small smile and a wave, and you gave her a nervous grimace in return.

Lando, being the annoying coworker that he is, sat next to you. As if you hadn’t already had enough suspicions from Lexi, who didn’t actually seem to mind.

The meeting lasts an hour and Eliza doesn’t get to the reason why you’re there until the very end. “Sorry, why was I called here then? I’m just a photography intern, I don’t think I have anything to do with the race weekend in Italy.”

“Oh, right.” Eliza hummed, pulling out a staff paddock pass for you. “You’re coming with us.”

Your breath hitches in your throat as you take the plastic card and lanyard from Eliza’s hands. “Excuse me?” A whole weekend with not only McLaren, but also Lando. Oh, god.

The curly-haired man sitting next to you laughs silently, before leaning in closer to you. “So that’s dinner in Italy, then?”

[cheeseceli]

Late wait

Pairing: idol!Lee Know × Gn!reader (established relationship)

Genre: fluff, domesticity, drabble

Request: Lee know with a "waiting for us" kinda vibe. Just being together in their own place with lots of domestic fluff. Dancing whenever, seeing movies whenever...

Warnings: mentions of food, Minho is an idol, the cats and the boys are here as well, reader and him live together

A/n: I simply love to write domestic moments | daily click

Minho finds it funny how the most beautiful things in life are always the simplest.

Coming from someone whose life is full of luxuries, he could understand why someone would be skeptical about his statement, but he couldn't be more truthful than that.

He already saw thousands of different people, dressed in fancy suits and drank expensive wine. The places he already went to were sometimes covered in gold, and if not, they'd have a red carpet and sculptures everywhere. He's not going to lie and say these things are bad, or that he despises them. On the contrary, actually. However, when you live a life of "too much", you learn how to appreciate what is simple.

His cats stepping on his face to wake him up. All the times he went somewhere random to camp. Seungmin's burnt barbecue and Felix' brownies. You. All the things that made his life easy.

As much as he loves all those things, maybe he should highlight you a little bit more. It's only fair, since you are the one who plays the major role in making him feel alive.

When Minho thinks about you, he thinks about how he loves to wake up early before some morning schedule and see how you're sleeping peacefully next to him. You always ask him to wake you up before he goes, but he never finds the strength in himself to disrupt your dreams. You have a whole collection of little notes he put next to the bed, apologising for not saying bye, but promising to bring food whenever he's back.

He also remembers dance nights. As he is a professional dancer and an idol, he thought he wouldn't want to move a single muscle the moment he gets home. However, whenever he comes home to you singing some random song on the radio, it's impossible to not hold your hand and start swaying according to the rhythm. You don't know how to dance. When he's with you, he suddenly forgets how to as well. In the end, it's just two fools in love, dancing how your heart tells you to.

Movie nights where none of you had luck picking what to watch, so you'd just sleep mid the boring show. Cooking homemade dinner and noticing you ran out of all the ingredients, so you have to run to the market. Visiting his parents every Sunday. Staying in the entire weekend with the cats because that's so much better than going out.

There are dozens of little moments like those that Minho could talk about. None of them was particularly special - they were all things that happened every day. Maybe that was the magic of it. Living was easy with those moments, with you.

Now he was coming back home. The day was full of different events. Tiring, extravagant, but nice. He was smiling. But now he only wanted to come home to you. He knew you were staying up late so you could welcome him and ask him how the day was. And as much as you've waited, he'd hug you with his entire being and never let go.

Masterlist | you'll probably like: kiss me (more)

Reminder this is just fiction!! I'm not trying to portray real life and you shouldn't believe that this is how the members actually are. This is just for the vibe and the delulu!

Taglist (open!): @yuyubeans @dandelions-143 @sleepyleeji @jinnie-ret @sheraayasherrecs @rockstarkkami @urlocalmultigroupfan (those I couldn't tag are in bold)

Dividers by @adornedwithlight | images 1, 2 and 3

[jjenthusee]

Enthusiasm

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Summary: Sometimes the most intimidating can be the most tender.

A/N: HAPPYYY NEW YEAR i give u soft Jason 😌 i’ve been on and off (so sorry about that) but im excited to see what stories will be posted to this account this upcoming year :D so much has happened to end December, but i powered through and i wanted to finish something that was sitting in my drafts. so please ENJOY :) comment if you’re comfortable, reblog if you like the story, and have some flowers 💐

Tags: Fluff, hurt/comfort, i just wanna kiss his beautiful face fr, reader and jason are in competition of who can out fluff the other

Word Count: 2.5k

previous work linked here

The smell was strong.

Gunpowder and soaked clothes. Jason felt like a wet dog coming home with his tail between his legs. Holding onto the door frames, trying to not bump into the walls.

He had hoped the rain would have washed away most of the blood and burnt smell that radiated from his skin, but no matter how much he tried to rub it off, it was still there. Lingering after his every step, after every breath he took.

Each step into your apartment felt like he was contaminating more of the air, that he was diminishing the warmth you exuded so effortlessly.

His fingertips burned as he tried to grab a dry shirt and some sweats to change into, but his hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

His mind raced and raced as he couldn’t focus enough to grab a single hanger in the closet. He already felt like he was standing underneath a beacon of light from the single bulb illuminating the entire closet and he couldn’t afford to wake you up now, you might smell him and you would find him disgusting until he would beg and beg that he could strip all the smell away.

Jason felt dizzy at the thought of you leaving. He had imagined many scenarios, all kinds of ways you would be gone. Tortured, kidnapped, or you simply walking out the door as he watched because you didn’t want to love him anymore.

It sickened him. A kind of bile that stuck to his throat when he tortured himself with the thought of you leaving him. He rubbed his face, feeling his calloused hands scratch against his skin as he tried to rub more of the smell away.

He could imagine the sound of your voice, screaming his name in fear or even quietly fading as you faded from his arms.

Sometimes the hallucinations felt so real, like you actually left until he found you at home. Living your life, perfectly fine.

“—on. Jason.”

He instinctively grabbed the knife from his utility belt, so quickly and efficiently that it felt like breathing for Jason.

He was still dizzy, but parts of your face were slowly focusing through his lashes, readjusting until your entire face was clear in his vision. He saw your wide eyes, opened because of the suddenness of him aiming a knife to your neck, but what made him feel even more sick to his stomach was the worried look on your face despite the survival instinct overpowering his brain.

It screamed how much you cared about him. The same man that pointed a blade at you.

He couldn’t breathe.

“Jason, it’s me. I’m right here.” You stood still. Watching the intense adrenaline rush from Jason. It had been a while since you’ve seen him escalate this badly.

“No, no. I‘m—you’re not real.” He pleaded, talking more to himself than at you.

“You’re home. You’re back home.” You tried to reach out with your words, giving him something to metaphorically grab onto.

“Please go away.”

Your heart pinched at his broken words.

“Everything is okay. I’m okay. I am right here.” You repeated.

As adamant as Jason was about stopping his hallucination, he couldn’t raise his voice. He was quietly whispering his pleas as you stood at arms length, confusing his reality and mental images. You didn’t waver to call out to him because he felt more wary of you than you did of him.

The blade he held to you was something he hadn’t done before and as frightened as you were in that moment, you stayed calm. Not for yourself, but from how much he shook and his disheveled appearance, Jason was just scared.

You continued to speak to him, giving him tender reassurances, explaining and truthfully telling him how safe he was and how he could relax from the anxiety plaguing him.

Jason’s eyes were relaxing as he listened to your voice, his muscles were loosening his grip from the blade the more in tune he felt with reality, and he suddenly felt all the exhaustion weigh on him. His knife felt so heavy. Every second he was growing more tired as he realized he was safe enough to finally let it go, so he threw it to the side.

The blade bounced to the floor, reflecting and shining the light from the closet back into the dark bedroom.

You took a deep breath watching the blade leave Jason’s hand, then you looked back to him, seeing his soaked hair stick to his face. His armor caked with dirt and blood blending into the fabric.

As much as you wanted to call Alfred, Jason was in no condition to see another person right now.

As you analyzed him, you saw, physically, how much the night had roughed him up. Jason’s hands were limp at his side, his head hung to your feet as you stepped closer to him, testing how close he was willing to let you get.

“Jay? You’re still in your armor, we need to get you out of your soaked clothes.” You gently spoke.

He said nothing to you, focusing on pacing his breaths in a way that didn’t cause him more anxiety. He kept his eyes closed.

“Do you need my help? I can help, but if you want to do it yourself—“

He grabbed one of your fingers, his frozen hand stinging your warm one that absorbed the heat from your blankets not too long ago. His large hand held onto your singular finger, feeling your smooth skin, trying to sink into the soothing feeling of physical touch.

You patiently waited, letting him go at his own pace to grasp that he was safe enough to ask for this much from you.

“I’m glad you made it home.” You spoke. Feeling Jason’s skin trace your knuckles and veins in your hand like he was memorizing and analyzing the living being he cared so much for.

As he continued his small rubs, he eased his touch to a feather light hover over your arm. Feeling up to press his thumb underneath the fabric of your shirt sleeve, mentally talking to himself about the feel of the fabric and its color.

You let him ground himself, taking note of how still you kept your body. All control was in Jason’s hands like a puppeteer over your entire self. He wanted to scream out to himself that he was selfishly touching you, but he was walking a very thin line of losing his mind any second and the feel of you was keeping him focused on something other than his racing head.

He was so tired that he grasp his hand onto your shoulder to gently pull you toward him, resting his head into your hair, smelling how familiar you were.

He thought you smelt so much better than the gunpowder and burning flesh from his body.

He rested his hand behind your back, slowly feeling up to cusp behind your neck, letting his fingers settle onto your pulse. Counting the thumps and feeling the repeated rhythm he memorized numerous times to fall asleep to.

Jason brought you in closer, matching his breaths to yours because if he felt like passing out, he reasoned to himself that it should be completely because he wanted to be one with you.

You settled your forehead onto his neck, taking a deep breath into his skin.

Jason flinched, feeling his skin tingle to your warm breath exhaling to his hair. He hummed before he was about to pull away from you, remembering his stench.

“I’m sorry, I…stink.” Jason apologized, fighting against himself to release you, but also grip you harder.

You pulled him back to you by his neck and arm, leaning his damp hair onto your head.

“You don’t need to apologize. Besides, I love your smell. I think I stink ‘cause I haven’t showered ever since I got back from work.” You lazily smiled up at Jason, appreciating that he was talking to you.

“You don’t smell.” He emphasized, whispering his sincerity into the small space between your bodies.

“I was sweating a lot today, so we can be stinky together if that’s what you’re worried about.” You comforted him, reaching up to cusp his cheeks. Soothing the redness on his face from his harsh rubs. “We can wash up together if you want to. It’s also okay if you want to do it by yourself. I’m always open to what you tell me, no matter what I’ll be right here until you let me know.”

Jason felt the ease in his shoulders, the voice in his head calming. It wasn’t completely silent, but it was a little quieter when you were speaking so gently to him.

“Can we wash up together?” He asked into your palm, rubbing his nose into your warm hand.

“Of course we can. I can get the water ready while you get out of your gear.”

“Hm.” Jason agreed into your touch.

“I won’t make the water too hot. I also got a new shampoo yesterday and I haven’t used it yet, so we can smell like eucalyptus together.” You could feel Jason’s frozen nose on your hands. “Hon, you’re freezing.”

Your worries were unanswered, leaving you to only furrow your brow at the man in front of you. Jason could only look up from your hands, clearly having nothing to say, but patiently waiting for you to give in to his tender gaze.

He knew you would give in, you always did and he wanted to use it to his advantage to not speak about his night.

He removed his gloves and you heard the slightly damp fabric being pulled from his fingers. With free hands, Jason reached out to rub off the furrowed look on your face, in attempt to cover his tired appearance.

“You’re lucky I’m going to be nice about this. I was about one call away to summoning Alfred or I would’ve drove your motorcycle all the way there if I had to.”

Jason chuckled as he kept kneading the line between your eyebrows. Listening to your stubborn worries that felt like music to his ears as much as he didn’t want to admit it.

“Threatening me now?” Jason asked. Amused, but willing to listen to your voice continuously. The way his voice teased you made your heart tingle, enough to distract you for a moment to look at the way his hair fell onto his face. His features were carved by wavy hair, elegantly placed hair strands that made you waver between frustrated and enamored, but unable to stop your heartfelt lecture.

“Maybe you can distract me, but Alfred is too experienced to even consider hesitating with you.” You tried to go move your eyebrows in defiance against Jason’s thumb, not backing down just yet. “I was about to haul you on my shoulders and dump you onto the back of your motorcycle. I didn’t go through all those lessons with you to not use it against you.“

“I knew it, you were always too excited to take it out for a drive. Can’t believe my own student was actually plotting against me all along.” Jason held onto your face, shaking his head as he traced your jaw with his fingers.

“It’s called “enthusiasm,” Jason.” You started to feel for the zippers of his jacket, moving your fingers against the leather as you slowly took it off his shoulders, carefully watching his body language to ensure you weren’t making him uncomfortable.

“Enthusiasm.” Jason repeated. In the same tone you always swooned at, hearing the familiar low roughness in his voice that was only reserved for you. A dangerous combo as he touched your face so affectionately, you could feel your face heat in the dim closet light. “I know all about enthusiasm.”

He leaned in to slightly peck your bottom lip, feeling his own lips barely touch yours. He felt how dry his lips were, but yours were soft enough to drown out his other worries and insecurities. Enough to feel the intimacy, but not enough to solidify something more.

You smiled, clearly won over by Jason’s charm. In one swoop you pulled the jacket off Jason, leaving him in his usual patrol skintight top with his emblem reflecting what little light was in the room.

You couldn’t imagine the fear that red bat symbol brought to the bad people lingering at night, realizing the bad shit they brought on themselves because that emblem was the last thing they would remember.

But you always liked what was beneath it, what it tried to protect. The part of Jason that he relentlessly tried to hide and you had the patience to slowly unveil every bit of it.

“Save that enthusiasm because we might not be able to wash up if you kiss me one more time.” You rubbed your hands into the back of his neck, feeling the tense muscles and wanting to help him relax for a bit with some warm water and rubbing some shampoo into his hair to hopefully allow him to sleep a little tonight. “Clean your gear in the morning, I wanna warm up with a shower and you can help me dry my hair.”

“Hm.” Jason agreed as he kept rubbing your lips with his thumb. You felt accomplished as you felt his hands slowly warming from your physical touch.

“I’ll get us some fresh towels. Grab the new shampoo after you remove your gear.” You released yourself from Jason and made your way to the bathroom. “It should be in the bag by the bed. I forgot to take it out.”

With some soreness, Jason removed his utility belt and picked up the thrown knife to safely secure it back in its place. He felt the weight in his eyelids as he made his way to the bathroom, hearing the water turn on.

When he pushed the door open silently, he watched the way you moved. Adjusting the heat of the water, placing freshly dried towels on the counter, and the way you were so perfectly domestic.

Jason didn’t want to disturb you, soothing himself to the sight of you after he exhausted himself from the repeated torture his mind put himself through.

When you looked back, the look you gave him almost made him melt to the tile floor. That it was unreal he was allowed this.

You pulled him into the bathroom, much like the other ways you introduced him to various simplicities he started to enjoy in his life.

He didn’t want to admit it to you, in case you would be offended, but he cherished how mundane you were. That he could feel as close to ordinary next to you. That the scars that littered him weren’t going to drive you away.

Piece by piece, clothing were removed from the two of you. It was comfortable to bare yourself, to share this intimate experience of bathing together. Washing and holding each other under warm water. Massaging and lathering soap.

The steam was filling the bathroom, slight humidity relaxing your skin and your shared scent radiating off each other.

The night was turning into dawn, but you dried each others hair. You gently laid into the bed to slowly rub at Jason’s head, easing him and yourself into another slumber.

[lightlycareless]

to celebrate both the new masterlist I made for Toji, and the newyear (and also his birthday??? damn) I decided to write a little something for him :) it was somewhat inspired by these other works that aren't really necessary to read but you can go ahead if you'd like.

warnings: none. domestic fluff. megumi is your son :) also please excuse my oocness with him, I have yet to grow accustomed to writing him 🥺

happy reading!

The bedroom door quietly creeks open, followed by the sound of quick, pitter-patters making their way to your side.

And then, after a few seconds of apparent reluctance, a gentle nudge on your shoulder finally wakes you up.

“Mom, mom.”

“Hm—hmm? What—what is it, sweetie?” you murmur, slowly blinking your eyes open and getting to see your favorite batch of unruly hair, alongside a cute, oh so adorable frowning face staring back at you. “Is everything alright, Gumi?”

“I can’t sleep.” He quietly confesses, gently clenching at your sleeve.

“Oh, that’s not good. What happened?” you lament. “Did you have a nightmare?”

Megumi nods.

“With the wolves?”

He nods once again.

“Can I sleep with you?”

You don’t bother asking him anything else, instead, you simply smile, carefully lifting your blanket and gesturing him to join you, which he does without hesitation soon after, your bed barely budging underneath his weight as Megumi accommodates himself between you and his father, who barely acknowledged his presence given the way he remained soundly asleep.

“Are you ok here?” you ask, pulling the blankets over the two and wrapping your arms around your baby—well, he’s hardly a baby anymore at his 6 years of age, but to you he’ll always be your baby.

“Yes.” Megumi responds, snuggling closer to you and sighing, already feeling his fears vanishing underneath your comforting warmth. “…goodnight, mom.”

“Goodnight, honey” you smile, giving him one quick kiss to the top of his head before closing your eyes and returning to your peaceful slumber…

…

…

…

Amidst Toji’s snores, which your child, poor little Megumi, was not accustomed to—waking up soon after the first round of beastly growls (his words) graced his ears.

“Hmm—! Mom!” Megumi groans, quick to cover his ears in hopes of easing silence, to no avail. “Mom!”

“What is it, Gumi? The same nightmare?” you murmur.

“No! It’s dad and his horrible snores!” he cries back. “How can you even sleep?!”

“Oh, that’s—” you giggle, causing your son to complain once again. “I just got used to it.”

An impossible endeavor that would have him reconsidering if his nightmares were all that bad to begin with, maybe he’d rather deal with them that his old man’s literal growls… unless he were to get a combination of the two.

Now that is a true nightmare.

But contrary to you, he’ll never get used to your and his father’s nightly dynamics, and the longer he goes on awake because of the latter, the grumpier and decisive Megumi becomes.

It’s not Toji’s fault that he has the tendency to reach out for you when asleep, drape his arm over you as if to check you were still there, perhaps afraid that he’d wake up and you’d be gone—but to an exasperated Megumi that was just the needed excuse for his patience to reach his limit, quickly pushing himself off your embrace and towards his father, a prominent scowl on his face as he waits for him to give him another reason.

Just one more snore and then, he smacks him! A sound so loud that it makes you jolt fully awake and instinctively looking over to your son, primarily worried that he might’ve unwittingly hurt himself, before realizing Toji was the one in danger after all. Yes, someone as robust  as your husband could still fall victim to Gumi’s punch; hence the laughter you’re trying so hard to hold back.

“Huh—what?” Toji breathes, half awake, half asleep, but completely in pain. “What was that??”

“Shut up!” He cries back, attempting to hit him again; luckily Toji’s reflexes were quick to kick in, saving himself from another humiliating endeavor. “You’re too loud, I can’t sleep!”

“When did you get here?” Toji asks, holding onto Megumi’s wrist and keeping him from afflicting him again.

“Our little blessing had a nightmare.” You begin to explain, placing your hand over Toji’s grasp and releasing your son. “And wanted to sleep with us, that’s all.”

“Did he?” Toji smirks. “What’s it about? That he smiled for the first time in his life?”

“Toji…”

“What?” He laughs. “You know I’m just teasing.”

“I didn’t want to sleep with you dad, I only wanted mom!” Megumi declares, ready to go back to his rightful place, until Toji decides he’s not gotten enough of making fun of his child, quickly encaging him within his arms and keeping him away from you. “No, you—Mom!”

“Oh, too good for your old man, now?”

“Toji!” you gasp amidst giggles. “Leave our son alone, or we’ll leave!”

“You wouldn’t dare.” Toji responds.

“Try me.”

It’s a mystery how Megumi fell asleep, probably relented himself to his situation and just gave up, but the sight that welcomes him that morning is one that Toji has him smiling: you, cuddled up with his 6-year-old son underneath the warm blankets he hates to leave but must do so because of work.

All to give you the life both deserve; one he never thought he’d be gratuitously given—unless it was with you. Only if it was with you.

Time certainly passes by so quickly, to believe that he once believed himself deserving of nothing but loneliness, he now has this:

A wife that loves him unconditionally, wholly, with all his scars and fears…

And a son that only grows bigger and snarkier each passing day. The similarities between the two are uncanny to say the least, but when he finds you in him, he can’t help but smile. It makes his heart… warm.

For the first time in his life, he looks forward to what the future holds.

[bandgie]

Kissing on New Years - SKZ OT8

Little drabbles of how I think skz would kiss reader during New Years! and yes MDNI18+ as always. no warnings idc to put any. happy New Years!!!! (divider from @/strangergraphics)

CHAN!

"Babe! Come on! You're going to miss it!" You looked to see your boyfriend with his headphones on, typing away at the computer. He didn't hear you, and though you know better than to disturb his work, this is an emergency. You run over to him, 10 seconds on the clock. You can hear the people from the television counting down. You and Chan didn't have the opportunity to travel for the New Year, but you don't mind missing out on New York. You're with Chris. That's what matters. Seven seconds. You rip the headphones off, not surprised to hear him let out a sound of surprise and turn to you. "What!" You tuck the headphones into your chest and grin, jumping excitedly on your feet. Chan stands and looks confused, but he soon hears the chanting on the TV. Five! Four!... "No way! I thought it was-" "Just kiss me!" One! It's rushed. The clank of teeth makes you wince, but you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him deeper. He smiles against your eager lips, wrapping his arms around your torso and lifting you off the ground. When you pull away, the sounds of firecrackers sound on the TV and you're sure can hear you neighbors shouting with joy. "Happy New Year, baby." "You almost missed it." "N-I didn't though!"

MINHO!

"Should I wake up the cats?" Minho stares at his sleeping, feline brothers. "I don't want them to miss it." You wrap your arms from behind, peeking from the side of his shoulder. "I dunno. They look kinda cute like that." Your lover hums in agreement, turning around so you're hugging him properly instead. "I think you're right." The two of you giggle before you hear clatter in the living room. "Kids! You're gonna miss it!" You can hear his mom. "We got only seconds left!" Seconds!? You and Minho share a look before rushing to the living room. His parents are already standing and holding each other with their gaze on the TV. They've got matching sweaters on and noise makers in their hands. You have a quick vision of how you and Minho will be when you're older. "Mom! I thought you said we had five minutes!" "No! Five seconds!" It's all so quick. The playful arguing from Minho and his mom to his dad trying to get his wife's attention. You can't even intervene before the clock strikes midnight and the television erupts in cheers. Happy New Years! It's like a switch in Minho. His banter stops and suddenly, you're the only person in the room. "Happy New Years." His voice is so quiet, like a secret only between the two of you. You whisper back and kiss him, but only quickly. It's still enough to feel the softness of his lips and to feel his smile. His parents laugh with joy, making you two pull away. "So when are you gonna get down on one knee, Jagiya?!"

CHANGBIN!

He's wearing those 2025 glasses. His big eyes peer right into yours, curls sticking to his forehead in a way that makes him a million times are sexy. You want to be mad, but you can't even pretend, "You ruined it!" Changbin's beautiful eyes widen. "You- I- How did you expect me to last that long!?" You have to keep from laughing. All of it was your idea anyway. You thought it would be funny to enter the New Year with Changbin shooting cum, but he couldn't last enough. Now you two are playfully arguing in the backyard with seconds left in 2024. "And-and it's cold! And we're outside!" "In the backyard!" You open your arms to display the scenery. "No one was gonna see me edge you!" Changbin shushes you. "S-stop being so loud!" You want to shout even louder just to see him panic, but you hear the booms of firecrackers. You're lucky that Changbin's place isn't too far from the Han River. You two watch as the stream of smoke bolts in the sky, and in just two seconds of delay, it explodes into colors with a loud boom! "Oh my god!" Changbin points in the sky. "Look! Look! Look!" You are looking, but at something so much brighter than any firecracker. More go off. They light up the dark sky beautifully, but the way the colors dance on Changbin's face is incomparable. You smile, "Happy New Years, Binnie." Changbin turns to you, already smiling and opening his strong arms. "Mhm. Another year with my love. Come here." And you do, and when you kiss, you think it's sweet. It's softer than usual, wetter almost. But you like the warmth you two create in the chilly night. Changbin pulls away, eyes wide. "Oh. I forgot I came in your mouth." Oh, that's why it feels like that. "You don't wanna kiss me?" "I never said that."

HYUNJIN!

There's so many people. Too many people. Times Square was always packed when you watched it on TV, but being here, you didn't really understand how bad it gets. Hyunjin's holding onto you tight. People are shoving, trying to get closer to the Ball that will drop in seconds. People are shouting, screaming, crying, and you're trying to wrap your arms around Hyunjin's neck. "This sucks." Hyunjin mumbles so they don't hear him, but you don't think they could even if he shouted it. You want him to have a good time despite you feeling the same, so you manage to smile up at him. "We're in New York, babe. Don't act too surprised." He grins at you, then looks up to the Ball. "Look." You turn and see the giant clock ticking down. 3...2...1 HAPPY NEW YEAR And despite the massive crowd and ear-bleeding screams, you're right you want to be. Hyunjin grips your chin, forcing you to look at his beautiful face. You've always though your lover was ethereal. His nose curved cutely at the tip and his jaw was so strong, but the juxtaposition made it work perfectly. And his lips sit lovely on his face, shiny from the way he was swiping his tongue over him. Neither of you speak a word, but the deep look into each other eye's says it all. He leans down gently, placing his lips on yours like there aren't a million other couples doing the same. And he's so warm. So endearing on your mouth that tears prick your eyes. You glide against his lips, easily slipping your tongue out so he can suck it into his mouth. He groans at your taste, hands digging deeper into your waist possessively. You lean back more, letting his own tongue invade your mouth and swipe gently against yours. Your hands travel to his buzzed hair, feeling the smoothness against your fingertips. Yeah. There's nowhere else you'd rather be.

HAN!

"Where's my baby! Where's my baby?!" He's screaming for you. Everyone at the party looks in his direction, confused and slightly worried. You rush to Han's side. You told him you were going to get a drink, but you underestimated how close midnight was and how drunk your lover is. "Oh my- I'm so sorry." You sheepishly look at the people trying to make room for you. "He's drunk and- Han! I'm right here!" His eyes are crossed and unfocused, but once he sees you, it's like he sobers for a second. Only a second. "Clock. 3-2-1." He points to a wall that does not have a clock. "Happy New Year?" You're stuck between laughing and crying. Chan told you he would keep an eye on Han while you refilled your cup, but once the girls starting rolling in, he had other plans in mind. "Yes, Han. Like, 10 more seconds." You're grabbing onto him for safety reasons. Your arm is looped with his, grabbing onto his jacket to act a leash in case he decides to stray away. Yet, it seems like all of that is unnecessary since he's putting all his weight on you. "Love you sooo much. You're my baby, you know that? Like forever." You're opening your mouth to tell him, yes you know, and that he should probably get some fresh air, but the party erupts in cheers and screams. No fucking way. Han's eyes widen. He's thinking the same thing. "We-we missed it!" You see his eyes get wet. "I-I can't kiss you until next year." Why did you have to fall for an idiot? "Yes you can. It's been like, two seconds." He's still pouting. "But...But I wanted-" You reach on your tippytoes and pull him down, cutting his words off with a kiss. Han muffles against you for a moment. As if it takes time for his brain to register that you're kissing. When it does, he swoons. His arms wrap around your neck and he leans further down, uncaring how his tongue messily licks onto your lips. The booze settles on your tastebuds immediately. You're not one for beer breath, but Han's taste and your own buzz makes it pleasant. He looses his balance quickly with his eyes closed. You have to plant your feet steady on the ground to keep the two of you up. You push him away by the shoulders and when you think you'll see confusion on his face, you see utter bliss instead. "Oh hell no." You know better than to fall for his sultry eyes and biting lip. "We're going home."

FELIX!

He's ready. Felix has been sat on the couch, staring at the TV for half an hour. He even set alarms to make sure neither of you miss when the clock strikes midnight. You're in the kitchen, cutting yourself a piece of his infamous brownie when another alarm rings. You try not to groan. "Felix, I really don't think you need-" "It's the last one! One minute, baby! Oh shit, I have to record this." You emerge from the kitchen to see him fumbling with the phone, shutting off the alarm and opening his camera app. He points the lens at you, dark hair peeking from above. "Any last words before the New Year?" You slow your steps, pursing your lips in thought. "Mmm... Fuck." Felix giggles. He puts the down a few inches to look at you directly. "I can't post that on TikTok." You laugh, finally making your way to the couch and setting the goodies on the center table. Felix follows right behind you, still clacking on his phone until you hear it shut off. Lithe arms wrap around your waist, turning you until you're faced to Felix. His dark hair falls over his eyes innocently with an adorable smile on his face. He looks unbelievably content celebrating New Years in your tiny apartment. Guilt twist in your heart. You want to apologize, but dozens of alarms go off before you can open your mouth. Felix's smile widens. "Happy New Year!" You laugh, both annoyed and amused at the alarms that play horribly in-sync. Felix chuckles only for a moment before tilting his head down, catching you off guard. His lips are gentle. You don't think you've felt him kiss you this softly in months, but you welcome it all. His lips barely contact yours and you eagerly push forward. He smiles against you, molding his mouth onto yours how you want. You pull away only to kiss at a different angle, holding his bottom lip longer than you're supposed to before letting it go and doing it again. Felix groans a little. His small hands bunch your shirt, pulling you closer. He looks devastated when you pull away. You shake your head, lips wet and tingling. "I can't stand these alarms. I think I'm going crazy."

SEUNGMIN!

It's really hard to keep your hands to yourself, and not in a sexual sense. He just looks so good. His hair is done up, pushed back to show his forehead with a white, puffy jacket over him. You can see every breath he exhales, every beautiful strand of hair under the moonlight, and how Seungmin wrinkles his nose every time he hears the loud chatter of people. "Sorry." He rubs his hand over yours, intertwining your fingers and finally letting you get a feel of his skin in this cold night. "This was the only spot I could find." Seungmin spent weeks looking for a secluded spot on the Han River. There's some passbyers, some children running with kites flying high in the sky, and the smell of baked goods not too far. The two of you sit on a blanket, a basket of fruits and drinks beside you. You lean on his shoulder, using your other hands to place it on his knee. "It's perfect. Thank you, baby." He turns to look at you, tilting his head and smiling like you're a million stars. You glance to his lips, already leaning forward and closing your eyes. You think you're going to feel his mouth, but you feel the palm of his hand instead. "Not yet." Not yet?? "But...but I want to kiss you now." Seungmin grins wider, teeth shinning and cutely scrunching his nose. "The new year is almost here. Just wait." You throw your head back dramatically, tugging on his fingers impatiently. "Noooo. Now." 10! You can hear the people nearby counting down in unison. 9! 8! 7! You straighten back up, looking wide-eyed at your boyfriend who's been looking at you the entire time. Seungmin leans in only to touch your nose with his. He's so infuriating. You try to sneak a peck in. Your pursed lips are met with air from Seungmin's quick reaction. He laughs and you don't understand how he can. The last few seconds feel tortuous. A whine is builds in your throat, but the screams and cheers make you stop. HAPPY NEW YEAR! You tackle Seungmin onto the grass. He goes down with a yelp and grabs your hips, bringing you with him. He can't even look confused before your lips are on him, kissing his lips repeatedly so the gentle smacks echo quietly between you two. And the sound is drowned out by the fireworks. You're sure they look pretty, bright and colorful dancing in the night sky, but Seungmin's lips are better than any gunpowder. He laughs in your mouth, mumbling about how he wants to see the firecrackers and that the grass is wet, but he holds onto you tighter and kisses you deeper. His head tilts, his mouth opens and you get a taste of how eager he had being wanting to kiss you too. Seungmin was just better at controlling himself. He has to be the one to pull away, lips plump and wet with spit. His face is flushed and you can see how hard he's breathing. "I love you. So much." Your hands plant on the grass besides him, and sure enough, it is wet. The muddy texture is hardly for concern when you lean down again, pecking his lips, nose and eyes. "I love you too. Happy New Years." "Happy New Years. Um..." His eyes look panicked when you look at his face. "I think there's a worm in my ear."

JEONGIN!

The drinks were supposed to loosen everyone up for the night. Han gets anxious in big crowds, Chan constantly feels the need to keep an eye on everyone, Felix just enjoys fruity drinks, and the rest are pretty much down to drink at any given time. But Jeongin? Jeongin gets hot. The clothes on his skin feels too tight and the dress on yours definitely is. He was already on you when you walked into Hyunjin's apartment, but the moment the jungle juice was half-way gone, he was asking to finger you in the corner of the room. Which brings you to now. The feel of his soft hair between your legs with his even softer tongue on your folds. The thudding of music and hollers vibrate through the wall, all the way to the second floor where Jeongin has you. You're not quiet, you never can be when his expert tongue runs over you. But with the loudness from the first-floor, you don't find any reason to lower your voice. You thought he wanted a quickie. A fast tug on the side of your underwear and the unbuckling of his belt, but Jeongin lead you to the bedroom rather than the bathroom and lifted your dress high. The material is bunched at your mid, breasts free and legs open. His long fingers peak at your nipples, twisting and pulling until your moans turn into squeals. And his tongue keeps digging into you. Thrusting itself in and out before swiping your arousal over your clit. Jeongin can feel your hips thrust every time he does it, so he stays sucking on your sensitive bud until you wrap your thighs around his neck. He groans, loving how your smell swallows him whole. Jeongin bruies his face deeper until his nose bumps your clit, swiping his tongue lower to collect your juices. You know you're cutting off his air circulation, but neither of you seem to care. Jeongin seemed perfectly happy with the possibility of his death being between your legs, and you seem okay burying him there. A harsh pinch to your nipple makes you cry. You lift your head and widen your legs just a bit, hearing him deeply inhale before sticking his tongue out again. " 'm so sensitive, Jeong. You're gonna make me cum again." Jeongin opens his eyes. You love the wild look in them. How they look stuck between desire and chaos. You've always loved the slenderness of them. Even now, wide, blown-out, and almost terrifying, it makes you drip onto the sheets. On a bed that isn't even yours. He moans, nodding and unable to say anything. He never speaks when he eats you out. Your taste is all too consuming. They're getting louder below, shouting and screaming so violently that you can barely make out what they're saying. Jeongin is the one the make it out first. He pops off your pussy quickly, a loud smack resonating in the room. You moan in loss, closing your legs in overstimulating and panting. The room quickly quiets from your lack of whining, but at least you can hear your friends below. Happy New Year! No way. No fucking way. How could you forget the whole reason you two went to Hyunjin's place? Jeongin runs a hand through his hair, face shinning in your wetness. "He's gonna be pissed." Hyunjin? "B-because we're on his bed? I'll wash the sheets and-" "No! Hyunjin asked me to be his New Years kiss and I said yes and- fuck! Why did I say that?!" You can't even laugh. Pleasure is still drumming in your veins and your half naked. "Wha-" "JEONGIN?? AYEN-AH?? JAGIYA?!" Now you laugh, but it's mixed with panic. Jeongin is lifting you off the bed and trying to make you look decent, but the drunken limbs are hardly any help. "Well, guess you're gonna have to tell Hyunjin your New Years kiss was to my pussy instead."

[hanniebaeee]

Under the Northern Lights

Hyunjin x fem!reader

Warnings: SMUT MDNI

Genre: established relationship, fluff, smut

Summary: You and Hyunjin witness the Northern Lights for the first time ever, and the magical moment turns into a rather heated one!

a/n: It's my dream to explore Iceland and to witness the northern lights! Till I get there, let's just do it with Jinnie here 🤭

It was warm, so warm. Hyunjin's arm was wrapped around your waist and his leg thrown over yours as he slept. His soft snores filled the quiet room, his breath fanning the back of your neck.

You two have had a busy day exploring a beautiful snowy village in Iceland. Hyunjin could barely move when you two got back - he'd had about enough of being on his feet for the day, and fell asleep almost immediately.

You’d been just as exhausted as him, but you'd woken up late at night after he managed to kick off the blankets as usual.

Your eyes cracked open, heavy-lidded and annoyed as you reached for the blanket. But then something else caught your attention. Outside the window.

"Ohh -" You sat upright, and Hyunjin jerked in his sleep grumbling something incoherent and burying his face in the pillow.

"Hyunjin! Get up!" You shook his shoulder, disturbing his slumber.

"Babe, I swear if this isn’t an emergency -”

"Just look!"

He groaned, peeling his eyes open (dramatically). The second he caught sight of the faint green glow outside, he shot upright, his mouth falling open.

"Is that...?"

"The northern lights!"

You were already hopping out of bed and fumbling for your coat. But Hyunjin was still blinking sleepily as you threw his jacket at him.

"Babe, it's soooo cold outside," he whined, dragging himself out of bed. "And I was having a really good dream…you were there, and chocolate, actually you in chocolate-"

"Oh my God Jinnie!! We made this trip to see exactly this, and you're stuck on your horny dreams!!"

"Horny dreams!?" He sounded offended, but his expression softened as he glanced at the lights swirling in the sky. "Okay, yeah, alright. Pants, pants... where are my pants?"

He got his pants to his face, of course.

After what felt like an eternity of fumbling, and a few swats to his butt ("Wear the pants, Jinnie!"), the two of you stumbled out into the cold night, boots crunching on the snow as the aurora borealis painted the skies above.

Hyunjin pulled you close as you both stared up, your breaths mingling in the chilly air.

"Wow," he murmured, his voice shaking with the cold.

"It's beautiful," you whispered, your heart swelling with happiness as you tilted your head back to take it all in.

"Okay, you were right to wake me up. But also, you’re totally making up for it later."

"Making up for what? Giving you the most magical moment of your life?"

"No, for interrupting my sleep. And my chocolate dream." He grinned down at you. "And not to be cheesy or anything, but the most magical moment of my life was the day you said yes. So yeah."

"Stop it." You laughed, and he pulled you closer, his nose brushing against yours.

“I love you, baby. I love it that we're doing this together,” He said, and before you could say anything, he kissed you - both your lips cold and a little numb.

And the way he sneaked his tongue into your mouth made your stomach flip. The lights danced above, but all you could feel was him - his warmth and the way he held you like you were the most precious thing in the world.

And then he pulled his phone out, because obviously you needed to record this moment. And a frozen photo shoot later, you both trudged back inside, in a hurry to get away from the chill.

Hyunjin was already peeling off his layers the second the door closed behind you. He chucked his coat with a dramatic groan, running his hands through his short blond buzz cut.

He went on to take a look at the fireplace (an electric one unfortunately), and then got on the bed, holding his hand out.

"Alright, babe," he drawled. "Since you ruined my dream, I think it’s only fair we finish what I started in my head."

He grinned as he pulled you onto his lap.

You rolled your eyes, but you really loved it when he was this horny and lovesick. With a smile you cupped his cheeks in your hands and kissed him. His hands slid beneath your sweater, palms warm against your ribs as he kissed you like he’d been starving for days.

His hands moved up, cupping your breasts over your bra, and his thumbs ran over your hard nipples, perked up.

"Fuck baby," he murmured against your lips, his breath hot as his hands squeezed your breasts. "You cold?"

"More like really hot" you gasped, your hands sliding over the blond fuzz on his head and your nails scraping his scalp.

"Mhm," he managed, his lips trailing down your jaw, his teeth grazing your skin all the way to your collarbone. "You looked so hot all bundled up, and now…”

His nibbled on your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. He pulled back enough to pull your sweater over your head and tossed it aside, before finding the waistband of your leggings, tugging them down as his lips were on yours again.

"Jinnie," you whispered, your voice trembling as his hands worked on getting rid of the rest of your clothes.

You watched him undress as the northern lights danced outside, casting a faint glow through the window. You couldn’t help but think how beautiful he looked as he leaned in and his lips grazed the side of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine.

Hyunjin’s kisses were hot and demanding, his lips urging you to respond with the same intensity. And you could feel his hardness press against you, and it made your heart race even faster.

He kissed his way down, his lips hovering over chest, eyes locked with yours before his tongue peeked out, placing a tiny lick on your nipple.

That was enough for your core to clench and with a little smirk he closed his lips on the little bud and sucked relentlessly, making you moan. Your hands gripped his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as he gave your other nipple the same attention.

And you glanced down to see them glistening with his spit.

“Hyunjin,” you gasped, your voice shaky as you pulled him closer. “Please.”

He grinned against your skin, the mischievous glint in his eyes never fading.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he muttered before lifting your hips slightly, and without any warning put his mouth directly on your wet folds.

Your body jerked with shock, and it didn't stop him from running his tongue over your dripping heat. You were falling apart under him, your body shaking as he licked and sucked on your puffy clit.

The sensation of his tongue inside you, and his soft hair against your inner thighs has your body quaking with need. And he kept going at it until finally with a quick flick of his tongue, you came undone, gushing into his mouth as he held you close.

He was painfully hard now, and the faint layer of sweat on his chest and forehead looked so damn enticing in the pale light. The look he gave you was raw and desperate, and you wasted no time pulling him close and kissing him.

Tasting yourself on his lips was seriously the most intimate, most satisfying thing ever. He moaned as you kissed his neck and bit down on the spot right below his jaw, making him grind down on you.

"Please baby," He whispered and shifted, positioning himself between your legs and you could feel his length prodding at your entrance.

Your eyes met again and you gave him a soft nod. He entered you slowly, pulling a soft moan from your lips as you both adjusted to the sensation, the feeling of being stretched open settling over you.

His movements were rhythmic, pushing you both to the edge and he kissed you, his hands gripping your hips as he drove deeper into you.

“Hyunjin…” you breathed, gasping for air as he made you feel every inch of him. He moved faster, harder, and you met each thrust with equal need, your body trembling.

“Fuck, I need you,” he groaned, his voice strained as he held you close, his eyes twinkling with love and lust.

You felt your release building, your breath hitching as you tipped over the edge and clenched around him tight. His movements were sloppier as he chased his own release, and he came with a groan, burying his face into your neck as he spilled inside you.

Breathing heavily, hand gently stroked your hair, his lips brushing your forehead as you both recovered.

“I love you,” he whispered, his voice soft.

“I love you too,” you replied, pressing a soft kiss on his chest.

As the morning light seeped through the small window of your room, you knew that you two had overslept. The warmth of Hyunjin's body beside you was comforting, and you watched him with love before pressing a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth.

His eyes were still closed, but he smiled. A sweet sleepy one. And he looked so adorable (and a little too hot for his own good).

Your hand, almost of its own accord, slid down to where he was already hard and straining against his shorts. A spark of heat shot through you, as your palm cupped his length, putting on a little pressure.

You couldn’t resist teasing him, and Hyunjin opened his eyes slowly, his smile widening.

“What are you doing baby?” He mumbled and you didn't answer him, just moved down, pulling his shorts off him.

He was wide awake now, propped up on his elbows watching you as you stroked him gently.

“What did I do to deserve this?” He asked, his voice husky.

“You're you,” you whispered, and he groaned as your lips closed around his pink tip.

And yeah…you two didn't make it to the sight seeing tour you'd booked.

Divider by @saradika-graphics

Tags: @moonchild9350 @velvetmoonlght @eastjonowhere @pixie-felix @sailor--sun

[hitomisuzuya]

Wanted to request something to festive so I had an idea of having the first kiss of the new year with our love scummy scara. Not sure how to elaborate but I just needed to share ✨

scaramouche x fem!reader. kissing. very light smut. grinding. scummy scara. scara with a tongue piercing.

a little smutty cause it's scummy scara. bear with me, i still don't feel the best🥺

scaramouche looks at the clock for the uptenth time that night, restless with anticipation. it is very close to midnight on new year's eve.

to everyone else around the world, midnight meant the coming of a new year. but to him, midnight meant so much more.

it means starting off the new year in a best possible way: kissing you. kissing you would lead to other kisses, several kisses. deep, open mouth kisses. those kisses would lead to fingers tangled in hair, his mouth swallowing your soft moans while his tongue devours your mouth.

which in turn would lead to all kinds of little goodies for him. his hands wandering up your shirt and between your legs while he pins you down on the couch..

"it's almost midnight."

your voice drew scaramouche out of his thoughts. "hm," his hum was uninterested as he put his arm around you. everything has to be in place perfectly. he glanced at the clock again. three more minutes that were quite frankly dragging to him.

he rolls the ball of his tongue piercing around on the roof of his mouth in anticipation. could he distract you enough to get up and change the time on the clock himself? hmm...

"look, the ball is rising up to drop," you said as you rest your head on his chest.

"you wanna know that looks like to me?" scaramouche asked, glancing at the clock again. "people are dropping the ball on their year already," he snickered. what he meant by dropping the ball was fucking up.

"scara! it's supposed to be positive," you chide, though the smile on your face told him that you found what he said funny. look at you, sharing in his sense of humor while telling him what's what.

five, four..

scaramouche was delighted to see that the countdown has begun. "what? isn't it a positive thing for them to realize they are fucking up already?" he counters, curling his finger under your chin to tilt your head a little.

you sigh, giving him a look that said you couldn't really argue with him. though he knew you could.

three, two, one!

he is already leaning in to kiss you before one is even chanted. it didn't take long for his kiss to turn needy, pushing his pierced tongue giddily into your mouth. the ball of his tongue piercing grazes the roof of your mouth, making you shiver and moan softly into his mouth.

one hand wanders up your shirt, groping the soft, squishy flesh of your breast outside your bra. he tingle of excitement shot through him feeling you slightly move your chest into his hand. "happy new year," you murmur, pulling away to breathe for a few moments.

"mhm," his lips are back on yours again within moments. he wasn't interested in talking, the growing erection in jeans as his hand slips into your bra told him there are other important things right now.

his kiss is deep, open mouthed and sensual. his tongues glides against yours, devouring your mouth as he wrestled your tongue into oh so willing submission. you whimper at the sudden pleasure of your nipple rolling and hardening under the pads of his fingers.

he groans as you reach down to cup and rub his cock outside his jeans. rutting into your hand, he pinched your nipple before pushing you down onto the couch. your moans are the first music of the new year to his ears.

his teeth nip at your lips as he spreads your legs, slotting himself between them. "these are in the way," he sighed, frustrated as he ruts between your legs. goosebumps rose in the wake of his fingers on skin as he pushed your shirt up over your bra.

scaramouche hastily moved the cups of your bra down off your breasts, feasting his eyes on them before moving his head down to flick the ball of his tongue piercing around your nipple.

kisses always led to other things. he always, always counted on that. whether it was right here on the couch downstairs, or upstairs in his bed, he was going to ruin you. starting with a kiss.

[finelinevogue]

Hi 🤗 Fluff request! A lazy Sunday in the life of Harry and the reader. Everyone knows Harry Styles, the superstar, but if people could see how Harry and the reader spend a day at home, they would not only love him even more but truly see that Harry is a homebody who loves to spend time with his loved ones.

hiii!! i LOVE a fluff request thank you so much <33 hope this is okay!

word count - ~1.2k

🍯*💛*🍯*💛*🍯*💛*🍯*💛*🍯*💛*🍯*💛* 🍯

The headline read: Harry Styles - Hate To Love Him

Often the tabloids were cruel, but no one had yet published an article with all the reasons not to like Harry - until last night.

Harry had caught sight of the headline whilst you’d been watching a movie together on the sofa. Instead of hiding it and how he felt about it from you, he instantly showed it to you.

The night had ended with soft tears from Harry and a whole lot of loving from you.

You watched Harry sleep.

You two had ended up sleeping on the sofa, having not bothered to move when you were already both so comfortable.

Harry had drawn a blanket over your bodies and your body heats had done the rest. You were snuggled against Harry’s chest with your legs entangled with his. Your body rose as he breathed in - the rhythmic motion enough to lull you back to sleep.

His bare chest smelt so comforting with the remanence of his cologne still sticking to him.

Your finger drew soft shapes against the outlines of his tattoos, watching his chest breathe in and out. It was comforting knowing he was sleeping peacefully, especially after such a horrible evening.

It was cruel that people created up bullshit narratives just so they can earn their pay-check. Why bring others down so much? Didn’t they feel the slightest bit of guilt?

“Harry.” You whispered.

The sun was shining through the curtains telling you it was way past the point of waking up.

Sometimes you both needed a morning in like this though. Some extra time to share between you both. Harry always needed a little extra love after having a rough time with the tabloids. They got him so down that sometimes he couldn’t see a positive way out. Luckily with you the darkness always seemed a little lighter.

“Mm.” Harry made a noise, sounding really gravely as he awoke.

You could tell he was rousing as his arm tightened around your waist, his fingers splaying out over the skin of your back.

“Harry, love.” You cooed.

“Mhm.” He acknowledged you with no words.

“Good morning.”

“Mhm.”

“Can’t find your words this morning, handsome?” You teased, sneaking your hand from his chest and up to his cheek. You brushed some of his floppy curls out of his eyes and cupped your cheek over his morning stubble.

Harry’s eyes opened then, peering down his body to find your face. His triple chin made you smirk as he looked at you.

He flopped his head back down when he had taken in his surroundings, his arm still holding you close.

“How are you feeling?” You asked.

“Eh.” He grumbled, his morning voice turning you on slightly. What? He sounded too good in a morning not to love on it.

“If only I spoke caveman.” You sighed in jest.

Harry’s chest rapidly moved up and down then as he chuckled.

It felt good to see him smile. Extra bonus points because you were the one that put that smile there.

You untangled yourself from his chest, your hair no doubt looking a mess, and pushed yourself up so you could see Harry better. Not that his chest was an unwanted sight, but you wanted to look at him now to really gauge how he’s feeling.

“No.” Harry whined, his arm clamping around you. He must’ve thought you were leaving him, but that was honestly the last thought on your mind.

You fell down on him slightly, his face burrowing in the comfort of your neck. Harry always said that was his safe place, because he could be physically close to you as well as feeling close to you.

“Ahh so you do know words.”

“Piss off.” He mumbled into your neck, breathing in a deeper breath as you assumed he was trying to smell you. He often claimed you were the best smell in the world - whatever that meant.

You let him stay hidden in your neck.

It allowed you to play with his hair - twisting curls around your fingers.

“Want to do anything today?”

“Like…?”

“I don’t know. Cinema? Walk in the park? Ooh - I need to go buy some more milk, we used it all when we made cookies the other night.”

“Can we go to the shop by Harrow Park?” He asked.

You comfortingly scratched the back of his neck the way he liked. Your nails weren��t even that long, but Harry just loved the feeling. It was something he’d never felt close enough with previous partners to let them do, so it of course made it all the more special for you to do.

“Yeah, sure. We can pop in to Jake’s on the way. He still has our casserole dish.”

“Why’d you give him that?” Harry grumbled - yes he was clearly in a grotty mood today, but you liked being the one to coax him out of it.

“That’s what friends do, H.”

“I bought you that dish.”

“And sharing is caring. Don’t be such a grump.”

“M’sorry.” He sighed, leaving the comfort of your neck to look at you.

His head laid down on the pillow, some of his curls fanning on the pillow beneath him.

You held yourself up so you could perch just above him, allowing you to still caress his neck whilst being held up by his arm.

“You look tired, m’love.” You said.

Harry kept his eyes on yours and you could see the pools of sadness in them from last night. Each time someone said something bad about him, it chipped a little bit away from his soul. It was your job to remind him that he was better than them - that he was stronger than he thought and to not let them win.

“I slept well.” He admitted.

“So did I.” You smiled.

“Couch sleeps are always better than the bed.”

“Yeah?”

“Whenever I’m closest to you, that’s when I sleep best.” He nodded.

“Me too.” You smiled, leaning down to give him the softest of kisses. Sometimes you couldn’t believe you were lucky enough to have him this way.

You pulled back with much regret, but you also loved seeing the dazed look on his face whenever he kissed you. His cheeks always reddened slightly, eyes crinkled with a smile and his nose slightly scrunched.

He clearly didn’t want you parting from him though, because his hand cupped the back of your neck and quickly pulled you back to him for a heartier kiss. He used his hand to pull you fully into him, allowing him to move and kiss you the way he wanted.

He pulled you away slightly, but left you close enough so your noses were softly touching.

“I love you.” He said.

“That’s nice to know.” You dismissed him, trying to lean back down to kiss him but he was quick to stop you.

“Hey, say it back.”

“You know I do.”

“Do what?” He raised an eyebrow in mischief.

You rolled your tongue across your teeth and pretend to look unimpressed, but in reality having him joke around like this was a good thing - it meant he was slowly getting over last nights torment and bringing himself back to the light.

He would argue you that you were the sole reason for that, but he doesn’t give himself enough credit.

You were proud of him for slowly allowing himself to get over those horrible tabloids, which is why you rewarded him.

“I love you too.”

“You do?”

“Pretty sure.” You giggled.

“Mm, I’m pretty sure too.”

[cognitiveoverload]

New Year’s Day (Aaron Hotchner x reader)

summary: On the first morning of the new year, Aaron admits that he has a New Year’s resolution.

tags: Established relationship.

It’s barely eight when you wake up. On any other day, you would say you managed to sleep in, but today is different, today you can say it’s quite early to wake up considering you went to sleep some time after three in the morning. As you walk down the stairs, you keep stumbling upon evidence of the night before, from polaroid pictures to patches of confetti, and you can’t help but smile when you remember the best moments of the night.

This year Aaron decided to invite the team for a New Year’s Eve celebration, giving Dave the opportunity to be a guest instead of his usual role as a host. The house was crowded as everyone could bring a significant other if they had one, while JJ and Will brought Henry too, so Jack wasn’t bored to death either.

On your way to the kitchen, you pick up the photos, but you don’t have a look at them before you brew yourself a cup of coffee to fully wake up. As you wait for the espresso machine, you yawn and rub your eyes with the heel of your palm, hoping by some miracle your sleepiness would disappear. You could have stayed in bed with your boyfriend, but the thought of caffeine lured you downstairs.

With the steaming mug in your hand, you decide to sit on the floor in the living room, with your back against the couch as you finally take a look at the polaroids in your hand. Everyone was so happy, and each and every one of your guests had big, wide smiles on the pictures, sometimes making silly faces or hand gestures too. The love they all have for each other is evident, and you can’t help but smile at the sight.

“Why aren’t you sleeping?”

You turn your head to see Aaron approaching with a small smile on his lips. His hair is a mess from sleep, the white t-shirt wrinkled after the night, and the dark blue pajama pants are probably hanging a little lower than usual. You strangely love your boyfriend the most in the first ten minutes after waking up, when the filter between his brain and mouth doesn’t work properly, so you can usually expect some of the sweetest nonsense he can come up with.

He leans down to kiss the crown of your head, and you look up at him with a smile that matches his. “I could be asking you the same thing,” you point out.

“You weren’t next to me,” he states without hesitation. “You know I have trouble sleeping when you’re not there.”

His eyes move to the photos in your hand, but instead of asking you about them, he sits next to you and takes the mug from your hand to drink some of your coffee. You lean your head on his shoulder as you once again go through the pictures, this time holding them in a way that he can see them too. When you reach one of Jack and him, he takes it from you and watches it with a loving smile.

Sometimes he doubts himself, believing he’s not good enough for his son, but there are times like this too, when he’s reminded of how much Jack loves him. You obviously prefer these moments, and you can’t help but place a kiss on his shoulder before resting your chin on it. “He looks so happy,” you tell him quietly, to which he responds with a hum of agreement.

The two of you sit there a little longer, enjoying the quiet morning. He’s holding your hand, occasionally taking your mug to drink even more of your coffee, but you don’t mind, because these are those moments that you cherish the most. These times you can feel how much he loves you. It’s not that he never shows how he feels about you, it’s just more domestic, making you feel like you were a real family.

“You know, I have a New Year’s resolution,” he begins, turning to you with a mischievous smirk. When you give him a questioning look, he takes a deep breath. “I want to marry you this year.”

It’s quite shocking to hear him say these words so nonchalantly, as if it was a topic you have discussed several times already. But you have never talked about marriage, you didn’t think he would want to take your relationship to this level. “Where did that come from?” you wonder out loud.

Aaron raises your hand to his mouth, taking his time to answer. But then he takes the mug from you, and puts it on the floor next to himself. “It’s nothing new, I just wasn’t sure if you wanted this. I mean, we’re good together, you stay here a lot, but something was always missing. And then I realized this something was you moving in and becoming a real member of this family. Marriage… it’s just a step I want to take with you to make sure you don’t go anywhere,” he says with a smile.

You giggle before leaning closer to give him a quick kiss. “Good to know.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Ask me, then you’ll see,” you tease him.

Rolling his eyes, he wraps an arm around your shoulder to pull you closer. “You’re mean,” he points out. Before he could say anything else, you hear the wooden steps creak, a clear sign that his son woke up as well. “Morning, Jack,” Aaron calls out, raising his hand to wave to his son, signaling him so he knows where to find the two of you.

“Good morning,” the boy says as he sits next to his father and curls up against his side.

With a loving smile, he puts his arm around his son, then you both listen to the little boy telling you about how much fun he had last night, and how you should let him stay awake this long more often. Aaron lets out a thoughtful hum as he watches the kid. “You can stay awake past midnight on your birthday. How does that sound?”

Jack furrows his brows as he considers the offer. “Can the others come over again?” The answer is a nod. “Okay.”

Your boyfriend ruffles his son’s hair briefly before he leans over to you. “He can also stay awake on the night of our engagement party,” he informs you. When you give him a displeased look that he brought it up in front of Jack, he decides to speak up again. “Hey, I’ll ask you when you least expect it.”

And you know he’s telling the truth. You definitely won’t see it coming.