#Dancing with the Moonlight Tour | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cloudtransprncy · 10 months ago

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"One Night Only"

Word count: 11210 Jennie x Male reader

Consequence – That word reverberates through my mind, echoing off the plush walls of this hotel suite. Each decision, every whisper of action, carries its own shadow, trailing behind it. I know this, deep in my bones. Yet, life, in its fleeting dance, seems to mock the very notion of permanence. The only certainty we hold is the silent, inexorable march towards an end we'd rather not face. We push it aside, cloak it in disbelief. Life, in its relentless stride, continues until reality, unbidden, jolts us awake. So, we find refuge in the fleeting – in the amber embrace of liquor, the smoky tendrils of a cigarette, the heady rush of desire. For a night, just this night, we silence the whispers of tomorrow.

Jennie's breath, a ragged symphony, plays against my lips. Our kiss, a dance of longing, tastes of sweet cherries laced our sharp kiss. Her fingers, entwined in my hair, pull us closer, our bodies becoming one in the moon's silver gaze.

Commitment – that once-venerated word now feels like a stranger's tongue. The thought of being tethered, bound by invisible threads of promises stretching across a lifetime, seemed more a prison than a haven. I've always been a creature of flight, a heart unmoored. Maybe that's why she drifted away – a preemptive strike against a future steeped in resentment. In protecting us from the chains of unfulfilled promises, did I sever the only tie that mattered?

Her skin, a canvas of warmth under my fingertips, ignites a trail of desire. As I explore the landscape of her body, each curve, each hidden valley, I lose myself to the moment. Her whisper, a confession in the dark, "I've missed this," binds me tighter than any vow.

Beyond the confines of this room, the city stretches out – a tapestry of steel and dreams under the night sky. Each light, a star in this man-made constellation, speaks of what could be. Once, as a child, I found solace in the stars, in the steady presence of Virgo among the celestial sea. Jennie, like that favored constellation, has always been the light I orbit, the gravity I cannot escape.

In the lunar glow, her face is a serene oasis, her breaths soft sonnets in the stillness. As I trace the lines of her neck, her back arches, a silent plea etched in moonlight. When our gazes lock, in that infinite moment, I see it – the reflection of myself, of us, in the depths of her eyes, a constellation not in the sky but right here, in this room.

She'll come. She always does.

In my mind's eye, I knew she was entwined with someone new, a high-profile actor whose name evades my memory. Insignificant, really, in the grand tapestry of our story. He's but one of many, a star in the vast firmament of an industry pulsing with life. His mark on the world may be noteworthy, but in her universe, he's merely a passing comet, fleeting and ephemeral.

We had drifted apart, yet fragments of our souls lingered, delicately preserved within the vases of our hearts. Months had passed since our last encounter, since our fingers last brushed, our eyes last locked. Though a year had unfolded since our parting, the invisible threads that bound us remained unsevered. When she called, I became all ears; when I reached out, she was always there. Our souls, entwined through seasons of love, could not fully disentangle. She may have sought refuge in another's arms, yet a piece of her essence, like a sacred relic, remained eternally mine, as mine did hers.

The revelation of her presence in New York unfurled as I was poised to board my flight from Chicago to Toronto, the next chapter in my tour's melody. A spare day, a gift of time, whispered the possibility of a detour – a rendezvous in the city that never sleeps.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, bathing my suite in a golden haze, I reached out to her. The skyscrapers below sparkled like jewels under the twilight's caress as I dialed her number. She answered, a silence that spoke volumes, a canvas upon which our history was painted. Our conversations had become a dance, a playful chase of cat and mouse, with words unspoken yet understood.

"I'm in the city for one night," I murmured, the words hanging in the air like a promise, a temptation. Her silence lingered, a delicate pause on the other end, filled with the muted symphony of her world – the distant chatter of her entourage, the soft clicks of cameras capturing fleeting moments.

"I got a room for me and you," I continued, my voice a blend of hope and certainty. "This is for one night only." The details spilled out, coordinates to our secret haven, as the line hummed with the electricity of anticipation before falling silent. But my heart knew – she would be there, drawn to me as I to her, in this city of dreams and shadows.

A knock fractured the stillness of the midnight hour, a subtle intrusion into the suite where I stood, lost in thought. Above, the sky had donned its nightly regalia, stars scattered like diamonds on black velvet, while the moon – a coy dancer among the celestial array – cast a playful glow upon the city's silhouette. Clouds, thin as gossamer, shifted in the sky, their movements like silk curtains in a soft breeze, alternately veiling and revealing the moon's luminescence. The hour was ethereal, suspended between the remnants of the day and the possibilities of the night.

As I opened the door, she materialized before me – an enigmatic vision at the threshold. She stood there, robed in a chic, form-fitting black dress that gracefully embraced her figure, ending mid-thigh in a delicate declaration of allure. Encircling her legs were knee-high socks, culminating in a daring thigh garter – a subtle yet bold statement of her unique style. Her presence was a striking contrast to the muted opulence of the hotel suite.

Her hair, a cascade of dark, silken strands, framed her face in a perfect balance of elegance and wildness. It fell around her shoulders like the night itself had woven a mantle of shadows to adorn her. The dress clung to her form, outlining her slender arms and the gentle curves of her body, a testament to her poise and the understated power of her presence.

Her makeup was an artful composition, her eyes highlighted with a subtle precision that spoke of distant lands – a hint of an exotic narrative told in the language of beauty. It was understated yet impactful, enhancing her natural features with an artistry that suggested a story deeper than what the eye could see. Her lips, painted in a soft, natural hue, invited a second glance, a lingering focus.

As her gaze met mine, it was electric, a current of shared history and unspoken understanding passing between us. Her eyes, dark and inscrutable, held a depth that was both inviting and impenetrable. The air around her was perfumed with the rich scent of roses, intermingling with the sweet notes of her perfume, creating an aura that was at once intoxicating and comforting.

Her smile unfurled, a familiar softness that painted her features with an intimacy known only to those who had once shared everything. It was a grin that reached back through time, stirring a sea of memories within me.

"Hey," I found myself saying, my words emerging with a hint of a smirk, a reflex born of countless shared moments.

"Hey yourself," she echoed, her voice a melody laced with history. Her fingers, delicate yet assertive, found my chest, pressing gently, urging me backward into the realm we had once known so well. The sensation of her touch was like a key turning in a long-locked door, opening pathways to a past we had carefully navigated.

"It's been a while," her words floated through the air, a statement hanging between us, laden with unspoken narratives.

"Indeed it has," I replied, my voice a soft echo of our shared past. The click of the door sealing us within the suite marked a threshold crossed, a silent herald of a journey into realms both familiar and uncharted.

In that simple exchange, a current of anticipation began to build. The air between us became charged, a palpable tension that spoke of things unsaid, of paths once walked and now revisited. The weight of our history and the uncertainty of our present wove together, creating a tapestry rich with possibility and fraught with the complexity of our intertwined past.

In the soft, muted light of the suite, it didn't take long for our reunion to transform into an entwined embrace on the couch, a fusion of longing and familiarity. The kiss was a deluge of suppressed desires, a fervent torrent that left no room for ambiguity in our intentions. Her body against mine was a juxtaposition of the known and the novel, a comforting familiarity found on unfamiliar terrain. Our tongues, engaged in a private waltz, rediscovered a rhythm that pulsed with both nostalgia and excitement.

My hands roamed her form with an eager curiosity, tracing the familiar yet rediscovered contours of her body. The sensation of her skin under my fingertips was a tapestry of memories and new sensations, each touch reigniting a forgotten connection. The urgency in our movements was palpable, a frantic energy that surged against the sands of time since our last entwining. We were an orchestra of motion and sound, a harmonious blend of sighs and soft moans, a tempest of passion and need. The air around us was thick with the scent of our mingled perfumes, a heady aroma that enveloped us in a cocoon of intimacy.

She dug her fingers into my hair, pulling me closer with a forcefulness that stoked the flames of my arousal. The pressure of her lips on mine intensified, her tongue dancing with increasing urgency. A soft whimper escaped her throat, sending shivers of pleasure down my spine. Our tongues fought for dominance, fueled by the heat of our desires.

A sharp intake of breath escaped Jennie as my hands found their way, cupping the curves of her ass with a gentle firmness. The motion drew her closer still, eliminating any space that lingered between us. Through the thin fabric of her dress, I could discern the outline of her response, her nipples hardening under my touch. A physical testament to the charged atmosphere that enveloped us. Her body’s reaction, tangible and immediate, sent a wave of anticipation coursing through me.

The texture of her dress under my palms was a subtle contrast to the warmth of her skin, a reminder of the thin veil that still separated us from total surrender. Each breath she took was a melody, harmonizing with the quiet symphony of the night around us.

Jennie's retreat from our kiss left a tangible, connecting strand, a fleeting bridge between us that shimmered in the dim light. Her eyes, dark and enigmatic, bore into me with an intensity that felt as if it could unravel the very fabric of my being. Those eyes were like portals to uncharted depths, brimming with unspoken tales of desire and yearning.

"I've missed this, Owen" she whispered, her voice a soft rumble, resonating with every fiber of my being. She grinds against me, her hips moving back and forth, a tangible expression of her yearning that seeped through the barriers of our clothing. Her fingers, entwined in my hair, drew me back into her orbit, our lips crashing together in a kiss that was as fierce as it was profound. The intensity of our connection, raw and unbridled, engulfed me.

Consumed by her presence, the taste of her lips, the feel of her pressed so close, my hands roamed with a mind of their own. They journeyed beneath the hem of her dress, venturing over the smooth, warm terrain of her skin, each inch revealed a revelation in itself. The sigh that escaped her, a breathless affirmation of the moment, reverberated in me like a symphony.

Our bodies moved in tandem, a harmony of action and reaction, each caress, each undulation building on the next. Slowly, inch by inch I pushed her dress upward, revealing the subtle, sensual landscape of her form. Jennie's breath quickened as her hips rolled, grinding with an increased fervor against me, her nipples stiff and pronounced, brushing against my shirt, an exquisite combination of restraint and liberation. Her arms stretched upwards into the air as I pulled the fabrics of her dress, away from her, lifting its grip from her form, and over her head, which she then tossed casually to one side.

As Jennie's dress slid away, her figure, a stunning tapestry of curves and lines, was unveiled in the lunar glow that seeped through the windows. The moonlight played upon her skin, casting it in an ethereal shimmer, transforming her into a vision of porcelain radiance. She stood there, an embodiment of confidence and sensuality, a modern-day deity framed in a chiaroscuro of shadows and light.

My gaze lingered on her breast, tracing the contours of her physique – the gentle slopes and the pronounced curves that defined her form. Each aspect of her body, from the graceful arc of her waist to the delicate structure of her shoulders, spoke of a silent grace, a beauty that was as natural as it was captivating. Her skin, smooth and luminous, seemed to capture the very essence of the moon's glow, reflecting it back in a soft luminescence that highlighted her every move. My hands, acting with a fervor born from deep within, eagerly explored the expanse of Jennie's skin, a landscape I had once known intimately. The sensation of her beneath my fingertips was exhilarating – a cascade of textures and warmth that set every nerve ending alight. Her skin was soft, yet firm, yielding under my touch with a gentle resilience that beckoned for more exploration.

As I traced the contours of her body, every curve and dip spoke volumes. The softness of her breasts contrasted with the smooth, firmer feel of her abdomen, each sensation a paragraph in the story of her body. The way her skin responded to my touch, with subtle shifts and sighs, was like conversing in a language of sensation, each caress a word, each touch a sentence.

As my hands continued their journey, Jennie's responses turned into a symphony of their own. Her moans, soft yet resonant, were like notes rising from a well-tuned instrument, each one a melody of pleasure and surrender. The sound of her voice, humming in contentment, filled the room with a music that was deeply personal, an intimate concert shared between two souls.

Her moans ebbed and flowed with the rhythm of my touch, crescendos of sound that matched the increasing intensity of our connection. They were not just expressions of pleasure; they were communications, telling me without words how each caress, each gentle stroke was received. Her hums, low and melodic, were the bassline to the higher notes of her moans, creating a harmonious blend that was as compelling as any melody.

After savoring the sensation of Jennie's skin beneath my hands, an innate longing surged within me to delve deeper, to explore her with the intimacy of my lips. I began at her collarbone, a spot often overlooked yet brimming with delicate sensitivity. My lips traced its subtle contours, each kiss eliciting a gentle sigh from Jennie, her skin warm and soft under the tender pressure.

As I journeyed to her shoulders, the texture of her skin subtly shifted, becoming smoother, more resilient. Her responses grew in intensity, her moans a testament to the changing sensations my lips invoked. The scent of roses from her perfume grew stronger here, mingling with her natural fragrance to create an intoxicating aura.

Gliding down her arm, I reveled in the silkiness of her skin, each kiss a discovery of her unique topography. But it was at her armpit where I lingered, captivated by the uniqueness of this hidden enclave. The texture here was more intimate, the skin softer and imbued with a deeper scent that was unmistakably Jennie - raw and personal. Her reaction was more pronounced; her moans louder and filled with a depth that spoke volumes of the pleasure she felt.

As my lips finally reached the crest of Jennie's chest, the change in texture was profound. Her breasts, tender and full of life, responded to each kiss with a symphony of sensation. The delicate softness beneath my lips felt like the most luxurious satin, each touch deepening our connection. The subtle firmness of her nipples, aroused and beckoning, contrasted with the yielding flesh around them.

Gently, I let my tongue dance over the stiffened peak, and Jennie's reaction was immediate. A shiver coursed through her, a physical echo of the pleasure that resonated within. Her breathing became a series of rapid, shallow waves, a delicate soundtrack to our intimate ballet.

Meanwhile, my hand ventured to its twin, mirroring the actions of my mouth. The sensation of rolling and lightly flicking her other nipple elicited from her a chorus of sensual sounds, each moan a note in our crescendoing duet.

When I enveloped her sensitive peak with my mouth, Jennie's moan - "Oh my god" - reverberated through the room. The meticulous circling of my tongue around her was a focused ritual, each motion deliberate and attuned to her responses. The flavor of her skin was a delicate blend of sweetness tinged with the saltiness of her arousal, a tantalizing taste that drew me deeper into the moment. Her chest pushed forward, eager to meet the onslaught of stimulation with an intuitive abandon.

"I forgot how good you feel," I murmured, my voice tinged with a deep arousal, the words escaping almost involuntarily.

"I want to feel you too," Jennie responded, her voice a breathless mixture of playfulness and desire, sending a jolt of longing straight through me. Her eyes, deep and enigmatic like the midnight sky, held mine with an intensity that spoke volumes. Her hand traced a path up my arm, gliding over the contours of my shoulder, then wrapping around to my back with an electrifying touch that felt like a firebrand on my skin.

With an urgency that mirrored our rising passions, she tugged at my shirt, a silent beckoning for me to shed the last barrier between us. In a swift, seamless motion, Jennie peeled my shirt away, her hands immediately finding the warmth of my bare chest. Her initial feather-light touch quickly intensified, her fingers becoming more assertive, tracing and exploring my skin with a growing fervor that matched the beat of our racing hearts.

As Jennie began to mirror the way I had cherished her body, the intensity of the experience magnified. Her lips traced a path down my neck, each kiss a delicate imprint that seemed to sear into my memory. The sensation of her mouth moving across my skin was both soft and fervent, a contradiction that sent waves of pleasure through me.

Her hands, emboldened by her desire, explored the landscape of my torso. The contrast of her delicate fingertips against the firmness of my muscles created an exhilarating dance of sensations. The pressure of her touch varied, sometimes feather-light, other times more assertive, mapping the contours of my body with an attentiveness that was almost reverent. Each caress seemed to speak volumes, communicating her appreciation and desire in a language beyond words.

As she reached my chest, her exploration became more intense. The sensation of her lips against my skin was like an electric current, each kiss a spark that ignited deeper, more primal feelings within me. Her breath, warm and uneven against my skin, her soft murmurs and occasional sharp expletives, added to the crescendo of sensations, making every moment feel more heightened, more vivid.

In the midst of this exchange, a thought flickered through my mind, unbidden yet insistent. I wondered if her nights with her boyfriend held the same intensity, the same unbridled passion that we were experiencing. Was there the same depth of connection, the same exploration of senses? The thought was a sharp contrast to the immediacy of our encounter, a jarring reminder of the reality beyond this room.

Yet, as quickly as the thought came, it was swept away by the tide of our passion. The here and now was all that mattered - the feeling of her hands on me, the taste of her lips, the sound of her soft exclamations. In this moment, nothing else existed but the intensity of our rekindled connection, a fervor that seemed to eclipse all else.

"Fuck! I need your dick in my mouth," Jennie's voice was thick with desire as she slid off my lap. Her hands, eager and insistent, found their way to the waistband of my sweatpants. With a swift, almost ravenous movement, she tugged them down, freeing my aching arousal. It stood, hard and throbbing, just inches from her face. Her eyes, alight with a fiery blend of lust and hunger, locked onto mine.

"You can have it tonight," I responded, my voice a deep rumble of desire, as her small, delicate hands encircled me. The contrast of her soft touch against my hardness only heightened the moment.

"All of it?" Her question was laced with a seductive confidence, her eyes burning with an intensity that spoke volumes of her desire. I could only nod, caught up in the moment's gravity.

Leaning forward, Jennie's lips parted slightly, and she drooled over a thick glob of saliva that landed precisely on the tip. The warm fluid began to trickle down, glistening in the dim light. She deftly used her fingers to spread it, coating me in a sheen that was both slick and inviting. My entire being was alight with sensation, every nerve ending attuned to her movements as she began to work her hand along my length. Her grip was firm, her movements measured, each stroke a deliberate act of provocation.

Jennie's movements became more intense as she tilted her head, sweeping her hair to one side with a free hand while maintaining her fervent stroke. Her gaze remained locked with mine, a fiery blend of intensity and curiosity as she leaned down. The first sensation was the heat of her breath, a hot, moist whisper against my skin. Then came the slow, deliberate touch of her tongue, tracing a circle around the tip. The electricity of her touch sent a tremor through my body, a visceral reminder of our past intimacy.

As Jennie's lips enveloped the crown, the sensation was both familiar and overwhelming. Her tongue skillfully danced and teased, each movement deliberate and laden with sensation. The warmth and wetness of her mouth enveloped me further, each motion a blissful exploration. Time seemed to stretch and warp, the world outside our bubble ceasing to exist in the wake of her expert ministrations.

Her soft moan, vibrating around me, amplified the sensation, sending shockwaves through my body. I was caught in a spellbinding haze of pleasure, each movement she made bringing me closer to the edge of surrender. The combination of her lips, tongue, and the soft vibrations of her moans created an indescribable tapestry of pleasure, leaving me utterly enraptured.

"Holy Shit!" I couldn't hold back the moan as I found support against the couch's frame, my arms stretched out for stability. The intensity of Jennie's movements sent waves of pleasure through me, causing my head to thrash back in ecstasy. My heart raced uncontrollably, every beat echoing the mounting need within me.

Jennie's hair, a dark cascade, framed her face as she moved with a precision that was nothing short of masterful. The sensation of her lips, sliding rhythmically along my length, was unparalleled. Her ability to take me fully, her breath steady through her nose, spoke of an expertise that was both awe-inspiring and deeply arousing. The way her cheeks hollowed, the hungry suction, the repeated swallowing of my length – it was a dance of intensity and passion.

She occasionally paused, deliberately choking on the tip to gather saliva, which she then used to lubricate my entire length, enhancing the ride with each slick, smooth movement. Every action, every technique of hers was a testament to her skill, her dedication to the act transforming it into something akin to fervent devotion. The pleasure she bestowed was not just physical; it was an experience that transcended the mere act, elevating it to a form of worship.

As I felt the tide of climax beginning to rise within me, I instinctively wanted to prolong this intense experience, to savor more of Jennie's body. Gently, I tried to guide her head away, signaling my intention to pause, but she was resolute. Her determination was clear; she was intent on bringing me to the edge right then and there.

My attempts to ease her off were met with a firm slap of her hand against mine, a silent but emphatic message that she wasn't done yet. "You're giving this to me now, and you're giving me more later," she declared with a commanding tone that brooked no argument. Her eyes, alight with a fierce desire, locked onto mine, leaving no room for misunderstanding.

Jennie intensified her movements, her lips and hand working in perfect tandem. The sight of her, so engrossed in the act, her hair framing her focused expression, was utterly captivating. Each movement of her head, each stroke of her hand, was a masterful balance of pressure and rhythm, pushing me closer to the brink.

The sensory overload was overwhelming - the sight of her dedication, the feel of her mouth and hand, and the sounds of our shared pleasure filling the room. Jennie's technique was a perfect symphony of movements, each one bringing a higher crescendo of sensation, making it impossible to think of anything but the imminent and intense climax.

As the moment approached, a feeling akin to a tempestuous sea churned in my stomach, a wave of pleasure building, threatening to crest. Jennie, attuned to my nearing edge, let out a moan that mingled with the surge within me, intensifying the inevitable release. Overwhelmed, I succumbed to the climax, an eruption of sensation, met by Jennie's unwavering embrace. Her lips formed a perfect seal around me, her rhythmic strokes ensuring not a single moment was lost.

Her gaze remained locked with mine throughout, a mirror of pure satisfaction as she swallowed, taking in every part of the experience. In her eyes shone a prideful gleam, a recognition of her own prowess in guiding me to this point of surrender. Her delight was palpable, a silent celebration of the control she wielded, the pleasure she had drawn out.

As the waves subsided, leaving a trail of bliss in their wake, Jennie finally drew back, the connection gently severed, leaving us both in a state of breathless reprieve. She then picked up my shirt from the floor, using it to delicately wipe away the remnants of our encounter from her mouth and hands, her actions as deliberate and composed as they had been in the height of our passion.

Reeling from the intensity of my climax, I found myself being gently but firmly drawn back to the present by Jennie. Her lips met mine in a kiss that was soft yet charged, the taste of myself on her tongue adding a complex layer to our connection. This was more than just physical; it was an exchange of unspoken promises, a dance of intimacy and understanding.

"I'm not done with you. You brought me here, we're gonna make the most of it," she whispered against my lips, her tongue playfully darting out to trace my bottom lip. With a sudden shift, she grasped my hand and led me towards the bed, her movements fluid and purposeful.

As we moved through the suite, the sounds of the city outside filtered through the windows – the distant hum of traffic, the soft murmur of voices, the occasional siren. These were the symphonies of the night, the backdrop to our unfolding story. The room's lighting cast a soft, ambient glow, painting everything in a hue of warmth and intimacy.

As Jennie gracefully made her way onto the bed, her back presented a captivating sight. The arch of her spine flowed into the gentle swell of her hips, each movement accentuating the allure of her lower back and hips. Clad in a small black thong, her hips were teasingly framed, the fabric nestled seductively in the crevice, hinting at the hidden treasures yet to be revealed.

As she reached the center of the bed, Jennie slowly maneuvered herself into a captivating position. Her legs, long and elegantly toned, were raised and folded in a 'W' shape, an enticing display of both vulnerability and invitation. This pose accentuated the length of her legs, the curvature of her hips, and the delicate symmetry of her figure. The knee-high socks she wore added a contrasting element of innocence and playfulness to her otherwise exposed form.

Then, as if compelled by a force beyond her control, Jennie's hands embarked on a tantalizing exploration of her own body. They traced the contours of her breasts with a languorous care, each touch a study in self-adoration. The slow, deliberate movements of her fingers were hypnotic, accentuating her allure in the dimly lit room.

The transformation in Jennie's appearance since our earlier encounter was striking. Her makeup, now smudged and spread, lent her an air of wild abandon, while her hair, disheveled and untamed, framed her face in a chaotic halo. This raw, disordered state only heightened her appeal, lending her a captivating, almost intoxicating aura of realness.

Reclining gracefully, she ran a finger tantalizingly over her lips – lips that still bore the evidence of our previous passion. She continued her seductive journey, her finger tracing a path down her neck, over the gentle swell of her chest.

"come here..." she gestured over for me to join her on the bed, her tone both commanding and inviting. She turned to lay on her back, the sight of her body beckoning me forward.

Still covered by a black thong, her most intimate area was teasingly concealed, yet the way she moved hinted at what was to come. As I stepped closer, drawn in by the magnetic pull of her presence, Jennie reached down with a tantalizing slowness. Her fingers hooked onto the thin fabric of the thong, sliding it off in a motion that was nothing short of seductive. The removal of this final barrier revealed her in full, a breathtaking vision of desire laid bare before me.

In a move that was both deliberate and revealing, Jennie reached down, her hands delicately pulling at the skin on her inner thighs. This gesture was an open invitation, a welcome for my eyes to feast upon her most intimate self. As she gently parted her skin, the hidden beauty of her entrance was unveiled, a sight that was both intensely private and undeniably captivating. Her entrance glistened, its moist perfection a testament to the intensity of her arousal.

As I crawled forward onto the bed, the sensation of the soft, plush sheets against my hands was immediately noticeable. The fabric was smooth and fine, a stark contrast to the fervent energy that filled the room. Each movement I made caused the sheets to shift ever so slightly, creating a subtle but distinct sensation against my skin.

The bed itself was an island in the midst of our passion, its surface both yielding and supportive, a perfect backdrop for the intensity of the moment. As I found my place between Jennie's legs, the bed seemed to embrace us, its softness enveloping us in a cocoon of comfort and intimacy.

Jennie's body was a canvas of desire, painted with the colors of her own passion. Her skin, creamy and fair, glistened with sweat and moisture, reflecting the soft glow of the lamp on the bedside table. Her hair framed her face in a halo of darkness, accentuating her delicate features. Her breasts, small and plump, rose and fell with each shallow breath she took, their nipples hard and erect beneath the thin sheet that covered her.

As I looked at her from my position between her legs, I couldn't help but marvel at the sight before me. She was naked and vulnerable, yet there was a strength in her that spoke volumes. It was as if she had shed all pretenses of modesty and embraced her true self - a woman who knew what she wanted and wasn't afraid to go after it.

Jennie's hands moved with purpose across her body, tracing lazy circles around her nipples before dipping down to explore the sensitive flesh between her legs. Her fingers were long and slender, each one ending in a sharp claw that seemed to dig into her skin with every movement. She moved with an intensity that was both mesmerizing and intimidating - a woman who knew exactly what she wanted and wasn't afraid to take it.

As I watched her touch herself, my own body began to respond to the sight before me. My heart raced in my chest as I felt my own erection begin to stir beneath my sweatpants. The thought of being with Jennie again - of feeling her body against mine - was enough to send waves of pleasure coursing through me.

I couldn't help but feel drawn to her entrance - that intimate place where she had given herself so completely to me before. As I crawled closer between her legs, I couldn't help but feel a sense of reverence for the sight before me. It was as if I were witnessing something sacred - something that belonged only to us two.

Jennie's entrance was like nothing I had ever seen before - a perfect blend of delicate petals and firm muscle. The pink flesh was soft yet firm beneath my fingertips as I traced them over the surface. The scent of wetness mingled with the aroma of sweat and lust as I explored every inch of this intimate place that belonged solely to Jennie.

As I teased her entrance with my fingers, Jennie moaned softly - a sound that sent shivers down my spine as it echoed through the room. Her body tensed beneath me as she reached out for me - drawing me closer until our bodies were pressed together in an intimate embrace that seemed to transcend time itself.

I couldn't help but marvel at the sight before me. Jennie's entrance was like nothing I had ever seen before - a perfect blend of delicate petals and firm muscle. The pink flesh was soft yet firm beneath my fingertips as I traced them over the surface. The scent of wetness mingled with the aroma of sweat and lust as I explored every inch of this intimate place that belonged solely to Jennie. As I teased her entrance with my fingers, Jennie moaned softly - a sound that sent shivers down my spine as it echoed through the room. Her body tensed beneath me as she reached out for me - drawing me closer until our bodies were pressed together in an intimate embrace that seemed to transcend time itself.

I closed my eyes and let out a low moan as I savored the scent of her pussy, allowing it to permeate my senses and fill me with a desire that was both insatiable and exhilarating. My tongue darted out, eager to explore the fleshy depths of her entrance, and I licked the outer folds with a gentle, exploratory motion. The taste was unlike anything I had ever experienced before - sweet and salty, with just a hint of tanginess that spoke of her natural chemistry. It was intoxicating, addictive, and I found myself wanting more and more with each passing moment.

As my fingers delved deeper into her fleshy thighs, I felt a surge of pleasure course through me. The sensation was electrifying, sending shivers down my spine with each lick and suck. Her body pulsed beneath me, her hips undulating in rhythm with my movements, as if we were two dancers in perfect harmony. The sound of her soft moans filled the air, adding to the sensory experience. I could feel the heat radiating from her skin, the texture of her flesh beneath my fingertips, and the taste of her juices on my lips. Every sensation was amplified, every detail was vivid, and I found myself completely immersed into her.

I couldn't help but feel a sense of awe for the view before me - it was as if I were witnessing something holy - something that belonged only to us two. With each flick of my tongue, a symphony of sensations unfolded, like a tapestry of flavors and textures. I navigated the labyrinthine depths of her crevices, discovering hidden chambers and secret alcoves that ignited my senses. The taste of her essence, both sweet and musky, mingled with the salty tang of her sweat, creating a heady elixir that intoxicated me. The warmth of her body radiated through my skin, enveloping me in a cocoon of desire. The taste intensified, the sweetness fading into something richer and more intricate - a taste that spoke of depth and complexity that mirrored our own bond.

As I delved deeper into her entrance with my flicking tongue, I couldn't help but feel a sense of pride in what we were doing together. The world outside faded away, leaving only the raw, unapologetic sensations that coursed through our veins. Our bodies were connected by desire and passion, and we explored each other's with a sense of freedom and abandon. The taste of her essence was intoxicating, and I couldn't get enough of it. The salty tang of her sweat mingled with the sweetness of her body, creating a heady elixir that left me dizzy with pleasure. The warmth of her body radiated through my skin, enveloping me in a cocoon of desire. It was a moment of pure sensory exploration - an exchange of pleasure that transcended words or actions. It didn't matter that she was with someone, all that mattered was what we both wanted - needed..

"Oh my God!" As her slender fingers delved into the silken strands of my hair, a guttural moan escaped her lips, echoing through the dimly lit room like a siren's call. Her touch was a symphony of sensations, each caress sending shivers down my spine. It was as if she was weaving a spell, ensnaring me in a web of desire with every delicate pull and tug. "You're so good at that, Owen" Her teeth sank into the softness of her lower lip, drawing a crimson bead of blood. The skin of her neck tightened, corded muscles standing out like delicate ridges beneath the surface. A low, guttural growl escaped her throat, a primal sound that reverberated through the room.

My tongue, a fervent explorer, ventured beyond the silken folds of her womanhood, tracing the contours of her hidden desires. Each delicate stroke ignited a symphony of sensations, a chorus of whispers reverberating through her core. Her body, a finely tuned instrument, responded with a tremor, a ripple of anticipation coursing through her limbs. She writhed in agony, her limbs trembling with the intensity of her pleasure. Her stomach twisted and churned, a maelstrom of emotions swirling within her core. Her head lolled back, her eyes rolling with ecstasy as her body surrendered to the sensations coursing through her veins.

Her head arched back, a gasp escaping her lips as my tongue ventured forth, seeking the epicenter of her desire. My lips moved in a circular motion, teasing and tormenting her sensitive nub, each revolution igniting a fiery burst of pleasure that rippled through her body. Her legs tightened around my head, her toes curling in ecstasy as her hips bucked involuntarily. One of my fingers slipped down between the silken folds of her entrance, circling and probing, adding an extra layer of stimulation. The combination of my tongue and finger was too much for her, sending her spiraling into the abyss of ecstasy.

The room filled with the symphony of her moans, a primal melody that echoed off the walls. Her body writhed beneath me, her curves undulating like waves crashing against the shore. I could feel her heat and her wetness, taste her desire and her passion. I was lost in the moment, consumed by the sensations that swirled around us like a maelstrom. My finger continued its relentless assault, tracing the contours of her entrance, teasing and probing at its delicate folds. My tongue flicked and danced across her clit, each touch sending shockwaves of pleasure through her body. She was a marionette in my hands, her body contorting and twisting at my every whim. Her fingernails dug into my back, leaving moon-shaped marks on my skin. I basked in the pain, a manifestation of her unyielding passion.

Diving deeper into Jennie's silken depths, I felt her body tremble beneath me, her breath hitching in ragged gasps. My tongue danced across her heated folds, swirling and teasing like a mischievous sprite. Each touch sent shockwaves of ecstasy rippling through her core, her moans escalating into a desperate symphony that filled the room. Her hips arched involuntarily, seeking more of my fervent ministrations.

With one hand buried between her legs, I reached up with the other, exploring the smooth expanse of her toned stomach. My fingers traced the contours of her abs, teasing and tormenting her sensitive navel. She arched her back, her hips bucking wildly as my tongue danced across her clit. I could feel her heat and her wetness, taste her desire and her passion. I was lost in the moment, consumed by the sensations that swirled around us like a maelstrom.

As I continued to lick and suck at her clit, I slipped a finger inside her. It slid in easily, coated in her wetness. I began to pump my finger in and out, matching the rhythm of my tongue on her clit. Jennie's moans grew louder, more frenzied, her body trembling with anticipation. I could feel her muscles clenching around my finger, a sign that she was close.

With my free hand, I reached up to cup her breast, squeezing gently as my tongue continued its relentless assault on her clit. Her nipple hardened in my hand, a dark, erect bud that begged for attention. I pinched it lightly between my fingers, eliciting a sharp gasp from Jennie. Her hips bucked wildly, her body writhing beneath me as I continued to finger and lick her.

I could feel her heat and her wetness increasing, a sign that she was on the brink. With each relentless thrust, I quickened the tempo of my finger, driving it deeper into her slick, welcoming depths. I could feel her body responding, her muscles clenching and unclenching around my eager digit, a symphony of anticipation and surrender. Her breath hitched in her throat, a soft gasp escaping her lips as I continued my relentless assault on her pleasure center. My tongue danced across her clit, teasing and tormenting her sensitive nub. Jennie's moans grew louder, more desperate, a symphony of pleasure that filled the room.

In the hallowed chamber of our love, anticipation hung heavy in the air, pregnant with the promise of ecstasy. Her breaths came in ragged gasps, her whispered words barely audible above the fervent rhythm of our bodies. "Owen," she breathed, "I'm so close," and I could feel the trembling of her body, the clenching and unclenching of her muscles.

We were dancing on the precipice, so close to the edge, and I couldn't resist the urge to push her over. My fingers slid deeper into her slick, welcoming depths, the tempo of our love growing faster, more intense with each passing moment. The air was thick with the scent of passion, the taste of lust, and the sweetness of surrender.

As I continued my relentless assault on her pleasure center, I could feel the tension building, the anticipation growing. The air was thick with the scent of passion, the taste of lust, and the sweetness of surrender. My fingers slid deeper into her slick, welcoming depths, the tempo of our love growing faster, more intense with each passing moment. The rhythm of our bodies was in sync, our movements fluid and graceful, as we danced on the precipice of ecstasy.

I could feel the heat radiating from her skin, the beat of her heart echoing in my ears. Her whispered words of desire were like music to my ears, fueling my desire to bring her to the edge. I could sense the trembling of her body, the clenching and unclenching of her muscles, as she surrendered to the pleasure.

As I felt her body convulse around me, I knew that I had pushed her to the edge, that I had brought her to the point of no return. The intensity of our lust was overwhelming, a whirlwind of emotions and sensations that left me breathless. I could feel the warmth of her skin against mine, the softness of her hair, the taste of her lips on mine.

Her body, a symphony of rapture, throbbed beneath me, her cries of ecstasy echoing through the room. I had taken her to the precipice, and now she was free-falling into the abyss of pleasure. Her face, a canvas of desire, contorted with delight as she surrendered to the sensations that consumed her. I watched, enraptured, as she arched her back, her body trembling with the intensity of her climax. It was a moment of pure bliss, a communion of souls that transcended the physical realm.

As she finally descended from the tempestuous heights of her orgasm, Jennie lay there panting, her body still trembling like a leaf caught in an autumn gale. The aftershocks of ecstasy rippled through her, her skin flushed and damp with the nectar of our lovemaking. I moved beside her, my heart thrumming in my chest like a war drum, its beat echoing in the silence of the room like a primal chant. As I gazed into her eyes, I felt a raw, primal energy crackling between us, an electric current that coursed through our veins and ignited our souls.

After a moment, Jennie gathered herself, her breathing slowly returning to normal. She looked at me with a mix of desire and longing, her eyes locked onto my erection. Without a word, she reached out and spit on it, her saliva glistening on the tip as she began to stroke me. I moaned softly, my body responding to her touch with a fierce intensity.

"Now, for the real thing," Her breath, a warm caress against my ear, whispered promises of forbidden pleasures, unspoken desires. In the hushed tones of a seductress, she confessed, "I've been thinking about this"

My heart raced as she climbed on top of me, her body pressing against mine with a force that was both

exhilarating and terrifying. As Jennie descended upon me, I was captivated by the sight of her pussy swallowing my length whole, her muscles contracting around me with a ferocity that left me breathless. The feeling was ineffable, a surge of ecstasy that coursed through me like a tempestuous storm, electrifying every fiber of my being. Her gaze bore into mine, a mixture of passion and rebellion, as she claimed my cock in her body.

Jennie's body was a sight to behold, her curves accentuated by the soft, ambient light that bathed the room in a moody, atmospheric glow. Her breasts, full and firm, swayed gently with each thrust, their dark, rosy nipples standing erect against the cool air. Her hips moved in a hypnotic rhythm, her muscles flexing with each deliberate motion as she rode me with a fervor that left me breathless.

The view was breathtaking, Jennie's face a picture of pure, unadulterated pleasure. Her lips were parted, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she lost herself in the moment. Her eyes, dark and expressive, were filled with a raw, primal hunger that was both intoxicating and terrifying.

As we moved together, the room was filled with the symphony of our bodies slapping against each other, the wet, slick sounds of our flesh meeting in a frenzied dance of desire, like waves crashing against the shore. The air was thick with the scent of our arousal, a heady mix of sweat and sex that filled my senses and heightened my pleasure, intoxicating me with its primal allure. The rhythm of our lovemaking echoed through the room, a percussive symphony that pounded in my ears and set my heart racing with each thrust.

"Oh fuck, you're so tight," With a guttural moan, I plunged further into Jennie's depths, my body consumed by an insatiable hunger.

"And you're so big, you're stretching me out," Jennie moaned in response, her hips bucking wildly as she rode me with a fierce intensity.

"Do you like that? do you like my cock inside you? you've missed it dont you?" I asked, my voice thick with desire as I looked down at Jennie.

"yes! yes! Yes! Fuck!" Jennie cried out, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she lost herself in the moment.

In that moment, time seemed to stand still, and all that mattered was the intense sensory experience that was unfolding before me. Jennie's body was a symphony of pleasure, her every movement a testament to the raw, primal power of desire. And as I lost myself in the rhythm of our bodies, I knew that I was experiencing something truly transcendent, something that would stay with me long after the last echoes of our passion had faded away.

As she began to move, I felt myself being drawn into a world of pure sensation. Every thrust, every movement, was a symphony of pleasure that seemed to resonate deep within my soul. Jennie's eyes never left mine, her expression a mix of desire and determination as she rode me with a fierce intensity. I could feel her muscles clenching around me, a tight, wet heat that seemed to pull me deeper into her body with each passing second.

With a sudden surge of energy, I flipped her onto her back, guiding her legs apart as I positioned myself above her. Our eyes locked in a heated gaze as I plunged deeper into her, my body responding to her cries of desire with a feral intensity.

In this newfound position, I was able to control the depth and pace of our lovemaking, driving myself into her with an insatiable hunger. The headboard creaked against the wall in time with our frantic rhythm, the room filled with the wet sounds of our passionate union. Her hands gripped my back, nails digging into my skin as we moved together as one.

With each thrust, our bodies collided in a symphony of sensations – the slickness of our skin meeting in a primal dance, the soft moans escaping Jennie's lips as she arched her back to meet my every movement. Sweat glistened on both our bodies, beading on our skin like liquid diamonds under the dimmed lights. Her breasts bounced with each impact, nipples hardened and begging for attention. I reached down to tease them roughly, eliciting a gasp from Jennie that spurred me onward.

I could feel every ripple and fold of her wet heat enveloping me, clenching around my length like a vice. The scent of our arousal hung heavy in the air – musky and intoxicating – fueling the fire that burned between us. As I watched our reflection in the mirrored ceiling above us, I marveled at the sight: two bodies entwined in an age-old dance, seeking solace and release in each other's arms.

As I pushed into her further, I raised Jennie's elongated, slender limbs by their ankles, spreading them outward for my access. The visual before me was captivating - her toned thighs glistening with perspiration, her delicate toes curling and uncurling as I kissed and licked upon them. Her thin arms quivered with ecstasy. One hand clung tightly to the bedsheets, the other meandering down to manipulate her breasts, pinching and tugging at the firm nipples that stood upright against the cool atmosphere. Her eyelids were shut, her visage a blend of pleasure and agony as she yielded herself to the overwhelming sensations coursing through her entire body.

Jennie pulled me down to kiss her, her lips soft and warm against mine. Our tongues danced together in a frenzied rhythm, mirroring the movements of our bodies below. I could feel her heart pounding against my chest, her breath hot and heavy in my ear as she urged me onward. My thrusts did not stop, my body driven by a primal need to claim her once more.

Her nails raked down my back, leaving a trail of fire in their wake, fueling the flames of our passion even further. Our bodies collided with an intensity that belied the passage of time, as if we were two souls trapped in an endless loop of desire and need. The room was filled with the sound of our moans and gasps, a symphony of lust that echoed off the walls. The scent of our arousal hung heavy in the air – musky and intoxicating – as we raced towards that elusive peak together.

In this moment, there was only us – two people lost in a sea of passion, seeking solace and release in each other's arms. As I looked into her dark eyes, I saw the same longing and desire that burned within me.

Soon after we switched positions, Jennie was on all fours, presenting her luscious ass to me as I entered her from behind. I couldn't help but admire the view before me – her toned backside, the delicate dip of her spine, and the way her hair cascaded down her back in a waterfall of ebony silk. Her skin glistened with a sheen of sweat, accentuating every curve and contour of her body.

As I positioned myself behind her, I marveled at the sight of my cock sliding into her wet heat once more. The sensation was indescribable – hot, tight, and wet; it felt like coming home. With each thrust, I could feel every ripple and fold of her inner walls clenching around me, as if she were trying to hold onto me forever. The sound of our bodies colliding filled the room, a primal symphony that echoed off the walls.

In this position, Jennie's body took on an even more alluring form – hips curved in invitation; and thighs spread apart in wanton display. Her back arched gracefully, accentuating the perfect curve of her spine and emphasizing the delicate line of her neck. It was a breathtaking sight, truly awe-inspiring - this beautiful creature beneath me, her body glistening with a fine sheen of sweat, her breath hitching with every thrust I made. Her moans, they were like sweet music to my ears, filling the room with an erotic symphony that echoed off the walls. They were desperate pleas for more, whispers of pleasure intermingling with the rhythmic crescendo of our bodies colliding. The sight and sounds of Jennie in the throes of ecstasy was intoxicating, pushing me further to the edge.

Every thrust was a desperate attempt to fuse our bodies together, to become one with this woman who held my heart captive. Our bodies collided with a force that belied the tenderness of our earlier lovemaking, a raw and primal display of unrestrained passion.

I reached down, my fingers tracing the delicate line of her spine, feeling the soft texture of her skin beneath my fingertips. Her body trembled beneath my touch, a mixture of pleasure and anticipation. I leaned down and kissed her neck, my lips trailing a path of fire down to her collarbone. She moaned softly, her head tilting back to give me better access.

My hands slid down her body, cupping her firm buttocks. I squeezed gently, feeling the muscles tense beneath my touch. Her hips moved involuntarily against mine, a desperate plea for more. I responded by thrusting into her with renewed vigor, my body driven by a primal need to claim her.

Jennie's body trembled beneath me, her muscles tensing and relaxing in a rhythmic dance of ecstasy. Her moans grew louder, more urgent, as she neared the precipice of release. Her body was a canvas of pleasure, her skin glistening with sweat as she writhed beneath me.

I could feel it too, the heat and tightness building between us, the overwhelming need to explode in a symphony of pleasure. It was like a volcano ready to erupt, the pressure building and building.

"Owen," she whispered, her voice a desperate plea. "I'm so close."

Her hushed murmurs were barely perceptible over the symphony of our pounding hearts and the wet slap of our bodies colliding in a rhythm as old as time itself. The scent of sweat and sex hung heavy in the air, intoxicating me with every breath I took. I carefully parted the supple curves of her ass, my gaze transfixed on the provocative sight before me: myself buried deep within her slick, welcoming folds.

"I'm close too, fuck! I'm gonna cum" I surrendered to the primitive instinct within me, my hips driving against her with newfound urgency. The soft, supple curves of her back molded perfectly against the harsh angles of my chest and abdomen. Her skin was a living flame beneath my fingertips – hot, slick, and glistening with sweat that clung to her like a second skin. The intoxicating taste of salt and woman filled my mouth as I pressed kisses along the graceful arch of her neck, each one drawing a gasp or a moan from her lips in response.

Such sweet music she made – soft sighs and whimpers that danced in harmony with the symphony of our bodies colliding in rhythmic unison. They were notes on an erotic sonnet, each one resonating deep within me, igniting sparks that threatened to consume me whole.

As the intensity of our coupling began to overwhelm me, I felt my legs quivering, the pressure mounting and threatening to spill over. With a firm grip on her shoulders, I channeled all my strength into thrusting against her - plunging into Jennie with an urgency borne of pure desire and unbridled lust. Each thrust resonated deep within me, stirring up a tempest of emotions that swirled in harmony with the rhythm of our bodies colliding. The sweet friction generated by our union was as intoxicating as it was maddening.

The intensity of her orgasm was like a tidal wave, crashing over me and pulling me under. I could hear her screams of pleasure, echoing in my ears as she came undone beneath me. Her body trembled and quivered, every muscle taut and tense as she rode out the waves of ecstasy. Her nails dug into my back, leaving crescent moons etched into my skin as she held on for dear life. The sensation of her walls clenching around me, milking me for all I was worth, was almost too much to bear. I felt myself losing control, my own climax building rapidly as I thrust into her with abandon.

"Fuck, you're so tight," I groaned, my voice strained and desperate. "I'm gonna cum."

"Oh my God, Owen!" She cried out, her voice a desperate plea. "Fill me up!"

With a final, desperate thrust, I let go. The pleasure exploded outwards from my core, a blinding white light that consumed me whole. I felt myself spill into her, my release warm and thick as it filled her to the brim. Her body shook beneath me, her walls milking me for every last drop as she came undone once more. With a surge of desire, her inner walls gripped me tightly, milking every inch of my throbbing cock as she pressed herself against my groin. Her body trembled beneath me, the rhythmic motion causing her juices to mix with the heat of my own release, filling her to the brim with my essence. The sensation was overwhelming and intoxicating, a swirl of pleasure and wetness.

The culmination overwhelmed us, a torrent of delight that teetered on the edge of being unbearable. This peak, an oft-experienced sensation, was a mass consumption of joy that stemmed from my very essence. It was like a dazzling white glare, a flood tide crashing over me and pulling me under its swell. The impact nearly felt scary, but in the most positive way. It was as if each sensory neuron in me had been ignited, a harmonious symphony of sensations that left me breathless and quivering with fulfillment.

As the waves of pleasure began to subside, I collapsed onto the bed beside her, my body spent and satisfied. I pulled her close, my arm wrapped around her waist as I pressed kisses to her neck and shoulder. Her body was still trembling, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she tried to catch her breath.

I looked into her eyes, and what I saw there was a mixture of pleasure and longing, a deep emotional and physical satisfaction that mirrored my own. I held her in my arms, her body still trembling from the force of our climax. Her hair was plastered to her face, sweat sticking to her skin in a way that only added to her allure. She was breathtaking – a sight that I knew I would never grow tired of. As she lay there in my arms, panting and heaving, I couldn't help but think about what could have been between us.

The intensity of our connection flooded my mind with memories and regrets. I thought back to our time together years ago, when things were different. When the possibilities between us seemed endless. Back then, I had felt the magnetic pull towards her – the urge to give myself to her fully, to commit everything I had. But the fear always held me back, gripping my heart like a vise. I was terrified of losing myself in her, of the vulnerability that comes with true intimacy. So I held back, keeping her at arm's length even as we shared our bodies and souls.

She had wanted more, I knew that even then. I could see it in her eyes whenever she looked at me – that simmering desire for the whole of my heart. But the fear was too strong, the habit of self-protection too ingrained. And so she eventually moved on, leaving me bereft and full of remorse.

Now here she was again, trembling in my arms like she belonged there. The old longings came flooding back, mingled with regret. If only I could go back and choose differently, give her the love she deserved. But it was too late for that. The best I could do was cherish these stolen moments together, even as I knew deep down that I would inevitably pull back again. She was my North Star, my guiding light – but one that I could never fully reach no matter how hard I tried. The thought filled me with equal parts bliss and anguish. I held her tighter as she drifted off to sleep, wishing I could freeze this moment forever. --

I draw an elongated, languid pull from my cigarette, allowing the nicotine to seep into my bloodstream as I linger on this balcony, my perch above the dazzling, pulsating cityscape of New York. The night air is sharp, a crisp contrast to the lingering warmth that still clings to my skin—a souvenir from our passionate interlude.

Inside, Jennie is nestled in the land of dreams, her petite frame delicately cocooned in the luxurious hotel sheets that still bear the scent of our shared desire. I ought to join her, to envelop her in my arms and surrender to the beckoning call of sleep. However, a restless energy pervades my being, my mind a volatile whirlpool in the aftermath of our tempestuous coupling.

Jennie, a beautiful enigma, belongs to another now—Yet, tonight, we merged in a wild conflagration of raw desire, our bodies entwining in a dance as old as time itself, lost in a sea of ecstasy. I staked my claim on every inch of her, driven by a primal need to etch myself into her memory, an indelible mark she'd never be able to erase. Her nails etched a path of fervor down my back, her cries a symphony spurring me forward as we hurtled towards the precipice of oblivion. And when that moment of release arrived, it was a cataclysm—a searing flash of divine perfection that shattered us, only to rebuild us anew.

Commitment has always been my Achilles heel, a specter I avoid with the agility of a seasoned matador. It terrifies me, this concept of vulnerability and surrender. The lessons life has imparted have taught me that nothing golden remains, so I seize my moments of joy with a fierce grip, refusing to hold too tightly lest they slip away. I prefer to exist in a world of beautiful fragments, a mosaic of fleeting moments, rather than be tethered to a monotonous eternity. These thoughts weave their way through my mind as I exhale the ashen smoke from my lips, the remnants of my vice liberated from the confines of my lungs.

I flick the cigarette over the edge, its glowing cherry tracing a fleeting arc in the obsidian night, a dying star lost in the city's neon abyss. Jennie, she is my Polaris, an immutable point of light guiding my aimless wanderings even when she's a universe away. The distance between us may stretch into miles, yet I find myself perpetually ensnared in her cosmic pull, tethered to the irresistible gravity of her radiance.

Perched high above the city, I cast my gaze downwards, drinking in the nocturnal theater below. A ceaseless ballet of headlights, the urban arteries throbbing with life—cars darting like metallic fish, blaring horns that sing a discordant symphony of the city's pulse. Amid the clamor, a melody tiptoes into my consciousness, a haunting siren's song birthed from the events of the night. My next creation, a symphony of sentiments woven into delicate prose, stands ready to unfurl. It's an intimate piece of my soul, a whisper of my essence, something to bare and share with the world. A tapestry of words dipped in the hues of my deepest longings, a lingering echo of my heartbeat, yearning to resonate in the hearts of those willing to lend an ear;

I'm in town for one night, one night only

I came around to put it down, for one night only

Just one night

Got a room for me and you, for one night only

You wanna ride for a lifetime, this is one night only

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My first fic, hope you guys like it.

#male reader #smut #jennie kim #blackpink #jennie #malereader #jennie x male reader #blackpink x male reader

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mysunshinetemptress · 6 months ago

Text

In The Moonlight

Leah Williamson x singer!reader warnings: None except shitty writing, fluff

A grin stretched across your face, wide enough to rival the jet lag currently waging war in your head. Two world tours back to back had been a whirlwind, exhilarating and exhausting in equal measure, Social media detox was the doctor's orders, a chance to reconnect with the real world however it was about to get a small pause with the absurdity of the TikTok trend.

Here you were, the hottest pop star on the planet, about to participate in a goofy social media challenge inspired by a goofy song from a sitcom.

You had stumbled upon a hilarious trend, people were reenacting the iconic scene from Modern Family where Dylan serenades Haley with his...interestingly phrased song, "In the Moonlight (Do Me)," and passing it off as their own in front of their family and friends. Laughter bubbled up in your chest as you watched one particularly enthusiastic boy singing the suggestive lyrics much to his parent's disgust and surprise.

"Right," you declared, voice thick with amusement, as you spoke into the phone"I'm breaking my social media blackout for this because I can't help but take part in this trend."

With a mischievous glint in your eyes, you grabbed your phone heading to the living room where Leah and a few of your family and friends have gathered for the barbecue. "hey guys can I have your attention for a quick second, please..I know I'm supposed to be on a break but, I can't get this new song out of my head and I need your opinion on it, I actually think it might work for a single."

A collective groan went up from the assembled group. They knew your "work" mode well, and it usually involved long nights in the studio, not impromptu living room performances. But Leah, ever the supportive girlfriend, flashed a smile.

"Alright, Elvis," she said, amusement dancing in her eyes. "Hit us with this 'new song.'"

Taking a dramatic breath, you check the tuning of your guitar, "It's eh, well you all know who it's about, the same person as all my other songs..it's called In the Moonlight"

The first strum of your guitar sent a hush over the room. They expected the usual pop magic, the infectious energy that had propelled you to superstardom. Instead, your voice crooned out the opening lines of Dylan's "song" with a hilariously exaggerated earnestness.

"The stars are falling from the sky, and you're the reason why. The moon is shining on your face, and I think it's found its place."

Laughter erupted as you finished the first verse, shattering the stunned silence. Your face turned crimson, but you held your pose, trying to maintain a serious expression as you began the chorus.

"Cause maybe, baby, I just want to do you, do you, do you want to do me, do me, underneath the moonlight, moonlight."

Your friends began to laugh silently as Leah's parents and your parents looked on horrified.

"And now we're hiding in my car, I let you see my scars, escape the dark for just one night, your heart makes me explode with light."

Leah snorted, trying to stifle a laugh. Your family exchanged bewildered glances.

"Baby, maybe, Maybe I will steal you, steal you just so I can feel you, feel you, maybe that will heal you, heal you on the inside."

The last note of your "song" died down, replaced by the deafening sound of crickets...or at least, it felt that way. Your family and friends stared at you, mouths agape, the only sound a choked cough from Leah's dad.

The tension broke as Leah doubled over, tears streaming down her face. "Oh my god," she gasped between laughs, "that was amazing! You had them fooled for a good minute there!"

Slowly, the rest of the room caught on. Laughter erupted, first in hesitant chuckles, then in full-blown roars. Even Leah's parents faces still flushed with surprise, couldn't help but crack a smile.

Your parents, still trying to process the experience, shot you a look that mingled amusement with a hint of disapproval. "Honey," your mom began cautiously, "that wasn't exactly...subtle, was it?"

You grinned sheepishly. "Maybe not," you admitted. "But you gotta admit, the reactions were priceless!"

Leah walked over, shaking her head and trying to hide a smile. "You're a menace," she said, giving you a playful shove.

You posted the video a short while later breaking the internet once again. The next morning, your phone was buzzing with notifications. Fans everywhere were recreating your video. You were trending again only this time not because of your tour.

Leah smiled hugging you from behind the next morning "You know I love you and all the wonderful songs you write about me, us, our relationship, but please promise me you will never write anything like that."

Leah smiled hugging you from behind the next morning "You know I love you and all the wonderful songs you write about me, us, and our relationship, but please promise me you will never write anything like that." You laughed turning in her arms "I love you too much to write a song just about your body and my wants for it, no I'll write about you, your soul and sometimes when I feel extra fruity then I'll write about your body and my wants for it no my needs for it."

Leah pulled you in closer kissing you softly "And I'll be your number one listener."

#woso #awfc #woso fanfics #woso one shot #woso imagine #leah williamson #leah williamson x y/n #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson x you #woso soccer #woso couples #woso community #woso x reader #arsenal women #modern family

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angelicblondie · 3 months ago

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what about luke castellan x ballerina!reader but she had to give up ballet when she went to camp and he like finds her dancing in the forest one night. maybe when he’s a little busy with like backstabbing everyone but yk🤷‍♀️

(like meet me in the pale moonlight or tomorrow never came coded like ughh😩😩)

wait...i adore this. as a dancer this made my heart actually jump for joy.

every night, luke was plagued with dreams. the not good kind, more specifically.

it started a few months ago. the deep ancient voice of a titan long imprisoned would echo through his mind, urging his darkest desires of revenge and shameful need for power to the forefront of his thoughts. he was angry, angry at the gods for ignoring him and all their other children. he wanted to stop this system, he was full of bitterness.

so the voice in his head was appealing. he knew that it probably wasn't morally good to listen to the evil titan kronos, but then again, if it all ended up with the system of the gods abolished, he could live with that.

but anyways, the point is, dreams invaded the peace luke found in his unconscious state, and sometimes, it was too much. sure, he agreed with the titan, but he wasn't ready to abandon home and betray his friends, not when they were the only ones who accepted him. he couldn't do that, no matter how much to words appealed to him.

so, when the hermes cabin felt suffocating, and his mind was reeling, late at night, luke would venture off into the woods.

luke felt at comfort with the odd eeriness that filled the late night air - he didn't jump or flinch at the sounds of leaves crunching or bushes rustling - he felt at peace with the scary.

that was, until he saw footsteps in the mud.

curious, luke followed the trail, until he reached an more open area of the forest, and he leaned up against a tree, taking in the sight in front of him with pure curiosity.

there you were, wearing grey sleep shorts, a black tank top, and a pink cardigan, dancing in the middle of this forest.

you seemed to be in your own world, sneakers planted in the ground as you did some simple plies, and luke watched, transfixed by the sight. your hair was tied up by a pink ribbon, and you had the most peaceful expression on your face, not one luke had ever seen before.

you were relatively new to camp, only having arrived in the past year. you were quickly claimed by your mother, aphrodite, and gained a fast group of friends and a positive reputation. luke and you hadn't talked much - sure, he gave you your tour, and the two of you had got on quite well, but once you got claimed, he didn't have much time to talk to you, given the rapid enthusiasm of your siblings.

he didn't know you were a dancer, a good one in fact. you elegantly pranced around, your feet moving quickly yet gracefully. luke was mesmerized - he had never really seen anything like it, like you. you seemed so free - so unburdened by the struggles of being a demi god. just you, alone (kind of?), dancing - luke guessed like every other demigod, you had found your own way to feel normal in this crazy world.

eventually, your eyes caught luke, and you stumbled back, imidiatley flushing. gods, you were mortified!

"l-luke? what are you doing here?" you exclaimed indignantly.

luke remained leaned up against the tree, the corners of his lips tilting upwards. "was on a walk, happend to come across you."

you huff. "how long have you been there?"

he shrugs, standing up straight. "not long." he walks forwards a bit, closer to where you stood. "you dance?"

wasnt it obvious? you thought, but awkwardly twiddled your thumbs. "well, used to, i guess. cant really anymore, cause....you know." you say, your voice somewhat shy.

luke humed in recognition. "yeah, the whole demigod thing doesnt help. wouldnt be fun if a cyclops showed up to a rectial, huh?" he said, the dry yet teasing humour in his voice elicited a giggle from your lips. "guess not," you agree softly, your eyes twinkling happily.

luke, feeling a little bashful, rubbed the back of his neck. "uh, your really good by the way. i feel a bit bad interrupting, you were in the zone."

you bite your lip, feeling a bit embarrassed. "yeah well, theres never really time to dance anymore, so i guess whenever i cant sleep i come out here to." you look him up and down. "is that why you're out here? you cant sleep?"

luke hums. "yeah. nightmares," he simplifies, his thoughts being brought back to the reason he left his cabin.

you blow out a breath of air. "hate those," you mumble.

luke observes you. "you enjoying camp?" he asks, changing subject.

you smile a little, nodding. "yeah, its different then what i thought it would be. it actually been really great, my sibling have been super welcoming," you say, your voice sounding so genuine and enthusiastic it was hard for luke not to smile.

his lips quirk up, eyes filled with a bit of mischief. "yeah, well, camp'll do that for you."

you bite your lip, almost as if you were contemplating your next words. "y'know, i haven't seen much of you since i got here. you must be busy."

luke chuckles a bit. "why, have you been looking for me?"

his flirty words heated your cheeks and you let out a nervous laugh. "no!" yes. "i was just wondering."

luke poked his tongue to the inside of his cheek. "right, right."

you talked for a little longer, before luke escorted you back to your cabin. you thanked him with a quick kiss to the cheek before running inside, and luke walked back to his own cabin, distracted from the overbearing titan in his dreams, even if only for a little while.

#xoxo #why was it so hard to write dancing istg #luke castellan fic #love u angels #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #percy jackson x reader #luke castellan fanfic #luke castellan imagine #lukexreader #luke castellan x ballerina!reader #ballerina!reader #pjo #percy jackson fic

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morgaseus · 7 months ago

Text

Thinking about slow dancing with sunday…

Contains slight spoilers for the Penacony quest. Set before the nameless arrived in Penacony.

“Do you know how to dance?”

The scratching of a pen suddenly stopped, he lifted his head, pen hovering above the parchment for a moment, before finally being laid down beside it. Your voice echoed throughout his study, breaking the silence between you two.

“Oh? Where did that suddenly come from?" His gaze drifted towards you. Moonlight spilled through the windows, tracing silver lines across your face. You were always beautiful but basked in the moonlight's glow, you looked absolutely breathtaking, as delicate as the forget-me-not's in his garden.

“I was thinking” you trailed off, slowly walking towards the gramophone resting beside the bookshelf. Your fingers trailed along the smooth brass surface of the gramophone, before finally reaching for the record tucked beside it. And with a click, a slow, but familiar melody filled in the air. “How about a dance?” You turned to him with a smile.

You needn't say anymore. He rose from his chair, his leather shoes creating a soft thud along the carpet as he walked towards you. The moonlight that filtered through the window bathed him in an ethereal glow. It danced across his features, casting a faint glow to his golden halo. His dull gray hair shimmered, the moonlight painting it silver. It emphasized the sharp, yet, soft angles of his face. His feathery soft wings, pierced with golden studs. You wonder how he got that, whenever you asked, he’d always changed the subject. You let out a faint smile. Everything about him was captivating but it was his eyes that drew you in. His golden eyes, full of secrets, held a warmth that enveloped you. You could get lost in them forever. Ahhh. truly, he looked like a being that fell from the heavens. Befitting his title as “the most handsome man in Penacony.”

As he reached you, his hand extended, palm open and inviting. A soft smile present in his face, his gaze never leaving yours. “Well, then, would you care for a dance, m’lady?”

You gladly took his hand and slipped into his embrace, swaying together to the rhythm of the melody. In this moment, he could lose himself entirely. Whenever you’re with him, time seems to slow down, the world fading into a blur.

The weight of the Oak family’s legacy - the 106,366 oak family members - loomed over him like a dark cloud. And with the Charmony Festival looming, a single misstep could shatter generations of aspirations. He'd been preparing for this ever since the dreammaster whispered words of promises in his ear. Every moment led to that one, final performance.

No longer would Robin have the need to go on a “tour” and risk her life to bring harmony. No longer would everyone have to suffer and endure mortal pain. No longer would everyone have to tear down each other's throat for a mere sliver of gold. He will bring order and utopia to everyone. Yes, he will be their salvation, not a tyrant, not a conqueror, but a shepherd ushering his flock to a new dawn.

Yet, for a moment, under the soft glow of the moon, he allowed himself to forget. In your arms, the crushing weight seemed to ease.

For now, it was just you and him.

#thinking about sunday suddenly sparked something in me...#i love this man in a big amount #no one can ever make me hate you sunday #balik kana pls miss na kita at ng mga anak mo :C #hsr x reader #sunday x reader #sunday hsr #honkai star rail #hsr #sunday x you #yuna works

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anny-ley · 10 months ago

Text

"You’re a pretty little thing ! "

Seonghwa x fem. reader

warnings: masturbating, oral (m. receiving), biting, rough sex, unprotected sex (don't do that wrap it up guys!), dominance, submission, hair pulling, begging, a bit after care

18+ content bellow, minors dni

reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated! sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language.

As you laid in bed, the soft glow of the moonlight bathed the room, casting a dreamlike ambiance. Thoughts of him consumed your mind, and the memories of your passionate encounters danced vividly in your imagination.Closing eyes, you let your mind drift back to that electric moment when you two last kissed. The warmth of his lips, the taste of his desire, still lingered on your own. You could almost feel his breath against your skin, igniting a flicker of heat that coursed through your veins. Your fingers traced the outline of your lips, reimagining the sensations as Seonghwa‘s kisses brushed against your tender flesh.The memory of his touch sent a wave of delicious anticipation surging through your body, awakening every nerve.

You recalled the way his hands explored your curves , with each caress leaving a trail of fiery longing. The memory of his fingertips dancing along your collarbone, skimming down your neck, and teasing the sensitive skin at the nape of your neck sent shivers of pleasure cascading through your body. Heart quickened as you vividly recalled Seonghwa‘s touch inching higher, setting your skin ablaze with desire. The anticipation built within you, like a tightly coiled spring yearning to be released. The imagination his hand slipping beneath the fabric of your dress, his fingers tracing the outline of your body, awakening every inch of skin with his gentle, yet electrifying touch.The intensity of your longing heightened as you replayed in mind the intoxicating dance of your two bodies.

You could almost feel the weight of Seonghwa‘s daze his eves filled with desire as he explored you with an intensity that stole a breath away. In the depths of your imagination, you allowed yourself to indulge in the sensations, each touch, each kiss, growing more intense, more vivid, more electrifying. The memory of your connection fueled your desire, stoking the fire within you until it burned brightly, consuming your thoughts. Lost in the ecstasy of the memory, your hands began to explore your own body, tracing the paths where his had once traveled. Your fingers trailed along your neck, down your chest, and across your heated skin, mirroring the sensations you craved so much. With each touch, your breathing grew more labored, heart racing with the intensity of your desire. The memory of Seonghwa‘s tantalizing kisses and teasing sent ripples of pleasure coursing through you, building your arousal with each passing second. As you surrendered to the power of your imagination, you allowed yourself to be swept away by the intoxicating wave of pleasure. In the depths of your passion, you found solace, knowing that soon, he would be in your arms once again, turning your dreams into reality.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden glow over the city, you stood at the window of her cozy apartment, heart pounding with anticipation. It had been months since you last saw Seonghwa , your beloved boyfriend, and the ache of his absence grew with each passing day. The longing to be in his arms, to feel his warm embrace, consumed every thought. His job had taken him to far-off lands, as the next world tour was due. But now, after what felt like an eternity, he was finally returning home. You had spent countless nights imagining your reunion, creating vivid scenes in your mind. You wanted this moment to be perfect, a culmination of all the love and longing you had endured. As you adorned yourself in a stunning dress, your hands trembled with excitement. You know what would happened, too often you had imagined how he would pick you up and carried you to your bed. You missed the way he makes you feel. The way he leans over you with so much desire in his eyes. The weight of his body on yours, feeling how turned on he is. How his length is completely filling you out…

Minutes turned into hours as you waited by the door, your heart fluttering with each passing sound. And then, as if on cue, the sound of a key turning in the lock filled the apartment, sending waves of joy through your entire being. In that instant, all your impatience and longing transformed into a surge of pure bliss. The door swung open, revealing Seonghwa, his angelic features illuminated by the soft glow of the hallway lights. His eyes met your, and in that single moment, the world around you ceased to exist. Time stood still as you rushed into each other's arms, your bodies fitting together like missing puzzle pieces. His familiar scent, feeling the warmth of his embrace. In that embrace, all the months of longing, all the nights spent yearning for his touch, melted away, replaced by an overwhelming sense of completeness.

As Seonghwa held you in his arms, your bodies pressed together, a flicker of desire sparked between you . The heat of your reunion ignited a fire within both of you, awakening a hunger that had been building during your time apart. Seonghwa leaned in, his lips brushing against your earlobe, sending shivers down your spine. His voice, husky and filled with longing, whispered words that resonated deep within your soul. "You have no idea how much I've missed you," he murmured, his warm breath tantalizing your senses. Your pulse quickened as you locked eyes with him, feeling your desire growing. Gently, Seonghwa trailed his fingers along the curve of your jawline, his touch sending a rush of heat through your entire body. He traced a path down your neck, his fingertips dancing lightly along your collarbone, leaving a trail of fiery anticipation in your wake.

Your lips met in a searing kiss, an explosion of pent-up passion unleashed. Your arms wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, as your mouths moved in perfect harmony. The taste of him, the familiarity and yet newness of his kiss, set you aflame . As you continued to explore each other's mouths, your hands roamed, igniting flames wherever they touched. With a gentle tug, Seonghwa guided you towards the bedroom, your bodies moving as if in a dance of pure desire. His hand slipped beneath the fabric of your dress, his fingers tracing the outline of your curves, teasing and tempting you. You gasped against his lips as you felt the warmth of Seonghwa’ s hand inching higher, igniting a delicious ache between your thighs. Every nerve in your body tingled with anticipation as he teased and caressed, his touch conveying a deep understanding of your desires.

He smiled at you. He could see you was getting turned on by him. He was making you wet. You was getting so horny. You couldn't believe how much this was already turning you on. You wanted to be fucked by him right there. You wanted him to feel your tits, suck on your nipples, to lick and bite them. You wanted to feel his tongue in your pussy. These were all you could think about, the way he would fuck your brain out. You closed your eyes his lips touching yours again, his tongue entering your mouth. You felt his hand cup your breast as his other hand reached around your back and unzipped your dress. The way his fingers found your nipple through your bra made you moan into his mouth. He moved back looking at you with a dirty smile. "So turned on already jagiya? I barely touched you yet…“ he said as his thumb began to rub your nipple. You moaned louder as his lips went to your neck. He sucked on your neck as his hand massaged your breast. His hand moved from your breast to your thigh. As his hand slid under her dress he wormed another pretty moan out of you which seem to affect him, you could feel his bulge underneath your panties growing even bigger.

You shivered as his fingers found your panties and rubbed your pussy. "Spread your legs“ he said, you could her how his voice trembled with arousal. You slowly spread her legs and he pressed his big hand against your pussy. You felt his finger move the hem of your rather conservative panties, electric shocks ran through your body when his skin touched your sensitive area. He kissed your neck and whispered into your ear, "Do you like it? " You moaned." Yes. "He smiled, "Good. Because I'm going to take them off. "He pulled your panties off and threw them away.

He put his hands on your ass and lifted you up. Your arm wrapped around his neck. You felt his dick concealed by his trouser pressing against your pussy. You moved your hips a bit forward and stared to move them in little circles pressing directly against his erection. He hissed the grip around your waist tightened "You dare to tease me?

You moaned softly into his mouth as your tongues danced in each other's mouths. You broke the kiss and looked into his eyes. You both smiled at each other. You felt his cock press harder against your pussy. A soft moan left your lips as he picked you up and carried you to the bed. You laid down and watched as he removed his shirt. You smiled as you saw his beautiful body, the perfect skin, the slim waist and toned body.

He took his pants off and stood there. He was wearing white undies. You gasped as you saw his bulge. You wanted to touch it so bad, yearned to feel it throbbing in her hand. You dared to sit back on the bed and ran your fingers on the soft fabric. You could feel the hotness emanating from Seonghwas manhood. He was hard and stretching the undies. You smiled as you felt him twitch under your touch. From the past you knew that if you tried to fit it in your mouth, you would choke. You licked your lips as you imagined how good it would taste.

You took his underwear and slowly pulled it down. His dick sprung out and slapped against his stomach. His dick wasn’t new to you but everytime you asked yourself how this could fit your pussy. Even for your mouth this looked way too big. You slowly reached out and touched it. You stroked his cock slowly. He moaned as he felt your hand moving up and down his shaft. You stared at his dick and he slowly lowered your head towards it.

You opened her mouth and put your tongue on the tip of his cock. You could taste his precum. It was salty and sweet at the same time. You liked it. You licked his cockhead again and then moved your head lower. You licked his shaft and slowly started taking more of his cock in your mouth. You gagged as it hit the back of your throat. A beautiful moan left Seonghwa’ s lips which sent a electric shiver down your spine. You sucked on it and moved your head back and forth. You felt his cock throb in your mouth. God damn you loved it. You kept sucking his cock and moved your hand faster. You felt his balls tighten up as he got closer to cumming. Just the image that showed you could have made you come straight away. His head tilted back, his beautiful face covered with a light film of sweat, his eyes and lips pressed together. You stopped sucking his cock and held it still, admiring his very erect, ready to burst, shaft. But you did not want him to cum right now. You needed to feel him inside you.

You looked up at him, your eyes wide and pleading. He was still for a moment, as if he was unsure of what you wanted. Then he moved to the edge of the bed and you quickly turned around so that your back was facing him. You felt Seonghwa’s hand on your shoulder, slowly moving down your arm. You shivered as he touched you, his fingers brushing against the skin of your back. He moved closer to you and you could feel his breath on the back of your neck. "What do you want?" he asked, his voice low and husky. You bit your lip, trying to find the words to say. " want you," you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper. He chuckled softly and you felt his lips against the back of your neck. "I want you too," he said, his voice rough and full of desire.

He turned you around to face him, his eyes dark with lust. He pressed his lips against yours in a searing kiss, his tongue sliding into your mouth as he deepened the kiss. You moaned against his mouth, your hands sliding up to tangle in his hair. He pulled away from the kiss, his eyes dark with desire. "I want to taste you," he said, his voice low and husky. He trailed kisses down your neck, his hands roaming over your body. He reached the top of your panties and hooked his fingers into the waistband, sliding them down your legs. You stepped out of them and he tossed them aside, a look of hunger in his eyes as he took in the sight of you naked before him. In this moment you changed your mind. Yes you love it when Seonghwa eats you out his tongue is so perfect, so long and he knows how to use it. He can make you fall apart in seconds. But right now you just wanted to feel him thrust deep inside you. You griped his hair and pulled his head up so you can look him in the eyes. A little headshake and he immediately knew now it's not time for this. You need something else. You need HIM.

"I want you to fuck me. I need you to fuck me." You said with a slight whisper and he smirked at you. "You want it rough?" Seonghwa asked and your eyes widened in surprise. "Or do you want it slow?" He continued and your eyes fluttered shut as he began his descent down your body again, but this time not stopping at your thighs, instead continuing on to the wetness between them. "You're a pretty little thing." Seonghwa took his underwear off. 'I'm going to fuck you good." He said and you let out a small moan. He pushed your legs apart and licked his lips as he stared at your pussy. "You're so wet." He commented and he began to kiss the inside of your thighs, teasing you as he moved closer towards your center. He pulled you closer by your hips. You gasped as you feel Seonghwa's erection pressing against your heat.

He groaned as he felt your wetness and you let out a small moan. He grabbed your hips and slammed into you hard, making you cry out in pleasure. You could feel his cock stretching your pussy, filling it up completely. He was so big and thick, it felt like he was splitting you in half. But it felt so good. He started to move his hips, fucking you hard and fast. You could feel his cock hitting your cervix with every thrust, making you moan and whimper in pleasure. He reached down and grabbed your hips, pulling you back onto his cock. You could feel him hitting even deeper now, his balls slapping against your clit with every thrust. He was grunting and moaning as he fucked you harder and faster, his cock pounding into you relentlessly.

You was a moaning mess and this even more boosted Seonghwa's ego. He was so turned on by the way you were reacting to his cock. The way your pussy was gripping him and how wet you were getting. He could feel his orgasm building and he knew he wasn't going to last much longer. He grunted as he pulled out of you, flipping you over onto your back. He gripped your thighs and spread them apart. With a deep thrust he leaned over your back. The way you laid there under him so small and moaning just because of how good he fucks you.

Seonghwa’s dominance, how he leaned over you, pressing your body in the sheets and thrusting into you made your pussy clench. You felt his cock grow and throb inside you, and the way he moved his hips made you feel like he was fucking your soul. You felt his hands on your hips, pulling you closer to him. His fingers dug into your skin as he pounded into you.

You were his.

You felt his teeth on your neck, and the way he bit down made you moan in pleasure. His hands on your breasts, and the way he squeezed them made you feel like a woman.. You felt him thrusting into you, and the way he filled you up made you feel like a goddess. Your head began to spin and you felt how close you are to cumming. You felt his hands on your hips, and the way he held you down made you feel like a slut. "You're mine," he said as he thrust into you one last time, and that was all it took for you to cum. You moaned in pleasure as your body shuddered from the orgasm. You felt his warm cum fill you up, and it made you feel even more submissive. You loved the way Seonghwa took control of your body and used it for his pleasure. After a few moments, he pulled out of you and sat back on the bed. You felt his cum drip out of you and onto the bed. He looked at you with a smirk on his face. "You're such a good girl, taking my cock like that." You blushed and smiled back. He got up and went to the bathroom, returning with a warm washcloth. He cleaned you up gently, making sure to get every drop of cum off of you. "You're so beautiful." he said as he kissed your forehead. He helped you sit up and handed you a glass of water. "You need to drink this," he said. "I'm fine," you said, but he insisted. You took a sip and realized how thirsty you were.

You finished the glass in one gulp and handed it back to him. He set it down on the nightstand and pulled you into his arms, holding you close as your breathing returned to normal.

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez smut #seonghwa smut #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #seonghwa #ateez seonghwa

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buckets-and-trees · 2 months ago

Text

Chosen, Part 2: Lunch

Characters/Pairings: eventual Bucky x curvy Millennial Female!Reader, Natasha Romanoff, Steve Rogers Word Count: 3.2k Summary: Your day transitions from the morning tour of the interior of the Winged Heritage Foundation's estate to the grounds, followed by lunch with Natasha and Steve. You get to openly ask more questions, but the experience revealing and concealing information in turns.

SERIES Content Warnings: SOFT!DARK STORY, cult themes, explicit smut, dubious consent and enthusiastic consent, veiled truths, gaslighting

CHAPTER Content Warnings: none

Notes: No real notes here... we're still slow-burning the plot in this part.

Previous: Arrival

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

You emerge from the elevator back into the ornate splendor of the mansion's main floor, and you find yourself blinking at the abrupt transition. The juxtaposition between the futuristic underground facilities and the classical elegance above ground is jarring, to say the least.

Natasha leads you down another corridor, this one adorned with intricate tapestries depicting mythological scenes. You catch glimpses of winged creatures, celestial bodies, and figures that seem to dance between worlds.

"These tapestries are some of our most prized possessions," Natasha explains, noticing your interest. "They're said to contain hidden messages and prophecies, though their true meaning has been lost to time."

You nod, captivated by the intricate designs.

As you follow Natasha down the corridor, your eyes are drawn to one tapestry in particular. It depicts a winged figure surrounded by swirling cosmic patterns, with what appears to be a full moon prominently featured. The figure’s face is obscured, but the shrouded beauty is alluring. Studying it sends a shiver down your spine, though you can't quite put your finger on why.

"That one always catches people's attention," Natasha says, noticing your gaze. "It's said to represent our founder, though of course, that's just speculation."

You're about to ask for more details when Natasha smoothly changes the subject, guiding you towards a set of French doors that open onto a stunning terrace.

Outside, the warm sunlight caresses your skin, and a gentle breeze carries the sweet scent of blooming flowers. The gardens below are a masterpiece of landscape design, with winding paths, vibrant flowerbeds, and perfectly trimmed hedges creating intricate patterns.

"This is where we hold our outdoor events," Natasha explains, gesturing to the expansive space. "It's particularly beautiful under the moonlight."

You can't help but notice how she emphasizes the word 'moonlight', her green eyes flashing with something you can't quite decipher. Before you can dwell on it, she's moving on, leading you down a set of stone steps into the garden itself, the sweet fragrance of roses and jasmine enveloping you. The path winds through the manicured hedges and flowerbeds, and Natasha guides you past a bubbling fountain adorned with intricate carvings of mythical creatures.

"Our gardens are more than just aesthetically pleasing," Natasha explains as you walk. "Many of the plants here have been cultivated for their unique properties. Some are quite rare, others are thought to be extinct in the wild."

You pause beside a bed of flowers you've never seen before - their petals are an iridescent blue that seem to shimmer and change hue as you move.

"Beautiful, aren't they?" Natasha says, noticing your fascination. "These are known as Luna's Tears. They only bloom during the time of the full moon."

You lean in closer, marveling at the otherworldly beauty of the Luna's Tears. Their iridescent petals seem to pulse with an inner light, drawing you in. For a moment, you feel almost dizzy, as if the flowers are pulling you into their shimmering depths.

Natasha's hand on your shoulder breaks the spell. "Careful," she says softly. "They can be a bit overwhelming for some people."

You straighten up, blinking rapidly to clear your head. "They're amazing," you murmur. "I've never seen anything like them."

"They're just one of many unique specimens we cultivate here," Natasha says, guiding you away from the flower bed. "Our botanical research is quite extensive."

You can't help but notice a pattern emerging. The moon seems to be a recurring motif - in the tapestries and artwork, in Natasha's comments, and now these flowers. You wonder if there's some significance to it that you're missing.

"The full moon must be a special time here," you remark casually, hoping to probe for more information.

Natasha's eyes gleam with something that might be approval. "It is," she says. "The lunar cycle plays a significant role in many of our endeavors."

She doesn't elaborate further, instead guiding you deeper into the gardens. You pass by herb gardens filled with plants you recognize and many you don't, each section meticulously labeled and cared for.

As you round a corner, you come face to face with the entrance to a massive hedge maze. Its guarded by the statues of two wolves, their stone eyes seeming to follow you as you approach.

"Impressive, isn't it?" Natasha says, a hint of pride in her voice. "The maze is one of our most beloved features. It's said that those who reach the center will find enlightenment."

“And is the saying true?”

She arches an eyebrow at you. “Maybe you’ll have the chance to find out.”

It’s just the kind of coy answer you’ve come to expect now.

You peer into the maze, trying to gauge its size. The hedges tower over you, their dense foliage creating an impenetrable green wall. "How big is it?" you ask, unable to hide your curiosity.

Natasha's lips curl into a mysterious smile. "Bigger than it looks from the outside. Some say it changes, growing and shifting when no one's watching. But that's just a story, of course."

Standing there, contemplating the maze, a strange sensation washes over you. For a brief moment, you could swear you hear faint whispers coming from within the leafy walls, beckoning you to enter. You shake your head, attributing it to your imagination running wild after all the wonders you've seen today.

Natasha gently touches your elbow, drawing your attention away from the maze. "Perhaps we'll have time for you to explore it later," she says with a knowing smile. "For now, we should head back. It's nearly time for lunch."

As you follow her back towards the mansion, you can't shake the feeling that someone is watching you, but looking around, you don’t see anyone.

After the trek back to the mansion, the two of you ascend the steps back to the terrace, where you're greeted by yet another impressive sight that almost takes your breath away.

An elegant table has been set for three. Crystal glasses catch the light, and there’s a centerpiece of stunning white hydrangeas. Silver cutlery is arranged with military precision, flanking fine china plates adorned with delicate, hand-painted floral designs.

Steve Rogers stands beside the table, his imposing figure softened by the warm smile that lights up his face as you approach.

"Welcome back," he says, his voice warm and rich. "Did you enjoy our grounds?”

"They’re absolutely stunning," you confess easily, still a bit awestruck by everything you've seen. "I've never experienced anything quite like it."

Steve's smile broadens. "We're quite proud of our little kingdom here. Please, have a seat." He pulls out a chair for you, ever the gentleman.

As you settle into your spot, a waiter seemingly materializes out of thin air, pouring water into your crystal glass with precision. The cool liquid is a welcome relief after your walk through the gardens. In the moment, it tastes better than any glass of water you feel like you’ve had in your life, but you know that’s unrealistic, only an exaggeration of your mind and your thirst.

Natasha takes her seat across from you, while Steve sits at the head of the table. There's a moment of comfortable silence as you all arrange your napkins and take in the breathtaking view of the gardens stretching out before you.

"So," Steve begins, his blue eyes twinkling with interest, "what do you think of the Foundation so far? I hope Natasha hasn't overwhelmed you with too much information."

You take a moment to gather your thoughts, acutely aware of their attention on you. "It's been enthralling," you say, trying to find the right words. You have been shown so much, and yet you also feel as if you still don’t know why the Winged Heritage Foundation exists or what it does. "The facilities are unlike anything I've ever seen. The blend of historical preservation and cutting-edge technology is fascinating. I feel like I've only scratched the surface of what goes on here."

Steve nods approvingly. "That's exactly what we strive for here. A perfect balance between honoring the past and pushing the boundaries of the future."

As he speaks, the waiter returns, this time bearing a tray of appetizers. The dishes are works of art in themselves - delicate arrangements of colorful vegetables, artisanal cheeses, and what appears to be some kind of smoked meat.

"Please, enjoy," Natasha says, gesturing to the food. "Our chef takes great pride in using ingredients from our own gardens."

You sample the appetizers, savoring the explosion of flavors on your tongue. The vegetables are impossibly fresh, the cheese rich and complex, and the smoked meat has a depth of flavor you've never experienced before. As you eat, Steve and Natasha engage you in light conversation, asking about more about your background and interests. But as you get to the end of the appetizer course, Steve brings it back around to business.

"So, what drew you to apply to the Winged Heritage Foundation initially?" Steve asks, his tone casual but his gaze intent.

You take a sip of water, considering your answer. "To be honest, I didn’t know much before I applied - the little I knew was the Foundation's emerging reputation for excellence and I was looking for a next step with an organization that I could take pride in being a part of. The more I learn, the more fascinated I become by the scope and depth of your work here."

Natasha nods approvingly. "What aspects have you found most intriguing so far?"

You hesitate for a moment, then decide to voice the questions that have been eating away at you.

"Well," you begin, choosing your words carefully, "I've been amazed by everything I've seen today. But I have to admit, I'm still a bit unclear on the Foundation's core mission. There seems to be such a wide range of activities happening here. What exactly is the mission of the Winged Heritage Foundation?"

Steve and Natasha exchange a look, a silent communication passing between them. Steve leans forward slightly, his expression serious but not unkind.

"That's an excellent question," he says. "And I appreciate your honesty. The truth is, the full scope of our work is… complex. We operate on many levels, some of which aren't immediately apparent."

Natasha picks up where he left off. "Think of us as guardians," she says, her green eyes intense. "We preserve history, yes, but we believe that to truly understand and preserve our heritage, we need to approach it from many angles."

Steve picks up the thread smoothly. "Our founder had a vision of an organization that could bridge the gap between the past and the future. We study history not just to preserve it, but to learn from it and apply those lessons to the problems at hand.”

You nod slowly, taking in their words. "So, the research I saw downstairs, the artifacts, the gardens - they're all part of this larger mission?"

"Exactly," Steve says with an approving smile. "We use cutting-edge tools to analyze artifacts and historical data in ways that weren't possible before. But it goes beyond that. Some of our research involves… let's say, rediscovering lost knowledge. Everything here serves a purpose."

As he speaks, the waiter returns with the main course - a beautifully presented plate of what appears to be roasted game hen with seasonal vegetables. The aroma is mouthwatering.

Natasha forward in, her voice lowering slightly. "Throughout history, there have been technologies, practices, and knowledge that have been lost or hidden. We seek to uncover these secrets and understand how they might benefit us today.”

You feel a thrill of excitement at her words. The idea of uncovering lost knowledge is intriguing, but you can't shake the feeling they’re withholding something.

"That sounds fascinating," you say carefully. "But I get the sense that there's more to it than that. The level of secrecy I've observed today seems to go beyond just historical research."

Steve and Natasha exchange another look, this one lasting a beat longer. You notice Steve's jaw tighten slightly before he responds.

"You're very perceptive," he says, his voice measured. "And you're right, there is more. But understand, the nature of our work requires discretion. Not everyone is ready for the truths we uncover."

"What we do here goes beyond conventional understanding,” Natasha adds. “The knowledge we seek, the artifacts we protect - they have the potential to reshape the world as we know it. That kind of power needs to be guarded carefully."

You feel a shiver run down your spine at her words. The implications of what Natasha is saying are both thrilling and slightly terrifying. You're about to ask for more details when Steve clears his throat.

"Perhaps we've said too much," he says, his tone gentle but firm. "Let's enjoy our meal, shall we? There will be time for more in-depth discussions later, if you're the right fit for us."

You nod, understanding the subtle warning to back off for now. As you turn your attention to the exquisite meal before you, you can't help but feel a mix of excitement and apprehension. What kind of organization have you stumbled into? And more importantly, what role do they envision for you in all of this?

The conversation shifts to lighter topics as you eat. Steve regales you with amusing anecdotes about life at the estate, while Natasha occasionally chimes in with a wry comment or clarification. You find yourself relaxing despite the lingering questions in your mind, drawn in by Steve's charisma and Natasha's subtle charm.

As the waiter clears away the main course dishes, Natasha leans back in her chair, fixing you with an appraising look. "You've handled yourself well today," she says. "Many candidates find the uniqueness of our organization overwhelming."

The waiter appears once again, this time bearing a tray of desserts that look too beautiful to eat. Delicate pastries, fresh berries, and what appears to be some sort of shimmering, iridescent pudding are arranged artfully on the plate. The interruption gives you room to consider Natasha’s observation without needing to immediately respond.

You take a moment to savor a bite of the exquisite dessert. The flavors dance on your tongue - sweet, tart, and something else you can't quite place. It's delicious, and there's an underlying complexity that leaves you wanting more.

"Thank you," you start, meeting Natasha's gaze. "I have to admit, it's been a lot to take in. But I find myself more intrigued than overwhelmed, even though there's clearly so much more to learn about the Foundation."

Steve nods approvingly. "That's a good sign. We need people who can adapt quickly and maintain their composure in the face of the unexpected."

As he speaks, you notice a subtle shift in the atmosphere. The air seems to thicken slightly, and you feel a strange tingling at the base of your skull. It feels like someone is studying you again, but with the feeling coming from behind, you don’t dare to turn and look in front of Steve and Natasha.

“After lunch, you have a series of meetings with a variety of members from our organization,” Natalie shifts the focus of the conversation. “And while I don’t want to encroach on our last bit of relaxed time here, I do want to ask if you’ve had a chance to thoroughly review the elements of our proposed compensation package.”

“Oh, yes, I-”

Steve cuts in. “She’s asking because we would like you to have a pretty clear idea of whether or not you see yourself accepting a position with the Foundation after your afternoon meetings.”

You open your mouth, but close it again, unsure of how to respond.

“We’re aware that it’s an unconventional ask, but we have a unique timeline we are hoping to facilitate today. If you accept a position with us, we are hoping to extend your stay with us through this evening. There’s an event tonight where you would see so much of the Foundation’s true purpose up close and personal.”

You take a deep breath, considering your response carefully. The compensation package had been incredibly generous - almost too good to be true. And while you still have many questions about the exact nature of the Foundation's work, you can't deny the allure of being part of something so mysterious and potentially world-changing.

"I appreciate your directness," you say, meeting both Steve and Natasha's gazes. "The compensation package is certainly attractive. And everything I've seen today has been fascinating. I'm very much interested in learning more and potentially accepting a position, but..."

You hesitate for a moment, then decide to be honest. "I still feel like there's so much I don't know about what I'd actually be doing here. It's hard to commit without a clearer understanding of the role I would play."

Steve nods, a look of understanding crossing his face. "That's fair. And I admire your caution. It speaks well of your judgment. But take the afternoon, really utilize the meetings, and we’ll see where you land after that. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to be on my way to my next meeting.” Steve stands, offering a warm smile. "It's been a pleasure dining with you. I look forward to hearing how the rest of your day unfolds."

As he leaves, you're left alone with Natasha. The air seems to crackle with unspoken tension.

Natasha leans forward, resting her folded arms on the table, her voice low and intimate. "I know it feels like we're asking a lot of you. But trust me when I say that what we do here is important. World-changing, even. And we believe you could play a crucial role in that."

Her green eyes lock with yours, and for a moment, you feel as if she's looking right into your soul. There's an intensity to her gaze that both unnerves and exhilarates you.

"The afternoon meetings should help you really get a bearing on our culture," she continues. "But I want you to know that I've been impressed with you today. Your curiosity, your adaptability, your willingness to question - these are all qualities we value highly here. You are just the kind of person we are looking for to fill the position."

Your chest couldn’t help but swell at her words - the esteem she expressed for you going to your head, shooting you into the stratosphere. You knew she was playing her cards in courting you as a candidate, and yet you also knew that she didn’t say anything she didn’t mean. The thought that you had won her over, that she favored you for this position? It felt damn good to have that satisfaction surging through your blood.

“Thank you,” you finally say, a beat later. You take a deep breath and try to tamp down the adrenaline from this moment. Another sip of water helps bring you back to reality.

"Well," Natasha says, her voice silky smooth, "shall we move on to your afternoon meetings?"

You nod, rising from your seat, and follow Natasha back into the mansion.

NEXT PART: CONSIDERATION

I KNOW!

BUT THEY CAN'T TELL YOU MORE YET, OKAY?!

What do you think is going on here? What's in the maze? What are they researching? Why the horticulture? Is someone watching you - and who is it?

What's in that compensation package?

...

Will you get more info in the next installment?

Maybe.

Even if you don't, I can tell you that the pace starts to pick up more and you will be introduced to some interesting new characters.

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

#bucky barnes #steve rogers #natasha romanoff #bucky barnes x reader #curvy reader #female reader #aspen wrote something #chosen au

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himasgod · 1 month ago

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🎃How would they spend Halloween night with their partners? Inazuma! version 🎃

MONDSTADT! VERSION

LIYUE VERSION

SUMERU VERSION

Ayaka invites you to a private Halloween festival in the gardens of the Kamisato House. She has donned a traditional costume that combines elegance and a touch of mystery, reflecting her refined personality. With a lantern in hand, she leads you along a path decorated with flowers and lanterns. At one point, she takes you by the hand and, with her soft laugh, invites you to dance under the moonlight. The night is calm and serene, and every now and then, she tells you legends of Inazuma ghosts with a shy and charming smile.

Ayato turns Halloween into an elegant and entertaining celebration. He organizes a private meeting at the Kamisato Estate, where he greets you with a knowing smile, wearing a discreet but intriguing costume. During the evening, Ayato proposes a “game of intrigue” that he has planned especially for the night: a series of riddles and mysteries to solve in the gardens. In each clue, you find details that reflect his intelligence and sense of humor. The night ends with a toast under the stars, where he tells you that the best part of this celebration has been being able to enjoy it with you.

Thoma goes out of his way to create the most fun and spooky Halloween night for the both of you. He invites you on a pumpkin hunt around Inazuma, each decorated with different “ghostly” expressions that he has painted. He tells you scary stories from his childhood as you both decorate pumpkins, and it’s not long before you end up laughing. In the end, he builds a bonfire and brings out a couple of blankets so you can enjoy a warm and cozy night under the starry sky.

Sara isn’t very familiar with Halloween, but she agrees to spend the night with you. She organizes a tour of the Inazuma forests to “keep watch” and make sure everyone is safe. Although at first it seems like a patrol, she gradually relaxes and tells you about the legends of spirits and demons of the past. Every now and then, she gives you a serious look to see if you are scared, and her expression softens when she notices your trust in her. To close the night, she takes you to a cliff where you can watch the moon together, in a tranquility that Sara rarely allows herself.

Yoimiya is thrilled with Halloween and is hosting a mini-festival in the courtyard of Naganohara. She greets you in a bright, colorful costume and offers a host of games and activities, including ring tosses and a treasure hunt with candy prizes. When night falls, she sets off softly colored Halloween fireworks that light up the sky with a magical glow. With laughter and candy, Yoimiya assures you that this will be one of the happiest nights you've ever shared.

Itto gets a little too excited about Halloween and decides to host a “scare contest” for the both of you. Comically dressed in an over-the-top oni costume, he tries to scare you, but ends up being the one who gets scared by the scary stories you tell him. He then hosts a contest of strength at his base, where you are the only participant. The night is filled with laughter and jokes, and when everything calms down, Itto sits next to you, saying that Halloween is even better when he’s with you, though he won’t admit it outright.

Shinobu plans a night of scary stories at a secret location she has decorated with lanterns and candles. Dressed in a dark and elegant ninja outfit, she guides you there while joking about the hidden dangers of the night. Although she tries to scare you with anecdotes about the spookiest places in Inazuma, her company makes you feel safe. At the end of the night, she offers you a protective amulet she has made herself and smiles at you, saying that although Halloween can be spooky, with her by your side nothing can go wrong.

Raiden Ei doesn't quite understand the concept of Halloween, but decides to give you a special audience in the Shogun's hall. The atmosphere is solemn, with decorations evoking Inazuma's past, and she appears in dark, enigmatic attire. She invites you to a special tea while telling you stories about the origin of the spirits in Inazuma and the legends of her time. Although the evening is serious and mystical, there is a sense of closeness in her tone, as if she is sharing something deeply personal with you.

Yae Miko is thrilled with Halloween and decides to add her own touch of mystery and charm. She invites you to the Grand Narukami Shrine, decorated with soft lights and candles. She greets you with a mischievous smile and tells you stories of the kitsune, enjoying your every reaction. As the night progresses, she sits next to you and, in a low voice, tells you about the secrets of the Shrine and the mystical nights of Inazuma. The night ends with a gentle hug and the promise that you will always have her protection and company.

Gorou organizes a Halloween walk through the Watatsumi Island to show you the “history” of the place. Although he tries to be serious when telling legends of mysterious creatures and spirits, his innocent tone and occasional jumping around give him away. After the walk, he organizes a small bonfire, where you roast some snacks while he relaxes next to you. He eventually admits that Halloween can be a little scary, but with you by his side, he doesn’t feel so scared.

Kokomi uses Halloween as a night of respite and relaxation. She invites you on a nighttime stroll around Watatsumi Island, where she has decorated a special area with soft lanterns and sea flowers. As you walk together, she tells you about ancient legends of the island, stories that have been told for generations and that feel more real on Halloween. In the end, you sit near a moonlit waterfall, where Kokomi admits that sharing the night with you makes her feel a unique calm, as if Halloween were the perfect time to connect her stories with you.

Heizou turns Halloween into a perfect “mystery” night for the two of you. He invites you to join him on an investigation into pranks and “paranormal phenomena” that have arisen in the city. With a detective costume and a mischievous smile, he makes you follow clues and solve puzzles until you discover that he himself had planned all the “apparitions” and scares of the night. The evening is filled with laughter, and in the end, Heizou admits that the best mystery he has found is how you make every moment with him so exciting.

Here is my masterlist, in case you are interested in any more of my work or want to send me a request <3

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atlabeth · 9 months ago

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she's like the wind

knight!luke masterlist

pairing: knight!luke castellan x princess!reader

summary: you and luke get a reality check.

a/n: ive been on the hurricane train lately but knight!luke still has me in a chokehold lol so here's a lil blurb for you all! based off of this request; title from the patrick swayze song bc are you kidding me "just a fool to believe i am anything she needs" UGH you're everything she needs it's just that neither of you know it yet

wc: 1.8k

warning(s): angst lol! discussions of arranged marriages, luke is sad, princess is sad and a little mean bc she goes into princess mode, they both place their duty above their feelings </3

okay sooooo

last time we left off you and Luke had a nice lil moonlight dance in your room after you both had to get through a ball

and things have been pretty good since then! nothing is awkward between the two of you (sometimes being oblivious towards the depth of your feelings is a good thing) and you’re back to joking around w each other all the time

but you’re the princess and things can never be easy for you. Your whole day (and not to be dramatic but basically your whole life) is ruined by a private meeting with your parents.

It’s marriage. obviously it’s marriage.

Your kingdom needs allies at a moment like this and marriage is the easiest way to do it so. like. the sooner the better princess!!!

and like you KNEW it was coming. You knew there was really no way to avoid it. that doesn’t mean you naively hoped you could.

But it’s one thing for a prince to court you at a ball for the night and forget him as soon as you get home.

It’s another thing entirely for that prince and his parents to visit your kingdom and stay for a week. which is exactly what’s going to happen.

During that meeting, your parents tell you that the prince of the kingdom that held the last ball (the one that both sets of parents want you to marry, the one that gave you a tour, the one that is the most boring man alive) and his parents will be staying in the castle

And while your parents will be talking with his, trying to secure an alliance for any kind of protection, they’ve encouraged you to spend time with him, make him feel welcome, forge a bond, make him like you.

“Why?” you ask. You know the answer, you know what they’re implying, but you want them to say it out loud. You want them to resign you to this fate themselves.

“Because if all goes well, he will be courting you within the month,” your father says, and yeah, it does make you feel worse now that he’s blatantly said it. you didn’t really know what your plan was there.

“It is the best decision for all of us, darling,” your mother says.

You fight them over it. obviously. but it’s no good, and you leave the room absolutely fuming.

Thankfully, Luke is busy training, because you don’t think that you could explain this to him right now.

But you don’t tell him even when he later accompanies you to the library. Or when he asks you how your day went. Or when he asks in five different ways if you’re okay.

Luke knows something is off almost immediately when he meets up with you again because 1. he knows you. 2. you won’t look him in the eye 3. HE KNOWS YOU BFFR

but he doesn’t push it, and you’re eternally thankful.

Why, you may ask? Because you don’t want to talk to Luke about this kind of thing.

Why, you may ask again? Because you’re in love with him and don’t know it yet.

But because you don’t know it yet, you just feel weird talking about stuff like that with him. Even thinking about it around him. It was bad enough when Luke had to accompany you and the prince around the past week—you can’t imagine Luke being around when you’re trying to charm this guy.

He’s going to find out eventually, namely when said prince arrives in the castle, but you just can not bring yourself to tell him.

Thankfully, you don’t have to! Because he’s one of the kingsguard and one of the first things they do that next morning is discuss security for the incoming royal family. And even though Luke figures it all out pretty quickly, he figures it out even quicker with the immediate gossip through the servants and maids.

And listen.

He knows his place. He knows he’s a knight, he knows he’s your knight, and he knows that his duty is to keep you safe no matter what. He knows just as well as you do that you would be married off eventually, but just like you, he chose to naively ignore that fact for as long as he can.

And it’s not just you that he has a promise to—when he asked your father to let him be your personal guard, he swore himself to your protection and to stay away from you in that regard. Luke lied and said he would never think of it, but he’s had a thing for you since you were kids.

Luke guesses he thought he would get over it as he grew, but he’s only fallen harder for you with the years. He’s got himself stuck between a rock and a hard place and he’s got no one to blame but himself.

But he feels like his teeth are going to crack with how hard he clenches his jaw during the entire meeting. It was difficult enough maintaining his front while the prince showed you around the castle—Luke doesn’t know how he’s going to survive your parents’ most open attempt at arranging marriage thus far.

At least he has a reason to go see you right after. He is your guard, after all.

The bigger problem is the correct timing. Luke can tell that you’re upset the instant he’s in your proximity, and he doesn’t want to upset you further in his quest for answers.

But near the end of the day, when he’s escorted you back to your room after dinner and you’re beginning to take off your jewelry, he finally speaks up.

“Princess,” Luke said, standing in the doorway, “may I have a word?”

Your body tensed and your hands stopped on the clasp of a bracelet. You knew what was coming, but you nodded nonetheless. You didn’t know if you would be able to speak with the dryness of your throat.

You heard the door close behind you, and you busied yourself taking off the rest of your jewelry as Luke began.

“I’ve heard the royal family of Birchmund is visiting,” he said.

You wet your lips and swallowed, trying to alleviate the cotton in your mouth. “You’re correct.”

“And I’ve heard… other things,” he continued. “Of their prince. And you.”

You closed your jewelry box with a bit too much force. “The decision of my parents.”

“I figured.” Luke cleared his throat, and you still couldn’t stand to look at him. “What… what is going to happen?”

“Luke,” you started, “I don’t want to talk about this with you.”

“Please, princess,” he said. “I… merely want to know what to expect. If you are to be accompanying him most of the week, I’ll have to adjust my own schedule.”

You bit down hard on the inside of your cheek, steeling yourself before you finally turned around to face him. “My parents want me to get him on our side, Luke. It will be easier to forge an alliance if we have a good relationship, and it will be easier to—” You paused, closing your eyes for a moment before you finished. “To negotiate a marriage if he already likes me.”

And Luke just stared at you. You didn’t know what he wanted from you, why he wanted to hear you say it. Probably the same reason you wanted to hear your parents say it—to know it was truly real.

“You don’t want this,” Luke said. His voice was quieter, but his posture hadn’t changed. Always a knight.

“What I want doesn’t matter,” you said.

“You’re a person too,” he insisted. “You deserve to go after what you want.”

“I am a princess before I am a person.” You turned back around and started removing your jewelry again—you needed something to focus on. “I want what is necessary for my kingdom.”

“Princess.” Luke sounded a little desperate, now. “This— it’s so formal. This isn’t how we talk to each other. We’re friends above everything.”

Your skin burned where his fingers brushed over your neck, where he held you while you danced. Luke was your closest friend, but— but you couldn’t. You couldn’t have him so close and yearn for so much that you can never have, while the prince you might have to marry stood on your other side.

“Maybe my priorities have been wrong.” You planted your hands on your vanity to prevent them from shaking. “What I want doesn’t matter. If I can prevent a war by offering my hand, it is my duty to do so.”

“We…” you swallowed the lump in your throat and shook your head. “We cannot keep doing this. It would be an embarrassment to any prince for his betrothed to be so attached to her knight.”

“We’re friends,” Luke insisted. “We always have been. No prince that desires your hand could understand even the slightest bit of what we’ve been through together.”

“No,” you agreed. “But that means little in the scheme of everything else.”

Luke’s jaw clenched ever so slightly. “This can’t possibly make you happy.”

“What I want doesn’t matter,” you repeated, stronger this time. “This kingdom matters more than— than my childish desires. They depend on us for their protection, and I owe it to each and every one of my people to do all I can to ensure that protection.”

“Princess—” Luke started, because you both knew what you were referring to, but you held up a hand and it stopped him in his tracks.

“You are my knight,” you said. “And I am your princess. Eventually, I will be queen. My parents have told me I need to look to the future, to stop with silly trifles before they become more.”

“It’s more than that,” he said quietly. “You’re my best friend. You’re the reason I’m standing here today.”

“You act as if your duty is to die for me,” you continued. “But your duty is to keep me safe. And this is how I stay safe—by following the word of my parents and securing it myself.”

“So this is your solution,” Luke attempted. “To try and ruin our friendship in the name of a marriage you don’t want.”

“You may retire for the night, Sir Castellan,” you said, and your words rang hollow. “I’d like to be alone.”

He stared at you, dark eyes indecipherable, but he nodded and moved to the door. Before he shut it, his gaze met yours again.

“You may not care about what you want,” Luke said quietly. “But I do. And my loyalty is to you, princess. Not your parents. And certainly no prince.”

Then he bowed, and he closed the door quietly behind him.

but that night, when you settle into your silken sheets and luke takes his place in the barracks, you think of each other as you fall asleep and you dream of each other once you are.

the ties between you are not so easily broken.

#dont worry she'll realize that she's in love with him soon enough #and luke is not going to stop fighting for her no matter what he'll try to tell himself lmao #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan fic #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan headcanon #luke castellan au #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #pjo x reader #x reader #knight!luke #sadie writes

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fluffysucker · 6 months ago

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Once every few lifetimes.

Bucky Barnes x Reader

The prophecy was redone.

A/N: Written in Third POV. No use of Y/N. However, the reader is referred to as a female.Likes, comments, reblogs are VERY VERY highly appreciated. Opinions really matter to me

This could be avenger!Bucky or an AU. Whatever you like and fit your imagination

This idea sounded so good in my mind. Hopefully, it turned out fine. Please, tell me if you catch the many songs references in here

Main Masterlist

You knew you shouldn't be out here. You should be in the king-sized bed in your hotel room. You should be sleeping so you didn't miss your flight tomorrow.

But you couldn't. Even if you wanted, you wouldn't be able to. You had to do it.

The streets were empty. There was barely anyone out at this hour. Only you and a few people getting back home after a party. It was the weekend, after all.

You made it to your destination. You looked at the famous momentum. You had been here earlier this week. But at night, it was different.

There was no crowd. It was barely lit, with only the moonlight shining above it. You took in everything about the landmark. The perfectly sculptured statues. The ancient buildings behind it. The stones around it. The clear water. Everything about it, right now, felt holy.

You took small steps until you were standing right in front of it. You touched the stones at the end, moving your fingers over them slowly. The stones were worn out. Signs of age and afflictions showing.

You smiled pathetically when your fingers greased the two names with a heart between them craved on one of the stones. Their wish must have been to stay together forever.

You wished for that, too. You wish you had stayed together. You wish he would have come with you. You wish this was the trip of your dreams, like you had always planned. You wish he hadn't broken up with you at the airport minutes before your flight. You wish he would have told you earlier.

You wished your boyfriend of three years hadn't chosen your sister over you.

You wished the man who you thought was the love of your life, the man who you thought was the one, the man who you thought loved you, would have chosen you.

You wish anyone would have chosen you.

Hand on the throttle

Thought I caught lightning in a bottle

Oh, but it's gone again

And it was written

I got cursed like Eve got bitten

Oh, was it punishment?

You wiped the tear that slipped your eyes quickly, wishing the two strangers all the love and happiness in the world, hoping that at least someone had good luck.

You sat on one of the stones, letting your fingers dance in the water. You could see the large number of coins at the bottom. You thought about the lovers who made the wish to stay together forever. You thought about the lovers who got to experience this beautiful city together. You thought about all the trips, get-togethers, proposals, and honeymoons that happen in this city.

Tears gathered in your eyes as you thought about how your dreams were ruined. You thought about how you got back here again. You thought it would never happen. You thought you were finally someone's first choice.

You were wrong.

For the past week, you acted like nothing happened. You ignored all the phone calls trying to reach you and talk about it. You tried to enjoy the trip you had been crafting to perfection for years. You tried not to think about it.

But as you were lying in the hotel's bed after packing your bags, you couldn't help it anymore. That was how you found yourself here in the middle of the night.

The Trevi Fountain

During your tour earlier this week, the Italian tour guide told everyone how all wishes made on this mountain were granted. You laughed when the locals agreed with him. Every country has its own myth. Apparently, that was Italy's

But you were hopeless.

I guess a lesser woman would've lost hope.

A greater woman wouldn't beg.

You brought a coin out of the pocket in your jacket. You stood up and looked at the many statues.

Everything was finally hitting you. For a moment, you felt numb. You thought it was a dream that would end once you were back. But you knew you were waking up to a nightmare.

You were going to be back to the fact that your boyfriend and your sister had been seeing and sleeping together for a year now. The fact that your man and your own blood played you for a fool and betrayed you. The fact that the two closest people to you decided to work on their relationship after stabbing you in the back.

What could be worse than that? The fact that you didn't know how to move on. The fact that you almost slipped many times and sent them pictures during this trip. The fact that you still wanted them.

Cards on the table

Mine play out like fools in a fable, oh

It was sinking in.

Slow is the quicksand.

Poison blood from the wound of the pricked hand

Oh, still, I dream of him.

It was painful to think how, after many failed relationships, Josh, your ex-boyfriend, was supposed to be it. He was supposed to be your forever. He was the one you complained to about the tragedies of your love life. And he promised to be your fairytale ending.

But here you were. Alone. All alone.

The knife was driven so deep into your heart that you didn't know where it didn't hurt. Too many emotions invading your being.

You wanted to scream so loudly and let the pain out. But you couldn't. Because you were drained. You were sad. You were disappointed.

And I sound like an infant.

Feeling like the very last drops of an ink pen

A greater woman stays cool.

But I howl like a wolf at the moon.

And I look unstable.

Gathered with a coven around a sorceress' table

A greater woman has faith.

But even statues crumble if they're made to wait.

But most importantly, you were afraid.

Was this how your life was meant to be? Utterly alone. Were all these failed attempts at love a sign of your miserable future? How were you intended to find someone to choose you when the two people presumed to love you the most didn't? Were you doomed to only watch from the sidelines?

Were you cursed to a never-ending cycle of pain and rejection while others had their happily ever after? Were you never meant to have your person?

Were you going to stay alone like this forever? Were you going to die alone?

I'm so afraid I sealed my fate.

No sign of soulmates

I'm just a paperweight.

In shades of greige

With the coin still in your hand, you found yourself getting on your knees on the cobblestones.

Before you could try and form words to express your excruciating feelings, you dropped the coin into the water, hoping the ache was enough to deliver the message.

But you didn't stop. You had another one.

Spending my last coin so someone will tell me

It'll be ok

Still on your knees, a coin so tight between your fingers, you closed your eyes, thinking about your wish, thinking about everything, and thinking about your future.

"Please,I've been on my knees. Change the prophecy. Don't want money. Just someone who wants my company. Let it once be me. Who do I have to speak to. About if they can redo the prophecy?"

Tears streamed down your face as you finally let the pain and fear in. Sobs flew from you uncontrollably. You felt the crushing weight of the doubts and torment. Everything was hurting.

Were you destined for this agony and loneliness?

You were sitting in your boarding gate area. Every few minutes, you would look at the big screens to check that you were in the right area.

The last thing you needed was to run around before boarding or miss your flight. You were already tired enough.

You sipped on your coffee as you tried to get some energy and help with the headache. You barely got any sleep last night. Spending your last night in your dream city crying your eyes out wasn't on your bucket list. But it was what it was.

You considered staying in Italy forever, but you didn't know if you wanted to taint the city more. Also, you knew you had to go back at some point. So you preferred to rip the bandage off and get it done.

You kept looking at the phone in your hand. You had your phone on airplane mode the whole trip. And you knew it was going to blow on your face once you turned the mood off. Josh and Maddy, your sister, probably made their relationship public.

You signed before putting the phone in your bag. You weren't ready for this. You got up to get some very needed food in your system.

You only took a few steps before a brick wall hit you, making you fall to the ground. This couldn't be a man. Nobody was this heavy or strong.

"Oh, I'm so sorry." You heard as you tried to sit up.

"Barnes, watch it. Can't have you knocking girls like this." Another voice added.

"If you weren't so childish, that wouldn't have happened, Sam." The first person spoke again.

"How is your blindness my problem?" The second guy, whom you figured was called Sam, replied.

"Ma'am. Are you okay?" The first guy, Barnes, asked you.

"Yeah. Don't worry about it." You started checking around to see if all your stuff was with you.

"Here, let me help you." The guy offered you his hand when you tried to get up. You took it and gave him a small smile.

"Everything okay?" He rechecked with you as you looked at your bag.

"Yeah. Thank you." You replied, finally looking at him properly.

You had to suppress the urge to say, "Wow," out loud. He was gorgeous. He was probably the most handsome man you had ever seen. He was tall, very well built, and had the most amazing face. His features were beautiful. Blue ocean eyes. Sharp jawline. Small dimples. He was very attractive.

You coughed quickly, disguising the fact that you were checking him out.

"Sorry about your coffee." He pointed towards your cup of coffee that had spilled as you fell.

"It's no problem." You said. You were thankful that it didn't spill all over you. That really would have been your last straw.

"Let me buy you another one." He offered it sincerely.

"No, thank you. I was already on my way to get something to eat." You declined his offer politely.

"Perfect. Me too." He said it in a cheerful tone that cracked a smile on your face.

"If you agree, I would like to join you and buy the food as an apology for this." He offered again. He was insistent.

"You can join me, but you don't have to pay." You told him. It would be nice to have someone company after a week of doing everything alone.

"Oh, we will see." He was really taking this seriously.

You laughed softly as you went to get your bags before going with him, but he stopped you.

"Leave them. Sam will keep an eye on them." You turned to Sam, who had a smirk all over his face.

You tried to turn it down, but again, he insisted. You thanked Sam before leaving with the mystery man. The two men shared a couple of words that you couldn't hear before both of you left.

"I'm James, by the way. But most people call me Bucky." He told you as you started walking away. You shared your name with him as well.

"So what brings you to Italy?" Bucky asked you.

"Well, that's a long story." You laughed sarcastically.

"We have time." Bucky said it with a smile. You returned the smile, too.

The tension was high in the house. Everyone was nervous. The holiday spirit wasn't enough to overshadow the stress looming around. This was the first big family reunion after what your family chose to call 'the incident'.

You didn't bother to care when your family decided to let Maddy pass with what she did. You didn't want them to cut her off, but at least hold her accountable. But they didn't, and you didn't care.

Tonight would be the first time you saw your sister after what happened. Your lack of reaction to the news that Maddy and Josh would be at Christmas dinner made your family worried. They didn't know what to expect from you. Which made your whole family anxious about tonight.

However, what happened wasn't remotely close to anything they had in mind.

You showed up at your parents' house with a big smile and a honk of a man in your hand.

"Everyone, this is James Barnes, my boyfriend." You introduced him to them all. You could swear you heard your sister-in-law mumbling 'Yummy' under her breath. And you understood.

Nobody had expected you to have moved on and upgraded like this. But you did.

All throughout the night, everyone was surprised. You were very civilized with both Maddy and Josh, acting like nothing had ever happened.

But the bigger surprise was Bucky. He was perfect. A successful, charming gentleman. A true man. Everyone loved him.

You watched from the side as Bucky was chatting with your uncle. God, he was winning everybody over. You joined him, and his hands immediately came around your waist. He was cracking jokes as you sipped from your drink.

And in a blink of a crinkling eye

I'm sinking, our fingers entwined

Cheeks pink in the twinkling lights

Tell me 'bout the first time you saw me

I'll drink what you think, and I'm high

From smoking your jokes all damn night

The brink of a wrinkle in time

Bittersweet sixteen suddenly

"Where did you find this specimen?" Your cousin, Lily, asked as she entered the kitchen where you were currently loading the dishwasher.

"No, we need to know." When you didn't answer, your other cousin, Daisy, joined in.

"I got lucky." You weren't going to tell them how you fell for him when you first met. Literally.

"You look so happy." Lily said with a smile.

"Never been happier in my life." You answered honestly. Bucky made you the happiest.

"I thought you said the same about every man you have been with." Karen, your aunt, who always preferred Maddy to you, said. It was clear neither she nor Maddy were enjoying your new profound happiness. They expected misery from you today.

"Everybody makes mistakes. And I'm glad I didn't keep mine." You knew who she was referring to, and you refused to give her satisfaction.

"Plus, I wouldn't call them men." You smiled at her and Maddy before you left the kitchen.

You found Bucky before you could see him. He had his back to you as he was talking to your dad and brother. The mention of your name made you stop and listen.

"So, do you love her?" Your dad asked. You already said the words to each other, but you wanted to hear his answer.

"More than I have loved anyone in my life. She holds my heart in the palm of her hands. I'm completely defenseless in front of her. She owns every part of my being and soul. She is my life."

You could swear you felt your heart jump from your chest. How did you get so lucky.

Are you gonna marry, kiss, or kill me?

It's just a game, but really

I'm bettin' on all three for us two

Get my car door, isn't that sweet?

Then pull me to the backseat

No one's ever had me , not like you

"I think she is a bit annoying." Your bother said that after a couple of seconds, making the three of them laugh.

You took this as your cue to join the conversation. You gave Bucky a peck on the cheek as you wrapped your arm around him.

Tonight was the greatest Christmas you have had in years. Everyone was sitting in the living room. There weren't enough seats, so you retired to the most comfortable seat in the room. Bucky's lap.

Bucky had his arms tightly around you as you laid comfortably on his thighs. Everyone was talking. But you were in your own world.

I feel so high school every time I look at you

I wanna find you in a crowd just to hide from you

"Did you have fun?" You asked as you played with the ends of his hair.

"Yes. Your family seems lovely." You laughed at his sarcasm. Bucky had a personal vendetta with your family. You made him promise he wouldn't act on it today and to be on his best behavior. And he did.

"They all loved you." You told him. He may have to act like he liked your family, but he won them all over.

"Did you have fun, doll?" His question was more serious than yours. He was prepared to snap at them the second he felt you weren't fully okay. Bucky wanted to check that he didn't miss any signs.

"Yes. It was really fun seeing their reactions." You whispered the last part in his ear, making you both laugh.

"Nobody thought I would be bringing the hottest man on Earth." You added as you pecked his lips.

"A pretty girl like you only deserves the best of the best." Bucky kissed you

"For the record, you really had a terrible taste, doll." Bucky said this after he broke the kiss. You couldn't stop the loud laugh from escaping.

"Can't argue with that." You replied.

Of course, Bucky knew all about Maddy and Josh. You may not have told him early on in your relationship. But you told him. Which is why he didn't like your family much. They should have thrown both of them out once they knew.

As for Josh, Bucky had to physically restrain himself from punching him when he met him today. He only stopped himself because he promised you. And after meeting, God, Bucky thought Josh the worst guy that had ever lived. And Bucky had met criminals and killers

Who ,in their right state of mind, leaves you? . Who breaks your heart and hurts you like that? Who chooses anyone above you?

Bucky could never understand. Bucky would choose you in every lifetime.

"For it's worth, I heard there is some trouble in paradise." Bucky shared the gossip he heard from your cousin, Amy, with you.

"Yeah, well, I hope they figure it out." Bucky looked at you confusedly after your answer.

"What? If they wanted so badly to be together, then I hope they stay together. I wish them all the happiness." You answered honestly.

"You really don't mind?" Bucky asked you.

"Not all." You were truly honest.

"I'm actually grateful for them." You added. Bucky looked at you questioningly.

"How would I have ended up with the greatest man on the planet if they broke my heart?" You answered Bucky.

The fact that you thought Josh was the love of your life made you laugh now. That relationship was doomed from the beginning. All the signs were there, and you chose to ignore them.

However, you were truly grateful, because, now, you had Bucky. The best thing that has ever happened to you. The man who showed you what true love really looked like.

"Can't say I'm grateful for your heartbreak. But I'm so grateful for Sam's childish tendencies that led me to you." Bucky said before he kissed you.

The kiss was soft yet sweet. Both of you were reminding each other how much you loved each other. How grateful for the incident that brought you together.

Truth, dare, spin bottles

You know how to ball I know Aristotle

Brand new, full-throttle

Touch me while your bros play Grand Theft Auto

It's true, swear, scouts honor

You knew what you wanted and boy, you got her

Brand new, full-throttle

You already know, babe

"We should go to Italy together," Bucky suggested after he broke the kiss.

You looked at him with love and adoration, pouring out your eyes. You would love to go to Italy with Bucky. Experience the city like you have always dreamed.

But you wanted to go to thank those who heard you. Those who granted your wish. Those who altered your destiny. Those who changed the prophecy

"Yeah, I would love that, Bucky."

139 notes · View notes

zablife · 1 year ago

Text

I Don't Care What They Say

Tommy x female reader

Your feet ached in the tight shoes you’d borrowed from your cousin and your head throbbed with an impending headache, but you continued dancing, eyes darting to the corner of the ballroom where your aunt stood watching you with hawklike precision. As the disinterested young man who held you in his arms turned you on the dance floor, he spared you the sneer of her disapproval.

You didn’t need to look at your aunt’s pinched face to know how you were failing her. It was the end of your season and she had warned you it was time to find a husband. You had other ideas than accepting a proposal from someone you loathed just to live well. However, she constantly chided your independent nature as being stubborn and incorrigible. “Just like your mother," she often bemoaned, "far too bohemian and unladylike." You knew the burden you had become in her eyes and feared what would become of you when her patience grew thin.

As you pondered your fate, you were soon frozen by the icy stare of a stranger. Though you were unsettled by his attention at first, you found yourself strangely drawn to him the longer he watched you. You’d noticed him observing the festivities earlier, but never venturing onto the dance floor. However, it didn't surprise you as mothers were not subtle about pulling their daughters into their sides and scurrying away from him.

As the waltz ended you couldn’t hide your curiosity, wondering who this mysterious man could be. It thrilled you to see him smile at you upon your arrival, a kindness you hadn’t expected. However, you couldn’t think of a thing to say, too caught up in the moment to remember your manners. Luckily the gentleman before you took the lead, offering you a glass of champagne and a tour of the gardens.

The moment you exited onto the terrace, alone with the nameless man, your courage evaporated and your footsteps stalled. Noticing your hesitation, he offered his hand along with an introduction. “I"m Thomas Shelby,” he said confidently, a chuckle rumbling from deep within his chest when you unconsciously shrunk from him.

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

“I’ve heard rumors…about all the bad things you do,” you admitted, fumbling with your gloves. “My aunt says you’re a very dangerous man,” you whispered in hushed awe.

Looking thoroughly unbothered, he fished his cigarette case from his pocket. Carefully selecting a cigarette, he asked, “And what do you think?”

You considered him for a moment as he rubbed it against his bottom lip before lighting it, mesmerized by his every movement. “I don’t know you at all,” you demurred.

“I’d like to get to know you,” he admitted intently holding your gaze as he added, “That’s why you should know what they say is true.”

“Oh,” you exclaimed breathlessly, surprised he would admit to being a gangster so freely.

Tommy couldn’t miss the way your eyes darted back toward the door and the safety of the warm ballroom. “Does that frighten you?” he asked, turning his head to blow smoke out into the chilly evening air. He calmly awaited your reply, watching as the tendrils of smoke curled and drifted toward the heavens.

Feeling yourself pulled by the invisible thread of his magnetism, you moved toward him slowly until you were face to face. In that moment, you found yourself more wonderstruck than afraid. Here was someone who stood on the outskirts of polite society unconcerned by the opinions of others.

“No, I don’t care what they say,” you ventured, wondering how he might respond to your bold reply.

As the clouds parted and the moonlight struck Tommy’s angular jawline, you could clearly see a faint smile appearing, an amused twinkle in his eye glinting back at you approvingly. Flicking his cigarette away, Tommy cupped your cheek in his large palm and your breath hitched. “And what would your aunt do if she heard you?,” he teased with raised eyebrow.

“She wouldn’t like it very much. She thinks I’ve brought enough scandal to the family being unmarried at my age," you explained.

He nodded thoughtfully before dipping his head to brush his lips against yours. When you melted into him, he pulled you deeper into his embrace, devouring you in a passionate kiss. A moan escaped your throat when he finally pulled away, looking at you mischievously with lust blown pupils.

“Scandalous enough for your dear aunt?” he asked in a low voice that made your stomach flip.

“She’ll probably disown me,” you murmured, biting your lower lip.

“Then you’re free to be mine,” he hummed, gently rubbing a thumb across your cheek.

“I like that idea,” you said with a giggle. You laced a hand behind his neck for another kiss as the clouds closed back over the pale moon.

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

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#Peaky Blinders fanfic #Peaky Blinders imagine #Tommy Shelby fanfic #Tommy Shelby imagine #Tommy Shelby x you #Tommy Shelby x y/n #Tommy Shelby x reader #Tommy Shelby #Cillian Murphy

390 notes · View notes

mjwhisperer · 2 months ago

Text

𝙸𝚗𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚎 𝚈𝚘𝚞

1983

New York City

Word Count: 11.7k

Tags: Fem!Reader, Writing, Smut, Wet & Messy, creampie, Michael’s big pp, rough seggs, Nipple licking, nipple play, Dirty talk, Finger Sucking, Vaginal Fingering, p in v, oral seggs, married couple, face slapping

The stillness of the suite wrapped itself around you like a comforting shroud, broken only by the faint flicker of a candle across the room. Its soft flame danced on the polished table, casting a warm glow over the rich, dark tones of the space. You lay stretched out on the velvet sofa, your body adorned in a champagne satin nightgown that clung delicately to your curves, the smooth fabric cool against your skin. The scent of cocoa butter and vanilla lingered in the air, a subtle reminder of your evening ritual. Moonlight spilled through the open balcony doors, bathing the room in a pale, ethereal light as it kissed your skin, making the satin shimmer with every subtle movement.

Your journal rested on your thighs, pencil poised between your fingers as you poured your thoughts onto the page, losing yourself in the fantasy of words. “His gaze flickered with a deeper intensity, something raw and unspoken. He sat up slightly, the heat of his body still pressed against yours, hands traveling to the hem of your shirt. With a fluid, practiced motion, he lifted it over your head, the fabric gliding against your skin before it fluttered to the floor. The room’s cool air touched your bare skin, but it lasted only a moment before his hands replaced the chill, warm and possessive, cupping your breasts with deliberate tenderness.” You wrote, the scene in your mind so vivid, so tantalizingly real that it sent a shiver down your spine.

You often wrote in these quiet moments of solitude, documenting your life and desires through another lens, another version of yourself. Michael had no idea you penned these kinds of stories—journals filled with lustful, uninhibited fantasies that captured the intimacy you craved, yet hadn’t fully explored. The pages brimmed with moments you yearned to experience firsthand. Your mind, always a step ahead of reality, danced with ideas too wild to remain unspoken, so you committed them to paper, where they could live freely.

A sigh escaped your lips as you paused, fingers tracing the edge of the journal. Something about tonight’s writing wasn’t sitting right, the words not flowing the way you had imagined. Frustration tugged at the edges of your thoughts. Closing the journal softly, you leaned forward, the cool satin slipping against the cushions as you stretched to blow out the candle. Darkness reclaimed the room for a brief moment before you padded across the suite, fingertips brushing along the wall as you flicked on the lights. The sudden brightness felt harsh after the warmth of the candlelight.

The clock on the wall read midnight, and still, Michael hadn’t returned. He had left early that morning, spending the day with his family, preparing for the tour announcement. He’d stopped by the suite briefly between meetings, giving you a quick kiss and promising to return late. You didn’t mind his absence; in fact, you relished these moments alone. They allowed you to retreat into your own world, a world of words and fantasy—an escape from the whirlwind of fame and expectations that had swept you up after your marriage to Michael.

But even in this quiet, there was a subtle ache, a longing for him to walk through the door, for the stories you wrote to come to life. You glanced down at your journal once more, the pages filled with desires that you wished to share, yet kept secret.

You walked slowly, deliberately, each step bringing you closer to the bedroom you and Michael shared. The air was different here, charged with his presence. His intoxicating cologne still clung to the air, subtle yet unmistakable. It wrapped around you, a phantom touch, making you pause in the doorway to breathe him in deeply, letting the familiar scent fill your senses. You ached for him, more intensely now that you stood in the space where his absence was most profound. But fatigue began to settle in, exhaustion creeping over you like a heavy fog, dragging at your limbs.

With a soft click, you closed the bedroom door behind you, plunging the room into a peaceful, moonlit glow. The silver light spilled through the curtains, casting soft shadows on the walls and floor, bathing the room in an ethereal stillness. Slowly, you made your way to your side of the bed, setting your journal and pencil down on the nightstand. The thick, white covers felt cool beneath your fingers as you pulled them back, slipping under their weight. The contrast of the crisp linen against the warmth of your skin sent a shiver through you, the sensation drawing you deeper into the arms of sleep. Your eyelids grew heavier, fluttering shut as the last traces of consciousness slipped away.

Even as you drifted into sleep, your mind wandered, drawn back to the stories you had written. You could feel his touch in your dreams, so vivid it sent your pulse racing. His hands ghosted over your skin, the soft press of his lips igniting sparks of heat in your chest. His whispers, low and full of need, echoed in your ears, pulling you deeper into the dream, deeper into the scenes you had created. Each kiss, each caress, felt more real than the last. This was your inspiration, the fuel for those lustful scenes that seemed so distant while awake but came alive in the sanctuary of your mind.

Outside the suite, Michael moved silently down the hotel hallway, his steps muted against the plush carpet. His body was tired, worn from the demands of the day, but his mind was still buzzing, his thoughts on you. He pulled his keycard from his pocket, sliding it into the door with a practiced motion. The door clicked open, and he stepped inside, the quiet of the room greeting him like a familiar embrace. He shut the door gently, locking it behind him with a soft click before calling out into the empty suite.

“Baby?” His voice was low, filled with the weight of the day, but there was a tenderness in it as he looked around, noticing your absence. He kicked off his loafers, sliding them next to your heels, the sight of your shoes sparking a smile. His fingers deftly unbuttoned his sleek Monroe jacket as he crossed the room, heading for the closet. With careful movements, he hung up his jacket, smoothing out the fabric before closing the closet door with a quiet sigh.

“Baby, where are you?” he called again, this time louder, though he already sensed the answer. Silence greeted him, the stillness of the suite confirming what he had suspected—you were asleep.

He flicked off the light in the main room, casting the suite into near darkness, save for the soft light of the moon. As he walked down the hallway toward the bedroom, he unbuttoned his flannel shirt, his fingers moving automatically as he thought of you. Reaching the bedroom door, he paused for a moment, his hand resting on the knob. He twisted it open, stepping inside to find you already asleep, curled under the covers, your breathing soft and even.

“Damn,” he muttered under his breath, guilt prickling at him for staying out so late. He crossed the room quietly, his eyes softening as he watched you sleep, the peaceful rise and fall of your chest a soothing sight after the chaos of the day. He knelt down beside the bed, brushing a strand of hair from your face, his fingers trailing lightly over your cheek. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice low and full of remorse. His touch lingered for a moment before his gaze drifted to the nightstand.

There it was—your journal, lying innocently on the nightstand, its soft leather cover worn from your fingers grazing it over and over. Michael’s brow furrowed, curiosity igniting within him like a spark catching fire. You had always been private, guarding your thoughts like hidden treasures, sharing only what you chose, leaving the rest locked away. That journal… it had intrigued him for months. The way you clutched it so tightly, as if its contents were too precious to be seen, only fueled his desire to know what was inside. What secrets did it hold? What dreams, what desires had you poured into its pages?

His fingers hovered just above the smooth leather, the temptation gnawing at him. He knew he shouldn’t. But he couldn’t resist. Slowly, he picked it up, the weight of it feeling heavier in his hands than he anticipated. The quiet crackle of the binding filled the room as he carefully opened it, the faint scent of ink and paper wafting up. Thousands of words greeted him—tiny, intricate letters sprawled across the pages, some flowing gracefully, others rushed and jagged, as though written in a fevered state. His eyes roamed over the pages, catching glimpses of dates scattered here and there, some adorned with delicate little hearts—marking nights he recognized, nights filled with passion.

He couldn’t help but smirk, a rush of pride swelling within him as he read the first few lines. The words were vivid, so descriptive they painted entire scenes in his mind. You had never shared this side of yourself with him—your ability to capture emotion and sensation so deeply, so beautifully. It was as though he were discovering a new part of you, one he had never known existed. The detail in your writing stunned him. Each paragraph held him captive, some recounting moments of tender intimacy, others written with a raw, sensual edge that left his breath shallow.

He flipped through the journal, his eyes darting over the passages, heart racing. There were stories that transported him to the nights you had shared together—moments he remembered vividly. Some were soft and romantic, full of slow kisses and whispered words. Others were rough, intense, wild with the kind of passion that left both of you breathless and trembling. He found one that made him pause, a story of your honeymoon. His heart skipped as he read about the balcony—how he had taken you there under the stars, the way you had described the heat of his hands on your skin, the thrill of being outside, exposed to the night.

He could practically feel the cool breeze, smell the salt of the ocean air, and hear the soft crash of waves as he read, transported back to that night. You had captured every detail so perfectly, so vividly, that it was like living it all over again. His pulse quickened as he reached the final few pages, only to find that the last entry was unfinished. Barely a few lines were written. His brow furrowed again, wondering what had stopped you. Had you lost inspiration? Or had sleep claimed you before you could complete the thought?

Michael closed the journal slowly, his thumb tracing the edge of the cover one last time before setting it back down on the nightstand with a soft thud. He glanced over at you, lying peacefully under the covers, your chest rising and falling with the rhythm of sleep. The sight of you—so serene, so beautiful—pulled him in. Leaning down, he pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek, his lips lingering for a moment, breathing you in.

“I’m back,” he whispered, his voice low and soft, just for you.

You stirred at the sound of his voice, your eyelids fluttering open as you blinked into the dim light of the room. The sight that greeted you was the one you had longed for—the warmth of his presence, the familiar silhouette of his frame leaning over you, and those deep brown eyes that always seemed to draw you in, no matter how tired you were.

“Hi, pretty girl,” he murmured, his voice tender, a slow smile spreading across his face.

A soft smile tugged at your lips as you whispered back, “Hi,” your voice barely above a breath, still heavy with sleep. You shifted slightly under the covers, feeling the warmth of his closeness. “When did you get back?” you asked, blinking the drowsiness from your eyes.

“Not too long ago,” Michael said, his gaze soft, watching you closely. He straightened up slightly, undoing the last few buttons of his flannel shirt, revealing the toned lines of his bare chest beneath. You glanced down, your eyes tracing the familiar curves and muscles of his body, the way the soft light played over his skin. But before your gaze could linger too long, you quickly lifted your eyes back to his, heat creeping up your cheeks.

Michael’s smile grew wider, his eyes twinkling with a familiar mischief that always seemed to surface when he caught you off guard. He had seen the way your gaze had drifted over his chest, and even though you quickly looked away, the effect it had on him was instant. There was something intoxicating about the way you responded to him, even in your sleepy state. That subtle flicker of desire in your eyes, though fleeting, stirred something deep within him. The warmth that surged through his veins was undeniable, and his voice, though soft, was laced with something deeper when he spoke again.

“I missed you,” he murmured, his words carrying the weight of the long day apart, but also a deeper, more primal need. His hand moved almost instinctively, reaching down to gently brush a loose strand of hair from your face. His fingers, rough yet tender, grazed your skin, and the contact sent an involuntary shiver down your spine, the sensation rippling through you like a spark.

Your eyes fluttered closed briefly at his touch, the exhaustion of the day momentarily forgotten. “I missed you more,” you whispered, your voice soft, barely audible in the quiet intimacy of the room. But it was enough. The way your words reached him, full of longing, made Michael’s heart swell with something warm, something electric.

He licked his lips, his gaze flickering briefly from your face to the journal still resting on the nightstand. There was a glimmer of something in his eyes—curiosity, playfulness, and something else you couldn’t quite place. “Need some help?” he asked, his tone teasing yet somehow serious, his voice dipping into that low, husky register that always made you weak.

You furrowed your brow, confused. “What do you mean?” you asked, your voice soft but wary. The way he looked at you, his gaze dipping briefly to the journal, set off a ripple of unease in your chest. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but something about his tone had shifted.

“Do you need help?” he repeated, his eyes locked onto yours, his voice steady, though there was an edge of amusement beneath the surface.

The confusion deepened in your expression, your brow knitting together as you sat up a little, pulling the covers away from your body. “Michael, what are you talking about?” you asked, your voice firmer now, laced with frustration. You shifted, sitting up completely, the cool air of the room brushing against your skin as you moved.

Michael’s eyes flicked back to the journal, and then back to you. His gaze lingered there for a moment too long, and that’s when it hit you. Your breath caught in your throat, panic flashing in your eyes as you followed his gaze, realization dawning on you. “Did you go through it?” you asked, your voice rising in disbelief, your heart pounding in your chest.

Michael shrugged, a casual, almost guilty smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You know I can’t help myself, doll,” he said, his voice laced with a hint of mischief. “Besides, you’ve got, what? Twenty journals? Maybe more? And I’ve never seen a single word from any of them. So, I gotta ask again… do you need help?” His voice lowered slightly, the question carrying a weight that made your pulse quicken.

You let out a deep sigh, frustration mixed with something else—something you didn’t quite want to admit. Reaching over, you grabbed the journal from the nightstand, your fingers brushing over its familiar leather cover as you flipped through the pages. “I do,” you admitted reluctantly, glancing up at him through your lashes. “I’m stuck on this one part, and I—Michael!”

Before you could finish your sentence, he reached out, snatching the journal from your hands with a quickness that took you by surprise. The leather-bound book slipped from your fingers, and Michael closed it with a soft thud, placing it back on the nightstand. His movements were fluid, confident, almost too confident, as though he knew exactly what he was doing.

“You’ve already got the writing part down,” he said, his voice low and teasing as he leaned closer to you, the weight of his presence filling the room. “Do you need my help with the rest?”

Your brow shot up in surprise, confusion flickering across your features once more. “I don’t get what you’re saying, Michael,” you murmured, your voice tinged with curiosity and something else—something that sent a strange thrill down your spine. “I’m confused.”

Michael’s smile deepened, that playful glint in his eyes turning darker, more intense. He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, “You’re writing about us, aren’t you?” His lips barely grazed the shell of your ear, sending a shiver coursing down your spine. His hand slid gently up your arm, his fingers trailing along your skin, igniting every nerve they touched. “Every scene, every detail…” His voice was a low, seductive rumble now, and you could feel the heat radiating off him, pulling you in.

Your heart raced, your breath catching in your throat as his words sank in. Of course, he knew. How could he not? You had written those stories for him, even if you had never planned to show him. Every intimate moment, every fantasy, every desire—crafted with him in mind. The way he looked at you now, with that mix of hunger and understanding, made your stomach twist in knots.

Michael’s gaze was piercing, darkened with a hunger that sent a tremor through you. His voice, a low whisper that seemed to wrap itself around your senses, was barely audible, but the intent behind it was unmistakable. “Let me help you finish it,” he murmured, his breath ghosting over your lips as his fingers gently tilted your chin upward. The subtle pressure of his touch made your pulse quicken, his thumb brushing against your skin in the lightest of caresses. “Let me show you exactly what you’ve been writing about…” His words hung in the air, thick with promise.

Your eyes searched his for a moment, feeling the pull of his presence as the world around you seemed to blur and fade. Everything was him—the heat radiating off his body, the intensity of his gaze, the magnetic force that drew you closer, inch by inch. Your eyes flickered down to his lips as they hovered near yours, and you felt the irresistible pull of him moving in, slowly, deliberately. His other hand found your waist, the warmth of his palm seeping through the thin fabric of your nightgown, and the contact sent a spark of anticipation racing down your spine.

“Let me inspire you,” he whispered, his voice low and intimate, the words curling around your thoughts like a seductive whisper in the dark. His hand gently lifted your chin a fraction more, and before you could respond, his lips brushed against yours in the faintest, most tantalizing touch.

Then he kissed you—slowly at first, but with a growing intensity that left no room for doubt. His lips, warm and smooth, moved against yours, soft yet commanding, drawing you deeper into the moment with every passing second. The taste of him was intoxicating, the warmth of his breath mingling with yours as the kiss deepened. Your body responded instinctively, your lips moving in sync with his, matching his rhythm, as the kiss grew hotter, more urgent.

His hand slid from your waist, traveling slowly up the curve of your body, tracing the familiar lines with a possessive touch that made your skin tingle. The strength in his grip was unmistakable—large, powerful hands that knew every inch of you, knew exactly where to touch to make you arch beneath him. His fingers squeezed you in all the right places, eliciting a soft gasp from your lips as he lowered you back onto the bed, your body sinking into the softness of the sheets. The sensation of his touch was electric, his hands firm yet gentle, each caress deliberate, teasing, as if he was savoring the feel of you beneath his fingertips.

The kiss deepened further, the heat between you intensifying as his tongue slid against yours, teasing, exploring. The wet sound of your lips moving together filled the room, mingling with the soft rustling of the sheets as you shifted beneath him. Every brush of his lips, every stroke of his tongue, sent a surge of heat pooling low in your belly, making your breath hitch as the moment stretched on.

Michael’s hands moved lower, trailing down to your thighs, gripping them firmly as he positioned himself between your legs. His touch was possessive, his fingers tightening around your skin as he slowly pushed your nightgown higher, the fabric bunching up around your hips, revealing the soft curve of your bare skin beneath. The cool air hit your exposed flesh, a sharp contrast to the heat radiating from his body, and you felt your pulse quicken, anticipation coiling tight in your chest.

His lips broke away from yours, only to trail down to your jaw, placing slow, deliberate kisses along your skin. The sensation was almost torturous—the softness of his lips, the heat of his breath, the way his tongue flicked out to taste you, leaving a trail of warmth in its wake. He kissed his way down your neck, his lips moving with a languid, teasing rhythm, lingering in all the right places. When his mouth found the sensitive spot at the base of your throat, he sucked lightly, his teeth grazing your skin, sending a sharp jolt of pleasure through your body.

“Michael…” you breathed, your voice barely a whisper as you tilted your head to the side, giving him full access. The sound of your voice, soft and filled with need, seemed to spur him on. His lips moved lower, placing wet, open-mouthed kisses along your collarbone, his tongue flicking out to trace the delicate line of your bone, each touch sending shivers racing down your spine.

His hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer to the edge of the bed as he pressed himself against you, his body a solid weight that anchored you in place. The rough denim of his jeans brushed against your sensitive skin, the pressure of his growing arousal evident as he pressed harder, the heat of him seeping through the fabric. The friction sent a jolt of pleasure straight through you, making you gasp as your body instinctively arched toward him, craving more.

Michael’s lips hovered near your ear, his warm breath grazing your skin, each word laced with thick desire. “I want to feel all of you,” he whispered, his voice low and rough, igniting something deep inside you. His hands roamed your body with a slow, deliberate pace, every touch sending sparks of heat rippling through your skin, lighting every nerve aflame. You could feel the weight of his presence pressing against you, a heavy, intoxicating heat that had you teetering on the edge of something that felt both inevitable and all-consuming.

Unable to resist, you ground your hips against him, the friction delicious as you pressed more firmly into his body. Michael’s hands trailed down to your waist, his grip firm and possessive as he reached for the hem of your nightgown. With one smooth motion, he pulled the fabric up and over your head, the cool air rushing over your now-bare skin as his gaze drank you in. His eyes darkened with admiration, his voice barely a whisper as he murmured, “So beautiful…”

His lips descended on the middle of your chest, pressing warm, tender kisses along your skin. His hands followed the curve of your body, gliding up your stomach until they reached your breasts, cupping them in both hands. His thumbs moved in slow circles, teasing your nipples, coaxing soft gasps from your lips. You watched him, mesmerized by the way his hands seemed to worship every inch of your body. His kisses continued, traveling lower down your stomach, his tongue flicking out to leave a wet, heated trail that made your skin tingle with anticipation.

When his mouth finally found your breast, you sucked in a breath, your body arching slightly as his warm tongue replaced his thumb. He circled your nipple with slow, deliberate licks, his tongue teasing the sensitive bud before taking it into his mouth. The warmth of his mouth, coupled with the gentle tug of his lips, sent a shudder of pleasure through you. He sucked lightly, then harder, his tongue flicking back and forth in a steady rhythm that made your head spin.

You watched him through half-lidded eyes, unable to look away from the way his lips moved against you. His tongue swirled around your nipple, then flicked it back and forth, the sensation so intense you could feel every wet stroke of his tongue. His teeth grazed the sensitive flesh, nibbling just enough to send jolts of pleasure shooting through your core.

“Oh, God, Michael,” you moaned softly, your voice shaky with need.

He hummed in response, the vibration against your skin adding another layer of sensation. His hand squeezed your breast more firmly as he continued to flick his tongue slowly, sensually, drawing out your pleasure until you felt like you might burst from the tension building inside you. You met his gaze, watching the way his lips wrapped around your nipple, the way his tongue teased and tasted, each flick and nibble driving you further into a haze of desire.

He moved to your other breast, giving it the same attention, his lips warm and wet as he sucked the nipple into his mouth. His tongue flicked over the sensitive bud, each stroke steady and deliberate, his saliva coating your skin as he lavished it with the same slow, torturous care. The pleasure was almost overwhelming, his touch both teasing and satisfying, his pace slow enough to make you ache for more.

Your pulse quickened, each beat of your heart in sync with the heat building between your thighs. Every movement of Michael’s hands and mouth sent waves of desire coursing through you, his kisses lingering on your skin, his touch deliberate, as though he knew exactly how to keep you teetering on the edge of pleasure. His lips, warm and wet, left a trail of heated bliss across your chest, your stomach, down your body. Each flick of his tongue, every gentle nibble and graze, was a deliberate tease, designed to make you crave more. And it was working.

Your breath was coming in shallow, uneven gasps, your chest rising and falling rapidly with the anticipation, the tension building to a fever pitch inside you. It was as though your entire body was attuned to him, each nerve alight and buzzing with the promise of release. Michael’s mouth trailed lower, the heat of his breath skimming over your skin until he reached your core. His eyes darkened at the sight of how wet you were, his gaze locked on your arousal, as if savoring the evidence of your need.

He grabbed your legs and gently pinned them back, folding you into yourself as he positioned your knees against your chest. His voice was low, intimate as he murmured, “Think you can hold them?”

You nodded, your hands sliding to the back of your knees, gripping them tightly, your pulse thrumming in your ears.

Michael ran his fingers down the slick heat of your slit, his touch feather-light, but enough to make you shudder. “So wet…” he whispered, his voice filled with awe as he spread your folds, his thumb finding your clit with precise ease. His thumb circled it slowly, teasingly, drawing out the tension building inside you as he watched your reaction with dark, hungry eyes. Your brows furrowed as pleasure coursed through you, your hips twitching in response to his touch.

He raised his hand to his mouth, his eyes never leaving yours as he licked each finger clean, tasting you with a slow, deliberate flick of his tongue. The sight of him savoring you sent a fresh wave of arousal surging through you, your body trembling in anticipation.

Michael coated his fingers with saliva before sliding them back between your folds, his movements teasingly slow. He eased his middle and ring finger into your entrance, the sudden stretch making you gasp, your walls immediately clenching around him. His free hand pressed down on your thigh, holding you in place as his fingers began to move inside you with a slow, deliberate rhythm, each stroke designed to drive you wild.

Your arousal slicked his fingers, dripping down into the palm of his hand as he pumped them in and out of you. He watched your face intently, his gaze unwavering as your lips parted in breathless whispers of his name. The sight of you coming undone beneath him, your body writhing in pleasure, only fueled his desire.

His fingers curled just right, finding that sweet spot deep inside you that made your vision blur, your breath catch. Your head fell back against the pillow, a moan slipping from your lips as he hit that perfect angle over and over again. “You like that, baby?” he asked, his voice rough with desire.

“Yes,” you gasped, your legs shaking as you struggled to hold them steady.

Michael’s lips curved into a wicked smile as he lowered his head, his mouth finding your folds. His tongue flicked out, teasing your clit with quick, light strokes, the sensation sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. You moaned, louder this time, unable to contain the surge of heat that shot through you.

His tongue danced over your clit, his fingers still working you relentlessly, each thrust perfectly timed with the flick of his tongue. He hummed against you, the vibration adding to the intense pleasure already building in your core. He sucked on your folds, pulling your lips into his mouth, the wet sound echoing in the quiet room, so obscene and delicious.

Michael pulled back for a moment, his eyes roaming over your swollen, red folds before he spread them open again, exposing your clit. Without hesitation, he sucked it into his mouth, his lips wrapping around the sensitive nub as he flicked his tongue over it at a maddening pace. His fingers continued their relentless rhythm, the wet sounds of your arousal only spurring him on.

You could feel that familiar, tight burn building in your belly, the tension coiling tighter and tighter as Michael pushed you closer to the edge. Your walls clenched around his fingers, slick with arousal, so tight that you felt like you could snap at any moment. His tongue worked faster, his fingers curling deeper, hitting that spot again and again until your body trembled uncontrollably.

You bit down on your bottom lip, your breath coming in ragged gasps as your release teetered on the brink. Michael looked up at you, his dark, seductive eyes locking with yours, his gaze pulling you in, drowning you in the intensity of the moment. “Michael, I’m going to—” you started, your voice faltering as the pleasure became too much.

Before you could finish, the orgasm crashed over you, your moans filling the room as your body convulsed beneath him. Your release flooded his hand, a milky sheen coating his fingers as you called out his name, your back arching off the bed. The pleasure was overwhelming, every nerve in your body alight, your senses overloaded by the intensity of it all.

Michael didn’t stop. His tongue continued its relentless assault on your sensitive clit, flicking over it in maddening circles. Each stroke sent another surge of pleasure through your already trembling body, your legs feeling as if they might give out from the intensity. Every nerve was alive, every part of you burning with the overwhelming sensation he was drawing out from deep within. You gasped his name, the sound raw and breathless, as you surrendered completely to the bliss.

Slowly, his fingers slipped from inside you, leaving behind an aching emptiness that only heightened the throbbing between your thighs. But he didn’t stop, his mouth still working you with an almost torturous precision, sucking and flicking at your swollen clit, his lips glistening with the evidence of your arousal. As he moved, his hand, drenched in your juices, slid up your body, fingers brushing against your lips. Without hesitation, you opened your mouth, taking them in, tasting yourself on him. The salty sweetness of your arousal mixed with the faint taste of him, sending a fresh wave of desire through you.

God, he was so filthy, so unashamedly nasty in the way he claimed every part of you. And you loved it.

His mouth released your clit with a final, slow suck, the soft pop of his lips leaving a trail of wetness dripping down his chin, his eyes locked on yours with a dark, hungry satisfaction. You moaned softly, still coming down from the high, your body feeling like liquid, every muscle relaxed in the aftermath of the orgasm he had so expertly drawn out of you.

With a gentle tug, he removed your hands from the back of your knees, lowering your legs from their pinned position. They hung loosely over the edge of the bed, trembling slightly as you caught your breath. Michael watched you with a quiet intensity, letting you have that moment to come down, to feel the lingering pleasure still humming through your veins.

Once your breathing steadied, Michael extended a hand, pulling you effortlessly to your feet. His grip was firm yet gentle as he led you, step by step, backward until he sat down in the leather armchair across the room. The smooth leather creaked under his weight, and you stood there for a moment, gazing down at him, the room filled with the heavy scent of sex.

His arousal was undeniable, straining beneath the fabric of his jeans, the heat of it palpable even before you touched him. With a slow, deliberate movement, you sank down onto your knees, the soft rug cushioning your legs as you knelt before him. Your hands slid up the length of his thighs, feeling the hard muscle beneath the denim, your fingers brushing over the bulge that begged for release. He twitched under your touch, his breath hitching as you moved your hands to his belt.

The sound of the buckle being undone echoed in the room, metallic and sharp in contrast to the otherwise silent atmosphere filled only with your shared heavy breathing. You pulled the belt free, tossing it aside without care, your focus entirely on the task ahead. Slowly, you unbuttoned his jeans, each pop of the buttons adding to the growing tension between you. His fingers slid through your hair, brushing against your scalp as he watched you, his dark eyes half-lidded, burning with desire.

The sound of the zipper coming undone was loud in the otherwise quiet room, and your fingers trembled with anticipation as you pulled his jeans down over his hips, revealing the hard, toned lines of his legs. You tugged them down further, finally freeing him from the confines of the fabric, tossing them aside where they landed in a crumpled heap.

Your eyes were drawn back to the straining bulge in his briefs, the white linen barely containing his hardened length. With a teasing smile, you hooked your fingers into the waistband and slowly pulled them down, watching as his thick, dark shaft began to emerge, the skin taut and smooth, the tip glistening with anticipation. His cock sprang free, resting heavily against his stomach, the weight of it making your mouth water with desire.

You pulled the briefs all the way off, adding them to the pile of discarded clothes scattered across the room. Michael spread his legs wider, inviting you to settle between them. Your eyes roamed over his shaft, thick and veiny, the dark skin stretched tight over the hardness beneath, the tip flushed a deep, tempting pink. His shaft was perfect, heavy, and uncut, the curve of it something you adored, something that always made you shiver with anticipation.

Michael watched you, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as you admired him. He knew the effect he had on you, knew how much you loved the sight of him like this—so ready, so hard for you. He held out his hand, palm open, and without a word, you leaned forward, spitting into his hand, watching as he wrapped his fingers around his length, stroking himself slowly. The slick sound of his hand moving over his shaft was intoxicating, his veins pulsing beneath his grip as he exposed the swollen head, the tip peeking out, a bead of pre-cum glistening in the dim light.

“You want it?” he asked, his voice low and teasing, as he waved his length back and forth, the thick shaft brushing against your lips. Your eyes followed the motion, unable to tear your gaze away, your breath catching in your throat.

“Yes, Michael,” you whimpered, your voice barely more than a plea.

He moved closer to the edge of the chair, his length inches from your face, the heat of it radiating toward you. “Take what you need, baby,” he murmured, his tone soft but commanding. “Inspire yourself.”

With a soft smile tugging at your lips, you bit down gently, your teeth grazing the tender flesh as your hand reached up to wrap around the base of his thick length. Your fingers stretched, barely managing to encircle him, the girth of him too much for your small hands. But that only fueled your desire, the ache of wanting to take all of him coursing through you as your gaze locked on his. Slowly, you leaned forward, parting your lips to press a soft, teasing kiss against the tip of his swollen shaft. The salty sweetness of his pre-cum tingled on your tongue, igniting your senses, making your body tremble with anticipation as you prepared to take him deeper.

“Go ahead, baby,” Michael whispered, his voice low and husky. His hand moved through his hair, pushing the dark curls away from his face, his eyes never leaving yours. The heat of his gaze made your skin burn, and you stroked him slowly, your hand sliding over the slick, hot skin, exposing the swollen tip even more.

You flicked your tongue out, rolling it lightly against his sensitive tip, and a heavy gasp fell from his lips, his chest rising and falling as he watched you intently. His reaction spurred you on, each swirl of your tongue drawing a deeper moan from him. You teased him with slow, deliberate licks, circling the tip, savoring the musky taste of him mixed with the salty precum that lingered on your tongue.

Slowly, you took more of him into your mouth, inch by inch, the stretch of your lips around his thickness almost too much to handle. His length filled you completely, and as you descended, your lips slid over every ridge, every pulsing vein, particularly that thick vein running along the underside of his shaft, pressing firmly against your tongue.

Michael’s eyes darkened with lust as he watched you go deeper, his breaths coming faster, his chest rising and falling with each one. The small, delicate gags that escaped your throat were music to his ears as you reached the base of him, your lips stretched impossibly wide to accommodate his size. You paused there for a moment, savoring the fullness, the way he felt in your mouth before pulling back up, your lips trailing up his length as you sucked softly, just halfway. You bobbed your head in slow, steady motions, letting your tongue slide against his shaft with every descent.

Your eyes never left his, not for a second. His gaze was locked on you, burning with raw desire as he watched the way you worked him. He looked so damn fine like this, sitting back in the chair, his jaw clenched, his brow furrowed from the pleasure you were giving him. He was helpless under your touch, completely at your mercy, and you loved every second of it.

As you continued to suck him, letting your saliva coat every inch of his shaft, you could feel the wetness dripping down to your hand, pooling at the base of his cock and slipping down to the leather chair beneath him. Your hand moved with your mouth, stroking his base, the slickness of your saliva making the glide effortless.

Michael never tore his eyes away from you, his brow furrowed even deeper as his pleasure built, the sensations overwhelming him. His breathing grew heavier, his lips parting with soft groans, his thick length twitching in your mouth as the veins beneath his skin pulsed rhythmically against your lips.

You took him all the way back down to the base again, the pressure against your throat making you gag lightly, but you held him there, savoring the fullness, the weight of him pressing against your tongue. His hand rested gently on your head, fingers brushing through your hair, but he didn’t push. He didn’t force you to move, didn’t thrust himself deeper. He wanted you to take your time, to inspire yourself, to work him in your own way.

“God…” Michael breathed, his voice ragged, filled with need. His eyes stayed on you, even though his body trembled, every muscle tense with restraint. You could feel how badly he wanted to take control, but he was giving you the reins, letting you lead him to the edge.

You moved back up to his tip, letting your saliva build up even more, coating his shaft in a glistening layer that dripped down onto the leather seat beneath him. With your other hand, you wrapped around his base, still unable to fully hold him in both hands, but the pressure of your grip and the slickness of your spit made the slide easier. You bobbed your head in a steady rhythm, sucking him deeply, your moans vibrating against his length, each sound sending shivers through his body.

Michael started to thrust gently into your mouth, just enough to match your rhythm, but not enough to overwhelm you. His hips rolled in a slow, measured motion, and his voice dropped to a low growl. “Just like that, baby… God, you look so pretty with me in your mouth.” His voice was thick with pleasure, each word dripping with lust. “Those pretty lips, stretching around me… mhm, look at that.”

A hiss slipped from his lips as you squeezed him a little tighter, your hand twisting slightly as you stroked him, and the veins along his shaft pulsed harder against your touch. “Fuck…” he breathed, throwing his head back, his hair falling in loose curls over his forehead as he surrendered to the pleasure.

You smiled against him, knowing just how responsive his body was, how easily he could fall apart under your touch. His muscles tensed, and his thighs quivered slightly as you kept working him, your hands and mouth moving in perfect harmony. You knew exactly how to drive him to the brink, to tease him with just enough restraint before letting him spill over into release.

God, he was so close. You could feel it in every twitch of his body, every ragged breath that escaped his lips. He was so responsive, every nerve in his body attuned to your touch. Watching him like this—completely undone beneath you, his control slipping with every stroke—sent a rush of power through you. He was yours, utterly and entirely, just waiting for that final push to send him over the edge.

Your hand continued its steady, deliberate rhythm along his slick, throbbing length. Each stroke was met with a soft gasp, his hips jerking slightly, unable to keep still. Your lips wrapped around his sensitive tip, sucking gently, knowing just how vulnerable he was there, how that spot could unravel him in an instant. You could taste how close he was—the salty essence of him leaking onto your tongue, a promise of what was about to spill out. You could feel his desperation, the way he strained beneath you, his body teetering on the edge of release.

“Shit, baby, I’m close,” Michael ground out through clenched teeth, his jaw tight, the muscles in his neck straining as he fought to hold on.

You picked up the pace, your strokes becoming faster, more insistent. Your tongue still moved slowly around his tip, teasing him, feeling it throb against your lips as his length twitched in your hand. His grip on your hair tightened, his fingers tangling in the strands as he struggled to keep control. But it was slipping, and you knew it. He was right there, right on the brink.

“Fuck, I’m about to—” His words cut off in a strangled groan as his body tensed all at once.

With a deep, guttural moan, Michael’s body convulsed, his thick, warm seed spurting into your mouth in hot, powerful waves. It hit the back of your throat, filling your mouth instantly, the sheer force of it making you gag lightly. He groaned loudly, his hand pushing your head down, forcing you to take more, to swallow him whole as he came undone. His cum filled your mouth so completely that it began to spill out, dripping from the corners of your lips and sliding down his shaft, thick and warm.

Even as you pulled away, you kept stroking him, your hands slick with his release, your fingers gliding easily over his still-hard length. His seed coated your hands, dripping down in thick, sticky ropes. You giggled softly at the sight, your lips curving into a teasing smile as you bit down on your bottom lip, unable to resist the playful urge. “Look at that,” you murmured, your voice soft, almost a purr.

One last drop leaked from his tip, landing squarely on your cheek, warm and wet. Michael sat back in the chair, completely spent, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. His body was spent, muscles trembling, but the hunger in his eyes said otherwise. Both of you knew this wasn’t over. Not yet.

You licked your hands, tasting his warm seed on your tongue, savoring the salty sweetness. Your tongue slid along his shaft, licking up the remnants of his release, not wanting to waste a single drop. Even now, his cock remained hard, twitching lightly with each flick of your tongue.

His body jerked slightly as you licked up every last drop, the overstimulation sending shivers through him. His abs tensed beneath your touch as you ran your hand up his stomach, feeling the hard ridges of muscle beneath your fingers. His breathing was still heavy and ragged, each breath coming out in short bursts.

“Want to give me more?” you asked teasingly, your lips brushing against his skin as you spoke, your voice dripping with playful seduction.

Michael chuckled softly, though his voice was still thick with desire. “You know I can go all night, don’t start,” he warned, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

You stood up, a teasing smirk on your face as you turned to walk away, but before you could take more than a step, Michael’s hand shot out, grabbing you by the waist. In one swift motion, he pulled you onto his lap, his arm wrapping around your waist to hold you in place. His still-hard shaft pressed against you, hot and insistent beneath the thin fabric between you.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he growled, his voice low and possessive. “We’re not finished here… you still have a couple more paragraphs to finish.”

His hand slid up your body, fingers tracing the curve of your waist before coming to rest around your neck, his grip firm but gentle as he pulled you closer. His lips hovered just inches from yours, his breath warm against your skin, making you shiver with anticipation.

You looked back at him, your eyes locking onto his, the tension between you crackling in the air like static. Your gaze flickered down to his lips, so close, so tempting. His hand tightened slightly around your neck, pulling you closer still until your lips brushed against his in the softest, most tantalizing of kisses.

You leaned in, closing the distance between you, your lips meeting his in a deep, hungry kiss. The moment your lips touched, the world fell away, leaving only the heat between you. The kiss was slow at first, but it quickly turned desperate, both of you lost in the sensation, moaning softly into each other’s mouths. You could taste him—his release still lingering on your tongue, mixed with the heat of the kiss. Michael didn’t mind. He never did.

The kiss deepened, turning sloppier with every passing second, your lips swollen and slick from the shared hunger between you. His tongue slid against yours, tangling in a way that sent jolts of pleasure sparking through your body. The heat radiating off both of you was unbearable, suffocating in the best way as your bodies pressed closer. His grip on your neck tightened slightly, the pressure not painful but enough to make your heart race wildly. You could feel the pulse pounding beneath your skin, an intoxicating sensation as you surrendered completely to him, lost in the moment, craving more.

The ache between you both was growing, a desperate need building with every second that passed. Michael pulled away from the kiss, your lips parting with a wet, breathless sound, a thin string of saliva still connecting your mouths. His dark eyes flickered with lust as he glanced down at you, the corner of his mouth curling into a smirk. Without a word, he raised his hand and brought it lightly across your face, the sting so slight but enough to make your body shudder. Your eyes fluttered closed for a brief second, the rush of submission filling your veins as a slutty smile appeared on your lips.

“You want to sit on it, baby?” Michael’s voice was a low, rough growl, the words dripping with desire.

Your teeth sank into your bottom lip as you nodded eagerly, a soft moan escaping you. You could barely wait, the throbbing between your thighs growing unbearable. Michael’s hands left your neck, moving down to grip your hips with a firm hold as he effortlessly lifted you. His touch was possessive, commanding, making you feel completely at his mercy. You turned your head back, your eyes lingering on him as you reached between your bodies, your fingers wrapping around his thick, pulsing shaft.

You brushed the swollen head of his length against your slick folds, teasing him by dragging it back and forth along your entrance. The sensation made your breath hitch, the pressure of him against your clit sending a wave of pleasure shooting through your core. “Fuck…” you murmured under your breath, your voice a soft moan as you continued the slow, torturous teasing.

Michael groaned in response, his hand running up and down your back, the muscles in his arms tense with restraint. “Go ahead, baby,” he whispered, his voice husky as his breath ghosted over your skin. “Take it.”

Your body trembled with anticipation as you positioned him at your entrance, the thick head of his shaft pressing against your opening. Slowly, you began to ease down, each inch stretching you more, filling you so completely it felt like you could barely handle it. Your breath came out in a shaky gasp as your tight walls gripped him, the sensation overwhelming.

“Oh God…” you moaned, your voice quivering as you felt him sink deeper into you, inch by inch. The stretch was intense, your body struggling to adjust to his size, but the pleasure was unlike anything else. Each movement sent sparks of electricity up your spine, making your toes curl.

Michael leaned forward, bending you slightly as his eyes locked onto the sight of you taking him in. His hands gripped your hips tighter, his fingers digging into your skin as he watched intently. “Go deeper, baby,” he urged, his voice low and rough with desire. “I know you can take it.”

You whimpered in response, your brow furrowing as the fullness made your body quiver. “It’s so thick…” you whispered breathlessly, your voice barely more than a soft whine as you tried to adjust to the overwhelming sensation.

Michael chuckled softly, a deep, rumbling sound that sent a shiver down your spine. “I know, baby,” he said, his voice dripping with satisfaction as he watched you. “You can take it… take it all if you want to.”

With a strained moan, you finally sank all the way down, feeling his entire length buried deep inside of you. It was almost too much, the way he filled you so completely, but it was perfect in its intensity. Every nerve in your body was alight with pleasure, your breath coming out in shallow pants as you struggled to hold onto the sensation.

Michael’s grip on your hips tightened even more as he slowly began to guide your movements, lifting you up and then pulling you back down onto him. The slow, steady rhythm was torturous in its intensity, every inch of him dragging against your walls as your slick heat enveloped him. Your hands reached back, gripping onto his thighs for support as your body trembled from the pleasure.

“Mhm, Michael,” you moaned, your voice strained as your brows knitted together. He was so big, so thick, and every thrust felt like it was driving you closer to the edge, your body unable to take much more.

“Put your feet in the seat, baby,” Michael instructed, his voice low and commanding as he adjusted you.

Carefully, you shifted, placing your feet on the seat beneath you, your body hovering just above him as you adjusted to the new angle. He was still buried deep inside of you, the change in position causing you to let out a sharp gasp as the sensation intensified. Your hands moved to the armrests of the chair, your body now positioned so close to his chest, yet you held yourself up, trembling with every subtle movement.

Michael pressed his head against your shoulder, his breath hot against your neck as he whispered in your ear. “Look at that…” he murmured, his voice thick with admiration as he watched himself slide in and out of you, his shaft glistening with your arousal.

The slow, deliberate thrusts were agonizingly perfect, each one sending a fresh wave of pleasure through your body as his length coated itself in your slick heat. “You take me so good, baby,” he breathed, his voice a low, approving whisper that made your heart race. “Such a good girl…”

His grip tightened, firm and commanding, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips as he took full control of your movements. His possessiveness radiated through every touch, each motion deliberate as he guided you to ride him exactly how he wanted. Your bodies met with perfect rhythm, each thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through your core, tightening the coil of pressure that built with every second. The slick, wet sounds of your connection filled the room, amplifying the heat and intensity between you as your arousal dripped down his length, pooling beneath you in a messy sheen.

“It feels so good, Michael,” you whimpered softly, your voice barely audible between the desperate moans escaping your lips. Your eyebrows knitted together in a mix of pleasure and strain as you struggled to keep yourself grounded while he unraveled you completely.

Michael leaned in, his lips brushing against your cheek, soft but heated. “I know, baby,” he murmured against your skin, his breath hot in your ear. “What else do you want to put in those naughty stories of yours?” His voice was a low, teasing growl, the words wrapped in wicked intent.

A shiver ran down your spine, and all you could manage was a helpless moan in response, your mind too fogged with bliss to form a coherent answer. But both of you knew — this moment, this raw passion, would be written into your journal later, like every other fantasy that you and Michael had brought to life. It was just another story in the collection you could never keep secret, not with him.

With a swift movement, Michael’s strong arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you up against his chest in one smooth motion. His length stayed buried deep inside of you, the connection unbroken as he stood to his feet, lifting you effortlessly. Your back pressed against the hard planes of his chest, his heartbeat pounding through your skin as he turned both of you around. His lips brushed against your neck, but there was no pause in his motions — he set you down on the chair on all fours, your body arched perfectly, just the way he liked it.

The angle opened you up to him completely, making you gasp as you felt the fullness of his length slide back into you with agonizing precision. You whined, your body trembling beneath him, each thrust sending shocks of pleasure straight through you. Michael’s pace was steady but relentless, his hips snapping forward as your body smacked back against him. The sharp recoil of your skin meeting his echoed in the room, adding to the erotic symphony of wet, desperate sounds.

Michael’s eyes locked onto where your bodies met, watching the way your arousal coated him, the slickness of it making each thrust glide smoother. He needed more. Despite how wet you were, his greed for more of you drove him further. His mouth parted, and with a low groan, he let a drop of his saliva fall down onto his shaft, watching it drip and mix with your wetness, working into you with each thrust, making it even more intense.

“Michael, don’t stop,” you moaned, your voice shaky and breathless, your body trembling as the pleasure overwhelmed you.

He growled low in his throat, his hand reaching up to grab a fistful of your hair, wrapping the strands tightly around his fingers. He yanked your head back, the pull making your body arch even more, forcing you to open up further for him. “I won’t stop,” he whispered darkly into your ear, his breath ragged. “Not until you get a full story, baby.”

A loud, helpless moan ripped from your throat as his words sent another wave of desire crashing through you. You tried to push back against him, to match his pace, but Michael wasn’t having it. His grip tightened, and his pace changed, faster, more intense. The sound of your skin slapping together filled the room, his hips snapping against your ass with such force that it made your entire body shudder.

The thrusts came harder, deeper, each one knocking the breath from your lungs. You pressed your face into the seat, muffling your moans as you tried to hold on, but it was impossible. Michael’s pace was relentless, the sensation of him driving into you was too much, and you could feel yourself unraveling with every thrust.

“Fuck,” Michael gritted through his teeth, his voice thick with strain, every syllable drenched in the raw intensity of the moment. His eyes locked onto the sight before him, mesmerized by how your body responded to him, your arousal gleaming on his length with every deep thrust. The creamy sheen coated him entirely, heightening each movement as he drove into you. You were so tight, so wet—every inch of you pulling him deeper, making it impossible for him to slow down, not that he wanted to. He couldn’t get enough.

Your hand reached back in a desperate attempt to steady yourself, but Michael wasn’t having it. Without a word, he released your hair, his grip shifting to your arm, grabbing it firmly and twisting it behind your back. In one swift motion, he pinned it against the small of your spine, arching you deeper into the seat. The new angle made your stomach press flat against the chair, your chin sinking into the cushion as his thrusts grew harder. He slammed into you with a rhythm that was relentless, each movement sending heavy groans from his lips and loud, breathless moans from yours.

The pressure in your belly was building, that familiar burn growing tighter and tighter with every thrust. The ache in your core was so close to release, yet still so maddeningly far. Michael knew it too. He could feel your body tightening, your walls clenching around him, pulsing with need as you teetered on the edge. With every stroke, he was bringing you closer, pushing you toward that inevitable climax that had been creeping up on you from the start.

“Michael, I’m so close,” you moaned, your voice hoarse and desperate, barely able to hold back the sob of pleasure rising in your throat. Your body trembled beneath him, and your toes curled so tightly you thought they might cramp.

“Me too, baby,” he groaned, his voice strained as he pushed harder into you, sweat dripping down his forehead, falling in rivulets across his face. His grip on your waist tightened, fingers digging into your skin as he worked his body faster, more determined, his cock brushing that spot deep inside you with precision, the one spot that drove you absolutely insane. Each time he hit it, your body convulsed, and you could feel yourself unraveling at his mercy.

You bit down on your lip, trying to muffle the scream threatening to escape, but it was no use. The tension in your belly coiled tighter until it snapped, and with a final thrust, Michael sent you over the edge. Your body convulsed, trembling violently as wave after wave of your release crashed through you. Your walls clenched and spasmed around him, squeezing his cock as your arousal gushed over him, coating him in slick warmth. You could feel everything—the way your body held him inside, the way your orgasm pulsed through every inch of your skin.

Michael wasn’t far behind. The sensation of your release gripping him so tightly, combined with the sounds of your pleasure, pushed him past his breaking point. His grip on your arm and waist tightened, his fingers pressing into you with bruising force as his hips bucked uncontrollably.

With a deep, guttural groan, he buried himself inside you one final time, releasing deep into your core. His body twitched as his cum spilled out in thick, hot spurts, filling you completely. His moans were desperate, your name falling from his lips in a low, ragged whisper as his cock throbbed within you, his seed seeping out and dripping onto the leather chair beneath with a wet thud.

Michael collapsed on top of you, his body spent and heavy, his breath hot against your neck as he tried to catch it. Your limbs trembled beneath him, the aftershocks of your orgasm still making you shudder as you both lay there, tangled and exhausted. His arms wrapped loosely around your waist, holding you close even as his weight pressed into you.

Both of you were too drained to move, limbs heavy with the weight of exhaustion, but the quiet that settled over the room felt intimate, almost sacred. The aftermath of your shared pleasure clung to the air, thick and heady, and you lay there, basking in it. It was clear as day—a new story had just been written, etched into your mind with every kiss, every breathless moan, every sensation that still lingered. You knew it wouldn’t be the last, and neither did Michael.

As the silence wrapped around you both, Michael finally sat up, his broad chest rising and falling with each ragged breath. His skin glistened with sweat, tiny droplets rolling down his neck, his breathing heavy and labored, but his eyes remained on you. Slowly, he eased himself out of you, the soft, wet sound of his withdrawal making you whimper. His gaze darkened, a mixture of pride and desire swirling in his eyes as he watched your shared release seep out, coating your thighs and dripping onto the leather seat.

“Fuck… look at you,” Michael murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction as he cupped your cheek gently, leaning down to press a soft kiss against your lips. “You’re so perfect. Every damn time.”

You whimpered at the emptiness, your body trembling slightly as the cool air hit your overheated skin. Michael’s lips brushed against your jaw, his breath warm and ragged. “I’ll be right back, baby,” he whispered softly, the kiss lingering a moment longer before he stood.

His length was still semi-hard, glistening with the evidence of your union as he crossed the room, every step deliberate, his muscles taut beneath his skin. He disappeared into the bathroom, the faint sound of running water filling the air, grounding you in the silence that had settled between you.

When he returned, the washcloth was warm and damp in his hand. He knelt down beside you, his touch gentle and deliberate as he began to clean you. The soft fabric glided between your sensitive folds, wiping away the thick remnants of his release. His fingers lingered for just a second longer than necessary, tracing your skin with reverence.

“You always make such a mess, baby,” he teased softly, his voice low, filled with tenderness. “But I love it. I love seeing you like this.”

You let out a small breathless laugh, your body too spent to respond fully. He lifted you gently, propping you up just enough to make sure you were comfortable. “You’re not falling asleep in that chair,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear, the heat of his breath sending shivers down your spine.

Your legs trembled as you attempted to stand, the strength drained from them. Michael’s eyes softened, and without hesitation, he scooped you up effortlessly, cradling you against his chest. His lips found your temple, pressing a soft kiss there as he carried you to the bed. He laid you down gently, your body sinking into the softness of the sheets, your head lolling to the side.

Just as your eyes fluttered shut, you reached out, your hand brushing against his still-hard length. A playful smirk curled your lips as you stroked him lightly, teasing him with lazy, languid movements.

Michael let out a deep growl, his eyes narrowing in playful warning. “Keep playing, and we’ll be up all night,” he said, his voice rough with desire, though a grin tugged at the corner of his lips.

You smiled sleepily, pulling the covers over yourself as you settled in, the warmth enveloping you. Michael turned and walked back into the bathroom, rinsing out the cloth and tossing it in the trash before returning to the bedroom.

When he came back, he paused in the doorway, his eyes locking onto the sight of you with your journal open on your lap, pencil in hand, scribbling furiously despite the exhaustion pulling at your body. He chuckled softly, shaking his head.

“You couldn’t wait, could you?” he asked, his voice filled with amusement as he stepped closer to the bed, his eyes gleaming with affection.

You shook your head, looking up at him with tired but determined eyes, a mischievous glint still dancing in them. “You inspired me,” you whispered, your voice soft, filled with warmth.

Michael slid into the bed beside you, his body still radiating heat as he nestled against your side. He rested his head on your shoulder, watching you write. “So, what are you putting in this time?” he murmured, his lips brushing your ear as he spoke. His voice was low, a seductive rumble that made your heart race.

You glanced at him, your fingers pausing for a moment on the page. “Everything,” you whispered back, your lips curving into a playful smile. “Every touch, every sound… every inch of you.”

Michael let out a low, approving hum, his hand slipping beneath the covers to rest on your thigh, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your skin. “Every inch, huh?” he teased, his voice dripping with seduction. “You better not leave anything out, baby. I want all of it.”

You shivered under his touch, your body still sensitive, but you couldn’t help but smile as you continued writing. “Oh, I won’t. I’ll make sure it’s just as… vivid as tonight was.”

His lips pressed against your shoulder, soft yet possessive. “Good,” he murmured against your skin, his breath warm and tantalizing. “I want to relive this every time I read it.”

Both of you stayed up for the next hour, wrapped in each other’s presence, going over every detail that played out tonight. Michael’s voice was soft in your ear, offering playful commentary, whispering bits of inspiration that made your heart race. Every now and then, he would press a kiss to your shoulder, his hand sliding up and down your thigh in slow, sensual movements, reminding you of exactly what you were writing about.

And when you finally closed the journal, both of you spent and satisfied, you knew that this wouldn’t be the last story you’d write together.

#michael jackson #moonwalker #wattpad #mjf fanfiction #writing #imagine #thriller #smut #rough smut #endless seduction #mjsdiiana #ao3 writer

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kopikocoffee · 5 months ago

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MOONSTRUCK

childhood best friends to lovers (suggestive), Jake x reader

first time writing! feedback is greatly appreciated <3 if you enjoyed, please reblog & like!

Far away from the bustling city, amidst the noise and the chaos, there was a small village nestled between the hills and the endless sky. It was a place where the flowers bloomed endlessly and where the trees whispered secrets to the wind. It was believed that when two lovers confessed their love under the moonlight, their love would be as everlasting as the stars in the sky.

Jake and Y/N had known each other since childhood. Both have been inseparable since they could remember. In the small village, their houses stood side by side, their backyards bleeding into one shared space where they shared their passion for music, laughter, secrets, and dreams under the stars.

As they grew, both have taken different paths in their lives and their friendship had changed. Jake became a well known singer while Y/N worked at a music shop in the village. Jake moved to the city after high school and spent his time building his career, while Y/N decided to stay in the village and work. Texts went unanswered for longer, and their weekly hangouts became less frequent. They were drifting, but neither wanted to acknowledge the growing distance.

After being on tour for a few months, Jake finally had time to visit his family and take a break from the bustling city. The night he came back to the village, he visited the backyard where he spent most of his childhood at, and amidst the stars the lit up the sky, he saw his childhood best friend. Jake, drawn by her beauty, approached quietly as he admired her, captivated by the way the moonlight seems to weave through her hair, casting a silver halo around her.

“It’s been a while Y/N” Jake said softly. Y/N turned her head, her eyes meeting his and smiled.

“It has been a while, I’m glad to see you’re doing well Jake” she replied.

“How have you been?” Jake asks, moonstruck by the shadows of her features under the moonlight.

“I’ve been as good as I can be, how about you? You’re finally living your dream” Y/N responds as she looks at his face, noticing the moon’s reflections from his eyes.

“I’ve been busy. I enjoy going on tours and making music, but I also miss home..” Jake hesitates on his next words “and us. I miss us the most.” His heart continued to beat rapidly against his chest. “I miss us too Jake.”

Night after night, they found themselves falling back into their old routine. Melody of joyous laughter carried through the night, a proof of their everlasting bond. In the backyard where moonlight and shared dreams intertwined the souls, the whispers of their hearts were heard by the moon. In the small village amidst the chaos, two souls intertwined and danced in the quiet glow of the night sky, a testament of the magic that can be found under the moonlight.

#jake sim fics #enhypen imagines #enhypen #jake enhypen #sim jaeyun #sim jake #jake imagines #jake fanfic #jake x reader #jake fluff #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun #engene #enhypen fanfiction #fanfic #kpop fanfic #jake fic

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mxnsterbabe · 8 months ago

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Male Vampire/Female Reader SFW Wordcount: 3,656 Commissions | Ko-fi | Masterlist

You've been told never to invite Beau inside the Halfway House, and you don't plan to. Except, he finds a way inside anyway - and he might not be all that you thought.

The chill of the winter evening bit at your skin as you stepped off the final leg of your journey, the quaint silhouette of Esmeralda's Halfway House emerging through the mist. Your day had been a mess of minor misfortunes; trains delayed by the winter weather, connections missed by mere moments. Now, well past dinner, the glow from the windows of the halfway house promised a sanctuary from the cold.

Miss Esmeralda, upon opening the door, was like a burst of summer in the heart of winter. Her welcoming smile, wide and genuine, immediately enveloped you in a warmth that the evening's frost could not penetrate. "You must be frozen," she exclaimed, her concern palpable as she ushered you inside, the door closing with a reassuring thud behind you.

The interior of the house was a contrast to the bleakness outside. Warm light bathed the walls, casting long, comforting shadows that danced gently in the periphery. Esmeralda led you through the hallway, her steps confident and inviting, to a room that she announced would be yours. It was a modest space, but the attention to comfort was evident in every detail—from the plush quilt on the bed to the soft, amber glow of the bedside lamp.

"I'll have someone bring your bags up shortly," Esmeralda promised, her voice carrying the cadence of someone who had spent a lifetime caring for others. "You settle in. Make yourself at home."

Despite the lateness of the hour, Esmeralda insisted on introducing you to a few of the residents who lingered in the communal areas, their night not yet drawn to a close. First were the twin gargoyles, Olivier and Laurent. They perched on the edge of a sturdy oak table, their forms more fluid than one might expect from creatures of stone. Their greeting was a chorus of nods, their expressions carved into gentle smirks that hinted at a playful nature beneath their statuesque exteriors.

Then there was Camilla, the dryad, who seemed almost a part of the house itself as she shyly hid in the shadows. She was reserved, her demeanour as delicate as the frost patterns on a windowpane, yet her smile towards you was warm, inviting—a silent welcome into this eclectic family.

Esmeralda explained that the other residents had already retired for the evening. The house, she shared, was a refuge not just for those who found themselves at the mercy of circumstance but also for those seeking redemption.

As Esmeralda guided you through the house, she pointed out the key areas with a sense of pride. The kitchen, she explained, was the heart of the home, where you'd spend most of your time crafting meals that brought everyone together. It was spacious and well-equipped, with pots hanging like metallic fruit from the ceiling and herbs lining the windowsill, their scents mingling in the warm air.

Next was the library, a cosy room lined with shelves that reached towards the high ceiling, filled with books of every imaginable genre. "A place for quiet reflection," Esmeralda remarked, her voice softening with reverence for the written word.

As you admired the library's stained glass window, a sudden noise from outside momentarily distracted you.

Esmeralda's expression tightened, a rare frown crossing her features. "That's only Beau," she said, her tone carrying a hint of discomfort. "An old guest who's no longer welcome here. Just don't invite him in or speak to him, and you'll be fine."

The warning piqued your curiosity, but before you could inquire further, your gaze was drawn to a fleeting image outside the library window—a figure with long white hair that caught the moonlight, creating an almost ethereal glow.

Miss Esmeralda, perhaps sensing your lingering curiosity about the figure outside, quickly steered the tour towards the living room and game room. The living area was spacious yet cosy, with plush sofas and a crackling fireplace that seemed to invite long, comfortable evenings. The game room boasted an eclectic mix of entertainment, from vintage board games to a well-worn pool table, clearly designed to bring joy and relaxation to its inhabitants.

As she showed you around, Esmeralda shared a bit of the house's history. "This was originally my grandmother's home, then it passed to my mother. My parents transformed it into this halfway house about fifty years ago, and now... it's mine," she explained, her voice tinged with a mixture of pride and nostalgia.

The warmth in her words prompted you to ask, "Are you human, Miss Esmeralda?" The question had been dancing on the tip of your tongue since you'd arrived, given the unique nature of the halfway house's residents.

With a playful twinkle in her eye, Esmeralda winked and replied, "You'll have to stay long enough to find out."

Feeling the conversation shift away from the enigmatic Beau, you found yourself smiling, the tension eased by Esmeralda's charm and the homely feel of the house.

After Esmeralda excused herself to attend to other matters, promising to let you settle in, you wandered back to the library, drawn by the promise of losing yourself in a good book. The room, with its walls of stories and the gentle hush that filled the air, felt like a refuge.

As you browsed the shelves, the sight of an open window caught your attention, the night breeze causing the curtains to flutter softly. A shiver ran down your spine, not from the cold, but from the reminder of the white-haired figure.

As you reached for the window to close it, a voice drifted in from the darkness, its tone laced with a quiet desperation. "Please, may I come in?"

The owner of the voice was just a slender silhouette against the blackness, elusive and barely discernible. Your heart raced, Esmeralda's warning echoing in your mind. With a steadiness you didn't feel, you responded, "I'm sorry, I can't let you in."

The figure outside seemed undeterred, their plea softening. "I only wish to apologise to Miss Esmeralda, you understand. She won't listen."

Despite the sincerity in the voice, your anxiety held firm, a tight knot in your stomach. "No, I really can't let you in." you repeated, your voice firmer this time, even as you reached to close the window fully.

The soft glow from the library's lamp illuminated slender fingers and manicured nails resting against the window sill, adorned with a single silver ring that caught the light. The sight of such human-like hands made your stomach flutter.

Before they could say anything else, your shaking hands slammed the window closed. Then you turned heel and ran, the idea of choosing a book now abandoned in the wake of your frayed nerves.

Retreating to the sanctuary of your room, you changed into pyjamas, unwilling to let yourself think about the man outside for too long. If you did, then you’d start to over think, and that never ended well. It was difficult not to think about those strange, elongated fingers though, or the soft voice that asked may I come in?

Crawling into bed, the quiet of the house enveloped you; but the peace you wanted remained elusive.

As sleep finally claimed you, you wondered if there was more to all of this than Miss Esmeralda was letting on.

***

Waking early the next morning, you felt a sense of purpose as you made your way to the kitchen, determined to start your day on a positive note by preparing breakfast for the house.

Camilla, the dryad with sparkling skin, joined you silently as you were looking for the seasonings. Without words, she guided you through the kitchen, her delicate hands pointing out where the essentials were stored, her silent efficiency easing your way.

As the house slowly woke and the residents gathered to eat, the kitchen became a hub of quiet activity, the sounds of morning routines weaving together in a symphony of new beginnings. With your own plate in hand, you decided to use the opportunity to explore.

Wandering the halls with a sense of curiosity, you stumbled upon a little side room, its door slightly ajar, inviting exploration. Pushing it open, you discovered a small living room, much smaller than the other rooms you’d seen.

The room was bathed in soft, natural light from a skylight above, casting gentle shadows across the plush armchairs. A small bookshelf lined one wall, its shelves filled with well-thumbed novels and worn poetry collections, the scent of old paper and whispered stories filling the air. In the corner, a small fireplace, dusty with misuse.

Above the fireplace, a painting caught your eye, its figures rendered with such lifelike precision they seemed almost ready to step out of the frame. There was an older man and woman — she in a gown with wide, voluminous skirts, a bodice laced tight, and he in a coat with elaborate cuffs and a waistcoat richly embroidered.

They were both smiling.

Beside them stood a curly-haired girl, her face eerily similar to Esmeralda. She even had the same mole beneath her left eye, the same quirk to her lips.

A boy, no more than ten, stood beside her, his pale blond hair falling over his eyes. His pose was casual, a hint of mischief in his smile.

As you stared up at the painting, a voice startled you. "That was my family, centuries ago," Esmeralda’s voice said, and you spun to see her smile tinged with sadness as she joined you in front of the painting.

You turned to her, the pieces of the puzzle beginning to fit together in your mind. "Centuries?" you echoed, the implications slowly dawning on you.

"Yes, my brother and I were turned into vampires when we were still quite young. Our parents, however, remained human... They grew old and passed away, leaving us with this legacy."

You swallowed thickly. You were at a halfway house for monsters, you reminded yourself. It made sense that the host was one, too.

"And the house?” You asked. “You mentioned it was your grandmother's."

A soft laugh escaped her, tinged with memories. "Indeed, it was. Just... a bit more long ago than you might think. This house has been in our family since it was built in the sixteenth century, until it became the refuge it is today."

Your shock must have mirrored on your face, because Esmeralda laughed softly.

"It all makes sense now," you murmured, suddenly too aware of the shaking in your hands. Your plate rattled when you set it down.

Hesitantly, you pointed to the boy in the painting, the one with the pale blond hair and piercing blue eyes. "Him? I have a feeling I know who that might be..."

Esmeralda's expression darkened slightly, a shadow passing over her features. "Yes, that's Beau," she confirmed, her voice heavy. "He was part of this family, once. I had to make the difficult decision to ask him to leave. He... he started feeding on some of the guests in their sleep."

You shivered.

"He was found out because one of the guests was a werewolf. The blood made Beau violently ill, and that's when we discovered what he had been doing."

You were beginning to wonder what you’d gotten yourself into. "When I spoke to him, “you said, “he seemed genuinely regretful.”

Esmeralda's eyes widened, lips parted in a gasp. "You've been speaking to him?" The idea seemed to alarm her more than it should have "Please, I must insist—Beau is not to be trusted. His regret, while it may seem genuine, comes after too much harm has been done. It's best to keep your distance, for your own safety."

"What harm can talking do?" you pressed. "Don't vampires need an invitation to come in? I haven't invited him in."

Esmeralda nodded, her expression grave. "Yes, they must be invited; but you must understand, an invitation, once given, can only be revoked by the owner of the house. If you, even unknowingly, invite him in… I won’t necessarily be there to help."

The weight of her words settled heavily between you. "So, I shouldn’t even risk it?” you asked softly.

"Exactly," Esmeralda confirmed, her tone leaving no room for negotiation. "Keep the windows closed at all times, and do not venture outside after dark. You’re the only human here; it's for your safety as much as it is for the safety of everyone in this house."

Despite your protests, your inclination to see the good in others, Esmeralda remained insistent. She gently but firmly steered you out of the room, back towards the kitchen, her protective stance unwavering.

The conversation was clearly over, the warning issued with a finality that left coldness creeping into your bones.

***

Several days passed before curiosity and a longing for the library overcame your apprehension. The space, with its endless rows of books, eventually beckoned you back.

It seemed the library wasn't a popular haunt among the residents; Olivier and Laurent preferred the game room, while Camilla, with her gentle nature, kept mostly to herself.

So, you found yourself alone, the quiet of the room wrapping around you like a familiar blanket. You browsed the shelves, deliberately avoiding the windows, still mindful of Esmeralda's warnings.

However, as you moved through the room, you noticed the curtains at one window were tangled. Compelled to fix them, you approached, your hands reaching out to untangle the fabric. That's when you heard it—a soft tap, barely audible, at the window.

Your first instinct was to ignore it, to listen to Esmeralda's warnings and walk away. Yet, curiosity gnawed at you, coupled with a sliver of hope that perhaps Esmeralda was wrong. Maybe, just maybe, there was a chance for understanding.

You opened the window just enough to speak, cautious yet driven by a desire to understand. Beau, standing just beyond the reach of the library's soft light, seemed to exhale a sigh of relief at the small concession.

"I appreciate this... truly," Beau began, his voice smooth yet tinged with sincerity. "It's been a long time since anyone at Esmeralda's has been willing to hear me out."

You hesitated before replying, "Esmeralda did mention you, but it was more a warning to stay away from you than anything else." The words felt harsh even as they hung in the air, but you felt compelled to be honest.

His shadow flinched. "That makes sense," he conceded. "I suppose I can't blame her. I did things I'm not proud of. Continue to do things I’m not proud of."

You said nothing, even as your pulse thundered in your ears.

He paused, seeming to gather his thoughts before continuing. "There was a reason for it all, I assure you. Esmeralda thought we could... wean ourselves off human blood. She managed, somewhat, to control her urges. For me, it was never that simple."

You leaned closer to the crack in the window, maintaining a cautious distance, pulse thudding. "What do you mean?"

His pale eyes flashed in the darkness. They were almost iridescent, pearly and beautiful.

Captivated, you leaned in closer, elbows resting on the windowsill.

"For Esmeralda, being turned was a gift," he began, his voice carrying a hint of both admiration and envy. "It gave her a chance to be more, to escape the confines of what society expected of her. She's flourished over the centuries, becoming... well, more than I think even she anticipated."

He paused, and you just barely saw sharp teeth and a gleaming, albeit humourless, smile. "For me, it wasn't the same. I've always been in her shadow, struggling to find my place, to define who I am beyond this... condition."

The vulnerability in his confession made you shiver, longing to reach out and take his hand. To apologise for all that had happened to him.

"My bloodlust is stronger than hers, it always has been. Drinking from the residents in their sleep—it was a way to cope, to stave off the hunger without losing myself to it. I was terrified of what might happen if I let the hunger control me, though thankfully, it never came to that."

Sympathy tugged at your heart, tears prickling the corner of your eyes. It seemed to you that Beau was a product of his creation, not somebody who wanted to cause harm.

"If only I could tell her in person,” he said, “speak to Esmeralda face to face, and tell her I'm sorry.”

You bit the inside of your lip, knowing how futile that was. “Esmeralda won’t speak to you. You’d have to come in and hunt her down yourself—”

His eyes flashed, and too late you realised what you’d done. Cold dread filled you. “Wait! No, I wasn’t asking you to actually do that!”

Too late. Suddenly the window, previously only cracked open, swung wider, the cold night air rushing in. Before you could react, a figure gracefully manoeuvred through the opening, long coat billowing in the breeze.

Standing before you was Beau, in the flesh. He was tall and willowy, his pale skin almost luminescent in the dim light of the library. His white-blond hair was braided, falling over one shoulder in a cascade of pale silk. It was his eyes that truly captivated you, though; pale to the point of being almost purple, his pupils black against the soft lilac.

"Thank you for letting me in," Beau said with a smirk. “It was so kind of you.”

You stepped back with a jolt, knees buckling; but before you could retreat further, Beau closed the distance with a single, fluid motion, wrapping his long arms and pulling you flush against his strong chest.

In that moment, every cautionary tale, every warning about vampires you'd ever heard, flashed through your mind. You braced yourself for the sharp pain of fangs, for the sensation of being drained.

It never came. Instead, there was only the warmth of his embrace, the softness of his hair brushing against your cheek, and the steady beat of a heart you hadn't expected him to possess.

"I've been staying in a cottage further down the road," Beau murmured into the embrace, his voice muffled against your shoulder. "Finally, I'm home."

Hesitantly, your arms lifted to return the embrace, wrapping around Beau in a tentative gesture. It was clear from the tension that slowly ebbed away from his frame that he needed this little moment to gather himself.

Then, without warning, Beau's lips found yours in a kiss that took your breath away. For a moment, you were frozen, shock coursing through you; but as the kiss deepened, the initial astonishment gave way to a warmth that unfurled in you, your body responding to his with a warmth that left you baffled.

The kiss was gentle even as his fangs clicked against your own duller teeth. There was no taste of blood, no hint of the predator in the way he kissed you. Instead, there was the delicate flavour of herbal tea and sugar, sweet and perfumed.

When he finally pulled away, there was a smug satisfaction in his smirk, a playful glint in his pale eyes. "Just a little thank you," he murmured, brushing hair from your face. “For letting me inside.”

"You do realise I didn't mean to invite you in," you managed to say, half-hearted irritation mingling with the lingering warmth from his kiss.

Beau's response came with a sly, teasing edge. "Consider it a warning, then. Not all vampires are as charming and handsome as I am."

Your laughter broke the tension, a sound that seemed to delight him. His hand came up to cup your jaw gently, a gesture that was both tender and possessive. The cool touch of his fingers sent a shiver down your spine, not from fear, but from the electricity that seemed to spark between you.

"Won't you talk to Esmeralda now?" you asked, hoping to steer the conversation back to safer grounds, to the apology he had insisted he needed to make.

"No, that can wait," Beau replied, his gaze locked with yours. "What I really wanted was to get a good look at you. I must say, I like what I see."

The boldness of his words, the unabashed way he admired you, stirred something deep within you—it wasn’t something you could name, but it had warmth spreading through you.

Before you could voice a protest, he leaned in for another kiss. This time, you were ready for it, the anticipation sending a flush across your skin.

The kiss deepened, Beau's lips pressing against yours with a fervour that was absent in the first. Although his hands were gentle, he gripped you with a purpose, pulling you closer until there was no space left between your bodies. The sensation was heady, intoxicating, the kind of kiss that made you forget where you were, that there was a world beyond the two of you.

When you finally came up for air, you were breathless, a sheen of sweat on your skin despite the cool air of the library.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve had a kiss quite that good.”

Laughter spilled from your lips, as you pressed into his chest to avoid meeting his gaze. “Really?”

“Really.”

There was a pause, long enough that you glanced up to see if Beau was all right. He looked down at you, gaze soft, and confessed, "I don't know if I can make things right with Esmeralda... but I want to try."

The vulnerability tugged at something deep within you. "I'll help you," you said. "But only If I can keep kissing you like that."

Beau's laughter was rich and carefree, dispelling any lingering tension. "Of course," he promised, his smile both wicked and tender. "There will be plenty more kisses like that, I assure you."

“Good. Then how about we start now?”

Without hesitation, he dove in for another kiss.

#monster fucker #monster x reader #monster romance #monster boyfriend #exophilia fiction #exophilia #tag: mxf #tag: male monster #tag: female reader #tag: vampire #tag: sfw

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