#I CAN'T WAIT BUT AT THE SAME TIME I DON'T
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Detonation Mechanism ft. Isa
20k words
It's cute, fluffy, love-at-first-sight romance with Isa, but it turns out the kitten is naughtier than she appears.
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She'll be just like the last one. And the one before that. The one before that. The pattern, you've done everything in your power to break it and have yet to do so successfully. You'd rather not meet her at all if it's going to be that way, but the pressure from your mutual friends to get together for a blind date is akin to trying to turn around a tank with grocery bags in hand. You don't know if it's the same for Isa, but she didn't exactly put up a fight to meet, either, and that worries you a little bit. All you knew about Isa was a list of allergies so extensive that it resembled a complex food import document. You were always complaining about eating out at the same five places, so you were at least looking forward to eating at the trendy vegan restaurant she suggested.
Waiting amidst the bustling pedestrian plaza nearby, you double-check for the time and address on your phone and scan the area again. In truth, you want to get this over with. The air is thick with noise—the roar of traffic, people chatting, a street busker playing her guitar under the shade of an awning across from where you wait. The sun glares down mercilessly and your eyes water without warning, the summer heat already leaving you parched. It feels as though the world itself doesn’t want you to find love.
A notification on your screen.
> "you here already?"
> "Yep!"
> "i'm by the sculpture! of the guy! you'll know it's me!"
You do. Or, you hope. Hope that Isa is the red-haired woman waving wildly and looking around.
As you wave back with more restraint, you smile, because how else can you respond to the warmth of the sun—oh, how quickly you change your tune. You smile because that's how you combat freezing up at her prettiness. On first impression, Isa is already the most stunning person you've ever seen. Her eyes become half-moons when she smiles brightly, and you happily melt under her gaze. But then, there are those jeans holding in her thighs, her tight shirt not holding back her smooth midriff. All in all, very cute. You liken her expressions to that of a feisty cat. You haven't stopped smiling; how can you?
The world wants you to find love.
You can't believe it when she hugs you like she's known you for years. Her perfume wafts into your nose, and she smells sweet, too sweet, like you'd probably go into anaphylactic shock if you kissed her—who's the allergic one now?
"Hi!" Isa gives you one last squeeze before releasing you. "Nice to meet you."
You sputter—great start. "Wow, hi. Nice to meet you too."
"I'm Isa." Her grin is like a curly bracket as she looks up at you, not even close to your height. Her lips are pouty, red like her hair, and it doesn't help that she's looking at you as though you were already boyfriend material. "It's a nickname."
You have to hold back from telling her that she's the cutest thing you've ever seen in your life. "Isa," you repeat, almost stupidly, but then get over yourself. "It suits you."
"Yeah? Thank you." Her eyes turn into half-moons again when she smiles and nods, looking as though she'll purr any second now.
"Hold on, let me guess. You look like a… Sumin."
She laughs out loud. "Oh my god."
You gasp. "Did I get it?"
"No, no, that's one of my best friend's names."
"Damn. I thought I figured you out."
"Nope. I'm Lee Chaeyoung. Nice to meet you." She offers her hand.
You shake it and tell her your name in turn. "So, ready to eat?"
Her smile widens. She takes your bicep in hand, again her innate familiarity surprising you. "This way," she says, squeezing your arm.
"I know, I know," you say.
"I'm glad you agreed to come here. I've only been once, but I love this place."
You're inclined to like the place as well—the atmosphere is bright and vibrant, and the energy is positive like everyone's in their element. The restaurant has large windows with shutters drawn up to let in a lot of sunlight and natural airflow. A large indoor tree sits by a seating area next to the windows, providing a nice feeling of nature indoors. The tables and chairs are all a light-colored wood that matches the decor. You'd never walk into this place by accident—this is clearly a hipster vegan joint meant for millennials who think they can live forever if they just eat the right plants—but with Isa by your side, you don't care.
You care. You haven't felt nerves like these for ages. You're blaming your stuttering on how difficult the menu is to read, but if you're being honest, her beauty is throwing you for a loop. You're afraid you'll misspeak or do something weird like accidentally spill some soup on her, or try to kiss her before you learn her name properly, or any number of other things that can go wrong on a first date.
Isa orders for the both of you as if she knows the menu inside and out (you have no reason to suspect she doesn't), and as soon as she starts talking, you hang onto every word. She sounds passionate about this place, which is so cute of her, so of course, you agree with what she chooses.
The dish that appears in front of you, ratatouille and spaghetti, comes as a surprise because you were more focused on Isa than paying attention to what you ordered. You're embarrassed. If you had one great property about you, it would be your ability to snall talk and bullshit; instead, you're all avoidant eyes and quiet eating. You don't want to reveal too much about yourself, how humdrum your work is, or how many hours you spend on YouTube or reading manga every day. But Isa, she's a force of nature that can't be held back by any of your defenses, and you can't remain so closed off for too long, what with her relentless teasing and prodding at all the right times. She has you smiling in minutes.
A woman of many passions, she talks at length about decorating her house, finding new artists to listen to, and recording vlogs for all the countries she's visited. You're on the topic of travel. "No, I'm serious, there are some nice parks in Canada," you say.
"I could see that. I'm imagining somewhere remote, where the stars are visible and you can stand on top of a hill and breathe in the fresh, cool air." Isa takes in a deep breath as though to demonstrate. "Ooh, have you ever seen the aurora borealis? So pretty."
"Yeah," you say as you keep your eyes on her.
"Wait, you've been?" She's bouncing in her seat now.
You chuckle. "I did, once."
"I'm so jealous."
"It's a long drive, getting far enough from the city lights. Plus, you have to be lucky with the timing. But it's worth it."
"Can we go?" she asks, all sincere.
"Together? To Canada?" you ask.
Isa ducks her head. "Sorry, that's presumptuous, right?"
You pat her forearm. "No, it's okay. I didn't mean to make fun, that would be incredible to do. You really wanna go?"
"Eventually. If the stars align." Isa makes a dramatic face, as if winking but unable to get her other eye to cooperate and stay open.
You burst out laughing, attracting stares.
"What? What?" she asks.
But you keep laughing, and she can't help but join in. In that moment, there's something true and incomparable and fantastical about Isa, and whatever connection the two of you have. Her foot touches yours and neither of you move away. She meets your eyes, drawing you in closer. Every laugh. Every smile. Every quirk of her brow. Her beauty ensnares your attention like a well-laid trap. Beckons you to steal glances, toward her plump lips, her clear skin, the outline of her neck as she drinks from her glass, the graceful slope of her nose, the red hair that frames her face. Her legs, encased in tight denim that stretches beyond infinity, make you linger longer.
"I don't bite," she purrs, leans forward, offers a tantalizing glimpse of her cleavage. "Unless you want me to."
Your stomach drops. Whatever picture you had of Isa as a wholesome, innocent girl crumbles to pieces, in a good, groin-stirring, mouth-shutting way.
"Hey." Her hand touches your forearm. "I'm sorry if I'm coming on too strong. I'm having too much fun."
You clear your throat. "No, you're fine. More than fine." You squeeze her hand, admiring her delicate fingers and white-manicured nails. "I'm having fun with you too."
"Good! I guess we should, like, actually get to know each other though."
"Yeah," you reply, chuckling nervously. You first share the more basic biographical information: you're a few years older than her, but you agree to drop the formalities as though you were close friends already.
"Oh, by the way," you say, "I'm sorry."
She freezes up. "Sorry for what?"
"About all your allergies, I mean, chicken? Come on. I didn't even know that was a thing."
Isa laughs, and the more you hear her laugh, the more you want to tell jokes over and over just to hear it again. "Well, it's okay. I can just eat everything else. Like this ratatouille. It's really good."
You laugh with her. "Yeah, it is."
From there, it's easy to open up, talk more about yourself when she asks questions, to engage in small talk you wouldn't normally bother with. Just as with her hobbies, she wears many hats in her job, always busy doing something whether it's brand deals or graphic design or one of her million side projects. Somehow, she manages to make your life sound interesting with her unabashed sincerity. The more you ask about her interests, the more your own apathy toward dating seems silly and unfounded, a self-defeating cycle you've made worse by following it.
You're halfway through your meals when suddenly, Isa breaks the rhythm of the conversation with the question: "Why are you single?"
"What?" You snort. "Where did that come from?"
"Well," she begins, setting down her fork, "you're handsome, for one."
You hold back a gasp, not wanting to seem overly affected. "Thank you," you say in earnest, smiling bashfully.
"You're funny, and you're really good at making me feel comfortable with you." Once again, she squeezes your bicep, and more quietly, like admitting a secret, she adds, "And your body is nice. Any girl would be lucky to have you."
You're blushing, if not for her compliments, then for how adorable she looks being so transparent about how she feels. You decide to return the favor. "You're cute. Very cute. And I love your sense of style, especially the red hair, and how much fun we're having talking."
"Really?" Her eyes light up as she tucks a lock of hair behind her ear.
"Yeah," you say quietly. "I've never met anyone quite like you before."
"And I want to know more about you," she whispers. Isa leans forward and rests her elbows on the table, fingers laced together. "So, explain yourself, why you're single."
"Geez," you say, putting your hands up in defense, laughing again. "Okay, okay. Where to begin? I guess I haven't exactly had the best luck with dating."
She frowns. "Aww, I'm sorry. That's no good."
"I mean, it's tough, right? You have to meet new people and try to get to know them and they might turn out to be terrible dates who dump you in public or ghost you." You laugh, but it's mostly forced. "Or even worse, there are the friends that you dated and then had to stop being friends with because the relationship just didn't work out, and you have no one to hang out with on weekends. And now I sound like a loser."
"Hey, it's not like that." She squeezes your arm. "So you don't bother with dating as much, right? Well, that's understandable, especially after those bad experiences."
You appreciate her empathy; it helps to put your worries into words that feel more grounded, as though your concerns were normal rather than yours alone. "Right, but it doesn't help when people ask why I don't have a girlfriend, as if having a significant other is the only important relationship in your life. As though that's all that matters." You realize you're ranting too much and try to rein yourself in. "Sorry, I didn't mean to lay it on you so thick."
But Isa is already leaning into your arm. "Don't be sorry. It makes me feel better about myself to hear that other people have their own problems they have to deal with." She pauses. "If you're comfortable sharing, what happened before this?"
You straighten up. "Are you sure?"
"Of course."
So you do. Tell her about the failures, the heartbreak, how your ex was still in your friend group after the breakup. You shouldn't. This is the exact sort of first-date taboo that should be avoided at all costs. But she listens. She truly listens, and she understands. It feels good, to be heard by someone so receptive. There's a relief in getting it all off your chest, an intimacy in sharing secrets—and it helps that she's more attractive than any other woman you've met.
You've never taken so long eating such a simple dish.
After finishing up your meal, the mood to something light-hearted, and Isa asks if you want some… She's leaning forward, once more showing off her breasts in her crop top, and you stare in awe. She watches you take in every detail, and slowly, seductively, slightly, parts her mouth open. You blink rapidly and force yourself to meet her gaze.
"I said, you want some vegan ice cream?"
"Sure. We can, um, split it." You swallow.
Like nothing happened, she orders the creamy delight and as you tuck into the shared bowl, she savors each spoonful with slow, tantalizing movements of her tongue. Desire surges in your lower regions, and you attempt to adjust yourself subtly.
Isa flashes a provocative smile. "It's okay to look, you know?"
That ice cream must taste really good for her, how deliciously she's sucking on it. Your mind wanders. How might her lips taste, feel, upon yours, upon your neck, upon your chest, down? Shuddering at the thought, you clumsily shove a large scoop of the frozen treat into your mouth, only to regret it as your brain tries to make sense of the contrasting temperature.
When your face contorts from the chill, Isa laughs, and then she seems to catch herself; her eyes go wide. "Oh my god, I'm sorry. I swear, I don't act this way with people I just met. But, it, you know, feels natural with you for some reason. Maybe you bring out the animal in me. Or, err…"
You clear your throat. "No, it's okay. It's hot. Actually, no, it's not okay, don't bring animals into this restaurant."
Isa laughs—another success, another tug at your heart. Her legs graze yours under the table until every nerve ending is on fire; you and Isa end up having a side competition under the table, both of you taking turns touching the other, to see who can make the other react first.
Isa wins.
Her cheeks flush red and you can't stop glancing at her parted lips.
Music. You were talking about… "You said you like R&B, right?" you ask. "You have a really nice voice for it. Ever consider singing?"
"Actually, I've thought about it," she says, straightening up in her chair. "I even took some lessons in high school. They said I could've been big, you know?"
Picturing Isa on stage is easy; she'd have a million followers. "That's really cool," you say. "Maybe you could sing me a song sometime."
"Maybe. But I might need to be in a more comfortable setting. Like, maybe my home or yours." She winks and your stomach drops again. She is toying with you and it's working, maybe too well. The anticipation of her flirty touches has you wanting more and more, the sexual tension building each time her foot or her hand brushes against yours. It feels like she's already undressing you with her eyes.
"That sounds good," you say.
"Yeah," Isa says, "we could do karaoke, drink a bit if you're down for that."
"You have any more talents or is a million hobbies not enough for you?"
"I also learned dance too. I still do that actually, I'm in a club."
You scoff. "Seriously, what are you doing here instead of performing? You could literally be the top idol, right now."
Isa shrugs. "That's just life. Sometimes, we don't get what we want. But then better things come along. And you get to eat ice cream with them." She laughs again, so carefree and happy—and so sexy that it's hard not to feel confident around her. "You're a pretty good thing, if I do say so myself."
You contemplate Isa's sudden musing. "I'd be your biggest fan, trust me."
"But, you know," Isa says, "I could teach you a thing or two about dancing too."
You imagine Isa dancing with you, her body pressing against yours. It's a delightful thought. Unfortunately: "I'm pretty much a fish out of water when it comes to anything involving coordination. Mmm, maybe one day. I can try and surprise you."
"It's okay. Everyone's gotta start somewhere. Or, you can watch me." Her lips curl up. "I like showing off sometimes." Eating her last bite of ice cream, a large dollop falls onto the bare skin between her neck and clavicle, its white and creamy and sticky nature reminding you of how it'd be to leave a warmer mark there. A streak of desire runs through your body, and you almost feel bad at the sudden urge to lick it off her skin. Instead, Isa whimpers at the cold sensation while her fingers scoop up the excess and pop into her mouth, sucking each digit clean.
"I see that," you reply, voice strained, and look away.
How Isa is able to move on from that so easily, you don't know. Your shirt feels too tight on your shoulders, and you shift in your seat to adjust your trousers.
You call the server over for the check—just in time to save you from your horniness—and Isa thanks you with a peck on your cheek that has you almost melting into her arms. The moment your card is swiped and the receipt signed, she takes your hand in hers as though she never wants to let go.
There's a crowd of people outside, bunches of people coming in and out of restaurants and stores, a group of college students dancing to some choreography, but you feel like you and Isa are in your own bubble.
"Thank you for tonight," she whispers in your ear, as the streets are getting loud with all the people. She's warm, and her breath is warm, and her smile is warm, and every moment makes you feel warm. Isa looks at you like she's feeling the same way, clinging to your arm and to your every word and to the promises of more dates.
You continue to sneak glances, ensure you're not dreaming. The setting sun peeks out behind the skyscrapers, shining light onto her bright skin—she may be an angel in her radiance; you’ve never told anyone that on the first date because a pickup line like that would be too cheesy, but you have to tell her anyway. (“Seriously? Fell from what? Ugh!” She rolls her eyes but with a huge smile on her face. Nothing could be more precious.) You didn't realize otherworldly beauty even existed outside of the internet or the cinema, but somehow, it just ended up on your lap for the price of a vegan entrée and some wine.
As you walk through a nearby urban park, Isa squeezes your hand. "I'm kinda surprised."
"About?" You tilt your head.
"How well this is going. I didn't think blind dates were supposed to go this well."
"So this is your first one?" You nudge her with a playful shoulder. "Lucky. So, you wanna do anything else?"
"Do you?"
You scan the shops, assessing your options. There's a stationery store, a convenience mart, and a plethora of designer boutiques far exceeding your pay grade. "Whatever you feel like." Well, hopefully not the latter.
"Let's go there." Isa points to the stationary shop and drags you there.
You browse the aisles, letting go of her hand to flip through the pages of a journal. Isa decides to get herself some notebooks—one covered in red roses and a kitten in shades of pink. You scan the shelves and notice a book on calligraphy and pull it out. After shuffling some items around, you find some pencil grips and grab them for yourself, then find Isa in the pen and pencils section.
"Cute." Though looking at the things she's holding, you're not talking about them.
"Oh, thanks." She shifts the books in her arms and pokes you on the side. "There are some markers and pencils with kittens on them, maybe you can give it as a gift to a friend."
"You can just say you want them. It seems you've got a whole theme going on there. You don't even have a cat," you tease.
She sighs loudly. "No, don't remind me. I wish I could have one so bad."
"I'm more of a dog person," you say, "but kittens aren't half bad."
"Hmph. Kittens are so cute though." Her pout is even more adorable. "Kittens are small, furry, warm."
"And lazy. Mean. Cranky," you counter.
Isa swats your arm. "Noo, they aren't."
With the kitten pencils and markers now secured in your shopping bag, you exit the stationary store and head to the convenience store nearby. After a few minutes of browsing and chatting, you leave with two bags of snacks and drinks. You offer to help carry her bags home, and the two of you are on a bus.
Isa leans her head on your shoulder as she places a hand on your thigh. "Thanks again for tonight."
"Any time," you say, grabbing her hand. "So, uh, are you free next week?"
She shakes her head, looking apologetic. "No, I'm leaving on a camping trip with some friends."
"Ah, that sounds like fun." Your heart sinks. "Well, how about when you get back?"
"Of course! I'll text you as soon as I'm home."
"Okay, great." You don't know what else to say because all you're thinking about is how much you'll miss her. And the ride seems too short for your liking. The two of you are still holding hands, and it feels as if your hands are made for each other: her fingers are warm and delicate as they intertwine with yours, her touch gentle and tender, and everything you never knew you wanted.
"My stop's coming up," Isa says reluctantly.
"I'll walk you home." You pat the bags in your other hand. "These snacks will be useful later."
"Yeah? Okay."
Isa leads the way to her apartment. Her neighborhood is cozy; the streets are lined with small houses, bakeries and cafes, and a playground.
When you reach the entrance of the building, you hand Isa her bags of stuff, not wanting to let go of her hand.
"Thanks for going out with me today," you say. "I hope we can do this again soon."
Isa doesn't let go of your hand either. "I hope so too."
The moment stretches on, neither of you wanting to be the first to leave, but your heart won't stop beating out of your chest. You finally let go of her hand to place them in your pockets, looking elsewhere, anywhere but her eyes. Her red lips call to you.
Isa looks around—there's no one outside at this hour, the sky darkening and stars beginning to dot the sky. She bites her lip—god, how you'd love to bite down on her plump lips, kiss those curves on her face and body until she was left squirming and moaning on her bed. She takes your face in her hands, stands on tiptoes, leans in close to you, and kisses your cheek. Your heart stops. You turn to look at her, stunned by how forward she was, by how good that felt, and oh—now, her lips are on yours. Your head is spinning: her mouth tastes like honey and mint and every flower in the world; she's pulling you down and closer to her while her other hand wraps around your waist; she's whimpering as you pull her body flush against yours by her hip and ass, kissing her back fiercely, deeper and deeper—
You're left wanting more as she pulls away, swaying from side to side. Her hand reaches to stroke your face. You're dazed and speechless.
Isa giggles. "We should do this again. I really enjoyed myself. I hope you did too."
"Yeah," you say, your voice cracking slightly. "I definitely did."
"Okay. Bye bye!" She waves with a warm smile and then runs into the building before you can say anything else.
You've only just met her, but somehow the world is darker again, like you're reminded that it's nighttime.
A text.
> "you could've kissed me sooner :p"
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The weekend zooms by, and the week lurches forward like a train coming out of the station, slow and dragging until it gradually builds up momentum as the minutes fly by. You wonder where Isa is right now as you sit at your desk at work. You wonder if she's thinking about you the way you're thinking about her. Your coworkers pry about what's making you smile, and you can only be honest—that there's a woman who's made you feel alive for the first time in a long time. Meanwhile, you're forced to endure smug, self-congratulatory remarks from Sullyoon about getting you and Isa together. But you don't mind the jests and good-natured ribbing if it means you get to daydream about Isa for hours on end.
Only when you get home after a long day of work that you realize how far along she's gotten under your skin because you haven't been this distracted in years. She's a very well-formed fantasy: you picture making dinner for her, so you're learning vegan recipes, and cutting out everything from soy to eggs—it's no sacrifice when it's all for her. But your imagination ends up taking other shapes too, her sex appeal oozing out of every pore and action between the cuteness. You'd take her apart with your tongue—and fingers, too—before putting her back together again with your dick. When it feels as though you've lost your focus forever, your mind has never been clearer. Every night, you're thinking of Isa before you fall asleep, dreaming of her in bed with you—holding her tight until the sun peeks through the curtains—
> "hi, hi, i'm back. you free right now?"
You answer the text immediately, despite it coming after midnight.
> "heyy, i'm free"
> "cool! i'm at home right now, wanna come over?"
> "sure, omw"
> "great! see you soon!"
Riding the subway, the hum of electricity and chatter fills your ears, and you wish this were a bullet train instead. When you knock, your hands are clammy and your stomach is twisting itself into knots.
The door swings open. There she is. Your eyes drink her in, radiant Isa clad in snug black yoga pants and a loose tank top, crimson hair falling down her shoulders like lava from a volcano. There's your fantasy, your plaguing distraction, your obsession. Whatever you were feeling hasn't gone anyway: everything that was there was real, made more concrete at the sight of her.
You don't really know her, but it feels as though you've missed her so much already.
Isa doesn't say anything. Simply steps closer, looking up at you with half-lidded eyes full of want, and wraps her arms around your shoulders. Your hands roam over her ass and cup it gently while her mouth presses into you. You both sigh into the kiss, and she tugs on your lower lip, sucking and nipping on it. The door clicks shut behind you.
"Hey," you breathe out after finally breaking the kiss. "That was—"
Isa's tongue flicks your lips. "Is it okay if we keep doing that?" Her voice is like silk on your ears. "Please?"
Because the silk forms a web made to ensnare you, you oblige, pulling her close again to recapture her mouth. She's intoxicating, her taste—like strawberries dipped in dark chocolate—her body—soft skin and sweet perfume—and most of all, her sighs—the cutest little creature in need as your tongues glide over each other. Then you move down to give her neck a peck, and she arches up against you.
"I missed you," Isa sighs out.
You groan softly at that. You're in her home, cozy, warm, and familiar, with the soft light of a candle casting gentle shadows on the walls and scenting the air with a floral aroma.
"I literally texted you the moment I got home," she adds. "Sorry if I had to make you rush here."
"Don't worry about it," you reply, placing a kiss on her collarbone. "I couldn't wait to see you."
"Really?" She beams.
"Of course."
She lets go of your shoulders and leads you to the couch. "I'm sure you wanted to plan a real date, and I want that too, but... I really wanted to kiss you again."
"Well, I can't say no to that," you say.
"We'll have plenty of time for dates later. Let's just watch something on TV," she says, eyes crinkled, and you decide that you are honestly fine with whatever Isa wants.
The two of you curl up on one side of the couch, your arm wrapped around her shoulders and hers around your waist, and she turns on some show about a guy who owns a farm or something. Naturally, your distraction returns, made tangible and real as she sits by your side. You can't stop thinking about what's underneath her clothes, what she'll look like after you make her come over and over again.
Isa glances at you, then back at the TV, then back to you. "What?" she asks.
"Just looking at you," you confess as you cup her cheek. "You're so beautiful that I can’t stop."
"You, you're so, ugh, I can't..."
"But I mean it, sincerely." You point at the cat notebook on the table. "You're like that cute kitten, curled up in me."
She scoffs, pushing the notebook aside and swatting your shoulder. "Yah, you're so cheesy." But there's still a smile on her face, so you'll take that as a victory.
As the two of you watch the show, or at least attempt to, neither of you is truly there in spirit. Isa is playing with your fingers, eyeing you like she wants to devour you; your hands stroke her shoulder as if to silently communicate your desire for something more than talking or watching TV; your faces are angled toward each other rather than the television. Your touch ventures lower, toward her sides, then her thighs, and you massage them through the fabric of her pants.
"Your hands. So warm," she says as she takes one of your hands into her own and kisses the center of your palm. "So firm, and strong. It's nice."
There are photos on the walls of Isa with whom you assume are family and friends, as well as some art from artists you don't recognize. As you suspected, there are plenty of cat-related objects scattered about, an entire corner of the bookshelf filled with picture books, figurines of cats and dogs and other cute animals on every shelf. In addition to that notebook you bought her, you also spot the pencils on a table next to her laptop. There's a mug next to that one, with a cat printed on its side.
Isa nuzzles into your neck, staring at you. There's something about her demeanor that makes her seem more shy and unsure of herself than before. Her fingers play with the hem of your shirt, trying to sneak their way underneath while she strokes your cheek with the other hand.
It's not just her home. She is a cat.
Isa is a cat in how she purrs when you scratch behind her ears just right. In how she arches against your body with every brush of your fingertips against her neck. In how she paws at your shoulders, begging for more and more attention, leaning in for gentle, affectionate kisses to her nose. In how she rubs herself against you like she knows what it does to you. In how she mewls when your palms come down to caress her lower back, then squeezes her ass. Isa, in your arms, is the sort of pet that makes you want to spoil her all the time. You're not sure what you did in a past life to deserve a creature so magnificent and adorable and sexy and sweet and lovable.
You call her as she is. "Kitten." It comes out your mouth like a reflex, like a message to yourself more than anything.
A small gasp escapes her lips, and she looks up at you with wide eyes.
Your thumb brushes along her jawline. "It really suits you."
"Again," she pleads.
You whisper "Kitten" again, this time deeper.
Isa shivers and exhales weakly, her hand reaching for yours in a desperate grip. "One more."
"Kitten." You chuckle to yourself, in disbelief, in awe; how could a woman be… "So cute. Kitten. Kitten." Your lips follow your thumb on her jaw. "You like when I say that?"
"Oh, oh, fuck. Yeah. How... how do you know just what to say to me? How to touch me? No one's ever treated me like this before. I've been thinking about you. Especially when I was out in the woods. I was with my friends and it was fun, but..." She pauses, trying to find the right words.
You squeeze her waist. "It's okay, I'm listening."
Isa nods, biting her lip. "I just felt like I needed to see you again. Like something was missing. And when I got home, I just wanted to meet you again. I know it sounds stupid, we just met."
"No, it's not stupid," you say. "I feel the same way. I swear. More, to be honest."
"Okay, good—hngh." Isa gasps as your lips find their way to her neck, and the taste of her soft skin leaves you hungry for more. "Oh, fuh... you see? You make me feel so, so good, oh my god. I wasn't sure if it was just the mood of that date, but no, it's you, it's definitely you."
Her hand sneaks back under your shirt and caresses your bare torso. But then she stops herself, pushing you back.
"You okay?" you ask and then wait patiently for her to calm down.
"This isn't like me," she says. "Or at least, it hasn't been in a long time, or maybe ever. I don't know why I'm acting like this with you, someone I just met."
As she moves her hands restlessly, you reach for them and hold them tightly in yours. "I understand. And I don't mind at all," you say.
Isa looks down at her lap. "It's just… I feel like I can trust you completely. Even though we just met, it feels like we've known each other forever."
"I'll admit, I'm also a little confused," you confess.
"Yeah," she whispers.
"But… I'm all in. I don't care."
A silent peace of acceptance falls between the two of you.
Isa breaks the silence with a shattering statement even if so quiet as to let the world's hum speak over her. "This, this is going to lead to us having sex, right?" Quieter: "I want this. Do you?"
You do. You want it. You want it more than you want any other woman in this city, hell, maybe in the world. You want to know what it feels like to hold Isa tight while you slide into her, what her cries sound like when you fill her, what it would be like to hold her in your arms after fucking her. You want this gorgeous face right next to yours, her hair tickling your face while you're trying to sleep, waking up to a sweet smile. morning kisses. You want her on top of you, taking your cock, her perfect breasts bouncing as she rides you; to be under her with your mouth between her thighs. You want her body against yours, for you to make her dinner, to go shopping with, to sleep next to on the sofa every night.
If there were one last thing you wanted in your life, then it's Isa. You can only nod, dumbfoundedly.
She smiles, then giggles, and you can't help but join in on her giddiness. "Good. Okay. Yeah. Obviously." Isa turns to look you in the eyes. "I've been doing some thinking. And, um, I want to do this, but, I have one rule."
"Yeah? What's that?"
"When you cum, I want you to cum inside me."
Your mouth falls open.
She stammers, her face turning an even deeper shade of crimson, "I'm on the pill, and I don't like condoms, and I just... I've always wanted to feel a guy cum inside of me. And you're so fucking hot and sexy, and I just want it so bad."
Your heart pounds faster and faster, the same way Isa speaks faster and faster.
"I want you to fuck me. Like an animal. And I want you to breed me. I want you to fill me up with your seed while you call me kitten and good girl and..." After she trails off, she buries her face in her hands. "I can't believe I just said all that."
Cup her cheek and stroke it with your thumb. "It's okay." You nod, and you nod harder as if your acceptance is growing immediately. "Yeah, I can do that for you. You've been thinking a lot about this, haven't you?"
"That's an understatement," she admits. "It's crazy. I shared a tent with three friends, and while they were sleeping, I was touching myself. Rubbing my thighs, my hand down my pants. Thinking about you. You're so... I don't know." She shakes her head, unable to find the words to capture the intensity. "And I've been just going crazy trying to figure out why."
"You figure it out?" she asks.
"Yeah, kinda," she says "I guess it's nothing so complicated, and it's nothing I haven't already said... it's how you look at me, how you talk to me like there's nothing else that matters, how you make me feel safe and wanted. And yeah, all that on top of you being really handsome too. It feels nice."
You choke back your response. It feels like you should have something more meaningful to say in response to all of this, but no matter how hard you try, only banalities come to mind.
"I probably need help or something—"
You put your fingers over her mouth. "Stop. Listen, please." You lift her chin to meet her gaze again. "I love how open you are about all this. I don't know if I could even be this honest with myself. Not without you."
Isa exhales in relief, while her body relaxes against yours. "Thank you. I was so worried you’d think I was a freak or something."
"No way. I think it's incredibly sexy." And now that you're talking honesty. "I think I get what happened. It happened to me too."
"What's that?"
"Love at first sight."
Isa blinks, then bursts into laughter and hits your shoulder. "You're such a dork!" She shakes her head but continues to laugh heartily, eyes crinkled and flashing beautifully.
"But doesn't that describe this?"
Isa smirks and leans her head on your shoulder. "Maybe." She pokes your chest with a finger. "Honestly? Yeah. It does. I felt that, too. God, it's so stupid, right?" She laughs again, this time pressing her face into your chest. "We're seriously screwed, huh?"
"Yeah," you say gently. "We are."
Isa grabs your shirt and tilts her head upwards so that she can look at you again. "Like, who even does this?"
She leans towards you, closes her eyes, and kisses you with a gentle passion and small noises.
You run a hand down her back as the other cradles the back of her head. She groans softly into your lips, then parts them with her tongue as she sits up straighter.
"You and me," you say. "This is the kind of shit that happens when you meet your soulmate."
Her eyes fly open, and you chuckle. "Shut up! Stop!"
"If we're gonna be screwed, let's be screwed together."
"What even are you saying right now? You're so... mmm!" Isa lets out a strangled cry as your lips travel downward, planting light kisses on her jawline, her neck, and the crease between her neck and shoulder, before clamping onto the sweet flesh of her shoulder and sucking.
"I'll take care of you, I promise." Your kisses pause a moment, which earns a whimper from Isa as you look up at her.
Once more the silence falls over the two of you like a thick veil. This moment feels like forever, but in the whole history of forever, it has only just begun, too fast for you to comprehend.
"Please tell me to stop, or slow down if you need to," you say. "Whenever you feel uncomfortable, or don't like something I do, just tell me, okay?"
Isa nods. "Of course. Just…"
You don't remember when the two of you started slouching on the couch, or when you put your hand down your pants, or when she started rubbing her palm over her crotch. Your cock has been stiff this whole time, or that a wet spot has formed on her yoga pants. Her juices stain the fabric enough that you can see the outline of her pussy. You and Isa's hands move in unison, eye contact steadfast.
"So you like when I call you Kitten?" you ask.
She whines as she continues to rub her cunt. "Mhm!"
"I'll make sure to do it a lot. Call you good girl too."
"Ohmygod, fuck." Her other hand clutches her chest, pinching the nipple hardening through her tank top.
By now, you're so hard it's painful like it needs to escape or you'll die in the prison of your pants. "You're such a good girl. I love seeing you like this, kitten."
Her whimpers increase in pitch; the shape of her pussy is more pronounced; her pants are soaked to the touch. She's so wet you can smell it, the scent only furthering your lust. "I need it." Isa shuffles into your lap, ready to straddle and kiss you.
You pull back and grab her by the shoulders, turning her around to face the TV like you're a mere extension of the couch.
Isa whimpers. "What?"
Already, you find yourself slipping into your role, guided by your instincts. "You can be patient, can't you? You've been gone for a whole week. What's another ten minutes or however long is left in this show? Trust me."
"Fine." Isa pouts and crosses her arms and leans back against your chest. "I'll wait."
The two of you resume watching the show, and you have certainly missed what was going on because now they're in space or something. Isa wiggles her ass, and you squeeze her hips to still her movements. You're not sure who's being teased more here: your erection might break through your pants, and Isa seems to be on the brink of something with her sighs, with her thighs pressing together.
You whisper her new pet name Kitten in her ear; in response, she mouths out all sorts of names, Daddy, Sir, Owner, or Master. Each one sounds lovely falling off her tongue. With your chin on her shoulder, you intersperse lazy pecks on her cheek or neck.
As the current show about animal husbandry or astronomy or the world ending or whatever comes to a close, Isa leans back, and her earlobe grazes your lips. When you give a gentle nip, she sucks in her breath, and her hand goes to her mouth to contain a tiny yelp.
"Not too loud," you say, gentle but stern.
"Please, please"—her voice cracking—"I can't wait."
"You've done so well." You kiss her jaw. "What a good girl. What do you want?"
"I want to taste you. Please?"
"Yeah? Alright, you've been patient enough. You can have your treat, kitten."
"Thank you, thank you, thank you." Isa clambers off your lap, and then kneels between your legs, grabs your waistband; your cock springs up in front of her face. Her eyes go wide enough that the whites of her eyes are visible around her irises, and her mouth hangs open. Her fingers curl around you. "You're bigger than I imagined."
You must have an insufferable smirk on your face because she's already frowning and playfully swatting you. But just as quickly, lust washes over her features, her eyes narrowing. Isa's gaze is rapt as she strokes you with a feather-light touch, exploring your length with her palms, savoring the skin stretched over hardened steel. "What did you imagine?" you ask.
"About how you'd feel in my hand, in my mouth... in my pussy." She strokes you slowly, almost like petting a small animal.
"Did you think about me filling you up when you were on your camping trip?" You caress her cheek with your hand and run your thumb along her plump lower lip. "Did you picture me breeding you while you rubbed your clit?"
"Yeah. And I imagined you'd be big too. But this..." Isa becomes motionless, and she doesn't break eye contact with your dick.
"Enjoying the view?"
She nods.
"Show me how much then."
Isa closes her eyes and rubs her cheek against your length. She licks your cockhead, swirls over the crown, and dips into the slit. A kiss at the base of your cock, then another halfway down, and another at the very tip, all in that order and the reverse order and every other possible combination—she plants them all in the span of a few dizzying moments. With half-closed eyes somehow still focused on the task at hand, Isa mouths in the general region of your cock without actually sucking it. Not enough. Nowhere close to where you need to be. Just like the first date, Isa is so deeply aware of the effect she has on you, and yet playing at oblivious innocence and naivety. She's a cat playing with its food, but that makes sense because she is a cat.
You take a fistful of her hair, tug firmly, and let out a soft growl.
With a dribble of spit and precum on her chin, her gaze turns up, eyes wide with wonder. "S-sorry. I wanted to kiss it because it's so pretty."
"And I thought I was being a tease. Come on." You grab her by the chin and press your thumb into her bottom lip. "I thought you wanted to taste me."
"Yeah! Of course, I do." Isa nods. She wipes her chin with her arm, and with your other hand, you point your cock at her face.
"Open wide."
Her tongue lolls out. "Aahhh."
Rub the head of your dick along her lips, and Isa captures it with her mouth to suck. She hums contentedly, slurps on the crown while stroking with her palm. She drags her pursed lips down your shaft like she's worshiping vegan ice cream on a spoon. Isa bobs back and forth, careful at first but quickly gaining momentum and depth. Never once does she break eye contact, so eager to please you, to do good for her new owner. She's the perfect kitten.
You pet your kitten. "That's a good girl."
Simple words, simple touches, but they make Isa whimper into your cock. Her fingers work frantically beneath her waistband while she services you. The sound of her pussy's wetness is almost as loud as the sloppy noises of her blowjob.
"Thih, cock, sgooh," she mumbles on your dick. She spits you out, a long string of saliva trailing from her tongue to your dick, and then she smiles up at you like the happy little cat she is. "So good. I shouldn't have waited this long. I wish I'd done this on our first date."
You groan. "You would've done that? On our first date?"
"Mhmm!" Her tongue pokes out between her lips. "You didn't notice me teasing you the whole time? I swear I was being really obvious. And I was so turned on because of you."
"Yeah? Well, you made me feel like I could barely breathe around you, I was so fucking hot for you."
"I know it makes me a slut—"
"No, it doesn't. If it's because of me... you know... soulmates..."
"Yeah, I get what you mean. Even if you're being silly." She smirks. "You don't have a problem with a slutty kitten though, do you?"
"Of course not."
Isa lets out a satisfied sigh and begins pumping your cock again. "Good. Because I would've gone under the table and blown you then and there if you asked."
"You're wild."
"You make me wild," she counters. She plants kisses along your shaft as she fondles your balls, her other hand still busy in her pants. "Or even when we walked through that alleyway. Do you remember? You were following me to my apartment and I swear I could feel your eyes on my ass."
You chuckle. "You weren't wrong. It's such a nice ass."
"Thank you!" In between words, she licks your sack with broad tongue swathes. "But when we got to the alley, I wanted you to bend me over and fuck me from behind. Or push me against the wall and fuck me. Or just shove me to my knees and fuck my mouth until you filled my belly with cum."
You grab her hair again and pull her away. "Hah. It'll be my pleasure to keep you well fed. But, as hot as that sounds, I think we should save that for another day."
As much as you want to continue this conversation, and as much as you want to hear Isa tell you all of her filthy little fantasies while she strokes you and pleases you and praises you, there's something more that's been occupying your mind: the pussy that's been drenching her clothes and making her moan into your cock with every stroke of her fingers.
"You said you had a rule for me. What was it again?" you ask.
Isa takes her hand out of her pants, leaving behind a damp stain on her pants, and licks them clean, like cleaning a mess of vegan ice cream—the image stuck with you quite profoundly—two fingers in her mouth, in and out, in and out, over and over until she finally pulls them out with a wet pop. "Oh yeah, that. I was having such a good time I forgot. But I… I just need it inside me so bad. I've been craving it forever. I can't believe how horny I am."
"That's not all you said though. You wanted me to do something for you, right?"
"Yeah. Right. I want to..." She falters as if the words have become foreign to her at this moment. Isa opens her mouth, closes it, opens it again, and closes it again before finally spitting them out: "I want to feel you cum inside me."
"That's it." You grab her hand. "I'm not just going to cum inside you though. I'm going to breed you. I'm going to make sure your womb is nice and full of my cum. How does that sound?"
"Yeah." Isa nods, nods harder, and ramps up until you see her happier than she's ever been before; she practically melts into your arms as she gets up and plants a kiss on your lips. "Bedroom?"
"Bedroom."
It is much like you imagined: like the rest of her house, thoroughly decorated, a safe space with all sorts of cute trinkets and animal memorabilia, a plush rug on the floor, and a huge bed covered with a soft blanket, all in soft pastels. But a home is not a home without its pet: Isa lays down on her back and rubs her legs together, your dick still at attention for her.
You unbutton your shirt; she likewise divests herself of her clothing—her tank top rises to expose a bit of her flat stomach, she twists when taking off her bra, her breasts fall free, and she peels off her pants with such a slow deliberation that you can't tell if it's for show or if she's simply so aroused that it's painful to move. Her body is slim in the right places but with plenty to squeeze, her thighs and tits soft like marshmallows.
"Daddy," she purrs in response, patting the sheets.
"My turn to taste you."
You climb onto the bed and kneel between Isa's legs. You trace the contours of her thighs, loving how her nipples stiffen at your touch, how she squirms when your hands come too close to her dripping slit. Your fingers graze against the slick skin of her inner thigh, then brush lightly over her outer lips and clit and inner folds, then find their way back to your own lips, where you can't resist licking them clean, tasting your kitten—bitter yet sweet, salty yet fragrant—and Isa writhes in wanton display before you.
"Please. I want you inside me." Isa whines like a kitten in distress, and you plan on taking care of her distress now and always.
You lift her by the hips and shimmy under her body so that she straddles your face. "This first."
Once you steady Isa above you, your tongue flicks against the swollen bud of nerve endings; Isa cries out your name at the first touch. Then, you're licking away, lapping at her wetness that trickles down your throat. Her pussy lips are plump like the ones on her mouth; her clit is just as red as her lips as you pull the hood back with a finger and flick your tongue faster. Her body is still, frozen in rapture. Grab her ass. Push her closer. As you nuzzle into her folds, she leans forward, pressing her face to your hip, while hands grip your thighs and nails dig into your skin.
"Fuck! Daddy! So good," she squeals. "Ahh! Right there. Ohmygod, you're amazing at this. I can't even think... oh fuck!" Isa squeezes tighter around your head, which can't bother you one bit. You feel her warm and heavy weight on you, her body taut above you, and her breaths on your crotch are equally hot as the air around you. You can hear her muffled voice, though it's impossible to tell what she's saying from how much she's slurring her words and drooling onto your legs.
So you stop, wipe her juices from your face, and say, "What was that?"
"C-can I taste you too?" She looks back at you with wide, innocent eyes. "While you eat me out, can I suck your cock? Please? It looks so yummy."
"Hmm." You pretend to consider her offer for a moment and stroke the small of her back with your hands. "Well, since you asked so nicely."
Isa kisses your leg, lapping up the mess she made, before pecking her way toward your cock. Just when you take another lick, her lips wrap around your shaft.
"Fuck," you curse when Isa starts bobbing her head on your cock again. You push your middle finger into her entrance to feel her walls squeeze around it and then press your mouth against her clit with renewed vigor. You start to hear and feel the gags she's making as she chokes on your cock—you wonder how far she'll go if she can take it down her throat.
Nothing distracts you from your delicious treat—you run the flat of your tongue across Isa's outer folds before switching to short licks inside of her, all while savoring the juices that dribble down your face. Her pussy tastes wonderful, a musty sweetness that is as addictive as a drug and just as hard to ignore. The moans that rumble in her throat and echo around your shaft—she is everything. You want to eat Isa's pussy every day, for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. (Does this count as vegan?) As your fingers work feverishly in tandem with your tongue, your hips thrust reflexively into her mouth. She pushes down as if she's trying to impale herself on your dick—until finally, finally, the tip hits the back of her throat. You've never been with a woman who took you so deep so quickly. Here she is managing it without an issue. She was made for this. Your kitten.
Isa pulls back and cries out: "Oh fuck, Daddy, please!" And it's not just that she's gasping for air because of your length: her body goes rigid while her legs squeeze you tight. With a shuddering cry, her juices gush out onto your face while you continue licking and drinking, all the way through the tail end of her climax.
When the trembling dies down, she collapses, body limp atop yours. While aftershocks rock her, two of your fingers slip into her entrance to tease out every bit of her pleasure, curling to find and push that spot deep inside. A third finger eases in, her pussy tender and pliable with arousal, and you can tell that Isa can barely move from how overstimulated she is; yet, when you pull your digits out, Isa whimpers at the emptiness. She nuzzles against your hip, eyes shut tight, and a grin like she's in a dream.
"That's it, kitten," you say. "That's what you deserve."
Isa lets out a cute, pleased noise. "I've never... not like that... I've never felt like that before." Biting her lip, she gazes at your still-erect member, close enough for her warm breath to tickle it. "D-Did you cum? I didn't feel you in my mouth."
"Not yet, kitten. Don't worry." You pat your cockhead against her cheek and nose. "You did such a good job. But I still want to fill you up like I promised."
"Good." She rolls off of you, then curls up on her side and bats her lashes at you. "I'm, um, I'm really, really sensitive now... But, also, I also need your dick inside me. Please."
"Okay, kitten." You sit up on the bed and whisper in her ear, "But only because you said please so nicely."
Isa's legs wrap around you like she's done this a hundred times before. Her eyes are so tender and sweet; it's almost enough to make you want to give up and hold her to your chest forever and forget about sex and cuddles. Almost.
You lay her down in the middle of the bed, a princess, a beloved pet, an object of your desire and adoration. She spreads herself for you, displaying her raw pussy lips and erect clit—she must be desperate for your cock to still be this swollen and needy after such a thorough orgasm. Like a test, you slap your shaft against Isa's pussy, earning a gasp as her body jerks upward in response. "I'm going to breed you, just like you asked."
"Yes," she says, with the widest, most joyful smile on her face while crossing her heels behind your back. "Fill me up with your cock, Daddy. I'm waiting."
"It'll hurt a little though." You thrust slowly along her cunt—her wetness coats the head of your cock as it pushes inside the tiny gap between her clit and the rest of her pussy—snug, snug, too snug for entry without some force.
"I don't care—ah!" She winces when you pull back and rub circles with the tip of your cock. "I've waited so long. And I know I'm safe with you."
You test the waters, dipping your cockhead once again, then a few dozen more times. Despite her discomfort, or because of it, she's trying to push back against you with every movement. She's so sensitive it looks painful—you're barely touching her with your cock and already she's squirming and whimpering.
"Give. Give it. Give it to me," she pleads.
One deep breath, two deep breaths, and then you capitulate, push inside—the hardest thing in the world meets and splits open the easiest/softest. A perfect match. The walls of her cunt stretch around your thickness, clinging on like they're never going to let go. Though you sink deeper and deeper with ease, the friction makes her squeal. Her back arches off the bed, she claws at the sheets, and her mouth falls open with a gasp that becomes a mewl that becomes a squeal that becomes a litany of garbled noises. It's a slow process, taking your time to ensure she can feel every vein, every contour of your cock. When your length carves out space in her pussy and hits that sweet spot inside her, she lets out a sigh and a whimper—she feels fuller than she has in her entire life.
"You good?" you ask.
She nods rapidly and flaps her arms at you; when you're within reach, she yanks you down for a sloppy kiss that mostly consists of sucking on your bottom lip while her tongue explores.
"You're such a good kitten," you whisper between kisses. "So good at taking my cock."
She mewls into your mouth and bucks her hips upwards. "But it's not enough. Need more."
You give a few shallow thrusts of your dick, your forehead against hers as you examine her reaction. "More? Is this better?"
"More." Whatever discomfort or pain is left on Isa's face melts away. She grinds as though to get closer, though she already has your whole length inside her. "Please."
You slam the length of your cock into Isa with a grunt—whatever thoughts are left in Isa's brain evaporate. Your pace is slow and deliberate, so she tries to fuck herself on you faster than you're fucking her; whenever you pull out, her hips follow after you, like she can't stand for your cock to leave her empty for so long.
You give one of her breasts a firm squeeze while your thumb rubs over her firm nipple. With your free hand, you slip two fingers into Isa's mouth; she accepts them readily, her tongue swirling around your digits. She sucks on your fingers till they're dripping with her spit—your other hand alternates between both breasts now. They deserve all the attention they get, and then ten times over. Isa's breasts aren't the biggest, but they're the prettiest: perky with small pink nipples; they bounce enticingly with your movements. When you squeeze them, she starts grazing your back with her nails while her heels dig into you. Her walls spasm and clench around your girth—her orgasm is imminent.
"Daddy, please," she whines. "Need to cum!"
"Kitten, we just got started." You pull your cock out of her pussy and slide it between her labia, between the plushness of her folds. You lean down to plant soft pecks on her forehead, on her eyelids, and then down to her lips again as you continue to rut against her pussy. "Aren't you sensitive?"
Isa lets out the cutest growl and shakes her head. "N-noouh... It, it doesn't matter. You stretch me open so good."
You slide your hands under Isa's ass; she sits up, making it easier for you to carry her off the bed. With her ankles still hooked around each other like a seatbelt, you stand upright, bringing Isa up with you—she's light as a feather as buries her face in the crook of your neck. Even as you take a step back, away from the bed, Isa continues to rub her sensitive core against your throbbing shaft. Maybe here, she's not so much a kitten, but a puppy whose tail wags when happy or excited.
Next to her nightstand, you press Isa against the wall with your body while you adjust your grip on her ass—in this position, your fingers sink deep into the supple flesh. You lower your hips to angle your cock towards the entrance of Isa's cunt and let gravity do its work: she sinks onto your dick with a squeal. Isa gasps sharply as your cock hits a new part of her insides, and she claws at your back harder than ever. You can almost see the outline of your shaft through her taut midriff with how deeply you're penetrating her.
Isa mutters, "So much of Daddy's cock is inside me. It feels so good. Harder. Fuck me harder."
"Alright, don't say I didn't warn you."
You start bouncing her like a cheap toy, pulling her up until only the tip is inside of her, then slamming her back down to the hilt again with enough force to make the pictures on her wall rattle. Isa can do little more than hold onto you for dear life, your cock her only tether to this world—her eyes have gone blank again, and you can feel her going rigid in the same way she did earlier when you made her cum. You continue fucking into her with no pause in your rhythm, no rest for Isa's aching cunt.
"Cum with me, please! Please!"
"Gonna breed you so hard, kitten, fuck, fuck, I'm cumming," you manage to say, and that's all you can muster before the tidal wave of orgasm overtakes you and washes all other thoughts and feelings away. You pump her with everything you have, and it's a struggle to keep your balance, as you're responsible for the weight of both of you.
A strangled sound escapes Isa's lips, head thrown back, a rosy tint on her chest and face, nipples rock hard, breasts squished against your chest, eyes closed, brow furrowed, teeth gritted, thighs squeezing your hips with unbelievable force—it's an allergy-long list.
You know that she's feeling everything you're feeling. With every spasm of her walls around you milking you, your seed erupts inside of her and floods her womb. Your hips are a blur as they pump into Isa's warmth again and again. Her cunt is a hot and sticky mess with juices leaking down her inner thighs—you feel it all around your cock, dripping onto the carpet below—and you're adding thick rope after rope of your cum into the mix. Your knees are weak; they wobble like jello, but you fight to stay upright. Isa is still conscious—somewhat—and she clings to you for support and safety as if she wants to stay connected with you forever. You fuck her until neither of you can take it anymore, her silken heat pulsating with sensitivity. And then, she sighs, and you feel her body go slack, and you're ready to do the same.
The two of you collapse onto the bed, sweaty, tired, satisfied. There's an instant where you consider pulling out, but you don't. You can't; there's nowhere else to go and no one else to be. Isa asked you to cum inside, and you have, so you'll stay inside until your dick softens enough to slide out naturally. You enjoy the hot, slick feel of her insides too much anyway to want to pull out so quickly, the cream leaking out from around your cockhead. You also just want to bask in this afterglow with your precious kitten.
Isa curls up against you as she wraps her limbs around your body and pulls you close, and you feel a strange surge of emotion well up inside of you as you hold her in return. It's not the same euphoria from climaxing or even the physical warmth of sex. It's something deeper, something you've never felt before.
"How was your first time feeling cum inside?" you ask after a moment of silence.
"G-good." She grips your wrist tightly as her face flushes red again. "Even better than I imagined. And the fact it's yours... it makes me feel all fuzzy inside," she finishes softly.
You kiss her cheek. "I know what you mean."
"I can't believe it." Isa purrs as she rubs her ass against your limp cock. "You're really good at that," she murmurs while nuzzling into your neck. "What the hell. And you're telling me you had bad luck with girls before?"
You shrug. "I don't know. They couldn't handle my dick. And maybe I'd get too rough and... ah, never mind." You feel ashamed admitting these things, but Isa is so understanding. She rubs your cheek and smiles back at you.
"Hey, if they can't take it, that's their loss." Isa kisses you sweetly, then giggles.
There's something about the way Isa acts and talks and is, in general, that puts you at ease—as if she can accept you no matter who you are or what you do, which is funny because she barely knows anything about you."Kitten," you say to yourself, like a habit that's formed whenever you see her now. "Seriously, it's perfect for you."
"I love it." Isa responds. "And I love hearing it come out of your mouth."
"Actually. I can think of something better."
She stares up at you, her eyes half-lidded, her smile lazy and contented. "What is it?" she asks.
"Mine. My kitten."
Isa looks away, embarrassed. "Oh, well, okay then, I'm yours."
***
The more Lee Chaeyoung, your lover, opens up to you, the more she reveals how compatible the two of you are. You watch horror movies together, enjoy the same drinks, have similar tastes in food. She confesses a bit too eagerly that she loves to cook, finding it more of a challenge for her than anyone else. Best of all, her sense of humor clicks with yours. You feel like you could just talk for hours, whether it's idle chatter, playing games together, or simply relaxing and enjoying her company. Most importantly, the connection you two feel is immediate; your bodies, your minds, every part of you so in tune.
And then there are those wild fantasies that dance within her mind. It drives you to embark on late-night research sessions, delving into the depths of the internet to discover how best to fulfill her desires. While you cherish these wholesome moments with Isa, the temptation to give in becomes increasingly difficult to resist. With someone as naturally sensual as her, it's only a matter of time before you succumb. You get the funny feeling that Isa might find a way to substitute sleep with sex if given the chance.
After an exhausting day of work, you're at your usual rendezvous point with Isa, but with a few of her friends for dinner. Isa's eyes lock onto yours—you would travel to hell and back if it meant getting to see her smile like that; fortunately, the meeting spot is only a block away from the mundane inferno of your job. She runs up to you and jumps into your arms, her legs wrapped around your waist as she kisses you deeply. Her friends respond with various levels of disgust, amusement, and jealousy.
"How was your day?" she asks as she climbs down.
"It was okay, I guess. A lot better now that I got to see you." You stroke her cheek and kiss her forehead. "Sorry for being late. I had something important I needed to pick up."
"Oh?" A raise of her brow.
You reach into your pocket and pull out a small bag with a collection of hair ties. "Because you lost your favorite one a few days ago," you say.
Her eyes light up when she sees what's inside. "Thank you!" She wraps her arms around your neck and showers your face in kisses.
"Of course," you respond through stifled laughter. "You wouldn't stop whining about it."
She pulls back, mock offense written on her face before she eyes the small gift again with delight twinkling in her eyes. You share an affectionate bump as you return towards where her friends are waiting, the streets alive with the hum of nightlife and the liveliness of the city's residents.
As you all arrive at Sumin's apartment, you feel nervous, excited, and jittery all at the same time. You've only heard about these friends, and now there's all this pressure. Isa keeps staring at you and flashing you little knowing grins, and you can't stop smiling back at her. As you both sit down on the sofa and watch her friends cook in the kitchen, she throws herself into your lap, sitting with her legs draped over yours.
Woah," you say, surprised. "Are you trying to show off in front of your friends? Everyone's watching, you know."
Isa chuckles, leaning back against your chest and looking up at you. "Maybe. Do you want me to stop?"
You smile back at her, squeezing her thigh. "Uhh, a little, to be honest. I don't want your other friends to think of me as some douche."
She rubs her thumb across your palm, nodding in agreement. "I think I've made it obvious how much I like you, but you're right, you're right." Isa pouts, getting off your lap, though it's too late; you feel a stirring in your groin as you look at her slender body.
Just then, her friends finish up the meal, and everyone sits down to eat. Isa insists on sitting next to you, and she keeps smiling and looking over at you as you eat together. "Did you like the beef?" she asks. "I can cook it better than any you've ever had."
"Yeah, it was really good," you reply. You're still hungry. Not food.
"How did you two end up together?" Chaehyun asks before she drinks some more beer.
Sullyoon raises her hand, a grin on her as always when talking about you too. "Oh, it was me." She gives Isa a wink. "I actually set them up because Isa didn't have the balls."
Isa pouts. "Hey, that's not true."
You chuckle, enjoying the way her cheeks are flushed as her friends tease her.
"Besides, that was just the first step. What really sealed the deal was all the snacks he bought for me at the store," she says, grinning proudly.
"Really?" Sumin asks?
"Actually," you interject, "it was love at first sight when we saw each other."
"Eww," she says, rolling her eyes.
You grin sheepishly, putting your hands up defensively. "Well, it's true! We just... I don't know, there's just something about her that feels right."
Isa smiles and bites her lip, a faint blush spreading across her cheeks as she stares at you with dreamy eyes. "Yeah," she agrees softly.
There's a short lull in the conversation as everyone processes what you both have just said. You try to break the mood: "But really, it was the snacks. I'm serious!"
That earns a few laughs from everyone. Isa's hand rests on your shoulder, and you feel her fingers brushing against the back of your neck, brushing the goosebumps she just made. She bites her lip, looks over at you, and you can tell she's dying to get her hands on you, too.
The rest of the night goes along without a hitch as you play some games with everyone, eat more food. Afterwards, you walk with Isa, and she reaches out to grab your hand as you walk. The street lamps act as loyal guides, casting their gentle glow upon the silent, deserted roads, illuminating your path as you journey towards the car.
When you finally arrive at your destination, an electric charge lingers in the air, and if you look up there should be thunder clouds and static electricity where there's an inky black night sky, and kablam—Isa's lips meet yours, and there comes the strike.
As you reluctantly part, gasping for air, Isa leans her head against yours, her finger tracing a delicate path along your cheek. "I had so much fun tonight," she murmurs.
You run a hand through Isa’s red hair, a darker and more faded color. "Yeah. I did too."
"So… my place again?" she asks. It feels like the sort of question she'll be asking a lot.
You meet her gaze, giving her a nod and a renewed kiss. Opening the car door, you allow Isa to slip into the passenger seat.
"Did you like hanging out with my friends?" Isa asks.
"Yeah, a lot." When you step into the vehicle, you take in the new car smell; it's only a few days old. But more overpowering is Isa's hand cream as you take her hand and kiss it again, and again, and again.
She laughs as you tickle her with pecks. "They liked you too! I didn't think you would click so well with them." She pauses. "They also thought we were really cute together."
You start up the car and pull off, eager to get the two of you back to her place. "I'm glad. That means I get to keep being around your friends, which means I get to spend more time with you."
Her cheeks flush and her mouth quirks upward. "Okay, I have a question for you, what do you want to do when we get to my place?" Her tone is teasing and seductive.
"Hmm, I don't know. What do you want me to do to you?"
She grins and giggles, but doesn't answer right away. Her legs cross over each other as she ponders her response. You look at her and smile. You love how cute she looks when she's thinking, and you especially love when she's thinking of you. "We could… cook something. Together. Or, you know, you could read me a book to sleep and—no. Th-the only thing I can think of is last time... God, I don't want you to think of me as some kind of pervert."
"Hey," you say softly. "I like your perversion." Your fingers run along her thigh, brushing against her inner leg. "I've got some things in mind that I'd like to try myself, so it's fine."
"I can't even sleep in my own couch or bed properly without thinking about you fucking me," she mumbles, before biting her lip and staring out the window with a frown.
"I'm sorry."
She waves your apology away dismissively. "No! It's not that bad, I'm definitely exaggerating. But sometimes, before I sleep, I get into the same position and..." Her voice trails off as her eyes close and her eyebrows furrow together. Her hands move on their own, miming the same actions as they had before, fingers running down her torso, over her breasts, her hips. As quick as her hand makes it there, she stops, and the blush deepens on her face. Her eyes flutter open and meet yours, then flick to the road ahead of you. "Yeah," she says, trying to shake off the thoughts plaguing her mind.
"Woah," you say. You reach out and touch her thigh, running your fingertips along the smooth, cool material. "You okay?"
"Yes." Her gaze fixes on the passing scenery beyond the window. "Just... really turned on. And we still have a drive ahead."
You chuckle. "Well, I'll try my best to distract you."
Isa groans as you run a hand up her thigh and squeeze gently. She grabs your wrist. "Ah, ahhh, that feels nice. But don’t get carried away. Crashing isn’t sexy."
You laugh, nodding. "Right, right." You pull your hand back, focusing on the road.
The two of you have more mundane conversations, but somehow the topic comes up: "So you know how you... um, call me kitten?"
A knowing smile tugs at your lips as you lean into her words. "Yep."
Her cheeks flush, and she playfully averts her gaze, her voice tinged with a bashful giggle. "What if, uh, we played more with that?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well, you know, since I love cats so much and we can't even have one." She holds up the cat plushie you keep in the car for good measure.
You also note the word "we" and smile to yourself. "Are you sure that's the reason? Not just you being horny."
"Yah!"
"Alright, alright," you concede, the playful tone of your voice mirroring hers. "So, what kind of things were you thinking of? Other than a collar, obviously."
"And a leash."
"Well…" Never mind, you don't mind eschewing some realism here.
"But, yeah, that was the start. That I kinda, you know, wanted to try. But also, you were really good at taking charge. How you teased me and made me wait and rewarded me when I'm good. More of that. I want you to claim me and own me and…" She trails off, too embarrassed and blushing to say anymore. It's incredibly cute to watch her squirm as she tries to bring up the rest of her ideas. With your research, you already have an idea of what sorts of things she might be into, but it’s best to hear from her.
"Go on, kitten, talk," you command, putting a heavy weight in your tone, and she almost immediately lets out a sigh of relief.
"Please, be patient," she whines, laughing. Her voice drops to a whisper, the lust in her eyes undeniable. "You could be the, uhm, dominant one and, uh, I would, do whatever you want me to."
"That’s what I figured."
"Right." She can't even look at you. "I meant, you know, really getting into it, the whole roleplay thing."
The mere idea makes you want to put the pedal to the floor and reach Isa's place as quickly as possible, but you calm yourself.
She continues: "So, you could, maybe pet me, and I would purr."
You pat the head of the cat plushie next to Isa, who places a hand on it, giggling. "Yeah, and you have such a cute little kitty mouth and even your tongue is like a little lappy tongue."
Isa turns even more red and stops talking, covering her face with her hands and laughing. You chuckle, and after a moment she gathers her wits and puts her hands down.
"Yeah," she confirms, her voice filled with both excitement and shyness. "And maybe... you can give me commands to learn some tricks. Like waving my paws at you or shaking my head no." Her words spill forth in a rush of anticipation.
And again, you want to note that’s less of a kitten thing and more of a puppy thing, but you don’t mind making an exception for her. A playful glint dances in your eyes. "And you're meant to be my plaything, a slutty... pet kitten for your owner?" you suggest, your voice heavy with desire and dominance.
She nods, her brain slipping like a broken record. "Yes," she breathes, her voice barely above a whisper. "Everything you said... and maybe you could really punish me if I'm naughty."
Isa's breath hitches, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip as she considers the question. "However you see fit. But maybe... you could take your belt and use it to smack my butt when I'm being naughty." She pauses, her voice growing softer. "Actually, I kinda like it when you're really rough with me. Like... how I get all dizzy when you tire me out. And it's hot when you treat me like a toy, like when you carried me… fuck. You could even tie me up or choke me, if that's what you want."
"Or I could just use a gag if I felt lazy," you say playfully, the possibilities swirling in your mind.
Isa laughs, a sound that holds both excitement and a hint of anticipation. Yet, beneath the laughter, a whimper escapes her lips. "Speaking of which," she murmurs, "I wanted to buy some things for this." Her eyes meet yours briefly before darting away. Isa squirms in her seat, her cheeks flushed as she busies herself with searching for the necessary items online. The soft glow of the screen illuminates her face, casting a warm and inviting light upon her features.
A smile graces your lips as you pat her head. "Good girl," you praise, your voice filled with affection. "I like it when you're helpful."
Eventually, she gives you directions to some store, and you continue driving in comfortable silence, each lost in your own thoughts.
The two of you arrive, and you realize quickly that it's a sex shop, the neon sign flickering in the night, windows blackened by curtains. The car engine purrs to a halt.
"I was surprised it's still open," Isa says.
You glance at the shop's entrance, its door ajar, beckoning you inside, even if the rest of the exterior looks quite sketchy. "There are probably customers who can only shop for this kind of thing at night," you reply with a shrug.
Stepping out of the car, Isa leads the way, her stride filled with confidence. The store's interior greets you with emptiness, save for a bored employee who looks as if he'd rather be anywhere else. Undeterred, you grab a shopping basket, its metal handle cool against your palm, and begin to venture down the aisles, searching for the items you need. "I think we could get the collar and leash here," you suggest.
Your eyes scan the shelves until they land upon a display of collars and harnesses. Among them, one catches your attention—a delicate collar adorned with a tiny bell that tinkles with every movement, along with matching cat ears. You pluck it from its hook and hold it up for Isa to see. "This one is cute," you say, excitement lacing your voice.
Isa's eyes light up as she nods in agreement, her fingers reaching out to caress another collar with a keyhole cutout in the front. "This would work too.”
Together, you gather the collars and leashes, placing them gently into the basket. Your exploration continues, which leads you to a section dedicated to all things furry. A playful smirk tugs at your lips as you remark, "I guess we're furries now?"
Isa chuckles "I don't think just wearing cat ears makes me a furry."
Your search within the furry section yields a couple of tail plugs, their soft fur tickling your fingertips. You also grab a simpler metal butt plug, its smooth surface gleaming under the store's fluorescent lights. "But this part of the store has a lot of relevant things for us," you remark.
Isa's laughter echoes through the aisles as she plucks a box from the shelf and holds it up to her head. "Do you think this will look cute on me?" she asks, her eyes sparkling.
Taking the box from her hands, you read the label—a kit to transform Isa into a feline goddess, complete with cat ears, a bushy tail, and mitts made of faux fur for your hands to poke out from. She didn't have to ask—you can already picture it. "Hmm, I think so."
You grab a different set, one without the mitts instead. Your exploration of the shop continues until you find yourselves in the fetish and roleplay section, a realm filled with endless possibilities. Bondage ropes, gags, cuffs, tape, and a blindfold join the basket.
Isa's voice breaks through the silence, her tone filled with awe and amusement. "Wow, we are really going all in."
"Well, I mean, I guess we could gift these if we're not using any of them?"
"That's true. Although, you know," she pauses, her voice lowering to a whisper, "I think I'd prefer to keep them, just in case."
You nod, and continue browsing through the selections, adding more and more to the shopping basket. You eventually end up with a pile of toys and accessories, and you head to the counter to check out. The transaction complete, you grab the bags from the car and begin the journey back home.
The weight of your purchases fills the car. "Don’t think I’ve ever spent that much," you jest, bags as passengers of the back seats. "I could've bought a refrigerator with what we got today. You looked pretty excited."
Isa nudges your elbow gently as you resume driving. "Aww, c'mon. It wasn't that much."
"It's a lot. But nothing says we have to use all of these tonight."
"I had fun anyway," she says, her eyes lighting up with a spark of mischief. "Like, I didn't even know they could sell a dildo in that size."
You shake your head in disbelief. "I definitely did not know that either."
The drive home is quieter now; perhaps both of you need some time to digest everything or maybe exhaustion has settled upon your shoulders, remarkably late to be shopping. Regardless, the silence wraps around you like a cozy blanket, comforting and familiar. You steal glances at Isa, her head nodding as she struggles to keep her eyes open, tiredness finally catching up with her.
As you approach the parking lot of her place, she turns to you, a yawn escaping her lips as she stretches. "So, are we really doing this tonight?"
You study her tired expression, a gentle smile curving your lips. "Looks like you don't have the energy for it."
"Mmm," she hums in agreement, her eyelids heavy. "But we can at least try on the collar, right? And maybe a leash too."
You park the car and enter her apartment hand in hand. Both of you are too weary to engage in anything too active. Sitting on her bed, you gaze into each other's eyes, a silent understanding passing between you. With gentle hands and loving intent, you help Isa put on the collar and leash. In this quiet moment, the weight of your purchases fades into insignificance.
She leans against you and nuzzles her head into the crook of your neck, finding solace in the warmth of your embrace. "Mmm, this feels nice," she whispers with a soft smile.
You wrap your arm around her, your touch grazing her back with tenderness. "Yes, it does," you respond, your voice laced with warmth as you press a gentle kiss upon the crown of her head.
Moments pass as you revel in the closeness and intimacy shared between you two. The weariness of the day slowly takes its toll on Isa, her eyes heavy with sleep as she falls into a peaceful slumber. You gently remove the collar from her delicate neck before joining her in a state of restfulness.
As dawn breaks, the darkness still cloaks the world beyond the windowsill, casting a serene atmosphere within the room. Isa lies beside you, her vivid red hair splayed gracefully across the pillow. Shifting slightly against the headboard, you sit up, observing her serene form.
Isa stirs beside you, murmuring softly in her sleep. Your hand instinctively glides through her hair, caressing her strands in an attempt to lull her back into peaceful dreams. Gradually, her restlessness subsides, and she curls up on the bed, her head resting gently in your lap. You continue to pet her, savoring the sensation of her soft hair cascading through your fingers, feeling the tension in her body gradually dissipate under your gentle touch.
Reaching over to the nightstand, you retrieve the collar and leash. With utmost care, you secure the collar around her neck, clasping it tenderly. Tugging gently on the leash, she shifts, turning onto her side as she gazes up at you with sleepy eyes.
"Hello," she murmurs softly, her voice raspy with sleep.
A playful twinkle dances in your eyes as she playfully paws at your pants, her actions betraying her half-awake state. "Hi, kitten," you respond, your words infused with affection.
Her lips curl into a contented smile, her eyes still closed. "Mmm, that feels lovely," she purrs, the warmth of her breath against your groin causing you to grow. She nuzzles her face closer, her cheek rubbing gently against your clothed erection, eliciting a small moan of pleasure from her lips.
"You like that, don't you?" you whisper, pulling on her leash gently. "You like feeling your owner's cock on your face."
"Mmhmm," she mumbles in response, nodding with sleepy acquiescence. Her tongue slips out to moisten your clothed shaft, tracing teasing patterns that leave droplets of saliva upon the fabric.
You allow her to continue. Your hand continues to caress her hair while pulling lightly on the leash. She is fully awake now, but she maintains the guise of half-consciousness, her hands exploring your thighs, your hardened length, and eventually slipping beneath your waistband to cup your testicles. A quiet groan escapes your lips as her fingers tease and stroke your sac, intensifying the pleasure that courses through you.
Driven by desire and the intoxicating sensation of her touch, you slowly lower your pants and boxers. With closed eyes, Isa remains blissfully unaware of the freedom you have granted your erection. A mischievous giggle escapes her lips as your engorged shaft brushes against her nose.
"I'm sorry," you whisper.
"It's okay," she says, her voice heavy with sleep. "I love how big and heavy your cock is."
You drink in the sight before you, captivated by the image of her mouth agape, her tongue peeking out in anticipation. She searches for your shaft without needing to see it, her breath hot upon your skin. Finally finding your tip, she lavishes it with lazy kitten-like licks that send waves of pleasure cascading through your body.
Isa begins to take your cockhead into her mouth, her movements unhurried as she places it delicately between her lips, producing a gentle hum of satisfaction. A quiet moan escapes your throat as you feel her warm and wet mouth enveloping your tip, her tongue swirling sensually along your shaft. Her fingers find their way to the base of your cock, stroking it with a gentle rhythm.
The leash tightens around your hand as a surge of heat courses through your veins. Isa continues to suckle on your tip with an air of carefree abandon, contentedly humming and purring against the sensitive flesh. Her other hand tenderly caresses your testicles, eliciting a louder moan of pleasure from your lips.
If not for the telltale signs of her increasing arousal, you might still believe the façade of her half-asleep state. Yet, her hips writhe and rise in the air, her thighs rubbing together in a desperate bid for more. Entranced by this view of her unbridled desire, your hand descends to grab and squeeze her ass through her sweatpants. She gasps in response, her hand quickening its pace along your length. The passion between you intensifies as she strives to maintain her lips around your cockhead while her fingers twist around your engorged shaft. The pleasure becomes nearly overwhelming, the warmth and wetness of her mouth coupled with the tantalizing flicks of her tongue sending you hurtling towards the precipice of climax. It is then that you pull on her leash, your voice laden with a mixture of restraint and longing.
You reluctantly withdraw the pulsating erection from her entrancing mouth, causing Isa to emit a soft whimper as you gently lift her to meet your gaze. Her eyes are wide, her cheeks flushed, and her lips swollen from your earlier intimacy. The sight of her arousal is almost too much to bear.
"How about we pick up where we left off last night?" you suggest, your voice barely above a whisper.
Isa nods eagerly, her eyes lustful and full of desire. "Yes, Daddy," she whispers back, her voice trembling with anticipation.
You tenderly stroke her hair, the gesture eliciting shivers from her delicate frame. "Good girl," you murmur, your voice filled with affection. "Now, take off your clothes for me and get on all fours on the bed."
She obeys your command, her movements graceful as she removes her shirt and sweatpants. Her breath catches in her throat as her breasts bounce freely, their curves captivating your gaze. With each article of clothing discarded, her thick hips are bared to you, an invitation that sets your pulse racing. The sight of her thighs, smooth and inviting, arouses a primal desire within you. Your palm glides across their soft, pillowy skin, reveling in the exquisite sensation.
You reach down and retrieve the bags you left on the floor, your fingers grazing over the array of items until they land on the cat tail plug nestled among the contents. The plug end gleams in the soft light, its sleek surface inviting to the touch. With a gentle caress, you turn it over in your hand, feeling the plushness of the fluffy tail against your skin. Running the tail plug over Isa's body, you revel in the power it holds. The toy traces a path along her bare chest and down her bare legs, the contrast of the cold metal and the soft fur eliciting a delicious squirm from her. Your voice laced with a hint of mischief as you ask, "Have you ever tried anything anal before? Or this type of toy?"
Isa shakes her head bashfully, yet there's a palpable eagerness in her eyes as she holds her hands behind her back, offering herself to you completely.
"I'm going to have to prepare you then," you say, taking out a bottle of lube and applying it generously to the plug. You take the bottle with you as you settle on your knees and crouch down behind her ass, holding the toy in one hand. Your index prods the underside of her tailbone, and she gasps as you reach down, kissing her plump asscheeks. "Is this okay?" you ask, wanting to make sure.
"Y-yes, Daddy," Isa stammers. You drag the pad of your finger against her skin, eliciting a tremor from her and a new gasp that drops into a long moan, and then you take that as a cue to rub it down her crack, tickling her pussy along the way. "O-oh, Daddy!" she whines, humping your hand in need.
"Kitten, remember." As you speak, you press two of your fingers between her plump folds, your thumb and forefinger gently squeezing her clit. She wiggles her ass, squeaking. "If you want to be a good girl, you have to be patient."
"Daddy," she begs, "please, please, more..." She bucks again, her wet folds clamping around your fingers and your knuckles squeezing her entrance. You rub them up and down, spreading her juices. She's a sticky mess, her arousal dripping down your hand, and you grin, pleased.
"No, not yet. We have to get your ass ready first." Your pointer digit now slick, you squeeze a dollop of lube in your other hand, and you smear it along her asshole.
"Ah!" Isa cries, tensing up at the sudden cold. You shush her, rubbing her pucker with your fingertip, then gradually pressing your lubed finger into her, past the tight ring of muscle, feeling the walls of her ass tense around your digit. You move slowly, pushing your finger further into Isa, letting her get used to the sensation. You reach the second knuckle, and you can feel her starting to relax, her walls loosening up around you. "Ohhh," she moans, her hands balled into fists on the bedsheets.
You curl your finger, pushing against her walls, trying to get her accustomed to the sensation. She moans louder, her hips bucking back against your hand. She seems to be enjoying herself, so you continue, slipping another finger into her ass, this time your middle finger.
"Ah! Daddy!" She cries out, her back arching and her ass pushing against your fingers, taking them deeper into her. You continue, working your fingers in and out of her ass, stretching her out. "It feels so good, Daddy," she moans, her voice trembling.
You pull your fingers out of her ass, and you place the tip of the plug against her, gently pushing it in. "Here’s the plug now," you explain, as you press it against her entrance. "You need to relax, kitten, and let it in."
With a whimper, Isa goes pliant, and you exert steady pressure. Her brow furrows as the plug breaches her entrance, slowly sinking into her clutching heat. She winces as the girth spreads her wide, and you pause, giving her time to adjust to the intrusion.
When her expression smooths, you resume pushing, watching inch after inch disappear until only the flared base remains nestled between her cheeks. The furry tail sways with each squirm of her hips.
You caress the warm skin of her backside. "How does that feel, kitten?"
"So good, Daddy," she breathes, gazing at you through heavy lids. "I didn't know my ass could stretch like that."
A surge of pride washes over you as you reward her obedience with words of affirmation. "Good girl," you murmur, pressing a kiss against her ass before redirecting your attention to her dripping-wet pussy. With a teasing motion, you spread her folds apart, running your fingers up and down her slick slit, teasing her entrance. Her thighs fall open with a needy whine. "I think we should have some breakfast first," you say, unable to keep the grin from your voice.
She whines. "Nooo, but I, I need your cock, in me, or your fingers, or anything—"
"Not yet," you say sternly. "You have to be patient. And if I tell you to wait, then you'll wait."
Isa pouts in response, her bottom lip jutting out in a sulky pout, but ultimately nods her agreement. You remove the leash from her collar, and the two of you make your way towards the kitchen. As she walks, there’s a slight awkwardness to her gait, a subtle gracelessness that somehow only adds to her allure. Her posterior sways enticingly with each step, captivating your attention as you trail behind in a purposeful slowness. She knows what she’s doing too: the seductive undulation of her hips from side to side makes her tail bounce playfully, and she casts a mischievous smile over her shoulder.
You follow her lead, entering the kitchen where you open the fridge and begin gathering ingredients. Your eyes flick towards Isa, who’s settled herself onto a barstool. Her legs are spread wide, and her fingers tease and rub at her own clit. The tail plug nestled between her legs seems like the most natural extension of her body. A mixture of surprise and intrigue crosses your face. "What are you doing?" you ask, walking over to her.
She blinks up at you with feigned innocence, but a glint of mischief dances in her eyes. "Just getting used to my new tail, Daddy," she purrs playfully. "Aren't I such a good kitten?"
You shake your head. "Looks like you're trying to make me fuck you." You reach over, taking hold of the base of the tail plug and pulling it out slightly, before shoving it back in. Isa cries out, her body tensing up as you repeat the action, fucking her ass with the plug. "If you can't control yourself, then maybe I'll just have to punish you."
A chorus of moans escapes Isa's lips, her defiant fingers moving faster against her clit in a desperate plea for more. "Yes, Daddy, please," she begs, her voice a symphony of need and longing.
Your grin widens, a surge of dominance coursing through your veins as you grab her arm, pulling it away from her throbbing core. "No, kitten," you assert firmly, your voice commanding. "You're not allowed to touch yourself."
Isa whimpers in protest, her desire palpable, but she obediently complies with your command, her hands remaining bound behind her back. You release her arm, your eyes locked on the sight of her restrained beauty, her need radiating from every pore.
"Since you insist on misbehaving like that," you declare, your voice laced with a hint of playful authority, "I'll have to tie you properly." With purposeful determination, you retrieve the rope you had acquired for this very purpose, expertly maneuvering it around her delicate wrists, binding them securely together. Isa's whimper of surrender echoes through the room as the rope bites into her skin, marking her as yours.
With the task completed, you turn your attention back to the kitchen, resuming your culinary endeavors. The rhythmic sound of knife meeting cutting board fills the air as you deftly chop vegetables and toss them into a waiting bowl. Isa's eyes never leave you, her body wriggling with anticipation and desire, the tail plug nestled between her legs a constant reminder of her submissive state.
"Daddy, please," she pleads, her voice filled with a desperate longing. "I want your cock so bad. I need you to fuck me."
You shake your head, ignoring her, and continue working. You add the dressing to the salad, and you bring it over to her. She glances toward the cutlery in front of her, and you nod—if she wants to be a naughty animal, then she deserves to be treated like one. You also give her water in a bowl for added measure. You smile as you watch her try to pick up the salad with her mouth, struggling to use her lips and tongue to get the lettuce into her mouth. She eventually manages it, and she starts chewing, swallowing the vegetables. Isa also laps up from the bowl with a blush on her face.
You watch her eat, pleased, and you stroke your cock through your pants, teasing yourself. After she finishes the salad and as much of the water as she can, you get up from your seat, and you grab a hold of the rope binding her wrists together, pulling on it and leading her to the bedroom.
You help carefully pull the tail plug out of her ass, and you slip in a new butt plug, smaller and more discreet. "I think you can handle this one," you say, squeezing her ass and rubbing her back. She mewls, her legs quivering.
You grab a pair of panties and slip them onto her, helping her into them and pulling them up her thick thighs. She wiggles her hips, struggling to keep herself balanced as you adjust them for her, before you take out a skirt and help her step into it.
"We're going out today, kitten," you say. "You're going to wear your collar and cat ears in public, and no one will know that your slutty kitten asshole is going to be filled up. And if you’re good, then maybe you’ll get what you really want."
"Really?" she asks, her eyes widening with excitement.
You nod. "Yes, really."
"O-Okay." You quickly dress and head outside, the two of you enjoying the morning and the quiet streets. You don't have any concrete plans today, but there's a list of things in your mind that you would enjoy getting Isa to do: pet her in public, talk her into cumming just from sitting in your lap, even a spank here or there. While you don't bring the leash this time, you might try it some time in the future, and you want her to be comfortable. Right now, she just looks like a fashionable girl wearing animal ears.
As the two of you go on with your day, you try to spot signs of the fact she's aroused: the way she walks, the way she moves her arms, her eyes constantly wandering down and scanning the bulge in your pants. You catch her trying to squeeze her legs together or rub her thighs to get friction. At one point, when you sit in an isolated corner of a coffee shop, she rests her head in your lap and purrs contentedly. You gently rub her hair and scratch behind her ears, whispering for her to "think about Master's cock filling you up while your other hole's all plugged up" but also "not to cum without Master's permission." There's a soft moan against your crotch, then a warm sigh as her cheek rubs into your leg.
✦✧✦✧✦✧
After spending the whole day taking her around and making her go do mundane tasks with the plug, and most importantly having her beg and beg for you to fuck her—"in the park, on a bench, or the bushes in a hiking trail, anywhere please" she said—you're excited, eager for this evening. Isa looks back at you with tears brimming in her eyes, and her knees wobbling, as she's panting and trying to hold back from cumming. "Please," she begs. "I need it. Please, anything."
You think you have her just about at her limit when you both return to the car to drive back to Isa's place. Even the walk from the parking lot to Isa's apartment door has her clinging to you for support as she stumbles.
"Hey, kitten," you say, touching the small of her back under her shirt. "Are you okay?"
"It's fine. I'm just, so, so, worked up, fuck. I want your cock," she pouts, tears threatening to roll down her cheeks. She hunches forward, unable to look at you.
"I bet," you tease, kissing the top of her head. "I'll give you what you want soon, kitten. Just a little longer."
She whimpers. "Please."
"Okay, c'mon, baby," you say, letting go and opening the door for her. She staggers in on her jelly-like legs, her cheeks flushed and her breath hitching. You get behind her and hug her; holding her as tightly as you are, Isa relaxes into you. Her heart is pounding wildly against your palm. You set her down onto the couch, and she gives you a grateful smile, which you kiss in turn. Your hands roam all over her, down her waist and settling between her legs. You slip under her panties and tease the metal plug in her butt, twisting it until you hear a deep sigh from her. "You're so wet," you tell her. "Look at you. So sweet."
She makes a keening noise when you tug on the plug, just so, just enough to remind her of what you both want. Your finger teases along her folds, gently brushing up and down against the seam, up towards the hood of her clit. Isa shivers.
"Do you want me to make you cum?" you ask as you rub her clit.
"Mmhm," Isa nods furiously, her hands coming up to grasp at your shoulders, looking for purchase. "P-please. Make me cum."
At this point, a single digit thrust would probably be enough to push her over the edge. Instead, you remove your hands from her panties, place them on her breasts, squeeze them, and gently tug on her nipples. You love the way the skin of her neck and breasts blush with arousal. "You've been a good kitten," you say, cupping her ass and pulling her closer. "I'm so proud of you."
“Can, can I get a reward?” she asks, almost in tears.
You brush her tousled hair. “Shh, shh, of course. Do you want to cum on Daddy’s face?”
She nods emphatically while her pussy soaks her panties and leaks onto the couch. “Y-yes, Daddy, anything.”
In response, you pick her up and carry her to the bedroom, and she clings to you like a lifeline, as if afraid that if she lets you go, you won’t touch her and she might break into pieces from frustration. You lie down on the bed, and Isa climbs on top of you.
She quickly aligns her pussy with your face, and your mouth waters in anticipation at the sight of her darkened panties. You hook one finger around the thin and wet fabric and pull them down to reveal her swollen pussy, her asshole plugged tightly. “You smell so good,” you say, licking your lips as she mewls. “Sit.”
Isa does as told, and the warmth of her mound rests on your chin. She braces her hands on the headboard as you raise your head a bit to reach her core. You kiss her lower lips with reverence and delicacy, like you would kiss her lips. They're warm, warm and soaked with her honey, and they part easily to reveal the pink insides. Her clit is standing erect, almost painfully so, and the hood has pulled away.
You begin by flicking the tip of your tongue against it. She jumps. Then, you take the sensitive pearl into your mouth. Isa groans at this, but you don't stay for too long. You place wet, loud kisses against her mound and inner thighs, before going back to her clit. This time, you suck on it. A little nip sends her jumping on you again, and she yelps. The next kiss is quick and soft.
As she grows accustomed to the new stimulation, you suck and lick and nibble her clit, all while keeping an eye on her face. You see it scrunch up, her nose crinkling in pleasure, her eyes shut. Her moans are accompanied by whines, little pathetic sounds that let you know she's getting close to her breaking point.
There is nothing quite like eating out Isa while she has a toy in her ass and she's wearing cat ears and a cute collar, but more delicious than any picture is the taste of her cream, musky and tangy and addictive. It drips from the swollen labia that your tongue slides through, coating your tongue and making you dizzy with lust. It's strong and you can't help but groan as you dig your face deeper against her sex, lips meeting lips as your tongue.
Isa grinds down on your mouth, and her hips tremble when you begin to circle your tongue around her clit, giving the firm bundle of nerves light but frequent attention. She's a mess on you, and you're happy to be cleanup duty, your chin and shirt a mop. As she rocks back and forth, you reach up at her nipples through her shirt and twist and pinch and roll the stiff buds.
With that, Isa's hips rock one last time as her thighs close and press against the sides of your head. You hear the distant, muffled, muted sounds of her whining, crying, moaning. By now, you can even feel how hard her heart is beating. Her breaths become erratic, and the trembling of her hips turns into shaking. She leans backwards, balancing her weight on your midsection, and the tension in her body snaps.
For a moment, she's floating, mind empty, then everything rushes into her brain like a dam has broken. For the first time that day, she cums, and she cums hard. She's always thought of it as "seeing stars" but now it feels more like being tossed into space and feeling all the gravity around her all at once. All the weight on her body disappears, but the pressure of you increases. She doesn't hear, she doesn't feel. Isa is the color white.
All of a sudden, Isa feels weak. It feels like the universe is a heavy blanket on her. She can barely hold her weight on her body. You're the only thing that feels real at the moment. That, and her pussy, which still tingles with her orgasm, and you can only imagine how the plug in her ass is magnifying everything.
Isa collapses against you, the softness of her flesh warming your chest. She's still convulsing with little aftershocks, her entire body covered in goosebumps. She hears herself saying things like "I love you so much" and "thank you Daddy thank you". The words leave her mouth on their own as she begins to come down from her high.
For as much as you love being her seat, you pull her down into a spoon. You wrap your arms around her. Her heart pounds against your forearm and hand. The scent of her shampoo and sweat fill your nostrils. Everything is still hot from her body heat, and you take a deep breath and exhale through your mouth. "Was that worth the wait, kitten?" you ask her.
"Yeah," she says weakly, the only word she can manage at the moment. Her legs are still shaking, and she takes a few moments to focus on slowing down her breathing and her heartbeat. "Well..."
"Well? You need more, huh?" you chuckle. You should've learned to never be surprised at Isa's appetite by now, and the plug in her ass isn't making her any less horny.
"Mmm, mhm. I need your cock so badly. Fuck my ass. I need Daddy to claim me."
You kiss her cheek and tell her to flip over so that she's laying on her stomach, her round ass staring up at you. "You did such a good job," you whisper as you rub your palms across her lower back before lifting her skirt to get a good view.
The plug sits in Isa's asshole, glistening with her fluids. A bottle of lube waits on the nightstand, and you pour it generously over her crack. With as much care as you can muster, you begin to slowly draw it out, savoring the sight of her clenched hole stretching to accommodate the thickest part of the toy. There is an audible pop when the tapered plug slips free, causing Isa to hiss in pleasure as her rectum reflexively tightens to fill the emptiness left inside.
Her delicate fingers reach behind to part her plump cheeks and expose herself further to your gaze. You bite your lip, taken by the lewdness of the image in front of you. You add more lube to the area, another spurt on your index, and circle around the ring of her anus to coat it before pushing a finger in, massaging her inner walls. "How does that feel, baby?" you ask, watching the way her head jerks back and she squirms beneath you.
"Amazing," she mutters, her voice sounding far away. Prone on the bed, Isa is powerless to resist as you slowly remove your finger, adding a second digit. Her ass grips you so snugly, sucking you deeper with each pump, like it's a sleeve for your fingers. She trembles at the feeling of fullness inside, at the raw vulnerability of being splayed before you like this, your gaze unabashedly on her naked ass as you work her open. "C-can you bring me a pillow, please?"
You kiss the nape of her neck as you reach down and slide the pillow under her pelvis. Her ass raised, her back arched, Isa is the picture of supplication. "So beautiful," you whisper against her skin, and she shudders with arousal.
"Da... daddy, do you need to stretch me more?" Isa stammers. You place your palm at the small of her back, caressing the dip of her spine with gentle circles.
"No, kitten," you soothe. "You're ready."
"Yes. God, yes."
With one hand squeezing the supple curve of her butt, you pour lube liberally across the tip of your erection. You position the head of your cock at the rim of her ass and begin to apply pressure, using your thumbs to massage her soft cheeks. Even your tip struggles to breach her, her entrance reluctant to admit anything more girthy than a couple of fingers. With more lube, and two hands spreading her ass open, you finally push through her anal muscles' resistance, gasping as the tightness and warmth of her insides engulfs the head of your shaft.
Isa tenses in response, her hands clawing at the bed sheets. The sound she lets out is almost like a pained meow as your cock plunges further into her depths. "Relax," you murmur, using a tender yet reassuring voice to soothe her.
She responds by shifting her hips, attempting to adjust the angle to your thrust, her movements awkward and fumbling due to her precarious position. Her efforts cause her to clench down on your shaft, a wave of pleasure washing over you, before relaxing once again.
A shaky breath escapes your throat as you feel yourself slipping past the ring of her sphincter. "Good, good girl," you praise once you've sunk halfway into her, taking a moment to drink in the erotic view in front of you. "Fuck, you're tight. Almost there."
Her body shudders as she fights to hold still, to restrain her hips from moving on their own accord, a low cry emanating from her lips.
Your hand roams over her waist and upper thigh, seeking out the delicate bud hidden in the cleft of her pussy. You rub a couple of fingers over the tender flesh, delighting in the way her back arches as you stimulate the swollen organ. Savoring her broken sobs, you ease forward, burying the rest of your length in her ass. You gently slap her butt, marveling at the way it bounces with each contact.
Isa moans as you pull your dick out slightly before plunging it back into her ass, beginning with slow, shallow pumps. The motion is easy and fluid, despite her virgin-tightness.
You press your palms flat against the mattress and use your forearms for leverage to piston into her. As you drive your shaft deeper into her ass, the combination of her intoxicating aroma and your lust for her spurs you to move faster and harder, until you find yourself rutting her, your balls slapping against her puffy cunt with each frantic thrust.
"Yes! More," she begs, and you groan in reply. Your eyes are fixed on your cock, sliding in and out of her stretched hole, the ridges of your shaft disappearing and reappearing as you pump. Your mouth goes dry as you watch the way her body clings to your cock, how she's utterly and completely full of you.
"Fuck, look at you, so greedy," you growl as she pushes back against your cock. You pause for a brief moment and she whines in protest, then you unsheathe your dick and slap it against her gaping asshole. She jolts at the impact, her body shivering at the feeling. Your hips pull back, and with a powerful snap, you ram your cock into her asshole. She cries out in pain and pleasure, the sound echoing throughout the room.
"D-daddy, don't tease me!" she exclaims, her voice pleading, yet laced with desperation. You smirk at the familiarity of her tone.
You bend down, wrapping your arm around her torso and pulling her up and flush against your chest, the weight of her breasts pressing against your bicep and forearm. In this position, both of you are sitting up, her in your lap like you're her throne—her master, her god, her owner. She leans into you, tilting her head back to look up into your eyes, the adoration and reverence shining within her gaze unmistakable. Your shaft presses against her lower back, and she wiggles her ass desperately to urge you to keep fucking her.
You kiss her neck, inhaling her scent, her arousal. With such an incredible woman in your arms, you are overcome by the desire to mark her, to stake your claim on her, to brand her as your possession. In one swift movement, you sink your teeth into her neck, biting into the delicate skin. Isa whines, her head thrown back, eyes half-lidded and glazed over "Mine," you utter in a low, possessive voice.
"Yours," she answers breathlessly, her lips curled in a delirious smile.
You wrap two large hands around her waist, angling your hips just so as you lift her up, and then, she's sliding down your cock, enveloping you in her warmth as you fill her to the brim. As she takes you into her, she stretches open and lets out an obscene moan, her hands gripping the sheets tightly.
"D-daddy!" Isa whimpers, her body trembling at the intensity of the sensations flooding her. "You're so big."
Sitting on you like this, your cock feels impossibly thick inside of her. She can't help the way her thighs twitch involuntarily, nor can she ignore the way her pussy clenches at nothing. With both of her hands, she grabs onto your arm and guides your hand down between her legs, right over her pussy.
"Touch me," she breathes.
You grin at her request, and you oblige, bringing your fingers to her clit. At that moment, you roll your hips upward, meeting her downward motions with a rough, deep thrust, the force of which knocks the breath out of her lungs. Any amount of control she has above you evaporates at this point, leaving her helpless as you bounce her in your lap while your digits play at her raw and pink nub, or probe her slick, wet entrance.
The room is filled with the lewd sounds of her whimpers, of the wet slaps of her ass against your hips, of her needy begging, and of your guttural grunts of effort. Despite the intense climax that shook her only minutes ago, Isa finds herself teetering on the edge of another, and she yearns for release. She's not the only one: her walls cling tightly to your shaft, refusing to yield its grip, and your length pulses with the desperate desire to burst.
"God, I want to feel you cum in my ass, Daddy," she sighs, her head rolling back to lean on your shoulder. Her eyes are closed in concentration, and her mouth hangs open as she gasps and pants and cries with each penetration. You grunt, your gaze hungrily drinking in the sight of her: her reddened, sweaty face, the droplets of perspiration that cling to her collarbone, the rapid rise and fall of her heaving chest, the swaying of her heavy, unrestrained tits.
You suckle at the skin behind her ear, grazing her lobe with your teeth. "Then cum, kitten."
In an instant, a tremor shoots up her spine. With a scream of pure pleasure, her body becomes rigid and then goes limp, her senses overloading as her cunt clamps around your fingers—which doesn't compare at all to her ass clenching and tightening around your cock.
"Fuck, I'm gonna cum too—"
But Isa's mind is hazy with ecstasy, her body taut with her own release, that she barely registers the hot and sticky substance suddenly gushing into her anal entrance. Yours on the other hand is sharp and clear as day, and you allow yourself to drown in the euphoria that comes with each spurt. She's a perfect fit for you, made to be yours, and you've marked her as such. Every time she clenches in her pleasure, your cock responds with its own throb, its own gush, its own pulse.
When you collapse, she collapses with you, her thighs sticky and wet as she pants on the bed, lying beside you. You grab a bunch of tissue paper, clean the leaky, creamy mess you've made of her ass.
Her eyes flutter shut and you whisper words of affection and praise. You cradle her in your arms, stroking her hair and tracing patterns across the flushed skin of her back and belly, enjoying the warmth of her body. Her head rests on your shoulder, your neck. Your legs are entwined, and the softness of her chest molds to the planes of your own. Her breathing eventually steadies, and her pulse calms.
Isa lifts her head up, placing her hands on your chest to prop herself up. With lidded eyes and a mischievous smile, she whispers, "I hope you know what you started, Daddy."
A wicked grin creeps upon your lips at her implication, and your hands find their way to her waist, squeezing her hipbones. "And what's that?"
Her gaze softens, and she gazes lovingly into your eyes, a shy smile on her lips. "I hope you don't plan on going anywhere. I don't think I can ever let you go, especially now," she says softly, a blush rising to her cheeks.
"I wouldn't dream of it." You lean forward, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. "You're mine. So I'm yours, kitten."
"Good."
Isa smiles, and you'll never fail to fall in love with the sight of her radiance; that smile makes you believe you may never fail again.
✦✧✦✧✦✧
Not really in the Christmas/holiday spirit but I figured might as well pull it out of the draft archives before the year end.
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Part 11
“So… am I in purgatory?” asked the soul when I'd brought over a couple of chocolate chip cookies.
“I guess you could call it that. I call it the realm between Life and Death, or the in-between. Essentially the concept is the same.”
A small sigh escaped the soul. “Now I'm afraid I may not go where I was hoping,” they said.
“Don't be discouraged. This isn't what I was expecting either.” Memories and fears tried to surface in my mind, but I pushed them down. “Do you remember your name?”
“It was… Sam.”
“I'm glad to meet you, Sam. I'm sorry that one of the other patrons made your welcome less pleasant than it should have been.”
“That's alright,” Sam answered. “I can't say I blame them, in light of the current… ah, circumstances.”
I raised an eyebrow and studied this easy-going soul for a moment. “You seem to be taking this rather calmly,” I said. “What you're feeling is none of my business, but if there's anything you'd like to talk about, I'm all ears.”
A small smile appeared on Sam’s face. “I appreciate that, but honestly, even though this isn't what I was expecting to see, I have faith I'll end up where I'm supposed to be.”
I nodded. “Until then, let me know if you'd like a refill or something to eat.”
“Thank you. You're a kind soul.”
“So are you, Sam.”
Leaving Sam at the counter with his coffee, I eyed the section of the cafe where Wade had taken the other newly-arrived soul. Taking a small breath, I headed over and nodded.
“Hello again. I'd like to properly introduce myself. My name is Rose, and this is my cafe. You're welcome to stay here as long as you'd like, provided you remain respectful of others. You're welcome to ask me anything, but I may not have all the answers.”
The soul glanced at Wade, who was seated across from them and looking like he wasn't about to move any time soon.
“Would you mind bringing me a cup of coffee? As strong as you can make it?” came the carefully polite reply.
“Sure thing. Would you like anything to eat?”
“I doubt you'd have it, but a poppyseed muffin would be nice.”
“I've got some from a batch I made earlier—I’ll be right back. Coffee black, right?”
A startled nod.
“Isn't she great?” Wade beamed as he settled back and put his arms behind his head.
Smiling and shaking my head as I went back to the counter, one of the other patrons drew my attention for a refill, and by the time I finally returned to Sam, his cup was empty.
“Sorry about that,” I said as I poured some fresh brew into his cup. “I try not to let my patrons’ cups get completely empty.”
“No apologies necessary,” Sam said. “This coffee is probably the best I've ever had.”
I thanked him with a smile. “And you're one of the politest souls I've ever waited on,” I replied.
As I went back out into the cafe to bring everyone their refills and plates, I couldn't help but hope within my heart that Sam found the peace he was looking for, and I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was sorely missed by the family he'd left behind.
You run a café on the edge of life and death. Souls who have been departed from their bodies temporarily, such as in comas or near-death experiences, can relax in your quaint cafe for as long as they need before they can either return to their bodies or begin their journey to the afterlife.
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Day 5: Comfort
Newjeans Hanni x male reader smut
words: 9,650 12 Days of Praelmas Masterlist
Spotting a face in a crowd is like watching lightning. There's a moment that captivates you and then it disappears. You're not even sure where to look for it. It happens in an instant, but when that instant is over, you're not sure if it ever really happened at all.
That is life with Hanni.
She might well be sitting here now, on your couch, with her knees pressed against her chest and a mug of hot cocoa in her hands, but in another moment she will be gone and you will be alone again. The warmth of her body will linger on the cushions beside you. You will press your hand into it, but it will fade. And then there will only be her image in your mind and the memory of her voice.
She is always so busy, and you are always waiting.
"I need a break," she says, and this time, her voice is not in the past, but in the present.
You blink, pulled from your thoughts, and look up at her. She's watching you, her dark eyes soft. She's smiling. You don't know how long you've been staring into space. "Sorry," you say, "what?"
Hanni laughs softly, reaching out and taking your hand. Her skin is soft, unblemished, and her nails manicured. Her fingers are slim and dainty, but there's a surprising strength in them. "I said I need a break," she says, and then she squeezes your hand. "So let's go somewhere."
You don't have to think about it. "Where do you want to go?"
"I don't know," Hanni says, and her smile grows wider. "Anywhere."
Anywhere.
-
The thing about the coast, the beach, the sea, is that it really goes well with sunshine and especially poorly with the winter. There is something about the ocean and the beach in the winter that is a bit depressing, and yet at the same time, that makes it feel more comfortable, more like you can imagine it as your own. You can walk on the beach without the crowds of summer. The waves are high, the water is cold, the sand is wet and hard, and the wind is sharp and biting, but there's a sense of adventure to it.
"It just doesn't seem to end," Hanni is explaining as you walk side-by-side, wrapped in padded coats and gloves, with thick hats and boots, "It just never seems to stop. It just keeps going. It's the same thing every single day. I wake up. I go to work. I do what I'm supposed to do. I go home. I sleep. I do it again the next day."
You nod, though you can't even pretend to understand it.
"Do you want to know what the worst part is?" she asks.
You nod again. "Of course," you say.
"The worst part is that I'm not even unhappy," Hanni says, looking at you with a smile that bears mixed emotions, "I love it. I just want something more."
"I think that's normal," you say. "It's like how when you finish a book, or a movie, or a TV series, you're sad that it's over, but you're happy that you finished it, and then you start thinking about what to watch next, or what to read next. It's like that."
You wonder if that makes sense.
Hanni nods slowly, and thoughtfully, as though she's taking the time to consider your words. "Yeah," she agrees, and then she laughs, "but sometimes I don't know if I want to finish the book. Sometimes I just want to skip to the end, so I can see what happens, you know?"
You don't. Maybe it's because life is much simpler outside of the spotlight. You don't have to wonder what happens next. What happens next is the same as what always happens. Work. Salary. Bills. Responsibility. It's the same thing, over and over again.
Actually, the only days you get to break the mould, are the days that Hanni is there with you. That is what happens next.
You don't tell her that. You don't think she would be all that impressed with your answer, given what she had said. So you don't say anything at all.
-
Vacationing in temperatures nearing freezing is hard, and the later it gets, the harder it becomes. Yet, the sky is so clear that the stars shine like a million little diamonds, and the moon hangs low and fat in the sky, casting a pale silver light over everything. In that, there's unmatched beauty. On this rooftop cafe, you can almost see the universe in full.
It took a little convincing for the owner downstairs to even open the roof. He called you a few variations of insane for not wanting to cosy up inside the warmth of the cafe. But you, and Hanni, are nothing if not determined. So here you are, on the roof, on the balcony, looking at the sky, at the stars, and the moon. It's a beautiful night, and there's no better place to be on earth.
"I like this," Hanni says, leaning into your side. "You're always good at coming up with ideas."
"I don't know if this is really an idea," you say with a laugh. "It's just sitting on a roof."
"Yeah, but that's the best part. It's just sitting on a roof." Hanni looks at you, her dark eyes glittering in the moonlight. "It's not fancy. It's not expensive. It's just us, on a roof."
"Okay, that's a fair point," you say, and then you laugh again.
You look out over the city, at the twinkling lights, at the stars, at the moon. You take a deep breath of cool air and let it fill your lungs.
"Hey," Hanni says, "I have a question."
You glance back at her. "Shoot."
"Why are we friends?" she asks.
"Wow, deep question," you joke, trying to lighten the mood, but Hanni doesn't laugh. "Um," you say, "Well, I mean, we grew up together, didn't we?"
"Yeah, but we're not kids anymore," she says. "We're adults now. We have lives. Jobs. Responsibilities. I'm an idol and I disappear for months on end. And when I come back, I always just drop in on you and expect you to be there for me, and you are. Every time. Why is that?"
"I don't know," you admit. "I guess I just... I just like you. I always have."
"You don't get sick of me?"
You shrug. "Sometimes, when you do that thing where you hum real loud, I want to strangle you."
It brings about a shared laugh. That right there; if you capture that moment and bottle it, you would present it to her as the reason. Because no matter how long she's gone, and no matter what happens, when she's here and you are laughing together, it feels like home. You don't need to be anywhere or do anything in particular. It's enough just to be.
Hanni shuffles closer, leaning further into your side. "You're my best friend, you know that?"
You nod, your heart swelling. "Yeah," you say, your voice quiet, "I know."
-
You've always been a sucker for romance, but you also recognise that the real world doesn't work that way. Romance is the domain of fiction, of books, of movies, of the stage, of the screen. In the real world, things are messy and complicated and sometimes they don't work out. And that's okay. It's not a tragedy. It's not the end of the world. It's just the way things are.
It's why you can spend time with a girl who's beautiful and talented and smart and funny, without getting caught up in the fantasy that she's going to fall in love with you and sweep you off your feet and carry you into the sunset, or whatever. You've seen enough romantic comedies to know how those stories go, and you know how they end. In the real world, the best you can hope for is friendship, and even that is something to be grateful for. Especially when it's Hanni.
"Which book is that?" Hanni asks as she steps out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel and followed by a plume of steam. Her hair hangs wet and heavy around her shoulders, dripping onto the floor. The hotel room is nice, but it's nothing too fancy. You're sure Hanni is used to better.
You look at her for a moment, then close the book in your lap. It's in these pages, that those romance stories play out, or so you tell yourself. "It's nothing," you say. "Just some trashy novel."
She sits on the edge of the bed, her eyes on you. "Is it any good?" she asks. You're not sure if she's interested or just making conversation, but you answer anyway.
"I mean, it's not great literature or anything," you say, "but it's entertaining enough."
"I wouldn't have taken you for the type of person to read romance. I remember you being obsessed with... um... Who was that one author? Michael Connely? It was all detectives and crime."
"Guilty pleasure, I guess."
"What's it about?" Hanni asks. "The book."
You glance down at the cover, which shows a young woman in a flowing dress standing on a cliff, overlooking the sea. The title is in a fancy script, and the author's name is printed beneath it. You shrug. "It's about a girl who's an artist, and she meets this guy, and they have this whirlwind romance."
"And then they get married and have kids and live happily ever after?"
You laugh softly. "No, not quite," you say. "They have a lot of sex, but then they fight all the time and it's messy and dramatic."
"Then what?"
"I don't know, I haven't finished it yet."
"I bet they get back together," she says. "That's always how these things end, right? They have a big fight and then they get back together and it's all sunshine and rainbows."
"I don't know," you say. "Maybe. Probably. It's fiction."
Hanni laughs, shaking her head. "You're so cynical."
"I'm not cynical," you protest. "I'm just realistic."
"Right, right, of course." She stands, moving to the bag of clothes at the foot of the bed, and begins to rummage through it. She pulls out a pair of shorts and a top. "I'm going to get dressed," she says, and then she disappears into the bathroom again, closing the door behind her.
When she emerges, she's wearing a pair of tight black shorts that hug her hips and a white tank top that clings to her curves. Her hair is still damp, and it falls around her shoulders in dark waves. She looks good, and you can't help but admire her. She's beautiful.
You can tell she's aware of the attention, but she ignores it, instead flopping onto the bed beside you and letting out a sigh. "What are we going to do tomorrow?" she asks.
"I was thinking we could just drive up the coast," you suggest. "Maybe stop off in some of the little towns along the way, and see if there's anything interesting."
"Sounds good," she says, and then she rolls onto her side, her head propped up on her hand, looking at you. "You know, you're the first person I thought of when I said I needed a break."
"Really?"
"Yeah. I don't know why, but I just knew that if I could get away with anyone, it would be you."
"Thanks," you say. You're not sure how to respond to that, but it makes you feel warm inside. "I'm glad I could help."
-
The small towns are wholly uninteresting, but Hanni seems to find something to enjoy in every one of them. There is something about seeing the world through her eyes that makes even the most mundane things seem magical. A little store selling handmade trinkets and cheap souvenirs becomes a treasure trove of hidden gems. An old man playing guitar in the park becomes a musician worth listening to. An old, crumbling building becomes a palace of mystery and intrigue. The world comes alive when Hanni is around, and you can't help but be swept up in it.
You're on the last leg now, and you agreed to drive her home. It's late in the afternoon, the sun is low in the sky, and the horizon is a watercolour painting of pinks, oranges, and purples. It's a beautiful sight, and it makes you think of the painting that Hanni bought earlier. You're not sure what she saw in it, but she seemed to love it, and that's all that matters. She's asleep beside you, her head resting against the window, her breathing slow and steady. She's exhausted, and you don't blame her. She's been going non-stop for the past few days, and you're glad that she finally has a chance to rest.
You pull up outside her place and gently shake her awake. She stirs and blinks up at you, her eyes still heavy with sleep, and she smiles. "Hey," she murmurs, and her voice is soft and husky.
"Hey," you say. "We're here. You're home."
Hanni sits up, rubbing her eyes and stretching. "Already?" she asks. "I didn't mean to sleep the whole way."
"It's okay," you assure her. "Part of taking a break is getting some rest."
She nods, but she doesn't look happy. "I know, but I feel like I missed out on something." She looks at you. "Thank you for driving me home. I'm sorry for being such a pain in the ass."
"It's okay," you assure her. "You're always a pain in the ass. I'm used to it by now."
She laughs, but there's a tinge of sadness to it. "Yeah," she says, and then she glances away. Her voice is soft and hesitant. "Are you going to come inside?"
"I can help you with your bag."
"I was thinking more than just that." Her eyes meet yours. "Stay for a bit. I don't want to say goodbye just yet."
"I don't want to intrude," you tell her, knowing that there are four other girls in her place and it's their place as much as it is Hanni's. "Besides, it's getting late."
She reaches over and takes your hand, holding it tightly. "Please."
"Okay," you say, and you can't help but smile at her. "I'll stay for a bit."
It's the first time you've seen the inside of this place, but it's a lot nicer than your little apartment. It's spacious and modern, with a large kitchen and a living room that opens onto a balcony with a view of the city. It's the sort of place you would never be able to afford, but Hanni seems to fit in here perfectly.
There's a girl sprawled out on the couch, eyes closed, earbuds in her ears. You recognize her, from posters and interviews and magazine covers, and music videos. Her name is Minji, and she's got long, dark hair that falls in waves down her back. She's tall and pretty, with a slim build and a face that's both elegant and expressive. She looks like a model, but she's also an idol, a singer, and a dancer. It's a little intimidating.
"Better not wake her," Hanni says. "She gets cranky when she's tired."
You nod. "Right."
"Come on, let's go to my room. We can talk there."
You follow her down a hallway and into a bedroom that's big and bright, with a view of the city. It's tastefully decorated, with a bed that's bigger than yours, a dresser that's bigger than yours, and a desk that's bigger than yours. Everything is bigger here, and you can't help but feel a little out of place.
"I like it in here," you say. "It's nice."
"Thanks," she says, dropping a bag in the corner and you follow her by placing the two you were carrying.
There's a faint sound coming through the wall. Music that you can't quite make out, but it sounds upbeat and peppy. You can hear the bass thumping, and the occasional high-pitched voice singing along.
"That's Dani," Hanni says, sitting on the edge of the bed. "She's always playing music. It drives Minji nuts."
You laugh, leaning against the dresser. "It's kind of cute."
"Yeah, it is. She's a sweetheart." Hanni leans back on her hands, looking at you. "I can't believe this is the first time you've seen where I live."
"It's a nice place," you say. "I'm sure you're comfortable here."
"It's not bad." She shrugs. "It's not really mine, though. I mean, it is, but it's also not. You know what I mean?"
You don't, but you nod anyway.
Hanni sighs, running a hand through her hair. "You should visit more," Hanni says while taking off her jacket, reducing her clothing back down to just that tight white tank top now that she's back in the warmth of her room.
You can't help but look at her, admiring the way her body moves, the way her skin glows in the light. You can't help but want to touch her, to feel her warmth. "I don't know," you say. "I would be kind of out of place."
"You wouldn't be," she says, and her voice is firm. "I miss you."
"I miss you too," you say, and it's true. You miss her all the time, even when she's right here in front of you. You miss her smile, her laugh, her scent.
She looks up at you, her eyes wide and searching. "Do you think about me when I'm gone?" she asks.
"Of course," you say, and you can't help but smile. "All the time."
She smiles, and it's like the sun coming out from behind the clouds. "Good." She stands, walking over to you, and you can smell her shampoo, her perfume, her skin. She reaches out, touching your face, running her fingers over your cheek. "I'm glad," she whispers, and then she leans in and presses her lips to yours.
It's a gentle kiss, soft and sweet, and it lingers for a moment before she pulls away. You're frozen in this moment, unable to think, unable to speak, unable to breathe. You're not sure what just happened, or why it happened, or what it means, or what you should do next.
"I'm sorry," she says, stepping back. "I shouldn't have done that."
"It's okay," you say, and it is. It truly is. You don't know why, but it is. You want to kiss her again, to hold her close, to feel her warmth.
"I just... I don't know," she says. "I've been thinking about it for a while, and I just... I don't know."
"It's okay," you say again, and you reach out and take her hand, holding it tight. You look into her eyes. "I'm glad you did."
She looks up at you, and her eyes are wide and searching. "Really?"
"Really." You squeeze her hand. "I'm glad."
"Good," she whispers, and then she leans in again and kisses you. This time, you kiss her back. You wrap your arms around her, pulling her close, holding her tight. You can feel her heart beating against your chest, and it's a steady, reassuring rhythm. She tastes of strawberry lip gloss and you can't get enough of it.
You've known Hanni for years, and you've been friends for years, and you've been best friends for years. But it's never been like this. It's never been this close, this intimate, this real. You've never been able to touch her like this, to kiss her like this, to hold her like this. And it feels amazing.
You're not sure how long you stand there, kissing, holding each other, but eventually you break apart and look at each other, smiling.
"What are we doing?" she asks, her voice low and husky.
"I don't know," you admit. "But I like it."
"Me too." She smiles, and it's the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. "Can I tell you something? It's been on my mind for two days now."
You nod, and she takes a deep breath before continuing.
"I've been thinking about you a lot lately," she says. "A lot. I mean, I've always thought about you, but now it's different. Now it's like I can't stop thinking about you. Well, I can, but not for long."
She's stumbling over her words, and you can't help but find it cute. You reach up and brush a strand of hair out of her face, and she smiles at you.
"I don't know what it means," she says. "I'm not sure if I want it to mean anything. I'm not sure if I'm ready for it to mean anything. I'm not sure if I'm even ready to think about what it might mean." She laughs, and it's a nervous laugh, and you can tell she's struggling to find the right words. "I guess I'm just saying that I'm not sure what I want, but I know that I want to be with you. And I'm not sure if that makes any sense, but it's how I feel."
"It makes perfect sense," you say, and you mean it. You know exactly what she means. You've felt the same way.
"I'm scared," she says. "This feeling is new. It's exciting. But it's scary, too. I'm not sure what to do. I don't want to ruin our friendship. But at the same time, I want more. I want to be with you. And I don't know how to do that."
"It's okay," you tell her. "We'll figure it out together."
She smiles, and it's a shy smile, but it's genuine. "So you're not going to run away?" she asks.
"No," you say. "No, I'm not."
"Good," she says. "Because I don't think I could handle that."
You laugh, and she laughs with you, and it's the most natural thing in the world. You can feel the tension between you start to ease, and you relax into each other, holding each other close. You kiss her again, and this time it's a little less hesitant, a little less unsure. You kiss her, and you let yourself fall into her, and you let yourself forget about everything else, and you let yourself just enjoy the moment. You kiss her, and you feel her arms wrap around you, and you feel her body press against yours, and you feel her warmth, and her softness, and her strength. You kiss her, and you feel your heart race, and you feel your blood rush, and you feel your skin flush, and you feel your head spin.
And when you finally break away, breathless and dizzy, she's looking at you with a mixture of wonder and desire and something else that you can't quite put your finger on. But it's a good look. It's a look that makes you feel happy, and excited, and scared, and alive.
"So what now?" you ask.
"I don't know," she says. "I've never done this before."
"Neither have I," you admit.
"Well, uh..." she trails off, looking away. "I guess we can just keep doing what we're doing, but like, over there." She points to her bed, and you can't help but chuckle.
"I like that idea," you say, before pulling off your jacket.
"Woah, what are you—?"
"It's just my jacket, I'm not..."
You both laugh and Hanni does that thing where she covers her face with her palms and shakes her head.
"Okay, I'm an idiot," she says, before throwing herself backwards onto her bed.
You approach her, but you're still nervous. You place a knee on the bed, move closer to her, and lean over her. She looks up at you, and her eyes are wide and bright, and full of emotion. You lean down and kiss her, and this time, there's no hesitation, no fear, no doubt. This time, it's a kiss of passion.
You sink into her as the kiss deepens, and you feel her hands on your back, pulling you closer, pressing you against her. You feel her tongue slide against yours, and then you taste her mouth, and it's a taste that you want more of. You taste her, and you smell her, and you feel her.
All you can do is what comes naturally, so next you're moving your hand from the bed and onto her hip, and slowly moving it along her waist, sliding it under her top. Her body tenses slightly as the palm of your hand touches her soft, warm skin.
"Are you okay?" you ask between kisses.
"Yes," she says, and the look in her eyes tells you the same. "Don't stop."
So you don't. You keep kissing her, touching her and exploring her. Your hand moves up her side, feeling the curve of her waist, and the rise of her ribcage. You brush the edge of her bra and hesitate, but then her hand reaches for yours and guides it under the fabric. You feel her breast against your palm, soft and warm and firm, and you feel her nipple, hard and erect, and you feel her tremble beneath you.
"You're beautiful," you whisper to her.
She blushes and smiles before you slip your tongue against hers again.
You never allowed yourself to appreciate Hanni for her beauty. It's not like you were blind to it. It's just that you didn't let yourself see it. Maybe deep down you knew that if you did, you wouldn't be able to look at her as just a friend anymore. So you suppressed that part of yourself. But now, with her lying here beneath you, you can't help but appreciate not only how pretty she is, but just how hot her body is, especially as your hands explore her. She's toned, but soft, and you can't get enough of her.
Her own hands are busy, too. They're running up and down your back, and then they're slipping under your shirt, and you can feel her nails scratching lightly against your skin.
"Can we take off our tops?" she asks suddenly, breaking the kiss. The question is kind of awkward, you both feel this, there's this shared twinge of embarrassment that you can sense in each other. It's not romantic, it's not sexy, it's just a bit silly.
"Sure," you say, and you sit up and pull your shirt over your head. You look down at her and suddenly feel so exposed, even if she is the one in tight shorts and her legs on either side of your hips, you're the one that's topless.
Hanni sits up too, and pulls her top off, revealing her light blue bra. She's moving a little erratic as she reaches behind her back, so much so that she fumbles the clasp twice before unfastening it. She lets the straps slide down her arms and throws it aside, quickly crossing her arms over her chest. Her face is a deep red.
She's embarrassed. You've never seen her like this before. You've seen her nervous, shy, even scared, but never embarrassed. And it's adorable. You're sitting just a few inches from each other, yet she's still looking down and to the side.
"Hey," you whisper, and then she looks at you. "You're beautiful."
She smiles and uncrosses her arms, and your eyes move down from her face to her breasts. You've seen her in a bra, but not like this. Never this close, never bare, never with the intention of touching them.
So, you do. You place your hand on one of her tits, and then she's leaning into you and you're kissing again. She fits so perfectly into your hand, and you can't resist gently massaging it. Instinct takes over. You're not thinking anymore, you're just doing what feels right. So you break the kiss and move your head down to her other breast. You start kissing around her nipple, and then you take it in your mouth, and you hear her moan. It's a sound that sends shivers down your spine, and then she's tangling her fingers in your hair, pressing your face into her chest.
You spend some time like this, alternating between her two breasts, licking, sucking, and nibbling on her nipples. It's a little clumsy, and you don't really know what you're doing, so you just follow what her soft little moans tell you. You love the feel of her tits against your face, the taste of her skin, the sound of her breathing.
And then she's pulling you back up and kissing you, and you're lost in the sensation of her lips on yours, her tongue on yours, her body against yours. You can feel her heart beating, and it's beating fast.
"You're so hot," you whisper, and she smiles and blushes.
"So are you," she says, and then she's pushing you down onto the bed, rolling on top of you. She kisses you again, and then she's kissing your neck, your collarbone, your chest. She's kissing her way down your body, and you're not sure what to do, so you just lie there and let her explore. You become more aware of your own body, and the sensation of her wet kisses against your skin. You become more aware of the discomfort between your legs. It's only now, in this moment of respite from kissing her lips and her tits, that you realise she must have felt it. The whole time. Since you started kissing her, and you laid yourself against her. She must have felt the bulge in your pants pressing against her crotch. You're mortified. You can't even look at her, you just stare up at the ceiling with an embarrassed smile on your face.
"Hey," she whispers, and you look down at her. She's kneeling between your legs, looking up at you. Her eyes are wide and bright, and she has a big goofy grin on her face. She looks so cute. "Did I do this?"
She's not looking at you. You follow her gaze down to the bulge in your pants.
"Uhhh..." you're not sure what to say. "Yes. Probably. I think so. I'm sorry."
She giggles, a mischievous grin forming on her lips. "It's okay," she says. "It's nice. I, uh, I like it."
You laugh nervously, and she laughs with you, and then she's unbuttoning your pants, and you're not sure what's happening. You feel like you should say something, but you can't think of anything, so you just lie there and let her do it. You lift your hips so she can pull down your jeans and underwear in one motion. Although you can't bring yourself to look down, the feeling of being exposed is overwhelming. You stare at the white paint on the ceiling as if it's the most interesting thing in the world.
"I've never done this before," she says. "I mean, I've seen one before. On TV, or in a movie, or something. But I've never... I don't really know what to do."
"It's okay," you say, your voice shaky, and you almost don't recognise it. "You don't have to—" Your breath hitches in your throat as you feel her fingers touch you.
"I want to," she whispers, and then she's gripping your shaft in her hand, and you can feel her fingers wrapping around it.
You're hard, and she's touching you, and it feels incredible. It feels incredible and wrong and exciting and scary and confusing and perfect and you can't think straight.
"Is this okay?" she asks, and her voice is soft and hesitant.
"Yes," you reply, and you can't keep the desire out of your voice.
She starts to stroke you slowly, and you can feel her fingers moving up and down your length, and it feels so good. Her touch is so delicate, so gentle, so loving, so careful, and you can't get enough of it.
You can't help but look down at her now. She's staring at you with a mixture of fascination and desire, and you can see the way her eyes move as she takes in every inch of you. That's Hanni, right there, and you can't believe that she's doing this to you.
"I've never seen one this close before," she whispers, and then she's leaning in, and you feel her breath on you. "I didn't realise it would be so warm. Or that it would feel so... alive."
She's still holding you, and you're still looking at her, and then she's looking up at you, and your eyes meet. Her expression is a mix of curiosity and lust. It's an expression that sends a shiver down your spine.
She kisses the tip. It's a gentle kiss, and it sends a jolt of pleasure through you. She looks up at you again, and there's a smile on her lips.
"Do you like that?"
"Yes," you breathe, and you're surprised by the huskiness in your voice.
"Good." She kisses you again, and then she's running her tongue over the tip. "It tastes funny," Hanni laughs gently and smiles. "I don't know if I like it yet, but I think I do."
She licks you again, and then she's kissing you, and then she's licking you, and then suddenly she's doing both. Her lips part in one of her kisses and she takes the head into her mouth so her tongue can work uninterrupted. She's licking around the head, and then she's taking you deeper, and you can feel her tongue exploring your shaft. It's incredible. It's unlike anything you've ever felt before. You've seen this before, on screen, or in magazines, or whatever, but nothing could have prepared you for the sensation of having her mouth around you.
"Oh god," you groan. "Hanni..."
It's all encouragement for her. A signal to her unsure mind that yes, this is exactly what you want and it feels as good as anything that you could have imagined. You're already sensitive, so every little movement of her tongue sends a shockwave of pleasure through you. You can't keep your eyes off her, watching her lips slide down your shaft, her tongue flicking at the head, her cheeks hollowing as she sucks you, her eyes looking up at you, checking that what she's doing is right.
She's breathing heavily from her nose, and the hot hair is kissing your skin. You can't believe you're seeing her like this, that this is the girl you grew up with.
"Hanni..."
She doesn't respond. She's too focused on the task at hand, on making you feel good. And she's doing a good job of it. A very good job of it.
"Hanni..."
Her eyes flick up to meet yours, and she stops moving her head. "Is something wrong?" she asks, her voice muffled by your cock. She pulls her head back, letting you slip out of her mouth, and a string of saliva connects the tip to her lower lip.
"No, no, no," you say quickly, "nothing's wrong. I just... I don't think I'm going to last much longer." You're embarrassed. You've never been in a situation like this before, and you're not sure what to expect, or what you're supposed to do. But you know that you're close to cumming, and you don't want to do it in her mouth.
"That's okay, just don't let the other girls hear us," she says, and then she's smiling at you, and then she's taking you in her mouth again, and then she's moving her head up and down, and then you're watching her cheeks hollow as she sucks you. Tongue running patterns over the underside of your length, you can't take much more.
"Oh god, Hanni, I'm going to—"
She doesn't stop. She doesn't slow down. She doesn't even flinch. She just keeps going, and you can't hold back any longer. You can feel the orgasm building inside you, and you can't stop it, and you don't want to, and you're not sure if you should, and you're not sure what to do, and—
You cum, and it's the most intense orgasm of your life. You can't help but cry out in pleasure, and you feel your hips buck involuntarily, and you feel her tongue continue to lap at the head as your cum spills out of her mouth. She doesn't pull back, she doesn't stop, she doesn't do anything to stop you from cumming in her mouth, she just keeps going, and you can feel her swallowing some of it. Some pools on your skin.
"Oh god," you say, and your voice is a whimper, and you're still trembling with pleasure.
Hanni pulls away and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. She looks up at you, and there's a mischievous grin on her face.
"Wow," she says, and then she's giggling. "I wasn't expecting that!"
"Are you okay?" you ask, and your voice is shaky.
"I'm good." She smiles and crawls up so she can rest her head on your shoulder, half draping her body over yours, your bare skin touching. She kisses your neck, her breath tickles your skin. You put an arm around her, holding her close. "I didn't know that would be so fun. Can I do it again?"
"Not right now," you say through strained breath. "Maybe later."
"Okay." She's looking up at you, and she has that same goofy grin on her face. "Was that okay? I've never done it before."
"It was more than okay," you say, and you can hear the awe in your own voice. "That was incredible."
"Really?" She sounds pleased with herself. "I wasn't sure what I was doing."
"It was perfect," you say, and then you kiss her forehead, and then you kiss her lips, and then you're lost in the sensation of her body pressed against yours. You can't believe that you're here, that you're doing this, that you're with her.
"I'm glad," she murmurs, and then she's looking at you again. "So, what now?"
"Can I try?" you ask. "With you, I mean. Can I... use my mouth on you?"
"You don't have to," she says quickly, but then her voice trails off. She seems unsure.
"I want to," you say. "If you want me to."
Her smile is wide and her eyes are bright. "I do," she says. She kisses you on the lips, and then she's rolling onto her back.
You lean over her, and your hands are shaking, and your heart is racing, and you're not sure what to do, or where to start, or if you're going to be any good at this, but you want to try. You want to make her feel as good as she made you feel. You want to taste her, to explore her with your tongue, to learn what makes her moan, what makes her gasp, what makes her squirm. You want to make her feel as good as you do.
So you start where you began earlier, at her chest, and you spend some time just appreciating them. Kissing them. Running your tongue over her nipples. Squeezing. Massaging. Listening to her breathing change.
"I love these," you mutter. "They're beautiful. You're beautiful."
Hanni doesn't respond with much more than a pleasured hum, but she doesn't need to. You can tell she's enjoying this, enjoying the attention. And it's a good thing too, because you have no intention of stopping. Not until she tells you to, at least. You keep kissing and licking and sucking her nipples, and you can feel her arching her back, pressing herself into your mouth, and you can hear her breath growing heavier, and her heart races.
Hanni gives a deep, full-bodied moan, the loudest she has so far. You take it as a signal to descend, and you trail kisses over her stomach, which makes her giggle and squirm. You feel the heat radiating off her body. Her scent is strong—intoxicatingly so.
When you reach the waistband of her tight black shorts, you pause for a moment, and then you hook your fingers under the elastic and pull them down. You're not even sure what to expect underneath, but whatever you had in your mind, the reality is so much better. Her black panties are lacy, and they hug her body perfectly, accentuating every curve, every dip, every contour. They're so sexy, so beautiful, that you can't help but stare. Your mouth hangs open and you can feel your dick stirring back to life already. You can't believe that you're here, that you're seeing her like this.
You take time to admire her. Her thighs and her hips and the delicate apex underneath the wet panties. Then you look up her body, taking in the way her wide hips give way to the curve of her waist, the way her breasts rise and fall with each breath, the way her hair frames her face, the way her eyes shine in the dim light, and they stare at you, accompanying her smile.
"What are you thinking?" she asks, and her voice is barely a whisper. "I know that face. You always have that look on your face when you're thinking about something."
"You're the most beautiful girl in the world," you say, and you mean it, and you're not sure why you've never told her before.
Her smile widens and she laughs, covering her face. "You're so cheesy," she says, but you can tell that she likes it, that she appreciates it, that she loves it.
"Can't help it," you say, and then you lean down and kiss her stomach again, the muscles tense under your lips, and her breath catches. You kiss your way down to the edge of her panties, and then you pause.
"Is this okay?" you ask, and you're not sure why, but you feel like you need her permission, even having come this far.
"More than okay," she replies, and her voice is soft and breathy, and full of desire.
You smile, and then you kiss the edge of her panties again, and then you start to pull them down. You can feel the fabric stick to her skin as you peel them off her body, revealing her pussy. The sight of it takes your breath away, and you can't help but stare. It's beautiful, of course, but it's also more than that. It's Hanni. It's the most intimate part of her body, the most vulnerable, the most sensitive, the most private, and it's right there in front of you, and she's permitting you to touch it, to taste it, to explore it. She trusts you.
You place your palms on her thighs and spread her legs. You move your head between them and you plant the most delicate of kisses on her wet skin. Her body twitches. Another kiss, and another, and another, and you can feel her legs tremble. You can feel her body tense.
"You're so wet," you say, and you can't keep the awe out of your voice. You can feel her juices on your lips, and you lick them off, tasting her for the first time. It's sweet yet musky, and it's a taste that you want more of. You lick her now, a few tentative ones over her lips and then one from bottom to top, ending at her clit. She reacts more to that last one. So that's the spot, then. You repeat that pattern a few times.
"Oh god, that feels so good," Hanni moans, her head tilting back and her eyes closing.
"I can do better," you whisper, and then you focus on the peak of your previous licks, pushing your tongue between her lips where she's most sensitive. Hanni gasps, her hips bucking involuntarily, and her thighs tense, her hands gripping the bedsheets, and she's so responsive, so sensitive, so receptive to your touch, that you can't help but smile. You keep licking, flicking your tongue over her clit, teasing it, circling it, and you can feel her thighs tremble, her hips rock, and her breathing grows heavier and heavier.
"Oh, oh, oh," she murmurs, and her voice is a whimper, and it's so cute, and so sexy, that you can't help but moan into her pussy, the vibrations sending shivers through her body, and she whimpers again.
Now it's your turn to lock your lips against her, enclosing around her sensitive nub. You suckle on her clit, running your tongue over it, and she's rocking her hips against every movement of your tongue. It's the sexiest thing you've ever heard. All the gasps, whimpers, and moans. You could listen to it all day.
In a moment of realisation, you worry if the others can hear it. If they're in their own rooms, then probably not, but you know that at least one of them is asleep in the living room. Your head is buried in your best friend's pussy. What if someone knocks on her door? How would you explain this? What if—
"Oh god, oh god, oh god," Hanni cries and her voice is louder than before, and you can hear the desperation in her tone, and you can feel her body tensing, her back arching, and her hands gripping the sheets tighter and tighter. "Don't stop, don't stop," she moans.
Her thighs clasp around your head and all your worries about being caught are washed away with a new fear. You're trapped between her thighs. Your head is being crushed by the muscles you were just admiring. You're going to die here, between her legs. It's a pretty good way to go, though, so you accept it. At least you got to eat her out.
But then, as suddenly as it came, the pressure is released. Her legs go limp, and her body sags, and her breathing slows, and her hands relax, and she's lying there, panting, and trembling, and whimpering.
"Holy shit," she whispers, and her voice is hoarse, and you can't help but feel a sense of pride. You made her cum. You made her cum hard. "That was amazing," she whines. "I didn't know it would feel that good."
You smile, and you kiss her pussy, and then her inner thigh, and then the crease of her hip, and then you move up her body, kissing her stomach, and her breasts, and her neck, and finally you reach her lips. You kiss her, and she kisses you back, and then you're both laughing, giggling, and smiling, and holding each other close.
"That was incredible," she says, and her voice is soft and breathy, and she's looking up at you with wide, sparkling eyes. She kisses you again, and then you're lost in the sensation of her body pressed against yours.
"I didn't know it would be that good," you admit. "I thought it would be nice, but not like that."
"Me neither," she whispers, and she's looking at you with a mixture of awe and adoration. "I've never felt anything like that before."
You smile, and you kiss her again, and then you're both lying there, holding each other, basking in the afterglow.
"So," she says, after a few moments. "I don't want this to be over. I want to keep feeling like this."
"What do you mean?"
She smiles, and her eyes are full of mischief. "You know what I mean."
"Are you sure?" you ask, and you can't keep the excitement out of your voice.
"Yes," she whispers, and her voice is soft and breathy, and full of desire. "I've been thinking about it for a while. There's, uh, things in the top drawer."
"Things?"
"Just open it, dummy," she laughs, and you do. Inside, there's a sealed pack of condoms. You pick it up, and you can feel your heart racing, and you can feel the blood rushing to your cock, and you can feel the excitement building inside you. You turn back to her, and she's looking at you with a mixture of love and lust. Her eyes are full of anticipation, and she's biting her lip.
"You've thought a lot about this, haven't you?" you ask, and you can't help but grin. "You've had these just waiting here?"
She blushes and looks away, but then she looks back at you and smiles shyly. "Maybe."
You take one out and kneel back on the bed, between Hanni's spread legs. You know what to do. Simple. But the way that Hanni is looking at you, with a mixture of anticipation and excitement, is making it difficult to focus, and your hands are shaking.
You manage it, though. You roll the condom down your shaft and look at her. Her smile is wide and bright, and you can't help but smile back. She reaches for you and pulls you down on top of her.
"I can't believe we're doing this," you say.
"Me neither," she giggles, and then you're kissing again, and it's a hungry kiss, full of passion and desire. You feel her hand move between you and take hold of your cock, and you feel her guide it to her entrance, and then you're both pressing forward. The kisses are replaced by shared gasps, and your forehead comes to rest against hers. She's so warm, so wet, and so tight, that you have to pause for a moment, just to catch your breath, and she does the same, her eyes closed, her brow furrowed in concentration.
"Are you okay?"
She nods quickly and then tells you, "Keep going."
So you do. You push forward, slowly, carefully, and she takes you, inch by inch, until you're fully inside her, and you're both breathing heavily, and you're both trembling, and you're both holding onto each other, and it feels incredible.
"Wow," she whispers, and her voice is a whimper, and you can't help but smile.
"Yeah," you breathe, and you're smiling too, and then you're both sharing a laugh. "Doesn't it hurt? I thought it was supposed to—"
"A little, but don't worry," she tells you. "I'll let you know if it gets too much. Just... take it slow, okay?"
"Okay," you say, and then you start to move, slowly, and carefully, and her body responds to every movement, every thrust, every inch. Her hips rock against yours, and her hands grip your back, and her nails dig into your skin, and her lips press against your neck. She's so unbelievably tight.
"Hanni," you whisper, and your voice is a low growl, and you can't help but groan as you feel her muscles clench around your cock.
"Don't stop," she whines, and her voice is a needy whimper, her body is pressing against yours, and her legs are wrapping around your hips, pulling you closer, keeping you deep inside of her.
You pick up speed, but not too fast. You don't want this to end, you never want this to end, but you can't help yourself. It feels so good. It feels so right. It feels perfect. It feels like everything you've ever wanted.
"Oh god," you groan, and you plant your hand against her—half on her thigh, half on her ass. You grasp her soft flesh as you try to bury yourself deeper. Her body tenses in response. She likes it. "You're amazing."
"Mmm... more..." she moans, and you can't help but smile.
You start to thrust harder, faster, and her hips start to rock against yours, and you're both lost in the sensation. Breathless whimpers are broken by raw moans, which you try to stifle with kisses so no one can hear you, and then you're both lost in the rhythm, the back and forth, the ebb and flow. You're both in sync, both moving together, and it's the most beautiful thing in the world. You can feel the pressure building inside you, and you can feel her body tensing, and her breathing quickening, and you're both so close.
Hanni brings her hands to your head, running her fingers into your hair and pulling your ear to her mouth. She lets out a moan right into it, before telling you, "Take it off." You're not sure it's a good idea, but she's insistent. "I want to feel you. All of you. Please. Take it off."
"Hanni... I don't think—"
You're cut off by her moving her hands to your shoulders and pushing you onto your back. Hanni leans over you and looks down at your throbbing cock. "Let's do it properly." She reaches down and rolls the rubber off your shaft, leaving it bare. Your stomach clenches in a mix of excitement and fear. She throws the condom aside and then she climbs on top of you, straddling your waist, and her pussy hovers above your cock.
"Hanni, we shouldn't—" you start, but she cuts you off again. She takes hold of your shaft and rubs the tip of your cock along her wet folds. Her juices coat your cock. Her warm pussy teases the tip. Your eyes roll back in your head.
"It's okay," she whispers, and then she pushes your tip inside her, and she gasps, and you moan, and then she's sinking onto you, and you're sliding up inside her, and you're both breathing heavily, and you're both moaning, and you're both lost in the sensation.
"Oh god," you moan, and you can't help but grab her hips and pull her down, and you can't help but thrust up into her. You're bare. You're inside her, skin-to-skin, and it's the most incredible thing you've ever felt. The way she rocks her hips drives you insane. She's so warm, so wet, and so tight, that you're not sure how long you can last.
"Don't cum," she whispers, and her voice is a needy whimper, and she's looking down at you with wide, pleading eyes. "Not yet."
"I'm not sure I can—"
"You have to," she says, and she's looking down at you with desperate eyes, and you can't help but nod. "Please," she says, and she's grinding her hips against you, and she's riding you, and she's fucking herself with your cock, and she's moaning, and whimpering, and gasping, and you're both lost in the sensation.
"I'm close," you warn her. "I can't—"
"Wait for me," she whines, and you can feel her body start to tense, and you can feel her walls clench around your cock, and you can feel her start to tremble. "I'm—"
With a loud moan, her body tenses and cuts her words off. Her pussy clenches, and her hands grip your chest, nails digging into your skin, and her eyes squeeze shut. Her whole body quivers as her orgasm washes over her, and you can't help but thrust up into her, pushing yourself as deep as you can go. She cries out in pleasure, and you feel a heat in the pit of your stomach.
You thought nothing would be as intense as when you burst into Hanni's mouth, yet just half an hour later, you realise that was nothing compared to this. The rush is so powerful, so overwhelming, that it almost knocks the wind out of you. You can't breathe, you can't think, and you can't stop the flood of cum that's filling her. You can feel it, and she can feel it, and it's so hot, and so thick, and so wet, that you can't help but groan.
Pulsing and throbbing inside her, Hanni keeps riding you, her hips rolling, her thighs trembling and her cute little tits bouncing. Your cum spills out of her, and the mess is pooling beneath you both. It's the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. You can't help but smile as you watch her. She's so perfect, so beautiful, and you're inside her—the reason she's cumming.
She collapses on top of you, her head on your shoulder, and her body limp. She's breathing heavily, and you're both covered in a sheen of sweat. You wrap your arms around her and hold her close, and she does the same, her fingers running through your hair, and she's kissing your neck, and your cheek, and your lips. You kiss her back, and it's a soft, gentle kiss, full of love, affection, and gratitude.
"I can't believe we just did that."
You can feel her smile against your skin. "I can't believe I let you cum in me," she giggles. "It felt so good, though." She lifts herself up and looks down at you, her smile wide and her eyes sparkling. "Did I do okay?"
"You were incredible," you say, and you mean it.
"Maybe next time we could—"
"Next time?" you ask, making sure you heard her right.
"Yes," she says, and her voice is soft and shy, and she's looking at you with a mixture of love and lust. "I want to do that again. And again. And again."
"Me too," you say, and you can't help but smile.
-
She's asleep. You're lying in her bed, watching her. She's so beautiful, and you can't stop looking at her. You can't stop thinking about her. About what you've done. You're not sure how you're going to get to sleep. She's snuggled up to you, her head resting on your shoulder, and her legs tangled with yours. Her breathing is slow and steady. She's peaceful, and you're so happy. You can't remember the last time you were this happy.
You can't remember the last time you felt so content. It's strange. It's like you've been living your life in a fog. You've been drifting, and you've been lost, and you've been searching for something, but Hanni has been right here. She was right in front of you, all along.
You just didn't realise it, until now.
#Hanni smut#Newjeans smut#male reader#kpop smut#m reader#Hanni x reader#praelmas#smut#kpop fanfic#kpop fanfiction
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Upcoming cards!
(Jabberwock Kemomimi, Tarot Ritsu, Wedding Jiro, and next episode's theme!)
Character Card: Peculiar Rabbit(「不思議の牧場の案内人」 "Wonderful Ranch Guide")
Skill: Step Right Up(「客引きトーク」 "Solicitor Talk")
Fully Awakened Skill: Quick Wit Clever Hands(「口八丁手八丁」 "Eloquent And Skilled")
Warding Card: Unexpected Weakness(「陽も木から落ちる」 "Haru Also Will Fall Out Of A Tree")
MORE FREE FEET
Character Card: Enigmatic Stag(「幽けき光に照らされて」 "Illuminated By The Dim Light")
Skill: Broken Horn(「折れた角」 "Broken Horn")
Fully Awakened Skill: Hidden Wish(「秘めた願い」 "Hidden Wish")
Warding Card: Swanky Ensemble(「光舞う空間の合奏」 "Ensemble of Dancing Light Between Them")
Character Card: Mournful Hound(「挑め望まぬアウトドア」 "Taking On The Unwanted Outdoors")
Skill: Forced Labor(「強制労働」 "Forced Labor")
Fully Awakened Skill: Is This Harassment?(「パワハラっすか」 "Is This Power Harassment?")
Warding Card: Laundry Weather(「お洗濯日和」 "Ideal Weather For Doing Laundry")
Somebody who knows tarot cards should tell us what this means lol. Also it seems like all of their card, skill, and warding card names for this set will follow the same naming pattern which is cool. Knowing this I'm pretty sure I mistranslated Kaito's--his description is "friendly" and in Japanese it was something like "close to you", as in he's the PC's closest friend here.
Character Card: The Knight Of Pentacles(「金貨のナイトの誘惑」 "The Allure Of The Knight Of Pentacles")
Skill: Law Wielder(「六法の使い手」 "Wielder of the Compendium Of Laws")
Fully Awakened Skill: Steel Ghoul(「鋼のグール」 "Steel Ghoul")
Warding Card: Unshakable Lost Property(「挫けぬ銀河の落とし物」 "Unbreakable Lost Property")
Not in the monster.json so i have no clue if it's coming out soon but the card name was in the file with unit names so i was able to dig this one out
Character Card: Patient Groom(「今日の白衣は特別仕様」 "Today's White Clothes Are Special" (「白衣」/"white clothes" in this case refer to the garments/labcoats/etc worn by doctors and chemists and the like--basically "instead of wearing white for work I'm wearing white for my wedding"))
Skill: Sincere Bouquet(「誓いの花束」 "Bouquet of Vows")
Fully Awakened Skill: Unforgettable Memory(「二度と忘れぬ想い」 "Unforgettable Experience")
Warding Card: Unchanging Expression(「変わらぬ表情で」 "Unchanging Expression")
Cosmic bonds haven't updated yet. I even tried manually deleting and redownloading their files. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
And next episode is FROSTHEIM IN KNIGHT ATTIRE!! A lot of people have been waiting for Frostheim lol Jin is gonna have like 10 cards if he doesn't already goddamn
The episode will be called "Episode 13: Murder At The Masquerade"(「エピソード 13: 仮面舞踏会殺人事件」 )!
As usual!
Gacha is gambling! Keep a close eye on your spending, or don't spend at all! Don't spend any money you can't afford to lose and seek help from a professional if you may be losing control of your spending!
Remember that units always rerun eventually! You can always save for next time!
My Japanese is not very good so take my translations with a grain of salt
Good luck!
#tokyo debunker#haru sagara#towa otonashi#ren shiranami#ritsu shinjo#jiro kirisaki#danie yells at tokyo debunker#datamining cw#tokyo debunker spoilers#the face i made when i realized there was hidden wedding jiro. . .i was pogging my friends lmao#zenji kotodama#(in towa's card anyway)
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🍫•SEONGHWA ONE-SHOT•🍫
♡✧˖°🍒Hot chocolate🍒♡✧˖°
Warnings//genre:: SMUT, DRUGGING/APHRODISIACS, mutual masturbation, oral (f rec) face fucking, creampie, sweat fetish, marking,
Pairing:: dom!seonghwa x sub!fem!reader
A/N:: I really don't know what to say...I hope yall like this tho, I worked hard on it 🙏
As you stirred the forbidden sweets into the hot chocolate you were making for you and your boyfriend you think back on what he had said a few weeks ago. "Wouldn't it be fun to try some aphrodisiacs?" He brought it up at the most random time. On another occasion, he mentioned putting it in cake or cookies as a surprise but never actually did it but today, you made the move. "Is it almost done?" Seonghwa asks warmly from the livingroom and you smile with a nod before carrying the cups out to the living room couch where you'd be watching your movie.
You and Seonghwa just came back from taking a walk out in the snowfall at night and though it was magical and aesthetic it was so cold. The two of you decided to snuggle up with some hot cocoa and watch a movie but you thought it'd be fun to sneak some aphrodisiacs into your drinks. He wouldn't mind...right?
You give him his cup and he's completely unsuspecting. You get about twenty minutes into the movie and he hasn't taken a single sip of it, because it was too hot, but you get worried that he might've caught you. You continue as if everything is normal, cuddling up beside him and taking occasional sips. You knew what was in it but you wanted to see. natural. You then saw him beginning to drink it and suddenly, his drink is gone.
We're honestly excited at the fact that a, he didn't catch you, and b, he was gonna be unbearably horny in about 15 minutes and you couldn't wait to see how he'd react. It began with him shifting a lot beside you and then clearing his throat more than usual. You take a quick glance up at him and you can tell he is flushed, but you don't assist him. Instead, you wait for him to confess his dilemma.
"Is it hot in here or is it just me?" He says as he breathes heavily, you swear you could see the puff of warmth from his breath like a sex scene in those BL Mangas.
"It's a little warm," you nod. "Could be all the hot chocolate you chugged," you tease and poke his chest and you can see the struggle in his eyes. Seonghwa fights to seem calm and normal but on the inside, he is panicking. He can feel the sweat building along his body, his heart thumping in his ears to the same rhythm as his cock just aching to beat inside of you. His breath always seems out of reach as he inhales sharply.
"Baby, I feel like something is wrong," he slicks his hair back as he feels a glob of precum trail down his cock and soak his pajamas. You set down your cup and turn to him.
"What's up, baby?" You look up at him trying to hide your smile as he pants but he only grumbles in response, not sure how to tell you how he's feeling.
"It's like...I'm so horny it hurts but I don't know why? It just started for no reason," Seonghwa explains as you examine his fucked up features, pink cheeks, glossy eyes, and that dark haze hiding beneath his pupils that are blown out. You officially can't hide your smile anymore and turn into a little smirk to play it off in this situation. "Why are you smiling?" His voice is weary as if he is putting the piecing of the puzzle together in his head as he talks.
"I'm not!" You protest but Seonghwa is already on your trail. "Just since you're feeling this way we could indulge in some...activities," You smirk and Seonghwa's breath hitches at your words.
"Not until you tell me why this is happening," Seonghwa grins and you let out a sigh.
"Fine. I melted some aphrodisiacs into our hot chocolate," You confess and Seonghwa's jaw drops. He finally pauses the TV as he takes a deep breath.
"I should be pissed at you," He begins and you nod in understanding. "But I am way too fucking hard to care," He pulls you closer, resting you on his lap. As he pulls you up you feel his raging boner against your clothed pussy. You take a glance down out of curiosity and his sweatpants are strained into a tent with a dark, wet patch at the tip. Seonghwa smirks as he follows your eyes, making eye contact when you look back at him. "I'm not in the mood to be patient and it's your fault so you're gonna take it," Seonghwa practically rips his clothes off before kneading and clawing at yours. He starts with your shirt before moving lower, yanking off your pants and panties to reveal your soaked and throbbing cunt. He picks you up by your thighs and plops you back down on the couch. He snaps your legs open and, without warning, he wraps his swollen and wet lips along your pussy lips.
"Fuck, Seonghwa!" You jump as your legs jolt up and already you can feel the aphrodisiacs working. Every time his tongue grazes over any sort of sensitive area you feel like you could scream in pleasure, but instead, you just grab and yank his hair.
Seonghwa sucks one of your little folds into his mouth before rolling it back and forth along his tongue. You let out a loud cry as your back arches and it only stirs him on more; the way he was eating you out was like he hadn't eaten in months, like he was deprived of a feast for years and he finally got his chance to be feral. The room fills you with the sound of him slurping, sucking, spitting, and moaning along with your squeals and sobs. "I-I'm close," You sob out and Seonghwa drags his tongue along your slit, poking his tongue into your entrance. His hands come around to grope your thighs leaving red marks. You felt as though it was too early to cum but due to the aphrodisiac, you didn't care.
You then let the band snap in your stomach and you cum into Seonghwa's mouth, your hands matted in his hair as you do so. Seonghwa drinks up your arousal instantly and as soon as he's satisfied he's standing up again. He sits down beside you as you pant. He leans over to look up at you, those big boba eyes silently pleading for something.
"Baby, can we masturbate together?" he asks straight up and your eyes widen. His hand was already lingering around his twitching cock that was constantly leaking precum.
"S-Sure," you smile with a soft nod. You felt flustered by his direct question but you drew yourself back into the moment. Seonghwa softly palms his tip as he moans directly into your ear, his moans are soft and rather quiet but there is a hidden desperation in them. You hesitantly bring your fingers down between your legs, running a finger up your slit to collect up some of the arousal and cum there. You dip a finger inside yourself with ease and gasp softly, the feeling of your finger being squeezed and the intrusion in your pussy. Seonghwa is directly watching as he strokes his cock slowly, his arousal sticking to his hand loudly.
"Just like that darling," he kisses your jaw between moans. "You're so fucking hot," he bites his lip and you feel like you're masturbating with a stranger; it's been a long time since you've seen Seonghwa so lustful and dirty. There's this raw hunger in his voice that makes your spine tingle. He watches the way your fingers are drawn back out from your tight heat and he can't stop staring. "I could cum right fucking now baby," he growls as he fists himself harder, the side of his hand slapping against the base of his shaft.
Seonghwa's raw desire begins to rub off on you as he presses his sweaty body against yours. Without warning he jumps over the edge, cumming onto your stomach. You gasp softly as you watch his load spurt out onto your body. Your face flushes and your fingers slow, watching his massive load spill over. "Want my cock in your mouth babygirl," he brings his leg up to rest on the arm of the couch as he grabs your head. You gasp in surprise but your mouth is quickly filled with his cock. Seonghwa was acting so abruptly and demanding, not even giving you seconds to process what he was saying or doing.
He gently rolls his hips back and forth, forcing his cock to glide in and out of your mouth. "You're doing so good," he throws his head back as he holds your head, his hands tangled in your hair. "I know I'm being...forceful but I can't fucking help it," he whines lowly as sweat drips down his neck, bobbing along with his Adam's apple. He lets out a choked whimper. "As soon as I cum I feel like I'm gonna cum again...I feel like I fucking animal in heat," his fist tightens in your hair as his hips move harder, gagging you. Tears build in his eyes as he teeters over the edge. "Just a little longer..." he drops his head forward as he groans, sweat dripping off from the tip of his nose onto your chest.
He then unloads in your mouth, cramming his cock in your jaw. "Good girl," he growls loudly. He pulls his cock out quickly and watches as his cum pours from your mouth, his cock hardening again almost instantly. You cough softly before speaking.
"I'm sorry hwa, I didn't know it was that strong," you apologize sincerely, and he quickly pins you to the couch again.
"Don't apologize...I love it," he smirks softly and you watch as the sweat drips down his face. He lines his cock up with your entrance, rubbing his tip against it. "Let me fuck you, please," his head falls to your chest, his forehead leaving a print of sweat. "Just wanna fuck you, fill you up, make you mine," he whines before kissing your chest. "Make you scream," he trails his hands down your sides. "I know I've been rushing all night but..." he lets out a choked groan. "I need you," He sighs as he picks up his head to gauge your reaction.
"It is my fault you feel this way so..." You look down shyly before meeting his gaze. "Use me baby, use me until you're satisfied," You caress the side of his face, your hand collecting up some of the sweat. Seonghwa grins before pushing his hips forward, moaning as you envelop his cock with your tight heat.
"I'll try to go slow," He says between gentle groans.
"Don't worry about it. Use me until the buzz is gone," You smile softly and tangle your fingers into his damp hair. The long dark strands sticking to your hand. His hips move slow at first, taking his time to allow the pleasure between the two of you to build up, but eventually Seonghwa falls to his own lust once again. Seonghwa pants heavily as he pounds into you, his desire now building and slowly taking over.
"Can I cum inside baby?" He asks just to be sure.
"Of course," You nod with shaky breath, his cock never loses it's pace. His hips snap harder against yours as his breathing quickens as he grips onto your hips.
"Wanna fill you up and make you cum at the same time," He groans before leaning down, wrapping his arms around your body as his body weight begins to rest lightly against yours. "Are you getting close baby?" He asks as he feels your walls grip his cock. You nod in response and he smirks before biting your neck, sucking on the sweet and soft skin. His hands ghost over your body with a slight tremble of raw desire and hunger. "Cum for me," he growls into your ear. "Wanna see you feelin' good," he says before groaning, his cock twitching inside you.
You dig your nails into his back as the pleasure builds on layers, stacking one after another until your tumbling over.
"S-Seonghwa," you gasp softly as he smirks softly as he feels your warm wetness coating him.
"Good girl, Shh," he pets your hair before reaching his peak as well, his hot seed spurting out inside you. "Fuck," he gasps as his body goes limp against yours. "You did so good, I love you so much," he moans as he rests his sweaty head on your chest. He shakily wraps his arms around you and holds you close as he pants heavily. "I think I've worn it all out," he sighs. "I'm exhausted," Seonghwa chuckles softly and you smile before slicking back his hair
#ateez x reader#ateez fanfic#ateez smut#ateez hard hours#ateez hard thoughts#ateez scenarios#ateez seonghwa#ateez fic#seonghwa smut#park seonghwa smut#park seonghwa x reader#park seonghwa#seonghwa#ateez#ateez x female reader
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I like to imagine that the group of friends find the sleigh on the roof and think "holy shit." One of dudes hops into the big, red sleigh and grabs the reins, and Blitzen turns around with a scary, smug look. "Hey, you ain't Santa."
Everyone in the party looks baffled, trying to recollect if they had anything tonight to make them hear talking animals, but no. The reindeer can just talk.
"Uh..." The guy with the reins mumbles, "Santa's a bit... Tied up right now."
Cutaway to Santa just lounging in an armchair and staring at all the lights on the Christmas tree downstairs like he's never seen one before. With the most jolly, out of this world look on his face, he softly breathes out a, "ho ho ho..."
Cut back to the party on the roof. Dancer chimes in from in front of Blitzen, "we don't take orders from anyone besides the boss."
"C'mon guys, it's Christmas," a second guy chimes in. He's standing at the top of the ladder that they used to get up to the rooftop. "We just wanna help."
"You wanna help?" Blitzen chimes in, "then go get the jolly guy and tell him to get his keester up here. We were just making good time too."
"Wait Blitz," Cupid cuts in from next to the hostile reindeer. "I don't think they're lying."
"Cupid, for jolly goodness' sake," Blitzen rolled his eyes.
"I know a way they could help!" Rudolph added from the front of the line.
"Rudolph, keep quiet!" Blitzen yelled while gritting his flat teeth.
"Maybe we can't pull the sleigh without Santa, but if we pull something else that they have a lot of love for in their hearts, we can still have Christmas!"
Blitzen groaned, but Cupid nodded his head. "Ru is right." He turned to look at the blond man in the sleigh. "Do you all have a vehicle like that? Something that holds a lot of memories?"
The guy looked down at his shaggy brunette friend on the ladder, and the two locked eyes and felt the same idea click instantly. "Yeah," the blond guy answered, "we have something like that."
Already from down below, a feminine voice called from the driveway, "I already got the keys, Freddy!"
Everyone on the roof looked down on the snowy ground and saw two girls waiting by a blue and green van. The one that was waving and had called to them was in a thick orange sweater with heavy black glasses, and the other was leaning against the car door in her own purple, highly and tastefully ornamented sweater dress.
"Let's get going! Christmas won't save itself!" The girl in purple called cheerily.
Cupid looked to Blitzen. All the reindeer were ready to jump in on this idea, it was only Blitzen now. With a loud, whinnying groan, Blitzen caved in. "Fine, but if we get deernapped, I'm never letting you live this down."
"Deal," Cupid smiled before turning to the guy named Freddy, "now just unhook the sleigh and we can get a move on!"
"Uh... Yeah, sure" Freddy answered, glancing at this friend on the ladder. "Shaggy, can you help me out?"
"Uh... Gosh man, I can try?"
The two bumbling guys did their best to undo the complicated rig system, all while Blitzen scolded them for ruining Christmas and being the most incompetent bastards this side of the equator. Eventually they got it undone, and the reindeer flew down to the street with shocking levels of unspoken coordination. The girl in purple drove while the one in orange directed her. "Careful Daph! Take it slow!"
"Yeah, yeah!" Daphne answered as the car stopped with a harsh jerk. "I wasn't planning on driving tonight, you know!"
With some tedious turns and a poke at the reindeer in the back of the line, the party managed to somehow get the reindeer hooked up to the Mystery Van. Once it was secure, the party of four and Shaggy's dog stowed inside the car with Freddy behind the wheel.
"Okay gang, let's get the job done!" Freddy cheered.
"And get some more snacks for later!" Shaggy called from the backseat. With a vroom of the engine, the reindeer began to pull and the Mystery Van miraculously began to take off into the Christmas night sky.
The Mystery Gang was off to save Christmas.
#writing#christmas#woops I spilled something here#idk maybe Blitzen gets hurt halfway through and Scooby has to pull the sleigh#Rudolph gives him advice and they become best pals#and Blitzen becomes a tsundere by the end of the night#by the time they get home Santa is still in that arm chair#he's looking at those Christmas lights and dazing out of reality#they all share a laugh at fucked up santa and the credits roll#anyways merry belated christmas#make it pg and call it “magic cookies” lol#accidental fanfic
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Would you fall in love with me again?
• Synopsis: he knew football changed him. That's why he couldn't help but be scared. Would you still love him the same?
• Characters: Kunigami Rensuke (post Wild Card), Sae Itoshi, Michael Kaiser
• TW: Kaiser had an episode, the f word like one time
• A/N: EPIC consumed my mind.
𝕂𝕦𝕟𝕚𝕘𝕒𝕞𝕚 ℝ𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕦𝕜𝕖
He was different.
That was the first thing you noticed when Kunigami Rensuke, your boyfriend, knocked at your door on a random wednesday after disappearing for 7 months to go to some "Blue Lock" project.
"Is it really you?" You asked, voice dripping with doubt and love at the same time. Your knuckles were white from how strong your hold on the door was "Or am I dreaming once again?"
"I am not the man you feel in love with" he said, his deep voice wavering, not even giving you a proper 'Hello, how are you?' after so long "I am not your calm and gentle boyfriend. I've changed. For good"
You stayed silent, though it was not by choice. You were just so, so overwhelmed by emotions that it seemed like you had forgotten how to speak. Your tongue felt heavy inside your mouth, and your eyes were wide, unmoving, despite the tears threatning to spill from them, almost as if if you blinked, Kunigami, your house and everything else around you would disappear, and this would be nothing more than one of the countless dreams you had with him.
"Kuni" you started, getting closer. Your hand perfectly cupped his cheeks, as if it was meant to be there, and he instantly leaned in, almost like it was second nature. You caressed the dark circles under his eyes, and you were sure you had similar ones from the nights spent locked in your room, crying and missing him "What kind of things did you do?"
"I gave up on my hero ideology" he lifted one of his hands and put it right above yours, still on his cheeks "As I destroyed friends and teammates like they were objects I could use" he closed his eyes, basking in your warmth. Gently, he kissed the inner part of your wrist and sighed in relief, almost as if he was still convincing himself that you were, indeed, very real "And I am not the love you once knew"
The tears that were in your eyes finally fell. You could feel his hands trembling - if you were feeling scared, he was terrified. Terrified that you would reject him. Terrified to be cast away from your life. Terrified of who he became.
"Well, if that's true" you swallowed hard, blinking as more tears kept coming "Could you do me a favour? Just a moment, I swear. Could you please pick up that flower over there?" You pointed to a Baby's breath, neatly arranged at the floor, beside the door "Could you carry it over? Take it far away from here, please"
Rensuke eyes suddenly shot opened, his own tears starting to appear
"How could you say this?" His voice got patheticay loud, and he despised himself for crying in front of you, but it couldn't be helped. What you asked him was ridiculous "I helped you plant that baby's breath on our first date. It's a simbol of everlasting love - our everlasting love." His voice grew louder, more desperate, like he was talking to someone kilometers away from him "I can't do that, you know it. The only way to move it is to cut it from it's roots."
You couldn't help but smile. You grabbed his free hand with your own one, looking directly at his eyes. It was like the world around you both had stopped, and even the birds' singing and cars noises ceased. You could only hear Kunigami's frantic breath in contrast to your calm one.
"Well, only my boyfriend knew that" you smiled, getting closer to him. You rested your forehead in his, closing your eyes. He followed your actions, sighing "So I guess that makes him you"
You pointed to his chest, right where his heart should be
"Don't tell me you're not the same person. It's still you, right here. And you know I've been waiting for you"
He opened his eyes, staring right at yours as both of you cried, ugly sobs coming from your mouths.
He was still your boyfriend, after all. Your lovely, amazing boyfriend who you loved so much it hurt.
And when he finally kissed you after months, trying to convey a love so raw and genuine through his actions, everything seemed to fall back into place again.
𝕊𝕒𝕖 𝕀𝕥𝕠𝕤𝕙𝕚
5 years.
That's how long you waited for Sae Itoshi to come back from Spain. To come back to Japan. To come back to you.
5 years of rejecting suitors. 5 years of dreaming of him every night. 5 years of suffering, yearning for your boyfriend who was all the way across the globe.
That's why, when he finally comes home looking even worse than you, you were not surprised.
"Are my eyes decieving me?" You smiled lightly, your nose already feeling stuffed - you knew you were about to cry
He muttered your name dreamily, staring at you intensely.
He's not sure how, but he managed to find the strength to smile your way. God, how long has it been since the last time he smiled? And yet, just by being next to you, he felt his lips stretching up.
Something was strange, though. You knew him. You knew Sae Itoshi, the boy who dreamed big and who you fell in love with. You knew him.
"Your eyes look tired" you frowned, getting closer and closer until your your knees were practically touching"Your smile's torn. You're different, Sae"
His smile fell, and you almost regretted what you had said. He grabbed your hands and caressed them with his thumbs, avoiding your gaze - something uncharacteristic of him
"Would you fall in love with me again?" He asked, sighing. His eyes finally met your gaze, and you could see the sadness in them - almost as if he was a young Atlas, carrying the weight of the whole world on his shoulders. You wish you could help somehow, ease his burden, but it was clear you couldn't "If you knew all I've done. The things I can not change."
His eyes sparkled, and Sae Itoshi never cried, but you swore you saw them getting a bit glossy. You didn't know what he was talking about, but he clearly had a fight with someone - probably a teammate or something.
"And I know you've been waiting for me" Sae continued, not giving you a chance to answer "But I am not the love you knew before. I am not the man you adored. I'm no longer him" he let go of your hands, staring right at you like he could read your soul - even though you knew if he could, he wouldn't understand a single thing. You weren't understanding your own thoughts. How could he?
"So tell me, Amor" he said, his spanish pronunciation way better than you remembered it to be "Would you fall in love with me again?"
A gentle silence settled between you, which was strange. You've dreamed for so long about what you'd say to him once you saw him again, and yet when you saw him you were completely at a loss of words.
Sae took your silence as an answer. He began to walk away, head hung low and hands on his pockets.
He knew this would happen. He knew it. He was not that Sae Itoshi. He was not even human. He was a machine, made for playing soccer. He knew you wouldn't accept him.
He knew it. Yet it didn't hurt any less when he grabbed his travel bag and started distancing himself from you
"I..." he heard you saying, and even though he tried not to, he stopped. He needed to hear your answer. His brain and heart needed closure.
He could practically hear the gears on your head turning, trying to find the right words to convey your feelings
"I will fall in love with you over and over again" you answered, voice steady "Doesn't matter how long it's been, Sae, I will always love you. I've waited for you. And I will always wait for you. You're mine, Sae. And I'm yours. That's something no amount of time or distance is ever going to change"
A gentle silence settled between you both once again, as you stared at eachother's eyes. The 10 meters that separated you both suddenly felt like 10 kilometers.
The snow felt like quicksand while Sae made his way to you, first taking hesitant steps, and then almost running to get to you.
And when he hugged you and you fit perfectly into the crook of his shoulder, you knew you'd be alright.
You were not going to give up on each other. No matter how hard things were.
You both then kissed each other, sealing that silent promise.
𝕄𝕚𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕖𝕝 𝕂𝕒𝕚𝕤𝕖𝕣
Kaiser has always been a hard person to deal with, but he's been way worse after the Neo Egoist League.
He was screaming at the smallest inconveniences, spent days without even sparing you a glance, trained till he passed out from exhaustion and was making even more snarky remarks, if it was even possible. He was not fine, and you knew that. You knew him.
Your suspicions were confirmed during one of his episodes.
Kaiser usually had some episodes while remembering his childhood trauma, and he always confided in you to help him overcome them.
You were proud of this arrangement, actually: trust has always been what held your relationship together.
That's why you couldn't make sense as to why he was hiding from you during one of the worsts - if not the worst - episodes you've ever seen him had.
"Micha?" You asked, finding him curled up in the corner of your shared closet "Are you okay?"
"Don't come near me" He whispered. His eyes were red from crying, and you could swear you saw a purple bruise on his neck. Why didn't he call you?
"Okay" your voice was gentle, as if you were soothing a kid "Okay. I won't come closer. But I'm right here. Just focus on my breath, my love. Can you follow it for me, please?" You began breathing louder, hoping he'd follow your lead
Sadly, he began shaking his head, breathing growing even more frantic
"I-I can't" he muttered, shaking like a leaf
"Of course you can" you whispered "C'mon, breath in" you breathed in and held for a while "breath out" you repeated. Finally, he followed your commands
Luckily, after a while, his breath began to come back to normal, and you pondered just what was going through his head to make him act like that.
"Can I come closer now?" You asked, voice still gentle. When he nodded, you wasted no time in sitting right next to him, still not touching his body
Silence was loud between you too, and you wondered if he was even going to speak something about it
"W..." he began, voice breaking. He then took a deep breath, preparing himself for what he was about to say "Would you fall in love with me again... if I lost all I had?" He asked. He gave you no time to think begore he continued "Would you have fallen in love with me if I was just a little kid with a fucked up, drunk dad? If I had no money, name or fame?" He looked at you, staring at your eyes like he would forget them the moment he looked elsewhere "Would you?"
Once again, silence enveloped the room.
"Forget it" he muttered, starting to get up "It was a stupid question"
He was almost standing when you put your hands on his knee, earning a confused "huh?" from him.
Just like he did earlier, you took a deep breath
"Michael, I don't care how, where, or when. You're mine. I love you for you. I don't care for your name, your value or your football abilities. I don't want to see Michael Kaiser, the emperor. I want to see Michael Kaiser, my boyfriend." You also got up, slowly reaching for his hands, like you were asking for permission. "I love you, Kaiser"
He tried really hard not to cry again. You could see it. The way he contorted his face before letting the tears fall freely.
One after the other, he began crying hard. Sobbing and hiccuping and all. He would never cry in front of anyone. Others would never see this version of him. But you would.
In a swift moment, you hugged him, feeling his arms hold you stronger as his cries got louder, uglier.
Strangely, he wasn't embarrassed. He was relieved.
Relieved he could be vulnerable in front of you. Relieved he could be himself.
He couldn't hide anything from you, could he? Well, he hoped he could at least hide that ring in his socks drawer.
But not for much longer, though. After what happened, he'll wife you up was soon as possible.
But for now, only the feeling of your arms grounding him was enough.
Masterlist
#blue lock#bllk#bllk manga#blue lock x reader#bllk x reader#bllk x you#blue lock x you#kaiser bllk#kaiser x y/n#kaiser x reader#bllk kaiser#blue lock kaiser#itoshi sae x reader#sae x you#sae x reader#itoshi sae#kunigami x reader#kunigami rensuke#bllk kunigami#blue lock kunigami#sae itoshi#michael kaiser
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It Always Leads To You
joel miller x younger fem!reader
summary: it's been a year; now you're back. how can joel be so sure of those old summer feelings in your eyes when there's a new hand holding yours?
warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, toxic relationship, cheating and infidelity themes, mutual pinning, kinda dark!joel, smut, p. in v., pussy pronouns, oral (f. receiving), fingering, manhandling, lowkey forced creampie, ANGST, the taylor swift evermore (2020) references go wild, happy ending cause y'all weak asses voted for it and i love to keep my citizens happy!
word count: 5,199 words
side note: my joel miller era is alive and breathing after this tlou re-watch i'm doing my brother swears it's for him but it's mostly me and my fic/womanly reasons, yes we love gaslight girlkeep girlbossing in here gotta say, finding inspiration for this amidst my wattpad duties and christmas movie marathon was harder than i thought lol. was it worth the wait? please like, comment and reblog to let me know! it's based on this request (they're still open btw!)
part: I / II
Holidays linger like bad perfume.
Your eyes wander through the streets: the roads you've got to call home, the ones where you grew up. They're familiar, but so foreign, it's hard to believe they're the same ones where you scrapped your knees at ten and kissed Joel just last winter. It's as if both timelines, your life, feels more like two separate lives, miles apart.
"Hey, you okay?" tender, from the driver's seat; you're still getting used to the soft.
There's a reassuring smile your way, his hand finding yours to give it a squeeze. You notice his palm is the same size as yours. It fits perfectly, but there's a ghost of what it feels like to have it all wrapped up, looming over your itchy palm like all the yearning's a joke.
You nod. "Just tired. That's all"
He sighs. "If I wanted you to lie to me, I would've just asked"
"I'm not lying" you defend yourself as his pickup truck parks on the sidewalk.
He makes a funny face, and you laugh.
"I'm serious, Nick" your lips purse, a thing you do when you lie, yet he still hadn't noticed, like Joel. "Don't worry"
He doesn't look that convinced, so you take off your seat belt and grab his hand.
"C'mon. Mom and dad must be waiting for us"
"Hey" Nick calls you out.
"Yeah?"
"Who lives there?" and he's pointing behind you.
It's his. Joel's house.
"A friend of my dad's" you answer, dryly.
It was last december when you stood there in his porch, begging. It feels like time has stopped ever since, and you're still right where he left you.
"So will he be here?" Nick asks. "You know, since he knows your dad"
"Don't think so" you shrug, "he's got better things to do anyway. Bitter old man" comes out, with more venom than intended.
"Oh! Alright, sorry for asking"
You come back to your senses, realizing you've shared more than you should.
"No, I'm sorry. It's not that important; let's just go inside"
Your mom and dad greet you as soon as you cross the door. Last year, you'd basically fled away before New Year's, with a poor excuse and a broken heart. They both greet you as if nothing happened, although you're sure they remember your tear streamed face coming back from Joel's house, where it all ended.
As your mom corners Nick with kisses and embarrassing questions, your dad whispers to you:
"Joel asked what happened" you quirk and eyebrow, "wanted to know why you left"
"Eh, it's not important" you try to dismiss. "Definitely not as important for a guy like Joel to know"
"What is that supposed to mean?" your dad inquires. You often wonder if they knew.
"Nothing" you laugh nervously. "Listen, why don't you go and meet Nick, yeah? Did you know he likes fishing too?"
The distraction works with your dad; the same can't be said about you.
There's conversation flowing, but through the snow covered window, your eyes keep glancing back to his own. The view is dark, and you ponder if he's fled as well, the town plagued with memories too painful to reminisce.
You can still feel his hands roaming your body, the lust filled gaze that hid warmth. Every time he touches you, you have to remind you he isn't there: that the lips that kiss you, don't taste like his, that the hands that hold you, aren't big as his, and that the face that looks at you like they'll never choose another, is one you haven't learned to love yet.
Joel's memory cuts like thorns: they sink their teeth into your heart, that bleeds with that blood-colored sadness you're all too familiar with. He's poisoned you. But-- isn't it his love also the antidote for this disease he's gave you?
You abruptly stand up, plate half eaten.
"I-I need some air"
It's cold outside, but you don't care. All you want to do is sit on the porch, and drop some tears, something you can do inside too, but the fear of your muffled cries being able to be heard stops you.
You walk towards the stairs, to sit there like you do on summer days, yet there's now a difference: the snow. So you end up slipping, falling with your butt on the floor.
You yelp, embarrased although no one can see you.
"Need help?"
That you're wrong, apparently.
You don't even need to raise your view to know who that voice belongs to: you know it like a record, spinning in circles on your head.
He offers his strong hand your way, and although the cold wind hits your face, you're back to spring on the cabin: wet feet, bright sun and beating heart.
"I can get up myself" you reject his help, pushing the hand out. You keep avoiding his gaze, so you don't see how he's reacted, yet you hope he feels bad about it.
You walk up to the front door, and it takes you a while to realize he hasn't left yet. On top of that, it seems like he's following you. Just what you needed.
"What are you doing here?" you question, but your tone sounds like you're offended.
"Your folks invited me over" Joel answers, "Says they got a special guest"
"Yeah" this time, you do look back, finding him to be much closer than you thought he'd be. Yet you stand tall, defiant even. "It's my boyfriend"
You savour the way his expression falters, before the stoic façade takes over again.
"Boyfriend?" Joel scoffs, as if you just told the funniest joke ever.
"Is that supposed to be funny?" you bite back. "What? Think a pretty girl can't get a new man?"
"Never said I'd doubt'it" he clicks his tongue. "Y'a could get any man you'd want, sugar"
Ironically, the only man you want stands before you.
"Right" you chuckle dryly, "I think it's kind of funny of you to say that"
Joel's eyes bore into yours, a clash of emotions circling in his chocolate orbs.
"Y/n-"
"Don't" you stop him. Then sigh, defeated. "Let's just go inside"
As soon as you both arrive on the dinning room, your parents both greet Joel. Then, they introduce him to their guest, just as promised.
"Joel, this is Nick, y/n's boyfriend" your father speaks. "Nick, this is Joel, a dear old friend of mine"
Nick, as the gentleman he is, offers his hand. Joel accepts, but you can see the barely desguised displease behind his eyes.
"Wow, strong grip" Nick comments before joking, "you can let go now, I'm not going anywhere"
The hidden meaning of his words, whether intentional or not, hit Joel in the face. It's obvious by the way he backtracks, letting go of Nick's hand.
As you sit again, Nick leans to your side and whispers.
"Is this the guy who lives in the house across the street?" you nod. "Thought you'd said he had better plans. But, see? I told you: no plan's more important than coming to your house"
He's always making jokes, trying to make you smile, but it's done the opposite now. The food has gone cold long ago, yet you cut through the meat with a violence so palpable, even your mom tells you to slow down.
The nerve of Joel, showing up to your house like it's nothing, talking to you like he's unaware of his spell on you, acting like Nick is some sort of competition when he pulled out of the race himself a winter ago.
"So, Nick. How did you two meet?" your mom adresses him, eager to know details.
"It was at a party, actually, through mutual friends. Not a very spectacular story, that I know. What's funny is, she asked me what hour it was. And what did I say?"
"He didn't answer my question. Instead, he said: For you, I'm available any hour" you answer.
Your parents laugh, but Joel remains quiet. You wonder what he's thinking.
"You know" looking at Nick while cutting the steamed vegetables a little too agressive, "y/n actually hates parties"
"Joel" you warn through gritted teeth.
"Really? I didn't know that!" Nick seems so genuine, Joel can't help but hate him. He looks at you, concerned "You didn't tell me"
You can't believe he would rat you out like that. The appropiate word isn't hate, and you don't know how to describe it, but parties aren't really your environment; if you can, you'd choose to be anywhere else.
He'll pay for that.
"Joel" you seethe, an ugly smile painted in your features, "did you know Nick knows how to fish?"
It's a direct jab at him. He feels stupid for letting you get to him. The inferiority complex towards some random guy he just met, years younger, is actually laughable.
"I like-" Nick wants to add on that.
"Well" Joel interrupts, looking at you. "You never taught me like ya' were s'pposed to"
"You never cared to learn" you reply, acidic.
He sips his drink, trying to hide the smirk that's formed on his lips. You can't shut up, and he loves you've stayed the same.
"That means I've got some classes to take" Joel leans back on his chair, relaxed like he's won this round. "Just tell me when"
The tension cuts like the storm that's just formed outside.
"You should stay over, Joel" your dad offers when he takes a peak at the climate, "it's too dangerous outside"
Joel seems indestructible, like not even a snow blizzard could pierce through the rough old man. But he agrees, much to your dismay.
It's probably midnight already, and all you've done is toss around the bed. Nick peacefully snores next to you, and you envy how easily he falls asleep. You've always find it hard to sleep, the nighttime plagued with too many loud thoughts that fill the silence.
You get up carefully, heading downstairs for some water. You sip with tranquility when a noise jolts you from your sit.
The wooden floor creaks, making you aware you're not alone anymore.
"Can't sleep?"
You don't answer, seeing his sturdy figure emerge from the shadows until the dim moonlight shines over his aging features. Silence settles in. Outside, the wind howls, bumping against the windows with violence, like your heart does now against your chest.
"Not much of a talker, are you?"
"There's nothing to talk" cuts your response through the thick tension, the air suddenly suffocating.
You take another sip, but the tremble of your hand doesn't go unnoticed by Miller.
"Right" Joel sits next to you, on the kitchen island. "Won't even look at me, sugar? You've got eyes" his voice drops, "use 'em"
"What are you doing, Joel?" you ask looking at him, tears threatening to spill, making your bright eyes shimmer with pain.
He gets up abruptly, like he's woken up from a trance. He's seen his own pain on your eyes, and he hates it.
"Joel?" you ask again, demanding but softly.
He can't answer. Instead, he leaves.
"Goodnight, y/n" voice raw, many emotions boiling, hidden on the inside. It hurts.
If you hadn't changed, Joel too stayed the same.
A goddamn coward.
Two days have passed since, and now it's Christmas Eve.
You kneel, putting the presents under the tree. Normally, your parents would have much more people around for the holidays, but thanks to the storm, it's just them, Nick, Joel and you.
"I'm gonna miss Mrs. Stone's cookies" you pout, "I wish she could be here"
"It's a big loss for tonight" your dad sighs. "Next time, yeah? Christmas will come again faster than you think"
You nod, still absent as he walks away.
"Hey" Joel pops up behind, seemingly from nowhere.
"Hey" you reply, voice laced with tiredness just at the sight of him. How will you manage to survive until New Year's? You have no idea, the task harder if he's staying in the same house as you are.
"Put this in there, will ya'?"
He hands you a box, neatly wrapped up. What stands out the most is the silver bow on top. Your stomach drops: it's your favorite color.
"Y-yeah" you stammer. When the present falls in your hands, you notice it looks like Joel did it himself.
"Didn't know you were capable of nice things" you whisper. There's no anger in your voice, only loss.
"I'm trying" is what he says, before leaving you alone. Until then, you realize he had been touching you, the skin where his hand was on your shoulder burning.
Dinner goes by swiftly, conversation flowing easily courtesy of Nick and your father, who both have in common the love for talking. It may be your brain messing with you, but his eyes never leave you, fixated on your every move, savoring when your lips open and take a bite; when you lick them afterwards, salt in your mouth he'd love to take off in a movement of his tongue. The ghost of your lips haunts him, cruelly playing with his yearning now that he's got you across the table. It's a few centimeters, really, but it feels like you're miles away: and it's his fault. You're no longer his, and he's reminded of it every time your boyfriend kisses what he once had.
Now it's time to open the presents, and you excitedly raise your hand to go first.
"Alright, sweetheart. You know I can't deny you anything" your father beams, "go ahead. Choose any present you'd like to open first"
Joel's eyes are on you, and you know he's desperately waiting for you to open his first. Maybe partly in courage, maybe partly in fear, but you choose Nick's first: something safe to start with.
"That's mine!" he chirps, and Joel mockingly imitates his kid-like joy under his breath.
You unwrap the present, finding a small box inside.
"Please, don't be another box" you joke, and he laughs.
"You think that low of me? Please"
You keep unwrapping and find a bag. The bag has a small tag that reads: Gotcha.
"Nick! God, you're so corny" you tease as you open the bag. Inside, there's a velvet box, and by the looks of it, you can tell it's jewelry. You gasp, pulling out a silver charm tied to a silver thin chain: it's a marlin fish. "Nick..."
"I know. Marlin isn't your favorite fish, but that's all I could find" you get up, wrapping him on a tight hug. Aware you've got an audience, he leans and whispers "I knew fishing was special to you, because of your dad and childhood. Maybe now" he takes it from your hands, carefully putting it around your neck, "it can also be our special thing"
Joel sees the scene unfold in front of him, his grip tight on the cloth of his jeans until it's white. His jaw clenches at the affection display; all he sees is red.
"What about that one?" your mom points out Joel's present. A pit of nerves forms in your stomach. "I don't remember seeing it there"
Before you can grab it, your dad moves faster, examining the box on his hands.
"It's Joel's" he makes a pause, "for y/n"
You pretend to be shocked, and you can tell Nick tenses at your side.
"You didn't tell me you were close"
"Used to" you correct quickly, despite the knot on your throat. "Not anymore"
"He still got you a present, though"
You don't get to answer because your dad leaves the box on your lap.
"Open it" it's soft but feels threathing for some reason, "I'm curious"
Joel's resting hands tremble as much as yours while you open the present. You reveal the simple white box under the wrap, opening it up.
Your voice comes out shaky as you call his name. And he can see it: the muffled laughters on the shed, the warmth of the cabin's fire, the fogged up windows of his car, the bruises on your tits and that voice, so vulnerable, he can see you on his porch, saying those three words that terrified him so much, his solution was breaking your heart.
"What is it?" your dad asks.
"It's a scarf" the fabric tickles your fingers that wander through the loose strands.
You remember it all too well.
"Oh, it's vintage!" your mom comments when she sees the worn-out aspect.
But just as your affair with Joel, you keep the secret of it's real owner.
"It's perfect" you mutter, remembering better times: ones where he'd wrap the scarf colored as the leaves on the ground around your neck, covering bruises he'd just made while you joked you'd steal it, and Joel would say he'd just let you, that it looked better on you anyway.
You've forgotten the good, so used to thinking of Joel at your worst, like a punishment to endure and sink your shipwreck even deeper. You felt lost, replaying memories that seemed stuck on a loop. Since last december, all you've known is pain; creeping up through the cracks in your fleeting happiness, one you've tried to find to no avail. One day, past the curses and cries, maybe there'll be happiness. But as for now, that day seems terribly far.
As he sees your teary gaze, Joel often wonders were it went wrong. When did hurt was all you had for him in that gaze of yours he can't bare to look that long, not before he's reliving all those seasons by your side, replaying his footsteps on the snow, grass, water and fallen leaves, trying to find the one where it all went wrong. The torture he now wears like a second skin, his agony painted words addressed to the fire of a house that feels so empty and alone.
"We should continue" your dad speaks over the silence, "there are still many presents left"
The night moves slowly, and the scarf you've chosen to wear is now suffocating around your neck. But you can't take it off. This is the closest you've been to Joel on a year; it still smells like him. As the presents run out, you excuse yourself early to bed, only to wake up again in the middle of the night. You want to pee, so you exit your room and walk to the bathroom, your bare feet against the cold wood sending shivers down your spine that only seem to augment when you walk past his door, next to the bathroom. After being done, you splash some water on your face, as if that would make some sense get to you.
"What are you doing?" you ask yourself in the mirror. Your tired reflection stares back at you, in silence.
You open the door, ready to go back to bed when a hand covers your mouth and shoves you inside.
"Don't scream" your cries go muffled against his hand, the calloused digits pressing against your soft skin, "wanna wake 'em up?"
You shake your head, so he lets your mouth free.
"Joel" you call out, but he's facing the door, his back all you see. No sound can be heard, aside from his uneven breaths.
"I'm sorry" he says, and then you hear the small click of the door's lock.
"What the hell?"
This time, he faces you, but his movements are so quick you don't register his lips on yours until it's too late. He kisses you like a starved man who hasn't had a meal in years, eating you out while your body acts up on it's own, the urgency embarrasing even.
"No" you pull back. Your mind screams in guilt at how much you want this, and that's all you can hear aside from his ragged breaths.
"No?"
"It isn't fair"
"To lover boy out there?" he teases, "I know he ain't treating you right, or ya' wouldn't look me the way ya' do"
"Don't, Joel" your tone is icy, "Nick treats me better than you ever could"
He laughs, darkly. "You know I ain't meant that" he corners you against the sink, the material cold against your bare legs; you don't sleep with nothing but an oversized t-shirt, despite the weather.
"Riddle me this, sugar: if he treats you so well, why are you so fucking wet?"
Your heart beats so fast you fear you'll die. He gets closer, his hot breathe prickling against your ear.
"It takes a man to please a woman" he tucks a loose strand behind your ear, "and I ain't leaving my baby displeased"
His fingers pull down the panties until your clit is exposed.
"Look at 'er" he traces a teasing finger over the puffy skin, coated on your slick "missed me, didn't she? Gonna treat 'er so good, she won't ever feel lonely again"
He softly kisses your neck, the trepidation and regret tying your stomach in knots.
Joel teases your needy core with his finger.
"Tell you somethin', sugar" Joel finds it hard to hide his adoration, "I missed 'er too"
He stares into your eyes while pushing two rough fingers inside your cunt. You bite your lip, holding back your moans.
"Need summ help?" he kisses you roughly, smirking when he feels your shaky breath against his lips. He pushes them in and out faster, making your walls squeeze tightly around his fingers.
"Did he ever have you comin' this fast? I'ont think so" he whispers against your neck. You whisper his name through labored breaths, making a smug smile adorn his features. "Good girl"
He proceeds to kneel down, despite the creak of his bones. You see him leave a trail of kisses down your thighs, your legs opening wider in response. His tongue gives rapid flickers against your sensitive bud, aware of the lack of time. He slurps the pulsing cunt, his head moving back and forth while he sucks, coating his moustache on your juices. Joel goes back to the quick movements, tongue knowing your spots and twisting fingers as aid, causing your back to arch.
"Fuck" you curse as you come, gripping the sink a bit too tight.
Joel then pulls away and places his fingers coated in your arousal in his mouth and licks them. He sees the obscene display in the fogged mirror, satisfied.
"Goodnight, sugar" Joel bids goodbye like it's nothing, kissing your lips that taste like you. "Still as sweet as ever"
It's New Year's Eve.
"You're leaving?" you sound so sad, Joel can't help but scoff. In the end, he'd stayed long after the storm had passed, your father arguing holidays weren't meant to be spent alone. So he stayed.
And now, Nick is leaving.
"I'm sorry" he apologizes for the millionth time, "but granny is sick. I don't know if she'll make it another year, so say the doctors. I would love to stay, really, but I have to be with her"
You understand, having lost your grandad years ago. But that doesn't mean you're okay with it: Nick leaving means a clear path for Joel, who didn't stop with him sleeping next room, and certainly won't now, despite not having interacted with you since he ate you out on the bathroom.
He pulls you into a long hug and a kiss that doesn't feel the same anymore. "Will you be okay?"
"Yeah" you nod, "I'll miss you though"
"Well, I'll be all yours when you get back"
You smile but it doesn't reach your eyes.
"See you, y/n. I love you"
Your lips purse after you utter those three words back.
Later at night, the house is filled with guests. The lively environment is restored, and you feel less confined to Joel's claws, so many faces to speak and distract yourself with, compared to Christmas and the past couple of days. You clutch the marlin charm tightly, mind busy wandering to places it shouldn't. Joel stares at you from across the room, eyes trained on you as he sips his drink calmly, like he's won; you don't know why he's keeping score if he already knows it. You wander off to the kitchen, and Joel follows you.
"You have to stop" you speak as soon as he enters, aware he would follow you.
"I ain't do shit"
You turn around, facing him. "Bullshit, Joel"
"Tell me, what'd I do?" he comes closer, and despite your erratic heart and fear, you stay still; challenging.
"You did this, Joel" his expression falters for a second, the weight of last december's crimes dawning on him. "Don't try to make me feel guilty"
"I ain't. That wasn't your fault" he sighs, breath dragging long like a cigarrette. "But this" he motions with his hands the reduced distance, "this it is"
Your breath hitches.
"We can't keep doing this, Joel. Nick doesn't deserve it"
He pins you against the counter with force, gripping the skin of your wrists until you're sure you'll get a bruise. Joel's eyes darken at the thought of your frail and soft body under his rough figure and belly, his strength and your weakness making the job of putting you under his will, so much easier.
"Don't say his name" he whispers, his breath laced with alcohol, "he ain't here anymore. Ain't nothing to stop me now, right, sugar?" Joel purrs as he steps towards you, taking your face in his hands before starting a heated kiss, making you stumble.
This was so wrong, but it felt so right, the missing pieces falling like dominoes.
He was your pain divine: you needed his hurt to bleed and feel alive again. Maybe the red of the blood and the blue of your sadness could paint your darkest grey skies with a happiness you've craved since you lost him.
"Tell me to stop" Joel whispers, tempting like a devil as he kisses down your neck, littering it with hickeys.
"Don't"
Next thing you know, you're excusing yourself upstairs and then Joel goes missing too, both inside of your bedroom.
Your dress was the first thing to go.
"Wear it for me?" you're about to answer, lips pursing, but he cuts you off, "and don't lie, sugar. Don't get too used to the bad girl schtick"
"I only wore this dress so you could take it off"
He kisses you desperately, legs wrapped around his waist while he carries you to bed, and the memories of your first flood you as he drops you down to your back, watching the way you bounce. He has you just like he wanted: moaning his name while he leaves tender kisses on the soft bare flesh.
"Joel-" you gasp. Despite the chatter downstairs and music, you try to remain low as he wraps his lips around your nipples. He then moves to your breasts, covering them with his kisses and hickeys. He hadn't touched a woman ever since you left, the feeling of the rosy innocent skin on his rough teeth making him loose all common sense, the real thing even better than what he would try to conjure when he fucked himself in the bathroom at the memory of you.
He groans when he feels your hands roaming over his back, nails digging on the scarred skin.
"Someone's eager" he teases, seeing your damp underwear. "Is this 'cause of me?" you don't answer, too busy removing the cloth, only for his strong fingers to grab you and stop you. "Don't be shy, answer baby. We got a whole new year, yeah?"
"I need you Joel" you whine, not laughing at the joke "cut the crap"
He pushes you gently back down to the bed. "So needy sugar, want me to help ya'?"
You eagerly nod, making him laugh. But there's no mock, only love behind the sound.
"Will you let this old man take care of ya', pretty baby? Just use your words, and I'll be all y'rs"
"Do it, Joel. Just do it"
You gasp as your folds begin to be prodded open by the fat head of Joel's cock. You curse, feeling him push in just the tip, the sweet burn of your walls welcoming his size making you grab his arms that stand at the sides of your body, caging you in.
His tummy pushes against your stomach as he adjusts himself, his weight sinking your body on the creaking matress.
"'S just the tip, ready for the whole thing?"
You needed him, all of him.
"Yes, Joel. I want you" You say and he pushes in slowly, feeling his cock fill up every empty space that craved for him.
You squeeze your eyes shut as his hips roll back pulling out about halfway before rocking back in. His sloppy thrusts pick up a familiar pace that makes you moan and beg for more, head falling against the sheets as his pace speds up until he's fucking you senseless.
Joel's brain goes blank at the sight of you creaming on his dick and the obscene sounds leaving your pretty mouth. Did he really give this up? He'd definitely go back in time and slap the fuck out of his past self, because there is simply nothing better than having you under him, screaming his name like that's all you can ever say.
"Does he fuck you like this, huh?" Joel angles his hips, resuming his brutal pace. Your body jolts with each snap. "Is he enough for you?"
"Yes" his stomach drops, dark eyes now hesitant, "but he isn't you"
He pushes himself back in, your eyes fluttering shut almost immediately.
"Tell me you'll leave him, y/n. Look me in the eyes and tell me who ya' really belong to"
Your eyes snap open at the possesiveness clashed with jealousy that drips from his sweat-soaked lips.
The confession falls easily, as meant to be. "Yours, Joel. Always was and will be"
He could cum just at the sight of your loving doe eyes.
Downstairs, the countdown begins, but in your room, all you can hear are his soft groans and your pathetic whimpers, and if the people would stop shouting, you could probably hear the squelch of your dripping cunt sucking in his girth with each thrust.
After a few more erratic thrusts, you feel his warm cum fill you up. Joel was always obsessed with how his cum seeped out of you and around his cock. Without thinking, his rough fingers push deep in you, making you yelp as he makes sure he isn't wasting a drop behind.
The countdown ends, and fireworks erupt outside as your head rests on the crook of his sweat covered neck.
"I love ya', sugar" those words you thought you imagined that one time, now real, so goddamn real his voice quivers and eyes get tearful with grief, "'S okay if ya' don't say it. I just wanted you to hear 'em. 'M just tired of wastin' my time"
He wraps your lips with his with tenderness you had only dreamed of. There is still a lot to talk and heal, but this time, his arms hold you like a promise. And you let yourself believe it.
Y/n's New Years' purposes: 1. Break up with Nick 2. Try to explain this seasonal mess to mom and dad 3. At last, try to be happy
#dilfistwrites#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal x you#joel miller#joel miller tlou#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fic#joel miller smut#joel miller angst#dbf!joel miller#dbf!joel#tlou#tlou fanfiction
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Frosted Whispers.
Black Fem! Reader x Terry RichmondBillonaire! & Kelvin Harrison Jr.Billonaire!
Word Count: 3544k 😭
Warnings: +18, dirty talk, mention of burnout, praise, mention of favoritism, profanity, mention of wealth and power, fluff, soft Kelvin, soft Terry, voyeurism, toxic smut, confession, fingering, oral(male & female receiving) slight degradation, dominant duo, teasing, PWP, consensual for all parties, Kelvin and Terry are bosses but spoil the reader, unprotected sex.(wear protection)
Taglist: @megamindsecretlair @life-in-the-slut-house @liatreads @sweettea-and-honeybutter @ovohanna24 @henneseyhoe @euphorichappiness10 @mightbeher @miguelspvssy @simplyzeeka @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @uzumaki-rebellion @planetblaque @blackmoonchilee @slutsareteacherstoo @writingsbytee @nayaesworld @mymindisneverhere @sageispunk @slippinninque @babybratzmaraj @soft-persephone @keyera-jackson @amplifiedmoan @avoidthings
A/N: Happy holidays! I've been seeing these two on my timeline so much that I decided to write about these two cuties, here is a cozy, nasty Christmas gift from me to you! Enjoy! 🎄🤶 Don't forget to leave a like, comment & reblog to support, feel free to ask for a request! ❤️
Summary: You were sent to a cozy cabin Christmas retreat in the secluded Rocky Mountains picked by two of your wealthy bosses Terry and Kelvin, for a much-needed break from the hustle and bustle of your corporate lives.
————
Ding. The notification you've been waiting for since September, you grabbed your phone from the dresser and your eyes scanned the text message from Mr. Richmond or Terry as you would call him outside of the workplace.
Terry.
We are on our way to pick you up, don't forget to wear a coat since it's gonna be snowing out there.
Your phone buzzed again, you giggled at Kelvin text in the group chat called “It's Work, right?”
Kelvin.🤣💞
Don't forget to be out of that house by the time we pull up🙄
You.
You ain't my daddy Kelvin,🙄🤣
Terry.😌💞
Kel, you play too damn much.
You grinned like a Cheshire cat from Alice In Wonderland, laughing at the messages, unlocking your phone and quickly sending a text back to the attractive man who was also your boss.
You.
Okay, can't wait to see both of you! I'll be waiting impatiently 🤣
Dressed in a warm toffee-colored turtleneck sweater and black pants, matching boots, and socks adorned your feet. Your brown box braids hung to your elbows, a beanie atop your pretty head.
Full of zeal you were for a much-needed break from work, luckily you chose to work from home. It was a private cozy cabin in the Rocky Mountains with your bosses Terry and Kelvin.
You worked diligently and consistently in a successful corporate business which was an LLC, owned by Terry’s father and Kelvin’s father through inheritance, which some would call a clear, cold case of nepotism. Turns out their fathers were the best of friends.
Some would call it a white boys club at that, but it wasn't at all, it was black-owned by two black men with black business workers there. It was certified for sure.
Let’s not forget that you worked for two very handsome men, but on the outside, they were strict yet fair to their employees. Knowing when to not take shit from anyone and ready to fire the ones who were douchebags, or being inappropriate to co-workers. Prematurely erased from the planet, and unable to find another job.
The men made sure to get tested and sent you the papers to prove it that they were both clean, you did the same and let them know that you were on the pill. You were glad they did it without complaining, they wanted to be honest with you.
Other co-workers accused Terry and Kelvin of favoritism, which only involved you since you were an assistant to them both, you didn't make excuses, and you arrived at work on time, and worked nights and days.
You earned an amazing amount of pay that allowed you to get in a great house in a safe neighborhood, and books you wanted to read, places you wanted to go. It was a dream come true.
Obviously, you didn't give a damn what other people said or thought of you. You knew that you worked hard to get where you needed to be, you didn't need to prove it to anyone.
Looking in the full-length mirror, making sure you look good for you self. You sure did as always.
“Damn, I look fine as hell and I'm nervous,” you mumbled.
You caught the sound of a horn honking cutting through your thoughts, you kissed your teeth and grabbed your pink duffle bag.
Hurried your way out of your house, turned on your alarm and locked the front door with quickness.
Kelvin leaned against the luxurious black truck with a sinful grin on his face, while Terry sat behind the wheel. Leaning in the seat as his eyes flicker toward you, chuckling at your almost lateness.
“Hurry your ass up, girl! The snow is probably melting by now!” Kelvin hollered with a smirk.
You rolled your eyes playfully at them, as your movement was fast anyway, you've never been to the Rocky Mountains before, so seen that much snow.
This was your first taste of cabin living, the crisp snow crunched underneath your shoes and greeted you with the holiday season.
Normally, bosses and their employees weren't at good terms but it was different between you, Terry, and Kelvin. When they wanted to go to dinner, you agreed.
At first, it was about the benefits that came with being friends with Terry and Kelvin, but they turned out to be such sweethearts, normally some men wouldn't understand or try to get with co-workers but this was different.
“I’m coming, damn!” You yelled back, slinging your duffle bag over your shoulder.
Kelvin held out his hand like the gentleman he was, you passed your duffle bag to him. “What a perfect gentleman, thank you,” you replied, in a royalty-like tone.
He nodded and opened the door for you, in the backseat. “You’re welcome, after you, my lady,” he replied back, his tone in royalty-like.
You chuckled lightly, “Y’all are too much,” you said, shaking your head as you slid into the backseat.
The car was warm with the heat blowing at the right temperature, a stark contrast to the brisk winter air outside. Terry glanced back at you through the rearview mirror, his playful smirk softening into something more tender.
“You’re gonna love it up there, just you wait,” Terry chimed in, his voice smooth as melted chocolate.
“I’m sure I will, as long as you two don’t start acting like children,” you teased, leaning back comfortably against the plush leather seats.
Kelvin turned slightly in his seat, his dark eyes sparkling with mischief. “Who, us? Never. We’re perfect angels,” he said, feigning innocence. But you knew better.
“Right, and I’m the Queen of England,” you retorted, crossing your arms playfully.
Terry chuckled, shaking his head. “You know you love it. Besides, you’re the one who’s been working your ass off. You deserve this break.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t think it’d come with a side of y’all acting like complete goofballs,” you replied, rolling your eyes playfully.
The car came to a stop in the clear driveway, before you can reach for the door handle, Terry opened the door for and stepped out. Thanking him with a warm tone and you passed your bag to Kelvin, while you smiled at him.
The cabin was nestled at the base of a mountain, surrounded by the whispering pines dusted in white. The moment you stepped out, the air felt crisp and fresh, invigorating.
“Wow, this is beautiful,” you breathed, taking in the stunning view.
Terry stepped out beside you, his tall frame casting a long shadow. “Welcome to our little winter wonderland,” he coaxed, a proud grin spreading across his face.
Kelvin joined you, his hands thrust deep into his pockets, his playful demeanor shifting slightly, as if he was soaking in the serenity. “And we’ve got all the comforts of home. Hot cocoa, a fireplace, and—” he paused dramatically, “—a fully stocked kitchen.”
“Don’t tempt me,” you said, raising an eyebrow. “I might just make you both work.”
“Now, that’s the spirit!” Kelvin laughed, nudging you playfully. “But only if you promise not to burn anything.”
“Ha! Very funny,” you shot back. “I’m not that bad.”
Terry leaned closer, lowering his voice. “We’ll see about that. Just remember, if you burn something, you’re on dish duty.”
You laughed, the sound echoing through the quiet woods. As the three of you made your way to the cabin, a sense of warmth and comfort enveloped you. Kelvin unlocked the door and nudged it, You walked in first while Kelvin and Terry followed behind you.
Inside, the cabin was just as cozy as you imagined, the fireplace crackling and casting flickering shadows on the walls. It was breathtaking, biting down on your lip.
“Let me show you to your room,” Kelvin chimed in, his tone shifting to something softer, more sincere. “We want you to feel at home here.”
You followed him down a short hallway, feeling your pulse quicken slightly as he opened the door to a beautifully decorated room.
“Wow, this is amazing,” you exclaimed, stepping inside. The space was adorned with plush blankets and twinkling fairy lights, presents on the bed with your name on them.
“All for you,” Kelvin exclaimed, leaning against the doorframe, his gaze steady. “We wanted you to feel special.”
Your heart fluttered at his words, warmth flooding your cheeks. “You guys really didn’t have to do all this,” you said, turning to him.
“Of course we did,” Terry chimed in from behind you. “You work harder than anyone I know. You deserve it.”
You felt like a queen in a storybook, soon to be courted by two kings who wanted to give you the world that was created by only them.
You turned to him, finding his gaze sincere and deep, something settling in your chest. “Thank you. Really. This means a lot.”
“Good, now go get settled. We’ll be right out here,” Kelvin added, his voice dipped low, almost intimate.
As you closed the door, you took a deep breath, feeling the excitement and tension swirl in the air. You felt like you were on the edge of something new, something thrilling. You took off your coat and beanie, throw it in the dresser, take off your shoes and slide on some slippers.
After unpacking, you joined them in the living room, where they were both lounging on the couch watching a movie from the 2000s, a bottle of wine and glasses waiting on the coffee table.
“Join us?” Terry asked, his dark eyes inviting.
“Absolutely,” you smiled, taking a seat between them, feeling the warmth radiate from their bodies. Grabbing a champagne glass from Terry.
“You know, we’ve been talking,” Kelvin began, his voice a low rumble.
You raised an eyebrow, curious. “Oh really? What’s this about?”
Terry leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “You’ve been burning the candle at both ends. It’s about time we show you how much we value you.”
“Let me guess, it's time for me to unwrap my gifts in my room.” you teased, giggling a bit.
Terry darkly chuckled with a smirk, watching you sip from your glass. You sat in between them on the couch. Patiently waiting for what they had to say to you. “You can say that,”
“We have mustered up the courage to tell you that we both have feelings for you, if you don't feel the same way then we completely understand,” Kelvin confessed with gentleness in his time.
Obviously you liked both of them, could you be with them both without a scandal? You would have to quit your job or would they fire you? They wouldn't, A throuple would be the appropriate label.
You shook your head trying to brush off those thoughts away and enjoy this moment with them.
“I don't want to choose, I rather have both of you, Terry and Kelvin, you've been on my mind for quite some time now, but I want to keep it on the low at work, I need my job,” you confessed.
Terry and Aaron exchanged looks before nodding, “Understandable but if this ever goes out then we will protect you,” he said in a reassuring tone.
“Have you been naughty or nice this year beautiful?” Terry chimed in, his eyes roaming your body.
A smile etched on your face, placing your hand on the nape of his neck, “I think I have been good this year,”
“Can I get a kiss from my girl?”
“Your girl? You mean our girl right?”
After that, Terry kissed your lips deeply, while Kelvin slid off your sweater, he began to take off his tee shirt. Unhooking your bra and throw it across the room, your breasts poked out swiftly, he kissed your cheek as you broke the kiss with Terry, causing the male’s face to twist up.
A sinful smirk etched on Kelvin’s face, “What? You could get all the damn attention from our girl?”
“Is that a challenge I hear?” Terry asked him.
Terry slides off his sweater, unbuckling his belt and freed his dick with your hand grabbed it gently eliciting a grunt from him.
“Would you like a taste?” Terry coaxed darkly.
“Can I eat you out while you're sucking him off?” Kelvin asked, kissing your neck and sucking your skin to leave a hickey.
“Yes, please,” You replied with a seductive tone, kissing his lips twice.
You took him eagerly in your mouth, using your hand to stroke him from what you couldn't fit in your mouth, sucking him off and Kelvin took off his clothes. Rubbing your breast and pinching your nipple, “Kel…mhm..” you moaned again.
With your consent, Kelvin gently slid your purple panties from your ankles, grabbing underneath your knees and resting them on his shoulders. His lips kissing your clit sweetly eliciting muffled moans from you. You sent vibrations on Terry’s thick length, bopping your head while Kelvin’s fingers slid between your wet folds. “So fucking wet, this shit is turning you on?” he asked.
“Suck that shit baby, you're doing so well for me,” Terry groaned, pushing his hips into the warmth of your mouth. Closing his eyes to relish in every moment.
That only made Kelvin work harder with his mouth, his tongue tracing shapes on your throbbing clit and thrusting his fingers in and out of you skillfully, your essence spurting out on his wrist and moaning onto Terry’s dick. “You taste so fucking good,” Kelvin moaned onto your pussy.
On the verge of a climax, you and Terry felt the knot untighten, his warm jets of cum poured onto your tounge causing you to swallow every bit of him, pulling his dick out. “You did an amazing job,” Terry praised, You moaned loudly at Kelvin still eating you out.
Your hips rolled against his mouth, your head fell back onto the armrest. Your essence poured onto Kelvin’s mouth, swallowing every drop of you. Hand resting on the nape of his neck, “Just like that, you're both are so good to me,” you babbled softly, hearing a slurping noise from him.
Kelvin moved his head away and looked up at you with a smirk, “You deserve the better, my love,” he cooed, cupped your face and kissed you passionately yet deeply, your tongue slipped in with his. Pulling away with a soft smack.
“My turn,” Kelvin playful sang before kissing your lips sweetly.
Kelvin lifted you effortlessly and sat comfortably on the couch, your hand resting on his shoulders with his hands gripping your hips. Sliding you onto his dick gradually and filling you completely. “Damn, I'm buying an engagement ring next time,”
Your mouth parted wide, pulling him close in a tight bear hug, you kissed him sloppily, “Strange way to propose..yess,” you cried out, his hips moved yours, creating a slapping sound similar to a gunshot.
“Oh fuckkk! Kelvin!” You cried out, eyes rolling back. Hips rolling against him as your body shook with pleasure. Kelvin watched your essence pooled around his dick, he groaned out your name like a seductive song, watching you fall apart after every stroke.
He laid you down on your back and you grabbed the couch armrest for dear life, fucking you like he had something to prove, he rutted into you and Terry watched with a smirk, your reactions to Kelvin’s thrusts turned him on. “Oh yes! Shit!” you cried again, nails scratched his back eliciting a hiss from him.
Terry’s lush lips took your nipple in his mouth with genuine care, your hand rested on the nape of his neck. Your hips rolled against Kelvin’s thick dick, screaming out their names to the mountains.“T-Terry…Kelvin..baby, you make me feel so gooddddd,” you babbled, tears falling down your cheeks.
Terry’s finger rubbed your clit in circles, and you whimpered his name again. “Damn, you’re so perfect,” Kelvin groaned, his grip tightening on your hips as he thrust into you deeper, each movement sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.
Such possessive men they were, your attention and your love were their oxygen. Couldn't live without it.
Terry looked up from your breast, his dark eyes glinting with pride. “You’re taking him so well, baby. You’re such a good girl,” he praised, his voice low and sultry, sending shivers down your spine.
“Y-yes, I’m trying baby,” you stuttered out, trying to keep your composure as both men lavished you with attention.
Kelvin leaned down, his forehead resting against yours, his breath hot against your skin. “You feel so damn good wrapped around me. I could stay here forever,” he whispered, his voice thick with lust.
“Me too,” you breathed, losing yourself in the moment as you rocked your hips against his, feeling his length hit the perfect spot inside you. “Please don’t stop.”
“Never,” he replied, picking up the pace, his thrusts becoming more frantic. You could feel the tension building within you, the knot tightening in your belly as he drove you closer and closer to the edge.
Terry’s mouth moved from your nipple to your ear and cupped your breast, his hot breath sending another wave of arousal through you. “Let go for us, baby. We’re right here,” he murmured, his fingers still working expertly on your clit, teasing and coaxing you towards your release.
With a few more thrusts and Terry’s skilled fingers, you felt the world around you blur. You cried out as the pleasure peaked, your body trembling as you came undone. “I’m cumming!” you screamed, your nails digging into Kelvin’s shoulders as the waves of ecstasy washed over you.
“That’s it, baby girl. Let it all out,” Kelvin urged, his own release following closely as he buried himself deep inside you, filling you with his cum completely.
Terry’s fingers continued to work on your clit, coaxing out every last bit of pleasure until you were panting, your body still quivering from the intensity of your orgasm. “Terry…please, Kelvin!” you cried out.
As Kelvin collapsed beside you, still catching his breath, Terry leaned over to kiss you softly, his lips brushing against yours tenderly. “You did so amazing, sweetheart,” he whispered, his eyes sparkling with affection.
You felt a warmth spread through your chest at his words. “I couldn’t have done it without both of you,” you replied, a smile spreading across your face as you glanced between the two of them.
Kelvin chuckled, wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you close. “We make a pretty good team, don’t we?”
“Absolutely,” you nodded, feeling a sense of belonging and happiness you hadn’t experienced before.
“Next time, we should try the hot tub outside,” Kelvin suggested, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
“Only if you promise to keep the hot cocoa flowing,” you teased back, feeling the playful banter return.
“Deal,” Terry chimed in, his arm tightening around you, making you feel safe and cherished.
“A hot bath for our favorite girl?” Kelvin asked with a grin, picking up you in his arms, and carrying you to the bathroom. You nodded weakly.
“Make sure it's on the right temperature, nigga.” Terry shouted out, rolling his eyes. They pulled up their pants and followed behind Kelvin. Cleaning up the place immediately.
The white marble curved bath tub was filled with heat and soapy foam, you sighed in bliss. Terry passed your favorite book with a bookmark in between and kissed your forehead, “Enjoy, Empress,” he said before closing the door.
You freshened up, dried off, and applied lotion. You wore a loose t-shirt and leggings. you sauntered back into the clean living area, feeling refreshed and rejuvenated.
As you entered, you found Terry and Kelvin lounging comfortably on the couch, both looking up at you with amused expressions.
"Look who decided to grace us with her presence," Terry teased, a playful smirk on his face.
"Had to make sure I was all clean and cute for my two favorite bosses," you replied, winking at them as you sank onto the couch beside Kelvin.
"Cute is an understatement," Kelvin remarked, his gaze lingering on you with a hint of desire. "You look absolutely stunning."
"Thanks, I appreciate it,” You smiled, sitting in between them.
For the rest of the night, you cuddled close to them with warm blankets and classic Christmas movies, and hot cocoa. Treated like the queen that are you.
#black!reader#black fanfiction#aaron pierre#terry richmond#kelvin harrison jr.#rebel ridge#rebel ridge fic#kelvin harrison jr x reader#terry richmond x black reader#black writer
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⋆ Shift - Energy conversion method ⋆
This method basically materialises your DR when you divert your precious mental and spiritual energy towards it.
It's a pretty easy method and the time period might vary for different people, I don't think it should go over an hour.
First, what is energy and how can you start consciously feeling the direction of your energy.
Energy and vibrations are practically the same thing. You must have heard about it if you've dwelled into astral projection or the gateways tape, where one of it involves imagining putting away your negative emotions/energy in an energy convertor box.
Although this method doesn't rely on visualising, what we're going to achieve is to take our energy, which is characterised by strong emotions, and put it towards our DR, WRs, kind of like a vending machine, you put a coin in to get your desired product.
Think of it, at all times we are putting emotional efforts into something, e.g your CR while going through your day, you feel at all times. If we talk about shifting, we have an attachment to the practice of shifting to our affirmations, towards hope of being in your DR, one day, tonight, etc. We all do this, but to shift, we need to throw this away. By following this principle of emotional involvement, and instead directing it directly towards your Dr, reality will shift for you.
Anyways, enough rambling, let me explain the method.
Basic concept of the method- in theory.
Energy, it exists in many other forms in us. But for this method we'll be taking our emotions, feelings. Feelings which are strongest in order of time, because the reality we're in and the ones we usually shift to involve the influence of time - past, present and future.
In order of the strongest feelings, we can form a direct connection to our Drs.
Past - Nostalgia.
There's nothing stronger than nostalgia, which leaves you feeling trapped in the nicest way possible, in the middle of your memories. I still remember it, my waiting room which i based off my grandparent's house, which always gives me a strange sense of comfort and nostalgia, the sharp subcontinental sunlight which fills me with warmth makes me feel familiarity which I can't describe.
In your DR and WR there must be something which causes you to be filled with nostalgia, it's perhap a memory from your childhood, or if you go into the specifics stuff like me, like how the light from the streetlights illuminate the fog on a winter day, or if you're shifting to your WR it's a special object, a place. Don't chicken out on this one, you're a living breathing person in your Dr, who has lived there their entire life.
Present - Desire, need, passion.
In the present, the strongest you could feel is having an impulse to act passionately, associating it with your DR. You're not a robot who's stuck up on affirming, you're someone who's already in your DR, so full of life.
Future - excitement.
Your plans in your Dr fuels you with excitement. Sure, you have already assumed you're already in your Dr, but that doesn't make it any less exciting to wake up and do what you love, to see the faces of your loved ones. You feel strongly regarding your foreseeable future in your Dr.
Basic concept of the method- in practice.
You could do this at anytime, but it's best to do this when you're relaxed. Your tiredness level doesn't matter, nor does your position while laying down, it's best to just not move, but if you're not comfortable with it, you can move around but try to not focus on it, focus on what's going on in your mind, because that's what shifts you.
Close your eyes, the best thing you could start off with is light daydreaming about your DR, for better or quicker result during the whole method it's best if you think of more decision/consequences based scenarios, afterwards, or during if you're going to affirm, I'd recommend visual affirmations (go around a specific place in your DR, see affs written around in any way you could think of).
We're checking into our DR. Now you're going to tell yourself that you are present in your DR fully, physically, mentally in your 4D, so you're supposed to remind yourself that 3D follows right afterwards.
Now, we're going to do a little on our own to attract results in 3D instantly by converting our energy, and expressing our DR in emotions.
All those emotions I've mentioned before, you're supposed to practice them in order of time, time does not exist anywhere else, just in your DR.
You could this by visualising scenarios where these feelings are induced naturally, for past, you can flash nostalgic images in your mind, or by listening to nostalgic voices relating to your DR as if listening to an old tape.
For present, if you're laying next to your S/O, do you feel desire to just roll over and just hug them? Other than that, you have a need to sustain yourself, your humanely need to stretch in bed, get up to eat, look out the window into the morning sky.
For future, if you work an engaging job, you could get excited about it. Other than that, hype up your future goals, aspiration.
If you've done this by adopting the nature and characteristics of your DR self, you can shift easily. You can add a wider variety of emotion. Importantly, don't fall into any doubts about you not being there, about you still being here, if you can't get over the gut feelings or if the shifting symptoms are intensifying periodically than you can keep repeating your scenarios/words/voices which induce these emotions for you.
...
Before I fall into a deep contemplation on how I could've improved this post and my explanation I am just going to go watch dead poets society because I miss it.
...
#reality shifting#shiftblr#shifting antis dni#shifting#shifting blog#shifting motivation#shifters#shifting community#shifting stories#desired reality#shifting methods#shifting tips
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Hi! I hope you're doing well (I don't know what else to say in an ask lol).
I just finished The Shadowed Sun and I just wanted to say that I loved and greatly appreciated the way you approached grief in the novel!! I have been coping with the loss of a family member, and the Dreamblood duology has been very helpful for me in this time of upheaval. I often turn to reading for comfort--the pace at which I read during final exams is absolutely staggering--and the Dreamblood duology was just what I needed. Your works have been so impactful on my reading journey and I absolutely can't wait to finish your bibliography!!! But it'll also be bittersweet, since I'll have (for the time being) no new works of yours to read :(. I know you probably get a shit ton of asks saying the exact same thing I just said, but I wanted to show my appreciation anyways.
Also, as someone who is pursuing psychology and also wants to become a fantasy writer, I think your career path is super cool!!
Want to know a secret? I re-read my own books*, and the Dreamblood duo comforts me, too, when I'm feeling grief or processing personal traumas. I'm thrilled to know it helps others, too. Thanks!
(*Of course I do. I write them because nobody else is writing what I want to read. Also helps that I have a shitty memory and often forget details, so after a few years they feel fresh again.)
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SUMMARY - After Quidditch practice, Draco prefers to return to his beloved and spend time with her in the comfort of his private quarters rather than attending a party with his team.
AUTHORS NOTE - This is my first fic. I hope you enjoy it! Comments and reblogs are welcome!
Draco was exhausted after practice. As the captain, he decided with the team to increase the number of practices per week to prepare as best as possible for the upcoming match against their eternal rival, Gryffindor. Sweat cascaded down the Slytherin's face. All he dreamed of now was a shower and his beloved waiting for him in the prefect's quarters. Just the thought brought a wide smile to Draco's face.
He patted each team member on the back as a sign of thanks for their presence and commitment, then headed towards the castle. He hadn't gone far when his good friend Blaise Zabini appeared in his line of sight, panting as if he'd run a marathon.
"Hey, hey, where are you going?"
"To the castle?" he raised an eyebrow in a questioning gesture, as if urging his friend to spit out what he had to say and leave him alone.
"Aren't you staying for the party? Mattheo got the best juices for drinks from the kitchen! Do you know how many nights it took us to find the house-elves' stash to get our hands on these wonders!?" Before Draco could answer, Blaise was already rushing with the answer. "The answer is too many. So you can't slip away now, you'll miss all the fun."
"Sounds pretty good. You deserve great respect for your perseverance in your mission, but I have to decline the invitation. I already have other plans that can't wait any longer."
"What?!?!?! Man, don't do this to me. This is the second time you've decided that the party isn't for you. What plans are more important than your buddies, hmm?" the dark-skinned boy looked at the blond with undisguised irritation, tapping his foot impatiently.
"Y/N is waiting in my quarters. I want to spend the evening with her," Draco couldn't help but smile as he said this, and just mentioning his beloved's name made his heart beat faster. Blaise, on the other hand, looked at the blond with his mouth agape as if he were an alien.
"Man, you're ditching us, your buddies, for a girl!?"
"Yes. Is that so strange?" Draco couldn't understand his friend's exaggerated reaction.
"Yes! That's exactly the same reason Nott used to decline the invitation. You're becoming terribly boring!" The blond rolled his eyes and replied, "You're such a kid. You'll understand me and Theo when you have a girlfriend. I heard Astoria doesn't like parties." This fact effectively shut Zabini up, who was ready to retort with a sharp comeback. All he did was widen his eyes and watch his friend until he disappeared behind the castle doors leading to the dormitories.
The sight that greeted Draco as he entered his prefect's room was the best balm for his sore muscles. His beloved lay comfortably on his bed, engrossed in a book about magical creatures. Draco had bought her this book a few days ago during a trip to Hogsmeade. The image of her sparkling eyes with happiness would stay with him for the rest of his days. He loved bringing her joy with such small things. This way, he wanted to convey that he thought of her every hour of the day and night.
Draco took a breath to calm his racing heart a bit, then walked lightly towards the bed. The sound of his footsteps pulled the girl out of the fictional world. At the sight of her boyfriend, Y/N smiled brightly, causing an equally wide smile on the blond's face.
"Hey."
"Good evening, beautiful," the girl's cheeks flushed at this term. She tried to hide her embarrassment by burying her face in the book. The boy's smile widened even more. He wouldn't trade this moment for any party. He lived for these moments filled with peace and love.
Without waiting any longer, he threw himself onto the bed with a thud, causing the girl there to squeal, completely unprepared for it. Like a snake, he wrapped his beloved in a tight embrace, as if he'd been waiting for this all day.
"Draco!!! You're all sweaty and dirty with soil. You'll ruin the sheets!"
"I don't care. I've waited too long to have you in my arms. No dirt or sweat can stop me from completing this task," the boy's serious tone elicited a peal of laughter.
"Sweetheart, you need to take a shower and change."
"No."
"Draco..."
"No," the boy, to further show his protest, tightened his embrace, burying his face in the crook of her neck.
"Draco Lucius Malfoy! You are going to take a shower right now, or I'll go back to my dormitory," the blond, with obvious reluctance and a look of a beaten dog, obeyed his girlfriend's command.
When he returned to the room, refreshed and dressed in more comfortable clothes, his face still bore the look of a martyr. Y/N, familiar with his antics, smiled at him innocently and opened her arms in an inviting gesture. The boy, with undisguised joy, jumped into her arms. As soon as he settled comfortably, Y/N's hands went to his hair. Draco practically purred with pleasure as his beloved played with his hair.
"How did practice go?"
"Pretty well. We're well prepared for the upcoming match."
"I'm very glad."
"Will you come to the match?" the boy looked at her pleadingly. He knew perfectly well that when he did this, his beloved couldn't refuse him.
"Of course, darling," she kissed his forehead, receiving in return a look full of gratitude and adoration. "I heard from Pansy that the Slytherins are having a party in the main dormitory," she got only a quiet "mhmm" from the boy, so she continued. "Don't you want to go?"
"Nope."
"But why? You'd spend some time with your friends."
"I'll pass. I'd much rather spend my time with you than drinking with that idiot Zabini. You, my dearest, are my priority. I will always choose you first, no matter what I'm offered," to emphasize the seriousness of his declaration, Draco propped himself up on his hands to level his face with hers. The boy placed a gentle, deep kiss on the girl's lips, leaving her breathless. Yes, this was definitely his favorite way to spend evenings.
#draco malfoy x reader#draco malfoy fluff#draco malfoy#draco malfoy x y/n#draco x reader#slytherin boys#draco malfoy imagine
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Written for @steddieholidaydrabbles.
That's Priceless
Prompt Day 26: Hanukkah | Word Count: 442 | Rating: T | CW: None | Tags: Future Fic, Established Relationship, Chrismukkah, Gift Giving, Jewish Eddie Munson
Steve pushes the cart, and Eddie isn't paying a lot of attention. They've been at this for hours, and he's not invested in any more shopping. He's done, done. But Steve's list to buy for is longer than the list of people Eddie even likes, so here they are. Still shopping, and Eddie dropped three stores ago.
When he looks up, Steve's putting a roll of wrapping paper in the cart. It's covered with blue, white and gold graphics, very clearly for Hanukkah.
"Don't we still have some paper left?" Eddie asks. He's pretty sure they still have the roll they bought a few years ago.
"Well, yeah," Steve answers, "but everybody else gets new Christmas wrapping paper way more often because we go through more Christmas paper. I thought you might like to see something new, too."
Eddie smiles. He definitely, one hundred percent, doesn't care about what the wrapping paper looks like. But if Steve cares, he'll care, too.
"Thanks, that's nice of you," Eddie says, because it is nice, and thoughtful.
Steve Harrington is a good dude, and that's a fact that Eddie has learned over and over again during the time he's known him.
The night before Hanukkah begins, Steve hands him a box, looking giddy. Eddie pulls the top off, and there's a new menorah. It looks hand-carved, with characters that are designed and painted in a DnD theme. It's totally fun, and not at all what Eddie expected to be in the box.
"It's kosher!" Steve announces, nearly bursting at the seams, he's so excited.
Eddie picks it up, and it is. Eight candle holders in a straight line, on the same level, with the helper candle spot just a little raised. It is, in fact, kosher. Steve's been listening to him, which shouldn't surprise him at all. Steve always listens, retains information, and tucks it away for a rainy day.
"It is," Eddie says, "thanks, Steve. I love it."
"There are forty-five candles, too. Just in case one breaks or is missing a wick or something," Steve explains, and Eddie really, truly wonders who he's been talking to.
It doesn't really matter. Steve thought this through, thoroughly, just to make Eddie happy and that's priceless.
Eddie clears a space for it, and can't wait for the next night. It's his very own menorah, suited to him, just because Steve loved him enough to reach out to someone to have it made.
He's always celebrated both, and Steve has embraced that fully. There's a Christmas tree in front of the window, and now his very own menorah on the mantle.
'Tis the season. Both of them.
If you want to write your own, or go see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun! 🕎
Notes: I saw the video of the woman showing different menorahs and having the viewers guess if they were kosher or not. There was a fun dinosaur one that was, and it made think, well, there could be a DnD one for Eddie.
#steddieholidaydrabbles#prompt: hanukkah#steddie#steddie ficlet#eddie munson#steve harrington#steve x eddie#steddie fan fic#steddie fic#stranger things#thisapplepielife: short fic#thisapplepielife: steddieholidaydrabbles
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THE COUNTDOWN TO FERVOUR — gojo satoru
outline — who knew a new year’s party would have you and satoru ending the year in a more than unforgettable manner?
contains — gojo x reader, established relationship, fluff, smut, oral (blowjob), fingering, hints at top!satoru (?), a bit of plot (not that much honestly :/), let me know if i forget anything !
wc — 2.9k
a/n — my first time writing smut, i hope it's not that awkward... also sorry for any typos :>
“we don’t have to do this...” satoru says, his voice low, almost a plea. he leans back against the couch, restless gaze flickering between you and the carpet, “it's fine, really.”
no, it isn't. his pants feel way too tight, rough fabric stretching taut on his lean muscles, and not to mention the painful throbbing pulsing down his thighs makes it hard to breathe, to think but he still holds himself back — for you.
he doesn't want to lose control, doesn't want to pressure you into doing something that might be uncomfortable for you — something you might regret later on.
he swallows and puts his hands on your shoulders, pushing you back when your hands brush against his belt — your touch a bolt of electricity spreading through the nerves in his system.
satoru shakes his head, catching your hands in his, feeling you squeeze him gently, a low apology on the tip of your tongue, “it's okay, baby...”
he can't even breathe properly not when you're this close to him, your voice dripping with the same emotion that has plagued every cell of his brain, sweet floral perfume infiltrating his nostrils, travelling straight to his lower body, leaving it all tingly and almost numb, “not your fault...”
and it really isn't. no one knows how things accelerated to something like this — a situation both you and satoru don't know how to handle.
but the nagging voice in his mind tells him that it was indeed your fault.
the moment you stepped out of the door hand in hand with satoru was the moment the downfall of his self-control began.
a few hours ago, the two of you set off to a new year's party, you were oh so graciously invited to by one of your close friends. and as a respectful friend, you couldn't miss attenting, so you just had to drag satoru with you, knowing he would definitely not mind some time off from his duties.
the party was a blast. the moment you entered, everything and everyone was full of life. energy bubbling in every corner, loud music blaring from the speakers accompanies the continuous chatter of what seemed like a hundred people — all smushed together in a small beach side villa.
just your typical and boring year end get together that satoru was getting tired of fast.
though he certainly wasn't disappointed, dashing straight to the sweets and snacks counter the moment you both exchanged greetings with the host, “this tastes so so good,” he nearly moaned at the sweet and vanilla flavour bursting on his taste buds as he chewed onto the soft bread, gobbling down the entire piece of pastry in one go, “easy there toru, we still need to eat dinner.”
the massive buffet arranged for dinner was truly a sight out of this world. the numerous delicacies from around the globe decorating the long table along with the fresh and delicious aroma of the spices and the condiments heavy in the air had his mouth watering even before he made it to the first serving.
by the time dinner ended, satoru was struggling to walk with how full his belly was. gods, but he really didn’t want to say goodbye to the dishes delivered straight from the kitchens of heaven itself, “can we please ask them to pack some for us?” you only looked at him blankly before hitting him on his head, which immediately has him slapping your rear in front of everyone.
aside from catching up with your long-lost friends and co-workers, you and satoru were waiting for a year-end surprise, and here's the problem. sure, they must have served something (satoru reckons it was definitely alcohol) while both of you were lounging on the balcony outside, you must have drank maybe a couple of glasses or perhaps it was him snatching every cup from the server's tray.
though you reckon it was him, wrapping his arm around you, tracing his hand up and down your back, which lingered dangerously close to your lower body. or maybe it was the way you looked at him — hooded eyes staring at him with your plump cheeks reflecting off the red from the fairy lights, lips puckered slightly as if anticipating something — the one look he had never seen on you before. but he knows that it was your fingers curling in his collar, slotting your lips against his the moment the countdown hit zero. fireworks erupted in the background, and he swore some ignited in his chest, too.
yeah, it was definitely you blowing the fire that had begun to flicker in his body. naughty girl.
no one knows what happened after that. through hazy vision, he stirred you both out of the hordes of now drunk and wasted people, eager to get you away from any prying eyes, not wanting anyone to see you in such state. something so carnal, lecherous jumps in his heart, the heat between you surged, raw and unrelenting, leaving him trembling with the need to hold on — or to give in.
the apartment is silent except for the low humming of the heater and whirlwind of snow hitting the glass of the windows. the silence stretches between you and satoru, thick with tension neither of you knows how to break it. his hands are still on yours, holding them tight, though his grip falters when your eyes meet, “satoru... please?”
your words almost have him choking on air. his chest rises and falls with uneven breaths. he is trying to think — trying to be rational — but it doesn't help when you're thinking with something else rather than your brain. he trembles when he sees the way you're looking at him, like he's the only thing in this world.
“are you sure?” satoru croaks out, hands moving to rest on your hips, giving them a gentle squeeze. he wants to hear it properly — wants to hear you say it that you want him too as much as he wants you right now.
“yes,” your reply is instantaneous, and the flickering flame flares into something akin to a conflagration, successfully destroying what little was left of his self-control.
it's all satoru needs as he slumps back against the leather. his hand cups your cheek, softly grazing his thumb against your flushed skin before dropping down to your parted lips, pushing the limb into your mouth, “suck.”
it's not a request but an order, one that you're more than willing to abide by. you take no time in dropping to your knees, settling in between his spread legs. satoru watches with droopy eyes as your tongue peeks out, slowly tracing his skin before taking his thumb deeper. you feel so wet and so warm as he pushes on your tongue that has him wondering how good it will feel when he has your mouth wrapped around something else.
satoru pulls back his thumb, grazing against your wet lips, “go on, show me how much you want me.” his hands move up to your head, pulling your hair together and tying them in a not so clean ponytail (you wonder where he got that hair tie from), “it's all yours, baby.”
you shuffle closer towards the edge, running your hands up and down his thighs, “is it?” looking up at him with a small teasing smirk, eyelashes fluttering at his lovesick expression.
oh god, you didn't know that the blood pumping in his heart is all because of you, that all of his eyes exist with the sole purpose of seeing you — observing you, that everything which made up gojo satoru belonged to you.
satoru wants you to know the effect you had on him, wants you to know how much you got him running, “feel that?” one of his hands holds your own over the throbbing mess in his pants. it twitches to life as you rub your palm against the hardness, “it's all you baby.” and it is because no one else could have satoru moaning out loud like a fucking porn star upon the simplest of touches.
“can i...?” you whisper soflty, meeting his lustful gaze.
the meaning behind your question is not lost to him as he nods his head, eager for you to take him. he feels dizzy just by watching you open his belt, clinking sounds ringing in his ears, shooting pleasure down his body. his heart melts a little as you press a soft kiss right on the bulge in his pants.
you motion for him to lift himself, and he does so finally revealing himself, as you effortlessly slide off his pants and his boxers in one go, leaving nothing to hide his ever-growing desire for you.
he's so beautiful, standing tall and proud, tip flushed with deep red. you give it an experimental lick along the slit collecting the remnants of ooze before kissing it softly. satoru gasps above you, your name falling in a soft plea.
your kisses move across his thighs, decorating the pale milky skin with splotches of red and purple, marking him as yours. he looks so divine sitting in front of you — like a god whom you're yearning for, whose praise you want to drown yourself in.
when you fully take him in, tip hitting the end of your throat, satoru swears he sees the pearly gates looming over him, and god does he feel so close to cumming, “e-easy baby fuck, or you're gonna have m-me haa coming in no time,” his hand comes up to rest on your head, giving it a soft squeeze.
he feels you giggle around him before resuming your previous ministrations to get him closer to the sweet, sweet release. your tongue flicks around the tip, which immediately results in him clenching his thighs, a low guttural sound escaping him.
god, he sounds so hot, looks so hot— dishevelled hair with sweat beading to the tips, his ironed shirt is all crumpled with a few missing buttons giving way to his soaked chest — so masculine. a perfect picture rivalling that of a statue of some greek deity.
“just like that baby fuck!” you hum upon his praise, vibrations shooting up his spine, mingling with the tight knot forming in his abdomen, “so perfect for me, aren't y-you sweetheart?”
yes, you are. his sweet baby, his angel who is always ready to pleasure him, to put him first — your lord. nothing exists in the world right now. it's only you and him — a god and his worshipper.
all his senses are overloaded with you. all he sees is you looking so perfect under him. all he hears is the loud, wet sounds as you work your mouth down his length to his balls, sucking each one of them while fondling with the other. golden nectar seeps through the slit, coating your mouth. he feels so heavy, twitching violently with the need to cum — to paint you white with his essence.
“oh god, b-baby i'm—” satoru is so close that he can almosy taste the sweet heavenly release, and god does your mouth do wonders on him. he's panting, one hand clawing at the couch while the other holds your head in place, right where you belong.
it's so hot... you are so hot.
when you lock eyes with him, all the while he's throbbing in your mouth, satoru tips over the edge, falling straight into the ocean of unadulterated bliss. he swears he almost goes blind, his body numb with how hard he's coming down your throat. shocks and shocks of pleasure travel through his body, heart drumming against his ribcage with each wave. he grips on your head, tight not wanting to let you go.
a loud, broken whimper of your name echoes around the space as he comes down from the thrill of the earth-shattering orgasm. you suck him through it, not wanting to waste any drop of the precious liquid.
you place a final kiss right at the base, separating with wet pop, leaving behind a string of saliva connecting your parted lips with his tip that has his stomach churning again.
“how was it?” you whisper, hands still kneeding at the flesh of his thighs. satoru barely has any energy left, heaving above you, trying to form some coherent sentences, “so good baby—so good.” a blissed out expression paints his face with little sighs leaving his mouth as he thumbs again at your now wet mouth, “c'mere...”
he pulls you up by your elbows, placing you on his lap now, “so good f'me...” he presses his mouth on yours, swallowing the sudden gasp upon your surprise. the slow calculated pecks quickly turn into open-mouthed kisses, his tongue curling with yours, moaning into you as he tastes himself on you.
satoru is touchy and so clingy, groping and squeezing your flesh so hard you're sure he must be leaving marks underneath your shirt. his hands hold you tight, close to his body as if you'd disappear right before his very eyes. he separates from you, moving to suck down your neck all the way to your ear, smudging red against your soft skin.
“lay down for me, yeah?” he whispers in your ear before taking your ear lobe between his teeth, biting it softly. you hum, and he swings you around, laying you carefully on the couch, “there we go... such a pretty, baby.”
satoru's mind is reeling, unable to believe his eyes. he finally has you underneath him, flushed, embarrassed because of him — all ready for him. his fingers tug at your pants, nicely trimmed nails catching onto the hidden skin, “let's get this off...”
he helps you shimmy off your pants, along with your embarrassingly drenched underwear which he sneakily pockets somewhere you don't know, “i barely touched you there, baby...” he slides a finger up your drenched folds, spreading them apart, “god so wet, tell me who got you this wet?”
and god, he is falling in love with the way you look right now — mouth gaping trying to respond, drooling trickling from the side of your mouth — his precious angel, so so pretty.
“answer me, baby...” he leans closer to your heat, taking a strong whiff of the arousal seeping through. “it's—ahh you, all you fuck.” you whisper as his hot breath fans against your wetness.
yeah he knows it's him — the only one who got you needy like a bitch in heat, “show me how to pleasure you, yeah?” he sits up spreading your thighs wider, situating between them, wrapping your legs around his waist. you nod, holding his hand and guiding it towards the ache between your legs, “right here?”
“need your mhm,” he knows you're struggling, trying to think past the lust ridden haze in your mind, but it's just so fun, seeing you get frustrated. “my what?” his fingers circle around the pulsing nub, feather soft touch testing your limits.
you are quickly surrendering to the faint sparks of pleasure stemming from where his finger rubs you, “y-your hah fingers...please,” satoru hums as he quickly shoves one inside your weeping hole.
both of you moan out as your walls clench around the digit, slowly sucking him in deeper, “m-more please ahh,” he follows, rubbing his ring finger around your opening before it's joining his middle finger.
satoru's mind is running in circles. god, you are barely coherent with just his fingers pumping inside of you. how are you gonna take him? maybe you'll yield, pretty pussy splitting open to accomodate him, always so eager to please him — welcome him. you're gonna make him cum untouched now.
“t-toru just like that baby—oh!” satoru hums encouragingly, keeping up the pace, rubbing against the rough spot deep in your walls, “you’re gonna cum f'me?” he whispers against your lips, before pulling you into a deep and messy kiss.
he knows you're close, tell tale sings of orgasm showing up in your features. your nails graze against his nape, electricity buzzing through his undercut, “please toru—” he shushes you, his free hand holding your head against his chest, “i got you baby.”
satoru watches as you come undone in front of him, spraying all over his abdomen with a loud moan ripping from your throat. he eases you through the orgasm, placing gentle kisses on your watery eyes, a stark contrast to the relentless pace of his fingers working your walls.
he slumps against you, pulling his now absolutely sopping fingers from your gaping hole, “mhm—”
he pushes his fingers in his mouth all the while maintaing eye contact with you, heavenly exilir hydrating his parched mouth, “tastes so good fuck,” he mutters removing them before bending down to capture your lips again, letting you taste yourself.
satoru pulls away, pressing his forehead against yours. his cerulean eyes maps the route of your face, watching you as you struggle to keep your eyes open. he nuzzles his nose against yours, “come now, don't go sleeping on me...”
his weight leans on his knees as he sits up above you, fingers fiddling with his now crumpled shirt, a devious grin adoring his face, “after all, i'm not done with you just yet.”
oh, he can't wait to have you writhing, screaming in pleasure — to have you fully.
what a banger way to kick off the new year, he thinks as he pushes in you, never to leave you ever again.
#gojo x reader#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru x y/n#gojo fluff#gojo smut#gojo satoru fluff#gojo satoru smut#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk x yn#jjk fluff#jjk smut#nsft.#—my works.#happy early new year lol#<3
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The Art of a Slowburn 2.0
Twd spoilers ahead that talk more about the TWD showrunners' idea behind Richonne and comparisons with Sydney and Carmy. Spoilers for TWD but if you don't care feel free because these comparisons are something else, IMO.
Scott Gimple, the showrunner, always planned for Richonne, planting the idea when Michonne arrived in season 3. By season 4, he started dropping more obvious hints about them becoming a couple, similar to how Sydcarmy develops. He says season 4 is when he started to 'solidify' the ship.
Point 1- The writers show you these two think about each other when they're not around.
It starts in Season 4, where the writers hint at themes of growth. Hershel tells Rick that broken things can still grow, symbolizing a broken family planting the seeds for a new plant.
When Hershel says this, Michonne arrives from her road trip and gives Rick a shaver (plays later into the story)
Now Rick thinking of Michonne. In the cannon episode where they kiss in Seaon 6, it's clear that Rick is thinking of Michonne during his run. A run is when survivors take a day to find supplies for the community.
Rick is experiencing highs and lows while searching for the toothpaste that Michonne requested from him that morning. With these two ships, the emphasis is on thinking of each other, being thoughtful even when they are apart.
I figured this was the message because, in the episode where Rick and Michonne become a couple, Denise asks Rick and Daryl to get soda for her girlfriend since she mentioned it in her sleep. They're highlighting the importance of being thoughtful in relationships and paying attention to the one you love.
Richonne: The shaver and toothpaste signify that they are thinking of each other.
Sydcaarmy: The margins and the jacket say that Sydney and Carmy consider each other.
Sydcarmy: one- Marcus hints at relationships are special when they're paying attention to each other. In the same episode, we get Sydney thinking of Carmy and go out of her way to change something that's an inconvenience for Carmy. While Carmy sees the desire Sydney has for a nice Chefs jacket.
Point 2- Emphasis on the couple taking in each other's appearances
I’m still in disbelief that some people claim Richonne came out of nowhere. It seems obvious to me that Michonne has been thinking about Rick and his appearance, especially when she brought him a shaver. Then, a season later, he shaves, and they give the audience a moment to take in Rick through Michonne’s eyes.
Compare this to Sdydcarmy-Carmy, who has been checking out Sydney Adamu since he first saw her - he tells Tina she's dressed like Sydney. Buys her nice jacket, makes a sauce resembling her polka dot headscarves. Carmy looks at Sydney and considers her appearance (i think he finds her cute)
Point 2: The blocking of a wedding and the officiant.
The Bear: This reads as Richie and Natalie, who knows Carmy best, setting up the wedding for Sydney and Carmy.
The Walking Dead: Season 5(the fire is getting hot) When Rick and Michonne arrive in this new community, Deanna, the town leader, asks Rick and Michonne to be partners. Rick is the first to say let's do it. They're blocked where they're across from each other. Friends around them as they commit to a partnership.
Point 3- A person hinting at the love of their life being their best friend
TWD: In Season 6- there is a moment that solidifies Michonne's feelings for Rick. Early in the episode, a member of her community os trying to return home to his wife. He explains to Michonne that his wife was his best friend first and helped him escape a dark time in his life. As he speaks, Michonne reflects on his words, suggesting that she is thinking about her own relationship with Rick.
The Bear There are two key moments that stand out. First, there’s Claire mentioning that Fak claimed he was Carmy's best friend. Then he says no, Claire waits to hear more, and he can't answer.
Then, we have Sydney chatting with Luca, who's super curious about who she leans on besides her dad. Sydney can't answer. Sydney thinks she has no one, but as the seasons roll on, it becomes pretty clear that Carmy is actually her best friend, and she’s his too. It’s all going to get a lot louder as the story unfolds!
I'm okay/Sydcarmy checking in
Being in sync with one another. Checking in to make sure your person is okay because if you're okay I'm okay. We're part of each other. We complete each other.
Note that when Carmy is not fine, Sydney is not fine and vice versa. 2x10 when he's in that walk in, he's freaking out, and so his Sydney in her own way she's able to keep calm, but the nervousness catches up to her that Carmy left her alone They're in sync, and when they're not, the other person feels it.
I'm still with you/I won't let you
The Walking Dead: Set in season 5. Slow music plays as sunlight filters between them while Michonne promises Rick that she will be there for him, even in his darkest moments.
The Bear: Can we ever get over the table scene where Carmy promises Sydney he will be there for her in her darkest days? Being there for her is one of Carmy’s main objectives in the show.
Honary note: Before Michonne says I'm still with you she tells Rick- I believe you can find a way- scratch that- WE can find way.
While Carmy tells Sydney the moment before I won't let you. We'll work on it.
Both ships have a heavy empahsis as seasons pass on we and ours. Telling us theyre equals and its a partnership.
So do you see the slowburn? Reply, reblog, like. I love my richonne team and sydcarmy.
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"i love you just the same." her heart swells, feeling almost too large for her chest. all of it is so wonderful -- how thor looks at her, with his mouth pulled upwards and his eyes sparkling. how gently he touches her and asks to be touched in return. the solidity of his beating heart beneath her palm, sure and steady. there is nothing they can't survive together, nothing she will ever need to endure on her OWN again.
in those few moments between the lovely sentences that leave his lips, it is almost as if time slows. it's then that rey can see every beautiful moment of the life that awaits them -- the children they will have, the home they will make, the happiness they will feel. so much POTENTIAL, and she witnesses it all in the space of a breath.
"you have given me the same gift. having you by my side for all the terrible things that have happened... to say i appreciate you is an understatement. you have taken such care with my feelings. i don't know that i could ever EXPLAIN what that has meant to me. and knowing what our forever will hold means even more. i can picture all the joy that hasn't found us yet, and it's amazing."
that she even has the OPPORTUNITY to imagine it is thanks to thor, too. he has given her so much more than she could have ever asked for. rey feels her smile widen until her cheeks ache. gently, she returns his touch, ghosting her fingertips along his cheek and nudging their noses together again. "our life together is everything to me. i can't wait for the next part of it to begin. thank you for everything, thor."
she hopes he knows all the words can't convey. she hopes he knows she understands exactly how he feels -- because she feels it all, too. she hopes he knows how lucky she feels, how she will never take a moment of their time together for granted.
how it is all she's ever wanted.
despite her best efforts to stave off her exhaustion, rey can feel her eyelashes flutter again. she groans quietly, shifting to tuck her face in against her husband's neck, curving her body around his. it takes only a second for her to get so comfortable she melts into both thor and the bed, all tension leaving her limbs with a yawn. "when i wake," she says slowly, voice already thick with sleep, "remind me i have yet to KISS YOU as much as i care to. my --" eyelashes flutter, her voice momentarily trailing off. "...-- darling husband."
the flutters that accompany the featherlight touch of her hand are ones he welcomes. it has been years — they know each other as well as any two people possibly could. she has seen him at his lowest and stayed; he has seen her through her fears and tribulations. before her, with his romantic partners… the thrill, the jolt, the excitement would lessen and lessen, dulling until the moments were fleeting, rare.
after all this time, she still makes his stomach flip and twist pleasantly. often. thor savors it.
“i’ve not forgotten. we aren’t talking about me. you have done incredible things, too, my love. someone must remind you.” love overflows from him; mirroring her movement, thor gently drags the pads of his fingers down her face. from her temple to her chin and back again. “if anyone can get you to show yourself that same appreciation… it must be the most awesome and fearsome avenger.”
inching forward, thor’s gentle laughter drowns as he presses pecks to her lips. humming happily, he lingers in her space, looking between both her eyes. it bursts from him — he wonders how obvious it is. he couldn’t contain it, not for a moment, not even if he wanted to. this is, perhaps, the happiest day of his long life.
“i love you,” he returns in a murmur. “my resilient, compassionate, deadly gorgeous wife.” how his lips momentarily poke upward speaks to his teasing; exaggerated as the words are (purposely so), he means them. thor’s blinks are slow, between unabashed staring at her.
“rey…” thor sighs dreamily, his knuckles stroking her cheek. he breaks pace only to reach for her hand, bringing it slowly to his chest so she might feel the beat of his heart. seamlessly does he return to showing his affection. “i am completely enamored by you. after so much time together, after — surviving so much turmoil… you have made me feel things i didn’t think possible. i can never thank you enough for all you’ve given me. for promising forever to me.”
he tilts forward until their foreheads touch, noses brushes; he doesn’t dare to break his gaze from hers. “simply i love you isn’t enough, but… there are no words for how i feel for you. i love you is all i have to offer.”
#othunderous#( * hope is like the sun / mcu crossover )#they are sooooooooo 🥺#also yay a finished thread!
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