#I see your true colors shining through

[tamagoneko]

TRUE COLORS

[byler-alarmist]

This one is Mike @ Will

[iiryoku]

ᵀʰᵃᵗ ᶤᶠ ᴵ ᶜᵃᶰ'ᵗ ᵇᵉ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᴵ'ˡˡ ˢᵉᵗᵗˡᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍʰᵒˢᵗ ᵒᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ᴵ ᵐᶤˢˢ ʸᵒᵘ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵗʰᵃᶰ ˡᶤᶠᵉ ⁽ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵗʰᵃᶰ ˡᶤᶠᵉ⁾ ᴬᶰᵈ ᶤᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃᶰ'ᵗ ᵇᵉ ᶰᵉˣᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉ ᵞᵒᵘʳ ᵐᵉᵐᵒʳʸ ᶤˢ ᵉᶜˢᵗᵃˢʸ ᴵ ᵐᶤˢˢ ʸᵒᵘ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵗʰᵃᶰ ˡᶤᶠᵉ ᴵ ᵐᶤˢˢ ʸᵒᵘ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵗʰᵃᶰ ˡᶤᶠᵉ

[carebearbussy]

𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙙 𝙜𝙖𝙢𝙚𝙨

ᥫ᭡ 𝙨𝙮𝙥𝙣𝙤𝙥𝙨𝙞𝙨: 𝙞𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝… 𝙨𝙪𝙠𝙪𝙣𝙖𝙨 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙘𝙪𝙗𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙨 𝙢𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡 𝙞𝙣𝙨𝙚𝙘𝙪𝙧𝙚, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙨𝙪𝙠𝙪𝙣𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙨 𝙝𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙚𝙖𝙧��𝙮.

ᥫ᭡ 𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: 𝙝𝙚𝙞𝙖𝙣 𝙚𝙧𝙖! 𝙨𝙪𝙠𝙪𝙣𝙖 𝙭 𝙛𝙚𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙚! 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

ᥫ᭡ 𝙘𝙬: 𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙨𝙩, 𝙗𝙤𝙙𝙮 𝙨𝙝𝙖𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙬𝙚𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙜𝙖𝙞𝙣, 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙗𝙚𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙘𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙙 '𝙪𝙜𝙡𝙮' 𝙖𝙣𝙙 '𝙨𝙡𝙪𝙩', 𝙗𝙪𝙡𝙡𝙮𝙞𝙣𝙜.

ᥫ᭡ 𝙬𝙘: 2.7k

𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙖 𝙨𝙚𝙚 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙨 𝙢𝙮 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

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Your day went as normal as usual.

You walked with you head held high, a pep in your step as you wondered around the large estate claimed by Sukuna. Alongside you, was one of your loyal handmaids, ordered by Sukuna to accompany you by default. It was early morning, as you heard the talkative birds chirp in the crisp air. It was very relaxing, especially for you, who was often picked on by your fellow concubines, who were supposed to support you.

As you stepped onto the stone walkway that led to your beloved garden, you noticed the flowers slightly dwindling in color, as the stems had lost their pin point shape. This made you frown, as you realize you had forgot to water them recently. Your handmaiden follows behind you respectfully, as you walk through the rows of colorful flowers.

"You must really enjoy the flowers, my lady." You handmaiden pointed out, coming to that conclusion as she had watched you tend to the flowers every day without fail. It was something she admired about you greatly, that being your calm nature, even under the circumstance of Sukuna wanting you to be monitored 24/7. She felt some sort of pity, even through her love for Lord Sukuna. "Yes, I am quite fond of them. They are very beautiful, but they look very dull today..." You say through your pouting.

You walk over to the gardening table over by the end of the conservatory, as you put on your gardening gloves, as well as putting your hair in a high ponytail. Your handmaiden looks at you with her head tilted, questioning your motives. "My lady, you should not be getting your hands dirty. I suggest you stick to watering instead of doing the dirty work." She said, worried about what Lord Sukuna would think if he saw his favorite consort getting her pretty hands dirty. You look over at her while carrying a bag of soil, walking over to the start of where the flowers were.

"Its fine, really. He wont even know I was here today, hes out for a business meeting. Uraume informed me he may not return for a couple of days." You said, reassuring her, as you kneel down to tend to the garden. "Okay, if it is what you wish..." She says, looking around to see if anybody was watching. "I will just stay here and keep watch."

As you patted down the soil, you sprinkled water over the plants, the glass of the garden house letting the sunlight shine in. You looked at your work as you were halfway through, proud of the work you had so far accomplished. But as you were admiring your handiwork, you heard a group of heavy footsteps walk into the large garden house. You were not expecting anybody else to come here except for you, so who was it. Oh, of course, its them.

A group of three notorious mid ranking concubines, followed by one high ranking one. You audibly sighed, knowing what would follow suite. They laughed when they saw the sight before them. Sukuna's favorite? Doing a maids work? It was laughable to them. Was this finally the moment Lord Sukuna kicked you to the curb, and realized your true worth? That was what they hoped for in the end, but for now, they had to have their moment of joy, which was picking on you.

"My, my, my. Look at what we have here. Little Y/N is out doing the work of those lower than her? What did you do to make Lord Sukuna that upset?" The lead woman spoke, cackling along with the other girls. Your face distorted into that of annoyance. You looked at the girl straight in the eyes, preparing to attempt to defend yourself. "Why are you all here? To ridicule me? If you must know, I chose to tend to the garden."

One of the girls standing behind the lead scoffs, stepping slightly forward. Looking at your handmaids, then to you. "You really are pathetic, if you must need that woman with you at all times." She says, gesturing her hand towards your handmaiden. Your handmaiden looks away, too afraid to talk back to the likes of somebody a higher rank than her. "It would be a damn shame if you got dirt on your precious face, it's already messed up, you aren't the prettiest woman ever." Another one adds in, creating more fuel to the fire by taking a jab at your appearance.

This stroke a nerve in you, your self esteem slowly crumbling as they go on. The lead concubine takes a step closer to your kneeling form, looking down on you as if you were nobody. She crouches down to your eye level, grabbing your chin on each side with her fingers. "I really don't see what Lord Sukuna saw in you. He must not be very interested in you anymore. You are nowhere near perfect. Especially after your massive weight gain." She says, knowing the damage she is doing to you. She lets go of your chin, pushing you slightly back. "It wont be long before he gets rid of you for good, hopefully as soon as possible. We don't need an ugly duckling the likes of you waddling around the well known beauty of Lord Sukuna's estate." She says, brushing astray dirt off her kimono, as the girls behind her laugh at her words.

You feel tears forming in your eyes, as you try your best to hold them back and to not lash out at the woman, you mouth hanging agape from shock. But you are not as slick as the woman currently standing before you. She looks at you, a smirk crossing her fair face in accomplishment. "Aw, whats wrong? Are you going to cry? Your already the biggest slut in the palace, I don't need to call you more hurtful things."

And this was the last push to send you over the edge, as you felt hot tears spill from your eyes. The girls laughed louder, mocking your weak state. You panicked, as you got up, pushing the woman out fo your way as you ran out of the garden house, your gloves still on, your ponytail messy. You ran as far away from the scene as you could, as your handmaiden ran after you, pure shock in her eyes. Embarrassment crept up your spine, as you ran all the way to the opposite side of the wing of the garden, out of sight from any onlookers. How were you to face anybody?

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You lay sorrowful in your large bed, curled up into a ball as you cradled your knees. Your eyes were puffy with sorrow, as warm tears streamed down your face, all the way down to your chest. Your nose was stuffy, snot running trickling down your nose. Used tissues covered the bed like a sea, as your handmaiden handed you more. She rubbed your back, as she sat on the edge of the bed watching you.

"My lady, please don't cry." She said, worried for you and your morale. You look up at her through wet eyelashes, as you sniffled into a half dirty tissue she held up for you. "Easy for you to say, you don't know what its like to be me. It feels like every single day, the people of the estate seem to hate me even more, and I try so hard to avoid it. I just don't know how to endure it anymore." You say, your lower lip quivering.

Your handmaiden looks at you pitifully. She feels like she knows you so well. She felt like your only true friend since being welcomed into Sukuna's estate. So it hurt to see you like this, especially after witnessing the unfair treatment you had received throughout your time here. The slow hand that once rubbed your back moved up to move the loose hair from your face, letting her see your full face out on display. But instead, you cover it, by moving your head more towards the pillows, the concubines words clearly getting to your head.

But she saw right though you. "My lady, the things those girls have said are simply untrue. I'm sure they were just saying that to get a rise out of you. They want what they cannot have, especially your close relationship with Lord Sukuna." You stop into your own world and think about it. Yes sure, you knew jealousy was a big factor in their distaste in you, but then why would they say such specific things? Were you truly all of those things they said you were?

"I'm sure it stemmed from what they truly want from you. All they want are reactions like these from you-" She says, but intervened by none other than the man himself, the head of the entire estate, Sukuna, who had came home unexpectedly earlier than usual.

Your handmaiden from what seems like instinct, immediately gets up to bow, anxiety filling her system for the largely built man standing before her. "Just what the hell do you think you are doing in my quarters uninvited?" He asks, unamused by the sudden appearance by anybody other than you. He looks down at her, waiting impatiently for an answer. "My lord, I was just tending to My lady, Y/N. She seemed in distress after a sudden altercation-" Without a second thought, he pushes her out of the way with his foot. Searching for you. He hears sorrowful sniffles coming from his large bed, as he raises his eyebrow in confusion. Who is in his bed? Ahh, it you, something must have happened.

You look up slightly from the bed to be greeted by Sukuna's broad stature, as you turn away from him, not wanting to face the fact that you failed to stand up for yourself. You had always made it a point to prove that you were strong willed, but this time around, you had failed. And failure is something you had feared around the likes of Sukuna.

He walks over to the opposite side of the bed that you were on, not wanting to upset you further, knowing how you become when you are upset. You try to muffle your sniffling, but to no avail. He looks at your chest rise and fall quickly, due to the nature of your fast breathing. A loud, audible sigh is heard behind you, the sound of it making chills creep up your spine. He then looks over at the handmaiden, who is still kneeling on the floor. "Leave." He says to her, as she quickly gets up to take her leave, not stopping to say anymore goodbyes.

He then looks back at you, who is unable to turn his way. "Whats wrong brat? Are you going to explain what happened, or are you just going to lay there like a sappy little thing." He says, crawling into bed, grabbing hold of your waist. He notices you flinching, keeping it in mind that when you are sad, you become sensitive to touch. He slowly brings you into his chest, your legs straddling his lower waist. Your body shakes as you hide your face within his chest, getting his robe wet with your snot.

"Look at me." He orders you, clearly not liking the mood you are in. But you don't move. Instead, you move your head side to side, still hiding your face from sight. Your head nuzzles further into his chest, as you move your arms to either side of his waist, hugging him deeply as you inhale his scent. You feel your tears keep running, as you use his robe to wipe them. "I told you to look at me, I wont repeat myself a third time." He said, sternly informing you. You didn't want to upset him, so you slowly look up at him, barely being able to hold eye contact. His eyebrows slightly furrow, as he slightly adjusts himself on the bed.

"Christ, what happened to you woman?" He says, using his upper left hand to wipe away the tears staining your face. He brushed his thumb over your cheek, but quickly stopping realizing how intimate that was. You hesitated before you spoke. "Its just... there are these girls, and I feel like ever since you became a part of my life, I have been tormented by them." You said, the thought of them ridiculing you flooding back into your mind like a storm, causing more tears to flood your waterline. "Torment? How so?" He asks, wanting to hear more.

"Like today for example, I was just trying to tend to the garden, and they came in and- its just- its complicated." You said, not wanting to spill the full details, worried of his reaction. "What did those woman do." He said. It was more of him trying to figure out what happened, than a question towards you. But you felt your emotions run high, causing you to completely unfold before Sukuna. "They came in, and they basically told me I would never amount to anything, and how i'm ugly, and that I gained weight recently."

He looks at you, his upper lip curling into that of disgust for what he just heard. You? Ugly? Never amount to anything? Gaining weight? This was all ridiculous to him. He would never truly understand why you were upset at being called those things, but he particularly did not like the reaction you had to it. Seeing you cry, for some reason, tore on his heart strings hard. Your emotions ran through him like an electrical current. He lowered his back into the mattress, still holding you tight.

"That has to be one of the most absurd things I have heard in my years of living. You are none of those things. Why would I care about such laughable things. You're my woman, nobody else is able to judge you, except for me."

You look at him with glossy eyes, as you place your hands over his chest, which had a wet patch due to the mixture of your snot and tears. You felt your lip quiver all over again at his words, thus resting your face on one side of his chest. You let all your tears run out, as you felt yourself quietly wail at the hands of Sukuna. He placed a large hand over your back, massaging your back, soothing you simultaneously.

"Thats it, let it all out. God, you look so weak right now, its quite endearing." He says, a slight smile being hidden from your field of vision. You grip onto the ridges of his robe, using it to try to grab onto something. His lower hands grip each side of your bottom, holding you for leverage. As he massaged your back, he pet your hair with his other top hand. Your hair was always one of his favorite things about you, which is something that stuck in your head. The words of your handmaiden ran through your head as well;

'They want what they cannot have, especially your close relationship with Lord Sukuna.'

It was true after all. And you will come to realize that as time goes on. How lucky did you get to become Sukuna's most favored? Any other girl in your situation would think the same way. Especially the way he is giving you so much attention. It makes you so happy. Knowing those girls would give anything to be in your situation. You felt like a princess.

You felt yourself fall into deep slumber, the comfort of your thoughts, along with Sukuna's relaxing hold bringing you comfort in moments like these. He looks down at you as he notices you had seized your crying. He thinks about moving from his spot, but decides against it, not wanting to ruin your beauty sleep. You needed this, he thinks. And he was right. He brushes the hair that covers your ear out of the way with his hand, as he leans down to whisper into your sleeping form.

"You can trust, those woman will be dealt with accordingly."

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(𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙄 𝙢𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙖 𝙥𝙩 2?)

[perfectlyoongi]

HUSBAND!JUNGKOOK who proposed to you on vacation on the outskirts of florence. four days of beautiful scenery and incredible memories were just a cover for Jungkook's true plan: in a green field dressed in brightly colored flowers, the two of you were having a small picnic while laughter and tender words danced with the gentle breeze of the day; and when Jungkook's question flowed as naturally as any other sentence he could have said, your heart immediately accelerated, sending waves of happiness and fulfillment throughout your body. “will you marry me? make a whole life by my side? only you and me?”

HUSBAND!JUNGKOOK who insisted on throwing floating lanterns at your wedding. but Jungkook didn't want any lanterns, no; Jungkook wanted your dreams and desires for your life to be written and decorated on the light fabric of the lantern, believing that, when they reached the vast starry sky, they would be able to cling to the various stars and guard your future forever. “the celestial magic of the stars will make all our dreams come true, you’ll see.”

HUSBAND!JUNGKOOK who kisses you under the rain on bad days. it was a simple gesture, something small and quite banal, but it was something precious, an action that warmed you inside and made you feel good, made you feel alive; it was between raindrops that Jungkook declared his love for you in the form of a kiss, the lips that sang so many promises to you and shared so many dreams reminding you that in all the darkness of the world, among all the rain and grey, there was always something warm, there was always his love for you. “just to remind you that after so long, i still love you. and i will love you forever.”

HUSBAND!JUNGKOOK who wears his wedding ring like a badge of honor. Jungkook was proud to be your husband; for him, you were the only person to exist, you were the only one who really mattered because you, quite simply, were incredible in every way; so, having a token of your love, something physical that people could see, only made Jungkook's eyes shine even brighter — after all, he was eternally united to the best person that could exist. “yes, i’m married to the love of my life. isn't it incredible? i’m the luckiest man alive.”

HUSBAND!JUNGKOOK who hugs you from the back in the morning and gently kisses your neck. still infected by sleep, Jungkook walked slowly through the kitchen, his feet leaving traces of need, his small yawns looking for you lazily; Jungkook's arms would wrap around you without any difficulty, squeezing you with all the love he felt for you, letting his natural scent mix with that of breakfast; Jungkook's lips kissed your neck innocently, an invisible mark of wishes for a good day beginning another opportunity to live life. “good morning. you weren’t in bed, i thought i wouldn’t have time to say goodbye.”

HUSBAND!JUNGKOOK who takes you on long car rides at night just to decompress. with the windows open to let the night breeze flood his car, Jungkook took you to different neighborhoods and streets without any destination in mind, just the desire to bring you a little peace controlling his steering wheel; soft music was gently played in the car, while the stars of the night guided you to moments of tranquility and serenity that made you realize that it was with Jungkook that life was worth living. “the night is beautiful today. do you wanna go out? we can eat ice cream later.”

HUSBAND!JUNGKOOK who will love you forever and ever. Jungkook deeply believed that it was the universe that brought you together; it was impossible for two such deep and similar souls to meet by chance — it had to be destiny. because, for Jungkook, your souls had already been formed in ancient times, wandering through worlds and constellations in search of a way of loving deeper than the spiritual — and here you two were, extending every fragment of your passion beyond the soul. “what are the chances of feeling like we’ve loved each other forever? believe me, we are made of the same celestial dust.”

[bahablastplz]

Canvas: Hyunjin x Reader

Content: A late night with your boyfriend turns into something more as you both try something you had only talked about before; smut and fluff Warnings: p in v sex, unprotected sex, cockwarming, heavy heavy praise WC: 2500 Happy birthday Hyunjin <3

Hyunjin was painting again. 

As you roll out of bed in the middle of the night, this fact is apparent. The smell of paint wafts from the living room where he has his work space set up. A large tarp on the floor, a small easel propped up and a lamp set to illuminate his latest work. Paints lay haphazardly around him, a blend of colors and shades of hues mushed across the palette. The rest of the room was dimly lit, moonlight shimmering through the curtains and shining on your boyfriend’s face. God, he was breathtaking. One paintbrush is in his mouth and the other in his hand, gliding across the canvas. The sight makes you let out a breathy laugh. 

“Love?” He looks up at you now, watching your frame as you admire him from the wall. The lamp light reflects onto his dark-framed glasses when his gaze meets yours, and you smile at how the yellow and orange lights glow across his features. He smiles back. It’s a small gesture, and even though you’ve seen him smile hundreds of times the gesture warms your heart. 

You cross the room in your nightgown, the cold breeze from the air-conditioning causing you to curl into yourself slightly. Hyunjin beckons to the spot on the floor beside him and you take it eagerly, body curling around him and head resting on his lap. 

“Couldn’t sleep?” you ask him. He has the habit of sneaking away in the night, so as to not wake you, and painting until the sun starts to creep through the windows. It’s cathartic for him, a way for him to get away from his thoughts that trouble him in the night. In moments like this you love to watch him, how his brows furrow in concentration and his lips get caught between his teeth. Hyunjin was the most in his element when he had a canvas in front of him. 

“Mm,” he confirms. He checks his hand to make sure no paint dirties it before he rests it on your hip, drawing soothing circles on top of your nightgown. Your head nuzzles deeper into him and you breathe in his scent, letting out a content hum. 

“Did I wake you?” He asks a moment later. His hand moves effortlessly across canvas, dappling acrylic paint across a vision of flowers that was already the picture of perfection to you–but would probably take him at least a few more hours to complete. He was a perfectionist like that; he could point out every absence of color, needed highlight or small imperfection of his work that was near imperceivable to you. 

“No, the bed was just cold. I wanted to see where you were,” you hum against his skin. Your words were true, of course; because you get so hot when you sleep next to your boyfriend, the house usually stays a bit chillier but you notice his absence sometimes when he leaves the bed late at night. He now wears a dark colored hoodie that swallows his features, meant for his comfort when lounging around the house like this. His pants are also meant for lounging, the gray sweatpants soft but covered in remnants of previous art projects known lovingly as his ‘painting pants.’ 

“Do you want me to warm you up?” You nod and crawl into his lap, nuzzling your face right into the crook of his neck. He lets out a breathy laugh underneath you, arms wrapping around your frame to bring you closer as he continues to work. After a few minutes your boyfriend leans closer to the canvas, examining a piece of his work that must have not looked right to him. This action shifts your position, however, your core now pressed right against his clothed length. You tense against him and your breath hitches slightly, and you know that he’s caught on to your arousal. 

“How much longer?” You whine against him. He lets out a laugh and uses his free hand to stroke your back, long fingers moving languidly across your spine. The action is meant to soothe you but has the opposite effect, sending an electrical shock down your body and causing you to let out a small breath. 

“Why, love? Are you feeling needy for me?” You nod almost embarrassingly fast. While you love watching Hyunjin paint and could for hours, you can’t help the want that settles deep in your gut that begs for his touch, his attention, and his desire to be released toward you. 

“I was hoping to paint for a while more,” he confesses. You try not to let your disappointment show, but you let out a moan as the man’s hand finds your hips, pushing you harder against him. The friction that meets your core has you feeling more desperate and you buck into him and he’s smiling, and it infuriates you to know he’s intentionally trying to work you up. He has always loved seeing you pliant, needy and desperate for him, and you were unfortunately already in that state somehow. “Do you want to sit on my cock baby?” Your head reels back to look at him with wide eyes. “You can sit on my cock while I paint but you have to be good and promise not to move, okay?” 

You had talked with him about cock-warming before but it was never something you had actually done. Now, it must be just past 3 a.m., and you were finally turning the hypothetical into reality–it felt unreal. You let out an affirmative sound and nod your head, and he’s maneuvering your bodies to get you set up. He repositions you so that you’re on your knees above him, slightly towering over him where he sits on the floor. He’s lifting his hips up and pushing his pants down just past his thighs, releasing his cock and pumping it one, two times. He’s hard already, and you watch him in awe as he works to pleasure himself in front of you. It’s just for a second, but enough for him to have your breath come to a stop, which is exactly what he was waiting for. 

His hands find place on your waist. He’s hitching your nightgown up above your hips, leaving you bare for him. It’s no secret that sometimes you sleep without underwear on, but he smirks at you and stares in a way that leaves you feeling utterly exposed despite him having seen you like this hundreds of times. His fingers come up to your core, rubbing it and gathering your wetness to spread it around your folds. You let out a moan at the action, thankful for the contact before he’s dragging you down and placing his cock at your entrance. 

He leans back on his hands and looks up at you, waiting for you to do the rest. And so you do, piercing yourself onto him and sliding down his length, inch by inch. Hyunjin was well-endowed, so to speak, so it was never an easy fit to take him but it felt pleasurable nonetheless. Finally he is fully inside you, and your breathing and each moan is completely synced with one another. A hand comes up to bring a loose strand of hair behind your ear, and the movement is so domestic and loving that it makes your heart pang in your chest. 

“Beautiful,” is all he says. 

He brings your nightgown back down so that it covers you up, remembering your recent complaint about being cold. Your head finds its place back on his shoulder, in the crook of his neck like it’s your home. 

And, he continues painting. 

You’re not sure why you’re surprised–that’s exactly what he said he was going to do. Your boyfriend has a lot of self-control and restraint that you did not, and it was especially evident when you were intimate. While you often become wrecked from the start, he would let his pleasure build up and would reel from the delayed gratification of it all. 

Your knees find the ground and before you can help yourself, you put your weight on them. You’re propping yourself up, sliding up his length about halfway, before crashing back down. Your clit drags deliciously across his abdomen in the process, causing you to let out a heavy sigh of pleasure. You rock against him only one more time before strong hands find your shoulders, pushing you down hard. You try to bounce up again and find that you’re unable, his grip keeping you in place so firmly that you cannot budge despite your attempts. 

“Don’t,” he scolds. His words are sharp, not laced with venom but to remind you of his earlier demands. 

At this angle, his hands pushing you down causes his cock to be seated deeper inside you than before and you let out an embarrassing squeak. You feel so full, and you tell him so. 

He has an idea; he grabs you and leans forward, grabbing your legs and wrapping them around his torso. When he sits back down, you are now unable to give yourself the momentum needed to move your hips or rock against his length. You are fully seated on him and he is fully inside you, his arms wrapping around you and holding you flush against him as he continues his work. 

It’s silent, now, with the exception of your shallow and uneven breathing. You find yourself clenching against him over and over again, reeling in the sensation of him inside you. And it’s just that–you can really feel him like this, every ridge and vein, every pulse of him inside you, and it has you feeling lightheaded. 

“God, baby, you’re gushing around me,” he whispers into your hair. “Taking me so good.” His praise makes you smile and squeeze tighter around him and he groans. You feel smug to finally get him to lose his composure, but he starts spouting more praise that makes all thoughts vanish in an instant.

“So good for me, baby, you know that? Such a good pussy. You’re the love of my life, God, you were made just for me. You were made for me to love you, to hold you like this… So pretty for me. You’re all mine, meant to take my cock, yeah?” You whimper against him, the mixture of sweet nothings and sexual praise whispered to you making you feel dizzy. 

It’s several more minutes before you say something, finally coming to the conclusion that you would have to be the one to initiate it further, if he would even let you. 

“Please…” It’s all you can say at first. 

“What, love?” He teases. He knows exactly what you want. 

“Need you to move, please, Hyune… It’s too much. Need to cum,” You beg. You’re sure you sound pathetic but you can’t find it in you to care. If there’s anyone who’s not only willing but wanting to see you in your most pathetic and vulnerable states, it’s Hyunjin. 

“Poor thing, does it feel that good?” His voice asks with a small lilt in it. You’re sniffling now, embarrassed about the tears starting to spill down your cheeks but so overcome in pleasure and sensitivity; you can both feel it in the ways that you clench around him unabashedly. He brings his head back to see your face, to examine your tears. He’s seen you on the verge of tears a few times while having sex from being overwhelmed by pleasure, and though it always makes his heart tighten because he’s the one that’s doing that to you, he’s the one making you feel that good,  he knows it’s about time you’ve reached your limit. He wipes a stray tear away and you don’t even realize that he has dropped his paintbrush until he’s picking you up and bringing you over to the couch. 

He leans back, enraptured by you, and brings you in for a sweet but messy kiss. It’s open-mouthed and hot, and it feels like you’re breathing into him and filling up his lungs. Your tongues meet and you’re covered in spit, a mixture of yours and his, and suddenly his hands are on your hips and his feet are planted strongly on the ground. He doesn’t disconnect his mouth from yours as he thrusts up into you long and hard, but any coherence is long since gone and you’re not sure you’re even kissing back anymore, instead giving loud, high-pitched moans into his mouth. 

His hands move to the undersides of your thighs and he uses his strength to piston into you. In this way, you can only take what he gives but it’s more than enough, as he knows your body better than you do. 

“I’m close, love,” he confesses. He lets his head fall back onto the couch but his eyes never leave yours, drinking up your scrunched up face and open-mouthed pants. It’s no surprise that you’re both close to your arrival so soon, after sitting on him for so long your pleasure feels like it’s increased tenfold. 

“Me too,” you say, struggling to get the words out. You didn’t have to tell him, though. He could tell by the way you were starting to tighten around him. 

“Go ahead and touch your pretty clit for me, make yourself come.” You follow his command, hand snaking down to where your bodies meet. He was right, you were absolutely soaked, and you use this wetness to shakily circle around your clit. His thrusts get harder, deeper, the way they do right before he cums. Unsurprisingly, you beat him to it, clenching all over his length and throwing your head back as you release. 

He follows suit, thrusting into you a few more times before he finds his release, spilling deep inside of you. He holds you close, rutting into you now slowly and working you both through your intense orgasms. When he stills, you collapse into his arms and he holds you tight, embracing you and running a hand through your hair as he praises you. When he finally pulls you off of him you feel empty and this makes you whine. Hyunjin pulls up his sweatpants and carries you to your shared bathroom, placing you onto the sink as he runs the bath. It’s late, but you feel grimy and covered in sweat so the bath is more than welcomed. 

When you look into the mirror, you can’t help but laugh. Your nightgown is covered in paint at your hips and your waist. Though he had tried to be so careful, you suppose it was the risk that came with the reward. When Hyunjin sees the target of your laughter, he joins you and apologizes sheepishly, promising to buy you another. 

“It’s okay, this can just be my paint nightgown,” you joke. “I’ll wear it the next time we have sex while you’re painting.” He smiles at you affectionately, and when you finally get back to sleep it’s in his arms and your bed is warm again.

*** Masterlist Recs

[kairoot]

𝑴𝑶𝑶𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐂𝐊 — 西村力.

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: during the village’s annual moon festival, the moon shines big and bright. legend says that it reveals a person’s true emotions under its light and can rekindle lost feelings. when you move to the little romance village, it’s bustling with talk of the festival and a famous local painter. deciding to see what the gossip was about, you attend said moon festival. but what happens when you run into this unknown artist under the moon’s light?

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: niki x 𝑓．𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲 : fluff , s2l, soulmates (???), folklore kinda thing.. 𝗿𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗱 : no 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 : riki is kind of a loner .. ( 𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒂𝒏’𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲𝘀 ) : special thank you to nini ^^ @flwrstqr for proofreading for me, I love u ♡︎. pls leave reblogs, they are much appreciated !! ♡︎ WC: 3.3K

**

THE VILLAGE SQUARE WAS a kaleidoscope of lights, colors, and laughter. Lanterns hung from just about every surface, casting a warm, golden glow over the cobblestone streets. The air was full of sweet scents, coming from every corner of the small town.

You weaved through the large crowd, taking in all of the sights and sounds. It was beyond anything you’d ever experienced. Being a new resident to the town, you couldn’t understand what all of the excitement was about over one festival but now you felt the same way everyone else did.

Melodic strains of the village’s music played, causing people all around to dance together, not caring if they were strangers to one another. You smiled, the sight somehow bringing you joy.

After walking a few miles, an older shop catches your eye. The traditional decorations hanging outside the tiny building, with a crescent moon sketched on the wooden door. You opened it to walk in, the small bell ringing as the door moved.

You were greeted with the sharp tang of an earthy aroma of dried clay and the rich smell of more wood from the easels, frames, and shelves. The subtle hint of fresh pencil shavings, and the crisp scent of new canvases waiting to be transformed.

A few employees smiled and waved at you, their kindness making you feel welcome as you got ready to explore this new environment. The store was quiet; the only noise being a few painters conversing with one another, the low traditional music that played in the background, and pencils or paintbrushes moving against the canvases.

You walked further into the shop, wandering around the shelves to look at different tools and paintings that had been hung up on display.

You ran your hand over the wooden shelf, another crescent moon etched into the dark surface.

This town is serious about the moon, you thought.

You continued your mini journey through the aisles, amazed by some of the artistry inside of them.

But a certain painting seems to pique your interest. You let your feet guide you to the image, captivated by the delicate brushstrokes that brought the scene to life. Just as you let your fingertips graze the painting, another hand brushed against yours. Startled, you pulled your hand away at the same time as the other person’s, causing the art to fall to the ground.

“I’m sorry,” you quickly apologize to the stranger, before you both chuckle at the small incident. The stranger crouches to pick the canvas up from the ground, holding it with a firm grasp.

You look up, only to see a much taller male in front of you, dressed in all black with a paint splattered apron tied around his waist. His eyes sharp but filled with surprise as he stared back at you.

His beauty captivated you in a way. In a way where you couldn’t even find your words or perhaps even start a conversation.

You both stood silently until he sucked in a breath, hesitant on whether he wanted to say something.

“So, uh—, arts’ your thing, too?” He glanced at the painting in his hands and then back at you, a gentle smile making its way to his face.

“I guess I’ve found it kind of interesting lately,” you beamed, feeling a bit more at ease. “What about you?”

“Yeah, uh, this is mine actually..” He trailed off. Your eyes widened in surprise, suddenly feeling guilty for the incident that had occurred a few minutes earlier.

“Oh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to knock it down, I was just curious, and—“

He looked down, chuckling, “It’s no problem. I was thinking of chunking it anyway.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion, “But it’s way too good for you to just throw away like that.”

He shrugged, still smiling a bit. “I don’t know.. I’m just not too fond of it.”

You tilted your head, curiosity piqued. “Why’s that? It seems really beautiful to me.”

He looked at you with a spark of enthusiasm in his eyes. “Well, if you’re interested, you can make your own. I give mini-lessons from time to time. If you’re free, I’d be happy to show you some techniques.”

A smile crept onto your face. “I’d love that.”

“I’m Riki, by the way.” He extended his larger hand.

You shook his hand, the warm and firm grip making you feel as if you had butterflies in your stomach.

“Y/n.”

The sunlight filtered gently through the shop's windows, casting a warm, inviting glow over the art supplies and canvases. You arrived at the store a bit early, your excitement barely contained. Riki was setting up a small workspace in the back corner, his movements precise and deliberate. The room was filled with the rich scents of paint and wood, a comforting backdrop for the lesson ahead.

“Hey,” Riki greeted as you walked in, his smile making your heart flutter. “Ready for your mini-lesson?”

You nodded, trying to maintain a calm exterior but feeling a tingle of nerves. “Definitely!”

Riki’s eyes sparkled with enthusiasm as he motioned for you to join him at the small table. “Alright, grab an apron and we’ll start with some basics. I’ll show you how to create depth and texture in your painting.”

You took one of the dark aprons off of the hook by the door and took a seat. Riki’s proximity made you acutely aware of his presence. He stood close enough that you could catch the faint scent of his cologne mingling with the earthy aroma of the paint. As he demonstrated the brushstrokes, his hand occasionally brushed against yours, sending a shy smile to your lips.

“Alright, so you want to use a light touch for the highlights,” Riki said, his voice warm and encouraging. He leaned in slightly to show you the technique up close, his face just inches from yours. The closeness made your cheeks warm, and you found it hard to focus on the painting as you became acutely aware of the soft sound of his breath and the gentle way he spoke.

“Like this,” he continued, guiding your hand with his own. His fingers were careful and steady, and you felt a gentle pressure as he helped you maneuver the brush. “The key is to layer the colors gradually, so it builds up the texture without looking too harsh.”

His hand lingered on yours for a moment longer than necessary, and you couldn’t help but glance up at him. Riki’s eyes were soft, and his smile was reassuring. “You’re doing great. Just remember to relax and let the brush do the work.”

You nodded, trying to steady your breath as you followed his instructions. The way he spoke to you, with such patience and attentiveness, made your heart race. Each time he leaned in to offer guidance, you felt a flutter of shyness but also an endearing sense of comfort.

Riki moved to the other side of the table, giving you space but still offering occasional tips and encouragement. “You’re really picking this up fast,” he said with genuine admiration, his voice carrying a note of pride. “You have a natural eye for detail..”

You blushed at his compliment, focusing on your painting with renewed determination. “Thanks. I’ve really enjoyed learning from you.”

He smiled warmly, his eyes reflecting a hint of something more than just professional interest. “I’ve enjoyed having you as my ‘student’.”

As the lesson continued, you found yourself growing more confident. Riki’s careful instruction and the way he interacted with you made the experience both educational and heartwarming. Every time he offered a correction or praised your work, it felt like a gentle nudge toward something greater.

By the end of the session, you were both smiling, the painting before you a testament to the techniques Riki had shared. “I think you’re ready for more advanced techniques next time,” he said, his eyes twinkling with enthusiasm. “But for now, you’ve done really great.”

You beamed, feeling a mix of accomplishment and affection for the kind-hearted teacher who had made your art journey so special. “Thank you. I can’t wait for our next lesson.”

As you packed up your things, Riki’s gaze lingered on you with a warmth that made your heart skip a beat. “I’m looking forward to it too,” he said softly. “See you soon.”

You left the shop with a smile, carrying not just the knowledge of painting but also the warmth of a shared connection.

A few days later, the festival was in full swing again, but this time it was a different night. You decided to take a quiet walk to a nearby beach, not too far from the festival setup. The moon hung low in the sky, casting its silver light over the ocean waves.

You carried with you a small set of painting materials, inspired by the techniques Riki had taught you. Setting up on the sand, you began to paint the scene before you: the moonlit waves and the gentle shimmer of the water. With each brushstroke, you used the tips he had given you, trying to capture the serene beauty of the moment.

The night was quiet, save for the soft sound of the waves and the occasional distant laughter from the festival. As you worked, you felt a sense of peace and contentment, lost in the beauty of the moment.

After a while, you sensed someone approaching. Turning slightly, you saw Riki walking towards you, his eyes bright with curiosity and admiration. He stopped a few feet away, watching you paint with a soft smile on his face.

"Hey," he greeted, his voice gentle. "I didn't expect to find you here."

You smiled back, feeling a flutter of happiness at his presence. "I needed some quiet time to practice. I’ve been kind of inspired."

Riki moved closer, sitting down next to you on the sand. His proximity was comforting, and you felt a warm sense of connection as he admired your work. "You've really captured the essence of the scene," he said, his eyes scanning your painting. "It's like seeing the world through your eyes."

His compliment made your heart swell with pride. "Thanks.. I’ve been trying to use the techniques you taught me.”

“Oh, really?” He raised an eyebrow, a playful smile on his face. “My techniques?”

You chuckled lightly, nodding, “Yes, your technique.”

You continued to paint, occasionally glancing at Riki, who watched with genuine interest.

The moonlight cast a soft glow on his features, making the moment feel even more magical. After a while, Riki spoke, his voice carrying a hint of vulnerability.

"You know, the legend of the moon... it's said to reveal the truth about one's emotions," he began, his eyes fixed on the waves. "I've always been afraid to let the moon see mine, not after what happened before."

You looked at him with curiosity. “What happened?”

He sighed softly, looking out at the ocean. “I once let the moonlight reveal my true feelings and it led to heartbreak. It was... painful.. But that’s a story for another day..”

He turned to you, his eyes sincere and vulnerable. “Somehow, being with you, I don’t feel that fear. There’s something about tonight, and about you, that makes me believe in the magic of the moon again.”

You felt a pang of sympathy and reached out, gently placing your hand on his. “Riki, you don’t have to talk about it if you’re not comfortable.”

He looked at you, his eyes filled with a mix of gratitude and vulnerability. “Thank you. It’s just... hard to think about sometimes. The pain was so real, and it made me afraid to show my true emotions again.”

You squeezed his hand gently, offering him a reassuring smile. “It’s okay. Take your time. I’m here. Though we met nights ago, I’m here.”

 Riki‘s eyes softened, and he gave you a small, appreciative smile. “You have no idea how much that means to me.”

The moon’s light bathed the beach in a gentle glow, illuminating the quiet understanding between you. Riki’s honesty and openness resonated deeply, and you felt a sense of connection that was both comforting and profound.

He shifted slightly, moving closer to you until your shoulders almost touched. The warmth of his body next to yours was a silent reassurance, a wordless promise of support. “You’re really something, you know that?” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, and you turned to look at him, finding his gaze already on you. “I could say the same about you,” you replied, feeling the intimacy of the moment deepen.

Riki’s eyes held a mixture of vulnerability and strength, a silent testament to the pain he carried and the bravery it took to admit it. He took a deep breath, his fingers brushing against yours as he spoke. “It’s just... sometimes the memories are too painful. But being here with you, it makes it a little easier to bare.”

You felt a surge of tenderness for him, your heart aching at the thought of the hurt he’d endured. “I’ll be here, whenever you’re ready.”

He nodded, his eyes glistening with unspoken emotion. “Thank you. It’s... it’s a lot, but knowing I have someone who understands means everything.”

The waves whispered their secrets to the shore, and the moon shone down, wrapping you both in its gentle embrace. The moment was filled with quiet revelations and tender support, a reminder that sometimes, the simple act of being present could be the greatest comfort of all. 

As the night continued, you returned to your painting, the brush gliding smoothly across the canvas. Riki watched you with a gentle smile, his eyes filled with admiration and something more—a tenderness that was growing stronger with each passing moment.

Unbeknownst to both of you, the moonlight was beginning to take effect, subtly enhancing the emotions between you. Every glance exchanged, every soft touch, carried a deeper meaning, an unspoken promise of what could be.

You finished your painting, setting the brush down and turning to Riki. He reached out, taking your hand in his. “Come on,” he said softly, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Let’s take a break.”

He led you to the water’s edge, where the waves gently lapped at the shore. The cool water splashed over your feet, sending a delightful shiver up your spine. Riki laughter filled the air, infectious and free, and you couldn’t help but join in.

You ran along the shoreline, the waves chasing after you, and for a moment, all your worries melted away. Riki caught up to you, grabbing your hand and spinning you around, both of you laughing as you stumbled into the shallow waves.

The moonlight danced on the water, casting a magical glow over everything. You splashed each other, the cool water mingling with the warmth of your laughter. Riki’s hand never left yours, his grip firm yet gentle, grounding you in the moment.

At one point, he pulled you close, his arms wrapping around you as the waves rolled in. The world seemed to fall away, leaving just the two of you under the moon’s tender gaze. You looked up at him, your heart swelling with an emotion you couldn’t quite name but felt deeply in your soul.

“Riki,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the sound of the ocean.

He leaned in, his forehead resting against yours. “I know,” he replied softly, his breath mingling with yours. “I feel it too.”

The moonlight seemed to intensify, casting a silver halo around you both. The moment stretched, filled with unspoken words and shared feelings. Then, with a gentle tug, Riki led you back to the shore, where you sat together, the waves gently lapping at your feet.

You rested your head on his shoulder, feeling his warmth seep into you. The night was filled with love-filled glances and quiet intimacy, a perfect blend of comfort and connection. The magic of the moon had done its work, weaving a spell of closeness that would linger long after the night had ended.

You both sat in comfortable silence for a while, the rhythmic sound of the waves providing a soothing backdrop. Riki’s fingers traced gentle patterns on your hand, his touch sending a pleasant shiver through you. He seemed lost in thought, and you didn’t want to disturb the quiet peace that had settled over you both.

But then, as if needing to break the silence, he spoke again, his voice soft and filled with emotion. “You know, sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever fully heal from what happened. It’s like a part of me is still stuck in that moment.”

You turned to him, your heart aching at the vulnerability in his eyes. “Healing takes time, Riki. And it’s okay to feel that way. Just remember, you don’t have to face it alone.”

He looked at you, his eyes searching yours. “You really mean that, don’t you?”

You nodded, squeezing his hand. “I do. Whenever you’re ready to talk about it, I’ll be here. And if you’re not ready, that’s okay too.”

Riki’s gaze softened, and he leaned in, pressing his forehead against yours. 

The intimacy of the moment deepened, the air around you thick with unspoken emotions. Riki’s fingers continued to trace gentle patterns on your hand, each touch sending a warm, tingling sensation through you. You could feel the connection between you growing stronger, the bond solidifying in a way that felt both natural and profound.

As the night wore on, the two of you shared stories, laughter, and moments of comfortable silence. You found yourself opening up to him in ways you hadn’t expected, sharing parts of yourself you usually kept hidden. Riki listened with genuine interest, his responses thoughtful and kind.

Eventually, the lure of the waves became irresistible again, and you found yourselves splashing through the shallows, once again, laughing and playing like children. Riki’s laughter was infectious, his joy a balm to your soul. You chased each other through the surf, the cool water a delightful contrast to the warmth of your growing affection.

At one point, Riki caught you around the waist, lifting you off your feet and spinning you around. You laughed, the sound pure and free, your heart swelling with happiness. He set you down gently, his arms still wrapped around you as the waves hit your ankles.

The moonlight bathed you both in its gentle glow, casting a magical light over the scene. Riki’s eyes met yours, and for a moment, it felt like the world had shrunk to just the two of you. He leaned in, his forehead resting against yours, his breath warm on your skin.

“Thank you for tonight,” he whispered, his voice filled with sincerity. “For everything.”

You smiled, your heart full. “I should be the one thanking you. This has been... amazing.”

Riki’s eyes held a promise, a silent vow of what could be. “Let’s make a pact,” he said softly. “No more hiding. From the moon, from each other, from ourselves.”

You nodded, feeling a surge of hope and determination. “Deal.”

The night continued, filled with love-filled glances, quiet intimacy, and the gentle lapping of the waves. The magic of the moon had woven a spell of connection and understanding, one that would linger long after the festival lights had faded. As the first light of dawn began to creep over the horizon, you knew that this night would be a cherished memory, a moment of pure, unadulterated connection.

And as Riki‘s hand found yours once more, you knew that even if you had met only nights before, for some reason you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him.

✩

TAGLIST: @haechansbbg @contyynishimura @sasfransisco @kgneptun @jungwonderz @enha-stars @dioll @jakesangel @cupidscourt @violetwitchmcu @haohaoshoe @randomgirl02228 @wonsdoll @powerpuffstuts @flwrstqr @elysianiki — send an ask to join.

[florencemtrash]

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Epilogue

Summary: Y/n's clairvoyance is a gift from the Mother, but it feels more like a curse. With the power to gain knowledge through touch alone, Y/n holes herself up in The Alcove and hopes her powers and parentage will remain a secret. But things will change after the Summer Solstice ball and a chance encounter with a certain Shadowsinger.

Warnings: This is the end 😭

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Masterlist

Masterlist of Masterlists

SIX YEARS LATER

While the others were busy dragging themselves out of bed in time to the Day Court’s breathings, you and Azriel were already wide awake and watching as the sun trickled down the windows and onto the floor. 

You leaned your head against his shoulder, breathing in his familiar scent. Have I changed your mind at all? 

Your mate smiled at the sound of your voice in his mind. He almost preferred it to speaking out loud where curious ears might be listening. Cassian loved to tease you about it endlessly. 

“You’re worse than Feyre and Rhys,” He would lament, “Will we ever hear your voices again?” 

Hmmmmmmmm. Azriel considered your question. I’m afraid not, my love. I shall remain a creature of the night forever, no matter if I am married and mated to you.

You wake up earlier than me most mornings. 

Just because it’s true doesn’t mean I enjoy it. 

You blew against his hair playfully and laughed when his shadows were whisked away like leaves in the wind. 

“My Lord.” The attendant curtsied. Her cream-colored robes kissed the floor as she carried your dress in her arms. Her cheeks were rosy with excitement. Eyes glittering with joy.

There were three others behind her. One male carried Azriel’s crowning suit and the two females held boxes made from pearl and gold. 

“I hope you’ve slept well. We’ve come to prepare you and Lady Y/n for today’s events. If you would so kindly follow Arryn.” 

The male bowed low in introduction, and it took all his court training to keep him from jumping back when Azriel’s shadows crawled over his shoes in curiosity. 

Azriel looked back to where you sat in front of the vanity brushing the tangles from your freshly washed hair. One small shake of your head was all he needed to see before turning to the attendants. 

“I’m afraid your services won’t be necessary,” Azriel said apologetically.

Her joyful eyes fell. She had been looking forward to helping you dress. It wasn’t every day that a Court could enjoy a formal crowning ceremony, and even rarer that a High Lord should claim his heirs with so much love. 

She didn’t protest when shadows came to carry your clothes inside, but one of the other attendants did perk up with concern to mention, “But Our Lady’s hair! Surely she will need some assistance.” She looked on hopefully, clutching her pearl box a little closer to her chest.

Azriel smiled kindly. “I’ll send for help if needed. I promise.” 

With the hope of that promise lingering in the air, the attendants bowed and departed, taking slow steps in case either you or your mate should change your minds at the last second. They were severely disappointed when you didn’t. 

Perhaps we should have let them stay. You said. Azriel carefully laid out the boxes of jewels and gold, each piece shining with the light of a hundred suns. They looked so excited. 

Azriel pressed his thumb beneath your chin, fingers ghosting over your throat as he tilted your neck back to look at him. Hazel eyes flashed in the early morning sunlight and his lips were warm against yours, sweet like honey and bergamot. 

Perhaps. Azriel hummed. But today, I want the honor of attending the Darling of Day. 

Is that what people are calling me?

I’ve heard rumors. He brushed his lips against your neck. And I have it on good authority that the rumors are true.

Shadows curled in answer to your raised eyebrow.

And attend to you he did. He braided your hair, securing the front pieces away from your face with pins made of starlight and sunbeams. His heart stuttered when he imagined how radiant you would look after your father laid a circlet of gold over your brow.

He laced up your dress, spreading kisses along the back of your neck and sending shivers down your spine. Then he knelt to the floor to clasp your white silk shoes. The drag of his fingers up your calf had you smiling as he tied the final bow.

Another time, my love. You told him, pulling Azriel up with the daintiest grip on his chin. 

He pressed a kiss to your palm and the corners of his lips pulled up in a smile. What a shame. He nipped at your fingers. I’ll hold you to that promise. 

I would expect nothing less. 

Azriel was quick to pull on his Day Court attire and refused to let you take your time with him the way he had done for you. 

You snatched the Day Court pin from the vanity before Azriel could—a circular sunbeam with a sword, pen, and iris stalk crossed in the center.

Let me do this! Just this!

Your stubbornness showed when you climbed onto the bed and did your best to hold the pin out of reach. 

I’m not about to be crowned an heir. He reminded you, holding onto your waist protectively.

But you will be beside me when it happens. You must look presentable. 

Don’t I always, my love?

Careful. You’re beginning to sound like Rhysand. 

He lifted you up and off the bed with ease. Carefully, reverently, you pinned the gold piece to his coat. Just above his heart. 

He liked to pretend things like this didn’t affect him, but he was grinning like a fool as he finished buttoning the sleeves of his coat. Black velvet lined with gold and silver cut out his strong silhouette. And after little persuasion, he let you crawl into his lap and paint the corners of his eyes with gold and black. 

“Y/n!” Elain called your name from down the hall. Pale gold sleeves bubbled off her shoulders, light and airy as she hugged you close. “Oh you look lovely.” 

“As do you. Not that that’s anything new.” 

She brightened faster than a flower in spring. Lucien wrapped his arm tightly around Elain’s waist, ring flashing on his finger. 

“We thought you’d never arrive.” Lucien said. Folds of pale-golden fabric lay draped across his chest. A pattern of Spring and Autumn leaves trailed along the selvage. “Were you preoccupied?” 

“Oh hush.” You slapped your brother’s arm. 

You and Azriel were the darker mirrors of Elain and Lucien as you lined up beside one another behind the gilded doors. On the other side were hundreds of the Day Court’s most prestigious families, scholars, and courtiers, and the odd High Lord or two. 

Helion’s voice cut through the chatter, laughter ringing through every word.

“Are you ready?” Lucien asked from your left. You took your brother’s arm, some of Azriel’s shadows winding down your hand like jewels. 

“As ready as I’ll ever be. And you?”

“I am. I’m ready.” He squared his shoulders back. This was it. For the first time in decades, he would be a recognized member of his family — his true family. He would wander no more. “Thank you, Y/n. For everything.” 

The trumpets began to blare. The crowd’s talk dimmed to a low, excited murmur. Years ago, the sound of so many people would have sent shivers crawling down your spine like spider legs. 

No more.

Azriel slipped his hand into yours and squeezed once, twice, before the doors opened and the crowd burst apart like fireworks at the sight of the new heirs of Day.

The crown did not lay heavy against Lucien’s brow as he charmed courtiers with an energy that had everyone wondering how they could have missed the truth about Helion’s son. He was everything a High Lord’s son should be—polite, kind, and charming to an almost lethal degree. He took after his father in his mannerisms… mannerisms Helion had been stripped of the moment Aurora Vanserra walked into the room on her eldest son’s arm. 

You shot Lucien a look, and a look was all he needed before he was steering Helion towards the scarlet-crowned pair. 

“Lucien!” Helion pulled back in alarm. 

“Shhhhhh.” 

“Y/n—” Your father looked to you for aid, eyes wider than a deer at the wrong end of an arrow. 

You and Azriel waved him goodbye.

Helion’s stomach was a lead weight dragging behind him as he crossed the marble dance floor. 

Aurora Vanserra flickered like candlelight behind a window. Something for Helion to gaze upon but never touch. Something to love from a safe distance so he could never snuff out that previous light. 

Red hair cascaded down her back in braids laced with gold and emeralds. When she turned around and looked upon the face of her lover, Helion felt a familiar fist around his heart squeeze a little tighter. Mercifully, she looked just as flustered to see him. Although she looked a great deal more graceful when hiding her emotions. She’d always been good at that. 

“Helion.” His name was a breath from her lungs. 

“Aurora. Hi.” 

Helion had hoped the years might fall away. That the walls they’d both placed around themselves as protection might shatter at the gentlest tapping of his fingers. Alas, time was more stubborn than that and it would not break. But that did not mean it would not bend. 

You, Lucien, and Eris both watched carefully from your corners of the room as Helion quietly took Aurora out onto the balcony for some peace and quiet. 

Lucien worried that he’d made a grave error. Some miscalculation of hope. But then he saw his mother smile — the first true smile he’d seen in years — and suddenly the weight around his shoulders seemed to shrink. 

Helion and Aurora Vanserra stayed on the balcony all night, hands dancing closer and closer together but never quite touching. Lucien and Elain made their rounds through the crowds, feeling at ease at each other’s sides as they kissed cheeks and sprinkled hope throughout the Day Court.

And there, tucked away into the little alcove just left of the quartet’s humble stage, stood a Shadowsinger and Inkbird resplendent in black and gold. Heads bowed together. Hands touching. And smiles on their lips as they spoke without a whisper of sound between them. 

<- Previous Chapter

______________

Author's Note:

WE ARE DONNEEEEEE!!!! Don't mind me while I go cry in the corner now. Final word count was over 130K which is the most intensive writing project I've ever worked on AND COMPLETED!

I truly cannot thank you all enough for reading this story. Whether you were there from its very beginnings in December of 2023 or whether you stumbled upon this story more recently and got to binge read it all at once, I want to thank the writing/reading community for inspiring me to continue. There were multiple instances where I had to take short and long writing breaks and worried I had lost my passion, but seeing your comments and inbox messages or even seeing your little handles pop up in my activities section was a little extra gas poured into my tank so I could keep on going.

I think I'm going to take a little bit of time off (but this time it's planned lol) to get back into reading and to work on other writing projects (and also finally upload stuff to AO3 like I've been meaning to for the past month). So, I will be back soon with more writing stuff (but also don't worry I am always lurking on this app in some way shape or form).

Thank you all once again! Now that this is finished, I would appreciate reblogs so people know it's finished and ready to read, but also no pressure at all! 😊

Love,

Florence Byrne

[astrasng]

Forbidden fruit - J.WY

pairing:idol!wooyoung x female!reader

MDNI!

summary: you think a one night stand with your best friend's brother doesn't lead you to anything.

warnings: pure smut and no other warnings

author's note: this is pure fiction, the act in this story is by my imagination and not based off any true events. please do not copy the work.

enjoy!<3

Your best friend since middle school always invites you for family gatherings, birthdays, holidays because she knows what you’ve been through. Your family is fucked up, and when it’s finally summer time, her whole family is there for you to cheer you up to prevent sadness. When it's that time in the year, everyone is traveling home to the Jung house to celebrate.The whole family. The parents are not working, your best friend and you left the dorms and Wooyoung takes a break from being an idol.It’s been difficult for him to finally take off some free time and visit the family house, but now it was the time for that. He loves having you around, because he knows how much you mean to his sister. And that’s what is most important to him.

So for the sake of habit, it's summertime and it's your birthday today. And where else should you be, if not in their house?

The sun is shining, the leaves are beautiful green matching the grass, loud but not too loud music in the background as you watch your friend jump in their big outdoor pool. 

Honestly? It almost felt like you were one of them, but you can't think that. It's not something you can allow yourself after the thing you did with an idol in the family, with Jung Wooyoung.You want to feel ashamed, being guilty because for god's sake it's your best friend's brother. You would've got together with anyone else because there are other guys who want you, and Wooyoung knows that too. He feels jealous, possessive even, just thinking about it. He should focus on his idol duties and you should study to get a diploma.

But forbidden fruit is the sweetest they say, and you two can't stay away from each other since that night, however you try. That night, that happened almost a year ago now and you two tried to move on. And successfully Wooyoung did move on, or so you thought by looking at him. Whenever he had a spare time he wanted to do something about the fact that he had the best fuck in his life with his little sisters best friend. So he had hookups just to forget you, and when you noticed that, you understood what he meant by that. However, a little voice in your head said you should talk to him about it because sure as hell, you were not the only one still feeling something. The tension between you two always has been intense until it snapped.

This is what happened today too. 

You, sitting and sipping on your bottled cocktail in the perfect weather, getting a little color on your skin while waiting for your friend with more alcohol to bring. But of course you expected Wooyoung showing up some time rudely,interrupting your little alone time in the backyard with an all knowing smirk. He was wearing nothing more than swim trunks and his usual black sunglasses covering his eyes. You look at him with an arched brow and he only shakes his head. You knew exactly what he was thinking, after all this time. To be honest, it was a long time ago since the two of you met, but you still wanted to talk to him desperately.

“What?” You ask suddenly when you can still feel his stare on you. 

“You changed.” He leans back on his back and puts his arms behind his head. You furrow your eyebrows not understanding what he means by that. “I mean, when I last saw you, you looked different. Not saying it's a bad thing.” 

“Glad to see you too.” You mumble under your nose while watching his muscles flex. How is he doing that? It's like he's even bigger now than last year. He turns his head to you suddenly, catching you staring. His smirk is even bigger now and you're blushing like crazy. His hair got longer too, now all black from the blonde and black combo from last year. You never dared to tell him, but you liked his longer hair better. 

“Don't look at me like that. I heard you have a girlfriend.” You force the words out of your mouth. You really did hear that a while ago, and because you're curious (absolutely not jealous) about her, and you want to change the subject quickly before he asks or says something about how you're blushing, you end up asking this. What an ass question. 

He chuckles deeply and looks up at the bright sky. “Why are you asking? Still not over me?” 

You did wrong by asking this question. You sigh calmly and drink the rest of your drink before answering. “Please. How do you know I don’t have someone?” With a satisfied smile you lean back on your back and close your eyes. You have too much pride in you to let his cocky behavior win this time. He may have won you over last year by his smooth talk, but you changed, as he said. You learned the lesson. 

“Do you have anyone?” He looks curious, one brow arched at you.

“Maybe.” You shrug your shoulders, practically feeling his burning gaze on your body.

“You're bluffing.You don't.” He sounds tense, like he’s trying to get you to speak the truth. And you really don’t like that.

“How do you know? You said I changed..” 

In the next minute, you feel the sun getting blocked from above, so naturally, you open your eyes just to see Wooyoung standing above you, his arms appearing on both sides of your head out of the blue. “Because sweetheart,I saw how you clenched your thighs together the minute I stepped out of the house.” He breathes, his shirtless body closer to yours now, making you slightly let your guard down. You feel your skin heat up from his comment, every word dripping with lust as he scans your body from above. “And don’t think I would let you have anyone else other than me.” He adds, the smirk on his face showing his pearly white tooth. 

Before you could cut him off and brainwash him about being absolutely delusional, your best friend jumps out of nowhere into the garden, holding two cocktails in her hand. 

“Woo! You're home!!” She jumps on his brother after putting down the said liquids, hugging him tightly while Wooyoung’s groaning from the lack of air.

“Yeah, glad to be back..” He groans when she lets him go finally,patting his shoulders affectionately. You always adored the way they loved each other, no matter how old they were. You often catch yourself looking at Wooyoung playing with his youngest brother, sometimes even smiling at the both as they fight over something silly. In those times, you want to punch yourself. 

“Have you wished a happy birthday to Y/N??” She snaps her head at you quickly and then back to his.Your friend thought you two were the only one being close in the family, but if only she knew his brother was the first one wishing you a happy birthday at midnight.

He straightens up, seeing his sister still rambling about how excited she was to be finally home with everyone.So as she was distracted, he swept her in his arms and with one swing he threw her in the water. Then slowly he looks back at you, pushing his sunglasses to the tip of his nose to see you properly. “You're not swimming,birthday girl?” He asks with a grin. You wanted to slap the smile off his face, still knowing that you couldn’t do it, even if you tried. So instead,you stand up slowly, still holding eye contact. You take your shirt and jeans short off and now you're standing in a black bikini in front of him. Wooyoung can’t help but scan you up and down slowly, pushing his glasses back. 

“If you’re done staring, join us.” With a wink, you jump into the pool, the water cooling your overheated body, the waves closing above you and leaving you in your little world with your thoughts. Everytime you’re invited to their house, you feel the most welcomed. So naturally, you feel a little vulnerable still being at their place after such a long time. Getting close to everyone in the family, practically being a Jung at this point. All these actions got you into a big problem that you caused yourself. Hooking up with Wooyoung. 

You don’t exactly remember what went wrong in your head, how you got yourself into that position that your body was all over Wooyoung’s. Maybe it was that he just got back from tour, and he was staying only a few days. The tension in his body was unmatched, it was like his whole body radiated the tension off, and for some reason, you were there to catch it all. Since then, you both knew it’s more than just being family friends. It was everything, but that.

“You okay?” Suddenly, your best friend pulls you up from the water, looking worriedly at your confused gaze. You try to swipe the hair of your vision, seeing her standing with a trembling body in front of you. “You were under the water for quite some time, I thought you needed help.” She sighs, standing from one to the other. 

“I’m okay, but are you? Your lips are all purple.” I notice the way her lips are trembling too, her body covered in goosebumps. She shakes her head and groans, turning around. 

“It’s too cold for me! I’m gonna go inside, help the others with dinner.” She says, already climbing out of the pool, wrapping a towel around her body. “Stay with Woo, if you want to. Join us later, you guys just arrived, so relax.” She adds, and then leaves you in the pool within a second. It’s true that you arrived only an hour ago, driving all the way here from the city with a tired brain and back, so to be honest, it feels a little bit too good not helping the others this time. 

You scan the backyard confusedly, not seeing Wooyoung anymore as his sister said.

“What?” You breathe out, your eyebrows furrowed together as you notice two hands snaking up the side of you. “No…” As quickly as the word passes your lips, you get pulled under the water.With a yelp,you open your eyes and see a blurry figure swimming towards you. Out of pure instinct,you’re trying to swim away to the other side of the pool, but he catches your thighs and pulls you back towards them. You yelp again and bubbles float out of your mouth but you quickly shut it before you drown from lack of oxygen.Two hands appear on either side of your hip,gripping it softly. You both go up, trying to get access to oxygen as you hear him laughing while brushing his wet hair out of his face.

“It’s not funny! I almost choked on the water.” You splash some water on Wooyoung to get him to stop laughing at you, you’re patience with him running short by the time. Your hair gets in your vision again, making you slowly get annoyed as you spend more and more time in the pool.

Slowly,the same hands stroke your hair out of your face,making you finally see as he’s lifting your chin up. As you finally open your eyes, you see Woyoung’s brown eyes staring down at you with desire in them. It makes your stomach flip, but at the same time you are anxious about anyone seeing you two. Your eyes snap back to Wooyoung’s again, seeing water droplets falling down from his slicked black hair and from his honey colored skin, mesmerizing you by his visuals. You notice his plump lips being all moisturized from the water, his beauty mark decorating his perfect lips. 

“You’re okay, pretty girl?” He asks softly, his previous cocky behavior nowhere to be seen. Before you could drown yourself more in his beauty, you shake yourself a little and splash his face again, swimming further away from him. “Don’t do that ever again.” You warn him, looking back at him when you finally touch the shallow part of the pool, sitting down at the stairs. He laughs slightly, swiping the water out of his face once again, getting his body fully in the water again. 

“I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t know you’d get so sensitive about it.” He says, his eyes glued on you. With a shrug, you look away from him, not answering. You try to take your mind off from thinking about his hands literally touching your waist just a second ago. How you missed his hands on you. 

“What are you thinking about so much?" He asks, curiosity sitting in his voice as he tilts his head to the side.

You look at him again, a thousand questions floating in your mind. Should you question him about how his life is going? “Do you really wanna know?”  You ask while arching your brow up. He nods immediately with lustful eyes.

With a sigh, you lean back on your elbows. “Is it true?” As the question passes your lips, you don’t dare looking at him, but rather at the sky above you. The sun is getting low, the patio lights are yellowish and the pool lights just turned on. A minute passes before Wooyoung answers. “True what?” His voice is closer now, but you keep looking up.

You try to keep your guard up, even though you feel his body getting closer to you, the water moving around you slightly. “That you have a girlfriend now.” 

As you say the words, Wooyoung quickly grabs your waist, pulling your body closer to his, making your eyes snap open to land on his perfectly sculptured face. He looks deeply into your eyes, now all playfulness is gone from them. “Does it matter?” Wooyoung eyes lock on your lips as he murmured. The feeling of his gaze on your lips just confirmed the intimate moment you two have. So without another thought,you put your hands on his waist under the water where no one can see it. 

“It does. It matters to me.” The hands on your hips are gripping tighter, and your fingers crossed his v-line. Wooyoung sighs softly, closing his eyes and letting his head fall down on your shoulder. 

“No, it’s not true. I wouldn’t be here otherwise, dumbass.” He suddenly picks your legs up and puts them on his hips.This way, you’re kind of laid back on the stairs, still not fully in the water. The move caught you by surprise, now gripping his bicep.

“Why didn’t you call me?” Now it’s his turn to question, making you bite your lip in thought. 

“Because you’re kind of a celebrity.” You say it in a matter of fact way, because it’s true. Why would you suddenly call him up, when he’s traveling the world, seeing fans all around?

“It didn’t matter when I fucked you.” His voice is low now, whispering in your ear. Red color blooms across your face, making your stomach jump into a nervous knot at his voice,your thighs squeezing around his hips pulling him closer. 

You try to take a breath, thinking logically. “We can’t do that again.” Your breathing is getting heavier as your lips are getting closer to his. 

“Then why do you want it?”

You don’t know how to answer that. You seriously don’t want to answer his questions because it will only get you to be hot and bothered for nothing. And of course, he knows exactly. 

“You don’t have to say anything, I already know the answer.” His nose is brushing yours, the adrenalin is so high you’re surprised you haven’t passed out yet. “Forbidden fruit is the sweetest, right?” He tilts his head to the side, and like magnets, your lips collide with each other in a heated and heavy kiss. The way he kisses you, his hands gripping your waist to keep you close to his body makes your heady dizzy, finally satisfied to feel his lips on your again. 

Wooyoung swipes his tongue on your bottom lip, begging for entrance as you slightly open your mouth just to give him that. It’s messy, your teeth clashing together here and then as both of you urgently need the other. Like you want to hide inside him, getting more closer than ever as he wants the same. Wooyoung got needier the last time he was with you. 

No. 

“All I was able to think about was you.”

One of your hands is tangled in his black hair while the other is sliding all the way down to his swim truck. It feels wrong to do this again, but you’re far too gone now.

His hands are massaging the fat of your ass, his hardness poking at your stomach lightly as he keeps his hands glued on you.You moan softly in his mouth from the friction, then you catch him slip his fingers carefully under your bikini bottoms all the way to your clit. His smug grin appears on his face while kissing you, and never letting you go. Heavy pants surround the two of you as the moon is starting to come up to the sky, Wooyoung catching your hand to drag it all the way down to your core. 

With delicate kisses on your neck, he whispers. “Pull your panties to the side for me.” 

The way he talks has you melting in no time, forcing your brain to focus on holding your underwear to the side as you feel his fingers slide inside your warm walls.For him, it was like getting sent back to heaven. The way your walls wrap around his fingers, wishing it was his cock instead,has him moaning above you, inviting his mouth in more to feel his tongue on yours again. His pace matches with the way your breath quickens, moans and groans filling the backyard. 

“Woo, we have to stop.” You pull a few inches away to look in his lustful gaze. “I won’t stop here,Y/N” He takes the flesh on your neck between his teeth and starts sucking it. “I’m not going to wait another year for this.” He groans into your neck as his painfully hard cock brushes the side of your thigh. A whimper escapes you as you let your head fall back to the edge of the pool. “I…” 

At this time, he pushed your whole body to the tiles of the pool, and stroked himself to your core to ease his pain, his fingers now gone. He manages to get another moan out of you before a door shuts in loudly. You both jump away from each other and look up at the porch seeing the Jung family’s dog wagging his tail with a toy in his mouth. For a second a cold shiver runs through your body at the possibility that someone caught you two.But then Wooyoung’s eyes found yours again and you both let out a laugh at the pathetic situation. 

However, it was a close call. No one can ever see the two of you together, especially in this house. You watch him as he is starting to get out of the pool up to the porch to his dog to throw away his toy. He turns around and heads to the door. 

“Where are you going?” You ask as you finally get out of the pool.

“What do you think? I have to take care of this before the guests are here.” He gestures to his obvious bulge in his pants.  A giggle gets out of you and he just rolls his eyes. 

Right, the guests…

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

“So, Y/N honey, how was university this year? You’re not too hard on yourself right?” Wooyoung’s mom winks at you and laughs a little as she looks at you from the head of the table. You laugh along, nodding. “Everything is fine. My grades were a little low at the beginning of the semester, but I got myself together and it’s all fine.” She smiles at you with a warm gaze and turns back to the guests at her side. 

You look around – the whole table is full, when they said that they were expecting a few cousins you thought it was really just a few, not a whole army. After you and Wooyoung got interrupted outside, you decided to go and get yourself presentable for the guests. It was an annual thing that the family invited people from here and there to throw a summer party, and it was no different now. 

“And you Wooyoung? When will we finally see you with your wife and kids on your back, huh?” An older blonde woman asked, “I heard that you have someone!” You almost let out a scoff but held back as he turned to the woman with a mischievous glint in his eyes. 

“Oh yes, I have someone, although I don’t really know what she thinks about marriage and kids yet,” He continued  “She is closer than you might think.” 

You put your drink back down after a few coughs. The woman arched her brow. “Who wouldn’t want to marry you, honey?” She patted his hand and turned back to her partner. 

He visibly felt satisfied with that answer, the old lady practically stroking his ego with that comment. And who are you to let that slide and get to his head? Under the table, you gently stroke his crotch with your heels. He looked fantastic tonight. Wearing a white button up shirt, and a black dress pants. Simple, but on him, he looked like a Greekgod. 

He shoots his eyes to yours as you smile at him sweetly like nothing happened. He takes a deep breath and clears his throat. Let the game begin.

Slowly, he takes his small spoon and drops it under the table,your eyes following his actions. 

 Oh how cliché. - you thought.

“Oh, whoops.” He curses under his breath and looks around if anyone sees it, of course his sister looks over for just a second, then turns away and starts chatting. You already knew what was going to happen -- so you let it happen. 

Wooyoung being under the table gives you many ideas and so you prepare yourself to the worst, but then you can feel his hand slowly wrapping around your ankles. Lifting your feet out of your heels you find his crotch again, and slowly stroking it against his will. You can hear a faint groan under the table, but luckily the chatting in the room is loud enough to cover it.  Wooyoung’s fingers are bunching up your dress, just to have enough room for what he’s about to do. You quickly cover your abdomen with your napkin,then suddenly - a cold and piercing feeling strokes your wet folds making you gasp out. A few eyes land on you but you shake your head and laugh it off  “Sorry.”

What the hell?

What is he….?

Then again, you can feel the cold against your throbbing clit and his hands gripping your thighs. After a moment you realize. Your eyes widen as you mentally curse at yourself and at him. 

Is he really…?

And he strikes again. It feels so good, the cold spoon stroking your wet folds, sliding up and down making your hips move a little bit. You are trying so hard not to moan out loud as Wooyoung is working magic with a spoon. It feels so sick and disgusting, let's not mention that this is happening in front of the family. But it feels so good. He’s moving the spoon quicker by the time, and you have to bite down on your lip to keep your whines and moans. 

Like it’s not a torture enough for you,out of nowhere, he slides a finger into you, making you buck your hips up and let out a low sigh.

Once again, a few pairs of eyes look at you and - “I just feel a little nauseous, sorry.” You give them a tight smile as you grip your chair. You’re going to explode – at any minute now and he can’t control himself. You know he can’t. He gets off the pleasure of yours, he lives for your satisfaction so if he sees that you like it, it takes a lot for him to keep himself back.

His fingers are moving in sync with the spoon, but you can’t take it anymore. You push your chair back and stand up. “I’m going to the bathroom.” You whisper into your friend’s ear. She nods and squeezes your hand. 

As you walk away, you glance back at the table to see Wooyoung getting up from the floor and sitting back, a visible smirk plastered on his face. You shake your head and walk towards the stairs to hurry up to the closest bathroom you find. 

It shouldn’t be obvious right? I mean if he now gets up and says he’s gonna check on you like a loving family friend, then everyone should believe that right? Fuck it. His cock was rock hard against his pants and he needed a release with you. He has been waiting for it. 

So he stands up and says the exact words he said in his head. Nobody seems to care, so he turns around and hurries to the first bathroom that comes into sight, exactly where you went.

He puts his hand on the door, but before knocking he hears a faint whimper. A rush of adrenaline shivers through Wooyoung and puts his head on the door. He smirks to himself as he knocks on the door. The minute you open up the door he pushes you against the sink and kisses you deeply. It’s intense, and quick. He doesn’t want to waste any more time. He knows you want him, just as much as he wants you. 

“You’ve been keeping yourself warm and wet for me hmm, princess?” You tilt your head back to let him lick the side of your neck. With his leg he closes the door and locks it with one hand. 

“At the table, you acted like a bitch in heat. Stroking me under the table? Fine, have it your way then.” Wooyoung hisses as he can feel you getting handsy, already unbuttoning his dress shirt as his fingers zip down your dress, kissing all over your chest.  

Your hands travel down to his pants impatiently, taking his cock out as beads of pre-cum leaks down on your fingers the minute it slaps against his abdomen. Moaning at the sight, he lifts your legs to wrap it around his waist holding you close. His broad shoulders tense when you bite his neck, marking him visibly. Maybe you shouldn’t have done that. 

“Woo,please…” Your pleading echoes in the bathroom while Wooyoung grips your thighs to keep you pressed against the sink, feeling his cock pressed against your clothed core. You grind against him, making him groan out as he tugs your panties to the side. His fingers immediately find your tight entrance,pushing them in and making you moan out as you grab his unbottuned white shirt.

“Tell me what you want, darling.” He nuzzles his nose in your neck, biting on it and kissing the hurting sensation after, while his fingers indulges in your puffy walls. It feels like your whole body is on fire, only aching for him as he’s impossibly close to you. 

“You, inside me. Now.” You tell him straight up, you’ve been waiting for this since you had your first time with him.

Wooyoung smirks to himself as he listens to your pleas. “Beg for it, baby. I know you can do better than that.” With a light lick, he leaves a mark on your neck while his fingers tease the rim of your entrance, making you squeeze your eyes shut. It really became a torture with his cocky behavior, not letting you get what you want. The air between you long gone as your hands caress his glistening abs, your mind still trying to make up to finally say the words. 

But him, seemingly sensing your doubts, he suddenly lets your legs drop to the floor, and in a second he turns you around to face the mirror. “I’ll make sure you do better than that.” Wooyoung adds, forcing your upper body to lean on the counter in front of you, caressing the skin all the way down to your core. “Be a good girl for me, and play with yourself baby.” He adds, guiding your hand once again down to your aching point. As his hands caress your ass cheeks you can’t help but let out a whine, your fingers curling around your clit to get yourself off already. But you know it won’t work like that. 

Wooyoung loved playing around, and it was no different now, as he squats down to be eyes level with your glistening pussy, waiting for his plump lips to be attached to. So he does exactly that, slowly tasting you on his tongue, making him immediately groan out. It takes you by surprise, as you feel the sensation of your fingers around your clit and his tongue shoved deep inside you. As he moans against your pussy while massaging your ass gives you a wave of pleasure, making you hang your head down to the counter, his actions resulting in you being a moaning mess. 

“Come on, baby. Just say the words.” He sounds desperate too, wanting nothing more than to be inside you. But who are you to deny him now?

“Please Wooyoung, I need you to fuck me.” You breathe out, your head getting more dizzy as he suddenly pulls away from your soaking core and smacks your fingers away from your clit, denying your climax for the third time today. 

“There you go, pretty. Was that hard, hmm?” He hums against your ears as he kisses your exposed shoulders, his hands spreading your ass further as his other hand is lining himself up to your entrance. For a few times, he strokes his tip between your folds, making him groan out as he throws his head back slightly, veins popping out on his neck. “Keep looking in the mirror.” With a simple finger on your chin he turns your case to the mirror, watching yourself almost drool at the way he’s teasing your hole. “I want you to see yourself fall apart on my cock.” 

And with one simple move, he pushes his leaking tip into your warm walls, groaning at the feeling finally being inside you. “You’re so tight, Y/N. Fuck.” He groans, his hands gripping your waist as you try to inhale normally. As much as you want to keep your head up and watch his cock slide in and out of you, you can’t help but let your head hang down at the feeling of him throbbing inside you, his cock brushing against your cervix with one swift thrust. 

Wooyoung remained in place as he let out an erotic moan at the depth, while you on the other hand, were panting and trying desperately to blink away the tears out of your vision. “See, princess? See how much of a whore you are for me?” Wooyoung added as you tried to get a grip on something. 

“Mhmm” You couldn’t even form a word at this point, already deep into the feeling of him finally being inside you again. 

The sound of his waist hitting your ass echoed loudly in the bathroom, and the sound only got more repetitive as he began to properly move. His cock was so deep inside you, that you can see a bulge forming in your stomach when you look down between your bodies. 

“You’re so perfect, doll.” He grunted, dropping his head on your back momentarily then thrusting into you mercilessly. “So fucking good. You’re so tight and-- fuck!” He moaned out when you clenched down on him uncontrollably, making him lose his mind. “Shit, don’t squeeze me like that,” He grunted once again, swiping his hair out of the way. “You nearly made me come.” 

“D-don’t act like – ahh – you didn’t like that.” You panted out, little groans leaving you as you put your hand on the mirror in front of you. 

Wooyoung smirked, seeing the struggle of your hands not going anywhere. So in one swift motion, he pulled out and turned you around, making you sit back down on him without a warning as he fully seated back on the toilet, making you squeeze down on him again. With a satisfied sigh, he brushed your hair out the way and kissed the side of your neck. This way you felt him deeper inside you, almost thinking he can rearrange your insides. Without another sane thought, he thrusted up into you, making your eyes roll back, holding back a moan.

“Let me hear you, pretty.” Wooyoung thrusted up continuously as you tried to ride him, your nails bunching up his shirt on his back, your hand sneaking up into his hair to finally feel them between your fingers. He sighs into the crook of your neck as you scratch his scalp, however, he refuses to give you a break, continuously drilling his cock in you, his lips itching down to your collarbone. His cock kept rubbing along the perfect spot, making you cry out in a quiet – “Right there Woo,”. And the louder you cried, the more intense that feeling got. You could barely see through the blurry and teary eyes as he watched you with fully blown dark eyes and jaw tense as he fucked almost split you open. The hands that were grabbing your waist a second ago quickly pulled your bras down to attach his lips around one of your nipples, sucking and biting down on it as he was trying to get something out of it. Your toes curled as he switched between the two, his waist refusing to stop as he thrusted up into you powerfully, his hands slamming you down on his cock. 

“You’re tightening up, doll. Are you gonna cum?” Wooyoung could barely laugh as he groaned his question, feeling you clenched down on him again, now your climax is inevitable. 

“Yes, fuck! Woo, I’m gonna-” You whined, hugging his head closer to your chest as your release closed in. 

“Come baby, let me feel you milking me dry.” He groaned, the grip on your waist tightened as he moved his hips at a rapid speed, making you reach your climax in no time. Cumming around his cock you throw your head back as he bites into your nipple once again to contain his moans, feeling himself throbbing inside you uncontrollably. With a final thrust, he paints your walls white as he still feels your clenching around him, making him groan deeply, pulling you tightly against him while he watches his own cum oozing out around his cock. With a chuckle, he gathers it with his finger and brings it up to your lips to taste. A confused look plasters on your fucked out face, trying to breathe normally again as you watch him smile sweetly at you. 

“You don’t think I’m done with you, right, birthday girl?” 

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

i wrote this to my lovely friend who had their birthday recently<3 @liloraet

[mysteria157]

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Black Fem Reader

CW: Light Profanity, Light Alcohol Consumption, Explicit Sexual Content, Missionary, Fingering, Mentions of Cunnilingus, Public Sex (Sort of), Office Sex

WC: ~9.8k

Summary: 

Nanami may be disconnected from social media trends, but he’s not oblivious. He’s overheard the crass innuendos and seen the tasteless memes on Yuji's phone. He knows the vulgar things some men say—about how excited they get when the summer begins. 

It always seemed so stupid and dramatic to Nanami, who has never had a straying eye to actually see if the rumors were true. But now that you’ve come into his life…he gets it.

Oh, he gets it. 

Sundress season.

Notes: Hello! Had a random thought this morning and decided to roll with it and practice writing Nanami some more. Anywho, I hope you all enjoy this one-shot.

This is a prime example of me writing smut when I feel like it. Please do not ask me for more related to this story and please do not ask me to write smut, the answer is no lol. This is just a one-shot of a random idea, please enjoy it for what it is lol. Thank you all for understanding!

Reblogs, likes, or comments are always appreciated! Happy reading!

Dividers: @cafekitsune @arminsumi | Header: made by myself

Masterlist | Ao3 | Twitter |

©mysteria157, all rights reserved. DO NOT copy, plagiarize, reupload, modify, or translate (without permission) my work to other accounts and platforms.

The city summers are a different kind of hell. The humid heat clings to Nanami, making his skin feel instantly tacky as if he hasn’t showered in days. It wreaks havoc on his usual crisp suit and tie, causing the fabric to stubbornly adhere in unflattering ways. He thinks back wistfully to his bachelor days when he could simply escape such misery by holing up inside with the AC blasting, and then wait until the evening for a walk or to run errands. But that was before you came into his life like a vivacious sunbeam, all warmth and carefree laughter.

Now, he wouldn’t dream of depriving you of simple joys like strolling hand-in-hand through the park, watching you bask in nature’s dazzling seasonal shifts. The fragrant flowers blooming, the fireflies flickering to life as dusk settles, the earthy pre-rain smell you adore—he lives for the ease of these tranquil moments.

Throughout your relationship, Nanami has cataloged your ever-changing looks to match the passing seasons. The oversized chunky sweaters and leggings you’d cuddle up in during fall’s crisp breezes. The sleek peacoats and woolen scarves wound around your neck when winter blanketed the city in soft stillness.

But summertime is when your vibrant spirit and personal style shines. And it’s Nanami’s first summer with you when everything changes.

Nanami may be disconnected from social media trends, but he’s not oblivious. He’s overheard the crass innuendos and seen the tasteless memes on Yuji's phone. He knows the vulgar things some men say—about how excited they get when the summer begins. 

It always seemed so stupid and dramatic to Nanami, who has never had a straying eye to actually see if the rumors were true. But now that you’ve come into his life…he gets it.

Oh, he gets it. 

Sundress season.

And it’s a season that has awoken something primal within him. Something in his gut stirs, something in his mind shifts and the more he notices, the more he feels like a lecherous old man instead of the well-mannered one in his late twenties. While his clothes stick uncomfortably to his sweat-slicked skin you get to slip into breezy summer dresses that let every inch of your beautiful body breathe. 

As an event planner constantly on the move, you seem to live in the wispy, colorful outfits at all hours of the day. Like the buttercup yellow and candy pink number currently floating around you as you stroll together to the bakery during your shared lunch hour. It’s modest—cotton fabric that doesn’t stick to you, with ruffle short sleeves and a V-neckline that highlights your collarbones and the delicate diamond necklace resting between.

Nanami risks a sidelong glance, instantly regretting it when his gaze gets trapped by the way the bright floral pattern sways and twists with each step you take. The hem brushes the brown skin of your knees and while he can’t see much, Nanami knows the soft curves hidden underneath the airy fabric intimately.

While the caveman part of him can understand the underlying meaning of sundress season, it’s everything else that flares his want for you. It’s the wild curls that brush your cheeks and neck, the diamond earrings that reflect in the sun, the curl of your long lashes that kiss your lower lids when you blink. And yes—the gorgeous dress that you have on enhances everything about you—but in the most basic sense, you are beautiful.

“You’re staring.” It’s a playful accusation that you direct at him even though your eyes are admiring the tulips that you both walk past.

He quickly averts his eyes, sharp cheeks blazing a fiery red. “My apologies I…” Nanami clears his throat, struggling to regain his usual unruffled demeanor. “That dress looks lovely on you.”

You hum in acknowledgment, pausing so he can open the bakery door for you. “You think so? I just picked it up last week. Perfect for this heat, isn’t it?”

Nanami swallows hard at the teasing tilt to your tone, the innocent question feeling anything but. From the very first day he met you—that very first day you knocked back a glass of expensive whiskey and smiled at him as if it was nothing—he’s come to accept that you have no reservations of flustering him. You thrive on it, and for as stiff as Nanami is, you are a breath of fresh air that he never imagined would slide into his lungs. 

Umber eyes watch you walk ahead of him and into the welcoming AC of the bakery, tantalizing calves flexing with each step.

“Very much…” is all he can manage, hastily ripping his eyes away again as his equilibrium dangerously shifts.

You laugh lightly at his sudden silence, the warm, rich sound simultaneously soothing his thundering heart and making it trip up all over again. “You act like you’ve never seen me in a dress before.”

“You know that’s not true,” he mutters, switching his gaze to the menu to avoid your entirely too-innocent smile. “I simply…appreciate fine things.”

The rich ring of your answering chuckle sends molten desire licking traitorously down his spine. “Is that so? Then I’ll have to acquire more of these stunning ‘fine things’ for you to appreciate this summer…”

He should have known better than to egg you on. Had he kept his eyes to himself and brushed off your knowing glances, he could have enjoyed you without your playful watch. But for as smart as Nanami is, for as observant and vigilant in his work as he is in his life outside of it, he can never wrap his head around how devious you truly are.

One day, the weather calms down enough for lunch at the park. It’s the perfect day to eat outside. The sun is high in the sky but the canopy of trees gives you both the protection you need from harsh rays.

“Need any help setting up?” You call out, shrugging off the ice denim jacket from your shoulders to reveal this summer’s newest addition—an angelic white sundress adorned with delicate lace trim.

Nanami’s throat tightens and he shakes his head, unfurling a blue blanket onto the thick grass below you both. “I can do it, love. Please just relax.” 

He carefully arranges the picnic blanket, spreading the wrinkles free before you plop down on one side. As you dig into the large lunchbox, he admires the crisp white cotton that seems to skim over your frame, covering you but still unable to touch. Thin straps leave your shoulders bare, your skin glowing in the sun from your shimmery sunscreen. No necklace this time, so the square neckline dips just enough to offer a subtle hint of cleavage. The stretchy ribbed material hugs and accentuates every lush curve before gently flaring into an effortless, free-flowing skirt.

You purse your lips and furrow your brow in concentration, leaning more over the lunchbox, your back straightening to steady yourself before he watches free of shame as you arch just so.

When you turn to flash him that achingly fond smile, your curls falling over one shoulder, all traces of decency flee from Nanami’s mind. In that moment, he’s transported back to those dizzying early days of your relationship—entirely captivated, yet utterly terrified of somehow shattering this dazzling, undeserved connection between you.

“Thirsty?” You hold out one of the banana milk boxes that he’s grown to love since your presence, an impish quirk of your brow, clearly aware of his slow descent into hell.

Nanami nods jerkily and takes the milk box, unable to find his voice for a beat. As you settle down gracefully beside him, the skirt drifts up in a gentle billow, shaping to and showcasing skin. He has to tear his eyes away from the wicked flashes of toned thigh with extreme willpower.

Like the devil you are, you toss him a coy smirk, shiny lip gloss clear even though he knows it tastes like strawberry. “We gonna eat or are you just gonna gawk at me like a weirdo?”

He can’t help the scoff that leaves him as he pulls out sandwiches for you both. “I thought you liked when I gawk at you.”

“Not when I’m hungry.” 

He shakes his head, smirking softly as he removes the cling wrap before handing you your half, your fingers brushing against his. Warm pleasure blooms in his chest at the radiant sight you make contrasted against the swaying greenery. It’s as if you don’t belong but he couldn’t imagine you anywhere else. You take a generous bite of your sandwich, a smear of mustard in the crease of your lips as you offer him a gentle smile.

As the scorching summer rages, Nanami can’t help but chastise himself. A mundane and childish social meme has become the representation of the hardest test he’s ever taken. Maybe he should have asked for tips from Yuji on how to better prepare himself. 

He’s always prided himself on admiring from afar, on controlling his emotions in public and savoring them later in private. He knows your beauty and the unintentional way you drain the air around him. But he’s always been able to offer that soft smile, place a hand on your shoulder or your waist and offer a compliment to whatever you’ve chosen to wear for the day. But recently, in the face of your summertime wardrobe choices, Nanami finds that steely discipline faltering at an alarming rate.

Sinking deeper into the plush living room sofa, Nanami exhales a deep sigh and allows the tension thrumming through his shoulders to bleed away. Here, surrounded by the apartment’s climate-controlled sanctuary, he can savor these increasingly rare moments of solitary peace sprawled out with a good book. It’s a well-deserved shared day off for you both—free of schedules, obligations, or anything more strenuous than lounging around with each other. And more importantly, at home, you’re nothing but comfortable clothes and soft pajamas. 

He’s safe.

A wry smirk tugs at the corner of his lips as he imagines the look of feigned innocence you always sport whenever he gets too overt about appreciating your seasonal attire. As if you don’t know the absolutely devastating effect even the simplest hair toss or twirl has on what’s left of his challenging self-restraint these days.

It’s going to be a great day. He’s almost done with this book, just three more chapters and then he can start another in his pile that he wants to tackle this summer. That’s right, Nanami Kento is going to—

The soft pad of your bare feet against the hardwood floors has Nanami glancing up instinctively from behind the novel’s pages. And just like that, the world around him completely whites out as if he’s been hit over the head with a brick.

You’ve emerged from the hallway in a yellow sundress so vibrantly captivating, so deliciously clingy and effortlessly suggestive that he nearly swallows his tongue in surprise. The rich gold hue kisses the deep tone of your skin, as if you’re a sunflower blooming under the artificial lighting of the apartment. The dress accentuates your shape in the most brazenly tantalizing way—the thin ruffle straps on your shoulders, the sweetheart neckline hinting at full cleavage, the dress’ light hem hitting indecently high on your thighs in playful flirty wisps.

But it’s the stretchy knit fabric’s complete inability to disguise any curve or meaty swell that really has Nanami sitting up straighter on the cushions. It’s not layered well enough—almost transparent—and the snug material leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination, from the outline of bright panties that cover the soft spread of your hips to the pert dusky points outlined beneath the bodice. 

Absolutely devastating and on full, confident display and this isn’t fair because he has three chapters left.

He barely registers the “What are you reading?” you offer him over one shoulder as you stroll towards the kitchen area in that swaying, uninhibited saunter that never fails to ignite his senses. Nanami simply sits there transfixed—one hand gripping the spine of his book while the other claws restlessly against his own inner thigh. Each roll of your hips has that thin dress swishing and lifting in tiny torturous glimpses that have his imagination veering wildly into unrestrained territory. But he’s at home, that’s okay right?

That’s when you shift your weight onto the tips of your toes, your back turned to him, stretching up towards the top cabinets with one hand braced against the counter…and the entire world seems to judder to a halt all over again. Because from this new vantage point, Nanami can’t tear his eyes away from the call of your legs, the dimples on the backs of your thighs, up, up to the hem and—

A guttural sound wrenches free from low in his diaphragm, a mix of a groan and a growled curse. He looks back down to his book, searching aimlessly for where he left off, flickering back over to you just as quick.

He should look away, tear his eyes off of the gloriously indecent picture you’ve unwittingly created simply by existing. And yet…Nanami finds his stare burning an increasingly blazing trail down the bewitching ‘V’ between your shoulder blades, past the delicious dip of your arched lower back to the toned flare of your thighs and calves below.

At one point, you bend even deeper at the waist, hips tilting up as you struggle to reach a particularly elusive item on the high shelf. The filmy yellow skirt jumps and flirts up with the motion, granting Nanami a shameless eyeful of toned thighs and the flash of his favorite pair of panties—lilac with lace along the edges that squeeze the skin of your ass in the most inviting way. He very nearly drops the book from his suddenly slack fingers at the sight, hissing out a low curse between his teeth.

You huff out an adorable sound of frustration as you fail to reach whatever item you’re going for, and he knows he should step in to assist like the gentleman he is. But his stare remains rooted to spot, ogling and committing it all to memory so he can think about it later—alone.

“Let me get that,” he finally manages to scrape out, voice gone low and gritty with naked yearning despite his best efforts at nonchalance. 

You shoot him one of those bright, beaming smiles over your shoulder in response—blissfully unaware of the effect your glowing, ethereal beauty has on him even without your intentional teasing. “Just grabbing the flour for dinner,” you explain sheepishly, leaning into his broad form as he comes up behind you and grabs the ingredient on the top shelf. “I always have trouble reaching.”

And isn’t that just symbolic as all hell? His curvy, tempting beloved constantly hovering just beyond his reach these past few weeks—unattainable without discarding every last vestige of control he has. It isn’t like you both don’t have sex. You do…often. There’s just always been a build up, never anything explosive.

Even in the privacy of your home, he’s never thrown caution to the wind. Nanami has always been one to savor every calculated build of pleasure in its precious sequence. You’ve expressed your satisfaction readily enough, reciprocating his passion with that same rapturous abandon you bring to all aspects of life. But in all the years of his tiring, overworked life, you are the first to show him what it feels like to never walk a predetermined line.

“This is…I’ve never seen you wear it inside,” Nanami manages, his throat feeling increasingly dry as his eyes trace the line of fabric on your shoulders.

You take the flour from him, shooting him a sly, knowing look from beneath your lashes as you turn to face him fully. “It’s a little stuffy in here, don’t you think?”

He can’t stop the reflexive glance that rakes over every inch of you. “It’s sixty-eight degrees.”

You lean in a fractional amount—just enough for the swell of your breasts to brush against his shirt as you crane up towards his face. “Well, I run hot,” you murmur, voice dropping into the pits of hell, a throaty register that bypasses Nanami’s higher cognitive functions entirely. 

He’s beyond undone. Frozen in place with desperate, rapturous hunger raging through his very marrow. This close, he can make out the small raised moles on your exposed shoulders, the genetic blemishes that are common for your skin tone. He gets a better view of the rigid peaks of your nipples straining against the thin fabric, practically begging for the heated and dripping touch of his mouth that he’s always more than happy to bestow upon you. 

His fingertips clench and relax at his sides, held back only by tremendous reserves of willpower from reaching out to map and relearn every soft, silken plane of feminine heat and temptation currently being dangled in front of him like a prize he still can’t win.

You take in the undisguised wanting and torment written large across his features with a look of utter satisfaction. Then, before he can formulate some slurred plea for relief, you spin on one heel and saunter out of his reach—hips undulating hypnotically beneath that flimsy gauze of material in an alluring farewell.

Only once you finally disappear around the corner does Nanami manage to sag forwards—palms braced on the counter as he attempts to draw steady lungfuls of air back into his oxygen-starved body.

By the time he plops back on the sofa, and opens the spine of his book, the desire to read is gone.

You take pity on him for a few weeks after that searing afternoon in the kitchen. Your outside adventures are marked by breathable athletic leggings paired with loose tank tops that drape and show you off…but in a far tamer, less flagrantly teasing way than before.

Even at home, the soft cotton shorts and tees you lounge around in provide Nanami some solace—the casual fabrics leaving just enough to the imagination rather than putting every mouth-watering curve on display.

Your usual playful flirtations also seem to be dialed back during this oasis period. As if you’re allowing the poor man a chance to realign his senses and regain some semblance of control. It allows him time to resettle back into some of his usual regimented routines. Without you on a mission at the periphery of his awareness constantly, stoking those primal fires, he finds himself able to slip back into the role of polished, tired professional and attentive partner with relative ease.

Perhaps a bit too easily, if he’s being honest with himself. Because before he can even register the transition, that fleeting grace period seems to dissolve back into the heady summer ether as quickly as it had begun.

The warm evening air smells of charcoal and citronella as Nanami moves through the crowd, trying yet failing to focus on anything but you. All around him, friends and coworkers intermingle while indulging in ice-cold drinks and delicious food fresh off the smoker. He loves food, especially Yuki's cooking when she hosts a barbecue.

But none of it registers tonight.

Because every sensory nerve-ending in his body is completely captivated and overwhelmed by the vision you make in that deep red sundress.

The rich crimson chiffon swirls and caresses over your body in sinuous waves of delicious color. You’re bathed in red, as if rose petals have unfurled and stitched themselves together to form the beautiful dress on your body. It’s a maxi dress that sweeps down to your ankles and kisses the straps of your block heels. Scorching flashes of full thighs are visible through the flowing slits on each side. The deep v-neck dips in a daring drop that leaves your sternum and the inner sides of your breasts achingly exposed. 

Each step you take has the delicate material clinging and drifting in the most hypnotic dance around your heavenly form. Nanami tracks the rhythmic sway of your hips with a burning stare, his control splintering a little more with every toss of your head that allows the deep brown of your skin to wink at him from the column of your neck.

Yuki is already three wine coolers in—not a lot for most, but more than enough for her to throw decorum to the wind. From across the backyard, Choso watches with an indulgent smile as his partner bobs off-beat to the soft music flowing from the speakers.

Choso's expression of pure adoration mirrors the way Nanami looks at you when he thinks no one else is watching. They share that unspoken understanding, that bone-deep contentment of being completely enraptured by the women they love.

At one point, the music shifts, more alcohol disappears, and Yuki is hauling you to the makeshift dance floor of the backyard. Nanami tries, he really, really does. But everything about you makes him stand at attention. Breathing, walking, laughing, smiling at nothing, and now—with just one rock of your hips to the music—his eyes are locked in.

You’ve never been a good dancer. But you’ve also never cared of the expectation to be a good one either. And Yuki is an extroverted pull that makes you sway more, that makes your shoulders roll and laughter to bubble from your lips as you watch your friend make a fool of herself. 

Nanami runs a hand through his thick blonde locks, disrupting the careful part he made before you both left the apartment earlier in the evening. The other hand clutches a glass of scotch a little tighter, the condensation sliding against his fingers before he takes a generous swig, his eyes not once leaving you. 

You can feel him before you even look over, and when you do lock with Nanami’s deep brown gaze from across the yard, you throw him a soft look from beneath your lashes as you slowly roll your hips. It’s the same motion of your hips that he got to feel last night with you straddling him, panting against his lips in the middle of the night.

Outwardly sensual in only a way he can recognize amongst everyone around him. But it’s your rapturous, carefree expression of pure bliss that simultaneously enchants and undoes the last tattered remains of his composure. With every movement, you embody the very essence of feminine energy—raw, joyful, and utterly free. You are a vision of untamed beauty, a wild goddess of the summer night come to life in a swirling dreamscape of rich ruby chiffon. 

The erotic, carnal urge to chase after your swaying, taunting form and haul you away to some shadowed corner where he can divest you of that sinful dress is overwhelming. Swallowing hard, Nanami averts his burning stare for fear of literally combusting on the spot.

“You alright there, buddy?” Yu's familiar voice cuts through the lusty fog, tinged with the warm charm of a couple beers down. “You look like you’re about to swallow your tongue or something.”

“I…excuse me,” is all Nanami can grate out, the remark feeling like fragments of glass as he speaks. He doesn’t wait for a response, simply stalking off through the open patio door and into the thankfully dim and cool interior of Yuki and Choso's home. Anything to escape your enticing presence for even a single moment.

The music and laughter from outside feels muffled as he sinks down onto the living room sofa in the shadows—rubbing distractedly at his thundering chest. But it does nothing to get rid of the vision of you dancing so wantonly and on unrestrained display in that gorgeous ruby sundress. 

Where are you even getting them? Online? Or is there a store that he doesn’t know about? He hasn’t seen other women in the city wearing dresses like you do. But then again…Nanami doesn’t really pay attention unless it’s you. 

His fingers grip the plush armrest of the sofa until the knuckles strain white, breath sawing harsh and ragged from his heaving lungs. Nanami squeezes his eyes shut, forcing himself to visualize anything other than the way that lightweight crimson had drifted and kissed over your thighs that peeked between side slits, the growing sheen of sweat between the generous canvas of your chest, the exposed slope of your neck free of curls—a spot of concealer on the side to hide the mark he gave you last night.

A harsh exhale escapes him as he forces his eyes open, only to instantly regret it. The muted sounds of the party filter in from outside—sweet laughter, the low thrum of bass, the periodic high-pitched squeal of your voice crying out at Yuki to get a hold of herself.

Nanami’s stomach clenches raggedly at that sound, arousal stroking down his spine in sweltering waves. Through the clear glass of the patio door, he can see the way your face lights up in pure rapturous joy as you give in to yourself. The subtle shifts and gyrations of your body in time with the beat, each swivel of your hips like a siren’s call. 

Against his volition, imagination melds into memory, replaying the countless times he’s buried his face between your thighs and simply drank in the celestial sounds of your pleasure until his name was a breathless gasp on your lips. That shrieking cry at Yuki almost the same towards him when he licks at your sensitive nerves one too many times. He forces his gaze away, leans his head back against the sofa and stares up at the ceiling.

The music fluctuates once more, that instantly recognizable intro to the next funky summer hit you adore cuing up. Despite the walls between you, Nanami can still acutely pick up the subtle cadence of your movements in time with that danceable rhythm. He knows the exact choreography of hips and legs that song inspires in you…and his slacks suddenly feel far too confining.

That’s when your voice cuts through the relative quiet like a bolt of lightning, somehow even closer now as you call out—half-playful chiding, half siren’s promise.

“Oh Kentooo…” The singsong inflection has his eyes squeezing shut even as his cock shamefully twitches against it’s restrictive fabric prison. “Where has my favorite salaryman gone off to hide? You know I can’t dance without my partner watching me.”

Gritting his teeth against the dark, full-bodied groan that tries to escape, Nanami hunches forward until his elbows are digging into his thighs. There you stand framed in the patio door, backlit in a devastating silhouette by the lantern lights emanating through the loud yard behind you.

You walk closer in that torturous dress, the double layers trailing languidly behind in currents of fabric that have his throat struggling to swallow. Your stunning frame is practically dripping in sensual confidence and self-assured power. He knows the power you have over him and would sooner swallow his favorite tie than give that up.

The rich carmine floats around you in sinuous waves as you sashay closer to where Nanami sits transfixed on the sofa. And with each step, all manners and decorum that have been taught to him fizzle away with the increasing ache in his jeans.

“Like what you see?” you murmur huskily once you’ve prowled to stand between his legs, allowing Nanami an unfettered view of your neckline, the long gold necklace between your breasts winking at him with each shallow intake of breath. You lift one leg to press a knee onto his powerful thigh—close enough for your perfume to slide down his nostrils and cloud his mind. The slit over your bent knee flutters open in an obscene gap, granting his hooded gaze a glimpse of skin his teeth ache to bite into.

“I asked,” you breathe out in a seductive timbre, near enough for Nanami to actually taste the addictive warmth of your presence on his tongue. “If you like what you see…”

The inhale that rattles through his powerful frame is involuntary. So is the compulsive way his fingertips suddenly flex against the cushion with the overwhelming urge to finally reacquaint himself with the soft temptation of your skin. Others be damned, mannerisms of being a respectful guest falling to the wayside.

Somewhere through the rapidly thickening haze of pure liquid arousal, Nanami manages a jerky nod—unable to summon even the most basic of syllables in response. He swallows hard, Adam's apple bobbing convulsively as you arch one delicious eyebrow in a silent challenge. With your beautiful curls pulled up into a high ponytail, he can see the slope of your ears that are adorned with the gold hoops he bought you last month.

Then, before he can gather enough of his scattered wits to chastise you for your behavior, you’re boldly reaching out and capturing one of his clenching fists in a firm grip. A soft grunt rattles up from deep in Nanami’s chest at the heated feel of your palm finally making purchase on his overheated skin.

But his breath hitches in a harsh inhale as you purposefully guide his splayed fingers towards your exposed leg—sliding his hand up excruciatingly slow to caress along the landscape of textures and planes laid out in offering. He expects the generous hem of panties he’s seen time and time again. He knows what they look like in his mind when he teases the edges before slipping inside to graze his fingers along your aching clit. But the calloused pads of his fingertips brush the thin string of a thong instead. And it’s just a single touch that has him wide-eyed, reeling—the edges of his vision dizzying into a hazy fog of aching, inexplicable need. 

You should have come with a manual. Surely there’s a guide to get through the summer months with you? Some sort of text to explain the steps he needs to take to keep himself in control in public?

The rapturous throb of your saphenous vein leaps against his fingertips as you allow him to slant just a hairsbreadth further—close enough to feel the heat of the place he’s been countless times before—close enough to slide a thick finger along fabric he knows is wet.

Only for you to tear your hand away and drop your knee as the sound of Yuki's voice pierces the heavy sensual tension hanging between your bodies.

“There you are!” She calls out cheerfully from the sliding glass door. “My song is on, come dance with me!”

There’s a gentle tuft of laughter from you then—one tinged with dark satisfaction as you drink in the wrecked, wanton expression flaming across Nanami’s features. As if thoroughly enjoying reducing him to this strung-out state of desperation. You could rule the world if given the right resources.

“Yuki, let’s get you some water. You’ve had a little too much to drink…” your voice trails off as you disappear in a rustle of vermilion and sashaying hips with one last loaded look over your bare shoulder. 

He manages a shuddering breath that feels more like sandpaper sliding down his abused lungs. The delicious scent of your perfume still clings to the charged air around him, the phantom-like caress of your dress along his knuckles, the sound of your throaty laugh disappearing back to the party outside. Each ragged exhale has his body subtly canting forward, giving silent chase to your retreating form as if by muscle memory alone. 

This game…this deliciously maddening game you delight in playing has Nanami’s entire being teetering on the razor-thin edge of unraveling completely. Each new summer ensemble seems specifically designed to further tempt and destroy the decades of discipline he’s meticulously cultivated since he was a teenager.

Nanami would think after a relationship or two, he would have steeled himself against falling victim to seduction. And yet, not a single woman from his past could have prepared Nanami for the devastating combination of your radiant beauty and barely-restrained hedonism.

Your laughter calls out to him again, his eyes snapping up to see you smiling as Yuki chugs the glass of water Choso has pressed to her lips. Completely innocent and free of devilish qualities, the fact that Nanami knows that dark side of you makes him fold his arms across his chest, sagging against the sofa and glaring at your form as he wills his erection to go down.

It’s two days before summer’s end when Nanami feels the steadily fraying threads of his self-control finally unravel into oblivion. He’s tried every possible tactic these last few months to stave off the relentless fire of desire you’ve been stoking within him—going for runs, ice cold showers, avoiding you when possible. He’s even resorted to having you model your newest sundress purchases at home in a desperate attempt at desensitizing himself. It all seems incredibly dramatic, but Nanami has no idea what else to do. Nothing has worked against the intoxicating mix of your lively beauty and increasingly bold choices designed to torment him until he’s six feet under.

He had known from the moment he accidentally stumbled upon that fateful periwinkle dress sitting in your laptop’s shopping cart that it would be his undoing. He can still picture with perfect clarity the way the model seemed to shimmer and dance on the screen as he clicked through the product imagery—he pictured it with heart throbbing clarity how it would look on you.

And he still has so many more years left of his life to enjoy.

Without conscious thought, Nanami had swiftly removed the item from the cart—an invasion of privacy that left him nauseous, but a necessary decision if only to spare himself. 

He was stupid to think it would actually work.

So it comes as little surprise to see you boldly flaunting that silken number tonight at the rooftop gala marking his company’s most prosperous quarter yet. The twinkling strings of lantern bulbs and hot summer breezes swirling all around you only heighten the flagging warning that this night won’t end the way he wants. 

As you glide about the rooftop, the pale periwinkle seems to float effortlessly around your body. Like every dress before, this one is no exception, complimenting the deepness of your skin. The whisper-weight fabric lays against your hips and waist, simultaneously shaping and gracefully draping in all the right places.

The thin straps crisscross behind your neck, framing your graceful shoulders and collarbones. As you turn, the silk lifts and drifts around you in a mesmerizing swirl of decadence. It’s another plunging V-neckline, but this dress sits on your body and decolletage with an air of romantic grace. It’s not scandalous like that night at Yuki and Choso's. 

But it’s the back—oh it’s the back that makes his gaze heavy, that makes the organ in his chest beat out of rhythm with every inch he uncovers. Try as he might, it’s absolutely impossible for him to look away from the delicate contours and valleys of your body put on full and enthralling display by this backless dress. From the elegant lines of your throat and shoulders left teasingly bare to the soft inward curve of your arched lower back—the dress is a cruel temptation showcasing every salivating inch of you that he’s spent countless nights worshiping.

It’s beautiful on you, truly and unimaginably beautiful, and it’s a terrible twist of fate that such a simple observation is destroying Nanami from the inside. All that discipline—the cold showers, the extra miles added to his runs, the attempts of desensitization—it’s useless. No matter how hard he tries, he will always notice something new each time he looks at you. And it will always wreck him and throw him off axis whether he likes it or not.

Because amidst all the warmth and sociability of this rooftop celebration, all Nanami’s rapidly sharpening focus can zero in on is the subtle glisten of perspiration trailing down the slope of your spine. Every imperceptible turn and cock of your hip amplified tenfold by the silk that gets to touch you while he watches. As if personally daring him to finally surrender every last shred of patience and simply take what he wants.

A soft chuckle escapes your full lips as Nanami’s boss leans in closer, undoubtedly regaling you with some far from amusing anecdote from the office. The charming sound has every thread of Nanami’s control taut like a bowstring. Because that sound means a lot for him nowadays—laughing at his dry humor, the movies you both watch together, the giggling stuttering into whimpers and moans of ecstasy when your back arches from his tongue.

Suddenly, the light summer breeze kicks up in and swirls around you, waving the hem of your dress and the two-day old twistout on your head. Instinctively, you reach up to tuck a lock of those dark silken twists behind one ear.

Time itself seems to slow as he watches those inky tendrils ghost across your bare shoulders and the exposed skin of your upper back. Nanami watches with visceral hunger as those wild strands make playful, meandering paths across the smoothly toned expanse of brown skin. His entire body instantaneously flushes with hot need and arousal at the simple, harmless image. The soft rise of your breasts shake as you offer a fake laugh to whatever drivel your boss has just said. And in that split second—the culmination of tonight, this dress, the entire summer of taunting and coy smiles— Nanami’s restraint finally shatters into so many useless slivers at his feet.

Before conscious thought can override anything else, he’s stalking across the rooftop with rigid, predatory intensity—adjusting the unique glasses on his nose, his mouth set in a grim line of single-minded focus. The gaggle of chattering coworkers and small-talk banter all fade away into muted static and white noise. All that exists in this heated vortex of Nanami’s rapidly narrowing universe is the coiling pull of you.

“Ah, Nanami!” His boss greets heartily, clearly surprised yet pleased to see the company’s best worker at last. “Your partner and I were just discussing a better way to spruce up the quarterly party for next year. Care to weigh in, my friend?”

The question lands on deaf ears. Because at the exact same instant his professional mentor is extending that olive branch of attempted small talk…your eyes are on his, a knowing, small smile pressed to the hem of your champagne glass as you take a sip. The sight of your jewelry, the fabric against your skin, the way you look at him…the desire that rips through his body is staggering.

“I apologize for interrupting, but I need to speak with you,” he grates out in a tone heavy with gravel and masculine focus. His palm finds the smoldering heat of your lower back without conscious thought, marking delirious patterns of desire against your naked skin. Your eyebrows furrow with a silent question at the rough timbre of his command…even though you see that undisguised storm of hunger and frustrated desire raging behind his tinted glasses.

“Of course,” you finally murmur and turn to his coworkers to wish them goodbye, setting down your glass on the table beside you.

He’s burning, raging with a fever that doesn’t even exist and each shallow inhale draws more of your achingly familiar perfume into his senses—only making things worse.

He guides you through the crowded rooftop party and towards the elevators with a molten intensity bordering on feral. Nanami’s palm maps possessive into the searing expanse of your back. Every step jostles his arm flush against the silk on your frame.

“Where exactly are we going in such a hurry?”

The rich, seductive rasp of your voice is designed to torture him further, but Nanami doesn’t rise to it, simply presses fingers more firm to your back, his other punches the elevator button with purpose.

“I said I need to speak with you,” he finally bites out. “That should be more than enough.”

You lean further into his touch and look up at him, your tongue darts out to toy with your plush bottom lip in a show of faux innocence.

“Is that so?” The melodic lilt coupled with the ghost of your warm breath fanning across Nanami’s jaw would have been enough to make a lesser man’s knees buckle entirely. Instead, it simply ratchets the tension coiling through his powerful frame into a downright maddening degree.

The soft chime of the arriving elevator makes you both turn in tandem, the mirror of the elevator doors casting your reflections—allowing Nanami to drink in the smoldering fire already blazing behind your heavy-lidded stare. There’s profound hunger glimmering there that matches his own. An unadulterated wildness reined in by the thinnest veneer of coy indifference. You’ve always been slick—but not tonight.

The mirrored doors slide open with a hushed mechanical shush, you both step inside, and the doors slide closed. 

Nanami offers a silent apology for the violation of manners his parents instilled in him before he backs you into the far wall—the breath punching out of your lungs as your back makes shocking contact with the mirrored paneling. Now it’s you breathless, struggling to compose yourself as the masculine power of Nanami consumes you.

A subtle shudder ripples through Nanami’s abdomen as you wantonly tilt your head back, arching your throat in wordless invitation just as your fingertips rise to trail heated lines over his heaving chest. The lapels are black as midnight, the undershirt a crisp white, and he’s the handsome man that’s all yours even as he fights between what’s right and what he wants. One of his palms is cupping the slope of your jawline as the other maps out the silk of your dress. He bends slowly until the heat of his mouth is tracing the full curve of your parted lips—a heavy brush of sculpted male confidence against your teasing softness. 

“You’ve pressed against my boundaries to a criminal degree, love,” Nanami warns in a dark rasp scorched with the first cinders of the firestorm yet to come. His palm slides up the bare inward curve of your back until his fingers are tunneling through the wild riot of your twistout at the nape of your neck. Tinted eyes slit in satisfaction as your head tips back farther on a shaky inhale—granting him access to the deliciously vulnerable length of your throat.

“Nothing to say?” he husks out in the open, admiring the flutter of your lashes as his voice hits you. Nanami’s mouth brands a hot trail from the sensitive juncture of your jaw up towards the shell of your ear. You whimper softly at the slow, torturous build—the same sound of rapture he has memorized and pulled from you countless times between the sheets. It’s enough to strip away any lingering reservations entirely. 

With the strength he’s never ashamed to show you, hands slide under your thighs and he yanks you up. Your legs wrap around him on instinct, your arms winding around his neck, your head tilting back again to smack on the mirrored glass. 

His tongue glides along the buttery curve of your throat, tasting the familiar tang of salt and vanilla on the tip and the smell of him, of pure Nanami clouds your mind enough to finally look down at him, your noses a hairsbreadth from each other. It’s a silent standoff, your eyes as teasing as they are filled with arousal, his eyes dark with something that makes you shiver against him. 

And then he’s kissing you, deep and hungry, his hands roaming the bare expanse of your back, dipping lower, pulling you closer. You melt into Nanami’s kiss, your initial surprise giving way to a matching hunger. Your hands slip under his suit jacket, feeling the heat of his skin through his shirt. He groans against your mouth, the sound vibrating through you, igniting your nerves, thrumming in your veins.

You don’t even hear the elevator doors open but you feel him walking, lips hot and demanding groaning into you as you slide your fingers into his golden locks and pull. Nanami knows these floors like the back of his hand, and he’s familiar with the abandoned break room on the thirtieth floor, his hand yanking the door open and shutting it hard, lips never leaving yours. 

You gasp into his mouth when your ass lands on the old buttons of a copier, the machine groaning under your weight, the plastic buttons beeping in protest. As Nanami presses you against the copier, he can’t help but marvel at the feel of you beneath his hands. The dress, this damn dress, is like water under his fingers, smooth and cool and entirely too thin. He can feel every curve, every contour, every shuddering breath you take. 

He punctuates his actions with a roll of his hips, pressing his hardness that strains against his slacks against your core. You moan, your head falling back, and he takes advantage of your exposed neck, his lips and teeth worrying the sensitive skin, his tongue licking the marks he leaves.

“How many more dresses do you have?” he growls against your throat, his voice rough with need. “How many more ways are you going to torture me?”

You gasp as his teeth graze your pulse point, your fingers threading into his hair. “T-that depends,” you manage, your voice breathy. Nanami’s chuckle is dark, dangerous, his hands trailing higher, dipping into the seam of your panties, his fingers brushing over your clit. He savors the way your jerk against him, a whimper leaving your throat as you pant into the dusty air.

“Is this what you wanted? To reduce me to this? A man so desperate for you he’d take you in a public place?”

“Yes,” you hiss, arching into his touch, your breasts pressing against the thin silk that covers them. “Yesyesyes...”

Nanami’s groan is part frustration, part desire. “You have no idea what you do to me.” There’s a hint of wonder in his voice, a note of awe at the depth of his own need. His fingers press more insistently, circling, gathering your slick to make each stroke more messy and impactful, driving you towards the edge. The buttons of the copier dig into your skin, the machine whirring and beeping beneath you, adding to the crescendo of sensation. He can hear the mechanical shuffle of papers being chucked out from one end, slapping onto the floor.

“Do you like this?” Nanami pants, his breath hot against your ear. “Do you like teasing me, driving me crazy?”

“Yes,” you admit, free of shame, your nails digging into his shoulders. “Please, Kento.”

He slides two fingers into your wet heat, savoring your wanton gasp, increases the pressure, the speed of his fingers, pushing you closer to the precipice. “Have you done this before?” he asks, his voice raw with emotion. “Teased other men like this, made them want you so badly they’d forget themselves?”

“No,” you moan desperately, your head thrashing from side to side, deep locks brushing your cheeks. “Never. It’s only ever been you, Kento. Only you.”

“Say it again,” he demands, his teeth grazing your earlobe.

“Only you,” you pant. “I’m yours, Kento. Completely.”

It doesn’t take long—countless strokes inside of you, a curl of his fingers, a twist of his wrist, and you shatter. Your cry of pleasure mixes with the beeps and groans of the copier, your body shaking, your fingers digging harder into Nanami’s shoulders that he’s sure you’ve broken the barrier. 

He holds you through it, his lips on your skin, his murmured praises in your ear, soft litanies of words that has made you fall deeper in love with him each passing day. You don’t get a chance to come down fully because he’s on you again, pressing closer, pushing your panties to the side and digging his fingers into the meat of your hips. But the angle is wrong, you’re too high and the copier digs into his thighs and impedes him from getting to you the way he wants.

With a grunt of frustration, Nanami lifts you off the machine. Your legs wrap around his waist as he carries you to the conference table. He sweeps aside the accumulated debris with one arm, sending sugar and tea packets scattering to the floor. Your back hits the table, the hard surface unyielding beneath you. Plastic cups crunches and snaps under your weight, sugar and coffee creamer powder puffing into the air, settling on your heated skin.

“Do you have any idea,” he murmurs, soaking in the radiance you beam up at him, “how many times I’ve imagined this? Pulling you away from everyone, getting my hands on you…not being able to do it because I’m better than that.”

You moan as he nips at your collarbone, your legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer. “And yet here you are,” you tease, breathless with twinkling eyes that shine right through him.

He captures your lips again, the kiss deep and demanding. You arch into him, your hands throwing off his glasses—they smack against a wall—your fingers deftly undoing his tie, working on the buttons of his shirt. You need to feel his skin against yours, need to be closer, and he shudders at the feel of your warm hands breaching the open buttons, sliding up his bare chest.

As if reading your mind, Nanami reaches for the zipper of your dress, slowly pulling it down. The fabric parts, baring more of your skin to his heated gaze. He takes a moment to admire you, his eyes roaming your body like a physical caress.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs, almost to himself. Then his hands are on you, tracing your curves, fingers brushing your nipples before he gives them a pinch. A whimper shakes from you, your fingers pressing into his bare chest.

Dimly, he’s aware that he should stop this, that he’s in a public place, at a work event. But the heat of your body, the insistence of your touch, the mounting pleasure coursing through his veins—it all conspires to drown out reason.

Your hands fumble with his belt, your fingers shaking with need. He helps you, impatiently pushing his pants and boxers down just enough. And then he’s touching you, his fingers digging into your hips, sliding you closer to him until the tip of him presses to the sopping wet heat of your center, wet from your orgasm and still ready.

“Please,” you whimper, hardly recognizing your own voice. “Please, Kento…”pushing your dress further up your hips, trailing over your ribs, cupping your breasts until the skin spills between the gaps. His eyes widen at the sight, the base of his spine heating up. So many times he’s seen you like this in the privacy of your home, and now it’s in an old break room at his workplace, the consequence of you finally taking things too far.

He’s free of any feral energy as he kisses you, sliding into your welcoming heat slowly to acquaint himself again. Your fingers dig into his skin, your chest pressing into him as you adjust, the table creaking under your joined weight as you wrap your legs around his waist and dig your silver heels into his back. Soon he’s moving above you, within you, each thrust pushing you higher, each thrust fanning the fire within himself.

“Please,” you whisper against his lips, begging again for the unspoken demand of more. And even though the roles are reversed right now—you the one being teased—he gives you whatever you ask.

He sets a pace that’s just shy of punishing, each snap of his hips brushing his zipper against the inside of your thighs. The room fills with the sounds of sex—the slap of skin on skin, your gasps and moans, his grunts into the air. He cannot believe he’s in this moment, doing something so scandalous.

“You reduce me to this,” he pants against your lips. “It’s not fair.”

“I know,” you gasp, your hands pulling at open lapels of his shirt, squeezing around the buttons, the fabric groaning. “I’m sorry.”

But you’re not, he can tell. There’s a hint of satisfaction in your voice, a touch of pride. And why shouldn’t there be? You’ve brought him, the ever-controlled Nanami Kento, to his knees. He loves you too much to ever want anything different.

“I’m a good man,” he murmurs, more to himself than to you, curving his next thrust that he knows will brush against that spot you like.

“You’re an amazing man, Ken,” you moan in surprise, your hips lifting to meet his to seek more. “The best. Only the best for me. Only you, Kento.”

The praise makes him shake, the fire in his body raging like an inferno, burning his skin, breaking him into a sweat. He presses a knee into the table, throws one of your legs over his shoulders and savors the ragged way your name leaves his lips as he gives you everything.

“You feel so good,” he pants, his tongue licking the skin of your neck. He tastes the saltiness of your sweat, the sanitizing taste of perfume, the powdered creamer and sugar that sticks to your skin from the table. “So perfect.”

“Come on, Kento” you keen, your nails raking down the suit on his back. “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”

He doesn’t. Couldn’t, even if he wanted to. He’s lost in you, in the feel of you, in the knowledge that he’s the only one who gets to see you like this. Wanton, needy, completely undone.

Nothing else matters—not the party going on just floors above, not the risk of discovery, not the propriety you’re both abandoning. In this moment, there’s only you and him and the heat that’s consumed you both all summer, finally finding release.

Nanami’s thrusts become erratic, his rhythm faltering as the base of his spine tightens in a delicious way to let him know that he’s close. His hand slips between your bodies, past the silk of your rumpled periwinkle dress, gliding over your clit in well-practiced strokes and the leg over his shoulder tenses up, your head digging into the table, neck arching for him to see the flecks of sugar sticking to your neck. 

“Ohhh right there Kento. Right there. Please, please I’m gonna cum—I’m—“ you smack a hand over your mouth to quiet yourself, eyes shutting tight.

“Absolutely not.” Nanami hasn’t suffered for months just to be deprived of anything during this encounter. He yanks the hand from your mouth, pressing it hard into the table, and the shock on your face as you look up at him, the staccato of your breaths, the undeniable seriousness in his gaze even as he pistons into you, admiring the way your dress pools at your waist as he gives you more, harder, deeper until—

“Ohhhh fuck!” you cum with a long dragged out cry, your body clenching around him, walls locking around his cock to the point his orgasm is yanked from him as he falls over the edge with you, pulsing deep inside with a groan muffled against your neck.

He sags against you, both of your chests heaving against each other. He slips a hand behind you, trailing lightly up and down your glistening back as you lie beneath him, spent and satisfied.

As he slowly comes down, he presses a lingering kiss to your sweat-dampened hairline, the roots of your twistout beginning to frizz. There’s a hint of coconut from your leave-in as his nose brushes down to your cheek. So familiar, yet still so intoxicating after almost a year of smelling it. As if he could ever grow numb to the potent lure of your presence.

A ragged chuckle escapes him at that thought, the mirthful rumble making you pull up your head to look at him. Nanami drinks in the utterly debauched vision you make—beautiful brown sweaty skin, hair messy, lips swollen and smirking as per usual.

His arm tightens reflexively around the sensual curves of your waist, pulling you closer in a subconscious gesture of possession and longing. Because for all the delicious torture you’ve inflicted over the past few months with your endless parade of tempting summer dresses…he wouldn’t trade this hard-won moment for anything.

Nanami is many things—disciplined, regimented, a hardworking—albeit tired— professional. But he is also only human at his core. And you, his beautiful free-spirit of a partner, has a simply breathtaking talent for awaking the primal, unrestrained parts of him he usually keeps so rigorously leashed.

“You know,” you murmur in that velvety voice he loves so much. “The minute I realized the dress vanished from my cart was the minute I knew it would be the one.”

A sleepy chuckle breaks free from his lips at your words, the sound causing you to join in as well—a vibrant melody that coats his soul in pure contentment. Nosing closer, he peppers a line of feather light kisses along the line of your jaw. “You’ll never go easy on me, will you?”

“And rob myself of bringing down Nanami Kento piece by piece?” You snort, shooting him a look of pure, playful sin from beneath your lashes. “I might have to make sundress season a year-round thing.”

His answering groan is part growl, part disbelieving laughter as the palm behind your back glides along the elegant curve of your spine down to the bend of your hip. Ever the devilish temptress without even trying, even in the aftermath.

“You’ll be the death of me.”

“That’s a good way to go,” you tease, pulling him down for another kiss, sweet and sticky and full of promise.

His hands slide along the canvas of your body, fingers dipping into the ridges of the open zipper of your dress. He’ll make sure it’s dry cleaned so you can wear it next year. And hopefully he’ll be better prepared.

When you giggle against his lips and dig your heels into his back, he realizes that there will be no amount of preparation when it comes to you.

Thanks for reading!

[ghostlyferrettarot]

✨️PICK A PICTURE: ✨️🎀🩷What would make you famous?✨️🎀🩷

•Pile 1 •Pile 2 •Pile 3

❗️This is a collective reading, take what resonates and leave the rest❗️

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🩷Masterlist🩷

🩵Pile 1: The Fool, 7 of Pentacles and Ace of Cups.

Hi pile 1! I feel an emphatic and understanding aura from you right away. You are someone who is humanitarian, who wants to change the world for the better; you believe in fairness and equality. Your emphatic nature is what can make you known; you deserve to be hear by other's, i feel like you may have really unique ideas that can change a lot of other's perspectives for a greater good.

You are good with words and clever, use this communicative charisma to reach other's pile 1! You could achieve a lot by sharing your voice and your ideas, this could be through art, politics, social media, etc.

You have the capacity to built a community that will feel represented by your ideas and thoughts, your own "tribe". So don't be afraid to speak your mind and share a part of yourself with the world 🩵

🌟Song:

🩷Pile 2: The Empress, 4 of Wands and Queen of Wands.

Hi pile 2! You are really charming and charismatic, this could open a lot of doors for you! Something like acting, social media or related to put yourself in public is really prominent for this pile.

I see you working with others and connecting through your talents with many, "collaborations" is what i heard. You could also really like the arts, for some i see fashion, directing, styling, etc. Creating your own brand from scratch; you are most definitely meant to create something my pile 2, "you are not the muse, you are the creator" its also what i heard!

I feel like you already know what this is; this project could have been in your mind for sometime now. Your guides want you to know that you can do it, they have your back and you are beyond talented and capable to do that thing that lights up your heart💕

🌟Song:

🧡Pile 3: The Magician, 4 of Cups and 10 od Cups.

Hi pile 3! You are someone really unique, you have a different perspective that other's, and this is your strenght pile 3.

I sense a lot of artistic energy from you; you could be painters, poets, writes, illustrators, dancer, etc. You unique vision and capacity to put this into the 3D will get you far. Although not everyone may understand your craft and art, be sure that what you do is especial and you will find those who will cherish what you do!

Don't listen to what other's think and make sure to perfect your skills, focus in what you want to achieve and set your own goals; even if other's don't get it, you are the Magician and you have the ability to manifest your dream career pile 3! Be sure to shine for your true colors, you don't need anyone but yourself and you don't have to prove anything to anyone 🫧

🌟Song:

💖Thanks for reading and tell me if it resonated 💖

[iiryoku]

ᴵ ᶜᵃᶰ ˢᵉᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃᶤᶰ ᵇᵉʰᶤᶰᵈ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵉʸᵉˢ ᴵᵗ'ˢ ᵇᵉᵉᶰ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ᵠᵘᶤᵗᵉ ᵃ ʷʰᶤˡᵉ ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʷᵃᶰᶰᵃ ᵇᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒᶰᵉ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵐᶤᶰᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᶤᵗ ᶤˢ ᵗᵒ ˢᵐᶤˡᵉ ᴵ ʷᵒᵘˡᵈ ˡᶤᵏᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢʰᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵗʳᵘᵉ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᶜᵃᶰ ʳᵉᵃˡˡʸ ᵈᵒ ᴸᵉᵗ ᵐᵉ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᴬᶰᵈ ᴵ ʷᶤˡˡ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵁᶰᵗᶤˡ ʸᵒᵘ ˡᵉᵃʳᶰ ᵗᵒ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳˢᵉˡᶠ ᴸᵉᵗ ᵐᵉ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᴵ ᵏᶰᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵗʳᵒᵘᵇˡᵉ ᴰᵒᶰ'ᵗ ᵇᵉ ᵃᶠʳᵃᶤᵈ˒ ᵒʰ˒ ᴵ ᶜᵃᶰ ʰᵉˡᵖ ᴸᵉᵗ ᵐᵉ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᴬᶰᵈ ᴵ ʷᶤˡˡ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵁᶰᵗᶤˡ ʸᵒᵘ ˡᵉᵃʳᶰ ᵗᵒ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳˢᵉˡᶠ ᴸᵉᵗ ᵐᵉ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᴬ ʰᵉᵃʳᵗ ᵒᶠ ᶰᵘᵐᵇᶰᵉˢˢ ᵍᵉᵗˢ ᵇʳᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᵗᵒ ˡᶤᶠᵉ ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ

[talesofesther]

a touch of emotion

Connor x Reader

Summary: After the meeting with Kamski, Connor feels conflicted and lost, luckily you're there to hold his hand through it.

A/N: DBH is one of my main comfort games, and it was about time I wrote a little something for my favorite boy from it. If anyone would like to see more of Connor here, let me know. <3

Masterlist

"Why didn't you shoot?" Hank inquires, narrowing his eyes inquisitively.

"I just saw that girl's eyes… And I couldn't…" Connor answers back, his voice edging on desperate. "That's all."

A howling wind prickles your skin like tiny needles. It was such a cold day, no wonder you hadn't been keen on coming out here today. Leaning back on the hood of Hank's car and pulling your coat tighter around yourself, you watch from afar as Connor tries to justify his choice, even if it had been the right one to make.

He intrigues you. Because for someone who keeps saying he's just a machine trying to accomplish a task, he acts way more human than a lot of people you know. Even on the day you'd met him, he was already all curious and talkative, you couldn't recall meeting any android like him before.

Connor has changed ever since you started working together, you realize it now more than ever. He's becoming softer, personality starting to shine through the cracks as his decisions become increasingly emotionally driven.

"Cyberlife's last chance to save humanity, is itself a deviant."

Kamski's words echoed inside your mind, as did Connor's panicked and distressed expression when he promptly denied it. Ironic, you think to yourself; he shouldn't feel as troubled as he does if what Kamski said is not true.

And that same feeling now lingers. Once they were done talking, Hank took a few steps away to make a call, most likely to the precinct judging by the scowl on his face; and Connor can't stand still, he's pacing around, fidgeting with the cuffs of his blazer as the snow shifts under his feet. There's a permanent frown on his eyebrows, he looks almost… lost, his LED with an insistent yellow color and gaze unfocused on the distance.

You worry your lower lip between your teeth, torn between reaching out to him or keeping to yourself. The snow falls heavier now, and you can feel the tips of your fingers slowly going numb. You've always liked the cold, yet it seems the cold doesn't like you.

Between the snow, the frozen lake, and the white horizon of the frigid weather, Connor stands out. He's holding onto his own arms, hugging himself, and you find it endearingly human, as if he's subconsciously trying to find a way to comfort himself.

You lay your palms flat on the hood of the car and push yourself away, walking up to him before you can think things through. The snow crunching under your feet doesn't seem to call his attention. "Connor?" You say gently, reaching out to him with your hand but stopping short of actually touching him. You hesitate. When did he start making you nervous?

"You okay?"

Those warm and tender brown eyes of his regard you with curiosity, lips half parted as he struggles on what to say. The LED on his temple switched from blue to yellow and blue again. "I- yes. I think I'm fine." Snowflakes are clinging to his hair and falling softly onto the skin of his cheeks; they compliment his features, always so gentle.

You offer him a small, comforting smile. He's still figuring himself out. It was okay, you were patient.

"I'm… sorry," Connor begins again, avoiding looking you directly in the eyes. He purses his lips and closes his eyes for a moment longer, and you doubt you've ever seen any android be this expressive.

"I compromised our investigation," he pauses, "I should have been more efficient." And reprimands himself.

You're shaking your head before he's even done talking. "No, don't say that," you take a step closer to him as your heart holds your reasoning hostage, one hand wrapping around Connor's wrist to keep him with you. "Don't say that when you've made the right choice, Connor."

There was a beat, Connor's face does something complicated that you cannot read, and when he looks up at you again, his gaze is almost too much. The amount of emotion he looked at you with nearly made you choke on air.

"But… we didn't learn anything." His voice is quiet, barely there, as if he doesn't care for his own argument and is only looking for an excuse to hear more of your voice.

"I don't care," the words fall from your lips before you can debate if you should even be saying them out loud at all.

Connor seems surprised, caught off guard as his eyebrows raise just slightly at how fast and true you spoke. His eyes keep searching your face for… something. You couldn't be sure of what exactly he was looking for. Maybe even he doesn't know yet.

Your heart stumbles on your chest when you see Connor gulping and his eyes avoiding yours again. Only then do you realize that the hand you held his wrist with had drifted lower, your fingers now gently grazing his palm. His skin feels comfortingly warm and soft, a pleasant touch sending goosebumps down your spine.

It was all foreign territory to him, you knew it, felt it in the way he tried timidly closing his fingers around your own. His movements are slow, uncertain, and tentative, bordering on afraid.

How naive of you, to be having such feelings for an android. Yet when he's the most caring, honest, endearing, and gentle person you know, how could you not?

Hank told you once; "I think you're breaking our android huh." He'd said it right after Connor had gone through the trouble of finding an umbrella just so you didn't have to stand under the heavy rain, even if you tried telling him you didn't mind. And you'd taken it as a joke back then, not really understanding the hidden meaning behind your older partner's teasing look.

Yet as you hold onto Connor's hand now, feeling the way his thumb shyly brushes your skin, you wonder if he feels it too, if he's willing to feel the same as you do. If you could dare to hope.

"All I care about," you speak slow and careful, syllables heavy on your tongue. You clear your throat so your voice doesn't sound as tender as you feel. "is that… that you didn't let him manipulate you, that you followed your heart." You bring your free hand up to his chest, right on top of where you can faintly feel his thirium pump working overtime.

Connor looked to be about to speak, perhaps to try and correct you about your choice of words, yet all he does is open and close his mouth, eyes trained on yours and LED swirling with a permanent yellow color. For a moment you wonder if he's analyzing you, and worry about what he may find. His hold on your hand tightens ever so slightly; you don't think he realizes he's doing it.

"I'm glad you didn't pull the trigger, Connor. I'm proud of you."

It's barely a second, his LED flashing red before going back to yellow and eventually, slowly, blue; but you see it. He blinked a couple of times as if processing your words or how to feel about them.

"I-" Connor's eyes seem hazy, their tender brown only a thin ring around his blown pupils. His fingers now tangle with yours. "I feel-"

"Alright kids, let's go." Hank's voice sounds all too loudly as he unintentionally breaks the bubble that cocooned you and Connor. "Fowler wants us back in the precinct." The lieutenant speaks with an annoyed undertone as he stuffs his phone back in his pocket.

You're still caught up in the feeling of Connor's skin on yours, in how you're now so hyper-aware of just how close he's standing to you. Connor, it seems, isn't much different.

When there's no answer, Hank finally looks your way and gestures you over; "come on, get a move on, I don't wanna hear another lecture about arriving late," he insists, before plopping himself into the driver's seat, murmuring something about damn love-birds.

Despite the cold, you can feel a warmth coming up to your cheeks. Without mustering the courage to meet Connor's gaze, you focus on the way his hand fits so perfectly with yours. His fingers are awkwardly intertwined with yours, holding strong and gentle at the same time.

Connor seems reluctant to let go. It hits you that perhaps he won't. You could dwell on a thousand reasons of why, or not think at all and simply bask in the feeling. But right now time isn't on your side.

You take a deep breath, and risk a glance up at him.

Any words you were about to say suddenly feel clogged up in your throat. Oh, Connor tilts his head in that endearing way you're so fond of, yet the look in his eyes is one you've never caught before; you can't name it, it feels dangerous to try, but he looks as if he just realized something.

"Come on," you tug on his hand, just about managing the timid words, "we have to go."

Connor follows quietly, his hand steady on yours until you reach the car and are forced to part.

As Hank drives, you watch Connor through the rearview mirror; there's a newfound lightness to him, a warmth to his eyes that makes you feel fuzzy inside. And when he catches your gaze, and smiles, you know he feels it too.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3

You do not have permission to repost, copy, or translate my works on any platforms (even with credit), please respect.

Connor’s taglist: @milkiane@v1ci0us

[yan-lorkai]

Hi Lorkai! I really like your work! I hope I'm not breaking any rules, but could I request something?

So, Malleus hatched from an egg, right? I was thinking about a dragon egg magically appearing in his bed while he sleeps. When he sees it, he knows it's his and his darling's baby. Like, the egg manifests because he loves his darling VERY MUCH.

What do you think he would do next? Would he tell his darling about their baby, or keep it a secret? Would he use the egg to baby-trap his darling?

If you're uncomfortable writing this request, feel free to ignore it! It's alright, I understand. Have a great day!"

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/N: Hiii darling (⁠｡⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠｡⁠)⁠ﾉ~, thanks for your gentle words. Wrote a little drabble and some hcs for you, hope you like it and have a good day /night too!

It was almost like a dream coming true, albeit a bit too early. Malleus was still courting his beloved, slowly expressing his interest through his gestures and words, but he loved his beloved so much that his feelings simply gave life to a whole new being. And as soon as he wakes up in the morning, his eyes water when he sees the egg, when he holds it and feels life pulsing inside. Malleus doesn't usually cry but he cries a waterfall while he holds his unborn child. He is just that happy.

His and his darling's child. Your child. He already imagine they would look. Would they look more like you or more like him? Would they smile so sweetly like you? Would they be sassy and funny like you? Gods, he already wished to meet them. Alas, dragon faes take a while to hatch.

Thunder rolls across the dark skies as a sea of ​​feelings passes through him. And while he holds the egg against his chest, Malleus sets out to find you and tell you the news. He knows where you are, he can feel it and in a shower of green fireflies he appears in front of you. Eyes still shining with tears and a light blush over his face.

"Meet our child." He says softly. Softer than anything he's ever said, so happy that he hands you the egg to hold while he explains to you how dragon fae are conceived.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Now, how Malleus act depends on how you react to the news. He could be a doting boyfriend (and someday in the future a husband) to you and an amazing father for the child. If you are happy with the news, he's going to be delighted, already planning your marriage and life in his mind, discussing names for your child and the color palette for their room. Overall the next days he's spending each and every minute by your side.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Though the moment the child is born, all of you are going home. A school is no place for a baby to grow up, if you still want to pursue your education then Malleus is going to hire the best professors to give you private lessons in the castle. And also to help you adapt to fae society if you are human.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ But if you are to reject him or deny being the other parent, Malleus will not take this lightly. The child is yours, no amount of denying will work. You may just be scared but this is no excuse to sprout lies, a new life was born for his love for you and dragon fae needs love from both parents to exist, or so he says. He'll guilt trip into becoming the other parent and to stay with him. He didn't have his parents growing up and he was so so lonely, his child will have both parents present, even if he has to use his magic on you for you to cooperate.

[maryleclerc]

A SERIES: THE UNION OF HEARTS AND DUTIES

pairing: prince!charles leclerc x noble!reader

summary: as the diamond of the season, will lady y/n find a true match?

warning: english is not my first language, bridgerton theme, haven’t watch ss2-3 yet, took place in the 1920s era. not proofread/beta read yet

TUOHAD series

CHAPTER 1: The Diamond of the Season

The night was alive with anticipation as I, Y/N Y/L/N, stood before the grand mirror in my room, my reflection framed by the soft glow of candlelight. It was an evening I had long dreamt of, one where I would step into the world as the Diamond of the season, the most sought-after young lady among London's elite. The title had been both an honor and a burden, one that brought with it the weight of expectation. Tonight, at Queen Charlotte's ball, I was expected to shine brighter than ever, to captivate the gaze of every eligible suitor, and perhaps, to find a match as fortunate as my sister's.

The gown I wore was a masterpiece of Regency fashion—a flowing creation of silk in a shade that complemented my complexion perfectly. The delicate fabric clung to my form in just the right places, the empire waistline cinched below my bust with a ribbon of deep blue, matching the color of my eyes. My hands, encased in sheer gloves, fluttered slightly as I smoothed the skirt, a gesture of both nerves and excitement.

My hair had been carefully styled into a high bun, every strand meticulously placed by my lady’s maid, revealing the nape of my neck. I had always been told that it was a subtle but powerful feature, an allure that added to the elegance of my presence. The pearls that adorned my ears and the simple necklace at my throat were the finishing touches, heirlooms passed down through generations of the Y/L/N family.

As I studied my reflection, I couldn’t help but think of my sister. She had found her match at a similar ball, her marriage a love story that had become the envy of the ton. I longed for the same, for a partner who would see beyond my title and status, who would love me for who I truly was. But with the eyes of the entire nobility upon me, the pressure was immense.

My mother’s voice broke through my thoughts, calling from the hallway. "Y/N, you must hurry! The carriage is ready, and we mustn't keep the queen waiting!"

I took a deep breath, steadying myself. "Yes mama, I'm ready!" I called back, my voice steady despite the flutter in my heart. I knew the importance of this night, of the decisions that could be made under the glittering chandeliers of the palace. 

As I left my room and descended the grand staircase of our home, my parents waited at the bottom, my mother’s eyes gleaming with pride, while my father’s expression was one of quiet approval. They had prepared me for this moment, for the role I was to play tonight.

The journey to Buckingham Palace was brief but felt endless as my mind raced with thoughts of what the evening would bring. As we approached, the palace loomed before us, its grand façade lit by hundreds of torches, welcoming the nobility of England to another night of tradition and potential romance.

Upon arrival, we were greeted with all the pomp and ceremony befitting our station. The grand hall was filled with the most prominent families, their gowns and jewels sparkling under the brilliant chandeliers. Musicians played a lively tune, and the air was thick with the scent of roses and the murmur of conversation.

"Make sure to keep a bright smile on your face!" my mother advised, reminding me that a lady with a confident smile is a force to be reckoned with in the world of high society.

I took a deep breath, feeling the weight of her words. The carriage door opened, revealing the grand entrance to the castle, illuminated by the soft glow of lanterns. The night was alive with the murmur of conversation and the rustling of elegant gowns as guests moved gracefully toward the ballroom.

As we stepped out onto the cobblestone path, I reminded myself of the importance of this evening. My every move, every glance, and yes, every smile, would be scrutinized by the eyes of the ton. But I was ready. I had been prepared for this moment, and I knew that tonight could change the course of my future.

With a final, reassuring glance at my mother, I allowed a confident smile to grace my lips and walked forward, ready to embrace whatever the night would bring.

As I made my entrance, I could feel the eyes of the ton upon me, whispers following my every step. But I held my head high, my mother’s lessons on poise and grace echoing in my mind. Tonight, I was not just Y/N Y/L/N; I was the Diamond of the season, and I would fulfill the role expected of me.

The evening unfolded as I had anticipated, with numerous introductions and dances. The suitors who sought my favor were charming and well-mannered, each attempting to outshine the others. But as the night wore on, I found myself seeking something more—an encounter that would set my heart alight, a connection that would make me believe in the possibility of love.

It was then, as I stood near the refreshment table, a glass of champagne in hand, that I felt a presence beside me. Turning slightly, I found myself gazing into the eyes of a man who took my breath away. He was tall, with dark hair that was slightly tousled in a way that suggested both nobility and a hint of rebellion. His eyes, a striking shade of green, held a depth that immediately captivated me.

"Lady Y/L/N," he said with a bow, his voice smooth and warm, "I hope I am not too bold in asking for a dance."

I recognized him instantly—Prince Charles Leclerc, the talk of the ton, known for his charm and his title as the most eligible bachelor in Europe. But there was something in his gaze that set him apart from the others, something that made my heart skip a beat.

"Your Highness," I replied, curtsying gracefully, "I would be honored."

As we moved to the dance floor, the orchestra struck up a waltz, and the world around us seemed to fade away. His hand rested lightly on my waist, guiding me effortlessly across the floor, and I found myself losing track of time, of the whispers around us, of everything but the man before me.

"You are as enchanting as the rumors suggest," he murmured, his eyes never leaving mine.

"And you, Your Highness, are as charming as they say," I replied, feeling a smile tug at the corners of my lips.

For the first time that evening, I felt a spark of hope—a sense that perhaps, like my sister, I too could find happiness in a match made at one of these grand balls. But as the music came to an end and the dance concluded, I knew that this was only the beginning. The path ahead was uncertain, and the world of the ton was filled with both opportunity and danger.

The grand ballroom of Buckingham Palace is bathed in the warm glow of chandeliers, the air filled with the soft strains of the orchestra. The guests, adorned in their finest attire, swirl around the room in a dance of color and elegance. After a waltz that left many in awe, Lady Y/N Y/L/N and Prince Charles Leclerc step off the dance floor, finding a quiet corner to converse.

"You dance with such grace, Lady Y/L/N. It is no wonder you have been declared the Diamond of the season. I must admit, I’ve rarely enjoyed a waltz as much as I did with you tonight," Prince Charles said, offering me a glass of champagne.

"Your Highness flatters me. But I believe it is your skill as a partner that made the dance so memorable. I must thank you for that," I replied, accepting the glass with a slight blush, my voice steady but tinged with warmth.

Prince Charles softened his gaze as he leaned in slightly, lowering his voice so only I could hear. "It is not mere flattery, I assure you. In a room full of splendor, you outshine them all. I find myself drawn to your presence, Lady Y/N, more than I have been to any other in quite some time."

My heart quickened, but I maintained my composure, meeting his gaze with a calm yet curious expression. "You honor me with your words, Your Highness. But I must wonder, what is it that truly draws you to me? The season has seen many a lady catch your eye, has it not?"

Prince Charles paused, considering my question thoughtfully before responding with sincerity. "Indeed, there have been many beautiful and accomplished ladies this season. Yet, from the moment we met, there has been something... different about you. A strength, a wit, a kindness that goes beyond mere appearances. It is as though you see the world with a clarity that others do not, and I find that both intriguing and refreshing."

My eyes softened as I listened, my own curiosity deepening as I spoke more openly. "I must confess, Your Highness, I had not expected such earnestness from a prince. The world we live in often demands appearances over authenticity. It is rare to find someone who values the latter."

Prince Charles nodded, a serious yet gentle expression crossing his face. "You speak the truth, Lady Y/N. The weight of expectation can be a heavy burden. But in your company, I feel a sense of ease, as if I can be... simply myself. Tell me, do you share this feeling?"

Pausing for a moment, my gaze grew thoughtful as I considered his words. "Yes, Your Highness, I believe I do. In your company, I find myself able to speak more freely, to be more at ease than I often am in such settings. Perhaps it is because you see beyond the surface, just as you have seen beyond mine."

A warm smile spread across Prince Charles's face as he heard my words. Stepping a little closer, he lowered his voice once more. "Then perhaps, Lady Y/N, this is the beginning of something more than mere titles and duties. Perhaps this is the start of a genuine connection, one that I would very much like to explore further... if you would allow me."

I could feel my heart flutter at the sincerity in his eyes. Returning his smile, I replied softly, but with a voice filled with promise, "I would very much like that, Your Highness."

The night had passed peacefully, spent in conversation with Prince Charles. It was a chance for us to truly get to know each other, and by the time morning arrived, a sense of understanding and connection had begun to blossom between us.

The next morning, after a pleasant breakfast with my father and mother, our maid entered the room carrying two issues of Lady Whistledown’s paper. By now, we were quite familiar with the name, and the anticipation of what the infamous writer might reveal this time hung in the air.

My mother, holding the paper, began to read aloud. As she progressed through each line, her expression shifted from mild curiosity to wide-eyed surprise. Finally, she turned to me, her voice laced with both excitement and concern.

"Y/N, my daughter, read what Lady Whistledown has written. Is it true? Tell me."

Curiosity piqued, I took the paper from her hands and quickly scanned the contents. A mix of shock and confusion washed over me. How could Lady Whistledown have known such private details? I could only manage a somewhat awkward response to my mother’s inquiry.

“Dearest gentle readers,

Another season has come to an end, and once again, a new Diamond has been crowned. If you happened to miss the excitement, this season's Diamond is none other than Miss Y/N Y/L/N, a young lady from the distinguished house of Y/L/N.

But the season's drama did not end there. Prince Charles himself has proposed marriage to Miss Y/L/N. It seems the lady could not resist the undeniable charm of the prince. But will this union be one of true love, or is it merely a match made for mutual benefit? Only time will reveal the truth.

Yours Truly,

Lady Whistledown”

[to be continue…]

—

[222shivoham]

PICK A CARD: Your spirit guide's energy + their message for you.

Pile 1

The animals associated with your spirit guides are crows, seals, and other aquatic animals. Your spirit guides energy comes across as very secretive, so they may not have made themselves completely known to you. Even if you don't completely sense their presence, their energy is very protective.

I get a feeling that they are always working behind the scenes to assist and help you. You may sense them more strongly when dealing with serious situations, and especially when dealing with people, as they made lead you to the truth and true nature of others.

Your spirit may also be associated with the moon, having lots of inner wisdom and intuition to offer you. Furthermore, this guide comes across as a bit shy, but their overall energy is protective and loving. Your safety is their priority. Rainbow imagery may be a sign of their presence.

The message from your spirit guide is that they are helping you and protecting you as you work towards your life purpose. You have a lot of gifts and skills, some which may have not been revealed yet. You are urged not to let people or things push you off your path in fulfilling your life purpose.

Your guide is protecting you every step of the way. You are also advised to do some cleansing and protective rituals. Cut off toxic and negative energies in your life. You have a lot to offer, even if you can't see it now. Others may try to create obstacles for you, so be careful of who you are involved in your space or who you share your wisdom with.

Pile 2

The animals associated with your spirit guide are small birds. Thunderstorms and nature are also linked to their energy. The colors red or yellow may be important to them. Your guide has a very nurturing and motherly approach to them.

Their energy is very radiant, free spirited and full of light. This spirit guide has a lot of feminine energy, so they could be linked to a specific goddess. The priority for your guide is to help you shine, be happy, and to be able to truly express yourself.

Dancing or music may be important or enjoyed by your spirit guide. You may find it easier to connect with them through this. Even activities such as yoga, or forms of exercise, may help.

The message from your guide is that you have an innate gift or passion that you must no longer hide, but show off without worry. Your guide is urging you to pursue this passion that you have wholeheartedly. They are walking with you every step of the way.

If you're struggling to connect with others, it's because these people are not really meant to be on your path. You're more likely to find like-minded individuals to connect with once you start walking your path.

Furthermore, you may have a gift of bringing people together. There is a social energy here. You may end up working or doing something that leads you to meeting a lot of new individuals and imparting them with some of knowledge or help. If you have creative ambitions, be sure to pursue them. You could possibly show others how to tap into their own creative energies and show them how to express it.

Expression is very important for you and should not be hindered.

Pile 3

Your spirit guide is associated with black birds, rams, and butterflies. This guide's energy comes across as very serious and masculine. They have a no nonsense approach.

This guide is also associated with the moon and the stars, so you may see signs from them depicted with those imagery. The energy of this guide comes across as a mentor. There is a lot of intelligence and wit that they wish to give to you.

This guide may be a bit laid-back in their approach, so you may not always sense their presence, but when they make themselves known, it will be very hard to miss. They take themselves seriously and want you to do so as well. The Egyptian Ankh may be linked to this guide.

Your career and financial well-being, as well as stability, is the priority for this guide. Call on them as you embark on your career.

They want you to know that everything is going to work out and that they are going to help you build a successful career, whether it be your own business or within a corporate setting. Your financial stability is important during this time. Don't neglect it. Make the right decisions. Be smart about your choices.

It's time to really build upon the foundation that you have, rather than just settling. Your guide may also want you to spend more time in nature in order to ground yourself and to connect with them.