#Simple front elevation designs

[darchitech]

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[cravetive]

𝗖𝗢𝗡𝗙𝗜𝗡𝗘𝗗

✩｡ Pairings: Neighbor!Jungkook x Fem!reader

✩｡ Synopsis: Y/n didn't think testing out a new sex toy would cause so much havoc but no worries, her next-door neighbor Jungkook doesn't mind lending her a bit of assistance.

✩｡Warnings: Smut! cussing, mentions of masturbation, spanking, doggy style, sex in a public place, unprotected sex (sigh), teasing, creampie, rough sex, pinning, sex toys, sweat and other bodily fluids, a bit of exhibitionism i guess (elevators have cameras), sexual frustration, consensual sex, if you're reading this for the plot don't, there is no plot.

✩｡ Authors Note: lord give me one chance, one chance is all i need.

✩｡ Word Count: 5.k

-

“Are you using it right now?”

“Yes, it’s a bit uncomfortable, to be honest.”

“Omg! Are you in public?!”

“I just made a quick run to the convenience store for a few snacks.”

“Oh, you’re brave” Mina, Y/n’s friend spoke through the phone that was pressed between her ear and shoulder. Y/n sighed, grabbing a bottle of water and making her way to the front of the store. “it’s in low mode anyways, it just feels like I’m riding the bus on an unpaved street” Y/n laughed whilst placing her items onto the counter for the cashier to scan.  

“I've never had anyone try it out in public, this is exciting!” Y/n rolled her eyes and scanned her card, grabbing her receipt and bag before stepping out of the convenience store and into the scorching sun of July.

“Relax I’ll be home in like 3 seconds” Y/n huffed, wiping some of the sweat beaming on her forehead. Having been locked in her air-conditioned apartment for the last 2 days had caused her to forget the heat wave that had taken over the city in the last week and it didn’t matter that she was wearing her shortest summer dress because she felt like she was boiling alive.

“Okay, just remember you can change the motions and speed on the app, but I would recommend you start off slow so that you can adjust” Mina spoke urgently on the phone, but Y/n could only focus on her apartment building as it came into view, her flip flops dragging against the pavement as she took hurried steps. “Yes, yes just know that you owe me big time!” Y/n yelled into the phone.

Y/n wasn’t experimental in any aspect of her life, she liked what she liked, and she knew what she didn’t. Her life was simple, boring as Mina would describe it, but she preferred it that way, it had worked out for her, and she didn’t see the need to stray from it. which had only made her that much more apprehensive when Mina came to her with the proposition of testing out one of the new sex toys her company was developing.

Y/n didn’t like the idea at all, and she had even readied herself to decline but upon noticing the desperation in Mina’s eyes that late afternoon she just couldn’t bring herself to say no. Y/n first-handedly witnessed how hard Mina had worked on this project and she couldn’t be the reason behind its failure which had led her to reluctantly accept. It had only taken 4 days for the package to be delivered to her front door, the small box containing the pink bullet vibrator Mina had designed which was now nestled between her legs.

“I will kiss the ground you walk on after this!” Mina promised on the other end of the call which caused Y/n to laugh as she stepped into her building. her feet shuffled as she leaned forward to tap on the elevator button and She subconsciously pressed her legs together as she stood waiting for the doors to open, the low vibrations from the toy leaving her a bit out of breath.

“Alright, I’ll call you back later on” Y/n huffed which caused Mina to giggle on the other end.

“Hot and bothered already?” Mina joked which caused Y/n’s already flushed cheeks to deepen in color.

“Shut up, it’s the heat” Y/n yelled as she watched the elevator doors open.

“sureeeee” Mina teased which led Y/n to end the call without further explanation.

She stepped into the small space and pressed the button to her floor before standing all the way back into the corner, her back pressed into the mirrored wall behind her. Y/n bit her bottom lip as she watched the elevator doors close slowly. she didn’t understand the buzz behind these sex toys or this market, the bullet wasn’t even doing anything to stimulate her and if she was honest, the vibration alone was starting to irritate her.

Y/n was sure her hand could do a better job.

“Hold it!” a voice shouted which caused Y/n to snap out of her frustrated trance, she reached forward and stopped the doors from shutting. The voice’s owner rushed inside, and Y/n took in his flustered appearance as he turned back to thank her. She recognized him as the man who lived 2 doors away from her and was notoriously known for his loud parties and for the woman who came and went from his apartment. It had been more than a few times she had found herself knocking on his door at 3 am due to the loud music.

And if it wasn’t for the fact that the guy was easy on the eyes she probably would’ve already complained to management.

 His name is Chun-woo? Jungkook? Something like that she thought.

Y/n offered him a small and awkward smile before pressing herself against the wall once again. She rarely ever interacted with any of the residents in the building and today would not be the exception. She was already hot and sweaty and all she wanted to do was to get to her cool air-conditioned apartment and binge on her delicious snacks.

“It’s really hot outside” the man commented, tapping on the button that Y/n had already pressed earlier. She dragged her eyes over to his back and hummed, nodding her head in agreement.

“you’re from apartment 902 right?” He glanced back at her, and she noticed the piercing that wrapped around the end of his bottom lip, she had never stood as close to him to notice it before and for some reason it only made him appear that much more handsome.

“Yeah” she smiled, squirming in the small space in which she stood.

Within the silence that soon overtook the small elevator, she could hear the way the man struggled to catch his breath, having fallen victim to the heat wave outside. His long black hair had stuck to the dampened skin of his forehead and his broad shoulders rose and fell as the elevator began to ascend.

Y/n tried to focus her eyes on the floor beneath her and not on the man who stood there with his back now turned to her but ever so often she would find herself staring at the white loose fitted t-shirt he wore, drenched with his sweat. She also tried to stop herself from biting down on her bottom lip while she noticed the muscles that pressed from the thin material around his shoulders while subconsciously rubbing her legs together.

It was rude to stare, she knew that, but the elevator was so crammed there were only so many alternative places she could look, and he was so tall, so broad and his tattooed arm called for her attention, the intricate colors and patterns leaving her in a trance…she blinked quickly, her cheeks turning crimson from the thoughts flooding through her mind.

She opted to stare at the ceiling instead, noticing the way the bright lights would flicker subtly as the elevator continued to climb levels, and then suddenly there came a pulsation from between her legs, one that was probably already there but she hadn’t been able to notice before. Her eyes widened in horror as her mind registered the cause and her hand reached for her phone in urgency as the small vibrations from the small toy caused a faint sound inside the compact space.

“Do you hear that?” Jungkook spoke, turning to look at a very disheveled Y/n, she looked back to him in pure embarrassment, her fingers frantically searching for the app her best friend had downloaded onto her phone. 

“Mhm? Ah No, I think it’s the elevator” she giggled nervously and Jungkook nodded, biting down on his lip and turning to face the elevator doors once again.

Y/n had forgotten all about the small object that lowly vibrated inside of her, which was now causing her clit to pulsate painfully under her black thong. Her hands shook as she pressed on the pink icon shining through her screen, and her eyes scanned the app quickly trying to find the off button on the small evil little thing stuck inside her pussy.

“fuck” she breathed as sweat beads began to form on her skin.

The panic running through her body didn’t allow her to focus on the small words in front of her, no matter how hard she squinted. Her fingers continued to urgently press against random buttons, trying to shut off the damn thing but all she had accomplished was for it to change motions, going from a light vibration to full-on pumping. She covered her mouth in shock at the new movement and gripped the handrailing on her side for support.

“how the fuck- “she groaned.

“What was that?” Jungkook asked, looking at her through the reflection on the doors and for a moment she loathed how attentive this man was.

Y/n could only shake her head, her hand trembling against her phone while she tried to overpower the sensation taking over her body.

She had underestimated the damn thing, thinking all would be good if she kept it at a low tempo, who even goes to the store with a sex toy in their pussy? She cursed herself for the irrational idea.

She stared at the screen in concentration, soon finding the pulse button and beginning to tap on it frantically but the thing wouldn’t budge and soon she felt the speed increase. Her mouth widened in horror; her eyes fluttered closed as the vibrations rocked through her body in waves and soon her breaths became extremely uneven. She hoped and prayed her neighbor wouldn’t notice but Jungkook watched from the distorted reflection in front of him at how much she struggled to stay still.

She was sure the universe hated her, she must have been paying for some karmic event she had forgotten about because there was no way in hell this was happening to her.

Suddenly almost as if in coordination, the elevator began to tremble underneath her feet and then her eyes opened wide, was this a figment of her imagination? Was this a silly joke being played on her by the gods? Was this punishment for experimenting with her sex life?

The elevator shook uncontrollably causing Y/n to lose grip of the railing, she fell onto the floor with a loud thud, her bag of snacks ripping open and spilling its contents on the floor. The lights above her flickered on and off and then everything stopped.

Her heart, the rocking of the floor, her brain, and even the elevator came to an abrupt halt but not the vibrations between her legs, it was the only thing that remained as her body squirmed on the floor from the pulsations erupting from her clit.  

“What the fuck” Jungkook muttered as he held onto one of the railings, his arms strained with veins running under the skin as he was too shaken by the sudden tremble.

“Did we just have an earthquake?” he exclaimed while his eyes trailed to the spot where Y/n once stood but she was no longer there and then his eyes trailed down, where he found Y/n thrown across the floor along with her snacks. Jungkook let go of the railing and reached for her limp body in an attempt to help her.

“Hey, are you okay?” he asked, taking a step towards her but Y/n squirmed, backing into the wall behind her.

“Hey, relax” he spoke, his voice but a whisper as he grabbed onto her arm and lifted her off from the floor. She whimpered as he brought her back onto her feet, her hands holding onto his forearms for support.

“I think we’re stuck” he concluded, unable to feel the motion of the elevator beneath his feet. Y/n didn’t say a word, afraid that her attempts at speaking would demonstrate the utter pleasure she was in, and she was mortified. Jungkook noticed the way she slightly trembled underneath his touch, her eyes looking up at his in fear and then an urgency to calm her came over him.

“don’t worry, we can just call someone to help us” he removed his eyes from the agitated woman and scanned the panel at the side of the door, reaching to tap on the red button at the very end. Y/n could only focus on 2 things, the wetness that soon pooled through the thin fabric of her panties and the feeling of his hand on her arm.

His hands were big and soft, and she could feel the small callouses on his palm pressing against her skin. She had to get out of this situation and quickly, she could feel the pressure building in her gut and it was familiar to the one she always got when pleasuring herself during late nights.

She was going to come.

She should’ve been focused on the elevator, on trying to get out of the cramped space, and not on coming undone in front of her neighbor from 2 doors down while he held her. She pushed aside her current desires and removed her eyes from Jungkook's hand on her arm. She carefully scanned the floor for her cell phone and once in her view, she bent down to collect it, her hand fumbling with the device as she picked it up from the floor.

When she turned it over, her heart plummeted. The screen had cracked completely, a few pieces of glass missing, and the screen blinked in different colors in front of her. at that very moment, she wished the elevator would plummet down to her death, she gasped for air as the realization hit her that the only other option she had was to remove the little bullet herself, but she couldn’t, she wouldn’t.

What would her neighbor think? She would have to move from the building entirely to escape from the humiliation alone. What would she even say? oh, hey yeah hold on a minute let me remove my SEX TOY from my vagina…she was mortified.

Her attention was drawn back to the elevator in which she stood as a voice appeared from within the small speaker inside the panel and her heart skipped a beat at the sudden relief that someone would come to help her leave this hellish predicament.

“Sun tower, how can we help you?”

“Uh yea, listen we’re stuck in the elevator” Jungkook spoke his hand reaching to wipe away some of the sweat forming on his face.

“Oh yes sir, sorry about that the building has lost power due to the heat but no worries we are working on the issue, and the elevator should be up and running in no time” Y/n groaned in frustration, deciding it would be best to move away from Jungkook’s touch entirely and found her place back to the corner of the elevator.

“How long do you think it’ll take?” Jungkook sighed, growing frustrated with the entire situation.

“Mhmm, it should take about an hour” the person informed.  Y/n jolted in surprise, An hour!? Y/n wouldn’t be able to hold off for an hour. Her legs were trembling, and her heart was beating abnormally fast against her chest. She knew her body and she had a good 5 minutes at best.  She ran to the speaker, attempting to focus on controlling her body as she screamed into it in desperation.

“No sir” she moaned, her teeth coming down to bite down harshly on her lips as she attempted to contain herself “You don’t understand I need to get out of here!” her hands held onto the elevator panel for dear life, and she was almost at the verge of tears. “Sorry ma’am we are doing everything we can” Her breaths were uneven as she retracted from the wall, her hands falling by her sides in defeat.

Jungkook noticed the way she struggled to breathe, her chest heaving as she attempted to bring oxygen to her lungs and his eyes squinted in suspicion.

“Hey, are you okay” he asked again, taking a few steps towards her but Y/n raised her hands, her stare darkened and blurred. “Please just stay on that side” she panted, her legs pressing together once again as she battled with another moan that sat on her tongue.

“Are you claustrophobic?” Jungkook asked and oh how Y/n wished that was the reason her body convulsed in the way it did now, her extremities shaking at the feeling of the sex toy vibrating inside of her.

“I-i” she whimpered, attempting to form words but her brain was too consumed by the pumping between her legs, her hands reaching to force her hips from buckling at the feeling. She promised herself she would never speak to Mina again, this was all her fault, she didn’t even want to do this and now she was masturbating in front of this complete stranger. She leaned over and her mouth fell wide open, a loud yelp falling from within.

“woah” Jungkook rushed to her side, his hands reaching to give her support but that only caused her to shiver, the stimulation of both the toy and the man holding her throwing her into complete disarray.

“What is that buzzing sound?” Jungkook asked again, his eyes falling on the floor in an attempt to find the source, but he was met with bags of chips and bottles of water. He focused his hearing on the sound, it was faint, but it was there, and it was driving him crazy. He followed the sound and once his eyes reached the exposed skin of Y/n legs, he looked up into her eyes in surprise.

She looked back at him in embarrassment, her face reddened in shame as sweat trickled down her forehead. She didn’t have the energy to pretend anymore or to try to explain how she wasn’t a sex addict of some sort, she could no longer control what was happening, deciding that she was no match against the orgasm that would soon rock through her.

“Are you? - “his eyes looked into hers and a moan escaped her lips in response. His body tensed at the realization, but he couldn’t take his eyes off hers, entranced by the way she trembled underneath his hands. “Is that?” he gulped looking back down to her shaking legs.

“ah fuck” Y/n moaned, burying her face into his chest, the action causing Jungkook’s heart to leap out of its position. he should’ve been focusing on the predicament they were in, how it would take an hour for the apartment to get them out of there, how hot it had gotten in the cramped space, but he could only think about the girl who was coming undone in his arms, soft pants and moans erupting from her lips into his chest.

“My phone” she whimpered “Ah my phone is broken” She gripped his arms trying to regain control of her body but it was no use, she had been pushed past her limit and she could feel her arousal drip from between her legs.

Jungkook couldn’t ignore the way her whimpers caused goosebumps on his skin, the way her soft moans called upon his member to rise and press against the fabric of his underwear. It was wrong and he knew it, she was vulnerable and unraveling in front of him, but he couldn’t fight it, he was salivating at the thought of what her pussy would look like underneath the skirt of her dress, he imagined it glistening with her juices as the toy moved inside of her and his dick quivered underneath the constraints of his clothes.

“Can I-? “He whispered his half-lidded eyes glancing into hers with lust and desperation.

“Can I help you?” Jungkook gulped, his body tensing at the question. He wouldn’t be surprised if she pushed him back and screamed at him, in under different circumstances he probably wouldn’t have been so upfront, but they had an hour to kill and it almost pained him to see her like this, the toy not being able to assist her in the way he knew he could.

It took a moment too long for Y/n to realize what he was asking, it was not like she was even in the right state of mind to think over anything at that moment yet, she nodded her head miserably, her eyes shutting as another wave of pleasure ran through her body whilst she permitted him to assist her.

“Shhh don’t worry, I’ll take care of you” Jungkook whispered into her ear which lured a moan out of her lips.

He moved in front of her, and his eager mouth found hers, their lips melting as they slid against each other, Jungkook felt the warmth of her skin as she pressed her body into his and his hands snaked along the fabric of her short dress. She was so complaint, so willing and it was driving him over the edge. He responded by pressing his body against hers and she soon felt Jungkook’s prominent boner against her lower belly.

She wondered how long he had been that hard, how long was he pondering if he could fuck her…Y/n wasn’t like this, she didn’t think about these things, and she also wasn’t often so eager to fuck a stranger in the elevator. She couldn’t control herself; she needed relief, and she needed it fast.

“mm gonna take it out” Jungkook dragged his lips away from hers with a hum and trailed his fingers down to the hem of her dress. Y/n whimpered as he teased her, his fingers hovering over the skin of her thighs which were tightly pressed together in an attempt to stop her wetness from dripping down her legs.

“Is that okay?” Jungkook whispered, staring back into her eyes with hunger and she was sure that look alone was going to have her spazzing in a short moment.

He guided his hand past her thighs, his fingers brushing by the hem of her panties and hooking his fingers along them, Y/n threw her head back in pleasure at the intrusion, her legs shaking beneath her as he played with the lace material that was between his digits.

“p-please” she begged, her body trembling from the mere anticipation.

Jungkook smirked at the sight before him, he loved the control he had, loved the fact that she needed him. he unhooked his fingers and dipped his hand inside her panties, turning it over so that his palm was now facing her sensitive clit and applied just enough pressure to make her squirm.

“Fuck, you’re wet” Jungkook hissed, his lips finding shelter on the exposed skin of her neck.

“p-please” Y/n whimpered, unable to repress the longing from between her legs.

Jungkook dipped his hand down further, finding the toy embedded between her warm walls, and groaned at the feeling of her juices coating his fingers as he slowly extracted the toy from its rightful home. The pink little object vibrated against his hand, and he chuckled lowly at the feeling, Y/n sighed in relief, perhaps thinking that was the end of her torment.

Her pussy pulsated sorely, her mind clouded by the impending climax that pressed down on her gut and she needed it, she needed it badly. She pulled Jungkook closer and crashed her mouth into his with eagerness. She would often hear the screams of pleasure that poured out of Jungkook’s apartment when she walked past his door and right now, she needed him to help her in the same way.

Y/n reached for the strings of his sweatpants and quickly undid the knot there, pulling them down from his waist and then dipping her hand into his underwear where she found his rock-hard cock, painfully quivering against the material. Jungkook groaned into her mouth, his body lurching forward at the sensation of her warm hand stroking him under his Calvin Kleins.

“fuck” he muttered as he pulled away from her kiss, his eyes fluttering close.

“I want to fuck you so bad” he groaned, his hands reaching to caress her breasts through the fabric of her dress.

“Then fuck me” Y/n moaned, and it didn’t take more than a second for Jungkook to turn her around and press her against the mirror of the elevator, his hands moving quickly to pull down her black thong and throwing it across the floor. He parted her legs and Y/n watched from the reflection as he licked his lips in admiration.

She didn’t know what she had gotten herself into and she sure as hell wasn’t prepared but she didn’t care, she needed his cock inside of her walls and that’s all she could think about.

Jungkook pushed down his underwear, exposing his cock as he gave it a few more pumps before aligning himself to her welcoming pussy. He watched her arousal drip from her core, and he whimpered at the sight. it was all that he had expected and more, he slowly dragged the tip of his cock against her wet folds which caused Y/n to yelp, her hands reaching to grip the handrails for support.

They moaned in unison as he entered her walls, her legs bucking as he began to move himself inside of her. Jungkook moved slowly, patiently waiting for her to adjust to his length but the feeling of her walls gripping him tightly like his dick was meant to be there was urging him to lose control and it didn’t help that he had a full view of her ass while his dick retracted from her pussy ever so slightly.

“f-fuck me harder” she moaned, and Y/n was sure she had never used those words before, but it was all the instructions Jungkook needed to pick up his pace. He began to thrust roughly inside of her, his hands coming down to hold her hips in place, keeping her from moving away as he pounded into her. Y/n leaned her head against the mirror, her mouth wide open as whimpers and moans fell from it.

The small elevator was soon filled with the symphony of moans and skin clashing together, Y/n could feel a burning sensation building as Jungkook kept his tempo, his black locks hanging over his face as he continued to ram into her. his hand came down quickly against her ass cheek, leaving a red imprint there and Y/n screamed in excitement.

“look how good you’re taking it” Jungkook moaned as he watched his wet cock retract and enter into her pussy over and over again. he reached underneath where their bodies remained interlinked and pressed the vibrating bullet that was still in his hand against her clit. Y/n yelped; her eyes fluttering shut at the sudden action.

“Come on, be a good girl, you know you can take it” he hummed his eyes taking in the way he was completely destroying her. He removed his other hand from her hip and reached to grab her arms, pulling them behind her back and pinning them tightly together on her lower back. Y/n shrieked in pleasure, sweat dripping down the sides of her face.

Jungkook moved his hips skillfully as he fucked into her, his eyes remaining on the view of her ass trembling as his cock glistened with her juices. It was beautiful and it only made his cock pulse with anticipation. He bit down on his lip as groans poured from his chest. never in a million years did he ever think he would be fucking his neighbor but never in a million years did he ever want to stop.

Y/n felt her clit vibrate against the toy, the nerves there buzzing with enjoyment. Her arousal dripped from between her legs onto the silicone material and down Jungkook’s hand, but he kept it pressed there while he hammered into her. She didn’t know if she liked it rough but whatever it was, he was doing, she wanted him to keep going.  

“Come for me baby” he moaned, licking his lips as if he was tasting her juices in his mouth. “I know how badly you want to come” his hand came down harshly against her ass cheek again and Y/n responded with a yelp. Y/n was bent over, her tits flowing past her dress and her hair a mess, but she could only focus on the feeling of Jungkook’s balls slapping against her clit, the bullet that worked hard to keep up with Jungkook’s thrusts, and the way this man was fucking her into oblivion.

It felt good, fuck that, it felt amazing.

Jungkook plunged into her pussy with such need, with such desire that she was sure he was close to his climax as well. Y/n’s walls clenched around his cock, urging him to come undone inside of her and Jungkook groaned loudly, his hips beginning to move with a mind of their own as he searched for his own relief.

“Ah'm gonna come” Y/n yelled, her legs giving out from under her as they began to tremble, but Jungkook held her, and gave her the support she needed. He pressed her against the mirror and continued his pace, his eyes trailing to the reflection in front of them.

“Look at us baby, look how good you look while I fuck into you” he whispered into Y/n’s ear, his eyes falling on her hooded eyes and reddened cheeks. Her walls were tight and warm, and he knew he wouldn’t last long, his hand fell on her hip once more, gripping it there while he continued to drive into her quickly. Y/n couldn’t take her eyes from his strained arms, the way his veins stuck out from underneath the skin as he gave her his all, it was almost poetic and that’s all it took for her to reach the peak, her body shuddering against the wall and Jungkook’s chest. Y/n couldn’t hear anything, her eyes falling tightly shut as her orgasm rippled through her body. Her senses were completely gone as she tried to control herself and then there was a sudden warmness dripping from her core, it dripped down her legs and onto the floor.

“Fuck, you squirted baby” Jungkook groaned, his hips buckled and with one last hard thrust, he came into her quenched walls. He let out a trail of curse words Y/n couldn’t make out, too stuck on the way she had unraveled.

She had never felt something so euphoric, and she felt guilty about it.

Jungkook removed the toy that had remained pressed against her clit and threw it on the floor beside them. the bullet buzzed and jolted on the floor before turning off. Y/n blinked her eyes open and stared at the floor in shock, the little fucking thing had finally given out after tormenting her for so long, but she was too high off her orgasm, unable to find any other emotion but relief.

She turned over and looked up at Jungkook, his face was flushed just like hers and sweat dripped from his forehead as he adjusted his dick back in his sweats, a small smirk appearing on his face once he glanced back at her. He reached down to grab her thong and assisted her with slipping it back up her legs, his stare remaining on her. He took in how her chest rose and fell with each harsh breath she took. His fingers glided upward against the sides of her legs as he brought her panties back, his hands landing on the sides of her hips before grabbing the hem of her dress and sliding the fabric down to its rightful place.

Y/n was beyond embarrassed and sore, she didn’t know what to say to the man who had just fucked her literally senseless. Thank You? no that was fucking ridiculous. She reached for her bottle of water and extended her arm out to Jungkook, offering him some refreshment, it was the best she could do given the circumstances.

“Here, drink some” she smiled while Jungkook reached for the bottle, removing the cap and bringing it to his lips, taking a large gulp.

“don’t use those stupid toys anymore, next time just knock on my door” Jungkook muttered, passing her the bottle. Y/n nodded biting down on her lip before taking a drink herself.

“Hello! Is everyone okay? we are coming in to get you out” a voice yelled from outside the elevator doors. They both giggled at each other before innocently standing side by side waiting to be freed from the confined space.  

© 𝐂𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞, 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

[woewriting]

turning point (g!p)

pairing: tara carpenter | reader summary: tara calls you to rescue her from a bad date and things take a surprising turn. word count: 3726 warnings: mdni, +18 only! no ghostface au, reader has a dick, friends with benefits (?), clothed sex, language, smut in general. a/n: will you guys believe if i say the date part was inspired by a terrible date my coworker had? because it was and @wesstars is the proof of it!

masterlist

When the 7th episode of season 4 of Stranger Things started you felt your phone vibrating somewhere in between the cozy blankets. As you blindly looked for it, eyes focused on the TV in front of your bed, you felt it vibrating once again, but this time more than once. 

Holding the phone in your hands, the name “tara” followed by a small heart emoji showed on the screen with 4 messages attached to it. Pausing the episode, you unlocked the device. 

tara ♥︎ can you come pick me up? please this is the worst date ever 😭

Sewing your eyebrows together, you were quick to reply, asking for her location. 

tara ♥︎ im at the motel near the campus, green valley or something chad is showering and i told him i’d take an uber home because i wasn't feeling well and didn’t want to stay anymore please come fast

Typing a simple “omw”, you grabbed your hoodie, throwing it over the white tank top you usually wore to sleep along with sweat shorts that easily became a second skin.

It was easy to spot the building as a gigantic green neon sign took over most of the illumination of the empty street. You parked in front of it, patiently waiting for your best-friend as you sent a message letting her know you arrived. The place seemed expensive and well cleaned, unlike most cheap motels that took over the right side of the street near the campus of your college, still, it didn't appetize you to walk in.

Soon, the younger Carpenter ran towards you, sighing in relief when she jumped into the car. 

“That bad, huh?” You asked with a laugh, setting the first gear ready to go back home. 

“You have no idea.” Tara whined, turning on the heat, complaining about how cold it was outside in a whisper. “I'll tell you everything when we get home.”

“I'm watching Stranger Things.” The focus on the road in front of you as you took a right turn didn't allow you to see the indignation expression on her face, more dramatic than it was necessary.

“Is Stranger Things more important than me?”

“I’m about to find out what happened at the Hawkins Lab…” You continued, trying to convince her of your cause, but her next words made you look at her with raised eyebrows, a convinced smile of someone who won drawing her lips.

“He has a small dick.”

“I'm all ears, princess.” 

The return home didn’t take more than 10 minutes, especially with empty roads and yellow sign lights. Tara started telling about her date from the second it started, which was 5PM, the exact time she started to get ready. Honestly, none of that was necessary to reach the part that it all went downhill, but you didn’t dare to interrupt, you paid attention to every word Tara was saying as you carefully parked your car in your designated spot.

The second the elevator stopped on your floor, Tara had finished telling you about the dinner part of her date. 

According to her, the food wasn't bad, but the place was crowded and the music playing was so annoying that it became a bit too much for her. It was already hard to pay attention to anything Chad was saying as the others' conversation was caught in the middle, stealing her attention, all she could was nod and smile, like one of the Penguins from Madagascar. 

You laughed at her indignation and the small wrinkle in between her eyebrows, opening the door and giving her space to walk in. Kicking your shoes away, the both of you automatically walked to the door at the end of the small hallway of your apartment, the episode 7 of Stranger Things’ last season still on pause when you sat on the bed being followed by Tara; Jamie Campbell’s beautiful blue eyes on the screen.

“... and after we got to the motel, things were heating up and his hands were on my ass and he kept pushing me against him and…” Tara stopped talking after noticing the disgusted expression on your face as you made yourself comfortable on the bed. The girl sat right by your side. “I will not spare any details.”

“I’m seriously considering automatically deleting every explicit part of it.” You retorted, shifting uncomfortably against the headboard.

Despite the years of friendship you and Tara had, from Junior High all the way to college — where you both were right now, nothing touchy ever happened between the two of you, not even a single, drunk kiss at parties. You two were close, of course, but not this close, and hearing the vulgar words easily slipping out of her mouth was creating a weird feeling inside your chest.

“I don’t care.” The girl rolled her eyes, moving closer to you. “Continuing, Chad is gentle, nice, and it feels good to be with him, but ugh… I couldn’t even feel anything when I was sitting on his lap.” You let out a small laugh, scratching your eyebrow. That wasn’t the first time Tara rambled about a bad date, but this was Chad, a common friend, and someone that the young Carpenter had a genuine interest in. At this point, that interest had disappeared into thin air. “And when he removed his pants, he had this military patch underwear and black socks on and it was a huge turn off.”

“Black socks really do sucks…”

“I know!” The exasperated way she agreed with you made you laugh, her hand resting near your knee. “Can you believe he didn’t want to take them off? He said he has cold feet.” Her face fell against your thigh, a tired sighing leaving her mouth, hot breath hitting your bate skin. “I should’ve ran when he said that.” Tara mumbled.

Your hand naturally rested on her head in a soft petting, “You really should have.”

The brunette moved a little, laying on her side with her cheek still resting on your leg to feel the soothing moves of your fingers on her hair. The new position gave her a small vision of what's beneath the thick fabric of your shorts, the hem of black boxers peeking through. She looked away, crimson color on her cheeks as she continued the events of the night.

“But, it’s Chad, so I decided to ignore that ridiculous sock and continue.” You nodded your head. “He removed that equally annoying underwear and I swear to God! It was smaller than my hand, and my hands aren’t that big! Look.” To prove her point, she held your other hand, measuring it with her own. She intertwined your fingers together after you agreed with her, resting them both on her chest. “But I was like… okay, it’s not big but maybe he can be good with his tongue.”

“Oh, God.” You choke, closing your eyes. “I will never be able to look at him again.”

“Imagine how I feel!” Tara whined. “But then I thought to myself, he’s a terrible kisser; if he doesn’t know how to use his tongue on my mouth, imagine how bad it’ll be when he use it on my pu—”

“Okay! Let’s not use those explicit words, please.” You interrupted her, shifting again. “But damn, is that guy good at anything?”

“He has a nice body… from the waist up.” This time neither of you could hold back the laugh, the delightful sound of her laughing mixed with yours filled the room for a couple minutes, your hand still playing with the soft strands that spread across your leg. “Chad is a nice guy, but… that’s not enough for me, you know? I crave touching, feeling something. And he was so small I would barely feel anything.” Tara cried out, covering her face with her free hand as the other still held yours against her chest.

“I’m not a sexual freak or anything but I agree, at least the kiss has to be good. So that’s when you messaged me?”

“I wish.” It was your turn to sigh loudly. “We kept going and when I asked him to wear protection, you won’t believe it…”

“He didn’t have any?”

“Oh, he did.” She bit her lower lip, hand still covering her eyes as the images played like a broken record behind her closed lids. “After that awkward moment where he put it on, he got soft.”

“Maybe it was too tight or something, that can be an annoying bother.” You tried defending your friend, but the girl denied with her head, pursing her lips together, deciding if she should say it or not, but after all the details she already had shared, this one wouldn’t matter either.

“It was loose. It was the smallest size and it still was big for him.”

“Jesus Christ. I am deleting every photo I have with him. I can’t bear looking him in the eyes after knowing all of that.” Once again, your laugh filled the bedroom, making Tara look at you with narrowed eyes. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Is it me?” You tilted your head to the side in confusion. “Am I the problem?”

“What do you mean?”

“Maybe I’m a terrible kisser and that’s why it didn’t fit.” She explained, looking at you.”Do you think I’m hot?”

“Where did that come from?” 

“The deepest part of my curious brain.” Tara sat back up, resting her hand and yours on her thigh. “Now answer me, am I hot?”

“You are hot, Tara.” You rolled your eyes. “I’m sure the problem wasn’t you. Maybe he was just nervous to be with you, I don’t know.”

“That does make me the problem.” Her eyes never left yours, looking for a small sign of a lie that was never found; after all, you did find Tara hot. “Why did you never kiss me?” 

You let out a deep sigh. “Because we’re friends.”

“You kiss your friends. Amber, Mindy, and I’m sure you tried to kiss my sister once too.”

“Please, don’t bring that to the table.” The pinkish tone that colored your cheeks made the other smile. “And it’s different, they’re just friends, and you’re my best friend.”

Tara moved on the bed, sitting on her calves, still looking at you, and still holding your hand. 

“Kiss me.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Kiss me.”

You let out an awkward, breathy laugh, trying to pull your hand from hers and moving away just a bit, but the brunette was determined, you could see it in the dark brown eyes.

“Stop joking around, Carpenter.” You said one more time, her slender fingers tracing random patterns on your thigh with her free hand, feeling the goosebumps all over your skin, big bambi eyes staring at you. “Tara…”

“Please…” She cried out, the tip of her fingers trespassing the hem of your shorts, only a few centimeters away from your clothed cock. You could already feel it twitching inside your boxers just from those small touches. “I just wanna prove to myself that I can do it and that there’s nothing wrong with me. You, as my best friends, should help me with that.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you, I truthfully believe you can get someone hard.”

“Then why wasn’t he hard?”

“Maybe it was just a bad day or he was nervous, I don’t know.” You repeat what you said earlier, hoping that it was enough for the small girl. It clearly wasn't though.

“But we were having fun! He was sweet, polite, respectful, and paid for dinner and the motel, which was not cheap. It makes no sense!” She whined like a spoiled kid. Tara sat on your thighs, holding your face in her hands. “Lemme touch you. Please.”

“Can’t we just watch Stranger Things and forget about this terrible date?” You asked in hopes she would let that stupid idea go; she obviously didn’t. 

“We can, after we kiss.” Tara fixed herself on top of you, moving up. Your hands instantly grabbed her waist, before she could sit on your hips. “You know I won’t stop.”

“You’re like the donkey from Shrek.” You writhe under her.

“Please…”

“Dear Lord.” Your head fell back, hitting the soft headboard. “Why does it have to be me? And now?”

“Because you’re my best friend.” The girl shrugged. “Plus, you never let me see it.”

“I swear you have the strangest obsession with my dick.”

“I’m just curious about it.” Feeling the loosen on your grip, Tara moved slightly up, sitting right on top of it. “And I can definitely feel it.” The brunette pushed herself down, biting her lower lip. 

“Please, stop moving.” You whined, trying to hold her still, but she was determined, you could see it in her eyes. It wasn’t going to take long before your underwear became a bother. “Tara, I’m warning you.” 

“You sound so hot, you should use that tone with me more often.” Her hands grabbed you by the collar of your shirt, wrinkling it, pulling you closer until her mouth was yours. You didn’t stop her or kissed her back, but your grip on her waist grew stronger. She smiled against your lips, one of her hands sliding down your body, nails scratching your belly under your hoodie, threatening to trespass the waist of your shorts. “Can I touch you?” 

You gulped hard, staring at the brown eyes that looked soft, unlike her hands. “Are you sure you want to do this? There's no point of return.” Tara nodded fast, not giving a second thought to it, playing with the waist of your shorts. “You can touch me.”

When you gave Tara permission to touch you, you thought the girl was going to wrap her hands around your soft shaft, but all she did was kiss you, slowly and enticing, and this time you kissed her back. Your hands on her waist helped her move against your lap, grinding on you at a torturous pace. 

You wanted to turn around, change your positions so you could control whatever it was about to happen, but you allowed her to be in charge; this was all about Tara proving to herself she’s not the problem, right? So you held back the urge.

Tara’s hands moved up again, wrapping around your neck as she got closer, pushing herself down on you, moaning against your parted lips when she felt your dick pressing on her even though you weren’t hard. 

Her kiss trailed down your neck, gently nibbling on the skin there. You threw your head back, moving your hands down her ass, under the skirt of her dress to push her harder against you, increasing her hips’ speed.

“Fuck…” You let out a sharp breath, completely affected by the delicate touches coming from your best-friend, and that only made her more eager to pleasure you. 

“Do you like this?” Tara whispered in your ear, softly biting on your lobule, tracing the cartilage with her teeth. All you could do was nod. She could feel you slowly getting hard against her ass.

Licking your lips, you thrust your hip up in a strong move, making the both of you moan lowly. You could come just with that friction if she continued moaning with her mouth so close to your ear, only for you to hear it.

Tara’s hands trailed down your body once again, but this time she pushed down the elastic of the waistband of your gray shorts, in a silent request for you to remove it. She lifted herself just enough for it to slide down your legs, pooling just before your knees, the black boxer still hugging your thighs tightly. 

She didn’t want to look down, too shy to do so, but when she sat back against your bulge, it was impossible to not look at it. She pursed her lips together, the moan choked in the back of her throat as she felt you pressing hard against her. A wet spot taking form on the dark, thin cloth the more she rolled her hips on you.

It was an agonizing pain to let Tara in control of the situation. You could feel the warmth and wetness dripping for her cunt, you would easily slide in her, if she allowed you to. But you didn’t know how far she wanted to go with you, after all, this was just a test to see if she could get you hard, and she definitely could as she felt you twitching against her in desperate need to release. 

This could've stopped here and now, you were hard after all, but in a bold move, her hand slipped into your underwear, her hand holding your dick in a hard squeeze that almost made you scream against her mouth. Pulling your length out, Tara wrapped her hand around your shaft, moving it up and down in a provocative way, smiling against your parted lips. Her eyes were dark, staring at you with luxury dripping from the brownish just like she was dripping on your thighs. You could feel the hot, thick liquid oozing on your skin as she rubbed herself on you.

“Fuck, Tara.” You breathed out again, broken, lewdly. 

The brunette dipped her hand in her own underwear, eyes threatening to close as she rounded her swollen clit with two fingers, but she kept them open with a wicked expression on her face. Tara pulled her dress up, giving you the privileged view of her ruined underwear, the white fabric completely transparent. You couldn’t help yourself as your finger traced the wet stain, Tara’s mouth hanging open at the agonizing slow touch.

“Stop.” She asked in a trembled voice, shakingly holding your hand with flushed cheeks. “I don’t wanna cum like this.”

“And how do you wanna cum?” 

Letting go of your hand, she watched with focused eyes as you took two of your fingers in your mouth, sucking at the slick that coated them with a satisfied hum. Tara seriously considered saying she wanted to ride your face and fall apart on your lips, but she just, messily, removed her underwear. A thin line of arousal followed the cloth as she tossed it somewhere in your bedroom, your mouth watering at that.

Tara pulled your boxer slightly down just enough for your member to be released, proudly hitting your lower belly, before placing herself on top of your cock, the blood flowing in your veins reverberating against her clit, making both of you choke on your breath. She fitted your length in between her slick folds, almost crying at the warm feeling. 

She started grinding on you, shaking at every small move. 

“This feels so fucking good.” 

Throwing her head back, Tara supported her weight on her arms, gaining a fast pace. Your hands held the skirt of her dress up, giving you the perfect view of her shining cunt, smearing herself all over your cock. You could feel that tight knot on your stomach at that.

Moving one of your hands up and taking the dress with it, you crossed a barrier when you exposed her perfect tits, holding the stiff nipple with your thumb and index finger in a hurtful squeeze, earning yourself a crying moan that only made you throb against her center, while the other hand bruised the skin of her ass. You could see the red marks of your fingers all over her waist. 

Pulling her torso towards you, your lips wrapped around her other nipple, trembling your tongue on the hardened nub, making Tara’s hands pull on your hair, keeping you close to her chest. Her hips started to lose speed, squirming in your arms as she neared her release; you weren’t going to last much, not when she started whispering your name over and over, shakingly violently in your arms. You came right after her, shooting thick ropes of cum directly into your hoodie. 

Your arms were fast to hold her against you, keeping her body close as you came down from your high together. Tara's head fell on your shoulder, her hot breath tickling the skin of your neck, you could feel her smile. 

“You okay?” Being the first one to break the silence, you asked in a soft voice, running your hands up and down her back, feeling her heart beating like crazy; yours weren't different, smashing itself against your ribcage.

“I'm great.” She mumbled out, weak and out of breath. “Are you okay?” 

Feeling the nod of your head, she pulled away from her hiding spot. When you met her eyes, a pinkish color was filling the skin around her cheekbones, coloring the freckles that spread across her face, and unlike you were wondering inside your head, things didn't look awkward after that; Tara still had that familiar, warm look in her eyes when she leaned in to place a chaste kiss on the corner of your lips. 

“Are you proud of yourself?” 

“For making you cum without barely touching you?” Tara laughed in a proud voice, avoiding looking down as she felt your length still comfortably placed in between her slick folds.

Your hands were firm on her waist when you lifted her hips, guiding the tip of your cock against her sensitive bundle of nerves before slowly sliding in her cunt at the same time she fell back on your thighs, trying to catch her breath at the sudden invasion. A small smile on her face at the feeling of being full, her velvety walls clenching hard around your shaft, still recovering from her orgasm. 

“For the fact that I'm still pretty hard.” Pressing kisses over her jawline, you thrusted up, a surprised moan escaping her throat. “Can you feel it? How hard I am? How good I'm filling you?” 

“Yes…” She choked out, wrinkling your hoodie in her fingers, trying to find support on your shoulders when your hands forced her up, your member coated in a thin layer of her arousal before sliding her back down. “I'm very proud of myself.” The breathy confession made you smile against her neck, softly biting on her jugular before your movements gained a steady rhythm, mixing with the wet sounds and the melody tone of her voice calling out your name for every neighbor to hear.

[vanteguccir]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤQUALITY TIME * MATT STURNIOLO

SUMMARY　::　where Matt skips Tara Yummy's 1M party to have quality time with his girlfriend.

FEATURING　Matt Sturniolo x reader　REQUESTED?　yes.

WARNINGS　::　none.

AUTHOR'S NOTE　::　that is my work, I DON'T authorize any form of plagiarism; copy, "inspiration" or translation! | english isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

Matt's car glided through the moonlit streets of Los Angeles as he headed toward Y/N's apartment after dropping off his brothers at Tara Yummy's 1 million celebration party. The radio played the playlist created by him and Y/N, which they constantly fed with new songs that reminded themselves of each other.

Matt smiled as he looked to the little surprise he had prepared for his girlfriend. He made a brief stop at a flower shop on the way, where he bought a simple bouquet of pink tulips - Y/N's favorite. His eyes momentarily found the bouquet carefully wrapped and placed on the passenger seat before returning his gaze to the road.

Upon arriving at the building where Y/N lived, his access to the parking lot was quickly granted, the doorman already knowing him very well. The boy didn't take long to take the bouquet in hand, locking the doors and taking the elevator to the corresponding floor.

The sound of the keys against the front door lock sounded faintly through the living room, followed by the sound of the door opening and closing seconds later, Matt quickly taking off his shoes and resting them against the wall.

"Baby?" His voice echoed through the walls, expanding to the nearest rooms, while his eyes quickly surrounded the space, searching for the girl.

"Kitchen!" Y/N shouted back, an involuntary smile growing on her face almost automatically, her body reacting to Matt's presence.

Matt made his way to the kitchen and found Y/N with her back to him, focused on the counter as she moved her arms over the ceramics. With a smile on his face, he approached her silently and hugged her from behind, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his hands on her stomach covered by her hoodie and little green apron.

"Hi, pretty boy." Y/N murmured softly, rubbing her hands together to shake off the flour before wrapping her arms around his, caressing the hoodie-covered skin. "I thought you were going to Tara's party."

"Without my girl? Never." He responded in a low tone against her neck, laying his head on her right shoulder so that his face was facing her neck and sealing her jaw gently. "I brought you something." Matt pulled away slightly and retrieved the bouquet he had rested on the table.

Y/N turned to him with eyes full of curiosity and confusion, which soon turned into pure ecstasy, her heart overflowing with love.

"Oh my... Matt, they're beautiful!" The girl beamed, accepting the bouquet and cradling it in her arms as if it was a newborn.

"I always bring you flowers, I don't know how you still react so surprised." Matt murmured jokingly, smiling as he watched her enjoy the little gift.

As Y/N carefully arranged the tulips in a new ceramic vase, Matt approached the oven to peek at what she was preparing. The delicious aroma of freshly baked cookies filled the air, making his stomach growl with anticipation.

"Did you make cookies?" The boy asked excitedly.

"Yes! I was baking it to take it to you tomorrow." Y/N nodded quickly, returning to her starting position. "Do you want some, hon?"

"Yes, please."

Matt watched in awe as Y/N bent slightly, opening the stove door and carefully taking out the baking tray with her hand covered in the soft yellow fabric glove, resting it on the counter.

He knew he was lucky to have someone so incredible in his life, someone who cared about making every moment special.

The girl rose to her tiptoes after closing the oven, opening the cabinet above the stove and retrieving two dessert plates designed with little strawberries. She placed them side by side next to the tray before taking a small spatula and moving two cookies to each plate carefully, afraid of breaking or dropping them.

Matt walked over, taking one of the cookies from the tray with the tip of his fingertips, ignoring the slight burn from the high temperature. He lifted his own hand, blowing on the sweet before biting off a piece, closing his eyes automatically and letting out a sigh of pleasure through his nose. The way the cookie was still warm made it melt in his mouth, the chocolate exploding against his tongue, multiplying the variety of flavors.

"Is it good?" Y/N giggled, watching him with a smile gracing her face, receiving a quick nod with wide blue eyes. "Come on, baby."

She took the plates in her hands delicately, leaving her kitchen and walking to the balcony with Matt following close behind as he licked his fingers, removing all the chocolate residue.

The night was cool and clear, with the sky dotted with twinkling stars. The couple snuggled into the cushioned chairs that decorated the small space, Matt quickly reaching for the pink blanket that was folded on the small table on the right corner, opening it and throwing it over his and his girlfriend's legs, protecting them against the light breeze.

"Oh! Matt, remember the dog constellation I was telling you about the other day?" Y/N's excited voice cut through the comfortable silence, her eyes lighting up just like the stars above them.

"Sirios? No, wait, Sirius... Right?" Matt frowned, a cute look of confusion spreading across his face as his eyes darted from Y/N to the sky and back again.

"Exactly! Sirius, the brightest star in the night sky. Right there." The girl raised her arm that wasn't holding her plate, pointing her index finger upwards.

Matt looked in the indicated direction, navigating through the stars for a few seconds until he found it.

"Wait, it's actually beautiful. What else do you know about it?"

Y/N smiled truthful, her heart warming at being able to talk more about something she loved so much, without having restrictions or feeling ashamed for her excitement.

"Well, Sirius is a binary star, which means it is actually two stars orbiting around each other. It is part of the constellation Canis Major, the Greater Dog, and is known as 'The Dog Stars'. Oh, oh! Do you remember Sirius Black? My favorite Harry Potter character? So, this star..."

Matt listened intently, slowly chewing the small cookie pieces while keeping his eyes fixed on Y/N. Her passion for astronomy and the universe always fascinated him, and there wasn't a time when she brought up the subject that he wasn't willing to give her his full attention.

As the night progressed, Matt and Y/N continued to stargaze, lost in conversations about the cosmos and its mysteries.

As the last cookie crumbs disappeared from the plates and the sky began to brighten with the sun that appeared over the horizon, Y/N felt a wave of comfort and contentment envelop her body, resting the ceramics on the corner table and moving gently towards Matt, settling on his lap.

The boy opened a big, involuntary smile, automatically wrapping her with his arms and the pink blanket, protecting them from the slight cold of dawn, while she laid her head on his chest, feeling the peaceful rhythm of his heartbeat and serene breathing.

Together, they kept their eyes fixed on the sky that was beginning to take on color, the sound of the first cars on the street, and the laughter of children going to school filling their ears.

Little by little, Y/N began to feel the effects of exhaustion after staying up all night, her body relaxing against Matt's comforting warmth. Sleep came like a gentle wave, enveloping her senses in an embrace.

Her breathing became slow and regular, while her body became limp and light. Her brain shutting down and giving in to deep sleep, to the point where she didn't hear the little whisper of "good night, petal" from her boyfriend, let alone his arms carrying her to her bed, where they finally slept in each other's arms.

© vanteguccir

[makeitmakesomesense]

A Long Time Coming

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word Count: 2.4K

A/N: This is from a heinous prompt from a heinous friend. It is silliness and then it is smut. It also uses a lovely prompt from @taylorswiftmicrofic for the 9th of January, which is 'jokes'.

Sometimes, when you were caught in a moment alone with Natasha, there was this spark.

Her tongue touching her teeth when she smiled her brightest. Her shoulder bumping yours in elevators. Her dry jokes as you made it through the hardest days.

There were other times too. Crumpled in the kitchen when the darkness got too much. Your hand at the small of her back. Her chin resting on your own shoulder as you gazed out at a world that would never be the same. 

There was a spark. If you were honest, there were embers now. A gentle flickering in your lower stomach. A heat that burned gently.

A wanting. 

It wasn’t on the table, not for either of you. Maybe five years ago, maybe before everything had fallen apart. Now your lives were about solving the world’s problems not your own.

Natasha was the bravest person in the world. She was efficient too. You’d barely wrapped your head around the possibility of time travel before Natasha had organised the task force to achieve it. 

She was the bravest person in the world. That’s why no-one blinked when she volunteered first to save it. 

She dressed in the futuristic white suit and stood in the designated place. She glanced at the others and then at you. Her tongue touched her teeth when she smiled wide, she gave you a thumbs up. 

The complex machinery, that filled the room, hummed and sputtered.

And, then, Natasha disappeared. 

The fallout took its time to be alarming. 

The lights in the room flickered uncertainly for a few moments. You waited, trying not to think about Natasha being so far away, so out of time. You waited for Dr. Banner to press the button that would bring her back. 

He pressed it at last. And then you watched his brow crease in confusion. He pressed it again. And again.

You started hyperventilating when it became clear. 

So far away. So out of time. 

Natasha was smaller than people realised. More fragile too. 

Dr. Banner and Steve Rogers debated the technicalities of the situation for over an hour.

You paced the room, caught up with a need to search the world for someone you wouldn’t find.

Eventually, you heard them coming to a conclusion. It was her suit. The wires that crossed at the front of the chest, there must have been a fault. 

You weren’t as brave as Natasha, you weren’t as efficient either. Still, you did your best. It took another hour for you to be suited up and ready for the hopefully simple mission. They were careful not to change any setting on the machine. 

Theoretically Natasha had been sent back a decade to New York City. Theoretically that’s where you should be going too. 

You were given a quick tutorial on removing the chest-plate from the suit and resetting the wires. If everything went to plan, it would be a simple rescue. 

You didn’t bother pretending that it might be. 

You stood in the centre of the room and listened to the machine begin to whir and hum. You closed your eyes and opened them somewhere new.

Green.

Your first and only thought as the colour overwhelmed you.

So much green.

Foliage like you’d never seen before. A sea of large fern plants that towered above you.

Definitely not New York City. You spun in a circle as you tried to assess your location. Maybe the rainforest? But surely the rainforest would have more rain and more forest?

Your eyes quickly scanned the landscape, a view of rolling hills that were covered in the strange vegetation that you could not place. 

You heard a sudden noise to your left and startled. 

Natasha Romanoff was barreling towards you. Dirt spattered her face. Her eyes were wide with uncharacteristic panic. Her bare arms were littered with scratches.

You blinked.

Her bare arms.

She wasn’t wearing her suit. She was barely wearing anything. Your throat tightened as you registered her sports bra and shorts. You didn’t have time to think before Natasha’s hands were gripping your arms. 

Her heavy panting filled your ears as she leaned in.

‘Run.’ She said. ‘We have to run.’

You didn’t hesitate. Natasha’s grip on your hand was iron tight as she dragged you lithely through the undergrowth. You did everything you could to keep up and not fall over.

After a few minutes, Natasha finally slowed her pace. Her head swivelled around, ascertaining the safety of your new location.

Abruptly, she exhaled in relief. Then, she turned back to you and wrapped you in the tightest hug.

‘I’m so glad to see you.’ She muttered breathlessly against your shoulder. 

You hugged her back, half relieved and half panicked.

‘Natasha.’ You started unsurely. ‘Where the hell are we? When are we?’

Natasha pulled back and held your face between her hands. You stared into her eyes, realising suddenly that her pupils were extremely dilated. 

‘I don’t know how to tell you this.’ She said thoughtfully.

You braced your shoulders. 

‘Just tell me. Get it over with.’

Natasha took your head and swivelled in 90 degrees. You stared in the direction she'd pointed you towards. You scanned the horizon and tried to understand what you were missing. Your heart leapt in horrible realisation. A giant tree, relatively far away. The tree seemed to be eating its own leaves. You blinked and tried to make sense of it. The tree moved slowly forwards.

Dinosaur. 

Your mouth fell open in an ‘O’ shape.

You glanced back at Natasha. She was staring at your open mouth and wearing an expression you'd never seen before. You closed your mouth self consciously.

‘Oh my God.’ You choked out. ‘Oh my God.’

Natasha’s fingers dug slightly into your scalp. 

‘I know.’ She breathed, her stare still intent on your lips. You stared at her in confusion. Her breathing was becoming rapid and shallow.

‘Natasha.’ You tried, wondering what kind of trauma could have occurred to make her this distracted. Her gaze glanced back to you. She chewed her lower lip and gave you a small smile. 

‘Yeah?’

‘Where’s your suit?’ You asked slowly, feeling increasingly alarmed.

Natasha released your face as she waved her hand thoughtlessly in the air. Her cheeks were still flushed, even though you'd been standing still for several minutes.

‘Back where I landed.’ 

She gestured vaguely to her right. 

‘Just next to the swamp.’ She paused with obvious disorientation then recollected her train of thought. She frowned. ‘It got all sticky.’

‘The suit?’ You checked, keeping your questions as simple as possible. ‘It got sticky from the swamp?’

Natasha shook her head. ‘No. It got sticky from this huge plant.’ Her hands echoed her words with a large gesture into the air.

‘Can you take me there?’ You prompted gently, holding her hand carefully in yours. 

Natasha’s stare focused intensely on your joined hands. You squeezed her hand and asked the question again. Natasha’s eyes dragged themselves slowly up your body to meet your stare.

‘Yes.’ She said breathlessly, her thumb rubbing circles on the back of your hand. ‘But it makes me crazy.’

‘What does?’

‘The sticky stuff.’ She swallowed dryly. ‘That’s why I took it off.’

‘Crazy, like dizzy?’ 

Natasha nodded, a sudden look of panic in her eyes. ‘Yes.’ She lied badly. ‘Kind of.’

‘Kind of.’ You prompted gently, giving her hand another squeeze.

Natasha’s eyes darted wildly from your hands to your face, to your…chest.

‘Horny.’ She said breathlessly. ‘Kind of horny.’

Your mouth dropped into an ‘O’ again, and Natasha crossed her legs uncomfortably. She closed her eyes and took an unsteady breath. You promptly shut your mouth. 

‘That must be… distracting.’ 

Natasha nodded slowly, and her eyes reopened with an obvious kind of longing in them. 

You resolved to be decisive. To be professional. This was a mission. You tried to ignore the low burning heat that already lived in your stomach. 

‘Well, we need you in the suit to get home.’ You told her seriously. ‘So let’s find it as fast as possible, and try to limit our exposure to whatever that sticky stuff is.’

Natasha nodded again, lips pressed tightly together. Her jaw ticked as her eyes wandered distractedly over your body again. 

There was a concerningly loud crash in the distance. 

‘Oh.’ Natasha murmured absentmindedly. ‘That’ll be the dinosaurs.’

Her free hand moved to your waist and you felt her nails dig into the firm fabric of the suit. Trying to tug you closer her.

You shook your head wordlessly and started leading her in the direction of the swamp and her missing suit.

Natasha walked obediently just behind you. You turned occasionally to check if you were still heading in the right direction. Every time she nodded, her stare never wavering from your ass. 

You forced yourself to keep walking. You had to be the professional. 

You noticed the foliage around you darken slightly, a sign of the nearby water source. You tried to keep your focus on the mission. On the very obvious and very real danger that you found yourself in. 

You paused to determine your next path. Natasha's hands covered your ass and you pretended not to feel the light squeeze.

As you got closer to the swamp, Natasha started walking faster so she could be next to you. Her arm snaked around your waist again. You could feel the warmth radiating out from her. You could see it in her flushed cheeks. Every time you looked over at her, Natasha flushed harder.

Sometimes, you felt her hand wander downwards along your body. Carefully, you moved it back to your waist.

Eventually you came to a clearing. There were obvious signs that someone had been here before. Natasha’s eyes widened in recognition.  After a moment, she pointed to the far corner of the clearing. There, you saw the previously-white suit discarded on top of a small boulder. 

You swallowed nervously. 

‘The suit needs a repair.’ You told Natasha shortly, her arm still eagerly around you. ‘I’m going to fix it before you put it on.’ 

You tried to let go of Natasha as you walked over to the suit. But she clung determinedly on. You didn’t bother fighting it, aware now that the best thing to do was get you both home as fast as possible.

When you reached the suit, you saw it was indeed coated in a sticky golden substance. You crouched down and grabbed a nearby twig, using  it to scrape away most of the viscous liquid.

Then, you kept your focus steady, barely letting yourself breathe as you popped out the covering and repeated the repair instructions you’d been given by Dr. Banner. You tried not to worry about the stickiness that brushed against your fingertips.

You were putting the panel covering back onto the suit when it started. 

An itching sensation across your body. An itching that soon became something else. A burning. Like a thousand sparks against your skin. Fireworks. You were burning. Wanting.

You were wanting. 

Her.

You felt yourself shuddering. A sudden dryness in your throat as you tried to swallow. A sudden desperation. A cluttered mind.

‘Oh no.’ Natasha mumbled somewhere above you. 'Are you okay?'

You started panting. You couldn't remember words. All you could do was tug at her hand. The wanting was blinding. 

Natasha crouched next to you. Your heart started pounding immediately.

You could feel the sparking electricity from her proximity. As if she was lightning and you were the perfect conductor.

‘Natasha.’ You murmured at last. You heard the obvious neediness in your voice. The wanting. 

Natasha smiled widely as she took you in. 

‘Oh, good.’ She half-moaned as she moved closer, filling up your vision and your world. You felt her hands tangling forcefully in your hair. You toppled backwards against the forest floor. 

Somewhere deep down in the back of your mind, you wondered what kind of insects lived in the mud next to a Jurassic swamp. 

Then, Natasha’s tongue ran along your neck and you forgot your own name. Her lips were on you eagerly. Her mouth was kissing and biting as she made her way to your mouth.

Natasha straddled your waist as her tongue entered your mouth. The kiss was long and slow. Then she pulled back, her arms reached over her head as she removed her sports bra hurriedly. You could feel her hips moving, as she tried to press herself against your body.

Automatically, your hand found its way between her legs.

Natasha groaned loudly as she enjoyed the immediate friction of your palm. She leaned forward, her arms resting on either side of you.

Your vision filled now with her breasts. They were bouncing as she moved. A heavy softness that made you tilt forward. Your tongue found her nipple, swirling eagerly over the sensitive area. 

You felt the wetness through the fabric of her shorts. Your hand slipped under the material. She was soaking wet, coating your palm immediately.

You understood suddenly. Why she loathed her suit. Why she'd ripped it off. You felt your own hips buck desperately, hopelessly. You paused, trying to remember the way to take off the complicated garment.

Natasha’s hand tugged forcefully at your hair. Your attention flew back to her.

Her eyes shuttered closed with the nearness of her orgasm. Her hips bucked desperately against your bare hand.

‘No.’ She moaned selfishly, biting down hard on her lower lip as she continued to rock. ‘You can come later. Let me finish first.’

You obliged easily. Her breasts pressed themselves closer again and your attention returned to them. You kissed and licked and sucked. The heel of your hand pressed against her clit over and over. Your fingers moved inside her with the rocking of her hips.

Natasha cried out loudly when she came at last. Her eyes were squeezed themselves even more tightly shut.

You startled at the sudden sound, as reality crept briefly back. Then you laughed. 

‘I thought that was a T-Rex.’ You told her stupidly. 

Natasha smiled happily down at you. Her tongue touched her teeth. Her once braided hair was completely wild. Her breathing was shallow. Her body relaxed. 

Her eyes were no longer dilated. 

‘Mmm.’ She hummed in pleased thought, her hand trailing down your suit. ‘We should go somewhere with a bed. So we can do that again.’

.

Natasha was no longer the bravest person in the world. 

You were.

You waited 97 million years for an orgasm.

.

.

.

Requests are still very welcome for future January fics. More info in the pinned post if you're interested in requesting. <3

.

[girlkisser13]

zeus cabin headcanons

children of zeus

• over time, they develop lightning scars on their body from the sheer amount of electricity that passes through them whenever they summon lightning.

• the mortals call these "stretch marks".

• they have a hard time holding their breath for longer than a minute due to their father’s air-based nature.

• eventually, someone sets up a tent inside to make it feel less empty and uncomfortable.

• they have an intrinsic understanding of the law wherever they are and could pass a bar exam with no preparation.

• they can play electric guitars and basses without using an amp.

• they give off little shocks when they're happy.

• they have a natural charisma that draws others to them, coupled with an authoritative aura that commands respect.

• they are immune to static electricity.

• their personalities are intense, mirroring their father’s own mood swings. they are passionate and driven, but are also prone to sudden bursts of anger if things don't go their way.

• when chiron decided that the electricity bill was getting too expensive, he had the hephaestus cabin set up underground wires so they could extract electricity from their cabin.

• due to their strong personalities, they have a complex relationship with authority figures, sometimes clashing with them or struggling to fit into conventional roles.

• they’re extremely impulsive and quick to act, especially when they sense injustice or danger. their actions are often driven by a strong sense of urgency.

• a lot of them grow up to become pilots or meteorologists.

• the statue of zeus is constantly covered with blankets to prevent anyone from seeing his "hippie" face glaring down at them.

• they can move lightning-fast over short distances, becoming electricity in the process.

cabin exterior

• the cabin resembles a large, imposing greek temple. it is made of solid white marble, giving it a regal and timeless appearance. the building has a rectangular shape with a peaked roof, and it's elevated slightly above the ground, with steps leading up to the entrance, similar to ancient greek temples.

• the front of the cabin is lined with impressive, thick columns that support a triangular pediment. these columns are doric in style, which are simple yet strong, symbolizing zeus's power and authority.

• the triangular pediment above the entrance often has carvings depicting scenes associated with zeus. these include lightning bolts, eagles, and scenes of zeus sitting on his throne. the frieze running along the top of the cabin is decorated with intricate designs of mythological scenes involving zeus.

• the roof is tiled with golden shingles that catch the light, making the cabin gleam and stand out, even from a distance. it has a weather vane shaped like a lightning bolt at the top.

cabin interior

• the doorway of the their cabin is grand and imposing, with a large wooden door inlaid with lightning bolt designs. it has a high, arched entrance that makes every camper feel small as they walk in.

• the ceiling is a high dome with a large skylight in the center. the skylight is magically enchanted to always show the sky outside, whether it's day or night. during thunderstorms, the skylight shows the storm directly above, with lightning occasionally flashing across it.

• lightning bolt patterns are carved into the walls and furniture. the bedposts, chairs, and even the table have intricate designs that resemble streaks of lightning. these designs occasionally glow with a faint blue or gold light, especially during storms.

• the interior is primarily made of white marble and stone, giving the cabin a clean, powerful, and timeless feel. the floors are polished marble, and the walls have stone columns reminiscent of ancient greek temples.

• the cabin is never completely silent. there is a low, almost imperceptible rumble of thunder that can be heard, especially during quiet moments. it feels like the power of the sky is always present.

• the cabin is illuminated by electric lanterns that mimic the look of ancient greek torches. these lanterns have a bluish-white flame that flickers like lightning. they provide a soft, but sufficient light for the entire cabin.

• each bed has dark blue bedding, with gold trim and embroidery. the pillows are soft, and the headboards are engraved with thundercloud patterns. each bed is spacious and sturdy, resembling a king's bed, giving a sense of royalty.

cabin traditions

• whenever something bad happens to one of them, they kick the statue of zeus in the balls.

• to start each day with energy, the head counselor has a morning routine where they produce a loud clap of thunder to wake everyone up. it eventually becomes a competition to see who can make the loudest or most impressive thunderclap each morning.

• they take it upon themselves to predict the weather for the day, using their natural instincts and connection to the sky. they could even post a daily weather forecast outside their cabin door, which would often be surprisingly accurate and trusted by other campers..

• on the nights when the sky is clear, they hold a tradition called "sky bridge," where they create a makeshift bridge with ropes and wooden planks, connecting the cabin to a nearby high tree or structure. they use this bridge to sit and stargaze, feeling as if they're closer to the heavens.

divider by @plutism

[lohotine]

``Philophobia``

Shadow Milk x Truthless Recluse

(Author's notes at the end, not heavily proof read)

"The moon is quite beautiful tonight. Is it not?"

When had he appeared on the balcony?

Perhaps he had been there even before the blonde had, though only choosing to show himself now.

After all, he can do whatever he pleases in his domain.

"There isn't a moon cycle here. It looks the same every night."

But it was quite nice..

"Ah, of course! Silly me, how could I forget?"

The most simple explanation was that he hadn't. Shadow Milk Cookie was never the type to simply "forget."

He obviously came here for some reason, but Pure Vanilla currently lacked the patience to deal with him.

Pure Vanilla sighed and looked down, strands of golden hair falling onto his face. "If there isn't a reason for this talk, I'll be heading to bed."

He began to leave without a response; and for some reason, Shadow Milk seemed to be allowing it.

How odd.

Pure Vanilla stood in front of the balcony door, fixated on the silver handle.

Stunning engravements were carved on it. They were, though he only reluctantly admitted it, quite intricate. The moonlight found its way to accompany the little design in a way that elevated it greatly.

He found it hard to believe that Shadow Milk had paid such close attention to something so... pointless.

As Pure Vanilla turned the handle (or attempted to) and saw that the door had not budged, it became evident that Shadow Milk was not keen on having him leave so easily.

That explains the unusually passive behavior...

Pure Vanilla said nothing.

"Well? What are you waiting for? Come back here. I just want to talk to you."

His tone sounded like he was speaking to a dog. It was absolutely degrading, and Pure Vanilla hated every moment of it. Yet...

Pure Vanilla walked back to the railing of the balcony.

What else would he do?

Another silence engulfed them.

"What do you want?"

Shadow Milk clicks his tongue. "Oh my, such hostility! I've barely done anything yet..."

The blonde wishes to rip that blue jester to shreds... or at the very least send him a repulsive glare.

Though, he resists these urges and instead keeps his gaze fixated on the moon.

He thinks looking at his tormentor will only make him more angry.

"I was just bored. Didn't feel like torturing your friends. Black Sapphire's busy, and I... can't be bothered to deal with Candy Apple."

Ah, he recognized that name. She certainly was loud.

Pure Vanilla overheard from one of her fan-girling rambling sessions that Shadow Milk's original home was the dark side of the moon.

Well, he technically had already been aware of that fact... but it only reocurred to him now.

Pure Vanilla continued staring at the full moon.

Behind this beautiful face was a dark and cold plane of existence.

It was undoubtedly lonely...

Was that place really what Shadow Milk called home?

"Do you miss it?"

Shadow Milk looks at him, confused.

"...What?"

Pure Vanilla's gaze never falls from that ethereal celestial body. "Your home."

And though the response is thoroughly lacking, Shadow Milk seems to understand.

And he laughs at the thought.

"Why would I ever miss a place like that? It's boring, and..."

Pure Vanilla's gaze meets his own.

How could I miss that place when my other half resides here?

"And it's empty."

Not technically a lie. Everything does feel abnormally dull and utterly lacking when he is not with Pure Vanilla.

Surely it's just because he owns part of his soul jam..?

"I can imagine," Pure Vanilla would say.

You can't. Isolation is devastating.

But he took the comfort anyway. "Being here is much better. Especially since I get to be here with my other half~" Shadow Milk grinned with an impudent look.

"I am not your other half-"

Shadow Milk places a finger in front of his lips. "Shh. You've been talking too much today." Shadow Milk continued to bask in the silence, gazing absent mindedly at the multicolor eyes.

Shadow Milk feels himself staring a bit too much, but... it's just to annoy Pure Vanilla, right?

And when he moves his hand up to cup his face, that too is surely just to annoy the other..

"You've been staring for quite some time now," Pure Vanilla says. He's met only with a small hum. Shadow Milk remains as shameless as ever with his staring.

Then, he looks at the key design that adorns his robes. "So, Pure Vanilla- oh, I guess you go by Truthless Recluse now, huh?"

Shadow Milk struggles momentarily to come up with a fun nickname for that.

"I think I'll just continue saying Nilly. You're fine with that, right?"

"No. I never said-"

Shadow Milk gently tucks a strand of the other's hair behind their ear, interrupting them.

It's only after the sudden silence that he realizes how intimate the action was.

Ah, how shameful! A beast should never have been caught dead doing something like that...

"Um-" Shadow Milk shakily removes his hand from the others cheek. "The point is.."

He diverts his gaze so quickly it's almost embarrassing. Just mere moments ago, he had been so keen on messing with the other!

Why was he the one getting blushy instead?

Pure Vanilla just remained silent; watching the spectacle with, albeit only slight, amusment.

"Oh? What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong- I just..."

Got flustered? Became overwhelmed? He couldn't admit to such humiliating emotions!

Pure Vanilla slowly placed his palm against the other's, and though it's cold to the touch, he remains there all the same.

"I must say, I never thought you were the type to get embarrassed over things like this."

When had he become so bold!?! And since when was he the one in control of the situation?

"Just what do you think you're doing..."

Pure Vanilla's gaze softens. It must have been extremely lonely being trapped all of those years if such a simple action was enough to get him like this.

And an action that he himself initiated, nonetheless.

"Nothing that you haven't already done to me."

Pure Vanilla gently interlaces his fingers with the others.

How strange... Why was he entertaining something like this?

Then he brings his other hand up to the others cheek; just as Shadow Milk had done to him moments ago.

Pure Vanilla's touch was light; as if it were a ghost...

And yet- Shadow Milk's entire body felt like it was burning.

He absolutely despised it...

But oh... how he wished to remain like this for just a little while longer.

And perhaps move a little bit closer?

Oh, what was he thinking? He couldn't possibly think that this... feeling... was anything good.

And so, suddenly, Shadow Milk feels himself move away.

He can't allow himself to become vulnerable infront of someone like him.

Or anyone, really.

But especially him...

"Ahaha! I've decided to spare you of my... annoyances today. You can go do whatever it is that you wish to do now-"

He knows the other must notice how flushed his face is; and he prays with all of his soul --(or perhaps lack thereof?) that he'd just ignore it.

It was strange, though. Wasn't Shadow Milk lonely? Shouldn't he want this?

I mean, he does...

He really

really

does.

And yet, he still moves away.

Pure Vanilla says nothing as he watches the other disappear, becoming one with the shadows and escaping to who knows where.

It would be a lie to say he wasn't the tiniest bit disappointed about him leaving.

Shadow Milk; ever the lonely soul.

Won't you let him help you?

And as Pure Vanilla gazes from the balcony; hand still in the air. (Why is it still in the air? Is he waiting for something?)

He thinks;

You may be the greatest liar that this world has ever seen,

but you will always remain the biggest coward.

AN:

Originally, this was just supposed to be an X reader fic, but these two have been rotting my brain... (I said I wouldn't do a character x character, but I just love them so much!)

I really tried to capture them well, but looking back on it now, I think SMC would have been more desperate for PV'S understanding.

(But oh well, this depiction of him isn't the worst, right? Still desperate enough, I hope?)

I know chapter 8 didn't confirm that the two of them were romantic, and I understand that they are by no means a healthy ship!

(Any ship with SMC isn't healthy, let's be real)

But I just really wanted to experiment with their interactions and I hope I did the complicated emotions surrounding them some justice.

This is probably a one time thing, but if you REALLY want more, you can send me a request and I can probably make something... I have some ideas floating around-

But yeah, I understand if this isn't your thing- anyway BYE.

[Lohotine OUT]

[magmagicstyle]

DRESS (A)

⚠️WARNING⚠️: Ehm… Death? Poor Valentina?

Pairings: male!reader x The Volturi kings.

Slumbering with you in front of the mirror, fingertips of crimson.

Your hand suddenly showed weakness and covered your lips.

I made a promise to you that day.

Now it's just the two of us, no more memories.

The gorgeous and dimly lit halls of the Volturi Castle carried an air of solemnity and danger. It was as if a predator was ready to attack at any second… which, after thinking about it for a few seconds, wasn’t too far from reality. In the grand throne room, Aro, Caius, Marcus, and you sat upon your elevated thrones, the kings' expressions unreadable but their sole presence was commanding. 

You, on the other hand, were simply... bored. So bored that you silently wished for anything remotely interesting to happen. As if the universe had heard your plea, the silence was broken by the faint sound of approaching footsteps—Valentina, the new human secretary of your mates, cautiously making her way forward. Valentina was pretty and quiet as a mouse, which was perfect since the sole reason why she had been chosen for the job was her beauty and obedience to the kings. Of course, now her beauty was being tainted by her harsh actions, her hands were trembling to the point the delicately designed envelope she carried was shaking in her hold and her steps were clumsy and rash, the heels of her shoes making unpleasant noises against the floor.

The candlelight flickered as she stepped closer, her hands trembling as she held out a silver tray with an ornate envelope resting on top. The details glimmering softly as Valentina handed it to Aro. Your mate’s pale and slender fingers brushed the edges of the paper as he accepted it with a peculiar and a bit unnerving smile. You sighed, already knowing this wasn’t going to be the distraction you had hoped for. After all, Aro’s smile was obviously fake… The amusement didn’t even reach his crimson eyes. You hated that smile—the one he faked so well, masking whatever real thoughts lurked beneath.

“What do we have here?” Aro mused, his voice smooth as silk but edged with amusement.

Valentina swallowed hard, clearly aware of the weight of her position. “An invitation, Master Aro,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

You shifted in your seat, watching as he opened the envelope with care, sliding the card out and carefully inspecting its contents.. The wax seal bore an emblem you recognized instantly—the Cullens. You were able to glance at the invitation over Aro’s shoulder and… you had to give it to them, the Cullens had always been meticulous in their presentation and aesthetic, and this was no exception. Still, your stomach twisted slightly, though you forced yourself to remain expressionless.

“Ah,” Aro murmured, his voice as soft and smooth as always, though an undertone of curiosity laced his words... that was new. Your mate’s lips curved into a faint smile as he read the words silently. “Edward and Bella…” Aro said in a breathy whisper. “It appears our dear friends in Forks have something to celebrate.” He added, looking at his brothers and you from his seat.

Caius scoffed from his throne, his irritation barely contained. “What nonsense have they devised this time?”

Aro’s crimson eyes scanned the paper, and a slow, almost amused chuckle left his lips. “A wedding… how delightful!”

Silence stretched across the room. Marcus, ever the quiet observer, barely reacted. You, however, felt something cold settle in your chest.

Edward.

Of course, it was fucking Edward.

You leaned back, folding your arms as Aro passed the invitation between his fingers. He didn’t look at you, but you knew he was aware of the storm brewing beneath your calm facade. Was it with the Cullens and being unable to follow simple instructions? Seriously, it was quite predictable at this point. Tell the Cullens to follow a rule or do something, they’ll ignore it and try to avoid the consequences of their actions. 

Caius’ piercing eyes narrowed at the card in Aro’s hands and then looked at his brother with distaste. “Delightful? No, Aro, this is a declaration, a way to announce her future union even if she’s still a human… This-” he motioned angrily towards the card and opened his mouth to continue but found his disdain too strong to continue.

“This is a way of mocking the Volturi, my king… they are mocking us for giving them another chance and they are making it obvious by daring to invite us to this union…”  You finished, expression twisting with anger.

Marcus, looking at your and Caius’ anger, and Aro’s amusement, decided to be the voice of calmness, trying to help you relax. He glanced disinterestedly at the card before closing his eyes for a second. “This hardly changes something…” He murmured, voice barely above a whisper, hoping to help to relax the tension in the room. 

Aro tilted his head, his expression thoughtful as his eyes flickered between the card in his hands and your mates and yourself. “Ah, but it gives us an insight into their plans… doesn’t it?” he said, his tone playful, though it carried an edge of something dangerous, something you couldn’t quite place just yet. Seeing you stretching your hand towards him, he handed the invitation to you, letting you snatch it with a bit of irritation.  

“Do they truly believe they can ignore our authority this way?” Caius snarled, voice dripping with anger and venom. 

“Love, you know the Cullens… as usual, they think their happy union absolves them of their obligations and responsibilities…” You said towards Caius, trying to decide if you were feeling angry over their disregard of the rules or if, at this point, you were bored of how predictable they were. 

Aro rose slowly from his throne, his graceful movements echoing centuries of refinement and control. His expression turned contemplative as he turned around and glanced at his brothers and you. “Let us not act rashly…” He started, showing a smile that hid a sharp edge. “There is still time to see if the Cullens uphold their word… After all, the turning of Bella could be the same night of the wedding or even before the ceremony… And well, if they do not comply with the rules…” Finally, Aro’s eyes showed the playful and dangerous gleam that promised a dark future for the Cullens. “Then we shall remind them of the cost of defiance.”

It seemed that his words placated Caius’ anger, because your strong mate showed a sharp smile and relaxed in his throne for a second before standing up. Marcus, letting out a sigh, also got out of his throne and offered you his hand, helping you up. The four of you started to leave the room, strides regal and silent against the marble floors.

Behind your group, Valentina, the human secretary, stood frozen in her place, eyes wide and darting nervously around the chamber. She had done her job, while clumsily, and delivered the invitation as instructed, but now she remained a trembling mortal among the immortal predators in the room. Valentina was a good secretary, you liked her a bit, sadly, your mates weren’t so fond of her and with her being the one to deliver not so pleasant news… Well. 

Aro’s voice, soft but chilling, drifted back to the room while the group was walking out. “Dispose of her,” he said, not even looking at the human woman inside, almost as an afterthought. 

Your gaze snapped to her just in time to see her knees buckle. The tray clattered to the floor, and before she could even process what was happening, the Volturi guards emerged from the shadows of the room - silent, efficient, dangerous, and utterly devoid of any sight of mercy, gripping her arms in an unyielding hold.

Aro tutted, stepping toward her with a slow, almost gentle movement. “Dear Valentina,” he murmured, “such fragile creatures, humans.”

Valentina trembled violently, her pleading eyes darting between you and the kings, begging for something—mercy, perhaps. But you remained still, knowing how these things played out. There was no saving her. Your mates, unlike you, didn’t spare her another glance. Sure, her fate was sealed from the moment she entered the room with that invitation, but still, you would look at her and do your best to remember the poor girl that had lived a couple of months among you.

“You have served well,” Aro continued, “but you’ve seen too much.”

Her lips parted, but no sound came out.

Aro’s smile returned, warm and deceptive. “Don’t worry, dear one. This will be quick.”

And after those words, she barely had time to let out a choked gasp before she was whisked away to an adjoining chamber, where the pile of lifeless bodies of her predecessors awaited. The last thing you saw was her tear-filled eyes while the guards took her away.

You would save her if you could, but even as the kings’ mate, you could never deny or defy their authority, not in front of the other vampires… to do so, it would make your mates look as weak and unreliable, and that wasn’t something they could afford. 

The room fell silent once more, the faint scent of Valentina’s blood lingering in the air, and with that, you turned around and followed the kings out of the room. While walking, you kept listening to the murmurs of your mates’ discussion in the distance, their soft and velvety voices echoing faintly through the cold, stone corridos. Now, the question lingered, what would the Cullens do next? 

I'll listen to boring songs and stare out the window

I'll put on a dress and I'll dance for you.

Tell me if I'm mad.

Someday the wind will carry me away.

Now we're two people I can't remember

In the breathtaking halls of the Volturi castle, every step taken by Carlisle, Jasper, Emmett, Rosalie, and Esme resonated with a mixture of trepidation and resolution. Bella, Edward and Alice weren’t there, not willing to risk putting Bella in front of the Kings again, especially not after the horrible situation they were subjected to before. Besides, Alice wanted Bella to concentrate on her future wedding, the little vampire had managed to take control of all the planning, but she was still trying to get the human to be more involved. After all, this was the end of her life like she knew it and the start of the new life she had dreamed of for so long. In the castle, the atmosphere was thick with the weight of impending revelation and request, as well as clung to the air as they approached the thrones where the formidable triumvirate of Aro, Caius, and Marcus sat in judgement, you, sitting by their side, waited the right moment to attack. You knew that the Cullens would do something stupid. In fact, you expected it. You were almost begging them to give you the chance to put them in their place.

As the Olympic coven advanced towards the throne room, the ghosts of past events hovered over them like spectres. The memory of Edward's betrayal and foolish actions, as well as Bella’s reckless behaviour, made a fissure in their familial bond, and it loomed large in their collective consciousness. After all, even if they were part of the same family, there were moments when they didn’t support or like Edward’s decisions. It was in that moment that they remembered the burden of concealing the harsh truth from you, that they remembered how they broke the heart of one of their own and in consequence, pushed you away with their indifference and careless actions. It was in their blindness that they hurt you in ways they couldn’t begin to comprehend and it was that what gnawed at their conscience, forming a silent undercurrent beneath their outward composure.

The vampires of the Olympic coven entered the grand chamber, or the room of judgement -as some liked to call it- where the three Kings and you awaited with keen scrutiny. It was under their harsh and bloodied eyes that the Cullens couldn't escape the echo of their past actions. Still, Aro, always the good and charismatic host, greeted them with a polite smile, though a flicker of a mischievous gleam danced in his eyes.

"Welcome Carlisle, my dear friend, I see that you brought part of your family…" Aro's velvety voice resonated, masking a subtle wariness. "To what do we owe the pleasure of your visit?"

Carlisle, always willing to act like the paragon of reason and compassion, stepped forward, trying to show his demeanour as poised yet respectful. "Aro… my lords, we have come to inform you of a significant development among our family members," he began, his gaze briefly meeting those of Jasper, Emmett, and Rosalie, who shared the weight of this revelation. They weren’t sure if this was the right course of action, knowing how changing and hidden Aro’s emotions could be, this news could work in their favour or against them. Sure, Marcus was there to be the voice of reason, the king being one of the most compassionate and disinterested in the actions of his fellow vampires, but, Caius was also there, the king being prone to anger and violent reactions, the news could irk him and in consequence, he would push the turning date for Bella closer to the present, something they were trying to avoid… and you… Sure, legally you didn’t have any power just yet. Still, the kings were willing to hear your opinions and usually accepted your judgement over different situations, so if you decided to get rightful revenge, nobody could ensure the Cullen's safety. 

Rosalie, uncharacteristically direct, stepped into the spotlight with a hint of defiance in her voice. Sure, she didn’t want to be there, not wanting to help Edward ruin a girl’s life by turning her into the monster they were, but still, she couldn’t find in herself to be quiet and just let the kings toy with her family. "Edward and Bella are planning to marry," she declared, her eyes betraying a glimmer of frustration at the idea of the impending wedding. She didn’t support this marriage, not only because she hated the idea of Bella giving up her youth, life and capacity of having children for a lonely and cold life as a monster always running and never having a normal relationship, but because she hated how Edward had broken your heart, just to chase after a teenager. 

The mention of Bella's name drew a subtle disapproval from Marcus, the usually impassive expression on his face showing a flicker of discomfort. Sure, he was the calmest of his brothers and he usually never cared too much for anything but that had changed with your arrival to the castle, he was more involved now, more caring and well, even if he wanted to hide it, he got angry now, especially when it was related to someone that hurt you. So, he, understanding the pain that Bella's involvement had caused you, was a bit upset about hearing about the girl’s life. Not only that, but he was aware of the fact that your pain was only adding another layer of complexity to an already intricate situation.

Caius, with his penetrating eyes and composed demeanour, regarded them intently. "Yes… we received the invitation… what does this have to do with us?" he inquired with an arched brow, a hint of scepticism lacing his words. He didn’t care for a wedding, he was just thinking about the fact that Bella was still human and that the Cullens had less time to follow their ruling. He also knew that behind Aro’s playful smile and Marcus’ lack of interest, they were a bit annoyed by the fact that the Cullens seemed to be doing whatever they wanted. Especially after you so kindly offered them the chance to redeem themselves. The Cullens were being reckless, acting like they could do anything and be free of any type of punishment. Sure, Carlisle was an old friend and that gave him certain liberties that  not every vampire was entitled to but that wasn’t an excuse to act like he owned the place. 

Carlisle took -an unnecessary, but more emotional than anything- deep breath, a sense of responsibility guiding his words. "My lords, Bella's transformation has been scheduled, and, as you know, the wedding is set to take place soon," he explained. "We understand the implications of our actions and the consequences they bear… but we wanted to ask for more time."

As soon as you heard Carlisle’s words you couldn’t help but seethe with anger. How dare they? How could they be so shameless to ask for more chances after the special treatment that the Vulturi had given them until now? Not only that but it felt almost like a joke, choosing the date set as a limit for Bella’s transformation as the wedding date. It felt like a way to mock the Vulturi. You couldn’t help but let out a soft unhappy sound. It was really quiet, but still, it pushed the Cullens to look at you with apprehension. 

Our smile remained gorgeous but his eyes betrayed a clean of dysplasia well you can never lie with your eyes so it was obvious that he wasn't pleased with the reasons behind this reunion. “ you don't realize that you're behind schedule correct?”   he reminded Carlisle and the other Cullens.  it was obvious that Arrow was quite satisfied being the one making that question. “ you promised that Bella was going to be turned in a year and now it would be longer than what we agreed originally…”  

You lifted your hand and looked at your former family. If you didn't know them you will be confused and maybe even shocked… But you knew them do you understand the way they thought and they try to change the rules every time they didn't get what they wanted so you can help but feel resentful and angry. Sure! You were also a bit proud of their audacity. After all, no other vampire family would dare to ask for a second chance or try to change the rules that the Vulturi had previously established. 

Still, the pride could disappear, the anger, on the other side… Oh, the anger stayed present.. how dare they? How could they come here, asking for an extension without even considering the political ramifications of what they were asking from the kings and you?  “I must say that we are quite surprised by the fact that you invited us to a ceremony that is going to be on the same date we agreed for young Bella's transformation… huh, it’s funny, right?” 

You made a pause almost letting your words sink the mind of the people that were around you. “ it's almost like you are trying to portray the idea that we are accepting this Union between a vampire and a human it's almost like you're trying to make it seem like you are winning some type of internal war between our covens…”  you showed a sharp smirk towards the Cullens. “ even though there's no conflict we made a rule we reach an agreement between our families and accepted but now you want to change everything so, it's quite funny that you are trying to push us to make exactly what you wanted from the start…” 

Emmet’s jaw tightened, showing his tension. Your teddy bear of an older brother was clearly uncomfortable with the whole situation. Still, he was trying to help his father and Edward. Always the one willing to face any danger to protect his family. “We are aware of the timing…” He answered, and even if he was supposed to be talking to the kings, he didn’t stop looking directly into your eyes. 

“We are also aware that we are asking for much, still, please understand, we faced some unexpected issues that stopped the preparations for Bella’s turning… That’s why we came here to ask for more time now that everything has returned to normal… We will follow the instructions given before, but… please… we are just asking for a couple of months just a couple of months they will have the ceremony they will get married and on their honeymoon, Bella is going to be turned into a vampire.”

Jasper, your poor brother, the empathetic soul among the Cullens. You didn’t feel any resentment against him, you knew that he was desperate to be accepted by the Cullens and that he always thought himself weak because he was the newest member of the coven. It was clear that Jasper endeavoured to appeal to the king’s sense of understanding, to try to make them look like simple victims of the circumstances. “Please, we have come here to ask for your mercy and comprehension, we are just asking for a couple of months just a couple of months they will have the ceremony they will get married and on their honeymoon, Bella is going to be turned into a vampire…” 

The air in the throne room grew thick with the weight of unspoken words. They were asking for more time, for a second chance. It was obvious that the emotional fallout between you and the Cullens was something Carlisle and Edward didn’t think would affect this request. It was obvious that they didn’t realise the pull and power you had on your mates.

Fools. 

Why am I like the wind, like the clouds

Why don't I have wings that float to the sky?

Like the stars, like the moon, that wrap everything in their embrace

Like the stars, like the moon, that encompass everything…

[vincentvalenfine]

Intruder

There’s an intruder in the Shinra Manor. The guard dog awakens to deal with them as he’s supposed to, but instead finds himself intrigued… and with some pent-up frustration to relieve.

vincent valentine/afab!reader MDNI, 18+, nsfw word count: 8222 warnings: explicit piv intercourse, clothed sex (ok well... vincent is clothed at least) read also on ao3!

The muffled sound of the alarm buzzed in such a grating way that even Vincent Valentine couldn’t ignore it, especially considering it was designed specifically to make him get up. Brow wrinkling with displeasure, he feigned deafness for a few moments more before heaving an aggravated sigh, opening his eyes to the welcoming darkness within his coffin. It didn’t last as he pushed the lid up and off, but at least the yellowed lights were easy on his eyes while he sat up and looked to the monitors off in the corner where the obnoxious alarm sounded from. Looked like someone just coming down from the upper level into the basement, a single intruder. That should be simple enough to head off at the pass and he might not even have to fire a single shot if he played up his flair for looming and looking foreboding.

With a weary sigh he rose from the coffin and left the lid leaning against it, easily reachable once he could return to his slumber.

Knowing exactly where to place himself to catch them off-guard, he paced silently from his room and across the open expanse of what used to be a more useful space. These days it served best as a cage for when the Beast grew too restless.

To the elevator door he stalked, placing himself in front of it and crossing his arms as he waited for it to come to a halt. Whoever the intruder was wouldn’t be able to take more than a single step out before he confronted them, and if they sought a conflict, well… taking care of them would be a simple matter. He probably wouldn’t even have to get violent. Which was good, because sleep still hung over his shoulders just as his cloak did, wanting nothing more than to let oblivion pull him back under.

The door opened.

-

Nibelheim was buried in snow, and you were half-frozen to death looking for any kind of shelter to escape your icy fate. With the wind rushing all around you and flurries of snowflakes blocking your vision further than a few yards, you’d begun to lose hope of surviving when out of the endless white rose a mansion. Decrepit, looming, an unwelcoming visage… but your best hope of hunkering down until the storm passed. There was a wrought iron gate standing in your way, but luckily it didn’t appear to be locked and you managed to shove it open just enough to slip past its bars.

It really would’ve paid to be better prepared for your trip, but then you hadn’t really bothered to check the weather forecast for the Nibel region before planning your great expedition. You were paying for it now of course, trudging through the snow in thin pants that had done nothing aside from collect ice that would melt and soak them through as soon as you were warm enough. Your shirt wasn’t much better, nor was the light jacket. Really, it was a miracle you were able to make the final few steps up to the front door and throw all your weight into getting inside.

As the heavy door creaked open on rusty hinges, you stumbled forward and took a deep breath of moderately warmer air in relief, then fell into a fit of sneezing at all the dust that assailed you. This place reeked of stagnation and decay… but the interior was still strangely beautiful. The design spoke of opulence and old money: hardwood flooring and a high ceiling well-decorated with wood carving and chandeliers, not to mention the second floor balcony there to greet you with an angelic statue perched front and center, though the stairs were blocked with debris. You didn’t exactly want to go up there anyway - what you needed was to find somewhere warm enough that the threat of hypothermia would go away, you could strip your miserable outfit off, and maybe if you were lucky would have clothing or a bed for you to rest on until the weather got itself back in check.

A moment spent closing the door firmly behind you, and then you wandered carefully, taking in the air of abandoned elegance as you went. Piles of books, a dining table halfway dressed but with only a few cups long since emptied of any contents other than dust - it was all left to rot or gather that dust, and as you began to warm up your weariness was lifted somewhat by a sense of curiosity. What sort of mystery was behind a place like this? Why had it been abandoned for what had to be decades at this point, if the thick veneer of dust all over was any indication?

Your curiosity was further piqued when you spotted something out of place: an elevator door, hidden near the back, and a glowing red panel that indicated there was power. Approaching cautiously, you hesitated before giving it a push. It beeped, and the door slid open.

A working elevator in an otherwise abandoned mansion? Oh, this was getting more and more insane, but the irresistible pull of curiosity was too much to resist; you stepped into the elevator, contemplated the two buttons, then pressed the down button with a shrug. All the dirty dark secrets would probably be hidden in the basement, or else you’d find a dingy little wine cellar. Some alcohol would make you feel warmer, at least.

The ride was smooth, but your clothes were soggy by now and you couldn’t help shivering, arms clasped tight around you to try and retain a bit of heat. Maybe prioritizing a bedroom would’ve been a better idea, but too late: the doors opened, and you took a single step out before coming face to face with a man.

Oh… pretty.

He stared at you, looking perplexed, as if he’d just been about to take the elevator himself and was surprised to find another human being here in his way. You blinked a few times, opened your mouth, then closed it. What were you even going to say? ‘Sorry for wandering into your basement in the middle of a snowstorm?’ That would totally go over well.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said. His voice was smooth and deep, and the implication that you needed to turn around and get back on the elevator flew right over your head as you shivered violently instead. He was probably right and you were likely breaking and entering, but your body was no longer listening to you, and your shivers continued right up into the teetering little step you took that had you crumpling to the floor, only to be caught by a gloved hand on your shoulder, a tempered measure of strength in the grip that now kept you upright for the moment.

“S-s-s-s-sorry,” was the only word you could push through chattering teeth, and then your chilled body gave out entirely, leaving the stranger to catch you with his other hand as well.

-

That didn’t even go a little bit according to plan. Vincent found himself first surprised, then confused, then annoyed in rapid succession at how the interaction had played out, and now the only semi-conscious intruder practically dangled from his grasp, a cold even he could feel seeping through his gloves that spoke of the weather outside likely being dreadful as it always was this time of year. A snowstorm would drive a person to seek shelter in the most rundown of buildings, but it didn’t explain why the intruder had used the elevator and chosen to come to the basement of all places. Curiosity, probably…

His lip wrinkled just a little at how thin the clothes before him seemed to be. Certainly not the kind of clothing that would help someone stay warm and dry - they looked sodden to him, and he had no doubt hypothermia would claim them if action wasn’t taken. Therein lay the crux of the matter.

Stop intruders, by force if necessary, and protect Shinra property. Those were his orders, generally speaking. In theory he had already stopped this intruder, or at least the weather had done most of the work for him. But… stop didn’t imply he had to kill, or let someone die for that matter. And someone so underprepared for something as easy to check as the weather probably wasn’t looking for data or valuables to steal. Probably just a very lost traveler.

His eyes roved again, the thin clothing before him doing little to hide the intruder’s figure. In the back of his mind an old drive stirred, forcing him to hastily cast his gaze away - without thinking about it, he turned with the intruder still in hand and started back towards his room. He would have to look and see if he had anything remotely suitable to replace such a sad outfit.

-

Dazed from the cold, just staying awake at the moment was a struggle, so you didn’t even have the energy to protest as you were suddenly carried off by the man - further into the basement? But he’d just said you should leave? Maybe he changed his mind.

The open space he carried you across was poorly lit and made you want to close your eyes all the way, but you forced yourself to keep them halfway open so you could at least figure out if he was taking you somewhere like a pit of spikes to toss you into. That would be a pretty ignominious end, and you’d like to at least be prepared to try and make a break for it if that was the case.

But instead it was into a room with warm, yellow light suffusing its interior, the doors hissing shut behind the man as he continued walking. Finally, he sat you on a hard surface of some kind, a table you thought as your legs were still dangling off the ground, and swept his eyes over you briefly before glancing away as if embarrassed. Right… your clothes were pretty wretched: soaking wet, icy cold, and plastered to your body like an attempt to win a wet T-shirt contest. His hands were still at your shoulders, and were definitely the only thing keeping you from falling over right now.

“You need to remove those clothes,” he spoke with that low velvet voice of his again, a brief clearing of his throat as if he wasn’t used to talking. “You will die of hypothermia otherwise.”

Right, that was a real risk. You managed a weak nod of your head, and thoughtlessly began trying to unbutton your shirt, though your numb, fumbling fingers could barely even hang onto the buttons to begin with. The man looked disgruntled as he glanced back to see your attempt, and then in one swift motion he batted your hands aside with his own, leaving the… was that a gauntlet? You hadn’t even noticed the golden armor clasped around his left hand before. It remained on your shoulder to keep you from falling while his right hand in a much simpler black glove deftly unbuttoned the shirt one-handed almost too briskly, like he was worried about the connotations of undressing a stranger out of the blue.

“Th-th-thanks,” you mumbled as coherently as you could muster.

Was it just you, or did he seem to hesitate just a second or two? The moment passed by too swiftly before he slid your shirt and jacket both off your shoulders, then stared at the bra before him in seeming consternation. It was definitely soggy and cold as well, but he appeared to be having a crisis of modesty at the moment.

“Just t-t-take it off.”

He started slightly at the words you managed to force out, and for a second you thought he might’ve started blushing before his hand slipped around behind and smoothly unhooked the back as if he’d done it a dozen times before. Maybe he had. Maybe this was his secret dungeon for luring in unlucky ghost hunters and lost travelers to seduce and ravish before killing them and eating the bodies for dinner.

Or maybe your cold-addled brain was just being absurd. Very high possibility.

His hand slipped the bra off your shoulders with carefully averted eyes and next dropped to your pants. While the button and fly were easy for his obvious dexterity, pulling off pants was clearly a two-handed job and he was hesitating again as if trying to determine the best course of action. You decided to try helping by prying your stiff arms from around your shoulders and grabbing the waistband, easy enough even with numb fingers. The man seemed briefly alarmed, the gauntleted hand gripping harder on your shoulder as if you might tip over at any moment, but then he seemed to change his mind suddenly and both of his hands fell to your waist, lifting you just enough to make the task of stripping that much quicker.

That was most of your clothes, pants pooling at your ankles; the man had mostly averted his gaze out of a clear sense of modesty, but he was kneeling now to deal with your equally crummy shoes, swiftly removing them and slipping your pants the rest of the way off before standing back up. You sat there shivering still, looking at him: he appeared to be desperately looking for what he ought to do next that didn’t involve looking at you. It would’ve been funny if you weren’t half-frozen and doing your best to stay conscious while naked in front of a stranger.

It seemed to click in his head then what he could do, right hand lifting to start undoing the buckles holding his worn red cloak in place, head still turned away from you. In just a few moments he had it off and was draping it over your shoulders, using his right hand to coax your own hands up in order to grab at the much warmer fabric. It wasn’t particularly soft, but compared to your clothes it was delightfully dry, warm and thick, and you immediately drew it in around you. There was a vague scent of dust to it, but also gunpowder, gun oil… something warm and musky, a heady kind of fragrance that you couldn’t resist as you buried your face against the tall collar encircling your head.

You glanced up at him - he was staring, and you finally noticed his eyes. Deep red, with a yellow ring around the left eye that seemed to glow, pulsing softly. Pretty…

-

Vincent realized it had been more than two decades since his last meaningful interaction with another person. And longer than that since he’d last seen so much bare skin that wasn’t his own (not that he could bear to look at himself for more than a few seconds, anyway). He wanted to tear his gaze away, think about anything other than how well his cloak fit over the body in front of him that continued shivering anyway, the eyes that were locked on his like they enjoyed the sight, weren’t even a little repulsed by the strangeness of him-

He turned away abruptly, unable to suppress the sudden heat and tightness in his guts. Too long since it wasn't a scientist's cold and calculating stare, or another experiment's fearful eyes on him. Too long since his dalliances among the Turks and later the long nights of pining for her, wishing it was her hands on him instead of his own.

Far too long. And the bestial side that he kept subdued with frequent sleep was rousing at his frustration, further fuel to his fire that he wished desperately to smother. He couldn’t do this right now, refused to think about indulging an appetite he'd quashed years ago under a mountain of guilt and self-loathing. He hadn’t thought himself capable of such a reaction anymore, but it wasn’t the first time he was wrong about something.

And the physical response remained, almost painful under tight leathers.

The intruder was half out of it from the cold anyway, a person like that wasn’t in their right mind, and he didn't need anything, didn't deserve it… even as his body was growing to want for it desperately. And that frustrated him more.

He needed a distraction, badly.

-

You watched the stranger turn away as if you had tried to bite him. It was kind of odd, the mixed actions from him like he couldn’t decide whether to help you or run away. But at least his cloak was holding in what body heat you had left, and the intensity of your shivering was slowly beginning to ease up.

He took a few steps away and your eyes focused on the rest of his body for the first time. Completely clad in black leather and golden metal, with a wild mane of black hair cascading down his back. Long, lanky, broad in the shoulders but thin everywhere else. Not a standard figure to cut, but it was easy on the eyes still. Every step he took further away clanked with the metal on his shoes, and the sway of his hips as he moved so effortlessly… wow, the cold really was getting to you, wasn’t it? Just because a stranger in a basement was kind of attractive.

Wait, was he just leaving you here? Oh, no, he was going over to a chest of some kind, opening it and rustling through the contents with a disgruntled sort of noise. Maybe looking for clothes? Or the torture implements, if he was actually secretly a serial killer cannibal. The idea was just as absurd as finding him attractive, anyway. Either way, he clearly couldn’t find what he was looking for, movements laced with agitation as he kept digging about before giving up with a sigh and closing the chest with a solid thunk. Either you were in luck, or out of it.

He turned back towards you, crimson eyes flickering over you for just a moment before he glanced aside - not much for eye contact, it seemed. “... You are still cold.”

Well. Duh. You limited your amusement to a forceful huff, and then found further amusement in the slight pout that tugged on his lips. Probably not a serial killer considering his lack of social skills, since they were supposed to be more charming on purpose. His charm seemed to be completely by accident instead, a slight hunch in his shoulders as he folded his arms over his chest.

“You may rest here until the weather calms. But you may not wander from this room.”

You nodded, deciding to take a chance on trying to stand up now that you felt marginally warmer with the man’s cloak draped around you. Your legs weren’t having it though - they gave out as soon as you started to put weight on them, and your arms refused to even try to catch yourself against the table.

But in an instant he was right in front of you, almost unnaturally fast in his reaction as he caught you by the waist with both hands. The claws of his gauntlet pricked at your skin, his hold just firm enough to keep you from falling but gentle enough to prevent injury. You blinked a few times, his face much closer to yours now, and felt your cheeks flushing almost painfully warm compared to how cold they’d been before. And even with leather gloves covering his hands, they still felt warmer than you were right now. Body heat was a good solution for warming up, wasn’t it? He didn’t seem like a terrible person thus far, all things considered, so the idea of cuddling up with him wasn’t offputting.

“I c-could use some help, with warming up,” you murmured into the space between you and him. He stiffened slightly in response, fingers tense on your sides. Your eyes on his face, his gaze kept avoiding you as if it might burn him to look.

“I could not find any spare clothes,” he admitted.

“D-don’t you have a bed, or s-something?” At least your teeth were slowly easing up on the chattering, though it still kept you stuttering over your words.

The man glanced at you for a moment, his face steadily growing pinker by the second - he really didn’t know what to do with a naked stranger, huh. Finally he straightened up, taking you right up with him effortlessly. All you could do was tighten your grip on the cloak so it wouldn’t fall off, a faint squeak as he began to walk like he was carrying a vase: light, but fragile. He was definitely much stronger than he looked.

You looked over your shoulder to see where he was taking you this time and found yourself staring in disbelief. Was that a coffin? And he was carrying you towards it like that was where he slept… oh no, it really was, wasn’t it? He came to a stop beside it, and in spite of your sudden look of alarm began lowering you down into the coffin, pausing only when you managed to pull a hand free of its clutch on his cloak to grab at his leather-clad arm instead. “W-w-wait, y-you don’t really sleep in this, do you?”

His head tilted, expression faintly curious. “I do.”

Probably not a serial killer… but the weirdness just kept coming, didn’t it? You glanced down at the coffin, unnerved by the idea of resting inside it.“Y-you’re not uh, gonna put the lid on it?”

“You would warm up faster with the lid in place,” he stated. You looked down again, then back at his face with clear disbelief.

“Body heat would probably be more effective.”

He quickly turned pink again, fingers digging into your sides for a moment before his grip eased; it only took a few seconds before he went right back to lowering you into the coffin, faster this time. You yelped as your legs met the red velvet cushioning at the bottom, still refusing to hold any weight the traitors that they were, and found yourself reclining onto your back until your head found the somewhat thin head pillow. Yeah, this was a real coffin for those instances when a body didn’t join the Lifestream quickly enough to avoid rotting, and apparently he slept in it. It smelled like dust, leather, gunpowder… but not death. Thank Bahamut for that.

You had yet to let go of his arm though, and as his hands began to withdraw you tightened your grasp, causing a furrow in his brow as he halted once more. “What now?”

“I don’t know what to call you…”

His brow furrowed as if he didn’t understand the question, though he sighed after a moment.

“Vincent Valentine… you may call me Vincent.”

-

He came to a compromise with the intruder and only partly closed the lid to avoid feeling trapped, but to still hold in more heat than the coffin would without its lid. It was also a relief to know that he would be able to hear the lid moving should his surprise guest try to get up at any point, though it didn’t alleviate his other issue.

That one being that he couldn’t get the thought of the naked form in his coffin, in his cloak, out of his head.

The want had yet to recede, restrained as it was by his waning self-control, and he did his best to ignore it next by taking apart his gun to clean it. All the intricate parts that fit together to make a weapon needed to come apart in just the right order, laid out precisely and methodically, and given careful attention to remove any dust or dirt that found its way inside. Oil was needed to lubricate the moving parts to avoid damage… uncharacteristic heat rose in his face as a wholly different set of moving parts and lubricant came to mind.

The barrel needed to be brushed out, but he only got a few strokes in before the action turned too sensual in his hands, too much of a reminder of what he wanted - maybe needed at this point, but certainly didn’t deserve. He had to set it aside, fists clenched as he glanced around for a less… accidentally erotic distraction. Nothing caught his eye.

So he stood up and began to pace instead, arms folded over his chest tightly as if it could help him bring mind and body both under control. But the comforting cover of his cloak wasn’t there to reassure him, nor could he retreat to slumber. It was just him, his thoughts, and a body that was betraying him with an unrelenting urge.

The faint scraping of wood informed him that his coffin was being opened, distracting him momentarily - it had only been a few minutes, certainly not enough time to warm up by any appreciable amount.

Forcing himself to unfold his arms and keep them loose at his side instead, he turned and felt the eyes on him too keenly, lust sharp and tight in his guts like razor wire. The collar of his cloak curled around the intruder’s head, the lip of the coffin obscuring what he knew was behind it below the exposed neck… knowing but not seeing was somehow more than he knew how to bear.

He began to approach.

-

You peered awkwardly from the coffin as the man - Vincent - walked towards you. Those eyes practically glowed as they stared at you, and the intensity of them pinned you in place like he was a predator stalking you. Which was ridiculous, really, if he had wanted to hurt you he would’ve done it already, rather than trying to prevent you from succumbing to hypothermia.

He stopped beside the coffin, looming. You craned your neck up, forgetting for a moment your lack of actual clothing before realizing he had a clear line of sight of your chest downwards from his position, which made you quickly draw his cloak closed around you. The warm, heady scent of him tickled your nose again, and if you were warmer you’d probably be blushing. As it was, you tried not to look too pathetic peering up at him from his unorthodox bed.

“I’m getting colder I think,” you admitted with a faint voice. The shivering had stopped, yes, but you still felt undeniably cold and the mostly closed coffin could only do so much when it wasn’t very warm to begin with.

Vincent continued staring, then tore his gaze away abruptly. You finally noticed the warm red creeping over his cheeks - a very modest person apparently. But you were well past your own modesty at this point, not having to make much of an effort to actually look more pathetic as you looked up at him.

It took a minute, but he finally exhaled a deep breath through his nose and took a final, reticent step closer before leaning down to push the coffin lid back a little further. You quickly scooted up against the far side of the coffin to give him room. The way he stepped in and sat himself down was… undeniably awkward, and he avoided looking directly at you aside from a few cautious glances to ensure he wasn’t laying himself down atop the cloak and denying you any of the fabric’s coverage.

Slowly, his shoulders and head came to rest on the velvet cushioning, and seemingly out of habit he drew his arms up to cross over his chest. He even rested like a dead person would in a coffin… stiff and almost entirely motionless save for the faintest shift of his chest like he hardly needed to breathe.

After a beat of silence, you tentatively shifted closer. He had closed his eyes, yet somehow you still felt his attention on you, intensely so. It was as if every sound and movement was honed in on, and the feeling made you nervous about closing the distance to at least try and absorb whatever warmth this man gave off. Thin as he was it probably wasn’t much, but it would beat dying of the cold.

He opened one eye to look directly at you, and in response you fell still, trying to understand why your heart was beginning to pound in your chest. It helped you feel a bit warmer at least…

-

He couldn’t get his mind off the body beside him, and the aching, painful desire taking its toll on his innards. Setting himself with his right side closer to the intruder made it less likely he’d cause any accidental scratches with his gauntlet, but that that also meant one less layer of protection between him and his guest. Not that he needed the protection really, but… he was struggling all the more without some way of maintaining personal space.

After staring for a moment that had to be uncomfortable, he sighed and uncrossed his arms, lifting the right up enough to make room at his side for a body to fit.

The intruder’s body was a bit cooler than his own but already he felt the tension in his guts spike, too keenly aware of the minimal barrier that his cloak provided between his leathers and the otherwise naked form. The leather itself dulled things, but even then - the last time he’d purposely allowed someone in his personal space like this… was something he shouldn’t be thinking about with a stranger, no matter how well they fit up against his lanky, uncomfortable body like they belonged there. Like they wanted to be there, even if it was just because of the chill wracking them and not because of him.

Better to be used for this than pushed away with horror and fear.

He slowly brought his arm down around their shoulders. That there was a lack of shivering was concerning, a sign that their core temperature was dropping dangerously. He wasn’t a particularly warm person, but he could assist in sharing what he had, and using friction to create some warmth as well. His hand started to rub over their upper arm, slow at first as not to startle them, then briskly to generate heat with the gesture.

The pleased sigh they heaved was more than enough to remind his body of its wants.

He slowed, then halted the movement of his hand, uncomfortably stiff now, but he seemed to have given them some sort of reassurance with the small gesture. Their head came to rest just below his shoulder, and though he remained still as a statue, they seemed unbothered and even shivered some. Good, their temperature was coming back up, then. As long as he didn’t have to do anything else… he could tolerate this. He could ignore his body, close his eyes, and let sleep creep over him again, as it always did.

-

Slowly, you felt warmth returning to you. Sure, Vincent wasn’t a very warm person, but anything was better than nothing. The shivers coming back helped too, until finally they eased up again and you could begin to feel your fingers and toes tingling painfully. Ouch, frostnip… but better that than the bite and losing them. You found yourself following his example after a while, dozing lightly to the relatively slow rise and fall of his chest.

At some point you shifted yourself up on top of him to better pillow your head on his chest, and sleepily realized there was no heartbeat - just a soft, steady hum from within that still comforted you somehow. Another weird thing about a basement dwelling man who already seemed pretty weird.

His arm had shifted too, from your shoulders down to your waist - underneath the cloak. It brought a warmth to your face that you couldn’t suppress, a blush that only worsened as you gained further awareness of your position on him and how your legs had settled: one drooping down beside his hip, and the other nestled between his. And that left your thigh pressed down against the unmistakable bulge in his pants, leather tight across in what had to be a painful amount of pressure. Was he awake yet? It didn't seem like it, but you didn't have a heartbeat to guess with and his breathing was abnormally slow.

You tried to sit up, and the motion caused your thigh to press down harder. In response, a deep, quiet groan slid from him as his arm tightened its grasp on you, and a thrill rushed through you in spite of your returning common sense. He was strange… but undeniably handsome, and probably pent-up if he never left this basement most of the time. And maybe you were a little lonely yourself.

There were better options out there, but none of them were lying beneath you and holding you tightly. Nor were they peering down at you with crimson eyes, one of them glowing and pinning you in place with a near predatory stare.Shiva help you, lying in a coffin on a stranger, in the basement of an apparently abandoned mansion. This just might turn out to be one of the strangest encounters you've ever had.

The tension built under the silence, rising heat trapped beneath the cool barrier of unfamiliarity.

You opened your mouth to say something, anything to break the silence - and found yourself pulled up roughly to meet his mouth instead, lips and teeth a discordant clash at first that drew a muffled yelp from you before his tongue dipped inside. His arm squeezed you closer, almost squeezed the breath out of you before his grasp loosened and his hand slid down from waist to hip and from there to your ass for a firm grope. Despite still floundering for a proper reaction you couldn’t help moaning into his mouth, hands fumbling to grab onto some part of him to either anchor yourself or maybe push back and try to untangle from this new complication.

But you didn’t get the chance, as the arm he’d kept out of play until now rose and snagged first one wrist and then the other faster than most people would be able to react to, surprisingly delicate in spite of the sharp tips of the gauntlet he was wearing. He drew them up over your head smoothly, the stretch in your shoulders prompting a whine that went unheeded. Instead he was busy still devouring you, while one of his legs nudged between yours to press his thigh up against you. That drew another moan as the leather rubbed along your slit enticingly. Fuck, this was definitely spiraling out of your control.

In a smooth movement his leg hooked around one of yours and used the leverage to roll both of you over - it reminded you very abruptly that you were in fact lying in a coffin as your shoulder brushed along the velvet trimmed side and your back met the barely cushioned bottom, his cloak crumpling off beside you in the process. Before you’d been too cold to have any qualms about being naked in front of a stranger, but now you were warm again and naked underneath a stranger whose mouth was still hungry on yours like he hadn’t had contact like this in literal years… shit, you’d be frustrated too in that position. It’s not like you’re fighting him anyway.

He still had your hands trapped over your head, giving you no chance to touch him in return as his right hand gave your ass one more squeeze before roaming upward, dragging over your side and up onto a breast to massage it beneath his palm. His fingers were elegantly long and seemed to know exactly what they were doing, evoking a muffled whimper as they worked over the soft tissue.

Finally Vincent broke away from the kiss, watching as you heaved for breath beneath him, face flushed and lips tender from his hunger. The yellow ring in his left eye was glowing brightly and the way his hair fell left most of his face in shadow, expression hard to read. Maybe he was having second thoughts now.

You had made up your mind at this point, though - you kept the momentum of the moment by arching your body up against him, heedless of the belt buckles and buttons that pressed into your skin in order to meet hips with him. There was that tight bulge again, and rubbing up into him rewarded you with a quiet groan from those plush lips that had proven to be very kissable. It made him drop down against you for more friction, hips rolling into you needily while his head lowered itself to your neck.It took a moment but his mouth pressed over your pulse, fluttering wildly for him to feel, and a low hum vibrated against your skin. You let out a soft whine in response and tilted your head back for him. He took the gesture for the invitation it was and set to drawing lips and teeth along your throat, kissing and nipping sharply enough to make you gasp, hands flexing uselessly where they remain trapped in his hold.

His tongue darted across your skin next, cool and teasing against warm skin. You couldn’t help wondering what that would feel like further down your body, tracing over your chest or down your stomach, slipping between your lips… the scrape of his teeth brought you back to the moment and drew a breathy moan from you.

Again, his movements were faster than you could track and with a few deft motions you were flipped over onto your stomach. You squirmed but your wrists remained pinned, though his body rested atop yours surprisingly lightly - either he was holding up some of his weight, or he just didn’t weigh that much. His hips still rocked down against you, bulge working against your ass with slow, heavy strokes that made you press up against him with another whine, missing the friction you’d been enjoying just moments ago.

“Be patient.” His voice was ragged with need but held a commanding measure to it that you decided not to test, dropping back down against the thin velvet beneath you. Right, still in a coffin. Bahamut help you since Shiva hadn’t done a thing so far.

His right hand drew down your side again, lingered on your hip briefly while he rutted against you, then slid further down and over the back of your thigh in a near caress that made you shiver before his fingers dipped between your legs and brushed the leather-clad tips along your damp slit. Just that little touch made you want to feel those fingers pressed deep inside you, breath hitching as he rubbed them there briefly before his hand abruptly withdrew. His chest rested against your back a little more firmly now, a shift of his head sending his messy hair cascading down beside your head, and then his voice was right there in your ear, deep and rich and sending another shudder through you.

“You’re truly aroused by this?”

Though he seemed to be trying for sultry, it mostly came out disbelieving - not that you could blame him for being confused by a stranger being turned on by all of this. Maybe the cold was still affecting you?

It didn’t matter, you decided, your response coming out as a single breathless, “Yeah…”

He paused in his grinding, as if trying to absorb that one word. You probably would’ve done the same in his position, but being on the other side just made you wish he’d get back to the action.

You decided to bring him back to the moment this time by lifting your hips to grind up against his crotch and tugging at your wrists as if to pull free of his grasp. That seemed to do the trick, provoking a groan that was half growl - the sound was deep enough to vibrate in your chest and made the hair on the back of your neck stand on end, as if hearing a predator rather than a man. But it was undeniably hot too, even more so as he pressed his mouth to the side of your neck with teeth already nipping at you again as if to scold you for trying to free your hands. You gave him a little whine in response and settled back down, moaning as his hand found its way back between your legs and began rubbing firmly this time; he seemed to have found some confidence in your reactions to him, as now his fingers slid between your folds and pulled a gasp from you next when they pressed on either side of your clit with a slight pinch.

“Fuck-!” You muffled your curse in the thin pillow beneath you, and he huffed his amusement out in a cool breath along your neck that made your skin prickle.

“Not quite,” he responded, and you started to groan only to yelp as his fingers deftly circled your clit. The sudden jolt of pleasure had your legs twitching and hips jerking at his touch, shoulders pressing up into his chest and finding him unmoving. In spite of his thin frame he seemed to be surprisingly strong, keeping you pinned rather effortlessly with just one hand and the length of his body over yours while his hand began working along your now aching cunt. The leather of his glove was slick with your juices and slipped back and forth with little resistance, and the texture gave just enough extra stimulation that you were already squirming under him, whimpers collecting in your throat before he teased them out of you with his mouth on your skin.

And then just as quickly as he’d started he stopped, pulling his hand away once more. This time you reacted with a petulant whine, but another quiet growl of his kept you from any further brattiness, just impatiently shifting your hips beneath him. His hips lifted up enough that you could just feel the back of his hand brushing over your ass while he fumbled with his belt - it was his turn to curse quietly now, and you couldn’t help the little snicker that escaped you, even as it got him to nip you in retort.

In short order though he made it past his belt, the button and fly of his pants, and lastly the comparatively thin fabric of his underwear to free himself from such painfully tight confines. That had to be a massive relief, if the sigh that rushed out by your ear was anything to go by; his cock came to rest against your ass, warm and twitching with obvious need.Your own sudden need to have it buried inside you was already flooding your face with embarrassed heat.

Thankfully he didn’t seem to be paying much attention to that at the moment, his hand brushing your skin again as he rubbed the slick-covered leather along his shaft with just a few strokes. Not much for prep, apparently, or he really was just that pent-up - he shifted enough to slip his dick off the curve of your ass and between your legs, only sliding himself along the wet mess of your folds a few times with a low groan before angling his hips and using his fingers to line himself up with your opening.

“C’mon,” you whined. His only response was a grunt that sounded vaguely annoyed, and then he began to push inside.

Without any stretching out beforehand the blunt press of his head into you came with a stinging that made you gasp, but fuck if it didn’t feel good too, the needy throb of your cunt easing a little as he stretched it open steadily. His body was tense on top of you like all of his concentration was on going slowly right now, but you didn’t want slow - you needed him to start fucking you like he meant it.

You pressed your knees and chest down against the velvet padding and pushed yourself up onto his cock as quickly as you could manage, a pleased cry falling from your mouth. At the same time he gasped against your neck and bit down hard enough for just a moment that you thought it felt like he had fangs before he abruptly let go, a louder growl from him making you shudder. You didn’t want to hear anything he might have to say though, clenching down on him and drawing a moan from his throat that only made you feel all the more desperate to get fucked senseless.

“You-” His voice was choked, torn between irritation and pure lust.

“Fuck me already,” you huffed, bucking your hips sharply.

That seemed to kill any hesitation left in him. He gave one more growl, but his hand latched onto your hip to hold you still while his hips began to snap into you needily. What else was this if not an outlet for two pent-up strangers in unusual circumstances? It didn’t need to be tender and you didn’t want him to go slow, writhing in his grasp to try and meet the demanding thrusts with equal fervor, feeling a sweat start to build up where his leathers rested against you. There was something absurd about being utterly naked while he was fully clothed save for his cock burying itself in your pussy, the way leather slapped against bare skin and the buttons of his shirt pressed down against your back. All of the control was really his, but you’d allowed him to take it without a fight even after common sense returned. You’d have to unpack all of that later.

(Bahamut hadn’t helped either by now. Ifrit, maybe? You only had so many choices to ask.)

He clearly wasn’t going to let you spend much time thinking about it right now, spending a brief moment shifting up and bringing your hips along until your knees could support you, then resuming his brutal pace. Somewhere along the way his left hand slipped off your wrists and found its way to your hip as well, sharp tips pricking your skin while his forehead came to rest on the pillow beside your head. You kept your arms stretched out simply because they felt locked in place right now, daring a glance at his face. Eyes screwed shut tightly, breaths huffing through those pretty lips, cheeks flushed from exertion, hair sprawling everywhere - he was fucking gorgeous.

His right hand fumbled off its perch as his thrusts began to grow even more frantic, slipping by your thigh to drag his palm over your clit. The friction was just what you needed, crying out again and jerking into his hand as best you could between the sharp thrusts that soon stuttered to a halt. A deep, satisfied groan rolled from his throat and made you all the more desperate to join him, rutting against damp leather a few more times before your own climax crashed through you. The feeling of your walls clenching down on his cock drew another moan from him, his hips twitching downward to ensure he was as deep in your cunt as he could get with each gush of cum.

That was something else you’d have to unpack later, but for now it was just a primal bliss to feel full with his weight draped along your back and dick throbbing inside you, the heat of the moment starting to fade as you both relaxed. You could feel him growing soft and after a few moments he pulled out of you with a quiet grunt, arching himself up off your body so he could go to the effort of tucking himself away before drooping right back down on top of you.

In response you let yourself slide off your knees to stretch back out on your stomach, hissing softly as your clit came into contact with the velvet padding. That seemed to rouse him a little from his afterglow, slipping off beside you and using his right hand to roll you onto your side with your back to his chest again, a position that made it only slightly less painful to bring your arms down to your sides finally, cringing with pain all the while. He - Vincent, seemed to realize what the issue was, hesitating a few moments before his hand came up to rub along your shoulder carefully, like he was apologizing. The leather of his glove was sticky with your drying slick by now, but it was still nice in a way.

“The storm will clear off by the morning,” he murmured, startling you for a moment before you nodded a little. “Go back to sleep.”

His hand left its self-appointed job for a moment, then returned with the draping of fabric over your bodies; his cloak was just as pleasant to be covered by as last time, though this time it also carried the unmistakable musky scent of exertion and sex. It certainly warmed you up again.

“Good night,” you whispered tentatively.

He just hummed. You closed your eyes, pretending not to notice the way his arm curled around your waist, and let yourself doze off again. Thinking could wait until the morning.

[unholybacon355]

Down with the sickness

Male Reader X Mina

Word Count: 1K

A/N: Mina and you find an interesting way to use an elevator.

I wrote this some time ago, around a week after that fashion show. I had to do this. Istg i saw her with that dress at the fashion show and had to write this. And i have to recognize that In some point i wanted to do a long story, but it is what it is.

"Come on. Take it out of your pants and put it inside me.” Mina's devilish smile made your knees tremble as you pressed the elevator button harder than you should. “It's 80 floors to the hall, we have time.” She said rubbing her shoulder against your body. “Besides, I'm already wet, and you know I'm not wearing underwear. ”The tone in her voice was so lascivious it made your cock throb.

Without giving you time to answer anything Mina entered the elevator as soon as the doors opened. She walked elegantly until she stood in the middle, where she pulled up her dress, revealing her beautiful legs and that round butt that drove so many crazy. Then looking at you over her shoulder, again with that devilish smile on her lips, she leaned over and rested her hands against the elevator wall. Revealing in the process her perfectly shaved vulva.

"Fuck." Was all you could say before getting into the elevator just as the doors began to close. At the speed of light you opened the zipper and took out just your cock from inside your pants, you were already so hard that it was easy to aim and graze Mina's wet lips.

"Hard." More than a request it was an order, one that you were happy to obey even if it might cost you your job. Although the one who risked the most here was her. You couldn't compare what it would mean for a world-renowned artist to be found fucking in the elevator, on the way to an important fashion event, with what it would mean for a simple manager like you.

As she asked, you separated her folds a little with your tip, and then you suddenly shoved your cock into her vagina. The entire length in a single thrust, bouncing your balls and her buttocks in the process. You firmly took her by the hips and without wasting any more time you began to fuck her as if your life depended on it. She was so wet that she engulfed your shaft without any problem.

Mina instantly began to moan shamelessly. The sounds she makes echoed throughout the small elevator, filling it with her sweet voice and the wet noises you made as you fucked her. It was quite an experience to hear her voice on stage and then witness how it transformed into simple moans, samples of the pleasure she was feeling.

Mina pressed her butt against you looking for more friction, while you put a little more force into your thrusts. The movement fluttered the front part of her light blue dress, with details in what you could say was animal print. Of course Mina looked like a goddess in that dress, because that was what she was, and even though it wasn't like that it seemed like it had been custom designed for her. You were sure that once she left the hotel and exposed herself to the cameras, everyone was going to go crazy because of the large portion of her back that the garment left visible. Mina knew what drove her fans crazy, and she loved to use it against them.

Of course you were also crazy about her back, and everything about her, the truth is, she was a perfect woman in many ways. You wanted to kiss and leave love marks on her perfect back, but you knew you weren't allowed to. You were not her lover, much less her boyfriend or her husband, and although she did consider you a friend, you were nothing more than the personal manager she used to relief her libido.

“Gonna need to apply more perfume or they'll smell my wet pussy from miles away. ” But the truth is that she loves having men and women hypnotized by her beauty and other charms, so if they are able to smell the sex on her, that is just going to be an extra layer on her spell.

Your response was a grunt because all you could think about right now was that you didn't have much time left. The elevator had already descended sixty of the eighty floors, so the end of this session was eminently near. Without wasting any more time you wrapped your arm around her waist and used your fingers to play with her clitoris. Immediately your caresses made the muscles in her vagina contract involuntarily. Mina's response was to press her ass further into you.

“Don't you dare take it out, I… I want it all… inside me.” She was able to say between moans. For your part, you put more force into your thrusts, sacrificing speed to go as deep as you could with each thrust. You soon felt her pussy become impossibly tight around you and the spasms of her petite body revealed to you that she had climaxed. Almost instantly, without giving her time to come down from the cloud of pleasure she was in, you put your cock as deep as you could and unloaded your semen inside her, as she had demanded.

You two stayed like that, motionless for a few seconds, giving yourselves time to catch your breath before you let go of her and separated from her. A new, involuntary moan escaped that pretty little mouth when your cock came out of her pussy. With a smile on your lips, knowing you had done a good job, you put your cock back in your pants.

Mina, for her part, adjusted her dress and fixed her hair a little with her hand. By the time the elevator reached the first floor and the doors opened she looked flawless again, as if nothing had happened. Then she, with her best seductive smile, went out to the hotel hall, swaying her hips as she walked and greeting the people from the organization who were waiting for her. But she also came out smelling like sex and carrying your semen deep inside her, you were sure that everyone was going to be able to smell it on her. Mina was certainly the most shameless person you knew.

[buryhny]

One Night Stand ; 15

➥ rundown ; as if the unexpected twist of a one-night stand turning out to be your CEO boss wasn't surreal enough, the situation takes a more challenging turn when both of you discover that you're expecting his child.

→ genre ; enemies to lovers | CEO au | pregnancy trope | slowburn

→ Jungkook x y/n → contains smut, fluff and angst → Chapter fifteen ; wc | 6.6 k

primarily on Wattpad

index ⇢ next chapter

Did he sleep? Not so well, but did you sleep? Not at all. The hunger kept you up all night, and you were determined not to have anything. No room service, nothing. When you're adamant, then you don't second guess your decisions even though they seem stupid. Like, you not only starved yourself but your baby was in hunger too, how could the kid get nutrients when you don't ingest a thing.

Curled up on your bed, you looked out the window, watching the Eiffel Tower and how the sun was slowly seeping through the metal holes of the iconic landmark. Jungkook, on the other hand, was buttoning up his inner waistcoat.

What woke him up at 6 was the phone call by his secretary, who had just landed in France. He grabbed his phone and was about to head out when he was met with the hotel staff.

"Good morning sir, your breakfast will be sent to your room in a few minutes-" "That's great, I'll be heading out now. So if it's possible to place the breakfast on the table inside?" "of course, sir, will do." Jungkook thanked the man before he left to get the elevator.

He's never late for meetings. He was glad that the hotel was just a few minutes away from Mr Lim's residence, so there was nothing to worry much about.

"Mr Jeon?" Sana, the newly replaced secretary, stood at the entrance of the hotel, walked up to Jungkook. "Ms Min, hope the journey went smoothly?" "yes, it was Mr. Jeon, thank you for asking." The woman battered her eyes, talking to Jungkook in a more honeyed voice than she usually uses,

attempting to get his attention, but in fact, his eyes remained on his phone. Sana rolled her eyes and heaved a sigh, but she was definitely not gonna stop her attempts especially since she's got the benefit of doubt at the female restroom when she passed by Mr Jeon who walked out of the room.

"The driver is here." She mutters, and Jungkook lets her take a seat first, following her later. Mr Lim was best known for his latest designer fashion brand, Thriveworks that launches tonight, Mr Jeon was invited for the grand opening of the fashion show for the summer campaign pieces that Jeon Industries had created for the kick off of the collection.

Lim Seong wan shares his greeting with Celeste Montpellier, the Co-Ceo of Thriveworks, originally born and raised in France, sharing the joint Ceo position with the half korean-half french 56 year old man Seong an jun. "Greetings, Mr Jeon, it's a pleasure to meet you. I trust you had a safe journey." Mr Montpellier spoke, sharing a smile with the man beside him.

He had a fair stubble and a french crop haircut that slightly outgrown its style, combed and gelled up well, his ebony suit, accentuating his broad shoulders. the accessories that rest on his fingers and ears, though, leave him looking questionable to Jungkook as his fingers were wrapped around by a couple of rings in each finger of silver that glint in the rising sunlight.

The man beside him had a simple suit on with no presence of accesories. He definitely looked older than his age. "of course I did." Jungkook accepted the offer of a hand shake and followed the men inside the building, as Mr Jeon took his time to look around the interior of the room, it made him feel confident about his decision on allowing the two ceos to invest in his business as the two of them hold a highly reputed name in the fashion industry. "Please make yourself comfortable, Mr. Jeon."

Lim speaks as he takes a seat in front of the man. the room served its best creativity in sophisticated as the designer pieces of past and current fashion were displayed ever so thoughtfully, showcasing how this business has grown through each art of seamless garments beautifully resting in each of their own mannequins, waiting to be arranged at the main gala at the show this night,

for which ceo Jeon Jungkook has its special appearance to not only promote his agency but to also add a layer of excitement to it, bringing more fame, fans and charisma like the aura of ceo Jeon. "And the lovely lady, please take a seat."

"Thank you, Mr Celeste, it's a pleasure to meet you. You can call me Sana, Mr Jeon's personal assistant." the woman blabbered when she was not asked to. Jungkook glances over at her, rethinking his decision because he does not get the best vibes. she was not exactly Jungkook's type of secretary. He looked forward to a quiet, soft-spoken woman who would focus on her job, speak when she's asked to, and behave like she had to. he didn't even mind a bubbly natured personality.

However, Sana was the opposite of everything he sought. Jungkook notices how she batters her eyes, too, and he's fully convinced that he needs a new PA as soon as he steps at korea. "we may have emailed the invitation to you, but as a personal gesture of gratitude, we offer this invitation card which was specifically designed to invite ceo jeon to our show to express our sincere admiration to your work."

Celeste spoke in his fluent English with a hint of his French accent that added cherry to his words.

Jungkook felt grateful to have worked with amazing people like them who really acknowledged him, his company, and his artwork of the team. Even though he sits there with a cold look on his face, expressionless and no smile, he feels it within him and he's proud of his team that he got this opportunity and is being appreciated well. The server walks into the room after she's excused, leaving a large tray with a variety of appetisers and desserts that are followed by more items being placed by the next two servers.

The food stares at Jungkook like he does. It's almost telling him something that he really doesn't seem to understand. He does feel that, in fact, he's missing out on something. continuing to look at the food being placed on the table, it hits him. it totally slipped out of his mind that you probably haven't eaten anything since last night. his eyes widened at the thought of leaving you in hunger,

yet he turned away and heard Mr Seong Wan speak, allowing his thoughts to fly away. It's her adamant nature that has put her into that position, giving her a good opportunity to think through her mistakes and reform herself.

In about 15 minutes in from his thoughts he somehow feels guilty that you're probably still asleep, starving cause he knows that you're slowly growing your cravings so he decides to take you for a brunch once this meeting is over.

-

you watch the few tiktoks that pop up in your fyp. It's food, and you can't even express how empty your stomach is. you're aware that Jungkook is out for his work, you're mad at him of course you are, he's putting rights on you for no damn reason. it's not fair to you when you just wanted to explore the city and have food. Is it a crime for a pregnant woman to want to try new food?

The frustration you have on him is at level 05 that if you see him, you're unsure how you would behave, might throw that expensive flower pot at his face. there when you just swipe up your phone, you hear the doorbell ring. taking a look at the time on your phone, you're sure that it can't be Jungkook, it's just 9.45 he wouldn't be back until 10;30 the least. so you walk to the door, wearing that little short and the long white shirt you chose to stay in as it satisfied your comfort zone.

Opening the door slightly you've met with a man dressed in a tailor fitted suit, his hands stayed cosy inside the pockets of his pants, his loafers had been polished well and when you look up to see the man's face, you've met with a stern, cold expression frowning. Jungkook. you rolled your eyes and were about to close the door to his face when he stopped the door with his arm. "Dress up, we're going out." He mumbles and squints your eyes, wondering if you heard him, right? 'wanting to go out now? did he pity me?' "no thanks, i'm good."

you responded as you tried to close the door with force, but his strength was multiplied by yours, so you gave up and walked inside. Jungkook didn't use this opportunity that allowed him to walk inside. He maintained his distance and stood at the doorstep, trying to be patient when he could definitely feel his temper lose. "I'm making use of the free time we have. Don't be a prick. let's go." "sorry that you're wasting your free time on me, Jungkook, you don't have to.

I didn't ask for it." yelling to him, you sit on the couch with your arms crossed and towards your chest. He leans against the door, his shoulders slouching as he lacks a good conversation with you. He's clearly tired of your behaviour, he doesn't enjoy this, for one bit. There's only a limit everyone has, and you've surely crossed it months ago. He can't blame the pregnancy that's allowing you to conduct these actions. You've always been arrogant, picky, and stubborn with what you want.

it's just the way you are, and he feels sorry for the one who falls in love with you. it's a black hole that no one would manage to climb out of. The silence between the two of you gets heavy. A good 15 minutes vanished in this polluted air of tension, annoyance. Jungkook gets tired of watching the ground and walls, he's been staring at it for long that he'd managed to get a count of the geometric circles of the traditional patterned carpet that lays on the files. He'd had enough of this, so he walked inside.

There, he sees you seated on the couch with your legs crossed and folded arms, watching out the window, with a deep frown that sat on your face. Before he says a word, he licks his lips to prepare for another army of words just in case you had yours ready, too. before either of you could spill out anything,

your stomach rumbled loud, not only leaving Jungkook shocked but surprised you too. you meet his face, and he sees yours, holding his head high as he bites into his inner cheek to prevent himself from unintentionally letting out a laugh to gas up our embarrassment.

"that-" he points at your belly with his index finger while you look at him with red cheeks of shame. "Says enough." gulping down the blob of saliva down your throat, there's no point to win you, you admit it that you are famished so you must lose to eat. Although this argument could go on for days, you give up to satisfy your bottomless pit. With slow nods, Jungkook finally deeply exhales as you agreed to him. He didn't want you to be hungry.

Heck, he wouldn't do this to any human. He walks out of the room after he mumbles, "I'll be waiting out." you watched him step out and then stomp on your feet. you hate losing! but since the result of it is food, at this point, you don't care. it's immature, these arguments. He knows it, so do you, yet it happens? because that's at least allowing you two to talk, if not. if it were peaceful, it would be worse without any words exchanged. with two introverts, especially. or at least to each other.

-

"you're sure you wouldn't feel tired?" you kept whining that you wanted to walk around, to look at the streets and feel the city. Jungkook was not very happy about it, yet he decided to let it sink. do what you want so he doesn't get himself trapped in one of your webs. you are very prone to irritation, and that affects him. you stroll down the streets with Jungkook beside you.

He left his coat back in his room. It's much lighter to be with his shirt and inner waistcoat. you didn't bother to pack lengthy outfits as the sun shines bright even to leave you pouring in sweat. Instead you roam around the lanes dressed up in a relaxed fit cream shorts that had the cotton shirt comfortably tucked in, showing the littlest of the bump and a linen white shirt added a slight touch of polished vibes.

you're comfortable, that's enough, that's all you need. looking over at Jungkook, you really wonder how he looks effortlessly with that suit on, no stain of sweat and even the slightest of it, does not eliminate any odour. It's such a blessing to him. his hands stay inside the pocket of his linen pants while your fingers keep pointing at all the random stuff that comes in front of your eyes. "No way, I see the Eiffel Tower, a mile away."

"No, it's not just a mile away! It just looks closer because it's the tallest building here." you gape at him, stopping your tracks as you face him with a wide mouth. He turns back and looks at you, confused so his eyebrows raise. "what?" "oh my god, Jungkook. Thank you for enlightening me. I totally did not know that it's the tallest building here."

"you're welcome." He responds with a smirk and continues to walk forward, trying his best to stop himself from smiling as the look of your screwed face proves to him that you expected a different reaction from him.

"Jerk." "stupid." you both whispered under your breaths as you walked faster to match up to his pace. The streets are so empty here that it just made you realise how happening Korea is. The city roads of Seoul were always filled with a diverse crowd, various languages filling the air even at 3 am in the night. The neon lights and signs gave colour to the sidewalks whereas in France, it's all hues of beige and cream. quite boring for a young adult as you.

that isn't the same case for Jungkook. However, he didn't mind it. Of course, he prefers Seoul. After all, it's where his heart lives. but he isn't fascinated by anything like you are. He's boring, he admits it. The two of you walk down the streets in silence, a gap in between each other as you admire the surroundings while he just wants you to be done with it so he can go back to the hotel and relax.

"oh my god, do you smell that?" you stop abruptly, and your face suddenly lights up when the aroma of cheesy garlic pizza dough brushes under your nose, calling you to meet it. Jungkook looks at you, taking a deep breath, trying to smell what you're talking about, but he doesn't get it.

he just gets a deep inhale of the smoke the brunette man puffed past Jungkook. "wha-" "pizza!! can i have pizza?" 'Oh not again,' he thinks, rolling his eyes at the mention of pizza. you've been eating way too much of that, and he's not happy about it. 'She's gonna birth a damn cholesterol child if she continues to eat these.'��"y/n, let's get you some salad-" "i did not come to freaking Paris to have some leaves?! i need to try some french pizza?" 'Is French pizza a thing? I've heard of Italian pizza but french?' "Let's try a healthier option-" "no, I want pizza!!"

You cross your arms and pull it towards your chest. He knows that look of your face, the deep crease of your forehead, and that pout on your lips while you stare at the ground, not getting what you want. Jungkook knows this is only a move to trap him. He doesn't want you to eat it. Heck, he wouldn't want anyone to eat such oily, nasty, junk food.

but he's nothing next to you. He must think quickly. if not pizza, then you're just directly going back to the hotel, empty stomach. He stands in front of you, looking at your face. you're not whiny because that's a part of you.

You're whiny because pregnancy has made you so. Pregnancy brings great changes to women. Some women undergo less to no changes in their moods or behaviour, some of them are always depressed, some are way too happy and some just have attitude problems. with you, you've had an attitude all your life. Things got worse with pregnancy hormones.

"Look, let's get healthy pizza. satisfy you and me." "I'm the pregnant one here, and I'm craving for pizza from this-" you point at the restaurant in front of you.

"is exactly what i'm craving for. I'm not having anything else!" Jungkook knows nothing is in his favour or control and arguing with a woman like you? no chance. He's not taking the risk. He's literally in the middle of the street. You might cry and scream out for help saying he's molesting you or forcing on you.

That's the type you are. "are you sure, maybe there are better places down the-" "a one thousand and two per cent!" "fine." He walks inside the little pizza shop, the doorbell dings letting the staff inside know that they've got new customers.

"Bonjour, what would sir and madame like you have?" the man in the white apron questioned with his strong french accent. you looked around the cosy little space. It definitely looked old, and the walls were all crusty and black, but the look of the freshly baked pizzas was something else. "y/n, come here. What would you like?" you looked at the menu, which showed a wide range of options to choose from,

from a class margherita to a variety of other flavours that looked absolutely mouth-watering. "one margherita and hawaiian pizza, please." Jungkook scrunched his face in disgust. Pineapple on pizza is hideous. "Is that all?" "yes." "dining or takeaway."

"take-" "dining!' you interrupted the man who stood beside you, giving you a glare as he looked around the congested area and sighed. "let's sit out." He nods and does his payment in cash while you walk out and sit on one of the chairs. Jungkook joins in a minute, takes his house out of his pocket, and checks his emails and text messages for clients. "Can I say something?"

his eyes flicker over to you with a nod and then back to his phone. "you're the most boring person I've ever met in my life. My dogs, at their old age, are much more fun than you."

Jungkook puts his phone down and gives you a sarcastic fake smile and then looks at his phone again. "such a nice compliment." "of course, Mr. Jeon." you lean back on the chair, rubbing your belly. That's just a few days away from being 5 months now. you read articles on Google that interest you.

"Y/n?" Jungkook taps on the table, but you don't respond. "Y/n?" Still no answer. "Ms. Lee?" Nothing. "Oh, come on, will you just—" "Huh? What did you just say?" "Finally!" he sighs and rolls his eyes. "Food?" You glance at the table and see the pizza, warm, cheesy, and fresh. Instantly, you set down your phone and grab a slice.

"careful, it's hot!" "ouch-" "see? I told you." Jungkook gestures to you to wait, uses a fork and knife to slowly pull out a triangle, it's hot, and you both could clearly see the smoke gushing out. This only makes you super excited and anticipated. "here." he gives you the paper plate with a slice of a Hawaiian pizza on it, then gets back to his phone. "Hey, grab a piece for yourself, too." "Appreciate your concern, but no thanks." He muttered with a fake smile.

"Try it, Jungkook! I promise it's good!" "I don't think pineapple on my pizza is a good idea. It's a joke. I'm not having it." the both of you were adamant. you cut out a piece and poked your fork into it, bringing it closer to his face, but your arm is only so short. "try it!" "no y/n, do you not understand english?" you've let him go. Clearly, you don't care about him, but you want him to try one of your favourite pizzas.

You want the reaction. simple. standing from your chair, you pull it over to sit beside him. "I will not eat it!" "you must try it!" "no!" "please Jungkook! just one bite, just one!!!" you put the fork to his face, see your face with that pout. "oh, come on, it won't kill you." "fine." He sighs and takes the fork from your hand.

He doesn't want you to feed him, and neither were you planning to. "how. is. it?" you eagerly wait for his reaction as you look at him with wide ears, sparkling in excitement. Jungkook's face scrunches up at first, and then it becomes blank, expressionless. "Tell me!!!" "good."

"what?" "it's good, deaf!" "see, i told you!!! have this piece now." 'oh hell no-' "come on, eat with me, we will obviously not come to Paris again together, so eat up." He looks at your face, like, 'obviously, I'm not taking you anywhere again.' you gobble down the pizza, big bites that he didn't know that your mouth could open this wide. A little pineapple sticks up your nostril that makes him chuckle, which he soon bites back.

"I know it's stuck up there. don't laugh." "so take it off!" "shut up!!" the both of you giggle while he has his share of the pizza, too.

;

"Wait, is that Mr. Jeon? Who's with him? huh? is that? is Mr. Jeon in a fucking relationship? oh, my fucking- let me snap this."

next chapter ⇢

[yuzurujenn]

[2023.11.11] AERA Special Edition - Yuzuru Hanyu's COSTUMES by Satomi Ito

Vividly colouring the ice The World of Satomi Ito's Costume Designs

Program Itsuka Owaru Yume PROLOGUE / November 4, 2022 Hanyu sent me an image of the colour, and I proposed several design options. I had heard in advance that it was a program without jumps, so I thought it would be nice to have fluttering sleeves and a long hem like a goldfish. To avoid a flat appearance from a distance, I gathered drapes from the front to the back. Since the sleeves and hem are long, I wanted a sense of airiness, so I designed it with an open back. The colours are airbrushed in varying shades of light blue and lavender.

Program CHANGE PROLOGUE / November 4, 2022 Given the unique arrangement of this piece, I wanted to create a modern, asymmetrical costume rather than a completely Japanese design. I used silk fabric with gold thread embroidery on a black base, which I had purchased years ago at first sight and had kept in storage. It was a precious material, so I hadn’t been able to use it until now, but I believe it would be fulfilling for the fabric to be used in Hanyu’s costume. The left shoulder features a woven decoration, and I paired it with a faux leather belt at the waist to avoid an all-black look.

Program Ashura-chan GIFT / February 26, 2023 This is a very simple shirt costume compared to what I’ve made so far. Hanyu mentioned, "I want a red satin-like shirt with a glossy finish." Since satin shows stains when it gets wet, I searched for fabric that wouldn’t show stains as much. “There’s a choreography that involves lying on the ice, so that helps,” he said. Because it’s a simple costume, I focused on the quality of the materials as much as possible. The tie was also Hanyu’s request. I initially prepared a blue tie for the fitting, but he sent me an image saying, "I’d like a tie with this pattern." I used that as a reference to design the pattern, printed it, and created a tie specifically for "Ashura-chan."

Program One Summer’s Day GIFT / February 26, 2023 Hanyu suggested, "I’d like a light blue gradient effect at the split hem," so I incorporated that into the design. For this costume, I had the image of Haku (the white dragon) from "Spirited Away" in my mind. I wanted details that evoke the scales of a dragon, so I prepared three different circular cuts of organza material. I made many pieces in different sizes and colours, attaching each one individually. I also chose fabrics with a translucent quality. I layered the sleeves and added extra layers to the hem. I think the shimmering of the fabric when it moved gave it a dreamy appearance.

Program The Firebird GIFT / February 26, 2023 When Hanyu told me his image of the song, the first thing I thought was "I want to add large wings." In the initial design I presented, I had added a hair ornament, but I clearly remember Hanyu contacting me, saying, "It will be distracting during the performance, so I don’t think it will work." The costume for "The Firebird" has a strong red impression, but at first it was a bit more white. Hanyu requested, "I want to keep that while adding more colour," so I reflected that in the design, using emerald as an accent and incorporating peacock motifs in various places.

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

Costume Designer: Satomi Ito

Never wavering from the core, Always at the center.

Accompanying Creator vol. 1 The exquisite and glamorous costumes beautifully elevate the world contained within the program. Costume designer Satomi Ito has been pursuing a vision of “costumes that only Yuzuru Hanyu can pull off” since the beginning of their collaboration, continuously creating exclusive costumes that belong solely to each piece of music.

-Including his competitive era, you have designed many costumes for Hanyu. When did you first meet him?

In 2014, when Hanyu became a gold medalist at the Sochi Olympics, he contacted the company I was working for at the time, asking for an exhibition costume. There were other designers at the company, and many wanted to create costumes for him. A few of the senior designers and I submitted design sketches. Hanyu chose my design, which led to us creating both competitive and exhibition costumes together.

-The first costume you made was for "The Final Time Traveler." Hanyu performed in this costume at the Grand Prix Final exhibition. What do you think attracted him to your design sketches?

You should ask him directly (laughs). Although he chose my design, he mentioned that the colour wasn’t quite right, so I had to revise it. I created three new sketches to show him in person during the fitting, and he selected one on the spot to begin production. Once the design was confirmed, we would discuss colours and materials via email. Sometimes, he sends me image references or colour preferences. Depending on the costume and the timing, it usually takes about two months to create. Since the music and program concepts are determined before the design, deadlines can be tight.

-You once described Hanyu as 'a designer in his own right.'

For example, Hanyu decided almost everything about "SEIMEI". He had specific requests regarding the colours and wanted the design to stay true to the kariginu. Initially, I had a completely different idea, so in that sense, I see Hanyu as a kind of designer. However, it’s my responsibility to create the patterns, sew the pieces, and add embellishments, so I focus heavily on the details. Since the athletes are the ones who see the costumes up close, I want to create something that they will find impressive.

-Working with a skater who continuously evolves—winning consecutive Olympic titles, challenging the quadruple axel, and performing a solo show at Tokyo Dome—must be inspiring, right

Hanyu is always pursuing higher goals, and naturally, the costumes he wears should also progress in terms of lightness and materials that allow for movement. The first competition costume I made for him was for “The Phantom of the Opera” (2014-15), which weighed about 850 grams, and looking back, that feels a bit heavy. Since then, I have been exploring ways to use materials, and now most of my costumes weigh around 500 grams. The costume for “Introduction and Rondo Capriccioso” (2021-22) is just slightly over 500 grams.

[Having stepped away from competition allows for more creative freedom]

-Behind the glamour, there's meticulous adjustment down to the gram.

I think athletes find practice wear the easiest to move in, but that alone isn’t enough for competition. I need to design costumes that express the program's worldview while also pursuing functionality. Honestly, design and functionality often conflict, and it’s common to feel, “I want to do this, but I can’t.” However, the most important factor is whether they can perform, so I focus on that when creating.

-Has there been any change since Hanyu stepped away from competition? 

It feels refreshing not to worry about weight. I realise, “Now that he’s out of competition, I can design more freely.” For example, in "The Firebird," after hearing Hanyu’s image of the music, my first thought was that “I want to add large wings,” so I designed the costume accordingly. For "Itsuka Owaru Yume," I had heard in advance that it was a program without jumps, so I imagined fluttering sleeves and a long hem like a goldfish. I’ve been able to take on various challenges. Just because he turned professional doesn’t mean he’s stopped jumping; he’s always moving, spinning, and the ease of movement remains a priority. However, sometimes he says things like, “This program doesn’t have jumps, so it’s okay if it’s a bit heavier,” which opens the door to new challenges (laughs). It’s exciting to explore a wider range of fabrics and decorations.

[A strong commitment to "costume for this program]

-When do you feel Hanyu's unique attention to detail when working on costume production?

Although he has never said it directly, I think he is conscious of “a costume that can only be worn by Yuzuru Hanyu.” While style varies from person to person, everyone considers how to design to make the legs look a bit longer or more proportionate, right? Hanyu is tall, so he looks good. There are designs that can only be proposed because it’s him, and he can carry off even the most extravagant costumes. The purple version of "Origin" costume is a prime example. Inspired by Nijinsky’s “Le Spectre de la Rose,” I added three-dimensional rose decorations and butterflies that weren’t in the original design sketch. This design could only be proposed thanks to Hanyu’s style, skill, and the program. I probably wouldn’t think of such design on any other skater. Even when creating costumes, I often think, 'This would be difficult for anyone other than Hanyu.' I also wonder if Hanyu himself thinks, “If it were me, it should be fine.”

-Above all, he is also a skater who values the music. 

He has a strong desire for “a costume made solely for this program,” which he has mentioned during fittings. He holds a clear concept of his program, so if he feels something is off with the design, he’ll say, “This is the image I have in mind,” and then I will make adjustments and work on it.

-You’ve been involved in creating costumes for Hanyu for nearly ten years. They are all delicate and beautiful, but are there any costumes that haven’t been revealed yet?

When I propose designs, I usually create 2 to 4 sketches. Sometimes, among the ‘rejected designs’, there are personal favourites, and I hope to unveil those on another occasion. I also think it’s okay not to be confined to figure skating costumes. In fact, I’d love to create costumes outside of figure skating (laughs). My recent goal is to create haute couture just for Hanyu and have it photographed by Mika Ninagawa.

-As the executive producer of "GIFT," Yuzuru Hanyu created a spectacular show.

After all, it’s crucial not to let your core waver. I think it's truly amazing that Hanyu takes the lead and keeps himself at the center of it all. I look forward to his future ice shows and performances.

Source: AERA Special Edition - Yuzuru Hanyu: The Solitary Driving Force pg 80-85 Info: https://www.amazon.co.jp/exec/obidos/ASIN/4023323500/

[dyeher]

High Stakes| Ran H.

Includes| secret agent! Ran Haitani x secret agent! Reader

Warnings| fem! reader, violence, murder, mentioned gambling, implied harassment, guns, mirror sex, dry humping, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, choking, creampie, dirty talk, multiple orgasms.

Notes| mwah! another repost.

Ran is making plans to return to the Bloody Lotus when he’s not working. Bright eyes scan the clientele, and fingers drum the side of his glass, he decides he likes the energy. Rich people are always eager to spend their earnings, to show off their pregnant coin purses and boast about investments and returns and how they’ve recently deprived the world of another useless piece of art that costs more than it has any right to. Rich people paired with alcohol makes this place a breeding ground for ‘Too Much Information’. Ran affectionately calls it TMI, and it’s the reason he’s here tonight. To collect some of that.

When he returns though, when he’s off the clock, he’ll be here for the pretty call girls and the lacquered cards that are screaming his name. Absently he raises his glass to his lips. Tonight he is not Ran Haitani, Agent 001. Tonight he is simply Ran Haitani, one of Japan’s most eligible bachelors, and a potential investor in whatever business venture Izana Kurokawa has cooked up.

He glances around the lobby, careful not to make eye contact with you as the balding man’s hand snags on the exposed flesh of your upper thigh. Ran’s grip on his glass tightens reflexively. He reminds himself that if he kills Lorano now they’re fucked and you would’ve been groped for no reason. He remains quiet, pretending to take in the brightly lit room with its marbled floor and high ceiling.

To his left is the entrance to the VIP section where he’s currently perched at the bar. It’s a pair of glass doors flanked on either side by two large men dressed to the nines but sporting firearms. Through the glass, he can see regular patrons, the upper-middle-class dressed in their best and whispering to each other over glasses of overpriced champagne. Some are gambling their way down the social ladder without really paying any attention to it.

To his right is the entrance to Izana’s private quarters. Well, for the most part. To his right actually stands a set of hand-carved mahogany double doors. Those doors don’t lead anywhere. Behind them is an elevator leading to the rooftop of this fine establishment and the only true way to access Izana’s quarters is from the rooftop entrance. A little way off from those doors is a simple nondescript door that leads to the stairwell on the inside of the building. The stairwell gets as high as the private rooms of Izana’s friends. If all went well Ran would be on that floor within the hour.

He’s brought out of his reverie when you warble spilling a little of the drink in your tray onto Lorano. He’s impressed by your ability to mold into any character as he listens through the earpiece. You lay on a faux Italian accent, as you scramble to apologize that immediately has Lorano perking up, and Ran has to sip from his glass to cover his disgust when one of the buttons on the man’s shirt pops open at the movement.

Izana dresses his female employees in the most ridiculous things. Tonight’s number is a sheer black leotard, the front covered in some sort of stitched design that just barely covers your breasts, the back so low it dips beneath the band of the too-tight, too-short black skirt paired with it. The shoes are strappy and wound all the way up to above your knee. The heel and platform are so high that Ran winces internally as he watches the ease with which some of these girls can maneuver the tables and crowd in them.

He’s whispering to you in rapid-fire Italian, things Ran wishes he didn’t understand, promises to treat you right, questions about how long you’ll be working for. His grubby hands trail down to your thigh when you bend across him to replace his drink and even from this distance Ran can see the way your fingers on the tray flex.

An irrational amount of pride swells in his gut when your smile doesn’t even waiver, and for a second he’s so transfixed he almost doesn’t hear when one of Lorano’s lackeys bends into his other ear to let him know Izana was ready for him. Ran’s heart slows, his eyes locking with yours as he starts moving. Based on Wakasa’s intel Izana’s meetings are held on the roof, and there should be a viewing room on that floor. Only one elevator goes to that floor and it requires either Izana’s Identification card or the code, a code only he knows. Ran subtly adjusts the face of his watch, a beautiful Patek Phillipe piece he’d paid Inui out of pocket to have modified. He chuckles when he reaches the door of the stairwell and Wakasa’s voice filters through his ear.

“I think I threw up in my mouth a little when Lorano asked if she eats ass,” Ran can hear Wakasa’s shudder. He uses the knuckle on his index to push his glasses up the bridge of his nose, activating the screen on the camera on the left screen. “Take a step back Ran, need to see the entire door.” Ran shuffles back feigning glancing at the floor in front of the door and then back up. “Thank you,” Wakasa says, and Ran fidgets as he begins to count down in his head. “You ready big guy? You have thirty seconds to climb three flights of stairs before the camera’s auto-reboot.”

Ran glances to his left and right quickly before nodding. “Go.”

He doesn’t even register the door slamming behind him as he flies up the stairs. He’s mastered the art of running in suits at this point. His chain lifts with his movements until finally, he catches the pendant between his teeth to stop it. He uses the rail to hoist himself up, taking the stairs four at a time until the leather sole of his shoe lands on the dark marble of the top floor. He skids a little, catching himself on the wall. “Twenty-six seconds,” Wakasa tells him. “Not bad.”

Ran chuckles. “You talk too much Wakasa. Anyone ever tell you that?”

“You,” Wakasa retorts. “Every time we work together.”

“Lorano’s on his way up,” your voice interrupts them both. “And I’m coming with him.”

Ran tenses. “That was not part of the fucking plan,” he says as he stalks the length of the hall. He passes his room, heading for the elevator. He watches as the numbers change.

“Yeah but it’s smarter than the original,” Wakasa admits. “If she gets up there Izana’ll send her back down because employees aren’t allowed on that floor. Which means she’ll control the elevator.”

Ran curses, because Wakasa’s right. “Fuck.” He watches as the elevator gets to the top floor and then ten minutes later he watches as it begins its descent. The impromptu change works and Ran finds himself face to face with you not thirty seconds later.

“Camera’s are down,” Wakasa announces. “Double-loop so it looks like she came off the elevator. Shouldn’t have any issues if no one is standing at the elevator doors.”

And no one is standing there. In fact, getting into the viewing area is too easy, not only that but they find that it’s not just a viewing area. Ran takes a good scan of the room following Wakasa’s instructions until they land on a row of computers and Wakasa almost moans in both your ears. It’s the central command.

“I despise Izana Kurokawa,” he hisses. “I hope he knows I’m praying for his downfall. Specifically, because this setup is so beautiful he doesn’t deserve it.”

Ran glances at you out of the corner of his eye and almost swallows his tongue when he finds you squatting at one of the outlets. Your ass stretches the material of the skirt and Ran has to force himself to look away as you get on your knees to press the switch. One of the older computers lights up next to Ran and Wakasa honest-to-gods giggles.

“Ran, plug the flash drive in there,” Wakasa instructs. “Turn it on and where is my beautiful little amateur hacker. Get your ass over here.”

Ran tunes in to the conversation between Izana and Lorano, looking out through the glass at them from his spot. Izana as always is dressed in some elaborate get up, his second in command stands to his left his arms folded and the disgust in his expression clear as he looks at Lorano.

“It’s quite simple,” Izana is saying. “You join me, I get control of your men, I pay you to speak when spoken to.”

Lorano looks torn. “It’s not that simple, my men will not respect me anymore,” he tries to explain.

“Lorano,” Izana coos. “Your men don’t pay you. Your men are ungrateful pigs. Your men are incompetent criminals. Your men are failures as men. Their respect for you isn’t worth hot shit even if it came from a god.” Izana’s men laugh and Ran winces at the shade of red Lorano turns. “Think about the respect you’ll earn from the rest of Japan when they find you’re associated with me.”

This seems to give Lorano pause and Ran scoffs. He wonders what Izana might have offered him if he planned to stick around long enough to hear.

“How much are you offering?” Lorano finally says.

“I’m offering you a salary,” Izana says slowly, in case Lorano misunderstood. “Not a percentage cut of the shit I make.”

Lorano swallows, and the microchip in the collar of his shirt picks up the sound extra loudly. Ran almost gags. “How much?”

“Five hundred thousand dollars a month,” Izana says and Ran is appalled at the way Lorano immediately agrees. He wonders if Lorano knows that he’s signing this document in his blood. And just as Ran expected when Izana verifies that Lorano has in fact signed over his properties and his men he opens his palm and Ran shifts when a gun is placed in it. “It was great doing business with you,” Izana frowns and Lorano doesn’t have time to scream before the gun goes off and his pudgy body is falling face first into his dinner, blood mixing with the delicacies on the plate. Ran’s thoughts are interrupted by Wakasa’s curse.

“What?” he snaps turning back to where you’re tapping away at the computer screen.

“You’ve got company,” Wakasa says quickly. “Fuck. Two incoming looks like Izana’s personal guard and the Head of Security.”

Ran’s head snaps to the door when he hears the telltale sounds of footsteps coming down the corridor. “How much longer, angel?”

You tap away at the keyboard rapidly. “We’re at 87%,” you scramble to type faster but Ran’s already dragging you away from the desk. “What the fuck are you—”

“You can punch me in the face afterward,” he whispers quickly. And then he’s kissing you. Tentatively at first, just a soft brushing of his lips that immediately has you relaxing in his hold. One large hand cups your face to angle your head better and the other dips into the base of your spine, curling you closer to him. His fingertips are warm as they trail the length of your spine. Goosebumps erupt on your skin and you shudder, your nipples pebbling in the thin material at the contact. You’re frozen, struck dumb by the gentleness of his kiss, eyes wide open so you see the way long lashes brush the tops of his cheeks.

Ran pulls back just far enough to growl against your mouth. “Kiss me back, angel.” And then he’s running the tip of his tongue along your bottom lip and they’re parting to let him in. His tongue is eager and warm and so soft as it brushes confidently at yours that your toes curl.

Your body presses closer to his, your hands winding around his shoulders as you kiss him back. It’s the consent he needed. The kiss grows intense, Ran’s tongue dipping farther, his head slanting to deepen the kiss. You’re suddenly reminded of your lack of underwear when Ran’s hand comes up to grasp the back of your head, the one cupping your face drops to your thigh as he backs you into the desk. He hoists you onto the surface easily, your body displacing the keyboard, and stack of papers next to it. His grip on your thigh slips to the back of your knee and he hikes it up around his waist, to slot himself between your legs, bending you back a little so you’re propped against the monitor.

“Fuck,” he groans when your fingers tangle in his hair. You tug his head back harshly, desperation making your movements a little rough as you press sloppy, lipstick stain kisses along the side of his neck and the column of his throat. You wonder if he’s wanted to do this as bad as you have. If he’s ever lost sleep thinking about the contours of your body the way you have. Or imagined the softness of your lips, the taste of your mouth, the feel of your hands on him. Because you’ve spent countless nights with your fingers between the folds of your pussy, rubbing circles into your clit imagining they’re Ran Haitani’s fingers or his tongue. Many nights with your dildo pumping furiously into you imagining it’s Ran Haitani’s cock molding and shaping your insides for him.

The guards are forgotten as Ran presses the length of his body to yours. The hard outline of his cock rubs into the damp crotch of your leotard when you finally bring your lips back to his. Your kissing becomes frantic and sloppy. Ran devours your mouth, fucking it with his tongue in a way you know he’d easily replicate in your cunt. Your body bucks when his fingers climb your thigh, his knuckles rubbing the sensitive skin as it inches higher. You moan into his mouth and Ran’s responding chuckle sends chills down your spine.

“Bet you’ve soaked through this flimsy thing,” he mumbles, lips not pulling away far enough for you to focus on his features. His kisses move from your lips down to your neck and throat. “Probably got a messy little pussy.”

You whine, arching as though you can get any closer than you already are. Your fingers catch in his jacket as you try to push them off his shoulders. Ran eases back just enough to free his arms, dropping the jacket next to you as he resumes his previous position. You get a glimpse of how well he fills out the silk shirt beneath and realize this isn’t enough. You want to feel his skin, you want to rake your nails down his back and mark him with your teeth. Just as you think this Ran’s teeth latch onto the erogenous area where your neck and shoulders meet. Your moan is absolutely wanton. You feel him shudder in your arms as he reaches for the strap of the onesie and rips it down your arm freeing one of your breasts for his hungry mouth. It’s only as you toss your head back, lips parted on a sigh at the gentle sucking of Ran’s mouth on your nipple, to give him better access to your body, that you see the two men in the doorway.

Your squeak of surprise is genuine as your hand scrambles to clutch Ran’s shoulders. The sound seems to snap both men out of their stupor and you watch as they straighten to their full height. Your mind clears quickly, embarrassment sinking like lead in the pit of your stomach at your actions. Ran’s grin is lazy, almost natural as he glances over his shoulder, you’re grateful for the width of him as he angles his body to block out whatever view they might’ve had of you. One of Ran’s hands still clutches your waist, his thumb rubbing soothing circles as though he knows you’re struggling to get it together.

“Gentlemen?” Ran’s smile falters perfectly, even the breathless hitch in his tone is staged. It feels like a bucket of ice water has been doused on you. Of course. Of course, none of this was real. He’d just saved both your asses. You wonder if he knows you weren’t acting. You tense in his arms and his grip on your waist tightens. “Can we help you?”

“You’re not supposed to be up here,” the shorter one says. Even from here, you can tell he’s the scarier and more than likely Izana’s head of security. Bleached buzzcut with parallel strips of his natural hair color running from the corners of his hairline back. You might’ve giggled at the fact that he resembled a tennis ball if he didn’t pull his gun. His eyes narrow when Ran frowns and glances at you.

“Sorry? Is this not the guest floor?” Ran’s confusion is so convincing you almost don’t feel when he slips the flash drive up your thighs. It takes all of your self-control not to react as his fingers dip into the sticky mess between your thighs and slide the flash drive flat across the crotch of the leotard. Your hand snaps out to clutch his arm and he chuckles. “She’s a needy thing,” he shrugs. “Couldn’t quite make it to my room.”

The taller one adjusts his glasses and steps into the room and Tennis ball follows him. “How’d you get up here, Mr. Haitani?”

Ran blinks at him like he’s stupid. “The elevator?” You squirm in his arms, playing your part as the brainless, shy employee, who’ll probably get in trouble for fraternizing with one of Izana’s VIP guests. Ran straightens to his full height, fixing the straps of your onesie and closing your legs as he turns to face both men. He stands a little shorter than the one with the glasses but he’s broader and you know that if this comes down to a fight you could take the taller one while Ran takes the other. “What’s really going on here? Have I done something wrong?” His tone is carefully accusing.

Glasses sighs through his nose. He knows there’s no way Ran should’ve gotten to this floor undetected but starting a fight with one of Izana’s friends is the last thing he needs to do right now. “This floor is off-limits to guests. They lead to Mr. Kurokawa’s private rooms.”

Ran’s expression morphs into a perfect mask of embarrassment and regret. You hope the horror in your expression as you clamber to your feet, swaying a little in your heels is convincing. “Ah, sorry,” he says, scratching the back of his head in embarrassment. “Got a little distracted,” he motions with his thumb to you over his shoulder and you look away. “We can move.”

He reaches for his jacket when Tennis ball chips in. “Wait a minute,” he says, slipping his gun back into the holster. “You’re not leaving until we search you.”

Ran bristles as they expect him to, head jerking back like he’s been slapped. His jaw clenches, fingers flexing. “The fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“Exactly what I said Mr. Haitani,” Tennis ball snatches Ran’s jacket and passes it to Glasses who begins to rummage through the pockets. “Spread your legs for me.” Ran tenses but does as he’s told.

The flash drive feels like it’s weighing you down as Ran gets the all-clear and Glasses starts toward you. “Seriously?” Ran scoffs. “She’s half-naked, where the fuck would she hide anything?”

That seems to give both men pause. You make sure to shudder for good measure as they step aside. Ran grabs your arm glaring at both men as he drapes his jacket over your shoulders and guides you out of the room. Glasses follows after you, making a quick call for someone to send the elevator down before taking you both down to the VIP floor. “This is you,” he says nodding at Ran as he leads you out of the elevator.

Ran takes you to his room and as soon as the doors are closed you shrug off his jacket. Your heart is pounding in your chest. That could’ve gone horribly. Your hands are trembling as you wobble over to the spacious bathroom.

“You still make the prettiest sounds,” Wakasa’s voice comes over the earpiece, and you yelp, stumbling back and almost falling onto your ass. In the midst of everything it seems you’d both forgotten about Wakasa. “Didn’t mean to startle you,” he says gently. “Just thought you should know. They’re the still prettiest I’ve ever heard.”

“Wakasa,” you hiss. “Can Ran-

“He can’t,” Wakasa reassures you. “I muted us. I’m gonna take these off until you’re out of this room. In case, you want to finish what you started.” You open your mouth to argue that you were just trying to save your asses when Wakasa continues. “And before you tell me you were just trying to stay alive try to remember how well I know you.”

There’s a distinct click and you know Wakasa can no longer hear you. A tentative knock sounds on the door and Ran’s voice carries through the wood. “You good in there?” He asks. “We got what we came for, we can leave.”

His comment reminds you of his earlier actions and you immediately reach between your thighs and pull the slippery flash drive free, yank open the door and slap it against his chest. “Yeah,” you say giddily. “I’m about ready to go.” And then you haul your fist back and slam it into his nose. “Do not ever do some shit like that again,” you snap. “Next time we fucking kill them.”

Ran’s eyes darken, as he clutches his nose. It’s not broken but it hurts like a motherfucker and he’s not at all surprised when he inhales and it burns. His eyes water as he glares at you incredulously. “You’re not serious.”

“Deathly,” you say, releasing the flash drive so he has to scramble to catch it. It’s soaked in your arousal, the scent heady as he clutches it. You poke him in the chest. “If you ever, ever touch me like that again I’ll fucking kill you.”

Silence envelopes you for a few seconds and then Ran chuckles. You’re about to snap at him again when his hand wraps around your throat. “You’re so transparent,” he smirks. “I bet you’re not even mad I touched you.” He squeezes your throat, backing you into the bathroom and closing the door behind him. “You’re probably mad because we were interrupted,” he drops the flash drive on the counter. “Mad that you didn’t get to cum.” He’s slowly cutting off the blood flow to your head, his fingers pressing into the blood vessels on either side of your neck. “Wanted me to clean up the mess I made of your pussy?”

His free arm wraps around your waist and lifts you onto the counter, your hands immediately reach for the wrist of the hand around your throat, your nails dig into the soft flesh as he scoots back onto the counter and spreads your legs to make room for him. You’re dizzy by the time his grip loosens. “Answer me,” his voice softens to just above a whisper, his finger massaging your neck gently. “Do you want me to clean up the mess I made, angel? Is that what this is about?”

You almost shake your head but Ran gives you a look. Like he’ll know if you’re lying. Like you’d be an idiot to pass up this opportunity. So you nod, swallowing when he flashes you a beautiful smile. “Yeah? But I need to hear you say it,” he breathes. “Say ‘Please eat my pussy Ran’. Go on.”

His hand has reached your jaw and his thumb is rubbing distracting little circles into the side of your bottom lip as you repeat after him. A not of breathlessness in your voice. “Please- please eat my pussy Ran.”

His groan as he leans forward to kiss the spot he’d been rubbing has your heart rate increasing, the organ beating wildly at his words. “You don’t know how badly I need to taste you.” He drops to his knees, careful to work your feet out of your heels before he kisses the inside of one ankle and then your calf that he massages and then the inside of your knee and then the fat of your thighs until he’s propping that foot on the edge of the counter and then he does the same to the other. Showering them in kisses, massaging them until they’re jelly and then he’s easing your skirt over your thighs. Working it down to your ankles and discarding it next to him on the floor. He’s almost reverent. The way he treats your body, and it makes sense. Because it feels a lot like he’s worshipping you.

He takes a moment to take you in. The leotard is cut higher than he’d initially expected and he almost salivates as he watches you bring your legs back up to the counter, butterflying them open for him. An entire lip of your pussy has escaped the scrap of material that should be covering it. He can’t help himself when he leans forward to suck the poor flesh into his mouth. And the sound he makes when he finally gets your taste on his tongue makes butterflies erupt in your stomach. One hand wraps loosely around an ankle as he shuffles closer, his nose brushing into your cunt as he pulls back with a wet smack only to latch onto the ruined material between your thighs. His other hand rests in the juncture of your thigh, his thumb pulling apart your pussy. “Look how fucking pretty that is,” he whispers to himself, as strings of arousal stretch and snap each time he repeats the movement. “Fucking hell.”

You reach for his head, fingers sinking into his hair to tug him closer. “Fuck,” you whine. “Ran!” Your body bows when he pushes the material to the side and properly buries his tongue into your cunt. He fucks you with it like you imagine he’d fuck you with his cock. His head bobbing, nose bumping into your clit. He groans again at the rush of liquid that floods his mouth as you squirm.

Ran’s hands press your legs a little wider when he pulls back to spit on your cunt. He watches, eyes wide, lips parted and glistening with your arousal as the spit drips down to your entrance. He drops his head between your legs again just give your clit a soft kiss. He chuckles when you whine his name, your hold on him slackening when he dips the index of one finger into your cunt. Your body swallows him eagerly, your walls squeezing around the digit. He removes it to add another two to it, his brows furrowing as he watches the way your cunt struggles to take those three fingers. “Shit and you’re so fucking tight,” he groans.

You squeal when he stands, fingers still buried in your pussy, to kiss you. He swallows every little noise you make, every whine and gasp as he works your cunt open diligently. Maybe if you weren’t so distracted you might’ve questioned why he’d need to stretch you out this well. But you’re cumming with a soft keen of his name, shuddering in his arms as he fucks you through it. The sound your pussy makes when Ran finally pulls his fingers free makes you burn with embarrassment but the way he casually stuffs those fingers into his mouth, lids fluttering at your taste. He strips with one hand, dragging his silk shirt off and quickly undoing his belt buckle.

By the time his cock springs free you’ve wiggled your way out of the last piece of clothing and you’re dizzy with anticipation. Your first reaction is apprehension. Ran’s cock is thick and heavy, the weight enough to have it hanging between his thighs. He’s also a little longer than average with a fat mushroomed head. Your second reaction is desperation. Imagining the stretch of your pussy to accommodate his cock has you shuffling to the edge of the counter, eyes wide as you reach for his cock to rest it against your cunt.

“Shit,” Ran hisses when his cock makes contact with the slick lips of your pussy. He’s bucking his hips almost instinctively, one hand pressing his cock in place as he fucks your pussy lips steadily. And the picture Ran Haitani makes drunk on you before he’s even slid his cock inside you is enough to have your eyes watering. He’s beautiful. His hair in disarray, sticking to his forehead and standing askew from your hands, his lips swollen from your kisses, his skin flushed from his cheeks to his chest, and his eyes. Hooded and bright with an emotion you cannot identify.

You’re so distracted by him that you don’t register he’s shifted his cock down to your entrance until the head of his cock squeeze into your hole and you choke on a gasp. Ran kisses you then, a slow, deep affair that wipes your mind of any coherent thought. Your stomach flip flops when he pulls you closer to him, wrapping your legs around his body as he wraps his arms around you. The position is so intimate something pangs inside you. Every lap of Ran’s tongue coincides with an inch he’s fucked into you. You’re shaking when you feel his hips bump into your thighs and he’s still not stopped kissing you.

He fucks you there, in short strokes that rubs the head of his cock into your g spot. Kissing you until you can’t breathe and then barely giving you time to catch your breath as he proceeds to tell you about how good you feel. ‘Never felt a pussy like yours angel’, ‘’m never leaving you alone’, ‘’s my pussy now, the best pussy’, ‘tell me it’s mine, tell me it’s my pussy, please’. They’re a mix between a whine and a growl as he begs and grunts and threatens your life and the life of every other man you’ve fucked. It’s the sexiest thing you’ve ever encountered and your body agrees. When your orgasm slams into you you have to drag your lips away from Ran to scream. A garbled mix of his name and thanks, as he fucks you through it, his pace faltering, his hips stuttering as he chases his own high.

You’re both weak in the knees by the time Ran pulls out of you. The silence isn’t awkward as you clean each other up. “So my pussy is your huh?” you say later as you’re waiting in the conference hall for Wakasa and the rest of the team.

“Yeah,” he answers without missing a beat, expression brightening when he catches your smile. “And I really will kill you if you try anything stupid.”

Your smile falls. “What?”

“A bullet right between your eyes,” he holds up finger guns aiming one between your brows. “Pop. Pop,” he chuckles. “I dare you to act dumb.”

You can only swallow around the mounting arousal in your gut because you think you’ve known him long enough to know when he’s bluffing. And based no the slightly crazed look in his eye as Wakasa enters the room you know this is not one of those times.

[nameless-jamie]

Offside Tension - Jamie Tartt x Y/N

Masterlist - Next Chapter

Chapter 7: Crossroads

Two weeks had passed since that night under the floodlights when Jamie had stumbled upon Y/N kicking balls at the goal. It had been a moment neither of them fully acknowledged, but one they couldn’t stop replaying. Since then, they had danced around each other in a way that was painfully obvious to everyone else. Their banter remained, but it was charged with a tension that hadn’t been there before—the kind that made their teammates exchange knowing glances or stifle grins behind their water bottles.

It was during a routine passing drill when the latest example unfolded. Jamie had taken up his usual position near Y/N, offering cheeky comments and challenging her to show him up.

“You sure you can still kick a ball properly?” he teased with a smirk. “Don’t need to prove yourself to the lads, Coach.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the smirk tugging at her lips. “Careful, Tartt. You might learn something if you pay attention.”

As if to make her point, she executed a perfect one-touch pass that zipped cleanly into Isaac’s path. The players let out a collective “oooh,” and Jamie clutched his chest dramatically.

“Wounded, love. Absolutely wounded,” he said, grinning despite himself.

But when Dani made a comment about Y/N’s skill in Spanish, causing her to laugh—a genuine, carefree laugh that lit up her face—Jamie’s grin faltered. He didn’t understand what Dani had said, and he couldn’t help but wonder how Y/N even knew Spanish. But the sound of her laugh, directed at someone else, left an unfamiliar knot in his chest.

“Right, back to work!” Jamie barked, startling the group. The players exchanged amused glances, their suspicions confirmed: Jamie Tartt was the jealous type. Good to know, the team thought.

Later that week, Y/N found herself accompanying Ted to Rebecca’s office for their regular "Biscuits with the Boss" tradition. When they arrived, they found Rebecca and Keeley deep in conversation over a list of names.

“Oh, perfect timing,” Keeley said, looking up with a grin. “We were just talking about the team bonding dinner.”

“Team bonding dinner?” Y/N asked, taking a seat as Ted handed Rebecca her pink biscuit box.

Rebecca nodded. “Yes, I’m organizing it. Formal attire, proper sit-down meal—a chance to remind the players that they’re more than just teammates. They’re family.”

“Formal?” Y/N repeated, a flicker of panic crossing her face. “Like… fancy dresses and all?”

“Absolutely,” Rebecca said with a smile. “Keeley and I thought it’d be nice to elevate the mood.”

“And I don’t suppose I can just… wear my usual blazer and call it a day?” Y/N joked half-heartedly.

Keeley gasped in mock horror. “Babe, absolutely not! Don’t worry—I’ll help you find something.”

Y/N hesitated but eventually relented. “Fine. But nothing too over the top, alright?”

Keeley grinned. “Oh, trust me, you’ll look amazing.”

The evening of the dinner arrived, and Y/N stood in front of the mirror in Keeley’s flat, feeling like an imposter in her own skin. The little black dress Keeley had picked out hugged her curves perfectly, its sleek design both elegant and understated. She paired it with simple heels and a touch of makeup, her hair styled in loose waves.

“You look stunning,” Keeley said, beaming with pride as she adjusted the strap on Y/N’s dress. “Jamie’s gonna lose his mind.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, though her cheeks flushed at the mention of his name. “This isn’t about Jamie.”

Keeley smirked. “Sure it isn’t.”

The venue Rebecca had chosen was nothing short of spectacular, with twinkling fairy lights and an intimate, upscale atmosphere. The team and staff milled about, dressed to the nines, their usual banter laced with excitement.

Jamie arrived with Sam and Dani, his usual swagger intact. But the moment he saw Y/N across the room, talking to Rebecca, he froze. She was radiant, her dress accentuating every curve in a way that made it impossible for him to look anywhere else. For once, Jamie Tartt was utterly speechless.

Rebecca and Keeley exchanged a smug look as they watched Jamie approach the table, his eyes never leaving Y/N.

“Oh, look at that,” Rebecca said dryly. “The plan worked.”

Keeley grinned. “Told you.”

When it came time to sit, Jamie found himself beside Y/N, as planned. She glanced at him, her nerves making her stomach flutter. “You clean up alright, Tartt,” she said, her tone light.

Jamie smirked, though his heart was racing. “You’re not so bad yourself, Coach.”

Their usual banter resumed, but the proximity and the formal setting made every exchange feel electric. Jamie couldn’t stop stealing glances at her, his chest tightening every time she smiled or laughed.

At one point during the meal, a conversation arose about the future of the team and the challenges ahead. When Y/N spoke up, her insights thoughtful and passionate, Jamie found himself hanging on her every word. It struck him then how much her opinion mattered to him—not just as a coach, but as a person. He wanted her to see him as more than just Jamie Tartt, the footballer. He wanted to be someone she could respect, someone she could trust.

By the time dessert arrived, Jamie had made up his mind. He wasn’t just going to pine after Y/N in silence anymore. He was going to show her that he was serious—that he was worth the risk.

As the dinner wound down, Jamie leaned closer to Y/N, his voice low. “You fancy a walk?”

She hesitated, caught off guard by the sudden shift in his tone. But something in his eyes made her nod. “Yeah. I think I’d like that.”

And with that, the night took a turn neither of them had expected—one that would bring them closer to the crossroads they had been inching toward all along.

As they stepped outside, the cool evening air wrapped around them, a welcome contrast to the warmth of the dining hall. The city lights twinkled in the distance, and the faint hum of nightlife filled the air. Jamie walked alongside Y/N, his hands shoved into his pockets, his posture casual but his eyes constantly drifting toward her.

“I didn’t think you’d agree to this, y’know,” he said after a moment, his voice low. “The whole fancy dinner thing, doesn’t seem like your scene.”

Y/N chuckled softly. “Trust me, I didn’t have much of a choice. Rebecca and Keeley are very persuasive. And it's for the team. They've become my family now, I realized that recently.”

“Yeah, they’ve got a way of gettin’ what they want,” Jamie agreed with a grin. He glanced at her, his gaze lingering. “But I’m glad you came. And that you see us, I mean, the team that way.”

Y/N looked over at him, the sincerity in his tone catching her off guard. “Why’s that?”

He shrugged, his smile turning a bit sheepish. “Dunno. Just… nice havin’ you there, I guess. Everybody thinks so. You know, when you walk into a room, all eyes are on you, and you don’t even realize it, love.”

They walked in silence for a while, the sound of their footsteps on the pavement filling the gaps. Jamie seemed unusually thoughtful, his usual bravado replaced with something quieter, more genuine. It made Y/N’s chest tighten in a way she wasn’t ready to analyze.

“You’re different tonight,” she said finally, her voice soft. “Not in a bad way, just… different.”

Jamie stopped walking, turning to face her. The streetlamp above cast a warm glow over them, and for a moment, he just looked at her, his blue eyes searching hers.

“Maybe I’m tryin’ to figure things out,” he admitted. “About… about what I want.”

The words hung between them, heavy with meaning. Y/N felt her heart skip a beat, her mind racing. She didn’t know how to respond, so she did what she always did—she deflected.

“Well, I hope you figure it out,” she said lightly, forcing a smile. “You’re a big boy, Tartt. You’ll manage.”

But Jamie didn’t laugh. He just kept looking at her, his expression unreadable. “What if I already have?”

Y/N’s breath caught, but before she could say anything, Jamie stepped back and gestured toward the path ahead.

“C’mon. Let's walk you back.” Now wasn't the right time, he thought.

They continued in silence, the tension between them almost palpable. When they reached the entrance to the venue, Jamie hesitated, his hands still buried in his pockets.

“Thanks for that walk, I needed some air,” Y/N said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Jamie nodded, his eyes fixed on hers. “Anytime.”

For a moment, it felt like something might happen—a shift, a step forward—but then Y/N broke the moment, turning toward the door.

“Let’s not keep 'em waiting, they'll wonder where we are.”

“Right, after you, Coach,” he replied, the nickname tinged with affection.

As she disappeared inside, Jamie stood there for a moment longer, staring at the now closed venue door. He ran a hand through his hair, letting out a frustrated sigh.

“Proper fucked,” he muttered to himself before turning and heading back into the night. Irish Goodbye.

[elfboyeros]

Modiste

I just wanted to write something funny, it’s been ages since I wrote a Pixane fic, so yeah. I know that the whole plot line of Pixal making the suits for the ninja was to be like “How does she do it? Because of the mini pixs” but I hate those fucking things so they don’t exist in my brain.

“Hello, my love,” Zane remarks stepping out of the elevator and into the hanger bay, “You requested my presence?”

“I’m almost done with your new suit; I want to make sure everything fits correctly.” She informs him as he approaches her workspace.

“It is not as if my body has not changes, specially in the last year, why are you worried about things fitting correctly?”

She looks at him with narrow eyes, a look that tells him not to question her without words while shoving his new suit toward him, “Put the damn suit on.”

He chuckles doing as he’s told becoming her live mannequin as she toddles around him fixing the smallest of things, “I have an inquiry.”

Pixal hums, “Why is my chest exposed?” Zane asks.

He can hear her let out a little laugh, “It is just the way I designed it.”

“Yet, you dislike when I am injured—”

“I feel as if I have the right to dislike it when you are injured, ya’ know because I am your wife.”

“But wouldn’t having my chest exposed to make the chances higher for injuries?”

“Not if you are careful.”

“Pixal, you know it’s not that simple.”

“Yet, when you went to The Island of the Keepers there was no issue with having your left side of your chest exposed and your arm,” Pixal comments.

Zane continues to stare forward as she works behind him, now with a blank and unamazed expression, “I know what face you’re making,” she snickers, “Mad that I’m right?”

“I’m not mad—" He stops speaking as she moves to stand in front of him where is gaze moves directly to her, “I just—”

“I can cover it,” she states, “It would be a shame though.”

“A shame?”

“I think it looks quite nice.”

“You did this on purpose?” Zane observes.

Pixal smirks, “Whatever do you mean?”

Zane hums nodding, “Keep it the way it is,” he remarks, as she turns to that table she’s been working.

“Thank you for letting me have my simple pleasures,” she giggled.

“Anything for you, love,” he declares softly, piddling over to her securing an arm around her waist and kissing her forehead.