#and I was just bubbling with enthusiasm

[likeawildthing]

ok lots of you know how sick I was with COVID and how I’m still sick, three years later, and worsening in some respects (breathing, tachycardia) without apparent cause. Well! They have found a large underlying cause and there is a surgical fix (two concurrent surgeries, actually!), that looks to resolve the breathing and possibly tachycardia and GI tract inflammation. I could hike again! Sit and breath again! Go uphill without passing out!

I still have lifetime management with some things, but I also have hope about my health for the first time in three years. it feels incredible.

[chiropteracupola]

as a dragon, it is very important to have opinions about your human companion's style decisions.

[words by @baronetcoins, pictures by yours truly]

[someprettyname]

Some emoticons that remind me of your online persona (and possibly irl but let's see)

ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

٩( ᐛ )و

ᕦ( ᐛ )ᕡ

ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ

(☞ ᐛ )☞

٩( ᐛ )( ᐖ )۶

(੭ ᐛ )━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

(☞ ͡ ͡° ͜ ʖ ͡ ͡°)☞

(^_^♪)

💪('ω'💪)

＼(^o^)／

The first set is literally you tho lmao

Teehee yep definitely me ♪⁠ ⁠\⁠(⁠^⁠ω⁠^⁠\⁠ ⁠)

And yeah, dw. I am like this irl too lmao xD

I can give an insight on literally everyone of these and why they are a good description of me lmao

[witherbythesword]

.

[rafecameronssl4t]

Misunderstandings || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Summary: Sofia knew what she was doing when mentioning Rafe to you, and she also knew what she was doing when she told you that he never mentioned you, his girlfriend.

Warnings: swearing, fluff at the end, angst

Word count: 873

A/n: kinda really don’t like Sofia 😄

MASTERLIST

Divider by @yoonitos

“Hey, what can I get you?” asks a smiling girl you don’t recognize. She approaches the three of you as you and your close friends settle into the bar stools at the country club, ready to enjoy lunch and catch up. It’s been two weeks since you returned from visiting family overseas, and this gathering feels long overdue.

“Just the usual, please, Sofia,” your friends Kaycee and Jada say with a smile to the brunette server. Her natural beauty was almost unfair. “Coming right up. And for you?” she asks, turning to you. “Oh, uh, the same as them, please,” you respond.

She nods with a soft smile before turning around to start on your drinks. “Is she new?” you inquire, gesturing subtly towards Sofia as your friends glance over at her.

“Hm? Oh, yeah. She started just when you left,” Kaycee responds, her attention shifting back to the menu. You nod slowly in acknowledgment, taking in the information before refocusing your attention on the conversation.

“Is Rafe joining us?” Kaycee inquires, her tone laced with curiosity as she turns her gaze towards you. Just as you open your mouth to respond, Sofia interjects with unexpected enthusiasm, her eyes lighting up. “Rafe’s coming?” Her bubbly expression catches you off guard, and you exchange surprised glances with your friends, wondering why she’s so ecstatic about your boyfriend’s arrival.

There’s a brief moment of silence as you all process Sofia’s reaction, the atmosphere around the table becoming slightly more charged with curiosity. You can’t help but wonder if there’s more to Sofia’s excitement than meets the eye, but before you can dwell on it further, Jada interjects.

“Rafe is—” Before she can finish her sentence, you quickly kick her lightly on the shin to shut her up. “Yeah, he is. You know Rafe?” you smoothly interject, trying to keep your relationship with Rafe a secret for now.

You watch Sofia closely, intrigued by her sudden enthusiasm. To your surprise, she responds with a wide smile, her dimples on full display.

“Yeah. Yeah— he’s pretty cute. Great company too when I’m closing up,” Sofia remarks casually, her tone tinged with a hint of admiration. You raise an eyebrow at her words, sensing a shift in the conversation.

“Really?” you inquire, trying to conceal your surprise. Sofia chuckles softly as she dries a few cups, her movements graceful and effortless. “Yeah, you’d think he has a girlfriend, right? With all that charm he has,” she muses, a small sigh escaping her lips.

You exchange a quick glance with Jada and Kaycee, both of them wearing wide-eyed expressions that mirror your own astonishment.

Ignoring the wide-eyed looks from Jada and Kaycee and the unsettling feeling creeping up from your stomach, you clear your throat, attempting to maintain composure. “I for sure thought that he had a girlfriend,” you say, feigning innocence as you try to mask the rising anger within you.

Sofia shakes her head, her demeanor casual as she continues drying the cups. “Nope. He never mentioned he had one,” she replies, her tone nonchalant.

You roll your tongue against your cheek as you lean back, a wave of frustration nearly bubbling over. Despite your efforts to keep calm, the revelation leaves you feeling betrayed and unsure of what to make of Rafe’s silence about his relationship status.

Your phone suddenly pings, breaking the tension, and you glance down at it, noticing a text from Rafe saying he’s on his way. “That’s really interesting. Thanks for letting me know, Sof,” you say with forced politeness, though your lips purse together and you cross your arms, staring down at your feet, trying to process the mix of emotions swirling inside you.

“Letting you know what?” Sofia innocently chuckles, oblivious to the storm brewing in your mind. Without answering her, you and your friends silently agree to move to another table to have your meals, needing some distance from the uncomfortable conversation.

“What the fuck,” Jada whispers angrily as you walk away from the bar, her frustration palpable. “How does she not know you’re Rafe’s girlfriend? Everyone on this damn island knows it,” Kaycee adds, her voice tinged with disbelief.

As you find a new table, the weight of Sofia’s obliviousness hangs heavy in the air, leaving you to wonder how Rafe could have kept such a significant detail about your relationship hidden from someone you thought was just a casual acquaintance.

You scoff, the frustration and anger boiling over as you aggressively put your purse on the table. “Obviously not her, because Rafe made her believe that he was fucking single. What a fucking dick,” you huff, the bitterness evident in your voice.

The realization hits you like a ton of bricks. You thought you could trust Rafe, especially after being with him for years now and never bumping into an issue like this. You would have never thought he’d do something like this, keeping such a significant detail about your relationship hidden and potentially leading someone else on.m, especially with how protective he is of you outside.

Fifteen minutes later, you notice Jada and Kaycee awkwardly looking at something behind you, and you can sense that it’s Rafe approaching. You feel his arms wrap around your shoulders, and he leans down to kiss your cheek, but you keep your gaze fixed elsewhere, unimpressed by his display of affection.

The tension in the air is palpable as you struggle to maintain composure, feeling a mixture of resentment and disappointment toward Rafe for his recent actions.

“Hey,” Rafe says to you, but you remain quiet, refusing to engage with him. “Ladies,” he greets your friends with a forced smile as he takes off his sunglasses.

“Hi,” they both respond awkwardly, exchanging glances. The next few seconds are filled with tense silence as Rafe attempts to decipher your mood.

“Uh, we’re just gonna go to the bathroom,” Jada announces suddenly, her voice strained as she gets up, pulling Kaycee along with her. Rafe lets out a breath, his shoulders sagging slightly as he watches them leave. The lingering tension between you and him hangs heavy in the air, leaving both of you at a loss for words.

“What’s wrong, princess?” Rafe asks, his voice laced with concern as he places his large hand on your thigh. But you quickly remove it, unable to bear his touch.

You can feel the hurt in his expression as he recoils slightly, his hand dropping to his side. The silence between you stretches, heavy with unspoken words and unresolved tension. Despite his attempt to reach out, you remain distant, the sense of betrayal and disappointment still raw within you.

“Do you know Sofia?” you finally speak up, breaking the tense silence. “Who? Oh— yeah. Sof. What about her?” Rafe responds, his confusion evident. You let out a scoff at the nickname, unable to hide your annoyance. “How come she doesn’t know you have a girlfriend?” you demand, your frustration bubbling over.

Rafe’s eyebrows furrow at your word, shrugging, “How would I fuckin’ know—““Oh, I don’t know, Rafe, maybe because you’re the one that made her believe that,” you interject sarcastically, rolling your eyes at his attempt to feign innocence. The weight of your words hangs in the air, the tension between you escalating with each passing moment.

“Don’t give me that fucking attitude,” Rafe snaps angrily, his frustration evident. “You’re so full of shit, Rafe. You purposely left out the fact that you had a girlfriend so you could get into her pants!” you retort, your voice rising ever so slightly with indignation. He hushes you, casting a quick glance around the room before grabbing your hand and pulling you away from the table.

Sofia’s wandering eyes don’t go unnoticed as she looks at the two of you with furrowed eyebrows, her curiosity evident as Rafe leads you outside.

“Let go of me,” you demand, pushing Rafe’s hands away from you as you stand your ground, creating distance between the two of you. The intensity of your emotions swirls within you, a mixture of anger, hurt, and betrayal driving your actions.

“Look, I dunno what the fuck she said to you, but it’s not what it seems.” Your lips part in shock at his words. “Then go ahead, Rafe! Tell me!” you demand, throwing your arms up in exasperation. One of his hands pinches the bridge of his nose while the other rests on his hip, a sign of his growing frustration.

“Okay, okay, what—what’d she tell you?” His tone begins to calm down slightly. “She said you kept her company and never mentioned having a girlfriend—” Rafe cuts in sharply, “—she never asked—” “Shut the fuck up while I’m talking!” you retort, your voice laced with irritation at his interruption.

Your grip tightens on your handbag, your knuckles turning white as Rafe throws his head back in frustration, his eyes closing briefly as if trying to collect his thoughts. “She was new on the island and had no one. I was only talking about the places that she could visit around the island- that’s it- I swear.”

“What?” you snap, your eyes locking with Rafe’s as he stares at you intensely. “My phone was literally right under her nose, Y/N. She would’ve seen my lock screen of you,” he scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief. His frustration is evident, but so is yours, each of you standing firm in your stance.

“Look, I’m sorry, alright? I thought I made it quite clear that I had a missus when I literally picked up your call in front of her on Saturday night.” Your eyes soften at his words. You remember the call vividly: the clinking of glasses and the murmur of conversations in the background when he mentioned he was at the country club.

You can still hear his voice, calm and steady, as he reassured you of his whereabouts. The memory tugs at your heart, causing a flicker of doubt about your initial assumptions. You begin to question whether you might have misunderstood the situation, your anger wavering as you process his explanation.

You let out a shaky breath, crossing your arms in an attempt to shield yourself from him. “I’m sorry. It’s just—the way Sofia made it out to be, you never mentioned me,” you quietly admit, your eyes fixed on your Hermès sandals. The silence stretches between you, heavy with unspoken tension, until suddenly you feel his arms enveloping you in a hug.

His embrace is warm and reassuring, melting away some of the lingering doubt and frustration. It’s a silent acknowledgment of your feelings, a wordless apology for any misunderstanding. You close your eyes, allowing yourself to lean into his embrace.

“Babe, ‘s fine, should’ve known she was a jealous little thing,” Rafe murmurs, his lips brushing against the crown of your head as he sighs. With the side of your face pressed against Rafe’s firm chest, your senses are filled with nothing but him. His heartbeat reverberates against your cheek, a steady rhythm that grounds you in the present moment.

NEXT PART

[kaciidubs]

Are You Still Watching?

✧ Summary: It was meant to be a sweet gesture to treat you to a surprise at-home date - what a shame that the pajamas that were supposed to be covering your bodies were now on the floor. ✧  ✧ Word Count: 1.8k ✧ Warnings: Smut, fluff, light humor, slight Dom/Sub dynamics, daddy kink, spitroasting, slight choking ✧  ✧ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ✧  ✧ Additional Tags: Reader is referred to as Good Girl, Baby, Pup, Slut, Seungmin is referred to as Minnie, Chris is referred to as Daddy, Baby ✧ Stray Kids Masterlist ✧ General Masterlist

You’d appreciated the effort they put in on the surprise date night; the living room decorated with small tea light candles as the coffee table held an array of your combined favorite snacks. They’d even treated you to your favorite restaurant for take out - and by they, you really meant Chris, seeing as he would rather be struck by lightning than have you or Seungmin pay for anything (though, recently, he has been getting better at letting you both exercise your independence).

However, your favorite detail of the whole night was the way they basically transformed the couch into a sea of blankets and pillows - Seungmin making sure to include your favorite fluffy blanket to be shared between the three of you - which only made it more shameful to note that it was currently crumpled on the floor with pajamas that should’ve been covering your bodies.

“C’mon, you can take more than that, can’t you?”

You made a sound of indigence, eyebrows pinching as the pressure on the back of your head increased just a bit.

“Minnie, don’t - ah, fuck - don’t force her, give her a second.”

As usual, Chris’s caring tone added a lighter caress to Seungmin’s bite, though those sweet words could only do so much as his hips twitched up, unintentionally pushing more of his length past your lips.

Seungmin scoffed, a humored, lighthearted sound as his eyes narrowed, “You do realize, she’s the one who told me I could do this, right? She likes it, you know she does - don’t act like you don’t like it either, hyung.”

Punctuating his point, he pressed further against the back of your head and you dropped your jaw to allow Chris’s cock to slide along your tongue and prod at the back of your throat, before letting his grip pull you back up for a little reprieve.

“Bub wants to be used like a little slut - are you going to deny her that?”

You keened at his words, flicking your tongue around the head of Chris’s cock for further coaxing - you were okay with it, more than okay, and seeing your enthusiasm served to whittle him down more.

“G-Gonna be a good girl f’me and take it?”

Your head shifted slightly, a nod, as much as you could give with Seungmin’s hold on you remaining firm and secure.

That was all he needed to see as he spread his legs just a bit more, planting his feet before thrusting his hips up; his dick easily finding its way down your throat from the way Seungmin kept your head at the perfect level.

The living room soon filled with the sounds of your choked moans, wet slurps, and breathless groans as Chris fucked your mouth with ease; one arm laid along the back of the couch while the other braced against the cushions to aid in the leverage he needed.

“God, fuck, look at you,” he hissed, cocking his head in order to catch the way your cheek puffed up and hollowed out with each stroke, the shine of saliva bubbling at the corner of your lips sending his mind into a frenzy. “Pretty little thing letting daddy use your mouth like this - wouldn’t have it any other way, hm?”

Replying in kind, you dipped your head lower, working past the resulting gag on the following thrust with nothing but pure determination and need.

“Fuck.” Both men spoke in unison, a sound filled with equal parts desperation and fascination.

The sloppy sounds of Chris’s cock leaving and entering your mouth bounced off the walls of the living room more frequently, his pace growing faster as he began to chase the hints of his impending orgasm.

“‘M gonna come soon,” he gasped out, lidded eyes trained on the way your head rocked and bobbed, but stayed relatively in the same position Seungmin held you in, “be good and swallow it all, okay, baby? J-Just a little longer- shit.”

You tightened your lips around his girth, determined to hold everything he gave you, and like clockwork his dick twitched against your tongue followed by the bitterness of his seed filling your mouth.

He came with staggered breaths, his stomach heaving with each wave that coursed through him until his body fell lax against the couch.

The grip on the back of your head vanished, though another presence made itself known underneath your chin, slowly pulling you away from the softening cock between your lips - Chris hissing from the determined suction you kept to take the remnants of his orgasm with you.

Turning your head towards him, your eyes met his lust fogged ones, pupils blown and a considerable glow emanating from his body.

“Show daddy.”

He watched as the muscles in your throat subtly shifted before you parted your lips, tongue lolling out to show the inside of your mouth void of his cum.

“Good girl,” he murmured, pressing his thumb against your tongue.

Your lips eagerly wrapped around the digit, holding his strong gaze as you sucked on it daringly - priding yourself on the way his tongue pressed to the inside of his cheek, eyes narrowing at your boldness.

However, your little show was cut short as you felt a pair of hands dragging you back by your hips, blindly following the lead as your legs were guided up and over the arm of the couch, planting your feet firmly on the hardwood while your hips rested against the cushioned arm.

“Alright, alright, I’m here too.” Seungmin mumbled, though his cadence expressed a playful annoyance than anything else as he ran his hands along the curve of your ass, “Channie hyung shouldn’t have all the fun - this was my idea.”

There wasn’t enough time to counteract with a statement of your own as you felt the blunt tip of his cock nudge against your pussy, sliding through your arousal with a gentle rock of his hips.

“Seungmin, please.”

He gave a light huff, but you could practically see the amused smirk undoubtedly on his lips, “So needy, pup.”

However, you could argue that he was needier as he gripped your hip tighter, his other hand supporting the base of his dick as he began to slowly push past your walls - a hiss of satisfaction falling from his lips in the process.

Your head fell forward, a low moan floating through your parted lips; though, it didn’t last long as a finger hooked underneath your chin and gently lifted your head back up.

“Feels good, doesn’t he, baby?”

Lust fogged eyes locked with darkened ones, a familiar hunger lingering in his irises that had your pussy clenching as a result.

You felt yourself getting lost in his hypnotizing stare, sinking deeper and deeper into the pool of desire until a thrust jolted you forward - breaking you from your reverie with a choked out moan.

Then came another, then another, then another, until you were steadily rocking against the arm of the couch as Seungmin fucked you as he pleased; hard and thorough with a hand gripping your hip while the other remained steady at the back of your neck.

“Jesus, she’s so wet,” he groaned, lidded eyes locked on the curve of your ass, “bet she’s been turned on since we started this whole ‘date’.”

“Yeah? You think so?” A low chuckle left Chris as he took in your lust fogged expression, “She’s probably been waiting for one of us to put our hands on her ever since we got to the couch, spoiled little thing.”

A slap rang through the air, your yelp of pain melting into a needy whine while Seungmin’s hand massaged the cheek of your ass.

“Needy little slut,” squeezing the flesh, he hummed, “it’s cute, though - probably means we’re doing something right.”

Your breath caught at their words, an addictive mix of embarrassment and arousal flowing through your veins like molten lava - stomach twisting and walls clenching that only served to intensify Seungmin’s precise thrusts.

“Oh, she liked that.” His hand slid around your hip and between your legs, a deft finger easily finding purchase on your neglected clit, “Did you like it enough to come for me, pup? I can feel you clenching, I know you’re close - come for me.”

A larger hand made its presence known around your neck with a firm grasp, not enough to cut off your airflow, yet still present enough to have your eyelids fluttering and lips parting in a small ‘o’.

“Go ahead,” Chris cooed in a velvety tone, gently squeezing his fingers against the column of your neck, “come for Minnie, baby - come so he can fill you up just how you like, yeah?”

The mere thought of his orgasm had yours slamming into you faster than you could comprehend - your legs nearly buckling as you gripped the couch cushion, while a staccato of moans floated past your lips.

“Seung- Baby- A-Ah- Fuck!”

Seungmin mirrored your curse with one of his own, forced through gritted teeth as his finger continued to slide against your clit, drawing out your orgasm as long as he could until his body tensed - grunting out a small “‘M c-coming-” before pressing his hips flush to yours.

Chris’s hand slowly left your neck, granting you the ability to let it fall forward and relieve some tension off your shoulders; the sound of heavy footsteps walking out of the living room keying you into what he set off to do next.

A pair of lips pressed to your shoulder blade, followed by another kiss to the junction near the base of your neck, leading you to let out a soft giggle.

“I’m okay, Minnie.”

“Even after what I said…?”

His voice was right next to your ear, soft and a tad meek - you couldn’t help but nudge the side of his head with your own, “Baby, you calling me a slut barely breaks the surface of what I can get Channie to call me if I push hard enough - I’m perfectly fine with being your ‘needy slut’ if that’s what you need in the moment.”

He made a sound that could only be described as bashful embarrassment, choosing to respond by leaning forward to peck your cheek before pulling away at the sound of footsteps once more.

After a quick - gentle and careful - wipe down with a washcloth provided by Chris, a few bathroom trips, and a refresh on snacks, the three of you settled back onto the couch like before - sans pajamas.

“So,” Chris hummed, rotating the remote in his hand, “are we still watching this, or…?”

You held back your laugh as best you could with Seungmin laid on top of you, eyes already closed and determined to stay that way. “Keep it on as background noise?”

Nodding, he selected ‘keep watching’ before tossing the remote to the coffee table and tugging you closer against his side.

✧. ┊Tagged lovelies: @having-an-internal-crisis-rn, @midnightfrog625, @anyhow-everything, @bangchanbabygirlx, @sweetracha, @nightimescapes, @caitlyn98s, @ch4nn13luv, @ihrtlix, @jeonjungkookenthusiast1997, @maximumkillshot, @y-ur--i, @acker-night, @dreamescapeswriting, @specialstay, @s00buwu, @tinyelfperson, @jj-stay, @katsukis1wife, @inlovewithmusician, @keen-li, @armystay89, @main-character0, @vampcharxter, @ddyskz, @prettymiye0n, @bbgnyx, @bahng-chrizz, @milknhoneyracha, @hann1bee, @palindrome969, @newhope8, @kpopsstuffs, @starquokka, @wolfs-howling, @laylasbunbunny, @4-chan-inpadella, @butterflydemons, @kimahreummm, @ta3baee, @snowy-violet, @bethanysnow

✧. ┊If your username is in bold italics that means tumblr won't let me tag you. If you’d like to be added to the taglist, fill out this form!

[lev1hei1chou]

A What?

Gojo x reader Genre: Fluff Synopsis: You ask for a baby out of nowhere Masterlist Requests open!

"Hey, Satoru, I want a baby."

The man choked on his cereal. Milk splattered across the table, and he coughed, looking at you with wide, incredulous eyes. "You what?"

You grinned, loving his reaction. "I want a baby."

Gojo blinked, processing your words. "Like...a human baby? With diapers and all?"

You laughed. "Yes, Satoru, a human baby. Not a cursed spirit baby or a baby goat. A tiny human."

He leaned back in his chair, still stunned. "You can't just drop a bomb like that while I'm eating my Froot Loops, babe. Give a guy some warning."

You shrugged, leaning over to wipe a speck of milk off his cheek. "I thought you could handle anything."

"Yeah, curses and evil sorcerers, sure. But this...this is a whole new level of scary." He ran a hand through his white hair, making it stand up in more directions than usual. "Are you serious?"

"Dead serious." You sat down across from him, your expression softening. "I think we'd make great parents."

He looked at you, eyes softening. "Of course we would. I mean, look at us. We're awesome."

You snorted. "Modest, as always."

"Hey, it's not arrogance if it's true." He grinned, then grew serious again. "But...a baby? That's a big deal."

"I know. But I want to start a family with you, Satoru."

He was silent for a moment, then his lips curved into a smile. "Okay. Let's do it."

You blinked. "Really? Just like that?"

He shrugged. "Why not? I've always wanted kids. Didn't think about it too much because, you know, job hazards and all. But if you want a baby, then I want a baby. Simple as that."

You laughed, feeling a wave of relief and excitement. "Simple as that, huh?"

"Yep." He stood up, suddenly energized. "Alright, let's make a baby right now."

Your eyes widened. "Satoru, we can't just...it's the middle of the day!"

"Details, details." He waved a hand dismissively. "I'm the strongest sorcerer in the world. I can make time for baby-making."

You couldn't help but laugh at his enthusiasm. "How romantic."

He waggled his eyebrows. "Oh, I can be romantic. Just you wait."

The next few days were filled with Gojo's attempts at being "romantic." You came home to rose petals scattered all over the living room (which the cat was now batting around), a candlelit dinner (where he nearly set the kitchen on fire), and a bubble bath for two (where he splashed so much water that the bathroom flooded).

"You're really trying, aren't you?" you said, toweling off your hair after the bath fiasco.

He pouted. "I'm trying to set the mood."

You kissed his cheek. "I appreciate it, Satoru. But we don't need all this. Just you and me, together. That's enough."

He smiled, pulling you into his arms. "You're right. As always."

That night, lying in bed, he turned to you with a mischievous look in his eye. "So, about that baby..."

You laughed, swatting his chest. "Okay, okay. Let's do this."

A few weeks later, you found yourself holding a pregnancy test in your hand, heart pounding. Gojo was pacing back and forth in the bathroom, looking more nervous than you'd ever seen him.

"Okay, okay, okay," he muttered. "It's fine. Whatever it says, it's fine."

You glanced at the test, then at him. "Satoru, you need to calm down."

He stopped pacing and looked at you, taking a deep breath. "Right. Calm. I can do calm."

You held up the test, a smile spreading across your face. "We're having a baby."

For a moment, he just stared at you, then he whooped, lifting you off the ground and spinning you around. "We're having a baby! I'm gonna be a dad!"

You laughed, holding onto him. "Yes, you are. And you're going to be amazing."

He set you down, his eyes shining. "We're going to be amazing."

Months passed in a whirlwind of doctor's appointments, baby shopping, and Gojo's over-the-top preparations. He baby-proofed the house, even the ceiling, "just in case the baby is super strong and starts climbing walls."

"Satoru, that's ridiculous," you said, watching as he padded the corners of the coffee table with foam.

He looked up at you, serious. "Safety first, babe."

When the day finally came, Gojo was more nervous than you. He held your hand in the delivery room, eyes wide as he watched the process.

"You're doing great," he whispered, though it seemed like he was saying it more to himself than to you.

Hours later, when the baby finally arrived, Gojo stared at the tiny bundle in his arms, tears in his eyes. "Hi there, little one. I'm your dad."

You smiled, exhausted but happy. "And I'm your mom."

He looked at you, his expression full of love and awe. "We did it."

You nodded, feeling a surge of emotion. "Yeah, we did."

[h4venpha]

⸺ too much ( 18+ )

✦ sylus x reader smut contents: blowjob, dom/sub, size kink, gagging, choking wc: 750 notes: ugh... yk how sylus talks in that slow, calm tone. I LOVEEEE ITT like i can so clearly hear him while writing this out pls do the same. anyway the end was a little sloppy but hey this is my first time writing in months gimme a break

“is this really all you’ve got for me?”

you blink back tears and look up at him, sniffling as you pull off his cock a little. you’re breathing hard through your nose, tears and drool all over your face as sylus looks down at you with his signature bored gaze. even with his dick throbbing in between your wet lips, there’s barely any sign of pleasure on his face. he looks disappointed. and it makes you want to cry.

“poor thing.” sylus hums in a patronizing voice, exhaling as he leans down to brush a stray tear from your cheek. “do you need a break, sweetie? is that it?” you were struggling to breathe from repeatedly choking and sputtering around him. and you never did speak up about needing a breather, always so insistent on trying to prove something to him. as much as he loves the feeling of your tight, warm throat, he’s not a monster. 

you sniffle and shake your head, hands wrapping around the base of his length to keep him from pulling away. “no- i can do it.” you swallow thickly, blinking away your tears and with renounced determination.

 too bad you can’t see the smug look on his face. “suit yourself.” he leans back again, tilting his head and watching with a playful smile.

you give sylus’ leaking tip a small, sticky kiss and watch with half lidded eyes when it twitches. you give him a slow stroke from the base of neatly trimmed white hair to the swollen red tip before parting your lips and sliding the head back into your perfect, warm mouth. you slide your tongue across the underside, breathing deep through your nose.

“mhm.” he hums as he feels the hot drag of your tongue over the curve of his tip. you mouth your way down his thick length, drooling down his dick causing it to gather at your fist wrapped around the base. with your mouth attached to his tip, you give him another stroke, spreading the spit along his length. with a shaky breath, you ease your lips down his cock. 

sylus doesn’t help  other than gently cradling the back of your head, he much rather enjoys watching the way your eyes roll back into your head at the taste of his cock, the way you get so eager and excited, slurping and suckling with enthusiasm. it was all too cute. 

“much better.” sylus breathes steadily, sitting up and curling his other hand under your chin, gently holding you on his length. his thumb brushes soothingly under your jaw as he speaks. “ready? tap me if you need to stop.” with the slight nod of your head, he firmly sinks your head down.

sylus bites back a groan when he feels his tip brush against the back of your throat. “breathe through your nose, kitten.” he says, his voice hoarse.

you swallow on his cock, gagging as you try to control your breathing. but just like he predicted, you’re starting to slobber, causing thick bubbles of spit and precum beginning to collect on his length. even with the slick slide of your lips on his skin, tears brim your eyes once more as you choke and sputter around his length. 

even with all your effort to please him: hands stroking at the base, trying to take him as deep as possible while simultaneously trying not to gag every time you take more than half. it’s just too much. and he knows that. through the haze in your head, you hear sylus sigh deeply. 

“all right, that’s enough, sweetie.” sylus chuckles softly before his dick suddenly eases out of your throat, air immediately rushing into your lungs as you cough. he tilts your head up at him as he looks over the tears and spit on your face. the embarassment and shame on your face is cute too.

“a-already?-”

“yes, already. come here.” sylus coaxes, hooking his hands under your arms and lifting you easily into his lap. even as you pout, your arms wrap around his neck as you sniffle and pant quietly.

“shh shh, calm down.” sylus soothes slowly. “i don’t want you to hurt yourself.” he brushes away your tears with his thumb, looking at you fondly even with a smirk on his face. he wasn’t teasing you, he just couldn’t help how he loved the look on your face after failing to make him cum for the third night in a row.

“let’s try again tomorrow, hm?"

[catiuskaa]

you asked me to stay. [Not yet].

PAIRING! idol!bangchan x reader

SUMMARY: even if idols 'don’t date fans', there are no rules against a little bit of teasing, and so it happens that Mr Bang Chan here really likes your kind of thinking.

WC: 4.1k

CW: starts off fluffy, then angsty if you squint?, but develops into a (short but still) spicy NSFW. lol, the triangle of (fan)fiction! not gonna say anything else cause I don’t want to spoil it, teehee. Have fun! (I did!)

REQUESTED! here by my sweet 'n spicy baby @sharonxdevi, hope you like my take on it! <3

A/N: wanted to pop down here as a reminder that just because the setting is a fan meeting and yada yada, this work is still unrelated to Channie as an idol. now, please keep reading! I really like how this one turned out 🤭

[♦���☆🔒☆♦️]

He's so sweet.

You kept giggling and blushing like an idiot, but how couldn't you? The Christopher Bang was right before you, smiling and laughing at the lame jokes you blabbered as a blush surely creeped out, your face a deep shade of a pinkish tone.

“Oh, and I wanted to mention that you look so amazing in your performances! You have me addicted, Chan.” You giggled.

He chuckled, blushing lightly, raising a hand to his mouth, half covering it. “Really?”

You could melt at the sight of him.

“Yeah! I’ve watched all your fancams.” You nodded with enthusiasm.

His laughs turned louder, his ears red. “I feel so shy knowing someone as pretty as you watches me dance so much.”

…

You blinked, your eyes wide.

As what?

He cheeked his tongue, eyeing at you sheepishly.

Oh. So he knew what he was doing.

You smirked softly. Your change in attitude made him raise his eyebrows slightly.

“One minute.”

You eyed at the suited man that came to talk to Chan and smiled. He left back to his position, and you leaned closer to the idol.

“Just have to say, that tongue of yours?” You chuckled, and to him, it was one fo the most enticing sounds he had heard in a while. “Keep it in your mouth if you don’t want STAY to act up.”

There was a bubbly feeling in your stomach that only heightened when you watched his face displaying raw surprise.

You were about to combust in spontaneous fire because, well, you just flirted with an idol, a real famous one, that is, but then, he smirked, leaning even closer to you. You could feel his breath on the shell of your ear. His hand softly took yours, and your breath hitched as he snickered playfuly, making you feel a shiver travel down your spine.

“I’m thinking there are far more interesting places where I could keep it.” He grinned in a teasing tone, staring at your lips for a second, licking his own. “But I’m obedient. I’ll keep my mouth shut if you say so.” He stated lowly, his eyes locked on yours. …

Oh.

OH.

MY GOD.

He squeezed your hand, sitting back again. His face was covered by a shade of red, and he couldn’t exactly place what had taken over him.

For a moment, he bit his lip, wary of your reaction, considering you hadn’t so much as muttered anything, frozen in your place.

But then you chuckled, struggling to grasp what had just happened, and his whole body relaxed when you squeezed his hand too.

“Bet. You won’t.” You snickered, standing up, siren eyes staring down at him as you moved away, allowing the next person’s turn.

He winked at you as you left.

W-What had just happened?

Your mind felt fuzzy.

Had Bang Chan just done the triangle method on you?

Chan stared at your back before facing the person in front of him.

He could’ve sworn he had seen you before.

[♦️☆🔒☆♦️]

“YOU DID WHAT?!”

Chan grimaced at Hyunjin, sinking his head back on the pillow in his hotel room.

“Leave him alone, Jinnie.” Yongbok frowned slightly. “But I have to say. Not the smartest move, mate.”

Chan sighed in frustration. “I know, I know.”

And it was because he knew that he didn’t dare to say, but just thinking about you, he also knew for a fact that he wouldn’t hesitate on doing it again. Had he had the opportunity, maybe even more.

But idols don’t do that.

Because it is for a reason that idols don’t date fans. Marketing? 100%. Sure. But it also protected them from scandals and such. Or that’s what Chan liked to say to himself.

Felix felt a bit guilty. Chan had gotten scolded by almost all the members now, some who went more ballistic than others —like Hyunjin, who still was fuming, claiming that if Chan was going to do something forbidden, he could’ve said something better than that—, but he looked at the fellow Australian and stood up, laying his small hand on Hyunjin’s shoulder.

The taller one stopped his rambling against Chan and his alleged lack of creativity regarding flirting, and his eyes softened, looking at Yongbok.

“Give the man a break.” Felix smiled softly. “He understands what he’s done. He’s a big boy. Right, Channie?”

The big boy lazily raised his hand from the bed, not moving his head from the pillow as he hummed and raised his thumb.

“This bitch—” Hyunjin started, threatening to throw a pillow at the older one, but Felix quickly pushed him away, taking him back to their room.

Finally alone after what seemed like a lifetime, Chan turned around, staring at the ceiling.

He covered his face with his hands.

Reckless. Stupid, reckless idiot.

It had to be past twelve when he got tired of waiting for sleep to get to him. That never happened anyways. So he stood up with a groan, yawning out of boredom, quickly fetching a jacket and heading to the elevators with slow steps.

He got in and slowly started to put on his beanie and his mask, which wouldn’t really make a difference if someone recognized him, still, it gave him some reassurance. But then, the elevator stopped barely two floors after he got in.

His whole body tensed up.

He recognized who stepped in, messy hair, funny slippers and padded jacket on.

He knew who that was, because he had been right.

He had seen you before.

“Oh.” You smiled, and he could tell by the small wrinkles in your eyes, because the bottom half of your face was hidden by the jacket’s high neck. “Good night.” You mumbled softly.

He nodded. He was afraid you’d recognize him. He was unsure of what to do himself —or if he should do anything—, he couldn’t even think of how you would react. And just the idea that you wouldn’t like seeing him there made him hide his face more in his dark mask, so instead, he fidgeted with his room card, not daring to look at you for too long.

“Trouble sleeping?” You pondered in a kind tone. He nodded again, and you smiled. He had to hold back the impulse of lowering your jacket just so he could see your bright features, the ones that had charmed him so much barely a couple of hours ago.

“Same here.” You muttered, and he could’ve sworn that your voice alone, warm and soothing, could singlehandedly lull him to sleep in a heartbeat. “Walking helps though, don’t you think?”

He, again, just managed to nod. But for some reason, your presence didn’t make him feel guilty for not talking. In the middle of the night nothing seemed to have any rules between you two and the four walls of the elevator.

“Sorry, am I bothering you?” You asked in a murmur.

It was the first time he shook his head no, vigorously so, and you blushed lightly, smiling.

“Good to know.” You grinned, chuckling softly. The elevator dinged, arriving to the last floor. Chan held back a frustrated groan, yearning to keep hearing your voice.

“Have a good night.” You smiled, but his hand softly took yours.

“Huh?” You muttered softly.

Chan struggled. Fuck, shit, fuck. He had done that completely out of reflex. He didn’t know what to say, and just scrathed the side of his face, staring at your linked hands.

He shook his head once more, asking you to stay.

To you, you already had the weird feeling that you knew him. But he touched your hand, and something from it felt shockingly familiar.

Now, you could’ve sworn you had seen him before.

“What is it?” You asked, your voice coated in something sweet, something that Chan suddenly wanted to taste. “Would you like to walk with me?”

He nodded eagerly. And you grinned sheepishly.

You two crossed through the hotel main’s hall nonchalantly, and Chan just followed you, intriegued that you hadn’t taken the main entrance door to exit.

“Trust me,” you muttered, smiling. He felt it was scary that he would, in a heartbeat. “The gardens are so much better.”

You took his hand. A motion completely out of reflex, that both of you only allowed yourselves to yearn for in silence.

You grinned at him, turning around, and his breath hitched, lips parted beneath his mask when he realized how close you were.

You opened a black door to your right with a soft push of your body.

The hotel gardens at night were like a dream. The moonlight turned everything into a soft, magical scene. Tall trees swayed quietly, and you could hear crickets and leaves rustling. There was a small lake below it, its water calm, that reflected the image above it like a mirror, moon and stars glistening on the clear surface.

Even if Chan was only looking at the glow through your eyes.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” You grinned.

You stared back at him. Something in his eyes reminded you of someone you knew. A peculiar someone, that is.

He hummed in agreement, and your smile widened.

“Shall we?” You giggled in a murmur, letting him step outside before you.

There was a warmth in the night that ushered Chan to take off his mask and hat.

But he didn’t dare to. Not yet.

You two walked alongside, hands and knuckles brushing against each other, and the idol allowed himself to grin as you smiled, looking at the flowers that decorated the place. It was the first time in his life that he had found solace in the shared silence of insomnia.

With a swift motion, he surrendered. He felt like it wasn’t fair to know who you where if you didn’t —or couldn’t— recognize him. To hell with it, he thought, taking his hat and mask off.

But, much to his surprise, you didn’t so much as glance at him. You just snickered when he sighed, sounding happier, breathing in the sudden cold breeze that swooshed in the garden.

“Better, huh?” You mumbled in light amusement.

He smiled, shoving his hidden identity in his pockets.

“Much.” Chan muttered.

His heart beat loudly on his ears. He could feel it pulsating rapidly, waiting for the moment where you would turn to face him.

But you weren’t, just strolling down the stone path, callously ignoring his nervous demeanour.

He was about to stop and move you, but instead, your hand took his again.

And then you squeezed it lightly. Much like he had done a couple of hourse ago.

His breath hitched. He stopped walking.

“Chan?” You smiled.

He felt chaos unravel inside him, his cheeks blushing, his palms getting sweaty, and his heart giddily beating in his chest.

Another rush of soft air crossed through the hotel’s gardens, making your hair move with it. He could smell your light scent, something that felt warm inside him, something that he felt could lull him asleep.

You grinned.

“Hi.”

He chuckled lowly. He hadn’t let go of your hand. A part of him didn’t want to. Not yet.

“Hi.”

He saw you blush under the moonlight, not knowing his red-tinted cheeks were more obvious than yours.

“What’s a boy as pretty as you doing in a place like this?”

…

He blinked, his eyes wide.

As what?

He saw you cheek your tongue, doe eyes looking at him teasingly.

Oh. So you knew what you were doing.

He chuckled, thinking that was going to be all your teasing.

“Judging by how long it took for you to talk, I guess you did mean to keep your end of the deal.”

“Huh?” He inquired softly.

“You know.” You bit your lip and blushed a bit more, making him more interested, taking a step towards you without realizing. “Keeping your mouth shut. Like the obedient boy you are.”

He started breathing heavily, a low laugh rolling off his tone.

“Oh, yeah?” His smirk was only powered by yours. “I must say, I can be quite rebellious.”

“Really?” You snickered, feeling his hand squeeze yours again.

“Very.” He gulped. His bravado only lasted for so much, and deep inside, he was equally scared as curious.

He wanted to keep going. He wanted you to stay.

“Are you trying to prove it?” You mocked cheekily.

He stared at your lips, his breath felt heavy. “Would you like me to prove it?”

His hand threatened to reach for your cheek, but it was you who finally held it and moved it towards your face.

“Bet.” You giggled. “You won’t.”

The night air was crisp as your eyes, deep and expressive, locked with his, inviting and enticing, a secret to be held in them. His hair, often styled with flair, rested curly and messy, but you couldn’t help but get lost in the untamed beauty that he portrayed. Not even his lips gently grazing yours could wipe either of your smiles under the moonlight.

And then, for a moment, it wasn’t gentle.

Maybe it was because he sighed against your lips, or maybe it was because you followed an impulse and bit his lower lip, but then it got twisted. Tongues danced with one another, fighting for dominance in a burst of sudden passion.

“C-chan,” you gulped, arms traveling to his nape, playing with his hair. It made him weak.

“Chris,” he sighed, yearning to taste your lips again. And again. He didn’t want to stop. Not yet. “Call me— call me Chris.”

You chuckled. “Only if you call me…”

You were going to tease him, but your ideas suddenly flew away form your mind when he started peppering kisses on your neck, grazing your skin with his teeth.

“What?” He snickered. “A pet name of sorts?” He was teasing you, and he was so enjoying it, tasting the weirdly sweet and enticing flavour of your skin in his lips. “Would you like that, princess?” God, he needed more.

You bit your lip, holding back sounds behind heavy breaths, and he patted your thighs, making you jump into his arms without hesitation. Quickly, he moved the both of you, pinning you against the wall closest to you.

“C-chan…” He bit your skin slightly harder. “Chris! Ah, Chris…!”

“F-fuck…” He muttered. “I… I can’t…” He leaned his head in the crook of your neck, now covered in small and red lovebites. “You smell so good.”

You pecked his forehead, trying to catch your breath, your hands stroking his soft hair.

“Not here, right?” You smiled, soothing, comprehensive. His heart softened.

He nodded, sighting against your neck. He let go of your legs, allowing you to stand back on your feet tenderly.

“I’m sorry….?” Chan mumbled shyly. You giggled, brushing it off.

You were about to say something, but then the gravel cracked under someone’s weight. One that wasn’t either of you.

He tensed up under your arms.

You sighed. “Move!” You ushered in a whisper.

He frowned, his eyes darting from you and from where the sound had come from.

“But you—”

“Chan!” You pushed him away, hiding him behind another wall, and quickly took your phone from the pocket of your jacket, zipping back up what Chris had lowered.

“Who’s in there?”

Chan’s breath haltered.

You had hid him just a wall more, meaning that if the security guard found any of you, chances were that he wouldn’t be caught. You would.

You both held your breathing, hands interlinked even if your bodies were as far away as they could to do so, your heartbeats quickening in sync.

And then, it was just silence for a minute, the gravel cracked below the security guard’s feet, and he left as sudden as he had arrived.

You legs felt like jelly, and you let your back fall down the wall, ending up sitting on the floor with a huff.

“You were going to get in trouble.” Chris muttered.

You looked at him from the floor. The moonlight highlightened his lean figure and charismatic features.

You nodded. “It wouldn’t be me who’d get in the worst of it.” You smiled softly.

He nodded with you.

“We should go before it gets too late.”

Just before heading back together to the elevators, you looked to the reception, and grinned softly.

The elevator back up felt more silent than usual. And for some reason that could speak and make him blush, Chan missed the sound of your voice.

“Good night, Chris.”

It wasn’t going to be a good night.

Not after that interruption, which not only scared the shit out of him, but also made him rethink everything he was doing with you.

Chan arrived back to his room. After half an hour of mindlessly staring at the nightsky through the window, someone knocked on the door.

Could it be you? Chris blushed at the thought.

He opened the door to find nothing. Then, he looked to the floor, and found a mug of hot chocolate and a small note.

may have taken a peek to your room card before. i had fun tonight! see you tomorrow? xoxo, your princess.

He grinned.

Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad night after all.

[♦️☆🔓☆♦️]

When he woke up the morning after, his mouth still tasted like chocolate.

There had been nothing that could wipe the silly grin on his face that day. Not his packed schedule, not the knowledge that they had to go back home and it would be his last night there, not the fact that Han had come into his room just to look for his missing sock —which, for obvious reasons, he never found there—, not the fact that Hyunjin was still bitter with him because of what he had named the ‘pretty girl disaster’ —which Chan intended to tell you just to see if you’d laugh like he had imagined.

His mind was filled to the brim with thoughts of you.

Your flavoured chapstick, your sweet scent, the way you mumbled his name —his real one, that is—, how your eyes glowed under the moonlight, how his hands fit perfectly in the curves of your waist.

He sighed happily for the upteenth time that day, coming out of the shower.

But then, Minho came in to his room.

“Hyung.” He started, and his low tone didn’t seem to bring good news.

Chan nodded, waiting for him to continue.

“I know I’m not really good at these things, but I think you should see this.”

The dancer handed him the phone, and Chan turned pale.

It was a picture taken from last night. Chan’s silhouette was fairly obvious, slightly pixelated and hidden by his beanie and his mask. And right in front of him, back facing the camera, was you, your hand holding his.

“So it is you. That’s what I thought,” Minho mumbled. “A random number sent it to Hyunjin. He saved the picture and blocked it, but we thought you should know.”

“Did they know it was me?” Chan stuttered.

The cat owner shook his head, and Chan was able to breathe normally again. “They thought it had been me with Jisung.”

It was there when Chan’s daydreaming faltered.

His thoughts started spinning, not knowing how or where to start.

Would you know about this?

What would you do?

“Hyung.” Minho sighed. “We’re leaving tomorrow.”

And Chan hadn’t been able to grasp that, but someone did.

The same someone who knocked on his door at night.

“Guys, you have your own cards.” Chan muttered, opening the door.

But it hadn’t been any of the guys.

“Hi.” You let out in a sight, panting.

Had you ran your way there?

“Hi.” He mumbled weakly.

“Can I…?” He opened the door for you, and quickly closed it back. He turned his back to you, his eyes wide and his heart going crazy.

“Chris.” You mumbled.

He turned around to face you.

“You asked me to stay last night and I went with you to the gardens.” You huffed. “But I want to stay here with you tonight.”

He blinked, passing a hand through his wavy hair. You were there. In front of him. Speaking. God, he had to concentrate.

“We’ll make a deal.” You breathed slowly, staring deeply into his eyes, yearning to know the secrets hidden behind them. “I’ll leave this here.”

You gently plopped your phone on the table near the door to his room. He was still standing there, as if frozen, pyjama pants on and only a bathrobe covering his lean and toned chest.

“A pretty man called Hyunjin came to me talking about some picture,” you started softly. “But yesterday didn’t happen so I’d ruin a man’s career.” His eyes followed how you raised your hands and smiled, and he couldn’t help but smile back.

“It’s off.” Your voice lowered, and he got slightly closer, as if wanting to hear you better. “The phone, I mean. Feel free to check it.”

Surprisingly, he just stared at it, then smiled cheekily, heading towards you.

Your eyebrows shot up and you felt deliciously small under his new-formed grin, and how his hands cradled your face.

He pecked your lips with a yearning sigh.

“I missed you.”

You blushed.

“You can have me all night.” Your smile made him feel butterflies on his stomach. “Just me and you.”

He kissed you again, longer this time.

His frame slowly caged you against the door, and he broke the kiss, stroking your cheeks. His body was pressed up against yours, his lips parted as he breathed softly, taking you in. He could feel heat running down his body just by the feeling of you back in his arms, and the only thought that he had clear is that he couldn't hold back anymore.

He needed to kiss you, again, and again, and again. He needed to figure out what you tasted like. He needed to have you. Your hands had gone back to where they had been the night before, and the way you stared at his lips threatened to make him fall to his knees.

His eyes were glued on your lips, and not long after, his mouth followed.

Chris’ heart was pounding against his chest, and he knew for a fact that he had never felt this way before. Never in his whole life. The more he tasted your lips, the kiss almost as passionate as your first one, the more you ruined him, claiming him as yours, making him addictied to the way you sighed and grinned as he moved your bodies to the bed, the hotter his body became.

He fell with you on the matress, and much to his surprise, you moved your bodies, sitting on his lap, taking a groan out of him.

“Such a beauty,” you mumbled, almost to yourself rather than him. “All for me, huh?” You smirked.

The whole world was hazy, the only thing that was clear was your body and your words. Just hearing your voice saying those words to him made him shiver, a shiver that he never experienced before.

He smirked too, and sighed when you untied his bathrobe, your hands roaming freely wherever you wanted to, stroking his chest, claiming him with kisses, the soft colour that they left behind, pink due to your lipstick, and the soft scratches of your nails, that made him bite his lip to keep his sounds hidden.

“Nuh-uh.” You tutted at him with a smile.

He snickered. “Oh, princess. Two can play that game.”

His hands pinned you down against the bed, his lips quickly going back to yours.

“You said I needed to keep my tongue to myself, and I promised that I would” He grinned, almost menacingly, lowering himself, trailing kisses down your body, discarding your underwear.

“I intend to break that promise.”

Maybe you and him would be difficult.

But he had asked you to stay, and you did. And he didn’t want to stop trying. Not yet.

[♦️☆🔒☆♦️]

~Kats, who did most of this in a hospital bed (‘m okay now dw) but fell asleep and didn’t publish it, lol. I LOVED THIS IDEA POOKIE TYSM !!

[jaylalolz]

,,BEST PART’’ nicholas chavez

a/n : since none of yall wanted to make a fic about this lovely man.. imma do it myself

warnings : none

summary : in an interview, actress Madelyn Kennedy reveals her celebrity crush on actor Nicholas Chavez, sparking excitement among her fans. It quickly gets attention on social media, with fans buzzing about the potential chemistry between the two.

Madelyn Kennedy adjusted her microphone and smiled brightly at the camera. The vibrant buzzed with energy as the host, Jake Harrington, settled into his chair across from her. The air was thick with anticipation, not just for Madelyn's upcoming projects, but for what might unfold during the interview.

“Welcome back to Hollywood Spotlight! Today, we have the incredibly talented Madelyn Kennedy with us,” Jake announced, his enthusiasm infectious. “Madelyn, it’s great to have you here!”

“Thanks for having me, Jake! I’m so excited to be here,” Madelyn replied, her heart racing slightly. She loved these moments, sharing her passion with fans who tuned in from all over the world.

“So, let’s dive right in! Fans are eagerly awaiting Outer Banks Season 4, which is set to premiere on October 10th. What can you tell us about it?” Jake leaned forward, his eyes sparkling with curiosity.

Madelyn took a breath, her excitement bubbling over. “I can’t wait for everyone to see it! This season is going to be the biggest yet. We’ve really upped the stakes with the storylines. There’s more adventure, more twists, and a deeper exploration of our characters. I think fans are going to be on the edge of their seats!”

“Sounds thrilling! Any hints you can drop about what to expect?” Jake pressed, a grin spreading across his face.

“Well, without giving too much away,” she said, playfully biting her lip, “let’s just say the Pogues face some serious challenges that test their friendships and loyalty. It’s a wild ride!”

“Now that sounds like something to look forward to! But let’s switch gears a bit. On a more personal note, do you have any celebrity crushes?” Jake’s tone turned lighter, inviting her to share something more intimate.

Madelyn paused for a moment, a playful smirk creeping onto her face. “Actually, I do!” she said, leaning in slightly as if sharing a secret. “I have a crush on Nicholas Chavez. He’s just incredible!”

The studio erupted with a mix of gasps and excited chatter, and Madelyn’s cheeks flushed slightly. She could feel the buzz of energy in the air as Jake’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.“Nicholas Chavez! That’s a popular choice! What is it about him that draws you in?” Jake asked, clearly enjoying the moment.

Madelyn laughed, her confidence returning. “I mean, he’s such a talented actor. I loved his work on General Hospital and recently Monsters, and he just has this amazing energy. Plus, he seems like a genuinely nice person. What’s not to like?”

liked by madelynkennedy and 356,789 others

nicholasalexanderchavez muah

view all comments !

madelynkennedy just fainted

⤷ nicholasalexanderchavez need any help?

user the crossover we didn’t knew we needed

user wait bc they would be such a hot couple…

user madelyn forgetting that she’s on her main instead of spam LMAOO

user oh i’m living for this

user i ship

user white boy of the month

user no bc that one scene in monsters when he only had a towel on… DROP IT😫

user need him in a romcom w mads

user nicholas just pulled the baddest bitch

[mariasont]

What if I put an insane little idea in your head and let it bounce around? Mid seasons (7/8 ish?) Spencer with a kinnda sorta fangirl? She just started at the BAU and it’s not that she’s weird about him but she does have like 3 of his papers memorized down to the letter and she “possibly quoted him on her college application essay” (it’s the literal conclusion).

Like she’s just this little ball of excitement and he has no clue what to do when the team is like “ask her out for the love of god and stop making heart eyes when she lets you nerd out”

Sorry if this makes no sense it’s 2:30 in the morning

FANGIRL - S.R

a/n: AHHHHH BECAUSE WHAT IF I JUST SMOOCHED YOU

loved, loved, LOVED this idea and writing it! you are amazing <3

masterlist

pairings: spencer reid x fem!reader

warnings: reader being a fangirl for reid because WHO WOULDNT BE UGH

wc: 1.2k

"Dr. Reid, hi, it's such an honor. I'm the new agent."

You give him your name, hand extended out to him, bouncing off the balls of your feet. There was a badge pinned to your shirt, the clip attached to it gleaming in the fluorescent light, which despite its usual severity, seemed to soften around you.

Spencer comes to a standstill, his coffee suspended mid-sip, documents wrinkled in his hands as he assesses you. You are pretty. exceedingly so, but he's having trouble processing it, his mind still shrouded in the remnants of sleep. 

He blinks away his surprise. "Nice to meet you. Hotch must've briefed you about the team, I assume?"

He adjusted the heap of papers to under his arm, freeing his hand to meet yours. The softness he encountered prompted a momentary pause, awakening a sudden urge to not let go. However, he promptly set aside the thought, releasing your hand with a concealed hesitation. 

You fiddled with your earlobe, you shot him a sheepish smile. "Yeah, Hotch did, but I already knew a bit about you. I've always been a fan of your work. I mean, not like a fan per se, because that would be weird, right? But I've read all your papers, and they're just... they're brilliant, honestly."

Spencer was clearly caught off guard, his brows leaping upwards as he surveyed you. You weren't lying--that much was clear to him. He could see it in the way you met his eyes with an enthusiasm so bright it was nearly blinding.

"My work? You're actually familiar with it?"

A soft giggle bubbled from you, a sweet sound that seemed to momentarily leave him winded. He placed his coffee on the desk, leaning back slightly. 

"Oh, definitely. Your research on chemical composition analysis in narcotics? I've read it so many times I could probably recite it in my sleep."

He considered the possibility of you exaggerating. He took great pride in his work and (without sounding too cocky) he was well aware of its significance and contribution to his field. However, there's a difference between knowing your work is recognized and encountering someone who has internalized it to such a degree--especially someone like you. He suddenly felt a touch of self-consciousness.

"I'm sorry, that was too much, right? I promised I'd play it cool, and then I saw you and... well, it's all just really surreal," you said before gesturing vaguely towards the bullpen. "Anyway, I'm going to go, uh, find my desk."

You hurried away before he could refute your words, head bowed. He felt like an ass.

The day threw him off balance. His contributions to the team lacked their usual insight, his mental gears turning more slowly. And for some inexplicable reason, he found himself preoccupied with thoughts of you. He attempted to rationalize it as a reaction to your interest in his work, a level of admiration that was a rare find. Unlike the formal niceties from others, your excitement about his work, about him, stood out.

He tried to latch onto Hotch's deductions about the unsub, willing his intellect to snap to attention and offer up a decent theory. However, a glance in your direction derailed his efforts. You were bent over the desk, your hands animatedly navigating through the papers. He was happy to see your enthusiasm was there despite his lack thereof earlier.

"Based on the geographic profiling and the choice of victims, it looks like the unsub has a background in urban planning."

Emily nods, "Good theory. What led you to that?"

He watches the anxious flicker in your eyes, glancing towards him, hands clasped together as you incline your head his way.

"Actually, I read about a similar case in Dr. Reid's paper on The Spatial Patterns of Serial Offenses." It strikes him then--he hasn't yet invited you to use his first name, adding another tick to the ever-growing list of ways he feels he's been inadvertently discourteous. "The clustering of crime scenes near arterial routes suggests the offender leverages the urban grid to facilitate escape and avoid detection. Embarrassingly enough, that was the topic of my college application essay."

Spencer was momentarily speechless (not something that happened often), his mind racing through the physiological response to shock--catecholamine release, vagal tone alterations, even transient arrhythmias--mirroring the way his heart seemed to skip a beat. You really did have his work memorized.

"That's, uh, right," he said, his voice gaining momentum. "By leveraging the urban grid, the offender not only evades capture but also creates a psychological terrain of control."

Hotch nodded in agreement, turning your attention to a series of photographs.

Before Spencer even looked her way, he could sense Garcia's stare, and as he turned, she prodded him with her elbow, smirking. "Seems like she's quite the match for you, doesn't she?"

"Huh? What? No, I mean--she's my coworker, and besides, she's much younger." Spencer was quite sure he sounded anything but convincing.

Garcia raises an eyebrow, shaking her head. "I meant in terms of smarts, but oookay, Spencer."

She walked out with a bounce in that definitely hadn't been there earlier, and Spencer was left with a red face.

He had every intention of pulling you aside, to apologize for earlier, to reassure that he didn't find you odd or weird, and to admit that he was genuinely flattered. But it appeared that every time he had a chance to make it to your desk, you had vanished, or were in deep conversation with JJ, or inside Hotch's office.

It was a relentless cycle that persisted until the end of the day, when everyone began to leave--except for you, who remained still firmly planted at your desk, fervently jotting notes into your notebook.

Absorbed in your work, you didn't notice his approach until he cleared his throat.

"Hey," he said softly.

Startled, you flinched, prompting him to immediately feel like shit. Strike three. You laughed off the shock when you realized it was him, moving your notebook aside, offering him your undivided attention.

"Sorry, Dr. Reid, hi! How's it going? Is there something I can do for you?"

"I thought I'd see if you needed help with anything, and you can call me Spencer, if you want." He glanced at his watch. "Are you still working?"

You pushed a piece of hair from your face and nodded towards the formidable pile of forms. 

"Spencer, okay," you said, like you were testing it out, "and just sorting through a mountain of onboarding paperwork."

He nodded, hesitating slightly before speaking. "Listen, I need to apologize for earlier."

You tilted your head. "What for?"

"I think I wasn't as welcoming as I intended to be."

"That's okay, I know I was a bit intense."

He shook his head. "No, you weren't. It's just... It's rare that my work gets much attention. I'm happy you appreciated it. If there's a specific topic that you're more interested in, maybe I could explain more about it sometime?"

You glanced down at your hands, trying to hide the smile that was blooming there. You weren't successful. When you looked back up, Spencer felt a little bit awestruck by your eyes, the flecks of color that he could now see clearly.

"I'd love that. Maybe over coffee?" you suggested.

"Yeah, sure." He could feel the heat rushing up his neck. 

He reluctantly parted ways, leaving you to your paperwork, and as he approached the elevator, Penelope was there.

"You know, sugar, maybe I did mean quite the match in a romantic way. So, are you going to ask her out, or shall I play Cupid?"

He blushed. "I think she might have just beat me to it."

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna @readergf @sarcasm-and-stiles @edencherries @aurorsworld @princess76179 @malindacath @freyy253 @broadwaytraaaaash @r-3dlips @m-indkiller @sunfyyre @sleepysongbirdsings @trulycayla @reiderrambles

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[maybanksbaby]

warnings: none really

summary: jj really loves his new boat and shows it off to his girlfriend

a/n: he looked so cute in the comercial, i love him so much. please let him be happy this season 🙏🙏

⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪

JJ Maybank was practically vibrating with excitement as he waited on the dock, a wide grin plastered across his face. His brand-new—well, new to him—boat was tied up right behind him, and he couldn’t wait to show it off to her. His pretty girlfriend and number one fan, the one who made everything in his life feel like it was coated in sugar and wrapped in a pink bow.

The sound of soft footsteps on the weathered wooden planks jolted him from his thoughts, and he whipped around to see his girlfriend, the absolute light of his life, making her way toward him. She looked as cute as ever, dressed in one of those sweet knitted tops she always wore, paired with a short skirt that twirled with each step. Her hair was bouncing with the sea breeze, and she had her usual pink gloss that smelled like strawberries, making him weak in the knees before she even said a word.

"J!" she called out, her voice making his already sky-high excitement bubble over.

Before she could even finish her next breath, JJ was already running toward her, grabbing her hand and practically dragging her down the dock. "You’re here, you’re here, you’re here! Okay, close your eyes!"

She blinked, giggling at his enthusiasm. "JJ, what are you—JJ!” she squealed, letting out an adorable little laugh when his hands covered her eyes from behind, her body relaxing into his. “What are you doing?”

“You trust me, right?”

“I do, yeah…”

“Then close your eyes,” he whispered, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek, which instantly sent her into a new fit of giggles.

She sighs, her shoulders slumping down. “Can i at least get a hint of what it is?”

“Nope! Eyes closed, no peeking! This is a surprise!” He placed his other hand over her eyes too for extra insurance.

She let out a playful sigh but complied, trusting him as he eagerly led her down the last stretch of the dock. “Okay, okay! I’m closing them!”

JJ could barely contain himself as he guided her close to the boat, careful not to let her trip. “Alright… three… two… one—ta-da!” He whipped his hands away from her eyes and bounced on his heels as she finally saw it.

The messy panting, that if you narrowed your eyes read 'MAYBANK'S' on the right side, didn't let much to the imagination. Now, she understood.

Her eyes widened, and she let out a surprised gasp, her hands flying up to cover her mouth. "Oh my gosh, JJ! Is–Woah. Is this… this boat is yours?"

“Yup!” he said, puffing out his chest and throwing his hands up proudly.

Her gaze swept over the boat—a charming, beat-up thing, but it was perfect for JJ. The paint was chipped, and the motor looked like it had seen better days, but it had a certain rugged charm, just like him. “JJ, it’s—”

“Beautiful? Amazing? The best thing you’ve ever seen?” He interrupted, unable to contain his excitement.

She giggles, nodding along. “Yeah! How did you even manage this? We're... literally broke right now.”

JJ let out a short awkward chuckle, scratching his wrinkled eyebrows, “Uh, well... that's not really important. What is important though, is that she's all mine–Ours! It's not really new but, with a couple of technical adjustments, a little more of my girl's style right here and—boom! Meet 'The Maybank!”

She stared at him for a moment, eyes twinkling, before bursting into giggles. “The Maybank?”

“Okay, okay, it’s a work in progress, name-wise” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish grin. “But who cares about the name? Check this out! Come on, come on!" He grabbed her hand again and practically sprinted to the back of the boat, pulling her along with him like an overexcited puppy.

“JJ!” she laughed, trying to keep up with his energy.

“Look at this beauty of a motor!” he exclaimed, leaning over to pat the engine like it was some prized race car. “She purrs like a kitten! Well, kinda more like a sick kitten, but once I fix her up—purring.”

She smiled warmly, her heart swelling at how proud and happy he looked. JJ had been through so much, more than most people could handle, and yet here he was, smiling like a little kid on Christmas morning, showing her the boat he’d worked so hard to get. “A sick kitten? Oh, it's... Yeah, probably fixable. Without any more costs...”

“Oh, it is, princess!” JJ said, completely missing the uneasy tone. “You haven’t even seen the best part yet! Come here!”

He tugged her to the front of the boat, showing off the seats with grand gestures, talking a mile a minute. “These seats? Top-tier comfort. I mean, okay, there’s a rip or two, but it’s vintage, y’know? Character! Like–Like you say. Aesthetic.... And this right here—” He pointed to the tiny built-in cooler. “Boom! Cooler for all our drinks. You, me, the Pogues? Ice-cold sodas, beers, whatever we want. Fancy, huh?”

“Very fancy,” she giggled, nodding along.

“And wait, wait, there’s more!” He led her to the very front of the boat, practically skipping at this point. “See this space? Perfect for you to lay out and tan while I drive. Like a little sunbathing queen. Plus, I can park us in all the secret spots around OBX.”

She couldn’t stop laughing at how eager he was, and her heart swelled as she watched him ramble on. “You’re really proud of this, huh?”

He stopped mid-gesture and turned to her, his grin softening for a moment. “Yeah. I mean… it’s not much, but it’s mine. I can finally take you out on adventures, like we always talked about.”

Her heart melted at his words, and she reached up, cupping his cheek with her hand. “JJ, it’s perfect. I love it. I’m so proud of you.”

He leaned into her touch, his heart thudding in his chest. But before the moment could get too soft, his energy snapped back, and he grabbed her hand again. “Come on, I haven’t shown you the captain’s seat yet!”

He practically dragged her over to the helm, hopping into the driver’s seat and patting the spot next to him like an excited puppy. “Check it out! You wanna drive? You totally gotta drive.”

She shook her head, laughing again, but took a seat next to him, watching as he fiddled with the controls like a seasoned pro. “I don’t think I’m ready to drive a boat just yet, JJ. Can't even drive the HMS Pogue”

“Pfft, you’ve got me! I’m a captain now, baby. I’ll teach you everything. Plus, there’s not much to it—steering, not hitting rocks, easy peasy. You got it.”

She leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder. “Maybe next time, Captain Maybank.”

“Next time, I’ll hold you to that,” he smirked, turning to plant a quick kiss on her forehead.

With one swift movement, JJ started up the boat, and they pulled away from the dock, the boat chugging forward at a steady pace. The wind whipped through her hair, and JJ was practically glowing beside her, his smile as wide as the ocean they were heading toward.

“See? Easy!” JJ exclaimed, beaming from ear to ear as they coasted along the water. “This is just the start. I’m gonna take you everywhere, baby—secret beaches, hidden coves, the works. We’ll go places no one else even knows about. And just then, we'll be traveling all over the world. Like pirates”

She watched him, her heart practically melting as he rambled on, his energy so infectious that it made her feel like they were the only two people in the world. His joy was her joy, and she couldn’t help but beam at how proud and excited he was. “JJ, this is… amazing.”

He shot her a playful smirk. “I'm telling you, just wait until I fix the motor. Then we’ll be flying across the water, like those fancy Kooky boats. But better.”

She leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder as the boat slowed to a gentle stop in the middle of the water, the sound of the engine fading away to leave just the soft lapping of the waves. The sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, casting the sky in a beautiful mix of orange, pink, and purple. It was serene, and perfect.

As they glided over the water, JJ kept up his constant narration, pointing out every little thing about the boat, from the condition of the steering wheel to a small patch he’d made on the deck with duct tape. She soaked it all in, giggling at his over-the-top enthusiasm, and her heart swelled at how happy and free he seemed.

After a while, JJ slowed the boat to a stop in a quiet, serene spot with a perfect view of the setting sun. The water around them was calm, reflecting the orange and pink hues of the sky.

“And here we are,” JJ announced, throwing his arm over her shoulders as if he’d just revealed a million-dollar mansion. “Not bad for a first trip, huh?”

She snuggled into his side, her fingers tracing little patterns on his arm. “Not bad at all. I think I could get used to this.”

JJ grinned, leaning in to whisper conspiratorially, “You'll see, pretty girl. ”

She laughed, tipping her head up to kiss him on the cheek. “I can’t wait, Captain Maybank.”

JJ wrapped both arms around her, pulling her close as they watched the sunset together. His excitement from earlier had finally settled into a comfortable warmth, and for the first time in a while, he felt like everything was exactly where it was supposed to be. He places his chin on his shoulder, eyes twinkling with mischief. “You know, I’ve been thinking…”

“Uh-oh,” she teased, gentely tilting her head go look at him. “That’s never good.”

“Hey!” he laughed, then shook his head. “Nah, but seriously. You, know, the name of the boat? ‘The Maybank's’?" The way he pronounced it, slowly and with a twich of his eyebrows, managed to get a giggle from her. "It’s got a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?”

"Mhm, yeah. Really... characterized"

His grin softened into something a little more serious but no less JJ—playful yet full of warmth. He stepped closer, the arms around her waist gentely tighting. “Well, I was thinking… It’s perfect for when we get married too, you know? You’re gonna be a Maybank one day. Well, if you want. You can keep your last name though, not sure how it all works up these days, but... I wouldn't mind to share, you know? Just saying”

Her heart skipped a beat, and she felt her cheeks flush as his words settled in. Instead of being flustered, she melted into him, her smile only growing wider, softer, and so full of love. “No–I... You really think so?” she whispered, gazing up at him with that sweet, adoring look she saved just for him.

Her breath caught, the realization washing over her in a wave of warmth. They both knew it, had known it for a while now. The thought of marrying JJ felt like the most natural thing in the world, like it was already written in the stars.

“Of course! You’re my girl,” he said, his voice steady, almost serious, as if he was laying down the law. “When we get married, it’s going to be you and me, officially. Just picture it: ‘Captain and Mrs. Maybank’—how cool is that?”

A dreamy smile spread across her face, and she bit her lip, feeling giddy at the thought. “Mhm, sounds amazing, Jayj. Like a dream.”

His eyes lit up, and he pulled her closer, their bodies practically melting into one another. “See? It’s meant to be. I’ll show you the ropes on this boat, and then we can plan our future adventures as a married couple. Our honeymoon even” He flashed that goofy grin that always made her heart race. “You’ll make the best wife ever.”

Her cheeks flushed at the sincerity in his words, and she felt her heart swell with love. “I would love to be your wife, Mr. Maybank,” she said earnestly, her voice a soft melody. “I can’t imagine anything better.”

“Mhm. You, me, and this boat—just sailing off into the sunset. It’s perfect.” He pointed to the sea vaguely, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “And, hey, we can even practice the whole captain and first mate thing. We'll be the king and queen of these waters”

Her heart is about go explode in her chest, her eyes hurting from how much love they're holding while looking at him.

“Do you think we can take it out soon?” she asked, turning around in his arms to be face to face with him.

“Oh, absolutely. I already imagine us cruising around the island, just the two of us,” he said, a dreamy look crossing his face. “And then, in a few years, we’ll be out here with our kids, teaching them how to sail. It’ll be perfect.”

Her heart swelled at the thought, and she wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her head against his chest. “I can’t wait for that, JJ. You make everything sound so fun and exciting.”

“Because it is! Especially with you!” He grinned down at her, and she could see the love and enthusiasm shining in his eyes. “You and me, forever, right?”

“Forever,” she echoed, her voice barely above a whisper, but filled with all the certainty in the world. As they stood there together, she knew without a doubt that one day, they’d be sailing through life as Mr. and Mrs. Maybank, and nothing could be more perfect than that.

With her by his side and the open water ahead of them, JJ Maybank couldn’t imagine life getting any better.

[faebled-stories]

The Echo of Three

Kinkvember Day 22: Cuckolding (Cuckqueen)

Kiss of Life Haneul and Belle x Male reader

AN: A bit later than usual, sorry about that 😅. It’s been a rough day, but I still wanted to make sure I got this out to you all. Thanks for your patience and understanding!

Haneul had always had a knack for knowing you better than you knew yourself. She noticed every little thing, from how you liked your coffee—three sugars, a splash of cream—to the way you hummed certain songs under your breath, not even realizing you were doing it. She’d pick up on the subtle shifts in your mood, the tells you didn’t even know you had. But one thing she had picked up on early in your relationship was your admiration for Belle.

Belle. The world-famous soloist with the hauntingly beautiful voice and the kind of stage presence that seemed to demand the world’s attention. Her performances felt intimate despite their grandeur, as though every note was meant for you, even when heard through a screen. You’d always been open about your love for her music, gushing over new albums, replaying live performances late into the night, and casually mentioning how much you’d love to see her in concert someday. It wasn’t just the music; it was her. Something about Belle’s presence—her confidence, her poise, the way she commanded a room with effortless grace—captivated you in a way Haneul couldn’t miss.

At first, Haneul had rolled her eyes. It was cute, she supposed—the way your face lit up when any of Belle’s songs came on, how you’d hum along with an almost reverent smile. But that cuteness came with a faint sting. She couldn’t help feeling a little twinge of jealousy every time Belle’s name slipped into conversation. Belle was glamorous, untouchable, someone who could capture the attention of millions with a single note. How could she not feel overshadowed by that?

But as time went on, those feelings softened. Haneul began to see your admiration for what it was: a harmless celebrity crush, a fantasy so far removed from reality that it didn’t threaten the deep, personal connection you shared. And in truth, the way you talked about Belle was endearing—your unfiltered enthusiasm for her talent, the way your excitement bubbled over whenever she released something new. It made Haneul love you even more, seeing this side of you that was so earnest and unapologetically passionate.

Even when you jokingly added Belle to your “hall pass” list, Haneul had laughed, calling you ridiculous. “Good luck with that,” she’d teased, shaking her head at the absurdity of it all. But the idea lingered in her mind, a tiny spark of curiosity that never quite faded. It wasn’t jealousy anymore—it was something else. A mix of playful indulgence and genuine understanding. She wasn’t blind, after all. Even she could see the allure of someone like Belle.

So, when your birthday came around, Haneul knew exactly what to do. She wanted to give you something unforgettable, something that captured not only how much she loved you but how well she knew you.

-----

The faint flicker of candles cast a warm glow across the dimly lit room, the flames dancing in tandem with the soft scent of vanilla cake that filled the air. It mingled with the faint, familiar trace of Haneul’s floral perfume—something light, with a hint of jasmine—that always made you feel at home. Haneul stood across the table, her dark hair falling in loose waves around her shoulders, her voice lilting gently as she sang “Happy Birthday.” Her tone was playful, teasing on some notes, but there was a warmth to it that made your chest ache in the best way. She wasn’t a professional singer, but to you, her voice was still amazing—especially when it was paired with the way her lips curved into a smile between verses. It made every note feel like it was meant just for you.

“Make a wish,” she said softly, her dark eyes sparkling as the candlelight danced across her face.

You closed your eyes, letting the moment settle over you. The warmth of the candles radiated faintly against your skin, the flickering light behind your eyelids matching the comforting steadiness of Haneul’s presence. The soft hum of her voice still lingered in the air, wrapping around you like a blanket. You took a deep breath, the scent of the cake mingling with the faint jasmine of her perfume, and made your wish: to spend forever with her, your loving girlfriend.

When you opened your eyes, the sight of her was enough to make your heart swell. Haneul, the woman who had brought so much light into your life, who knew you better than anyone else, stood there smiling at you, her expression warm and full of love. The soft flicker of the candles seemed to frame her in golden light, her dark eyes gleaming with the kind of joy that made everything around her feel secondary.

When you exhaled, the candles flickered and went out, the flames vanishing with a quiet whoosh. A thin wisp of smoke curled lazily upward, the faint scent of burned wax mixing with the sweetness of the cake. For a moment, the room held its breath, as though even the air itself was savoring the moment. Then Haneul clapped her hands together, the sound sharp and cheerful as she broke the stillness with a bright, playful grin.

“Okay, so…” she said, dragging out the words with a teasing lilt. “Are you going to tell me what you wished for, or do I have to guess?”

“You know I can’t tell you,” you replied, leaning across the table to steal a quick kiss. Her lips were soft and warm, carrying the faint, sugary sweetness of the frosting. “It won’t come true if I do.”

“Fine, keep your secrets,” she said with a dramatic sigh, though the playful twinkle in her eyes betrayed her amusement. She picked up the cake knife, her movements deliberate and precise as she slid the blade into the frosting. The soft scrape of metal against ceramic filled the room, a small sound amplified by the quiet intimacy of the moment. She nudged a slice onto your plate, sliding it toward you with a smirk. “Here. Try not to inhale it all at once.”

The cake was perfect—soft, moist, with just the right amount of sweetness. Each bite seemed to melt on your tongue, leaving a lingering vanilla warmth. You couldn’t help but glance at her as she served herself a slice, the faint hum of her voice as she worked making your chest ache with quiet gratitude. The flicker of the candles reflected in her dark eyes, adding an almost magical quality to the moment. Everything about her—the curve of her lips, the casual confidence of her movements, the way her presence filled the room—made you feel impossibly lucky.

Haneul had always known exactly how to make you feel loved. But tonight felt different. There was something almost electric in the air, a subtle charge that made the moment feel bigger than it seemed. It wasn’t just the cake or her attention to detail—it was something unspoken, something you couldn’t quite put into words. It felt like anticipation.

As the last crumbs of cake disappeared from your plate, Haneul leaned back in her chair, her dark hair spilling over her shoulder in soft waves. The glow of the candles illuminated her profile, catching the mischievous glint in her eyes as she tilted her head, her lips curling into a sly smile. “Alright,” she said, her tone teasing. “Time for phase two.”

“Phase two?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “What does that mean?”

“Presents, obviously,” she replied, standing and walking over to the small table near the couch. She moved with an unhurried grace, her hips swaying slightly as she bent down to pick up a small stack of neatly wrapped gifts. Each package was unique—some wrapped in bright, playful patterns, others in muted, elegant tones—all perfectly folded with crisp corners and tied with coordinating ribbons. She carried them over with a sense of ceremony, setting them down in front of you with a flourish.

“Wait, all of these are for me?” you asked, eyeing the stack with mock suspicion. “What did I do to deserve all this?”

“Well, you did turn another year older,” she teased, sliding the first box toward you with a playful smirk. “And I guess you’ve been tolerable enough this year.”

You laughed, shaking your head as you picked up the first package. It was small and rectangular, wrapped in bright green paper that shimmered faintly under the soft light. You tore it open carefully, your fingers brushing against the smooth paper as you revealed a leather-bound journal with gilded edges. The leather was soft to the touch, its scent of fresh material mingling with the lingering sweetness of the cake. As you opened it, the faint smell of clean, unused paper reached you, a quiet promise of possibility. On the first page, written in her familiar handwriting, was a note: For all the dreams we haven’t dreamed yet.

You looked up at her, the weight of the gesture settling over you like a warm blanket. “This is beautiful, Haneul. Thank you.”

She shrugged, though the faint flush on her cheeks betrayed her pride. “I just thought… you’re always talking about ideas, so now you’ll have somewhere to put them.”

The next gift was smaller, wrapped in silver paper that gleamed in the candlelight. Inside, you found a sleek pair of wireless earbuds. The polished surface caught the light as you held them up, and you couldn’t help but grin. “I figured these might come in handy,” she said, leaning her chin on her hand with a mischievous look. “You know, for drowning me out when I nag you.”

You laughed, holding them up to inspect them. “Or for listening to music on those walks you’re always making me take.”

“Exactly,” she replied, her tone light but affectionate.

The final small package was the most understated of the three, wrapped in soft cream-colored paper tied with a delicate ribbon. Inside, nestled in a velvet box, was a simple chain bracelet. It gleamed subtly under the flickering light, its design understated but elegant—exactly your style. She reached out, her fingers brushing against your wrist as she leaned forward to fasten it. Her touch was warm, her focus intent as she secured the clasp with care.

“For luck,” she murmured, her voice softer now. She sat back, her eyes studying your face as you admired it. “It’s simple, but I thought it’d suit you.”

“It’s perfect,” you said, your voice quiet as you looked up at her. “You’ve really outdone yourself, Haneul. I don’t even know what to say.”

Her smile widened, a mix of pride and playfulness lighting her face as she leaned back in her chair. “Don’t worry,” she said breezily, waving a hand. “I’m not done yet.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “Not done?”

She laughed, the sound light and teasing, as she stood and walked back toward the couch. This time, she returned with a sleek white envelope in her hand. The paper was pristine, the edges sharp, as though it had been carefully guarded. The faint rustle of the envelope in her hands seemed amplified in the quiet room, building the anticipation swirling in your chest. She set it down in front of you with a flourish, her grin widening in a way that made your heart race.

“This,” she said, tapping the envelope with her finger, “is the real present.”

Your heart skipped as you reached for it, your fingers trembling slightly. The paper felt smooth and crisp under your fingertips, the slight weight of the contents inside making your pulse quicken. You broke the seal, the faint sound of tearing paper almost echoing in the stillness, and pulled out the contents. Two glossy concert tickets gleamed in your hands, the bold, stylized name Belle printed across them in her signature font. The logo glittered faintly in the light, catching your eye like it had been designed just for this moment. Beneath the tickets was a smaller slip of paper, gilded with gold. The words BACKSTAGE ACCESS were embossed in elegant, raised lettering.

For a moment, the words didn’t register. You stared at the tickets, your mind slowly piecing together what they meant. It was like trying to solve a puzzle while your heart pounded in your chest, the pieces clicking into place one by one. “No way,” you whispered, your breath catching in your throat. “Is this…? Did you…?”

Haneul grinned, her dark eyes dancing as she leaned her chin on her hand. “You’re going to see her live. Front row seats. And after the concert, you get to meet her.”

You blinked, the reality of her words crashing over you like a wave. The world around you seemed to tilt, and for a second, all you could do was stare at the tickets in your hands, the weight of them feeling almost surreal. “Haneul, I—this is—” Your voice faltered as your emotions welled up, a knot forming in your throat. “I don’t even know how to thank you.”

“Well,” she teased, standing and walking over to your side, her tone as casual as if she’d just handed you socks. “You could start by not crying.”

“I’m not crying,” you muttered, though the slight tremor in your voice betrayed you. Your vision blurred slightly, and you quickly set the tickets down before pulling her into a tight hug. Her body was warm and solid against yours, grounding you as you buried your face in her hair. “Thank you,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “Seriously. This is the best gift anyone’s ever given me.”

She laughed softly, her arms wrapping around you with a reassuring squeeze. “You’re welcome,” she murmured, her voice soft against your ear. “I figured it was about time you got to see your celebrity crush in person.”

You groaned, pulling back just enough to look at her, though the smile on your face betrayed your exasperation. “You’re never going to let that go, are you?”

“Not a chance,” she replied, her grin widening, mischief twinkling in her eyes. “Besides, I want to see if she lives up to the hype.”

The two of you laughed together, the weight of the moment giving way to an electric sense of anticipation. The tickets sat on the table, gleaming in the candlelight, a tangible reminder of what awaited you tomorrow. Finally, you’d see Belle live—an experience you’d dreamed about for years. And thanks to Haneul, it was going to be even more unforgettable than you could have imagined.

-----

The concert is electric, the kind of performance that leaves the air humming with energy long after the final note fades. Belle’s stage presence is commanding, magnetic, as though the entire venue bends to her will. Her voice carries through the space like a force of nature—raw, powerful, yet impossibly intimate. Each note seems to wrap around you, as though meant for you alone. The stage lights flare and dim with every shift in tempo, casting her in a glow that feels almost ethereal. You’re completely enraptured, caught in the pull of her undeniable charisma.

But what surprises you most isn’t your own reaction—it’s Haneul’s. She’s usually composed, steady, the picture of quiet confidence. Yet tonight, there’s something different in her demeanor. She watches Belle with an intensity you rarely see, her dark eyes following the singer’s every movement. There’s a tinge of admiration in her expression, subtle but unmistakable, and it catches you off guard. You notice the way her lips part slightly during a particularly sultry note, the faint rise and fall of her chest as she leans forward in her seat, as though caught in the same spell that has ensnared you.

By the time the concert ends and you head backstage, a shared excitement buzzes between you. It’s an unspoken thing, lingering in the quickened pace of your steps, the faint blush on your cheeks when Haneul glances at you with a knowing smile. The backstage area feels quieter than you expected, the air still charged with the energy of the performance. The faint roar of the departing crowd filters through the walls, a distant echo of the electricity that filled the arena moments ago. Overhead lights cast long shadows across the room, and the faint scent of sweat and faintly floral perfume lingers in the air like a reminder of Belle’s presence.

And then there she is.

Belle is as radiant up close as she was on stage, her charisma somehow even more potent in the intimate glow of the backstage lounge. Her dark hair is pulled into a loose, slightly tousled style, a few strands falling artfully across her face. The soft sheen of sweat on her skin catches the light, making her look both human and larger than life, her beauty almost surreal. She’s dressed casually now, in a loose-fitting top that clings in just the right places and snug jeans that highlight her long legs, but she wears them with the kind of effortless grace that makes them feel like a designer ensemble.

Her laughter fills the room like music, light and genuine, a perfect counterpoint to the quiet hum of post-performance energy still lingering in the air. She moves with an easy elegance, her gestures fluid as she pours drinks and chats with her team. But as you step into her orbit, her attention shifts.

Her gaze lands squarely on you, and suddenly, it feels like the room has shrunk. Her eyes are sharp, focused, as though she’s appraising you in a way that makes your chest tighten. She tilts her head slightly, her smile widening into something teasing yet calculated. "So," she begins, her voice carrying that same sultry edge you’d heard on stage, "you’re the big fan, huh?"

The words hit you like a spotlight, and your heart stutters in your chest. Her attention is magnetic, pinning you in place as your mind scrambles for a coherent response. "Uh…" You struggle to form words, your throat inexplicably dry. "Y-yeah," you manage after a beat, your face flushing under her scrutiny. "You were… incredible."

Belle’s laughter spills from her lips, soft and teasing, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she steps just a little closer. "Incredible?" she repeats, her tone lilting as though savoring the word. "I’ll take that." She lets the pause linger, her gaze dipping briefly before meeting yours again, sharper this time, like she’s testing your limits. "Though you look like you weren’t expecting me to be that good."

Her hand brushes your arm lightly, a fleeting touch that somehow feels deliberate, calculated to send a jolt of nervous energy through you. Her fingers are warm against your skin, leaving a faint trace of heat that lingers even after she pulls back. "Relax," she says, her voice playful but carrying an undertone that’s far more suggestive. "I don’t bite." She lets her smile linger for a beat before adding with a low laugh, "Not unless I’m invited."

The air between you shifts, growing thicker, charged. Her proximity makes it hard to focus on anything else, her perfume—soft with a faint musky undertone—wrapping around you like a net. Your hands twitch slightly at your sides, your mind racing with a mix of awe and nervousness. You glance toward Haneul, desperate for some kind of grounding, but what you find isn’t exactly what you were hoping for.

Haneul is sitting nearby, watching the exchange with a quiet smile that gives away nothing. There’s a glimmer of amusement in her expression, but beneath that, something else—something curious, almost approving. When she notices your panicked glance, her grin deepens, and she tilts her head slightly, as if silently telling you to keep going.

You’re about to stammer out another awkward attempt at conversation when Haneul decides to step in. "He’s more than a fan," she teases, her voice light but purposeful as she rises from her seat. She walks up beside you, slipping an arm around your waist in a way that feels both comforting and mischievous. "You should’ve seen him watching you tonight," she continues, her tone dripping with playful exaggeration. "I thought he was going to pass out at one point."

"Haneul!" you hiss, your cheeks burning with fresh embarrassment as you glance at her, your wide eyes begging her to stop.

Belle chuckles, clearly entertained by the dynamic. "Oh, really?" she asks, her smile widening as her gaze flicks back to you. "Well, I guess I made an impression."

"He couldn’t stop talking about you for weeks after I got these tickets," Haneul adds, clearly enjoying herself now. She looks up at you with a grin, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "He even practiced what he’d say if he ever got the chance to meet you. Something about wanting to thank you for inspiring him?"

Your hands fly up in protest. "I did not!" you protest, your voice cracking slightly, but your flushed cheeks betray you. You glance at Belle, who’s watching the exchange with open amusement, her eyes alight with curiosity.

"Don’t worry," Haneul says, patting your chest as though to reassure you. "I think it’s cute." She looks back at Belle, her grin softening slightly. "He’s been looking forward to this for a long time."

Belle’s expression shifts slightly, her teasing smirk taking on a hint of warmth as she studies you. "You’ve got a good one," she says to Haneul, nodding toward you. There’s a flicker of something sly in her expression as she adds, "If he weren’t taken, I’d probably have jumped on him by now."

Her words land with a weight that seems to linger in the air, bold and unapologetic, resonating like the echo of a drumbeat. Your blush deepens, creeping to the tips of your ears as your pulse quickens under the intensity of her gaze. You try to respond—to say something clever, to deflect—but the words tangle in your throat, refusing to form. The tension in the room presses against you, thick and tangible, like a storm waiting to break.

Haneul’s calm voice cuts through the charged air, steady and deliberate.

"Is that so?" she says, her tone light but deliberate. Her head tilts slightly, her gaze steady as she looks at Belle. There’s a confidence in her voice that you don’t expect, a calmness that feels deliberate. "What’s stopping you?"

Belle’s eyebrows shoot up, her usual confidence flickering as surprise flashes across her face. "Wait, are you serious?" she asks, her voice a mix of laughter and disbelief. Her eyes dart between you and Haneul, searching for any sign of a joke.

Haneul pauses, the weight of her words settling over her as Belle’s question lingers in the air. Her calm exterior belies the storm of thoughts rushing through her mind. The idea—watching you with Belle, this untouchable, magnetic performer she’d admired from afar—felt like it should spark jealousy, like it should tighten in her chest in that all-too-familiar way. And there was a flicker of it, faint and fleeting, but what surprised her more was everything else.

Excitement. Thrill. A low, unexpected hum of arousal that made her breath catch for just a second. It struck her as strange, almost absurd, but she couldn’t deny the way her pulse quickened at the thought. She could picture it so vividly—your hands on Belle, the way you’d look at her with that same hungry intensity that sometimes set her own body aflame. It made her stomach twist in a way that was as exhilarating as it was unsettling.

Her gaze flicks to you, catching the uncertainty in your expression, the way your shoulders are just slightly tense as though you’re waiting for her to pull back. But she doesn’t. Instead, she shrugs, her lips curling into a small, almost teasing smile. Her voice is steady when she speaks, but there’s a softness beneath it, a quiet acceptance of the strange mix of emotions surging through her. "I mean, I’ve seen how you’ve been looking at him." Her gaze softens slightly, her eyes flickering to you as though grounding herself. "And honestly…" She pauses, her voice lowering just enough to draw Belle’s full attention. "The idea isn’t as crazy as you might think."

Her words send a rush of heat through you—confusion, excitement, and something else that twists low in your stomach. You glance between Haneul and Belle, unsure of what to say, unsure if you should say anything at all. The silence that follows feels alive, buzzing with possibility.

Belle leans back slightly, her lips parting as she processes Haneul’s words. She looks between you and Haneul, a slow, mischievous smile spreading across her face. "Well," she murmurs, stepping closer to you, "if the lady insists… who am I to say no?"

Haneul lets out a soft laugh, her cheeks faintly flushed. Despite her calm exterior, you can see it now—the rush of excitement sparking behind her eyes, the slight rise and fall of her chest as though she’s steadying herself. She glances at you again, her gaze warm but charged, and you realize this isn’t just about Belle. It’s about you. About the thrill of watching something unfold that neither of you had planned but both of you are suddenly open to.

Her hands brush against yours, her touch light yet deliberate, sending a jolt of electricity up your spine. She leans in closer, her lips hovering near yours. "Are you okay with this?" she whispers, her voice low and inviting, her breath warm against your skin.

Your throat feels tight, and for a moment, you can’t find your voice. You glance at Haneul, who is sitting on the couch, her gaze steady and filled with warmth. She nods encouragingly, her cheeks flushed, her lips slightly parted. Her reassurance steadies you, and you turn back to Belle, nodding softly.

With your consent, Belle closes the distance between you. Her lips meet yours in a slow, deliberate kiss, her movements confident and commanding. It’s unlike anything you’ve experienced before, and it leaves you breathless. Her hands slide to your waist, pulling you closer as she deepens the kiss, her tongue teasing yours in a way that makes your knees feel weak.

As the moment stretches, Belle pulls back slightly, her breath mingling with yours. "Why don’t we make this a little more private?" she murmurs, her tone sultry yet casual, as though it’s the most natural suggestion in the world.

Haneul rises from the couch, her movements slow but deliberate, her gaze locked onto yours. There’s a shared understanding between the three of you now, an unspoken agreement as Belle gestures toward a door in the back corner of the room. Her hand slides into yours as she leads you both toward it, her touch firm and steady, her confidence pulling you forward.

The room you enter is dimly lit, with a plush couch in the center and soft, ambient lighting casting warm shadows across the walls. The door clicks shut behind you, sealing the three of you in a space that feels intimate, almost sacred. Belle turns to face you both, her smirk softening into something more inviting as she steps closer, her movements fluid and deliberate.

"Now," she says, her voice dropping lower, her gaze flicking between you and Haneul, "where were we?"

The weight of the room’s privacy settles over you, amplifying every glance, every touch, every unspoken word. Haneul steps closer, her hand finding yours as her other rests lightly on your arm. She glances at Belle, her cheeks still flushed, her expression open and eager. The anticipation in the room is electric, the boundaries between the three of you dissolving as the night takes its next step.

You can’t help but glance at Haneul again, seeking her reassurance even as Belle consumes your focus. Haneul’s eyes meet yours, her expression calm but undeniably aroused. She nods again, her lips curling into a small smile, as if to remind you that she’s there, fully supportive, fully in control.

Belle pulls back slightly, her lips brushing against your jaw as she murmurs, "Relax. You’re doing fine." Her hands begin to explore, slipping beneath your shirt, her touch warm and deliberate. One by one, pieces of clothing fall away—yours and hers—until you’re left stunned, standing before her.

Your breath catches as your gaze roams over Belle’s bare skin. She’s everything you’ve admired for so long: radiant, confident, and breathtakingly real. For years, she’s been a distant fantasy, a figure on a screen or in your headphones, and now she’s here, naked before you. You’re too stunned to move, your eyes wide, your body frozen in awe.

Belle notices your reaction and smiles, her confidence unwavering as her eyes sweep over you. Her gaze flickers downward briefly, pausing, and a subtle shift in her expression betrays her thoughts—her smile widening slightly, her brows lifting just enough to suggest admiration. When her gaze returns to your face, there’s a flicker of something playful and knowing in her eyes, the kind of look that makes your chest tighten.

She glances toward Haneul, who is still seated on the couch, her cheeks flushed and her eyes glinting with a mix of amusement and arousal. Belle tilts her head slightly, giving Haneul a knowing glance—a silent, almost conspiratorial expression that says without words: You’re a lucky girl.

Belle takes your hand and guides you to the couch, her touch firm yet unhurried, every movement exuding confidence. She nudges you to sit, her eyes locked on yours with a smirk that sends a thrill through you. Her graceful form lowers between your legs, her movements deliberate as she kneels. "Let’s see how much you can handle," she murmurs, her voice low and teasing, every word dripping with intent.

Your breath catches sharply as her hand wraps around your length, her touch warm and deliberate. Her fingers glide over you with practiced precision, each motion sending ripples of sensation up your spine. The faint trace of her perfume—subtle and musky—lingers in the air, mingling with the heat of the moment. A soft gasp escapes your lips, unbidden, as her grip tightens just slightly, perfectly calibrated to draw the first hint of tension from deep within you. Belle doesn’t rush; her eyes flick upward, locking with yours, and for a moment, it’s as if the world narrows to just the two of you. Her gaze is intent, assessing, drinking in every shift in your expression. The faintest smile tugs at the corners of her lips, a quiet show of confidence, before she leans forward, parting them to envelop you in her warm, wet mouth.

The sensation is immediate and overwhelming, a rush of heat and pressure that leaves you breathless. Her tongue moves with deliberate skill, teasing and exploring as it swirls along your length. The contrast between the firm seal of her lips and the soft, wet heat of her tongue is electrifying, sending shivers coursing through your body. Your fingers instinctively grip the edge of the couch as you try to steady yourself against the onslaught of sensation. Each flick of her tongue against the sensitive underside of your tip feels impossibly precise, perfectly tuned to unravel you. Her movements are controlled, calculated, and maddeningly slow, as though she’s savoring every moment—and daring you to do the same.

From the corner of your eye, you catch Haneul shifting on the couch. At first, her gaze is fixed on Belle, her dark eyes following the rhythm of her movements with a mix of fascination and intrigue. Her chest rises and falls steadily, though her breath catches ever so slightly when Belle’s head dips lower, taking you deeper. The faint flush on her cheeks deepens as she watches, her lips parting subtly as if to echo your own shaky breaths. But soon, her attention drifts upward—to you.

Haneul’s eyes widen slightly as they meet your face, and her breath hitches as she takes in the rawness of your expression. Your head tilted back, your jaw slack, every part of you consumed by the sensations Belle is drawing from you. There’s a hunger in your gaze, an unguarded intensity she’s rarely seen, and it sends a wave of heat coursing through her. Her thighs press tightly together, her own arousal building as she drinks in every detail: the faint sheen of sweat glistening on your skin, the tension in your arms as you grip the couch for stability, the way your lips part with soft, uneven breaths. It’s as if she’s seeing a side of you she never has before, and the sight ignites something deep and primal within her.

Belle’s pace shifts, the languid rhythm giving way to something more insistent. Her lips slide along your length with increasing fervor, her tongue teasing you mercilessly. The slick sounds of her movements fill the room, mingling with the soft gasps escaping your lips. Her hand joins the effort, stroking you in perfect sync with her mouth, her touch firm yet tantalizingly smooth. Each stroke feels like a deliberate test, designed to push you closer to the edge. Your breathing grows ragged, shallow inhales interspersed with low groans that you can’t suppress.

You glance down at Belle, and the sight alone nearly undoes you. Her dark eyes are locked onto yours, gleaming with satisfaction and something deeper—possessive, teasing, utterly confident. Even as she takes you deeper, her cheeks hollowing with effort, her lips curl into a subtle smirk, the look of someone who knows exactly what she’s doing. Her tongue flicks against the most sensitive spots with maddening precision, each motion sending jolts of electricity racing through your core.

Behind her, Haneul’s gaze is transfixed. Her breathing quickens, her chest rising and falling with visible urgency as she watches you unravel. One hand rests against her thigh, trembling slightly, while the other lingers near her folds, her fingers twitching as though tempted to join the intensity surrounding her. Her lips part slightly, soft sounds escaping her as her arousal mirrors your own, her body responding to the raw display of pleasure before her.

Belle’s rhythm intensifies, her mouth and hand working together in perfect tandem. The wet heat of her lips contrasts with the firm, deliberate strokes of her hand, the combination almost unbearable. Your fingers dig into the couch, your body tense and coiled like a spring as the fire in your stomach builds. A deep groan escapes you, raw and unrestrained, echoing in the room as Belle’s relentless pace pushes you closer to the brink.

Haneul’s eyes remain locked on you, her own breathing quickening as she watches the moment unfold. The sight of you trembling, completely lost in the force of your climax, sends a jolt of heat straight through her. She feels her thighs press together involuntarily, a rush of slick arousal pooling between her legs as her own body responds to the rawness of the scene. Her chest rises and falls with shallow breaths, her fingers curling against her thighs as she watches, captivated and overwhelmed by how unrestrained you’ve become.

Belle pulls back slightly just as you reach your peak, her hand stroking you with firm, deliberate movements. Your release comes in hot, thick waves, spilling across her lips and cheeks with startling intensity. Belle tilts her head slightly, her mouth parting as she lets the remnants land on her tongue, the streaks of your climax glistening against her skin. She doesn’t flinch or hesitate, her expression one of pure satisfaction. A smirk tugs at the corners of her mouth as she slowly drags her tongue along her lips, savoring every drop.

Haneul lets out a soft, almost imperceptible gasp, her body reacting before her mind can fully catch up. Her thighs shift, a faint ache blooming between them as she feels a flush spread across her chest. The sight of you—completely undone, your chest heaving as you struggle to catch your breath—is impossibly arousing. And Belle, kneeling there with your release dripping down her face, wearing it with an unapologetic confidence that makes her look even more untouchable—it’s almost too much.

Belle meets your gaze, her smirk deepening as she licks one final drop from her lower lip. "Not bad," she murmurs, her voice low and rich with satisfaction. Her fingers trail down your thigh briefly, a playful reminder of the control she wielded just moments ago.

Haneul’s breath hitches as her eyes dart between you and Belle, her own arousal impossible to ignore now. The heat, the tension, the sheer audacity of the moment—it all swirls together, leaving her both awestruck and deeply, undeniably turned on.

Belle leans back slightly, her gaze flickering toward Haneul, her lips curling into a wicked grin. "I think he enjoyed that," she says, her voice smooth, teasing, and dripping with satisfaction. Her eyes flick briefly to you, then back to Haneul, as though gauging her reaction. Haneul doesn’t respond immediately, her breath shallow, caught up in the rush of her own thoughts. Her heart races as the moment lingers, a strange thrill mingling with the heat coursing through her body.

Belle rises with fluid grace, moving to the couch. Every step is deliberate, each motion exuding a confidence that seems to fill the room. She sits on the side, reclining back against the armrest, her legs spreading slowly, confidently, as she positions herself. Her bare skin glows faintly under the dim light, every curve and line of her body sculpted as though by an artist’s hand. Her poise is magnetic, her gaze unwavering as she locks eyes with you.

You stand there for a moment, frozen. Your breath catches as the surreal nature of the scene washes over you in waves. Belle, the woman you’d admired for so long, was waiting for you, her body open and inviting, her smirk daring you to act.

Noticing your hesitation, Belle’s smirk softens slightly, something warmer flashing in her expression. "Come here," she murmurs, her voice low and velvety, carrying an unspoken command that sends a shiver down your spine. The authority in her tone leaves no room for doubt, yet there’s a tenderness beneath it, an acknowledgment of your hesitation.

You move toward her, your legs feeling heavy as your heart pounds in your chest. Kneeling between her legs, you look up, meeting her gaze as her dark eyes bore into yours. She’s utterly in control, even as she spreads herself before you, her confidence radiating in every deliberate movement. For a moment, you almost blank out, staring at her with wide eyes, overwhelmed by the reality of it all. Belle, this untouchable goddess of a performer, was here, her legs open, waiting for you. The thought leaves you dizzy, your breaths shallow as you try to ground yourself.

You lean in slowly, your breath brushing against her skin as the faint, intoxicating scent of her arousal fills your senses. It sharpens the edge of your nerves, each detail of her more vivid than the last: the glisten of her skin, the subtle quiver of her thighs, the soft rise and fall of her chest. You hover there, so close and yet frozen, as though one wrong move might shatter the spell. The surreal nature of the moment presses down on you, leaving you suspended in sensory overload.

Belle notices immediately. Without hesitation, her hand shoots out, her fingers tangling in your hair with a firm, possessive grip. She pulls your head forward with deliberate force, pressing your lips firmly against her folds. The suddenness of the gesture snaps you out of your trance, the taste and warmth of her flooding your senses as she holds you there.

Her hand lingers, her fingers tightening slightly as if to make sure you’re fully engaged before releasing you. The soft vibration of her moan travels through her body, pulling something primal from deep within you. Instinct takes over, and your lips begin to move against her, brushing tentatively at first. Your movements are slow and deliberate, each stroke of your tongue light and exploratory, as though savoring the taste of something rare and exquisite.

Belle’s moan deepens, her voice low and unrestrained, a sound so intimate and raw it sends a jolt through you. Your member twitches at the sound, your arousal building with each note she releases. Encouraged, you grow bolder, each movement of your tongue more confident, more deliberate. You start slow, savoring every inch of her, your strokes measured and intentional as if this were a feast meant to be lingered over. The warmth of her, the way she reacts to each flick and swirl of your tongue, is utterly intoxicating.

Belle’s hands grip the armrest behind her as her head tilts back. Her breathing grows heavier, her chest rising and falling in time with your movements. The soft, melodic sounds she makes pull you deeper into the moment, every moan spurring you to explore more, to find new ways to make her lose herself.

Her thighs tremble faintly under your touch, and you steady her, your hands moving to her hips to keep her in place. Her soft gasps grow louder, her voice dipping into raw, unguarded cries of pleasure. You press closer, your confidence mounting as you lose yourself in the rhythm of her body, every sound she makes driving you further.

Belle’s back arches slightly, her breathing quickening as your tongue swirls around her sensitive nub before dipping lower to tease her entrance. The way she reacts—her hips shifting toward you, the way her fingers grip tighter against the couch—sends a fresh wave of desire surging through you. You keep going, pulling every ounce of pleasure from her as her soft cries fill the room, each one a melody more beautiful than the last.

With each moan, your confidence builds, the initial hesitation melting away. Soon, your movements grow less restrained, driven by an almost primal need to pull more from her, to hear her voice climb higher. You press your tongue more firmly against her, each stroke hungrier, more desperate. The desire to make her lose herself completely consumes you, fueling every motion. You focus intently on the way her body responds—the slight tremble in her thighs, the way her hips instinctively shift toward you, chasing every sensation.

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Haneul shifting on the couch. Her breathing has deepened, the subtle hitch in each exhale betraying her growing arousal. When you glance briefly in her direction, your heart skips. Her thighs are pressed tightly together, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her skin flushed with heat. Her dark eyes are locked on you, a mix of fascination and hunger, drawn to the intensity with which you’re worshiping Belle. The sight of you so consumed, so eager, is clearly affecting her.

The realization sends a thrill through you, but you return your focus to Belle, determined to elicit even more from her. Each movement of your tongue becomes calculated yet frantic, teasing the edges of her folds before delving inside. You savor the way her body reacts, the faint shudder that ripples through her as you alternate between swirling around her entrance and flicking lightly against her clit. Every motion pulls another sound from her lips, a fresh wave of breathy, unrestrained moans that fill the room like music.

Your hands grip her thighs to steady yourself, your fingers digging into the soft flesh as you hold her open. When her legs begin to tremble, instinctively trying to close against the overwhelming sensations, you tighten your hold, refusing to let her escape the intensity. Belle’s moans grow louder, her voice breaking into gasps as her back arches, her hands gripping the couch tightly. The usual control she carries so effortlessly is unraveling before you, every sound she makes spurring you on.

From behind you comes a soft gasp, breaking through the haze of your focus. You pause, turning your head slightly, and your breath catches. Haneul is completely naked now, her clothes discarded and forgotten in the growing pile on the floor. Her hands move over her body, one slipping between her thighs, her fingers working rhythmically as she watches. Her gaze is locked on you and Belle, but there’s something deeper in her eyes—a connection that pulls you back toward her every time. Her breath is uneven, her lips parted, her expression a mix of arousal and admiration.

The sight of her—the way she’s looking at you, her body glistening in the low light—ignites something even hotter inside you. As much as you want Belle, as consuming as this moment is, Haneul’s presence grounds you, intensifies your desire. You turn back to Belle, your determination redoubled. If this was your moment to impress, to give them both something unforgettable, you weren’t going to hold back.

Your attention zeroes in on Belle’s clit now, your tongue moving with rapid precision against the sensitive nub. Each flick and press earns you a sharper gasp, a louder moan. Her hips buck against you, her movements desperate as her body chases the pleasure you’re giving her. Your hands hold her legs firmly in place, spreading her wider, ensuring she can’t escape the onslaught of sensation. Belle’s cries grow louder, her usual poise dissolving into pure, unrestrained pleasure.

"Don’t stop," she gasps, her voice high and trembling, her chest heaving with every word. Her fingers dig into the couch, her thighs quivering beneath your grasp as she teeters on the edge. You don’t relent. Your tongue is relentless, teasing and pressing and flicking with a rhythm that drives her higher and higher. Her legs strain against your arms, her muscles taut, but you hold her open, refusing to let her pull away from the intensity.

Belle’s climax builds rapidly, her moans turning into sharp cries as her body begins to quake. You can feel it—the way her thighs tighten, her hips jerk involuntarily, her entire body preparing for release. When it hits, it’s like an explosion. Her voice breaks into a loud, unabashed cry as her back arches, her fingers clutching the couch for dear life.

A sudden rush of liquid warmth drenches your face and chest, Belle’s release coming in an overwhelming wave. It’s powerful, unexpected, and utterly intoxicating. The sharp, heady scent of her arousal fills the air, thick and unmistakable, as her body jerks uncontrollably beneath your grip. You pause for a heartbeat, stunned by the rawness of the moment, the sheer force of her climax leaving her trembling violently. Her soft whimpers fill the air, each one high-pitched and shaky as the last waves of pleasure crash through her. Her thighs quiver, her knees giving out completely, and the tension in her frame melts into exhausted surrender as she slumps forward, still twitching from the aftershocks.

Behind you, Haneul lets out a choked cry, her voice breaking with the intensity of her own release. You turn your head just in time to see her arch back, her body taut as if caught in the grip of something uncontrollable. Her hand moves frantically between her legs, her fingers glistening with her arousal as her hips buck against her touch. Her thighs clamp together momentarily, her movements erratic as her climax overtakes her with full force.

Her moans are raw and unrestrained, filling the room as her body trembles violently. Her free hand grips the edge of the couch. She fights to keep herself grounded, but her body betrays her—every muscle quakes as wave after wave of pleasure floods her senses. A sudden gush of her release escapes, slicking her thighs and pooling beneath her, the scent mingling with Belle’s and creating an intoxicating blend of musk that saturates the air.

Her head tilts back, her mouth open in a silent scream before another loud, broken moan escapes her lips. Her entire body shudders as the peak finally crests, leaving her slumped against the couch, her chest heaving and her skin glistening with sweat. Her cries mix with Belle’s lingering whimpers, creating a shared symphony of pleasure that echoes off the walls, binding the three of you in the raw, primal intensity of the moment.

The air feels heavy now, thick with the scent of release and the echoes of your shared sounds. The moment stretches endlessly, each of you caught in the lingering aftershocks, bound together by the raw intimacy of it all. Belle reclines against the couch, her chest rising and falling as she catches her breath, her body still trembling faintly from the intensity of her climax.

Her gaze flickers to Haneul, who is slumped back on the couch, her flushed skin glistening in the dim light. Haneul’s breaths come in shallow gasps, her body visibly relaxed yet humming with the residual heat of her release. Their eyes meet briefly, a shared look passing between them—something unspoken, an acknowledgment of the rawness and beauty of the moment they’ve just shared. Belle���s lips curl into a faint smile, her confidence glowing in the aftermath, and Haneul mirrors it with a soft, breathless laugh.

As Belle’s gaze shifts, it lands on you, still kneeling between her legs. Her eyes drop slightly, taking in your form, and then lower still. She notices your member, back at full strength, glistening faintly with a mix of exertion and her previous attentions. A mischievous spark lights in her eyes as an idea begins to form. She straightens slightly, her body language shifting back into one of command, her movements deliberate and poised. Her gaze flickers between you and Haneul, her lips curling into a smirk.

"Alright," she murmurs, her voice low and commanding. Her eyes lock onto Haneul with an air of playful authority. "Haneul, lie down for me—right here."

She gestures to the space where she had just been, the fabric still warm and damp from her release. Haneul hesitates for only a moment, her eyes darting to yours, seeking silent reassurance. When you nod, she mirrors the gesture, a faint blush spreading across her cheeks as she moves to the couch. There’s a nervous grace in the way she positions herself, her movements tentative but unresisting. She leans back against the armrest, her legs spreading slowly, exposing folds already glistening with arousal. Her breathing quickens, and her gaze alternates between you and Belle, anticipation written across her face.

Belle shifts to the opposite end of the couch, bending over the armrest so she’s facing Haneul. The position stretches her body out provocatively, her curves taut and inviting, her flushed, sweat-slicked skin catching the light in a way that makes her look almost otherworldly. Despite her disheveled state, her smirk remains confident, teasing, as if she were still performing. She lifts her head slightly, her eyes locking onto you as she gestures with a lazy wave of her fingers. "Behind me," she says, her tone firm but laced with playful authority. "Let’s make sure your girlfriend has the best seat in the house."

Your breath hitches as you step forward, positioning yourself behind Belle. From this angle, the sight before you is almost too much to take in—Haneul reclining in front of you, her flushed face framed by her tousled hair, her chest rising and falling with quick, shallow breaths. Her legs remain spread, her folds pulsing faintly as her fingers move over herself in slow, deliberate circles. Then there’s Belle, bent over in front of you, her body radiating heat, her hips tilting slightly to give you better access. The combination—the contrast of Belle’s commanding confidence and Haneul’s vulnerable allure—sends a rush of heat surging through you.

You guide yourself to Belle’s entrance, your tip brushing against her warm, slick folds. The sensation is immediate, electrifying, and for a moment, you falter, overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of the moment. Belle lets out a low hum of approval, her body shifting back toward you in encouragement, the motion subtle but unmistakable. She glances back at you with a smirk, her gaze equal parts amused and urging, her confidence pulling you forward.

Taking a steadying breath, you press forward, easing yourself inside her with slow, deliberate movements. The first push is exquisite, her tight warmth enveloping you inch by inch. Belle’s breath catches, her soft gasp breaking into a low moan as you stretch her. Her fingers clutch at the armrest, her knuckles whitening briefly as she adjusts to your size. The sound sends shivers down your spine, the rawness of it matching the tension coiling in your body. She exhales shakily, her voice low and laced with satisfaction. "There we go," she murmurs, her tone teasing but edged with need.

Your eyes flick instinctively toward Haneul, seeking reassurance in this surreal moment. She’s watching intently, her lips parted as her chest rises and falls in rhythm with her quickening breaths. Her hand moves boldly now, her fingers gliding against her folds as her arousal heightens. The wet sounds of her pleasure mingle with Belle’s breathy moans, creating a symphony of desire that fuels your movements.

You start with a slow, measured rhythm, your thrusts deliberate as you focus on the way Belle responds. Her body moves with yours, her hips rolling back to meet each motion, a soft hum escaping her lips with every push. The grip of her walls around you is overwhelming, each stroke building the tension higher. Your hands grip her hips firmly, grounding yourself as the moment threatens to sweep you away.

But it’s Haneul’s gaze that keeps drawing you back. Her heavy-lidded eyes flicker between your face and where your body connects with Belle, her expression a mix of awe and unfiltered arousal. Her fingers quicken between her thighs, her soft, breathy sounds spurring you on. The sight of her like this—completely enthralled, her body trembling as she watches—is almost enough to undo you.

Belle shifts beneath you, her movements growing more insistent. Her body rocks with your rhythm, her back arching slightly as she pushes against you, trying to match your thrusts. The soft, slick sounds of your connection fill the room, each movement drawing a quiet gasp or low moan from her lips. But it’s not enough. Her hips press back harder, meeting yours in a way that makes your breath hitch, her determination to draw more from you undeniable.

She turns her head slightly, her dark eyes locking onto yours over her shoulder. There’s a heat in her gaze, a challenge sparking behind it that sends shivers through you. "Faster," she murmurs, her voice breathy but commanding, every word dripping with need. Then, with a smirk tugging at her lips, she adds, "Harder." The words land with weight, her tone tinged with expectation, daring you to give her everything she’s asking for. The tension coils tighter in your chest, and you feel the pulse of heat shoot straight through you.

You adjust your rhythm, your hips driving forward with more force. Each thrust sends a jolt through Belle’s body, her gasps turning into louder, more desperate cries as her hands clutch the armrest for support as she braces herself, her back arching deeper with every movement. But Belle isn’t content to let you take full control. Her hips grind backward into you, the motion deliberate and hungry as she matches your pace. The sheer effortlessness of her movements, the way she works her body to meet yours, leaves you breathless.

Her moans grow louder, more frantic, as the intensity builds. Her legs tremble beneath her, her knees shifting against the floor as she struggles to maintain her balance. Her hips buck against you, her movements urging you to go deeper, harder, her body demanding more. The force of each thrust pushes her against the edge of the couch, her body pressed firmly into the armrest. The soft fabric does little to muffle the sound of her cries as they rise higher, turning into sharp, high-pitched whimpers with every deep stroke.

But something still holds you back—a faint hesitation lingering in the back of your mind, the weight of the moment pressing on you. Your gaze flickers toward Haneul, seeking her grounding presence, and the sight of her makes your breath catch.

Her eyes glisten with arousal, her gaze flickering between your face and the way your body moves with Belle. Her chest heaves with every breath, her own arousal climbing as her fingers work with increasing urgency. Her thighs tremble, her movements growing bolder as she watches you, completely lost in the rhythm you’ve created. When she notices the slight falter in your thrusts, her lips curl into a soft, knowing smile.

"Give her everything, baby," Haneul whispers, her voice trembling but full of certainty. Her words carry no jealousy, only a quiet thrill, the sincerity in her tone sending a fresh rush of desire through you. "Don’t hold back."

Her words break whatever was holding you back. You grip Belle’s arms firmly, your fingers wrapping around her toned biceps as you pull her back toward you. The strength of your hold sends a jolt through her, her breath hitching in surprise. The first thrust with this newfound confidence hits a spot deep inside her, and the sharpness of her reaction is immediate—a loud, high-pitched squeal that escapes her lips, raw and unrestrained. Her body rocks forward, her legs losing their grip on the floor as the force of your motion propels her into the couch’s edge.

Belle braces herself instinctively, her body jerking forward with each powerful thrust. But with her arms pinned securely behind her, gripped firmly in your hands, there’s nothing for her to hold onto, nothing to ground her against the relentless rhythm. Her head tilts forward, dark strands of hair clinging to her damp neck and shoulders, the strain in her posture only amplifying the vulnerability of her position. Each thrust sends her rocking into the edge of the couch, the plush fabric sandwiching her hips, forcing her to take every inch of you with no escape.

The angle leaves her completely at your mercy, her body arching slightly as each deep, unrelenting stroke sends shockwaves through her. Her voice rises in pitch, raw and breathless, every sound spilling from her lips a mix of desperation and pleasure. The force you drive into her keeps her pinned against the couch, her body unable to resist the steady, punishing rhythm.

Her cries grow louder, more broken, the lack of control heightening her response. "Oh—God, Yes!" she gasps, her voice cracking as her legs quiver beneath her. Her body seems to melt into the moment, yielding entirely to the intensity of your movements, her form trembling as each thrust pushes her further into the edge of bliss. The tension in her thighs gives way, and she surrenders fully, the curve of her back accentuating the way she takes you, completely open, completely consumed.

Haneul watches the two of you, her eyes wide with arousal as her breathing grows shallow. Her gaze roams over your body, the sheen of sweat glistening on your skin, highlighting the way your muscles flex with every deep thrust into Belle. Her thighs press together briefly, her hand pausing before resuming its circular motions as she takes in the sight. The sheer hunger in your movements, the raw force of your rhythm, sends a fresh wave of heat surging through her. She can’t believe how arousing it is to see you like this—so primal, so utterly consumed.

Her fingers move faster as she gives in to the sight before her. Every sound—the wet slap of your bodies connecting, Belle’s unrestrained cries, the ragged rhythm of your breath—pushes her closer to the edge. Her thoughts spiral into a chaotic mix of disbelief and desire. She never imagined she’d feel this way, watching you with someone else, but the reality is undeniable.

Belle’s cries shift, her voice breaking into choked moans as the intensity of your thrusts makes it impossible for her to keep her composure. "Fuck, you feel so good." she gasps, her voice trembling. Her back arches further, her body instinctively seeking more even as the couch forces her hips upward, heightening every sensation. Her legs tremble uncontrollably now, the floor offering no anchor as her knees slide slightly with each powerful thrust.

The pleasure coursing through Belle is relentless, each motion driving her closer to the brink. "Don’t stop," she cries, her voice a ragged mix of plea and demand, her words breaking as her breaths come faster. You can feel her trembling under you, her body tightening with each deep thrust. Her arms strain against your grip, but there’s no escape. She can only take what you’re giving her, her fingers curling helplessly in the air as her legs quiver beneath her, barely holding her up.

Haneul’s eyes flick between Belle’s flushed, sweat-slicked body and yours, her gaze darting to the way your muscles flex and shift with every motion. Her own arousal mounts uncontrollably, the tension in her body coiling tighter and tighter. Her breathing grows shallow, her chest rising and falling rapidly as soft whimpers escape her lips. Her fingers work furiously between her legs, her thighs trembling as the pleasure surges higher, threatening to overtake her. Her flushed skin glows in the low light, her lips parted as though trying to find air in the heated haze of the moment.

Belle notices Haneul’s struggle, the way her fingers falter slightly, her movements becoming erratic as the edge looms dangerously close. Between her moans, Belle lets out a shaky laugh, her voice breaking under the strain. "Not yet," she gasps, her words sharp and commanding despite the tremble in her tone. "Hold it."

Haneul’s eyes widen, her body freezing momentarily as the words sink in. Her hand stills, and her legs clamp together instinctively as she fights the rising tide threatening to crash over her. Her body trembles violently, her teeth sinking into her lower lip in a desperate attempt to hold on. Her hands clutch at the couch as she pushes back against the overwhelming wave of pleasure, refusing to let it consume her. Every nerve in her body feels like it’s on fire, her muscles straining as she teeters precariously on the edge.

You feel it too—Belle’s body clenching around you, her cries turning into breathless, frantic whimpers as her climax builds to an unbearable peak. Her head tilts forward, dark strands of hair clinging to her damp skin as her body trembles uncontrollably. Her voice cracks as she repeats the command, her tone desperate and insistent. "Hold it. Not yet."

The tension in the room is unbearable, a shared anticipation that binds the three of you together. Every sound, every movement feeds into the moment, the energy coiling tighter and tighter, ready to snap. Belle’s voice finally cuts through the haze, gasping out in a tone laced with both authority and desperation. "Now, Haneul. Let go."

The release is immediate, and the room erupts in a symphony of pleasure. Haneul cries out loudly, her voice raw and uninhibited as her body arches off the couch, the intensity of her climax washing over her in crashing waves. Her hands clutch the fabric beneath her, nails digging into them as her thighs tremble violently, unable to contain the force of her release. Her head tilts back, her lips parted in a series of broken gasps and cries as the pleasure consumes her completely.

Belle’s body tightens impossibly around you as her own climax hits. Her cries rise in pitch, her voice breaking into a series of unrestrained moans as her legs give out completely, leaving her suspended only by the couch’s edge and your firm grip on her arms. Each deep thrust pushes her further into bliss, her body trembling violently as she surrenders entirely to the overwhelming sensations. Her head tilts back, her mouth open in a silent scream before another loud, desperate cry bursts from her lips, the force of her release echoing through the room.

The intensity of the moment sends you over the edge, the sight of both women undone by pleasure pushing you past your limit. With one final, deep thrust, you empty yourself inside Belle, the warmth and tightness surrounding you heightening every sensation. A guttural moan escapes your lips as your body trembles with the force of your release, every muscle taut before the wave of pleasure washes through you, leaving you breathless and shaking. Belle’s body clenches around you, milking every last bit of your release as she shudders beneath your grip.

The room fills with a harmony of moans, each voice blending together in a perfect, raw symphony of shared ecstasy. The sounds—Haneul’s cries of pleasure, Belle’s desperate moans, and your own guttural groans—echo off the walls, amplifying the intensity of the moment. The mingling scents of sweat, arousal, and release create a heady, intoxicating musk that clings to the air, making the atmosphere feel thick and electric.

You stay there for a moment, catching your breath as the room grows quieter, the echoes of your shared moans still lingering in the thick, musk-filled air. The three of you are trembling, spent, your bodies slick with sweat and satisfaction. When you finally pull out, Belle’s body jerks slightly at the motion. She tries to straighten herself, but her legs give out beneath her, leaving her slumped against the armrest. She lets out a soft laugh, her usual confidence momentarily replaced with breathless exhaustion.

"Here," you murmur, stepping forward and gently guiding her to sit on the couch. She shifts carefully, her movements languid as you help her settle into a position facing Haneul. Belle leans back, her legs spreading lazily, her body still radiating heat. Her eyes flicker to Haneul, and her smirk returns, teasing and wicked. "Come here, sweetheart," she purrs, her voice low and inviting. She gestures downward, her fingers tracing idly along her inner thigh. "Clean up your mess."

Haneul hesitates for only a moment, her eyes darting to yours as though silently seeking permission. When you give her a subtle nod, her lips part, and she moves forward on shaky knees, positioning herself between Belle’s legs. Her hands glide along Belle’s thighs, her touch delicate but deliberate, her fingers brushing over the slick remnants of your release. Belle shivers at the contact, her breath catching as Haneul leans in closer.

Haneul’s lips press against Belle’s folds, tentative at first, her tongue sweeping softly along her. Belle gasps, her body twitching slightly as the sensation sends fresh tremors through her. Haneul becomes bolder, her tongue moving with slow, deliberate strokes, cleaning every trace of you from Belle’s warm, sensitive skin. Her fingers follow, slipping carefully inside to scoop out the remaining seed. Haneul brings her fingers to her lips, licking them clean with a precision that makes Belle let out a shaky moan.

"God," Belle murmurs, her voice unsteady as her body shudders under Haneul’s attention. "You’re thorough, aren’t you?"

Haneul doesn’t respond, her focus entirely on the task at hand. Her tongue and lips continue their work, moving with a mix of care and hunger that draws soft, breathy sounds from Belle. Each stroke of her tongue sends aftershocks through Belle’s body, her thighs trembling uncontrollably as her head tilts back, her damp hair clinging to her skin. By the time Haneul finishes, Belle is slumped against the back of the couch, her chest rising and falling heavily, a long, satisfied sigh escaping her lips.

When Haneul sits back, her lips glistening and her cheeks flushed, she meets your gaze. You’ve been watching from nearby, leaning against the armrest, your heart pounding as you take in the scene. The intensity of the moment is reflected in her expression—a mix of awe, satisfaction, and a lingering arousal that hasn’t entirely subsided.

Without a word, Haneul rises onto her knees and turns toward Belle. Her hands rest gently on Belle’s thighs as she leans in, her lips brushing Belle’s in a soft, exploratory kiss. The contact deepens quickly, their mouths moving together, sharing the mingled taste of you. Their kiss grows more fervent, their bodies pressing together briefly before Haneul pulls back, her chest rising and falling as she turns toward you.

You sit back on the couch, the cushions soft beneath you as you watch her approach. Haneul climbs onto your lap, her knees straddling you as she presses close, her arms wrapping loosely around your neck. Her lips find yours immediately, and the kiss is warm, insistent, filled with a mix of tenderness and lingering heat. You can taste Belle on her mouth—the traces of her release and your own mingling on her tongue—and it sends a fresh wave of desire coursing through you, even in the haze of exhaustion.

Haneul melts into you, her body fitting perfectly against yours as she snuggles into your chest. Her head rests on your shoulder, her breathing evening out as she presses soft kisses to your neck. Your arms wrap around her instinctively, holding her close as the weight of the night settles over the three of you.

Belle shifts beside you, her movements unhurried, her body still radiating the warmth of exertion. She reclines lazily next to you, her smirk softening into something gentler. With a quiet sigh, she leans in, resting her head on your opposite shoulder. The scent of her hair—sweet with a faint musky undertone—fills your senses as her body relaxes against yours. Her fingers idly trace along your arm, her touch light and content.

The three of you sit in comfortable silence, the heat of the moment giving way to a warm, shared intimacy. Haneul’s soft kisses continue, her lips grazing your skin as her body molds against yours, her warmth seeping into you. Belle’s breathing steadies, her head nestled on your opposite shoulder, her hair tickling your neck as her eyes flutter closed. The satisfied curve of her lips lingers even as her body begins to relax fully. Your arms tighten around Haneul, one hand brushing lightly against Belle’s arm, grounding all of you in the quiet connection of the moment.

The aftermath unfolds in a haze of gentle movements and shared smiles, the intensity giving way to an almost surreal calm. Eventually, Belle stirs, her head lifting from your shoulder as she stretches with a languid grace. Her legs are still unsteady, and she steadies herself briefly on the edge of the couch before smirking. "You two are something else," she murmurs, her voice carrying a teasing warmth as she reaches for a nearby robe. She drapes it over herself loosely, tying it at her waist before turning back to face you and Haneul.

Belle steps closer, her dark eyes meeting yours with a quiet intensity. Without a word, she leans in, her lips brushing softly against yours in a lingering kiss. The gesture is simple, but the tenderness behind it leaves you breathless, your chest tightening as she pulls away. Then, she turns to Haneul, cupping her face gently in her hands. Their kiss is just as soft, just as deliberate, and when Belle pulls back, there’s a glimmer of affection in her smile.

"You’re lucky," she says, her voice low and sincere, her gaze flicking between the two of you. "Both of you."

She reaches for a small bag on the nearby table, her movements unhurried. From it, she pulls out a pair of sleek, laminated passes, their glossy surfaces catching the dim light. "Here," she says, holding them out. "These will get you backstage at any of my shows. Consider it my personal VIP invitation." Her smirk softens slightly, a hint of mischief in her expression. "I hope I see you again."

With a small wave and a final glance over her shoulder, Belle steps out of the room, leaving behind the faint scent of her perfume. The door clicks softly shut, and the quiet, dimly lit space feels heavier, more intimate, as you and Haneul are left alone together.

As you both step out of the venue, the cool night air wraps around you, a stark contrast to the heat and intensity of the evening. The adrenaline from the night begins to fade, leaving behind a pleasant exhaustion that settles deep into your bones. Haneul leans heavily against you, her arm slipping around your waist as her steps falter slightly. She lets out a soft laugh, her cheeks still flushed and glowing.

"My legs feel like jelly," she mumbles, glancing up at you with a sheepish smile. "I don’t think I can make it to the car without collapsing."

You chuckle, steadying her as she stumbles again. "Want me to carry you?"

She pouts, her tone playful but tinged with genuine need. "Would you? Please? I’ll be the best girlfriend ever."

You crouch down, laughing softly. "You already are. Come on, hop on."

With a giggle, she climbs onto your back, her arms wrapping securely around your shoulders. Her warmth presses against you, and her face nestles against the side of your neck, her breath tickling your skin. "You’re the best," she murmurs, her voice soft and affectionate.

The walk across the large parking lot is quiet at first, the sound of your footsteps echoing in the stillness. Haneul sighs contentedly, her cheek resting against your shoulder as you carry her, the weight of her feeling comforting and grounding.

After a moment, you break the silence. "So… what did you think?" Your voice is hesitant, unsure, as the memories of the night replay vividly in your mind. "Was it… okay?"

Haneul shifts slightly, tightening her arms around you as her lips brush against your ear. "Okay?" she repeats, incredulous. "That was… I don’t even have words for how hot that was."

Her words send a wave of warmth through you, a mix of embarrassment and relief flooding your senses. "Really?" you ask, glancing back at her. "I mean, I thought you’d like it, but I wasn’t sure "I didn’t think it would be so hot," she says suddenly, her tone earnest and spilling over with excitement. Her words come quickly, like she’s unable to contain them. "But watching you—" She pauses for a moment, a small, almost shy laugh escaping her lips before her voice picks up again, stronger. "Watching you let go like that, after I told you to? God, it was one of the hottest things I’ve ever seen."

Her arms tighten around your shoulders, and you can feel her breath hitch slightly as she continues. "You were holding back at first—I could see it in every move. But then you looked at me, and I could almost feel it—the exact moment you stopped hesitating. And when you did, it was like you became someone else. All that strength, that power—you just used it. And I knew I’d done that. I gave you that permission, and you didn’t just take it—you owned it."

Her voice lowers slightly, but the excitement lingers in every word. "And Belle," she breathes, a soft laugh escaping her. "To see her like that. She’s so strong, so confident—this larger-than-life presence—and yet, you had her completely undone. She wasn’t the performer anymore; she was just… vulnerable, giving in completely. Watching that happen, knowing you were the one doing it, it was…" She trails off, shaking her head slightly against your neck before whispering, "I don’t think I’ll ever forget it."

She shifts slightly on your back, and her voice grows softer, tinged with awe. "Seeing you like that, knowing you could let go so completely—it was amazing. I didn’t know I’d feel this way, but I loved every second of it. It was… more than I ever expected."

You glance back at her, your brow furrowed slightly. "You’re sure? I mean, you’re not just saying this to make me feel better?"

Haneul chuckles softly, her breath warm against your neck as she presses a kiss to your cheek. "I’m sure," she murmurs. "Really. Every second of it was amazing. I didn’t know I’d feel this way, but I loved it. And… seeing you happy, seeing you like that… It made me happy too."

Her words settle over you like a warm blanket, filling you with a quiet, undeniable joy. You press a kiss to her arm, your heart impossibly full as you continue walking. The night feels surreal, the world around you fading into the background as the two of you bask in the afterglow of what you’ve shared.

By the time you reach the car, Haneul’s head has grown heavy against your shoulder, her soft breaths tickling your neck as she begins to drift off. You carefully lower her into the passenger seat, her sleepy smile barely visible in the dim light. The drive home is quiet, the silence filled with a new kind of intimacy. The memories of the night replay like a vivid dream, each detail etched into your mind.

When you finally reach your place, Haneul is half-asleep, her head resting against the window with a small, contented smile. You carry her inside, her arms draping loosely around your neck as she stirs slightly. As you gently set her down on the bed, she shifts slightly, her lashes fluttering as she blinks up at you.

You brush a stray strand of hair from her face and lean down, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. "Thank you," you whisper, your voice quiet but filled with sincerity.

Her eyes flutter open briefly, and she smiles, her voice barely audible as she murmurs, "For what?"

"For everything," you reply, your thumb tracing her cheek lightly. "For tonight. For… all of it. I’ll never forget it."

Her lips curve into a sleepy smile, and she closes her eyes again, nuzzling into the pillow. "You don’t have to thank me," she whispers, her words fading as she drifts off. "You deserved it."

As you climb into bed beside her, the weight of the night finally settles over you. The events replay vividly in your mind, and you can’t help but smile as you watch her sleep. It’s a memory the two of you will treasure forever.

[killakalx]

17+ content, blank blogs dnf

threesome (bruce x reader x selina), sex toys, overstim, begging, very brief double penetration. first time writing for both of them so pls give me grace

they’re no good together. no, too good together. too good at breaking you, reverting you to a wet and squirming mess at his mercy while she holds you in faux comfort.

“bruce,” you cry to him, legs trembling and cunt twitching around the silicon he’s stuffed inside you over and over, too many times to even count. a little vibrator buzzes at your clit again and you sob, thighs snapping together as salty tears bubble under your lashes. “bruce- I can’t, ‘m done, please…”

his eyelids hang low and large hands grip the underside of your thighs, giving what you can only assume is a glare of impatience. “you’re not done,” he corrects, a light slap landing on your swollen clit that has you flinching open. god, he’s insane- you’re leaking around the thing, lips quivering and clawing at sheets, begging for mercy, yet he’s got the nerve to tell you you’re not done.

he’s mean, you realize, and only one arm is needed to leave you vulnerable while the other force’s the thick toy deeper into your cunt. his tongue rolls along his lips, almost in concentration as he stares you down; no indications of his own arousal are clear, but his enthusiasm for abusing your sore and puffy pussy speak volumes.

“I know you can give me another one,” bruce states in a matter-of-fact tone, brows furrowed further when you still attempt pushing him away. “and I know you want to.” the hint of irritation in his voice alludes to dangerous outcomes- hold out on him any longer and he’ll make sure this doesn’t get better for you. he reads you inside and out without missing even one line. bruce knows what makes you tick- what makes you cry, beg, even demand more. he’s almost insulted that you’d even try to withstand his ministrations, and the vibe against your sensitive nerves kicks up a notch.

“be nice, brucie,” selina chimes in with a little tut, pretty and nimble hands tracing your collarbone and jawline. the delicate scratch of her nails send shivers up your spine and you whine at the faux sympathy. “we’re just prepping her, remember? save the brooding act for later.” shit, just prepping?

“oh my god,” you gasp, not even a second before that coil of overwhelming tension breaks, clinging desperately to selina’s arm as your body convulses. you hold onto her as if she’s your final thread, the only thing stopping you from passing out, and the sentiment has her smirking. “fuck, selina, make him… please- just make him…” the man torturing your cunt exchanges a sly look to his counterpart, a low groan from the depths of the throat prompting you to look down.

“aw, make him what? make him keep going?”

she’s evil.

they’re both evil.

“just greedy,” selina coos, only now choosing to ignore your more elaborate pleas of clarification. your mouth hangs open with drool near the corners, and you’ve seemingly resorted to the gods above to grant you mercy- then her thumb drags down your lip and rests on your tongue. it quiets you down as she shushes you, gaze landing back on hers. “greedy, isn’t she…”

“since you want me to be so nice,” bruce hums as the head of his cock prods at your pussy, not even bothering to move either of the toys; fuck, you feel like you’ll die from how much he stretches you out. “i’ll give her what she wants so bad.” ❧

[confessioncassette]

Alastor breeding kink + degradation, praise and dubcon when he realizes hes jealous of other people flirting with you :)

oh nonie- this is hot. It might come off heavy dubcon/slight noncon. I hope you like 🤍 thank you for the request!

𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮 - 𝐀𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝟏𝟖+. 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭.

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : 𝐀𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮.

𝐭𝐰 : 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐲 𝐝𝐮𝐛𝐜𝐨𝐧, 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐧 (𝐀𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬), 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤, 𝐝𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞, 𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 : 𝟏.𝟕𝐤

Alastor usually carries himself exceptionally well. 

He has much pride in who he is. His sophistication, politeness, aloofness... No matter the situation, he handles himself with grace- and always with a smile. He’d never let anyone see what’s behind the mask of that cheshire grin. 

There aren’t many things that set the radio demon off. He’s a refined man. A patient and observing man. He plans to strike at the best moment and always relishes in the victory. 

These are the traits that make him who he is, and the reason why he’s become so powerful.

Until you. 

It’s an easy job hosting this hotel until you walked through that door and asked to check in. 

It was curiosity at first for him. He had been intrigued of your story, your desire for redemption. He’d watch you make friends with everyone at the hotel. Your giggles would ring like the sweetest bell throughout the halls. He’d play you music as you danced, would watch you closely during the exercises Charlie put you through. You are always full of enthusiasm - and it made him sick. That sweet smile you’d flash at him made him uneasy. You naive little creature. You beautiful little thing.

He loathes it. 

This feeling was foreign to him. He had sworn that he didn’t have the capacity to have such attachments. 

Your voice was music to his ears. Your innocent face makes his chest tighten. Your body looked so fragile, to him, that it forces a primal instinct to protect you. 

“Lucifer!” You cry out, extending your arms to catch the king of hell into a tight hug. Lucifer was more than happy to pay a visit to the hotel, and by the looks of it, was very excited to see you. He takes you in his embrace and spins you around. 

The two of you chat as Alastor observes carefully. He can't help but feel annoyed, his ears twitch slightly at the sight. 

Lucifer's hand comes down to rest on your shoulder as you laugh at his joke. Alastor’s eyes narrow. You look entirely engaged in this conversation as does the king of hell. Anger bubbles in the radio demon's stomach. 

Lucifer putting his hand on you without permission makes him feel… unhinged, to say the least. His lips snarl as he watches from a distance. 

Lucifer’s eyes rake over your body. His smile is soft as he speaks, the hand on your shoulder now slides down your arm. 

Enough. He’d had enough. 

“I’d hate to interrupt this reunion, I’m sure it’s been a while since you two have caught up,” Alastor takes strong strides to the two of you, his teeth grinding as he holds his smile. “But I’m afraid I need this little one to help me with something.” 

Lucifer pauses what he was saying and looks between the two of you. “Alastor, good to see you too!” He jokes, “quite out of character for you to just barge into a conversation. I thought you were more polite than that.” Lucifer's face is deadpan, his eyes shine with annoyance. 

Alastors eye twitches, but he holds a tight smile. “I’m sure you’d understand that this little darling has work to do. She has no time for… distractions, right now. Maybe another time?” He cocks his head to the side, his eyes narrowing down to Lucifer.

Before Lucifer could respond, Alastor grips your arm tightly and drags you up the stairs. 

“Al..? What’s going on? What’s the rush?” Your eyes gaze up at him the best you can as he stomps through the halls painfully gripping your arm. 

Finding a closet, he swings the door open and shoves you inside. 

“I never took you as being an attention whore.” The radio demon spits at you. You cower backwards, shocked at his behavior. Sweet Alastor, always ready to lend a hand and made you laugh… is now cornering you in a broom closet. His eyes blown wide and his presence - off kilter. 

Possession flooded Alastors head in a haze. 

“You want attention so badly?” 

He stalks up to you, his body towering over yours. You shake your head, “Alastor, I don’t-”

“Do you even know what I do to protect you? I give you every ounce of my undivided attention, is it not enough?” His lips curl in a snarl, showing you his gums. His hand reaches for yours, gripping your wrist tightly. 

“You ungrateful bitch.” He seethes. “Maybe I need to teach you a lesson about not being a greedy whore.” 

He forces your hand to his aching cock. 

“On your knees you little slut.” You oblige, dropping instantly at his words. 

You blink up at him. 

“Do I need to do it for you?” His hand comes to grip the back of your head, his claws dig into your hair. He presses your face roughly against his clothed cock. “Take me out.”

He lets go of his grip, and you rush with shaky hands to free him. His cock pops out of his pants easily. The tip of his cock is flushed and beaded with precum. 

“Say ‘aah!’,” He mocks you, taking his hand to the back of your head again. You open willingly as he shoves his cock deep in your throat. 

“What a good girl!” He coos. “So she can take an order!” You gag with his girth, but he pulls you off his cock. Spit runs down in globs over your chin. 

“Again, you slut. You wanted attention, now you’re getting it.” 

You take his cock at your own pace now, your lips sucking him in hard. Your tongue dances along his shaft and he hums. You take him fully, and begin bobbing your head. 

“Atta girl, you’re doing so well.” He coos as he pets your hair gently. 

His hips meet every bob of your head. His eyes fixated on your lips with each movement. 

“Look at me while my cock is in your mouth.” He commands, a hand gripping your jaw. You flash your eyes up at him. Tears begin to form through your lashes. 

“Ah, that look on your face. You’re so flushed, it’s beautiful.” He pauses and pulls you off his cock. “Now the fun begins, my dear.”

He picks you up swifty, dragging you to your feet and shoves your roughly against the wall. You grimace with pain at his roughness. 

Through thick lashes you look at him, his face hungry but his movements swift as he lifts you and bunches up your dress over your stomach. You wrap your legs around him. His spit covered cock throbbing over your cunt. 

“No time for foreplay, my dear…” He hums as he pulls his hips back and forces his cock into your tight cunt. “I’m going to shape your little cunt to take only my cock, do you understand?” His face is so close, his eyes bore into yours. 

You nod, gasping at the sudden intrusion. You feel yourself stretch over his cock. Your mind clouds over, the feeling of being so full dulls your senses. Your core pings with ecstasy and need, but your cunt stings at the suddenness. It’s a cruel mixture. 

He pulls his hips back just to thrust himself deep again. The movement pushes you harder against the wall. You're stuck here, but it feels so fucking good. 

“See? What a perfect little angel being so good for me.” He coos as one of his arms slide across your back, his hand resting over your shoulder. With this, he pushes your body down onto his cock even more. 

His other arm slides over your leg to keep it in place. His thumb rubs gently over your skin.

“Such a sweet darling, taking my cock so well. Is this the attention you wanted? I can give you this everyday..” He whispers as he nibbles your earlobe.

You moan out his name like a mantra with each thrust. His presence completely engulfs you. You can’t think of anything but him, him, him…

��I’m going to fucking breed you.” He snarls. “Everyone will smell my scent on you. Everyone will know you belong to me.” His teeth sink into your neck as he humps into you. His body towers over yours. His cock slides so easily in and out of your cunt with your slick. Your juices slide down his shaft, making a gooey mess at the base of his cock. 

Your cunt flutters and clenches around him. Your orgasm takes you by surprise. Your body shakes as you ride out your high over his cock. Your mind is a mess, everything is glazed over and all you can smell is him. 

“Oh, my sweet darling, you couldn’t wait can you? It’s okay, that’s a lesson for another time.”

Alastor picks up his pace as your body goes limp from your orgasm. He coos into your ear, whispering how beautiful you are, how good you're taking him. How he’ll breed you so deep…

“I can’t wait to see my cum drip out of your pretty little cunt.” His pace is relentless now, fucking you harder on his cock. His hand on your shoulder slides up to grip your hair. 

“Show me that beautiful neck of yours.” His claws pull at your hair, making you expose your neck to him. His tongue laps up your sweat and he groans. 

“Everything about you is so sweet, I’m never letting you go,” he mumbles. 

The sound of skin slapping fills the closet. The clicking of your slick grows faster with his thrusts. 

“Going to fill you so deep..” He grunts with a stutter of his hips. He groans as he releases himself deep within you, and you feel it. Warm liquid bursts inside, filling you up completely. 

You both pant. Your eyelids grow heavy as he still holds you up. 

He places a soft kiss to your cheek and gently brings you back down to the floor as he pulls out. You groan at the emptiness. His hands inspect your tear filled face, then your body. 

“You did so well, my dear. I’m impressed,” He coos, lifting up your dress skirt to watch his cum seep out of your hole. 

His finger surprises you as it gently slides over your clit to your hole. His fingers curl as he shoves his cum back up inside you. 

He continues this as his eyes meet yours.

“No one touches you, you understand, my dear? You are mine.”

[rafecameronssl4t]

What's ours || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Summary: canon fic based off this scene in s4 ep6!!!!

Warnings: angst!!!

Word count: 2, 458

A/n: HAD to write abt this scene

MASTERLIST

divider by @h-aewo

"Rafey?" your voice rings out as you step out of the shared bedroom, the soft sound of your bare feet padding against the wooden floor. "'M out here on the porch," his voice calls back, low and calm, carrying just a hint of warmth. A smile spreads across your lips as you pick up your pace, excitement bubbling in your chest. Sliding the glass door, you step onto the porch, the late afternoon sunlight casting a golden glow across everything it touches.

There he is, lounging casually on the couch, his polo clinging to his broad shoulders and biceps in a way that makes your stomach flutter. "Hey, baby," Rafe greets, his smile wide and genuine, the kind that always has a way of making you feel like the most important person in the room. "Hey," you murmur, your eyes locking with his. You pause for a moment, giving him the chance to drink in the sight of you.

With a playful glint in your eye, you do a small twirl, letting the flow of your new dress spin out around you, the fabric catching the evening light. You watch Rafe’s reaction carefully, feeling a thrill at how his gaze moves down your figure. "What do you think?" You ask, the words soft but full of a quiet confidence. "It looks good," Rafe says after a beat, his eyes lingering on you for a fraction longer than you expect.

There’s a lazy grin tugging at the corners of his lips, and when he leans back against the cushions of the couch, his eyes never leave you. "You look good," he adds, his voice deeper now, like the words are heavy with more than just praise. You beam at his words, crossing the porch to close the distance between you. "Where you going lookin’ all pretty?" he teases, spreading his legs slightly as he pats his thighs, his grin turning sly.

The gesture is an open invitation, and you happily accept, settling onto his lap. Your arm slides naturally around his shoulders, and his hands find their place on your knee, the warmth of his touch grounding you. "Just shopping with the girls," you explain, playing with the collar of his shirt absentmindedly. "There's this new boutique that just opened up—" You’re cut off by the sound of the front door creaking open and a hesitant voice calling out, "Hello?"

Your brows furrow as you glance at Rafe. "Were you expecting someone?" you ask, your voice laced with curiosity. Rafe exhales a sharp breath, "Yeah," he admits nonchalantly. "Sarah." Your surprise is instant, and your voice reflects it. "Sarah? She agreed to meet up with you?" He chuckles, the sound warm and a little cynical. "Yeah, well… desperate times call for desperate measures, I guess." Before you can process his words, Sarah’s footsteps sound on the porch, slow but deliberate.

Your eyes shift to the doorway, and soon enough, her figure appears. She glances at you briefly as you move to sit beside Rafe, her gaze cool but not unfriendly, before turning her attention to Rafe. "Hey," he greets her with exaggerated enthusiasm, clapping his hands together with theatrical flair. "Thanks for showing up. Good work." Sarah doesn’t miss a beat, rolling her eyes as if she’s heard this act too many times. "Please, stop," she says flatly.

Rafe grins even wider, running a hand through his buzzed hair, clearly enjoying the reaction. You shift slightly, about to stand to give them space, but Rafe’s hand tightens gently on your waist, silently urging you to stay. "I don’t want to argue, Rafe," Sarah sighs, crossing her arms as she looks at him. Her tone is exasperated, but there’s something softer beneath it. "We already have enough people against us."

An awkward silence settles over the porch, the only sound being the occasional chirping of birds in the trees. The air grows heavy with the weight of unspoken things, a tension that seems to hum between them. You clear your throat, trying to ease the tension. "Can I get you something to drink? Iced tea, maybe?" you offer, your voice polite, even as your eyes flicker between Sarah and Rafe, sensing the undercurrent of frustration.

Sarah’s eyes meet yours, her gaze flicking over the space with an almost detached interest before she shakes her head. "No, thanks. I don’t plan on staying long." You nod, the smile on your lips soft but understanding. There’s something about the way she holds herself—tired, wary—that makes you feel a strange sense of empathy. It’s clear she’s not here for pleasantries.

"Kiara mentioned…" Sarah starts, her voice uncertain as she scans the porch, her eyes flitting from the furniture to the surroundings, clearly uncomfortable. "That you might be able to help." She directs the latter half of her sentence at Rafe, her gaze lingering on him, but there’s a hesitation in her tone, a quiet pleading buried beneath the words. Rafe pulls at the sleeve of his polo, his fingers tugging at the fabric.

He doesn’t look up immediately but instead turns his attention to the ground in front of him, gathering his thoughts. "Uh, no. No, not with the land stuff. You guys are on your own with that," he responds firmly, his gaze briefly flicking up to meet Sarah's. There's an almost apologetic edge to his words, but it's clear that he's drawing a hard line in the sand. Sarah’s expression falls, disappointment flashing across her face, her shoulders sagging slightly as if the weight of unspoken words is pulling her down.

"Right," she mutters softly, the edge of frustration in her voice barely concealed. She pauses, taking a breath before looking back at Rafe. "Sorry," Rafe adds, his voice quieter, almost regretful, but the frustration is still evident. "But…" He hesitates, his gaze dropping to the papers scattered across the table before him, the flicker of something heavier passing through his eyes.

"But there's… there's something else I wanted to talk to you about," he says, his tone shifting. It’s not just business now—there’s a vulnerability that creeps in, something raw beneath the surface. You watch him, your eyes tracing the subtle movements of his hand as he runs his fingers across his lips, trying to gather the right words. You stay silent, your own gaze fixed on his profile, your heart picking up pace as you sense the shift in the air.

This is no longer just a casual conversation—it feels more like a breaking point, something much deeper. "So when…" Rafe starts, his voice faltering slightly, the words coming out with an almost painful deliberation. He takes a moment, his eyes lingering on the papers again, then he looks down at your left hand resting on his shoulder, his gaze momentarily softening when it lands on the ring you wear—the one his mother gave him.

"Dad died," he finally says, the words coming out like a slow exhale, as if speaking them is harder than he’d like to admit. You feel the change in his tone immediately, the sadness in his voice gripping you, and you instinctively start rubbing gentle circles on his shoulder with your thumb, your mind connecting the dots, knowing how touchy the subject of Ward’s death always is for Rafe.

"...the first time," Rafe adds, his voice quiet, as though even acknowledging that death was not the final one is too painful to process fully. "um, he said I got a quarter of what he had," Rafe continues, his voice distant now, lost in the past as he leans forward, flicking through the papers with a focus that feels almost obsessive. "Yeah, he said I got a quarter too," Sarah chimes in, nodding slowly.

There’s something tired in her voice, a recognition of the weight of their father’s legacy that neither of them ever truly asked for. "But you didn’t get it, did you?" Rafe’s words are sharp, his gaze intense as it locks onto Sarah. There’s a challenge in his eyes, a quiet demand for the truth. Sarah hesitates for a moment, the silence stretching longer than it should. You can see her thinking, weighing her words carefully before answering.

"No," Sarah says finally, her voice quiet but firm. "Yeah, well, good luck trying to get that from Rose's greedy paws," Rafe scoffs, the bitterness dripping from his words. "She's got that money locked down tight." Sarah’s brows knit together, "well, I keep trying to call," she retorts, her tone sharp. "She won’t even let me talk to Wheezie." She crosses her arms, her gaze flickering away as if saying it out loud makes the situation even more real.

Rafe leans forward, his elbows digging into his knees as his expression hardens. "Yes, yes, that’s what I’m saying," he says, his voice rising slightly. He locks eyes with Sarah, a fiery determination in his blue gaze. "We’re a family, and I’m not—" He cuts himself off, inhaling deeply as he shakes his head. "I’m not even allowed to talk to my own sister? That’s not fair, Sarah. You know that."

Sarah’s jaw tightens, and she slowly nods, her lips pressed together as she looks down. "And then Rose," Rafe continues, his arm gesturing wide as his frustration boils over. "She just gets to keep all that gold for herself? What gives her the right? That’s not what Dad intended." His fist slams into the wooden coffee table with a resounding thud, causing Sarah to flinch in her seat. The tension spikes in the air, and you instinctively place your hand on his shoulder, your touch firm yet gentle, hoping to ground him.

"That’s not what Dad wanted," Rafe repeats, his voice cracking slightly as he pounds the table again. Sarah visibly recoils this time, her discomfort palpable. "And it pisses me off!" Rafe’s voice rises, his anger spilling out unchecked. But before his hand can connect with the table a third time, you reach forward and grab it, your fingers curling around his. "Rafe," you say softly, your voice calm but firm. His eyes dart to you, and for a moment, the fire in them dims.

He exhales sharply, leaning back slightly as he glances at Sarah, who keeps her gaze down, avoiding his. "That’s our money, okay?" Rafe insists, his tone quieter but still edged with frustration. Sarah lets out a shaky exhale, her hands fidgeting in her lap as Rafe sighs heavily, running a hand over his buzzed hair. The silence stretches, heavy and uncomfortable, until you place your palm on Rafe’s thigh, your thumb brushing soothingly against the fabric of his shorts.

He glances at you, and you offer him a small, reassuring smile. He manages a faint one in return before looking back at Sarah. "I don’t know about you, but I really—I need that money," Rafe admits, his voice tinged with vulnerability. Sarah’s gaze snaps to him, her expression hardening. "And what about the gold cross you stole?" she counters, her tone sharp and accusatory.

"It was gold-plated," Rafe shoots back with a shrug, rubbing his eyes as if the conversation is draining him. "It was a good score. It’s not endless. It’s not like the Merchant gold, so..." His voice trails off, exhaustion creeping in. "I’m so sorry to hear that," Sarah says, her words laced with sarcasm. Rafe exhales through his nose, standing abruptly, "I don't know. I was just thinking, um." Both you and Sarah track his movements as he walks to the porch railing, gripping it tightly before turning to face her.

"You know, you and me," he starts, gesturing between them, "we try to get Wheezie back." Sarah’s eyes narrow in disbelief. "How?" she asks, her voice flat, as if she’s waiting for him to say something ridiculous. "I don’t know, but..." Rafe admits, pacing back to the table. He moves the glass in front of him before perching on the edge, leaning closer to Sarah. His proximity makes her shift uncomfortably, but she doesn’t move away.

"And then we try to get the money back," Rafe continues, his voice steady and resolute. You can see the determination etched into his features, the way his jaw sets and his eyes gleam with a fervour you know all too well. He pauses, his gaze fixed on Sarah. "Which is why we need to work together," he says, his tone almost pleading now. "Just like Dad taught us. We align our interests." Sarah’s lips press into a thin line, her eyes fixed on the table as Rafe quietly watches.

"I just thought, you and me," Rafe begins again, his voice softer. "We can get back what’s ours." There’s a beat of silence, the weight of his words hanging between them. Sarah bites her lip, her gaze darting to Rafe, then away again. "Look, I’m trying here—" Rafe says, but Sarah cuts him off, rising to her feet abruptly. "No," she says firmly, shaking her head. "I’m sorry."

She turns and strides off the deck, the sound of the front door slamming shut echoing behind her. You stand, moving to where Rafe is still perched on the table, his shoulders hunched and his head bowed. Your hands find his shoulders, squeezing gently as he lets out a frustrated groan. "Can’t she see that I’m trying?" he mutters, his voice laced with annoyance. "Like seriously—" "Shh," you murmur, your thumbs massaging the tense muscles in his shoulders.

"I know, baby. I know you’re trying." You move to stand in front of him, slotting yourself between his legs as he rests his forehead against your stomach. Your manicured fingers run through his buzzed hair, the rhythmic motion calming him as he exhales deeply. "When will she realise that we’re on her side here?" he whispers, his voice tinged with despair.

"You just have to give her time," you reply softly, your fingers stilling for a moment. "She wants to trust you, but she can’t just yet, Rafe." He tilts his head to look up at you, his blue eyes glassy. "I’ve already lost Dad," he says quietly, his voice cracking. "I don’t want to lose her—I don’t want our family to fall apart." Your heart clenches at the raw vulnerability in his tone. You cradle his face gently, your thumbs brushing against his cheekbones as you hold his gaze.

"Listen to me, Rafe," you say, your voice steady and full of conviction. "You won’t lose Sarah, and your family won’t fall apart." His lips press into a thin line, his eyes searching yours for reassurance. "How can you be so sure?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. "I just know," you reply softly, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead. "Because I believe in you."