#and it’s IMPOSSIBLE to sleep in our car

[icanimagine08]

A Morning in Seoul

Summary: Jeonghan and reader both have a day off - what better way to spend it lounging around all day together?!

Warnings: None! Just fluff!

Word Count: 1345

Here is another Jeonghan fic!! I'm going to be on holiday for a couple of days so won't upload for a while! as always, feel free to send in any requests! Hope you're all having a lovely build up to Christmas! :)

It was a rare thing, this quiet morning in Seoul. The city was waking up, the streets outside still quiet, with only the occasional hum of distant traffic or a car honking in the distance. But inside the soft, dimly lit apartment, everything felt suspended in time, just for the two of you. 

Yoon Jeonghan lay beside you, his arms wrapped lazily around your waist as the faint morning light filtered through the curtains. The comfort of his presence was something you’d never quite grown used to, not even after five years together. In a world that always seemed to rush forward, moments like these – simple, calm, and uninterrupted – felt like a little oasis. 

His breathing was steady, warm against your skin. The rhythm of his chest rising and falling was comforting. You didn’t want to move. Not yet. 

You shifted slightly, just enough to tuck your head into the crook of his neck, breathing in the familiar scent of his skin, a mixture of his cologne and the faint trace of his shampoo. His hand, which had been resting on your side, slid gently up to brush through your hair, the motion slow and tender, as though he wasn’t quite ready to let go of the stillness either.

You closed your eyes for a moment, letting the peace of the moment settle over you. For a few minutes, the world outside didn’t exist – just the warmth of Jeonghan’s body next to yours, the soft rustle of blankets, and the quiet murmurs of contentment that filled the space between you both.

"I can’t believe we’re both off today," Jeonghan murmured, his voice low, still heavy with sleep but also laced with that signature warmth of his. He pulled you closer, making sure your bodies were pressed together. 

You smiled, your lips brushing against his collarbone. "I know. It’s been forever since we had a day like this."

He chuckled softly, a sound that always made your heart flutter. "I swear, you always say that. But it’s true. I forget how nice it is to just… be with you, you know?"

You nodded, looking up at him. His face was soft and unguarded, the morning light casting gentle shadows across his features. Even after all these years, there were still moments when you would find yourself gazing at him, thinking that he was more beautiful than you’d remembered. 

“Yeah,” you whispered, “I forget sometimes too. It’s just... the two of us.”

Jeonghan's smile deepened, and he leaned down to plant a soft kiss on your forehead. His lips lingered there for a moment, before he pulled back slightly, his eyes twinkling with mischief. 

"Are you saying you could live without my company?" he teased, giving you a playful nudge.

You snorted, rolling your eyes. "Of course not. You’re impossible to live without, Jeonghan."

He laughed at that, his entire face lighting up with the joy that he so effortlessly exuded. The sound of his laugh, genuine and carefree, always made your heart ache with affection. 

“I’m glad to hear that.” He rested his forehead against yours, his fingers gently tracing circles on your arm. “I’ve missed this… us just being together without anyone else demanding our attention.”

It had been a while since you’d had a proper day off together. Between his packed schedule as a member of SEVENTEEN, the countless rehearsals, recordings, and the never-ending cycle of concerts and events, there was rarely any time just for the two of you. But this morning, here, in this little corner of Seoul, you had all the time in the world. 

"Do you want to just stay here today?" you asked quietly, your fingers playing with the hem of his shirt, feeling the soft fabric under your fingertips.

"Why would I want to leave when I have you right here?" he responded, his voice thick with affection. He leaned down again, this time pressing his lips gently to yours. The kiss was slow at first, lingering as though neither of you wanted to pull away. When you finally did, your lips tingled from the closeness. 

“Stay in bed all day?” you asked, your voice teasing now. 

He chuckled softly. "Well, that sounds pretty perfect to me. But if you’re set on being productive, I guess I could find something to do… like maybe make us breakfast?"

You grinned, running your hand down the back of his neck, pulling him closer again. “You don’t need to do that. We could just stay in bed and order something.”

He looked at you with a mock expression of offense. “Are you saying I can’t cook?”

You raised an eyebrow, pretending to consider it. “I’ve never seen you cook.”

He grinned, nudging you with his elbow. “You’re missing out. But maybe you’re right, a lazy breakfast in bed does sound good.”

The thought of a cozy breakfast together, with the possibility of the two of you staying wrapped in your little bubble for a while longer, made your heart warm. You let yourself sink back into his embrace, savoring the comfort of his arms. 

"Okay, okay," Jeonghan continued after a beat, his hand tracing the side of your face. "But only if you promise me one thing."

“What's that?” you asked, looking up at him curiously. 

“That after breakfast, we don’t leave this bed for the rest of the day. We can just watch movies, or talk, or do nothing at all."

You chuckled, nodding. "Deal."

Jeonghan smiled, his eyes soft as he leaned in to kiss you once more. The kiss was sweet, languid, without any rush – just an expression of how much he adored you. You could feel the smile tugging at the corners of your lips even as you kissed him, and when you finally pulled back, your breath was shallow, as though the closeness between you both had stolen it. 

"Okay," you murmured, "I think we should definitely stay here then."

He laughed softly, pulling the covers up over both of you and tucking you into his side. "Good. Because I’m not letting you go today."

As you both lay there, with the peaceful quiet of the morning surrounding you, there was a sense of comfort that settled between you both. The chaos of Jeonghan's world – the rehearsals, the fans, the busy schedules – seemed so far away now. Here, in this little apartment, it was just you two, sharing the simple joy of each other’s company.

You snuggled closer to him, letting your body relax against his. His fingers moved to your hair again, brushing it away from your face, before his lips pressed gently against the top of your head.

"How did I get so lucky to have you here with me?" Jeonghan asked softly, his voice full of affection and sincerity.

You smiled, your hand resting against his chest. "I should be the one asking that. But I think we’re both lucky."

He hummed contentedly, closing his eyes. "Maybe we should never leave this apartment," he whispered, half-seriously. "Just you and me, all the time."

"I wouldn’t mind that," you replied, your heart swelling at the thought. "But we both have lives outside of here. So, for now, we can just enjoy this morning together."

Jeonghan nodded, his arms tightening around you, pulling you closer as though he could keep you in this bubble forever. And for that moment, you believed he might. 

In that quiet, perfect morning, nothing else mattered. It was just you, him, and the peaceful serenity of a world that, for once, could wait.

---

The minutes ticked by slowly, and eventually, the faint aroma of coffee wafted into the room. Jeonghan, as promised, had gotten up to make breakfast. But as you lay there, wrapped in the warmth of the blankets and his presence, you couldn’t bring yourself to get out of bed just yet.

[skyward-floored]

Oh goodie today is gonna be rough

[plushie-lovey]

I wish I could take my plushies with me to cool places and take cute pictures of them there. Sadly I don't go out often, and on the very rare occasions when I go, its with friends who'd probably think I'm weird for toting around a plushie to [insert activity here]

[inbabylontheywept]

by tradition, the first day of the camp was spent pranking the group next to us. our prank was ziptying the zippers on their sleeping bags together. we figured one of them would sleep with a knife, because we all slept with knives, because we were dangerous maniacs and half the danger of a dangerous maniac is that they tend to think that they are Actually Normal. so. obviously that didn't pan out, and instead they got stuck in their sleeping bags for like half an hour and because their scoutmaster slept in their car and couldn't hear them yelling, they actually only got out when one of them went full caged animal and chewed through the plastic. which meant they had time to make it to the axe throwing station, but they did miss breakfast.

the scale of our victory was impossible to understate. it was an epic prank. unrivaled. the best in years. we knew they were going to retaliate, and we both feared and craved it. maybe i'm still a maniac, but that feels like a common thing, right? do well adjusted people that are not maniacs crave Judgement?

(serious answers only please, from people who would never spoon a knife.)

anyway, the next day we got back to our camp, and the neighors had skipped dinner to just come back and fill all our tents with pinecones. which was like, a decent prank, i guess, but it probably took them an hour to fill all the tents up, and it took us like 15 minutes to tip the tents out, and as a return volley to the ziptie prank it was incredibly underwhelming. we felt a little cheated.

so our scouting group held a council, and we agreed, unanimously, that our prank was 100% better and theirs sucked and that there would be no escalating tensions because we were the clear victors. they'd had their chance to retaliate, and they failed, and so the war was over. that was it.

we agreed on this. we swore. but madness is a relative thing, and in our group of maniacs, we still had J. i have many, many J stories. too many. i biked up to school with him from 4th grade to 8th, and i saw him get hit by cars thrice. he'd just swerve into the road sometimes. one time on a rainy day in 4th grade, a car splashed me, and before i could even consider my response J yelled I GOT THIS and then he blitzed off after the car. i didn't see him the rest of the day. i was so anxious i barely slept that night. i saw him the next morning and he told me that he'd chased the car until it got to a gated community and then he'd climbed over the fence and looked in peoples garages until he found the one with the car, and then he'd ripped the hood ornament off and broke their window. then he gave me a hood ornament to a different brand of car from the one that splashed me and i didnt tell him because i didnt want him missing more school. i want you to mentally adjust your mental model of the things a 9 year old is capable of doing to include chasing a car for five miles, hopping a fence, breaking into a garage, and vandalizing a randos car.

and that's just the tip of my J stories iceberg.

the point of all this is just to say that J was so crazy that he made us knife spooners look like accountanting enthusiasts.

so we agreed the war was done, and we shook on it, and then J, in the name of friendship, in the name of honor, in the name of avenging our pinecone filled tents, snuck over to their camp that evening and fornicated with a watermelon that they'd been saving in their cooler.

i want to emphasize, again, that this was not the consensus of the group. that is not a prank. like i know it seems like we dont know what pranks are because of the whole ziptie thing, but even we knew that fucking someones food is not a prank, it is a crime, and a sin, the kind of weapon that had only been ethically used once in history by Horus in his battle against Set and none of us dumb assholes had owl heads.

so.

the next day went pretty well. we threw some more axes again, which is a valuable and important skill for children to learn i guess, and we learned how to tie knots, which is a skill that turned out to be far sexier than i ever expected, and i learned how to light fires with a magnifying glass, which was great. i'm looking back at this, and i am actually just now beginning to realize that the clear and obvious point of scouting is turning child sociopaths into apex predators.

and then the day ended, and we went back to our camps, except for our leaders, who had a sort of Scout Leader Meeting they were going to have for a few hours at least. it was built into the camp, that day was supposed to be our day to chill as a group, and make peach cobbler, and just be buddies.

except, as it turned out, our neighboring group's alternative to making peach cobbler was eating their watermelon. so at some point they opened their watermelon, and woo boy. oh man. you think catholics hated seedless watermelons? you should see how much mormons hate seeded ones.

so we were chilling by the fire, and then we heard screaming from the camp over, but we didn't pay much mind to that because there are many reasonable explanations for a group of 10ish children to scream simulanteoulsy, such as wasps, which are abundant in arizona, and then the screaming got closer, which did not bother us because there were many reasons for a group 10ish children to scream and run towards us, for example, wasps, which are abundant in arizona, and then we noticed they had large sticks on them, which we figured were perhaps being used to drive away the wasps, which are abundant in arizona, and then they arrived and they started beating the shit out of us, abundantly, in arizona.

so we ran into the woods.

now, at this point, we had no idea what was up. we knew that the camp next to us was out for blood, which was crazy, because we'd actually locked them in fartproof bags for 30 minutes and they'd barely done anything back, and were trying to figure out what could possibly have happened that could drive them to Terrible Violence when we realized that J was cackling like a witch that had learned how to order children off of ebay.

so we politely asked J what the hell he had done, and he politely explained that had "done" their watermelon, and we politely beat him with large sticks because life is nothing but endless cycles of violence.

we were still being chased by the other camp btw. so it was them, chasing us, chasing J, and then they got tired and went back to their camp, and we chased J a little longer because we were mad we'd all been walloped with sticks, and J did not care because he was a supernatural entity whose only weaknesses were Needles and Fire, and then we got tired and went back and J kept running, and we just kind of figured he would come back eventually.

he did not.

we went back to our tents, and we waited, and J did not come back. we stayed up all night, peering into the forest, worrying. our leader came back, and we did our best to hide our battlewounds, and he either genuinely did not notice or simply accepted this as part of Boyhood. then he went to bed, and we waited, and waited, and waited. And Waited. and did not sleep.

eventually, we convened again, and we agreed that if J was not back by after breakfast, we would have to tell the scoutleader about what exactly had transpired. and we really did not want to do that, because it would have meant that everyone would have gotten in a very large amount of trouble.

morning came around, and J still was not back. we went to breakfast, and we ate very, very slowly. we were afraid the other camp was going to continue their war with us, but they actually looked fairly frightened. one of them actually came to us and asked for a truce, and we agreed because we truly felt bad for them. like, yes, they did beat us with sticks, but J fucked their watermelon. we werent complicit in the watermelonfuckening but they didnt know that, and it was definitely the kind of crime that left one outside the bounds of the social contract.

and then when we could eat no more bits, when breakfast was almost done, right when i was getting pushed to go and tell the scoutleader that we needed to find J, he arrived. he was sleep deprived, and noticeably scraped and bloody, and tied to his belt was a blood squirrel tail.

and i asked him, J, where did you get that? and he said, don't worry man, it was already dead, which did not answer by question and gave me several more.

the camp ended that day, and the other groups avoided us like the plague, and it was not until some weeks later that we were able to piece together what happened.

J, in his sojourn through the forest, managed to find (or, possibly, make) a dead squirrel. he then cut off the tail to keep on his belt, because he was a weird little freak like that. he also took the dead squirrel, and he skinned it, then he tied it to a little crucifix made of wood, and he left it in the other scouting group's camp. which is why they were so scared of us.

it was such an unhinged thing to do it actually sobered us up for a while. scouting became a scary thing for us. we'd found something dark and primal there, in the place where no adult could see, and our appreciation of J as a wild ride kind of changed into seeing him as something truly dangerous. we had a sense wherever he went, something terrible would follow, and the only way to escape it was to not be there when it arrived. and so piece by piece, the scout group dissolved. it wasnt until he moved out of that ward that the rest of us started daring to go back to scouts.

and for the final epilogue of the tale:

i have a little brother who was friends with a younger cousin of J's, and the two would go to parties together in highschool. and sometimes J, who was in his early 20's at that point, would show up at the parties, and it was unsettling in such a way that it just became a known risk at parties with the cousin. and at one party, they were playing truth or dare, and J wasn't even in the room, but someone asked him the Truth of how he always knew how to find the cousin, and J said the cousin's mom had mentioned she was worried about him and the parties so he'd put a tracker in his car. and when he saw that the cousin was out of the house on weekends, he'd made a visit by, just to make sure he was safe.

then he left. and every single person at that party went over that poor kid's car. they searched the wheel-wells, checked underneath it, the works, until they found the tracker. then because they were clever, they didnt break it, or throw it away, or anything that would've given away what they'd done. they just gave the tracker to the cousin, who put it in his glovebox. and on schooldays, he'd take it with him, so J could see him in the parking lot. and on weekends, he could leave it in the garage, so he could go to parties with out Hell coming with him. because everyone that met J - every single person - knew that the only way to be safe from him was to be far, far away.

[wanders-in-wonderland]

Don't Move

*Loosely inspired by the new Netflix movie Don’t Move but I haven’t actually watched it and only saw clips and read the synopsis.

I never should have parked so far from the grocery store. I’d stopped to grab a few items for dinner on my way home from work and parked in the last row, wanting to give myself an opportunity to walk a little extra to the store and stretch my legs after sitting at a computer desk all day, especially since today was an uncharacteristically sunny fall day. When I finish shopping and come back out to my car, I vaguely take note of another car parked next to me.

Weird, considering half the lot was empty but who am I to judge, I’m not the parking police. I roll my cart to my car, unload my shopping bags, and return the cart before rounding my car to get in and leave. That’s when I realize that the car next to me parked absurdly close to mine.

I silently judge the distance and decide that maybe I can squeeze myself into my driver side door without dinging his door or mine so I step in the space between the two vehicles. As soon as I pull open my door, I can tell that my plan won’t work. I huff out a little laugh and decide to just crawl in through the passenger side when I hear the car door slam from behind.

“Sorry!” An embarrassed sounding male voice sounds. “I totally misjudged the distance and parked a little too close.”

I turn to see a tall man stride around what I assume is his car that he was sitting in, coming towards me. I smile back at him, “No worries, it happens to the best of us. I can just crawl in through the other side.”

His eyes crinkle in a kind smile and he raises one hand to run through his hair bashfully. I realize that he’s really attractive, the kind of boy-next-door attractive that makes you feel at ease. He’s closed the distance between us and stands near the back bumper of both our cars, his frame filling the space and effectively trapping me in.

“No, don’t, I can move my car, just give me a sec,” he says, giving a wry chuckle. I glance down at his other hand and see him holding an umbrella. I raise an eyebrow, gesturing towards it with my chin, “Expecting rain?”

He looks down as if he’s surprised to see the umbrella in his hand, “Oh! This! Well, you can never be too prepared, right?” He shrugs lightly and takes another step into my space.

“Plus, it’s really useful for times like this,” he says before clicking a button on the handle that makes the tip light up with electricity. His umbrella is a stun gun in disguise. Before I can react, he jabs it into my side and I let out a strangled yelp as sharp pain floods my body and I crumple.

He catches me and the last thing I see before my vision goes black is his handsome face twisted in a dark, menacing smile.

—

The rhythmic jostling of a car wakes me up and I found myself laid out across the backseat of a car with my arms tied behind my back and my legs tied together at my ankles. I let out a soft whine, my body aching as I slowly clear my head.

My eyes dart around the car and I see him driving. He tilts the rearview mirror down so we can see each other and he flashes me a charming smile.

“Good morning. Sleep well?” His voice is teasing, as if we were lovers, waking up in bed together and not a deranged kidnapper and his prey.

“What the fuck? Let me go!” I thrash against my restraints but he’s also strapped me into the seatbelts and made it impossible for me to get free.

He smiles, “Don’t worry, we’re almost there.”

I feel the car turn and from my limited view out the windows, I see him turn us from a main road onto a smaller path that seems to lead into the forest. Fear starts to overtake my every emotion.

“Where are you taking me? Are you going to kill me?” I say, my voice cracking.

He laughs in response but doesn’t deign to give me a verbal response. Before I can muster up the courage to ask more, the car comes to a stop and he steps out before opening the door by my feet.

With a strong grip, he hauls me out of the car and I stumble out, legs unsteady and uncoordinated from being bound together. “Please, please, let me go!” I beg him, my heart in my throat.

He grins at me, “Let’s play a game. I’ll give you an opportunity to run, and if you out-run me, I’ll let you go.” I gasp, staring at him, waiting for the catch. He reaches behind me and with a swift motion, unties my arms. He leans down and does the same for my ankles and I stare at him in shock.

“You better run, little bird.” His voice is teasing as he takes a step back from me. I don’t hesitate. I spin and take off.

My breath is harsh and my heartbeat wild as I sprint through the woods, ignoring the branches that scratch at my face and arms. I hear his laugh following me and then his voice shouting after me, “Run, little bird, run as fast as you want but you won’t get far!”

I don’t stop to think, just mindlessly crashing through the woods as fast as I can, trying to put as much distance between us as possible. I’m not sure how far I’m able to get when suddenly, my leg seems to give out from underneath me and I take a tumble.

I gasp, trying my best not to scream as I trip and find myself landing hard on the ground. Pain shoots through my body and I grit my teeth, not wanting to make any more noise in case he can hear me. Adrenaline is still pumping through me as I scramble to push myself back up from the floor. I manage to stand and take a step before my knees buckle again and I drop to my hands and knees.

What the fuck is going on? Why isn’t my body cooperating? I’m frantic, horror filling my blood as I realize something is very wrong. My legs won’t move and I don’t know why. I try to crawl forward but suddenly, my arms give out and I end up sprawled across my front, branches digging into my body painfully.

I can’t escape like this. My brain is begging my body to just move and keep running but nothing is happening. I use an excruciating amount of effort to roll myself from my front to my back so at least I can have a better vantage point but that’s all that I’m able to accomplish before my body completes shuts down. I’m left splayed out on my back, limbs frozen, mind screaming in panic when I hear footsteps approaching.

And then, I hear his voice. “Little bird, did the drugs kick in?”

My heart drops at his words. He drugged me. That was why I couldn’t move. Tears filled my eyes and I blinked rapidly, the only movement I could still produce.

I see him walk into my view through my tears and I hear him chuckle. “Looks like my little bird can’t fly anymore.” He walks up next to me and looks down at me and waves a syringe mockingly.

“A paralytic. Fast-acting and long-lasting. You’re going to be like this for at least several hours,” he says, a maniacal gleam lighting up his eyes. I try to speak and realize that I can’t even do that.

He crouches down next to me and brushes my hair off my face, then trailing a hand down my cheek, collecting a tear. “We are going to have so much fun together, little bird.”

He hefts me up into his arms and carries me through the forest, retracing the path I’d ran down. I realize with a sinking heart that I did not make it far at all and in a few hundred yards, we end up back at the car. My mind is still screaming at my body to move but nothing obeys.

He carries me into a cabin, the intended destination of our car ride, and I stare listlessly at the space around us. We end up in a bedroom with a large bed and I feel another wave of fear pass over me. He’s going to rape me.

He lays me down gently on the bed like I’m some kind of precious cargo. Then he disappears from view and I hear the sound of running water from what I assume is the connected bathroom. He comes back holding a first aid kit and a wet towel. He starts with the scratches on my face, wiping them down before putting some kind of cream over them, his fingers gentle.

He makes a tsk sound at me, “Look at you, little bird. Covered in scratches, I’m going to need to take good care of you, hm?” He smiles down at me and my stomach curdles. My eyes are wide as I stare back at him, silent.

Then he pulls out a pair of scissors and I want to flinch but I can’t. He starts to cut my shirt off my body and I feel dizzy with terror as my clothes start to fall away in strips. I beg my body to move but just like before, there’s nothing in response.

He moves down to my pants, opting to unbutton them and gently pull them off my legs, taking care to maneuver my body around. Tears are streaming down my face, wetting my temples and my hair as I stare up at the ceiling blankly.

I’m naked now, stripped bare, splayed out on the bed. “Fuck, little bird, you’re beautiful,” he says, his voice low. He runs a hand down my cheek, ghosting over my throat and down between the valley of my breasts, over my stomach, and he comes to rest in between my legs. I close my eyes, trying to escape from this horror.

He nudges my legs further apart, revealing my pussy to his hungry gaze and I feel his finger dance across me. The movement is gentle, teasing, and if I could move, it would have made me tense and jerk away. But instead, I lay still, my body unable to do anything except let him take what he wants.

He trails a gentle finger against my clit and the touch makes electricity dance down my spine. He pulls his hand away for a second and I feel his finger press against my mouth. My eyes fly open to meet his. He smiles at me before gently pushing his finger into my mouth. My lips part with no resistance and when he pulls his hand away, a string of saliva follows.

His spit-wet finger goes back to between my legs and he rubs my clit again. My eyes clench shut as an unwanted wave of pleasure washes over me and if I could moan right now, I know that I would be biting it back. His wet finger moves up and down over me and he knows exactly how hard to rub and where to touch. I feel my breath stutter in my chest and I want nothing more than to push him away, to make him stop.

“Little bird, I can feel you getting wet,” he purrs at me and I squeeze my eyes shut in an attempt to block it out. “I’m going to take such good care of this pretty pussy,” he says as he gently slides a finger inside of me. I’m so wet now that there’s no resistance at all, and my relaxed body only helps him breech me.

He adds a second finger and suddenly, I feel the hot touch of a mouth on my clit. It’s unbearable, the forced pleasure permeating every single sense and nerve, the paralytic erasing every possible outlet I could have to soothe the sharp, overwhelming blanket of unwanted bliss. I can’t clench my legs, can’t roll my hips, arch my back, or even make a single sound. It’s torture.

His mouth and fingers work at me relentlessly and I can feel an orgasm building up. Except my body can’t respond to it, my pussy can’t tense and contract, there’s nothing to soften the rush of pleasure that slams into me. Tears are streaming down my face as my orgasm takes my breath away, the unimaginable pleasure shooting through me with no physical outlet. It makes my entire being go hazy, my breathing quickening as much as it could with my body in this state.

He doesn’t stop when I cum. His fingers continue to slide into me, curling upwards to hit my g-spot with painstaking accuracy. He lifts his mouth from my clit and flashes me a devious smile, “I told you I’d take good care of you. And fuck, you taste so fucking good, little bird. I could do this all day.”

His lips seal around my clit again, sucking, flicking, licking. I’m trapped in my body, trapped in this unbearable pleasure, as he wrings another orgasm out of my helpless body. Finally, he pulls back, sliding his fingers out of my dripping pussy. He sits back on his heels and looks down at me, triumph and satisfaction making him look like a king surveying his conquest.

He slides off the bed but stays in my field of vision as he begins to strip, every article of clothing removed revealing his attractive form. When his pants and underwear come off, I see his long, hard cock jut out, tip already dripping with pre-cum. I want to beg him to stop, tell him that I can’t take anymore but I can’t. I can only watch as he stalks toward me, crawling onto the bed and settling between my legs again.

He’s on his knees, towering over me as he strokes his cock languidly. “I’m going to make you fall apart on my cock, and make you take every single inch in that tight fucking cunt of yours. You are going to be mine, little bird.”

He moves my legs from where they’ve been spread wide, moving them to press both against my chest, leaving my pussy exposed and open for him. I feel the head of his cock push against my pussy and I close my eyes, trying to will myself away from this.

He laughs, “You can’t hide from me, you know that.” His body moves as he slides his cock into me. He’s gentle, slowly feeding an inch at a time, giving my lax body time to adjust to his massive size. I want to thrash and writhe, the feeling of his cock filling me so completely takes my breath away and it feels so fucking good I want to crawl out of my skin.

He lets out a low groan, cursing under his breath as he finally sinks all the way into me. “Fuck, you feel so fucking good, your cunt was made for me.”

Then, he fucks me. His hips slam into me without remorse, every thrust making my body jolt, his grip on my legs and hips the only things keeping me in place. My eyes roll back into my head as the pleasure overwhelms me.

Every thrust slams into my cervix, the pain-tinged pleasure makes me want to scream, to do anything to relieve this mind-melting, all-encompassing feeling. His movements are relentless, each one punctuated by the sound of his pleasure-filled groans. The sound of my pussy’s wetness fills the room, along with our skin slapping together, creating a cacophony of lewd noise.

“Fuck, little bird, I’m going to cum in your tight cunt. I’m going to mark you as mine from the inside,” he growls, his grip on me tight as his hips speed up. Waves of pleasure crash through me and I want to claw myself out of my physical form. I can’t cope with the pleasure shooting through every nerve with nowhere to go.

His hips stutter against mine and I hear his voice rasp out a drawn-out moan as he cums inside of me. He lets my legs down gently, taking care not to strain me as he leans over me. “Fuck, next time I do this, I want you writhing underneath me in pleasure,” he says, voice breathless. I can only stare back at him in response.

He pulls away from me, the feeling of his cock leaving my pussy sending tingles down my spine. He looks at me, his cum dripping out of my cunt and he smiles. “Don’t worry, we’re not done yet.” His words push a stab of anguish into me. What more can he do to me? I can’t handle any more.

He climbs off the bed and steps out of my line of sight. When he comes back, he’s holding a horribly mean-looking vibrator. My eyes widen and I blink frantically, my mind screaming at him to please stop. He can’t hear me but he wouldn’t listen to me even if I could verbalize my pleading.

He smiles and spreads my legs apart again, leaving me exposed and I hear the wretched sound of the vibrator fill the room. There’s no gentle touch, no softness that comes to soothe me, just the horrible, nerve-shattering press of the vibrator against my clit.

My mind breaks. The pleasure explodes out of me but every single muscle of my body stays relaxed, amplifying the unimaginable feeling. There’s nothing to dampen it, no clenching of my legs to make it any better, no cries, moans, whimpers, and screams leaving my throat to distract me. Just the vibrator destroying me.

My orgasm rips through me and he doesn’t relent. Moments later, another orgasm makes my every nerve combust and he only grounds the vibrator harder against me. The next one makes my vision go white and my brain shuts down any higher function and leaves me a shell only capable of experiencing the torturous pleasure. The last orgasm rips through me and tears through my consciousness and my world fades to black.

—

I wake up to a darkened room, clearly a few hours since I passed out, judging by the dusky sunset peeking in through the windows. I’m raw, destroyed, shattered. I desperately will my body to move and I feel my heart jump when my fingers twitch against the bed. My eyes dart around the room, taking in the lack of his presence, and for the first time, I feel hope beat in my chest.

And then, I hear footsteps and see him walk into view. My heart sinks. He’s holding another syringe and he smiles at me. “I see you’re awake, I hope you had a good nap.”

I desperately try to force my body to move but all I get is another pathetic twitch of my fingers. His gaze zeros onto it and he smirks. “Looks like you need a second dose, little bird.”

I want to scream, to beg, to do anything to put up a fight but there’s nothing that can be done. He comes up to the bed and with gentle fingers, pushes the syringe into my hip and presses the plunger down. Tears drip out of my eyes as I fight against my paralyzed body, my fingers still twitching desperately.

A few moments later, even that movement leaves me. He brushes my hair off my forehead and leans down to press a long kiss against my head. “You’re mine forever now, little bird.”

--

Note: This concept is so hot to me and when I saw a clip of the movie's premise, I knew I had to write this! Hope y'all enjoy! <3

[chexnluv]

COZY VIBES ONLY: CUDDLING WITH ENHYPEN , (💤)

pairing: boyfriend ! enhypen × girlfriend ! afab reader, genre: fluff, kisses, pet names, headcanon, [NAV] [MASTERLIST]

LEE HEESEUNG ,

Laughter filled the room as you and Heeseung draped another blanket over the chairs, the two of you tangled in fabric like giddy middle schoolers. The fort was uneven and a little lopsided, but it didn’t matter—every mishap only made it more special. Heeseung peeked at you from under the half-finished canopy, a playful grin on his face as his hair flopped into his eyes. “This is definitely not Pinterest-worthy,” you teased, nudging his arm. Heeseung laughed, his eyes crinkling with mischief. “Who cares? It’s perfect because we made it.” Once the final pillow was tossed inside, you both crawled into the cozy fortress, collapsing in a heap of blankets and laughter. You snuggled close to Heeseung, his arms wrapping around you as you nestled into his warmth. “Look at us,” he whispered, his voice soft, “professional fort builders.” You giggled, pressing your cheek against his chest. “I think we missed our calling.” Heeseung smiled, pulling you closer. “Maybe, but this is the best career move I’ve made.”

rest of the members below !!

PARK JONGSEONG ,

You were sprawled on top of Jay, your body sinking into the comforting warmth of his as you slept soundly, completely unaware of the soft drool pooling on his chest. Jay glanced down, chuckling quietly to himself. Your hair was tousled, your mouth slightly open, and your peaceful expression made his heart flutter. “Really?” he whispered, unable to stop the grin spreading across his face. He carefully reached for his phone, making sure not to disturb you too much. With a soft click, he captured the adorable scene, your drool glistening on his shirt like a badge of honor. At the sound, you stirred, your nose scrunching up in confusion as you blinked your eyes open groggily. “Did you just take a picture?” Jay bit his lip to stifle a laugh. “How could I not? You’re drooling on me. It’s a moment to remember.” You groaned, burying your face in his chest. “Delete it.” He kissed the top of your head, his chest shaking with laughter. “Not a chance.”

SIM JAEYUN ,

Your head rested comfortably on Jake’s chest, his heartbeat steady beneath your ear as the glow of the TV flickered across the room. Wrapped in the warmth of his arms, you felt safe, the softness of his hoodie brushing against your cheek. The action movie played on, explosions lighting up the screen, but you were too focused on the way Jake absentmindedly traced small circles on your back. “Are you even watching, or did I lose you after the first car chase?” he teased, his voice a low hum that rumbled through his chest. You tilted your head up, meeting his amused gaze. “Maybe I’m more interested in cuddling my personal heater,” you quipped with a grin. Jake chuckled, tightening his hold on you. “Well, if I’m your heater, I’ll need some compensation,” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “Hmm, you’re overpaid already,” you murmured, smiling.

PARK SUNGHOON ,

Sunghoon’s soft voice filled the room, his arm wrapped securely around you as you nestled into his side. The melody he hummed was gentle, sweet, and soothing, a stark contrast to his usual cool demeanor. He leaned his cheek against your head, his lips brushing your hair as he sang quietly, the sound vibrating through his chest. “You’re supposed to be sleeping by now,” he teased in a low whisper, glancing down at you with a playful glint in his eyes. “Your voice is too good,” you murmured, half-asleep but fighting the urge to drift off. “How am I supposed to sleep when I just want to listen?” He chuckled softly, pulling the blanket tighter around you. “You’re impossible, you know that?” His fingers lightly traced patterns on your arm, the motion lulling you further into a peaceful daze. “Sing me another,” you mumbled, eyes closed, and Sunghoon smiled, his heart melting as he softly began the next song. “Anything for you.”

KIM SUNOO ,

Sunoo had practically ambushed you with an armful of skincare products, his eyes sparkling with excitement. Before you knew it, you were sprawled out on the bed, face covered in a cooling mask as he gently patted his own in place, a look of pure satisfaction on his face. “Admit it, you feel refreshed already,” he grinned, snuggling closer to you, his legs tangled with yours under the covers. You gave a playful groan, fighting back a smile. “I don’t know… maybe I just wanted to cuddle without feeling like I’m wrapped in seaweed.” Sunoo laughed, the sound soft and warm, his eyes crinkling behind his own mask. “Beauty is pain, darling.” You rolled your eyes but melted into his embrace, the scent of the masks filling the air as his arm draped over your waist. “Fine, but you’re washing this off when I fall asleep.” “Deal,” Sunoo whispered, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead, “if you don’t fall in love with the glow first.”

YANG JUNGWON ,

Jungwon’s lips fluttered against your skin like butterfly wings, peppering your face with kisses as he giggled with every one he planted. You squirmed, half-laughing and half-melting under the playful assault. His eyes sparkled with mischief, and you could feel the warmth of his smile radiating as he leaned back for a moment, admiring his handiwork. “Okay, okay, you win, but why so many kisses?” you asked, trying to catch your breath between giggles. He grinned, his dimples deepening. “Because you’re too cute not to kiss.” Then, without warning, he snuggled down, resting his head on your chest, his hair tickling your chin as he sighed in contentment. “Now, this is the perfect spot,” he mumbled, his fingers lazily tracing circles on your arm. You smiled, gently brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. “You’re like a kitten,” you teased. He chuckled softly, looking up at you with that adorable smile. “And you’re my favorite pillow.”

NISHIMURA RIKI ,

Niki and you lay cuddled up on the couch, completely spent after your wild karaoke session. “Can you believe we actually tried to hit that high note?” Niki chuckled, his voice still breathy as he tucked you closer against him. His arm wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you into his warmth. You giggled, looking up at him. “I think the neighbors are still recovering from our rendition! I’m surprised they didn’t call the cops!” “Or ask for an encore,” he teased, a wide grin spreading across his face. The sound of his laughter sent butterflies fluttering in your stomach. You nudged his side playfully, feeling cozy against his chest. “Next time, let’s leave the high notes to the pros.” “Agreed,” he replied, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “But I wouldn’t trade our crazy performances for anything.” You smiled, nestling deeper into his embrace, feeling perfectly content in your little bubble of warmth and laughter.

taglist: @iconchae @enreveriee

© senascoop | tumblr

[perfectlyoongi]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[0oolookitsme]

Piece of His Heart

Hii everyone, I'm back from my long hiatus!! Hope you missed me because boy did I miss YOU! <3 This one is a little emotional, a little sweet, and VERY Harry focused. Also, I was inspired to write this piece while listening to 'London's Song' by Matt Hartke, and trust me, it's a lovely song. Anyways, hope you enjoy!

Verse - Artist!Harry x Photographer!Y/n

Word Count - 1.0k

Warnings - Mentions of unplanned pregnancy, financial stress.

Harry and Y/n were students, and now, parents to a newborn babygirl as well. With all of the newfound emotions rushing through them, one thing he knew was that they were going to build this new little family slowly, and lovingly.

Harry looked up at the ceiling, at the overused fan moving slowly and creakily, with one of his arms under his head while the other one remained draped over his little baby's back. 

She was curled up on top of him, breathing softly, her little hands fisting his shirt. 

Daylight was pouring into the room through the gap between the two curtains, and Harry still couldn't believe that the little one sleeping away on his chest was finally here, after a worthwhile wait of a full nine months.

He still remembers the nickname he'd given her while she was still inside her mum's belly – 'Pumpkin' he had called her, and her little frame couldn't have agreed more with him. 

Full and round cheeks hung a little low on her face, her small mouth in a pout and eyes as circular as pearls, nothing if not the true meaning of grace.

Which is why he'd settled with the name 'Opal', grinning widely while Y/n had nodded furiously with tears in her eyes, saying how it was the perfect name ever.

His mornings suddenly became impossibly sweeter, something he hadn't expected since he had moved back in this childhood home with Y/n.

A few days ago, when he had laid his eyes on the bundle of sunshine for the very first time ever, a huge piece of his heart, if not his entire heart, had been taken right then and there. 

Sighing, Harry got up very carefully, wary of waking up the newborn and then, when he successfully hadn't, laid her on the two person size sofa – all that he could fit in the name of a seat inside his small art studio. 

He had just turned to get back to his awaiting Canvas, when Opal began mumbling. She was talking in her sleep, he realised with a smile growing on his face, making his dimples show up. 

Another piece of his heart was taken then. 

He wondered, each time that she slept, about just what she was dreaming up. On nights, he worried if she wasn't warm enough, wanted her to know that there was a blanket of stars above her – but he knew he could wait until she began talking to do that. 

Even though he couldn't afford the best, he was going to make this work. He was going to be the best father out there, give Opal all of his love, all with Y/n by his side.

Putting back down the paintbrush he had picked up because he couldn't stop thinking of her, Harry walked back over with his stool to sit and watch her. He crossed over the chair, his front against the chair's backrest as he rested his face on his arms, gazing down with a soft smile on his mouth. 

"I can't wait for you to grow up so that we can talk, you know? So, hopefully, you can tell me if this is where you'll always wanna be," he spoke, brushing away the unruly mop curls on her head. 

"And we can go to a place where you look at the light and it splinters," he sighed, moving to cover her up with a blanket. "Where there's plenty of gas in our car to last us the cold, cold winter," tears glazed over his sight, sniffling as he looked at her small figure lull to side as she slept – he almost let slip a chuckle. 

Right then, she took whatever pieces were left of his heart. 

Winter this year wasn't easy, but that wasn't to say that it wasn't the best one aside from the ones he had spent with Y/n. So much financial stress had come with the unplanned pregnancy, and now a baby. But he knew that the both of them could pull through the loans and make it out as a happy and healthy family, if they stuck together. 

Y/n’s dad, a single father, was a little bit bitter about the whole situation but had begrudgingly stepped forward to help out the two with handling the house, seeing as the both of them had to attend college as well as take care of the baby. He dropped off the groceries last weekend, along with the last minute new-born-baby stuff that Y/n had told him they needed. 

Even Anne stepped forward, letting the two of them borrow a room in her house for as long as they needed – likely until they could get back up on their own feet financially.

Currently, as Harry sat feeling overwhelmed with all of the love and other emotions rushing through him, he could hear Anne talking to Y/n down the hall. The walls weren’t the thickest and he could tell that Anne was sharing her own stories with Y/n, telling her about how she’d had Harry at a young age, and more. 

He’d heard it before, had even seen the two of them having this chat. So he knew that Anne, very likely, had Y/n’s head in her lap and brushing her hands through her hair, trying to console the woman high on hormones and the insurmountable number of emotions she must be feeling. 

Wiping away at his nose with the sleeve of his flannel, Harry blinked away the tears and pulled up a smile on his face again, trying to be courageous, for Y/n and their daughter. Because he knew that Y/n was doing the same for them. For the little family they were both going to build slowly and lovingly now.

"But I also want you to be this little forever, so that I can cherish you enough, yes?" He asked her, nodding his head when she mumbled something incoherent, something similar to ‘we’ll be fine, dada', Harry wanted to believe. 

And unable to help himself, he picked her up again, holding her flush against his exposed torso because he didn’t have the energy to button up his shirt and the skin to skin contact made breathing a little easier. 

"I'll love you tenderly," he whispered, pressing a kiss on her forehead. "I'll love you forever, and more, little pumpkin." 

[catsushizz]

Love me until I love myself - S.R

Spencer Reid x Fem!reader

Summary: Spencer got used to his life consisting of books and the BAU he had never truly viewed the prospect of love but when you came it all just clicked.

Warning: no use of y/n

Fluff

WC: 1.1k

----

Spencer got used to waking up with an empty bed beside him and it never crossed his mind that it made him feel lonely or sad it just felt natural. His apartment is quiet and he never noticed that his eyes grow somber as the day passes, it's unnoticeable, subtle but there.

He was in a state where no one knew what was going on with his life but he'd like to think that his life was a mere touch of tranquility whenever there was no phone going off every second of the day.

But a single touch of color changed how he perceived life and gradually he found himself falling in love. It's like the cosmic collided when you first talked to him and from there on public libraries became his solace everything you like became his safe space, benches in the park, the car that you take road trips in, the Lumineers, and your favorite cafe. You were the color that was missing from his blank canvas, no matter how rough he was, you smoothened the edges of his life.

You were the subject of his poems, the muse of his dreams, and the bearer of his heart. Tangled in a sea of messy sheets, your hands draped over his torso, his head buried in the crook of your neck, and for the first time, he was terrified of waking up alone.

His eyes flutter open and search for you and when they land on your sleeping figure he can feel his heart palpitate in adoration. The ever-growing branches of his life continued to grow but were now accompanied by the leaves that were growing between the crevice of his broken branches.

Your touch was addicting, your fingertips would explore every inch of his body. He notices when your finger brushes against his scars you massage patterns with precision and he feels like his heart could burst, he loves you so much it hurts.

He can't even imagine the storm taking you away from him, he would suffer an endless flood if that were to happen.

He loves how you glow so effortlessly under the scrutiny of the sun or the way you hold his hands whenever you feel like he needs it but he especially loves the fact that you love him despite his flaws. There are nights when you fought so loudly and exchanged some hurtful words, and he remembered how much he wanted to take it back but you weren't perfect either and that molded you both together so perfectly that not even the afterglow can rival it.

Spencer never really quite grasped the concept of life solely because he didn't know if he was choosing the right path and it keeps him up at night, what if he chose a different path and completely risked not meeting you? he would rather die, you were cuddled up with him on the couch watching documentaries when he blurted out his concerns, but your sentiments deemed his thoughts.

"I think no matter what path you choose, it will always lead to us, our souls are intertwined, and it's carved in our hearts. There's a possibility that there's a chance for us to meet again in another lifetime I think I will recognize you, purely because I'm sure our souls left remnants of our past lives to help us remember how much we truly loved each other," you whispered, as you ran your fingers through his unruly hair.

His heart skipped a beat, you still make him feel that way despite his youth withering each day, you make him feel young.

"I love you, you're the best thing life has given me" he tried his best to keep his voice stable but it wobbled and you chuckled lightly.

"You know I love you more" You wiggle your brows at him with a grin. He laughed and pulled you impossibly close.

"But I love you most" he replied and you groaned burying yourself in the crook of his neck.

"we're not gonna bicker about this again, let's just say we love each other so much that time can't measure it" you murmured as you kissed the crook of his neck, he giggled at the contact of your kiss making you subconsciously smile.

"But I love you more than everything though" he teased.

"Don't you dare quote Beautiful Boy to me right now" you sternly said and he laughed. Oh, his life was different now but different in a way where you crave for it to last forever.

His broken parts where he learns to hate, you learned to love, and the things you hate about yourself he came to adore. Spencer always felt like an extra piece in a puzzle but turns out you were too, both of you stand out in the best way possible, and to the ends of the earth, he will follow you, his life in the BAU be damned.

If ever old age has its way of finding him then all the light in the world may cease to exist. Time can consume so much in a person, that Spencer wasn't sure if he liked it but growing old with you was a different story.

He'll live and tell a story of how much he loved a single girl who completely changed his life, even if his hand trembles in every movement he makes, and even if his memory fades he'll hold on to you so deep in his heart until his next life where he gets to hold you again.

The theory of everything started when you met and ended when his skin gradually changed and how his wrinkles deepened until he was one with nature.

Buried next to each other as both of you wished, your children visit the sacred place with their kids and then they'll tell the story of how both of you fell in love and they'll add how much the both of you loved your children.

----

You were running late, coffee in hand and it happened so fast that you didn't even notice that he was there. You collided with someone your coffee spilling on the man's shirt and your eyes widened in horror.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" You exclaimed as you rushed to get the tissues out of your bag to help him.

"Hey, it's fine" came his calm yet familiar voice. Sensing that he was looking at you, you averted your gaze to meet his eyes and you felt the world suddenly stop.

He has the most beautiful hazel eyes you've ever seen and his brown curly hair added charm to his chiseled face. He looked familiar you're sure of it, and without you knowing, he felt the same way too.

"Hi," he softly whispered stuck in a daze as he looked at you.

You let out an airy chuckle "I'm sorry, do I know you?" You asked.

So the cycle starts again.

[hellobykittys]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 (𝐈𝐌)𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐍 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓.𝐈𝐈 ✦ 𝐂𝐋¹⁶

SUMMARY: Charles Leclerc, a Formula 1 star, faces the decline of his reputation after breaking up with art curator Alexandra Saint Mleux. Under pressure from his team, he is forced into a fake relationship with one of the most popular influencers of the moment. NOTES: English is not my first language, so there might be some writing mistakes. I apologize for that, and feel free to point out any improvements. WC: 1.9k WARNING: teasing, fake relationship

PREVIOUS PART | MASTERLIST | SMAU VER | NEXT PART

The next morning, Charles was already regretting it. Or maybe just annoyed. Or both. He hadn’t decided yet. The truth was, the plan had started before he was even awake.

“Did you like her photo?” Lorenzo asked, barging into the room without knocking.

“Good morning to you too,” Charles replied, throwing a pillow at his brother.

“Charles, I’m serious. Did you?”

“Which photo? She posts like fifty a day.”

Lorenzo sighed and handed his phone to his brother. On the screen, Y/N’s latest post glowed—a seemingly casual photo but so flawlessly composed it was impossible not to notice the meticulous planning behind it.

“Liked it yet?” Lorenzo pressed, pointing at the heart button.

Charles mumbled something unintelligible but tapped the button anyway.

“There. Done. Now let me sleep.”

But it wasn’t done. The second his like went live, the internet worked its obsessive magic. Gossip accounts picked up on the move almost immediately. “Charles Leclerc likes Y/N’s photo. Coincidence or something more?”

Meanwhile, across the city, Y/N was sitting in a chic café, laughing quietly as her phone blew up with notifications.

“They’re fast, huh?” she commented to her best friend, Clara, who was rolling her eyes as she stirred her cappuccino.

“Are you actually enjoying this?” Clara asked, sounding a little skeptical.

“It’s not about enjoying it. It’s a job.” Y/N shrugged, though the smirk on her lips said otherwise.

Charles was never a fan of hosting dinners at home. He was more of a fine-dining restaurant kind of guy—or, when no one was looking, fast food in his car. But tonight, his apartment had turned into Sofia’s mission control.

He opened the door still in sweatpants, his hair a mess, and looking just a little tired.

“You look like a teenager,” was the first thing Y/N said as she walked in, holding a bag of desserts.

“And you always look ready for a runway,” he shot back, taking in her flawless outfit: skinny jeans, a white cropped tee, and sneakers—casual but calculated.

“Thanks. I practice.”

She waltzed in, ditching her shoes near the door and taking in the space. His apartment was minimalist but not soulless. Trophies were scattered across a shelf, abstract art he clearly didn’t choose hung on the walls, and a big couch dominated the living room, probably the epicenter of his social life.

“Do you actually live here? I expected it to be… messier,” she remarked, flopping onto the couch.

“If it were messier, you’d complain. If it were tidier, you’d say it’s fake. So, please, tell me the exact level of chaos that would make you happy.”

“You’re starting to figure me out,” she said with a laugh.

The dinner, as it turned out, was delivery that took so long to arrive they were already brainstorming the next steps of the plan before eating. Y/N sat cross-legged on the floor, her laptop open and notes scattered across the coffee table.

“Okay, we need something for the first public appearance. Nothing too obvious, but not so subtle that people miss the point.”

Charles, slouched on the couch, watched as she spoke, distracted by the businesslike tone she used.

“Do you talk this seriously all the time, or is it just when you’re in work mode?” he asked, resting his chin on his hand.

“This is serious, Leclerc,” she replied without looking up. “If you want to salvage your reputation, you’re going to have to trust me.”

He sighed, knowing she was right.

“Our first appearance could be next week, just before the Monaco race weekend. We could stroll around the streets in your car or stop at a café,” she suggested. “It’ll look casual, but everyone will notice.”

“What if we just let the rumors do their thing?” he tried.

“Because that would be too easy for you.” Y/N finally looked up. “You need to give people a reason to believe this story. And I’m very convincing.”

At that moment, the delivery arrived. Charles went to grab it while Y/N rearranged the table to make it look casually perfect.

“Let’s start small,” she said, stretching her arm out to snap a photo. He watched as she worked, following her directions like a puppet.

“This will drive people crazy,” she commented, showing him the image before posting it.

The picture showed Charles’s hand holding a wine glass and part of his torso. On the table between them sat two pizzas.

Charles rolled his eyes. “You’re good at this, I’ll admit.”

“Not just good—excellent,” she corrected.

As they ate, the tension between them grew more noticeable. While they discussed details like when she’d start appearing in the paddock, the teasing didn’t stop.

“Do you think people will actually believe I fell for you?” he asked, smirking.

“If I can pretend to find you interesting, people can believe anything,” she shot back, taking a bite of pizza.

He laughed. “Interesting? I thought you were having fun.”

“I’m a great actress,” she said, giving him a playful wink.

“Now we need more pictures,” Y/N said after a while, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Something a bit more… intimate.”

“More?” Charles sighed, clearly exhausted. “Wasn’t that last one enough?”

“Of course not! People need to believe we’re in love. Think of something subtle: holding hands, your hand on my thigh… something like that.”

Charles raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile immediately forming on his lips. “For someone who made the ‘no touching’ rule, you seem pretty eager for this. Trying to relive that night at the club?”

The comment was bold, but Y/N didn’t even blink. She simply stared at him for a moment, her calm almost irritating, before replying, “What night, Leclerc? You must be confusing me with one of your dreams.”

He chuckled, but there was something about the way she brushed off the topic that left him unsettled. After all, she had walked out that night without a word, pretending like nothing had happened. And it still nagged at him.

Unbothered, Y/N stood up and moved to the couch behind them, sitting like someone who knew exactly what they were doing.

“Come here. You need to sit next to me,” she ordered, patting the spot beside her on the couch.

Charles raised an eyebrow but stood up, following her instructions without protest. “What do I need to do now, boss?”

Y/N firmly took his hand and placed it on her thigh. With her other hand, she adjusted her phone’s camera.

“You just need to sit still,” she said, winking at him before snapping the picture. “Look, it turned out so cute!”

She showed him the result, a satisfied smile lighting up her face.

He glanced at the photo, then back at her. “You seem pretty excited about this. I’m starting to think I’m not the only one dreaming here.”

Y/N let out a small laugh, ignoring his comment as she went back to adjusting the photo’s filter. But Charles couldn’t help but notice: as much as she tried to stay in control, there was something in her eyes that hinted she might be enjoying this more than she let on.

Later, as they cleared the empty plates and went over the plan’s timeline, their eyes met. For a moment, silence filled the room. It wasn’t awkward, but it was heavy with something neither of them wanted to acknowledge.

“Well, this was… productive,” Y/N said, breaking the tension as she stood up to grab her bag.

“‘Productive’ is one way to put it,” he replied, following her to the door.

Once she left, Charles collapsed onto the couch and grabbed his phone. The picture she had just posted was already blowing up with comments. He liked it quietly before tossing the phone onto the table.

At the media day press conference, Charles had already memorized the answers Sofia had prepared for him. When someone asked about his personal life, he replied with a cryptic smile:

“I’ve been spending more time at home, enjoying it with people I like.”

Meanwhile, Y/N was doing her part. During an Instagram live, someone asked,

“Do you like Formula 1?”

She smiled, as if she knew exactly what she was doing.

“I didn’t think I did, but lately… I’ve been watching it more.”

tαglıst: @charlesgirl16 @sltwins

[callme-holly]

I NEED I NEED a sweet soft domestic dallas. i need it. i crave it. idc if its out of character. i live, breathe, eat, sleep, a cute soft dallas winston. so if u will, please and thank you write dallas with fem reader where she needs picked up from her house bc her parents are kicking her our OR bc they are fighting and she doesn’t wanna be there (you choose!) and dallas is teeth rotting sweet and soft with her.

ilysm!!!❤️🙏🏼

𝐈'𝐯𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 [𝐝𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫]

𝐚/𝐧 : IM LOVING THIS PLEASE GIVE ME MORE SWEET REQUESTS LOVE Y'ALL

The familiar rumble of an engine pulls you from your thoughts, cutting through the muffled yelling coming from the house behind you as it rolls to a stop in front of your gate. It’s sleek red paintwork in scratch and dented in places, and one of the headlights is out, but you’re relieved to see it all the same. 

Before you can process what’s happening, you’re already on your feet, moving instinctively. You jog across the front yard, ignoring the way your heart pounds and the blood rushes in your ears, not stopping until you collide with Dallas, tucking yourself into his chest the second he steps out of the car. 

He grunts a little in surprise but wraps his arms around you anyway, holding you steady as you catch your breath.

“You called?” He mumbles, his voice husky and rough with sleep, and you’d almost feel bad for waking him if you didn’t need him as much as you do now. Almost. You pull away enough so that you can look up at him, searching his features for any sign of annoyance or irritation, but strangely, you find nothing but fondness and what looks like it could be concern. 

“Yeah… They’re fighting again. Didn’t want to be in the house.” 

Dallas nods in understanding, squeezing you a fraction tighter before letting go completely, exposing you to the biting chill of winter once more. He doesn’t say anything; he doesn’t question why your parents are fighting or how long you've been sitting out of the porch, just waiting. Instead, he bundles you into the car, closing the door for you and going around to climb into the driver's side. You watch as he adjusts his seatbelt, something he only ever seems to do when you're riding with him, then he turns the key and the car roars to life, pulling away from the curb and speeding down the street. 

The heater is broken again if the cold air inside the vehicle is anything to go by, and you’d almost go as far as saying it was warmer outside than in here. The windows are fogged over, making it near impossible to see anything outside, everything passing in a muted blur, and while you know the roads like the back of your hand, you feel strangely lost in that moment.

“They’ll be back to normal again tomorrow,” Dallas says suddenly, startling you and bringing you back to the chilling interior of the car. His eyes are focused steadily on the road, but the way he clenches the wheel tells you everything he needs to know: he’s angry for you, angry that all your parents seem to do is yell and scream and tear you down with words that aren't even meant for you but still hurt you in a way you wouldn’t think possible. 

“I know,” you tell him quietly, letting your head rest against the cool glass of the window, letting out a long breath. “I just… I don’t know.” 

There is silence for some time after that, and you watch the flicker of colour and lights streak by outside the misty window; the quiet hum of the engine and shifting gears are the only sounds besides the thud of your heart in your chest. Dallas’ hand comes to rest on your thigh, his thumb tracing back and forth in a gentle manner that nobody would think him capable of managing. It's soothing and calming, a reminder that he’s there, and you’re safe, that everything will sort itself out for better or for worse. 

“It’s gonna be alright.” His voice has softened considerably, and he almost doesn’t sound like himself—too tender and kind. It doesn’t suit him, not at all, but you find it nice all the same.

“How do you know?” You glance over at him, barely turning your head, your movements growing lazy as the exhaustion takes over, your limbs growing heavy, and your mind as hazy as the fog steaming the windshield. 

Dallas shrugs, swallowing heavily. “Because you got me. And I won't let anything’ happen to you. Not without a fight.” 

Your heart does a little flip in your chest, and butterflies stir in your stomach, fluttering wildly. He smiles at you, warm and genuine, and you can’t help but return it, watching the way his eyes crinkle slightly in the corners, his face lighting up in a way it very rarely does. 

A warmth settles around you, one that dashes away the freezing cold settling in your bones, and you don’t bother fighting it, content to let it engulf you, too mesmerized by the lingering calm expression on his face to care. 

He’s got you, and you’re safe as long as you’re with him.

[pickingupmymercedes]

“watch it. seriously.” “take another step towards me and watch what happens.”

hi can we have one where it is the 1st time lewis ever hurt her deeply with his words after days of giving her silent treatment without any explanation? and then reader just decided to stop trying to talk to him bcs she has tried everything b4? and then maybe decided to sleep separately or smth. HEAVY ANGST and SFW please. also, congratulations on the 500 followers!!!! i love you 🤍🤍🤍

Hi lovely, thank you for sending your request ❤️

Also, I changed the timeline of your blurb a bit (mainly because I kind wanted to give this one a happy ending). Hope it's okay

“watch it. seriously.” and “take another step towards me and watch what happens.”

Y/N slammed the apartment door shut behind her, the sound echoing through. Lewis stood frozen in the middle of the living room; the remnants of his half-packed bags scattered around as they were both supposed to be packing for Singapore.

"Seriously, Lewis?" Her voice was tight, laced with hurt and anger. "It's not even a special race, and I’m going to be with you in the very weekend anyway!"

Silence stretched between them, thick with tension. Lewis ran a hand through his hair, his frustration mirroring hers.

"It's more than just the race, Y/N," he finally spoke, his voice strained. "Everything lining up just right."

"I can’t leave my team right now Lewis." she spat, the words bitter on her tongue. "My work and my life is just as important as yours, your know!?"

Lewis's jaw clenched. "Watch it. Seriously."

But the warning only fueled her fire. "No, you watch it, Lewis!" she shouted, tears stinging her eyes. "You fly all over the world, chasing glory, and then expect me to drop everything on a dime because it might be a 'good race'?!"

He flinched, and the hurt in his eyes momentarily stopped her tirade. But the silence stretched, and the unspoken words hung heavy in the air. Then, in a low voice laced with frustration, Lewis spoke, “This isn't working, Y/N. Our schedules just don't..."

The words cut her deeper than any argument ever could. Without a word, she turned and started to walk away. Lewis caught her hands, trying to turn her around but she flinched at his touch.

"Don't," she warned, her voice surprisingly steady. "Take another step towards me and watch what happens." He froze, hand hovering in mid-air. "Y/N," he started, frustration battling with concern in his voice.

But she cut him off, the fight momentarily drained out of her. "I'll… I'll talk to you later" she mumbled, needing some space to cool down before she shredded their fragile peace even further.

 She knew she was being unreasonable. She knew Lewis just wanted her with him for support, especially on race weekends, but her own hectic schedule made it impossible for her to be there for every race, and he had always known that. Yet, the sting of his words wouldn't fade.

Hours later, when the anger had subsided and only a dull ache remained, Y/N found her way to the music room, the most likely place to find him. The door was slightly ajar, and the soft strains of his favorite playlist filled the space.

Lewis sat on the worn leather couch, his head hanging low as he tried to write something on a notebook. He looked up as she entered, a flicker of surprise crossing his features before being replaced by a heavy sigh.

"Can we talk about it?" she asked, her voice softer now.

"I'm here when you're ready" he replied, his voice gruff.

She crossed the room and sat down on the other end of the couch, gazing out the window for a moment before turning back to him. "What's so important about Singapore, Lewis?" she asked, the question heavy with unspoken hurt.

He hesitated, then met her gaze. "It's… the car feels good this week," he finally admitted. "The data, the track… everything's lining up." He paused, then added softly, "And I would really like you to be there with me, if that victory is really possible."

The air hung heavy for a moment. Then, a small smile tugged at the corner of her lips. Maybe, just maybe, your team could catch up virtually.

"Alright, Hamilton" she said, her voice teasing. "Looks like you get your lucky charm this weekend then."

______________________________________________________________

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[sashi-ya]

𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑨𝑵𝑺𝑾𝑬𝑹 「cuts of freedom: final part 」 soshiro hoshina x f! officer! reader

a/n: and the end is here! i'm not gonna lie, I wish for this story to last forever. And, actually, I might add some little updates about these two here and there sometimes! anyway, please enjoy! And thank you so so much for being here since the very beginning when this started as a simple scenario 💖 a/n 2: some clarification about the contents: "せーの!”  is the classical expression "seeh・noh" in Japanese used like "ready, set, go!". Tanabata, is a very well known festival in Asia celebrated during July- Aug. The Hoshina clan is real clan! I did my research, that's why I added the "Fukushima" patterns. tw: mdni! sex explicit scenes. masturbation. nipple bitting. marking. public car sex. wc: 3.5k // part 1: cuts of freedom // part 2: かんぱい！// part 3: stuffed // part 4: side B: relax // part 5: mirror, mirror... // part 6: sex for breakfast // masterlist

Eyebags puffy and visible, you haven’t really sleep much. Breakfast -and sex after breakfast- though, tasted delicious.

Should you both arrive together? Where are you, exactly, after all?

“Come on, did you bring the uniform?” Soshiro asks, putting on one of his classic black compressive shirts.

Your heart breaks, as the abs you adore get once again covered by that tight fabric. You are not mad, though.

“I haven’t- I just brought normal clothes…” you sigh, remembering the fact you left your boiler suit at the base.

“Then wear mine” he says, pretty naturally, handing you over one of his suits.

If there is something us women like, is to wear our couple’s clothing. And you aren’t any different. Instantly, you take -almost snatch- it from his hands. You are eager to see if it smells like him, you are eager to feel hug and warm by even his clothing.

And, indeed, it has a faint trace of his perfume. Manly and delicious, you engulf the smell, feeling your insides get filled with butterflies as you do.

“Should I take it off? Or wanna wear it around?” Soshiro asks, laughing cutely while coming closer to you. His delicate fingers graze the little enamel pin on your chest.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ“Hoshina Soshiro ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ 3rd Div. Vice Captain”

You smile softly, eyelashes fluttering slowly, looking down at his hand. Of course, you’d love to wear it around; because you are his… but you aren’t ready for “he say she says” although rumour already has it that you two have something going on.

“Do you think is it ok? Isn’t it against the rules?” “Indeed it is, doll. Give it back, haha!”

Your cheeks become hot from embarrassment. Of course it is against the rules. And sometimes with these type of little pranks, Soshiro can be a little bit annoying.

“Don’t be sad, I promise you I will search for my old badge, and I will give it to you. Ok?” he says, kissing the tip of your nose as he takes off the pin from your clothes.

You nod, sweetly. Like a little girl, you are instantly happy and satisfied with such a beautiful and cute promise.

Soshiro doesn’t pay much attention at anything besides you while walking out of his apartment. His hand is placed on your lower back, guiding you through the hall towards the elevator.

“You look so good with my clothes, hun” he whispers, closely to your ear right from behind.

A shiver runs down your spine and it travels to every little sensitive spot on your body.

“Thank you… Soshiro~” you answer, not sure if you wish the elevator to arrive faster or slower.

Unfortunately -or not- the doors of the lift open, and the sterile white lights of the mirrored inside receives you reflecting all of your angles.

You remember Soshiro complaining of the cameras inside the elevator, and as much as you wish he could push you against the walls to grope you, you know it is impossible. But nothing is when it comes to Hoshina Soshiro who is apparently crazier for your sex more than what you could think of.

He, then, proceeds to stand right at your back. It is him who’s against the bars attached to the mirror wall, now. His hands slowly slide from your waist to your front, getting into the front pockets of your boiler suit.

With his chin carved on your shoulder, he smirks to the mirror in front of you. His fingers reaching for your core, pushing quite strongly against it in tiny circular motions.

“I really want my suit to get covered by your scent… would you make a little mess for me?” he asks, pressing his crotch against your ass, showing you how hard he is once again.

You swallow; it wasn’t necessary to ask, if he keeps doing what he is doing you will for sure make a mess in it.

“So-Sosh-ngh…” you fidget around his index going crazy over your clit. “Mmh? Don’t be that noticeable… you know I don’t want the guards to see you! plus, the doors are about to open. What if a neighbour sees you?” he says, in such perverse tone it makes you tremble.

You bite your lips shut, taking a big gasp of air, wishing for his fingertips to finally touch you without anything in between. Your eyes shut closed, inevitably thinking of what he said; what if the doors open and someone sees you in such state?

The “ping” announces the doors are about to open, your heart rising faster, your inner thighs dripping with sensual wetness.

“せーの!”  he whispers. And as soon as a fine line of light filters through the sliding doors, he takes his hand off the pocket -and your sex-

You sigh loudly, putting yourself together in a matter of seconds.

“Morning, Soshiro-chan!” she says with a lovely tone, as if this happened every day.

“Morning, Mrs. Tanaka!” he salutes her, like a usual daily happening.

An old woman stands right in front of the elevator, with an as old as her poodle in her hands. The dog barks annoyingly at Soshiro and you, as it might have seen a cat… well, Soshiro kinda looks like one.

“Go kill many Kaiju, boy!” “I sure will, Mrs. Tanaka! Give Mr. Tanaka my regards!”

Apparently, that woman is Soshiro’s neighbour. Did he know she was going to be there by the time the elevator reached the floor level? He is more perverted than what you could have ever imagined…

You smile all throughout the mere seconds the conversation lasts, walking out of the mirrored lift trying to regulate your accelerated breathing.

The moment the doors close, he turns to you too look into your eyes. He burns holes into yours, with a smirk that shows he is not quite over with it.

“See? I told you…” “Soshiro, sometimes I think you are just a villain…”

He laughs, loudly, like he is used to do. From his pocket, he takes the keys of his car, and both walk to the little parking lot right behind the building.

He opens the door for you, putting first your little bag in the backseat and then letting you sit on the front. He then closes such door and jumps into the drivers seat.

And despite you thinking he was going to start the engine, he had first quite different plans...

“You said you thought I was a villain…” he mumbles, looking at you, coming closer to your lips with his index under your chin.

“You must be ~” you playfully back up.

He smirks and it’s all you need; next thing you know, is him pulling you from your seat to straddle your hips on top of his lap.

“Then, as the villain I am, allow me to finish my perfect crime…” he whispers, lowering the zipper of your -his- suit open.

You wonder if this man has a “public sex kink” or he actually just don’t care the rest of the world but you; Soshiro wants to have you at any time, in any place, whenever he desires.

His hand slides down your belly and into your panties. Wet as he wanted you is what he founds. And he is pleased.

Soshiro’s free hand pulls you closer as he pushes your lower back further. Your breasts, free of any other clothing, bounce temptingly in front of his face. It doesn’t take him much to finally attach to them with lips and teeth. Sucking like his life depended on  it, he makes you whine loudly from pleasure and pain… boy, those fangs are certainly sharp.

While he delights himself with the taste of your nipples, his thumb finishes the work he started in the elevator; masturbating you so good you soon forget about the weak morning light bathing the parking lot, or the fact Soshiro’s car windows have a barely purple tint on them.

Soon enough, your thighs accompany the spasms your inner walls experience. And climax hits you uncontrollably; the mess Soshiro wanted, had finally been materialized… his suit will hold the stains of your relief exactly as he wished.

“As long as I wish to fuck you hard, we are gonna get late there. I don’t want Mina to scold us” he says, helping you sit on your spot back again.

You are trembling still, only recognizing his voice, and the sweet way in which he closes the zipper and fasten the seatbelt to keep you safe.

You blink twice, still in awe. You look into the little mirror, seeing your heated cheeks and the mess of your hair that you slowly fix while he starts to drive. The pony tail you just finished, your hands still around the elastic band… the lustful idea of pleasuring him while he drives; after all you believe in equality, and just as he made you come… you must make him come, too.

You drift to the side, still without catching much of his attention. You bend slowly; waiting for a red light to make him stop. Your mouth is watering, and it is that Soshiro somehow tastes so delicious. Maybe it is his healthy life style, maybe is the testosterone of a modern samurai or it is just that you are infatuated with him.

“Wha- hahaha- what are you doing?!” he laughs, thinking you are just being funny. “I think I want my mouth to be a mess as well” you whisper, moving like a cat about to pounce on a little mouse.

His eyes now open widely; looking down as you lower the pants’ zipper.

“This is one of the things I love about you, (Name)-san… go ahead, feast on it” “It will be my pleasure, fuku-taichou” you sing, kissing the bulge before finally freeing his sex from his briefs.

You can feel on your chest the little ups and downs of his legs while he drives, and every bump pushes his dick inside you even deeper against your throat. Your tongue makes sure to damp the whole shaft, while your bobbing head and sucking lips make him grunt.

Soshiro’s hands grip tightly to the wheel; a little drop of sweat forms on his forehead. His sex becomes harder, ready to burst. The way you let his dick go deeper into your throat, allows the tip of your tongue to reach for the base and even more if you use your hand to play with his balls. The poor soldier is doing a great job while driving through the busy streets of Tachikawa, fast enough to park right at the base for the moment he reaches the peak…

“I’m gonna… come… you-“ “I won’t let a drop mess with your seat, don’t worry…” you whisper, giving him the last pumps this time with your hand and your tongue against his tip.

Soshiro retorts in silence, letting scattered “nghs” and “fucks” as he finally bursts. He grabs your pony tail, having the hair tangled on his fist, burying your head down so that he can finish right into your throat.

Eyes watery, lungs using the last molecule of oxygen, nose inhaling his skin’s perfume, your tongue feeling the accelerated pulse on his sex’s veins… oh, the delicious warm seed of Hoshina Soshiro going down your throat.

“You are gonna be the death of me, babe…”

The return to the base felt silent; both got out of Soshiro’s car, smiled at each other and parted ways. He needed to go back to his office, while you had to go straight to morning training. Your muscles were screaming at you; they didn’t want any more exercise this morning… but you simply couldn’t skip it.

The day went by fast and in between building strength and weapon management; by the time the afternoon arrived, the constant memory of Soshiro’s promise for tonight’s plans that reverberated in your brain, fade off to the point of almost forgetting about it.

However, there are certain things you couldn’t escape from, and you were about to find out.

By the time the training was over, and everybody was stretching, you began to win a couple of looks; your suit didn’t feel like yours and indeed it had a special pair of little straps on the back that you didn’t take in consideration when you chose not to change into yours…

“(Name), what is this?” Akari asks, passing her finger in between one of the hoops that’s clearly meant to be used to hold a certain type of blade.

“What?” you ask, still unaware.

“Oh, oh… don’t tell me you are a double blade user like Hoshina Fukutaichou, (Name)?! Platoon leader Nakanoshima says, laughing loudly with clear intentions of teasing you. She continues, also, telling Ryo he owes her money for winning “the bet”… “I told you they were screwing!”  “Nakanoshima -.-“

Your eyes open like two pair of eggs. Your cheeks turn to fire, the whole squad laughs and other start whispering… yet, none of those reactions were filled with bad intentions. In fact, it was quite the opposite, making even Mina give Kafka a soft little smile in complicity.

“No, no I- We aren’t… It is not what it seems like! We aren’t… uh…“ you try to excuse yourself, being aware that this could be detrimental to your relationship. You aren’t sure if Soshiro wants you like anything else than an “acquaintance”. This rumour could fuck everything up.   

“There are no rules against it, (Name)! don’t worry!” Kikoru smiles, assuring an essential truth; her parents were known to be one of the strongest couples inside of the JAKDF.

You give a sweet smile to your young but strong nakama; she doesn’t really need to know the details of how intricate adult relationships really are… yet.

The commotion gets instantly silenced by Mina ordering you all to go back to your stretching exercises. You all bow respect to your captain, and fast enough you all continue with your duties.

Soon, as the training finally finished, everybody start walking back at the barracks. You needed a bath, perhaps more than anyone else in that place… this morning “mess” was still unwashed.

None of the women said much as you walk to the bathrooms; everybody seemed more tired than ever. Probably, like you, they all had fun on that free day you were given yesterday.

It was not until you undressed that you noticed the marks all over your body; fangs that carved into your flesh have left a vast area of purple and painful spots all over that have been developing all throughout the day.

“There is no way I will make another scene. I must shower when everybody is done…” you think, suddenly remembering the day Soshiro cut open your anti kaiju suit; the day he saved your life, and the day both skins touched for the very first time in such intimate and deep way. This, lead you to remember, also, the so mentioned “plans for tonight”.

What were those plans? Were they still happening? What if he -and probably he already does- knows about today’s fuss on you wearing his uniform? He hasn’t reached out yet…

By the time you are out of the shower, you keep lost into your thoughts and memories of Soshiro’s sweet kitty face.

“(Name)? you lost your intercom again. Here…” A soft voice, calm and patient pulls you out your own thoughts and hands you over a little white earphone.

You blink twice, noticing captain Ashiro being as delicate as a flower while she gives you the ear piece. She simply takes his index to her ear and taps twice leading you to wear what she gave you.

You haven’t lost it, though. You simply didn’t wear it today; nobody was expected to do so, either way. But you understand, almost immediately, that you must follow your captain’s orders because something beautiful was waiting for you.

She turns around, fluttering her onyx hair while holding her towel on her shoulder, and disappears through the door to leave you alone.

You put the little intercom on; tapping twice on it.

“Hello?” “Hello, Miss (Name). Would you please come to my office?” Soshiro says, playfully acting like your vice-captain. “Yes, Sir!” you say, clearly and loud. However, your insides were turned into a holy mess; the butterflies felt like Kaiju flying around your stomach.

You run; you couldn’t hide it anymore. The halls of that base felt endless, why did it feel like Soshiro’s office had changed places with any other room?!

It took you a couple of minutes to get there. Panting, you wait for a couple of seconds to regulate your breathing. A single desktop lamp turned on guides you to his desk. However, Soshiro isn’t there, but a washi paper wrapped box waiting for you with a note on it.

“Dear (Name), please wear this and talk to me so that I can guide you to your next destination. Be aware the clothing and the hair pin you will find inside this box has a long history in the Hoshina family ~”

Your eyes get a little watery; you weren’t exactly sure on what to expect… but this is definitely something better than what you could ever. This seems truly romantic, and you are by far speechless.  

You open the box, taking care of not ruining the paper… you really wish to keep at least a piece of it. Inside it lays an even more beautiful piece of traditional clothing than the one you wore at his apartment; a yukata, purple with hints of lilac flowers, typical Fukushima Aizu patterns from where the Hoshina clan are the originally founders.

The hair piece, looks like two little representation of katanas imbued in sakura flowers of silver and purple little stones.

You cover your face in total awe; deep inside you still think you don’t deserve to wear such beautiful piece of art. But you end up doing it, Hoshina Fukutaichou said so, right?

The Japanese silk falls so delicate on your skin, kissing it softly with cold pecks on every mark he has left on you. You take a last look at your image on the little mirror he keeps on his office, still unable to process how beautiful you look, and double tap your intercom.

“You ready, princess?” he asks, curious.

“I am… Soshiro, this is… beautiful” you whisper, blushing harder with every word you mouth.

“Not as you, (Name). Now, please walk to the back of the base. There is a zen garden, you will find your next surprise there… and the answer you’ve been waiting for”

“Yes, Soshiro ~”

Walk? He said walk? who could walk?

Run, run, run. Your hair set free, only holding by a single strand to silver blades,   dances with the wind your own speed creates. Run, run, run. Through the halls of the base that’s been your home, your dream and your begin and end….

Fairy lights look like blurry dots, like fireflies, by the end of the hall; you run to catch them all. To see him, to hear an answer your heart already knows.

“Soshiro!” you whisper, when you stop all of a sudden, noticing how beautiful the Zen garden had been decorated. Warm lights, and every branch of the bamboo holding little multi-coloured papers… have you forgotten? It’s the night of Tanabata.

Your lips tremble, your eyes become watery once again; never experienced something more beautiful, even more because it was prepared for you… and only for you.

“Welcome ~” he sings, lifting his two hands and indexes up. “You look, and I know I told you this before, so beautiful wearing my family’s clothing… Please tell me you are the type of person who loves Tanabata” he continues, a little insecure now.

You wipe a little tear off the corner of your eye; anything you could love or even hate means nothing compared to him… you are the type of person who loves… him.

“This is… more than beautiful… why? I don’t deser-“ you start, but his hands grabbing yours stop you from keep on talking.

“You do deserve it; shall we write our desires in the little papers? Let’s go, I’m sure the Hanabi are about to start ~”

You nod, following him to a little table where two little papers lay on top, and each one has a pen to write on. Soshiro allows you to write yours, and then he does with his, not before asking you to wait until you read.

When both are ready, he guides you with your little paper towards one of the trees. Such tree, the tallest of them all, seemed to be fading into the night sky. Stars shining like diamond dots, like the river that separated Orihime and Hikoboshi but not you two.

“Let me tie yours, and you tie mine” he whispers, while both exchange your desires. As you grab his, you proceed to read...

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ“I wish to be yours, (Name)”

“Soshiro… is this…?” “That’s my answer, (Name)… I really, really wish to be yours. Can you cut open this jail and set me free from this doubts? Am I yours? You are the one to tell me so” “Read mine, and you will find the answer Soshiro…”

ㅤㅤ“For him, the man who set me free with cuts of love, to be mine forever”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ… ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑬𝑵𝑫 ~

dear reader: thank you for reading! hope you liked this story as much as I enjoyed writing it! hope all your dreams come true! 💕 ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ Sashi 🌱

[reaveries]

▬  𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐲

gif credit to @robpattinsongifs (much higher resolution on their account)

summary: late-night visits from your definitely human boyfriend

pairings: edward cullen x fem!reader

word count: 1.6k (approximately 7 minutes reading time)

a/n:  I’ve had this baby marinating in my drafts since January, when I was going through my bi-annual Twilight Renaissance. I was actually in the middle of writing a RE2R Leon Kennedy fic today and decided to put on a twilight playlist, and then I just knew I had to finish this one. It’s my first *published* non-RDR fic heehee (I have so much in my drafts, it’s insane). Anyways, enjoy (pardners)!

masterlist archive of our own

It’s that dreadful time of year again. 

The sun is making its curtain call as students from the nearby elementary school trip over themselves running home. Little girls and boys have sticky remnants of lunch peeking from the corners of their mouths and the grass is still slick from morning showers. But dusk is impatient in February, and its eagerness is encouraged in a town hidden beneath perpetual overcast nine months out of the year.

The school children ran past her window minutes ago when the sky had been painted brilliant indigo. Now, when she looks up the only thing left to see is her own dark reflection and the warm orange glow from a candle on the sill. Its tall flame stutters, collapsing and rising with the damp breeze. 

A page turns, disrupting the otherwise quiet room. The only other noise that can be heard is a soft pitter of water dripping onto the floorboards from a coat hanging off the closet door. 

She reaches for a mug sitting on the corner of her nightstand and promptly sets it back down upon finding it empty. It returns to its spot atop crumpled receipts and library hold slips belonging to the growing stack of books accumulating dust at her bedside. These books tower over the permanent nightstand residents: lazily discarded beaded necklaces, a sample bottle of floral perfume from Christmas, two little ceramic bunnies purchased from an antique mall in Port Angeles last summer, car keys, and drugstore chapstick. It might be worth convincing her to let go of some of these post-object permanence discoveries, but that is a matter for another time.

In a desperate attempt to comprehend the words she’s reading, she rolls onto her back and extends her arms straight in the air so the book hovers a foot from her face—a change of perspective to freshen the mind.

It does not help. 

No matter how much she shifts or squints, the antiquated prose remains stubbornly uninviting. She can’t fathom why anyone would willingly subject themselves to something so archaic and convoluted and furthermore, recommend it as one of their favorite novels.

With a huff, she adjusts the headphones at her ears, hoping the music will clear her mind. But despite her best efforts, the book slowly drifts closer to her chest and her eyelids grow heavier as the music lulls her into a dreamless sleep. 

When she wakes to cold fingers grazing her jaw it’s impossible to tell whether she’d fallen asleep or if she just blinked. The weight of the headphones gently disappears as they’re pulled off and set down on the nightstand. She grumbles incoherently and stretches out her legs, not unlike a cat after a long, difficult day of lounging around. Her eyes begrudgingly flutter open and immediately find him only inches away. He’s watching her, peering down with a twinkle in his amber-colored eyes.

“Edward…” she whispers.

“Dracula,” he says, eyebrows raised as he makes the observation. “I thought you didn’t like Gothics.”

She reaches a finger into the book on her chest and folds the page over before tossing it carelessly into the sea of knitted and quilted blankets at the foot of the bed. With the haze of sleep still clouding her eyes, she smiles sheepishly up at him.

“I’m trying.”

He chuckles lightly and brings his hand to her hair again, brushing stray strands off her forehead and tucking them behind her ears before leaning down to place a chaste kiss above her eyes. Though his lips are soft, the icy touch of his skin sends a shiver down her spine. He’s always cold; a result of his anemia, he says. However, the downpour that's dampened his hair and clothes to his skin has chilled him even more so.

In an effort to sit up, she raises herself onto her elbows and catches a glimpse of the bright red digital numbers on her bedside clock.

“You’re late, you know,” she chides, watching him settle uncomfortably at the head of the bed. He sinks down among the pillows, their plushness contrasting humorously with the stiffness of his demeanor. He reaches behind his back and tugs free a stuffed rabbit lodged between him and the headboard, then sets it down softly beside himself.

“I had to make a quick stop. I hope you can forgive me,” he says in a hushed voice, so as not to make too much noise in the resting house. His eyes flit towards the nightstand and she follows them to see a new item sitting amongst the disorder. A tall styrofoam cup with steam rising thinly from the lid. Coffee. 

The mug she just finished sits right beside it. She’d considered brewing more but that was before being rendered unconscious by Bram Stoker nearly an hour ago. Her heart swells at his thoughtfulness, but a more pressing question comes to mind before she can voice her gratitude.

“How did you even climb up here with that?” She asks, reaching for the cup with both hands.

“I’m very…agile.” There’s a look in his eyes that tells her there’s more to it, but she chooses to ignore it for now with a shake of her head.

The taste is immediately harsh, significantly more bitter than how she makes it herself. Any trace of a smile dissipates and is replaced with a pronounced look of disgust.

“Good God, Edward,” she exclaims. “Decaf? What did I ever do to you?”

He laughs and takes it from her hands, leaving her still reeling from the unexpected taste. “As much as I love staying up with you, you need sleep,” he says, a hint of sternness in his voice. “You didn’t get any last night and you don’t hide it well.”

He says the last part sweetly, tilting his head to the side and following her motions with his eyes, watching her pick up the stuffed rabbit by its cotton paw.

“Don’t hide it well?” She repeats, the indignation in her voice contrasting with the softness of the toy as she raises it high into the air and brings it down against his chest with a soft thud. “Well maybe I wouldn’t have to hide anything if you—weren’t—keeping—me—up—all—night!”

With every word, the rabbit hits his forearms poorly attempting to shield himself from the blows. Edward grins as she attacks him, the soft toy barely making a sound against his arms. He watches as her hair falls across her face in the midst of the unrelenting attack, the warm glow of the candle casting a soft halo around her.

But then, his amusement fades as he sees the exhaustion in her eyes. 

He gently takes the rabbit from her and sets it aside before grabbing her arm mid-swing and pulling her into his chest. She sighs heavily and surrenders, relaxing against him. "I’m sorry," he whispers, his lips brushing against her hair. “I’ll let you rest tonight.”

Despite his tender words, a residual half-baked frustration lingers inside her. “How did you manage to stay awake in class?” she mumbles into his sweater, the words muffled. “I mean, you didn’t get any sleep either.”

He chuckles, as if privy to some inside joke.

“Well, someone had to take your notes for you,” he says, his fingers trailing through her hair in a soothing motion. “And besides, you looked so peaceful drooling away.” 

She looks up at him, a hint of a drowsy smile playing at the corners of her lips. “I did not drool,” she insists.

He grins down at her, his eyes alight with fondness. “Of course not.”

She groans and buries her head into his chest, to which he responds by encircling his arms around her waist and pulling her closer.

“I’m never falling asleep in front of you again,” she grumbles.

His chest rumbles beneath her cheek as he laughs. “Alright, angel.”

He shifts his hand from the crown of her head to the curve of her back, tracing languid circles over the fabric of her t-shirt as the room fills with a comfortable silence. The rain outside grows heavier, tapping against the glass with a more insistent force. Her body is warm against his and he can feel the steady thumping of her heartbeat as if it's his own. A few minutes slip by, and he senses her breathing even out and deepen. Without disturbing her, he reaches for a nearby blanket and drapes it over her, then turns his gaze to the candle on the windowsill.

“Sweet dreams,” he whispers, as the dwindling flame fades out of focus. 

This is his favorite part of the day.

Vague arrays of soft, muted hues and shapes swirl around in his vision, overtaking the warm surroundings of her bedroom. They morph into recognizable figures after some time, and he can hear them speaking when he focuses. For the most part, they sound as if he’s underwater and they’re conversing on the shore. But every now and then, a clear phrase emerges.

Suddenly, the floating shapes assimilate into a figure resembling him and he realizes what this dream is. It’s a recurring one he’s particularly fond of. He settles in and pulls her closer as the scene ebbs between reality and distortions of the unconscious mind. 

He can’t remember how he used to pass the night hours before he met her. Books, records, films--looking back, they feel hollow compared to nights spent like this. Part of him hopes he’ll never know what it's like to want for this. But these dreams, and her thoughts in the waking hours, assure him he won’t ever have to find out.

[emithecharmer]

Shakespeare's Apprentice

Vampire!Hyunjin x human!reader

Warnings: One swear (kind of), vampires

"Soo.." I bit my lip nervously.

"What do vampires do exactly?" I asked, unconsciously bringing some of my hair over my shoulder.

"Stay out of sight, but you can see how that's going." Hyunjin chuckled, resting his head on his arm, turning to face me.

"Do you sleep?" He shook his head.

"Can you eat human food or-?" His lip curled up at that.

"We can, but it's not good." My jaw dropped.

"So, all of the times I cooked for you-" He perked up.

"Now, that was good. It reminded me of when I was human, your soup tastes like my mom's did." He smiled softly.

"Do you miss her?"

"Every single day. I stayed with her until her dying breath, she was a bit curious on why I hadn't aged, but..She never cared much about it." He chuckled a bit.

"Was it hard?" He shrugged.

"I think what helped was the fact she was my mom. I would hate myself for the rest of my life if I hurt her," He tilted his head to look at you, "or you." My heart fluttered and he smiled.

"Is it hard being around me?" I asked, turning to face him, although it was a bit difficult, due to us being in the car.

"Not at all. You're a breath of fresh air." I blinked, surprised at that.

"You're my mate, which means your blood has no appeal to me, only you do." I frowned.

"So, you wouldn't like me if I wasn't your- mate?" He shook his head.

"It's not that simple. A mate is..someone that we're tied to. It's someone that we protect, and that was..made for us? But not in a weird way..It's like..You know what a soulmate is, yes?" I nodded.

"It's like that."

"So we're soulmates?" He nodded at my question.

"Is it weird?" He asked, a bit self-conscious at the new ground he was treading.

"..Well, I mean, you are kind of a vampire, so besides the obvious, not really." He chuckled at my answer.

"'Kind of a vampire?'" I rolled my eyes at his teasing, gaining confidence.

"You know what I mean." He nodded, smiling.

"Your smile's pretty." I said without thinking.

"You're pretty." He replied, reaching out slowly, as if not to scare me, and grabbed my hand, holding it in his. I noted the temperature difference, but it somehow didn't bother me as much as I thought it might.

"Am I cold?" He asked.

"Yeah, but it's nice."

"You're really warm." He said.

"..Can I ask more questions?"

"Can I keep holding your hand?" I nodded.

"Then yes."

.

"What about kids?" I asked.

"I don't really know, I guess it's not impossible? But I'm not exactly an expert on the subject."

"How old were you when you were turned?"

"18."

"Do you know any other vampires?" He nodded.

"I have a coven."

"A 'coven?'" I tilt my head.

"We're basically a band of vampires." He explained in simple terms.

"Oh, right, duh, 'Twilight.' And a 'band?' Ooh, i'll buy tickets." He snorts at my lame joke.

"I'll get you a backstage pass." I smile.

.

"So, what do you do? I mean..I hope you don't do what the Cullens did." He groaned.

"Heck no, I think we'd kill ourselves doing that. I paint, and sell them online. Chris, our 'sire' or 'leader,' whatever he is, he produces along with Bin and Jisung, all online. Minho sells recipes and Felix does the same, but he's also a masked gamer on Twitch and YouTube. Seungmin is a masked singer, along with Jeongin, but both of them kind of dabble in their interests." I nod, entranced as he talks, and i think he notices based off his smirk.

"Don't make me wipe that smirk off." I warn.

"Don't threaten me with a good time." He teases back, smiling softly as he looked into my eyes. "They're gorgeous," he continues, "your eyes, I mean. The rest of you is beautiful too, but your eyes make me feel like i'm somewhere else..Like i'm," he struggled to find the words, "human."

"Ok, Shakespeare, don't go all poet on me." He laughed, leaning in.

"Forgive me, my love, I must have forgotten how small-minded you are."

"Oh really? I'll show you small minded." He laughed again as I struggled to open the car door.

"You may want to try unlocking it."

"I was testing you."

"Ah, of course." He didn't call out my lie as we both got out of the car from where we were parked in the riverfront parking lot.

"Is this how you change me, drown me and then sink your teeth in me." His eyes widen at my joke.

"I would never! But yes, drowning is typically the way we go." He said, obviously joking and making me roll my eyes. "One of these days, they'll get stuck up there."

"Damn, okay mom." He huffs, smiling, but it soon disappears as he looks up to the sky.

"What is it?"

"It's going to rain soon, we should head back, I'll drive you home."

"....Or..." He turns to me, his brow furrowing.

"What?" He asks as the first few drops fall onto the smooth rocks under our feet.

"..Well, and call me crazy if you must, but uh..We could dance." His face softens for a split second before he smirks.

"Who's Shakespeare now?"

"Uh, still you, babygirl. I'm just super-uber romantic." He smiles, walking to me and taking my hand in his, laying it gently on his shoulder, taking my other hand and interlacing it with his.

"Luckily, i am too." He smiles, and I swear my heart stops as he leans down, pressing our foreheads together.

"I'm glad I met you, Hyunjin." I say as we sway to the music that can only be heard in our hearts.

"I'm eternally blessed that you've chosen to grace me with your beauty."

"Someone call up Italy, cause I got Shakespeare right here."

"I take it back." He says, before kissing me softly.

[satorusugurugurl]

may i request camping with kento plsss

The Wingman!

Summary: Marie’s Summer Fest prompt: Camping

Pairing: Nanami Kento x AFAB!Reader

Warnings: language, threats, confessions, fluff, dry humping

Word Count: 1,982

A/N: Thanks for the request, Nonnie! This was a fun super cute prompt! Ugh I love Nanami so much so precious!! 😩💚

You were going to kill the strongest sorcerer of the modern age. Despite his six eyes and limitless technique, you would find a way to kill Gojo. The cocky bastard found out you had liked none of me after walking by Shoko’s office and overhearing you, gushing about the glorious blonde that has stolen your heart.

He made it a point to help you get together with the seven-to-three ratio sorcerer. Gojo often asked you to meet him at the vending machines, only to find Nanami waiting instead. He would have Ijichi pick you up after the mission while Nanami was in the back of the car; he even went as far as locking you in the teacher's lounge together

Gojo had dubbed himself your wingman, and his first attempts to help you had been very innocent. This time he had gone too far.

The bastard had somehow talked Yaga into setting up a camping weekend for students. His reasoning was to let the kids be kids, which could help with their survival skills and team-building—all of which your boss fell for. At first, you were excited. You loved teaching the next generation of sorcerers, and your students always had a way of brightening your day. You sadly realized another reason for this trip, the second not standing in the woods waiting for everyone.

You were seconds away from bolting back to Campus when Gojo grabbed you by the back of your shirt, dragging you back to the group. “Alright, so we’re gonna go over sleeping arrangements.” Gojo went through the list of students before pointing towards himself.

“And our talisman teacher will be bunking with office-worker-dropout sorcerer Nanami Kento. While I’ll be chilling with Suguru!”

“I’m going to kill you.” You harshly whisper while the students begin setting up their tents.

“How could you say that after all the effort I put into giving you some alone time with Nanami?”

“Sleep with one eye open, you stupid cocky, arrogant—”

“Ooh~ keep talking, I'm getting close.”

You embedded your fist with cursed energy and slammed it against Gojo’s infinity, drawing out of the bark of laughter from the blindfolded asshole. Since punching him was out of the question, you stormed off to set up your tent with Nanami close behind you. Like always, he was courteous, insisting that he could put the tent up, but you declined, telling him that you needed to do something with your hands because murdering Gojo was impossible. To which he did something you’ve never heard; he laughed out loud.

Nanami’s laugh was warm and rich, leaving your stomach swarming with butterflies. You found yourself blankly, staring at him. Unaware of your staring, he grinned, shaking his head, as he leaned against a tree near him. That smile had all murderous intentions, floating down the river as his laughter fueled your drive for the night. Did the kids need firewood? You were off skipping through the woods to collect it. Suguru forgot to get the marshmallows out of the car for s’mores? No worries! Thinking of Nanami’s little headshake, you zoomed back to campus alone!

Thinking about his smile had you in a daze all evening. Even when you lay in the tent, staring off into space, you fought the urge to kick your feet as you thought about Nanami earlier. Your thoughts allowed a silence to grow between, but not awkward in an awkward way. It was almost smooth and comforting until he cleared his throat, drawing your focus towards him. Nanami had propped himself up on his elbow, still in his sleeping bag. His gaze was glued to the side of the tent as the soft flush dusted the tips of his ears

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

“What?”

“I just wanted to apologize.” You sat up, watching as the Nanami Kento flushed his eyes, avoiding yours. “You’ve been distant today; you went to get firewood by yourself and went back to Campus alone.” he ran a hand down his face. “Gojo had told me you wouldn’t mind staying in a tent with me, but that man was wrong.”

“No—god, Kento, I’m sorry.” You rubbed awkwardly at your neck. “I’m not uncomfortable at all! I’ve been so giddy all day because of you, so I guess I just seemed distant because I was in my world.”

Nanami shifts in his sleeping bag, focusing his attention on you. “You’re giddy because of me?” There is no going back now; it is now or never.

“Yes, because of your laugh and your smile.”

Nanami just blinked momentarily before the same smile from earlier graced his lips as he lay down, shaking his head. “Oh, you have no idea how relieved I am to hear that.” Your cheeks flushed down next to him. “So my smile, huh?” he cocked an eyebrow with a smirk.

“What can I say? I’m a simple woman.” Nanami chuckled softly, watching you closely. “You were really that worried I was uncomfortable?”

“Of course, you're the last person I’d ever want to make uncomfortable.”

“Oh, and why is that Kento?”

Honey brown eyes met yours as he inched closer. “Just like you, I get—“ he scoffed, “giddy around you.”

It felt hotter in the tent, so hot that you were kicking your sleeping bags down your legs, allowing you to inch yourself ever so closer to Nanami, freeing yourself from the confining blankets and, in a sense, the ropes that had metaphorically been holding you back. You moved closer. And you moved with the soft grind as you cut some of your hair behind your ear.

“Does the Nanami Kento like me?”

“If I said yes, what would you do?”

“Well, tell me, and you’ll find out.”

The sound of Nanami’s sleeping bag being unzipped and his smell invaded your space. “I like you.” You felt like the tension snapped in your shoulders as you jerked forward, cupping his face.

“I like you too.” Your lips pressed against his with a soft kiss. Ken didn’t flinch at the sudden intimate contact. Instead, he melted into it with his eyes shut. His hands slowly trailed up your arms, pulling you closer to him with a happy hum.

That small peck became more heated; Nanami’s teeth gently tugged at your bottom lip as he pulled you into his lap with a groan. You shifted your legs to straddle his hips, allowing you to grind against his. The taste of mint flooded the inside of your mouth, leaving you like putty in his arms while you ran your fingers through his soft, blonde hair, gently tugging at it by its roots.

“Haah~ shit.” Hearing a curse being breathed against your lips, you pulled away with a breathless laugh, leaving Nanami slightly frustrated at the sudden absence of your lips.

“Did you just curse?”

The man below you didn’t answer, and instead, he pushed you back against the sleeping bags, causing breath in your lungs to leave as he nudged your legs apart with his knee, allowing him to press himself directly against your crotch. “Yeah—“ he caught your lips with his and another heated kiss, “You’re going to be learning a lot more about me tonight, darling.” Almost all of Nanami’s weight presses down against you, and he begins rocking his hips against yours.

His erection pressed perfectly against your thin shorts; the seam in the middle of them hit your clit perfectly. Soft whimpers escaped your mouth and slipped into his as your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him down tighter against your body as you dry-humped each other like a couple of teenagers. The was flooded with soft grunts and moans along with the shuffling of clothes as you both pushed past the barrier of colleagues and friends into something more.

He couldn’t get over how good you smelled and how sweet you tasted against his lips, making him run faster, his hands gripping your hips and holding them down as he thrusts faster against your pussy. He wanted you, God, and he had wanted you for years! To finally have you underneath him was a dream come true. One that was, unfortunately, most likely going to end like the wet dreams he had had countless times before. Nanami couldn't help it, though, the feel of your body against his, the sweet sounds you were allowing to spill from your mouth into his, already him on the edge. He pulled away from your mouth, a string of saliva connecting your lips.

“I’m sorry to admit this, but I’m not going to last very long.” He muttered, burying his face in the crook of your neck with a grunt.

“Me neither,” you whispered into his ear as your leg started to shake, “faster~ faster!”

Nanami obliged with a moan, rutting his hips faster against your teeth, clenched together, while you gasped, tilting your head back as the slow, steady grinding turned into a more feral, less synchronized pattern. It was turning into something that was more focused on the sweet relief of the building pressure that was going to burst. Sweat beaded on both you and Nanami’s forehead as his lips sucked and nipped at your sensitive neck, making you cry out softly.

Hearing your moans and feeling the way your clothed core twitched against his aching cock encouraged Nanami to grind his lips, moving harder, his fist digging into the blankets underneath as he threw his head back. The head of his cock rubbed frantically over your clit, pushing you closer to the edge. It was when your legs were wrapped around him that Nanami let his whole body hunched over yours as he moaned out loud.

“Cum, oh fuck I’m gonna—!!”

The way his hips rolled expertly against your clit, r your back arching off the ground as your eyes went wide. Both of you came at the same time, his hips stilling against yours for just a second before he thrusts frantically against you, drawing out both of your orgasms until you both that he finally stopped. You kissed each other lazily as your hands fisted the fabric of his shirt. As you closed, separating your bodies from each other, fingers running through your hair until you both broke apart and panting heavily.

“Ooh, shit—” Nanami said, planting several kisses against your cheek. “I feel like a teenager again.”

“Me too—” you giggled as Kento pulled away to smile down at you, fingers gently caressing your cheek. “You wanna do something else like a couple of teenagers?”

“Oh, and what do you have in mind??”

You sit up, grinning mischievous as you toss him his shoes. “Let’s blow this camping trip and head to an amazing twenty-four-hour bakery I know.”

The following morning, when Gojo crawls out of the tent with his blindfold in disarray, he notices you and Nanami are absent while the students are rebuilding a fire. Out of curiosity, he checked his messages on his phone and saw an unopened text. On his screen is a picture of you and Nanami grinning with food in front of you. The message underneath it read. ‘Thanks Wingman.’ Leaving Gojo hooting as he smacks Suguru with his pillow. When the dark-haired man sat up with a groan, Gojo showed him the message.

“Get up! We’ll ditch the tents and take the kids to celebrate with pancakes!”

Suguru narrowed his eyes at Gojo, a vein in his forehead twitching as he shook his head. “It’s too early for your shit Satoru.” He purred before kicking his sleeping bag off.

“I wonder if they’ll name their firstborn after me!”

“I doubt it.”

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3 @wil10wthetree @luvsymai

Summer Fest Tag List:

@typicalife-101